#yuki was so set to be back in the points where he belongs and then they screwed him over | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lightsovermonaco · 3 years

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His Good Sweater: Chapter 9

Masterlist

As always thank you to my beautiful bestie @acollectionofficsandshit you can also thank her for all the Max content in this chapter. Its a long one, enjoy!

Word Count: 9.6k

Recommended song: “Hate the way” by G-Easy and blackbear

The one thing that never failed to lift your spirits was your dad's homemade blueberry chocolate chip pancakes. Whenever you were upset as a kid, whether it be your team losing a sporting event, your high-school boyfriend dumping you for the head cheerleader, or getting rejected from an ivy league college you never expected to get into in the first place, his pancakes had been there to cushion the fall. Clever as he was, he always messed them up in some insignificant way like leaving off the whipped cream and hiding the container so you were forced to talk to him in order to remedy it. Then he would crack some stupid joke or cheesy pun that would just barely have the ghost of a smile curling your lips.

Blueberry chocolate chip pancakes were no match for the heartbreak of losing your best friend.

The morning after, you only trudge to the kitchen when your stomach's demands to be fed become too loud to ignore. A steaming pile of fluffy pancakes sits at your usual spot, no syrup in sight. You don't have the energy to find your dad and ask where he's hidden it, instead picking at them. You knew the flavor should be fruity and sweet but every bite tastes like ash. One pancake is all you can manage before nausea roils, threatening to make your meager brunch resurface.

"Some is better than none," Ben murmurs behind you and you drop your chin in the barest of nods. "We can save the rest and you can warm them up later."

"Thanks," you mumble when he takes your plate. You pull your blanket tight around your shoulders as your gaze turns to the window while your brother washes your dishes, wishing for all the world that you could make your uncooperative limbs move and help him but the mental effort it requires is too taxing. Instead you stay curled up on the chair, the noises of the house waking up around you a dull buzz in your ears. At some point your mother kisses your head and hustles out the door to work, her husband close behind. Ben is the last to leave and is reluctant to do so.

"Promise you'll text me if you need me," he says. "Mom already gave me permission to cut class after trigonometry."

"Sure." You both know it's a lie and a bad one at that. Your voice is dull and flat, completely void of emotion.

"Mom said she's coming home early anyway,” he tries. “Something about overstaffing at the greenhouse."

"Okay."

The mechanical spooling of the garage door tells you he's finally gone. Your elbows slide forward until your head rests on the table, unable to hold it up any longer.

Every fiber of your being yearns for him, to hear the distinct r's and flowery lilt of his accent as he comforts you through the heartbreak, always knowing exactly what to say. It was second nature to call one another when either of you had had a bad day or a good day or just a normal day - you'd talked so often that last year you had convinced your parents to add international minutes to your phone plan.

Your fingers itch to dial the number you had long since memorized, knowing it would ring no more than twice before he picked up. He never let it go to voicemail unless he absolutely couldn't avoid it and you had a hunch he was waiting for your call.

Despite knowing better, you scroll through the messages on your phone. Love was evident in each witty remark and wish goodnight, pulling at your heartstrings. Your finger hovers over the delete conversation button, and after a minute of debate, you can't bring yourself to do it. You would allow yourself one reprieve to look back on and remember the good.

It would be so much easier if he had given you a reason to hate him. If he'd cheated or intentionally led the media to your house, hating him would be easy. You wouldn't have to admit that you still loved him because his betrayal would have yanked out the newly blooming bud of love you nurtured and crushed the fragile petals. Instead, you were left knowing that it had been your choice to inflict damage in him. You had no right to seek comfort in his arms or even ask how he was doing. You deserved to be miserable for causing him to feel the same way.

Yuki is the first to check in on you. You don’t know what he expects; you lie through your teeth when you tell him you were fine.

The press is asking me for my thoughts. No idea why. I told them not to stick their noses where they don't belong.

At least someone had the guts to stand up to those bloodsuckers. Yuki was the last person you'd suspect to do so, but the scrappy twenty-something continued to surprise you.

Thanks, you type back. How is he?

You hesitate. You didn't really want to know the answer. Pierre was devastated and just as broken as you are. You delete the last part and opt to refrain from subjecting yourself to biting off more than you could chew.

I'm here if you need me, is Yuki's reply.

Charles, Daniel, and his newly promoted girlfriend were the next ones to text you, all offering varying degrees of support. Daniel's friend was the one that offered to sucker punch anyone that came near you without your permission, and actually dragged a single huff of laughter from your aching lungs.

I'm good thanks. But if I need a bodyguard you'll be first on the list.

Just because Daniel can lift me with one arm doesn't mean I'm not punchy!

I believe you.

Spent, you set your phone down and retreat under the down comforter. The bright pink clashed with your earthy decor, but at least the old blanket didn't smell like Pierre. Your mother had taken it upon herself to erase all trace of him from your room when she had managed to coax you into a shower, and the half hour you had spent letting the scalding water run over your skin had given her plenty of time to do so. The absence of him hurts almost as much as the trace of cedar you know you're imagining when you breathe deep.

It has to be impossible for so much agony to be contained in your body. No matter how much you try, the tears won't stop flowing because Pierre's crushed expression had taken up residence at the forefront of your consciousness.

It didn't help that so many of your recent memories were touched by his presence. Getting into university served to remind you of the ecstatic call you'd gotten after his race that Sunday, voice strained with a mix of excitement for you and the disappointment of his race ending crash on the opening lap. Even something as simple as staring at the saggy bean bag chair in the corner brought back the memory of the countless times he had lounged there, sprawled out like he owned it.

Max's text brings you briefly back to reality.

You doing okay? Dan told me what happened.

No, was all you say back. Within a minute, Max's face occupies your screen. You sigh but accept the call, laying the phone on the pillow.

"I don't feel like talking, Max."

"That bad huh?" He asks, concern lacing his usually chipper voice.

"Yeah. That bad." As if that summed up getting your heart torn to shreds.

He's uncharacteristically quiet for a beat. "Wanna hear about Vic's day? She had some crazy clients at her salon- it'll take your mind off it."

"I guess," you say, utterly nonplussed. You could care less if he kept talking or not, you wouldn't be paying attention. He prattles on for a few minutes, seemingly unaffected by your silence as his words pass through one ear and out the other.

"Told you it was crazy," he says finally, your cue to respond. You hum noncommittally and Max just sighs.

"Look, I don't know how I can help you unless you come here. I know you have a flight booked- do you still wanna come to the gala? My date's been stolen so I'm in need of one."

"Who stole your-"

The realization hits you before you can finish. Pierre. Pierre stole Max's sister and left him without a date. Something about his willingness to replace you so quickly rubs you the wrong way. It shouldn't have been so easy for him to find someone new; he should be hurting just as much as you. Fundamentally, you knew nothing would happen between Pierre and Victoria. She wouldn't go for him out of respect for both of you and you were thankful in the knowledge that it was completely platonic. Still, it was like rubbing salt in a wound.

"You know what? I'll go." It was the most you'd said all day, your throat scratchy with disuse. Max whoops on the other line and you could almost see him punching the air in victory.

"Great! When's your flight get in? I'll bring the Acura and pick you up."

You put him on speaker and login to the airlines website to punch in the flight number. Last night you'd debated canceling the flight that Pierre had paid for, determined to stay home and be miserable. Looking back you were glad you'd trusted your gut and left the reservation untouched. If he could find someone else to attend the gala with, so could you. "I land in Nice at noon on Friday. It'll be a short flight, I can text you when we take off."

"Sounds good. I'll set up the spare room for you. Victoria is staying here too, I'm sure she would love to help you get ready and do whatever it is girls do before fancy events."

"Hey, Max?"

"Whats up?"

You trace patterns through the condensation left by the glass on your nightstand. "Thank you. For understanding."

"That's what friends are for," he assures you. "Is there anything you wanna talk about now? Or are you planning to wait until you're here?"

"Ben's been keeping an eye on me. I'm okay for now." Better now that you had something to look forward to.

"All you have to do is call," he promises. "I'll listen, I don't have anything going on this week besides streaming."

You latch on to the small redirection and run with it. "You and the twitch quartet?"

"They've been kind enough to allow me to join them on the sim this week, yeah."

"I'll try to catch a race. No promises though."

"See you Friday. Try to contain your excitement."

Your lips twitch upward. "Bye Max."

**********

The rest of the week was more of the same. You stayed home and your family dealt with the swarms of people that still gathered on the lawn each morning not so patiently waiting for you to tell your side of the story. You had decided that the best course of action was to keep your mouth shut and let them figure out for themselves that there was no longer a story to report thanks to the wedge they had driven in your relationship.

By the time Ben drives you to the airport Friday the buzz has died down. You hug your brother tight before checking in for the flight and texting Max. His response is immediate, letting you know he's excited to see you.

You wish you could return the sentiment. You wanted to see your friend, sure, but you were beginning to dread the upcoming gala. Max would be your crutch and you knew he was okay with that, but it still felt wrong.

Unlike your brother, Max was waiting at the curb when you arrived in Nice. A nondescript cap was perched on his head, the oversized sunglasses he wore hiding his eyes from passersby. His gleaming orange peel of a car attracted more attention than he did for once, people stopping to ogle the Acura as they came and went.

"Hey you," Max greets, a broad grin causing his trademark dimple to appear as he wraps you in a rare hug. You cling to him, throat going tight at the intimacy of it. Max wasn't a physical person by any stretch; if he was hugging you this tightly it meant he knew how broken you were.

He waited for you to break contact first, giving you all the time you need. You sniff and wipe the single tear that had somehow escaped and laugh lightly.

"Hey," you say, voice scratchy. "Thanks for picking me up."

He waves a hand, brushing it off. "Vic wanted to come but she changed her mind when I told her I was driving."

"Probably a smart choice," you observe, letting him pop the trunk- which was in the front of the car, since the Acura NSX was a mid-engined beast of a Japanese supercar- "and considering your choice of car, she wouldn't have fit anyway."

"This is true." He starts the engine, the roar of which makes a poor old woman a few yards away drop her purse.

The drive back is near silent, broken only by Max's occasional quips about a landmark or an observation about someone's driving. It was impossible for any driver to turn off the analytical part of their brain, their Formula 1 habits crossing into their daily lives.

When Max parks at the curb outside his apartment, you move to open the door but he hits the lock button. You glance over your shoulder at him and quirk a brow.

"Am I your prisoner?"

"Are you gonna talk about what happened?"

Sighing, you sink back into the seat. The way the bolstering hugs your sides almost makes you believe you could fade into it if you try hard enough. "I wasn't really planning on it."

It had only been a handful of days since you had broken it off, the wound still leaking fresh blood when you poked at it. It refused to scab over or give you any kind of reprieve from the torture.

"You know you'll have to face him tomorrow at some point. He'll want to talk to you."

"That's why I'm going with you. You won't have a problem telling him to leave me alone."

Max sighs. "Yeah, I suppose. If that's what you think is best."

The trudge up the stairs and subsequent silent elevator ride allows your thoughts to wander to Victoria. It wasn't her fault that Pierre had asked her to come with him after you'd canceled, after all she was already planning on going and the late notice meant it was likely no one else could make it, but it didn't stop the pang of jealousy that rocketed through you each time you ruminate on it.

It didn't help when she wrapped you in a hug the moment she saw you and whispered an apology in your ear, like she knew she'd done something wrong. Tears spring to your eyes again and Victoria shoots Max a leave us alone look.

"Uh, I'm gonna hop on the sim. Help yourself to whatever is in the fridge if you're hungry."

"Thanks Max." Your eyes are pinned to a smudge of dirt on the wood floor, safely out of range of anything triggering. Keeping it together was more of a struggle than you'd expected.

"I hope you don't hate me," Victoria starts genuine concern lacing the words. "It was just easiest-"

"I know," you cut in. "And I don't." Your smile is tight, not quite hitting home as she returns it.

"Well then. Let's figure out how we're gonna do your hair tomorrow, shall we?"

**********

The dress was a single, simple piece of fabric, spun of sunset orange and free of any bells or whistles. The feather light chiffon hugged every supple curve through your hips until flaring out slightly at the bottom just enough to allow you range of motion. The deep vee of the neckline prominently displayed your cleavage, toeing the line between attention grabbing and scandal starting and leaving little to the imagination. The back dropped low, leaving the elegant curve of your spine free to be kissed by the salty Mediterranean breeze.

The dress is nothing special compared to the thousand dollar pieces that the other boy's dates would be wearing, but you didn't have the money- or the will- to find something new. It by no means broke the bank when you picked it up from the second hand store last year, but it looked the part. It had been a showstopper at the spring formal you'd originally worn it to and judging by Max's reaction, it still was.

He let out a low whistle when you stepped into the living room. "I'm sorry, did you pick that out with me in mind?" He laughs and despite yourself, heat rises to your cheeks. You hated being the center of attention, even among friends. "It's the perfect shade of orange to match my tie. I swear I didn't plan it that way!"

"I know you didn't." You give him a forced smile, praying he doesn't call you out on it. The dress you wore hadn't been your first choice. The one you originally planned to wear still sat in your closet at home collecting dust. It had been the perfect shade of blue to compliment Pierre's sky eyes, but it didn't match Max's deeper ocean blue. So at home it had stayed, and you had chosen the orange one because it made the necklace at your throat pop.

Your fingers engulf the stone before you can stop yourself, as they always do when your thoughts wander to him. Him, because you could scarcely think his name before your heart wretches at the reminder of what you'd lost. Flashes of bright smiles and soft kisses filter through your mind, making you lock up. You swear you can feel the ghost of plush lips to your throat and the scrape of callouses over the curve of your spine. Your eyes fall shut, desperate to get lost in the idea of him like you used to.

"You good?"

Max's quiet words startle you back into the present. No, you were in no way shape or form good, but you had no choice to fall back on the familiar mask of humor to cover up your inner turmoil.

"The real question is are you?" You smirk and look him over. The Red Bull navy suit strains over his broad shoulders, suggesting he had put on muscle since the last time he'd been forced into it. "You look stiff as a board in that tux."

"I feel so awkward." He straightens the suit coat and absentmindedly lifts a hand to tousle his hair. You grab his wrist just in time to keep him from ruining his sister's hard work and shoot him a chiding look. He grins sheepishly and lowers his hand.

"Vic would kill me if you got to the gala looking like you got run over."

"That's a good point." He offers you his arm and you accept the lifeline he unwittingly offers you. "But I refuse to leave the windows up on this beautiful night, so we'll test how well it'll hold."

You quirk an eyebrow at him. "You're driving us there?"

"Well duh. I always drive when I'm at home."

You glance sidelong at the glaringly orange Acura parked at the curb a few floors below. Your dress would blend right in with the paint, but perhaps that was a good thing. It would provide that much more of a shock factor when you arrived and stepped out.

"Just don't crash out on the hairpin," you tease half heartedly.

He rolls his eyes. "At least it's just the two of us so I don't have to call an uber. Vic's getting picked up by-'' Max cuts himself off and gives you an apologetic smile.

"You can say his name," you whisper, eyes trained on the tile of the hallway as you walk. "It's not like he's gone."

"Getting picked up by... Pierre," Max tries, carefully monitoring his neutral tone. God, you thought you could handle it but you can't, stumbling over your own feet with only Max's grip on your arm to catch you.

He'd dance with Vic tonight, and probably countless other women, his hands drifting over their bodies like they'd done on yours only days ago. You'd be forced to watch from the sidelines and make small talk that no one would remember come morning, utterly unable to do anything about it. At least Daniel’s girlfriend would be there to be the voice of reason, if you could peel her away from Daniel long enough to speak with her for any length of time.

Max was uncharacteristically quiet on the ride to the venue, leaving you to study the city as he drove. Few yachts were left in the harbor as the sun was swallowed by the sea, the owners undoubtedly set sail for a weekend getaway. Your gaze involuntarily searched for the slip that held Charles' Ferrari red speedboat that you'd visited countless times with Pierre. The eyesore was hard to miss when surrounded by its monotone brethren, memories flooding back in droves at the sight of it.

Sighing, you turn away to glimpse what you can of the city through the ridiculously tiny sliver of windshield. How anyone could confidently drive the Acura while having so little field of vision was beyond you. It was probably second nature to Max, who weaves through the narrow streets with practiced ease and barely lets off the gas through the corners.

The city of Monaco rarely slept, and tonight was no different. Soft yellow fluorescent glow seeps from high rise balconies, the occupants soaking up the last dregs of sunlight before heading out to the casinos and clubs. People spilled out of cafes onto the sidewalks, their laughter lingering on the breeze as you speed past.

The list of people you trust enough to get in the car with and let them drive with such intensity is short: Max and Pierre. Not even Daniel made the final cut, not when his then not-girlfriend had recounted the tale of him losing the rear of his McLaren 570s at a track day and nearly sending them into the wall. According to her, he'd been too busy ogling her to keep his full attention on the road, but it was enough for you to question his judgement at times.

If you close your eyes, you could pretend it was someone else next to you, cutting through the gears like a hot knife through butter and coaxing every inch of performance out of the car that he could with the light traffic. You draw a surf-scented breath deep, lungs aching with the effort.

Max joins the queue of cars waiting to park outside the venue, your attention trained on the guests stepping out of cars and climbing the wide set of marble steps leading to the sleek glass building. The modern structure is slightly out of place among the Roman-esque buildings surrounding it but the air of importance it exudes overrules any who dare say it doesn't belong.

"I can't tell you how glad I am that there's an open bar," Max remarks, hanging his head out the window to wave at someone. "It makes these events so much easier."

"You're telling me," you mumble, searching involuntarily for a familiar head of dusty blond hair in the droves of people arriving. Instead of sight, it's the unforgettable rumble of his Civic Type R's exhaust that alerts you to his arrival. Your head whips around, eyes eating up the pearl white paint of Pierre's favored car as it slides in behind you. You silently thank whatever deity is listening that his windshield is tinted, protecting you from seeing the smirk you are certain is playing on his lips.

