#not enough build up to the tracks idk man

[fookinfandoms]

all in a days work

pairing: tangerine x female spy! reader

plot: The twins have been hired for a high risk job, unbeknownst to them that they weren’t the only ones. You just happened to be first.

authors note: i’m really writing something for a mf named TANGERINE. but I loved the movie and I loved his character. Mwah. Let me know if this is too ooc! I love feedback!

Not edited.

3.2k words

PART TWO HERE

warnings: no smut in this one, potentially part two. language, mentions of blood, violence, they’re assassins idk what you expect tbh, you both fight each other :)

 “Did you seriously knock my brother out with a fryin’ pan?” Tangerine yells out, stopping you in your tracks. The lights of the kitchen flickered on and off, loud music bouncing off the walls from the club outside. 

Lemon lay unconscious behind a counter, his head now sporting a rather nasty mark. Tangerine stood near the exit, one hand on his gun and the other holding a hard drive. His eyebrows were furrowed as glanced between you and his brother. 

Your head tilts to the side as you shrug. “He had a gun and I didn’t, I think he got off easy.” 

The gears turn in his head, wondering whether or not you were worth the effort. He waves his gun in your direction. “What’s this then?”

“Just another obstacle in the way,” You haven’t moved an inch, taking the time to plan your next move. You haven’t fought the twins before, but they were famous in the industry. Messy, yes, but they got shit done. “I’m going to need that hard drive however, and it would be a shame to put a mark on such a pretty face.” 

“Aw, you think I’m pretty?” He retorts, shoving the small device into his coat pocket. “Feelings mutual, but I’ve got the gun darling, and it seems like you’re all out of frying pans.”

Frustration crawls over your skin, and he smirks, believing he had you cornered. Tangerine can see your eyes glancing between him and the door behind him, and he almost considered letting you leave, albeit empty handed, until he remembered his brother on the floor. 

“You know,” He really thought thought he had the upper hand on you. “I’ve heard of you two before, the fruity twins and I-“

“Fruity twins? Are you having a laugh?” He interrupts, and it was your turn to smirk as he glares. “Fuckin' fruity twins?” “I mean, you are Tangerine and Lemon right?” You retort, pointing at his brother. “I’ve heard a lot about you two, Bolivia yeah? Hard stuff that, left quite a name for yourselves. Fruity names however, but names nonetheless.”

“You think you’re funny don’t you?” He hisses, his finger itching to pull the trigger a little more than before. “Who even are you?”

One more minute.

The muscle in his jaw ticks as you shrug again. “I think I’m pretty funny, I mean… I did just take down a fully grown man with a skillet, that’s a story for the grandkids don’t you think?”

“That didn’t answer my question, who are you and why do you want this?” He pats his coat pocket, a reminder he and his brother had gotten to the intel before you. 

“Angel,” You told him truthfully, watching as his eyebrow raises at the admission. “And I was hired, just like you.”

“Fitting name,” What a cruel punishment the universe has bestowed upon you. A gorgeous man with an accent flirting like it was his second language - with a gun aimed at between your eyes. “How much?”

You swallow and look around him quickly. “One million.”

“Christ, one million? We were offered half of that! Who fuckin’ hired you and off-“ Tangerine wasn’t able to finish his sentence as a loud bang swallowed you both. Dust and small pieces of the ceiling fell around, filling the air as multiple little bombs went off in unison through the building. 

There was the back up plan. They weren’t big enough to kill anyone, rather stun. A last resort in case you had been caught up.

Tangerine drops his gun as he covers his head in an attempt to hide from the debris, and you quickly take the time to kick the piece of metal away from him as your other leg rises and knees him in the side. He grunts, and as your leg raises for another kick, Tangerine pounces forward, grabbing your waist roughly and uses his weight to push you into a counter behind. 

You head is knocked back at the impact, and before the man in front of you can move you’re already throwing your elbow at his cheek. He curses, baring his teeth like a wild animal as he blocks another hit thrown his way. Pushing yourself off the cool metal, he holds his hands up in defence, shaking his head as you await his next move. 

“I really don’t want to do this.” He grunts out, his hair sticking in all directions. 

“So you could shoot me but a fist fight is off the table?” You push away the stray hair that had fallen out of its up-do, a laugh leaving your lips. “How noble.”

“I’m giving you an opportunity to leave here with your life,” He steps to the side with a smile, the exit behind him looking better than ever. “I have what I need, don’t need to add to the body count.”

Tangerine again pats at his coat pocket, but his smile slowly disappears as he feels nothing. His hand slides in, and he immediately begins patting at all possible pockets on his person. “What the fuck.”

“This?” You hold up the hard drive, wiggling it around before sliding it into the safety of your bra. “You’re not that bright are you?”

He sighs before turning his gaze to the roof, shaking his head with a string of curses. “Something tells me you like the idea of being thrown around love,” Tangerine slides off his coat and throws the material to the ground, rolling up his sleeves as you grin. “A little too much.”

You jerk your chin at him with a chuckle. “I do love a good tussle.”

Tangerine pounces and you’re already sliding out of the way, grabbing at a loose wine glass and throwing it at his head. The glass shatters and a grunt escapes him as the shards dance around him, but he doesn’t have time to register as you’re swinging your knee into his stomach again - the same spot as before. His muscles tense at the pain in his body, and he throws a punch, getting you in the collarbone. You stumble back at the force, but another grin grows realising he wasn’t holding back.

He raises his arm to swing again, but using the counter as leverage, you lean backwards, letting your legs wrap around his upper half and twisting - sending the larger man to the ground. He slides beside his brother as you catch yourself, kneeling beside him. His eyes widen at the sudden action, and you’re already raising your fist when he moves his head, dodging the blow. 

