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#it's the end of the world- did he just get bored and give himself a stick-and-poke?
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imagine logan seeing you again, pt.3
logan x reader
summary: In his universe, Logan and you were in love. Then you died. Now he’s in a different timeline and you are very much alive.
warning: some deadpool x wolverine spoilers. this takes place after the movie. under 1k words. THIS PART IS UNEDITED SORRY
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
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The air smelled like cigarettes and regrets, the perfect kind of bar for Logan Howlett. He walked in, tugging at his dark jean jacket. The place was dark sans a few overhead lights here and there, but he spotted you instantly at the bar. With your back to him, he watched as you slapped the counter several times. At first he thought you were made but he noticed the way the bartender was laughing. He moved closer to see what was going on and walked into the tail end of a story. “...and then Wade shit his pants! It was amazing.”
“I did not!”
Logan hadn’t noticed Wade next to you but the merc grew louder in trying to defend himself. Slightly amused, Logan ordered a beer and watched the pair of you go back and forth until you finally noticed him. You smiled and a hand fell on his shoulder as you stood up from the stool. He recognized how wasted you actually were and without thinking, caught you by the waist. “So you’ve been here for a while, I take.”
“Only like thirty minutes,” you mused, plopping back down onto the stool. Logan smirked and chugged down the beer placed in front of him. He was a certified drinker and the beer was basically water for the man. It felt good. He hadn’t drank much since coming to this new world - he was trying to be better but tonight, as he watched you mercilessly mocked Wade he felt like indulging. 
One night, would it be so bad?
“Logan, let’s take some shots.” You pulled him down next to you and he adjusted himself onto his seat, ignoring the way your hand on him made him feel. He needed more to drink if he was going to survive the night, so he ordered a round for the three of you. Then another and another…
“...is he always like that?”
You gazed up from the shot glass in your hand and followed the direction Logan was facing. Wade was caressing the pool stick in his hand as a failed attempt to distract the poor fella who agreed to a round. Laughing, you said yes and shrugged. “Wade is anything but boring. I like that about him.”
“How did you two get mixed up together?”
Logan felt more relaxed than when he first arrived two hours ago, his jacket was hanging off his chair and the sleeves to his dark henley were pulled up to his forearms. You tried not to stare too hard but you were only a woman. He was gorgeous and rough around the edges, defeat in his eyes but there was something more to the man next to you. 
“A friend introduced us, well, more like a frenemy of Wade’s. We’ve worked off and on for the last few years. He’s honestly, don’t tell him this, not that bad. Kind of annoying…”
Logan laughed, which surprised him more than you. His smile faded when the expression on your face turned into her. He felt ashamed, bashful, and he quickly ordered two more rounds. Sensing a shift, you changed the subject and asked if he had talked to Laura lately.
“She called the other day. Not sure I can give her what she wants…”
“Laura just needs support. People she can count on, friends,” you assured him. The rounds of tequila were brought over and Logan slid two shot glasses to you. You took one and lifted it up to him. “To Laura.”
Logan looked at you, eyes softened as his old heart beated faster than he cared for. Your hair was out of your face, eyes a bit glazed from the alcohol but there was something so different about you. Something the version of you he had loved didn’t have - happiness. You were just happy and satisfied with your life, and he couldn’t fathom it. Logan couldn’t understand how you could be so different from, well, you. There had been something so sad about the woman he loved, so melancholy. Always living for others but you, you sat next to him happy as a clam to be in some shitty little bar. With Wade accosting other customers, sitting next to a man you hardly knew but was so kind to. Logan felt sick to his stomach, guilty as hell because he wouldn't admit it. Too scared to admit that he was enjoying this version of you. Lighthearted and fun. 
You piece of shit, after all she had done for everyone. This is how you repay her? By drooling over another version of her? She died in your arms, you prick!
“Logan.”
Your voice was quietly sweet and he realized he had dazed off, immediately he pushed away all thoughts and chuckled. “To Laura.”
You grinned and clicked your glass against his before downing it. Then you toasted to Wade and Logan begrudgingly joined in for the second shot. Too much alcohol had circulated in your body now, your head felt lightheaded and suddenly, you were braver than you had ever been. Recognizing the song playing over the speakers, you casually suggested Logan take you out to dance. Logan snorted at such a suggestion, thinking you were messing with him but you just stared at him.
“You can’t be fucking serious!”
“Don’t cuss at me, Logan.”
Your tone felt very final but the smile on your face was light and in that moment, Logan couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to. He stood up from his stool, a cold stone expression on his face as he took your hand and cursed under his breath as he pulled you to the small dancing area across the room. He ignored the staring coming from Wade, who was still playing pool. Holding back a laugh, you allowed Logan to pull you to him, one arm around your waist, while the other held your hand. His body felt strong against yours yet his fingers were gentle, tender as they held you.  Your hand slipped up his back and Logan stilled for a single moment when your head rested against his shoulder before he relaxed. He led the dance, slow methodical steps but maybe it was the drinking that had you feeling dizzy and far too relaxed. Neither of you said a single word the entire song, Logan just held you in his arms and hated that he didn’t hate it. He could have gone all night on the dance floor with you against him, his hands on you. He didn’t mind it one bit and when the song ended, he felt disappointed in so many ways.
“Thanks for the dance, Logan,” you mused, patting him on the chest. His hands fell from your body and he couldn’t manage a smile. His eyes were glued to you as you mentioned you needed to use the restroom.His fingers slowly, painfully released you from his grip. You smiled at him and walked toward the bathrooms. Logan stood there as the next song played, something more upbeat and he could feel Wade’s annoying stare but he couldn’t take his eyes off where you stood. Back home, he never danced with you. You weren’t the dancing type, you had been far too busy to enjoy those sorts of things. This had been a first for him and tried so hard to picture the woman he loved in his arms but all he could see was you. 
“You’re so fucked.”
Logan snapped out of his thoughts and glared at Wade, who stood at his side. “Got the hots for the ghost of your girlfriend, huh?”
“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
Wade threw an arm around Logan’s shoulder and noted he knew more than he led on. “That cute little snapshot you have in your wallet? I gotta say, you have a type.”
“Don’t touch my shit again,” Logan warned him. He forgot about the photo in his wallet. Wade smirked and nodded to where you were coming from the bathrooms. 
“Your secret is safe with me…for now, asshole. Just letting you know, you break her heart and I break your small little dick, got it?”
Logan ignored the man and pushed him away as you walked up with a curious glance. Wade flipped him off and wandered back to the pool table. You asked what that was about and Logan said nothing. “Another round?”
“Hell no,” you laughed, bouncing on the heels of your feet. “I am hungry though…I know a really good burger place…”
Perfection. That’s what you were, that’s what this all felt like for Logan and he knew then, Wade was completely right - he was so fucked. Logan agreed, the two of you walked back to the counter for your things. He put on his jean jacket and you grabbed your bag, both of you agreeing to sneak out before Wade could follow. The night was cold but Logan felt nothing but a surge of warmth fall over his body as you walked alongside him. Talkative and a bit clumsy, so much so, he resigned his hand on the small of your back. You didn’t seem to mind and he didn’t either.
So the two of you walked on, disappearing into the night crowd of the city - Logan’s hand, warm on your back. 
...............
leave comment for a tag. (I tagged those from the OG post who seemed interested in seeing a second part)
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@between-the-pages-ofa-book
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lab-gr0wn-lambs · 10 months
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Dude's always chewing on that thumb
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inkdrinkerworld · 4 months
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Early seasons Spencer Reid was BORN to be a loverboy 💞💞 fawning over your every move and blushing the second you look at for too long 💞💞💞 (I need him REALLY bad omg…)
Ah I just realized I did it the other way round! Spencer blushes every time he looks at you
“You’re gonna catch flies in there,” Derek tells Spencer, barely looking up over his desktop as he types at his desk.
Emily pipes in next, “Or drool on your pretty green sweater vest and then where is she meant to rest her head on the jet?”
Spencer’s mouth snaps shut immediately. His teammates have an awful, familial, habit of trying to embarrass him for his blatant affection and preference for you.
Spencer noticed they don’t give you nearly as much stick as they do him.
You’re something special to Spencer, something right out of the fairytale books his mom read to him when he was a child before he started reading them to her.
Sure you’re not the perkiest and smiliest person in the world, but Spencer likes you just the way you are.
“I’m not drooling,” still he wipes his mouth and peers down to his vest. There’s no drool, thank god.
“Here you go, Spence.” You set down a mug of steaming coffee on his desk, rolling your eyes when Derek wiggles his eyebrows at you.
You hand coasts through Spencer’s hair and he feels the heat in his body rise. It’s like your touch sets a livewire off and every nerve ending is fizzling under your touch.
He’d been meaning to cut it, but your hands gravitate to his hair every time he’s within reaching distance and he can’t bring himself to make the appointment.
“You two are sick,” Emily gags when Spencer leans into your hand, you roll your eyes again.
“You two are bored and should be working on not letting Garcia hack into your highschool’s yearbook data.”
Derek launches an almond at your head, it just barely misses you. You laugh when Emily slumps into her chair, clearly remembering the yearbook debacle a year ago. You give Spencer a quiet smile before making your way to your desk.
He watches you go and feels guilty for the way his gaze drags over you. Cheeks flaming.
Spencer doesn’t quite settle back into his newspaper the way his friends settle into whatever’s on their desk.
It’s hard when he can smell your toasted marshmallow perfume lingering on the shoulders of his sweater vest.
He can also feel the heat of your palm on his shoulder still and it makes his cheeks flush; he looks down immediately.
Spencer wills his cheeks and neck to cool. He doesn’t know if he can handle Emily or Derek catching him again.
He cautions a glance in your direction ten minutes later, finding you tapping your pen along your lips as you read over your crossword puzzles.
Spencer’s itchy again, skin flushed and hot as he watches your lips move with every tap. You smile when you find the word and Spencer’s stomach erupts with butterflies.
In quiet moments like this, where you can’t tell that Spencer is looking at you, Spencer thinks you’re the most gorgeous.
This unsurprising beauty that stops his breath short- your hair is falling out of your braids, framing your face and even in your stiffly starched blue pinstripe shirt and jeans you look soft.
Spencer feels heat shoot up his neck as he realises his daydream is obvious, he takes a sip of his coffee and his heat only gets worse.
Derek looks up when he hisses and chuckles, shaking his head when Spencer doesn’t even try to take his eyes off you.
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pirateprincessblog · 2 months
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let me help
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𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: after giving birth and getting bored at home, you come back to work. nothing has changed, except the pair of eyes that look at you in a different light in the corner of the room. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: choi jongho x f!reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: singlemother!reader, pervy!jongho, needy!reader, dom!jongho 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: milf!reader, breastplay, oral fixation, breastfeeding (LIKE TWO DROPS BEAR WITH ME), dry humping
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none? 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: this was so NOT inspired by a crazy reddit post i saw on tiktok lmao, also reader is not necessarily big boobed just imagine whatever u want
𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡�� 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.
***
being pregnant is hard. giving birth is harder. raising an actual pocket sized human was supposed to be the hardest. yet there she is, your own child, sleeping in her crib without a single care in the world. it's been weeks since you gave birth now, and you don't know what you're doing right, but this baby might be the calmest baby in the world. almost always asleep, and when awake, laughing her ass off until she tires herself to sleep again.
frankly, you are bored. you were ready for crying, screaming, projectile fluids, messes, and whatnot. however, this child appears to be toying with you. it laughs in your face, almost as if mocking you for having to stay at home. besides sleeping, she eats quite well. your breasts are beginning to feel sensitive, but you're not complaining just yet, in case it gets worse.
"mom, i want to-" you start speaking one day, switching channels on the tv as the baby naps on your chest.
"hush! you're gonna wake her up!" the woman on the other couch whisper-yells at you.
"you did not just say that. she's passed out, look at her!" you gently pat her back, seeking a reaction. but when she only exhales in her sleep, you look at your mother with a raised eyebrow. "see? like a little drunkie."
"fine, fine. whatever. what did you want to say?"
"i want to go back to work."
"absolutely not."
"why not?!"
"you just had a baby!"
"yeah, weeks ago!"
the woman sighs, slapping her hands on her thighs in disbelief. "are you crazy?"
rolling your eyes, you sit up straight, picking the baby up and placing her on the blanket on the couch. she yawns in her sleep, and her small hands reach out to search for anything to grab on for comfort. she finds the ends of your sleeves, squeezing the fabric between her chubby fingers before dozing off again.
"mom, i honestly don't know what to do with myself anymore. i cleaned the house so many times for the past few weeks, as if i committed a crime and am trying to erase all the evidence. i have no desire for any hobbies or sports, i just want to go back to work. could you watch her for a few hours every now and then? it's not like it's every day."
just in time, your father enters the living room. seeing that he has helped himself to a bottle of beer your ex has left in the basement, you can't help but laugh.
"what is it?" he asks, noticing the difference in the energy of the room.
"your daughter wants to go back to work."
"oh, my! congratulati-"
"no! you're not supposed to be on her side." your mother slaps his shoulder, causing him to frown at her and gently push her off with that same shoulder.
"come on, mary. she's gonna die of boredom. besides, i'm sure she can adjust her schedule and shorten her working hours?"
you nod, feeling grateful that at least someone understands you. you don't give your mother a chance to protest, you wouldn't listen to her anyway. your fingers are already dialing the company, notifying them of your return.
***
your makeup and hair station awaits you just like you left it: the silly polaroids still taped on the corners of it, along with random bows and flowers. a small bouquet of fresh flowers awaits you, with an attached note and a baby store gift card.
𝓽𝓸 𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓯𝓪𝓿𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓮 𝓼𝓽𝔂𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽, 𝔀𝓮 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾!
𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓯𝓪𝓿𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓮 𝓬𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓼,
𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓮𝔃
soon after, you are bombarded with hugs and questions, first from the members then the staff.
"wow, i can't believe a whole baby came out of you! that's so weird."
wooyoung earns himself a smack to the back of his head for that, hongjoong and seonghwa looking at him disapprovingly. "you can't say that, you dumbass."
"what? that's incredible! did it hurt?"
"wooyoung, don't be so-"
"oh, it's fine. let him ask." you come to his defense. "it did hurt, like a bitch. my ex had a big head, you figure out the rest."
the rest of the day goes fast, boys enjoying asking you questions and telling you about what you've missed, and you happily answering those questions and praising them for their progress. one person doesn't speak to you, and instead chooses to sit in the corner of the room, scrolling on his phone. jongho has barely looked at you after giving you a hug and congratulating you, opting for silence instead of engaging in the conversation. you don't talk to him, instead giving him peace.
was he angry that you left? especially during an important time, when they grew as a group and needed as much help as possible? after all, you weren't only their stylist, you were there when they needed help, comforting and whatnot. you're probably the only one who knew of their crushes, secret short relationships and struggles. and you've all kept it that way for a long time, and they still trust you. not once have you betrayed their trust, and being older than them, it makes it easier for them to lay all their concerns in you.
you're sad that you weren't there to experience coachella with them, but they made sure to show you picture and videos, even gave you mingi's bucket hat that had an autograph of other coachella performers on it.
"oh, i can't take this." you try declining, shoving the hat back in mingi's hands.
"sure you can. just take it."
after going back and forth with him, you finally give up, taking the hat and placing it on the corner of the mirror, as if it was wearing it. one by one, they are done with their preparations and leave the room. there's still time until the show, yet the screaming outside is so loud one would think the boys went out already. jongho stays sitting on the couch, not giving you any attention. it gives you time to adjust your bra, your sensitive nipples rubbing against the fabric and giving you a hard time. you wish you could just take it off, but with your luck, you would lactate all over the place.
having a sundress on doesn't make it any easier, your flesh painfully starting to poke out of it. not only did you not fix the situation, you also caused them to become swollen and painful. you sigh, defeated. the only thing left to do is finish jongho quickly and go home. maybe your mother was right. what were you thinking, wearing the dress anyway? guess those oversized clothes during your pregnancy grew onto you. before, you wouldn't be caught dead in a hoodie or a simple t-shirt outside of your home.
"jjong?" you call once you prepare the station for him. when he doesn't reply, your raise your head to look at him through the mirror, and find him already staring at you. "jongho?"
he jolts, cheeks painted pink. "yes?"
"will you come over so i can finish you?"
"yeah, sure."
the young man sits in the chair, squirming for the most of the time. everything seems to go smoothly, until you have to get closer to do his eye makeup. just a hint of eyeliner and eyeshadow seems to be taking ages now, with jongho shuffling and blinking for a worrying amount of time.
"jongho, sweetheart, i need you to stay still if you want to be out of here soon."
by the time he listens, the liquid liner has dried off on the brush, and you turn around to reach into the black bottle to reapply it. a sharp pain goes through one of your breasts, causing you to yelp and drop the brush and spill the bottle all over the counter. jongho opens his eyes, then sits up straight, worry painted on his features.
"are you okay?"
"yeah, just- give me a second."
you hold onto your breasts, back turned to him. still in pain, you don't care if he sees what you're doing. all you want is for it to stop.
"does it... hurt?" he asks carefully, peeking at you through the mirror.
you hum, gently squeezing them in hopes to relieve it.
"can i help in any way?"
"no, there's not much you can do. unless you want to be breastfed so my milk ducts get unclogged." you laugh awkwardly, eyes still fixed on the mess you've created on the counter.
when you don't hear any laughing from his side, you turn around, only to find him dead serious. you stutter, embarrassment flooding your cheeks as you realize you can't really joke about these things with them. after all, they are your clients.
"sorry, didn't mean to make you uncomfort-"
"i'll do it."
at that moment, the door opens, san poking his head through. "hey dude, there's like only a handful of snacks left for you, you better hurry up."
"it's fine." jongho replies, as calm as ever.
you still stand there, processing what he said. san shrugs, then the door closes again, and the man in front of you has his full attention on you.
"will that help relieve the pain?"
"i mean- i- i usually just breastfeed my daughter and it goes away. i could try pumping-"
"i'll help." he is persistent, still maintaining a poker face. it makes you lower your gaze, eyes fixed on his hands resting in his lap. he makes it so difficult to read his emotions.
"jongho, you- you can't be saying stuff like that."
you've never stuttered like this in front of anyone. not even your ex husband had you feeling this nervous under his gaze, not at the beginning of your relationship, not at the end. not ever. yet choi jongho looks at you so intensely, making your cheeks hot and your brain a mess.
"let me just finish you off quickly and then i can go home and solve the issue."
the man sits there for a few seconds, biting the inside of his cheek. he looks at your hands, still cupping your breasts, and without a word leaves his chair.
"wait, where are you-"
he locks the door, then tries it a few times to make sure nobody can get in. you stand still, afraid to move or say anything. not until he does something. he seems to take a few moments to think about the situation he has created. he said it so causally. just what was going on in his mind?
is the new state you're in doing something to him? is that why he was refusing to interact with you?
"jongho, just get back in the chair so you can be a free man. come on."
"no. i want to help."
"fine. what, do you want me to just whip out my tits and let you do whatever to them?" you roll your eyes, avoiding to look at him.
you miss the way he smirks, and only look at him once he sits back on the chair in front of you. you yelp, hands flying to his shoulders as he pulls you to sit on his lap. there is more than just wanting to help, you're sure of it now.
his fingers toy with the outline of your sundress, knuckles caressing the swollen flesh along the way. you can't help but shiver, hands still firmly planted on his shoulders.
"sit," he orders quietly, once he notices you're hovering over his lap. when you fail to listen, he pushes you down, right on his hard crotch. "may i?"
you nod, hurriedly, as if he will change his mind if you take too long. you haven't been touched, not even by yourself, for months. ever since your husband left you, right at the beginning of your pregnancy, you were constantly nervous, sick, and whatnot. pleasure was the last thing on your mind. and even though jongho is trying to do a nice thing, your brain cannot help but think of it as a sexual interaction.
which is why you are dripping already, his fingers barely touching you as he unties the little bow that holds the front of the sundress together. he looks at your plain white bra, and both of your realize just how perfect of a choice you made for today. in hooks in the front, and it takes jongho less than a second to unhook it with a single hand.
your swollen breasts now freely spill from the loose fabric, freeing your sensitive and swollen nipples that are begging for release. the dark haired man cups them, gently kneading as if he does that every day. he doesn't squeeze them, and you are thankful that he knows what he is doing. and impressed.
his thumbs swipe over your nipples, and a hiss escapes your mouth.
"hurts?"
you nod, face twisting with pain as he tests the waters and tries various motions on them.
"they're... bigger." he comments.
"yeah... i'm quite sad i don't get to keep them."
he chuckles, and so do you, finally feeling a little relaxed. nothing about your current state should make you relaxed. you should be jumping off that chair, finish his look at go home. not...  subconsciously dry hump him.
"you know, i thought my crush on you would go away when you got married. it didn't. i thought it would go away when you got pregnant. it didn't. i thought it would for sure go away when you gave birth. and guess what? it only got worse."
with your jaw dropped, all you can do is stare at him. so there was a hidden motive after all.
"i'm going to put it in my mouth now. is that okay?"
"jongho, none of this is okay." you say, your brain working against your heart. and your pussy.
"it's fine. i'm just helping you. that's all."
"yeah, well, putting my nipple in your mouth isn't what one might consider help- oh!" he swipes his tongue over the hardened nipple, finally making you shut up.
his hand cups your breast, gently squeezing it before he attaches his lips to it. your hands instinctively grab at his hair, almost shoving his head into your chest. he chuckles, enjoying how desperate you are when he hasn't done anything properly yet.
your hips grind on his, and you aren't aware of it until the surface beneath you gets harder and harder. jongho grunts against your chest when you roll your hips properly, and it makes you stop. you try pushing him away, ready to start apologizing over and over again. but jongho simply lets go of your breasts, only to put his hands on your ass and help you roll your hips again.
his lips finally start sucking on the tense bud, causing you to yelp in pain. he squeezes your ass, as a way to comfort you. his tongue swipes over your nipple every now and then between sucking, just to soothe you. one hand cups your breast again, gently squeezing it in hopes that it will help.
this time, he is the one to yelp. you look down, embarrassment flooding your cheeks once again. your fingers have tangled themselves in his dark locks, accidentally pulling a bit harder and causing him pain.
"it's alright," he assures, smiling at you. "should i continue?"
"yes, please."
he wraps his lips around the nipple once again, sucking softly. the sight has your panties drenched; your client sitting on your chair, sucking on your tit, while you hold onto him for dear life and grind on him. the rough fabric of his jeans, combined with the fabric of your underwear, deliciously rubs against your clit, causing the pleasure to start building up in your lower stomach. you've almost forgotten about the pain, jongho's now swollen lips kissing and tugging at both of your nipples, and your crotch getting all the attention.
you no longer care about being quiet, moans and gasps shamelessly multiplying and getting louder, hips working relentlessly and fingers tugging his hair. never getting this close before, you force yourself to stop and pull away from him.
"what, what is it?" he asks, shiny eyes looking up at you.
"nothing, i-" you look down, picking the hem of your dress up and revealing a wet spot on his crotch. "i'm going to... you know."
it feels illegal to say the word.
"cum?" he finishes for you.
"yes."
"why did you stop?"
you sigh. your hands caress his cheeks and hair, fixing his messy state. "it's been a while. i don't want to cum with my clothes on. on my client's lap."
jongho takes a moment to think. you find out that it is not a good thing to let him do that. he picks you up, carrying you all the way to the couch where he sat. you find yourself laying on the soft surface, while jongho places a pillow under your head, and one under your lower back.
"can you hold this here for me?" he scrunches the ends of your dress under your chest, and you listen. "do you feel any better?"
"i mean... it's still clogged. maybe try a little harder?"
he takes it as a challenge, almost jumping on you like a starved animal. your hands now grip at the fabric on his back, nails digging into it. he doesn't protest, instead burying his head further into your chest and leaving a few feathery kisses before he takes your breast in his mouth again. just as you asked, he sucks harder. it hurts, more than before. your moans turn into whines and almost sobs, fingers hopelessly clawing at his back but not yet asking him to stop. tears threaten to spill down your cheeks, and you can barely contain them.
the man uses his hand to massage the other breast, caressing it, and the other to spread your legs so he can fit between them better. instead of going back to cup the breast he is currently working on, he slides it up your thigh, all the was to the outline of your panties. he pushes them aside, then gently brings his fingers to your folds.
"you don't- ah!" he finds your clit, giving it an experimental rub, "you don't have to do that."
"i want to." he mumbles, voice lower and raspier than you've ever heard from him before. sensing that you have stopped breathing for a second, jongho looks up at you, mouth still wrapped around your sensitive bud. he only raises and eyebrow and smirks against you, before continuing his actions, eyes not once leaving yours.
you weren't a fan of keeping your eyes open during sexual encounters. your husband didn't care. but this? jongho seems to be aware of the power his stare holds, mostly because his fingers effortlessly slip past your folds and inside your aching hole. you can't find it in yourself to look away, too lost in the way his lips look on you, and his body fits between your legs.
"harder-" you whine. "suck harder."
he hums, sucking harder and harder, while his fingers slowly start abusing your hole. he graces you with deep strokes, knuckles disappearing inside of you and fingers scissoring. the room is filled with squelching, kissing and sucking noises, along with your shallow breathing and a few moans and yelps. his thumb finds your clit once again, rubbing it as he continues fingering you. a tingling sensation appears in your lower stomach again, this time faster and stronger.
"jjong-" you gasp, liquid spilling from your breast and in his mouth. "fuck!"
he turns to the other one, repeating the process, all while his hand inches you closer and closer to the release you haven't tasted in months. white liquid drips down both of your breasts, nipples now more tense than ever.
he grunts along with you, grinding his hips on your leg. the man doesn't waste a single moment before licking away all the liquid that decorates your shaking body. the sight sends you over the edge, along with his fingers in your hole and his soft panting.
with your head thrown back over the edge of the couch, you find your body twitching as waves of pleasure wash over your body. even after jongho is done cleaning your mess that he caused, you have trouble catching your breath and calming yourself.
"hey, hey. i got you." he speaks softly, cupping your face.
he looks at you with different eyes now; soft and caring. a complete opposite of the lustful and intense one you just saw moments ago.
"feeling better?"
you nod, gulping. "i- thank you?"
he laughs, then plants a kiss on your forehead. "thank you."
"what for?"
"for making my fantasy come true."
"you're crazy," you laugh.
"for you, yes. now, let me help you get cleaned and dressed, so i can feel like i have shred of dignity before i ask you out."
"i- oh. but wait, what about you? did you...?"
he stands up, giving you space to stretch your limbs. he reveals a wet patch on his crotch, and not the one you made. "yeah... no sane man could survive this without cumming in his pants. you can't blame me."
884 notes · View notes
andvys · 3 months
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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.
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Chapter twenty ⭐︎ Tell me it's love, tell me it's real
Warnings: 18+ minors don't interact! slight angst, only a tiny bit of sadness, fluff, lots and lots of fluff, mentions of loss and death, smut, pool sex, unprotected sex, mentions of unrequited feelings
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Summary: You and Steve get lost in your own little world, a delusion in which you both have what you want, if only you knew how to talk, how to communicate.
Word count: 11.6k+
Author's note: @hellfire--cult we've been talking about this moment since February and now we're here aaahhhh! thanks for helping me and for putting the smut idea in my head, it's been living rent free in there for the past few months, thanks for writing with me hehe ily
Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter
Steve was dying of boredom. Mrs. Click’s voice sounded through the room that was filled with other bored students, the girl next to him that he never bothered to learn the name of was chewing her gum obnoxiously as she was sketching in her notebook, she smelled like weed and a strong perfume, it was giving him a headache. 
He looked at the clock and sighed, forty minutes to go… 
He couldn’t wait for the bell to ring and go home, watch a movie and eat the pasta his mom made the night before. 
Steve leaned back and tapped his fingers against the book he didn’t even bother to open when Mrs. Click told everyone to flip to page 137. He looked to his left, at the girl sitting by the window, listening attentively and taking notes the way he should have been doing too. 
Just the sight of you angered him and he didn’t even know why, but something in his chest burned every time he looked at you and it frustrated him to no end. And yet, he never stopped himself from looking, from taking in the sight of you and how soft your skin looked, how pretty your eyes were, how nice your clothes fit you and how stunning you always were, even when you ditched your pretty dress for sweaters and jeans on some days. 
Today wasn’t one of those days, you were wearing a skirt, a short one that rode up on your thighs, it made his eyes spark with interest, it made him look closer at you, he sat up straighter and leaned his elbows on the table. 
Your eyebrows were scrunched together, your glossy lips puckered, your eyelashes kissed your skin every time you blinked, your hair laid so prettily on your shoulder, curled at the ends, he wondered how much time you spent on it, did you sleep with rollers in your hair? Or did you get up early just to style it? 
Your skin was glowing and he swore that he could smell your sweet perfume even from a distance. Every time you passed him, he breathed in your scent and made the burning in his chest feel worse than before but he couldn’t help it, you smelled so good. 
He kept staring at you and questions started running through his mind. 
Why do you have to be so beautiful?
Why do you have such pretty lashes?
Why do you bite your lip like that?
Why does his heart beat so weirdly every time he sees you?
It’s not fair, it’s bullshit. 
Your eyes, your smile, your hair, your lips, your pretty face, your stupid rings, your scent, your beauty… it’s not fair. 
Your presence always made him huff in irritation and yet, he never bothered to look the other way or avoid you. 
He always stared, every chance he got, he stared, just like now. 
But then, you turned your head and your eyes locked with his, you caught him staring and it made his cheeks heat up. He shifted in his seat as you gave him a look of confusion, your puckered lips turning downwards, your eyebrows scrunching together even more. 
He should’ve looked away and pretended like nothing happened but he didn’t, he raised his brows at you and curled his lips into a smirk, an action that made you roll your eyes before you turned back to your notebook. 
He almost felt disappointed at the loss of your attention, but then you flipped a page and leaned closer to the table, you quickly scribbled something into your notebook, it made him curious and it made him crane his neck a little but he couldn’t see what you were writing. You then ripped the paper out and folded it, you looked at Mrs. Click before you turned back to him and threw the note on his table without giving him as much of a glance. 
Something in his chest stirred as he picked it up, still looking at you before he gave his full attention to the paper in his hand, he unfolded it and furrowed his brows as he looked at your pretty handwriting before he even read what you wrote. 
What are you looking at perv?
Steve almost laughed, he didn’t expect anything else from you. He shook his head and smirked as he folded the note back together and threw it in his pencil case. He ripped off a piece of paper from his own notebook and started writing without thinking. 
You.
A simple ‘you’, that’s all. He wanted to see how you would react, what you would say back, if you would take it as a chance to flirt with the King, if you would use the opportunity any other girl would use. 
He looked around and ignored the curious looks from Tommy as he threw the note on your table, it landed right in front of you and you wasted no time unfolding it, you looked over your shoulder at him, a deadpan look on your pretty face. You sighed and turned back. 
Steve straightened in his seat, he pressed his lips together as he watched you and the way you held your breath, the way you stared at the paper for a moment, tensely and then, you huffed and crumbled up the piece of paper and threw it in your case just the way he did. You started writing hastily and made him more curious when you stopped for a second before you continued. 
His heart jumped when he got the second note, just like the first time, he quickly unfolded it and read it with excitement bubbling in his chest. 
Very funny, are you running out of girls to flirt with, King Steve?
Of course you would not take the bait and give into his curiosity but he found himself craving for more, you sparked his interest, so he picked up the pen again. 
What makes you think I’m flirting with you, Blondie? Maybe I just like looking at you. 
He should have seen the way you halted your breath, the way you stared at the note a little longer than you did at the last one.
And here I thought you only like to look at yourself…
He snorted at that and earned a pointed look from Mrs. Click, he instantly straightened his back and pretended to listen to her, scared of getting caught, he didn’t want this to end just yet. A sigh of relief fell from his lips once she turned her attention back to the book in front of her. 
No, I quite like looking at the skirt you’re wearing today
Steve swore that you grew flustered at this note, you even glanced down at the skirt and took a few deep breaths before you wrote back to him. 
Like I said… perv. 
His shoulders slumped and he sighed. A part of him was amused, the other… not so much but before he could write back, the bell rang and everyone around him started gathering their stuff and hurrying to leave the classroom, including you. You picked up your notebook and got up, you smoothed down your skirt and left without sparing him a single glance. 
But Steve wanted more. He gathered his things and jumped up, not bothering to wait for Tommy, he hurried after you and watched the way your skirt swayed and your hair bounced. He licked his lips and cleared his throat as he caught up to you, he glanced down at you with a cocky smirk on his face, one that made you roll your eyes again. 
“What do you want, perv?”
He chuckled and shook his head. 
“I’m not a perv.”
“You’re not?” You tilted your head at him, cutely. “Then why are you staring at my skirt and making comments about it?”
He shrugged and looked down at it before his eyes moved up your body, “maybe I just really like it.” 
You rolled your eyes again and laughed – a sound that made him feel something in his stomach. 
“I fear you can’t borrow it, it won’t even fit around your big square head.” 
Now it was his turn to roll his eyes and yet, he couldn’t even help but snort at your insult, they were so very different from the ones he threw at you sometimes.  
“My head isn’t square…”
“Yes it is,” you giggled and gave him a smirk as you eyed him. 
Evil. 
“You look like a lego figure, you have a lego head.” 
He shook his head at you, though the amused smile lingered on his face, even as he took notice of all the prying eyes on you and him, he heard the whispers, saw the girls that eyed him and then you before they leaned towards each other to make up some new gossip, a part of him felt irritated and annoyed but the other part of him that loved the attention, couldn’t care less about what they would say about him or you. 
You stopped at your locker and gave him a weird look when he stopped too, he leaned against the locker next to yours and crossed his arms over his chest as he watched you fidget with your lock. He looked at your hands, how much smaller they were than his and he couldn’t help but let his mind wander the way his eyes did as they roamed every inch of you while you were busy putting your stuff into your locker. 
Usually he did not allow himself to see you as anything other than a girl he disliked but a part of him couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if he allowed himself to see you as something other than that, as something more. 
He licked his lips as he looked at your soft skin, his fingers itched to touch your hair, wondering if they felt just as soft as they looked. He breathed in the scent of your perfume and felt something stir inside of him. 
You turned towards him and he didn’t bother to hide the fact that he was staring. Your lashes fluttered as you blinked, your lips twisted into a downturned smile, you raised your brows at him and shrugged.
“Okay, what do you want from me, Harrington?” You asked, the strap of your backpack now over your shoulder and you slammed your locker before you crossed your arms over your chest. “Is this a dare or something or why are you staring at me like some creep?” 
He felt his cheeks heat up a little, a shyness he usually never felt tugged at his emotions but his arrogance was still in control. 
“I’m bored,” he shrugged and let his eyes linger on your lips as his mind continued to wander. 
You rolled your eyes at him and huffed, pointing your finger around you, gesturing to the students, to the girls that stared at you in envy at this moment. 