Once upon a time, the cockpit of that car had been your favorite place in the world. You'd spent countless hours inside it eating shitty gas station cuisine and singing along to the radio at the top of your lungs as Pierre drove you to whatever adventure he had planned for the day.

Max waves at your- his friend, you remind yourself sharply- and revs his Acura in response. He leaves the keys with the valet, picking up on the tension in your shoulders as the white car parks behind you. Max tugs your arm in attempt to turn you away, but your feet are rooted to the spot.

“I see you found another date-” The flash of a grin on Pierre's face as he steps out is immediately dashed when he notices you on Max's arm.

If looks could kill, Max would keel over then and there. A muscle in Pierre's jaw flutters as he takes in the sight of the two of you together, your hand on the Dutchman's forearm and your matching attire looking for all the world as if it was purposefully coordinated.

Max lifts his chin, spine going straight under Pierre's threatening glare. “Her airfare was already paid for and she already had the dress. Someone had to take her.”

Your stomach sinks; the last thing you wanted to do was become a point of contention between the two boys, but you refused to apologize for at least attempting to enjoy yourself.

Pierre doesn't speak again, only nods to Max and pointedly avoids your stare. He tosses the keys to the smart-dressed kid serving as his valet, coming around to open Victoria's door. With his back turned to you, you take a moment to study the crisp white suit he's chosen for tonight. You had always told him black wasn't his color and he seemed to have taken it to heart. White was what you loved seeing him in, and the tight cut brought back memories of a different type of suit in an entirely different city only a few weeks ago. You'd peeled him out of that Alpha Tauri race suit the moment he made it to the trailer, eager to worship him after his podium. You'd be lying if you said it hasn't been the best sex of your life.

"Come on," Max urges, placing a chaste hand on your upper back and turning you around. He leads you up the stairs, his comforting touch never leaving your skin for a moment. The callouses were all wrong, the fingers too broad to be who you wanted it to be, and yet you couldn't help but imagine it was Pierre leading you up, stopping to smile for the few cameras scattered around.

Flashes spot your vision as you pull your face into an expression of excitement. Max murmurs something in your ear that you think is encouragement but the din of reporters is too deafening to be sure.

"How come you aren't with Pierre?"

The shouted question comes from an unknown assailant but it strikes you like a physical blow. You freeze, mouth going dry as you search for a suitable excuse. Max grants you the space of a single heartbeat to respond before he does so on your behalf.

"How about you mind your own damn business and worry about your cheating wife?"

The man who had bombarded you goes slack jawed, Max's wild guess clearly somehow hitting him just as hard as he had hit you.

"Keep walking," he urges you, leading you through the blinding sea of flashing lights. When you hear the same question directed at Pierre, his flippant laugh grates on your nerves.

You don't have it in you to appreciate the grand architecture of the entrance hall, too busy trying to keep your breathing in check. Max steers you off to the side and places his hands on your shoulders.

"Look at me," he demands, and you drag your eyes up to his face. "Breathe. He's hurting just as bad as you, only difference is he's better at hiding it. Just enjoy the night okay? I'll grab you a drink and we can find Daniel and his friend and you two can catch up."

You nod, placing a hand on your throat. The delicate chain of the necklace is a vice around your neck, the reminder of him pulling it tight. Your pulse hammers beneath your fingers and you focus on it until it slows. "Get me whatever you're having."

Max disappears in the crowd, and you take a seat at the bench tucked in the corner. No one pays you any heed as they walk past, entranced by the elegant decor and fragrant florals. Your head falls forward to rest in your hands and you struggle to take deep, calming breaths.

Pierre was here. Inhale.

He looked happy. Exhale.

He was getting by. Inhale.

You could get by, too. Exhale.

Renewed, you glance up in time to find Max standing before you with a drink of dark liquid adorned with maraschino cherries in each hand. He extends one glass to you and you don't bother to question what it is before swallowing half in one go. "Better?"

"Much." You stand and brush out the wrinkles in your dress. "Where are we sitting?"

"Er, about that," Max starts, rubbing his neck sheepishly. "They put two teams at each table. We're at the Red Bull Alpha Tauri table."

"I see." You take another deep, steadying breath, letting the anxiety ebbing in your veins fade out with the exhale. It was times like this that you channeled Daniel a bit. It sounded silly and you would never admit it, but the slogans on his helmets worked if you focused on them hard enough. All good, all ways.

If Pierre could get through tonight, so could you.

“I can try to see if I can switch tables-”

"It's fine," you say and down the rest of the drink. “I can handle it.”

Max shifts on his feet, his discomfort something you rarely see from him. He usually excelled at keeping a straight face in uncomfortable situations but it seems that your unease rubbed off on him. “We should get going then, dinner will be served any minute.”

You once again take the arm he offers you, the liquor in your veins already granting you false courage. “We would have time to mingle if you hadn’t taken the scenic route.”

“It was nice out,” he protests, and pulls you to a halt when he spots Daniel across the hall. His girlfriend waves at you with a sad smile. She gestures between the two of you to indicate that you’ll talk later before Daniel pulls her towards the McLaren table. That boy was punctual to a fault and would be caught dead before he was late to anything.

Thankfully, the two of you arrive before Victoria and her date and are able to secure seats that ensure there’s a buffer between you. By some small miracle Christian Horner and his wife were absent and instead a few engineers and their significant others sat at the packed table. Max greets Gianpiero while you take your seat, happy to observe.

“Hey!”

You twist in time to see Yuki’s short frame emerge from the crowd and point to the empty seat to your right. “This one taken?”

You shake your head, standing to give him a quick hug. “How are you doing? Where’s your date?”

“Ah, she couldn’t make it. Had some family stuff to take care of. You look great, by the way.”

You dip your chin in thanks, unsure how else to respond. He was in a white suit that you were sure would wind up stained five minutes into dinner. “Did they mandate that you wear white?”

He shakes his head with a rueful smile. “Honestly, it’s the only one I own. I haven't been to enough events to build up my closet yet."

"Well I think it's…"

You spot Pierre before he sees you. His brow is slightly creased as he hunts for the correct table using the same focused determination as when driving his Alpha. For a split second, he meets your gaze. The cacophony of the event fades to background noise and suddenly it's just the two of you and you damn near lift your hand in a wave. You're positive he can see your heart beating out of your chest like in an old cartoon as you curl your fingers into a fist in your lap. Your restraint proves fatal, the floor falling out from beneath your feet when he drops your stare. This was your new normal, you remind yourself. Stolen glances were all you would get.

"I can move," Yuki says, starting to rise. You grip his wrist, holding him in place.

"Please don't." The only other open seats were across the table, and at least then you didn't have to worry about brushing elbows with him all night long.

Yuki nods, slowly settling back in. Max finally takes his seat after giving your shoulder a supportive squeeze.

"You don't have to say anything to him," he reminds you, barely audible over the scrape of chairs and various chatter.

You find anywhere else to look as Pierre pulls out Vic's chair for her and makes his rounds to greet everyone. Daniel and his girlfriend are seated a few tables away and you distract yourself by attempting to read their lips. You manage a few minutes of tenuous peace, catching snippets of Daniel's cheesy jokes and her disapproving, yet flirty, responses.

"Damn, we clean up well, huh?"

You squeeze your eyes shut at the sound of home. His words are honey and you lap them up like you'd never tasted anything sweeter. They weren't even directed at you and yet somehow you twist them to fit your narrative.

Pierre stands at the bottom of the stairs like a chaste high school prom date patiently waiting for your grand entrance. He checks his watch and rakes a hand through his messy hair. You stifle your laugh with a hand, amused by his unnecessary nervous energy.

Taking mercy on him, you clear your throat. His gaze snaps up to you, mouth falling open. You take your time gathering the orange fabric of your dress and descending the stairs, savoring the way he eats you up. He was resplendent in his crisp white tuxedo and you had half a mind to make him late for the gala and strip him out of it then and there and devour him.

Your heels clack on the marble floor of his entirely too fancy apartment and you pause to do a little spin for him, earning you an appreciative whistle for your trouble. A laugh bubbles out of you and you place your hands on his shoulders. His own settle on your waist to pull you flush against him, his body heat soaking through the thin fabric of your dress to warm your core.

"Damn, we clean up well, huh?"

You start when knuckles graze the back of your bare neck. The touch is there and gone but you know immediately that it's Pierre. It's slight enough to be brushed off as accidental to anyone else, but nothing was accidental with Pierre. The barely there contact conveys more than any words ever could.

He still loved you. You looked stunning. He wishes you were still his so he could prove it to you. All this and so much more contained in a half second brush of his skin to yours.

It all comes back to you in a rush, the emotion you'd so carefully tucked away in a locked box in the back of your mind finally set free. His touch ignites any other thought in your mind that isn't him, burning it away until it's ashes on the wind.

Despite your better judgement, you lean into him, giving him permission to unravel you. This time you sigh when his fingers ghost over your skin, electricity sparking in their wake. You didn't care who might be watching; the tiny touches were slowly repairing your shattered heart. Your traitorous mind replaces his fingers with the brush of his lips to your nape, imagining the heat as he slides the strap of your dress off your shoulder, lips moving to follow.

You bite your lip to stifle a groan when his heat is withdrawn, leaving you feeling inexplicably naked. You open your eyes to find Victoria's pitying stare paired with an apologetic smile. Max nudges you with his elbow, and you realize someone has addressed you.

"Um, what?"

"I said I like how you guys coordinated outfits," Pierre repeats and openly prods your shoulder. "Obviously Max chose the color."

His tone is playful, but his words are clipped in a way only you understand. Craning your neck, you twist to look up at him. His eyes are cloudy and his smile doesn't reach them, more for show than anything else. "It was an accident."

"Doesn't look that way."

Your retort is ready on your tongue but he doesn't give you a chance to reply before retreating to his seat. His ability to act as if nothing has changed astounds you, as your head is still reeling from the pinpricks of his skin on yours. Instead of being rendered speechless, he strikes up a conversation with Yuki about the Alpha's performance, leaving out the confidential details but giving enough away that it surprises you.

The sheer fact that he can so easily switch off whatever feelings he harbors is unfair. The sensation of his fingers on your neck still lingers and it's all you can do to keep from stepping around the table and slotting yourself between his legs like you had in that bar in London. Your nails bite into your palms, listening in if only for his voice to wash over you and calm your racing heart.

When he mentions the rake angle, you know it's just to mislead anyone who might be eavesdropping. He'd told you the exact angle in the past, and it certainly was not one degree, and it did not cause the level of understeer he was describing.

"The understeer comes from improper tire selection," you blurt. "And driver error."

All eyes turn to you and you straighten. You knew enough about the construction of a Formula 1 car to be positive your assessment was correct. You were almost as certain that he'd said it to force you into speaking to him whether you liked it or not.

"What was that?"

If Pierre could torment you with his subtle touches, you could do the same and call him out when he was wrong.

"Driver error caused the rear end to slide out around that turn in Japan, not the rake angle. That's got nothing to do with it. Your tires were blistered because of you taking an imperfect racing line and they were old. You miscalculated the level of traction they'd give you."

Why no one else had pointed it out was beyond you.

"So you're an engineer now?" Pierre challenges, crossing his arms. Something about the arrogance radiating from him rubbed you the wrong way. You let all the emotion of the past few days surface and add fuel to the fire.

"No, but I've learned enough to see through the bullshit drivers spin to mislead other teams."

Max murmurs your name in warning but your frustration is boiling over. He replaced you tonight, didn't even pause to consider going alone and instead choosing to take Victoria. Sure, it had been your fault that he was dateless, but that didn't give him the right to hurt you too. He knew it would destroy you to see him with anyone else even if it was completely platonic, but he did it anyway.

"Why don't you tell me where I should brake on turn ten since you're an expert all of a sudden?" Victoria lays a hand on his arm but he yanks it out of her grip. "What crack in the pavement? Or is it a mark on the barrier? Drive one lap in my car and then you can tell me how to drive."

It wasn't your analysis that had upset him. You'd done so plenty of times and he had always taken your criticism with an open mind, using it to tweak his driving style to improve his lap time or turn it into a teaching experience so you could learn. No, judging by the way his eyes are lined with silver that he fights to blink away, it's your betrayal that upsets him and rightfully so. You glance around the table but no one is willing to meet your eyes save for Max, who angles his head as if to say fight for it.

But you can't. It's monumentally easier to let Pierre win and sweep it under the rug than to address the deeper issue. "I was trying to help," you say lamely, picking at the salad in front of you.

"You don't get to do that anymore."

The venomous words hit like knives, knocking the breath out of you. Your mouth hangs open like a fish gasping for air but any reply you think up dies on your tongue.

As the music fades out and a man climbs up onto the stage, Pierre gets up and leaves. You track his progress as he weaves through tables, noting Daniel reaching for him as he passes. You flinch when the balcony door slams behind him, an astonished murmur rocking through the crowd.

"You should probably talk to him," Max whispers.

You shake your head, not trusting yourself to speak. You had no idea what you would say. 'Sorry' was insignificant and 'I love you' would be cruel when the barest of thought regarding how the media treated you made your stomach churn.

Max pulls his phone out under the table and you think you see Charles' name on the screen. Good; someone had to make sure Pierre didn't do anything he would regret in the morning and if it wasn't you, Charles was the next best chaperone. A minute later, the Ferrari driver leaves his seat too, exiting the same way as Pierre.

Focusing on what's said on stage proves fruitless. Try as you might, your attention is trained on the side door Pierre had disappeared through, praying he returns despite knowing it would mean more barbed words hurled at you. Neither he nor Charles return at any point during the presentation. His absence was quickly becoming a gaping black hole, swallowing up any semblance of sanity you had managed to gather in preparation for tonight.

"Try to have some fun," Max says, nudging you with an elbow. "As soon as this guy shuts up I’ll get us some more drinks and then we can eat and get out on the dance floor and forget about everything, yeah?"

You nod. You already feel the buzz of the first drink, and one or two more would push you thoroughly over the edge into blissful forgetfulness. "I don't wanna be sad anymore."

**********

He didn't know where he was going. All he knew was that he had to get away from you before he said something that would tear whatever hope he held of repairing what was between you to ribbons. He registers Daniel's low, "Gas, you good?" as he breezes past, but doesn't pause to answer. His sights are locked on the wide, carved oak doors that lead to fresh air.

The breath whooshes out of him when he flings open the balcony doors. They slam behind him and he winces. Chalk that up as something else for Helmut to pick him apart for on Monday.

Pierre rakes a trembling hand through his hair and rests his elbows on the railing, sucking in lungfuls of air like he'd just surfaced from a dive in the harbor.

When you'd agreed to come to the gala with him, he had been overjoyed. You hadn't made it to the winter gala earlier this year due to a last minute exam and he had sulked the entire night. He still had the place card embossed with your name in the fishbowl by his door, the sizable container nearly overflowing with memories of you. Everything from forgotten earrings to plastic hotel key cards filled the bowl and it was a bright reminder of your adventures together. His plan had been to add another place card to the mix after tonight but after what he'd just said to you, he'd rather forget today ever happened.

He fucking hurt. Everything just hurt, from the shirt collar scratching at his neck to the bone deep ache that had started when he laid eyes on you on those steps, arm locked with Max's. You'd stolen the words from his mouth, the jab he'd planned to toss at Max dying at the sight of you.

He hadn't expected you to come tonight. Despite anyone's objections, he'd been fully prepared to get completely shit faced to the point that the ghost of your skin no longer haunted his fingertips and your voice no longer sang in his head. But seeing your damned face had shattered the false reality he had constructed, the one where you never broke him and left him scrambling to piece himself back together.

The universe had dealt him another low blow when he discovered Red Bull and Alpha Tauri would be at the same table and he'd be forced to endure your presence at arms length, close enough to touch but absolutely not allowed to do so. It was his own personal hell, constructed solely to punish him for whatever transgressions he'd made in his life.

And that fucking dress.

The orange painted the aquamarine charm at the hollow of your throat in sharp relief, showing it off like he somehow still owned you. If you had arrived with him, he would have already led you back to the Civic and bunched that damned dress up past your hips to drag his favorite sounds from you with his tongue. If he could just get you alone, he's sure it wouldn't take more than a single touch to have you crashing into him and begging for more.

Seeing you with Max tonight paints an entirely different picture.

It's Max he sees tearing off the dress at the end of the night when you get back to his apartment. Max's hands slide over your hips and you laugh, walking back so you can keep your lips on his as he slams the door shut behind you. You dip your head back when he presses you to the wall, Max unfaltering as his lips and teeth trace the curve of your exposed throat and he slips the straps of the matching dress of your shoulders to let it pool at your feet. Max's name breezes past your lips on a shaky exhale as you become putty beneath his fingers.

No matter how loud Pierre calls your name, you don't hear him, instead cupping the back of the Dutchman's head and pulling him in for a heated kiss. When you do finally notice him observing from afar, agony wracking his body, all you do is grin. It feels real, even though Pierre is certain it's a crazed fever dream, his mind spinning his worst fear to life: you seeking comfort in the company of someone that wasn't him.

Pierre starts when the door squeaks open, the nightmare thankfully dissolving. Charles steps out clad head to toe in blazing Ferrari red and instantly he knows who sent him. The thought alone stokes rage in his chest, the image of your lips on Max's still fresh.

"Not as easy as you expected it to be, is it?" He asks, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Fuck off," Pierre growls and immediately regrets it. Beyond you, Charles was his closest friend. They had known each other for ages. It wasn’t a friendship he was willing to sacrifice just because he felt like shit. Pierre sighs and throws him an apologetic glance. "No it's not."

"Why don't you talk to her?"

"She doesn't want to fucking talk, Charles. Take one look at her, she's hanging on Max like she can't get enough of him." Pierre hangs his head in his hands, emotions shifting faster than he did on race day. "I can't go back in there and watch her choose him over me."

"You don't really believe that bullshit, do you?" Charles asks, joining him at the railing.