Your fist hits Lemon, and you release a little gasp at the mistake. He doesn’t budge however, still knocked out by the frying pan from before. Tangerine uses his long leg to kick you away from him, rolling onto his belly as he notices his gun hiding under a grill. He reaches for it, but you’re quicker than him - throwing yet another glass his way as his covers his head. 

“Stop throwing fuckin’ glasses!” He shouts, dodging another. 

“I have a whole set here,” You reply, reaching for the fine dining ware, as he uses his sleeve to push the shattered pieces from his skin. “Stop reaching for your gun!”

Tangerine swears again, slowly getting up off the ground. His shirt was rather torn up from your assault, but your dress wasn’t looking any better. Had the two of you not been currently trying to kill each other, the man might’ve offered to take you home. “Just give me the damn USB, we’re the ones who actually worked for it.”

You laugh at him, your red lips curling in a snarl. “Only because I cleared the office for you, don’t you think the place was rather empty all things considered?”

Lemon was actually the one who noticed the place had a lack of security, but the two didn’t want to push their luck. The intel was easy to grab, who would complain?

You nodded at him, watching the realisation hit him. “Yeah, dumbass - I did that. You didn’t check the closet did you? Whole bunch of dead guys, thanks to me.”

He scoffs, propping his hands onto his hips. “Bullshit, why didn’t you just grab the shit and go then?”

“I was busy setting up my backup plan, I didn’t know the job was handed off to others.” You raised your hands in frustration. It wasn’t uncommon for gigs to be palmed off to others, but that was usually involving a human target, not intel. 

“Yeah well, seems we both got fucked love,” He says, wincing at the pain in his side. “You’ve got a mean kick to you, you know that?”

“No one usually lives long enough to say anything.” A long silence ensues and you eye the man in front of you wearily, praying to whoever that his brother doesn’t wake up anytime soon. He gestures to your chest, your eyebrow raised at the action.

“One more chance, just hand it over and you can leave.”

You shake your head. “No can do.”

Just like before, he launches. His movements were well calculated, you’ll give him that - but your smaller size compared to his larger one was a good advantage. The two of you fought for a little longer, both refusing to back down. He got in a few good hits, but you had managed some that would leave more marks. Having had enough of you punching his kidneys over and over, Tangerine wounds his arms around your waist, throwing you onto the counter. 

Your thighs wrap around him as you slide to the side, bringing his head down to smack his forehead against the steel surface. He looses his balance, and you turn around onto your belly in an attempt to slide to the other side. Tangerine grabs at your leg however, sliding you back towards him.

Your nails try to grip onto the slick surface, hoping to grab something but you’re already being turned onto your back - his large hands holding down your wrists, his lower half keeping you pinned. 

His skin was flushed red with small cuts here and there, but you were sure you weren’t exactly far off. He stares down at you with a bewildered expression. “Did you,” He huffs out, grimacing as his muscles tense at the pain bursting through his body. “Did you plant fuckin’ bombs everywhere?”

“Guilty.” You replied, your breath coming out laboured in an attempt to catch it. 

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, both in an attempt to get in a full breath of air. Tangerine stares down at your cleavage, your breasts rising and falling quickly as you wince in pain. The hard drive was quite literally in arms reach, but he knew better than to let go and give you a free hand. 

“How we doing this darling?” He says, chuckling as he nods towards your chest. “Am I reaching in there or are you?”

“Aren’t you a gentleman?” You reply, feeling him push against you a little harder. “Is that- Are you? I really hope that’s another gun in your pants.”

“It’s not,” Tangerine looks down towards his pants before back to you, shrugging. “You’re not the only one who loves being thrown around.”

“You got me the-“

“Angel? Angel can you hear me?” A voice fills your right ear, a beeping following suit. You gasp, ignoring Tangerines expression as you hear your handlers voice for the first time in hours. The connection in this place was the worst, and you had gone in on the job completely blind. You would have forgotten about your earpiece had he not said anything. 

“Xan!” You speak aloud, the man currently pinning you to a counter looking around for another person. “It’s my handler, sh.”

“Oh I’m sorry darlin’, is this a bad time right now?” He rolls his eyes at you, almost in shock at the woman below him. Is she really on call right now?

“I’ll explain later, but you got about ten ravens, coming your way,” Xan was worried, that much you could tell. “You’ve got less than a minute.”

That wasn’t nearly enough time to get Tangerine off of you and out the exit. The Englishman stares, watching your expression go from shocked, to your eyebrows furrowing. You look around for anything and then tilt your head back, staring down at the door where the bad guys will soon be entering. 

Fair enough, you begin to hear heavy footsteps coming your way, and Tangerine looks up at the other doors, having heard them too. His weight feels a little less heavy against your thighs, but his hands still grip at your wrists.

There just wasn’t any time. 

“You’re not married are you?” You ask, using the distraction to slide your thighs beside his waist, sliding your calves up behind his lower back and locking your heels behind him.

He mumbles a little huh before shaking his head. Great.

With your legs locked behind him, you pull him down on top of you, bringing his lips to yours. His mouth was searing hot, and his eyes were wide at first in shock before he melted into the kiss. Tangerine’s hands leave your wrists, one hand gripping at your waist as the other holds himself up. The kiss was heavy and hungry, and your now free hand fisted at his ripped shirt in an attempt to draw him closer.

The hairs above his lip tickle at you, an almost funny feeling. To stop yourself from commenting on his facial hair, you bite at his lip. He groans against your skin, and his tongue was just about to sneak past your lips when the doors barge open, causing the gun for hire to seperate from you. 

You whine at the loss of his touch, half of you playing the part, the other genuinely missing the feeling. Hiding yourself in his shoulder, Tangerine brings one hand behind your upper back, shielding you from the men who had just entered the room.

“Can we fuckin’ help you?” He yells at them, glaring at their amused expressions. You both sent silent prayers they didn’t enter the room any further, their guns would no doubt be out and proud if they spotted Lemon on the floor behind you. “Can’t a man get some privacy?”