“Well, I’m sure one of them will keep you entertained,” you mumbled and took a step forward, “they are practically begging on their knees for your attention, don’t leave ‘em waiting.” You patted him on his chest before you stepped away from him. 
He turned to face you, not wanting to let you go just yet. 
“What if I want you to keep me entertained?” He asked teasingly with a cocky, playful smirk on his lips, one that made you blink and sigh. 
“Dream on, King Steve,” you smirked and looked over his shoulder at something behind him, “gotta be more creative with your dares, your stupid friends are way too obvious.” 
He furrowed his brows and turned around to see what you were looking at, he found Tommy and Carol watching the two of you with a smirk on their lips, giggles falling from Carol’s mouth. Steve rolled his eyes at them and sighed. 
“Listen, that wasn’t–” he stopped talking when he found you long gone and away from him and watched as you walked away, “a dare…” He mumbled to himself, he sighed again and looked down once you were out of sight. His notebook and pencil case were still in his hand, your notes tucked safely in the case – where they stayed for a while. 
“Steve!” 
Your giggles make him smile so widely that it makes his cheeks ache but he can’t stop, not when you continue blessing him with your sweet laughter, your hands are on his shoulders, holding on tightly as his fingers dig into your sides, he peppers your neck with kisses, smacking his lips against the skin over and over. 
You are squirming underneath him, your dress riding up in the process as you both lie on the big couch in your living room, the movie playing on the TV long forgotten, your snacks discarded on the table, your attention is fully on each other, your lips locking every few seconds as your hands wander across his shoulders, over his back, down his arms and finally melting into his hands, your heart skipping several beats when he entwines his fingers with yours.
Steve squeezes your hands and he dives in deeper into your neck, kissing and smiling against your skin. 
“That tickles!” You giggle again, your eyes begin to water from all the laughter. 
He chuckles against you and pecks your neck one more time before he pulls back to kiss your jaw instead, then your cheek and finally your lips, humming against you when you kiss him back immediately. Your breaths mingle together, your lips mold against each other, softly yet passionately, you are chest to chest, hands clinging to one another. 
You let go of one hand and place your palm on his back, sliding it up to his shoulder and squeezing it before you sink your fingers into his already messy hair. 
Steve sighs into the kiss and tightens his hold on your hand as he parts your thighs with his knee, not to take this any further but to feel you closer and you welcome him happily, not initiating anything else either, this feels good, this feels nice, this is enough. 
Your whimper makes his stomach flutter, a smile tugs at his lips as you play with his hair. Your hands feel so good on him, so perfect, so right. His heart skips a beat when you push yourself up and press yourself further against him, parting his lips with your tongue, you deepen the kiss in need to feel him even closer. 
Your hands roam his body and his roam yours, sighs and whimpers sound through the room as you make out on your couch, growing more and more breathless, only when it gets too much do you break the kiss and pull away from one another. You lay your head back on the pillow and open your eyes to see him staring at you already, a soft smile on his swollen lips, eyes hooded and laced with softness, his cheeks are pink and his hair is messy from all your tugging. Steve makes your heart flutter when he presses another soft kiss to your lips and cups the side of your face, tracing your cheekbone as he gazes down at you in a way only a special one should do. 
“Hi Blondie,” he whispers sweetly. 
You raise your hand up towards his face, brushing back his spitcurl before you trail your finger down to his lips, “hey, Lego Head.” 
His eyes crinkle in amusement, a chuckle falls from his pretty lips, “wow, way to ruin the moment.” 
You giggle at him and it makes him continue. 
“You haven’t used that one in a while.” 
“Mhmm, did you miss it?” You tease him, knowing how much he hated the nickname you gave him on a random school day. 
“Hmm, it kinda grew on me,” he admits, smiling down at you, “but I kinda prefer it when you call me Stevie.”
“Stevie? That only happens when I’m drunk.” 
“Yeah,” he whispers and tugs your hair behind your ear, still smiling as his eyes trace your features, “guess I gotta get you drunk again.”
“Why?” You giggle and furrow your brows at him, “so I’ll call you Stevie again?” 
“Yeah, and so I can have sweet Blondie again,” he smirks, “you’re so nice and adorable when you’re drunk.” 
Your cheeks heat up at his words but you roll your eyes and shake your head. 
“Are you saying I’m normally not adorable?” You joke and pout at him and push him back so you can stand up, heart beating faster at the groan of protest and the tightness of his hold on your waist when you try to get up from the couch. 
“Where are you going?” He asks, frowning at you when you place your hand on top of his and gently remove it from your waist. 
“I’m starving, I’m gonna see what I have in the fridge.” 
Steve nods and wastes no time to get up and follow you into the kitchen, admiring the way your little sundress fits your body, the way it hugs your waist and sways around your hips as you walk. Your hair matches the state of his own, messy and disheveled from the previous makeout session. 
When you open the fridge, you let out a loud sigh and look over your shoulder, “uh… I kinda forgot to do the groceries.” 
Steve raises his eyebrows at you, chuckling at the expression on your face, he steps closer to you and places his hands on your waist as he takes a look inside, finding nothing more than fruit, drinks, condiments and cheese, “yeah, that won’t do.”
You sigh again and close the fridge, turning around to face him while his hands are still on your waist. 
“Yeah…”
“Well, let’s go out then,” Steve shrugs as the idea of taking you to a restaurant fills him with excitement and giddiness. 
Your lips part in surprise as your eyes widen. 
“W-Where?”
Steve clears his throat, his cheeks take on a deeper shade. 
“T-To eat. We can uh– go to a sushi restaurant, I’ve always wanted to try… Have you ever tried sushi…?” He stutters and blushes. 
“Y-You wanna go out with me… in public?” You ask, cringing at how shaky and small your own voice sounds. 
His lips twitch, curling into a smile as he nods. 
“We uh… We could go out of town, there are no sushi restaurants in Hawkins, Blondie.” His words left his mouth so casually, like his heart isn’t hammering in his chest and he isn’t filled with the same nervousness he felt as a teenage boy. He feels as though he is asking you out on a date… and maybe he is, maybe he’d like to pretend that he is. 
“You mean to Indianapolis?”
Steve nods. He wants to leave Hawkins for a while, even if just for one night, he wants to be able to go out with you without feeling the need to hide, he wants to hold your hand in public and kiss you breathless on the streets, he wants to hold you close and show you off as if you were his. 
He wants it all with you and he wants it here too, in his hometown, where anyone could see but he still doesn’t know how you feel, he feels hopeful but he is still in the dark about your feelings. 
“It's the closest city we got.”
“It’s an hour trip!” 
His heart melts at the bewildered, cute look on your face, the excitement that lingers in your eyes as your lips start curling into a smile. 
“So?” Steve shrugs and squeezes your waist, “we got all night.”
Your heart is racing and everything inside of you flutters in excitement. Your cheeks are burning and you feel the giddiness of a girl that’s been asked out on a date by the boy she likes. You can’t even hide the smile that appears on your face, brightly and happily. 
“I need to get changed then!” You beam at him as you already step away, not giving him the chance to protest or say anything else before you walk out of the kitchen, “I’ll be down in a minute!” 
Steve listens to the sound of your footsteps as you rush up the stairs, leaving him in your kitchen with a pounding heart and a huge smile on his lips. He looks up at the ceiling, an accomplished and joyful feeling rushing through him, he can’t help but do a silent fist pump. 
This is going to be a date, an unofficial one, but still a date. 
He can’t fight the grin off his lips, the giddy feeling settling into his whole body. He walks back into the hallway and takes a look at himself, your lipstick is smudged on his skin and his lips, his hair is a mess, created by you, his cheeks are glowing from all the happiness inside of him. 
He fixes his hair and wipes the pink lipstick off his skin before he makes his way into your living room to turn off the TV and put away the snacks you both had earlier. 
You come back down fifteen minutes later, changed into a new dress and your makeup reapplied, your hair fixed and a small purse in your hand. You meet in the hallway, keys already in his hand, and he’s leaning against the door.
Steve’s heart goes wild at the sight of you in your new sundress, your glossy lips tugged into a smile, the urge to pull you into a kiss pushes him towards you.
He whistles playfully, making you roll your eyes with a giggle. 
“Getting all pretty for me now?” He teases, acting cocky as though his heart isn’t threatening to beat out of his chest. 
You always get pretty for him. 
“I’ve been dying to wear this dress,” you say, flipping your hair over your shoulder as you twirl around to reveal your open back to him, not knowing how crazy you drive him with your action. 
Steve’s stomach flutters, his hands instantly itch to touch your bare skin, you look so beautiful. 
He takes a step closer to you and grabs your waist, humming, “that’s a pretty dress, I can’t wait to see it on my bedroom floor though.” 
Your cheeks burn and despite it, you giggle as you turn around to face him, “is that a King Steve pickup line?” 
He shakes his head, “no, he never said such things.”
“Sure,” you snort and tug at his hand, pulling him towards the door, “come on now, I’m starving!” 
Steve chuckles and nods, reaching for his car keys on the dresser, he squeezes your hand, “yeah, come on, before you get grumpy.” 
“I never get grumpy,” you argue as your lips curl into a pout that he instantly feels the urge to kiss. 
“You always get grumpy when you’re hungry,” he laughs. He loves it. 
Steve opens the door for you, giving you a sweet smile as he looks down at your pretty face. You step out and he follows, admiring the way your dress hugs your body, the way your skin glows beneath the evening sun, the way your hair shines, your perfume lingers in the air and he can’t help but breathe it in deeply, just the way he always did. 
Your hand fits in his so perfectly, like it belongs there… and to him it does. 
You look over your shoulder, giving him a cute smile that leaves him breathless. The golden light that shines down on you turns his breathing shaky, no words could describe your beauty, nothing comes close to it, absolutely nothing. You are stunning, bewitching, you are a goddess and he worships every inch of your being and you don’t even know it.
He wishes he could scream out those three big words, kiss you breathless and show you just how much he adores you but he can’t, he is too afraid, he fears rejection so deeply, so all that he can do is pretend, pretend that you are already his and live in this small delusion for as long as he can. He opens the door for you and winks at you, fighting the urge to kiss your hand before he lets go of you and closes the door only to grab your hand again once he is seated in the driver's seat, you lace your fingers together and squeeze his hand, unaware of the feelings you leave him with, with your sweet action. 
When he turns on the music and a smile appears on your face, you sink deeper into the seat and get comfortable, a content look on your pretty features. You look so perfect sitting in his passenger seat, next to him, holding his hand, enjoying the music as you look out the window when he drives down the road.
This is where you belong, this is what he wants, you by his side, for tonight and for always, he wants you to be his, his girl.
This isn’t enough, it never was, this was never just about sex. 
There was never an ounce of hatred for you in his bones, not in high school and not after. 
He felt bitterness, confusion, denial but most of all, he felt jealousy, he always did and he never understood why you didn’t like him, why you bickered with him, why you laughed at his poor flirting attempts, why you didn’t want him the way every other girl did, why you showed up for Lucas’s game but not a single one of his – that night isn’t one he likes to think back on, it makes him cringe and shudder in annoyance at himself for what he said to you, he let his emotions, his jealousy, his frustrations control the words his mouth left. 
He didn’t know that you were a friend of Max and Lucas, he didn’t know that you showed up for her, and for him, knowing that his friends were too busy with Eddie’s D&D campaign. He didn’t know why you were there, but when he saw you on the bleachers and he caught you waving at Lucas, whose eyes lit up when he saw you, he couldn’t help but feel jealous because why did you show up for a freshman, for a kid? Why did you never show up to any of his games? Why didn’t you give him the chance to show off? 
He felt irritated, even more so when he saw you talking to Lucas in the parking lot, smiling at him and congratulating him on his successful first game. 
He remembers the way he marched over to you, the way he started bickering with you instead of praising the teen he showed up for. 
“Are you so desperate for attention that you go for a freshman now?” 
He cringes at himself, even now, disgusted at the words he threw at you.
You looked so hurt and angry, you pushed him away from you and he never blamed you for it, you could’ve slapped him right there, he deserved it. 
He felt guilty right then and there but that emotion intensified when only a few days later he found out about your sisterly bond with Max and your friendship with both of them, you cared for them and protected them just the way he did. Before he knew that, he made himself believe that you were just a loner, a person too cold to feel anything, even platonic, he wanted to believe that he wasn’t some unimportant person that you crossed paths with, that you were simply unable to form bonds or relationships but that wasn’t the case, you had people you cared for, you had friends you would die for, you just didn’t want to give him a chance, not platonically and especially not romantically. 
He was jealous of anyone who was close to you, who was special to you but back then, he didn’t allow himself to explore the depth of those emotions that always lingered inside of him when it came to you. 
Now he can see them, he can feel them, he can admit that he was jealous and hurt because he is no longer ashamed to like, love you — someone who might not feel the same. But whatever the outcome of this affair will be, he doesn’t regret letting all those feelings in, especially now that you are here with him, like this, holding his hand and letting him take you out and show you off in public. 
He is allowed to feel hopeful now, he thinks. 
Indianapolis is big and no town people, no friends, no prying eyes will be there to see you both but you could have still easily said no to his suggestion because who goes out to eat with their supposedly casual hook up? But then again, what is casual about you both? 
Not even your first night together was casual. 
You kissed and held each other close from the very beginning. 
You stay over, you cuddle, you hold hands, even in public and when you are sure that no one is looking, you sleep in his arms and you make each other breakfast, you make sure that his favorite drinks and snacks are in your kitchen and he does the same for you, his bathroom and his bedroom are filled with things that belong to you. 
This isn’t casual, the signs are there and they are so very clear, tonight especially, when you make it to the city and you walk through the busy streets where it’s much more crowded and louder than it is in your small hometown, you keep close to him and hold onto his hand tightly as you lead him to the sushi restaurant that you have told him about on the drive here, the one you went to with your parents and your sister every time you visited your grandparents in the city. 
So many things go through Steve’s mind and so many emotions rush through him as you walk side by side, hand in hand with the city lights shining down on you both as the sun disappears more and more. He feels free, like he can do anything, like he can kiss you right here, right now, without needing to hide or drag you to a secret corner, he feels giddy, happy, he can’t even hide the smile on his face. 
Once you make it to your destination, Steve lets go of your hand and places it on the small of your back instead, he opens the door and keeps his palm pressed against your body. He is so lost in his happy bubble, he doesn’t even notice the blush taking over your face when he wraps his arm around you and rests his palm on your hip instead as he leads you inside. 
It’s crowded but he didn’t expect any less from a restaurant in a big city, he doesn’t seem to mind though and neither do you, especially when you get one of the booth tables, tucked away in the very back, next to a big window where you can see the city lights. 
You sit down across from one another, smiling from ear to ear as you look into each other’s eyes. 
“Hi,” he whispers, making you giggle. 
“Hi.”
His honey eyes look so pretty in this golden light, his hair looks softer than ever, his smile so big and bright that it fills you with hope, especially when it stays as his eyes trace your face, he is staring at you even though he could be staring at this pretty setting around you, at the decorated room, the string lights over you, the city lights, but no, he is staring at you and he is making you feel special. 
A sheepish smile takes over your face, a shyness that you rarely ever feel flushing through you, the look in his eyes is so intense that you can’t help but be the first to break contact. You lean back and cross your legs, looking around the restaurant you used to eat dinners at with your family. 
Nostalgia comes over you when a family of four catches your eye, sitting at a round table, they seem to be in a lively conversation, the two little girls laughing with their father as their mother shakes her head with a smile on her face. 
Steve follows your gaze when he notices the sad but soft look in your eyes. Something tugs at his chest when he takes a look at the family you are watching and suddenly your eyes aren’t the only ones filled with sadness. 
He leans closer to the table, placing his palm above your hand. 
“Are you okay?” He asks, watching the way you tilt your head at him, the softness in your eyes never leaving. “I mean, are you okay to be here… right now… with me?” 
There is no one else you would rather be with here.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” you nod, glancing down at his hand, he is now rubbing circles into your skin, “and yes, I want to be here with you,” you admit, knowing how vulnerable you can make yourself look with such words. 
He breathes out a sigh of relief, his lips curl back into a smile. 
Steve keeps holding your hand, not letting go, not even when he decides to look at the menu, not even when the waiter stops at your table to take your orders, not when your drinks arrive a few minutes later, he keeps holding on and you let him.
Curiosity sparks in him when he notices the way you keep looking back at the family, a look in your eyes that signalizes the feeling of longing. 
“Blondie?” 
“Hmm?” 
“Can I ask you something?” 
You nod, “anything.”
You’re close enough to ask each other questions that won’t make the other uncomfortable and that is something Steve greatly appreciates, knowing that you weren’t here months back, not even close.
Steve blinks, taking a few shaky breaths, he keeps his hand on yours, tracing the ring on your middle finger. He clears his throat and looks down, ignoring the strong beating of his heart and the nervousness bubbling in his stomach. 
“Do you uh… do you ever think about it?” 
You look at him with big, curious eyes and it’s not helping his case at all. 
“Think about what?” 
“Kids.” 
You furrow your brows at his question but you smile softly and you don’t hesitate to nod, not even needing time to think about it. 
“I honestly want to… I miss having a big family, you know?” You pause and look down at his hand, wondering what it would be like if he had a ring on his fourth finger, one that would match your own. “I don’t care if it’s one or many, I just… I really want a family, one that is here with me, all the time.” 
Steve’s big hazel eyes soften and flicker with deep emotions. His heart skips a beat as warmth settles in his chest. 
He didn’t think he could fall even harder for you, even deeper but now as he looks at you, as he holds your hand and looks into your pretty eyes, he knows that he will never stop falling, there is no end, no limit when it comes to his feelings, to his love for you.
A future lies before his eyes, a future with you, rings, cradles, a white picket fence, kids that look like you and him. He sees something, something that is in reach, something that he hopes for, something that he wants with you without a single doubt.
“You will have it all, Blondie.”
You don’t know what to make of his words but whatever the feelings behind them are, you know that they are not what you want them to be, no matter how much his feelings for you changed, no matter how much hope there is in you, no matter how big it is, you can’t believe that the thing you have now, could be one for the future too and not only the present. 
You don’t know what to say without revealing your feelings to him, you want this with him and he can’t know, he just can’t. 
To your relief, the waiter brings your food to the table, taking Steve’s attention away from your face. You let go of each other's hands, thanking and smiling at the waiter. 
“That looks amazing,” Steve murmurs as he looks at the plates in front of the both of you, reaching for the chopsticks, he looks down at them, growing a little nervous, he never used them before. 
“It does,” you nod with a smile on your face, “hey, this is special, Steve. I’m getting my first sushi with you.” You say with a giggle, making his chest flutter. 
“I thought you had some before.” 
“Yeah, stole some from my dad but I never actually had a plate for myself,” you chuckle. 
“Well, I’m glad we share some firsts together then because I never tried them before, at all,” he grins. 
You can tell by the way he is holding the chopsticks wrongly, looking down at them with furrowed brows and pursed lips. He looks so cute like this but a part of you wants to laugh even though you can’t even use them properly yourself. You have seen your dad using them every time you came here to eat, but you never tried it yourself. 
“I can tell,” you murmur, unable to hide the giggle when he tries to pick up a roll but fails to do so. 
He snorts and shoots you a playful glare. 
“Go ahead, and show me then, Blondie,” he smirks at you, pointing at your plate. 
You clear your throat and place your chopsticks between your index and middle finger, you can already feel your cheeks heating up beneath his gaze. You press your thumb against the chopstick and bite your lip in concentration, glancing at him for a second to see him staring at you, making the warmth in your cheeks grow hotter. 
“See?” You grin as you pinch your food gently, growing confident when you manage to pick up the sushi despite the shakiness in your hands. 
Steve raises his eyebrows at you, smiling softly. 
You go to dip it in the soy sauce when your shaky hands lose control and your sushi plops into the sauce loudly, splattering over your plate but luckily not on your dress. You press your lips together and look into his eyes, you stare at one another for a moment before you both burst into laughter. 
“Oh my god,” Steve chuckles in amusement, “you’re a great teacher, honey.” 
“Shut up,” you giggle and try to pick it up again. 
“Guess we gotta learn together,” he shrugs with a smile on his face. 
You do, you learn together and you share jokes and laugh at each other every time you fail, but once you get the hang out of it, you fall into a conversation about your parents, you tell him stories of the times they brought you and your sister into the city and Steve listens attentively, smiling at you and feeling grateful that you feel comfortable enough to bring him here and to talk about them – and you, you are surprised yourself when you don’t feel the cold sadness in you that you always felt every time you even mentioned them, talking about them with Steve feels… comforting, he is comforting. 
His knees touch yours beneath the table, the material of his jeans brushing your bare skin, his hand is close to yours, his pinky touching your own. He smiles at you, he laughs with you, he makes silly jokes and feeds you his food, his eyes never stray away from you, there is only you for him right now and as the realization strikes you, you grow hopeful again, your heart skips a beat at the thought that this could be something like… a date. 
You both want the same thing, though what neither of you realize is that you aren’t acting like two nervous people who finally managed to score a date with that one person, you are acting like a couple, not a single awkward moment follows you both, you are talking and laughing with each other like you’re best friends. 
“I have this theory…” Steve says before he takes a sip of his coke. 
You cock your head to the side, “please continue.” 
He places his glass back on the table and picks up his chopsticks again, he chuckles before he opens his mouth once more, “that Dustin is copying Eddie.”
“What?” You laugh. 
“Hear me out, for the past few weeks… Have you seen Dustin’s change of style!? He is wearing all black now! And his hair? It’s fucking long!” He exclaims, shaking his head. 
You’re a little amused by his sudden outburst, by the confused and slightly irritated look on his face, it’s cute. 
“Well, he sees Eddie as a role model, so?” 
"Excuse me?” He scoffs, not liking your words, not liking that the boy that once looked up to him found someone else, someone better to look up to. 
You squint your eyes at him and lean closer to the table, cupping your cheek as you smile, “Steve, is it just me or are you jealous of Eddie?” 
He scoffs again, waving his hand at you, “nonsense.”
“You’re jealous that he stole Dustin from you.” 
Steve shakes his head at you, “I’m not jealous, I’m just saying that– he is following Eddie like some lost puppy, copying him fully! What if he takes on smoking?” 
A laugh tumbles from your lips and Steve can’t even fight the smile off his lips when your soft eyes glow with amusement. 
“Really? He is fifteen, Steve! You were hosting parties at that age and getting drunk, he is not the twelve year old you once met.”
Steve laughs, he leans back in his seat and sighs, running his fingers through his hair, “yeah, I forget that sometimes, he’s not a kid anymore… he’s a teenager,” he chuckles, furrowing his eyebrows, “but come on… Eddie? Eddie’s sense of style? Is Dustin insane?” 
You roll your eyes at him, still amused by him. 
“So, you want him to wear polo shirts and cardigans instead?” 
His lips part and he pretends to be offended, “hey! You like my polo shirts!” 
“Yeah, not the point here.” 
Steve tilts his chin up, smirking at you, “you admit that you like them then?” 
You chuckle, shaking your head and hiding your face behind your hair as you start blushing again which prompts him to continue his teasing as he begins to reminisce about your shared days at school, leaving out the saddening memories and only talking of the good ones, the funny ones, memories of your childhood, of your time in kindergarten and middle school and how long you have been a part of each other’s lives and when you leave the restaurant after a long time, you reach for each other’s hands and entwine your fingers together without even thinking about it. 
You stroll through the city and kiss on the streets, like he wanted to all night and it makes you both smile, it makes you feel happy and free and Steve can’t wait for the day when he will find the courage to ask you out on a real date, to ask you to be more than this, to be his, like he pretends you are now as you stand beneath the twinkling lights, surrounded by people, surrounded by the sounds of the city and he can’t stop kissing you, not even when you continue your way to his car, he keeps pulling you into kisses, pressing his lips to yours, to your cheeks, to your hands, to your neck, over and over again, making you giggle and blush at his sweet actions. He’s drunk on you, he is so in love with you that he can’t contain it, he has to show it in some way, he has to let it out, even if not in words. 
Steve holds your hand on your way home, he kisses you at every red light and he sings along to The Smiths, you don’t think that you have ever seen him so carefree and relaxed before. 
And Steve, he had never felt this happy before, nothing, no one can compare to you, to the way you make him feel, to the love he feels for you, to the happiness that flickers in him every time you reach for his hand or bless him with a sweet smile after pressing your lips to his. Those three words that are on the tip of his tongue, beg to be released and he is so close to doing it, so damn close. 
You’re waving your hand in front of your face when you step inside his house, the heat of the summer night feeling too warm on your skin and Steve’s hands on your waist aren’t making it any better, worsening second by second, especially when he keeps making you laugh with his silly comments. 
“I need to cool off.” 
Steve brushes his fingers through your hair and tucks it behind your ears, “cool off? Why, am I this hot?” He jokes, wiggling his eyebrows at you. 
You snort and place your hands on his chest and run your finger down his stomach, hooking it around his belt,  “you’re such a dork.”
Your dork. 
His lips curl into a smirk, he leans down close enough that your noses brush, “mhm, you like it though.” 
Yes, you do, you really do. 
You gaze into his honey eyes, breathing in the scent of his cologne, getting lost in his touch as his hands hold your waist. 
“You know what else I’d like?” You whisper against his lips as you give him a soft kiss, making his breathing hitch and his heart stammer. 
“Hmm?” 
Steve blinks at you, excitement bubbling in his stomach. 
“A cold beer.”
He chuckles, he expected something else but he can’t complain, not when you give him another short kiss. 
You bite your lip and step away from him, letting his hands fall to his sides. You bring your hands up to the buttons of your dress, walking backwards slowly and continuing to gaze into his eyes with mischief in yours, you undo the top buttons, revealing your new bra to him. You almost giggle at his parted lips and the hunger in his eyes. 
Steve gulps as you expose more and more of your skin to him, he could fall to his knees right then and there.
“Don’t take too long,” you murmur, winking at him. You walk away from him and into his living room, humming as you turn on the lights in his backyard before you slide open the big glass doors and step outside. 
The night is quiet and hot, the only sound coming from the crickets and the slight rustling of the trees as soft wind blows through them and then Steve turns on the stereo in the living room, making you smile. You look up at the starry sky and listen to Steve’s footsteps. 
You push the straps of your dress down your shoulders and kick off your shoes, looking over your shoulder to see Steve rushing out with two beers in his hands. 
He places them on the table and steps towards you, tutting at you with a playful glare on his pretty face, “could’ve let me take that pretty dress off,” he murmurs and places his hands on your elbows where your straps hang loosely now. 
His hands are cold from the beers he picked out of the fridge, goosebumps rise on your skin. 
“I didn’t take it off yet,” you shrug, smirking as your hands find their way back to his belt, and you waste no time to unbuckle it. 
Steve smirks back at you, tracing your skin with the tips of his fingers as he slips the straps down your forearms and pushes your dress down, bunching it around your hips, he sucks in a sharp breath and his eyes grow darker, lustful. It certainly isn’t the first time he sees you like this, but his reaction never changes, his body always reacts to you, just the way his heart does. 
You look so beautiful, so goddamn sexy that it drives him crazy. 
Not many words are shared between you but the silence is comfortable and your eyes speak enough words as you undress each other, you take his shirt off and place your hand on his chest, staring at him in awe as he pushes your dress down and lets it fall to the ground, his hands touching your bare skin, fingers tracing your lacy underwear. 
With hooded eyes he looks down at you and he pulls you closer, “is this little set new?” 
You nod, your skin heating up again. 
“Looks so pretty,” he murmurs and leans in to press his lips against your neck, “too bad it’s gonna get wet.”
You sigh at the feeling of his kisses, breathing shakily. 
You start pushing his jeans down, looking up at him with pleading eyes, “take your pants off, Steve.”
“Yes ma’am,” he chuckles and pushes them down his legs, he quickly steps out of them and bends down, hooking his arm around the back of your knees, he scoops you up into his arms, laughing at the surprised squeal that falls from your lips. 
You throw your arms around his neck and hold on tight, looking at him bewildered while he smirks smugly. 
“What are you doing?” 
He steps closer to the edge of his pool, “what do you think I’m doing?” He chuckles, not giving you time to react before he tightens his hold on you and takes another step forward, jumping into the pool and crashing into the water with you, letting the cold envelope you both. 
And you feel it, you feel the freezing water on your skin, the goosebumps that rise and the shivers that ripple through you but not even this takes away the heat you feel inside of you. You taste the chlorine on your lips and you feel his hands on your waist as he pulls you back up with him. 
“Is that cool enough for you, honey?” He asks breathily as he wipes his hand down his face and shakes his head to get the water out of his hair. 
You giggle and stretch your arms out, “mhm, the water feels nice,” you murmur and tilt your head up, glancing at the stars in the sky, smiling at the sound of one of yours and his favorite songs playing on the stereo. 
Steve starts humming along, his eyes tracing your pretty features, your wet hair that still somehow looks just as perfect as it did before, water rolls down your face, your lacy bra now clinging even more to your skin making his hands itch for you. 
The water sloshes around him as he moves closer to you, wanting to feel your body back against his but you seem to have different ideas because when you notice him inching closer to you, you give him a teasing smirk before you turn around and start swimming. 
“Hey!” 
You giggle at the disappointed sound in his voice, that sighs that follows after. 
You feel his hand brushing your foot but unable to get a hold of you, you pick up your pace and start swimming faster, pushing against the water stronger, “you can’t catch me, Lego Head.”
He shakes his head, letting out a laugh. 
“You think you can get away from me?” He teases, diving deeper into the water, he starts swimming after you, “I was a lifeguard, honey.”
“Yeah, you’ve been bragging about it for three years now,” you snort and dare to take a look over your shoulder, “you must’ve been a bad one, ice cream man.”
He laughs again, amused by your comment and by how you slowed down. 
“You’re so funny.”
“I know,” you smirk and turn around again, thinking you can still get away from him but Steve is close, so very close. This time he catches you by your ankle, wrapping his hand around it and pulling you back, chuckling at the squeal that falls from your lips, he grabs your waist and embraces you with his arms, pulling against his chest, he holds you tightly, chuckling at the pout on your lips when you look back at him with a frown on your face. 
“Not fair,” you whine and wiggle against him which prompts you to press yourself harder into his chest, into his front, you can feel his bulge against your butt, you can feel how hot his skin is despite the cool water, his hot breath on your shoulder, his lips on your neck. 
You breathe in shakily, the heat inside of you rushing into your core, making you press your legs together as a deep longing takes over you. 
“Guess you’re not that fast after all, huh?” He teases, loving the way your bare skin feels against his. “Didn’t even take me thirty seconds to catch you.” 
You hold onto him tighter, glancing at his lips before your eyes lock with his again, “maybe I just let you catch me.” 
He chuckles, adoring the way you look at him. 
“Yeah sure, Blondie.” 
He wraps his arms tighter around your waist as he starts guiding you away from the middle of the pool and towards the stairs. 
“So what now, do you plan on drowning me?” You joke. 
The water gets lower and lower, exposing your upper body to the cooling wind, making you shiver a little. 
“No, too late for that,” he jokes back with a chuckle, “but I am thinking of something.” 
You tilt your head to the side and raise your brows at him. He moves away from behind you and reaches for your hand as he takes three steps up the stairs, enough to still be in the water once he sits down before you. He licks his lips as he looks you up and down with need and adoration in his eyes, he admires your body, your curves, you. He pulls you a little closer, the water is still hiding your hips, your legs that he loves having wrapped around his waist and his head. 
“What?” You ask softly and curiously. 
Steve looks at you with hooded eyes, with cheeks glowing pink and lips begging to be kissed. 
“I want to fuck you, right here, right now, in my pool, and–” he rasps, glancing up at the sky above you, he points his finger up, “under the full moon.”
Your eyes widen at his words, butterflies that never die growing wild in your stomach, your kneels almost buckle and you have to press your thighs together. 
You follow his gaze and frown when you only see the stars in the sky and the quarter of the moon. 
“That’s not a full moon, Steve–” you gasp when you suddenly feel his hands on your waist and he forces you closer, prompting you to straddle his waist. Your knees hit the steps he’s sitting on, your arms wrap around his neck instinctively. 
“You’re a stupid moron,” you whisper with no venom in your voice or your eyes. 
Steve blinks, smirking at you. 
“And you are too naive,” he whispers back, squeezing your waist as you lean into each other, not even noticing that you did as you shared your soft whispers. 
You smile at one another, your noses brushes and you close your eyes as your lips meet in a soft kiss, a kiss enough to steal your breath. 
You move your palm down his strong shoulder, squeezing his bicep and resting your other hand on his back, deepening the kiss as he parts your lips with his tongue, blessing you with the sound of his moan. 
Steve runs his hand down your waist and to your hips, gripping your body tightly, pulling you closer and closer until you’re flush against him. He can’t help but gasp when you grind against his erection, filling him with more need. 
Your soft kiss grows faster, hungrier, needy but still passionate and despite the lack of air, you don’t pull away just yet. You run your hand down his hairy chest, his stomach, making him shiver against you. You tug at his boxers, pulling them down just far enough for you to wrap your hand around his dick. 
“Baby,” he whispers against your lips, continuing to press kisses to your mouth as he tugs at your panties, “let me–”
“No,” you whisper as you jerk him off slowly, pumping him a few times and teasing his slit with your thumb, “I need you.” 
You don’t need no preparation, you don’t need his fingers or his tongue, not right now, you only need him, to feel him, all of him. 
“F-Fuck,” he breathes shakily, moaning at the feeling of your soft hand around him, “please… I want you, I need you so bad.”
You whimper as his fingers dig deeper into your skin, his words rushing to your heart and your core. 
You push your panties to the side and waste no other second to guide him to your entrance, looking into his pleading eyes that watch you in awe as you sink down on him, taking him slowly and moaning out his name in pleasure as your eyebrows scrunch together. The water pressure making it a little harder to do so, and it is a weird yet not unpleasant feeling. 
“J-Just like that, baby,” he whimpers, his hands holding you tightly, his eyes flickering between your face and your body, the pleasure in him growing deeper and stronger, “you’re doing so well… fuck… you feel so good,” he groans when he feels your warmth enveloping him fully. 
His right hand settles on your lower back, moving up to the middle and the top and then he wraps his hand around the back of your neck so he can pull you even closer, he presses his lips back to yours, pecking them one, two, three times. 
“Steve,” you whimper, tears brimming in your eyes from the pleasure in your body, from the size of him. You bite down on your lip and suppress a moan, when you’re fully seated on top of him, you feel a wave of different emotions rushing through you. His kisses, his touches, his hugs and his compliments, the sweet things he says to you, the sweet things he does for you overwhelming you in the best way possible. 
Something changed, something was different today, this feels different. 
You pull him into an even deeper kiss than before, letting your emotions take full control over your actions. 
Steve doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate the sudden kiss, he even smiles into it, feeling his heart beating in joy. 