Not entirely, but he still struggled to understand your thought process. He thought he knew you, but you being here tonight when he had been certain you wouldn't be proved he didn't.

"I don't know what to believe anymore. I thought it would be forever, that I'd finally found someone who didn't mind my lifestyle and accepted it for what it was, who loved me unconditionally. I thought she was my forever."

"You think she's done with you just because some assholes invaded her privacy?" Charles shakes his head. "She's loved you for a long time, years even. You haven't seen the looks she gives you, but the rest of us have. You hung the moon in her sky, Pierre. That kind of thing doesn't just get swept away by the breeze."

His shoulders curl inward in an attempt to hide the frustrated tear that escapes him. "What am I supposed to do?"

Charles shrugs. "I don't think there's a right answer to that. Try giving her some space. She didn't grow up in the spotlight like we did. It's not an easy adjustment for some people, mate. And blowing up on her when she tries to make conversation doesn't help anything," he says gently. "Let her figure it out and come to you when she's ready."

The concept of letting you go even temporarily was terrifying to him. Waiting on you to make the first move was even worse because he was setting his fate in your hands.

"I miss her," he murmurs, turning his face to his friend.

"I know." Charles throws an arm around the taller man's shoulders and follows his gaze out over the tiered streets of Monaco's city center. "My suggestion is to throw yourself into the season. Show her you know how to fight, y'know?"

Pierre nods. He could do that. It was how he normally handled his problems anyway; let the track wick away whatever was on his mind and force him to hone in on the details surrounding him in each moment.

"You ready to head inside?" Charles asks.

"I don't think I can go back just yet."

"Want me to hang out here with you?"

"No. I'll be back eventually."

Charles' hand falls from his shoulder after a short squeeze, the sound of a tinny voice over the speakers temporarily flooding the balcony as Charles returns to the banquet. Pierre allows himself a few more moments of reprieve before slipping back inside just as the applause starts. Rather than returning to the delicately portioned meal that sat cooling before his empty chair, he orders a drink. Whiskey on the rocks, his go to in times of crisis. He takes one sip before the reminder of you ordering it for him in London makes holding the glass of caramel liquid unbearable and he downs it in a single swallow, going back to order a beer instead.

He nurses the green bottle of Heineken as he leans against the wall until the meal is finished and the chit chat starts. You stand with Max, practically pressed against him as you snatch a flute of champagne from a passing server. You search the crowd, brows drawing together when you don't locate your quarry. Pierre had made sure that he was tucked out of the low lighting, unsure if he could survive you stealing worried glances at him all night.

Charles winds his way over to pass off a roll he snagged from dinner, practically forcing the Frenchman to eat it before returning to his date. He nibbles at it absentmindedly, entirely too focused on you to divert an ounce of focus elsewhere.

Your dress is a glowing sun in a sea of earth tone garments, drawing his eye as you pull Max out onto the wood platform serving as the dance floor before the tables are fully cleared. The flush in your cheeks tells him you're deeper in your cups than you should be; Max didn't know your limit as well as he did. Three drinks was all you could manage before you got tipsy, five if you wanted to be completely blitzed.

The lights dim and his hiding spot is no longer quite as good as the party lights sweep over him from time to time. Max places one hand on your hip and you place one on his shoulder and grin up at him. Judging by the fit of giggles that requires you to lean into Max for support, you were teetering dangerously on the edge of being wholly drunk. You throw your head back and laugh at whatever Max says in response to your fit, Pierre straining to hear the musical sound over the band.

"Hey," Victoria says, breaking his concentration. "You wanna get out there?"

Pierre grimaces. He had managed to completely forget about her, too stuck in his own head. "Sorry, Vic. I don't think I'd be a very good partner tonight."

"No worries," she says, a soft, understanding smile on her lips. "I can keep myself busy."

Pierre nods his thanks, his attention immediately returning to the dance floor. Daniel and his girlfriend steal the show, both laughing as he dips and twirls her across the floor.

Being together was so fucking easy for them, effortless in a way it wasn't for you and Pierre. They never once paid any heed to the photographers that swarmed them or the headlines printed about them, they just laughed the rumors off and carried on. No one could question their love for each other because they were vocal about it- sometimes annoyingly so- and Daniel was rarely seen in public without her at his side. They were always touching, holding hands or stealing kisses or even the near scandal of his hand blatantly on her ass at the podium a few races back, and neither of them cared.

Their love was all that mattered. They didn't care who knew it.

But you and Pierre were far too private to be like that, at least not when you were still trying to figure things out yourself. The first sign of outside pressure had you cracking, and he wouldn't stand for knowing he was the source of your pain.

He tries and fails to convince himself he isn't jealous of the way Dan's hand so easily glides under the navy blue silk of her dress to caress her back without a second thought, wishing he could do the same to you. If he's being honest, he's living vicariously through Daniel for the next few songs, pretending he was someone else observing you and himself on the dance floor instead. It almost works; the way she shudders when his lips graze her ear is strikingly similar to how you'd react. The smile she flashes up at him is agonizingly close to your own wicked grin.

When her mouth finds his, Pierre gathers his wits and turns away. Their blatant public affection flipped a switch inside him, disgust rocking through him for a split second before he pushed it away.

He was happy for them. He knew what a long, rocky road it had been for them to become lovers instead of friends, had firsthand knowledge of the stress they'd gone through before they'd finally admitted their feelings to each other, put their pride aside and got together. Pierre had been the one to offer her advice on a night not much different than this one months ago, helping repair the damage Daniel's idiotic, thoughtless words had caused.

But Pierre had since become the person who was sickened at the sight of others in love. It reminded him that part of himself was missing and he hated it.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep his eyes from wandering back to you. You still occasionally scan the room as Max struggles to lead you through a dance. By some stroke of bad luck your gaze snags on him just as a spotlight illuminates his face and he grimaces. A slow blink is the only surprise you let show before laying your head on Max's shoulder. Jealousy spikes through him like wildfire, igniting his blood and tinging his vision with red.

He wants to march over and rip you off Max. He wants you tucked safely against him as his thumb rubs circles on the bare skin of the small of your back. He wants, more than anything, to take you to his apartment and half carry you up the stairs, having to shush you because you're giggling loud enough to wake the dead, and lay you down in his bed. He wants to help you out of that stunning dress and into a pair of his sweats and curl up against you, letting you sleep off your hangover until noon.

He'd fucked up that chance though, hadn't he? He had slipped up and driven you straight into your friend's arms, who he trusted not to make a move on you but not enough to negate the jealousy coursing through him.

In that moment, he hates you. He hates the hold you have on him, the way a simple gesture between half-drunk friends could send him into a spiral so steep he didn't recognize himself. He hates that he can't keep his eyes off you, your gravity too strong for him to resist.

Most of all, he hates that he doesn’t know how to quit you.

@seasidetom @flashcal @limp-wrist-max @sunshinesewis @lifeofzoemichael @ninuffi @perfectfantasies22 @lamboleglerg @ladyperceval

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forever-rogue · 4 years

Note

Congratss. You are an amazing writer. What do you think about 71,76,248 from the prompt list 1?. Maybe a fight with Din because he’s being a dumbass and then he begs for pardon. Thank you 🌞

71. “I am not losing you again!” & 76. “I can’t… I can’t lose you.” & 248. “Please, don’t leave.”

Hmm...angst? Angst!

Din Djarin x Fem!Reader ; warnings: none

The Mandalorian Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

You scrambled about the room as you gathered your few belongings, hastily stuffing them into a bag without care. It didn’t matter in the long run - a few wrinkles weren’t going to be the make or break for you. The fact that your heart felt like it was broken beyond repair was a different story. Pathetic sobs threatened to rock your whole body as tears streamed down your face, dropping onto your tunic and the metal floor of the ship. You wanted to stay...but Maker you just...couldn’t. You’d thought this life was for you, but now, after all that had happened, you realized that it wasn’t for you atl all. There was no way you could keep going on like this.

You couldn’t fathom a whole life with nothing but being on the run, constantly watching your back and jumping from place to place. Things would be calmer now, you knew that, since Grogu was no longer with the two of you, but off with the Jedi that had responded to his call. It had broken your heart to have him go, to be without the little green bean who you had come to call your son, but you knew it was the right thing to do. It had always been the end game. It was painful and hurt, but you knew that eventually that pain would dull, knowing you’d see him again, and he would always be part of your family. You’d be reunited with him one day.

But it still didn’t change the fact that your life wasn’t going to calm down in the slightest. Din Djarin, your husband - and accidental ruler of Mandalore - was a good man, a man with a heart of gold that truly only wanted the best for others. But this...it just never seemed to end. After what seemed like a lifetime of go, go, go, you were ready for some peace, some silence, and a sense of tranquility. He had promised you this; promised that soon you would settle down and start a real home, a family, everything you had wanted. Because he wanted all those things too. Or so he’d claimed.

Things had never changed; and now you weren’t sure if they ever would. Would he want to be the ruler of a once great society? Would he want to build everything back up and have his fellow Mandalorians come out of hiding? And what about you? Would you be his reluctant Queen? You hated how you felt about the whole situation; hated that you didn’t want him to assume more responsibility, hated that you wanted to drag him away from it, hated that you wanted something so different from him.

You’d always made your intentions clear, that you wanted this whole life of bounty hunting and people saving to come to an end. And he had promised. He’d promised you. He always promised. Half of you was tempted to drag him away and force him into the life you wanted...but you could never do that either. It wouldn’t be fair for you to force him to do anything he didn’t want to. Just like it wouldn’t be fair for him to expect the same of you; and you’d never once held back your desires and wants.

“Cyare,” Din stood in the doorway, the black T of his visor focused on you as he watched you intently, knowing exactly what you were doing, “stop. Please. Let’s talk about this…”

“Din,” you turned to face, your face pulled into a deep look of sadness that broke his heart, “I have to go. I-I-I can’t do this anymore. I am not cut out for this life.”

“Things will be different now...I know it’s hard with...him gone,” his own voice cracked as he stepped closer to you, watching as you flinched out of his way. If he knew it would make you stay, he would have dropped to his knees and begged you, “we can have the life we always wanted.”

“When Din?” you asked as you stuffed the remaining bit of clothing into the rucksack, “when you’re done playing Mand’alor? When someone’s bested you in combat and taken the title? When someone kills you?”

“Nothing’s-”

“I can’t lose you again,” you didn’t even bother to try and hide the fact that you were ready to bawl as you looked at him with trembling lips, “I’ve done it so many times, and I’m sorry if it’s selfish of me, but I want you. Not The Mandalorian, not Mando, not the Mand’alor - you. Din Djarin...my riduur. But I can’t have that, it seems. Every time I think this is over, there’s something else. And I know your heart is pure and that you are a good - the best - man, but I don’t want a piece of you. I want all of you for once. Without anything else, no responsibilities, nothing. Just you.”

“I know things have been hard,” he sighed as he tried to reach for you, tried to gently touch your face but you just shook your head and pulled away, “I swear it will be different now. Calm, just us…”

“I know you want to mean it, Din,” you almost whimpered at him, “I know you do. But I know it’s not true; I’ve come to realize we’re very different people with different wants and needs. I don’t...I don’t want to spend the rest of my life like this. I want to have a stable, safe, loving home, with kids, and just...us. It was always supposed to be like that Din. You always promised. Somewhere along the line we changed and we want different things. And that’s okay, but this life isn’t for me anymore.”

“I do want those things…” he reached for the beskar helmet adorning his head and pulled it off before setting it down on the floor with a loud clang. As soon as you met those soft brown eyes that you had fallen in love with so long ago, you could see that he was crying too. You didn’t want to do this; kriff you really didn’t want to. But if you stayed and committed to this life forever, you would never be truly happy, “I can’t...I can’t lose you. You are everything to me...you and...Grogu.”

“I know you love me, Din,” you promised as you wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole so this never had to happen, “I know you love Grogu. I know, trust me. Because I love you more than you will ever know. But I can’t keep doing this...nor can I ask you to stop. We’re just...we’re at different points right now.”

“I-I’ll come with you,” he stammered as he took a step closer. This time you didn’t flinch but instead you threw your arms around his neck and pulled him against your body as tightly as possible. His armor created a metallic barrier; a barrier just like the one that appeared between the two of you, “please. Please don’t go. Please don’t leave me.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered into his ear before pressing a flurry of kisses to the side of his head. He took in a shaky breath before burying his head into your shoulder, “I’m sorry, Din. I need to go. If I stay, things will never get better. And I don’t ever want to resent you or despise you because we’re at different points in our lives. This...this is for the best. I know it hurts now, but it’s for the best. We both know that.”

“I can’t do this without you…”

“Of course you can, Din Djarin,” you pulled back and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, “you can do anything. And I know you have so much good left to do. And you will do it.”

“I love you,” he whispered as he pulled in you for a slow kiss, one that conveyed everything he wanted to say and you understood, “I will always love you. Only you.”

“And I will always love you,” you promised as you pressed your forehead against his, “this won’t be forever, I promise it. I will always wait for you. I have to go - for now - but wherever I go I know you will find me. When you’re ready.”

“I will always find you,” he agreed as he closed his eyes and breathed you in, “no matter when or where. I will find you.”

“I’ll be waiting,” you smiled through your tears as you wiped away his own, “when you’re ready, I’ll be there. This isn’t goodbye, I promise. Our story isn’t finished.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, Din,” you slowly pulled back and looked at him with watery eyes, your heart breaking, but the fact that you would one day be reunited serving as a cushion, “I’ll see you again, when you’re ready.”

“I will give you everything, I swear it.”

“You already have, my love. There’s one more thing I want - you. When you’re ready, I’ll be ready.”

“Goodbye…”

“See you later,” you reminded him with one last kiss, the sweetest and most painful one that you’d ever shared, “I’ll be waiting, my love.”

“I will be there, I promise, I swear everything on it.”

“I know, my love. Until we meet again.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the Mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #forever rogue's follower celebration #star wars #din djarin x fem!reader

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papers4me · 3 years

Text

Fruits Basket Manga Review , ch 110

The writer doesn’t need to rush to akito (antagonist) & give us quick background exposition & escalate her mentality to the exploding moment, simply cuz tohru (the protagonist) isn’t emotionally in her most vulnerable moment yet. Tohru’s issues will be presented deeper with each pov chapter she’ll have. So what should the writer do now?

This is a connected plot, meaning the emotions belonging to the previous chapter are still lingering & needs to be dealt with. There is no stupid laughing & cooking or even dumber momentarily amnesia. Nope! There is this:

-The Art of Writing Slow-Burns: (Lingering Emotions:)

Last time kyo hugged tohru thro the sheets. sth he wouldn’t do if it weren’t for the heartbreaking moment of tohru’s tears & the reason behind them. Why wouldn he do it? cuz he believes he’s the reason of her pain & is setting his mind on leaving her & being imprisoned as a punishment. He wouldn’t do it cuz he loves her but he did it cuz he loves her. why? cuz love is illogical. Kyo’s heart moved him effortlessly to embrace her & “ his tenderness covered her pain” as the writer put it at the end of ch109.

Last time tohru hugged kyo thro the sheets, sth she wouldn’t do if it weren’t for the comfort of his warmth enveloping her loneliness & providing safety & a home. A home can a person. Why wouldn she do it? cuz Tohru is someone who hides pain behind a smile, someone who thinks she’s ugly & unlovable cuz she’s grieving still after all this time. She’s thinks she’s a burden. But here she confessed to kyo unprompted or advised by anybody. He only asked a fleeting question. but tohru cant hide who she is friom him anymore. Still, he accepted her & tenderly held her thro the sheets & she threw her body at him, she initiated the hug.

The sheet hig is the biggest emotional moment between kyo/tohru yet. It altered how they feel for each other cuz in that moment tohru’s mask fell & kyo was the most honest with himself emotionally. That’s not sth you move from with the stupid ED song. They both try to carry out normally afterwards cuz they live together after all. The slightest touch brings..... sexual tension!!! it was so bad poor yuki left the house running!!!!!!!!

The writer cleverly escalates the sexual tension as they awkwardly try to find a talking topic, then dissolves it a bit when kto asks if tohru wants to go out together & where, then escalates it when tohru suggests buying eggs cuz she’s awkward, then dissolves it when kyo grumpily agrees but this is just grocery shopping” not a fun going out”, the escalates it when tohru said she’s happy for just bring together with him regardless of the location & kyo looses it! sexual tension explodes!

The target of the slow-burn isn’t the characters... the target is the audience! the writer plays with their emotions & cleverly puts the audience in a place where they desperately want these two idiots together but still remember why they aren’t! that’s very important. Having the readers cheer for a romantic relationship includes the readers understanding the obstacles ahead & how big they are & still cheer. If the obstacles are meh~ the readers will find the couple unrealistic, if the obstacles are so big & the couples emotions aren't buildup properly, then the couple themselves will feel meh~. Glad kyoru survived such writing mistakes both manga & anime ( anime hurt their characters more than their relationship).

-Yuki wants to move on from the unofficial son third wheeling his mom & her man:

The writer jokes abt yuki admitting he felt as a son watching his mon & her bf. I love tha this joke becuz it cleverly addresses the following points:

it is cleverly weaved in with the kyoru incident from last chapter. Sth happen & yuki doesn't know what is & doesn't want to! Yuki represents the audience I talked abt in the slow-burn point above. He is us. He’ll cheer for them to be together & will be so frustrated when they can’t. It adds to yuki confronting kyo at the climax!!! You see in the anime kyo/yuki stopped interacting much in se03. Then tada~~ big fight when it’s a must! & can’t be escaped... Here we still have kyo/yuki moments despite each boy moving away from his issues being the fault of the other. Basically better writing.....

The writer cleverly used this to address that yuki still feels like tohru’s son sometimes despite being more independent now, which is natural as you cant switch ur feelings with a button. But also the writer doesnt stay in this moment long & use it to build the next moment.. yuki/Aya , yuki/machi & aya/mine.... sadly all there dynamics are shortened in the anime like kyoru’s.

