#I WILL make more posts (threat) but I need to just sit in this for a bit
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clini-calia · 2 days ago
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It's tough. It is.
I'm a 30-year-old transgender man. From ages 16 to 23-ish, I was stuck in the alt-right pipeline, as well. I watched all that stupid bullshit with "feminists getting owned!!!1!" and what the fuck ever else. I think what pushed me towards it was how people on Tumblr used to be upset over EVERYTHING and would belittle me for my masculinity. I remember seeing a post that had a gif of a scene from some anime, I dunno which one, and it was of a naked girl laying down. People were complaining about her breasts not being realistic - it wasn't the size, it was that they weren't sagging or drooping, and that men need to be portrayed with rock hard dicks that never soften or whatever. But I was just sitting there thinking, "She's laying down... lol. Gravity is literally pushing her breasts against her chest, not pulling them down."
Anyway. Posts like that, but they got worse. I've had a lot of people on the left question my gender. "Why would you want to be a man? Women are the better choice." "I don't know why you'd want to do that, why give up your femininity?" I got into a small argument with a woman once on it, basically saying that it felt like trans men weren't really counted much and were largely ignored in the trans community, along with non binary people, who are usually just treated as "Women Lite." She got so angry that she told me, "You probably just wanna be a guy because you're too ugly to get one for yourself."
That's what tipped me over to the right for a bit. Until I realized they cared even less about me and that if given the chance, well. What happened on November 5th would happen, and they'd look for any excuse to strip me of my rights.
For cis, straight, white men it's not so easy to get out of. They're welcomed with open arms, there's no looming threat of having their rights taken away. So the pull of some "brotherhood" is more enticing. I was groomed and sexually assaulted by a man, but I was also sexually assaulted and groomed by a woman. I'll always believe that, no matter what, humans are just humans. White, black, gay, straight, trans, cis, man, woman - humans. And humans can be good, and they can also fucking suck. So I'll never say "all men are trash" or "all women are garbage" or anything like it ever again.
I see men's issues with mental health. I wish they would understand that it's the patriarchy that ultimately fuels those issues, and I wish some women would see how they also contribute to it. I see a lot of younger women these days placing men's entire values on their income, their careers, their appearances, what they can buy for them... I've seen a tweet of dudes just chilling and playing video games, showing off Pokemon cards or some shit and a woman quote retweeted it and said, "Men used to fight in wars. 🙄" Yeah. That'll stop toxic masculinity - tell men they're not real men unless they go to war and give up what makes them happy. Nice...
The patriarchy hurts women by enforcing the idea that they are to submit to men's wishes, stay at home, clean, cook, have babies. That's all women are allowed to experience.
The patriarchy hurts men by enforcing the idea that they are to overwork themselves, abandon any non traditional masculine interests and basic human emotions in favor of that work, and go to fight and possibly die in wars.
These ideals were put into place as soon as different tribes, races, countries and so on realized that, "Oh. There's OTHER types of people, and I want to be the most powerful and rich so they don't take what I have. Hmm. Better make sure women can only spit out plenty of babies and that plenty of those babies are men to be my soldiers and workforce."
If you're a man that supports any of those ideas, fuck you. If you're a woman that supports any of those ideas, fuck you, too. I'm sick and tired of generalizing people. I'm sick and tired of having to give up pieces of ourselves in order to put more money in billionaire's pockets. I'm sick and tired of men being told they're "too feminine" to be a man over being into stuff like sewing, baking, dolls, fashion, cozy games and I'm tired of seeing women being told they're "too masculine" to be a woman for being into coding, mechanical work, FPS games, science and I'm tired of seeing non binary people being told they're too much of one or the other to be non binary.
I'm tired of seeing men put down other men for having a fucking emotion other than anger or goddamn numbness. I'm tired of seeing women put down other women for being more attractive or not attractive enough. Just... stupid, petty bullshit that should have been over and done with decades ago, why the fuck are we STILL here?
It's tough. Because I love men and care deeply about men. But I also don't think we need to baby them and pat them on the back and say, "It's OK that you joined a fascist group of people that openly and proudly call themselves Nazis." And if a man ever tells me or any woman or AFAB person that it's "your body, my choice," I will grab the nearest blunt object I can get my hands on and beat the snot, shit, and blood out of them.
But I do think we need to work harder at not alienating our CIS, straight, white, male allies. We need to stop generalizing everybody and correct our language when talking about people. And we especially need to make it clear that the alt-right only seeks to divide for their own benefit, not for anyone else's. It's money and power that they want. Men, unless you are wealthy, you are just a vote and a pawn to them, nothing else. We need Democrats in the USA to stop rolling over and blowing kisses to Republicans in the hopes that they'll play nice and cut us some slack. It's not going to happen, not in meaningful numbers. And we NEED to crack down harder on alt-right online spaces. I don't give a fuck no more, get rid of that shit, I don't care if it's seen as too extreme or censorship, if you give these dangerous people a place to commune and feel safe with their harmful ideologies, then it WILL spill over into other spaces. And parents of young children: you need to BE BETTER at monitoring what your kids are seeing and doing online. Take it from someone who no-lifes online games: they are going into these spaces and saying heinous, horrible shit. They are being groomed, they are saying slurs and sexually harassing women, they are even seeking sexual attention and guidance from adults and strangers, and some of those adults are sick enough to take them up on their offers. One little trip into a few public instances of games like VRChat will be all the proof you need. I love the Internet, I really do, but I also see how its anonymity has done harm to us and has severely damaged how young people interact with each other, online and offline.
Anyway, sorry that was so long. I've been pissed the fuck off since I saw that Trump "won" the election and this shit has been on my mind for years, just even more so now.
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I couldn't have said it better myself.
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distant-screaming · 1 year ago
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Real image of me rn
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elizzsush · 5 months ago
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Future Child | Twisted Wonderland
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Malleus Draconia X Reader
----It wasn’t everyday you’d find a three year old running around campus causing a ruckus. Usually students wouldn’t have to deal with this, but with Crowley you had to deal with everything. Now… why is it when you catch this small trouble maker it calls you “momma”?
AUs: None Rating: SFW
Note: Hi, hi! So, basically, I wasn't going to finish this and posted it as a WIP and people really liked it. So, then I had no other choice but to finish it! And I hope you like it.
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Crowley in-listed you to help with the child problem around school. No, wait that sounded bad. A young fae no older than five got into night raven campus and has been running amok. Some students say he appeared out of thin air. So, obviously, you: the defenseless, Magic-less human with no knowledge of fae or even how some of these basics of this world work, you were the schools best bet against this ‘threat.’ And so, your oh so kind instructor pushed this task onto you and left.
Not without you demanding an extra allowance, but still.
Thankfully, you were well equipped with a grumpy cat-weasel thing who is so glad to help and definitely did not try and run away. “Ehh? Why do I have to help ya??” Grim whined as he hung limply, your hand firmly grasping his scruff as you held him up. He was so generous and did not need to be bribed at all.
You sighed, “I’ll put some money aside from this to get you tuna.” Technically, that was a lie. No, you were going to fix the window Grim broke from practicing his magic in the house, again.
“I want two cans!” The motivated cat purred and jumped onto your shoulders. Now, you can finally begin your mission and take on this… threat...?
This threat was a real threat!
The sight of the frozen cafeteria did scare you. You had learnt that after you had stumbled upon the frozen dinning hall; all of this was from the baby fae! What on Earth were you suppose to even do once you caught the child?
How would you catch this kid without being frozen exactly? Why were you put on this task?
There was a mountain of ice and a many frozen students who were actively being saved by other students most of whom were made to help. They had gotten lucky in your option. They didn’t have to find the kid. “So much magic…" An awestruck student said, "it’s hard to believe a kid did this.” The nameless person mumbled as they helped thaw the room out. You couldn’t help but hum in agreement to yourself.
What kid could do this when Deuce struggled with making anything but cauldrons while he was somewhere new! It was… overwhelming magic for sure. Even for you to stand in the middle of it, magicless. And this was just the dining hall!
Apparently, you had three more places to check out.
“Not much to see here.” Grim grumbled from your shoulder, just then a ball of fire came hurtling towards the two of you! “Eek!!” Grim squealed jumping of your shoulder while you ducked.
“Sorry!” A no name student called out… He had been using the fire to dethaw some students.
“We should leave… and fast.” You said as you turned to leave in a hurry. You tripped on the ice almost tripped on the ice while you left.
.
.
.
The very next place you checked was the courtyard, where Mr. Vargas liked to make you run in the blistering heat. PE was horrible. Everyone else got to be on their dumb magic brooms while you were stuck doing laps.
Mr. Vargas did like to make the boys sweat afterwards though. You got to sit on the grass and laugh at them cheer them on! Especially Ace, who always lagged behind.
Anyway, in the place of the field of green grass that your peers used to practice flying on a broom, was a field of fire. Green fire no less. At least it was still green? You stayed a distance away while you watched a group of five students try and summon water magic to help fight these flames. “If you don’t do this right, it’ll be off with your heads!” Next to them, a familiar short, red-haired boy was shouting at them and telling them what they were doing wrong.
You liked to think it wouldn't actually be off with their heads, Riddle was above that... Now. You liked to think it was just motivation to make them work harder!
Because it was mostly Heartslabyul students, it worked. "Hey! Riddle?" You called out to the boy. The Housewarden looked at you and jogged up to meet you a way away from the green flames. Was Sebek here as well? You swore you heard his voice shouting...
"You shouldn't be here. This area is off-limits to anyone outside of the Equestrian club because of the danger." Riddle crossed his arms; his tone was pretty gentle though. You nodded along to what he was saying, because it made sense.
"Crowley wants us to find the Fae doing this, do you know anything about it?" You decided to get right to the point. Riddle was busy enough as it was. He seemed to appreciate it too.
The boy glanced back at the students trying to figure out how to calm the fire and shook his head. "I think I heard a few third years mention a blur of H/C going into the school." He mentioned, you mostly knew the kid was in the school. It was one of the places Crowley wanted you to check out, Mr. Trein's class, after that you didn't really know where the kid could be.
You smiled and thanked Riddle before turning to leave, the boy glanced back at the fire before stepping a bit closer to you, a slightly embarrassed look on his face. "Uh- Y/N, I was wondering if you wanted to have tea with me later I-"
"Dorm leader! it's spreading!" A student shouted out, a panicked look on their face as they rushed up to the two of you. Riddle muttered something under his breath, before jogging back to the fire. To step up to calm the flames even more than what the regular student could do so you left.
“This seemed handled enough…” You muttered, a bit disappointed that you didn't get to finish your conversation with Riddle, Grim simply rolled his eyes and you two turned to leave.
.
.
.
You went to Mr. Trein’s classroom next. Your most boring class of twisted wonderland, history, uh... you think. Truthfully you hadn’t stayed awake long enough to know what class he taught.
It was not for lack of trying either!
He just drew out his words and spoke in just a boring robotic tone, it could put anyone to sleep! I digress. The cat: Lucius liked you too, he tended to let you sleep more while waking up other students.
Anyway, in place of the classroom was… an overgrown forest? In the center of it, you noticed a tall, well groomed, teal haired male, squatting down to examine what appeared to be a mushroom….
Obviously. it was Jade. He was part of the Mountain Lovers Club. The sole member actually if you remember right. Crowley mentioned something about the clubs handling the situations. So...
This seemed… handled-ish….
You would be taking your leave now. You closed the door silently and Grim groaned. "This is so boring." He whined, "Why do we have to do this?!" You shrugged slightly.
"Crowley said he'll give an extra allowance this week if we do this." You mumbled, "We could really use it to fix that window you broke." You reminded the cat. He huffed and glared at you a bit childishly, crossing his furry arms silently on your shoulder.
"I thought you said I could have extra tuna?" He realized, jumping off your shoulder he pointed at you in an accusatory manner; you sighed a bit.
You didn’t have time to find him right now. "We can talk about this later." You walked past him but when he didn't follow you, you turned around.
Where did Grim go...? You looked around the halls for him, "Grim?!" Didn’t he know not to wonder off while there was a threat on campus!
Where did Grim go...? You looked around the halls for him, "Grim?!" Didn’t he know not to wonder off while there was a threat on campus!
This fae would eat him alive!
Feeling even more motivated and slightly panicked, you ran off to find the cat and disregard the threat that was getting killed by meeting this Fae kid unarmed. Uncated? Either way.
.
.
.
.
“Someone help me!” You finally heard Grims's voice after looking for him for... quite a while actually. Pushing the door to the classroom open, you found...
Nothing.
Every potion was on its self, the stirring sticks where the usually go, nothing burned, frozen, or overgrown nothing was… well anywhere. At least anywhere out of place. “Someone, help me!” A cried out a very familiar voice squeaked out. Hesitantly, you walked closer to where you heard Grim’s voice.
This felt like something out of a horror movie.
A cauldron, inside of it was the soft glow of blue flames. No doubt caused by Grins fire ears. “Grim…?” You spoke softly. Peeking inside the steel pot, you saw a young boy, a long tail curled up beside him and one horn on the side of his head. In his arms was Grim, held tightly like he was a stuffed animal. He sniffled and then looked up at you with the most striking green eyes you’ve ever seen…
“Y/n!” Grim cried out, relief flooding his voice and breaking you from the little boy's curse of cuteness.
You plucked Grim from the kid's arms and He crawled onto your shoulders.
“Momma!” The boy, still in the cauldron yelled out, stumbling to get up and jump into your arms, get hindered by the caldron he found himself stuck in. His face was red from tears, and he looked scared… his small hands shaking with fear. He sniffled more, his chubby hands rubbing away his tears as they fell. Your heart ached slightly seeing those tears.
This can't be the same boy running amok in the school's campus. He was just so... non-threatening?
So, without a second thought. You picked the small boy up and cooed at him. Grim stared at you bewildered, His experience far more intimidating them yours.
Didn't you know how tight that boy was holding him?! Poor Grim almost didn't make it. He whined and frowned at the attention you were giving the boy.
Now, you just had to take this sweetheart to Crowley.
Either way, the small boy was absolutely adorable! Sure, he may or may not have caused this week's class cancelations but really, Ace was thanking the boy for it, so all was fine! Back at ramshackle, you realized, he was just a kid.
He was using some crayons to draw. He screamed like a bit of a brat when you tried to make him eat some broccoli you got... You thought it would be good for you and grim and neither of you ate it.
His big electric green eyes that reminded you of… someone? But who was it again? Well, it didn’t matter. The boy had green eyes, H/ced hair and these two small slightly curled horns on top of his head.
His ears were pointed just like a fae’s but just slightly? They weren’t as long nor as sharp as a regular fae’s like Lilia. It was hard to explain. It was the oddest thing- he had a tail as well! A long blackish purple one at that. And he was excellent at magic, if the destroyed campus told you anything. “Are you mad at me?” He looked up at you with teary eyes after you informed Crowley you caught him.
“Why would I be mad at you?” You asked the small boy curiously, blinking at him a bit confused at the question. His large electric green puppy eyes weren’t exactly helping you stand strong and not coddle him either.
“Because I made the rooms a mess…” he rubbed his large cheeks free from stray tears. Not that he was any good at it either, you just shook your head and kneeled to the floor, wiping them away for him.
Something about this boy made you wanted to care for him and protect him- he was just do cute. “Nonsense, you were scared. A little mess is fine as long as you weren’t hurt.” When you looked at him you felt something akin to cuteness aggression. This little fae was adorable! If Crowley didn’t find his parents, you’d take him in!
Ignore how poorly you yourself lived in ramshackle! And how much of your food was canned tuna because Grim insisted on it over actual food.
And the window that you still needed to fix and were most likely going to spend this week's allowance on...
The boy nodded, cuddling into your side like a small cuddly cat.
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He was adorable but children were a handful.
Crowley, after assigning you to catch the kid, gave you the poor child to take care of. So, you had been living with the child for three whole days.
Not to say the kid- who’s name you learned was Casper- was a handful. In fact, he was a sweetheart. He tended to shy away from things a bit, and he was a bundle of nerves sometimes.
He definitely got overwhelmed when left by himself, often resorting to crying and when he cried his magic tended to...
Anyway, Despite the amount of magic he held at his fingertip, he’d rush to you at the slightest creak of the floorboards, held onto you tightly, and hide his face in your shirt.
When it was finally time to go to school you didn’t really know what to do with the kid…? We’re you suppose to just… bring a kid to class with you? I mean, you already bring a cat, and the kid would probably be more well behaved then Grim.
So you brought Casper with you. And it was fine He was very sweet, maybe a little to shy, the teachers did love him. He introduced himself to them from behind your leg.
That was two days ago, now you were in the cafeteria. You hadn't been here in two days because, well you weren't sure if Casper would be okay around the crowd of students. Some of whom were still bitter about the Ice things... and the green fire thing.
“Fufufu, what do we have here?” Lilia popped up out of absolutely nowhere. "I heard a rumor about a trouble make~" He smirked.
“Grandpa Lilia!” The kid for once didn’t shy away. You had expected him to start crying. (He had before after all, when Jade introduced himself to the boy.) Lilia simply smiled and accepted the boy's affections, nodding along as he babbled about his day. Meanwhile, you were staring bewildered at the boy.
And... That was your lunch.
With of course, Ace and Deuce coming to keep you company while Lilia entertained Casper.
Most of your lunch you'd glance at the two. 'Grandpa Lilia?' You wondered why he was unusually not shy? He was a talkative boy to you, but with a stranger, no way... “Where Papa?” He asked looking up at the older fae with his large sparkling eyes. Oh, maybe Lilia knew the boy's parents! He was an older fae himself, right?
“Yes, good question indeed where is your papa?” Lilia asked, before he looked at you, a small smirk on his face, he looked at you like you’d know! You didn’t. You had tried to correct the kid on you being his mom before two- he cried and sulked over it for a while after that. “Well, I best be Off now!” Lilia cheered and gave you the kid back before disappearing off somewhere.
That was weird right?
You day went on- Ace and Deuce were good around the kid. Casper was pretty decent around Ace and Deuce, not too shy but he wasn't rambling like he was around Lilia. "Is something on your mind?" Deuce asked curiously, a mild layer of unwarranted concern.
"It's fine..." You shrugged, "I just hope Crowley find Caspers parents soon." You sighed, and the boy in question looked at you confused. He called you Mom and you basically took care of him, so you figured he thought you were his mom.
Not that you really minded, it wasn't like he thought you were old, fae tended to not age and stay good looking forever basically. Case in point, Lilia.
You really didn't mind, you already took care of Grim, so what's another, milder tempered Grim who didn't run away? "Speaking of the kid- Where is he?" Ace asked, looking around.
Scratch that, the kid wondered off.
"Oh no." You sighed and looked at the Adeuce duo with an exhausted look they couldn't say no too. They'd help you find the kid.
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How on earth did Sebek of all people get Casper?
Sebek, a first year in your class. Some loud guy who you got partnered up with once.
Why didn't Casper run away! You most certainly would and have. Instead, you found Casper on Sebek Zigvolt of all people's shoulders. Now you and Ace were whispering about how to get the kid back. No way you were going to go up to Sebek of all people and have to listen to his "fae are superior" speech... again.
"We should... Lure Casper away with candy." You whispered, Ace gave you a look and shot down your idea.
"Do you want to give him the impression that you should follow random people with candy?" He said looking at you like you just had the worst idea ever. "I say we just grab him and run."
"No, Sebek is faster than us." You noted, "Especially you, he runs laps past you in PE." Ace bumped your shoulder with an eyeroll.
"Where's Deuce?" Ace frowned, you watched with wide eyes as you saw Deuce confidently walk up to Sebek... "oh no." Ace groaned and run up behind Deuce.
You cursed to yourself. "We don't have to follow right...?" you asked the cat who agreed with you, but you knew you kind of had to follow them.
"Hey- Sebek." You smiled awkwardly.
"Mama!" The kid called out to you and reached out towards you. he almost fell off Sebek's shoulders- thankfully you caught him. Sebek looked at you in confusion and maybe a bit judgmentally...?
"No- he isn't..." You sighed and gave up.