One of your hands laid against his pec as you titled your head towards him, feigning embarrassment. “Baby,” You kissed at his neck before bringing your head near his ear. “Can we go somewhere more private? I don’t like an audience.”

Tangerine swallows the urge to groan. “Seriously gentlemen, you’re scaring my lady here.”

The men say something, but you don’t speak French, and clearly neither does Tangerine - but what he said works, and they slowly but surely leave after scanning the kitchen, seeing it was relatively empty apart from you two horn dogs. 

Once the doors close behind them, you both visibly relax, Tangerine’s shoulders dropping as he releases a breath he was holding. You’re sitting up, your legs still wrapped around him with your chest pressed against his. “How did you know that would work?” He asks, amazed and feeling rather warm at your quick thinking.

“Public displays of affection, they always make people uncomfortable.” Tangerine scoffs at this, his hands resting on your waist. 

“Affection? You were grindin’ into me like your life depended on it.” 

You gasp at him. “I think you were the one humping me like a dog, and don’t get me started on that caterpillar above your lip tickling me!”

He chuckles loudly at you. “Ladies love the ‘caterpillar’ darling, never had any complaints.” 

Someone groans from behind the two of you, and your attention turns to the twin on the floor. Lemon was slowly waking up, and Tangerine immediately lets you go, rushing to be beside his brother as he comes to. 

You felt almost guilty, having been the one to knock him out and punch him - albeit accidentally. Tangerine leans down, clicking his fingers in his brothers face. 

“Angel, you have a clear exit straight ahead,” Xan speaks through the earpiece yet again, confused by your location having not moved. “What… What are you doing with a frying pan?”

Again, you almost felt guilty, but you couldn’t afford to have the two of them come after you.

“I’m really sorry for this,” You say, and as Tangerine turns to look at you, you’ve already swung, letting the metal connect with his head. “Seriously, really sorry.” You were hoping not to use as much force as before, wanting to slow him down rather than knock him out cold.

He falls over, landing on top of his brother. Loud groans leave the two of them, Lemon feeling the weight of his brother and Tangerine now kissing the floor. Yeah, it was too hard.

You climb over the two of them, leaning down to pull Tangerine off of the other man and laying him upright. His eyes roll into the back of his head as pain vibrates in his skull, and he doesn’t notice as you reach for his phone in his other pocket. 

“W-What,” he mumbles, his vision blurry. “What are you doin’?” 

“Giving you my number,” You tell him nonchalantly. “Give me a call when you’re no longer pissed off yeah?” 

He wasn’t sure if he heard you correctly, and by the time his eyes have focused - you’re gone, and he was ready to fall asleep - and he did. 

He wasn’t sure how long he had been knocked out for, but it was definitely less than Lemon. Your heels were left behind and his phone was left beside him, the device pinging with a text from an unknown number with an angel emoji. 

Tangerine sits upright with a wince, noticing Lemon holding a bag of frozen pees against his head.  His brother throws a spare bag of frozen carrots at him, and he catches it, copying his actions “You want to tell me what the fuck happened in 'ere?”

The man on the floor sighs, knowing you had run off with the hard drive. “She got away with the intel.”

“No shit,” Lemon pushes the pees closer to the bump on his head. “I’m just surprised she kept us alive.”

This intrigued him. He knew of you? “You know Angel?”

“You don’t read anything I give you do you?” He mutters something along the lines of idiot and typical Diesel. “She was in the files I gave you last week, she’s good, real good.” 

“She kissed me.” Tangerine replies, ignoring the digs made at his lack of awareness. 

“And?” He retorts, not following along. Lemon had read your file in great detail. You were skilled and a quick thinker, so it didn’t shock him that you had the upper hand on his brother.

“And I think I’m in love.” Tangerine stares down at his phone, the angel emoji staring back at him.

“Oh fuck off you are.” 

#tangerine x reader #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x oc #tangerine fic #bullet train #fookinfandoms

[ameenvie]

I Think He Knows - Jamie Tartt x fem!Reader

masterlist | ao3 | ko-fi | fic recs

"his hands around a cold glass makes me wanna know that body like it's mine"

Word count: 4.6k Warnings: nsfw, smut, minors DNI! kind of angry sex, unprotected sex (wouldn't recommend irl), oral(male receiving), fingering, p in v sex, praise kink, dirty talk, slightly dom!Jamie(?), hickeys, possessiveness Tags: smut Prompt/Summary: You go out to get your mind off work and Jamie - but to your surprise he shows up at the same bar as you. Things happen. Put me in horny jail. A/N: This is the first smut I've written in a hot minute, and my first ever Jamie fic, so I just hope it doesn't suck! 😭❤ I still have to get the hang of how to write him. Maybe the intro/non-smut part is a bit too long, but idk I kept rewriting this so much. :') I hope you enjoy nevertheless! ❤❤❤

It felt like thousands of hammers were beating down onto your head. You were staring at your computer screen, trying to grasp what you were looking at, but the stress, the flickering office lights, and the constant noises of talking made it impossible.

“I need a break” you exclaimed as you promptly stood up from your desk. The conversation next to you came to a halt as Keeley gave you a worried look.

“Are you alright, babe?”

“Sure, I just need a little fresh air” you answered with a sweet smile. Even though Keeley was your boss, she was also one of your best friends, and you were thankful to the universe that you met her.

You were the social media manager at KJPR responsible for the AFC Richmond brand. And as fun and exciting as it was, there were moments when you just wanted to run away and never look back. Such as today.

The team had a new brand partnership deal, and few of the players had to post to their socials about certain products. It was really nothing extraordinary, but it was a big brand so it was crucial that everything was on schedule. Now you were in the reporting phase, and you haven’t received the necessary info from one of the players yet. As you stood outside the office building, leaning against the wall, you picked your phone out of your pocket and dialed him. It rang once, twice… and he hang up on you. You rolled your eyes and cursed under your breath as you headed back to your desk.