-I don’t think yuki/Aya moment suffered much from the cuts, the entire school parents meeting ep us enough to reconcile the brothers. Aya defended yuki that day & so did yuki. He completely accepted him & stood up to him in front of the mom.

- More aya/mine would’ve been good to see & I would’ve preferred it to yuki/motoko moments in the anime that served nothing. but aya/mine too are stand alone story. They’re the most alike couple in a healthy way. Aya is the guy who protected his woman the most. simply cuz he’s the snake. snakes are secretive. he kept her to himself, even from yuki!!! impressive.

- What I lament from the cut of this mini yuki adventure?

1- This: ( yuki’s facial expressions) This is sth the anime fears, either cuz (a) pretty yuki is 100% pretty all the time, so no expressiveness cuz it leads to showing eyebrows & hiding them under layers of hair is the A.B.C of pretty characters... (b) Yuki in the anime is a prince 98% of the time, except with kyo (they got rid of this in se03 & give them one honest/ugly moment together) & with kakeru (one tiny moment in se03 in match’’s focus ep & then quickly back to prince yuki!)..., ugh!!!!!! I hate how yuki is prince thro & thro in the anime!!that’s why they couldn’t get rid of any motoko content!!! he’s a prince there... heck! school girls float after him the graduation ceremony... what’s up with that!! lol.

2-. This: ( machi with the toy that tohru/kisa/kagura/momiji & kiro like! so cute!!! also, foreshadowing yuki’s future chosen extended family! (his bro & his wife), (yuki & his wife) & best friend/his brother in law! Also, yuki is so himself! no glitters, no bubbles & no pretending anger! <3

Side Notes:

The lovely @mizzraynelly made notice kto’s speech in ch109 abt not vising his mom’s grave! Even tho it’s such a minor line, it’s one of the biggest cuts that foreshadow the accumulation of kyo’s guilt towards his mom. Kyo’s thing is guilt towards ppl he loves & fear of hurting them, by keeping this feeling alive in readers’ minds, the writer is making sure that the climax will hurt like sharp knives cuz the readers are on the same wave liength as kyo!!! epic buildup consists of tiny subtle pieces!

Luckily, kyoru as a ship felt so strong in both manga & anime despite the later cutting half of their moments. Why? cuz the chosen cuts didnt affects the romantic relationship...no... the cuts affects the characters’ own personal struggle... most precisely tohru. Kyo’s own character struggles had better luck in the anime despite the cuts, simply cuz (a) was drawn with very expressive emotions & the anime team lingered on them in his scenes. (b) His character design as a whole was very expressive, the anime team didnt give him constant wide eyes like tohru & didn’t fear expr4essivness will affect for his “beauty “ like yuki. (c) kyo was given one ep per season for his issues which altho not much but way better than tohru (d) most important: kyo’s issues are very universal & very relatable” feeling guilt, mistakes & choosing wrong. That’s sth we all do!!! Tohru’s thing is grieve: this is very personal & most ppl experience it differently.

I love kyo’s oufit!!! we have a hint of this moment in se03, ep 10 when yuki was fighting kyo... but they made yuki see them shopping as opposed of him seeing them being sexually charged!

I’m so mad this kyoru moment is cut!!!!!! tohru as a woman with pending sexual emotions is so refreshing & underrated in the trope of “ girl saves guys”. Also, it contradicts the pure mom image that’s been suffocating her since se01 ep 1!!!!! oh now i know why it’s cut... That’s why! momma tohru is so pure for such things & only when it’s the last two eps, then will allow her to be a woman choosing to live away with her man by her own desire! Why the anime only allow things ti happen when there’s no escape!!! I’ve always felt tohru/kyo is the type of couple to be expressive emotionally & sexually with each other based on seeing that ALL of their romantic interaction involves body language & I’m so happy there’s a canon proof so early before the future glimpse in finale!!!!!!

I liked the aya-story, but it felt like the typical “ lesson of the day” formula, so I didnt analyze it much, but I enjoyed the brotherly interaction so much!! It had a gold mine of yuki being himself & so nit a prince! Im so happy I saw it! <3.

Every time yuki looked expressive is a happy moment for me!

#Fruits Basket #anime only #fruits basket manga #manga review #manga spoilers #sleepy paper #ch 110

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wretchedbitch · 3 years

Note

What happened in the end of Fruits basket 2001? Was it that bad?

𝑜𝒽𝒽 𝓂𝓎 𝓈𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝑒𝓇 𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓁𝒹

you’re asking the best & worst person about this LMAO

to me, the ending to 01 Fruits Basket is only as bad as it is canon divergent. otherwise, I really have no problem with it. In fact, I love it. Is it the canon ending to the story? No, but I don’t care it still made me bawl when I was 11 and makes me cry to this day so to everyone who’s cranky about all the canon divergence in the 01 anime just go re-read the manga & enjoy your canon compliant reboot with its bad cinematography I’m trying to have my hot girl summer over here with my canon divergent, mischaracterized Fruits Basket because at least it makes me feel something.

but, anyway lemme just crack my knuckles real quick & get tf into it

readmore for everyone else who doesn’t want my play-by-play but I really think you’re gonna want my play-by-play

SO like a lot of anime that came out in the 2000s they were all adaptations of unfinished manga which left a lot of questions not only unanswered but ... alternatively answered. AKA they deviated from the source material in minor to major MAJOR ways.

When the 01 Fruits Basket anime originally aired the manga had only been released up to volume seven which was as far as Ritsu’s character introduction. So the climax of the 01 anime revolves around the reveal of Kyo’s true form. Which, in hindsight, we know is not even half of Fruits Basket. But, because it was the conclusion to a 26 episode anime they had to tie up a lot of unfinished ends.

The last 3 episodes of the anime covers this: Kazuma’s arrival, Kyo running off into the woods after his true form is revealed, Kyo & Kazuma’s backstory & the story of Kazuma’s grandfather, & then Tohru goes after him and everyone is fine again : ) Where the story deviates is:

The issue isn’t resolved as quickly as it is in the manga because Tohru runs into the woods after Kyo, is shaken up, gets sick --- but then Akito shows up to rub her misery in her face because she “deserves” it for involving herself with the Sohmas in the first place.

Then Shigure shows up, wards Akito off, & starts crying on behalf of Tohru and this ordeal she has to go through. (Since you are asking me this question in the first place I’m assuming you have never seen the 01 anime --- any and all of Shigure’s scheming & darkness is completely exempt; the goofier aspects of his character are way more played up, mostly for comic relief, and he’s really nestled into the guardian role with no ulterior motives or anything. And, clearly expresses more empathy for Tohru).

Tohru, discouraged by Akito’s words and second guessing whether or not she even belongs with the Sohmas because she’s feeling way in over her head with Kyo’s true form, goes to her mother’s grave for comfort. (A LOT of people are upset that she doesn’t go to Kyo right away just like the manga --- I personally don’t mind the deviation, but I digress) Hana and Uo show up after Hana ~sensed~ that they just needed to be there. Tohru’s really moping about it, REALLY set on not being able to go back. Uo tries to console her but Hana INSISTS that ~whatever it is~ that Tohru needs to do, she’s the only one who can do it and at one point she PUSHES Uo to stop her from consoling Tohru it’s wild.

Eventually Tohru realizes yeah, Hana is right. She’s gotta do this --- so she does go to Kyo & the rest of the scene unfolds just like the manga EXCEPT --- and this is my favorite part ---

while all this was going on, Yuki & Kagura were having a conversation inside the house about how the cat and the rat hate each other and Kagura is like “But...who decided it had to be that way???”

So BEST thing in the world BEST 👏🏻 THING 👏🏻

YUKI GOES AFTER KYO TOO. Tohru’s there, Yuki’s there, the gang is all fuckin here & Tohru is trying to reach Kyo but he’s being aggressive and dismissive and tries to run away bUT OH NO YUKI FUCKING GRABS HIM & WRESTLES HIS MONSTER ASS TO THE GROUND, ROLLING AROUND IN THE DIRT AND SCREAMING ABOUT HOW “IS THIS ALL WE DO? RUN AWAY? WELL I DON’T WANNA DO IT ANYMORE” it’s fucking beautiful and THEN Yuki is like “TOHRU YOU GOTTA TELL HIM THE TRUTH YOU HAVE TO TELL HIM HOW YOU FEEL”

So then cue Tohru saying what she says in canon & her and Kyo have their moment, he hugs her, she carries a crying cat home --- its beat for beat. Only they get back and Shigure is so relieved he’s laughing about it --- in context it’s pretty wholesome IMHO you just gotta suspend the right disbelief if you’re not butthurt about it

ANYWAY

we’re not done yet

The next morning Tohru asks Shigure if she can go to see Akito and long story short they all go -- Shigure’s all dressed up in a suit all nice, Yuki is there, Hatori is there it’s a real fuckin come up (Kyo is stuck waiting outside).

Akito is being tempestuous as fuck, and asks Tohru why she showed up. When she says “I don’t know” Akito lashes out and grabs a fistful of her hair tO WHICH SHIGURE & YUKI RUSH TO HER DEFENSE AND RESTRAIN AKITO. So it’s dramatic, right our girl Tohru is in Akito’s clutches (oh -- who btw is male in this anime because the manga never published the gender reveal. & also he is not ‘god’ per say, but bears the “full weight of the zodiac curse” which is deduced to an explanation of “he doesn’t have much longer to live and that was decided at birth” weird ik just work with me here).

Tohru immediately begins to empathize with Akito, try to connect with him over getting him to ~talk about his feelings~ saying “it must have been sad and scary to know you were going to die” At first he’s not having it, throwing a bitch fit and ordering Hatori to erase Tohru’s memories (which he WONT) BUT THEN to EVERYONE’S SURPRISE AKITO OPENS UP it’s some real melodrama.

So he lets Tohru go, everyone is relieved that their best girl made it out alive, she’s allowed to go on living with Shigure & the boys and they can keep being a little cute found family, and then Hatori & Shigure say something about how even though she doesn’t think so, Tohru made a difference going to see Akito that day & that’s it that’s the end.

I hope this answered your question : )

#badness is subjective #& you are in the house of my subjectively objective opinion #that 01 fruits basket is good actually #hannah answers #fruits basket

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 4 years

Note

I'd like to request the usual "(characters) reaction to their s/o being killed" with the sdra2 characters if ye dont mind

Ah a classic angst-fueled request! I’ll just do some of the characters.

.........

Yuri

“...моя любовь?" (”..my love?”)

His whole world came crashing down at the sight of your body--ruined by the killer’s trap/weapon(s).

He’s not much help in the investigation, though he says he’ll try looking around your room for clues (when in reality he just curls up on your bed and cries until Monocrow summons everyone to the trial)

The only time he speaks in the trial is when he’s shouting at the males--suspecting all of them for doing something so horrible to you.

If a male did kill you....that only fuels his hatred.

If a female killed you...he feels hurt and devastated.

Why did it have to be you? He tried offering himself up as a victim, even though you convinced him not to do that.

Yet instead they took away someone so precious to him--the one he loved more than all the stars in the sky.

Yuki

Not seeing you around when the body discovery announcement played made him assume the worst.

But he prayed his luck would help him somehow as he ran to the location-

Only to stop as those who noticed him enter suddenly gather around the body, including Sora and Shinji, as though trying to prevent him from seeing who it was..

“What are you doing?!! Where’s [y/n]?!! I NEED TO SEE THEM!!!”

"B-Bro...I’m..I’m so sorry.” The firefighter can only mumble in sorrow as he finally moves aside, revealing your corpse.

Yuki just drops to his knees, screaming and crying and begging for this not to be real.

He remains inconsolable the entire time everyone’s investigating, shutting down even when asked about his alibi during the trial.

“Does it matter what I say...? At this point, I-I’d rather die..s/o was all the hope I had left.."

Only Sora snaps him out of it, insisting you wouldn’t want him giving up now.

Teruya

‘Oh no....nonononononono-’

It’s a sight he’s gotten used to over and over again..but it’s not any less painful knowing it was you who became that grisly sight.

In fact it’s even more painful for him.

He thought he kept a close eye on you. He promised you wouldn’t die on his watch.

So why did he fail again? What went wrong?

Why does everyone he loved keep dying?

It’s hard to keep pushing forward, but he knows it’s what you’d want him to do.

Given his habit of collecting stuff, he’ll probably wear a necklace/bracelet/some article of clothing that belonged to you as a reminder of the love you’ve shown him.

He hardly blames the culprit, only himself for his failure and that damned wizard for putting everyone into this terrible situation.

Mikado

He hears the announcement and thinks to himself ‘ah, it’s about time! I wonder if Iroha finally got her act together-’

But when he sees your body...he feels his heart crack into pieces.

His classmates had only shown sympathy towards him when you two were dating--as you were able to see good behind the mastermind’s sinister masks.

With you gone, though..they aren’t sure what to say to him..

Nobody wanted to risk being burnt to a crisp.

Despite everything, Mikado manages to force a smile, reassuring himself that your death would go on to serve a greater purpose in his plan.

As long as Void's goal was completed in the end, it’s okay....right?

After it’s revealed Iroha did kill you (albeit accidentally) and was executed, the wizard returned to his room.

Only then did he drop the act, tears streaming down his real face as he cried in anger and his magic spiraled out of control

Monocrow had to replace a lot of the burnt furniture soon after.

Nikei

‘Another dead body announcement? Great..’

And he was almost finished with his recent scoop on how brave you were throughout this whole killing game.

You’ve always joked about how he found every bit of your personality “newsworthy”. But it was true.

Just thinking of your flustered reaction to the paper he was gonna give you made him happy.

But...the sight of your motionless body stripped that happiness from him instantly. He nearly broke his pen in half.

He’s more cooperative in this investigation than before, writing down every detail/clue he can find. He wanted, needed to understand how and why you died.

When the truth comes out, though, Nikei only feels emptiness--blankly staring at your murderer’s execution.

Now he stays up all night writing articles about grief, loss, sorrow, and the like--tears staining every page.

Hibiki & Kanade

They’re in absolute hysteria. Or at least Hibiki is.

She has to be restrained by her sister and Setsuka so she doesn’t tamper with the crime scene. But she can only wail and shout at you to wake up.

Though when the reality sets in she’s unable to handle the investigation, so Kanade does most of the work.

Don’t get her wrong, she’s heartbroken, too. She loved you just as much as her sister, feeling disappointed in herself for not keeping a closer eye on you.

"I know it hurts, big sis, but crying isn’t going to bring s/o back to life. So we need to get through this trial for their sake, okay?”

It’s unbelievably hard, as Hibiki struggles to say your name without bursting into tears, but she tries her best to calm herself during the trial.

At every breakfast since then, it’s been odd having that chair between her and Kanade be completely empty.

Setsuka

She is one distraught mother hen.

You were just smiling and laughing with her this morning, contemplating life as you two walked around the new island.

And now..you’re gone? Just like that?

How could she let this happen...?

She’s struggling to keep herself from falling apart as she investigates everything, promising you justice.

Though she can barely rally everyone’s spirits in your trial, despite her forceful smiles.

It just hurts too much every time she sees your gray portrait beside her.

Once it’s all over she cries into Hibiki’s arms, and the vocalist consoles her without question--knowing the taller woman always did the same for her.

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cottoncandyjester · 4 years

Note

Wait....Top Wholesome Y/N gets terrifying jealous. Can I request that!? Y/N wrap their arms around the yandere's waist (hugging them from behind) and lay their forehead on their shoulder. Y/N takes a deep sigh and looks at them with a glare full of anger (or horniness...but mostly Y/N being piss off.) Y/N whisper in their ear, "Let's go home...I need to release some steam." Yandere is unable to walk the next morning. (Can you write it about the yanderes who are just...bottoms? Or become a bottom when Y/N is a top? Thank you)

I just adore the thought of the yanderes being bottoms to a possessive y/n

Skipped hikaru cause he has a whole story bout him being a bottom

Didn't add scarlett cause there is no way she is a bottom, the only way she would ever bottom is if maybe she was with a feral reader

This story contains: smut, jealous reader, reader giving off soft yandere vibes

Theodore

Theo was incredibly handsome so it's only natural that someone would wish to flirt with him. He had took you to one of his favorite coffee shop for a relaxing date, all it took was you leaving to the bathroom only to return to have a flock of girls around him. "Oh, well thank you for such kind words but I'm on a date" it seems they weren't getting the hint so you walked over before simply plopping down in theo's lap a sharp glare on your face while the male pushed up his glasses his face red before he placed a hand on your thigh. "Theo, let's go home now."

Your hands gripped the male's hair as he felt like his hips were breaking from you slamming down on his cock over and over and over. "Y-y/n~ y-you're being too rough on me i-i cant-" his shaky words were met with a rough kiss before you pulled back watching his eyes get teary. "Who owns you and this cock?" Your voice was low and filled with a burning rage that you just had to release. With that you continued to ride him in such a way that drove him absolutely insane, you were definitely in control of this situation "y-you do! I-im all yours!"

Axis

"oh so you're blind? Poor baby. Must be hard on you."

Axis nervously stood waiting for you to show up to the movie theater for your date and while waiting some older women decided that he was just too adorable to pass up. The male tried to explain that he was on a date but it seems they weren't getting it "y-you all a-are really k-kind but I'm waiting for my-" his words were cut off when a scent hit his nose and like an excited dog he turned his head towards the smell before feeling a soft hand against his arm. It's you! He knew that smell anywhere! You wrapped your arms around his waist your breathing tickling his neck.

"hey babe, let's go home and watch movies instead okay?"

Axis drooled as he felt you grip his hair yanking his head close to your sex making him pleasure you while you pumped your fingers deeper into his hole. "You're such a sweetie, but you shouldn't be so kind to strangers ax it makes me sad" your pouting tone made the male whine and whimper as he trailed his tongue along your more sensitive of areas

"i-i never wanna make you sad..never! P-please forgive me y/n!"