"A human couldn't mother a Fae of Caspers caliber!" And so... Sebek began his rant. He started with how Lilia informed him of the situation, and he was here to lift the burden of Casper from your human shoulders.
Really, it saved you the time of informing Sebek you were in fact, not a teen mom. Also, it was weirdly insulting? Like hey, come on, you’ve taken care of him for three days! Almost four, “Casper is pretty happy with me, right sweetie?” You asked the boy who nodded hesitatingly. Wait- hesitantly? “Huh?”
Sebek looked a bit disheartened the Fae kid rejected him, but he was also kind of confused as well. “It’s just… I miss Papa, Mama…” the boys lips quivered a bit.
“No, no! You're not in trouble.” You fell to your knees to comfort the boy.
Apparently Sebek was hanging out with the child because he thought he was Malleus but something went wrong. Perhaps someone used their unique magic in the future ruler of briar valley.
Um… who’s Malleus?
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Day four of having a child.
Today you were going to find this kid someone who looked close enough to his dad. I mean, you apparently looked like his mom enough, so… yeah!
Also, perhaps his brother went to this school and that was how he ended up here. Finding him a dad sounded fun though.
It was a solid plan… “Casper?” You woke the boy up. You put Casper in the guest bedroom ace usually occupied when he was collared. Which was often. Even with Riddle being looser on the rules Ace always pushed sadly. “Today we’re finding your father.” You informed the boy.
“Really!” His eyes lit up. Why didn’t you do this sooner?
“Mhm, just tell me what he looks like-“ and so began Caspers rant on how amazing his father was. How he always makes time for you two even though he’s so busy, how good he was at playing superhero’s- and so on.
You didn’t even realize superhero’s existed here. Crazy. “He has black horns like me!” He grinned up at you, “oh- and black hair and we have the same eyes!” He giggled before again going on about how awesome his dad was.
“Horns, black hair, green eyes…” you mumbled, “and you're a fae, so we should probably go to Diasomnia, they have the most fae of the dorms” you smiled brightly. “This Malleus guy seems promising- and if he doesn’t want to, I’ll just make him!” You cheered and with Casper on your shoulders you were out the door!
.
.
.
Was it just you or was Diasomnia slightly terrifying?
 Either way, with Casper on your shoulders like you were going to the zoo, you walked on the winding path with thorns around it and into the dorm. The halls were… very long and castle-like. 
Eventually you found the dorm's common room. Witch had three students, only one of which was a fae. With as much confidence you could muster, you approached them. “Hello! Good evening gentlemen… Um, do you happen to know someone whom this child looks like?” You smiled and proceeded to the kid. 
They very politely actually said that they think he looks like Malleus. You asked them to point you to this Malleus, and they again very politely refused. Apparently he was a busy man which was fair. But he was a father now! If casper deems him fit enough (By that you mean mistake him for his father like the boy did you.)
Still, throughout this process, you couldn't help but wonder if you were forgetting someone. 
You kept glancing at Caspers horns… who else did you know with horns? “Tsunotarou! That's who you look like!” You finally realized after an embarrassingly long time. In your defense you had only met the guy once or twice while you were dealing with Leona’s stupid plan, and didn’t Leona mention Malleus during his overblot?
“That's what you call Papa!” Casper cheered, his eyes widening in awe. Okay so, either that was a common name… which you doubt or Casper had a weird background. 
“Khee Khee what do we have here?” Lilia appeared out of nowhere! …again, still you jumped! 
“Mama is going to find Papa today!” Casper cheered in all his three year old glory. Picking the boy up and lifting him to sit on your hit you nodded. 
“Mhm! I’m going to meet this… Malleus demands he becomes Caspers father or pay child support!” You claim confidently because in reality, you were beginning to doubt the plan you came up with at 3am and woke up early for. “Tsunotarou would be a better bet but I really don’t know where that guy is… or his real name.” you muttered to yourself. 
Either way, Lilia clapped and with a large smile said this: “You're in luck! Malleus just finished his breakfast and should be heading over for his morning coffee.” So, without verbally questioning why he knew that you smiled and plopped down on the common room’s chairs watching a bit nervously as Lilia wandered off again. 
So… You were really dumb. Realistically this was a horrible plan bound to fail, but you already came this far. 
Didn’t all your friends always comment about how scary Malleus was? Wasn’t he like one of the top mages of this world? 
Okay, maybe if you didn’t come up with this plan at 3am last night you wouldn’t be so royally screwed! Hah, get it because Malleus is supposed to be some royal of… a whole nation right? Yeah, this was a bad idea. 
Getting up to leave, you heard Casper cheer for his father.
“Child Of Man?” 
“Tsunotarou?” You turned around, “Actually- no this is better than getting smited by some scary mage! Okay so I have been looking for… you, for a while!” You smiled, “This is our son: casper.” You introduced them. 
“Papa!” 
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“Mm, He does look like me.” Tsunotarou hummed; he knelt beside the child, titling his head curiously as he observed the child. “Your horns are coming in nicely aren't they?” He commented with a small smile, the boy nodded enthusiastically. 
“Mhm! They should be as big as yours soon!” Casper giggled. 
“Your speech is also advanced for a child of your age.” The older boy smiled, It was a very touching sight actually. 
“It is. Ace and Deuce have been helping me teach him some bigger stuff too.” you stated proudly as the younger boy nodded along. You sat beside where the boy stood in front of his new father. Your back against the armrest, you sat planted on the floor. “The headmage said he would be dealing with getting him back home but I have to take care of him till then.” You sighed. 
“I see, so you thought to find me as I am the child's father?” Malleus asked curiously, an eyebrow raised almost teasingly.
“If you’ll believe it, yup.” You nodded along, I mean if he believes that the kid is his, why not get him to take responsibility for that sweet child support money?
“I see, so Crowley is making the proper arrangement to get you back to us in the future.” 
“Wait, so he's actually my kid?” you couldn’t help but blurt out. Tsunotarou merely chuckles. “Am I dumb or are we actually like his parents?” You whispered a bit to Tsunotarou and stood up, he followed after you standing up as well. 
“Mm? Crowely didn’t inform you?” he said with an amused and sly smile. “I suppose it's time anyway we get properly introduced seeing as you are my future spouse” He smirked, his hand on his hips.
“I am Malleus draconia”
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Fun Fact:
The events of this takes place after Heartslabyul’s and Savanaclaw overblot. So y/n doesn’t know Tsunotarou is Malleus.
Also, Lilia knew all along.
Also, also, I'm sorry this sucked lol
NOTE: Sorry this slightly sucked I didn't really plan to actually finish the WIP I posted it as "Forever unfinished" and people liked it so I thought I'd do this anyway!
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Some of Ya'll wanted to be Tagged: @yu-night-raven @kelsyntam @reivelmin @thisisafish123 @cheshire-kitsune @dmiqueles @ranbutler-epicsans-moon @dontmindmelove @swivi @halseyhatter @barbatoss-bitch @itslucieen @bell7duck @whatever-fanfics @ziankenvirus @blcknebula @leilakaro @sarraisme
(I'm not quite sure if I did it right but thank you for liking the WIP enough to comment and want to see another! I hope it was good, I kind of think It wasn't that good but Thats why I made it somewhat long... To compensate!)
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yuwuta · 7 months ago
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JUST KEEP LOVING ME THE WAY I LOVE YOU LOVING ME — SATORU GOJO
pairings. satoru gojo/reader
content, warnings. non-curse au, doctor au (reader), ceo au (satoru), no real content warnings, fluff, satoru is nothing but a romantic at heart
word count. 3k
notes. this exists in the post-completion au of a larger universe/incomplete fic of mine, that i will hopefully finish someday lololol but this is way easier to write than that so here you go 🥳
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“There are four chairs worth a collective seventy-five hundred dollars in this office, so, pray, tell, why is your ass on my desk?” 
Satoru grins at your words, too distracted by taking in the sight of you to take into consideration the underlying threat. It’s been far too long, almost three whole days since he’s last seen you and, god, you look good. He knows if he said that you’d roll your eyes and insist that there’s nothing good-looking about your worn-in business attire and lab coat that was in desperate need of laundering, but it wouldn’t change his opinion: you always look good, and Satoru really fucking missed you. 
Which is why he doesn’t say the words, but makes sure to throw a deceivingly charming wink your way so that you get the message anyway. As expected, you still roll your eyes, but he doesn’t mind; you look good doing that, too.
“Seriously, Satoru, what are you doing here?” you question, closing the door behind you when you fully step into the room. You make pace towards your desk, attempting to get to the other side, but this is exactly why Satoru chose to lean against it instead of sitting on any one of your very expensive and comfortable chairs—because this way, he’s in the perfect position to intercept your path and pull you to fit neatly between his legs before you can even think about reaching your office chair and ignoring him. 
He pulls you by the loop of your lab coat, but his hands quickly find their way to your shoulders, unpeeling the white layer just enough so that your blouse is exposed to him, and he can slowly rub his palms against your arms and shoulders with just enough pressure to hopefully release some tension. You won’t let go of all of it, but that’s alright, because Satoru’s got other methods for taking care of you.
“Hi,” he calls, smiling gently down at you, “I missed you.” 
This close, Satoru can see the exhaustion clearly in your eyes. There’s more, too: frustration, guilt, worry—and it takes everything in him not to coo and pull you into his chest and do his best to shield you from the world forever. 
There’s a beat before you speak, a small sigh, that’s quickly painted over with a tired smile and a remorseful, “I missed you, too. I’m sorry for being so short, the interim chief has been getting on my last nerves, and—”
“You don’t have to apologize,” Satoru cuts in, leaning forward to press a reassuring kiss to your forehead. He likes that he can feel you relax under his touch. “I know you’re busy. I just missed you.” 
It’s not easy to share you with anything or anyone, but Satoru knows that even on the hardest days, you love your job, and that so many people need your brilliant mind. What he does mind is when people make your job harder than it needs to be, and he’s been getting an earful about this new interim chief from just about everybody—you, Kento, Yuuji, Ieiri, even some of your favorite scrub nurses have indulged him in the gossip about the newest common enemy—and he doesn’t appreciate that someone is putting extra stress on his baby. So, even if it is a makeshift massage in your office and distracting you from your paperwork, Satoru will do what he can to help you relieve tension. 
You reach your arms to wrap them around his shoulders, taking a half step closer to him, peering up at him. Satoru loves when your arms are around his neck like this; he can’t quite pinpoint why—maybe it’s the way you have to crane your neck to look up at him, the way you’re perfectly nestled under his view, the feeling of being wrapped in you. He does his best to close the loop of your intimacy, resting his hands on the small of your back and pulling you impossibly closer and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He likes that he can feel you relax into his touch.
“You’re sweet,” you smile, rubbing your thumb against the shorter hairs at the back of his head. Satoru feels himself melt into you, too. It’s been too long since you’ve been this close, three whole days too long. “Thank you.”
“Nothing to thank me for, baby,” he smiles, stealing a gentle kiss. Satoru loves this the most, loves the feeling of your lips on his—and it’s definitely been too long since he’s kissed you, so he makes sure to do it again, and once more after that for good measure. 
But it’s not enough. He’ll have to take you home, sit you on the couch so he can kiss you all night and make up for the lack of kisses and touches and youness he’s been deprived of these past few days. But first, he’ll have to pull you away from your work, and that��s not easy work. 
“Come home,” he muses, leaning his forehead against yours, “We can order in, and share your favorite bottle of wine, and watch a movie.” 
You lean up to kiss him briefly. “Every time we share a bottle of wine, we end up making out and not watching anything.” 
“Do we?” Satoru feigns innocence, “I never noticed. Doesn’t sound like a bad idea, though.”
“Satoru,” you whisper, quiet but firm, with a smile that lets him know you want to, but you can’t. It’s a tone that Satoru knows all too well, and isn’t particularly fond of. “I have charts to finish.” 
“Finish them tomorrow,” he steals another kiss, “Or pawn them off on Kento,” another kiss, “Or Yuuji. Residents always need more experience—isn’t that what you and Ieiri always say?” 
You let him kiss you again, and again, and again. Each time a little longer, a little warmer, a little less innocent than the last, growing from a little, to a lot, to all-consuming. Satoru hums when he feels your nails raking through his hair; an unfortunate move, as the sound pulls you back to reality and away from him in a decrescendo of kisses. 
“You’re really good at that,” you laugh, voice soft. 
“At kissing?” Satoru dips his head down to taste your laughter against his lips, “Thanks, I’ve had a lot of practice with a very pretty girl.” 
“No,” and you’re laughing again, louder this time, and Satoru counts every little giggle as a victory, “You’re good at... seducing me without saying you’re seducing me.”
“Oh, that?” he grins, tucking his pointer and index finger under your chin to meet you in a knowing kiss, “Yeah, that’s a talent of mine, too.”
You let him steal one more, and Satoru doesn’t take it for granted. “Come home,” he whispers against your lips before slotting them in yet another kiss, “I miss you.” 
And he can feel it when you finally break, sighing into the kiss, and melting into his touch completely. One more, he just needs one more kiss to seal the deal, and then—“Fine,” you concede, “But I get to choose where to get dinner from.” 
“Of course, sweets, whatever you want,” Satoru grins, pulling back to kiss your forehead again, “Now—shall we? If we order in the car, we can probably pick it up on our way home.”
He’s in the home stretch now, but he’s not completely free: if you catch a glimpse of your work, or someone comes in to find you, or your godforsaken pager beeps then all of his plans could come crumbling down before him. The key to transitioning from the “you’ve agreed to come home with him early stage”—if you can count 9:45pm, coming off of a 17-hour work day as early—to the “we are actually leaving this hospital and nobody can stop us phase” is swiftness. This time period is critical, and Satoru is ready for the sprint. 
He shimmies your lab coat all the way off of your body for you, checking for the weight of your pager in your right pocket, before hanging it on the back of your chair. He shoos you to grab your coat, and makes sure you don’t get within three feet of this side of your desk—taking your purse out of your locked drawer and closing an open file folder in the time it takes you to slip out of your heels and into your sneakers, and by the time you’re turning back around, Satoru is already there next to you, with your purse in one hand, and his other hovering on the light switch. 
He makes sure you’re out the door first, and flickers off the light with a satisfied grin. His baby was coming home early with him, and there is nothing else he’d rather do than spend time pampering you. 
You must truly be more tired than you know, because you make no protest when he slings an arm over your shoulder on your way out of the elevator. Usually, you chastise him for any PDA within hospital walls, but tonight you let it be, even leaning some of your body weight against his as you walk. Satoru’s not complaining at all, maybe he’ll try his luck and sneak a kiss on your cheek. 
He decides to go for it, leaning over for a kiss, when you suddenly pull away, turning and patting against your side. Confused, and disappointed, Satoru pouts, “We’ve really got to work on this fear of affection you’ve got going on, sweets. It’s the leading cause of makesatorupout-itis.” 
“We’ve been over this—you can’t just add “itis” to the end of your words to make them diagnostic,” you giggle, “I was looking for my keys.”
Satoru’s frown deepens. “You have the fancy reserved doctor parking space, they can’t tow you. So, we can take my car home.” 
“No, we cannot, because I do not trust you to wake up and drive me back tomorrow morning.” 
“Then I’ll get you a cab in the morning, or—even better, I’ll call Ichiji to pick you up.” 
“Ichiji is still in Paris,” you remind him. Satoru purses his lips. He did ask Ichiji to stay with Megumi. Damn it.
“I have other cars, you can drive one of them in the morning.” 
“And park it where?” 
“In your fancy reserved doctor parking—oh, okay I see the flaw there,” Satoru pulls back. You find amusement in his disappointment, but he doesn’t think there’s anything funny here. 
He shakes his head. He should have taken a cab from his office, but this is okay, a minor setback, nothing he can’t think around. “New plan: we take your car, and I’ll come by to get mine tomorrow. Easy peasy.” 
“Yours will be towed by then.” 
“That’s fine,” Satoru shrugs, “I can afford a tow fee.” 
“Satoru,” you call, reaching your free hand up to place your palm against his cheek, “We both drive home. It’ll be thirty minutes, tops. Forty if there’s traffic, but if you stop pouting and we leave now, we should be fine.” 
Satoru sighs. He knows that’s the most reasonable plan of action, but the simple truth is that he doesn’t want to be away from you right now, even to go the short distance home. He’s already spent the last few days without you, and even though this is calling it in early for you, he only gets maybe four hours awake with you before you’re off again. Thinking about that makes him miss you again already. Pathetic, maybe, but he doesn’t care.
“Oh, Dr. (_____), hey!” Yuuji’s voice is an easily distinguishable interruption to your petty argument, and Satoru’s sulking, “Perfect timing—I’m glad I caught you before you left. Is it okay if I ask you to sign something before you go?” 
You easily warm up to the younger boy and agree, fondly making conversation with Yuuji as he scrolls through some documents on his tablet. And just as you’ve finished scribbling your signature along the screen, Satoru has a bright idea. 
“Hey, Yuuji, you can drive right?” Satoru questions rhetorically, already reaching for his wallet and car keys, “Great! Here’s two grand, it’s all yours if you drive this car home tonight.” Satoru smiles widely, shoving his keys and some cash into the pocket of Yuuji’s white coat. 
“What—really? Awesome! But, why—” 
Satoru dismisses his disbelief with a wave of his hand. He steps a bit closer to Yuuji, just enough to lean into his ear and tuck a couple more bills into his pocket, “And between you and me, that’s an extra three grand if you finish up a couple of charts for my lady so she can sleep in tomorrow. Not a bad deal, right?” 
“Sure, no problem!” Yuuji salutes, “I’d do anything for Dr. Almost-Gojo. Plus, if I’m busy working for her, then I don’t have to babysit cells in a dish for Dr. Gakuganji.” 
“Atta boy,” Satoru ruffles his hair, “Catch you later, Yuuji, I’ve got a hot date to get to. And tell Nanamin I say hello!” 
You elbow Satoru shallowly, a silent warning to keep his voice down, and a verbal chastising of, “It’s Dr. Itadori and Dr. Nanamin to you.”
“More like Dr. Nanameanie,” Satoru laments, resuming the position of his arm around your shoulder, “I’ve left him six calls this week! He’s so cruel—he knows I have to leave next week and he’s depriving me of one on one time. I think I’m gonna have to sneak into his office at lunch tomorrow and confront him.”
Despite his crass words and dramatics, you laugh, and so, Satoru smiles. He finally gets that cheek kiss right as you two reach your car, bending down to plant one for you at the same time he steals your keys from your hand and banishes you to the passenger seat. He’s not much of a driver himself, despite his excess amount of cars, but you’re his baby and you deserve to be driven around no matter the case, but especially when you’ve spent all day taking care of other people. 
Plus, on days like this, if he’s real careful and smooth, you fall asleep in the car and he gets to carry you inside. He makes that his goal for the next thirty minutes, and he succeeds in twenty, confirmed by your soft snores just as he pulls into the curbside pick-up spot of your favorite restaurant. He retrieves the take-out as quietly as possible, before making the rest of the journey home, taking the time to glance over at you during red lights. 
Satoru loves the way you look when you’re asleep, loves to see you well-rested, but something even more dear to him than that is a fact that Nanami let slip in the aftermath of a dinner party he’d hosted about a year after you two had started dating: “She never sleeps outside of her bed, for as long as I’ve known her,” he muses, nodding to your sleeping figure on Satoru’s couch, “Not even in the on-call rooms during our 72 hour shifts. She must... she must really trust you, Satoru.” 
(He also recalls the awfully strong grip on his shoulder and subsequent shovel talk Kento gave him a moment later. Not that Satoru ever had anything but pure intentions with you, but the threat of breaking Kento’s best friend’s heart was more than enough to keep his commitments in check).
Satoru peers at you fondly in his arms, held bridal style with the takeout in the grip of a pinky finger, glancing up only to nod and thank his doorman for pushing the penthouse button for him. Satoru prides himself on many things, but the one thing he always holds in his highest regards is you: call him cocky, but he thinks he’s quite good at caring for you, that there’s nobody else fit to look after you the way that he can; and knowing that you feel safe in his arms is the highest honor he could achieve in this life.