You start riding him slowly, moving your hips at a torturing pace as you’re still getting used to his size. You’re clenching around him, your slick coating his dick and Steve feels it all so intensely. 
The strap of your bra slips down your wet arm but you don’t bother to fix it.
Steve cups your cheeks as your tongues clash together, your needy whimpers vibrate against his lips but he notices how quiet they sound compared to moans and screams you let out when you’re in his bed. 
“Let them out, baby,” he murmurs as you both pull away from the kiss, your breaths mingling together as your lips keep brushing against one another. He tucks your wet hair behind your ears and slips his hands down your body, settling on your hips, he gives you a lazy smile, his eyes already fucked out, “let me hear your pretty moans,” he whispers, trying to coax his favorite sounds out of you as he starts fucking up into you. 
You gasp and hold on tighter, furrowing your eyebrows even more, the feeling of him splitting you open, fucking you deeper making you whimper in need. 
“P-Public, neighbors might hear, Steve–” You whine as you meet his thrusts, continuing to roll your hips despite the nervousness that lingers in you from not wanting to get caught, but it’s hard to keep quiet when he feels so good. 
Steve couldn’t care less about his neighbors, the bushes around his house hide his backyard well enough, there is no need to worry. 
“Let them hear,” he whispers into your neck as he presses his lips to your delicate skin. 
Your heart stutters in your chest, surprise sparks in you because he wants people to hear you, both of you, he doesn’t care about hiding, he didn’t care about it at all today. 
His strong hands hold your hips, his cock sliding in and out of you, sending waves of pleasure through your belly, his moans echo through the night and you can’t help but get lost in the moment of this. 
You bury your fingers in his hair and your face in his neck, whining as you pick up the pace, riding him faster than before, causing the water to splash around you both. His chest hair brushes against your boobs, his lips suck on your skin, his moans vibrate against you as he kisses you through it all. 
“Just like that,” he hums, satisfaction tugging at him when he feels you drooling over his neck, your hot tears falling down on his skin, “look at me, honey, I wanna see your face.” 
You gather your strength to pull back far enough for him to see you and those tears he caused to fall from your eyes. You’re whimpering and clenching around him tightly, making him match the sounds that fall from your lips. 
His hazel eyes are dark, his lips puffy and cheeks redder than before, his wet skin glowing under the string lights in his backyard. God, he looks so beautiful, especially when he is moaning your name and clinging to you. 
He cups the side of your face and you make his heart flutter in his chest when you lean into his touch. 
For a moment, he leans back the slightest bit just to see you, to watch how you ride him, how you take him, how much pleasure he brings you, how your face scrunches up so prettily, how your lips curl into a pout, how your boobs threaten to spill out of your bra as you bounce on his dick, whimpering his name, over and over again. 
God, he loves you, he loves you so fucking much that it physically hurts him to hide those words from you, everything inside of him screams at him to say them, to let you know, to confess to you, to show you how much he wants you, how deep his feelings for you are. 
His own eyes burn with tears, pleasure and emotions mixing together as he watches you, convinced that there is something behind your eyes as well, feelings, adoration, love. 
There has to be something, right? 
You wouldn’t hold his hand just for the fun of it, you wouldn’t kiss him and let him feel you, have you like this if there wasn’t something in your heart for him. You wouldn’t spend nights in his arms and dinners with him if it was casual. 
It’s not casual, it just can’t be. 
You have to feel it too, you have to feel the love. 
You just have to. 
Your name falls from his lips and when you wrap your arms around him again and you lean your forehead against his, gazing into his eyes with something, you grow tighter around him, making his moans louder. 
I love you. 
He traces words into your skin that he can’t say out loud because he is too afraid to lose you because while there is hope in him, there is also fear, fear that he is misunderstanding something again. 
I love you. I love you. I love you. 
Steve wants to whisper them to you, to say them to you, to scream them out into the open for the whole world to hear. 
“You’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers, making your heart explode in your chest. 
“So are you,” you whisper back, shakily, wishing you could say something else, something more. 
Steve looks up at you as though you’re something special, like you aren’t the girl he once hated, like you are his and it prompts you to peck his lips, over and over again just the way he always does to you. 
Waves of pleasure crash over the both of you as you chase your high together, you moan against each others lips as his hand moves down your stomach and his fingers settle between your thighs, no words are spoken anymore when he presses against your clit gently, rubbing circles against your sensitive nub, your high pitched moans, his deep thrusts and the begging looks in both your eyes are enough. 
You kiss and you both move, faster than before, you cling to one another harder, stronger, deeper than ever, your lips moving feverishly with each other, desperation and love behind all your movements, a searing heat cursing through you both, overwhelming your poor hearts that long for each other so pleadingly. 
And when you both reach your peak, Steve has to press his lips strongly to yours so he doesn’t spill the words that become harder to keep in. He kisses you for as long as he can, he kisses you through your high and through the aftermath, your movements slow down and your hearts beat slower, he still doesn’t pull away, if anything, he tightens his arms around you, not wanting this moment to end, not wanting this night to end. 
He wants to smile, he wants to feel happy but a part of him is so scared, after tonight especially. 
You showed him something that he could lose at any given moment, you made him feel things he didn’t even think he was capable of feeling, you lit the fire inside of him again, you made his heart feel again, you made him love again, stronger than he ever did before, he didn’t even think a love like this was possible, he didn’t think he could love so deeply. 
What will there be if he loses you? 
He experienced heartbreak before but nothing would compare to this, not even his first love could make him feel such excruciating pain that you will curse him with when you decide to leave him. 
His heart pains at the thought, it already begins to break just thinking of the possibility. 
Steve clings to you, when you pull away from the kiss, he buries his face in your neck and breathes you in, he holds you tightly as though he is afraid that you might disappear if he lets you go. 
He needs to feel you, he needs you against him, he needs to savor every moment you still allow him with you. 
Steve can’t bear to lose you, not you, he can get through anything, he can get over anything but not you. 
And while he is filled with fear, inwardly begging for you to stay, for you to be the one to be by his side – you are holding onto him with hope, with a smile on your face, unaware of the fear that lingers in the man that you love with all your heart.
You never thought you’d be in this position. That you’d ever feel like this when it came to Steve. You never thought you would feel confident in this relationship, potential, a future in it. The fear slowly decreases in each caress he gives you, in every touch, in every kiss. A fear you never thought you would lose in your life.
All you ever imagined in this love you had for him was pain. Everything ended in pure heartbreak and loneliness for you. Now, that image doesn’t come to mind. That picture you painted is no longer vivid in your head. 
And this is when you realize that you have a chance. You truly have a chance.
You decide to push it all aside, the anxiety, the fear of rejection, the fear of loss, you push it all away, no longer allowing the sadness and the fear to control you, if today wasn’t the push that you needed then you don’t know what else will. 
All the signs you weren’t sure of are there, they are there, colorful and bright, for you to see so clearly and you no longer move away from them, you move towards them, allowing yourself to feel hope that he can feel the same. 
And when you two go to bed that night after a long shower together, you cuddle and you kiss each other sweetly, whispering words of affection to one another, tracing each other's skin and holding one another tight. 
You make a decision. 
Tomorrow… Tomorrow will be the day you decide to confess. It cannot wait any longer. It cannot be postponed. It is inevitable, and you cannot handle the pain of loving him and being just this item with him any longer, especially not after this night. 
Having him like this is no longer enough. 
Keeping those three words in becomes less possible after every kiss, every touch, every whisper.
Tomorrow your life will change. 
And hopefully for the better. 
tagging friends and mutuals
@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn0628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars @moon-flowerrs
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strawberrymochin · 2 months
Text
A Letter.....Long Lost!
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kyojuro rengoku x fem!reader
word count- 12.2k
synopsis- the discovery of an old letter from kyojuro rengoku's room shakes the world of tanjiro. he thought he fulfilled every wish of rengoku. however he missed one. tanjiro needs to deliver it to the one it was written for; but the letter has nothing written except a name 'y/n'. who is y/n and how will tanjiro find her?
genre/warnings- post war timeline/ mentions of death/ slice of life/ angst/ fluff/ lots of flashbacks/ kamaboko trio going on a quest to find reader/ emotionally unavailable parents/ just read it i swear it wont disappoint/ comfort/ scenes of rengoku and mitsuri training/ mentions of mugen train
a/n- i had this idea in my head and i literally wrote this in two days. Loosely based off a film I'm obsessed with...this is my first time writing a long fic. im hella nervous. it will have a sequel with a reincarnation au and smut. not fully proof read, ignore small errors.
Nezuko chimed in as urokodaki made his appearance. Soon more people will join in. Kanao and aoi are helping in the kitchen, making several dishes while inosuke is trying to get aoi give him some to taste.
Tanjiro and zenitsu are spreading out the mats for people to sit and get comfy.
“urokodaki sensei! Please come and join.” tanjiro said noticing his former teacher, carrying a huge basket wrapped in a cloth with water patterns similar to his haori. Nezuko trails behind him bringing another basket.
“i brought some mitarashi dango and some hanami-zake for everyone.” said urokodaki with a soft voice, that made nezuko wonder if he was smiling under his tengu mask.
It's been 2 years since the war ended. People lost their dear ones with a pain bearing smile. Some endured injuries that would sustain through out their life marking them as ‘crippled’; while some sacrificed themselves for the greater good.
Seasons changed since then.
So did several people.
People who turned their hearts into stone, heavy from guilt of their family dying; who suffered from the culpability of being protected…
“giyuu san’s here too, please sit inside with the others while we get the stuff ready.”
“yeah how's your sister? I brought her some new kimonos”
A mild smile forming on his lips.
Tanjiro’s eyes widened a bit. It's kinda still new to him seeing such a soft side of the guy who barely used to smile.
……have let their guard down, allowing themselves to move on, now that there's no more threat hanging in the air.
People who had been afflicted by the remorseful long sleepless nights of trauma; killing the one who once bore them in her womb; whose eyes had become dull and frantic, dying inside in agony…..
“oi tomioka! Move outta my way!” grumbled sanemi, throwing a box wrapped in a delicate green cloth in tanjiro's direction as he catches it with difficulty. Having a hand crippled like an old man is sure a poor thing, not that tanjiro minds that.
“ahh the scary guy's here again! Don't touch the box tanjiro. It must've been poisoned!!!” shouted zenitsu, panicking around, hiding himself behind tanjiro.
“What did you just say?” Sanemi’s eyes narrowed at zenitsu, veins becoming more prominent, ready to throw a first at the blonde head's face.
“Goddamn shinazugawa! Don't scare the kid…” said giyu, grabbing his wrist and pulling him inside. “Wh-you’re such a creep tomioka!”
“Kk.”
“Stop giving me that kanroji face!” sanemi said as shivers ran down his spine. Somehow a smiling tomioka was scarier than muzan to him.
…have let go of their distraught, accepting the dreams which they wanted for their loved ones. Fulfilling it in their place.
“Both of them are creeps!” Zenitsu said digging his nails into tanjiro's skin as he spit curses on them. “Zenitsu they are gone now, can you please give this box to kanao san, it smells of fresh ohagi.”
“I'm telling you…it's fuckin poisoned”
“It's not, zenitsu…don't be like that” tanjiro pushed him away with the box. He then took up a broom and started sweeping any other leaves that fell down from the trees.
Pink flowers blossomed everywhere, now that another peaceful season had arrived.
Kanao had suggested nezuko and aoi that they should spend time together this hanami festival. Nezuko and aoi agreed to that instantly. Thus this is how they ended up inviting everyone at tanjiro's, whose house was surrounded by a lots of cherry blossoms.
Kiyo chan naho chan and sumi chan were playing with tengen’s baby as Suma kept pestering urokodaki san for loosening his face mask (I can't blame my lil curious mommy). Makio was sure annoyed at her behavior while hinatsuru just chuckled. Murata sat stiff in the presence of four former hashiras.
Almost all of them had arrived. Except the rengokus.
Aoi brought them some appetizers, as they kept on chatting. After decorating the food all of them would join outside admiring the moment of bliss.
“Senjuro Kun and shinjuro san ain't here yet right?” Asked tengen.
“They haven't made their arrival yet” announced aoi, “however tanjiro san is waiting outside for them, the food is almost done, we can start after they get here”
“HAHAHAHA…. RUSHING IN LIKE A BOAR!!!” inosuke dashed in with a sakura onigiri in his mouth, from the kitchen. “WAhahhh scar guy!! Fight me!” As expected from inosuke, nothing could ever stop him. At first he was a bit spooked seeing a lot of people at once and sticked to aoi till his normal composure returned.
“Still that dumb boar head! Will he ever get mature?” Sanemi grumbled lazily. “I agree” said giyu, smiling at sanemi, which almost made his stomach churn. Tengen bursted out in laughter, “I see you are still in spirit huh? Quite flamboyant of you.”
“YEAH THE GOD OF MOUNTAINS INOSUKE SAMA IS ALWAY—” Aoi smacked him on his head and dragged him away while muttering some apologies to the hashiras.
“He's still much of energy…and his voice has become much hoarse ain't it? I still remember taking those kids on that mission. And this kid in particular was such a ruckus.” Said tengen, stretching his arms.
“Isn't it good to see all of us after so long without having to fear losing someone?” Said hinatsuru, makio and Suma smiled at each other.
“But we had already lost many people.” Sanemi sighed. He wished he could apologize to genya. If life ever gives him another chance he would like to be a little less aggressive.
“If you keep sulking like that, your brother will definitely curse you from heaven.” giyu took a gulp of the matcha tea, sanemi sent at tanjiro's a month ago.
“Now that there are no demons, you two get along with each other quite well don't you think so?” Tengen threw the snarky question at them.
“what the—”
“I wish rengoku could have seen you guys like this…remember the one time himejima san told us that oyakata sama wanted to see giyu smile….”
“See me smile?”
“Yeah, what a waste of time i swear.”
“Rengoku disappeared for a while to buy glasses in order to make giyu smile.” laughed tengen.
“It didn't work though and then kochou emotionally blackmail me to make him laugh.”
“Oh so this is why you wanted to have sake daikon with me?” Giyu smiled again at sanemi.
“I swear if you make that kanroji face again at me, I will kick you on your balls.”
“Everyone food’s ready, let's go and sit outside!!” Said nezuko halting the heated nostalgic conversation of the two.
Murata finally lets himself relax a bit as the hashiras start moving out. Urokodaki slammed a hand at his back, as he felt his stiff posture return. “Don't be so stiff we aren't gonna ask you to duel.” murata’s cheeks reddened in embarrassment as urokodaki laughed off at the kid's nervousness.
These days are indeed peaceful.
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Senjuro made his appearance a bit late. He apologized for his fathers absence, blaming on his health. It's not been that best for a few days.
“Oh goodness, is he really going to be fine, we can go run a check up on him you know?” Kanao offered an idea, worried about the shinjuro’s health.
“Thanks a lot. Actually there's something that has been troubling us for a while.”
“Is everything okay?” Tanjiro's asked with concern lacing his eyes. Sanemi noticed, he had always been kind. He was kind to his brother. During hashira training when tanjiro stepped over the line, it actually made sanemi kinda happy and relaxed. Atleast genya had someone in life he could rely on.
Shinjuro's put down his bowl and chopstick on the mats as he brought his hand to his knees.
“There's something we found a month ago….while cleaning aniki’s room.”
Not only tanjiro but tengen, giyu, sanemi, zenitsu and inosuke froze for a second. The untimely death of the young guy was such a sad event that has ached their hearts for a long time.
Tanjiro could smell senjuro’s emotions and it was odd. It wasn't sadness, or guilt, or anger. It was pity. And somehow it stinged tanjiro, the same way it did years ago.
Senjuro took out some bunch of old papers from the sleeves of his yukata.
Tanjiro's throat felt dry and uneasy. It were a bunch of letters.
All of them looked like they were forgotten for months. The letter envelopes had stained yellow and some even have their edges teared off. But it sure emitted a strong smell. The smell of kyojuro rengoku. Tanjiro's still remembers the distinct hints of his aura. And it somehow still lingered around these letters. Especially the one which was sealed.
“What is it?” asked aoi, finally breaking the deafening silence. A strong gust of wind blew the pink petals along with the letters from senjuro's hand. It's scattered around the mats as all of them tried to collect them.
“Y….y/n?” read nezuko aloud. She hold the sealed letter in her hand as tanjiro extended his palm to grab it. It had tear stains. One side of it had brush marks written ‘to y/n’. The ink has now blurred a bit. But it was still readable.
“What's the meaning of all this?” Tengen asked, grabbing one of the opened letters in his hand. Giyu had hold of one reading in pure shock, while sanemi pondered from the side. Eyes as shocked as giyu’s.
“What happened tengen-sama?” asked makio, seeing all of their disturbed expressions. Zenitsu tried to snatch away the papers from inosuke who was trying to eat it.
“We found these letters from aniki’s room. A lady named y/n had sent those letters to him. An—?”
“And that lady was his lover?” asked giyu.
“What nonsense!”
“He never mentioned any of that to me.” frowned tengen.
“Nor did aniki said anything about it at home. At that time our father didn't pay us any attention. He was drowned totally in despair from the death of our mother. Seeing us only infuriated his anger and sorrow. Aniki would train or be at missions and he was rarely at home. He never told me anything about that….”
‘A letter?’ thought tanjiro. He started sweating all of a sudden. He thought he fulfilled all his wishes but—
“Rengoku san! Please think about yourself, can you stop the bleeding with your breathing technique?” Tanjiro has muttered those words back then, panickingly, devastatingly.
He wanted rengoku to say yes. He wanted him to live beside him, fight beside him, eat beside him. But he didn't get that as an answer.
“No, very soon i'll be dead. Before that happens, i need you to hear me out. I have a younger brother named senjuro. Please tell him to follow his heart. And walk down the path he feels is right.” Rengoku’s face had the same content smile, which warmed their hearts up. He continued, “And tell my father to look after himself…and lastly…”
Rengoku went on and expressed his views on nezuko. It felt like a warm hug. Someone has accepted nezuko. Not because they pitied her but since they saw her true potential and that she was no harm to humans. And now when he remembers it clearly, there was something rengoku whispered before his heart stopped pumping.
It was a faint whisper. So subtle that tanjiro thought it was his ears ringing. But now that he recalls, after he said he trusted them as a slayers, he whispered a few words
“and the lette—”
Rengoku stopped mid sentence as tanjiro kept weeping. He wasn't looking at tanjiro but something behind him. It made him smile as he took his last breath.
“Oni-chan? What happened? Are you okay?” Nezuko pulled tanjiro out of his daze. Everyone was looking at him worriedly. Even sanemi was worried.
“I've not fulfilled rengoku san’s last wishes. I- i haven't. I haven't delivered…how can I be so dumb!!”
“What? Tanjiro san! Calm down! You told us everything aniki wanted to say to us.” Senjuro tried to comfort tanjiro.
“No…before dying he whispered something. I thought my ears were ringing but he did whispered something. It was about a letter.” tanjiro kept on babbling as everyone felt dead silent even senjuro couldn't move his hands.
The sealed letter stayed in tanjiro's hands.
Something that belonged to the girl named y/n.
Something probably dear to kyojuro rengoku.
Some words which were waiting since 3 years.
But…..who is y/n?
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The rest of hanami festival gathering went by silent. Senjuro entrusted the letter to tanjiro as per as his request before leaving early since he need to be home before sunset to check upon his father. Murata and urokodaki san accompanied him on the way.
“That's completely ridiculous. None of us have any idea who the fuck this y/n is? how are the fuck are you even planning to find her?” Sanemi spit out bitter words at tanjiro, sitting on the porch, watching the sun slowly turn a deep shade of orange. It reminded him of rengoku’s odd hair colour. It's funny how not only he, but his tsugoku also had weird hair colour— a colour which was dear to Iguro obanai.
Tanjiro lowered his head, smiling a bit. Sanemi changed a lot, even if he speaks harshly, he can only smell pure concern. “But I can't start a new life without paying my debts. Rengoku san saved my life. Whoever lady y/n is….I need to deliver this letter to her.”
“I get what you're saying…but there's no address in any part of the letter. Moreover you are being hesitant on opening it. How do you think you will find her then?” Tengen spoke from the back, alerting the former wind hashira and tanjiro. Both wondered how long he's been eavesdropping them. They expect nothing less. He was a hashira and before that he was a ninja. Even after losing one arm and one eye, he still holds the same power.
“Honestly, I've no idea. But I just can't sit and let it slide.” said tanjiro.
“you’re getting married to kanao next year. Better focus on that. Don't get into useless troubles hanging her off.” sanemi said lazily, yawning and getting up to his feet, stretching a bit. “I will be leaving then. Take care.” Tanjiro didn't reply to him.
Tengen shared a look with sanemi. His eyes shooting a mischievous look filled with pride. Tengen has been in a mission with tanjiro and he knows how stubborn he can be. He knows how pure of a heart he had. And how he even had empathy for demons. He knows sanemi have to surrender infront of him.
Annoyed, sanemi rolled his eyes, “if you're that insistent on finding the girl, then why not refer to kasugai crows. Rengoku's crow might know something about the girl.” He suggested as tengen was in literal awe. He never thought sanemi could ever think logically with his brain. Tanjiro’s head perked up in joy at his idea. Now he finally has a path to look up. Sanemi felt awkward and took his leave, avoiding to look in their eyes.
“Ah! Shinazugawa san! Thanks for the idea!!”
“That brat finally seems to work a bit humane ain't he ?!” A deep laugh bubbled up tengen’s throat.
“I’m happy that he has softened a little now that demons have perished. However, about rengoku san’s kasugai crow, do you know where do I get in contact with it?”
“About that, i would recommend writting letter to kiriya sama. I'm sure he would know.” Tengen patted his head with a reassuring smile.
Soon he took his leave with his wives and giyu, since they were going to an onsen. Basically makio Suma and hinatsuru dragged him along forcefully. Giyu looked a bit tired but he was happy.
Things changed and improved rapidly in a short time. Zenitsu and nezuko got married last year. Murata also got engaged. Tanjiro couldn't help but wonder if the lady named y/n had moved on or not? Will rengoku san be happy if she found someone else? Will he be sad? He looked at nezuko smiling at zenitsu as he played with kiyo, naho and sumi. He looked at inosuke giving his shiniest acorns to aoi. He looked at kanao, smiling delicately, just like shinobu did.
He was happy.
But was the lady named y/n happy in her life?
Kanao looked at him and smiled. She came near him and took his wrinkled hand in hers. “Tanjiro san, you know I would really like you to deliver this letter to y/n san before we start a new life.”
“Even if it takes time?”
“Even if it does. I will wait for you for an eternity.” Tanjiro chuckled as red tints his cheeks. How pure kanao’s heart is? How did he get so lucky to have her in his life? God knows.
“Then I will write a letter to kiriya.”
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After a few days, a letter arrived from ubuyashiki's. Along with that two kasugai crows were found circling over the house. Among them one belonged to tanjiro, when he was a demon slayer— tennoji.
The other was the one who accompanied rengoku till his last breath. Kiriya felt sad for rengoku and wrote his kind regards to tanjiro sending the crow to him. His name was kaname.
The crow looked pretty much normal and wasn't as hot -tempered as tennoji.
This was the first time tanjiro had seen him. “Hello, kaname san. Sorry for summoning you all of a sudden. But I wanted to ask you something…” the crow didn't reply, but tilted his head at tanjiro.
“I-ahh- do you know anything about a lady named y/n?”
The crow remained quite for a while, as if reminiscing the days which followed great sorrow. “Master's…y/n sama…master's lover…letters…”
His words were what tanjiro was expecting. Tanjiro finally saw a path clear.
“Can you tell me where she lives?” Asked tanjiro hopefully.
The crow shaked his head,“i don't know.”
Slightly disappointed, tanjiro started asking how she looked. The crow wasn't exactly able to describe her. Accepting his defeat, he asked the crow where he saw her for the first time. Maybe if he goes there, he will be able to find her.
“tokyo…capital…mission..”
the crow wasn't that helpful, they only got to know two things.
First- whoever this y/n is, she was rengoku's lover.
Second- rengoku's crow saw her in tokyo, the capital.
This indicates maybe rengoku and the people who went to the mission in tokyo as said by the crow, if alive, they might know something about it. Tanjiro wrote updates to the others.
A few days later, giyu’s letter came along with some sweets. In that he wrote that rengoku went to tokyo for a battle with lower moon 2 back then. Oyakata sama had assigned him to that mission, before he was a hashira. There were a bunch of people accompanying him, one of them being kanroji mitsuri.
Oh! Mitsuri kanroji was his tsugoku, tanjiro almost forgot about that, he got excited to ask her when reality struck him down. She died after the war. Even if she knew y/n tanjiro couldn't ask her.
He continued reading the letter from giyu as the path which formed in his mind started getting blurry.
Upon hearing from tanjiro, kanao dropped by at the kamado’s. She said she might have one way to get to know about y/n. Tanjiro's eyes perked up at kanao’s remark, which almost made kanao’s heart jolt since he was so cute.
Kanao explained, when shinobu was alive, she had once told her that mitsuri was close to a kakushi couple. She further said that mitsuri used to write letters to them about her missions on a regular basis. Those two even came to congratulate her when she was promoted to hashira. She said it was nice to see that a girl around her age so lively.
Tanjiro wrote a letter to kiriya again. And next week when tanjiro went out with inosuke to sell some charcoal in the city, a couple came to visit them.
Nezuko welcomed them, while zenitsu narrowed his eyes on them, especially upon the male.
When tanjiro returned home he was delighted to find the kakushi couple still waiting for him. They didn't hide their faces anymore. Dressed normally as regular citizens. Honestly they were pretty young, and tanjiro admired how they served the corps group keeping them intact.
“I'm so glad you both came.” Tanjiro bowed infront of them in gratitude.
“Oh no, that's completely fine. We are happy to be of any help. Oyakata sama said you wanted to know about mitsuri.” said the woman.
“Ahh not exactly about her, but for instance, do you have any idea if she ever mentioned a name called ‘y/n’?” tanjiro said pulling inosuke back beside him as he kept munching on the snacks for the guests. The guy gave him a creeped stare as he focused back on tanjiro's words.
“y/n? No I don't think so….she ever mentioned that name. Did she tanaka san?” The woman said.
Tanjiro felt anxious as the guy named tanaka tilted his head to think a bit.
“Nope I don't think she did.”, he clarified.
“Oh….” Tanjiro's voice was barely a whisper, that even inosuke sat straight checking if he's alright.
“Is there something else we can do, tanjiro kun? You look upset.”
“No no…it's fine. I was just trying to deliver a letter to rengoku san's love—”
“Rengoku san? Kanroji san’s master ain't it?” Tanaka spoke before tanjiro could finish his sentence.
“Yeah.”
“Oh my god? The one whom rengoku san loves was y/n?”
“You guys know her?” Hope shined bright in tanjiro's eyes. So did a fervent fear. Fear of disappointment. Fear of not being able to pay his debts. Fear of not fulfilling rengoku san's last wish.
“We didn't know about her name but kanroji san used to tell us about her…isn't it shimi san?” The guy turned to his wife with a fuzzy smile on his face.
“Yeah, she seemed so happy, wanting to have a love like them.” Said the wife.
And for the first time till now tanjiro wasn't let down. “Really? Did she lived in tokyo? Rengoku san's crow said he saw her for the first time during a mission.”
“A mission? No.” The wife let out a chuckle, “it started way before that. Kanroji san said….. ”
“Ahh! Master! Can we please have a break! I'm tired from hitting the sword, my limbs are sore.” Mitsuri cried barely holding another strike from her master.
“Haha you got tired this fast, we haven't even started.” the blazing hair resembling fire, moved swiftly as the guy attempted another strike on mitsuri, but thanks to a call outside, he stopped midway.
“Wait a bit, I will be back in a while.” Said kyojuro rengoku, her master. ‘i will be happy if you don't come back for a while.’ she thought as she collapsed on her knees, to exhausted to move.
“Ahh senjuro kun! Bring me some snacks please!!!” She shouted hoping for the little kid to hear.
A bit later, rengoku comes back. Senjuro looked at his elder brother, frowning while holding a letter. Mitsuri sat beside senjuro, who brought her some onigiris.
“What's that master?” She asked, stuffing another onigiri in her mouth.
“Even I'm confused. It's a letter but it wasn't delivered by a kasugai crow but by a postman.”
“Huh? Maybe it's from some neighbour wanting to lower your voice while eating.” Senjuro said shrugged off his shoulders as mitsuri suppress her laugh bubbling on her throat, almost choking on rice. It wasn't an irregular thing that neighbors anonymously complained about kyojuro shouting ‘umai’ every time he ate.
“Open it.” Said senjuro, curious what type of sarcastic words they might have chosen now.
Kyojuro did as his little brother requested. However kyojuro didn't reacted after reading the letter.
“Today's practice is over. You can relax.” He, then ordered senjuro to boil him some bathwater, shooing him away.
Senjuro obeyed his brother, while mitsuri felt kinda odd, yet she was happy to have a day off.
As soon as both of them left the backyard, rengoku blushed like crazy. The letter was still in his hand as he tried to digest the words.
“A love lett—” a big palm shut mitsuri’s mouth, preventing her from shouting. Yet she was squealing. “I thought you left! You've gotten quite quick in sly footing didn't ya? I'm impressed.” He finally removed his hand from mitsuri's mouth.
“Ofcourse you made me practice for 23 hours without sleep. Anyways, what's written in that?”
“Do you want me to make you practice for 2 days straight?”
“Naah I'm fine! But master, I'm happy.”
“Okay.”
“And curious too. Please let me read it.”
“No!”
After shooing mitsuri out of the backyard he tucked the letter in his sleeves. This letter was sure weird.
“Rengoku san thought that she didn't read the letter, but she had a strong memory and could remember each word after seeing it once. She was so excited telling us about that.” said the wife, looking outside the window at the moon.
The flame of the lantern flickered a bit. “So that might mean that the letter should be among those papers…”
“Woah zenitsu! I thought you were asleep?!”
“How am I supposed to sleep if you're talking that loudly idiot!”
Yeah the paper. There were a lot of papers. Some were smudged and unreadable, so they didn't read all of them. Tanjiro went over their cupboard and brought the bunch of papers.
“Can you identify the letter among them?” He asked the guy to inspect. The couple looked at each other. “Maybe we can try but the writings aren't clear.”
“Please if you can. I need to deliver that letter.” tanjiro bowed his head down begging to the couple.
“You're a nice kid, Tanjiro kun. We will surely help you.”
It's been more than twenty minutes since they are reading each and every paper. Inosuke got bored and slept on the tatami mats. Nezuko was already asleep so they didn't wanted to bother her.
“Yeah maybe this one. From what Kanroji san had explained, this seems to be the one.” The guy tanaka handed the delicate piece of paper to tanjiro.
“However, in each of these letters, she referred herself as his wife…I didn't know he was married…?”
“Huh?” Tanjiro frowned upon the man's words. ‘what?’ he checked the letters again. And the guy was right, y/n did refer herself as his wife. They didn't read the papers as carefully since they were long, they just assumed she was his lover. But rengoku san wasn't the one to hide such crucial information.
Tanjiro was confused, they were so focused on finding the address of y/n that they ignored reading the letters, which could provide information about her.
Tanjiro spent the entire night reading each word carefully. Fingers running across elegant handwriting and smudged ink. As he kept reading those with a pain in his heart. There were in total 7 of those letters, which were written to rengoku. And the one which tanjiro kept seemingly in care— the sealed one; one which has a strong smell of rengoku’s aura; one with tear stains.
The couple spent the night in their house and left the next morning after breakfast.
This helped but not that much. However the path had become clearer.
He knew that the girl was from a nice family who had hands in education from the curves in each characters of her words.
Second, she had mentioned that he had saved her and her friends from a fire, in yokaichi.
“I'm leaving for yokaichi.” Said tanjiro during breakfast.
“Eh? Oni- chan?”
“Don't worry nezuko, oni-chan will be back soon.”
“I will also go!” Said inosuke, “inosuke-sama will protect kamaboko gonpachiro, his minon from any harm.”
Tanjiro chuckled at how inosuke shows his care for him, “fine then.”
“Zenitsu san you also go with them…”
“Ehh, but nezuko chan won't you be lonely without me? I know you will be lonely without m—”
“I won't. You guys will be back soon. Till then I will be at butterfly mansion.”
“B-but nezuko channn!!!!” Inosuke dragged him away as nezuko watched the poor soul. She felt bad but she wanted him to be with her brother. She just felt that the three of them should go together.
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The three of them finally reached yokaichi town. It was small but quite dense in population. Tanjiro felt that this was an advantage for them since they stories and folks might spread fast in a vast social surroundings.
“Inosuke, zenitsu let's ask the older citizens first, since they might be living here for a while, they must have known about any fire incidents.”
“I was about to say the same thing as you.” Snorted the board masked guy rushing off in the east direction. Zenitsu simply nodded and went in the opposite direction, sulking. He has been giving tanjiro silent treatment since he had to leave nezuko alone.
Tanjiro sighed as he started finding old citizens nearby asking about a fire incident.
After asking a few of them, he sighed, it didn't really do any help, since many weren't able to hear and some weren't able to remember. When he asked the youngsters, they ran away seeing his old crippled hand.
Tanjiro, let down, returned to the spot where they had started searching. Inosuke was already there tapping his feet as he was waiting for the others.
“Did you find anything?” Asked tanjiro.
“Nahh! They were mere cowards. Running way from me. Though I liked it! Everyone should fear the great inosuke sama.” As expected from inosuke, zenitsu was yet to return. Both of them decided to wait till he comes back.
After a while, zenitsu came back. His sulking still hasn't tailed off. “Ahh zenitsu! Did you find anything? You took so long!!”
Zenitsu didn't reply.
He stared at him with dead eyes.
Oh god! Zenitsu’s moody phases are the worst, especially if it's an urgent task. The whining and sulking from a few years ago flashed in front of tanjiro’s eyes.
“You turned mute or what?” said inosuke, already having enough of zenitsu’s tantrums.
But the only reply that came from the blonde was an eye roll. Inosuke got pissed, ready to throw hands at him if not stopped by tanjiro.
“Zenitsu, I will get nezuko chan make sweet washagis for you when we get back home.”
“Really!! You better do that. I can't even explain how much I've missed my dear wife nezuko chan. She must be so lonely without me.” Babbled zenitsu, finally speaking for the first time till they left home.
“She won't.”
“Stop making snarky comments you stupid boar head. What do you even know about pure love between me and nezuko chan?!!!”
“Ahh zenitsu! Did you get to know anything?”
Zenitsu considered tanjiro a while, before giving in, “At the very west of this town, there's an inn. People said it almost burned down about four years ago…I looked for its owner but they said he will be back late.”
Tanjiro let out a breath. If that's the case, then the owner might remember the incident clearly. If only he could provide any useful information.