“Need any help?” Keeley asked with the sweetest, most concerned voice you’ve ever heard, but you just shook your head.

“Nothing I can’t handle! I’m headed to the dog track if that’s alright. I need to take care of something.”

“Give ‘em hell!” she replied and left you alone.

You jumped into your car and drove over to Nelson Road, where you knew the boys had their training at the moment. The man at the front desk recognized you and let you in, and you headed to Rebecca’s office first to say hello, then went to the stands and took a seat to wait until the team was finished with practice. When Ted noticed you, he gave you that huge moustachy smile of his and waved at you. You mirrored the gesture before your gaze wandered back to the players.

You sat close enough to the pitch to make out his facial expression when he saw you. First, he seemed annoyed, then he gave you the most dramatic eyeroll you’ve ever seen before he ran away laughing.

You weren’t sure what he expected your reaction to be, but you knew you just looked annoyed.

“Whistle! WHISTLE!” You heard coach Kent scream at the players, and you chuckled. The team gathered around the coaches then made a beeline towards the changing room. You knew this was your cue to follow them as well.

You leaned against the wall as you waited for Jamie, hugging your bag. Of course because he was aware that you were waiting for him, he’d be dead last to leave. You weren’t sure if it was against your person or just the fact that he hated to cooperate. Maybe both. A few of the players started to leave and they waved and smiled at you as hey passed.

After what seemed like an eternity, he finally stepped out of the locker room – as you predicted – dead last. He stopped in the doorway with his hands in his pocket.

“I tried to call you.”

“I know” was all he said, and you raised your eyebrows at him. He was so cocky, you kind of wanted to punch him in the face, but that wouldn’t look too good on your resume.

“Alright, I guess you were busy then.”

“Nah, not really” he answered, and you saw a shit-eating grin spread on his face. God, Jamie.

“Look, I hope you don’t think I enjoy this, but I need the results of the campaign, okay? And you can only blame yourself, because you are the one who insisted that nobody can manage your account other than you. It would make all our lives much easier if I could just check the data myself.” You knew you were rambling and maybe talking a little too fast, showing how annoyed you were. You didn’t like giving people the satisfaction of knowing they got under your skin, but Jamie was world class at that.

“A’ight” he mumbled and started searching for his phone, then handed it to you. “If you want to check it so bad, go on, be my guest.”

You swore your eyes shot daggers at him. You grabbed his phone and took a seat on the bench next to you. He followed suit without a word, hands in his pockets.

You unlocked his phone and opened Instagram, but as you were navigating through it you saw a notification pop up from a girl with a text saying: “try me 😘”. Just a tiny glance at her profile picture was enough for you to conclude that she was gorgeous, and you felt your stomach do a flip. Were you… jealous? Of one of Jamie’s flings? C’mon.

You shook your head as if you could shake the thought out of it as you proceeded to check the necessary info. You didn’t realize, but while you were doing this, Jamie’s eyes searched your face like it held the answer to the universe’s biggest question.

You sent yourself a mail from his phone and shoved it back at him. He looked at you with a look you’ve never saw on his face before, and you could swear for a second that it was guilt sitting in his eyes.

“Thanks for nothing” you said as you grabbed your bag and left.

“Nice seeing you too!” he shouted as you slammed the door behind you. Your blood was boiling in your veins as you were walking back to your office. You dropped yourself onto your chair and buried your face in your palms. What a fucking day. He always finds a way to mess with your head. The sounds of Keeley knocking on your door snapped you out of it.

“Come in” you sighed as you looked at her with a defeated expression.

“Jamie again?” she asked sympathetically as she sat down in front of you.

“Always” you scoffed and started fiddling with a pen on your desk. He’s taking the piss out of me, always trying to get under my skin!” Keeley didn’t say anything, she just gave you a knowing look. “Stop looking at me like that, I know what you want to say!”

“I’m not saying anything” she replied and locked her mouth with an imaginary key and threw it away.

“That’s what I thought” you chuckled and took a deep breath. “I’ll be done with this by the end of the day, and then we can open your not-so-secret stash of champagne in your office, what do you say?”

“Sounds perfect, love!” As she left your office you delved into your work and tried not to think of Jamie. It was so silly – you thought. You felt like you were in school, arguing with yourself about your feelings, and having a crush on the guy who pulled on your ponytail. There was no way you were jealous right? Jamie was insufferable in general – cocky, arrogant, full of himself. Hard to work with. Attention seeking. But he had his moments where he was also funny. Caring. Honest. Compassionate. He was an amazing footballer.

You groaned out loud. You were wrapping up your day as you decided you’re going to put an end to this madness. You went home, picked out a nice dress – nothing too fancy, but it still made you feel like a million bucks. You called yourself an uber and asked them to bring you to one of your favourite bars. You were excited to finally grab a few drinks and let your hair down for a night, and maybe even go home with someone handsome to take your mind off your annoying feelings that started to bubble to the surface.

You took a seat at the bar and ordered your favourite drink. The bartender winked at you, and you chuckled. You propped yourself up on your elbow and started to look around. People were mingling, talking, laughing. Some couples were hiding in the more secluded corners of the room, whispering sweet nothings to each other.

You got your order but before you could thank the bartender for it, you heard a voice all too familiar.

“That’s on me. And another one, will ya’?” You turned around to face him as he was smiling down at you. Your heart skipped a beat as your eyes locked with his – you could never exactly pinpoint what colour they were, sometimes they seemed blue, sometimes grey, even green. You felt like you could stare at them forever. This wasn’t happening. You weren’t even sure if you ever saw him out and about like this. Instead of his usual tracksuit or puffy west he was wearing a white button-down shirt, with a few of its buttons unbuttoned, its sleeves rolled up, showing his tattoos. His hair was let loose, and a few strands fell into his eyes. You felt your heart drop into your stomach, and you were so shocked you couldn’t think of a single word to say, like your brain just short-circuited.