He sets you carefully on the couch once he steps inside the apartment, and places the food on the coffee table. He debates whether or not he should wake you up now; he hates to, but he knows you need to eat, and, selfishly, he wants to cash in on those few hours he has with you to hear your voice. 
He’ll dish out the food first, and then wake you up to eat, he decides. He leans down to kiss the crown of your head, eyes flicking to your face, and pausing at your neck, where your engagement ring rests crookedly against your skin. You must have had an emergency surgery today, he thinks; your schedule for today was originally just to round on post-op patients and attend some meetings, but you knot the ring into your chain when you have to scrub into the operating room. 
Carefully, Satoru reaches to undo it from the chain, and slips it back onto your ring finger. It looks pretty against your skin when it’s around your neck, but personally, he thinks it looks best this way, the sparkle of the aquamarine against the halo of diamonds fits perfectly across the width of your finger, just the way he had it made to be.
Satoru bends down even further to kiss the back of your hand, before laying it to rest on your stomach. He might need to bribe Yuuji to take care of some more work for you, you two really should get a move on that wedding planning, and you’re going to need at least a week off to fly and visit his grandma’s pastry shop in Osaka for cake tasting.
He smiles at the thought. He doesn’t feel so bad about waking you up now—wedding talk seems like the perfect way to end the evening if you ask him; there would be no sweeter sound than hearing how you imagine the start of the rest of your lives to be. 
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kingtomura · 7 months ago
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Cat and mouse
synopsis: Your ex boyfriend has some nerve texting you at three in the morning — an entire week after the disaster breakup you had. You should really go over there and give him a piece of your mind. Well, you know what they say about famous last words.  wc: 6.1k | crossposted to ao3 content: tomura shigaraki x female reader, no quirks au, toxic tomura, reader is kinda toxic too tbh, unhealthy relationships, breaking up and making up, vaginal fingering, overstim, breeding kink, piv, dubcon creampie, degredation, threats of baby trapping, hurt/comfort, sweet at the end idc
You’ve told your friends time and time again to stay out of your business. They never listen. 
“Oh my god, Kirishima? Is he even twenty yet?” You drag as you watch your friend flip through several pictures of the redheaded boy like he was a member of the bachelor. 
She smiles, scrolling her phone for more options, “no, but he will be in a couple of months!”
“No!” Your words are sharp. You love Mina but god, you don’t want her to play matchmaker with you. It’s not like you’re a charity case or something. 
She gasps and you swear you could see the lightbulb go off above her head. “What about Denki? He’s fun!” 
You groan, falling back onto the bed and covering your eyes with your arm. “Mina.” 
“Hey, just give her a break okay? It’s only been about a week.” Your saving grace Yaoyorozu speaks up and it’s nice to finally have someone on your side. 
“Thank you.”
“Seriously? So we’re just going to sit around and watch you mope about all day?” Mina questions, irritation clear in her voice and it grates your ears.  
“Preferably, yes! Just let me be.” You roll over, face officially shoved into your pillow. It’s been a rough couple of days and you haven’t gotten a single call or text from Tomura. Not that you should be expecting one. You broke up with him after all. 
It’s just.. this time feels different. Usually there’s more arguing and he’s fighting for you to stay around, but this time there was nothing. No quips, no insults, just “fine, get out then.”
That hurt the most. 
You had no idea what he was up to. 
Maybe he was as depressed as you were. 
Maybe he’s found someone else. 
The thought makes you stop in your tracks. The idea of Tomura, your tomura with someone else is enough to make you nauseous. 
You jump to your feet and rush to the bathroom, locking yourself in and falling to your knees. 
God, what if that was why it was so easy?
You pull out your phone, the device lighting up and unlocking with your facial id. 
Tomura doesn’t use social media much but you could still check to see if he’d blocked you. 
To your surprise, he hadn’t. 
He hasn't posted anything either and there’s no new person in his followers. 
You feel yourself exhale a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. No change is a good thing. 
There’s knocking on the door and you thank the stars you locked it. Your friends would judge you so hard if they saw you lurking through your ex’s social media. 
“Hey, are you okay in there?” It’s your saving grace Yaoyorozu again and you almost feel bad for shutting her out. 
“Yeah, I’m sorry if it feels like I pressured you! I’ll give you some space.” Mina's regretful voice calls and it makes your heart clench. You know she means well but she just doesn’t understand. None of them do. 
Whether you want to admit it or not, you love Tomura. 
Yes, you argue and yes, you fight, but he just gets you. He’s so cynical, but so caring — in his own special way. Too bad he was such an asshole. The argument wasn’t even supposed to go that far. 
There are tears beginning to blur your vision and you wipe them away, willing the feelings down and standing to your feet. 
If he wanted you to stay away, then fine. You could do that. 
You splash cool water onto your face and take a breath, steeling yourself and getting ready to face your friend once more. It was Saturday and they were convinced you needed a fun girl’s night.
It takes a lot to refrain from cringing at the phrase, but you believe they held some truth with the idea. You definitely didn’t want to be alone right now.
You unlock the bathroom door, meeting Mina and Yaoyorozu’s worried expressions with a smile. 
“We should probably get ready now, huh?”
Mina’s eyes light up, smile blinding and excitement contagious.
“Yes! Jirou and the others are here now.” She starts to clap, excitement buzzing around her, “Girl’s night is going to be amazing!” 
—-
Girl’s night was a bust.
The moment everyone arrived the apartment quickly filled with chaos. Noisy and busy, it was all giving you a headache. Until someone decided it would be a good idea to pregame before going out.
In preparation for the night your friend’s insisted that you get dolled up, hair makeup and skimpy clothes you wouldn’t look twice at on any normal day. 
You had to admit it made you a little more excited to get out and at least feel like your world isn't crashing around you. It was supposed to be a fun little night out. Somehow one drink turned into two, which turned into three which turned into Mina swearing she could beat everyone in a dance battle. 
The group only got more riled up as everyone indulged in this silly challenge. 
One challenge leads to another, which leads to more drinking, which then ends in everyone being too drunk to function and knocking out — all laid out in odd places around your living room floor and couch. 
The groggy feeling came first, your arms radiating in dull pain as you vaguely recalled trying to beat Mina in a contest of who could do the most push ups. It sure as hell wasn't you, but the drunk version of you thought it was possible to move mountains. 
You blink a few times, trying to will your eyes to rapidly adjust to the darkness of the room and find out what this odd buzzing noise beside you had been. Turning over, you find your phone, squinting as the too bright screen lights up your face and you see that it is three a.m.
You had fallen asleep with everyone else.
The phone buzzes again, lighting up and you have to squint further to read the contact name.
Tomura. 
Your eyes widen as you scan over the three texts he’s sent you. 
Wasting no time, you rush to your feet and into the bathroom so you can look at your phone without the chance of prying eyes overlooking your shoulder. Even though they were probably going to be out until late morning.
Tomura’s messages were short, no paragraphs, no essays but three different messages sent in succession. 
When are you coming to get your shit?
I’m tired of waiting.
And I’m deleting our farm btw. 
The first two messages don’t get much of a reaction from you, especially since it’s three a.m and he knows you’re usually asleep around this time. 
But the third message…
Your Stardew Valley farm that you’ve had and worked on together for almost two years being put on the line and threatened? What the fuck was his problem?
This farm was a constant in your relationship. Throughout the ups and downs and back and forths. You were sure that hell would freeze over before you both would give up that progress. But here he is, threatening you while you would have been asleep. What an asshole.
Your feet are moving before your brain can stop them and you make your way to the front door. Since your friends were all passed out it would be easy to sneak over to Shigaraki’s place, give him a piece of your mind and then sneak back. In and out, quick and easy. 
Your decision is made and you grab your coat, deciding to just go over there as you are. You hadn’t changed out of your outfit that was supposed to be for the night out, but it didn’t matter. You only needed to get over there and get there fast.
Once you arrive at Tomura’s doorstep you waste no time knocking. It’s around three in the morning so he should still very much be awake. 
There's a chill in the air as you wait for his answer and you wrap your jacket closer to your body. A rumble of thunder caught your attention and it's then you notice the rain clouds rolling in. You knew it would only be a matter of time before the bottom of the sky falls out and rain drenches everything. You were on borrowed time if you wanted to make it back before then.
After what feels like forever the door finally opens, revealing a very cozy pajama-clad Tomura, who seemed a little too pleased for his own good — if that sly smile he was doing a bad job at hiding was anything to go by. 
You don't give him a chance to greet you or say anything for that matter, stopping his words in their tracks as you cut him off. “What do you want?”
He doesn’t bother hiding his smirk now, the expression making your fists clench and your anger boil. “What do I want? You’re at my door, in front of my apartment.” He scoffs, clearly getting the exact reaction he had wanted from you, “I should be asking what do you want?” 
Caught like a deer in headlights. Whatever, you don't let that stop you as you pull out your phone to show him his text. “You sent this, I know you’re bluffing. What do you want?”
Tomura shrugs, leaning against his door frame and giving you a pleased look. Expression relaxed and content. Not a care in the world. “To talk.”
“Well, I'm here now, so let’s talk.” You spit, crossing your arms and waiting for whatever else he would throw at you. 
“Sure, but you should come in first.” He starts, looking up towards the darkened sky, confirming his assessment. “It’s gonna rain soon, you know.”
Of course you knew that. 
You just didn’t want to give him more time than you had. But you agree and go in, ignoring the fighting feeling in the back of your mind screaming at you to turn away and hightail it out of there. 
Tomura’s home is the exact way it was the day you left, give or take a few more containers of takeout littered around the place. You have half a mind to scold him about it, but quickly remember that it isn’t your place to do that anymore. 
So instead you stay quiet, following him into the apartment and into the living room. Opting to stand as he sat, and resisted the urge to get comfortable. 
“So, what do you want to talk about?” You try, done watching him pick up a controller and boot up a video game. Seriously? 
Your patience was wearing thin now as you watched him ignore you to play some stupid game. You try calling to him again, knowing this was probably a waste of your time and groans.
“I was in the middle of something before you got here. Let me finish and we’ll talk.” It's flippant the way he waves you off and continues the game. The lack of care only hurting your feelings further and making you realize this may have all been a big mistake on your part.
You shouldn’t be at your ex boyfriend’s house being ignored. You should be at your house getting drunk and hanging out with your best friends. There was no reason to stay somewhere you’re obviously not valued.
It’s a simple choice when you put it into perspective. 
But things are always easier said than done. 
You sigh, the air puffing out your cheeks, a bad habit you had when angry, and walk right in front of Tomura’s TV. There was more satisfaction in making him lose the game and then announcing your departure than just leaving quietly. 
He cranes his neck to see around you, but it doesn’t work, finally giving up as his character inevitably dies. “What!?”
“I’m leaving!” You announced, turning on your heel and heading towards the front door.
“You had to make me lose first? I said I was almost done!” He spat back, rising from the couch to follow you.
You shrug, “I don’t care. Why invite me in if you’re just going to ignore me?”
“Didn’t think you had the patience of a child.'' Tomura stands in front of you, cutting through your path and stopping you in your tracks.
It's almost comical the way he insults you. “Okay pot, meet kettle.” You try to brush past him, but he side steps with you. 
“What are you dressed like that for anyway? Did you go out tonight or something?”
“No!” You deny, a little louder than intended and then pause. “But it’s none of your business what I do anyway.”
Tomura hums at this, taking the words in and running them through his mind as he gives you a once over, eyes scanning from the too-tight shirt you wore — showing a generous amount of cleavage, down to your mini skirt that left little to the imagination. 
“Could've fooled me.”
“What do you mean by that?” You hate when he gives you cryptic answers, like it’s impossible to pry into his mind to see what he was thinking at the moment. 
“You knew you were coming to see me so I dont get why you're wearing that skimpy shit. Unless you wanted me to check you out.”
“Not everything is about you, Tomura. Maybe I just wanted to dress up and look nice.”
“Bullshit—”
“God, Tomura you always fucking do this!” You yell, walking right up into his face. The excitement in his scarlet eyes sends a chill up your spin, but you can’t back down. 
He gets closer, matching your tone and you can still see the grin he’s trying to hide. It makes you see red. “Do what? Tell you the truth? You know I’m not wrong.”
“Yeah, you think you know everything, but you don’t. I’m dressed up because I want to be, not because of you.” You’re insisting at this point, frustration threatening to tip over and spill out into the form of another pointless argument. Why did you think you could actually come over and have a decent conversation with him?
Tomura is a master at getting under your skin and hitting where it hurts. In all of your arguments he’s never really pulled out the big shots but you wouldn’t put it past him to do so now. 
“Oh, so you come over to my place dressed like a slut and you expect me to believe you don’t have some hidden motive?”
And there it is.
Your last straw. He could be so egotistical and mean — you’ve had it. 
You regret it the moment you do it, but your body moves before your brain can process your actions. You push Tomura. Hard. 
He doesn’t fall back far but you know it’s enough to piss him off. And he’s never been one to hold anything back, so he shoves you back and your back hits the wall. 
Tomura has you pinned before you know it and there’s a thrill that runs through your body in a way you know you shouldn’t be feeling. Your knees feel weak for reasons that are not related to fear and your panties were gradually becoming more wet. 
His voice is low and his eyes are narrowed as he pins you against the wall, pressing your cheeks together with his other hand. “You’re really starting to piss me off.”
You have to bite back a smile, knowing this has taken a turn and you aren’t strong enough to stop where it’s going. Not that you would want to. 
“Oh yeah? If I piss you off so badly then why are you hard?”
He doesn’t look down. He can feel his own arousal just as well as you can while it’s pressed against your abdomen. 
Tomura pushes off of you — maintaining some distance as he turns away. 
“You’re fucking annoying.”
“Sure am.” You supply, chipper and certain as you trail behind him. 
He’s walking further into the apartment, and you follow. Legs moving on their own accord as you go further into the lion's den, exchanging quips and insults. You jab your finger into his shoulder, bothered by the way he continues to ignore you, it's a pathetic attempt at catching his attention and it works. Kind of. 
The only response being him slapping your hand away with a glare and muttering a soft fuck off as he walked on. 
You both went back and forth. Like the sun and moon, you just can’t stay away from each other.  
It was how these things usually went between you and Tomura. He would start up, make a petty argument and you would never back down. Tomura is someone who was used to getting his way and others simply did what he said with no objections. 
But that was not how you were.
And he loved it.
You knew by the way he would get that devious glimmer in his eye when you would challenge a point, starting up a debate. Sometimes they were heated enough to make you both break up. It never lasted more than a few days. A week being the longest.
Push and pull. 
Tomura made his way past you again, ignoring your calls about how you hate being ignored. At this point you’re sure he’s doing it on purpose to rile you up more but you can’t help but take the bait. You grab his shoulder, forcing him to turn around and face you as you point a finger in his face. 
“Stop walking away from me!” 
He grabs your wrist and pulls you closer, making you stumble on your feet and almost lose balance. You were so close you could feel the heat from his body and smell the fresh linen scent of his shirt. “Don’t tell me what to do.” 
You snatch your wrist away from him, tension between you two growing hotter by the second as the space between you got thinner. 
“What are you going to do about it?” 
The narrowing of his eyes only made your grin grow wider as you watched the gears turn in his head as he thought about just how many things he would do about it. All of it enticed you, so you beat him to the punch. 
You reach forward again, fully intending to shove his shoulder again for another reaction, another glare, maybe even more words, but he stops you. It was fast, the way you both tumbled through the hallway as Tomura crashed his lips to yours. The relief of finally feeling his lips again meshed with the excitement of how rough he was with you. 
You lose yourself in the kiss, welcoming him in with open arms as you vaguely register the dark walls of his room and posters plastered along the walls in your scuffle.
It was exciting, probably the best part of breaking up and making up. At this point you think the whole point of falling apart is coming back together again. An endless cycle where the reward is worth the punishment. 
Cat and mouse. 
You end up on top of him, straddling his hips while your smug smile beams down at him. Tomura gives you an unamused look in return, yet the way his hands rested on your thighs gave away the ill hidden interest. It was all the encouragement you needed as you leaned down, hovering above him with both hands on his chest. 
“Not so tough now, are you?”
It’s bait. You know it’s bait, he knows it’s bait, but he takes it anyway — the way you knew he would. 
Tomura wastes no time flipping the both of you over, quickly reversing your positions as he settled himself between your legs. It’s dangerous the way his actions riled you up further, and you have to bite your lip to keep the smile from betraying your false anger. You couldn’t let him know how excited you were to be back in his bed. 
He presses your cheeks together and rocks your head left to right, tone mocking and eyes wild with fever, “Oh, look who’s become a firecracker all of the sudden. Where did that flame come from, huh?”
You want to respond, but Tomura beats you to it, releasing your cheeks and pointing a nimble finger against your forehead, “Don’t be dumb.”
His eyes trail from yours and then down to your lips, then finally down to your exposed cleavage. The movement was swift as he cupped one of your breasts in his hand and dipped down, claiming your lips again. It was softer than the first time but not by much, especially not when he matched his pace by grinding his clothed erection into you, making you moan at the contact. 
Your skirt was so short and it made you feel even more exposed than you already were. Tomura had easy access to you and the thin fabric of your panties made everything feel so much closer. 
You moan at the contact, swiping your tongue against Tomura’s bottom lip and wasting no time deepening the kiss as you pull him closer. You needed more and you needed it as soon as possible. 
Tomura pulled the low cut front of your shirt down, easily exposing your breasts from the confines of the shirt and massaged them, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against your nipples and making you cry out from the sensitivity. 
He pulls away from you, eyes gazing into yours and you swore in that moment he put you in a trance. Tomura’s ruby red gaze always left you mesmerized and you can’t help the whimper that leaves your lips, brows furrowed and eyes wanting, “Please.”
“Please what?” And he’s not taunting you, he’s not mocking you. His eyes are soft as he brings a hand to your cheek. “Tell me what you want.”
“You.” Fuck, you’ve missed him. “I just want you.”
There’s a hint of a smile on his face as he strokes your cheek, soft look in his eyes making your heart flutter, and then it’s gone. Replaced by a hardened gaze as he moves to remove your shirt and bra, fully exposing you to his hungry eyes, and then moves to remove your short skirt. 
His hands hover there for a moment, debating whether or not he should keep it on and fuck you in it, but then decides against the idea and pulls it off, taking your soaked panties down with it as well. 
The air in the room feels cool against your skin as you shiver in anticipation. 
“Fuck,” Tomura whispers, now eye level with your cunt. You gasp as he runs two fingers between your wet folds and holds the digits up to show you. Syrupy clear slick clung to them, slowly trailing down as Tomura rose back up, eye level with you once more. 
“You’re so wet…” He murmured, bringing the digits to your mouth and you opened, taking them into your mouth and tasting yourself. You kept eye contact as you watched his eyes widen in delight — Tomura loved it when you put on a show for him.
There’s another moment of Tomura pressing against your tongue with his fingers and then he pulls them out, opting for a kiss in exchange, his tongue dipping into your mouth and groaning  as he could taste what’s left of your slick on you as well.
The pleasant feeling and linguid action of your movements made your shoulders relax as you practically melted into his soft bed, the feeling of his body above yours bringing you mountains of comfort. It was a distraction, of course. 
You felt the same two of Tomura’s fingers prod at your slick entrance before pressing in fully and all the way down to the knuckle. The stretch was intense but the pressure was euphoric, making you squeeze your eyes shut and grip him closer. 
He didn’t make you wait long as he pumped his fingers, quickly finding that sensitive spot so deep inside of you that only he could pinpoint and brushing against it over and over. 
The feeling was so good it made you pull away from the kiss to breathe, thighs twitching and toes curling in pleasure. You wouldn’t last long like this.
“Tomura, fuck..!” You moaned, drowning in ecstasy as he continued his abuse of your spot, never letting up or slowing down, aiming to make you cum as quickly as he could. It was obvious he wanted you to come undone as soon as possible by the way he watched your every expression. 
The way your brows furrowed to the way you bit your lip. Tomura eagerly drank every expression and gave it back to you in the form of pleasure. 
“What?” He started, unphased by your dilemma, “Gonna cum?”
It took a lot of focus and effort, but you nod — done with fighting for the night and accepting the fact that you will come apart quickly. So you give in to the pleasure. 