“Btw do you really believe whoever this y/n is…she's still alive?” Zenitsu scratched the back of his neck, shooing away the mosquitos ready to feed upon his blood. It's been long three of them are waiting in front of the inn for its owner to arrive.
“Let's just not lose hope.” The inn did looked like it suffered severe consequences from whatever happened 4 years ago. Most of it has been repaired but the aura and the smell can still be recognised. There are still some wooden planks with burn marks which are yet to be repaired.
“May I ask who you three are?”
A chilly voice turned their attention. There stood a thin, frail boy, barely an adult. His eyes were small with hair falling down on his brows. He speculated about them with a suspicious look in his eyes(especially on the boat masked guy). Was he the owner? He looked too young for that.
“Ahh good evening! I'm tan—”
“If you're wanting to stay the night, go somewhere else, I'm not opening the inn today.” He replied coldly before tanjiro could even introduce himself.
“Ahh no, you're misunderstanding…. actually we are here to ask you something about the incident four years ago…”
The look on the boy’s face changed from suspicion to disgust.
“Well…I don't wanna talk about it. You guys can leave.”
“No please, at least hear our questions. It's really important.”
“As if I care.”
“Hey fucker! If you don't answer I'll break each and every bone in your body.”
“Stop it inosuke!” This isn't going any better. It's almost night, they also need to find a place to stay.
“tanjiro can you move aside a bit” said zenitsu, without waiting for his reply, he went to the kid. Apparently he whispered something in his ears which seemed to have creeped the guy out.
Tanjiro gulped. He must be desperate to go home and see nezuko. Sometimes he forgets that their coward friend can be hell scary when it comes to nezuko.
“Okay. He's ready to spill anything he knows.” The look on the kids face made it clear he didn't wanted to recall anything about that incident. However tanjiro had no choice but to push him off the edge.
“Hey I'm sorry if we're causing you any trouble, but you know we really need to know anything you know about a girl named y/n.”
“Y/n?”
“Yeah. Heard it before?”
“No. There were none with this name.”
“Eh? Can you try to recall. There must be someone. A girl who was saved by rengoku san. A guy whose hair was similar to fire.”
“Kyojuro rengoku you mean? He pretty much saved everyone. The inn you see here, is small. Before the incident also it was small and not that popular. Only a few people stayed here occasionally. So I can be sure there was no one named y/n.”
An ‘oh’ is just what tanjiro could manage. The boy got inside the house behind the inn. The night fell and they were still in the same position as before.
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Inosuke was throwing tantrums in hunger, so they decided to go to an udon shop nearby. Perhaps they should not lose hope. Thinking empty stomach is not always the best option. This they were sitting in the shop waiting for their order to come.
“But she did mention in those letters that she was saved by him. How come the owner doesn't know anything about that?”
“I already told you we should have broken his bones, monjiro.”
“I think it's useless, let's just go back home to my nezuko chan.”
“Zenitsu! What if you were in place of rengoku san? Would you be happy if your last words don't reach nezuko?” zenitsu went silent at that.
They stayed silent till three bowls of hot udon were placed infront of them. Tanjiro and zenitsu thanked the server for the food whereas inosuke just shoved his head into the hot udon bowl. “You guys seem a bit tense, is everything okay? Asked the old man, the owner of the udon restaurant.
“Yeah we're just a bit disappointed.” Said tanjiro. “Haha and why so? Got rejected by a girl? Can't blame her, it's your hand.” The old man pointed at tanjiro's crippled hand. “What happened that's it's such in a bad condition?”
“Oh! It's…from…from a fight.” Tanjiro smiled, it's hard to offend him anyway,“ i already have a fiance and we are getting married soon.”
“Oh my god! Please forgive my mean words then. I wish you both happiness.”
“Thank you.”
“Then why pull a sad face. My udon tastes the best when you eat it with a good mood, ya know?!”
“Haha, I'm sure it will still taste good. Actually we were here wanting to acquire some information about the fire incident 4 years ago.”
“Oh that was such a bad one. If there wasn't that guy everyone would have lost their life…”
“Rengoku san? You mean?” Tanjiro's eyes perked up. “I see, you know kyojuro. Yeah, that boy was a regular in my shop. Although it's been more than three years since he last visited, i wonder how he's doing? Tell him to visit once, the old man misses him.” the man bursted in laughter while the three of them couldn't even managed to smile even once.
How are they even supposed to tell him, tell him that, “rengoku san died three years ago while saving us from…” zenitsu's voice trailed down into nothingness. So did the old man's. They didn't knew if he's aware about demons so they didn't exaggerated it anymore.
No one spoke for a while.
“I see. What did you guys want to know then? I'm sure you were close to him if he gave up on his life for you all…”
“do you know anyone named y/n? I need to deliver this letter to her.” tanjiro took out the yellow stained letter and handed it to the old man, who squinted his eyes on the writings, drawing a wrinkled finger tracing it's shapes.
“Y…y/n…..yeah she asked me to send some letters to his residence. The kid was young and beautiful.” he returned the letter back to tanjiro.
“She did?!”
“Yeah…that kid almost begged me to not tell kyojuro anything about that.”
The three of them looked at each other. “Can you tell us more about her?” “Do you know where she lives?” “Can I get a refill?” The three of them threw questions at the old man's face, whose lips creaked a bit. “Hmm, I don't know where she lives but I can tell you about her.” He said taking inosuke’s bowl to the counter for another refill.
The restaurant was almost empty so they went and sat on the round seats opposite of the counter.
“It was about four years ago when she appeared in my shop after kyojuro left….”
“umm excuse me…” you said
“Yeah young lady, what would you prefer?” asked the owner pointing at the chart hung on the wall which displayed all the items on the menu.
“I will take a hot tempura udon please.” said the girl beside you.
“And you miss?” The owner directed the question towards you. “Umm I will take anything you prefer.” “Ehh is that so? Fine, I'll make you the tastiest bowl of my special udon.”
“Just tell already…!” The girl beside you whispered into your ear, which was audible to the owner, he chuckled a bit. “Can you shut up….!!”
“I will if you say it…!”
“Okay fine!”
“Umm…if you don't mind, is there any way you can ask the address of the man who just left a while ago?” you asked hesitantly, fiddling with your fingers.
“Kyojuro you mean? I already know his residence, he made me deliver udon to his place before.” the owner said trying to keep his composure, young kids are just so bold nowadays.
“Is that so?” your eyes shined dreamily.
“Why harbored a crush on the man you saw a few mins ago? Hahaha!!” you felt blood rush to your cheeks as you couldn't find words to answer his question.
“She wants to thank him for saving her.” said the girl beside you. “Atsuko!” Atsuko just gave a smirk, ignoring how she threw you in such humiliation.
“Ah…if you don't mind then can you please deliver this letter to him anonymously. Don't tell him I asked you to send it. Please…I can pay you for that..”
“I don't need any payment. I will do that. You can just come and enjoy my special udon sometimes.” the owner accepted the letter from your hands, tucking it in his sleeves. “And maybe watch that man you talked about…he comes here around weekends.” The man hinted you the place which kyojuro normal has his lunch. And if you weren't blushing any harder, you felt your entire face burn with embarrassment. But you want to do it anyway.
Atsuko giggled beside you excited to see what happens next.
“So you delivered the letters in her stead?” asked zenitsu.
“Yeah…she kept coming back with letters for a good six months, if i remember correctly. Maybe kyojuro replied to them…”
It fell silent for a while. The only sound echoing was of inosuke slurping on the noodles.
“So, while you delivered letters rengoku san didn't knew her?” The guy with red eyes pointed the question at the owner.
“No i don't think so, she never came when he used to visit, that is, the weekends.”
“Can you tell us what was the name of her friend again?”
“Atsuko…if I remember correctly..”
“Can you describe how she looked?”
“Ehh? I can't really remember people's faces clearly, but she was very beautiful, big eyes with a nice soft skin. Her hair was long and dark. She had a soft voice. She looked like she belonged from a privileged family. So did her friend.”
“Oh is there anything specific you remember about her?”
“Hmm…let me think…if I'm not wrong rengoku once mentioned her name to a boy who tagged along with him. If you go to him i believe he could provide you some answers.”
“Really? Who was he?”
“His name was….daisuke I guess. He used to wear a similar black sort of uniform like kyojuro.”
After finishing their meal, tanjiro payed for everyone and thanked the old man for all that information. They went to a nearby inn and spent the night.
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Tanjiro wrote some letters updating each one of their current status. And he sent a crow to kiriya requesting him to take a look if there's any former slayer named Daisuke and used to frequent his missions with rengoku.
The next day around afternoon, tennoji returned from ubuyashiki's. He said there was indeed a slayer named Daisuke. He had suffered severe injuries from the war and now lives in his village.
As directed by tennoji, tanjiro's crow, they went to the south east from their current position. After two days and one night of sleeping in the jungle without the fear of demons, a village appeared. It wasn't that populated. After asking a few kids, they showed the path which led to Daisuke’s hut.
“Umm excuse me? Daisuke san?”
“Yes, wh— ta…tanjiro….aren't you tanjiro?” the guy said, he was blind from one eye similar to tanjiro, with a missing arm and a limp leg. Tanjiro felt sorry for him.
“Yes, they are inosuke and zenitsu. Sorry for being a bother….”
“Oh no please come inside. I will get tea for you…” he said excited.
“Oh, you don't have to. It's fine. Actually we wanted to ask something….”
“Yeah? Please come in. I will surely help you as much as possible.”
They entered the hut and sat on the tatami mats. Even after pleading not to bring any snacks, Daisuke brought some rice crackers for them.
“Please have them.”
“You didn't have to.”
“Oh it's nothing. Now what did you wanted to ask about?”
“It's about y/n.” Tanjiro said as the rest simply focused on rice crackers. A hint of familiarity glistened in Daisuke's eyes. “Y/n? You mean the one rengoku san was madly in love with?”
Madly in love with? Tanjiro felt a pinch in his heart. Rengoku san must have adored you. The sealed letter had tear stains. Did rengoku cried while writing that?
“Ah…yeah…I need to deliver this letter to y/n but I don't know where she lives. Did rengoku san ever mentioned where she lived?”
“A letter? Why sent a letter when he was so adamant about that?”
“Adamant?”
“Yeah…he said that the pages limited his words to her. He was so desperate wanting to see her that he spent like 2 weeks searching for her without taking rest after his missions.”
“Seriously? So how are you supposed to recover from those injuries?” Daisuke said to his senior with an exasperated expression.
“It will heal when I get to see her face.” Said rengoku, bandaging the cut from a demon's blood arts whom he just killed.
“You're gonna exhaust yourself from build up fatigue.” The sun rays kissed the soil painted in crimson from the shedded blood.
“I will be fine. You go and take rest.”
“I can't believe you're going to find the creepy girl sending you creepy letters claiming herself as your wife.” Daisuke let you a sigh at rengoku's stubborness.
“In that case I gotta meet my wife.” Rengoku's laughter echoed among the vast field.
It still echoed in Daisuke's memories.
“So rengoku wasn't married…?”
“Naah. Honestly I think, after rengoku san’s mother died, he had faced severe neglect from his father. He was the oldest son of the family, so he had to be strong for his sibling. But sometimes we forget, even the strong needs someone to back for them. Even they need some kind words to let go all their tiredness and have a tight sleep. Even they need someone who assured them that they have a bright future…”
That's right. Tanjiro had seen how shinjuro, rengoku san's father, disrespected his sacrifice. He was so lost and depressed in his wife's loss that he forgot about the ones who need the most care— his kids.
Daisuke continued, “when the letter came from y/n, rengoku san must have read comforting words for the first time since that. He used to reread those letters a thousand times when he was free. Sometimes I wondered if he ever got bored doing that…but I knew he didn't. A starved man will eat anything. And I knew he was emotionally starving.”
Zenitsu and inosuke stopped eating rice crackers. Rengoku's death solely hurted them as much as it did to tanjiro, but they never thought it was that deep. That it was something beyond his life as a demon slayer.
Zenitsu could relate. After all he was an orphan. And rengoku was too, being in a situation similar to him, where his only parent was emotionally unavailable for him. He felt sorry for him.
No one dared to say anything. The silence was piercing their hearts like splinters of iron.
“Fun fact was that he did find her,” Daisuke chorted a bit before continuing, “and he literally begged her to marry him…”
Rengoku searched from cabin to cabin in the steam train. In the last letter you mentioned you were going to aomori to visit your relatives by train.
After a bit of negotiation he learned that there was only one train which was going to stop at aomori. This is how he ended up buying tickets at the last moment getting in the train, to find you.
He hasn't seen you before. He wondered how you would look. Even more beautiful and kind than your letters. Even more beautiful than the slight hooks of the curved kanjis you had written his name. Even more beautiful than the blazing sun.
He had checked almost the entire train. The content smile on his face has now thinned into pursed lips. He was nervous. What if he fails to find you? What if he never gets to find you? What if he never gets to see your face?
What if he didn't recognise you?
He flashed all the passengers in his head before lowering his head. None of them carried the same demeanor your letters did. He couldn't imagine any one of them being you.
He entered the last cabin. It was empty. However this cabin seemed a bit different. It had a narrow passage on the right with doors while the opposite side had small rooms. It seemed private. One previously booked by someone.
Rengoku turned back to return to his cabin when the door beside him shot open.
Inside was a girl, who seemed to have frozen for a while.
“Y/n?”
The girl’s eyes widened at the name which left rengoku's lips. She shut the door close, but it didn't closed, something was blocking it. The girl looked down, realizing rengoku had slipped his feet in to prevent her from doing that.
He barged the door open. “Y/n right?”
The girl remained silent for some time.
“I apologize to you with all my might rengoku san. Please forgive my intrusiveness.” you said, lowering your head, nervous at the sudden appearance of him.
“God you're even more beautiful than I thought…” you shoot your head up only to see him looking with such dreamy eyes at you as if you're the only thing he's ever wanted to look at. And it made your stomach churn. Guilt rushed in each of your veins.
“Rengoku san, i shouldn't have wrote those letters to you.” You say. Your friend had warned you before. You didn't listen.
“Why?” He took a step closer.
You gulped before answering,“i wrote nonsense, pretending to be your wife I'm very sorry yo—”
“Then don't pretend anymore.”
“Huh?”
“Be my wife.” Rengoku suggested. His face now inches away from yours.
“And then she ran away?” Said daisuke, barely containing his laugh.
“Yeah…did I do something wrong?” Rengoku said with visible confusion plastered on his face. It was rare to see any expression other than his smiling face.
“Of course she would run away.”
“and why so?”
“Rengoku san, a girl thinks about her future first after marriage. She knows nothing about you.”
“But she wrote me lett—”
“Which you didn't answered….since you thought you couldn't fit your words in papers.” Rengoku couldn't say anything in his defense. It was true rengoku never replied to any of your letters. When he received the first one he thought someone was pranking him. But then the letters came continuously, one each month. He slowly fell in love with those. He fell in love with your letters. And somehow, he fell in love with you.
“Then what do I do?”
“Be honest, tell her about your salary and your job, tel her you can take care of her needs.”
“Yeah? Kk I'm going then…”
Rengoku stood at the aomori station waiting for you to get on the train for your return. Upon spotting you, he called out for you. The train had a delay and he had a good 1 hour to make things clear.
“Eh? R-rengoku san!”
“I work in demon slayer corps. And currently I'm in the highest rank which is kinoe. I get a decent salary of 42,500 yen. I live with my younger brother and father. My mother died a few years ago from illness. I spend my day training, slaying demons and rereading your letters,” guilt rushed through your veins again. “I promise, I will fulfill all your needs and treat you like my queen.”
“rengoku san...”
“sorry i didn't replied to any of those, I just couldn't express myself much in writing. If possible I would like to crawl into a hole. However you don't need to worry. I will make sure that I keep you happy.”
You frowned at his words, unable to explain him. How could you do that to him?
“Y/n san, let's make the words on the letters true. Let's be husband and wife. I know that I work in an organization that isn't approved by governm—”
“Rengoku san, shall we walk while talking? We are blocking the road.” you change the topic, not wanting to talk about it.
“Sure.”
Rengoku continued telling you everything…everything about him. From his childhood till his mother's death. From his father's neglect, to his way up to kinoe, from his sword to the number of demons he slayed. You didn't believe in demons before, but now that rengoku tells you about this, demon folks is something you want to believe. You wanted to believe in everything he said. Even if he's telling the dumbest thing, far from reality, you wanted to believe it.
“Y/n san! Look here!” You turn back to rengoku.
Click.
“And did she said yes?”
“Maybe. He didn't mention her answer. He was so happy that finally he met her.”
“You must have seen her then…can you tell us how she looked?”
“I think I might have a photo of her. Rengoku san, asked to recieve a photo delivery, since he had a mission from the previous oyakata sama.” Daisuke got up limping to the one of the backrooms of his hut. He returned a few minutes later, handling a black and white photo to tanjiro.
Inosuke and zenitsu peeped from the sides to take a look at the long awaited moment, when they finally get to see y/n.
The photo was black and white, but tanjiro felt it was still colorful to rengoku san. In the photo there was a girl, young, with long beautiful hair, in a loose braid. She wore a flower hair ornament, which must have shone in gold back then. She was just how the udon owner described her, big doe eyes, pretty mouth, she looked educated. She was dressed in a floral patterned kimono. Zenitsu wondered what sort of colour the kimono would have been. He wondered if he could get a similar one for nezuko as a souvenir.
The girl was beautiful. Inosuke thought, she had similar smile to shinobu, he wondered if his mom’s smile was like that.
The girl's reflection reflected in several mirrors behind her, and one of the mirror had caught the reflection of the one clicking the photo— kyojuro rengoku.
“The last I heard from rengoku san, he said she wanted to meet him before taking the mugen train mission. He seemed happy, maybe she agreed eventually to marry him….if only he didn't…” Daisuke didn't finished the sentence, considering his surroundings.
They sit in deafening silence for a bit.
A bit later tanjiro thanked Daisuke for the rice crackers and his help. He asked if it were okay to take the photo with him. Daisuke had no problem with that. After bidding farewell they continued their journey, unsure what to do next.
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After two days of staying at an inn, cluelessly with no idea how to find y/n, inosuke suggests to go to the station from where they got on mugen train.
“If we go to that lord's land and ask the people over there and show this painting of this long haired girl, then some might recognize her.” He had said.
“First of all that's a train station, second it's a photo. How can you still be the same stupid even after 3 years?” zenitsu cringed hard.
“wha—”
“Inosuke’s right zenitsu, we should go there and ask the people over there.” tanjiro said halting the cat and mouse fight which was about to start between the two.
Daisuke had said rengoku was about to meet her before the mission, which means before getting on the mugen train. Even if it is difficult, some locals must have seen even one glance of her.
The next morning, as per inosuke's idea, three of them left for the station.
“Umm excuse me…” said tanjiro, forwarding the photo in front of the local he stopped on his way, “can you tell me if you've seen this girl?”
The man gave a disgusted look at tanjiro. “no I haven't.”
“Ehh? Are you sure you haven—”
“I don't have time for bullshit.” He went off ignoring tanjiro. Strange. People here are less friendly, some even get irritated if stopped on their way.
It's almost lunch time, zenitsu and inosuke had tried to stop the locals as tanjiro asked them about you. It was clear that this ain't ending soon. Especially when they've got nothing good in hand.
“Let's go buy something to eat.”
“YEAH! I'M HECK HUNGRY!!”
“I saw a kid wearing glasses, selling bentos…let's buy some then…she went in that direction.”
Upon seeing the kid, tanjiro asked her to give them three boxes of bentos. It seemed similar to the ones they had three years ago. The girl was about to leave after receiving her payment, but tanjiro's instinct told him to stop her.
“Wait!” The girl turned back to him as zenitsu and inosuke watched him, confused. Tanjiro put his hand inside the sleeves of yukata, taking out the only photo they had of you.
“Have you ever seen this girl around here?”
The girl squinted her eyes behind the round glass frames,“y/n san! Isn't she y/n san…”
Zenitsu’s eyes popped out, he wondered if tanjiro's a mind reader or something, how can he be so quick?
“Yes! You know her? Can you tell us where she lives?” Tanjiro asked desperately.
“She never mentioned that to us…” the girl said frowning her eyebrows.
“Oh…how did you know her then?”
“Well, a demon slayer who saved us three years ago, requested…”
You waited for kyojuro to come. The sun shone brightly above you. The empty roadway started getting crowdy. You've had enough.
“Y/n san. You wanted to see me?” kyojuro had become a hashira now, and amongst his tight schedule he barely had time for you. It's not like you were disappointed, but still…you and kyojuro often talked through phone booths, after you've suggested that casually one day while strolling with him. Last week when he called you, after what felt like years, you said you wanted to meet him soon. ‘fine meet me at the near hinakawa station, I will be waiting.’ he'd said.
Though it was you, waiting for him to come. You've felt distant from him. And you didn't like it.
“I ran away.” You announced looking in his honey drizzled eyes. Though you aren't sure if it were your overthinking but those eyes seemed a bit dull today.
Kyojuro didn't say anything, maybe confused how to interpret your words.
“my family's against us. And I'm against them. I left the old relations to form a new one. With whom I love. Let's get married.” You said taking his hand in yours.
Kyojuro said nothing but wrapped you in his arms. You hugged him tighter, never wanting to let go. “I'm not alone anymore.” He said before nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck.
Yes. You've always wanted to hear these words from his lips. You've wanted to let him know that he's not alone even when he thinks he is. You wanted him to know that there's someone who will always support him even if he's father thinks he has no talent. This was the reason you wrote him letters in first place. This was the reason you let yourself get tangled in a world far different from yours— in the world of kyojuro rengoku.
He left soon saying he will be back after completing a mission. He said he will send someone to you and asked you to wait for him till then. And you agreed gladly. About half an hour later a girl wearing round steel rimmed glasses along with her grandmother appeared.
“Y/n?” You nodded your head at them. “Rengoku sama asked us to keep you safe till he gets back. If you don't mind then you can come home with us.”
You got to know from the grandmother, how the rengokus had saved their lives two times. You've never seen kyojuro fight, but you knew he was hella strong. Still your heart sinks into your stomach whenever he mentions a mission. You've never encountered demons, once you didn't even believed in them, and now here you are nodding at each of those demon tales of the grandmother.
It didn't mattered anyway as long as he comes back safe. You have to wait for a while for him to comeback….after all you weren't done….you still had an important thing to say.
“Then?”
“Then days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, the slayer never made its return. She left eventually, thanking us. We told her to wait for a while more…but she was too stubborn.” said the girl, fixing her specks again.
Tanjiro couldn't believe what he heard. Rengoku had so many things going on in his life. He had more priorities than him and his friends. Someone who was more important. Someone who left her entire family for him.
Yet.
And yet.
He chose to save them sacrificing himself.
He wondered if the you hate him now.
Zenitsu and inosuke were too stunned to speak. All of them were on the verge of crying. To think…that he couldn't return because of them. To think that they played a role in ruining you happiness. That he died saving them.
“She said she was going to asakusa at her friend’s house, named atsuko.”
Tanjiro bowed at the girl, he couldn't manage thanking her, since he knew if he draws one more breath trying to talk, he would break down right there.
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The three of them took a train to asakusa after eating those bentos. They looked similar because rengoku had bought the same boxes from that bento girl 3 years ago.
Inosuke was oddly quiet inside the train. The other two also barely chatted before reaching their destination.
Tanjiro had visited asakusa before and he didn't liked that experience very much. Especially the narrow lanes. This time the city looked more developed than before. And it was more crowdy too. They made their way as the girl has previously informed, that atsuko works as a teacher in a big school for aristocrats.
Coincidentally, tanjiro found the same vendor from his last visit. Back then nezuko wasn't able to savor his ramens since she was a demon. He wished he brought her along. They ordered a steaming bowl of ramen, as the vendor was delighted seeing tanjiro again.
“Where that bamboo girl you carried along with you?”
“She's at home right now.”
“Don't give my wife stupid Nicknames.” ,shouted the blonde at the vendor. Tanjiro apologized in his stead as he kept fuming. “So why are you three here all of a sudden? It's been long ain't it?”
“Yeah we're looking for a girl named y/n. She has a friend who teaches in a big school named atsuko.”
“Y/n never heard that sort of peculiar name…”
“are there any big schools in this area, where aristocrats study?”
“Umm…there are a lot of big schools, you could go and ask at the library. There's only one library here and all the school students or teachers borrow books from there. They must know something about that.”
“Oh really! Thankyou very much.”
Without any further do, the three of them went to the public library after eating.
“Woah this is so big.” Tanjiro said.
“It has so many books shall I borrow some for nezuko chan” zenitsu got lost in his dream world. Inosuke was quite whenever he gets in a new environment with a lots of people, so tanjiro didn't bother checking at him.
However, inosuke tugged on tanjiro's yukata pointing at something with his boar mask tugged on his head. Tanjiro could see his eyes popping out.
“What happened tanji—” zenitsu choked on his spit. Tanjiro’s jaw dropped, his mouth open wide. Inosuke was pointing at a picture hung on the wall. Tanjiro took out the photo hurriedly from his sleeves.
There's no mistake. This was indeed the same girl. Underneath the painting was written ‘princess akiko’ in bold letters carved carefully on metal.
“But isn't her name y/n?” Said zenitsu. What's going on? Before tanjiro could say anything, a woman in her twenties bumped into them while rushing.
The photo slipped out from tanjiro’s fingers.
“I'm so sorr—” the women's words halted as she looked at the photo lying on the ground in front of her. She picked it up before tanjiro could.
“Where did you get this picture from?” She asked as if it were a taboo to have this.
“Ahh you know y/n?”
“Y/n?”
“She looks similar to the girl in that painting” the boy with the boar mask declared.
“For the hundredth time inosuke it's a photo.” said zenitsu.
“She doesn't looks like her. She is her. She is princess akiko. The youngest daughter of the imperial family.”
What?
Three of them couldn't believe their ears. “But her name is y/n…” whispered tanjiro in a low voice.
“Just who are you?” She looked at the picture carefully, as if hiding it from the world, “isn't this rengoku?”
“You know rengoku san?”
“That's the man who saved us from a fire incident in an old town. And then became the main reason of the storms in akiko’s life.”
Tanjiro's eyes widened at the mention of the fire incident “Are you atsuko?”
The women nodded, surprised they know her name. Tanjiro, then explained the whole matter.
“I see.”
“This isn't right akiko…you shouldn't have continued writing letters to him in first place.” Atsuko said trying to persuade her not to run away.
“I can't. I can't live here. They will never accept him. And I can't live without him.”
“Akiko, try to understand…rengoku loves y/n.”
“And i am y/n!” The sound of the rain pouring down increased.
“You are princess akiko. Y/n is just a fake name, you created to hide your real identity when decided to write him letters. I supported you then since i thought it was a one time thing.” Atsuko shook the girl's shoulders trying to bring her to the path she considered right.
“But I don't wanna be akiko. I wanna be y/n…y/n rengoku.” Tears fell from the eyes in front of her as sobs escaped her lips.
“You're playing with rengoku’s feelings. Even if you run away, how do you intend to tell him the truth? You can't pretend to be y/n your entire life akiko.”
The girl didn't answered atsuko. That day slowly came to an end along with the rain. And Akiko did run away to rengoku, away from her pointless life, being a puppet in her family's hands.
“She returned a month after she ran away. When I asked him about rengoku she said nothing. Soon her brother came and took her away.” Whispered atsuko in a voice so doleful, that it was clear, it hurted.
“Did rengoku san knew she was a princess?” Zenitsu asked.
“He probably didn't. Akiko's family arranged several politicians later to set her up but she caused such a ruckus that her family gave up at last.”
“Do you know where she is now…i need to deliver this letter to her.” Each word tasted like bile to him. He couldn't even imagine how miserable it had been. You literally rejected a crystal palace only to live a normal life with him. Which didn't even come true. How feverishly would it have hurt? How apathetic fate was…
“She lives in osaka, running an orphanage. You would find her there. Shall I get someone two drive you three over there?”
“That will be very thoughtful of you” said tanjiro.
Atsuko arranged a driver, who would drive them to the orphanage, they expect to find you in. The car ride was even more silent than the train one. Inosuke, even, didn't make any fuss seeing a car for the first time.
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‘So this is where princess akiko lives.’ thought tanjiro. The building was similar to butterfly mansion, nothing that luxurious but quite spacious. The driver left soon after dropping them.
They crossed several corridors of children buzzing like bees. Laughter echoed among the hallways. How wonderful of a place for someone who lost their parents. Similar to them. They wondered if they would have grown up in this orphanage if they were born here.
Finally they reached to what seemed like an office. Similar to one shinobu used when researching herbs, the one which kanao uses now. They entered with a knock.
“Y/n san?”
Your head perked up at the name, which once your beloved used to refer. That beloved who never came.
Your heart ached a bit expecting kyojuro. A melancholic smile forms on your face seeing three kids infront of you. Of Course it wasn't him.
“yes?” you said gently, trying not to give in to your emotions.
But tanjiro could smell it. He smelled the intense grief bubbling within you. He could imagine how long you've bottled up your emotions.
Without saying much, he took the letter out of his sleeve placing it on your desk.
“It's been waiting for 3 years.”
“Huh?”
“Rengoku san wanted me to deliver this to you. Sorry this took so long.” your hands froze at his name. Your chest heaved without even you realizing as you grab the letter.
A single drop of tear fell on the spot which had been previously stained with tears. Tears of kyojuro rengoku.
Your fingers shaked tracing your name on the letter. The name which he used to call. Y/n not Akiko.
You teared the seal, taking out a paper. It was filled with words. Words, he never thought he could express on paper.
Dear y/n,
If you're reading this, then I'm sorry. I might have broken my promise of protecting you forever because by the time you read it— I will be dead.
Y/n i wanted to tell you, that I've loved you. I have loved you from the very beginning. Before even I saw you. You were the one who protected the flame in my heart. While others told me to set it ablaze, you made me learn how to keep the flame burning.
You were as beautiful to me as the rising sun. So bright, so clear. You were the epitome of my life. I wanted to live a peaceful life with you, in which my father let's go of his depression. In which your family accepts us. In which we don't have to hide from others. I wanted you to have my surname.
Your words were like the first rain of summer to me. You saved me from quenching my thirst by your words. I have been starved…. starved for so long that I forgot what being hungry for love feels like. Until you came into my life. you healed my heart, handled it as if it's porcelain.
I thought papers were something I would never choose to express myself with. But look at me now. Haha. I don't know why I'm writing it now, but I just feel like, the time’s soon going to be over. And I feel like I will be gone without seeing your face.
Please don't hate me for that.
If I get to spend my life with you I will probably burn this off, but if this letter somehow unfortunately finds you…I want you to know, I gave my best. I gave my very best to save the ones surrounding me. That I fullfilled my duty till the end. So don't feel sad.
I still can't believe you chose to love me. If possible I would like to meet you in another birth, in another universe without demons, where I will be yours, completely yours. You're the best thing that happened to me, y/n. You're just perfect.
But I must say….you’re dumb for choosing a man who bets his life for others, leaving the silver spoon you had in your mouth.
Sadly, our time was limited in this birth. Good bye princess akiko.
~ your kyojuro
The letter fell from your hands. Your lips quivering as you barely contained your tears, which stained the letter.
You just managed a smile at the kids who brought you this letter. He was no more. And you couldn't believe that. He knew you were Akiko not y/n. The truth you weren't able to tell him.
“I'm sorry for making this long. Rengoku san died saving us from a demon, 3 years ago” said tanjiro, tears staining his cheeks. So do the others, barely containing their emotions.
“oh! But i-im glad you all are safe. H-he fulfilled his duties right?”
“Does it hurts?” Tanjiro asked.
“A lot.” And if he wasn't seeing things, he saw rengoku for one second with a silly smile on his face, maybe wondering how to comfort you.
The second he blinked his eyes he was gone. What remained was his letter. Tanjiro handed the photo to you before leaving. He wondered if in another birth he gets to see the both of you reconcile.
He took a deep breath wanting to return to kanao. Maybe he would just ask her to marry him this year. He doesn't want to waste anymore time away from her.
“Where were you?” Asked zenitsu to inosuke, who went missing for a while. They are currently waiting for a train to go back home.
“To buy this.” Inosuke showed a butterfly hair pin decorated with blue crystals. It was beautiful.
“Woah. Who did you buy it for?”
“Aoi.” Tanjiro chuckled at his bluntness, while zenitsu smirked. It's funny how inosuke still gets both of their names incorrect but he never made a mistake in saying aoi’s name correctly. Who knows they might have two weddings…
Now that tanjiro had finally payed off the debt, he wished you happiness as he looked forward to a happier future. He will remember you, not as princess akiko, but as y/n.
“Let's go! I can't wait to see nezuko!!”
“Zenitsu watch out your way!!”
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© strawberrymochin 24 | plagiarism won't be tolerated | comments are reblogs are appreciated | banners are by me |
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gremlingottoosilly · 10 months
Text
The only thing you want to do is... [Price x fem!Reader]
Price broke his hand on the last mission. Fortunately for him, his caretaker is just as adorable as she is eager to help him in every way.
CW and tags: Legal age gap, power imbalance, daddy kink, pervert!Price, obsessive!Price, coercion into sex, handjob (m!receiving)
Word count: 3246
This work on AO3
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You’re such a sunshine, it hurts. 
John Price never considered himself to be a good man. He did what he had to do to protect his country, to ensure that big bad terrorists are kept at bay, and foreign militaries are ending up where they belong – somewhere in the ditch, with reports stating KIA an anonymous bullet drugged out of their skulls. 
His job was just that – a job, something that had to be done because he knew that someone else, someone worse, would gladly take his place in case of retirement. The captain can be considered a fucking angel compared to some people he is working with – no one would ever dare call him evil when people like Graves still exist out there, hunting for innocents. 
But you’re so fucking sweet to him, he simply can’t handle it. 
When his arm got injured, and he was forced to get on leave for at least a month – he tried to argue for something less, but Lasswell silently pointed out that he hadn’t had a break in the past five years, and she would kick him out of his own Task Force if he’d continue to refuse – he got assigned a caretaker by Kate recommendation. 
John was fully expecting some old lady, probably a retired officer or field medic. Maybe some burly man with too much time on his hands and the ability to give really nice massages under flights of bullets. Perhaps, worst case scenario, he would be assigned an actual; nurse that wouldn’t buy any of his shit – that amount of whiskey he drinks is prescribed by his therapist, smoking cigars in the apartment is a nice form of relaxation, and he actually doesn’t need help and can go in service back again less than in two weeks. 
But, the Captain got wee ol’ you, all nice and warm, and adorable, and too fucking young to have anything to do with his apartment. 
You’re nice, warm, fresh out of college, where you got some recommendations about rehabilitating veterans back into normal lives. Probably was writing a Thesis about something as dumb as “Healing PTSD through flower crowns and little touches”. You chirp your way into his heart and refuse to go out – just like Kate promised to him, you really didn’t allow him to do anything on his own. 