“Wow, Jamie, so nice to see you here, what a lovely coincidence! Come, join me for a drink!” he said, grounding you back to earth.

“Very funny. What are you doing here?” The words came out a little more accusatory than you meant, but you couldn’t help yourself. You came here to take your mind off him, and here he was, hotter than ever, standing so close to you that the scent of his cologne made you feel lightheaded. You wished the earth would just open up and swallow you whole.

“Just blowing off some steam. Celebrating my free weekend, I guess.” He shrugged.

“Alone?” Your question seemed to catch him off guard, as he raised his eyebrows. Your answer was just another shrug. “I see, I see, you don’t have to explain yourself to me, I know how this goes.” You waved with your hands in front of you, like you could shoo the image of him with other women out of your brain. You felt like you were going insane. In the meantime, he got his own drink, and he nursed it on the bar top with his left hand, the other in his pocket as he faced you. He looked even more gorgeous than usual, the way the shirt hugged his muscles ignited a flame in your body you never wanted to acknowledge.

“You know you’re being very judgmental now despite the fact, that you are alone as well.”

“I mean, it’s not my DMs that are full of gorgeous woman inviting me to tango” you scoffed, but immediately after you said the words out loud you scolded yourself internally for sounding so pathetic. Fucking hell.

“Are you jealous, love?” He grinned as he took a sip out of his drink. You rolled your eyes and stood up from your seat, but not before you managed to take a peek of how his lips touched the glass as he drank, and how perfect his jawline looked as he tilted his head slightly. FUCK.

“Maybe in your dreams, Tartt.”

“The lady doth protest too much” he laughed. You were quite shocked that Jamie Tartt out of all people would quote Shakespeare to you, but you were too angry to acknowledge that. You shook your head and turned your back on him, trying to get away, anywhere. You walked to the back of the big room and found yourself in a smaller conversation room – it was empty.

You took a deep breath, and you turned on your heels to head for another, more populated spot, but as you opened the door he stood there, one hand leaning against the doorframe, his drink in the other. He seemed like he was thinking.

“Jamie, I swear to God-” You couldn’t finish your sentence because he pushed himself into the room with you. You felt your heartbeat in your throat and heard it drumming loudly in your ears. He was so close. You closed the door behind him, and you only realized what that suggested after you saw his cocky smile. You didn’t immediately leave the room. You stayed there with him. It was painful to admit – even just to yourself -, but you wanted to be there with him.

He stepped closer, practically caging you between the door and his body. You felt your heart racing and your head spin as you looked up at his gorgeous face. Neither of you said anything, you were just searching his face, eyes darting between his gaze and his lips as you weren’t sure what to do. You didn’t realize he was looking at your lips as well, his breath fanning your face. He slowly leaned in; his lips were barely hovering above yours. Your heartbeat went into full overdrive, and you let his lips linger there for a second before you closed the gap and kissed him.

It all seemed to happen so fast you weren’t even sure it was real. You wrapped your arms around his neck and buried one of your hands in his hair as he was locking the door behind you. In any other circumstances he would be fuming about you ruining his hair, but not now. His hands were tracing your body as he pulled you into him – from your back to your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake before they finally settled on your bottom as he pulled you even closer. Your nerves were on fire, and you felt waves of arousal wash over you.

When you broke away to get some air, he wasted no time and started to plant small kisses on your cheek, slowly moving to your throat before settling at the soft spot between your neck and clavicle. You moaned his name which made him smile against your skin. You couldn't help but smile too. Somewhere a tiny voice in the back of your mind scolded you for being so euphoric about this whole situation, but you didn’t care. All you cared about is Jamie’s lips on you and the way his hand sneaked under your dress and drew hot circles on your skin.

“My name never sounded so pretty before” he mused before he pushed the strap of your dress aside to kiss a mark onto your skin just above your breast. Your breath hitched as you tried to make him stop.

“Stop it, people will see” you whined, which just encouraged him even more. You felt the prickling sensation on your skin, you were sure he’s going to leave a mark. When he finished, he adored his masterpiece before planting a soft kiss on the red spot he left behind.

“Maybe I want that, love” he whispered against your ear as he caressed your thighs. “I want everyone to see that you’re my girl.”

The sudden possessiveness caught you off guard and you let out a small whimper. Your common sense was thrown out of the window a while ago and at that moment that was all you wanted as well – everyone to see that you were his girl. He stopped for a second to look into your eyes. He placed his hands on your cheeks and pulled you in for another kiss. You saw stars as he kissed you with the passion of a starved man, his tongue gently caressing your lips before he went all in.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, and in a second, he lifted you by your thighs. You wrapped your legs around his hips which caused one of your shoes to fall off as he started to back towards the sofa. While doing so, he bumped into the small table, knocking his drink over. You both chuckled before he finally sat down, with you straddling him.

Your dress was ridden all the way up your thighs, making your black lace panties visible, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Jamie. His gaze seemed hungry, like he was ready to devour you any second, and you felt the heat creeping up to your ears.

“I see someone was planning on getting laid tonight” he said teasingly.

“Oh, fuck off, Jamie!”

“C’mon love I’m just messing with ya” he smiled at you before he put his hand on the back of your head and pulled you in for another kiss. He was smiling into it, the bastard. In this position you couldn’t help but feel his bulge press against you, which made your blood boil in your veins. You wanted him so bad. You let out a shaky breath as you unconsciously started to grind yourself against his clothed length. Jamie moaned under you, and he furrowed his brows like he was trying to focus on the sensation, nothing else.

You slowly unbuttoned his shirt, leaving kisses on his chest as you progressed, and when you finished you slightly pushed it off his shoulders. You were mad for him, and even though you didn’t want to admit, you wanted nothing more than him fucking you right then and there. Little did you know that Jamie was feeling the same.