Tomura smiles, a devious grin splitting his features as he curls his fingers, hitting the spot one more time for good measure and you lose composure, your climax crashing into you like a tidal wave. There was nothing you could do besides ride the feeling while holding on to Tomura tight — like you would get swept away if you didn’t. 
He fucks you through it with his fingers, eyes never leaving your face as you come down from your high. 
“Pent up, huh?” He questions, and this time there is that little hint of teasing. It brings you back to reality. 
Yes, you have been pent up. You haven’t been able to get off to anything since you’ve broken up and it’s been hell. 
You have no time for the games, you just want him and you want him now. 
So, you take Tomura’s face in your hands, making him look you in the eyes. The flecks of black in his carmine eyes always makes you remember why you come back. Every single time. 
“Fuck me, please, Tomura.” It's soft and filled with desire that you cannot be bothered to hide, and Tomura has never been one to deny you.
He quickly discards his own clothes, making sure to not stay away from you for long. His cock is hard and leaking precum from the head as he strokes it in preparation. You feel giddy at the thought and watch as he slides the head of his cock between your folds, coating it with your slick, and rubbing against your clit. The action makes your hips twitch up towards him. 
He loves to tease and make you wait, but today he doesn’t make you wait long. Tomura leans down after lining himself up with your entrance and places his free hand behind your head, right above the nape of your neck. His hands were warm and the feeling of those hands cradling your head felt so comforting in the space of his familiar dark bedroom. 
You bring a hand to his hair, tangling your fingers in his ashen locks as he pushes forward. The stretch makes you whimper and Tomura captures your lips in a kiss again, swallowing the noises and releasing a groan of his own as your walls tighten around his cock. 
There's something about the way Tomura drags his hips, the way he starts off at a slow pace, winding you up as he steadily increases his speed and force. It happens so gradually that you don't realize you’re screaming his name until he tells you to shut up — threatening to cover your mouth because he didn't want his neighbors to hear how much of a slut you were.
It drove you mad the way he said it all with a smile and fucked you harder. Almost daring you to be louder so he can punish you with a hand over your mouth.
Tomura knew how rough you liked it and he always delivered, giving you back arching pleasure as he pounded into you. It leaves you gasping and struggling to keep your voice down. Your hands find the surface of his back, trying to hold on as much as you could with building pleasure on the horizon. 
“Tomu— Tomura..! Please,” you cry and he doesn’t miss a beat, driving his cock so deep against your sweet spot it makes you see stars. “Fuck..!” 
“Yeah, that’s it.” Tomura cooed, eyes filled with mischief as he brought you closer to the edge. “Cry for me.”
And you do, your body feeling euphoric as the feeling buzzed up your spine and filled your brain with the fuzz of ecstasy. 
“What are you gonna do, huh?” He starts, his hips grinding against you, the closeness of his pelvis rubs against your clit, making you cry out again, “What are you gonna do when I breed this pretty cunt and make sure you’re stuck with me forever?”
He’s bluffing, you know Tomura doesn’t want kids. He’s just trying to gauge your reaction. Your dedication. 
“Tomura…” You only moan, breath catching as he hits that spot inside you that he knows so well. 
Tomura is smiling, wild and devious, as you look up at him with glossy eyes, so close to crying from the feelings, “I’m gonna do it. I’ll make you mine forever and you can’t do anything about it.” 
“Ah!” You should stop him, tell him to calm down but he has your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your back arching off of the bed. Everything is blurring together and you can only slur words as the drool from your earlier kiss trails down your cheek. 
You are completely at his mercy like this and you know your friends would be beyond disappointed.  
It just feels so good the way his cock drags in and out of your body pulling moans and whines from your throat. He was relentless in the way he pounded into you — beyond the point of being soft and slow because he knows that’s exactly you like it. 
“Say you want it.” The command comes with the slowing of his hips and you whine, high and needy as Tomura slows to a near stop.
“Tomura, I—“
“Say you want it or I swear to god I’ll stop right now.” It’s a threat and you don’t want to find out if he’ll go through with it. Tomura never goes back on his word. 
“No, please, don’t— I want it!” you pant, frustrated and aching for more movement.
“I want you to,” you stammer, desperate to have your release. “I don’t care if you cum in me. I need you so bad.”
“That’s my girl,” He coos, dipping his head down onto your shoulder, “Fuck.. love you s’much”
You stop — you’ve never heard him say that. Ever. You doubted he would ever say it since it’s been so long. 
He doesn’t give you a chance to ruminate on it because he's picking up the pace again and giving you the friction you were so deeply in need of. The feelings are swimming in your head as your cries reach new heights. Tomura is too far gone to stop you or care and you’re thankful. You couldn’t stop yourself if you tried. 
The build of your orgasm crashes down and sends you with it, making your thighs quiver in pleasure and your eyes squeeze shut. Tomura’s mouth meets yours before you could cry out, the warmth of his tongue guiding you as he fucked you through it. 
He didn’t last long after, the way your walls tightened around him with the force of your orgasm has Tomura’s pace erratic as he chased his own high. 
The bed shook as Tomura finally finished, hips stuttered as he released inside of you, hot seed coating your insides and making heat rise to your cheeks. He really did it.
You watch as he slows to a stop above you, his eyes closed as he enjoys the feeling of release. Tomura’s breathing was heavy and you couldn’t stop yourself from bringing him down into another kiss, traveling from his lips to his cheeks and then back again. 
It was intimate and you were worried it may have been too much, given the reason you were both in this situation was because of a stupid breakup. 
Tomura’s pulls out of you, making you wince and taking the feeling of being so full away from you. He doesn’t go far, opting to stay on top of you and rest his head on your shoulder, wanting to keep you as close as possible. 
“You really piss me off.” He mumbles into your shoulder, out of breath and tired. “God, why can’t you just stay with me.”
“Tomura…” Your hands run through his hair, the sweat is making it stick to his forehead as you wait for him to keep talking. 
“Stop leaving me.” His voice is firm, unwavering.
“You told me to go.” 
“I didn’t think you fucking would. I would never actually want you to.”
“I can’t read between the lines Tomura, I’m not in your head.” You make him look at you this time, pulling his hair a little to get him to raise his head. “Did you mean it?”
“I just said I didn’t—“
“No, the other thing you said.” He gives you a look of pure confusion and you lose a little bit of hope, “when you said you loved me?” 
You stare into his carmine eyes, hoping, praying it wasn’t just pillow talk from the heat of the moment. 
He looks at you for a long time, frustration still wearing on his features. If you didn’t know any better you would say he was pouting. “Of course I meant it. I’ve always felt like that.”
“But you’ve never said it!”
“I show it!”
“How?” This is getting frustrating and going in circles. 
He groans, sitting up and taking his warmth with him. “I’m not going to sit here and list everything I’ve ever done for you. I don’t think it works like that.”
You open your mouth to counter, irritation on your tongue because that’s not what you meant, but Tomura stops you again. 
“I don’t know how to explain it, okay?” He shakes his head and sighs, laying next to you on the bed and looking up at his ceiling. “It’s weird. I have these strong feelings, but it’s not hate, it's not anger. It's the opposite of that.”
You stare at him as he focuses ahead, keeping his eyes trained on the uninteresting ceiling above.
“Father said it’s a weakness and I should feel that way but,” There’s a pause as he looks away from the ceiling, meeting your eyes finally, “if it’s so weak of me, then why are the feelings so strong?” 
Your heart aches. It's clear that he’s torn, and with the strange way he was raised you know that he can’t help the way he is. 
“Tomura…” 
“And it won’t go away. I can’t fight them down or push them away like I can with everything else. It eats me up and I… guess I lash out because of it.” He shakes his head and for the first time Tomura looks defeated. You’ve never seen him this way — he’s always been filled with confidence and self assured. “I just don’t know what to do.”
You bring a hand to his cheek as you press your forehead against his. It kills you that this is what’s been on his mind and you aren’t sure what you could do to fix it. Maybe there was nothing you could do, physically, but you would do your best to be there for him emotionally.
“Sometimes,” you try to be careful with your words, knowing how much Tomura looks up to his foster father even though the man has been nothing but strange to him. “People say things that aren’t true because they don’t know how to live with it.”
Tomura’s guardian cannot live with love nor the idea of it. 
“That doesn't mean you have to live that way.” 
And it’s the truth. 
Tomura doesn’t say anything, just watches you with heavy lidded eyes, ruby red nearly glowing in the low light of the room. He was so much more than what people thought they knew of him and you didn’t care if it took time for others to see that.
He leans in, closing his eyes and you meet him halfway into a kiss. 
It's warm and it's soft and you know that even when your phone is buzzing from dozens of missed calls and texts from your friends, it will be fine. 
You and Tomura would take things one day at a time.
3K notes · View notes
strawberrymochin · 4 months ago
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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blaire-apricity · 1 month ago
Text
Ransom and Chocolate Cakes
sʏʟᴜs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
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ᯓ❅ ┆ synopsis┆ : POV: You decided to kidnap a certain mechanical crow
ᯓ❅ ┆ tags┆ : short fiction, soft, fluff & possible OOC
ᯓ❅ ┆ credits & prompt┆ : original author & original post
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It was just an ordinary day for Sylus—at least, for him. He sat propped against the headboard of his bed, one hand holding a book while the other adjusted his glasses. The manor was eerily quiet, with neither the twins nor his mechanical bird in sight, though he found the silence liberating. It was a rare break from the usual noise that filled the halls.
The soft buzz of his phone disrupted the stillness. Without much thought, he reached for it from the bedside table, glancing at the caller ID. A small smirk tugged at his lips when he saw who it was.
Before he could say anything, her voice broke through—pouty, with an unmistakable air of mischief but no real threat behind it. “I’ve kidnapped Mephisto,” she announced, sounding almost rehearsed.
A raspy chuckle escaped him, more of a scoff than a laugh. "Is there a reason you’ve kidnapped Mephisto, sweetie?" he asked, closing his book and placing it in his lap, now fully invested in the conversation.
“I demand a ransom,” she replied, her voice slightly muffled, as if she were cuddling something soft—a pillow or a plushie, he imagined. “Chocolate cake and snuggles. If you want him back unharmed, you’d better come over soon.”
Sylus shook his head, already piecing together the cause of her sudden demands. With a swipe on his phone, he checked the calendar before returning it to his ear. “Did your period start today?” he asked knowingly.
There was a pause. “… No,” she finally replied, but the delay and tone gave her away and it only made Sylus smile wider, totally unconvinced.
He chuckled again, entertained by her antics. “Alright, I’ll be right over. Just make sure Mephisto stays alive for me, sweetie.”
“Okay,” she answered, her voice followed by a quick shuffling sound as if she stood up to check on something. “Mephisto’s fine. He’s eating popcorn and watching Hallmark Christmas movies with me.”
Sylus hummed in amusement. There was another moment of quiet before she spoke up again, her voice carrying a hint of uncertainty. “Can mechanical crows even eat? Is he allowed to have popcorn?”
A smirk touched his lips. “Not exactly.”
“Oh… shoot,” she muttered under her breath, likely glancing worriedly at the bird now pecking at the popcorn she’d made.
“Don’t worry, it won’t hurt him. I’ll be there in twenty minutes, and I’ll bring every type of chocolate cake you can dream of,” Sylus reassured, standing up, preparing to leave and rescue his mechanical crow from the whims of his mischievous kitten.
“…Okay...” she trailed off, her voice softer, almost hesitant, and it made him pause. He waited, knowing she wasn’t done. After a few seconds, she added, “…Can you also rub my tummy? Your hands make a good heating pad.”
Her tone was almost sheepish, and Sylus couldn’t help but smile to himself. “Yes, sweetie. I’ll rub your stomach—and anything else you need. See you soon."
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╰。 Author's Note: Before anyone lunges at me, I've gotten permission from the author themselves, giving me a go signal to create an inspired piece of their original prompt. •`ヮ´• So I went ahead and did one! Credits are above, both their Tumblr link and the post they wonderfully created! Thank you once again, @missaengg! ( •̯́ ₃ •̯̀)
Yes, I know I've stated it a while ago, I had a sudden burst of motivation and I finished it within 3 hours and in one sitting- HAHA
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crushedbyhyperbole · 9 months ago
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Whiskey on the Tongue
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: You are the forbidden fruit Dean had always wanted to taste, and when you steal his whiskey the way you do, he is powerless to resist.
Words: 2.2k
A/N: This is my first ever Supernatural fic after having started watching the show just before Christmas. I know I'm late to the game but is it ever really too late to start loving a fandom? I've tried to make the reader generic in every way other than being cis-female, and Dean finding her hot.
It's been an absolute age since I wrote anything and probably longer since I posted anything here on Tumblr but I'm getting back into it now. Hopefully this finds its way to people in the Supernatural fandom who love a bit of Dean smut.
I hope you enjoy and, as always, I value your comments and feedback.
Warnings: Smut, explicit smut, alcohol consumption, mentions of people who have passed away, profanity as standard with pretty much everything I write.
*** Minors do not read or interact - 18+ content ***
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Dean let his head fall back against the headboard, clenching his fists to try to distract himself from the deep ache in his left leg.  It had been falling asleep for well over an hour now, but he didn’t want to move and disturb you.
The door to his room in the bunker was closed.  Locked, in fact, though he did not remember doing it.  You didn’t comment or so much as move when Sam brayed on the door and tried the handle, calling out for Dean to return his book.  The very book that was in your hands right now.
“I need that book back, Dean.”  Sam grumbled.
“Not now, Sammy!”  Dean called back, hoping his little brother would just go away.
“I’m researching Nephilim to help Cas with the Kelly situation, Dean.  It’s important.”  Sam became more insistent.
“I said NOT NOW, SAM!”  Dean hollered with a kind of finality that even Sam wouldn’t argue with.
Outside the door, Sam huffed and stalked away.  Dean looked down to see you looking up at him from your position, lay on his bed.  Your head was resting on his left calf, his leg bent with his foot tucked under his right knee.  You had your knees up with your foot tapping along to his banging playlist, your jeans tight around your thighs and with your head tilted back he could see all the way down the deep V of your t-shirt.
He was going to hell.  Straight there.  Do not pass go.  Do not collect two hundred dollars.  And he probably deserved it.
He snapped his eyes up towards the ceiling but it was too late, he could feel himself stirring uncomfortably in his jeans.  If Bobby was alive he would have skinned him raw just for having you in his room.  Bobby was always protective of you, his niece.  You were only a couple of years younger than Sam but Bobby had made himself very clear that you were off limits.
“If you touch one single hair on her body, I’ll make you regret the day your balls dropped.  Do you hear me, boy?”
Bobby Singer.  That man did not mince his words.  And to this day, Dean had taken that threat as gospel.  Even now that Bobby was up there with the Angels, that son of a bitch would find a way to keep his word.
You shifted, causing a painful twang to shoot up his leg.  The reflexive grunt he failed to stifle made you look back up at him, giving him that glorious view again.
Dean decided he could die like this.  If having a dead leg was a legitimate threat to his life, he would go out happy with the view of your rack in that lacy black bra he could see within the V-shaped window of that too-tight t-shirt.
He raised his eyes, once again to heaven, asking Bobby to forgive him or give him strength or something because – god help him – he wanted to take you right then and there.
It wasn’t unusual for you to seek him out after a case when you didn’t want to be alone, but you didn’t want to talk.  You would just sit while he drank, reading or working on spells.  You said he quieted the noise in your head.  Hell, he wasn’t going to argue, you were a sight for sore eyes every time he came home.  You were wicked hot and sexy in a non-slutty way.  Not that slutty was bad.  Dean liked slutty.  But that wasn’t you, you were different.
A drink.  That’s what was missing.  Dean needed a damn drink, especially if you were going to torture him by laying on him all evening.
He reached over to his bedside unit, for the bottle he kept in there for special occasions.  A bottle of twenty-five-year-old Speyside single malt that he liberated from the British Men of Letters on his last interaction with Ketch.
The pour made you stir again but it wasn’t until he raised the cut crystal tumbler to his lips did you move.  Your hand came up and claimed the glass from underneath, twisting it as you sat up so as not to spill any.
“Where’s yours?”
The cheeky glint in your eye had him pursing his lips in mild annoyance.
“Don’t pout.”  You lifted the glass, turning it until the mark left by his lips touched yours and you sipped, looking him straight in the eye.
Dean’s jaw went slack.  The glisten of the whiskey on your lips and the satisfied hum you made when you swallowed – he swallowed unconsciously when you did – made his mouth go dry.  He had never seen you like this.
You moved to kneel on the bed and walked your way slowly closer, giving his leg a tap; an instruction to move it aside.  He did, causing pins and needles to infest his nerves like ants swarming on a log to escape a flood.
Knelt between his spread legs, you brought the glass to your lips again, sipping at the amber liquid.  You leaned in.
Dean watched you, breathing shallow, attention rapt.  You hadn’t so much as touched him, yet every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire in the best possible way.  The closer you got the shallower he breathed until he was almost holding his breath, looking down his nose at how close your lips were.  His eyelashes looked to flutter against his cheeks just as yours did when you brushed your whiskey dappled lips against his.
He refused to lick where you had been.  He couldn’t.  As soon as he tasted, he would pounce, and…
“Don’t.”  He croaked out when you moved to lay your lips on him once more.
You looked confused but at least you didn’t look hurt.  He couldn’t bear it if you looked hurt because of him.
“Bobby…”  Was all he could say through his constricting throat.
You smiled then, full of amusement, lips brushing against his, you whispered “he’ll understand.”
Dean tried not to respond to you but you coaxed his lips apart and teased your tongue to meet his, short circuiting his brain.  The taste of the scotch and the sweetness of your mouth made him groan.  He had fantasised about having you for years, but never did he think it would be you seducing him.
His hands on your hips guided you roughly to straddle him, the bulge in his jeans pushing up against you as you settled.  He took the glass from your hands and downed the contents, his eyes on yours as he dropped the glass carelessly on the bedside unit.
Your lips met his again but this time you devoured each other, tongues stroking together, moans stifled by each other’s mouths.  He trailed his hands up your body, dragging your t-shirt along with them.  Finally, he could see what he had been having glimpses of this whole evening.  Plush breasts cupped in scant lace that was completely impractical for a hunt, Dean realised, like you had meant to come here like this.  You had intended this from the beginning.
He tore at the lace, dragging it under your breasts to free them, shoulder straps slipped down.  Pawing at them like he had never touched a tittie before, all he wanted to do was suck and nip and nibble.
Your breathy sigh was divine, and the moan that followed was filthy.  You cupped the back of his head as he took your nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, pressing him further, asking for more.
While he worked on your breasts you undid his belt and fly, reaching into the front of his shorts to release him from the awkward angle at which he was trapped.  You stroked him, firm but slow, feeling him for the first time.  You had always wondered what he had going on down there that every woman he had ever been with would come back for more at the drop of a hat.  You weren’t disappointed.
Dean lifted his hips, you thought to allow you to push his jeans down but instead he flipped you, making you squeal.  Once under him, he ravished your breasts anew, pinching one nipple hard while licking and sucking the other.  Soon you were a mewling mess, hips writhing, begging for something he hadn’t given you yet.  Excited that he had taken control away from you, you watched him sit up and yank your jeans down, lifting your legs until they were bare.  Your knickers followed and he spread your legs without preamble, lowering himself between your thighs until his hair and eyes were all you could see above your mound.
“Jesus Christ of Nazareth!”
You groaned as he suckled against your sensitive spot.  Fuck, he was good with his tongue.  Everything about him was good except his image.  Bad boy Dean Winchester.  He was every woman’s wet dream.  He had been your wet dream since you were seventeen.  But now you were plenty old enough and finally getting what you wanted.
Bobby had told you to stay away from him when you were a kid.  Dean had a reputation as a ladies man even then, but he respected your uncle Bobby enough to keep his distance… until now.
Dean dipped two fingers inside, creating pressure in exactly the right spot.  You gasped and gripped his hair as your pleasure began to crest, tugging on it for dear life.  He looked up at you then, to see your eyes closed against the intensity of it, neck and face flushed red with your oncoming orgasm.  When it came, the pulsing of your core was his sign to slow down.  He left off his suckling and stroked you through the pleasure, watching you all the while.  You were a beautiful mess.