God, it was infuriating – how much he wanted to simply grab your shoulders and kiss you. Or kick you out and find someone else to take care of him, someone boring, someone of appropriate age. Without dumb, bright eyes and cute smiles, without enthusiasm, that can only be seen in unpaid interns and college graduates who still believe that the world is fair and nice. 
You cook his dinners and clean up his apartment – as small as it is, never having a family or any other reason to make it even slightly bigger – and you do this with such a wide smile on your face it actually makes Price question basically everything he knows about young ladies doing charity work. You must be paid triple because you fold his underwear in neat little cubes and refuse to accept his help. Always chirped something about his hand like he can’t kill a man with his teeth only. 
— I can fold my own pants, love. 
He presses his body against the doorframe of the small bathroom – looks at your ass so shamelessly bent over the washing machine. You’re folding his dried clothes, and he can only pray that you aren’t slowly resenting him for being such a disgusting old man. He knew he looked good for his age, 37 years in this world molded him into something that many young women would consider hot – even though his beard is unkept and his hair grew a bit longer since he couldn’t be arsed to do anything about it, and his dominant hand is broken. 
— We don’t want to sprain your hand even more, right? — Everythin’ is alright with my bloody hand…
— Lady Lasswell said I shouldn’t listen to you like this, sir. Sorry. 
— Little minx. 
— Me or Lady Lasswell? 
John looks at you, so eager and cheerful, and he just wants to…he can’t, of course, he stops himself before he even forms the thought because it’s dirty and you don’t deserve this, and your shy smile as you laugh softly and push the last of the laundry in the neat pile on the washing machine. 
You look too eager to please, and he has an idea – the one he will never act upon. Maybe will entertain himself later, stroking himself in some abandoned base deep in the snowy tundra, trying to remember your warmth as if a sinner like him can even comprehend your light. 
God, you got him so bad, he starts thinking about good ol’ Jesus again. You really are a side to behold, aren’t ya. 
He looks at you again – you’re so easy to please. You cook for him, the smell of home cooking that he almost forgot, all the ingredients you invited yourself to buy when he left his card for you. You didn’t think it was weird, not a single mischievous bone in your body – if anything, he was casually prompting you to go and buy yourself something nice, something as compensation for all the trouble you endured for him. 
Instead, you went out of your way to cook for him, to make him tea like he wanted it – without sugar, but with a small amount of milk poured into a cup that is probably the most expensive thing in this whole place except for his weapons. 
The problem is – John Price doesn’t really like it when people are taking care of him. Not because he is shy or insecure, god forbid, but because he knows that if a pretty young thing like you is going to show him kindness, he will take a fucking mile and make you run from him as fast as you can. He has desires, he has needs, something that pretty good girls like you should know nothing about. 
You’re so eager to please that you’ll probably jerk him off if he were to whine about his arm being broken and his inability to get himself off because of it. Which, in turn, gives him an…idea. 
Price was never a good person – he isn’t the worst guy either. He sees your reactions, that adorable heat of your face when he brushes his knuckles over your cheek in an affectionate manner. How you are biting your lips every time you have to fold his underwear, when you cook for him, and he presses his body against yours, rocking his hips just gently enough to not make his arousal obvious. John knows you like him in more ways than just one – he doubts that such a lovegirl like you would ever agree to take care of a grumpy military man like him. 
He wonders where your father is – probably out of the picture if his precious daughter is almost crying from a desire to please a guy like him. He wonders if you have a boyfriend or if you’re seeing someone else – if you’re a virgin or you already had a series of disappointing sessions with blokes that have no idea how to behave with an angel like you. 
Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be taking care of a SAS captain – did your superiors forget to tell you just how girl-hungry men like him are? That he didn’t even bother to find a wife, and the loneliness of a single life will make him fucking explode if a girl as pretty as you were in the vicinity of that perverted old dog. You must be stupid – or so insanely naive, it’s not even funny. 
He licks his lips, staring at you again. He is certainly isn’t a good guy – not the worst either, but it’s up for debate. He wants to hold you close and say all of those pretty good things he knows you want to hear. He also wants to push you as close to him as possible and just fuck that pretty girl until you’re begging for him to make you his wife. He’d always laugh at the thought of other military commanders and higher rank soldiers having sugar babies – especially the mercs and their fucking inability to keep a girl who isn’t tied to their paychecks. But now…he might just pay for your adorable pout and eagerness. 
Might make a call to that one masked arsehole and ask how the hell he keeps his questionably young wife around without breaking her legs. Visibly, at least. 
— Sir? Planet calls for Captain Price. 
You giggle when you are waving your hand around him. Shit – looks like he zoned out for a hot minute, leaving you free to stare at his face, the fantom red spreading across his skin as if he is actually embarrassed to be caught like this. He isn’t, of course, he is stronger than some girl trying to get a rise out of him. He thinks he is stronger, at least. 
You wave your hand in front of his face again, and the insects are kicking in – captain grabs your hand, not even caring that his supposed helplessness stems from the fact his dominant hand is still broken. He has no problems keeping you in place with just his left hand – and you almost look scared when you understand that you literally can’t move. 
Your innocent smile turns into a pathetic whimper when he squeezes you even more. Bruises, no doubt, are starting to form already – well, it should be your fault. Good girls are usually smarter than teasing an old dog like him, even if you’re trying to play innocence. He knows what you are. 
His future special girl that is. A wife, if he plays his cards right…and the captain was always good at poker. 
— Shite, love. Sorry. 
His smile mirrors yours – an innocent display like he didn’t almost break your wrist in his hold. He is still squeezing your hand, but not he slowly presses his lips against your knuckles – thin, dry lips gently caressing your skin in a gesture that you should never accept from a guy who kills people as a job. Who saves people, too – but a good guy with a gun is barely an upgrade from a bad one. 
He kisses your fingers and finds heaven in the feeling of your soft skin against his lips. You are certainly embarrassed, and this is exactly what he wants – an old pervert trying to get in the pants of a cute girl who just wants to take care of him without any strings attached. He just has to make this whale thing complicated, isn’t he? 
— It’s okay, sir. Just thought I lost you for a second. 
— Not a chance. 
Your smile looks a tad bit mischievous – that is, or he is simply hallucinating from painkillers he is forced to drink every morning because you refuse to let him feel pain even though he is used to it. You are acting like he is a soft doll made out of pink ribbons and soft plushes, not a seasoned soldier with his own thoughts and ideas about what he can do about your desire to please him. He might just use your eagerness – his cock has been pitching for too long without female attention, and he usually doesn’t indulge in shitty one-night stands in some sketchy pubs, but he can make an exception for now. For you. 
You smile awkwardly, still trying to get your hand out of his grasp. Little minx, teasing him like he can’t just push you on this exact washing machine and fuck you like a slut you are. Poor girl, you probably don’t even know what kind of thoughts he has in his head – even though your eyes tell him something your lips cannot articulate. 
John acts on his instincts, and they usually don’t deceive him. 
— If you want to help so badly, I can think of another way. 
— Is that so, sir? You’re going to get him in so much shit with Lasswell, he doesn’t even know how he is going to get out of it after fucking her best little protege. Would have to marry you – like it’s not his end goal, like he doesn’t want to make your care for him a tad bit more permanent. He has done so many good things for humanity, why can’t he be a bit selfish and get himself a little something to make this place feel more like home? 
He thinks of a pretty thing like you, heavy with his kids, cooking something nice and hearty in his house – not this crappy apartment, of course, he’d buy you something in the countryside, away from terrorists and public squares, with good schools and greenery all around. 
You lick your lips and tilt your head to the side. He is daydreaming again. 
— If you want to make me relax so badly, love, there is something I need help with…
Beating around the bush like this isn’t in his character – but he knows that you’re a good girl, maybe way too good and proper. He can’t just shove his dick in your hand, it would be too unpolite. 
He has to prepare you, it’s a slow sniper mission where he needs to approach you as gently and quietly as possible – he still holds your hand in his, a phantom of his lips tucked away on the softness of your skin. 
Then he places his hand on his growing erection – as awkwardly as he can operate with only using his left arm as a helper. 
Price might not be the master of espionage, but he also didn’t get his rank for not being able to do cover missions under pressuring circumstances and lie in the faces of people who trust him. Not be the best person, of course, but he gives you a choice. You have all the power now – even with his weapons safely stashed in his bedroom, he knows he won’t ever try to force you. He won’t have to. 
— Help your captain, eh? 
You’re embarrassed, shy, scared even – your hands are trembling, fingers tracing the outline of his cock with morbid curiosity he never thought he’d find this adorable. You don’t stop and don’t try to fight him – like a little animal, nervous and terrified somewhat, you’re slowly indulging yourself in something that you actually shouldn’t. 
He lets go of your hand and allows you to continue on your own – like a good girl, you only nod and slowly duck your palm in his boxers. He’d say that the way he is rock-solid just from looking at your ass and pouting on your face is weak, but he can afford to be a bit pathetic after so many weeks without the ability to jerk off. With your watchful gaze, he just couldn’t find it in his heart – or the only remaining working hand – to do something to help with his raging crush on this adorable social worker who comes to help him. 
John is many things – a war hero, war criminal, the captain, and the butcher of many who may deem his actions irredeemable. He made peace with not being the poster good guy and often dirtying his hands just to keep the world clean – and he knows that, in the end, he deserves a pretty young thing to jerk him off while he kisses your hairline and whispers sweet nothing with that beautiful accent of his. 
— This is not very… appropriate, sir.
— Bullocks, love. You’re helpin’, that’s why you’re here. 
 You’re nervous when your hand, squeezing his shaft firmly, goes up and down on his cock. You’re trying to find the rhythm in his quiet grunts and little moans, not having too much experience with pleasuring men who you like this much. It’s fear of disappointing him that makes you go wild, that approving gaze of his every time you press your soft fingers against the head of his cock and squeeze a little. 
He is throbbing in your palm, pre-cum leaking on the small of your fingers – naturally, you lick it as slowly as possible, not breaking the eye contact. 
Price moans. 
— Bloody hell, luv…so good for daddy. 
The name makes your ears burn, the desire growing in your stomach – you fight the urge to drop on your knees and take him fully in your mouth. This isn’t what he wants, you think, so you just continue to squeeze him more, making sure he is satisfied with every little movement your hand makes. You lick your lips and continue, feeble attempts at containing the rhythm with shaky fingers. 
— I just wanted to help you with your life, not…this. 
He chuckles, unharmed hand presses on the small of your back to fix you in place. You lick your lips, understanding that he is not going to let you go this easily – you don’t want to behave like this, of course, it’s against the terms of your contract and your agreement to help him without feelings attached, but he moans so deeply for you, hips are buckling to fuck the firmness of your hand like he is ready to use your moist, prepared pussy. 
God, what are you even thinking about? 
You don’t know if you should be doing this, but the captain is not letting you go – and you can’t even do anything against his wishes, can you? 
— We really shouldn’t be doing this. 
— Quiet. I’ll help you out after my hand is healed, eh? — This isn’t what I’m talking about, sir. 
— Now, let’s not use that here. I’m sir in the field, not here. 
He is manipulating you as hard as he can – he can feel the tension in your eyes and the way you’re squeezing his cock, and he wants nothing more but to simply push you harder, make you fall apart in his hold like a precious porcelain vase. You’re sensitive and shy, just perfect for a bastard like him – his only regret is that the dumb cast on his right hand won’t really allow him to relax to have sex with you properly. 
He will pay you back later – on your back, on your knees, on your tummy, moaning his name as he plunges his seed deep into you. It was about time he’d settle down with a pretty wife of his own – he can afford you, certainly. 
— I can’t call you daddy, it’s embarrassing…
Your shy words are what send him over the edge. John Price was never a good guy to begin with, but your little pleas are enough to make him cum – and it’s certainly one of the biggest sins he has ever committed. Cute girl like you shouldn’t be so embarrassed about jerking him off, but here you are. 
Your hands are covered in cum as he continues to release his seed, only sad because he wasn’t able to breed you properly – that’s the agenda for the time when he finally is freed from this dumb cast. Might just ask Lasswell for extended leave. 
— You’ll just have to get used to this, love. Not letting you go after this. 
You can only whimper when he kisses you – possessive and tender at the same time. A silent promise of making you his dumb little wife. 
2K notes · View notes
saerins · 2 years
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─── 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄
+ sae x f!reader | wc 5.3k
notes: i’m in love with this man, and wrote this on a whim :’) hope y’all like it !! feedback & reblogs are greatly appreciated !! <3
summary: you’ve known sae since you were both sixteen. he’s always dreamed of going overseas and facing the world, will he ever be ready to come home?
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𝐒𝐈𝐗𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍
sae can read almost everyone flawlessly, you included.
he’s not close to you, not at all. physically? yes, because you’re his seat partner. but in all other aspects? no, definitely not.
you’re scared of him, he can tell. whenever he moves, you get self-conscious, immediately pulling your own chair in, giving him way. then you check on him as he moves away, because you’re scared that somehow you’ve managed to offend him.
you never did. because to offend sae, you’d need to be someone who can even bother him in the first place.
sae doesn’t care about what you do though, he just happens to notice you. out of convenience, because he sees you every monday to friday and sits next to you for every class.
it’s the same routine thing every week—you sit next to each other, barely say a word all day and then before he knows it, it’s the end of school day.
it doesn’t even matter. you don’t matter.
nobody really does.
he peeks at you out of the corner of his eyes, your eyes peering down at your paper with the utmost concentration. he quickly looks away though, because the last thing he wants is to get caught and be labeled as a cheater on a history quiz. especially when he’s not cheating.
yeah, you really don’t matter.
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𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍
soccer, soccer, soccer.
that’s all sae can think of nowadays. just do whatever he can to improve his skills, everything else is up for debate.
you’re still his seatmate, still ever so distant. he gives you credit though, for greeting him every morning now even though you look terrified and nervous all the time.
“good morning.”
today is no exception. sae’s eyes flick up to you and then back down to his desk, and that’s all of the acknowledgement you get, as usual. it’s nothing personal, he just doesn’t want to get into small talk at all.
but he’ll give you points for trying, even if he doesn’t exactly know what’s going through your head right now. somehow, he can’t read you as well anymore.
that’s how you usually are now, the newer version of you. a little more upbeat, a little friendlier, less awkward but still as shy as he first pegged you to be.
well, now you’re just slightly more amusing. somehow, sae starts to find himself wondering how you’d react to different situations.
it’s almost the middle of the school year and you’d kept up with your usual greetings everyday. sae keeps up with his usual stoic demeanour on his part.
until today.
“good morning!” you’re extra chirpy today, he notices.
sae blinks at you once, twice, and you’re still smiling at him, and he’d like to know whether you’re still that same nervous mess inside, so he opens his mouth this time.
“morning, y/n.”
simple, easy, basic courtesy.
but somehow you’re looking at him as though he’s a fucking freak.
to be fair, that’s exactly what he expected. but it’s now been a whole minute and you’re still staring dumbly at him.
“what?”
you shake your head, laughing sheepishly as you take your seat beside him, “nothing, it’s just… you never bothered talking to me before.”
sae shrugs, because it’s not like he bothers now, per se. he’s just—what’s the word—bored? “i can shut up too if you prefer that.”
“no!”
you look so embarrassed by your quick outburst that sae almost snickers. that’s the most reaction you’ve nearly managed to get out of him yet.
“i mean,” you stutter, looking for the right words to say, and maybe sae is getting a little bit of an ego boost right now because he can tell you’re flustered. “you’re pretty terrifying most of the time so…”
he knows what you mean, but he acts like he doesn’t. “oh, so you like terrifying? okay, i can do that.”
the way your face instantly switches to a straight expression is fucking amusing, and for a split second his guard falls and you get to hear him snicker.
luckily, the bell rings right after and mr hayato is never late. sae never got to hear what you thought of that.
every single day after that passes by a little bit easier, your non-friendship inching a little closer together, sae might even consider you an acquaintance now.
he converses with you a lot more fluidly (as much as he allows himself to—he doesn’t like you being too comfortable, likes to keep you on your toes), and he finds himself teaching you things he notices you’re absolutely horrible at.
like logarithms, because no matter how much you try to wrap your head around it, you refuse to ask anyone for help. you’re a little stubborn, but sae can live with that, just has to speak to you in a way that doesn’t seem like you look like you need help.
“no, you’re forgetting that the log of e is always one, there, see?” sae sighs as he explains, because you’re quite muddle-headed. “it’ll be much easier once you get all the definitions in your head.”
“were you born a genius or something?” you ask innocently upon catching his test scores. a 94 out of 100, compared to your 63.
that day, neither of you notice the fact that other people are beginning to notice your growing friendship.
sae starts tutoring you whenever he can, because apparently you’re hopeless without his help. (he says this to your face. he’s always straight with you.) and then he finds himself noticing you in ways he never did before.
how you look absolutely angelic when the sun hits your face. he notices the way you puff out your cheeks when you’re thinking hard. even the perfume that wafts through the air. you smell good.
this is ridiculous.
“hun, do you want any—”
fuck. sae’s head whips around to see an older woman at your door, almost a carbon copy of you, eyes wide as her gaze falls onto him.
no, he’s not particularly nervous or feels like he should be, but something tells you if your mother is anything like you, she’d misunderstand. this is just a lot more trouble than it’s worth. you’re a lot more trouble than it’s worth. what’s he even getting out of tutoring you?
“oh hi there! and who might you be?”
he can see stars in her eyes, all hopeful and excited as she shifts her gaze between you and sae and back to you again.
“mom! he’s no one—” ouch, he’s tutoring you and you introduce him as no one? “a friend and he’s tutoring me for some math stuff so could you…?”
it’s like the gears are turning in your mother’s head when she eyes sae knowingly. god, he has to do some damage control. don’t want either of you expecting anything much out of him.
“i’m itoshi sae,” he introduces himself, shaking her hand. “i just make time to tutor some of my classmates to earn extra credit.”
not even close to true, but neither of you need to know that. he’d much rather spend his free time getting in some training or going to the gym but he decided maybe he could spend a few hours out of today to help your dumbass with numbers.
he’s an expert at sidestepping small talk and in no time at all, your mother’s out of the room. you still seem embarrassed, he can feel the heat emanating from your cheeks.
“concentrate,” sae sighs, and he wonders why he’s even doing this for you. he’d rather go home right now, he thinks, maybe kick the ball around with rin, or just lie down in bed because waking up at 4am to train every morning is taking its toll.
you mumble a hushed apology and rub the sleepiness from your eyes. the both of you had been at this for a couple of hours now, maybe looking at numbers too much is making you tired too.
sae acknowledges you’re a fast learner though, if you have a proper teacher. he’s not surprised that ms kina’s teachings are lost on you—she’s not that good at explaining concepts. sae is, though. he usually doesn’t bother sharing but hey, maybe now is just a glitch in the matrix, maybe now he’s just trying to do good samaritan things and help you out so you don’t fail the damn midterm test.
“okay then, see you,” he says, picking up his bag and slinging it around his shoulders, only to have you grab his wrist. “what?”
you look a little bashful once you realise what you did, and then you let go of him immediately. you look like you really want to say something, but you don’t, you just shake your head.
don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t do it.
sae’s putting his bag back down before he knows it, and he groans internally. “say it.”
“if-if you don’t mind, maybe we could schedule a tutoring session every week?” you’re so, so timid and so, so soft.
he blinks once, twice, realising what you actually mean to say. you don’t want the tutoring session, apart from logarithms you’re fine with pure numbers, but you want time. with him.
it boosts his ego a little, if he’s being honest.
“i’m too busy with my soccer trainings,” he tells you, nonchalant until he sees how quick your expression falls and then he has to hate himself for continuing, “i have some time on friday evenings though.”
like a puppy, you’re instantly chirpy again, saying how maybe he could tutor you after he’s done with whatever stuff, and how you’d get a head start and grab some seats at a cafe or something.
you’re both seventeen when your weekly tutoring sessions start. it’s beyond himself why he agreed. all he knows is that he doesn’t particularly like being the reason your expression goes sad.
first week in, you’re still too nervous, too jumpy.
the second week, you’re a little too full of nonsense, daring to laugh at him, or with him, depending.
by the fifth week, your bare arm is already brushing his and you’re not even flinching.
you’re both seventeen when sae realises that maybe he cares for you. in the way lovers do. in the way he gets you to walk on the safer side of the sidewalk. in the way he sends you home every friday. in the way he actually responds to your goodnight texts and wakes up waiting for your good morning.
in the way he listens when you tell him that your mother is actually sick, that you want to take care of her. that your dream is simple—to find your passion one day, and to be able to earn enough to let your mother live peacefully, to help her fight whatever she has to because you don’t want her to be alone.
in the way, for the first time in his life, he reaches out to you, putting his hand on top of yours as he lets you cry on his shoulder.
your birthday falls on a friday this year, and he tells you not to bring your books that day in class. you look at him with pure shock, but then quickly adjust yourself and bring up a grateful smile.
“yes, sir.”
that night he meets you up on the rooftop of your complex, in the middle of the carpark, and you’ve never looked any happier than you did when you saw him holding that petite round galaxy cake in his hands, the sparkler candles so pretty in the night.
“happy birthday.”
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𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍
the next school year starts and sae enters into it still close to you as ever. you haven’t met in just over a month, what with sae’s intense training camps and your family holiday. but the both of you still talk to each other daily, and he finds himself waiting for your response every night.
it’s like the both of you are in a relationship, but neither of you are saying anything about it. whatever this relationship-non-relationship is, sae thinks he likes it.
but it’s barely three months into the school year and sae has to break your heart.
“it’s the opportunity of a lifetime, i’m sure you understand right?” his coach rambles on, disgusting with how he’s talking with his mouth full and chips keep falling out of it.
sae nods, because he does. he’s almost sure he’ll go for it. it’s not everyday kids from japan get offered a spot to play for a european club.
“great! so let’s get your parents involved and get you to spain.”
“yeah, sure.”
it’s frustrating how he’s not more excited. it’s there, but it’s faint, because it’s lingering on the traces of his feelings for you. he’s never really thought this far, and maybe that was his fault. he’ll keep that in mind; he can’t risk this situation again. he can’t risk getting your hopes up and being the reason that they’ll never recover.
minimise damage, yeah, that’s what he has to do.
you go from talking endlessly in class to being quiet because sae is trying to concentrate. you go from meeting every friday outside of school to every other friday, to once every month, to none at all. you go from texting a good morning and a goodnight every day to barely getting responses from sae, barely ever even get your messages read.
then one day sae just doesn’t show up to school at all. and you finally hear that he’s been scouted for a club in spain, that he’s going to be away for god knows how long. and then you realise that maybe that’s why he’s been distant lately, because you refuse to believe that the sae who took so much time out of his busy schedule for you, the sae who made the effort to buy you a birthday cake and spend all night on the carpark just listening to you talk on and on about insignificant things because you were nervous, the sae who you fell in love with—you refuse to believe it wasn’t real.
that’s why you hold your hopes up and ride your bicycle to his house, which you’ve been to once before, just outside though, because you’d asked him where he lived and he finally obliged. it’s still beautiful as ever, neat garden lined with flowers and a soccer field in the back.
when you knock on the gate, you see a familiar face come out; it’s itoshi rin, his younger brother. you only know that because sae’s spoken about him a few times, and you saw a picture of the both of them together on his phone.
“oh, um, hi, who are you?” rin asks, cautiously, because evidently, he’s never seen you.
“uh, i’m one of sae’s… classmates,” you decide, and it stings that you realise you can’t even say that anymore. how did it all spiral from cloud nine? “is he home?”
rin blinks a few times. his lower lashes are slightly longer than sae’s, he’s carrying a soccer ball, and you just know he’s been training all day because he’s sweating from head to toe. sae has said rin wanted to be a striker just like him.
“oh, didn’t you hear? my big bro got scouted, he left for spain last night.”
it shouldn’t be this upsetting—he isn’t even your boyfriend. no matter how much you wanted him to be. he was just… someone you studied with, spent time with, made efforts for.
but something forms in the pit of your stomach when you hear that sae’s already gone, that he’s already halfway to spain without even saying goodbye, without giving you any warning.
you’d thought whatever friendship you had with him was worth more than a silent goodbye, than a one-sided decision.
“o-oh, okay, thanks!”
you bolt off before rin can say anything else, it’s better that no one can see you crying anyway.
that night once you’ve sort of calmed down, you open up sae’s message thread, which as of late is mostly a string of messages from you and sae only replying with oh or i see or i’m busy.
the last time he even bothered replying to you was last week when you asked if he wanted to watch a movie together and he said a simple no.
“you’re an ass, itoshi sae,” you cry to yourself as you bring up the keyboard on your phone, your tears falling onto the screen.
i hate you, itoshi sae.
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𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍
soccer is the same; thrilling, tiring, demanding.
it’s been a year since he left japan and he’s still surviving, still thriving, still being revered as a genius midfielder. sae knows he has what it takes to bring victory to a good enough team, that’s what he came here for anyway—to be the best in the world.
“good job out there, sae,” the captain claps him on the back, but sae’s mind isn’t there.
it’s been a year since he left japan and he still pulls up the last message you ever sent him.
i hate you, itoshi sae.
perhaps it’s good that you do. there’s no place for your dreams in spain, or anywhere else in the world except for japan. you need to move on from him. maybe you already did, from what he hears from his classmates who still check in on him from time to time.
the first time sae hears about how some other guy asked you out, he can’t say he doesn’t care. but he’s relinquished his right to be jealous, so he barely responds to the news.
but maybe he’s beginning to see where he fucked up, because he shouldn’t have gotten close to you in the first place, should’ve just left you alone.
instead now he’s left with this sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. is this how it feels like to really miss someone?
𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘
you’re now in college and you’re past whatever happened in high school. itoshi sae still lingers in the crevices of your mind, with his teal eyes and his pretty lashes and the way his hand felt when they were on top of yours.
some part of you thinks you’d never get over him, but you have to make peace with that. just because he never bothered to give you closure doesn’t mean he should be allowed to ruin your life.
besides, you’re pretty sure he read what you last sent him. there’s really nothing else for you to do if he doesn’t even bother talking to you.
you’d been trying to properly move on anyway, and that’s exactly what you try to do later that night, after accepting ryusei shido’s invitation to dinner.
he’s like the opposite of sae, though. he’s all expressive and goofy and wild because he’s got you trespassing on private property just to borrow their garden and he likes to drive fast, really fast, because he loves the wind in his hair.
if you had met him first, you’d probably be in love with the rush he gives you, the adrenaline pumping through your veins. when he kissed you, if only you didn’t have itoshi sae in your head, then maybe you’d have kissed him back.
when you’re twenty, you find out that maybe you can’t move on without giving itoshi sae a piece of your mind.
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𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐎𝐍𝐄
sae’s career has been rapidly progressing, he’s part of the starting team and is hailed as one of the world’s up-and-coming top soccer stars.
the earlier game cemented it.
his team won, with the commentators naming him as the most valuable player, assisting in all the goals scored by his team.
when he’s pulled aside for an interview, he can’t help but wonder whether you’d be watching through the television, hanging on his every word. or maybe you’d already moved on with this shido guy he hears about.
fuck that shido guy.
and when an interviewer asks whether there’s anyone special in his life that motivates him, he finds himself wishing he could say your name.
“nothing of that sort.”
interviews pass by quickly, as they always do for him because he’s not much of an interview guy, with his stoic expressions and lacklustre responses. he’s on the way back to the locker room when he hears a familiar voice calling out to him.
“sae!”
he spins around to find his mother and father there, surprising him. they must’ve heard he was playing and booked a flight out. rin’s not here though.
“rin’s busy with some soccer matches of his own back at home,” his father explains, as if he read his mind. “he couldn’t make it, but he’s surely watching the match from home.”
how silly of sae to have wished that it was you calling out to him, for that split second. you’re still in his head, and that’s annoying.
“oh! sweetheart,” his mother coos after she’s done gushing over his game, “we ran into one of your friends earlier! what’s her name—ah wait there she is!”
sae furrows his brows, following his mother’s gaze and finds you there, hugging the walls, sheepishly waving your hand at him. he’s starting to doubt his vision, maybe you’re just his imagination, maybe his mother’s looking at someone else.
“hey, sae,” you greet him, mellow and polite.
he’s still standing there like he’s the one who’s starstruck, like you’re the famous one. are you really here?
“what are you doing here?”
not the best greeting, but that’s the most he can muster when he hasn’t seen or heard from you in over three years.
you smile, and he thinks he might melt, but he doesn’t because he’s just told—lied to—the world that there’s no one special to him.
“what’s wrong with supporting one of my friends?” you say, as though this is a neighbourhood soccer match and you didn’t have to fly halfway across the world for it.
“itoshi! get in here!” by the sound of his voice, it’s the captain talking. sae doesn’t even want to take his eyes off of you, but he has to.
“go,” you tell him, “i’m staying near the airport, if, uh, you wanted to do anything afterwards.”
does he?
sae swallows the lump in his throat and nods. “yeah, okay.”
that night, he figures out which hotel you’re staying at and pays you a visit—it annoys him how fast his heart is beating and how your sudden presence threatens to mess up his life.
he knocks on your door, and you open it, beaming at him when you see him. “i thought we were meeting at the restaurant,” you say as you let him in, closing the door behind him.
“i was just passing by, sent my parents to the airport and thought i would just drop by,” he answers, lying through his teeth. his parents are still somewhere in spain and he just wanted to see you sooner, that’s all.
“well, i’m still getting ready,” you tell him, straightening your dress and looking at yourself in the mirror.
how is it possible you keep getting prettier everyday? your hair’s a little longer now, and you look more mature, you’ve learned to do makeup, and your dress hugs your body in just the right places. he’s cursing himself for staring at you.
“i thought you’d be too busy to come out with me tonight, honestly,” you confess, putting on some lipstick.
sae has to look away, “and i thought you hated me.”
that has you stopping in your tracks; this conversation happened earlier than you expected, but you’d been gunning for this all the same.
“yeah, well you left japan without saying a word to me, like i was just anyone else.”
he understands why you’d think that. that was what he was going for anyway, and it reminds him what he should be doing instead of entertaining you right now. sae should be rejecting you, you and your efforts, should turn away from you like you’re another one of his fangirls.
“why?”
but the shakiness in your voice takes him off guard.
“why what?”
“why didn’t you say anything?”
“i didn’t have to,” sae responds, simply, like he doesn’t owe you a damn thing.
“was i imagining it?” you ask, finally turning around and looking him in his eyes.
no, no you weren’t.
“i don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“then why are you here, sae?” you burst out, and he stills in his position, feet glued to the floor. “you wouldn’t give a second thought to people you don’t care about, so what now?”
“i was just taking an old friend out to dinner, that’s all.”
he’s stubborn, so so stubborn. he’s hoping he’ll hold out.
“i don’t get you,” you mutter softly, to yourself or to him, he doesn’t even fucking know.
sae really shouldn’t, but he thinks about how he might never see you again and tries, “what do you want?”
“what are you talking about?”
“do you know what you want?” sae turns it around on you. “you flew halfway across the world to get here, for what? for me?”
he’s intimidating when he speaks a little louder than usual, and you shrink back just slightly.
“i-i wanted to talk to you,” you try your hardest to form an excuse but it’s not working.
“and what did you want out of that?”
you fall flat, and you feel like giving up. you know the answer, but you don’t want to admit it. you don’t want to tell him that you wanted him to want you too, you don’t want to admit that you’ve been thinking about him nearly all the time and what could’ve been.
“just forget it,” you relent, averting your gaze, but the next moment you feel an unfamiliar sensation on your lips, the taste of his on yours.
sae doesn’t know why he’s doing it, but his body moves on its own; something he got from playing that manages to bleed into his daily life, apparently.
you taste so much better than he expected, and you feel like you belong in his arms, like you’re made for him because there’s absolutely no one else in the whole fucking world who could ever bring itoshi sae to his knees.
he’s been in denial all this time, yes, and he’s tired of it. if you came all the way here, he’s not wasting it. he pulls away from you, absolutely dazed by the wanting look in your eyes.
you’re twenty one years old when you first hear itoshi sae telling you he loves you.
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𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐖𝐎
“someone’s chirpy,” your mother says from the couch, looking up from her ipad. “i sense… a date with sae.”
you roll your eyes, throwing one of the cushions at her. “mom, shut up,” you groan, still embarrassed whenever she calls you out for it.
sae’s still in spain most of the time, but the both of you make it work. you make a point to video call at least twice a week, and he responds to you like a normal boyfriend does. it’s back to that good morning, goodnight love you shared back in high school. he makes as much time as he can, and you appreciate him for it.
“i’m glad you’re happy, sweetie,” she tells you, and you smile gratefully.
you’re more than relieved now that she’s managed to fight the cancer off. it’s the only reason she pushed you to go see sae last year. you technically wouldn’t have done it without her.
a knock on your door signals that he’s here, and your mom gives you a knowing look before she excuses herself to her room.
when you open the front door, you feel a burst of excitement when you see sae there holding a bouquet of flowers.
“happy birthday, pretty.”
even when he’s busy, even when he’s swamped, he’ll never stop making you feel like you’re on top of the world.
both of you are twenty-two when sae decides that you’re his world.
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𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄
this is the year you find out long distance is actually really really hard.
sometimes sae loses the match, and sometimes he can’t separate friend from foe from you. he gets frustrated, and so you do too. he has less than kind words when he’s venting, and you happen to be on the receiving end.
sometimes you get stressed from your finals projects, and you push him away, and sae leaves you to it. sae doesn’t check up on you as much as you’d like to, and you’re a little too stubborn to tell him that you mind.
sometimes sae would get interviewed and would have to address dating rumours, whether it’s the upcoming supermodel from america or that renowned sexy sports photographer from brazil—it’s hard not to get jealous, especially when you’re kept private.
you can’t blame him for that, not when everyone likes to send hate to the pretty girl he’s supposedly dating.
this is also where you find out that itoshi sae knows you better than anyone. it’s where he always leaves you a reminder he loves you, even when you’re fighting. it’s where he sends you a goodnight text even when you’ve hung up the phone hours ago in anger. it’s where he keeps japan in his weather app just so he can tell you not to be a klutz and fall down when it’s raining. it’s where he declares on international television that no, he’s not available but that’s none of their business.
even if you yearn for him to be next to you at times, sae’s off doing what he’s always wanted to do, and you’re not going to let yourself be a burden—so you do what you want to do, because the last thing you want the headlines to blast is the fact that itoshi sae’s girlfriend is a good-for-nothing.
twenty-three is the age where you start writing articles for a local magazine company, where you take lead on fashion articles while occasionally helping with the sports section.