He looked at you with those gorgeous puppy eyes and you couldn’t help yourself anymore. You planted open mouthed kisses on his sharp jawline, neck, down his chest. You felt bold all of a sudden, and started to suck a mark onto his neck, which he rewarded with a groan. You took a second to examine the red mark you left on his skin before you licked it softly to ease the pain left in its wake. Jamie was a moaning mess under you, bucking his hips into you involuntarily, his hands gripping your thighs for dear life. You felt bold, wanted, sexy. Like a million bucks.

“Jamie, I want you to fuck me” you whispered into his ear, and you thought his soul left his body in that second.

“Fucking hell, angel” he answered and instantly one of his hands was in your hair, pulling you into another kiss, his other hand pushing your dress higher on your body, until your whole ass was exposed. “Such a greedy lil’ thing, aren’t ya?”

He looked at your dampened underwear as he hovered his finger over it, then swiped one big stroke from your entrance to your clit through the damp fabric. You shut your eyes and threw your head back from the sensation. Finally feeling his touch on you was like heaven. The flames of need were eating away at your body, and you weren’t sure how long you can stand the teasing.

“Please, Jamie”

“You’re fucking cute when you beg” he said, a cocky grin on his face, but before you could say anything, he hooked one of his fingers into your panties, and pulled them aside, exposing you completely. You felt flustered, your confidence wavered. He didn’t leave you time to overthink, because he pushed one of his fingers into you without any difficulty. You let out a moan which he mirrored before he spoke. “Shit, all this for me? I don’t deserve you.”

“You’re damn right you don’t” you chuckled as he started to pump his finger into you, before quickly adding another one. He smiled at you as you rested your forehead against his, slowly riding on his fingers. With his free hand he managed to pull down the strap of your dress enough to free your breast and he started to kiss and nib on your sensitive skin, leaving another hickey just above your nipple.

You hissed at the sensation and bucked your hip a bit harder, making him press into you deeper. Jamie’s fingers felt like they were made for you, and he damn well knew how to use them. As you started to ride him a bit harder, he started to curl his fingers inside you to press against your sweet spot and started circling his thumb against your clit with just the right amount of pressure, it made you see stars. You were a moaning, whimpering mess as his fingers fucked you senseless, pushing deeper and deeper with every movement.

“I know, love” he whispered between kisses. You bit down on his lower lip before you tongues started to dance around each other, and he moved his free hand to cradle your breast and caress your hardened nipple. It was all too much – his lips on yours, his hand on your tit and his fingers fucking you like there was no tomorrow.

You felt tension build in your body, your nerves wind up, ready to be released any second. You started riding his fingers harder and faster, chasing that high you felt was so close.

“C’mon angel, come for me, that’s it. That’s my good girl” he whispered against your lips, and just after a few more pumps of his fingers you came crashing hard with Jamie’s name falling from your lips like a prayer, your veins filled with fire as your vision turned white.

He wrapped you in his arms and started to draw circles on your bare back as you came down from your high while he placed small kisses into the crook of your neck and on your temple. After a minute of collecting yourself, you sat up and kissed him again as you started to undo his belt. You definitely weren’t unaware of the huge bulge in his pants, and you wanted to ease his suffering.

He just watched you do it, with one of his arms spread across the back of the sofa. He looked mesmerized by how beautiful you were. After you finished with his belt you undid the buttons of his slacks and pulled them down with his underwear. He just watched you and you could swear he was holding his breath.

You bit your lip as you took the view in, before you started slowly stroking his hard member. He threw his head back and he moved his hand to caress your cheek. You continued to slowly jerk him off, but you couldn’t help yourself. You licked the tip of his dick, and you made it a show. It was slow, sensual, and you looked at him for the whole time. When he caught your eyes he let out a shaky breath and involuntarily bucked his hips towards your face.

You swiped your tongue against his shaft before you took him fully into your mouth and started bobbing your head. His hand moved to tangle in your hair as he guided your rhythm slowly. He moaned under your touch, loving the way your lips felt around him. You started to pick up your pace a little and he rolled his hips against your face. His hand started to push you deeper onto his cock, and the feeling of his length in your throat made your eyes swell up, and you moaned around him.

“C’mon love” he said and guided you away from him, back onto his lap. You straddled him again, his now bare dick pressed against your wet pussy, and you saw stars from the sensation. “Maybe next time we’ll finish that, yeah? But now I want all of you” he said as he aligned himself to your entrance.

Next time was all you heard in your head. You leaned down to kiss him before you slowly lowered yourself onto him. You relished in the sensation of his cock filling and stretching you inch by inch, it was delicious. Jamie’s lips parted slightly as he threw his head back, enjoying the moment just as much as you did. As he bottomed out, you kept still for a second, barely moving before starting to roll your hips, slowly lifting yourself before coming down again.

“Jamie” you whined, and you held onto his shoulders for dear life as you rode him. His fingers dug into your skin at your hips where he held you. You moved so perfectly in sync it was like you were made for each other, the way he rolled his hips into you made you see stars.

“So good for me, love. Taking me so well, my good girl” he whispered against your lips after he sat up, wrapped you into a tight hug and kissed you. He swiped his tongue against your swollen lips, and you bit down on his. You dug your fingers into his hair as you started moving faster and faster, getting overwhelmed by the sensation.

Jamie moved his hand from your hair to your cheek, swiping your lips with his thumb before pushing it into your mouth. You licked it slowly before he pulled it away and moved it to your swollen clit. You gasped at the perfect feeling of his finger being on you again, before he started to circle his thumb around the sensitive bud. You felt your walls tighten around him, which ripped a moan from his lungs. He never stopped his movements, he fucked into you like he never wanted anything else.