Salem

Salem had his nature of docile and calm, moments where you two can go on a date on public without making a scene. Though feeling someone rub against him always riled him up so when you excused yourself to the bathroom while you do were eating breakfast at a diner it wasn't long until he had some flirty strangers sit beside him and rub along his thigh trying to take him home.

"you're hair is so pretty, I've never seen a boy with such pretty long hair" their voice was making salem's head spin though he wasn't sure if that was good or bad. His instant thought was downright gruesome they weren't you, so it was okay to eat them..right?

Salem started to drool which they must've taken as intense pleasure cause it wasn't long until he was backed into the corner of the booth trying to hold in his cannibalistic urges while he felt hands trail up his thighs. And soon the feeling was whipped away as you pulled the stranger away before grabbing salem's hand your eyes cold and filled with rage. It was time to go home

"who owns you?! Who owns everything about you?!"

Your voice was drowned out by salem's loud squeals and moans as you thrusted deep into his hole your hands gripping the leash connected to the collar around his neck that choked him. "Y/n! Y/n! Y/n!" His chanted got more and more whinier as you fucked him harder until he was sobbing and shaking under you. Salem was such a good boy

Prince

Prince was a total ladies man or at least he was until he met you, he had to let all his many one night stands know that he was off the market though some just didn't get the memo. "Come now princey, you really gonna say no to me? Don't you remember what we did right here after hours...we were so loud I'm sure the whole area heard it" prince nervously gazed at the female who sat at his bar clearly wanting another ride. His main worry was you coming back thinking he was unfaithful.

"Sorry but I don't put my dick just anywhere anymore"

"but you could, you always hated commitment so why bother now?"

Before prince can utter a word you were hopping over the bar without a single care in the world. "Hey babe, you done working?"

Prince admired your badass nature and simply nodded ready to go, though he missed that deadly glare you shot towards the slut.

"if your groupies can only see you now, whining and whimpering to feel an ounce of pleasure" you spoke lowly as prince bucked his hips up as you stroked his cock and fingered his hole but gave a frustrated huff when you stopped for the third time that moment, just as he was close you would stop and he was going crazy.

"p-please, have mercy"

"I'll think about it."

Yuki

Yuki gave off huge 'dont bother me' vibes but even still with that people would come up to him thinking they have a chance. You two were at the arcade and had split up since he had to use the bathroom, as he started to walk back to where you were he bumped into someone causing him to stumble back lightly. He looked and saw that it wasn't you so he proceeded to keep walking without speaking a word.

"don't leave a guy hanging now hot stuff!" The male stranger followed yuki who now scrolled through his phone ignoring the stranger but soon noticed they blocked his path. With a frustrated sigh he looked up his green eyes clearly bored and uninterested

"you're quite the looker..how about we go out together?"

"no."

They definitely wasn't expecting his dry and short response but when yuki suddenly felt himself being touched he cringed lightly making an expression one can see as cute. Having someone touch his chest that wasn't you gave him bad vibes, he didn't like that. Before he could take action you were at his side hugging against him calming his nerves down

"please don't touch him okay? He has anxiety" your sweet tone did not match your sharp glare or light scowl. With that you dragged yuki along who was more than eager to cling to you.

Yuki panted softly his back arching as you thrusted slowly inside of him making it unbearably slow, he needed more so much more and your teasing was making him crazy. "Come now, you can be louder than that can't you? Tell me what you want yuki"

"y-you, I want you..please y/n"

Rocket

Your beefed up boyfriend always got attention wherever he went, so going to the beach was probably a terrible idea honestly. You two found a perfect spot and once all set up rocket excitedly stripped out of his shirt, you definitely noticed all the stares from both male and females. Of course it wasn't long until a group of girls came up to him blushing and giggling, clearly wanting to ask him out

You sat next to him on the towel while he started to put sunscreen on, your glare was sharp as the girls started to flirt and gawk. "You're really ripped, do you work out or something?" Rocket who was oblivious as always proceeded to entertain them with his innocent answer. "Well we're going to play volleyball, of your sibling doesn't mind you leaving then maybe you can join us?"

SIBLING?! utter rage filled you but you forced a smile now standing up, rocket glanced your way and was about to correct the girls but you simply interrupted him. "Hey babe I think it's gonna start raining soon we should go" you were met by a pouty rocket who really wanted to go swimming but the two of you packed it up and went home.

The water grew cold as you stroked rocket's thick cock while standing behind him trailing kisses along his back feeling him shudder and squirm against your touch. "B-babe, I'm gonna- ngh! So good" his small moans always made you even hornier and it wasn't long until you had him pressed against the shower wall sliding inside of him and feeling his large body shiver at the feeling. Your hands going straight to his chest now groping it and squeezing his nipples

"I'll show you who you belong to"

Yuuta& yuuji

Having two boys meant twice the flirting and twice the annoying sluts bothering them. You three had taken a vacation to disneyworld and when your three weren't in the hotel fucking each other's brains out you were at the amusment park walking around and doing things.

"hey how about we ride that?" Yuuji pointed at a big roller coaster that made both you and yuuta worry about your life. As you three waited in line yuuta felt someone brush their hand against his waist, thinking that it was you he settled down not minding it until he nothing both your hands gripped yuuji's arm.

with wide eyes he turned only to see a random girl touching him but to make matters worse it seems yuuji got targeted as well by a boy, the twins had a look of discomfort. "Sorry me and my brother were wondering if you two would be open to a double date, you two are very cute and-" you cut them off with a loud fake yawn causing both boys to look towards you in worry their attention on you now.

"oh sweetie! Are you tired? We can go back to the hotel if you want?"

"damn y/n if you're sleepy you should have let us know!"

Wasn't long until you held both boys hands the three of you walking back to the hotel while you shot the strangers a hard glare.

"you two really are so cute, no wonder people fall for you." You eyed the two boys who both had their hands tied above their heads, blindfolds on while a line of sex toys sat at the end of the bed. You've been teasing their holes for the last hour and they couldn't take it much longer.

You pumped the toys into each of their holes watching their reactions, yuuji always gave the cutest moans while yuuta whined and let out small cries of bliss.

#yandere imagines #yandere ocs #yandere

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dudeandduchess · 4 years

Text

Masquerade: Sanemi x Princess!F!S/O (Mulan AU, SFW/NSFW Scenario)

Summary: (Y/n) was tired of living a sheltered and self-serving life that she knew would only end up with her getting married off to a stranger for peace talks, so before her father could even think of plucking her out of her usual dynamic, she had made a run for it— straight into the last place where he would think to look for her: a military training camp. But that didn’t mean that other people wouldn’t catch her in her own masquerade; most especially a silver-haired captain.

Note: SFW and NSFW scenes will be interspersed, so this will be the warning for the entire story. Also, it says that it’s a Mulan AU, but this is just very loosely based on it. I also said that I’ll drop the entire fic, but this isn’t even done. So I just decided to share this part with y’all. Word Count: 6,335

Warnings: Smut, Adult Themes, Language, Voyeurism, Oral Sex, D/s Themes, Vaginal Sex, Vanilla Sex, Dirty Talk, Creampie, First Time Sex, Vaginal Fingering

***

To say that (Y/n) was tired would be the understatement of the century. At that point, she was ready to pass out on her horse’s back— completely prepared to let her eyes drift shut and allow herself a few minutes, or maybe an hour or so, of well-needed sleep.

Her behind was aching from having had to sit on her horse for so long, and her back was close to screaming in protest without any support to hold it up for the duration of her journey. (Y/n) was so close to just throwing in the towel and accepting her fate: getting married to a total stranger.

Maybe it was delusional of her to think so, but she had always wanted to marry for love; to be with someone whom she knew would care for and cherish her with their entire being. The last thing that she wanted was someone who only thought of her as nothing more than a trophy, and staying at her father’s palace was a sure guarantee of that.

The tunic, as well as the hakama, that she wore did little to ward off the cold— which made her grateful for the extra layer that her chest bindings provided as a barrier from the cold. It made breathing difficult, but it was something that she had to endure, if only to make her ruse more believable.

To add to all of her efforts, she had also taken to cutting her hair so that it fell to her shoulders instead; a well acceptable length for men, without hacking all of her beloved hair off.

On either side of her horse, the armor that she’d haphazardly pilfered from one of her father’s guards clunked together in a muffled cacophony; it provided some respite from the eerily silent night, and (Y/n) couldn’t have been more thankful for that.

She knew that she was close to going crazy, not only because she had been bold enough to run away from home; but also because of the fact that she was headed right towards a place that could very well make or break her plans.

“Oh dear,” She muttered to herself— momentarily stopping her horse right in its tracks, as she surveyed the camp that was nothing more than a small speck in the distance. Her heart began hammering in her chest, making her absolutely breathless as she reached up and laid a hand over it. “You can do this, (Y/n). It’s just until you get sent on a mission.”

For all her pep talk, however, she still felt a crippling sense of dread bubble up inside her; as if it was warning her of all the consequences of her actions.

But there was no turning back at that point. She was sure that everyone in the palace was already looking for her, but all they would find was a letter that said no more than three words to her father.

I’m sorry, father.

Guilt stirred inside her at that, but she pushed it down as soon as it reared its unappealing head; before spurring her horse forward. All the while, she couldn’t help but keep hoping, and praying, for fate to work with her.

***

The moment that she reached the camp, she immediately dismounted her horse and kept a hold of its reigns— gently leading it along, with her grip increasingly getting tighter and tighter, as the fear of someone knocking her to the ground and stealing her only companion played in her mind.

It didn’t help at all that most of the men in the camp looked so ominous and foreboding— especially the ones whom were sharpening their swords with scowls on their faces.

To sum it up, the camp was everything that her nursemaids and escorts had warned her against. The area was clean enough for normal standards, but to her— whom had grown up in the lap of luxury— it was shoddy and filthy. Hell, it made her hairs stand up on end, especially when a sweaty man had brushed against her arm; leaving a really disgusting patch of sweat in his wake.

She almost had to rush over to a private area, all so she could wait out the nausea that took over her entirety.

Immediately, however, she made a face down at her arm— before doing the most unladylike thing, and wiping her forearm against the back of her tunic. “You can do this, (Y/n). You can do this.”

She kept repeating the mantra in her head, even though a tiny voice inside her kept telling her to give up and go home. But, with a hefty sigh, she reached into the rucksack attached to her horse’s left side, and pulled out the scroll— wishing to high heaven that there was a concierge at the camp to help her get settled in, or maybe even a welcoming committee to guide her to where she needed to go.

But, alas, it was a military camp. So she had no choice but to rough it. After all, she was the one whom had chosen to forsake her old life in the first place.

“U-um!” (Y/n) cleared her throat then, putting in the effort to make her voice sound a few octaves deeper, as she raced over to one of the uniformed soldiers walking within the camp.

Awkwardly, she bowed down— forcing herself to let go of years of etiquette lessons and royal protocol— as she bent down lightly at the waist. Thankfully, her internal dilemma at possibly being found out all because she wasn’t used to bowing didn’t show on the outside. In fact, the soldier seemed to puff his chest out in pride.

(Y/n) couldn’t help but internally curl her upper lip at the man’s concealed arrogance, knowing full well that he would be in a dogeza if he only knew who she really was. However, that was only if he knew her real identity; and she had no intention of outing herself so soon— or at all, really.

So, she swallowed her pride and held out her summons scroll; waiting with tense anticipation if the man would even know that she had taken it from one of the numerous summons scrolls in her father’s war counsel room.

She didn’t even know whom the scroll was for, and she sincerely regretted not even taking a look at it before she entered the camp.

“Miyuki?” The soldier spoke in a questioning tone, making her think for a moment before realizing that he had been pertaining to the name on the parchment.

“Yes. Miyuki… Yuki.” (Y/n) wanted to hit herself for coming up with the most obviously fake name in the world, but it was too late for regret— as even the soldier quirked his eyebrow at that, chuckling under his breath before handing the scroll back to her.

“You belong with the other new recruits. Go to the supplies shed at the edge of camp and ask for your provisions.” With one last snarky smirk, the man tipped his head at her, before going on with his day.

And (Y/n) could only watch with narrowed eyes, as the man sauntered away from her— wishing to all the deities to give her the patience to deal with blatantly being dismissed like that.

She had to have the patience for it, if she wanted to last more than a week at the camp.

So, with pursed lips, she set out to go to the supplies shed— all so she could get started on starting her life as a soldier.

It took hours, and a lot of quiet snickers from the other men in the camp, but she had managed to finally pitch her tent up. Though, she had to tie one end up on a small tree; just so it would stay up.

Her days with her etiquette teachers could have been considered a walk in the park, compared to having to rough it out on her own. She had even missed dinner, all because she hadn’t known that the evening bell had been a signal for meal time. So, she had made do with the bread that had hardened considerably during her day-long ride to the camp.

And so, after dining on her scrumptious piece of bread, she had deigned to get ready for bed— only to look down at herself and finally notice how filthy she was. Her tunic had been smeared with dirt, and her arms were also blotched with patches of soil here and there— which had her curling her upper lip in disgust.

She couldn’t very well sleep in her current state, but she also hadn’t seen any enclosed baths or bathhouses for the common foot soldiers. The fact that she wouldn’t be able to wash herself made her heart sink, until she remembered seeing an unattended bathhouse right by the supply shed.

The sign outside said that it was only for the captain’s use, but she figured that it was already way too late for him to take a bath— and all the other soldiers would have already been asleep. So, with a half-cocked plan in mind, (Y/n) crept out of her tent with a fresh set of clothes and shushed her horse, before sneaking over to get her much-needed bath.

***

Sanemi sighed, clearly exasperated at having had to deal with the councilman that had been assigned to him. The man was an absolute piece of work, as he recorded everything that Sanemi had said and done all day— down to his sighs and irritated scoffs. And, to top it all off, he had complained non-stop about the lack of amenities within the camp.

Which was why Sanemi was more than thankful for the silence that wrapped around the camp, as he made his way over to his private bath house.

“Fucking idiots,” The captain grumbled under his breath, needing some sort of release as he felt the tension weigh down on his shoulders even more. He was so stressed out about the oncoming war, and the time-pressure that had been added to his plate.

The Shogun wanted a fully functional army by the end of three months, but he had seen the men that had been sent to him— and all of them were no more than boys with the bodies of men.

He shook his head at that, clearing his thoughts for the moment, as she stepped up to the well-lit bath house; making him do a double take when he noticed that the lantern inside was on— which it shouldn’t have been.

Unless someone was blatantly disobeying camp rules and was trespassing in there.

Slowly, he crept up to the entrance of the bath house, making sure to keep his movements quiet as he slid the door open— quickly sliding into the sizeable room, and setting his things down on a wicker table by the door.

He could hear the sound of water sloshing around inside the main bath area— right where the onsen was— and he quickly tiptoed towards the entryway for it, peeking through the slightly parted shoji to see who had even dared to use his property; or property that had been made for his exclusive use, rather.

Only, instead of seeing one of the men in the camp, his eyes widened as he took in a woman’s tempting figure in the night. She stood by the lip of the onsen, testing the water’s temperature by dipping her toes into the pool, before letting out such a pleasured sigh that went straight to Sanemi’s cock.

Lilac-colored eyes traced over every patch of skin that was bared to him, lingering on her breasts, before going down to her thighs, and then flickering over to her pretty cunt that was nestled between her thighs.

“Fuck,” The captain whispered, licking his lips and swallowing thickly— his gaze never leaving the woman, even as she stepped into the steaming water. Deliberately, he palmed his slowly hardening cock through his pants— squeezing lightly, in a subtle attempt for a taste of pleasure.

A soft groan left his lips at that, moving his fingers to squeeze his balls as the woman sidled closer to where he was standing by the door. Only, his breath got caught in his throat for an entirely different reason, when the light from one of the lanterns illuminated her features.

There was no mistaking that face, even if it was bare from all of the make-up, and was not being framed by the artfully feminine hairstyles that he’d always seen her don in the palace. He had gazed upon that face so many times before, that he was willing to bet his rank and title that he had been looking right at (L/n) (Y/n), the daughter of the Shogun.

Sanemi’s cock got even harder at that; remembering the way that she had gracefully sashayed into the dining area— after a war council meeting had been held at the Shogun’s palace. His fascination with her had started then, but he’d never let it grow more than that.

But, given the chance that he’d had at that moment, he couldn’t help but give in to his baser urges and keep palming his cock through his pants; massaging his balls and rubbing the heel of his palm against his length.

A quiet groan left his lips at the action, as his eyes threatened to flutter shut at the pleasurable sensation. Still, he forced himself to keep his eyes trained on her, watching her every move as she scooped some water up in her hands, and let it flow down her neck and chest.

Sanemi was so tempted to pull his cock out and keep stroking himself to the view that she made, but he knew that he shouldn’t cross that line— not with her. He wanted her in his bed, not as mere fuel for his lust.

And so, he let go of his erection at that— taking a deep breath to center himself once more, before sliding the shoji open. His eyes were narrowed at her, watching as her expression morphed into blatant shock, before turning into mortification.

It even took her a few seconds to cross her arms over her chest, as her brain could play nothing but the possible punishments that was going to be handed down to her— all because she couldn’t take not bathing for a day.

Only a few hours had passed since she’d entered the camp, yet she knew that she’d already gotten caught— by the captain, no less.

What made things infinitely worse, however, was the shine of recognition in his eyes; even in the dark night, she could pick out the familiarity in his look.

He knew who she was, and it was too late to dissuade him from his assumptions.

“State your name and business,” Sanemi stated with a coy smirk, being formal even though he knew that he had her cornered. She couldn’t possibly begin to explain why she was bathing in the Captain’s bath house at that hour, let alone explain the fact that she was a woman in an all-man camp.

Or even begin to explain what the daughter of the Shogun was doing so far away from home.