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𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑
both of your careers are in full flight.
so is your relationship.
sae’s always proud of you, of your achievements, of your efforts even if they didn’t bear fruit. you’re doing so well, making yourself a name in Japan with your articles, with your wonderful insights and funny wit.
he always reads your articles, tells his assistant to get a subscription on the magazine and send it to sae’s hotel, always reads the articles you write. he doesn’t tell you about that though. doesn’t want you getting a big head.
and every time you talk on the phone about your articles and how hard it was to write or how you’re afraid people will take it the wrong way, he acts like he doesn’t even know which article you’re talking about. (he absolutely does.)
“hey, when’s my contract ending again?”
sae’s assistant looks up from his ipad from his seat across him on the private jet. he blinks twice before rifling through his different folders.
“oh, next year.”
a ghost of a smile appears on sae’s face and his assistant thinks he’s hallucinating.
“good.”
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𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄
sae is twenty-five years old when he finally decides he’s ready to come home.
it makes the headlines—how he quit the club and refused to play for them anymore, the reason being that he wants to go back to his roots.
back to you.
because now, at your front door, after he knocks once, twice, and you open it, surprised, sae’s never been more sure that he’s making the right decision.
after all, you’re the only one in the world capable of bringing itoshi sae to his knee.
“will you marry me?”
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yanderestarangel · 1 year
Text
⋆ 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍!𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎'𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀 ⋆
A/N: He's back bitches, DADDY MIGUEL O'HARA.
SYNOPSIS: Miguel is a 45-year-old man who works in a local library, also giving tutoring classes in literature to the local village community, you decide to go visit him after being on vacation, awakening a side of himself that Miguel didn't know.
TW: Yandere themes, age gap, afab anatomy, betrayal, dark themes, threats, manipulation, smut, au.
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YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA -He leads a peaceful life, always opening the library at 9 am and closing at 9 pm, sometimes staying overtime to look at the landscape outside the large windows, to try to forget his failed marriage with his wife.
YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who has the same patterns every day, namely: taking both children to school by car, buying the same fruits to eat throughout the day - a few dates, an apple and a bottle of coffee aluminum portable, hot and sugar-free in the dark green side pouch he carries everything he needs for that day -
YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - What you see in a boring life, everything was the same, he worked out, went for walks on the weekends, watched the same period films after 11pm, in the same leather armchair that got hot in the uncomfortable summer heat, drinking the same beer while the black and white images of the Hollywood film passed through the lens of his glasses, while he smelled the cold food made by his wife, who as always, had left the children with him and gone out.
YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who woke up late that day due to the hangover from the several beers he had on Sunday, rushing to drop his children off at school and avoid an argument with his wife early in the morning. He calmly went to the library, after all, there was no one there at that end of the world. But he was wrong. He soon saw you, sitting on the steps of the cold concrete stairs while waiting for someone to open the library, he had never seen you in the community, so it was a surprise for him to see someone so beautiful and different from the routine faces in the village. Miguel got out of the car, adjusting his round glasses, giving you a polite "good morning", his strong accent mixed with the smell of coffee coming from his lips, he opened the library while looking you up and down, he would casually ask you your name and what you do there. You spoke your reasons politely, while explaining that you were on vacation and decided to visit the tourist attractions of that village, such as the lighthouse and rough sea, as well as the large library, which, in addition to needing some literature classes, you two were taking Miguel O'Hara nods and gives a practically invisible sideways shy smile.
YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who gets excited like a young man when he sees you interested in literature, Miguel would make a point of giving you some books as a gift, explaining about each one, especially if you like gothic literature, such as: Bram Stocker, Marion Zimmer Bradley, Edgar Allan Poe, Bram Stocker - or horror stories, he automatically falls in love if you, speaking excerpts from his favorite stories while pouring you some coffee, sitting in front of him while the two of you did a literary duo circle, the voices echoing through the ancient wood.
"-With a long scrutinizing look at the shadow, which frightens me, which haunts me, And I dream of what no mortal has ever dreamed of, But the vast and silent silence, silent remains; the quiet stillness." -O'Hara reads with a strong, hoarse accent, his voice was raw, reverberating his passion for each verse and word he spoke, holding the book in his thick fingers, now, with the abandonment of the wedding ring he wore, even though he was still married, you didn't need to know that detail.
"-Only you, unique and beloved word, Lenora, you, like a scarce sigh, leave my sad mouth; And the echo, which heard you, whispered to you in space; It was just that, nothing more." -You completed, reading your part in the tale of "The Crow" while feeling the older man's gauze on your body, while Salvatore's hands massaged your bare shoulder, lightly adjusting the clothes you wore, a long and possessive touch.
YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who offers you a ride home, turning on the radio while asking you everything about yourself, if you were dating, if you had traveled with someone, he expected you to be totally alone, totally for him. Miguel drops you off at home while he says a quick goodbye, but he actually just hides the car in the middle of some trees, looking out your windows, writing down your nighttime habits in a diary - he got home later that night, his wife noticed the delay, but he just made up an excuse, mostly lying that he had lost the ring in a library cleaning, which was a lie, he got rid of the ring in the sea, near the local town port -
YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who studied everything about you on the days you two were alone in the library, becomes his refuge. Don't get him wrong, O'Hara loves his children, but he hates coming home and seeing that his marriage is a failure, and that the woman he was once so in love with, young days that passed through his life in long ago, Now she's just a strange and cold woman, but you? You are his treasure, always happy, smiling sweetly, asking if he is okay, or if he has eaten that day, if he needs help with something in his work as a librarian, you are so angelic, so beautiful, so his. You're totally his, aren't you?
YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who lies to you about his private life, saying that his wife and he are divorced and he just lets her live close to the children, he lies so naturally that even he himself believes in the madness of his mind.
YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA- Who finds an excuse to leave you up late with him in the library, telling you about some more books, and giving you a letter, letters that were always sealed in luxurious black paper like an envelope, with a red coat of arms with an 'M' for Miguel, big in the center, he always asked you to open it at home, they were poems and poetry written by him, about you, but each time, with each letter given to you, they became darker, more intense, more... Intimate.
YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Which makes you sit on his muscular legs that night in the peace of the library, while his big, calloused hands lightly run over your thighs, while he praises you. "-Your skin is soft like the finest and purest silk, your lips are full and shiny with life, your smile is like the epitome of beauty, I look at you and see an angel, not even the richest kings who had harems with several women And men, none of them come close to your beauty, mi angelito, did you know that? Your heart is so pure and beautiful, your soul is practically eradicated from your carnal being." -Miguel spoke hoarsely, as he forced you to look at him, his eyes shone, not only with enlightenment but with love, a sick love for you.
YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA -He fingers you slowly and lightly, giving you kisses on the head, feeling the smell and softness of your hair, his fingers enter and curve slightly, he was an expert in that, he wanted to make you come, to make you see the stars in the sky pleasure he could give you. Miguel praises you even more when he sees you moaning so beautifully, writhing in his lap, while he whispers in your ear how well you do it, being such a good girl/boy for him, giving yourself to him like that, like you It's beautiful when your pussy tightens around his fingers, how perfect you are when you let your sweet saliva run down your lips like that, while he gives you all the pleasure, making you squirm on his arm full of veins and scars from the time he had, dirtying the papers and reports he signed, but he doesn't fight with you, no my sweet girl/boy, you are his, Miguel just applies a chaste kiss to your temple, salty with the sweat of sexual effort and the heat of lust from your body, while he just said everything was going to be okay.
YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who was worried when you didn't show up after a few days, so he left work early, seeing you at a local fair. He tried to talk to you, but you were disappointed in him, you had found out he was married, and you felt dirty for giving yourself to him. Miguel O'Hara froze immediately, but he soon recovered his posture, telling you in a serious and cold air that she didn't mean anything to him and you did, but you didn't want to listen, just saying how rubbish he was as a human being and leaving the room. running, hiding in the crowd, he didn't go after you, just walking away with a neutral and serious air, thinking about the next step he would take, and he knew exactly what it would be. He spent every day at your house, placing flowers, chocolates, teddy bears, gifts and books on your doorstep, even if you threw them in the trash, he bought more and more, even more expensive and extravagant. Miguel didn't leave you alone, going to your house every day, even trying to knock on the window, but you didn't pay attention to him, but he didn't care, he wasn't going to give up, he stopped the car every day after his shift from work to look at you,or look at the lighting in your house, where you were, what you were doing, and who you were with.
YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - That on your last day in the village, he left you a letter, in a red envelope, you didn't want to read it, but your curiosity got the better of you, with you finally reading the content of the man's letter.
My dear, (Y/N) This may sound strange, but I like it when you hide like a scared little bunny, running away from me like that, as if I were a predator? so I am offended my dear. Do you know how far I'm willing to go for you? Do you know exactly what things I can do to try? Do you know the dark thoughts I can carry out with your friends or family? If you gave in. We would be even more than perfect together, we were born to be each other's my love. Just as the sun rises day after day, just as the moon appears in the dead of night. Just as the stars shine in the black sky of the dark and cold night, void of voice. Just as birds spend their lungs in a melodious song, unable to be stopped by foolish men. Just like every natural phenomenon and incapable of being stopped, I will make you mine. just mine. You can try to scream, try to escape or even ignore me, like a mirror covered with a fine linen fabric, I'm still there, watching you, attentive to your smallest details, your flaws, your sins, your darkest, hidden fears. inside your mind, the intimate and core of your most secret suffering... I know everything, I know you more than you know yourself. We are destined to be one, drawn by a happy and unhappy destiny, a piece of the gods perhaps, who are we to question love? In fact, I'll ask you one more time, you love me, right? Just try to say you don't love me... Then I will destroy you... I k-
You didn't even finish reading the letter, hearing heavy footsteps coming from the back door, while you saw a tall figure standing in the dark shadow of the hallway, something dripping on the floor while those familiar and maddened brown eyes stared at you, deep in your soul, Miguel O'Hara.
"-And you know, (Y/N)... you shouldn't leave the door open."
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©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023
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certifiedcodbabygirl · 5 months
Note
clearly the only solution to the penpal au is you’re supposed to write to ghost but the entire task force hijacks the letters every once in a while. /hj /lh
Price also ends up doing that too once he realizes why the entire team becomes obsessed with writing letters
DUDE YES *smooches your brain*
Simon starts writing to you through a military penpal program Price had all of them in. Ofc, like the rat bastard he is, he drags his fuckin feet on it. Eventually, you manage to get him a little more willing to write back and it seems like he even looks forward to it. He's the first one to grab his letter from the container when they come. He claims it's to get it over with, but the other guys know better.
You'd think the other guys would be the ones more open to their penpals but NO. They managed to be paired with some of, who they call, the most boring people they could have met. Hell, even Price began to drag his feet after the 2nd letter back.
Simon seems to be the only one actually enjoying his exchanges, even if he tries to hide it. Johnny's the first one to get curious, wanting to know what the LT's got that's good enough to loosen the stick in his ass.
While Simon's out of the room, Johnny reads through the first couple letters Simon received. Your sweet words, stupid jokes, and genuine care are a stark contrast from the uninterested and short words he received from his penpal.
He stops writing to his penpal, not that they noticed/ cared, and grew the balls to write you one. He claimed his penpal dropped out, so they had to make do, not that you minded. And God, when you started to write back, he swore it was like he was a schoolboy all over again. Getting excited for the letters, heart racing as he reads your carefully written words, counting down the days till he gets another.
He gets ballsy one night and opens up to Gaz about what he did, not showing a single crumb of remorse. Tells him all about how sweet you are, how you show genuine care for his safety, even giving the idea of sending a care package. He could see that same thought process going through Kyle's mind, contemplating switching to you. He gave Kyle your address and told him to just come up with an excuse.
Now Kyle's a little smarter than Johnny, knowing that if Ghost finds out he's probably fucked. However, at the end of the day, he's a lonely man. He had this sweet thing like you just within reach and he's supposed to not take it? Yeah right.
He gave the same excuse Johnny did, claiming his penpal's schedule became too busy to write back, and just like that you had 3 soldiers wrapped around your finger. He sweet talked you, gave little puns here and there, really became like a lap cat. He wasn't as forward as Johnny and not as refrained as Simon. He gave you music recommendations when you say you like a certain genre, he gave you book recommendations, even sent you photos of him in front of a helicopter (you begged for it when he told you about him falling out).
Now, Simon isn't stupid. He isn't clueless. He noticed that the first couple letters went missing. Then he noticed Johnny being more eager to write. Same with Kyle. He noticed how they seemed to pull away from him when the topic was brought up. He's not a stupid man.
He might even be considered generous (don't say it to his face though, he'll take it as sarcasm). He knows the boys are talking to his penpal, but he'll be kind enough to share. His sweet lil thing. If you can keep up, that is. Your letters seem to boost morale and bring a small light that wasn't there before. They're all hard-working men, risking their lives to keep the world clean. They deserve this, don't they?
Even Price finds himself wanting in on it. If you can manage to bring Simon happiness (again, he won't admit it) and keep the other boys happy, surely you can take on one more. He sends you a letter, as their captain, and thanks you for what you've done. You're such a kind soul for giving these men some hope in their lives (laying it on thick, gotta keep em interested) and how much you've helped their performances.
They all write to you, their unofficial 141 penpal, and it works surprisingly well. The lines begin to blur a bit on being platonic and something else, but it'll be sorted out eventually. For now you're just theirs (Simon came around to it once he realized you had plenty of love to go around). You're the 141's, even if you don't fully understand what that means.
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The first picture they send to you, around Christmas^ (I can't find the artist, please tag them if you know who it is)
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diremoone · 10 months
Text
quiet kisses | r. sukuna
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prompt 2 — “I’ll kiss you anywhere but under the mistletoe.”
requested by @yuujispinkhair :: Heyyy babe, your Christmas prompt post is so cute 💗💗 If you feel inspired, can you please write a little something for Sukuna + prompt 2 or prompt 7 (whichever you prefer)? 💗💗
a/n: AHHHH thank you so much for sending this in Winter! 🤩 I can’t tell you how much I nearly exploded seeing your request in my inbox! I went with prompt 2 because that’s the one my brain started working for the fastest. I hope you like it and I did your request justice :3
w — alcohol mention, fluff, everyone is 20+ in this fic, modern AU, mentions of prompt 7 heehee, softie! sukuna, sukuna cooks at the end lmao but it’s not related to the chef! sukuna fic
[ Christmas Prompt List ]
[ Christmas Event Masterlist ]
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Nobara putting on this Christmas party was anything but unexpected. She was a party girl at heart, but nothing like what you’d see at a frat house or a club. No, she was the party master (or so she likes to call herself). And you kinda had to agree. Her parties weren’t over the top, but they definitely were anything but boring.
This time was no different: catering, along pizza and wine delivery, along with some of the more higher-rated Christmas movies playing on the TV with English Christmas music playing on the background, just loud enough that it wasn’t obnoxious.
You knew your boyfriend had to agree, even if he hated attending social events and parties.
What an introvert, you muse to yourself. You wonder how many people realize that as much as Sukuna seems like it, he doesn’t actually like parties. Nor anyone but himself and you at said parties.
You and Sukuna are off to the side against the bar that separates the kitchen and living area, deep in your own little world of each other. You’re leaning on him, his big arm wrapped around your shoulders comfortably.
You nudge him. “This isn’t so bad. See!”
Sukuna scoffs. “That’s what you said when you forced me into that Santa costume last year.”
“But you had some fun, didn’t you?”
“In the suit? No. Terrorizing children in it? Absolutely.”
You slap his chest. He catches your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. You grumble. “You idiot.”
“Your idiot,” he remarks with a grin.
Suddenly, like magic, the party suddenly gets loud. Jingle Bells comes on the playlist set up, and everyone has begun to sing as loud as they possibly can. Sukuna grumbles and plugs one ear with a finger, rolling his eyes. He keeps on ear open, and you know it’s just to listen to you as you attempt to sing your way through the giggles.
When the song ends, everyone cheers. Sukuna unplugs his one ear and sighs, taking another sip of the hot chocolate you’ve made for him. They all quiet down, giggling and giddy from the sudden excitement of the old but catchy tune.
But why is everyone now looking at his and your direction?
And then everyone starts chanting: “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”
You and Sukuna look up at the same time, seeing a mistletoe being hung over your heads by a fishing rod, but none other than the Party Master herself. Nobara grins sadistically with an evil glint in her eye.
Sukuna cusses and downs the rest of his drink before saying, “I think that’s our cue to leave. Nice party, Kugisaki.”
You attempt to down the rest of yours before he grabs your hand with his bigger one and leads you out the front door, almost stumbling over your own two feet.
Behind you, everyone complains about Sukuna being a “party pooper” and leaving. Before you two leave, he turns back to them and gives them the finger.
“It wouldn’t be so bad if we weren’t the only couple here. Maybe Geto and Gojo should finally shack up,” Sukuna says with an evil grin. The two men next to each other go redder than tomatoes in record time. Sukuna isn’t done though, looking at his little brother. “And maybe you and Fushiguro should finally get a room, too, baby brother.”
The chaos from your boyfriend’s words gives you the chance to leave without trouble, the two unspoken couples now being the main attention of Kugisaki’s evil fishing rod-mistletoe.
Maybe they’ll be together come New Years, you think happily.
Sukuna drives you both home. One hand on the wheel, the other intertwined sweetly with yours. But by the time you get home, you’re halfway asleep in the car, hot cocoa being the perpetrator of your tiredness. You attempt to blink and wake up, but Sukuna’s gruff, “Stay put.” halts you as he turns the car off, keeping his keys in one hand.
You have no idea what he’s doing until he opens your door and slides his arms under your back and legs. You squeal and giggle as he effortlessly picks you up from your seat.
“Goddamn, you got the giggles tonight,” he mutters.
Like he’s done it a thousand times (he’s at least done it a couple dozen), Sukuna unlocks the front door with you in his arms with pure ease. He carries you over the threshold like a husband would his bride and doesn’t set you down. He hoists you up, readjusting your position closer to his chest. And then you see the cunning look in his eyes.
“Sukuna, what are you— mmph!”
He dips his head and captures your lips with his. He’s warm, so warm and comforting. You feel so safe and loved in his hold and damn do you love him. Your arms naturally tighten their hold around his neck as you two kiss in your home.
When Sukuna pulls away, he chuckles. You’re slightly breathless from the sudden kiss, but grinning nonetheless.
“You couldn’t do that at the party?” you inquire curiously.
“I’ll kiss you anywhere but under the mistletoe,” he replies honestly. “Especially at a party in front of people. Not my thing to make such an intimate spectacle of ourselves.”
Your heart flutters and overflows with love at his desire to keep his affection solely for your eyes to see. Sukuna has never been one to kiss or do intimate things in public beyond hand holding or wrapping his arm around your shoulders. For him, he considers that to be sacred; any acts of love he prefers to be behind closed doors, kept between the two of you and not in front of people to be fawned over or talked about.
“You really are the sweetest man I’ve ever met,” you say. “I’m so lucky. I really got the best man ever, didn’t I? Thanks, Universe.”
Your boyfriend’s cheeks tint red. A rare sight.
“Fuck. No, I’m the lucky one.” Sukuna gives you a fat smooch on the lips, the adds, “But I don’t have the universe to thank. I got you all by myself.”
You toss your head back and laugh at his indirect proclamation of arrogance. Or maybe it was just unshakable confidence, who knows?
Sukuna sets you down on the couch and asks, “What do you want for dinner?”
You think for a moment before replying, “Didn’t you say wanted to make some penne vodka the other day? That sounds good.”
“Penne alla vodka,” he corrects you with a stern eye.
You toss your hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry.”
But as Sukuna gets to work on the dish, you can’t help but stare at him as he works. He could be a master chef like Gordon Ramsey, if not better. But you’re kinda glad he’s not, not if you get to see him in your kitchen every night.
Yeah, you’d trade any party and PDA for his quiet kisses and love at home any day.
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taglist:
@vagabond-umlaut | @poe-daydreams | @heresan @thedovahqueen | @lotus-n-l0ve | @chiyoso | @miraclecherryblossomsblog | @unbreakableblueheaven | @marscatbutler | @vanillabloo | @wo-ming-bai | @visionsofmagic | @tohsri | @lilacliliess | @bub-ss | @missmuffinr
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sooniebby · 1 year
Note
This is my first time doing a request, I hope it doesn't bother you and you can choose the character you want to cast as Reader's partner. So imagine a world where hybrids exist, but they only make up a few percent of the world's population.
Reader is a snow leopard hybrid, but because the snow leopard is smaller than a leopard, much smaller than a tiger, and slightly smaller than a forest lynx, so he has the character of fluffy white ears and tail and short height, he works in an office and because his big and long fluffy tail can annoy people he often bites his own tail so as not to disturb others and it makes people who are in the same department with him spend a little time just to stroke his head and get a purring reaction from him.
This was heard by the Office manager's ears and became curious which in the end he made Reader a private secretary and often stroked Reader's head, until one day he accidentally pulled Reader's tail and got an unexpected reaction. Since then he has often pulled Reader's tail with 'accident' reasons which ended with office sex.
You can change it or ignore it if you feel uncomfortable, sorry if this is too long and sorry if my English is bad. Have a good day
:]
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ఌ 𝐎𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
꧁ 𝙏𝙤𝙧𝙪 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂
Word count › 3.6k
Rating › NSFT
Warnings › none
Kinks › breeding, size kink, creampie, mentions of free use
╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
╰┈─➤ BEGINNING
(Name) didn’t hate being a hybrid. Sure there was the weirdos that wanted to keep him a pet but most treated him as a regular person. The only odd part was having people just touching his head.
It certainly didn’t help that he couldn’t help the purring that happened whenever he did. It just kept going so he ignored it most time. The pats were nice anyway.
At his job, his boring office job that he’d been debating on quitting, had two people who just couldn’t let go of his hair (plus ears). Kuroo and Bokuto loved to pet him as if he was a house cat.
He usually purred whenever they touched him since they figured out how to get that reaction from it. His ears were sensitive, don’t judge.
(Name)’s tail swished around as he began to get irritated at the paper work in front of him. That damn boss of his was annoying him with the amount of shit he continued to give him on a daily basis. He was just about to get up from his seat when someone stepped in his tail.
He cried out in pain, which was more akin to a cat’s scream, as he grabbed his tail and held it close to himself. Everyone in the office stared at him in shock while the culprit, Yamaguchi, looked as if he wanted to kill himself.
“I’m so sorry!!! Please forgive me!!” He cried, bowing down onto the ground. (Name) simply nodded. He knew he didn’t do it on purpose.
His tail was much longer than normal hybrids. It also didn’t help that he was shorter so it made his tail appear longer than it actually was.
But Yamaguchi wouldn’t be the only one to step on it. Soon enough, at least everyone stepped on it at least once. Kuroo twice became he didn’t watch where his big ass feet went but (Name) had to figure out what to do.
The pain was becoming unbearable and he was sure another two steps would cause his tail to break. He decided, when every other idea sounded stupid, to just hold it in his mouth.
(Name) was used to the fur in his mouth so it didn’t bother him to lightly hold the tail. This way, he didn’t have to fold it into an uncomfortable position for longer than hour. A few times he wrapped his tail around his waist but that always got a cramp after an hour or so.
“It’s like you got your own silencer,” Bokuto once said, scratching (Name)’s hair during his break. (Name) purred happily, his tail curling around Bokuto’s waist to hold him close.
“Oh, he could use his tail during sex.” Kuroo suddenly said, a smirk on his lips.
Kenma looked confused. “Why would he?” He was resisting the urge to pet (Name). His love for cats extended to (Name) heavily but he never actually touched him in fear of making uncomfortable.
“To muffle his moans,” Kuroo rolled his eyes. “Perfect for when you don’t want to get caught.”
“Oh, so dirty,” Bokuto laughed.
“Weirdo…” Kenma whispered.
(Name) was too busy enjoying his massage to care.
The four of them stopped talking when Iwaizumi had walked past them. He nodded in greeting which they returned. Iwaizumi looked mainly confused on Bokuto petting (Name) but didn’t say anything as he walked to his office.
Iwaizumi was the boss’s secretary. He was hardly outside of his office. It usually meant something bad happened if he was.
“Do you think the boss knows?” Kuroo asked.
“Know what?” (Name) questioned, frowning when Bokuto stopped his massage.
“About you. I heard he loves hybrids.”
“In a fetish way?”
“Dunno. Probably.”
Kenma sighed. “I’m getting back to work.”
Bokuto seemed to be deep in thought for a moment before shrugging. “He hardly comes out of his room like Iwaizumi. He wouldn’t care about (Name).”
“True.”
But how wrong they were.
It was a week later after Iwaizumi saw the petting zoo with Bokuto and (Name). And suddenly (Name) was being requested to meet the Boss. He felt worried.
Sure hybrids had protections on them but this was a private company. What couldn’t they get away with if they paid the right people? His coworkers all looked a bit worried themselves as they watched him walk away to the office.
They certainly didn’t help his heart calm down.
He knocked on the door waiting for the voice of a much older man to allow him in. But he only heard a much younger voice. (Name) hesitantly walked inside the office and saw a man possibly only four years his senior.
Oh, he was much younger than he thought. Okay, maybe he could get off the hook for whatever problem he caused. (Name) quickly bowed and closed the door, walking over to the seat in front of the desk.
The man’s brown hair was slicked back with a nice pair of glasses on his face. His smile was wide, a bit creepy but way more welcoming than (Name) had imagined. The man watched him for a second before his smile faded and he slide over a folder.
“Mister Hiragi, yes? You’ve been working with our company for over four years, right when I started after I took over for my father.”
“Yes…”
“I would like to offer you a promotion. You handled any work I sent your way with ease. I believe you deserve a higher position.”
(Name) nodded, a smile on his face. Oh, guess he could stay here a bit longer.
“My personal assistant, is the job I’m offering.”
“Isn’t Iwaizumi-San your secretary?”
“A personal assistant is different than a secretary. You’ll only work for me. Iwaizumi doesn’t have any power over you.”
(Name) hummed, his tail swishing around as he was deep in thought. His eyes were down on the folder, not noticing the man’s eyes that followed his tail with a hint of mischievousness.
“If this is alright for me to ask, will the salary increase?”
“Of course.”
“Then I accept.”
“Great. You’ll start next week, enjoy your Friday, Mister Hiragi.”
(Name) was right where he wanted him. Just how lucky was he?
(Name) had learned the boss name was Oikawa and that Iwaizumi had no fear in talking shit to his face. The amount of ‘shittykawa’ that or ‘asskawa’ this, Iwaizumi still kept his job.
He envied him.
He wanted to cuss out Oikawa too.
After the weekend, that Monday he first started his new high paying job, he was told to make coffee.
A fucking coffee!
After that, he was told to organize a shelf that had bothering Oikawa because he kept forgetting to higher a cleaner. Maybe he should’ve read the contract first before saying yes. But he told himself it was good money.
But it wasn’t just that that made him want to cuss him out, no it was the constant touching of his tail.
(Name) was bending down to pick up some trash when he felt Oikawa grasp his tail. It was a quick touch, as if he wanted to just feel if it was real. And it wasn’t the last time either.
(Name)’s office was now technically Oikawa’s. His old cubicle was given to a new employee so he couldn’t even go back to it if he wanted to. He did visit his coworkers during breaks but he didn’t get the Bokuto massages or Kuroo scratches anymore like he loved.
No, he had to worry with the tail pervert who continuously grasped it before letting go as if it burned him. He really wanted to know what was so tempting about it but decided the money was too good to take any chances.
There were a few times Oikawa pet his hair. It usually lasted just a second, but still resulted in a purr from (Name). (Name) wondered if it was because he was missing head pats for him to enjoy the simply touch from Oikawa.
“Hiragi, can you please hand this out for me?” Oikawa asked, handing over a stack of paper into his hands without even looking up from his computer. (Name) scrunched up his lips into a snarl but hummed, turning over to walk away when Oikawa grabbed his tail.
(Name) stopped and turned back to look at him but only got a mischievous smirk from Oikawa as he let go. His tail swished angrily as he huffed and stomped away to hand out the papers. What was so fun about his tail anyway?
It was similar to a regular cat! He couldn’t just get a cat if he liked touching tails so much?
The rest of the work for Oikawa was surprisingly easy. He felt as if his workload had lessen actually. Sharing an office with Oikawa felt weird though. He had to sit on the chair across from Oikawa, effectively sharing the desk.
It was a large desk so they weren’t cramped but it still felt a bit weird. But he wouldn’t complain. Oikawa never spoke to him during his job unless necessary. He guessed the only thing that truly bothered him about Oikawa was the tail touching.
At least he didn’t have to worry about people stepping on it to though. He was free to let it move around. But he still sometimes had the urge to bite on it again. It had become a habit at this point.
“What species are you?” Oikawa suddenly asked, not looking up from his paperwork.
(Name) blinked. His ears twitched. Most people just knew by looking at him. “A snow leopard.”
“Is that why your hair is white?”
“Yes.”
Oikawa glanced up at him, as if he was trying to study (Name) before a smirk appeared on his lips.
“Has anyone ever played with your tail before?”
“I…”
“Leave him alone, Shittykawa.”
Iwaizumi was in the office. When did he get there? (Name) watched as Oikawa pouted, a look that actually looked cute on him before turning on his blank face. He guessed it was his work default setting. Iwaizumi began speaking to Oikawa about something (Name) didn’t care about so he tuned them out.
His tail curled around in the air as he finished his work much earlier than expected. He was bored. Oikawa was still speaking to Iwaizumi about something so (Name) decided to bring his tail up to his mouth and lightly bite on it, his ears twitching in delight.
“Have a good day, Hiragi.” Iwaizumi suddenly said, walking away to leave.
“What about me? Where’s my goodbye?” Oikawa whined.
“Go fuck yourself.”
The door slammed shut behind Iwaizumi as (Name) wanted to laugh. He was glad his tail was in his mouth at the moment so he muffled it easily. (Name) glanced over at Oikawa and paused when he saw the odd look he was giving him.
Oikawa looked shocked at the sight in front of him. What? Had he never seen a cat hold it’s own tail before? Possibly not a hybrid, (Name) thought to himself as he pulled his tail away from his mouth. He forced a small smile and got back to staring at his computer.
He wanted to go home.
What he didn’t notice was the smirk on Oikawa’s lips.
He was liking this hybrid more and more each day.
(Name) placed down the coffee on Oikawa’s side of the desk, tired of doing the same morning task everyday for almost a month now. But the pay was too good to complain to anyone. Oikawa didn’t even say thank you to him anymore.
When he turned to go back to his side, Oikawa grabbed his tail. And it wasn’t a usual grasp. No, he fucking tugged it. Harshly.
(Name) had always hated how sensitive his tail was to every touch. He didn’t screech. He didn’t yell or howl in pain.
No, he fucking moaned. His back arched as he gripped at the desk beside him. It was silent after his pitiful moan. Oikawa’s hand was still holding his tail while it wiggled to get away.
(Name) wanted to kill himself.
Maybe he should quit.
“Sorry…” Oikawa muttered, releasing his tail.
“It’s fine…” (Name) excuses himself to the toilet. He never wanted to wake up ever again.
It certainly didn’t help that after that, Oikawa didn’t stop touching his tail. No, it seemed like he wanted to get the same reaction that he got he first time. At first, (Name) skillfully dodged most of this.
But there was still a few times Oikawa grabbed it right before he could move it and tug it, earning a whine or gasp from (Name) each time. It also bothered (Name) that he looked forward to it each day.
He couldn’t exactly pull his own tail. His body sent signals in his head that it would hurt and not be pleasurable whenever he tried during masturbation but Oikawa proved it wrong.
(Name) decided that if Oikawa was going to act like this but not do anything further, he might as well try to fuck him. He could always find a new job. Dick was more important.
He just needed some tips.
And he knew just who to ask.
“I’m so disgusted you’re speaking to me about that man.”
“I’m so sorry, Iwaizumi-San! But you have to help me! It’s a…. Hybrid! Thing, y’know? My inner (?) animal is bonded to him now…”
(Name) was spitting out some bullshit but his pouty frown made Iwaizumi not kick him out as soon as he mentioned sex.
“Well, he doesn’t have a fetish for hybrids. He’s just asking weird with you. He just said you were cute last time I asked. Honestly, just ask him.”
“Won’t it be inappropriate?”
“It’s inappropriate to talk to me about this stuff. Shittykawa is also inappropriate to touch your tail. Also your coworkers. But he’s too fucking lazy to enforce rules so I guess they don’t matter.”
(Name) blinked. Oh, he didn’t know it was inappropriate for someone to touch an hybrid’s tail or ears. It made sense….
Yeah, in a more regulated company Bokuto and literally everyone else would’ve been fired.
“Oh, well, thank you.”
“Just have sex when everyone has left, please. I don’t want to hear Lazykawa’s moans.”
(Name) wondered how many nicknames Iwaizumi had for him.
But he now had a plan. Just ask for sex. Oikawa couldn’t say no. He was obviously mildly interested if he kept trying to make him moan.
(Name) wondered how he should execute the plan, however. Since it seemed during the work day, Oikawa ignored him the entire time. Only two times did he look at him and one was to tell him he had a stain on his shirt. The other was to ask for a snack from the vending machine.
It reached around 6 pm, the time most people had left on a Friday night. He was supposed to be leaving now, suggested by Oikawa’s stare at him from time to time. His tail swished around as he closed his laptop, wanting to fake getting ready to leave.
He yawned, as his tail reached over and flicked at Oikawa’s glasses. Oikawa looked up from his computer, a confused look on his face. (Name) grinned, curling his tail around his glasses and pulling it off his face.
“Oikawa-San, you seem to obsess over my tail.”
Oikawa closed his laptop and stood up from his seat. He towered over (Name), a grin on his face.
“It’s a cute tail, Hiragi.”
(Name) placed the glasses on the desk and walked over to Oikawa’s side. “Oikawa… do you want to see me…”
“See you?”
“See on your desk, naked?”
(Name) felt himself cringe a bit at his words but he knew it worked at the smirk Oikawa gave him. He got him so easily. His tail reached up to wrap around Oikawa’s neck and smirked.
“My tail looks so good around your neck.”
“How does my hand feel around your tail, baby?”
(Name) squirmed at the tug of his tail. He was fully naked at the bottom with only his dress shirt on. His tie used to bound his hands together which left him unable to do much. He could take it, it wasn’t too tight but it felt nice to have them.
Oikawa was way more aggressive than he had imagined. After his little comment, he had pushed him to lay down face first into the desk. Swiftly pulling down his pants and underwear to get a good look at his ass. His ass was something Oikawa had only seen through pants that hardly captured the look bare.
He massaged them before delivering two quick slaps to them, earning a gasp from (Name). Oikawa was taking his sweet time with giving (Name) any sense of penetration. It was as if he wanted him to beg for it.
Oikawa tightened his grip around (Name)’s tail and pulled once more, enjoying the whine from the small man beneath him. His body was much larger compared to the hybrid’s, covering it with ease whenever he leaned down.