“That’s my girl.”  He praised you in that deep rough tone you adored, helping prolong your climax until you took his hand away yourself.  “Are you ready for me?”
You nodded, allowing him to lift your knees up and stroke the weeping tip of his cock over your swollen clit.
From the front pocket of the jeans he still wore, he pulled a foil packet with Trojan embossed on it.  He was swift with its application, aiming his tip just so.
When he slid home, your eyes rolled back and you reached to grip his forearms.  It was something Dean would never get tired of seeing but it felt that much different with you.  You were the forbidden thing he had always wanted but could never have.  Even now he didn’t know whether he would come to regret this.  God, he hoped not.
Balls deep in you, he leaned forward to kiss you, wrapping your legs around his hips.  His instinct was to fold you in half and pound the living shit out of you, but you were already overwhelmed and he wanted to make this soft for you.
“Tell me what you need.”  He spoke softly as he nuzzled your neck.
“Just you, like this.”  You sighed.  Who knew Dean Winchester was a considerate lover.
His slow, measured thrusts brought you closer to the edge, your core fluttering each time, he could feel it.  It surprised him how quickly is climax built at this pace, but the added connection you both shared seemed to turn him on.  He would never give up Busty Asian Babe porn but he could get used to this with you.
You didn’t close your eyes against the pleasure this time, you watched him come undone above you, gasping as his orgasm made his legs and arms shake, muscles clenched tight to keep his weight from collapsing on you.  When he swelled you dug your fingers into his hips to pull him deeper with each stroke, and when he spilled you also came, eyes fluttering shut finally.
Dean knelt up, slipping the rubber off as soon as he was clear of you and, tying a knot in the end, tossed it in the direction of the trash can.
“Shot.”  You said with a smile as the sticky bundle went straight in the can.
He quirked and eyebrow and give you a slightly smug lopsided smirk that said:  What can I say?  I don’t miss.
When you moved to sit, he stopped you.
“Here, lemme get that.”
“Thanks.”
He stripped his t-shirt off and used it to clean up the wetness between your legs.  Though none of it was his, it would still dribble when you moved.  Afterwards he tucked it under your ass and flopped down on the bed at your side, moving his arm behind your head so you could rest it on his chest.  You were both content.  Both had goofy grins on your faces.  Both disbelieving that you had finally gotten what you wanted.
A loud knock at the door started you.
“Are you done?”  Sam said.  “I need that book.”
“NO!”  You and Dean shouted back in unison, laughing afterwards.
“Bobby’s gonna kill you.”  Sam called back through the door.
“I KNOW!”  Dean yelled gruffly, pulling you closer.
There might be a time in the future where the ghost of Bobby Singer came to make him regret the day his balls dropped and, if it happened, Dean would be happy to see him again.  In the meantime, you and he could work on a whole bunch of reasons to make the cranky old bastard come down from up high for a visit.
Dean pulled the sheets over both of your heads, nibbling at your neck until you moaned his name.  Aside from the roar of Baby’s engine, he had found his new favourite sound.
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miss-oranje-disco-dancer · 5 months ago
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give me your heart, make it real
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pairing: javier peña x reader
tags/cw: smut, f! receiving oral, p in v, undercover as lovers, big dick javi, no use of y/n, no reader physical description, gentle lover javi
summary: javi needs a 'date' to a party (where escobar and crew will be idk), and asks reader to help him by dressing up in a 'slutty' outfit (not his words)
a/n: okay, yes, the title is from smooth by santana ft. rob thomas (on my javi-coded spotify playlist even tho it came out post-narcos). i've only made it to s2 ep4 and slept thru s1 ep8-10, so i've been committing the crime of not knowing the lore (i am so down bad for javi it's insane)
wc: 3.8k
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"I have a lead, and you're coming with me," Javi says, already ushering you out of the room.
"You can't just whisk me away - I have to ask Messina."
"Messina gave me the go-ahead."
"I still need to-" You try to walk away from him but his hand loosely holds your arm, and before you break free, Messina says, approaching from behind, "Go with Agent Peña."
It must be a good lead if she's so quick to send you off with Peña. He looks you over, and says, "You can't wear that. How quickly can you change?"
"Into my tactical gear?"
"No, into a dress."
"Whose quinceañera are we attending?"
"Funny. I have intel about a party happening this evening. You're going to be my date. I need you in a dress - the shorter the better - and makeup, lots of it."
"You want me to look like a hooker?"
"Something like that."
You expect Javi to drop you off at your apartment, but he follows you in – he tries to follow you all the way to your bedroom, but you stop him. Maybe he’s just running on instinct, not used to having a woman invite him into her home without the intention of sex.
"Go sit in the living room," you scoff, pushing him away. "Make yourself at home." You keep your tone sarcastic to avoid letting any nervousness creep into your voice.
You're not supposed to look pretty, per se. He's expecting slutty, and yet, you still worry about looking too slutty in front of Javi. You've made a conscious effort to keep every interaction between the two of you professional, and you are determined to keep it that way. While you cake your face in cosmetics, you remind yourself that you would not go to such lengths for Javi. This is not for Javi, this is for a nobler cause than landing in his good graces. You’re fulfilling your duties as an agent on a mission to stop a narcoterrorist, and that paycheck better arrive at the end of month or you’ll be forced to get on your knees for your landlord who is not quite as handsome as Javi.  
Yes, that’s right, Javi is handsome, disgustingly so. You loathe him, not for his sex appeal itself but for his awareness of such, not for the fact that he could leverage it against you, but for the fact that he thinks he can. He can.
Javier Peña sees all women the same way - not quite as objects, but conquests. Even if you're someone, rather than something, you're still someone he could have. But you don't bend to his will, at least you haven't yet, and that's the one thing you hold over him.
Your brain is logical, and holds you to a higher standard. This has nothing to do with desire, but simple facts put into an equation that gives you a clear output. Every time the illogical part of you that lives between your thighs begs for attention, your mind reminds you of your current mantra: Javi is a walking, talking, fucking bad idea.
The red lipstick and minidress are going to get you one step closer to catching Escobar, and if it means you have to be Javi's date for a night, then it's a challenge you're willing to take.
Maybe pretending to like him will be easier than pretending not to like him, which is something you've struggled to do every day for months.
It will not be, you realize, when he whistles at you from the couch when you step out of your bedroom, all dolled up.
"I'm carrying my gun in my purse," you say - an empty threat. 
"Good girl."
"Say it one more time, Peña," you warn him, pulling your lethal weapon from a tacky, dated clutch. Your grip on it is weak and the safety is on. He mirrors your gesture, lazily pointing his own gun at you.
But he keeps his mouth shut.
Between the two of you, who's the better shot? You hope you'll never have to find out.
Javi shamelessly flirts his way around the office, but his arm around your waist is purely professional as he guides you from the car, parked a safe distance away, to your destination.
"You don't speak Spanish, you respond to 'chica', and you definitely do not have a gun on you. Got it?"
"What do you want me to call you?"
"As long as it's not my name, whatever you want, chica."
"Asshole."
Playing dumb is more fun than you thought it'd be. The wandering eyes of drug lords make you feel icky, but you don't have to respond when they speak to you. You don’t have to prove your intelligence to every man you encounter, every man who will make you take on any task they can’t handle, don’t have time for, or simply can’t be bothered to do. You don't have to do shit for once.
You keep a drink in your hand as a part of the act. Party girls like you drink, right? Honestly, you’re dead set on keeping your hands full in the hopes that you won’t be given the opportunity to do a line, inevitably refuse such an opportunity, and risk being outed as someone on the other side of this war. Javi doesn't need to tell you to pour your own drink - it's a lesson all girls are taught from a young age. Training as a federal agent may have taught you sharpshooting, but your mother told you how to avoid getting roofied.
You have a tolerance built up thanks to picking alcohol as one of your favorite vices back in college, but you know how to act drunk. While you sway a little, Javi tightens his grip on your waist to keep you grounded. You pretend not to understand when he mentions to a small group of men that you might be down for more than one man tonight, he just needs to get you warmed up first. He sounds a little too comfortable saying those words, and you doubt it's just good acting. Regardless, they seem more than happy to hear about the possibility of getting in bed with you.
"What's everyone talking about?" You slur your words and smile stupidly.
"Don't worry about it, chica," Javi says with a sly look to a man you hope you won't actually have to sleep with.
You swear you see a twinkle of something in Javi's brown eyes as they meet yours.
You realize what that something is when he surprises you by capturing your lips in a searing kiss, daring to slip his tongue in your mouth. His hand sliding downwards says, 'just go with it'. You kiss him back, pulling his hair as he grabs your ass. You know he's putting on a show, but his touch makes you feel something all too real.
You swear you hear a whistle, it's likely directed at the two of you but the hustle and bustle of chatter covers up what the onlookers are saying. Javi hears enough to know that his plan is working.
'Get a room,' they say.
'Do you have a spare?' he asks.
Too drunk for their own good and too horny at the sight in front of them, the leader offers one up.
Your embarrassment is real – you're not hiding a winning smile underneath like Javi is. You're directed to a bedroom, and resisting the urge to scope the room immediately, Javi lays you flat on the bed and climbs on top of you, pinning your arms above your head - and, making you wetter than you'd ever tell him. He's keeping you from pushing him away until the door shuts and he tones things down.
He whispers into your ear when he's sure the man who led you here is far enough away that he can drop the act for a moment, "You're going to do what I say. No questions asked. Are we clear?"
You nod, terrified and knowing he's the only one you can trust in this place. With less shame than one might expect, he shows you what to do, getting you to mimic him. He sucks on his own fingers and you follow blindly, he pulls up the bottom of his shirt and slaps his skin while bouncing on the bed just enough that it creaks, rhythmically, like you're – oh, you understand.
Then, he whispers in your ear, "moan for me," and you do. "Perfect, just like that," he says, and you're no longer praying that you don't get caught by the cartel, but that you don't get caught by Javi. "That's good, keep going," he says, and god, you couldn't stop it if you wanted to.
You've forgotten everything else he's said, so he takes your hand and slides it up your dress, slapping the skin of your thighs and then grabs your hips to bounce them up and down. You whimper at the loss of his touch - all thoughts other than 'Javi' have left your head. He starts searching the room for evidence of anything case-related, and you continue to suck, moan, bounce, slap your skin, pretend to fuck the man in front of you because he wants you to, because he told you to keep going.
You watch Javi's back - as you should. You watch his arms, the way his jeans fit perfectly, the shape of his nose as he turns to his side and you can see his profile, his focused eyes.
You imagine his eyes looking over your body, his nose tickling your skin, those jeans coming off, his arms caging you in while he's on top of you. You hope the bed's not slick with arousal. 
Don't touch yourself. But, he's not looking. Maybe you can pass it off as dedication to the cause. Don't. Don't. Don't.
When he finds what he needs, he takes what he can, receipts and encoded notes, and he shoves them down his pants. You watch him readjust. He sees, and gives you a look of 'what?'. He ruffles his hair, unbuttons his top two buttons, making himself look disheveled. Then, he licks thumb and runs in under your eyes, smudging your eyeliner and with the other, your lipstick. As if he's practiced, he wipes the excess red on his lips.
You look stunned, he looks satisfied. Everyone stares when you leave but for all the wrong reasons. They have no idea what went on in that room. Javi has no idea either. It's your own little secret.
When you make it to the safety of Javi’s car, you sigh, relaxing into the passenger seat, and he says, "Thank you. You did really well back there. I could just kiss you right now - for real."
You know what he means. It's another thank you, maybe even I'm proud of you. But he’s still giving you an opportunity. It has to be intentional. 
"Then, do it. I dare you."
He could make a joke but he doesn't, he smiles and does as he said. He kisses you, and his lips parting slightly is the offer. When your tongue meets his, he knows, he must know.
"We should celebrate," he says. "Wanna come back to my place?"
You agree, even though you should know by now that going home with Javi is risky business at best.
Javi is enough of a gentleman to offer you a drink before suggesting you move things to the bedroom. All he has is whiskey, and while it's not your favorite, you decide the liquid courage is worth the taste.
"To us," Javi says, raising his glass before tapping it against yours. Sure, you're supposed to look into each other's eyes when you tap your glass against his, but the look you share says something beyond the toast. He might as well have winked at you. The tension is palpable, and you become increasingly aware of Javi's experience in this field - he may hold superiority to you in the DEA due to his extra years working for the agency, but what intimidates you is not that, but his body count, which is surely dozens above yours.
But then again, how much of the sex he has is with prostitutes? Is he even a good fuck? Maybe that's why he pays for sex. No, you've heard rumors being passed around throughout the DEA, and unless Javi pays for reviews too, he's good, great even.
"Are you in there, querida?" His head is cocked to the side in a way that lets you know he's been trying to get your attention for awhile.
"Oh yeah, I was just thinking." 
"Anything interesting? I thought I was going to have to shake you."
"No, my mind's just…"
"Elsewhere?"
"Yeah, you could say that."
"Mine too." He places his glass on the table. "You did very well today. Have you ever acted before?"
"No, not really."
"You're a natural, then, because it was pretty convincing."
You think you've gotten away with it until you see the glint in his eye.
"It helps when you're… inspired," you say with a coy grin.
"Inspired? Is that what they're calling it now?"
"I don't wanna say it. It's embarrassing."
"You don't have to, it was pretty obvious how you felt."
It's good that you've had a drink or two because you'd be running out of the room in embarrassment if you hadn't. You're not as practiced as some of the girls he's been with, and it's probably obvious, but you're not a virgin either. You're also not an idiot. This is going in the direction you've always wanted it to - towards his bedroom.
Javi leans in, and whispers into the shell of your ear, "I didn't give you the tour of my apartment, did I?"
His hot breath on your skin sends chills down your spine, but you pretend to be barely-fazed. "Mm-mm, you haven't."
"Do you wanna see my bedroom?"
"Yeah, I'd like that."
He takes your hand and helps you up, and though you’ve felt his hands before, you notice the way one of his can envelop yours. He kisses you, soft and sweet, he kisses you, passionate and feverish, he kisses you with purpose, walking you backwards in the direction of his bedroom. He can tell you're nervous about the possibility of knocking into things so he assures you, "Don't worry. I know my way around. I won't let you get hurt."
"You come here often?"
You get a laugh out of him, light and genuine, but most of all rare. "Not as often as I should."
You find that his grip on you is looser than it was in public. There's nothing to protect you from here. It's just Peña, your colleague. It's just Javi, the man you've seen in the risque dreams you have too frequently to write them off as a misfire in your subconscious.
If someone had asked you with a gun to your head if you thought Javier Peña would be a gentle lover, you'd be dead. And if you are, then you made it to heaven.
He slides your zipper down carefully and lets you slip out of your dress, insisting on abiding by the rule of 'ladies first' when you try to unbutton his shirt. Your fingers shake as you restrain yourself against the urge to rip the fabric, so he replaces your hands with his own. His belt is gone too by the time he sits down on the edge of the bed, hands holding yours while he gazes at you in your bra and panties.
"Do you dress like this under your work clothes every day or was this for your 'costume?'"
"I wanted to do a good job playing my part. I didn't know if I'd need to take off my dress."
"But you were willing to if I'd asked you?"
"You told me to do whatever you said."
"But you could've told me to 'fuck off'. Did you want me to see you like this? Is it possible that you wanted to look pretty for me?"
"You're very good at interrogations, Peña. You would make a good cop."
He keeps his laughter contained, but there's a hint of a smile on his lips when he says, "You're going to call me, 'Javi' when you're in my bed. Are we clear?"
You salute him just to push his buttons, and it works, he pulls you into his lap and holds you there. You love his tight jeans for the way they allow you to feel how hard he is right now.
"So fucking gorgeous," he mutters as his kisses trail down your neck. He undoes your bra with one hand and you brace yourself for impact, dying to feel his mouth on your newly-exposed skin.
You would never have expected his skin to be so soft. His hands are calloused and he has wrinkles between his eyebrows, but his broad shoulders are perfectly smooth. You feel like apologizing preemptively for the marks you might leave.
But Javi flips you onto your back and you see a flash of hunger in his eyes. He's wanted this for a long time too.
"When you were moaning for me earlier, I couldn't stop wondering if that's what you'd sound like if I touched you like this."
'Like this' means one hand slipping into your panties and playing with your clit while the other thumb runs over your nipple. You take a sharp inhale of breath and try not to moan loudly but end up letting out a whimper that must sound awfully pathetic.
"Even prettier," he says, as his voice gets further away and you realize he's getting on his knees.
You must be dead. You must've died at that party because this is too perfect to be true.
He places gentle kisses on the inside of each of your thighs before slipping off your panties.
"Javi." Breathy and urgent, it’s an admission of your arousal. 
"Querida?" 
Your voice trembles as you tell him the secret you've been keeping. "When I was 'acting', I had to stop myself from saying your name."
"You were such a good girl."
His lips ghost over your clit before he presses a light kiss to your skin. You're so desperate you could cry. You let his name slip out now that you're alone.
"You're still a good girl."
One finger slips inside you like a reward and his tongue circles your clit. You swear he can hear your thoughts - "I'm sorry I pulled a gun on you earlier when you called me that. You make me feel flustered all the time, so much that you piss me off". He groans into your core as if to say, "It's okay. I already knew that".
But then your brain turns to mush and all that's left is, "Javi, Javi, Javi." And his response is to put your legs over his shoulders and slip another finger inside you. He can tell you're struggling against the pleasure, gripping his bedsheets in a desperate attempt to avoid tugging his hair. His unoccupied hand finds one of yours, coaxing you into holding it. The tenderness only heightens the pleasure.
"I know, cariño, just let go for me. I've got you."
The safest you've ever been is with Javi next to you. Safe enough to keep you alive, safe enough for you to cry out his name without fear. You come down from the most intense orgasm of your life, panting with Javi's hands stroking your sides before lifting your legs so he can climb into bed beside you.
Without a thought left in your head, your eager hands reach for the button of his jeans, but he stops you. "Are you sure about this?"
"Of course. I'm in your bed, aren't I?"
"But your legs are shaking, querida. You need a minute to relax."
"I want you."
"I'll still be here in five minutes."
He comes back with water and a condom and you understand why women sleep with him.
He bargains with you - you drink some water and he takes his pants off. He doesn't intend to make a show of it, but you marvel at his body, now fully on display in front of you. The dryness in your mouth reminds you of the cold glass in your hand, which you down, equal parts nervous and aroused at the sight of his cock.
Javi notices the genuine concern in your eyes – surely women have looked at him with the same hesitant desire. In response to the unspoken, he strokes your cheek with a sweetness that makes you blush. "We'll go slow."
He sinks into you slowly, incrementally. His length strokes a particularly sensitive spot inside you that makes your walls tighten around him, and you can feel his hips jerk in response, self-restraint wavering as he holds himself back from fucking you roughly.
Once he bottoms out, he stops and lets you savor the feeling of being full. His lips still red and puffy from their time spent between your thighs, find yours and he kisses you with a fervor that cannot be sustained when you're both breathing so heavily.
"Javi, I need you," you whine.
"You have me."
"I need you to f–" he starts thrusting in and out of you while you speak, forcing you to cut yourself off with a moan.
The way he groans is gorgeous. He sets a steady pace and gets lost in the feeling. The urge to be closer to you takes over and he has you sitting in his lap within seconds. His hands cup your ass and allow him to move you as he pleases.
Your words in his ear are less than coherent when you bury your face in his neck. His teeth graze the skin on your shoulders and in the back of your mind you know you should worry about the marks he might leave, but the desire to be his, to remember that you had something even for a moment overtakes you. So, you throw your head back and give him access to a greater expanse of your skin.
Arousal fills you with a jolt of energy, giving you a boost in stamina, and you leverage yourself on Javi's shoulders and take over the work of sliding his cock between your wet folds, hips erratic and faltering. 
You don’t need to tell him how close you are, he can tell. He’s seen you cum before, he’s tasted it. 
"Me too," he says. It's more intense than the first one - you keep your eyes open with sheer willpower because you need to know what he looks like when he cums. There's a fair chance you won't see him like this again and you need to keep his beautiful 'o' face in your spank bank.