“I…” (Y/n) bit down on her bottom lip, trying to think of a good out to the situation, but all that she could focus on was how she was going to be sent back home if she didn’t think of something fast. Her own thoughts did nothing to help her; in fact, they only burdened her even more by making her panic.

Sanemi scoffed at that, not even holding back the smirk that widened across his lips as he lifted a hand up and crooked a finger at her— beckoning her to come over to where he was. “Now.”

(Y/n) felt as if she had been doused with ice cold water then, despite the warm water still enveloping her from below her breasts to her feet. She couldn’t will her legs to move the barest inch, so she was stuck standing in place with her eyes trained on the silver-haired captain.

“Tsk,” Sanemi clicked his tongue in mild irritation when she didn’t move. And, at the evidence of his annoyance, the young woman finally started moving— gingerly lifting herself out of the onsen, and baring her body once more to Sanemi’s hungry eyes.

He fully expected her to walk over to him meekly, with her head bowed and her arms wrapped around her to allow her what modesty she had left; but she did the exact opposite. Instead of bowing her head in shame, she lifted her head— as if she were about to attend a formal ceremony, instead of walking naked towards a military officer.

Despite her bravado however, her eyes still showed uncertainty and fear of the consequences.

When she was a few feet away from Sanemi, he quirked an eyebrow at her; briefly letting his gaze linger on her tempting lips, before going back up to her eyes. “Tell me, princess, what’s a woman like you doing out here?”

He wasn’t dumb; he knew full well what one of her possible reasons for being there was. He’d seen it enough with other noble women, much like herself.

She wanted to break free of the chains that held her down. And the only solution to that was either to perish, or to run away.

Instead of replying, however, (Y/n) remained silent— even going as far as to turn her gaze right on him, and deliberately look away; as if she had just dismissed him.

But Sanemi was having none of her attitude.

He closed the distance between them, taking hold of her face by her chin, and turning her full attention on him. “I asked you a question, Ohime-sama.”

(Y/n)’s teeth gritted at the backhandedly delivered term, as she tried to get herself away from his grip— to no avail. “If you’re going to send me back to my father, do it now. And do it silently.”

Another scoff left Sanemi’s lips at that, as he leaned closer to her face— as a way to intimidate her. “You’re not really in a position to order me around.”

“Then tell me what your condition is.”

A grin tugged up at the corners of Sanemi’s lips at that, his cock twitching within the confines of his pants as he imagined the topmost things that he wanted to do to her. “You, on your knees… with my cock in your mouth. And you with your legs spread for me, warming my bed every night.”

The princess’ eyes widened at that, as she had never been spoken to in such an uncouth manner before— yet, she couldn’t deny that his filthy words made her feel much hotter than was appropriate.

“I’ll keep your secret, and even take care of you while you’re here, if you do those things for me.” Sanemi wasn’t even sure why he was propositioning the Shogun’s daughter— of all people— but looking at her made him so needy for her touch that it wasn’t funny.

If he were to be honest, he would say that she was the only person that he’d been attracted to in a long time. But he couldn’t let her know that, on the off-chance that she turned the tables on him.

(Y/n) had never been with a man before, let alone kissed one, but she had eavesdropped on her own escorts and lady’s maids to know about the nitty gritty details that sex entailed, so it wasn’t as if she was jaded about it. In fact, she had long since wanted to try it— but no man would ever have the courage to bed her out of marriage, so she had let the notion go.

As she let her gaze flicker over the Captain once more— memorizing his sharp features, and admiring the rugged handsomeness he possessed— she found herself wanting to agree to his conditions. It was going to be a mutually beneficial arrangement, if she was sure that he was going to hold up his end of the deal.

And he really wasn’t that bad to look at, so it added to the lure of saying yes.

“If you don’t hold up your end of the deal, I swear to make your life hell the moment I get back to the palace,” (Y/n) threatened coolly, completely bluffing as she knew that she would most likely be kept in a secluded guest villa for the rest of her years, if she were to ever return home.

Still, for her bold-faced lie, she seemed pretty convincing— judging by the way that the Captain’s lips turned down into a brief scowl. His grip on her chin tightened at that, and he leaned forward to close the gap between them— finally giving in to the temptation to taste her lips. “Sealed with a kiss, Ohime-sama. Now, get down on your knees.”

Deciding to just follow his words, instead of even trying to spite him with her brattiness, (Y/n) lifted her hands up to the man’s chest— dragging them down his body as she sank down on her knees in front of him. “Bold words for a man who hasn’t even introduced himself.”

Her snarky words grated on Sanemi’s nerves, but he swallowed back his ire and simply watched her as she unfastened his pants— pulling the garment down and freeing his erection from his underwear, as well. His cock immediately sprung up in front of her, making her eyes slightly widen as she took in just how thick and long he was. “Shinazugawa Sanemi. You’d do best to remember that-”

Sanemi was cut off, however, when (Y/n) encircled his length with an uncertain hand; all before boldly licking at the head of his cock. She was going by pure instinct, and praying all the while that what she was doing was pleasurable. But, by the way that Sanemi sighed heavily and placed a hand on the back of her head, she construed that she was doing it right.

And when she wrapped her mouth around him, it took everything inside the Captain to not shove his cock down her throat. His fingers curled within her hair— gripping the strands tightly, as he gently rocked his hips into her hot mouth.

If he wasn’t mistaken, she had lived a sheltered life— hence being inexperienced in sex. So, he had to be patient and indulgent with her; teach her how things worked, lest he wanted their deal to fall through with his aggressiveness.

And so, with a much gentler grip on her hair, Sanemi tilted her face up so that their eyes could meet. It was shameful because the sight of her on her knees— with his cock in her mouth, and her eyes looking directly up at him— almost had him cumming on the spot. “S-slowly, lick up the underside of my cock and take it in at your pace.”

It was going to be a lot of work, but it wasn’t as if he wasn’t going to have fun molding her to his personal taste.

***

Apparently, the promise that Sanemi had made her about ‘taking care of her’ didn’t entail any special treatment during training. He was ruthless with her, especially when it came to hand-to-hand combat; and it didn’t help that most of the men around her thought that she was a weakling for always being the one to fall behind.

Especially that time when they were running drills up in the mountains. No one had said anything in Sanemi’s presence but, once he’d left, all of the whispers began about her being the weak link— even having the audacity to have disappeared for so long, and being a burden on Captain Shinazugawa overall.

She couldn’t very well tell them that Sanemi had dragged her off to a secluded alcove right by the trail, all so he could get his cock sucked.

Hell, she couldn’t even tell them the truth that he had long discovered that she wasn’t whom she said she was, and that the reason why she was still at the camp was all due to the fact that she was warming Sanemi’s bed at night— at least, to an extent.

If she said that, it was a sure way to get her sent back to the palace— and also a guaranteed way to get Sanemi stripped of his rank.

For all of his faults, however, (Y/n) had to give it to him: he was an absolute gentleman—not in the way he handled her when he wanted a blowjob, or wanted to eat her out, but in the way that he didn’t push her past what she was comfortable with.

Two weeks had already passed since that night in the bath house, yet he hadn’t pushed her past oral sex. And when things got too heated between them, he always settled for cumming in her mouth or on her pussy. He had never taken his cock and made good on one of his promises to fuck her good as— according to the Captain himself— she wasn’t ready yet.

Because, despite (Y/n) bravado and curiosity winning out that night, there were still times when she felt so lost within herself— always second-guessing whether she was really doing the right thing, if only for the briefest second.

And Sanemi always picked up on that momentary hesitation; no matter how quickly the uncertainty flickered in her eyes.

With a heavy sigh, (Y/n) poked her head out from her tent, checking if the coast was clear before sneaking out. Her footsteps had gotten much lighter since the start of training— much lighter than it ever was when she was living at the palace— and it really helped her travel from her own tent to Sanemi’s at night.

“Oi, Miyuki!” Her eyes widened at her fake name being called out and, with an uneasy grin on her lips, she turned around and awkwardly waved at one of her squad mates.

If she remembered correctly, his name was Kamado Tanjirō. And the two other men who were always with him were Agatsuma and Hashibira. They were the only three who didn’t give her hell at the camp, so she tried to be nice to them— as much as possible.

“Where are you going off to at this hour?” Tanjirō asked with that characteristically sweet smile on his face, making (Y/n)’s stomach twist with guilt at having to lie to someone so pure hearted.

“I… the Captain… wanted to see me,” She answered awkwardly, tacking her words off with a grimace that she hoped was convincing enough for him not to ask anything more. And, technically, it wasn’t a lie: Sanemi did want to see her, not just for official reasons.

She could feel her pussy get wet at the images that flickered in her mind; all of them with her in varying degrees of pleasure, with either Sanemi’s hands or mouth on her body.

And before Tanjirō could say anything to that, she already excused herself and hightailed it out of there— making a direct bee line for Sanemi’s tent, all while praying that no one other than that one person had seen her out and about.

“You’re late.” Sanemi clicked his tongue in irritation, yet pulled the covers back for his futon— which had been set on wooden slats, to keep him as comfortable as humanly possible.

He had initially wanted to refuse the luxury, since his men slept on much thinner futons placed on the ground, but had to rethink his decision ever since the arrangement with (Y/n) had been made.

Gingerly, the young woman tied the flaps of the tent together, even going for double knots— as if that would keep them from being discovered.

When she was done closing the sizeable tent up, she then turned to face her lover— licking her suddenly dry lips when she saw his bare chest on full display for her. In turn, Sanemi patted the empty space beside him— beckoning her to join him in his bed.

And she didn’t even hesitate, at all. She slipped her tunic off, folding it neatly and setting it on a nearby chair. It was then followed by her pants and underwear— also folded and set aside neatly. Then came her chest bindings.

Sanemi watched her with apt focus; his gaze getting hotter and hotter with every inch of skin she bared to him. And, beneath the blanket, he felt himself get hard.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long, as (Y/n) climbed in beside him after turning the lamp off— assuming her usual position, as he spooned her; wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back flush against his scarred chest.

There was nothing but silence between them at that point, save for their soft breaths filling the tent. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, and it wasn’t the most innocent of silences, either— especially as Sanemi began pressing kisses against the back of (Y/n)’s head, allowing himself to dip his head low so he could pepper kisses along her right shoulder and up the side of her neck.

All the while, his right hand drifted down to her hip; massaging her flesh tenderly, as he pressed his warm erection against her ass. “You smell so tempting. Did you take another bath?”

(Y/n) could only nod, since a breathless gasp had escaped her lips before she could speak— all because her lover had snaked his fingers down to her pussy, running his index finger up her slit and collecting her wetness at the pad of it, before circling her clit with it.

“Next time, we should take one together.”

She opened her mouth to answer, only to be cut off once more when Sanemi pinched her clit between his thumb and index finger— making her hips jerk involuntarily against him.

With that, the Captain dragged his fingers down to her entrance— rubbing the sopping hole with the pad of his middle finger— before slipping it inside to the first knuckle. “Tonight, I’m going to slip my cock inside this tight pussy of yours, and I’m going to fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

Instead of alarming (Y/n), however, Sanemi’s words only made her walls clench down on his finger— or what little there was of it inside her— as she got even wetter than before.

“Do you want that?”

She surprised even herself with how sure and needy she sounded, “Yes. Please, Sanemi.”

It took everything in the young man to not grab his dick and slip it inside her at that moment— as it twitched where it was pressed flush between her ass cheeks. Still, no matter how much he deemed her mentally ready, she still wasn’t wet enough to receive him.

So, with a renewed sense of vigor, the Captain his middle finger deeper inside her— hissing at how tight her walls clenched around the single digit. Slowly, he thrusted his finger inside her— being gentle enough with her, as he knew that it was her first time.

For the most part, (Y/n) was quiet save for her soft sighs and mewls, especially when Sanemi curled his finger up against a spot inside her that had her legs quivering in pleasure.

She thought that that feeling was already heavenly enough, but when her lover’s other hand joined in the foray— toying with her clit so expertly— she was reduced to nothing more than a breathless and quivering mass against him; not even trying to fight back the orgasm that she knew would hit at any given moment.

It wasn’t until Sanemi added another finger and began flicking her clit at a rapid pace that she finally succumbed to her own pleasure— biting down hard on her bottom lip to keep herself as quiet as she could.

Her chest was heaving as she came down from her high, absolute putty in his hands as he pulled his finger out from her cunt and put it up to his mouth— sucking the digit clean before pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot behind her ear. “Delicious.”

It was such a tender gesture that it threw (Y/n) for a loop, confusing her enough to lose momentary focus of her surroundings; and the next thing she knew, Sanemi was already hovering above her— caging her in between his arms, with his hips cradled between her thighs.

“Hold on tight, princess, and don’t make a sound— unless you want the whole camp to know who’s fucking you,” He whispered against her lips, dropping a languid peck against it, before reaching a hand down to grip his cock— all so he could align the tip to her entrance, collecting her wetness on his cockhead and teasingly dipping it inside.

(Y/n) nodded her assent, even wrapping her arms around her lover’s neck and digging her fingers into the taut muscles on his back. Then slowly, Sanemi pushed himself inside her— his attention solely on her, as he didn’t want to hurt her.

At the first sign that she didn’t want to do it, he was going to back off and settle for a blowjob— even though the more that he pushed inside, the more euphoric he felt as her walls clamped down around him.

If (Y/n) were to be honest, she would say that she was nervous as hell; not because she wasn’t sure if Sanemi was just going to ram his cock inside her, but because of all the stories that she’d heard about how painful it was. But, as she laid there, with her arms around him, all she felt was a sting— at most. It wasn’t a splitting pain like everyone had said it would be.

She wasn’t in agony, but it was a little uncomfortable.

And by the time that Sanemi was fully sheathed inside her, she felt so full that even the slightest movement had her mewling in a mix of discomfort and pleasure. Then slowly, the Captain pulled his cock out of her— only to slide it back in, in the same gentle manner as before.

It went on like that for a few minutes, with Sanemi letting (Y/n) get used to the new sensations, until she leaned up slightly and whispered into his ear, “I need more, Sanemi. Please fuck me.”

Sanemi didn’t need to be told twice after that, as he slowly picked up the pace— relishing in the feel of his lover’s cunt practically pulling him back inside with how tight and wet she was.

The arm that was holding him up was starting to shake with the weight he put on it, yet he paid it no mind as he reached down and began toying with (Y/n)’s clit once more; trying to bring her to orgasm, as he knew that he was close to cumming— what with how long he had anticipated the moment he could finally fuck her.

It was shameful to not have even lasted his usual twenty minutes before cumming, but Sanemi really couldn’t help the pleasurable feeling that consumed him from the inside— starting at the bottom of his spine and gradually getting hotter and tighter. His balls, all heavy with his cum, kept slapping against her ass— adding to the sounds of their heavy breathing as well as (Y/n)’s soft gasps that filled the tent.

“I… I’m cumming, Sanemi,” The princess whispered, screwing her eyes shut and digging her nails into her lover’s back— raking them down the closer she got to the precipice of her own orgasm.

Her legs began to quiver once more, yet Sanemi was relentless with his thrusts. He didn’t let her have some reprieve, between angling his hips to hit a certain spot inside her that had her cursing under her breath everytime, to continuously playing with her clit— it was a sensory overload for (Y/n).

A highly pleasurable one that had her almost screaming and waking the entire camp, had Sanemi not slammed his lips against her at the last second; effectively shutting her up as he snaked his tongue into her mouth.

He felt her walls clamp down around him then, as if her pussy was trying to milk his cock for all it was worth. It didn’t help that the sensation of her nails digging into his back added to his pleasure; so, with one last thrust, he buried himself in her to the hilt— painting her walls with his warm and thick cum.

Both of them stayed like that for a few heartbeats, just languidly exchanging kisses as both of them climbed down from their highs— still closely entwined, with Sanemi’s cock nestled inside (Y/n)’s tight cunt.

“I want you again,” The captain whispered— a little winded from what they’d done a few minutes before, but still needy to feel more.

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yuusa · 4 years

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𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐨𝐝 𝟏𝟎

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐𝟎𝟕𝟏

𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲

𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝟏𝟎:

Your eyes slowly fluttered open as you adjusted to your surroundings. Your heart leaped out of your chest in panic as you quickly felt around for your journal, luckily it had been placed right by your side and you breathed a sigh of relief. You had been sleeping on a futon in a traditional home, you certainly didn’t remember anything after the race. You clutched onto your head to see a bandage wrapped around it and your knees have also been taken care of. You thought you didn’t sustain any head injuries though, perhaps you just overlooked it when you tripped.

The sliding door opened to reveal Akito and a maid behind him, she was holding a clean batch of clothes and avoiding eye contact with you. Akito came by your side and brushed away some of the strands of hair from your face. He was wearing a much plainer set of clothes, but it was still the same theme, all black.

“Are you feeling alright? You fainted earlier.” He asked, caressing your hair slowly as you looked up at him.

“O-Oh, yes. I’m feeling much better, thank you.” You noticed the lack of windows within this room, it was odd interior design.

“Sorry that you had to stay here, we didn’t know where you lived so the best thing to do was take you to my house. We called in your absence for you at school, it’s already noon.”

You have been sleeping for that long?

“A-Ah, sorry. I think I overstayed my welcome then, I’m sorry for troubling you Akito-san.” As you were going to slip out of the futon, he stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind you being here.” He smiled at you.

“O-Oh. . . Thank you, Akito-san. . . B-But you really didn’t have to take care of me. I-is there anything I can do for you?” You asked.

There seemed to be a hidden glint in his eyes as his smile grew, “yeah, let’s go on a date.”

A date?!

Your cheeks burst into a bright shade as you turned away from him, feeling the heat rush towards your face. He was really blunt, it was a bit embarrassing. Unknown to you, "she” was staring at the way your (e/c) eyes flickered across the room when you were shy. Akito was noting every single one of your movements until you nodded in response to his request.

“That’s good, I brought a pair of clothes for you to wear. You can keep them after the date.” He stood up and slid the door closed, “I’ll be waiting for you outside when you finish.”