“Taking me so well, babe. So tight for me” he whispered against your burning skin. His words poisoned your mind, and they ran through your veins, igniting everything inside you. You buried your head into his shoulder as you felt your climax approaching. He was filling you up so perfectly, his dick hitting your sweet spot with every thrust. He was gripping your thigh so hard you wondered if it’s going to leave a mark. You kind of hoped it would. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, and his name fell from your lips like a prayer.

“Jamie, I-“ you gasped and you dug your nails into his shoulders.

“That’s it, angel. Come for me” he moaned against your ear and you knew he held himself back. You rolled your hips against him once, twice, all your nerves wind up before they inevitably snapped, and another orgasm washed over you. You moaned into Jamie’s mouth – your vision went white, your muscles clenched around him as you came, which gave him what he needed to reach his own high as well, hugging you tightly onto him. The silence in the room felt deafening all of a sudden. You nuzzled your face into the crook of Jamie’s neck, and he started to slowly caress your hair as he hugged you close.

After your nerves calmed down a bit you started to collect yourself and he helped you to clean up the mess. He took your hand and kissed you, before looking into your eyes.

“So… do you want to get out of here?” His grin was the widest you’ve ever seen and you laughed.

“Yeah, sure” you chuckled as he wrapped his arm around you.

***

The next morning you woke up to your phone ringing. It was Keeley.

“Yeah?” you asked in a sleepy voice, looking over at Jamie who was laying next to you, his arm wrapped around your waist. You were in his bed. He was already awake, looking at you with a sheepish smile.

“So, I know you don’t want to talk about this” Keeley started, her energy through the roof, she spoke so fast you barely had time to acknowledge her words, “but I think you should talk to Jamie. You should tell him you’re into him!” A very telling laugh found its way past your lips before you spoke and you heard an audible gasp on the other side of the line.

“I think he knows” you said to Keeley while looking at Jamie, who was now chuckling next to you as he kissed your free hand.

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt smut #jamie tartt ff #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #smut #oneshot #ted lasso #ted lasso x reader #jamie tartt x reader

[galamalion]

⚔︎. 𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐘 (𝐢)

summary. you join mizu on her quest for vengeance, discovering more about yourselves on the way towards her ultimate goal.

⤷ contents. mizu x fem!reader, blue eye samurai spoilers, violence, mention of suicide, themes of racism + misogyny, slight slow burn, slight enemies to lovers // wc. 10.6k

⤷ notes. i don't have name for this series yet, i just really wanted to write something for mizu lol idk if i want it to be reverse harem? probably won't see any taigen or akemi x reader, or x mizu for that matter (mizu only has eyes for you <3) anyways i hope you enjoy this story and what's to come!

chapters. [i] [ii] [iii] [iv] [v] [vi] [vii] [viii]

Pure, untouched snow crunched beneath your worn-out sandals as you trudged behind Mizu, choosing each step carefully to avoid shoving your foot deep inside a snowbank and ruining your shoes further than they already had.

The weather hadn’t been great, all things considered. The wind was a tad too harsh, nipping bitterly at your cheeks and nose, letting the falling snow melt into your kimono and dampen the fabric slightly.

Despite your light-hearted complaints, Mizu insisted that you keep walking. Mizu was nothing if not determined to reach your destination in a day, not wanting to waste any more time than you already had. And so you trekked across the white frosted forest, following the hidden path that was completely buried in snow.

“You really think the man you’re looking for will be here?” you asked, side-stepping a thick layer of snow.

Mizu hummed in response.

“And if he’s not here?” you pried.

“Then I’ll find out where he went from here,” she answered curtly, not bothering to turn around.

You sighed, pulling your hanten tight over your chest. In addition to shelter, you’d also like to stop by a town, a busy one, if you were able. Clothes weren’t a necessity—you could walk a couple more miles in your sandals, and your kimono was at least still fairly new. But on account of Mizu’s proclivities, you were in desperate need of more bandages. You still had a few bundles of herbs and plants you picked before the snow fell, but you were fearful those would eventually rot or decay inside your inro.

“Just try to keep the bloodshed to a minimum,” you sighed, “or at the very least, your bloodshed.”

“I make no promises,” she stated plainly.

You just rolled your eyes.

After a few more minutes of walking, your thin trail ended, leaving you in the midst of a ramshackled town. Mizu continued walking through it, not sparing a glance to anything except for the building that lay straight ahead. A noodle shop, or so the sign said.

You walked ahead of Mizu to get a closer look at the dilapidated building, dodging more snowbanks to reach your goal. As you got closer to the shop, you noticed Mizu had stopped in her tracks, standing still behind you. 

Spinning around to see why she paused, you immediately saw three children, the leader holding a small rock and preparing to throw it at Mizu. She turned her head slightly, not quite looking at the children, only just enough for them to catch a glimpse of her unamused expression.

The children quickly ran back to their homes, dropping their stones as they fled. Mizu resumed her stride, stepping up beside you in front of the store.

You lightly poked Mizu’s shoulder, “Are we here strictly on business, or can I get something to eat?”

Mizu grumbled, fishing some coins out as she slid the door open and stepped through the loose fabric that hung above the entryway.

The two of you made your way to a table in the corner, Mizu obscuring her face with her hat and you keeping your head down. As a woman should, or at least in public. Mizu wanted to keep a fairly low profile, and so you were willing to make at least some sacrifices on her behalf. The slight jabs and insults you received on account of your gender, after all, were nothing compared to the ones Mizu received. 

“Welcome, sir and madam,” a portly young man said, sitting down beside your table, “I'll bring you some tea. It's not good tea, but it's hot, and you're frozen, and I'll bring you a rag because when I'm frozen, my snot drips. Then a nice big soba. We make the best soba. Honest. Bad tea, great soba. Okay?”

Mizu gave a polite nod in response, while you just stared bewildered at the talkative man. You managed to muster out a ‘thank you’, doing your best to put a kind smile on your face.