He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on (Name)’s bubble butt, enjoying the giggle that left his lips. (Name) grunted when he felt Oikawa bite down on his butt, using a free hand to massage his left cheek.
Oikawa had thought only female hybrids would have self lubrication. So he pulled out a bottle of lube from his desk drawer, he had masturbated in here once. But to his shock, (Name) was leaking slick.
“You have slick?” Oikawa asked, a look of awe on his face.
(Name) blushed in embarrassment. “We can all produce slick… you can just fuck me, my body can handle it.”
“Hm, really? Then realistically, I could grab you whenever I wanted during work and just fuck you?”
“Yes…”
“We should add that to your contract. You’re a personal assistant for a reason, let’s add sex to the list,” Oikawa joked but (Name) couldn’t hate the idea.
It sounded sexy to think about entering Oikawa’s office and being told to cockwarm him during the day. (Name) mewled at the thought as Oikawa slipped in two fingers easily, he stretched his hole a bit to get him ready. Whenever his fingers went close to his prostate, Oikawa only grazed it.
“Oikawa… c’mon… fuck me.” (Name) whined, tail twitching in Oikawa’s hand.
“Want me to pump me full with my cum? That’s what you hybrid’s love, yeah? To be stuffed full.”
(Name) nodded. “I wanna see you though…”
Oikawa hummed as he flipped (Name) to lay on his back. He pulled down his pants and his cock was free to the cold air. (Name) grinned as he watched Oikawa pull at his tie, loosening it. His hair was still slicked back as the light from the sunset shined behind him.
(Name)’s tail curled as Oikawa rubbed his cock against his slick covered hole. He waited with a baited breath, his more animalistic side mewling at the chance of getting breed.
It took two more fake outs until Oikawa slammed his cock inside (Name). He gripped his waist and held him still as started out with a fast pace. (Name) cried out, legs wrapping around Oikawa’s waist.
(Name) moved his tail to his mouth to muffle his moans. Sure, most workers would’ve been gone by now but you never know those weirdos who worked unpaid overtime. Oikawa seemed to into it as he somehow managed to get faster. His cock continuous brushed against his prostate, causing (Name) to arch his back.
His ass was dripping with slick, allowing Oikawa to easily fuck him. The sound of squelching, skin slapping together, and the muffled cries from (Name) filled the office. (Name) was mainly surprised the desk could hold his weight with how fast and harsh Oikawa was thrusting inside of him.
It was squeaking with each thrust, making (Name) worried it would’ve break beneath him.
“(Name)…” Oikawa grunted.
(Name) hummed. He was too far gone to notice him saying his first name. The feeling of Oikawa’s cock inside him was dumbing him down.
“(Name), this isn’t a one time thing, I hope you know that…” Oikawa grabbed his legs and pushed them to rest near his head. (Name) felt himself cry at the new position. The burn of being stretched out like this as well as Oikawa’s cock reaching in even deeper.
He felt close.
(Name) removed his tail from his mouth and used it to wrap around Oikawa’s neck to pull him down for a kiss. Oikawa kissed him back as his thrusting began to become inconsistent. He was also close.
“Inside…” (Name) mewled when Oikawa pulled away from the kiss. He couldn’t get pregnant. Not by a male human but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t like the feeling of cum inside of him.
“You think it’ll take? Some cute little snow leopards.”
(Name) moaned. He wanted that badly.
It took two more thrusts before Oikawa pushed in deep inside to have his orgasm. (Name) was right after him, crying out before moving his tail to muffle it.
Oikawa’s previously slicked back hair was out and wild, covering half of his face as he grinned at (Name). (Name) purred at the sight of him and wrapped his tail around his waist.
Maybe he shouldn’t leave his job so quickly.
“If you guys are done… I’ll just slid the paperwork underneath the door,” the sound of paper sliding from the floor was heard.
The voice was Ushijima.
“Congrats on your new relationship.” Ushijima said before leaving.
Actually, maybe he should find a new job.
╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
╰┈─➤ END
This was fun to write. Thank you for the request!
Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @kiiyoooo @chill-guy-but-cooler @mello-life69
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mitch-the-silly · 7 months
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Totally love your works. I have an angst idea 😆 so fem!reader and Vox have been in a long term relationship, like during the time Alastor was gone. Now that he's back, he's become his obsession and starts to neglect reader and brushes any affection she's trying to give and receive off. When she finally tries to talk to him about how he's focusing all his energy on the radio demon, he basically goes off on her and says how it's the only thing that matters. She, feeling unimportant, leaves and it's not until he sees her things gone from their shared place that he realizes he fucked up.
Can lead to him groveling like a simp and end in fluff comfort and makeouts. Or can end there if you wanted to leave your readers in suspense if you want to do it in two parts 😈 muaha I'm evil.
RAHHHHHH!!!!
I took some time with this one because I had to cook it up with care. When I tell you Alastor and Vox's dynamic is what I BREATHE FOR-
Now add someone else to the mix on Vox's side- This is something I've been waiting to write for WEEKS-
RAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!
I was going feral writing this- Anyway, enjoy your angst >:DDD
This is a two parter!!!
Vox x fem!reader
Angst!!!
"Can't Seem to Hold Me, Can't Seem to Let Him Go" Pt.1
Part 2
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It was a privilege to receive affection from Vox. Not even that, but it seemed that if it wasn’t for you, his life was boring and mundane. Nothing truly got him all excited and manic anymore, and he was starting to hate his life a little bit. He was already at the top of the game, he and the rest of the Vees were the most powerful overlords. What else was there to do around here?
But, well, all was not bad, he had you. While the power he held had a kick to it, there was nothing like the drug of rivalry. But with Alastor gone, he had to settle for the next best thing, love. Oh, it ought to be an adventure. And that drug had such a kick, oh he was obsessed with it.
And that’s where you came into the picture, he met you at a nightclub. So pretty and talented, just the kind of people he loved to surround himself by, just what he wanted, just what he craved… And you kept him as entertained as he needed to be. To the point that he felt like perhaps he was sort of falling in love with you. Oh, how the bliss of forgetting his fights of the past with a pretty woman. He’d allowed his heart the validation it needed and he figured if someone loved him as deeply as you did, truly everyone loved him.
Of course, he still had to balance Velvette and Valentino, but that was the mundane part of his power-hungry scheme. The mixture, of your attention and doting intertwined with his total control of the population… oh he was living the life… truly. Or at least that was what he tried to tell himself. Ever since Alastor disappeared, he felt a hole in his heart. Something that couldn’t quite be quenched by all the power the world had to offer or the women this land had to throw at him.
It was the pure thrill of obsession that he missed, that he craved, but no one was a worthy opponent to him anymore. Alastor was gone. Alastor… his one and only obsession… what was he to do now? He could not fathom being this bored and empty all eternity. But what could he do about it? Nothing but sit and sulk, truly. But to himself, of course, he knew that telling you this would just leave you confused about your position in his eyes. And he truly did care about you, but… you were the only interesting thing in his life, and his one fatal flaw was always wanting for more.
You had your arm linked with Vox’s, ascending from his TV surveillance room onto the upper floors. You tapped his shoulder, catching his attention. “You’ve got a little somethin’.” You chuckled, pointing at the corner of his mouth. “Let me get it.” You giggled, gesturing for him to lean down. He obliged and you wiped the edge of his lips with your thumb.
“Forgot to get that spot. It’s hard to get all of them, you know? You should start cleaning up your own mess.~” He teased.
“It’s not my fault someone wanted to make out down there…” You huffed jokingly, linking arms with him again. You two stood still, smiling like cardboard cutouts as you waited for the elevator doors to open. The second they did, a crowd surrounded you two. Asking both of you all sorts of questions. It was always this way, an everyday routine since Vox was a celebrity, and by dating him, so were you. Every public area you were in was nothing but camera flashes and microphones. It was a bit much at times, but Vox enjoyed it so much, that you didn’t seem to mind too much. Once their questions were answered, and Vox shooed them away, you two went to your destination freely. And you continued to do this for days and days after that. You loved your routine, and found peace in the sort of monotony you two had.
But oh no, no good thing lasts forever. An unlucky morning, you found yourself in Vox’s surveillance room, sitting on his lap, enjoying each other’s company. It was a day like no other, truly.
“Look at that!” He shouted, pointing at one of his monitors, “What does it feel like to be with someone so rich and fucking powerful, baby? Just look at how easily they flock to me~” He chuckled, caressing your face.
“Oh~ You’re just the perfect mastermind~ I’m the luckiest sinner in hell~” You cooed, kissing the bottom corner of his screen, leaving behind a red lipstick kiss stain.
“Why don’t you kiss a bit higher?~ You missed my mouth entirely~?” He cooed back, fake pouting at you as to request you kiss his lips.
You obliged, leaning closer to him, but just before you planted your kiss, his face blared with an incoming call screen. His ringtone was so stupid, but it was charming nonetheless. You saw who was calling him: Velvette. She was either calling to annoy him (which you totally respected; annoying Vox was your favorite pastime after making out with him), or because she needed something important. So you sat back down in his lap as Vox answered the phone, passing the call from his face to a television.
“Hello there, Velvette! How are you this… hellish morning?~” Vox chuckled, picking up his coffee mug and taking a sip from it, after which he pecked your lips. He was a huge fan of flaunting you to his fellow Vees.
“Oh cut the shit Vox. I need you up here. Now.” Velvette demanded, side-eyeing you slightly, but then smiling when you looked at her.
Vox, continued to tenderly touch you, caressing your cheek, not even looking at Velvette anymore, just admiring your precious face. “Whatever could be the problem, dear?”
“Well, your little boy-toy, is wrecking my department while I’m trying to pull together a show! And-” She paused, to turn behind her, Valentino could be heard in the background as flying body parts flew behind Velvette. It was most definitely another Valentino tantrum. Vox had no choice but to turn to her now… “So get your ass here! Now. And don’t bring your girlfriend, it’s NOT going to make Valentino feel any better, you know how he’s always bitching about her.” Velvette yelled, after which she turned around to yell at Valentino, immediately hanging up afterward.
Vox sighed, the adoring smile he gave you morphing into an annoyed frown. “Stay here, doll. I have to stop another tantrum…” He picked you up and placed you on his chair. Then he walked away, muttering under his breath about how tedious having to check on Val was and how he hated his life.
A bit of pity overcame you, but you figured it was simply the burden power came with. You frowned at being left out of the situation, but you smiled at the realization that you didn’t have to sit there and wonder what came of this whole fiasco. Vox’s cameras! Oh, they were all over the place, and you knew how to work the surveillance room perfectly.
So you began to observe him, watching him talk to some paparazzi, announcing a new product or line, perhaps, then leaving towards Velvette’s department. And ‘in shambles’ was an understatement when it came to describing what you saw in there. Models running around, Velvette yelling at some designers, Valentino had definitely thrown the place off course, but you knew Velvette had it under control. She was always on top of things.
You observed how she spoke to Vox, shooing him up to Valentino’s tower… You hated that place. You would have started off there if it wasn’t for Vox seeing you first. And oh the stories you’ve heard about it… You didn’t talk to Valentino much, but the very few times you did he was very passive-aggressive. You didn’t like him much, but you understood that the porn industry was something Vox needed to have control over in order to have the power he desired. You weren’t too fond of… his history with Vox, and you didn’t even wanna know if they still had something going on. You preferred to stay in the shadows about it. If anything was still happening, you were sure it was because Vox needed him in check. And Valentino was a tricky one for sure, but you’d rather not think about the subject.
You observed Vox enter Valentino’s quarters, his room was full of that red smoke he always had around him. You knew it was a drug of sorts… it made you sick to your stomach to think that maybe Vox was under it too… But, again, not something you liked to think about. Vox approached him and the second Valentino saw him, he got up, smashed his cocktail glass on the floor in pure rage.
You weren’t one to criticize people’s maturity (it’s not like your Vox wasn’t quite the man-child at times), but you hated the way Valentino tended to pounce at first signs of anything. His short temperament sort of pissed you off. Or maybe it wasn’t his temperament that ticked you, it was probably the attention Vox gave it. You proceeded to listen to their conversation, Valentino complaining about another one of his employees… Typical of him. It didn’t surprise you it was Angel Dust who he was bitching about. He always bitched about his star employee.
And you could tell Vox was uninterested, observing him text on his phone as Val ranted. Funny enough he was texting you. You found it so cute how perfect his grammar was over text. He loved to portray himself as refined and superior in every aspect.
Val’s rambling again
What do you wanna get for dinner?
I was thinking, maybe… Chinese?
What do you think, Doll?
After which, a phrase Val said caught his attention and he indulged him with a response. Response which was met with more screams and whines from Valentino. And just as you were about to text Vox back with the answer to his question, you saw how Val took Vox’s phone and smashed it into the wall. You sighed in annoyance. You were about to switch off their conversation until you heard Valentino say where Angel Dust was…
He was living with Lucifer’s daughter? Angel Dust living with Princess Charlie? This only meant he could be in one place, that hotel you heard her announce. Valentino rambled about going there and killing everyone there, which Vox immediately shut down. It was his perpetual situation. He always had to put Valentino in his place, reminding him that his delusions were not to be acted upon.
He always talked to Valentino like he was a child. He did the same to you too, but it was more loving… You were sure. When he spoke to Valentino that way, it was more condescending. You liked to hear that even Vox thought this was stupid. Either that, or he was using his TV Show Host Voice to get through to him. You huffed at the sight of Vox lighting a cigarette for Val, listening to what they were talking about again. Since you’d zoned out while mentally criticizing Val.
“You know…~ Angel isn’t the only one spending time at this ratty hotel with the devil’s Princesa~...” Valentino cooed, turning back to Vox who was messing around with some of Vaelintino’s things.
“Oh? Who else is in there? Someone who… owes you money?” Vox replied, as uninterested as before, but still attempting to put up a facade for his fellow Vee.
Valentino laughed at his response, “Someone who owes us much more than money~...” He chuckled, shaking the ashes off his cig.
Vox lifted a brow, pretending to care. But he was about to care about what Valentino had to say, very soon.
“The Radio Demon is there…~” Valentino cooed.
Vox’s demeanor switched in a millisecond. The mere name sent shivers down his spine, his hypnotic eye bulging on his screen as he dug his claws into the nearest piece of furniture. He began to crackle with electricity, his voice was low and extremely reverbed. "W̵h̵a̷t̸ ̴d̴i̵d̸ ̷y̶o̷u̷ ̷j̵u̵s̶t̶ ̷s̴a̴y̷.̵.̷.̵?̶ ” He muttered, turning slowly to Valentino.
You could see something in him change. It was a bit scary in all honestly, you knew Vox to be one to put up masks, but this one… it was one you didn't even know he had up.
“Oh, you heard me~.” Valentino replied, grinning back at him.
“Alastor… came back and he is with Lucifer’s d̶a̸u̶g̸h̴t̴e̵r̶ … and that wasn’t the F̷I̷R̷S̴T̴ ̵ F̷̺̕Ủ̷̺C̵͕̕K̵̟̚Ị̵̉N̸̺̂G̸͖̍ ̵͔̽T̷͍͊H̸̫͘I̸͇̒N̴̪͘G̵͙̿ ̸̦͠Y̵̜̎Ọ̴̍U̶̫̎ ̸̪͘T̴͓̕O̸̙̎L̵̼̓D̴̛̥ ̶͊͜M̷̮̆Ē̷̫?̴̧̆!̶͎̕ ” Vox roared, grabbing Valentino by the collar.
The taller demon brushed this gesture off, walking away from him, “Hey~ Killing Alastor is your kink~!” Val chuckled, sitting on a countertop near some monitors.
Without wasting a second, Vox zapped towards the little surveillance Valentino had in his room. You could barely see what was on that screen, but it was enough for you to be able to tell that The Radio Demon was in that footage. You watched the way Vox observed him. It was obsessive, so attentive and careful. It… it made you a tiny bit jealous, in all honesty. For the past seven years, he’d only looked at you that way, or rather, he’d never looked at you that way and to that extent at all.
You observed Vox mutter about Alastor, (ignoring Valentino’s complaints about Angel Dust) he was buzzing and crackling like crazy. Was he livid? Excited? You just couldn’t tell. But you didn’t have much time to think, because, in the blink of an eye, Vox wrapped his conversation up with Val and zapped his way out of his tower.
After which, you heard the doors to the room you were in open up. You got up, seeing Vox approach you. You tried to speak to him, but he shoved you to the side. “Not now Y/n. Go upstairs.” He commanded.
Sitting in his chair, he pressed a button, connecting himself to the machine before him. He was getting ready to broadcast.
His behavior took you aback. You couldn’t believe he’d done this to you. But what else could you do? He’d ignored you.
So you went up the elevator, observing his display via television.
He was losing his fucking mind. Spiraling. You’d never seen Vox like this. And yet, one would think he’d be pissed by this new discovery… but he was… genuinely smiling… you’d never seen him this happy.
Shit got interesting when Alastor responded, however, beginning his radio broadcast. Of course, Vox broadcasted this on the channel too with the intention of beating Alastor on air. A mistake he was sure to pay for. You watched Alastor tear him to bits, hearing even that Vox had asked Alastor to be a Vee and him rejecting the offer as the reason for their rivalry.
And then it clicked… Vox saw Alastor as his main priority. And if what Alastor said was true… Vox’s approach to this refusal was “If I can’t have him, I must destroy him.” Of course, you weren’t allowed to ponder on this much, since Vox began to glitch.
He was losing his patience, spiraling more and more, threatening Alastor until he caused a blackout and ending his broadcast.
Over the darkness of the room you were in, in the distance, you could hear the ominously menacing voice of Alastor as he warned Vox that the time of his reign was over… you could imagine what this made Vox feel. He’d essentially lost the argument by losing his composure.
Alas, you were sure you could try to find him downstairs. He confided in you, you were sure about this. So after a huge blow to his ego such as this, you had to go to him and console him. So you made your way back to his surveillance/broadcast room. You opened the doors to see him crouched down over a screen. He swiped through the footage of everyone in the Bee district speaking. “Where is he? Where is he broadcasting from?” he cried out, switching from screen to screen, checking every camera on every sector on the Pentagram. “He put a fucking tower in that hotel?!” he raged.
“Vox…” You mumbled softly, approaching him.
“Not now.” He blurted bluntly. “Ughh… I need to meet with the other two… Alastor’s return brings in a new set of problems.” He chuckled. And while he tried to sound as annoyed as possible, you couldn’t help but see that light in his eyes. One you didn’t even know was missing. He was obviously enjoying himself, but why? Why was he this excited?
“Don’t overexert yourself, ok?” You suggested, trying to look out for him.
“Don’t overexert myself? Alastor is fucking back! I’m not sleeping until this fucker is taken down!” He spat back, walking off.
You let him be, it seemed to be important. But as days went by, he began to spend less time with you to the point in which he began to ignore you. He’d shove you to the side to spend his day obsessing over sabotaging Alastor. Days passed and he shut you out, completely cutting you off in order to spend more time feeding his obsession. You couldn’t stand this, you had to tell him to turn your way.
So you went to his broadcast/surveillance room, observing the way he peered over his screens. Spreading rumors and lies about Alastor in order to smear his image. He muttered as if he was spiraling, speaking things that sounded like gibberish when paired with the sound of his revered and staticized voice.
“Vox…” You spoke, trying to catch his attention.
“W̶̥͗H̸̠͒A̵̳̓T̵̩̏?̷̲̕!̵͎̓” Box yelled, turning to you in annoyance.
“I need to talk to you.” You spoke, a bit taken aback by his reaction to you speaking to him.
“I’m too busy for that. Another day, sweetheart.” He spoke, shrugging you off.
“No, another day will not do. I want to speak now.” You demanded.
“Now’s not the time to be a brat. I’m busy and that’s final.” Vox huffed, attempting to get you to leave.
“Why are you ignoring me?! Ever since Alastor came back, you haven’t even said more than three sentences to me! Am I not important to you?” You cried out, getting all up in his face. If he refused to acknowledge you, you were going to make it impossible for him to do so.
“Hey hey hey! I’m busy! Go bother someone else, this is important!” He protested, pushing you away from him.
“You’re not listening to me!! Am I not important!?” You screamed, shoving his arms away from you.
“Alastor is important to me right now! Does that answer your question?!” He yelled back, turning away from you to do as he had before.
You stood there in shock, he’d essentially told you that you weren’t important to him. What was truly important to him was Alastor and the sabotage of his power. So you walked off, running away from him.
Vox did not realize what he’d done. He was too obsessed and preoccupied with his own obsessions that he didn’t seem to notice that he’d driven you away…
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kaidatheghostdragon · 14 days
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"You must be Ra's," Tucker stated, careful to keep on a poker face while he frantically assessed the situation - tied down to a chair, in what was probably the heart of this particular fruitloop's lair.
And there was a frankly disturbing number of similarities to the OG fruitloop: the way he stood, the style of his hair, the perpetual sneer.
The way he sent a shiver down Tucker's spine like Vlad used to be able to way back when he was still intimidating.
"Gotta say," Tucker continued, shoving his emotions down like only a human-born liminal that dealt with empathic rogues on the daily could ever manage, "not that impressed. For starters, your vibes are rancid, dude. Like, what do you do, bathe in corruption all day?"
That earned him a slap on the face, "You will speak when spoken to," Ra's ordered.
Tucker witheld a smirk. This guy seemed like the type to order subordinates around to do absolutely everything. The fact that he personally slapped Tucker with his own hand? It could only mean that Tucker was already under the guy's skin.
"Well, that just means I can keep talking since you just spoke to me," Tucker retorted, unafraid of another slap. Really, compared to the abuse he put himself through helping Danny, and the way his liminality skyrocketed in the last couple of years, it was barely even a love-tap. It didn't even sting.
Ra's raised a brow, giving the distinct impression that he was absolutely livid, though that may have been the liminal empathy cluing Tucker in. He'd never been great at reading emotions until that particular ability developed.
"Who do you work for?" Ra's began the interrogation.
Tucker returned with his best affronted glare, "Frankly, I'm offended that you don't believe I could do all this entirely on my own."
"Kill him," Ra's stated as he turned to leave, sounding so unimpressed that it almost seemed bored.
Out of the shadows, an arrow flew straight at Tucker, who slipped his restraints (thank you liminality for giving him limited ghost powers) and caught the arrow before it pierced his chest, "Yeah, no. Imma veto that."
Ra's turned back around, looking almost impressed.
It made Tucker feel way slimier than Vlad could ever hope to achieve. He repressed a shudder. After all, his job here was to keep Ra's distracted while the others invisibly raided the place, destroyed the pits, and planted explosives.
Tucker, being the technopath, would normally stay behind in the chair, but the League of Assassins was well defended against cyber attacks, forcing them to pivot somewhat in order to successfully infiltrate the place. He ended up creating a digital duplicate of himself (a literal duplicate, like Danny could do, but Tucker's duplicate could only ever exist inside of a computer, by all appearances a true AI) that the others could upload to the servers once they found them.
Beyond that, there wasn't much Tucker could do beyond providing a distraction. Sure, the LoA's technology was absolutely worth drooling over, but they didn't rely on it like most of the modern world did. There was no internet connection, electronic locks, or surveillance for Tucker to hack into and make his own. This place was all stone doors and medieval fortifications.
"Impressive," Ra's complimented after a moment of silent appraisal, "perhaps you are worthy of my attention after all."
Tucker scoffed, getting the clear impression that this guy fully expected the ground he walked on to be worshipped after admitting such small praise, "You're not the first megalomaniac I've had to deal with, and you won't be the last." (Team Phantom had an entire list of fruitloops to work through once their LoA financial backing was removed, after all) "I'll give you props for the sweet ninja cult you got going on, though. Gotta say, that's a first for me."
"Assassins," Ra's corrected.
"Same diff," Tucker retorted with a handwave, knowing full well that a guy like Ra's would be miffed by such a dismissal. He further feigned disinterest by examining the arrow he was still holding. Tucker had taken a few archery lessons when he was younger and picked it back up by training a bit under Princess Dora's royal guard. He was... decent, with a bow. He could reliably hit his target as long as he had a couple of seconds to aim - or used something laced in technology that allowed his technopathy to steady it.
The arrow was expertly crafted and perfectly balanced. His heightened liminal senses smelled a substance on the arrowhead - probably a paralytic, not that it would have kept Tucker down for very long, even if it had breached his heart, which would have been a quick death for any baseline human. He tossed it from hand to hand a few times, feeling the weight, the threw it like a dart into one of the nearest shadows. A soft thud echoed through the room when the arrowhead bonked the chestplate of the assassin standing there, then a clatter when it fell to the ground.
"If I had a bow, he'd be dead," Tucker needlessly commented, thumb pointing to the hidden guard. He was somewhat surprised the dude didn't catch the arrow like Tucker had. But then again, if the shadows were meant to fully conceal him, catching the arrow would have given him away from the arrow not making noise or falling to the ground.
"You knew he was there," Ra's stated more than asked.
"And the eleven others," Tucker easily replied, "A full dozen to guard the King of the Cult. Not that it'll make any difference. I've already won."
Tucker didn't have any misconcieved notion that his liminality would give him an edge over a dozen trained assassins. It doesn't really matter how good your senses are or how fast your reflexes when you have to dodge a dozen attacks simultaneously. But what he could do was turn intangible during those first few seconds of adrenaline-fueled panic, more than long enough for either of the Phantoms, neither of which were currently more than a few hundred yards distant, to reach him and drag him away from immediate danger.
So Tucker latched onto that confidence borne of complete trust in his team, and radiated it as much as he could, daring Ra's to call his bluff with nothing more than a knowing smirk.
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luciferlightbringer · 7 months
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Love in a Hopeless Place
Chapter 8
Buckle up, kids
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Chapter 7|Chapter 8|Chapter 9|Updated through Chapter 12
Lucifer x prostitute fem!reader Word Count: 4.9k CW: Slowburn, Angst,Prostitution, Hurt/comfort, trauma, fluff, cuddles, depression, anxiety, Sexual fantasizing, insecurity, alcohol/intoxication
Days turned to weeks, weeks turned into a couple of months as your relationship with each other and with the hotel crew continued to grow. It was nice not to have to worry about the "end of the world" clouding the dynamic, but both of you felt a little differently about the current progression of things.
Lucifer loved getting to give more energy to caring about you and Charlie, creating and feeling like he was himself again. The dynamic he had with you ended in more nights of chilling, doing not much of anything other than being with each other. He had attempted slipping in some more cute pet-names into the conversation with you, just to see how you would react, and you seemed fine with it, like everything he did. He kept ending up in the same spot when it came to figuring out how to tell you about his true feelings. His fear of being turned down was intense, but he was more worried about doing something to lose you completely. He logically knew that was silly, but he was so scared to return to the sad disconnected person he was before he met you.
You, on the other hand, were a little scared because of the simplicity and calmness of your time now together. You hade never experienced this in your living life, or hell, so it made you really uncomfortable. He had started calling you things like "Apple" and "Duckie" which you liked, but he was more focused on you and your needs, there was less for you to do. Was he trying to model more of what he needed from you? But then, when you tried to care give for him, he would tell you to just let him care for you. Was he getting bored of you? Were your days together numbered? Would he soon be ok enough to not need you anymore?
Ughh... and why did you care so much? You had numerous other clients drop off during your time with Lucifer, and you had not given them a second thought. Why was this so different? Had you become too attached? Well you definitely had... but why? What was it about Lucifer that had you clawing to make sure he still needed you around? Was it the connection to the hotel? That had definitely made it stronger, but you knew this feeling had lasted before you started visiting the hotel.
The hotel issues was another matter, Charlie had been trying you get you to move in for weeks, and you kept telling her that you needed more time to prepare. You hated lying to her, but you were worried about how that might complicate the relationship with Lucifer, and of course you could not tell her about the dynamic. You would hate for something to happen between you two and then have Charlie caught in the middle, or feeling like it was you or him. She had that enough between Lucifer and Lilith, she did not want to do that to you again. You wanted Charlie to remain fully on Lucifer's side no matter what happened.
You wished you could talk to someone, anyone, about what was going on, but you couldn't, and that drove you mad.
______________________________________________________________
One particular day, it was time for Lucifer to go off to another Sins meeting. Lucifer went off with to his meeting, blitzed through it with a lot more honest vigor and energy than the last meeting, was able to deal with Mammon's complaining, and got it all wrapped up in no time at all.
At the end, Asmodeus waited for the room to clear out before trying to chat with Lucifer again.
"Well, now, someone is in much better spirits from last time~" Asmodeus said wiggling his eyebrows and chuckling.
Lucifer waved his hand, "Oh, ppsssh, golly, is it that noticable? Well, you know, I just got some good advice from a friend, got my confidence and my daughter back, and I'm the happiest I've been in decades. It's not a big deal."
Asmodeus shimmied his shoulders with joy, "Ahh! I am just so happy for you. It's like I always say, there is nothing more healing than some good, earthshattering, dirty, mindless sex."
Lucifer froze, "Ya... a- about that... umm... there... uhh... there hasn't been any sex."
Ozzie paused and cocked an eyebrow at you, "Say what now?"
Lucifer ran some figures through his hair, "Well... t-there almost was! But... then I had a liiiiittle panic attack, she helped me through it and was so amazing about it, I cried myself to sleep in her arms, it helped me sleep and feel better, and then I've basically been falling asleep in her arms every night since..." He ended with a nervous smile.
Asmodeus blinked, and put his hands on his hips, "You fell in love with her, didn't you?"
Lucifer's eyes went wide, "Whaaaaa... no... pffft. You're silly Ozzie, me falling in love with a prostitute? That's... that's" Lucifer looked at Ozzie, holding his stance, cocking an eyebrow. Lucifer deflated, "That's... exactly what happened..."
Asmodeus chuckled looked around before looking back at him, "You wanna know a secret?" Lucifer looked up at Ozzie, Ozzie smiled and leaned in, "You aren't the only one who has fallen for a fling."
Lucifer stared at Ozzie, had the Sin of LUST fallen in LOVE. "Whaa.."
Ozzie help up a hand, "But. no questions right now, we are focused on you. So... you dating her now?"
Lucifer rubbed his neck, "Not exactly... we are together all of the time, but I haven't been able to figure out how to tell her. I'm scared that I'm just another client to her... and that the minute I'm open about this, the fantasy that I have been living in will disappear around me."
Ozzie shrugged, "Well... it might," Lucifer deflated, "butttt... it might also be an open door into the happily ever after that is the rest of your life! You can't let that fear get in the way. Look at what your daughter managed to do with her hotel, look at what you did with reconnecting with her! The risk was all there too, and look how those turned out!"
Lucifer thought, Ozzie was right, he just needed to figure out how to tell you. "Ok... any thoughts on how I should tell her, oh master of Love?"
Ozzie laughed and put a hand on Lucifer's shoulder, "Don't overcomplicate it, just treat it like any other night, adding crazy stuff might make her nervous. Be yourself, be open and honest. If all goes well, she feels the same way and your first real date together can be where you pull out all of your creative, romantic magic."
Lucifer nodded, "Ok... ugh... I'm just still so nervous."
Ozzie shrugged, "Nothing wrong with a glass of wine or two to calm the nerves. You can do this Luc, nothing the King of Hell can't handle." Ozzie started to walk out the door, then stopped, "Go get that girl man."
Lucifer gave a confident nod and teleported himself home. He looked at the clock, he only had.... several hours until you would be over. Ugh, this was going to be a long afternoon. He looked over at his bar, just one glass couldn't hurt? He would be good long before he had to go get you.
Well... Lucifer underestimated how nervous he was, one glass became two, two became four, and by the time it was time for him to go pick up up, he was having a hard time even standing up without swaying. Lucifer looked down at his left hand, and remembered he still had it on. He quickly took it off and put it next to his bathroom sink, touched up his hair, pointing finger guns at himself in the mirror and get set up to go get you. It took him a couple of minutes to get the portal activated and popped in your room, a few minutes later than usual.
You had started to get a little nervous, he had never been late before, but it was ok, he was allowed to be late. That is when he stumbled through the portal and into your room, almost knocking into you.
"Oh! There you are! You are always so prompt, I got a little worried haha," you laughed, straightening him out.
He looked up you, and then he melted into a lovesick smile, "Haha, golly, I'm s-sorry Duckie, the portal was being dumb, haha." He slurred, "I'mmm here now, haha. You ready to go?"
You cocked your head to the side and smiled, "Haha ya, you ok, Luci?"
"Of course my darling!" he said, wrapping an arm around your waist, before tapping his cane on the floor a couple of times, grumbling, before popping back to the manor. Lucifer looked over his cane in one hand, the other arm still remaining around your waist mumbling something about his stupid cane before looking at you, his face melting into happiness again.
"I'll fix it laterrr, hi theree, how are you? You look great todayy," he said hugging you and snuggling into you. You hesitantly hugged him back, you weren't convinced that something happened that day, he was being... more affectionate but... in a weird way. Was... was he drunk?
"Uh... ya I'm good. Busy day of clients, nothing crazy. What about you? Are you sure you are ok? You seem... different today," you said carefully.
Lucifer had no idea how he was coming off, he didn't realize how drunk he was, he had forgotten about the last two drinks in all of his anxious spiraling. "Oh ya, today was great! Sins meeting, paperwork, all went by preeeeetty quickly. Oh hells! Guess what? I was talking to Asmodeus, sin of Lust, right? Dude got a boyfriend! Crazy right? Well... not that he is dating his hook-up, but that the Sin of Lust found love! Oh shit... I wasn't s'pposed to say that. Don't tell anyone, k?"
You nodded, smiling, "Oh ya, that is funny. Not everyday that mindless sex turns into something meaningful, right? Especially in Hell with a Sin like that? But of course, I didn't hear anything" You nodded.
'Oh fuck! That's not what I meant, ughhh that's not what I wanted her to get from that.' he thought.
"I mean! I love the Sins, they always surprise me with ways will people that you never thought they would," he said with a nervous smile.
You played a long with a nervous smile, you didn't know why he was being so nervous and not just telling you want was wrong. But if it was that bad, he would probably burst at some point and then you could be there to support him again. You hated when something was stressing him out, but it made you feel good to feel needed. So you would play along for the night and wait.
"Ya! I totally gotcha! Just like the sinners at Charlie's hotel, even the Sins are able to grow and change," you said with a sweet smile.
Lucifer smiled his love drunk smile, 'Good, fixed it, that was close. She is so beautiful and smart, I love how she words things sometimes.'
Other than Lucifer's apparent intoxication, and him sometimes sneaking off to grab another drink to keep up the buzz, your night was no different than it normally was with Lucifer only... more affectionate? You were really confused, because everything about his behavior was staying something was wrong or that he was hiding something, but other than that he was being very sweet, a little more touchy than usual, which you were fine with, he was allowed to touch you however he wanted of course.