You turned to the maid who was tasked with changing you as she guided your movements. You wondered if Akito came from a wealthy family, you should ask him for his last name when the date is over.

“Look Haa-san! Chocolates from me!” Shigure held up a blue polka dot bag, filled with the chocolates Tohru bought.

Hatori’s hands were tucked in his pockets, but he still slammed the door shut in front of his face. Shigure cried comedic tears at his rejection but slid the door open slightly, “I’m sorry, they’re from Tohru-kun.”

“Idiot.”

Shigure invited himself into Hatori’s office and sat down on one of the empty chairs near him. His place was a bit messy, with books scattered across the desk with various stacks of paper surrounding him.

“She’s a conscientious girl.”

“That’s an understatement. There’s more for Momicchi and Haa-kun too.” Shigure replied, referring to the bag of chocolates.

“She evidently planned on bringing them here yourself, but I offered to do it! Because guess what? She, Yuki-kun, Kyo-kun, and Kagura are all on a double date today!"

Shigure wrapped his arms around his chest, “I thought Yuki-kun would bring over (Y/n)-kun, but he said she was absent today at school.”

“Shigure.” Hatori pressed his lips together before he spun in his chair to face Shigure, his eyes becoming deathly serious at the mention of your name. “I have some news for you, regarding that girl, (L/n).”

“What is it Haa-san?”

“Akito called me over today to treat her at the Sohma Estate, they are going on a date today.” Shigure’s eyes widened in shock, the tension in the air growing as he stared at him speechless.

You and Akito? Together? Did she call in Hatori to take care of you?

“You can’t be serious, she’s with Akito right now?!”

“When it comes to Akito, I am afraid it’s true.”

Hatori turned to the side, trying to make the news not as heavy to Shigure, “Akito has taken in interest in her.”

Crap, Shigure thought. He gripped onto his hair as he looked down at the floor. This was an unexpected part of Akito. Not once has she taken an interest in anyone outside of the Sohma family, aside from Tohru where the bet has been set in place. When exactly did you two meet? What happened? Did Akito call in sick for you?

What was she planning?

“I. . . Yuki-kun is going to be devastated,” Shigure mumbled, unable to form any other words to convey his shock.

“I’m sorry. . . Akito wants to keep this a secret though.”

“Let’s watch this movie.” Akito pointed at the Mogeta advertisement.

You sweatdropped at the sight of the poster. You never really watched television or any sort of movie as a kid, so you didn’t really know what exactly you were looking at. But based on how Akito’s eyes seemed to sparkle at the sight of the movie being shown, you didn’t really have many options to choose from to make him happy.

“Do you like the main character, Akito-san?” You asked.

“I do, I was going to buy one of the stuffed animals during their first showing, but I had gotten sick that day.” He responded before grasping onto your hand, “let’s go, we might lose each other in this crowd.”

He guided you towards the inside of the theatre, the darkness swallowing you both up as he chose the seats for you.

From the outside, Yuki and the others were standing, watching Kagura interact with Kyo on their “double date”. He brushed part of his hair back, his mind still concerned about your well being.

Tohru told him that you went home early by yourself, but last time he checked they were at the other side of town, there would be no way you had gotten home so quickly with your knee. It was made even worse when you hadn’t arrived to school the next day, when he asked the teacher about it, she said your mother called in sick for you.

That’s odd.

He knew you lived alone.

None of this was adding up. He was going to try to visit your house tomorrow to see if you would be home. From the corner of his eye, he could see your figure in a black sweater and pants, your hand intertwined with someone else he found to be very familiar. His eyes widened at the sight of the short-haired friend of your’s and he immediately began running past Kyo and Kagura to the theater, but the time he got there it was already too dark for him to see you. Tohru ran by his side, concern washed over her face.

“Sohma-kun, is something wrong?” She asked.

He pulled on part of his hair as he looked down, feeling disappointed and utterly lost. “No. I’m fine.” He sighed before making his way inside to find their seats. Tohru frowned in response but chose not to speak about it.

You would have never thought that Yuki would be sitting only a few seats ahead of you. You were in the far back of the theater where you had an overhead view of the crowd. As you were going to comment about your seating arrangement, Akito had already turned to you.

“Is something wrong?” He asked.

You shook your head, “n-no, I just thought I saw a friend here.”

“Oh? I see.” He bluntly replied, sounding a bit uninterested in your friends.

You pressed your lips together in a straight line as you stared down at the grey hair in the theater. What was he doing here? You never really took Yuki as someone who would watch a movie like Mogeta but considering the fact that you were here watching it as well meant that perhaps there was more to it. On closer inspection, he was sitting next to Tohru with Kyo and another girl.

Were they on a double date?

You wondered if he and Tohru were really that close.

But. . . It seems as if he is having a nice time opening up to others because of Tohru now. It was a bit obvious the sudden change in the aura when the first time you saw him in middle school and now. It must be nice to feel less lonely. Your eyes narrowed in disappointment and sadness, your stomach-churning at your own thoughts.

You felt a bit jealous.

Jealous that he was able to open up so easily because he has people like Tohru in his life.

You said that maybe the eagle could save the rat from his burdens, but perhaps you were proven wrong. Perhaps he never needed the eagle. Maybe the eagle was a scapegoat to his own duties of being by God’s side.

You couldn’t tell if this was your doubt speaking for you, but no matter what happens between you and Yuki, there would always be a drift between the two of you. It was one that was being pulled together and ripped apart constantly.

Did you really belong in his life? You chewed on the bottom of your lip as you felt your eyes tear up. Was the friendship you had simply your imagination?

He had a lot of people who could give him the same sense of comfort that you tried to give. He could easily replace you with anyone else in his life, he only needed Tohru to make him happy.

Akito reached out to your cheek, bringing it closer to him as you stared into his eyes in the darkened room, only illuminated by the movie playing in the back. Your mind paused as you melted in his touch, the feeling of fuzziness coming back to you.

“You’re crying.” You pulled yourself away from him in shock, trying to cover your eyes.

“I-I’m sorry.” You apologized, sniffling underneath your hand as you turned away from him.

“Don’t apologize, what’s wrong?”

“I. . .” You choked on a sob, trying to keep quiet in the theater while the movie drowned out the noises of your tears. You didn’t know if you could trust Akito fully, but there was something about the look he gave you which made you feel wanted.

“I don’t belong here.” You muttered.

“I don’t feel like I belong with the people I call friends.” You bit the bottom of your lip, feeling your body tremble as you continued to cry next to Akito. “. . . It’s hard when all of them look so happy without me.”

Akito’s slender fingers reached out to pull your hands away from your face, exposing your teary eyes which gave him shivers down his spine. He caressed your cheek softly, giving you a look of empathy and understanding.

Such beautiful eyes.

“It’s okay. You’re worth a lot to me (L/n)-san, I can be your friend.”

Your eyes widened at his proposal, your heart feeling as if it had been touched by him. He brought you closer to a tight hug, the armrest between the two of you being pushed back as he toyed with your strands of hair. You inhaled the soft scent of his clean clothes as you gripped onto his shirt, your tears slipping down your cheeks and soaking his collarbone.

I could be your only one, Akito thought.

After all. You were a Messenger of God.

You were meant to be by God’s side.

VOLUME ONE COMPLETED.

#fruits basket #fruits basket x reader #x reader #yuki sohma #yuki sohma x reader #yuki soma #yuki soma x reader

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genesisrose74 · 4 years

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A/n: Good evening do y’all want some Bokuto? Have some Bokuto, he’s a very good owl boy 10/10 would give him all my love and affection - anyways this is just a cute little thing I did where you show up to a Fukurodani game wearing Bokuto’s alternate jersey and fluffiness ensues. I hope you enjoy!

Side Note! If any of y’all are caught up with the manga right now PLEASE MESSAGE ME AND TELL ME YOUR REACTION BECAUSE ASHDGKFDS I AM GOING TO HOLE MYSELF UP IN MY ROOM AND JUST CRY MY SOUL OUT WHEN IT ENDS NEXT WEEK HBU-

The cheers from your fellow Fukurodani classmates were nearly deafening, even before your school’s team was on the court, and the nerves jumping around in your stomach seemed to only increase with the excitement in the air.

“Are you sure this was a good idea?” you hesitantly ask your close friend and the co-manager of the volleyball team, Kaori Suzumeda. The brunette only grins back at you with a knowing smile on her face.

“Come on, you look absolutely adorable!” she gushes.

“I don’t know, maybe he won’t like it, or he’ll think it looks weird.”

Kaori raises an eyebrow at you. “Knowing Bokuto, I’m positive that he’s going to love it and then go kick some ass on the court for your honor.”

Your lips twitch upwards into a small smile imagining that scenario in your head.

“That would be entertaining,” you muse, and your fellow third year laughs at your change in mood.

“That’s the spirit!” she cheers. “Yukie texted me a few minutes ago saying the team was on their way in, so let’s be ready to greet them with energy!”

Glancing down at the outfit you chose for the match, you smooth out the shirt fabric’s nonexistent wrinkles. Bokuto’s alternative game jersey falls comfortably to your mid-thigh, and the spandex shorts you fished out of your drawers this morning fits you snugly. A yellow and black bow is tied neatly in your hair to top off the look. It’s definitely a bit more revealing - most notably of your legs - than you’d usually go for, but it wasn’t overly exposing of anything beyond your comfort level.

You watch in amusement as the brunette helps rile up the crowd of students behind you. Whenever Yukie was the one on the court for a game, leaving Kaori to watch from the stands, she made it her job to work with the Fukurodani spirit squad in hyping up her fellow peers. Needless to say, she was very good at doing so, and the sea of students was already bursting with excitement for the first volleyball game of the second term as she worked her magic.

The sound of a very recognizable voice brings your attention back to the court, and your smile widens substantially with the realization that it’s your larger-than-life boyfriend arriving through the gym’s double-doors.

“Hey, hey, hey!” he waves a hand out to the gathering of students in the stands, and he grins when he is met with an echo back of his introductory catchphrase. Beside him, Akaashi positions himself to catch the captain’s discarded team jacket. You make a mental note to thank the setter for keeping up with whatever personal belongings Bokuto tosses absentmindedly before his games.

Yukie takes notice of you in the front of the crowd and sends you an approving thumbs up for your outfit, mouthing the word ‘cute!’ before she turns her attention to the coach’s bench. You can’t help but giggle at her encouragement, feeling the nerves from earlier start to settle down.

Watching Bokuto warm up was a gift in and of itself. He was always so playful and positive with his teammates before a match started, and this time was no exception. Being the first game since the second term of school began, it was evident that the third year was itching to play an official match again.

You feel Kaori nudge your shoulder as you watch on with admiration for the Fukurodani team, and you tilt your head to the side to see her expectant expression.

“Well? Call out to him, dummy!” she urges. “Warm ups just ended, and I just know he’s been looking for you in this massive crowd.”

You roll your eyes at her as if to say ‘this feels like a corny romantic movie moment’, but you do as she says all the same.

“Bokuto!” you yell out over the gymnasium noise, and the boy surprisingly picks up your voice among the rest. When he turns to find you standing up front, proudly wearing his jersey and making a heart with your hands, he’s completely dumbfounded. When he finally comes to his senses, realizing that you’re wearing his jersey, Akaashi needs to physically hold him back by the shirt collar to prevent the elated third year from running to see you.

“Good luck, babe! Score a few points for me, would ya?” you cheer, giggling at how fired up the boy was.

“Anything for you, Y/n!” he shouts back, making a heart with his own hands in response to your gesture.

And boy, does Bokuto not disappoint. The crowd is alive with energy as Fukurodani manages to score one point after another, with their ace at the helm of their efficient progress. Each time the captain himself gets one, whether it be off a service ace or a killer straight shot, he turns to the student section with a confident smile and points directly at you. Even if he isn’t the one taking the point for the team, Bokuto is always there to applaud his teammates, and each member of Fukurodani is clearly influenced by his current enthusiasm in one way or another.

By the end of the game, you lose track of how many times Bokuto successfully lands his attacks, but you know for sure that he was the all time scorer on either side for the day.

The team walks over to thank the crowd, small smiles on each of their faces as they are congratulated on their well-deserved win. As students happily filter out of the stands, you follow besides Kaori as she leads you downstairs through a sea of people. She grabs the attention of the entire team when she walks through the doors leading to the court, and Bokuto is quick to toss his water bottle aside when he sees you next to the co-manager.

You approach him with an unwavering smile, and he happily jogs over to pick you up off the ground and into his arms.

You squeak in surprise as he spins you around on the sleek gym floors, your initial shock melting away into laughter when he hugs you tighter to his chest. He lifts your legs to fit securely around his waist, supporting you with his hands on the back of your thighs, and an involuntary blush rises to your cheeks when you realize he’s not putting you down anytime soon. The third year flashes you a million dollar smile. “Hello there, gorgeous.”

“Hey, Captain Koutarou,” you greet him back, and he is utterly astonished at how cute you are as you smile at him. “That was a pretty nice game you played there.”

“Wasn’t it?” he exclaims. “It must be because I had such an awesome cheerleader here for me today.”

“Hm, I wonder who that could be.”

He brushes your nose against his with a playful smirk. “Oh, I think you know.”

His gaze travels over your decided outfit for today’s match with great interest, eyes landing on the large number four displayed on the jersey. “You should really wear my stuff more often.”

“It’s super comfortable, so I might take you up on that,�� you happily agree.

“If you do,” Yukie chimes in, “Wear it during a game so Bokuto may never go into his emo mode again.”

You shake your head with a laugh, “Well that just ruins the surprise of it. Besides, Koutarou doesn’t need all that to be the number one ace.”

The player in question considers the idea for a moment. “You’re right, but it would be highly appreciated if you did it occasionally. ‘Cause you look super hot.”

“Bo!” you flush at his straightforwardness.

“What? It’s true!” he defends.

He tilts his head to kiss your forehead, and you catch him by surprise when you lift your face up to kiss him right on the mouth. He most definitely does not object, though, letting his tongue swipe over your bottom lip as your hand trails up to his hair.

He groans when the team calls him over for the post-game meeting, gently setting you down onto the gymnasium floor and giving you one more kiss before he turns to his teammates. “Guys, can’t you see I was in the middle of something?” he whines.

“You can make out on your own time, Bokuto,” Haruki retorts, and the team captain pouts.

“But I was doing that just now!”

For the rest of the day, Bokuto is beside you, proudly boasting his cute girlfriend to anyone and everyone he can. And don’t even think that the third year wants you to return that jersey any time soon; he thinks you look better than him in it.

#haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu!!#hq #bokuto x reader #bokuto imagines #bokuto koutarou #koutarou #fukurodani #bokuto koutarou fluff #bokuto fluff #hq fluff #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu anime #haikyuu manga #bokuto oneshot #bokuto fanfiction #haikyuu fluff

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adiabolikpastel · 3 years

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Title: Nineteen Nuptials

Rating: PG

Word Count: 1,630

ღ Written for Yuuki’s birthday. Marking three years in the Sakamaki's care. Worried about the future, Yuuki tries to cope with the fears inside. While Kanato is never the most comforting, perhaps on this special night he can calm Yuuki's mind. ღ

Mun Yu: It may not be perfect, but I am so happy that I got this done in time! Please enjoy this turning point in the Kanuki ship!

☆+ ﾟ .+ .ﾟ.ﾟ｡ﾟ｡. +ﾟ｡ﾟ.ﾟ｡☆*｡｡ . ｡ o .｡ﾟ｡.o｡* ｡ .｡

The night was cool and crisp. Somewhat reminiscent of an evening in autumn, even though it was only June. School had been finished for some months now. With this past graduation, there was no one left attending school. Despite this, the Sakamaki manor was still rather quiet. Without school to occupy their time, everyone simply found something else to do.

Reiji had taken to spending time in the Demon Realm. He wanted to further his understanding of life there, planning to make the move one day. Leaving Rika (@silencieux-aube) to pursue her own career goals, though it was not as though they were always apart. Shu would join him on occasion. Surprisingly enough, once the two of them had finished school, they started to interact more. Though it was mostly still arguing, there seem to be this understanding of the future between the two - everyone else did not understand.

Ayato had all but moved out. Most of his time was spent out with Yuko (@pureblood-prey), though that was not surprising. The two of them had been together for a long time as well, and it was only natural for thing to continue to progress. After all, Yuko had long since graduated and was on her way to becoming a respectable Police Officer – despite her delinquent lover.

Laito had moved out the moment he graduated high school, and had been out of the house for about four months now. Yuki went along with him, to everyone’s surprise. They hadn’t really been back to see anyone, but perhaps that is because Laito wanted a clean break from the family. Every now and then he would reach out via text or upload a photo on social media.

Subaru was still around, he and Akumu made their day to day routines quite known. With it not being too long after graduation, Subaru was getting used to living his life for his own reasons. This was a rough topic for the youngest Sakamaki, but thankfully he had Akumu to help. Since Shu no longer needed him, Akumu was able to strictly focus on Subaru.

Which left Kanato and Yuuki, who were taking total advantage of Yuuki’s freedom from school. Unbothered by the ideas of the future, the two of them spent their days enjoying themselves. For the past four months they had done nothing truly productive. Kanato had even refused to go to any further schooling until Yuuki was finished with high school. Even now the talks of what to do next never really came up for the two of them. Though, inside, Yuuki was curious about their future.

What was it that Kanato wanted with her? Was there even a possibility for them to have a real future? As her birthday approached, Yuuki felt herself worrying more about her increasing age. While she would continue to grow, Kanato would stay young. What if she grows too old and he leaves her? Would there be a time when he would want to change her? Does that mean that they would be married? What does it really mean to be long term dating an immortal creature?

On the night of her Birthday, Yuuki stood in the drawing room, looking out at the setting sun. It had been now three years since she first came to live here. On instinct she began to reach up to her neck, searching to the choker from her mother, but stopped as she remembered it was long gone. How could she be so okay with all of this? After all, her mother died the day she was taken. Her birthday was nothing but the anniversary of it, and yet… she couldn’t truly bring herself to be sad.