But what slips from his lips is not a string of curses or a wordless groan, but your name. It sounds even better when you hear it again during round two, and even better when it follows ‘good morning’. 
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deadghosy · 9 months ago
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Can you do more Hazbin Hotel x enderman reader? I'm obsessed with it. I love the idea.
Credit to the person who made the art, this is just how I imagine Enderman!reader to look like as a human. 🦆✨
MORE HAZBIN HOTEL X ENDERMAN! READER IMAGINES/HEACANNONS
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imagine how reader is when they get pissed…they would just straight up punching shit just like the Enderman hits you in Minecraft ���
I Imagine Charlie trying to make you do a eye contest with Alastor only for you to start tweaking and punch Alastor into a wall as Alastor only gives up a thumbs up while you sweatdrop putting on your blindfold as you try to pull out Alastor from the wall
I headcannon reader to always pat everyone’s head when they are at their full height. But at 6’5 they just pat their back like “good job buddy😐✨”
Imagine Lucifer and you wearing matching shirts that say, “if lost return to big boy” as your shirt says “I lost big boy”
Headcannon that Angel is your cuddle buddy because he likes how your arm is basically a pillow for you. And husk is your second cuddle buddy because of his fur and you like to pet him.
I imagine Angel trying to make you wear pink only for it to turn black when it fits your body. Angel gave you a “🤨 are you fuckin serious?” Look as you just shrugged with a “😐” face. I mean shit, if it fits. It fits.
I headcannon Enderman!Reader’s suit to be like the art but instead of those black things on it. It’s just slight purple sparkles on it to represent the purple pixels around them.
But definitely their second fit is a black vest and a white dress shirt with black slacks and black dress shoes. 🤨☝🏾 W FIT YOU GOTTA ADMIT!
Yk how Angel made that Snapchat post about you and you got death threats? Yeah well Valentino was the reason as he got mad that Angel “wasn’t paying” you as you were just working on the hotel
I imagine Enderman! Reader to be black coded just like how the art is above as the reader’s hair is always in dreads, cornrows, and twists. But never in an Afro state as it takes time to get the hair nice and soft (coming from a black writer….it literally takes an hour…)
I imagine you once teleported during your cuddle session between husk and angel. They were so confused they even searched your room only to find out you teleported on the top roof of the hotel during your sleep.
I imagine Valentino at least trying to ambush you to see why Angel is so happy to come to the hotel to see you again. Only for you to teleport out of his view every second. And the moth dude is like “shit! He’s onto me…” but really you are just bored asf and need some fresh air from the hotel air.
I can see nifty just minding her business when you lifted her up and croaked softly petting her head and sitting her down.
I headcannon Enderman! Reader’s room to be built from those block in the end so reader can feel the presence of his home in the hotel💗🦆
I imagine Velvette actually getting able to like post you on her fashion account as a mysterious person with your blindfolded looks. The girls dig for guys who seem mysterious.
Imagine Lucifer and you making each other building hobbies, like he makes you build him a duck as he makes you a sleeping mask just incase you don’t want to stare at someone’s face without your blindfold.
Headcannon on how fat nuggets like to cuddle against reader’s legs as reader was making a bed for fat nuggets to have a heater installed if the pig is cold.
Like…bro IMAGINE READER BENG SO PISSED THEY SUMMON THE MOTHER OF ALL…THE GUARDIAN OF THE END…THE ENDER DRAGONNN (dun x3 dramatically) maybe they would summon that during the battle between the angels and absolutely destroy their asses
I headcannon Angel once seen your mouth glowing purple when you unhinged your jaw to screech. He definitely asked before checking out your mouth which he could see in the back was glowing.
Since I headcannon enderman! Reader is black coded. They have a bonnet that was shipped from Velvette as they put it on and felt more comfortable sleeping ‼️💗
Who would be the first one to respond to you calling them: Lucifer, Charlie, Angel dust, husk, nifty, Alastor. And specifically in that order 🦆
I headcannon for Vox to try to always have you on his night show so he can show off his new “guest” being a new specie of demons.
I imagine sinners asking what ring (7 deadly sins) you came from and you are just like. “The end….i came from the end..” and now they are more confused than you when they asked where you came from
I headcannon reader’s nickemame is like, “ENDY, tall one, handsome, [actual nickname], weirdo, cutie, dad, fucker, bestie.” You can imagine who called you who which is kinda obvious…
I imagine Adam to make a lot jokes about you saying how freaky you are and how weird you are for not liking eye contact without your blindfold as you just stand there like “what’s for dinner…😐”
I can see you showing the egg boiz a picture of a ender dragon egg making them think they can have someone like them but also just like you
I can see you just standing there as everyone argues in the court because Charlie wanted you there since you don’t seem like a demon or angel. She tried to get answers but no one knew what you were.
Imagine modern au! Angel dust and you do tiktoks….because Angel dust forced you to be in his tiktoks as the others just watch trying to enjoy their summer vacation
I can see Adam hating how you aren’t pressed about what he says about you as you just stand there ignoring him.
Imagine you being sick and everyone stopping to make sure you are okay. (except for Alastor as he knows you will be better soon) Like the whole crew just starts to baby you and try to fix things you can fix but only fail.
Imagine reader with a baby ender dragon as a pet as reader whistle for the dragon to land on their shoulder or appear more bigger for it to protect you and the crew
I headcannon reader’s singing voice to sound decent with a little bit of deepness in it to mask out some things.
I imagine your full form if you were a demon or angel obviously an ender dragon lol 🦆
Imagine Pentious just pure on slithering around your body as you just sit down after a rough day of complaining by residents and their rooms.
I headcannon Lucifer to get on your shoulders to feel bigger for fun which make it seem so cartoony as one has a derpy smile while the other has a thumbs up and a “😐” face just staring blankly into people’s soul
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familyvideostevie · 11 months ago
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steel drum weight of me
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joel miller x fem!reader, 18+ mdni
summary: joel comes back from his wall shift with hands in need of some serious tlc. but why stop there? | 3.2k
warnings: fem!reader, fluff turned to smut, a tender blowjob, p in v sex, unprotected sex, riding, creampie
a/n: this could be in the same universe as come care about me and watching you with wonder but who knows. what matters is it's a post-part i jackson au and all is well. this is my first fic in a while and i hammered it out today so hopefully it's coherent. <3 series masterlist here.
__
Jackson looks its best in the winter.
You've always thought so with its endless skies gone white, blending in with the grey clouds carrying the constant threat of snow. The peaks you never tire of, such ethereal beauty in a world otherwise gone to shit, looming over town with a steadfastness that you can fool yourself into thinking means protection, means safety. In reality, they're just something nice to look at when you have a free moment.
It's also fucking cold.
But you can deal with that. You've spent more winters in the last twenty years than you'd like to remember mostly outside, freezing your ass off, fingers so numb you could barely pull the trigger. But when it counted, you did.
Winter now means a town full of children laughing and having snowball fights. It means big pots of stew and your pick of hats, scarves, and a good pair of boots. It means a warm house to go back to every night, a bed to crawl into, and a man you love to hold you.
Things could be worse.
You're home first today. Joel and Ellie are on the wall and have been since mid-morning. The light is already going, the sun dipping behind the Tetons, sky that winter mix of purple and pink that makes the breath catch in your throat no matter how many times you see it. There's a flu going around and taking people out for a few days at most but it means fewer bodies free for the wall and for patrol. You're pulling a double tomorrow and you're already looking forward to the hot bath you'll take after.
Today, though, you change from your work clothes to something softer, a sweater that travels between your drawer and Joel's, thick socks Dina gave you for your birthday last year. It's hard to heat houses like yours the way you used to but it works well enough to fight the chill so long as you layer. That's the name of the game these days: adapting.
You set the kettle to boil and forgo thinking about dinner for a few hours. Joel won't drink tea with you but if Ellie stops by she'll have some. Maybe you can convince her to watch the movie you pulled from the library this week. You love him, but Joel just doesn't appreciate comedies.
The front door creaks, the bell you have hanging from the doorknob jingling.
"S'me," Joel calls into the house. "You home?"
"Making tea." The kettle isn't steaming yet so you lean against the counter and wait.
The sounds of his return are familiar even though you can't see him. He locks the door with a click, shrugs his jacket off with a sigh. He sits down on the bench you put in the entryway so he can take his boots off. The thunk of one and then the other. He'll tuck them next to yours under the coat rack. When the weather is bad you try to come in the back door so not as to track snow through the house but you don't want his back to get any worse so a bench in front makes sense.
The kettle screams. You pull it off quick and pour the water into your mug -- a chipped green one with a dinosaur holding a cookie that you find endlessly amusing -- and leave it to steep. The floor creaks under your socked feet as you make your way into the hall. Joel still sits on the bench digging into the meat of one palm with his thumb like he's working the feeling back into them.
He looks up and his jaw softens a little. His cheeks are rosy from the cold and his hair a mess from the wind. "Evenin," he says.
"How was the wall?"
"Fine." He stops messing with his hands and rolls his shoulders back with a grunt. "Ellie swears she saw a moose on her last patrol. Said to tell you. I think she's fuckin' with me. How was your shift?"
"Fine," you echo. "Is she coming for dinner?"
He shakes his head. "Game night at Jesse's."
You cross the remaining distance between you and he parts his legs automatically so you can stand between his knees. You run a hand through his hair, pushing the greying fringe back from his eyes. He looks up at you and finally smiles, just a little. You drag your hand down the side of his face and enjoy the feel of his beard on your skin.
"Maybe she did see a moose." He rolls his eyes and brings a hand up to cover yours. You lean down to kiss him but something catches your eye and you pull back, tugging your hand from beneath his to circle his wrist.
"Jesus, Joel." He makes a surprised sound.
"Hey now, what --"
You pull his other hand from his knee and hold them both close to your face, turning them over in the light of the entryway. "You didn't wear gloves, did you?"
He just shrugs. That means someone else on the wall -- probably Ellie -- forgot theirs and he handed his own over.
The skin of his knuckles is dry and cracked, the rest of his palm dry and cold to the touch. You've seen them bloody, broken and bruised, and compared to that, this is tame. Welcome, almost. But you know he won't do a damn thing about it, let himself bleed rather than take a second to make things better.
And you've never minded this part. Taking care of him, making him slow down and rest for even just a little bit. You both know you'd get your hands dirty or worse for him and he for you, but this is the part he has trouble with. So you take the reigns.
It's part of how you fit together -- part of how you look after each other.
"We've got something for this." Joel looks unamused. You press a light kiss to one of his knuckles and his nostrils flare. "Go sit on the couch," you say.
"I'm fine --"
"Joel, they'll bleed if you don't let me --"
"I said I'm --"
"Hey," you say. He hears the finality of your tone and lets you have it, sighing your name in one long breath.
"Alright," he says. "Move, then."
You press a quick kiss to his lips and release his hands to step back. He stands with his usual grunt and you have to stop yourself from leaning into the width of him, from wrapping your arms around him and slotting your nose in his neck and never letting go.
"It's that salve Dina brought over last week," you tell him. "The new one for the winter. Smells nice. Good for this kind of stuff."
Joel makes his way to the couch and you fetch the tin from the kitchen.
"What's it made of?"
"Uh -- oil? And some flowers, I think? Wax, maybe."
He's settled into the cushions when you return, smirking. "It's okay to say you don't fuckin' know."
You sit next to him and unscrew the top, folding your legs so you're facing him. "Well then, I don't fuckin' know." You're sure to imitate his drawl.
"Cute."
"Gimme those hands, big guy."
The salve smells faintly of lavender and it's cold on your fingertips. Joel extends his right hand and you work it into his skin slowly, extra careful around where it's cracked and split. You feel his eyes on you but you let him look.
"Feels good, huh?" He hums. "If you'd wear your gloves then --"
"What was I gonna do, let her freeze?" So it was Ellie, then. You flick your gaze up and find his brow furrowed. If you have a free hand you'd smooth the crease with your thumb.
"No," you say. "Guess it's a damn good thing you have me here, then."
He chuckles, a throaty, rusty sound. "Guess so."
You finish the first hand and motion for his second. He gives it to you and you dig your thumbs into the meat of his palm. Joel lets you touch him whenever you like, for the most part. Pressing into his side when you walk down the street in town, trailing your lips down his neck until he whines just a little in your bedroom. You've worked knots out of his shoulders and cleaned blood from surface wounds. You can never get enough of him, of his warmth, the expanse of his tanned skin all yours for the taking.
And, boy, he touches you back.
So you take your time. You rub the salve between his fingers, over the ridges of knuckles split so many times you don't even know about. His hands are rough even when they're not dry and cracking, callused from years of hard work. From years of violence and playing guitar, shooting a gun and holding the people he loves. Dotted with scars and nicks, hands that have touched every part of you.
Joel's slightly slimy finger taps your chin. "You okay?" You've been stroking the same bit of his hand for who knows how long.
"Yeah," you say and mean it. You rub your own hands together to soak in some of the salve before putting the lid back on the tin and standing. "Need to let it soak in."
"Feels soaked in already," he grumbles.
"Stay there." He purses his lips. "I mean it, Joel."
"Bossy today," he says. "There's wood that needs choppin'." You ignore him since he's just being annoying. The salve goes back in the kitchen and his voice trails after you. "And I told Tommy I'd --"
You turn on the tap. "You gotta let that soak in," you say again from the sink.
"What? Can't hear over the water."
You turn off the tap and dry your hands. Joel is still on the couch when you return. "Sorry," you say. You run your hand through his hair again and settle back down next to him. "I said be patient."
"Don't think that's what you said."
"It's what I meant."
And he looks at you in that way that always makes your face feel hot. Like he's seeing right to the bone of you, like he's laying you bare on the floor in his mind. Like he never wants to stop looking at you, next to him on the couch, leg pressed to yours. Like he loves you.
"Alright," he says.
You get an idea, the flames licking at your belly and your hands itching to touch him again, to touch him differently than before. That idea has you grabbing a pillow and tossing it to the floor, has you getting up and drawing the curtains before you sink to your knees before him.
Joel only looks mildly surprised, eyebrows raised, mouth tugging up at the corner. "Now, I ain't gonna complain but --"
"Then don't," you say. You tug his shirt from his waistband and start working on his belt. "Gotta pass the time somehow. And I don't know what we're doing for dinner yet, so maybe I'm just stalling."
"Hell of a way to stall." He reaches for you to touch your face, maybe, or help you with his belt, when you click your tongue. "We can just go to the community hall--"
"Don't touch," you remind him. "You have to let it--"
"Soak, Jesus, yeah, yeah." Joel tips his head back along the sofa and takes one deep breath. If he really wanted to he could ignore you and you'd let him get away with it, but if there's one thing you and Joel have solidified, it's trust. He trusts you to take care of him, to handle him with hands that love him.
So you do. He lifts his hips just a little so you can tug his jeans down, zipper undone and button popped. You pull out his cock, already half-hard at the promise of what's to come. You spit into your palm and stroke him once root to tip and he hisses. More blood flows and he stiffens in your hand.
"You just gonna look at it?"
You give him a squeeze for being a shit. He laughs but it sounds punched out, on the edge. Frankly it's an effort not to take him in your mouth right away. You've always loved this -- the exchange of power, the trust. You're the one on your knees but you're calling the shots. And he's mouthwatering. The way his cock curves a little, the vein that runs along the underside. The mushroom head a little pinker than the rest, the wiry hair at his base. The hefty weight of his balls in your hand, on your tongue. You know how to make it good for him and it's good for you, too.
Joel opens his mouth to no doubt say something else annoying so you finally drag your tongue along the vein, swirling a little at the top before taking just the tip of him in your mouth. His precome is salty. You work your hand along the rest of him as you start to suck in earnest, hollowing your cheeks and taking a little more each time.
"Look so pretty, baby," Joel says. His voice is gravely, broken in his throat. You manage to take almost all of him and you swallow, just once. Your reward is your name spilling from his mouth in a groan.
It's messy. Spit beads at the corner of your mouth and drips a little as you work him, breathing through your nose when you take him all the way. So good, takin' all of me, keep goin'.
Joel has clearly forgotten your directive as he winds one hand in your hair and pulls just a little, just enough to make you moan around him. You don't scold him for it, instead keeping your eyes on his face. His head is tipped back just a little, lips parted at he gazes down at you. His other arm is stretched along the length of the couch, his fingers digging into the fabric as you bob on his cock.
You know he's close. You can feel how he's trying hard to keep his hips down, trying not to fuck your throat cause usually he asks first. So it's only a little surprising when he pulls you off him, eyes a little glazed and some color high on his cheeks.
He wipes spit from the corner of your mouth with the pad of his thumb. "Why don't you c'mere?" he says. "Let me fill you up."
"Joel." This was supposed to be about making him feel good. You know even if he comes in your mouth he'll ask you let him touch you, so frankly you don't mind if he fucks you or not.
He smirks, presses his fingers into the side of your neck a little. You swallow so he can feel it. "We both know you can take it," he drawls, eyes dark. "Always gets you goin', my cock in your mouth."
You can feel the heat between your legs, the arousal pooling in your gut. He's right but he's also an asshole. "You're annoying," you tell him.
"So is that a no?"
You drag the flat of your tongue up his shaft one last time as punishment before standing, using his knees as leverage to get off your own. He shucks off his jeans the rest of the way as you drag down your pants, letting them pool with your underwear at your feet before stepping out. Joel holds out a hand for you to balance on and you take it, putting your other on his shoulder.
"Feels softer already," you mutter. Joel snickers and you straddle him. He uses one hand to drag his fingers through your cunt and you fail to swallow a gasp.
"Well, look at that," he says. "I was right." He pushes two fingers into you and they go easily, your hips jerking as he pumps them in and out once, twice, and then you're empty again.
"Smug bastard," you manage. He brings his hand to his mouth and takes a long lick before surging forward to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it makes you even wetter.
Joel licks into your mouth and you kiss him back sloppily, desperately, in the way you know he likes. You're so busy with that hands on his face, his beard scratching your skin deliciously, that you don't notice what else he's doing. His hand presses into the bare skin of your back under your shirt and you lift up a little on instinct and then --
The head of his cock nudges at your entrance and his hand presses again and you meet the movement of his hips with your own and he fills you with just one stroke.
You moan in unison, Joel's arm wrapping around your back as you curl yours around his neck, mouths not so much pressed together as hovering as you pant, as you adjust. Even with how wet you are Joel is a stretch, a welcome one, but a stretch regardless. You shift your hips, roll them back and forth a little.
"Go on, then," you tell him. "Fuck me."
He laughs.
His lips leave yours and trail down your chin, sucking spots onto your neck and on that spot that makes you keen as he does what you ask. He goes slow at first, letting you meet him thrust for thrust. One hand snakes up your shirt, thumbs at your nipple when he finds no bra in the way. You wing your fingers in his hair and tug, tug until he picks up the pace, until all you can hear is the smack of his flesh against yours.
"Joel -- Joel -- right there --"
"M'not gonna -- I -- fuck --"
"Said you were gonna fill me up, didn't you?" you pant, managing to find a bit of cheek in the haze of your fucking. "C'mon, Miller. Don't keep a lady wait--"
His hips pick up the pace, his hands pressing into you hard enough to bruise. You give up trying to tease him and hang on for dear life, managing to snake a hand between your legs to rub at your clit as he pounds into you. The only thing you can say is his name over and over as you feel the hook pull taught, feel the head of his cock brush against and then pound that spot that makes your vision blur.
Joel comes just before you do, his thrusts stuttering and his name on your lips. You feel it, the heat inside you and it's enough to send you over the edge, your cunt squeezing him as he empties inside you.
You press your forehead to his and catch your breath. He palms your neck, your jaw, slides his thumb lazily under your eye and kisses the corner of your mouth.
"Hell of a salve," he manages.
You slot your lips over his. "Wear your damn gloves." Joel laughs and it shifts him inside you. Even softening it makes you both hiss a little. "Just gimme a second."
His hand drags up and down your back, pressing into your spine. "Take your time," he says. "M'clearly not goin' anywhere."