Oh! Maybe that was it! Maybe he was wanting to try being more sexually intimate again and he was just so nervous because of the last time! You wanted to be careful because he was drunk, and you still felt that consent was important, but leaning deeper into his pets and soft touches was not an issue as you snuggled watching tv. At one point, you even placed a hand on his thigh, and he melted into your touch.
As true at that was, for Lucifer overall, that was not his goal for the night. There were so many moments when he thought about just saying that he wanted to talk about his feelings, telling you how much he loved you and wanted you to be part of his life, outside of hiring you, and he wanted to know how you felt. But the stupid words just would not come, and all he could do was compliment you and touch you, playing with your hair and stroking your soft skin. He felt you start to lean more into his touch, and even putting your hand on his leg, ugh, he was going to die.
Eventually, Lucifer had wasted enough time and it was finally time to go to bed. As you two were getting ready for bed, he kept repeating in his head 'JUST FUCKING SAY SOMETHING, ANYTHING! YOU NEED TO TELL HER OR ELSE YOU ARE GOING TO LOSE YOUR FUCKING MIND!'
You had gone into his bathroom to wash your face, and you noticed the ring sitting on the side of the sink. Huh, weird, had Lucifer not been wearing his ring all day? Or did he just usually take it off at night and you only just now noticed? You shrugged, and walked to the bed to get ready for bedtime. You got under the covers and waiting for Lucifer, who was still sitting on the side of the bed staring out.
You were about to reach over to touch his arm and ask if everything was alright, but at that moment, Lucifer snapped. He looked at you, eyes full of desire, and jumped on top of you, pinning you to the bed under him. He just stared down at you, breathing heavily. This both excited and frightened you a little, this wasn't like him.
"Lucifer, what is goin-" you started.
"I love you!" he finally spat out. "I love you and I want you!"
You eyes went wide as you stared up at him.
WHAT.
No, you must have misheard. He... loves you? But you were a nothing? A nobody? Sure you had helped him but... wait, was this a roleplay? Or was this real? Did he actually mean "love" like lust, or like Capital L Love? You ran through every single element of your relationship with Lucifer that both supported and refuted his statement in mere seconds, fact and opinion, memories that you couldn't remember if you were now twisting to validate something more romantic of him than it actually was. Things hotel people had said, the way he had cared for or protected you. Was that actually because he loved you, or did he just want to protect his financial investment? Was this a sick joke?
Lucifer loomed above you, waiting for you response, looking like a tiger ready to pounce on his prey. God he looked so hot, you wanted him to just sink himself into you. No! Stop. You couldn't think quick enough. What should you do? Do you play into it and risk being wrong about what he means here, or do you reject him and wait until he is sober to talk through this with him? If this was a normal person, you would take the risk, but with him... You think about the man now suffering in an eternal loop of torture, you think about the ring on the sink that tied him still to Lilith, you think about how small and insignificant you were in comparison to this beautiful angelic being above you.
No. As much at it hurt, you could not risk reading this situation wrong.
Lucifer had started to lean down to try to kiss you, when you shouted, "No!" and pushed him off of you. In Lucifer's intoxicated state, he was slow to respond, so you were able to easily able to put him off of you before jumping out of bed, tears already streaming down your face.
'No?' he thought, 'What did she mean "no"'?' he thought. Lucifer sat up and looked at you staring at him, heavily breathing and crying. What had he done?
"I... I'm sorry... I don't... I have to think... I don't... I don't want to be wrong, or hurt you, I don't know what to do, what is the right thing t-to do," you choked through tears.
Lucifer started to reach out to you, "Wait... Duckie..."
"No... Lucifer," you started grabbing your stuff to go, "I'm sorry, I need to think about this... I can't do this while you are so drunk... I'll see you later, ok?" You ran out of Lucifer's room, down the long hallway, and out of the manor. You weren't going to even try the driver, you didn't want Lucifer to have the chance to stop you. You would run all the way back home.
"Duckie... (y/n)..." he said before sinking into his bed.
What had he just done?
_____________________________________________________________
You would run for a long time, crying all the way, not caring who saw you, until you got all the way home. You busted into the Lounge, trying to run through up to your room. But guess who stopped you in your path? Cynthhhhia.
"What's the matter crybaby? That big money daddy of yoursssss not give you a big enough tip tonight so you ran home crying?" she snarled at you, grabbing your arm.
"Fuck off Cynthhhhia, just leave me alone!" you said trying to pull you arm out of her grasp, and in retaliation Cynthhhhia instead wrapped her tail around your leg and then let your arm go, making you fall on your face. The patrons and girls in the rooms gasped, this was humiliating.
"How about you make me, bitch! Ya know, I'm sssssso ssssssick of you being Larry'sssss favorite and getting all the good clientssss, while I get jack shit! It's time you learned a lessssson, you ungrateful little bi-"
"Cynthhhhia! That is enough out of you!' Larry screamed. The room parted between him and you both. "Drop her now, and get over here. Gemma, go check on (y/n), will ya?"
Cynthhhhia huffs and lets you go aggressively, and makes her way over to Larry as one of your Lounge friends, Gemma, came over and checked on you. You told her that you just wanted to go to your room, Gemma helped pick you up and half-carried you up to you room while Larry chewed out Cynthhhhia.
"What in the nine circles is wrong with you?! I have had to talk to you about your behavior with customers so fucking many times, now assaulting another girl?! I wanna hear what makes you think this behavior is ok? I don't care if we are in hell, I am not having any fucking cat-fights in here, and you know that!" Larry scolded Cynthhhhia.
"Wha- I... Ugh! Why does she get all the good clientssss! You are clearly playing favoritessss or she is tipping you off or something. I am not getting paid nearly what I was sssssince she showed up. Why am I not getting any high rollersssss?!" Cynthhhhia snarled.
"Well maybe if you put as much energy into your clients as you do going after girls like her, maybe you would have people who wanted to utilize your services. You do not seem to understand the fact that I am not giving you to high rollers because you are turning customers away with your behavior, or they are asking not to work with you anymore!" Larry yelled.
Cynthhhhia gasped, and looked around the room to see other girls and patrons laughing at her, "That's not true!"
"Like it or not, Cynthhh, that is the reality. And since you still don't seem to be getting it, I'm going to give you one more chance to redeem yourself, and if you fuck it up, you are out do you hear me?" Larry said pointedly.
Cynthhhhia tipped her head down in defeat, "Fine, what is it?"
Larry moved to meet her gaze, "Three days, on the phones scheduling appointments for the other girls, no tips."
"But-" Cynthhhhia started.
"It's the phones or you're out, got a problem with that?" Larry glared.
Cynthhhhia pouted, "No sssssir..."
"Good, now, off the floor with you, you are done for the night, I will see you down here at 10 am sharp," Larry then turned and headed to go up the stairs to the apartments.
You had made it upstairs with Gemma, she had asked if you wanted her to stay, but you said no. You just wanted to be alone. Several minutes later, you would be a knock on the door and a "Babydoll? It's Larry."
You sniffled and sat up, "Come in."
Larry opened the door and sighed, "God she is a right bitch, I don't know why I keep her around at this point. Now, what happened?" he closed the door behind him, "I'm not used to you having any issues with Lance."
"It... I don't even know how to explain. He was kinda drunk, he wasn't acting like himself, he didn't hurt me, but he told me something and... because he was intoxicated... I didn't know how to react. He's... got a fair amount of influence... I worried what would happen if I misunderstood the situation. So I panicked, I ran. I'm sorry if he called to complain or anything." You said looking down, covering your face with your hands.
Larry thought for a minute, "Rough situation, intoxicated clients can make things hard. Most wouldn't care, but you have been working with him for a while, it made sense that you would want to stay in good standing with him and not want to fuck that up. Are you worried about future actions? Do you need me to put him on you "No Kiss List"?"
"No, no. Nothing like that..." you sigh and run your fingers through your hair, "I just... I think I just need some time to think... would I possibly be able to take some time off?"
Larry scratched his chin, "Well... I don't know, Babydoll. I could do a day or two, but much past that... I need you, you bring in a lot of money..."
You sighed, "Give me two days and I'll pay for two more of my own days time? That sound fair?"
Larry thought for a moment, "Deal. What do you want me to tell your regulars?"
You sighed, "Just tell them I'm going on a quick rejuvenating vacation, and that their girl will be back for them before they know it." It will worry Lucifer, but you needed the space, you didn't want to say or do anything to fuck up the relationship any more than it already had by you running from him that night.
"Can do." You give Larry the payment for two days on your own time and he leaves your room. "Take care of yourself, babydoll," he says closing the door. You are alone again.
You take your phone out, scroll for a bit before finding a hotel and a ride to the other side of the Pentagram from both the Lounge and Lucifer for the morning, and booked them for as early as possible. You just needed some time away to figure out what to do and to figure out how you were going to respond to Lucifer.
You tried to fall asleep that night, but sleep never came. You spent the rest of the night replaying the situation in your head. Did he really mean it? That he loved you? Did he actually care about you and want you in his life? Or was it all a trick? Why would he say that to you?
The next morning, you packed up, got in your cab and disappeared on your 4 day escape to other side of the Pride RIng, hoping that when you returned, you would have the answers.
______________________________________________________________
That same morning, Lucifer would wake up with a light headache, crumpled in a weird position on his bed. Where were you? Why was he sleeping so weird? The previous night was fuzzy, damn, he had overdone it on the alcohol... Had you just left? That was not like you. What happened?
He got up, put on a robe, and started to walk around the manor, looking for anything that might jog his memory of what happened the night before. Everything looked normal, and all he could remember was the conversation with Ozzie, being a little tipsy getting you, and feeling nervous. The later into the night he thought, the fuzzier everything got. He ended up back in his bedroom for hours racking his brain. He wished he had a way to contact you, to ask you want happened, and you try to figure it out with you.
A while later his cellphone started to ring, he looked at the number and his groggy eyes went wide, it was the Lounge. This was the first time that the Lounge had called him. He picked up the phone and put on his "Lance" voice.
"Uh, hello! This is Lance, what can I do for you?" Lucifer said in a deeper and huskier voice.
"Yes, hello, this Luxurious Lady's Lounge, how are you doing thissss afternoon?" Said Cynthhhhia as pleasantly as she could over the phone. She had done well playing nice on the phone all morning, so now Larry was leaving her to call all of your cancelations for the next 4 days.
"Oh you know, just living the dream!" Lucifer responded. Christ... why did he say that?
"That issss wonderful to hear. We jussssst wanted to let you know that your next appointment for tomorrow evening with (y/n) will be canceled. She will out of town for a little bit," Cynthhhhia said through a fake smile.
Lucifer felt a sense of dread go through his body, 'Out of office? So suddenly?' "Oh! Well thank you for letting me know, I hope she is alright, she is quite a gem, haha."
Cynthhhhia's jaw tightened, "Oh yessss, she just needed to essssscape on a quick rejuvenating vacation." Cynthhhhia looked around to see if Larry was around, he was nowhere, and the office was pretty empty, she smiled, "... Isssss what they want me to tell you, but I don't want to lie to a man like you, Mr. Lanccccce."
Lucifer's heart beat fast in his chest, "Haha, what do you mean?"
"The truth of the matter isssss... you've been put on (y/n)'s "No Kisssss List".... basssssically a ban from being able to work with her," Cynthhhhia said with a wicked smile.
Lucifer froze on the other side of the phone. Banned. She banned you. Months of joy and beauty between you two, severed in an instant. Lucifer felt like he couldn't breathe.
"I'm ssssso ssssorry to break the newssss to you like thissss. She just came back from a.... recent interaction telling usssss she... oh what was it, "Couldn't handle the bullshit anymore" isssss I think how she put it. But we have plenty of other ladiesssss that would be willing to take her sssspot if you'd like," Cynthhhhia continued, looking around for Larry again, still nothing, good.
"That's... disappointing to hear. I thought we had a good connection," Lucifer said flatly into the phone.
"Oh she issss really good at that, a good little actressssss but honessssstly a bit prissssssy and shallow under it all, trussssst me, I'm around her all the time. A real heartbreak, I ssssswear, I bet she would even break the King'sssss heart if she had a chance," Cynthhhia said laughing.
Lucifer saw red with that comment, 'What did she mean by that? Did you tell? Did they actually know it was me? Was that just a figure of speech?' His name got thrown around a lot, so he had no idea in this moment, it just felt really personal at that moment.
"I see, thank you for the information," Lucifer said before hanging up.
Cynthhhhia growled at the sound of the dead line, before putting down the phone, and making a note that "Lance" had been notified of a cancelation and would call back if he wanted to reschedule. Cynthhhhia then moved on to the next of you client's, feeling pleased with herself. If she couldn't have a a high roller, at least she could take out one of your big money daddies.
Lucifer laid back in his bed and tossed his phone over to the side. Everything he had feared happening had come true. Everything he had built with you was gone, and worse, maybe even a lie. He did not want to believe that what you had was a lie, but maybe he was just that stupid after all. He wanted to show up to your room and talk to you, but he couldn't. If he had hurt you or maybe you really were some shallow bitch... maybe this was for the best...
Lucifer crawled back in bed and stayed there for the rest of the day and into the night. He would respect your wishes.
Lucifer would never ask see you ever again.
______________________________________________________________
Can we see why I gave a warning on one last twist? I broke my own heart writing this. I'm so sorry. I promise it will end up ok in the end though for these two. xoxo, dany As usual, leave a comment if you want added to the taglist so that you can get notifications when future chapters drop! Taglist: @froggybich @wonderlandangelsposts @glowinthedarkbones1150 @marydragneell @crescent-z @superdinosaurnacho @jam0001 @kyo-kyo1 @so-get-this-sammy @lilzebeth @kelppsstuff @loquacious-libra @pinkhoneydrop @luleck @writer-girl99 @lavenz @stormz369 @littleladydemon @soujiswife @melday0105 @luluxx118 @sseleniaa @futureittomainn @cktkat @zaneyyyy @uravitsy @liecoris @starlitvenus @hannahrose130 @elleofdragons @butch-medusae @concentratedconcrete @erosamasan @stranger-chan @aquaamethyst96 @lxkeee @holyspacething @hulyenl @leximus98 @lu-ferri12 @mixplara @katnisspeetaprim
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thankskenpenders · 8 months
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Sonic Prime Season 3: Final episodes, final thoughts
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Well, here we are. The final seven episodes of Sonic Prime are out on Netflix, concluding the story of Sonic's adventures in the Shatterverse. I've previously shared my thoughts on the first and second seasons, which I was pretty mixed on, but there were still glimmers of hope. The fluid animation, Shadow being fun in all his appearances, Nine being fairly interesting as a jaded alternate version of Tails, etc. There was enough to make me believe that after some highs and lows there was still the possibility that this show could end on a high note - or at least a decent note.
This did not happen.
Sonic Prime's final season sucks. The ending sucks, and the road to get there sucks. It's left me wondering what the point of all this even was. There are still moments I like that I'll try to highlight, and the animators and voice cast are still clearly giving it their all, but these efforts sadly don't outweigh the overwhelming mediocrity of the story. I would barely even recommend other Sonic fans who are on the fence go out of their way to finish it. I won't begrudge people who got more out of this show than I did, but I think overall I just really, really dislike Sonic Prime.
...The problem, of course, is that all other discussion of the show has been overshadowed by needlessly hostile arguments over its place in Sonic's canon. So we've gotta talk about that, too.
(This post will contain full spoilers for Sonic Prime.)
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The show's out of ideas but they've gotta stretch that shit out to hit the 23 episode mark somehow
Season 2 ended with the big twist that Nine decided to betray Sonic and Shadow, taking the Paradox Prism for himself so that he could go turn the empty world of the Grim into his own little paradise, since he doesn't believe he'll fit anywhere else. Nine has made himself the true big bad of the show.
The main impact this has is that now, instead of fighting endless identical Eggforcer bots and members of the Chaos Council over and over, the good guys and the Chaos Council have to fight endless Chaos Sonic-style robots sent by Nine while he goes "grrrrr I need Sonic's energy to stabilize the Paradox Prism." This continues for six whole episodes until the series finale, when the show decides it's time for Sonic and Nine to quickly make amends, fix everything, and send Sonic and Shadow home.
That's pretty much the whole season.
I cannot emphasize enough just how much of this final season is just fight after fight after fight against Nine's bots, and how fucking boring that gets. The season feels like one long, drawn out final battle that did not need to be nearly this long, but Nine had his big heel turn 2/3 of the way through the show and we've gotta fill up the rest of the time somehow. The novelty of the bots being based off of Sonic's friends (including the Chocobo-sized Birdie from the jungle world) really wears off quickly when they're just used as generic, silent mooks that the good guys have to fight by the dozen like it's the climax of an MCU movie. The first episode of the season with Sonic and Shadow fighting the new bots is pretty good, especially because Sonic and Shadow's dynamic is one of the few redeeming aspects of this show's writing, but after that it just gets boring. Three full episodes in a row are spent showing all the characters fighting robots in an empty wasteland while Nine scowls next to a big beam of energy. I found myself missing the in-your-face attitude of Chaos Sonic so much. He truly was one of the best parts of this show.
While the cast is busy fighting all these robots for what feels like an eternity, various things of varying levels of interest happen. There's a halfhearted attempt to have some kind of rivalry between Shadow and the main Grim Sonic throughout the final battle, but it completely falls flat because Grim Sonic has no personality whatsoever. It's like Shadow beefing with an above-average Egg Pawn. (Actually, no, that would be funny.) There's also a death fakeout with the two other versions of Tails, where they make a makeshift bomb and throw it a little too close to themselves on the battlefield and seem to get vaporized. If they had actually died there they would have had the funniest, most pointless deaths in the entire franchise.
I also realized at one point that they were trying to do the Avengers girl power fight thing with the three versions of Amy fighting a bunch of Rouge bots. This was very funny to me. Actually, so much of this is just following the tired MCU formula to the letter. Fighting over a macguffin, two armies just kind of running at each other and clashing in a big empty field, constant one-liner quips instead of actual jokes, the need to take out key targets to make the whole enemy army disappear, a villain who has a point but has to randomly hurt people so that there's an excuse for the heroes to fight him. When combined with how shit the multiverse stuff is, this whole show really is just Man of Action tackling some of the most played out storytelling tropes in modern pop culture in the most bland way possible. What a bunch of hacks.
By far, the one truly fun thing that happens in this protracted final battle is when a giant robot based on Big appears. It doesn't have arms or legs, but it can swing itself around to use its tail like a giant mace, and it can also shoot Froggy-shaped missiles out of its mouth. I wish the rest of the show was even half as fun as this. Again, Sonic Prime has just enough good moments to make you mad that the rest of the show isn't better.
The thing is, all this repetitive (but well-animated) action and the thin excuse plot would be totally serviceable if I just gave a shit about the characters involved. But I don't. I don't care what happens to the pirate version of Amy who goes "arrr." I don't care about what happens to Hipster Eggman. And unfortunately, by the end, I didn't really care about Nine, either.
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Nine as a villain
It's hard to criticize the story here without it coming off as a broad condemnation of the tropes at play. The thing is, I like many stories that try to do similar things. I love clashes between heroes and villains that are really just fantastical exaggerations of more personal conflicts. I love stories where a tragic, sympathetic villain lashes out at the world as an expression of the pain they feel, and a compassionate hero just has to get through to them. I eat that shit right up. Undertale is my favorite game ever made. Shit, I love other Sonic stories that do these exact things. And Sonic having to fight an alternate timeline version of Tails also has so much potential for drama!
So I can very easily imagine a version of the show where all this works for me. That just isn't the version we got.
Like I said last time, Nine's motivation is just too sympathetic and understandable for his sudden turn to supervillainy to make any sense. He just wanted to start over somewhere where he can be happy after a childhood filled with bullying and loneliness. Nine betraying Sonic and stealing the Paradox Prism to go make his own world? That tracks! Especially since we don't even know if Nine will still exist if Sonic goes through with his plan to restore his original world! But trying to kill everyone in New Yolk City by tilting the world 90 degrees, intentionally targeting the civilian population because it'll get to Sonic? Nope! Sorry, that's a bridge too far. I don't buy it. He's jaded and antisocial, but he doesn't strike me as cruel. Writing in an excuse about him needing Sonic's energy to fix the Prism does not make this make more sense.
This was really just one of those conflicts where it felt like everyone should stop and talk it out. Instead we got six episodes of fighting before one of Sonic's many, MANY attempts at reasoning with Nine throughout the season finally works. This isn't me pulling some Cinema Sins bullshit where I complain about characters in a work of fiction not always behaving rationally - the real problem is that it's just so damn repetitive waiting for this conflict to resolve. This could have been wrapped up in two or three episodes and instead it takes seven.
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A brief aside about that weird Dorkly-ass Sonic Advance 3 flashback scene hacked together with mismatched sprites where Gemerl happens to be present, presumably just because he's a part of the sprite for the Sunset Hill boss, and seeing him briefly makes me remember the extended cast from the games and how much I wish they had just made a cartoon about them instead of a bunch of stock characters wearing the skin of Sonic's friends, but then Gemerl just explodes with the boss machine at the end while Eggman is shown to get away so I guess Gemerl just dies in this flashback
Yeah that sure happened huh
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The ending
Despite having a final battle that felt like an eternity, Sonic Prime is a show that just kind of... ends. And that ending is weird and haphazard.
The understanding I had was that Sonic's normal world had "shattered" when the Paradox Prism was destroyed, and from those remnants these new worlds were created. This is why they use terms like "Shatterverse" and "Shatterspaces" and why there's shattered glass/crystal/whatever imagery everywhere. This is a broken, fragmented version of the real universe. Right? Right?? Isn't that the entire premise of the show? And therefore, if the universe has been shattered, then fixing it means putting all the shattered pieces back together. Which I would assume means that the Shatterspaces cease to exist.
So, in the ending... Sonic's world seems to just exist as another Shatterspace. Restoring the Paradox Prism doesn't seem to combine the worlds or anything, it just fixes the broken portal to Sonic's world that exists alongside all the others. So... what exactly was the point of all the shattered glass symbolism?
Things only get more confusing as the ending progresses. Shadow brings Sonic through the portal before the draining of Sonic's whatever energy makes him disappear, and they're transported back in time to right before Sonic broke the Paradox Prism. Only Sonic seems to remember what happened (Shadow might remember, but he doesn't say anything), and with the Paradox Prism never shattered, it's unclear if the Shatterspaces exist now.
I'm not particularly hung up on the time loop ending. It's very much in line with all sorts of classic morality tales like A Christmas Carol or It's a Wonderful Life, where the flawed protagonist goes through some kind of magical experience and then returns home with a new appreciation for the people in their life. It's always been pretty obvious that was the type of story they were telling. I'm more bothered by the fact that there's no time whatsoever spent on whether or not the other worlds and the characters in them continue to exist. Sonic seems to act like the worlds will go on without him before he leaves, but it's not like we get an ending scene that shows how the other worlds are doing, so they really truly might as well not exist anymore. Sonic just wraps up the adventure from the first episode when he gets home, and before he can explain what happened from his perspective he's interrupted by a mysterious energy wave from off-screen and it's off to the next adventure.
(Despite this odd cliffhanger ending, the show is extremely over and not coming back. I have to imagine this is just a "the adventures never end" type ending and not a hint that more shit is going on with the Paradox Prism.)
This ending is also a terrible resolution to Nine's whole arc, despite him being the driving force of so much of the show. The way I see it, there are are three possible fates for him:
The Shatterspaces continue existing, and things go as Sonic expects them to go. Nine is allowed to make the Grim into his own little utopia, and everyone else leaves him alone instead of punishing him for all the trouble he caused. Instead of finding love and acceptance so he can heal from a lifetime of bullying and loneliness, Nine is allowed to run away, isolating himself from every other living being in the multiverse, and live alone as the god of an empty world with only his own creations as company. Sonic was his only friend, and he's gone forever now.
The Shatterspaces continue existing, but because of the time travel ending, most of the events of the show never happened. Sonic never helped defeat the Chaos Council, so they still control New Yolk City. Nine is back to living in this dystopian city with no friends. He never met Sonic.
The Shatterspaces have been erased. After fighting so hard for his right to exist as his own person and not just a "wrong" version of Tails, when the timeline is altered, he just... stops existing. Along with almost every other character in the show.
Do I even need to explain why these are all unsatisfying?
Misc. thoughts
I skimmed over this, but a lot of the final season is just spent seeing Sonic's friends bicker with the Chaos Council and then Sonic has to beg them to get along to save the universe. It gets old.
We also never really got an explanation for why the Chaos Council exists. They can't have come from other Shatterspaces because there ARE no other Shatterspaces. If the original Eggman was just split into five guys or time travel was involved or whatever, it never comes up. I can live with this, but it seems like an odd omission for a children's show that's constantly bogged down in technobabble explaining the mechanics of its extremely small and finite multiverse.
I have no idea where Shadow was for the first part of the final battle. I figured Nine must have captured him off-screen after Sonic first left the Grim, but Shadow was just... hanging around until his cue in the script, I guess?
Sonic saying "help a brother up" to Shadow was funny
Hipster Eggman pointing to one of the few nameless extras who tagged along for the final battle and going "Who are you? Seriously, does anyone know who this is?" was the only funny thing he did in the entire show
Mangy Tails randomly pressing buttons on the Chaos Council's generator like a curious animal and managing to improve its output was cute
Rusty Rose randomly realizes that the Birdie in her chest actually isn't being used as a power source, and that the Chaos Council was just... using that to manipulate her, somehow? I don't really know how that works but whatever
The Sonic Advance 3 flashback uses the actual boss music from the game, but they can't use the real Sunset Hill theme because they didn't wanna pay Masato Nakamura for using the Green Hill motif, I guess
To my fellow fans of bad games: did you know that Man of Action wrote the story for the bizarre Square Enix game The Quiet Man? The one where the lengthy FMV cutscenes play out with muffled audio and no subtitles because the protagonist is deaf, so you can't tell what's going on? And you had to do a New Game+ playthrough to actually hear the audio and understand what's going on? The worst-reviewed game of 2018? That one? I only learned that recently and it blew me away
So yeah, that's the end of the show. I didn't like it, and I don't think I liked the show much as a whole. I am far from alone in this sentiment, but the reasons why people dislike the show... those vary a bit.
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The canon conundrum
More than anything else, it seems like most other discourse surrounding this show has been consumed by one talking point:
How can this be canon? Why is it canon?
I want to state very clearly up front that I, too, am a person who's noticed and complained about the inconsistencies with the games in Sonic Prime. Some of the characters are a bit off - or, you know, completely unrecognizable when discussing the writing of some of the AU counterparts. I think it's lame to say Sonic and friends all live in Green Hill and act like that's the entirety of their world. That sort of thing. But if Sega says it's canon to everything else? Sure. Fine. There's weirder shit in the canon.
Really, most of this can be explained away pretty easily. The show was written at a time when Sega was still figuring shit out and there were looser restrictions. Why does Sonic act a little more immature? Probably just because Prime is aiming for a slightly younger audience than the games or the IDW comics. (And also it's, y'know, written by Man of Action, who people have accused of only knowing how to write one kind of protagonist for years.) Why do Sonic and friends live in Green Hill? Because that's the most recognizable location from the games, and the game world doesn't get enough screentime to justify modeling multiple different environments, so they just focus on Green Hill. Why is this considered canon to the games? Because this is the first Sonic cartoon that outright references events from the games as things that have happened to Sonic in the past.
But announcing early on that Prime would be canon certainly let fans' imaginations wander. It was one of the few things we knew about the show before it premiered. People wondered if characters from the games and comics who had never made any appearances in Sonic cartoons might get their time in the spotlight. We wondered if it would tie into the lore or any existing storylines in interesting ways, like the IDW comics do. But above all else, we hoped that its canon status would mean that Sonic Prime would finally be the Sonic cartoon that was faithful to the source material with no catches. We've literally never seen the actual world of the games brought to life in a TV show. Sonic X came the closest, but that still took its liberties. And so hype built for this Canon Sonic Cartoon.
And then it actually came out, and after a brief intro in Green Hill based loosely on the games, it spent most of its running time focusing on things like "what if there was a version of Eggman who was a bratty teen who just wanted to play video games?" The disappointment among fans is understandable. I am disappointed. Look at how much I've bitched about this aggressively mid cartoon.
Some fans, however, came up with an elaborate theory about the series. You see, when asked about the show's place in the game timeline during a live Q&A, Ian Flynn (who only served as a consultant on Sonic Prime and did not write any of it) said this:
"I cannot answer because I know the answer, and you haven't finished watching the show yet."
A couple days later, when answering another question about Prime's place in the timeline and also about a writing discrepancy, he said this:
"As to where it fits on the timeline, I can't speak to it because that would spoil the show to a degree. So you're just gonna have to wait 'til it's done. Towards the other point, I don't know how much I can say, so it's probably better that I not comment. That's a really dissatisfying answer, I know, I'm sorry, but my hands are kinda tied on that one."
I feel the need to quote Ian directly here, because these very basic statements about how he can't talk about behind the scenes shit or anything from unreleased episodes was GREATLY misinterpreted by the fandom. People clung onto Ian's claim that we had to keep watching like a life preserver. Some took it as Ian saying that the ending would explain everything. Finally, we'd have a definitive answer for every little discrepancy and the apparent differences in worldbuilding. An explanation for why Sega and the producers repeatedly insist this show HAS to be canon.
And to these fans, the only explanation that made any sense... would be if the ending of Sonic Prime pulled a Flashpoint.
As this theory explained, the Sonic we were following in Sonic Prime wasn't the Sonic we know from the games and the IDW comics, and likewise the world he comes from isn't really the game world. This is a different Sonic who fights a different Eggman in a world that's literally just Green Hill. It was a hint that something was off all along! But in the end of the series, this Sonic would sacrifice himself to merge all of the Shatter Spaces together and form a brand new world, and that would be the more visually diverse world of the games and comics. According to this theory, Sonic Prime was canon because it was a new origin story for the entire franchise.
I want you to really stop and think about how asinine of an origin story this would be. Really drink this in. The idea that there was another, slightly different version of Sonic who went on a kinda shitty multiverse adventure and then sacrificed himself to create the real Sonic that we've known since 1991. People convinced themselves this made more sense than the simple explanation that a different team of writers got some stuff wrong and Sega didn't make them change it. Interviews where producers talked about drawing on Sonic's "mythology" (ie: they reference the games in the show) were taken very literally - they must be saying that Prime's story is mythological in nature, and that this show would be integral to the games' mythology. Why bother making a show that's canon if it's not going to be crucial to that canon, after all?
The final episodes dropped, and none of this happened. Because of course it didn't. It was all Sherlock fandom-level copium. But fans were left confused by the lack of a grand reveal of where Sonic Prime fits in the timeline, believing they had been promised this, and they turned to Ian for an explanation. Ian's answer:
It doesn't matter, b/c Prime wipes itself out. It's sometime after Advance 3*, but otherwise, it's moot. I didn't want to sour anyone's expectations or investment by spoiling how Prime resolves, that's all. If you enjoyed it, awesome. Savor it. If you didn't, then you can safely ignore it. Simple as that.
* About a trillion people have um, actually'd Ian to point out Orbot and Cubot briefly appear in the show, but if we're really being pedantic here we don't actually know how long before Colors Eggman built Orbot and Cubot, so it wouldn't be fully accurate to say a story featuring Orbot and Cubot couldn't be set before Colors. Either way, a story set anywhere around Colors, or at any point later than that, could still be described as "sometime after Advance 3." Advance 3 is just the most recent game that has specific in-game events referenced in the show. Yes I can feel myself morphing into the nerd emoji before your very eyes
Anyway, this is the latest reason Ian is getting death threats on Twitter. This time it's over a show he barely even had any input on!
I'll cut to the chase. It is truly wild to me that people are getting this heated over canonical inconsistencies in a series as historically inconsistent as Sonic, to the point that they think threatening Ian is justified. The aesthetics of the entire world Sonic inhabits change every other game. Sonic Chronicles may no longer be canon due to the Penders lawsuits, but it was canon at one point, and it took huge liberties with Sonic's world, moving Green Hill off of South Island and reinterpreting Station Square as a tiny outpost in a snowy alpine forest region. Characters' personalities change from writer to writer and based on what Sega wants at the time, with some being WILDLY different across different games. One game Sonic will be stoic and cool, the next he thinks "Baldy McNosehair" is the funniest thing ever. Sega's STILL trying to figure out what Amy's personality is supposed to be. We still don't have the explanation for how the two seemingly contradictory backstories for Blaze can fit together. There have been multiple huge, sweeping retcons, and retcons to those retcons. Sonic Forces claims that Classic Sonic is from an entirely different universe than Modern Sonic, and the plot only makes any sense if that's true - otherwise, Modern Sonic would have already known Eggman was going to beat him and take over the world when he did, because his younger self had already lived through that war. All of that makes no sense in the newly reunified timeline, but Forces is very much still canon.
For fuck's sake, we're talking about the series where Eggman blew up half the moon and then it looked completely normal in every other game after, explained away as "the moon just rotated so we can't see the destroyed side from Earth." This has never, ever, ever been a franchise where everything lines up perfectly with no issues. It's not that serious.
The real core problem with Prime isn't that things don't line up 100% with our current understanding of canon, or that Sonic's characterization means this can't be the real Sonic, or anything like that. The problem, as I've been saying this whole time, is that the story is bad. None of these discrepancies would truly matter if the story was better. They'd just be nitpicks. The fact that Sonic and friends live in Green Hill would be the farthest thing from my mind if the drama was more engaging, if the villains were better, if the jokes were actually funny, if more of the alternate universe counterparts of Sonic's friends had more than one generic character trait each, if the multiverse was more creative and varied, if the final seven episodes of this show didn't devolve into the third act of an MCU movie and then just arbitrarily end, if Nine's character arc actually had a satisfying conclusion instead of ending with either isolation or nonexistence. Maybe we'd be seeing people talk about more than just whether or not it should be considered canon if the writing was any good.
"Canon" is not real, and it sure as hell isn't worth sending people death threats over. It's a storytelling tool. Real human beings decide what does and doesn't go into that canon, or how much they do or don't want to draw on past stories, when creating a new story. Serving that canon is secondary to creating a story where the emotional truth resonates with the audience. And Sonic Prime failed to do that. That is its true failing.
And finally, to close out...
Since people will ask, here are my current ranking of the Sonic TV shows, now that Prime is finished.
Sonic Boom
Sonic SatAM
Sonic X
The Adventures of Sonic the Hedgehog
Sonic Prime
Sonic Underground
Yes, I'd say Boom is my favorite. It's far from my ideal Sonic cartoon, but it gets a lot of points for being as funny as it is. But the top four are all shows I'd say I like, more or less. They all have their pros and cons.
So now, uh... I guess let's hope the live action Knuckles show coming to Paramount+ is better than the underwhelming synopsis of "Knuckles helps deputy sheriff Wade train in the ways of the echidna warrior" would imply? Maybe we'll get lucky?
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