Her mother had been such a kind woman. Always telling Yuuki to find the good in other people, no matter how awful their actions. Though through the years, it was hard to recall just what her mother’s voice sounded like. Even her initial anger towards her murder had started to fade, at least for that reason. Just what was it about these years that caused her to change so much? There was now this, disconnect from the world, which she couldn’t quite explain. Past or Future. It didn’t seem to matter if it wasn’t about –

“What are you doing?” Kanato’s voice stirred her from thought. His sleepy form stood in the door way, Teddy clenched in his arms, as he wipes the sleep form his eyes.

Yuuki looked at her keeper. This monster, whom had captivated her life – her being – for the past three years. Her every thought and dream, were about him. There wasn’t a moment that passed where a vision on him did not cross her mind. “You’re awake, Kanato-san.” She smiles, abandoning her spot by the window to move towards him.

“It’s too early… why would you be… oh…” Kanato stops as something seemed to click in his mind. “It’s tonight right… you are expected me to have something prepared?” He glares at the girl, the nerve of her, to think that he would waste time.

Yuuki shakes her head and simply walks over, moving to take one of Kanato’s hands, “Of course not, Kanato-san. My greatest gift is you after all, right?”

Kanato is visibly thrown off by her answer, a deep blush spreading on his face. “… Cheeky… I suppose I could be persuaded to do something special for you. Ah, but nothing stupid like you did before.”

Yuuki thinks for a moment, “… Kanato-san… do you think we could… just talk for a while?”

He looks down at his human, annoyed, “Again with these stupid request.” He takes his hand from her grasp and turns in a huff. “If that is all you truly require of me, I can spoil you a little.”

Yuuki smile and thanks Kanato. The two go back to their room, where Yuuki proceeds to talk with Kanato about her recent fears. Of him growing tired of her. Of age continuing to separate them. Her desire to be with him for eternity. Kanato mostly allowed for her to talk, having little to say in response. When it felt like she was done, he simply sat for a moment.

“Um… Kanato-san…? I… sorry if this all is catching you off guard I just… we’re finally at this point and I…” Yuuki hadn’t meant to get emotional, but she could feel tears start to sting her eyes. “I just… I don’t want to be without you and if… you ever got tired of me … or if I got too old - I…”

Kanato allowed Yuuki to cry for a while on her own. These were all things he had never thought about, yet here she was worrying over it. To a vampire, the idea of time is lost. Kanato has no sense of urgency, no need to worry about growing too old. So of course he would never trouble himself thinking of them in the case of his doll, whom he simply assumed would always stay the same. However, that wasn’t the case. From when she arrived till now, Yuuki had already changed, while he stayed the same.

Yuuki cried softly for a while, and the more she did, the worse she felt. Didn’t Kanato even care? Was he just waiting for her to stop? Why wasn’t he saying anything? The fear of his rejection was swelling inside, and Yuuki couldn’t bare it any longer. “Please say something Kanato-san! If you hate me so much then-“

Before she could finish her outburst, Yuuki felt herself moving against her will. The room shifted as she felt the soft plush of the bed against her back. Her eyes searched the room to see what happened, but ended looking upward. Kanato was looming over her, his head down, hiding his eyes from hers. She looked up at him, wondering if this was it. This was the moment he decided to be finished with her. Too needy. Too old. Accepting her fate, Yuuki simply musters a smile. She loved Kanato with all her being, if this was to be the end, at least it would be by his hands.

However, Kanato made no moves to harm her. In fact, Yuuki could feel soft trembles on against her shoulder where Kanato held her. Then, sudden drops of water fell into her face. “… You just decide that on your own?” His voice was tumbling, “All of these thoughts… why is it that I must think them!?”

Yuuki still could not see Kanato’s eyes, but she could tell that he was crying. Not like the usually does for attention. “Kanato-san-“

“You are my doll! I decided what becomes of you! Why do you worry about these things!? I have chosen you! Your life is not something you get to decided anymore!” Kanato finally lifts his head to look down at her eyes. His tone was stern but his expression was full of sadness. “You cannot think of leaving me! Not even think of me leaving you! You are my doll!” He yells.

Yuuki looks up at him. The millions of thoughts that once raced through her mind, now fell silent. With the biggest smile she nods happily, “You’re right! Kanato-san… I’m yours forever.” She laughs a little, still feeling like she could cry, but for a different reason.

The future may not be spelled out, but it didn’t need to be. Yuuki would be able to live her life, how ever Kanato saw fit her to. There was no need to worry about aging, schooling, or anything a normal human would. She belonged to a vampire. Her future was in his hands, there was no need to worry about where that might lead. For every path, led directly to Kanato.

#writing #kanuki #yuuki koishikawa #19th birthday

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politesper-moved · 4 years

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Bellow the cut is my really lengthy MLA formatted essay on Itsuki’s memory concerns. This was written for a class, so that’s why it’s written the way it is. I’m too lazy go go through and edit it much so you’re getting it in it’s raw glory:

The Haruhi Suzumiya franchise is full of many mysteries; as a series that only just a few months ago left a nine-year hiatus in which there was little to no content released that contributed to the greater story at hand, there are a lot of unanswered questions in the novels that we likely won’t be getting any answers to anytime soon. One of those being the character of Itsuki Koizumi. As of the date this essay has been written, Itsuki is the only main character in the novels that has not had an entire book dedicated to his character and struggles. Haruhi Suzumiya, the titular character, has The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya and The Sigh of Haruhi Suzumiya; Yuki Nagato has The Disappearance of Haruhi Suzumiya, Mikuru Asahina has The Intrigues of Haruhi Suzumiya, and Kyon is the main narrator of the entire series, which means every single novel has focused on him. However, out of the eleven books released thus far, Itsuki Koizumi has only been relevant as a means to give exposition to our main character or in side-stories that give us little insight into his real nature/character. However, there may be a reason as to why he is the most mysterious of the bunch, aside from that being his defining character trope when introduced. That reason has to do with his memory.

Throughout most novels, Itsuki has given us an excellent insight into his thought process. As a character whose primary purpose is to provide the audience with much-needed explanations for what’s going on, you would think that was all he is: a way to give information. However, Tanigawa is known for subverting tropes in his work, and Itsuki Koizumi is no exception. While Itsuki is brilliant, he makes one thing incredibly clear throughout his words: he is not sure if what he is saying is true. Every time he gives Kyon information, it is done in a way that is deemed theoretical. Itsuki is constantly speculating on what’s going on in the series, and we are led to believe that he is an unreliable narrator, much like Kyon himself. Itsuki refers to himself as a skeptic to the Agency’s theory that Haruhi is “God” and brings up plenty of counter-arguments to that theory. He says that he is in the minority of believing that, however, and thus bounces ideas off of Kyon to get a better understanding of what’s going on around him. This brings up our first issue with his character. As, in The Surprise of Haruhi Suzumiya, Kyouko Tachibana- who is a member of the organization that rivals the one Itsuki is from- says this: “...didn’t you know? Koizumi created the Agency from the ground up. He’s been the leader from the very beginning” (Tanigawa 2011).

If this fact is true, why would Itsuki be at odds with the Agency’s views of Haruhi? A lot of information that Itsuki gives Kyon about the Agency is contradictory. While one can infer that he’s just been lying this entire time, we also know that Itsuki is too smart to have holes in his story like that. Not only has he been proven to be a great improviser, but a convincing one. This can be showcased any time that Haruhi has a run-in with a supernatural force. To keep her from finding out that such things exist in the world, he has come up with explanations on the spot for unnatural happenings. While to Kyon and us the audience, they seem ridiculous, that’s also because we know what’s going on. To Haruhi herself, a character who has been proven to be incredibly perceptive, they are convincing. To think that Itsuki would be contradictory in his statements about the Agency, which even has Kyon put suspicions on him, is something I find suspicious in a different way.

In The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya, Itsuki introduces himself as a subordinate of the Agency. And, up until The Surprise of Haruhi Suzumiya, that statement seems to check out. While we always get the feeling that Itsuki knows more than he lets on, his rank in the Agency is never in question until the second to last novel (as of writing this). At the end of the Surprise novel, Kyon decides to question Itsuki about his place in the Agency. He says that he assumed Mori, another member of the Agency, was his boss. He explains to Itsuki that Mori refers to him very casually, but he wonders what she refers to him as when not around. In the English translation of the novel, some of the nuisances are left out. Kyon refers to honorifics here, suffixes added to the end of names that help signify a relationship between you and the person you’re talking to. Mori refers to Itsuki by his last name, without any honorific, when Kyon is around; that signifies that she is either above him or on equal footing with him. Kyon is wondering if Mori refers to Itsuki more formally in a closed setting, trying to tip-off to Itsuki that he has suspicions that he may have been lying to him about being a subordinate in the Agency. Then, Itsuki says something that completely disregards everything he has explained about his position in the past: “...we don’t have the kind of hierarchy that exists in a corporation. There are no superiors- everyone is the same. There’s no hierarchy among comrades” (Tanigawa 2011).

Another interesting thing to note here is that this is the same book that Itsuki says he will have to rethink his past theories and finally proclaims that he himself believes Haruhi is a God. While it’s subtle, this is undoubtedly a large shift in his character, and one might assume that Itsuki changing up his story so late in the game would be out of character for him- they would be right. However, it is not without proper build-up. In fact, throughout many novels before this, Itsuki hinted that his memories are in danger.

Itsuki’s character revolves around mystery, so you have to look at everything he says with a critical lens, especially if it seems out of place in a conversation. All of this memory-related paranoia from him started after The Rampage of Haruhi Suzumiya, specifically the story Snowy Mountain Syndrome. Yuki Nagato falls ill while they’re trapped inside a time-warping mansion in the middle of a blizzard. Under these circumstances, Itsuki makes a fundamental promise to Kyon: “If a situation should ever arise where Nagato is in a great deal of trouble [...] I will betray the ‘Agency’ one time and ally myself with you” (Tanigawa 2004). Not too much later in that scene, Itsuki ensures Kyon that he is still loyal to the Agency; however, the Brigade is starting to become more of a priority. A few books later, in The Intrigues of Haruhi Suzumiya, he makes his stance more clear “If asked which side I belong to, the SOS Brigade comes to mind, first and foremost. My feelings tend toward it, rather than the Agency [...] If the Agency gave me an order that ran counter to the interests of the SOS Brigade, I might find myself upon the horns of a dilemma” (Tanigawa 2005). These are not statements that make sense under the idea that Itsuki created the Agency, but Kyouko also has no reason to lie at that moment. Not to mention, Itsuki’s behavior after making these statements runs counter to the idea that he is lying about his loyalties to gain Kyon’s trust. I will get into that soon. Something to consider here is the idea that Itsuki himself is unaware that he is the Agency’s creator. While that sounds convoluted, it begins to make more sense as you consider Itsuki’s behavior in the books following The Rampage of Haruhi Suzumiya.

One thing to remember about Itsuki is that he is smart. While he claims himself not to be a genius, in The Surprise of Haruhi Suzumiya, it is confirmed that even people from the future consider him a dangerous individual because of his above-average ability to infer things. The Mikuru Asahina from the future even states that “A single careless word from me could become ten words’ worth of information for you” (Tanigawa 2011). Needless to say, he’s very perceptive. So, when Itsuki begins making claims that are alluding to the fact that his memories may be tampered with in the future, it isn’t something that we should brush off as the readers.

The book that features his worries quite prominently is the first big story after Snowy Mountain Syndrome: The Intrigues of Haruhi Suzumiya. I’ll be going through the two most essential hints Itsuki gives us towards the idea his memory may be getting tampered with, starting with Itsuki’s indications that there are other kinds of espers.

Up until this point of the series, we assume for the most part that all espers are like Itsuki, as in, their powers are limited. Itsuki is only able to use his powers under specific conditions. Said conditions begin when he enters the closed spaces made by Haruhi to fight off Celestials, a subconscious representation of her negative emotions and desire to recreate the world. Itsuki has claimed in the past that the Agency must destroy the Celestials and stop Haruhi from subconsciously destroying the world with her powers and that it is their purpose for existing. And then, Itsuki drops this: “I am an esper- though my abilities and range are a bit limited. But can you be sure that I am the only one? I don’t mean anti-Celestials like me. How can we say for certain there aren’t more straightforward superhumans with, for example, the power to see the future, perhaps even attached to the Agency” (Tanigawa 2005). When Kyon asks whether or not people like that exist, Itsuki claims that he’s unsure since he is “an underling” and is kept in the dark about these things. However, Itsuki never brings up a theory of his when he doesn’t have reason to believe it. While usually, Itsuki backs up his points, here he refrains from giving too much information. It’s not out of character for him to do something like this, though. It’s often that Itsuki only gives Kyon enough information to come to conclusions independently, rather than try to force his own opinions and beliefs on the main character. The idea that there are espers with capabilities we are unaware of is something to keep in mind when considering the biggest hint that Itsuki gives us: his blatant paranoia about his memories being erased.

Later on, in The Intrigues of Haruhi Suzumiya, Itsuki reminds Kyon that he has become incredibly grateful towards the Brigade and the opportunities it has allowed him to have. In addition to that, he asks Kyon if he remembers what he said to him during the incident they had on that snowy mountain. Of course, Kyon states that he remembers- claiming that if Itsuki ever went back on that promise, he would join forces with Haruhi and “come up with a punishment the likes of which he’d never seen” (Tanigawa 2005). Then, Itsuki states something peculiar: “That’s a relief. If I ever suffer from amnesia, things will be alright- you’ll remember for me” (Tanigawa 2005). In the book right after this one, The Indignation of Haruhi Suzumiya, Itsuki makes a similar comment on the topic of remembering his promise about protecting Nagato: “‘I remember it, of course. And even if I did forget, I’m quite certain that you’d remind me. Wouldn’t you?’ He smiled pleasantly and gestured. ‘When the time comes’” (Tanigawa 2006). His concern regarding memories starts extending to Kyon in the next book, The Dissociation of Haruhi Suzumiya, in which Itsuki’s mental/emotional state seems to be taking a turn for the worse. Kyon comments on how any normal person would be fatigued dealing with Haruhi on a daily basis, and Itsuki responds with the following- I will quote the passage in its entirety, as it’s something that isn’t easily paraphrased:

“I am not speaking in conventional terms. You do remember my true nature and responsibility, don’t you? The real reason why I am here?”

At first it was to observe Haruhi, and then it became being her flunky, I said.

“Excuse me, but surely you haven’t forgotten that I am an esper, nor have you forgotten when, where, how, and with whom my powers are utilized.”

I remembered all right, having gotten enough of an earful about it. His confession had come after Nagato’s and Asahina’s- in other words, it was the most recent information about a brigade member to come to light.

“That’s good. That will make this easier to explain.” Koizumi gave an affectedly relieved sigh, then lowered his voice. “To be honest, I haven’t been sleeping well recently. I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night or early morning, day after day, and not because I want to. It’s taken quite a toll on my health.”

Throughout the rest of their conversation at the beginning of this book, Itsuki is constantly asking Kyon if his memory is faulty or if he had somehow forgotten recent events that lead up to their current situation. At the end of that lengthy conversation, we get another critical exchange that would be more beneficial not to paraphrase as well:

“So, you’ve finally managed to arrive at that point. I was starting to wonder if it had been erased from your memory.”

What good would it do anyone if I’d lost that memory? I asked.

“I can’t guess at the possible profit or loss, but if I could erase it, I would very much like to.”

That didn’t make any sense. I’d never heard anything about Koizumi being able to control memories, and anyway, if he could, then he ought to be doing something about Haruhi’s head.

“You are quite right.”

He didn’t have to sound so wistful about it, I said.

One thing that both of these exchanges make clear is that memory, and memory loss by extension is something significant to Itsuki. And throughout the series, he has become more and more adamant about making Kyon aware of that fact. What can be gathered from the information he is feeding us that there is someone, somewhere- most likely allied with the Agency- who has the power to alter people’s memories. Itsuki seems to be aware of said individuals and appears to fear the idea of having his memories altered by them. The fact that he is also asking Kyon if his memories are still intact is likely because Kyon seems to be the only person that Itsuki has mentioned his promise and loyalties to. If his memories are altered, it likely means they’re coming for Itsuki next. If Itsuki’s memories are altered, he seems to be hoping that Kyon will remind him of his true feelings and goals.

As of right now, we have no idea who this individual is or if they even exist, but we can infer without a doubt that there is something going on involving Itsuki, his loyalties to the Agency, and his memories. The fact that his statements on the Agency contradict himself, the way he drops hints that go from subtle to incredibly obvious, the way his attitude subtly changes from being overly polite and accommodating to becoming more serious and practically demanding Kyon confirm that his memories of Itsuki are still intact for several books. Tanigawa is not an author who gives the readers things at face value. A genre that repeatedly appears in the Haruhi Suzumiya light novels is mystery. In the newest release at this date, The Intuition of Haruhi Suzumiya, the characters read through a set of stories sent to them by their friend Tsuruya. Their goal is to figure out the secrets in hiding meanings behind them by reading deeply into the text, phrasing of words, and placement of dialogue. As the series is writing from a first-person perspective, it’s only natural to infer this as a hint to the readers to read deeper into the texts presented to them. And, the more you look, the more you can find. Regardless of whether or not this new book is meant to be a hint to prepare us for future novels or not, one thing is sure: something big is going to happen involving Itsuki Koizumi at some point in the series. With all this build-up and foreshadowing, it is almost guaranteed that something will happen or has happened to change his memories about his promise and/or his loyalties. We’ll just have to wait until the next installment to see.

#when i say haruhi is perceptive im referring to her mystery solving abilities NOT her ability to detect the supernatural #that is nonexistent #≪ 🎭 ⇒ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀʟ : study ⇢ a hint of truth. ≫

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