"You never stop, do you?"
Joel kisses you again. "'fraid not."
You laugh into his neck. "Good."
thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!
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guiltyasdave · 6 months ago
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just close your eyes
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chapter 3 • series masterlist
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
summary: An injured Joel and Ellie stumble into your home in the middle of the night. Against your better judgement, you decide to help them.
word count: ~2.2k
tags/warnings: post outbreak, slow burn, found family, age gap (sorry not sorry), able-bodied reader, angst, reader has a sad sad backstory and ptsd, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut, vague description of an injury, implied death of a character, the angst is ANGSTING in this one
a/n: once again, i can't thank that jackson joel pedro photo enough for the inspiration that it's brought me. i hurt my own feelings with this chapter, and truth be told, it's gonna get worse from here.
follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates and find my full masterlist here :)
dividers as always by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍
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Over the following days, something of a routine forms between the three of you. 
Joel spends most of his time resting, asleep more often than not, the shape of him on your couch a picture that you grow familiar with. But as his fever goes down and the skin around his injury is less red than when you first laid eyes on it, you allow yourself the tentative hope that you might have been able to actually save him. 
You’re becoming less skittish around him, getting used to his rather gruff demeanor, slowly realizing that what Ellie said was indeed true, it’s not about you. You come to think he just doesn’t like needing and accepting help.
Ellie follows you around like a puppy, eager to soak up every scrap of knowledge that you can share with her. It’s not much, you think, mostly cooking, the task of turning supplies into various meals, given the limited resources that you have in this world. You like having her around, the almost constant stream of chatter and questions never annoying you.
It fills your usual silence, helps keeping you grounded in the present. Most of the time.
Now that you have company, it becomes painfully obvious to you how much time you spend in your head, just sitting and staring straight ahead, lost in your thoughts, oblivious to the time passing. You have taken to having a book open in your lap, to make it seem like you’re reading, but you find yourself looking down at the page without seeing it, not sure when you last turned it. 
It’s not what they would have wanted, you keep telling yourself, trying to shake yourself out of it. Well, it’s not like anything happened the way we wanted, the bitter voice in your head answers.
If Ellie or Joel notice, they don’t ask about it. You hear their voices in the night sometimes, both of them sleeping in your parents’ bedroom now, since the couch was starting to hurt Joel’s back. 
You don’t lock your door anymore, leaving it ajar, just like them. The thought of someone else being down here with you is soothing you, the fear of them being a possible threat basically nonexistent at this point. Instead, a different kind of fear sets in. 
They haven’t talked about where they are going, but you know that they’re not gonna stay forever. Once Joel is completely healed, and winter has given way to spring, they’ll most likely be off again, leaving you on your own again. You don’t want to grow attached, but it’s difficult not to, while being with other constantly. 
You and Joel are taking longer to warm up to each other than you and Ellie have, but you’ve gotten used to having him around you. It’s a quiet, but trustworthy, reassuring thing, his presence in your space. Now that he’s healing, he’s someone who you trust to take responsibility, to take care of things if needed. You’re not sure how you know, but you’re certain that he is.
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One evening, Ellie finds the DVD collection that’s stashed away in the cabinet under the small TV in the corner of the room. You hadn’t watched anything in forever, not sure if it’s even still working, but her enthusiasm makes it impossible to turn her down. 
Even Joel pipes up at the prospect of a movie night, crouching down next to her to sift through the DVDs. They’re both drawn to the shitty action movies – usually not your preferred taste, but you find the corners of your mouth lifting when they both turn around simultaneously, looking for your approval of their choice. 
Joel pushes himself back up with a grunt, pressing the button on the TV and making it spring to life without issue. You settle deeper into the couch cushions, pulling a knitted blanket over yourself as you watch the opening credits play. 
It’s so comfortable, so normal, and you want to get lost in the feeling in a way that makes your heart ache. Ellie sits down beside you to share the blanket while Joel stretches his legs out on the other couch. A smile is tugging at his lips when he catches you looking at him, but it can’t hide the wariness in his eyes, mirroring your own. It’s the feeling of things being too good to be true, the fear of nothing good ever lasting, of the world crashing down around you again, that always accompanies you, and without asking, you know that he feels it too. You cast your eyes back to the screen, trying hard not to get yourself lost in the fear, but to enjoy the moments of peace while they last. 
Ellie loves the movie, her eyes wide at every action-packed sequence, gasping at every explosion. At one of the more absurd scenes, you can’t contain the burst of laughter that bubbles up your throat. You’re unexpectedly joined by the deeper rumble of Joel’s, a sound that you haven’t heard before. 
You glance at him, to find his eyes already on you, an emotion in them that you can’t place. Neither of you say a word, both quietly returning your eyes to the TV. 
When you’re lying in bed later that night, you still feel the smile on your face. 
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While your closeness with Ellie came quickly, almost taking you by storm, it’s a quiet, slowly growing thing with Joel. 
It begins with him lingering in the kitchen when you’re preparing the morning coffee, asking you questions about the place, about keeping supplies, electricity, the safety measures. He helps you with cooking, grumbling about giving something back when you protest. 
He’s gruff, no comparison to Ellie’s lively chatter and endless questions, and it makes you nervous at first. But you get used to him, his more quiet demeanor, his dry humor. You can tell that he’s trying hard not to scare you again, avoiding sudden movements or getting loud, and while you appreciate it, you also can’t help but wonder how broken you must seem from the outside. 
He doesn’t ask prying questions about your past, how you’ve come to live here all alone, though you have to imagine that he’s curious. You don’t ask him about his either, even if you do wonder how he and Ellie ended up together. It’s a quiet mutual understanding and you’re grateful for it. 
You have to believe that he had his fair share of loss in his own life, that the both of them had; an inescapable reality at this point in the world’s history.
It’s like a silent camaraderie when he catches your eye as Ellie is reading out puns to the both of you once more, rolls his eyes in a way that still holds so much love for the girl next to you, but that fills you with the urge to giggle. It stops you in your tracks the first time it happens, the sensation so unfamiliar to you that you can’t place it for a second. 
When you smile at him, the corners of his mouth rise ever so slightly as well, before he huffs an exaggerated sigh at the joke that you just heard. It riles Ellie up, just like he wanted to, you suspect. But you block out her bickering at him, busy with your own thoughts. One thought in particular, one that you haven’t had about anyone since you were a teenager. 
Joel is kind of pretty when he smiles.
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The both of them have also taken to working their way through the bookshelf that’s taking up most of one of the walls. It’s mostly guidebooks on hunting, gardening, self defense, anything that your father deemed possibly useful. Over time, you had added books from your old bedroom, the one upstairs, that you had hastily carried down the stairs, hoping for the familiar words to give you a sense of normalcy in a world where nothing was normal anymore. 
Joel sometimes talks to you about them, asking your opinion on which ones to read, discussing their contents with you. Over time, you realize that he does it when you’re zoning out, pulling you back into reality with the drawl of his low voice next to you. You’re thankful for it, not used to being cared for like this, but also mortified that as it seems, he does notice when you’re too deep inside your head.
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It’s one of those afternoons, you’re just about to start preparing dinner, when Ellie asks if you have more books somewhere, about something cool. “Like what?” you reply, an easy smile on your face. 
“I don’t know,” she shrugs, “like comics, maybe? Ohh, or something about space?” 
It takes a moment before the words register, before they form a picture in your mind, the memory of exactly what she’s asking for. You stop in your tracks, frozen on your way to the kitchen. Your toes dig into the carpet beneath your bare feet. A faint trembling starts in your hands and slowly spreads through your body. 
Ellie says your name, an edge in her voice. You’re not sure what your face looks like. 
Your wide eyes find hers, looking up at you from where she was spread out on the floor, her hair splaying out over the scratchy rug, one of your books held over her head. You had joked about how that position couldn’t be comfortable a few minutes ago. 
You see Joel from the corner of your eye, slowly raising to his feet from the couch cushions. It feels like you can’t breathe, like you’re sucking in air but it doesn’t reach your lungs. 
A large, warm hand lands on your shoulder, making you jump. Joel rubs soothing circles over your back, your name a low rumble on his lips. 
“It’s– it’s not a problem if not,” Ellie murmurs, sitting up slowly, her eyes flicking between you and Joel, uncertainty written over her features. 
You force a shuddering breath in, using the sensation of Joel’s hand splayed over your back to ground yourself. Nodding your head, you will your voice to travel up your throat. 
“Yeah no, I– just a second.” 
Joel repeats your name, more questioning this time, but you ignore it, feet carrying you into the bathroom where you quickly shut the door behind you. Skin stretching over your knuckles, you stand over the sink, gripping its edges to stay upright. 
It’s what he would have wanted. He would have been so happy to share them. It’s true, you know what. 
You’re not sure what’s worse. Going in there yourself, crossing the threshold of a room that you haven’t entered in years, haven’t even opened the door to, or letting someone else do it, let them disturb the memory of a reality that you’ve tried to preserve in there. Too painful to touch, but too important to let go of. 
Steeling yourself, you return to the living area. Ellie and Joel are sitting close to each other, both of their heads flying up at the door opening. It’s obvious that they have been talking about you. You bite your lip. 
Ellie rises to her feet slowly, takes a tentative step toward you. “Listen, it’s not that important really–” She sounds like she’s talking to a skittish animal. 
You shake your head, not trusting your voice not to betray you. With a deep breath, you cross the room to the door beside yours. One of two that you keep firmly closed. 
It creaks on its hinges when you open it slowly, your hand shaking on the handle. You try not to look around, to keep your eyes closed to the truth that nothing changed in here, and yet everything changed. It’s stuffy, stagnant air that’s been untouched for too long, but it smells like him. Like he’s still here with you. 
You don’t see the unmade bed, still carrying the trace of the last time he got up, the stuffed lion beside the pillow. Don’t see the half finished drawings on the desk, or the mess of action figures in the corner. You grab the stack of comics from the nightstand, ignoring the way your vision blurs at the edges. Move on to the shelf, smaller than the one in the living room, blindly picking out random books. 
When you step out of the bedroom, quickly pulling the door shut behind you again, neither Joel or Ellie have moved. You can’t meet either one’s gaze, don’t want to see the expression in their eyes.
Ellie takes the stack of books from your outstretched hands, murmuring a thanks, and you sense that there are more words on the tip of her tongue. Questions, apologies, you don’t know and you don’t want to. 
Turning on your heels, you escape into your own room, closing the door as quickly as you can before you collapse on your bed. Tears flood your eyes in time with the memories flooding your head, threatening to pull you under and drown you under their waves. 
You hear their muffled voices through the door, but neither of them comes to disturb you. You’re thankful for it, not needing anyone to witness you in this state. Eventually, you drift off into sleep, your mind gladly giving way to unconsciousness.
The following night is the first time that Joel has to shake you awake from a nightmare.
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thank you for reading 🤍 if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask, it truly makes my day every single time!
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swanimagines · 3 months ago
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Teen Wolf: Imagine being Derek’s sister and him finding out that you’re secretly dating Stiles.
requested by anon
Note: nowadays all requests are done straight to asks, this is my old template of posting and I no longer have their asks!
Note 2: A reminder again that in all my newer fics where reader is someone's sibling/child or some other relative, they're always adopted, not related by blood!
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When you first met Scott and Stiles, you wouldn’t have believed that one day, you’d end up falling in love with the latter. Your first meeting hadn’t been… good, if you were honest. You saw them as a threat, as did your brother, so your first words to Stiles had been “stay out of this, human”.
Seeing where that meeting brought you now had been completely unexpected. Stiles had somehow gotten enchanted by you, and you soon realised he had a crush on you — despite you having been so harsh at him when he had tried to defend Scott.
And more surprises were coming. Him fumbling and being awkward, at the loss of words before you, you found it cute. Cute. A human, you found a human cute.
You tried to hide it, how you were warming up for him. How he got you to smile, how you started to enjoy his company. It wasn’t logical, it was foolish. And especially when Derek hated Stiles, you having feelings for the boy just didn’t fit the picture.
But, your feelings just wouldn’t go away, no matter how much you tried to suppress them, and eventually you just had to blurt them out to him. He just stood there stunned, looking at you for a moment before he started grinning like he had just won in a lottery. And you knew that he kind of had, he had had the biggest crush on you for a long time and now you told him you felt the same way.
But you still needed to keep it hidden from your brother, in fact Scott and the Sheriff were the only ones who knew. You snuck out almost every day after school to hang out with Stiles and there you were at a park, in the shadow of an old oak, heads pressed together and holding hands.
This was one of those days. You two were sitting in the park, beside a pond full of ducks. Stiles had brought a bag of seeds with him, and you fed the ducks together. You were quieter than usual, and Stiles nudged you.
“What are you thinking about?” he mumbled, handing you a few seeds.
“I think Derek is suspecting something,” you replied, glancing over your shoulder. “I can’t help but think that he’s been watching us, he acts so weird. I don’t know what he will do if he finds out about us.”
You threw the seeds to the ducks, making them swarm at your feet. Stiles sighed, looking up for a moment. You knew he wanted to mutter “creep” but you appreciated he didn’t. You took his hand. “I’m not leaving you, in case you’re afraid of that. Even if Derek will try to lock me up.”
Stiles nodded, squeezing your hand back. “I know.”
You sat there for a moment longer, until the seeds ran out and Stiles shook the bag towards the quacking ducks, before throwing it into the trashcan and leaving the park with you. You walked in silence for a moment, before Stiles turned to you. “Wanna come watch a movie? Your brother can’t follow us there, Dad has too many security cameras for that.”
You scoffed. “As if that’d keep him away. But you’re right about it being safer there. He might not want to come in and risk your dad seeing him threatening you.”
He took the jeep keys from his pocket and fumbled with them for a moment. “So… you’re coming?”
You nodded, taking his arm. “Yeah, I’d like to have a good laugh with a comedy before going home.”
As the credits rolled, you realised how late it had gotten. The clock had struck midnight a while ago, and you could almost picture Derek tapping his foot impatiently like the Rabbit from Winnie the Pooh. So you reluctantly retreated from Stiles’s warm embrace, stretching out before looking at him. “I should go.”
He sighed, absentmindedly running his thumb across your hand. “Yeah, you probably should.”
You stood up from the couch, swinging your bag over your shoulder, letting Stiles walk you to the door. Once you reached the porch, he leaned against the door frame and you looked at him, biting your lip. “Thanks for tonight,” you mumbled. “I had fun.”
Stiles nodded. “Me too.”
You thought for a moment, but then decided to take the leap — you stepped closer to him. “I think a proper good night wish could be better than just saying it.”
Stiles’s cheeks turned slightly red, and he stuttered slightly. “O-oh?”
“Yeah.”
And then, with one last breath, you gently grasped the collar of his hoodie and pressed your lips to his.
It wasn’t a deep, passionate kiss you see in movies, it was rather short, in between a peck and a proper kiss. But still, when you stepped back, Stiles grinned like he had won the lottery all over again, and you couldn’t help but giggle a little. “Goodnight, Stiles.”
He blinked, straightening up. “Goodnight.”
Then you turned, walking into the night with the biggest grin on your face. The night was chilly, but you felt like your heart was jumping around so much that it almost overheated you. Not that you minded, you were happier than in a long time, and almost felt like skipping through the forest.
Crack.
You stopped dead in your tracks, looking around. “Derek?”
Sure enough, he stepped out from the darkness, and you froze. “I… I was just on my way home.”
He scoffed, crossing his arms. “Don’t lie. I saw what happened.”
You cocked your head, trying to act clueless. “Saw what happen?”
He raised his eyebrows. “The kiss. I saw you kissed him. Didn’t you just tell me there’s nothing going on with him?”
You tried to play stupid and test the waters, laughing. “Nice try. You haven’t been near me today, I haven’t smelled you.”
He shook his head, sighing. “Which is exactly why I’m concerned. You’re losing your focus. What if the Hunters will get you because you’re too busy staring at Stiles’s eyes?”
You kept walking, pushing past him. “You’re overreacting. It was just a kiss.”
He turned around, starting to walk with you. “Just a kiss, and numerous secret dates after school for weeks, or is it months now?”
You groaned, figuring it’s no use to keep pretending. “Alright! We have… something going on with him. But it’s still early, and I’m not abandoning the pack because of him if that’s what you’re afraid of.”
“He can’t protect you. The Hunters will use him against you,” Derek said quietly. “You could die because of him.”
“His pack—”
He interrupted you, “He doesn’t have a pack, he’s not one of us. Even if he pretends to belong in Scott’s pack, he isn’t, and will never be, one of them.”
You sighed. You knew he was mostly right. Stiles, being a human, could easily be used against you. He hadn’t learned about everything yet, nor Scott had in that matter. You had tried to guide them, to help, but so far it was going slowly. And you knew that each day, the risks grew. You understood your brother, you had gone through the exact same feelings, wondering and pondering and pacing around your room, before finally concluding you weren’t able to keep it inside you. You had brought up all your worries to Stiles once you decided to tell him about your feelings, and he assured you that Scott would help if any problems came up. You still had doubts, but chose to push them aside for the sake of living. You had done what you could, telling him and Scott about the risks and Stiles still wanted to see what would become of you two.
You stopped, looking up for a moment. “I know it’s dangerous, Derek. But what do you expect me to do? Ignore my feelings, end my relationship? It wouldn’t be fair for me, even less for him. He signed up for this, because he wants to be with me.”
Derek stopped as well, stepping in front of you. He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m not asking you to ignore how you feel, but you need to be smart about this. Think about how many times we watched our friends get hurt because they got too close?”
“We’re not children, we can look after ourselves just fine,” you groaned.
He raised his eyebrows. “Can you? Because to me, it looks like one of you will be dead soon, and—.”
You shook your head, raising your hands up. “Stop.”
You stood there in silence for a long while, before Derek crossed his arms again. “You’re not letting this go, are you?”
You huffed. “No. I can only promise to come to you for help if I need any.”
He thought for a moment, and pursed his lips. “Alright. But don’t expect me to like it, or him.”
You smiled a little. “Yeah, I know. Thanks, Derek.”
He didn’t say anything, just turned, and you followed him home. Maybe things between Stiles and Derek would be alright in the end after all.
Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)
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xxblairexxss · 1 year ago
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Daddy’s girlfriend
Pairing : dad!Charles Leclerc x wife!mom!reader
Theme : Fluff
Just a short one since I’m trying to get rid of my writer block. 🩷 gonna start posting stories more frequent now!
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Your little girl is 2, yet she knew who would always say yes to her and who she would go to when she needed something.
It was her dad.
"Mommy! Open?" You looked away from the screen and saw her hand you a small on-the-go fruit juice pack she got from the fridge. Ever since she knew where you keep all her snacks now, she just wouldn’t leave the kitchen alone. One time she brought an apple because she wanted to bite it with your permission.
"No, honey. You can’t drink that.” Her grip on the packet was strong despite her small hand, as it didn’t budge when you tried to take it from her.
"Open? Please?"
"No, sweetheart. Can you give that to me, please?” Before you could tug at the packet again, she ran to her favourite.
"Dada open?"
Charles had his arm around your body as you leaned on him on the couch, so you felt it moved when he took the packet and twisted the cap open right in front of your face.
"Charles! Seriously? You didn’t hear me telling her no?” You sat up right away and glared at your husband, who tried to play it off by drinking the juice.
"What do you mean? It’s for me." He shrugged and took another gulp of the juice while your little girl went all giddy as she waited for her turn.
"I need to take my phone charger. Don’t! Charles, don’t give it to her, or she’ll always ask for it next time.” You left both of them and strode to your bedroom with the little trust you had in your husband to listen to you.
"Me! Me! Please?" The little one patted her belly, and stomped her little feet.
Charles moved the juice closer to her mouth and squeezed it just enough to give her a taste. "Don’t tell mommy you got this from me, alright?"
"More can?" She held Charles’s hands.
"Really?" He froze when he heard your voice with the packet just a few centimetres away from your baby’s mouth. When you came back to the living room, you saw your little girl jumping while clapping her hand, and that could only mean one thing. She got what she wanted.
"Dada, more!" She patted his lap, a little clueless as to why he stopped moving. "Dada?"
"Listen. She’s too adorable for me to say no, honey. Please don’t be mad.” Charles took your hand before you could yell at him and pulled you to sit by his side as he hugged you.
"Some more please?” She tugged on Charles’ hand that was holding the juice and squealed with excitement.
"Give her more, and you won’t be sleeping with me tonight.” You whispered and went back to your phone while he looked at you in surprise, feeling betrayed upon the threat.
"That’s unfair, honey.” He quickly closed the cap and hid it behind him. "It’s finished, princess. No more."
"Finish?" She shook her hands to get confirmation from her dad before waddling to play with her stuff dolls.
“I can’t believe you are making me lie to her, baby. That’s really mean.” Charles laid his head down on your lap as you started playing with his hair. “It’s really good though. Try it.” He offered you the juice. It was a juice pack that you got from buy one get one free offer and it had been sitting in the fridge for a while, that was until your little girl took an interest on it.
“I tried the strawberry one from the tester. Is it good?” You dipped your head and took a sip from the packet. It was really sweet. Too sweet for a toddler.
“More?” She saw you took a sip and quickly ran back to the couch with her bear in her hand.
“Finish, baby.” You yanked the packet from his hand and put it behind you.
Hearing that, she ran back to her group of stuffed friends and made herself comfortable on the rug.
“That was mean.” Charles repeated again.
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"Can I join?” You gleefully got on the bed and made yourself comfortable in Charles’s embrace while your little girl was lying on his left side. Just when he brushed his lips on your head, your daughter started whining.
"What’s wrong, baby? He cupped her round cheeks as she turned to hug him on the neck.
"No kiss mommy.” She whined.
"Ah, you don’t want me to kiss mommy?" She nodded as he turned to you with a grin. "Sorry, babe. My other girlfriend said no."
"She’s not going to be mad.” You assured him as you kissed his jawline.
"She is, honey. Look." He cackled as the little girl threw her fist on his chest as she let out a howl of anger. "Told you." 
She then hopped down the bed with full struggle by going leg first, then wobbled to her play room, leaving the parents alone.
"I’ll go check on her.” He pushed the duvet off from clinging on his half-naked body to trail on her daughter’s steps.
"Really? You are going to check on her first before me?"
"Are you…jealous?" He asked. You didn’t give any answers, but he knew that look very well. It was the same look that his little girl made seconds ago.
"I’m not. Go and bring her back. I miss her already!"
"So you are jealous.” Cackling, he sat back on the bed while you got on your phone. "Let me see your face.” He cupped your cheeks and tilted your face up as you tried to look away.
"Honey, stop it! Go and get her."
"Dada, look!" Both you and Charles looked at the door as she came waddling with the toy she got from her playroom. "Bear bear!"
“You found a bear!” Charles picked her up on the bed as she lay down; her small arms squished the stuffed bear in her embrace. She has such a short attention span that while you and Charles were still on the same topic, she had moved on to her little friend.
"Baby, she knows how to sulk from you! 
"No, she didn’t!” You rolled your eyes and hugged her as she had a one-sided conversation with the bear.
"She did. She’s literally copying you.”
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"Daddy’s here!" You took a cream-coloured plate that had little bear ears and placed a small cupcake that you had baked with your daughter earlier using the bananas that had turned streaky brown as you left it on the counter for too long. She loved banana cake and loved taking part in any activities you did, so she had been enjoying her time and was much more excited to give her dad the cupcake that she kept on looking at the door, waiting for the sound of steps.
"Careful! Don’t run." She tottered in front of the main door with her plate in hand as Charles unlocked the door. Soon as he stepped in, she shrieked excitedly while her ponytails moved along every time she moved her head.
"Hi!" Charles crouched down as she hugged him, completely forgetting about the cake, which required him to take it off her hand before it fell flat on the floor. "Did you bake this with mommy?"
"Yes!" She nodded excitedly as he took her small hand and went to the kitchen to greet you.
"Hi, honey. Have you tasted the cake yet? She was very excited for you to try. Right, sweetheart?" You pinched on her flushed cheeks and went back to place all the ingredients back in their place.
"Honey try!" She tugged on his pants and pointed at the plate Charles had in his hand for a while now. You closed the fridge and looked at her in surprise, while your husband had been silently laughing.
"What did you say, princess?” He stooped down, still laughing, while the little one repeated her words.
"Honey! Try?"
"Where did she learn those words? You asked, giggling.
“I told you she’s copying everything you say and do, honey.” Charles picked up the cake from her plate and took a bite at the edge of it, humming excitedly with his brows lifted. "It’s really good! You did a great job, princess.” She giggled as he stroked his thumb on her cheek. "And you too, honey. Have you tried it?"
"No, not yet.”
Charles was about to feed you when the little one pulled on his hand, extending her arms and continuously opening and closing her hands.
"Cake! Please?"
"Oh? You want it? But I thought you gave it to daddy?" He was about to take another bite and earned a slap on his leg from the small hand.
"Mine!" She frowned.
"Give her, honey. You’ll make her cry.” You commented after seeing the way she pouted, with her hands high up.
"There you go.”
"Thank!" She shrieked and ran to the living room with the plate; the cupcake shook within every step. She took it all the way to the front of the couch and started nibbling on the edges.
"You want more? I got the new batches here. They are still warm.”
“Yeah, sure.” He pulled you into his embrace and dropped a kiss on your shoulder. "Sorry for leaving you alone with her the past few days, honey. I’ll look over her now so you can rest and have your own time.” He bit half of the small cupcake that you offered him and beamed again from the taste. "Do you want me to book you an appointment for the facial treatment again, or do you need to get your nails done?"
You rolled your eyes, grinning at the offer, but you just got your nail done last week and it wasn’t your priority now. You had other things in mind. "I need something else."
"Hit me up.” He opened the fridge to get himself a drink while still chewing on the cake.
"I was thinking that maybe, we can get a raccoon?”
Charles put his glass back on the counter, his face frowning as he tilted his head aside. "Sorry? Get a what?"
"A raccoon as our pet?” You ran to get your phone on the kitchen counter and went on TikTok to show him a cute video of a raccoon eating food from the window drive-through. "Look! They are so cute! The way they pick up their food is adorable!” You squealed, ignoring your husband, who seemed to have tonnes of weight on his shoulders now.
"Are you being serious, honey? A raccoon?" He pressed his fingers against his shut eyes, heaving a sigh. He had never said no to you, but having a raccoon run wild in the house wasn’t really a good idea. "Wait, we do have a raccoon. There she is."
"More?" Your little girl ran to you with her empty plate as she lifted it up. Her cheeks are full with the cake crumbs, making her look a lot more adorable.
"You did not just call her a raccoon!” You gasped in shock and took her plate from her. "Dada just called you a raccoon, baby."
"Yes!" She giggled and clapped her hands, clearly not interested in the conversation as she waited for her cupcake.
"I can’t do this.” Charles heaved a sigh and picked her up, attacking her little face with kisses all over. "You are so cute."
"Stop!" She then got all grumpy and pushed his face away with her fist, wriggling to make him place her down.
"She just wants her cupcake, honey. Stop it." You cackled and cut the cupcake in half before placing it back on her bear plate. "There you go."
"Than—"
"It’s dada’s. Thank you." He snatched the other half of the cupcake and stuffed it in his mouth before she could turn away.
"Charles!"
Your little girl started sobbing and waddle her way back to you, hiding her face against your leg. You had to take the plate back as it started tilting from her lack of awareness to anything she was holding and sent a glare to your husband. "Why can’t you just leave her alone with her cake?
"She’s too cute, honey. Here," He crouched down and softly tugged on her hand, which was also full with cake crumbs. "I’m sorry, baby. Look, there’s more!" Charles handed her another one as she took it and wiped her teary eyes with her other hand.
"Share?" She took a small bite and offered her dad one.
"Dada’s full. Ask mommy." She shook her head instantly and scampered her way back to the living room, leaving you with your mouth widening.
"She’s not sharing it with me?!”
“Told you she loves me more.” He ruffled his hair and circled him arms around your waist to leave a peck on your forehead. "We can always make another one? Maybe he or she will favour you more.”
"No, but can we get a dog instead?"
"Absolutely no." He firmly replied and moved his body away from getting slapped by you. “I’m telling my little girlfriend you are trying to hit me?”
“It’s fine. I’m gonna bribe her with more banana cakes!”
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beforeimdeceased · 1 year ago
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✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆。˚ bbf dealer!ellie
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a/n: there’s three different versions of this and i fought with myself about posting one so here you go! credit to @seattlesellie who i believe brought bbf!ellie to tumblr!
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⭑
‧₊˚ ⋅ જ⁀➴๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⭑ Vacationing before the stress of your college classes fully consumed you sounded good at first. Then your older brother decided he wanted to come, and bring his best friend. Ellie Williams, who according to you, is the most annoying person on Earth. She never failed to eat up all your snacks, purposely hide around the house with your brother to jumpscare you, and steal your things to make you chase her around the house to get them back.
This has gone on for what feels like forever. Since the very day they’d met 10 years ago, and they’ve been a menacing duo ever since. And to top it off, she was his supplier. That meant she wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. That also meant that while you were enjoying the shade and splayed out on the chaise, she was purposely canon balling in order to splash you. You pull your sunglasses off to shoot her a glare. “Ellie, don’t make me drown you.”
“Threats like that’ll get the cops called on you.” She retorts, arms crossed on the edge of the pool. Her swim trunks puffed in the water as her eyes gleam in the sun. The water was dripping down her freckled face and you’d never admit it but she looked so fucking pretty.
“Where’s my brother?” You change the subject, eyes wandering around the pool. It seemed to just be you and an elderly couple. One playing sudoku while the other flips through a newspaper. Ellie pushes herself up out of the pool, bikini top displaying a playful array of space themed patterns. Something she’d paired with plain black swim trunks. She sits on the chaise next to you, arms on her knees. “He went to go smoke.”
“Are you guys going to be high the entire week?” You ask. “You both ate all of my snacks yesterday when you got the munchies.” Ellie is rarely ever sweet to you, especially not when your brother around, so this is the rare occasion she says something that doesn’t make you want to roll your eyes to the far side of your head.
“Yeah, sorry about that. We’ll buy you some more…” You look at her, raising an eyebrow, and she rolls her eyes. “What? I can’t be nice?”
“You can, it’s just that you rarely ever choose to be. Not to me atleast.” You turn your head when you hear your phone chime with a notification and don’t notice her face fall.
It’s your brother informing you, and telling you to inform Ellie, that he will not be returning because he’d met up with some friends he hadn’t seen in a while. You shoot Ellie an apologetic look, but she reassures you that she’s his best friend and none of the people he’s met up with can compare. It makes you laugh as you begin packing up your things and walking back to the vacation house.
You’d thought that Ellie would stay but she goes with you. The short walk is silent. You pretend not to see her eyes wander, and she pretends not to see yours do the same. Your hands brushing up against each other but never intertwining.
You both can’t contain it anymore when you reach the house. She nearly pushes you down trying to get you inside, before cupping your face and pulling you in for a kiss. You grab at her hips wanting her closer, and it causes her to moan into your mouth. Her knee pushing between your legs and brushing up against your cunt.
“We’re gonna have to tell him eventually.” You breathe after breaking away from the kiss. She looks at you, soft green eyes piercing into yours. Triangling your face in a dazed and hungry stare. “I know. Fuck—” You cut her off with another kiss and almost go weak with the way her hands trail down your body. Fingers pulling at the fabric of your swimsuit. They rub at your clothed cunt while her mouth finds it way to your neck, trailing kisses and leaving rough hickies. She felt depraved, but she’d grown to need you. To need to hear you cry out her name.
The moment is sweet. Your heavy breathing and her soft whispers of “You like that?” and “Want me to touch you here? Use your words baby.” You can feel yourself growing close, legs barely keeping you upright when the sound of a key in the door stops you both in your tracks. It’s too late to run and hide, you hear a murmur of voices as it pushes you both. One of them distinctly being your brother’s.
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leighsartworks216 · 1 month ago
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Sweet Tooth
Sylus x gn!Reader
I was nodding off while writing this cuz 1. I need a nap so bad and 2. It's just so peaceful the vibes of this fic are really nice
Edit: fixed some minor phrasing
Warnings: biting, kissing, established relationship, fluff, food/baking
Word Count: 1,771
Main Masterlist
Love and Deepspace Masterlist
AO3
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No matter how long you spend with Sylus in the N109 Zone, your sleep schedule remains persistent. Sure, you stay up as late as you can to spend the night with him while he’s up and about, but the darkness, warm ambiance, and your body’s own internal clock turn against you sooner or later.
Sylus does the same for you, too. He grumbles about it, but he does enjoy spending the morning with you when you’re extra cuddly, searching for the last vestiges of your sleep before you have to get up. He’s better at staying awake, but you catch him dozing a lot, head tilted back and eyes closed as he lounges in a chair near you. It’s adorable. You love the effort you both put into trying to maximize your time together.
But today, Sylus is conked out. He was gone for most of the night and came back worn and weary. He didn’t have any visible injuries, but when you cupped his cheek and used your Evol, you could feel how drained his own was. He nearly fell asleep right there, eyes closing dangerously as he leaned into your touch and the soothing warmth of your ability. You dragged him to his bedroom, kissed his forehead, and told him to sleep. He mumbled vague threats about you waking him up, but they fell into silence before he finished any of them.
With the mansion to yourself for the day, you have to find ways to occupy yourself.
The twins and you play Kitty Cards for a bit, but they cheat so horrendously and tease you for losing, so that’s out until Sylus can sit behind you and glare at them any time their fingers try to slip more than one card from the draw pile.
You go through his books. A few are interesting; texts about Protocores and Evols stealing your attention for a time. But they have you yawning and wanting to crawl into bed with Sylus.
You even go to his dedicated exercise space, but without a partner to spar with, you don’t even work up a sweat before leaving.
Normally, you aren’t so restless. Any other time you had to spend the day with yourself, you were able to settle on something for long stretches of time, even into the night if you weren’t careful. Now, you can’t sit still for 30 minutes.
You check the time. 9:56. It’s not even 10 yet and you’re already struggling to come up with things to do. You fall into a couch in one of the lounge rooms with a humph, pulling out your phone and preparing to fall into a doomscroll through old Moments posts.
Fortunately, one of the first few posts is the perfect motivator not to: a recipe promising to be the number 1 rated chocolate chip recipe. You click on the article and scroll through until you reach the comments.
These are the best cookies I’ve ever had!!!
mmmnn wanna eat the dough raw its sooo gooooood
Tossing my store-bought cookies out rn I will only be making these from now on
It seems promising enough… You look at all the ingredients you need. It also seems simple enough for you to manage without burning the place down. You’d be surprised if the kitchen wasn’t already stocked with everything listed. But just in case…
You head down to the kitchen where the chef is coming up with meal suggestions for dinner. He’s jovial, always red in the cheeks and bright eyed. You wonder how he got hired on. You ask for help gathering the ingredients you need, and he’s happy to bounce from cabinet to fridge getting everything. Once they’re all laid out on the counter, you thank him and ask if you can have the kitchen to yourself. He bows and tells you to have fun, going over his list of notes as he leaves.
You turn the oven on, setting it to the correct temperature and letting it preheat. You forgot to ask the chef about bowls and measuring cups, but you find them easily and set them on the counter with the ingredients. Once you have music playing (quietly) on your phone, it’s easy to lose yourself in the process.
The world hones in on each step. You measure out the flour and sugars, mixing them together with a whisk. Without any preplanning, you have to soften the butter in the microwave before you can add it. Eggs are cracked against the countertop, calcium-rich shells scraping quietly as you set them aside to throw away later. A dash of vanilla, and a generous amount of chocolate chips, and the dough is ready.
You find a couple baking sheets and line them with parchment paper. As you roll small amounts of dough in your hands, you bounce on your feet, excited to taste your sweet treats in just 15 short minutes. You pinch off a little extra from one dough-ball and pop it into your mouth. If this was a preview for the finished product… You hurry to get them into the oven and set a timer.
To distract yourself from constantly checking the time, you clean up your mess. You put away what you remember the designated locations of, and set the rest aside for somebody else to deal with.
Hm, you should probably leave some for the chef, as a thank you for letting you borrow the space. And save a few for Luke and Kieran, or else they’d bug you for “forgetting” them for the rest of your days.
You open up cabinets until you find plates. There’s a set, the perfect size to divide the batch of cookies between three parties. You reach for it, stretching to be on your tip-toes. You gasp as a hand comes into your vision. When you try to back up, you hit a wall of muscle. A clingy wall of muscle, if the way his arm wraps around your waist and holds you there is any indicator. He grabs a plate from the stack.
“Ah, I need three,” you quickly tell him. He sighs, but does as you say, bringing down three plates and setting them on the counter. As soon as his hand is free, you’re being fully embraced by Sylus, both arms holding you close to him as he presses his face into your neck. You reach up to run your fingers through his hair. “Did I wake you up?”
It doesn’t seem like he’ll answer for a moment, until he breathes in deeply and presses a soft kiss along your shoulder. “No. I could smell whatever you’re making through the whole mansion.” His voice is quiet and rough, affected by his slumber.
You smile and turn your head to kiss his forehead. “I’m making cookies,” you say. “They’ll be done soon. I was gonna leave some for the chef and the twins. But most of them will be just for us.”
You glance at the timer, anxious to know how much time is left, but you still have several minutes before you need to worry about it. You tap his arms and he reluctantly loosens his hold, enough for you to turn around and hug him back. His arms tighten once more.
“You’re clingy when you’re tired, you know that?”
He huffs a laugh against your skin. “As if you haven’t insisted on having me carry you around everywhere before because you were, quote, ‘too tired to walk anymore.’”
You tug playfully at his hair. He groans and bites your neck. It’s not harsh, but it does sting. You’re sure it’ll leave a mark regardless.
“Now you’re just being mean,” he growls.
You laugh and kiss his cheek. “Only a little. I think it’s cute.”
He doesn’t answer. His teeth nibble lightly along an invisible path, interspersed with light kisses. One of your hands combs through his soft hair, scratching his scalp lightly as you pet him. The other trails slowly along his back, side, and around to his stomach, searching for injuries hidden beneath his clothes. He notices, but he says nothing.
“Are you okay?” you whisper to him.
He pulls his mouth from your skin, finally lifting his head to look down at you with half-lidded eyes. The striking red of his irises seem softer right now, like the delicate plumage of a cardinal. “I’m alright.”
You study his face, as if you’d know if he was lying to you. But you believe him. So you nod and press a feather-light kiss to his lips. He sighs at the contact, like he’d never been touched so sweetly for hundreds of years. It’s such a beautiful sound.
The oven’s alarm startles you out of the moment. Sylus groans with a frown, letting you go and stepping away until his back hits the kitchen island. Your hand squeezes his side apologetically before you pull away.
You don a couple of oven mitts and open the oven door. The cookies are all aligned on the baking sheets, golden brown and slightly oozy from the overkill of chocolate you added. You excitedly pull each pan out and set them on the stovetop, before turning off the oven.
The recipe says to let them cool for five minutes… but you don’t have the patience for that today. You grab one of the plates from the counter and a spatula from a drawer, and carefully deposit some cookies onto the plate. You’re positively beaming when you bring them over to Sylus, holding the plate up to him.
“Want one?”
He hums. “Yes, but…” He takes the plate from you and sets it behind him. “You’ll burn your mouth if you eat one now.”
You half-heartedly glare up at him. “C’mon, Sy, I’ll be careful. I worked hard on these!”
“And you can stand to wait a few more minutes to taste the fruits of your labor, sweetie.”
“You just want more cuddles, don’t you?”
“Of course.” He grins. “Is there any better way to pass the time?”
You sigh, long and dramatic. But you wrap your arms around him, resting your head on his chest, right over his erratic heartbeat. He tangles a hand in your hair this time, cupping the back of your neck to hold you in place.
He feels the exact moment you go to reach for the plate and snatches your hand away from it, holding it captive by intertwining your fingers together. “Sneaky, but I’m not tired enough to pull that trick, kitten.”
You chuckle and press your nose against his septum. “It was worth a shot.”
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