The man smiled back and rose to his feet, marching jovially back to the kitchen to prepare your tea and noodles. He was stopped at the next table, however, as the scrawny man sitting there jutted his leg out to stop him.

“Stumpy!” the harsh voice crowed, “more noodles, fast.”

The lanky man sneered as the waiter-cook obliged, returning to his station in the back. His upper lip curled as he turned to the two young women next to him.

“I paid your fathers good money for you,” he snidely remarked. “The brоthеls will pay me even more once you get some curve on, you skinny country nothings. Eat!”

Your nose wrinkled at his loathsome behavior. It was the one thing you were never able to stomach, the gross maltreatment of women, like meat being prepared for eating. Mizu’s perceived appearance as a man earned your envy, knowing that she wouldn’t be viewed in the same way you were. But you knew that you both weren’t accepted in the circles you wanted to join, and that just because Mizu looked like a man, didn’t mean she would be accepted with open arms.

The bald young man returned with two bowls of noodles and tea, setting it down gingerly before you. Mizu, suspicious as ever, sniffed before diving into her meal, while you greedily downed the bowl entirely, placing the empty container down before Mizu could finish her last bite.

“It’s good, right?” he grinned, swiping your dirty bowl away from you while you took your cup of tea.

He left your table momentarily to deliver the tray of noodles to the old man, standing before him with the fresh steaming bowls.

“Finally!” he barked, snagging the face of the poor girl sitting closest to him. “Eat up, girls. Eat it all!”

The fearful girl swatted his hand away, causing it to crash and spill one of the bowls of hot noodles across the lap of the old man, who angrily stood up and slapped the poor man.

“What are you, a dog?” he growled, turning to point a finger at the cook who had just run out. “You let a dog serve food!”

You clenched your fists beneath the table, keeping your head down to avoid exploding. If only by his boisterous attitude, you assumed this was the man Mizu had been looking for. All the men Mizu searched for were similar, fitting into two categories: loud and overconfident. There was often overlap between the two.

“F-Forgive my son,” the man laughed nervously, bowing to the furious customer. “Can’t go a day without breaking dishes.”

The cook turned to his son, anger in his voice, “Ringo, clean him!”

“I’m sorry,” Ringo said, attempting to walk towards the man, only to slip on the noodles he had just dropped, causing the tray to drop the other bowl of noodles onto the man’s lap.

You wished you were anywhere else right now.

“Agh!” the old man cried out, reaching for his chest. You were unable to see his movements as his back was towards you.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Ringo repeated, desperately trying to salvage the situation by picking up the mess below.

The old man’s hand retracted from his chest, pointing straight towards Ringo. The gasps around the room told you what you couldn’t see. And as the room swiftly grew quiet, you could barely make out the weapon grasped in his hand when he shrugged.

“Ah…I should put down this lame dog,” he growled, bringing the gun back up to point at Ringo.

Ringo stared unflinchingly, as if confused by the man’s words, “I’m not a dog,” he said confidently, yet with a twinge of fear present in his voice.

“Did you just bark?” he chuckled darkly. “Do you know who I am? I am Hachiman the Flesh-Trader, and no one messes with Hachi!”

Ah. So it was him. You turned to take in Mizu’s reaction, only to see her staring straight down at the table beneath you. And, in a moment that made you wish you were deaf, Mizu pushed the table forwards, causing a shrill squeak to echo throughout the room as it scraped against the floor., earning the attention of Hachiman.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” you hissed under your breath, praying that Mizu wouldn’t be dumb enough to goad the man with a gun. She’d threatened and bribed men for information in the past, some merchants, and some fellow samurai. They could be dangerous, and they often were, refusing to give up the necessary information without a fight. But they hand knives, swords. Not guns.

Mizu stood from the table and slowly strode over to Hachiman, keeping her eyes trained on his gun as she moved to stand in front of him.

“Impressive,” she hummed, taking small steps towards him, “I’ve never seen a gun like it.”

You grabbed the tea kettle and poured some into your cup, taking a deep breath in an attempt to cool your nerves. Mizu had gotten into worse situations before—none involving a gun, of course, but equally as dangerous. Those samurai that refused to give up, those merchants who feared for their lives, they all died like dogs beneath Mizu’s blade. 

‘He’ll be no different,’ you thought, bringing the cup up to your lips. Looking down at your hands, you realized they were shaking ever so slightly. 

She placed her hand on her chin, tilting her head to gaze down the barrel of the gun, “Front loading, not a Japanese pistol,” she remarked, grazing her finger across the weapon. “A European design, isn’t it?”

Remaining silent, you sent a sharp glare towards Mizu, who had not yet disobeyed your one request of her, but was getting real damn close to it. Her eyes flickered towards yours in acknowledgement, although whether it was her trying to tell you that she understood your concerns or her telling you that she had it under control was a mystery. You just assumed the latter.

The other customers fled the building, leaving you as the only patron still inside, although you weren’t exactly eager to stay, not wanting to get caught up in the ensuing firefight. Your eyes darted to Mizu’s hand, noticing her middle and index finger were pointing straight down, which was Mizu’s signal for you to leave.

You rose from the table and quickly walked outside the store, not bothering to look back at the standoff behind you. Mizu could handle herself, especially against a crotchety old pervert like that man. All that was left for you to do was wait, and hope that your patient didn’t get herself killed.

It was spring—not early, though. All the snow had melted and it was beginning to pour into summer, the sun becoming hotter with each passing day. You were out in the woods, a couple paces away from your small town, but not far enough away as to have to worry about bandits. 

You were on a mission to fetch medicinal supplies, both for your own collection as well as for your fellow villagers who had paid you for your efforts. Mixing and making salves and herbal blends was your specialty, and it had earned you a pretty penny. 

On account of being an orphan and lacking family to support, you had to become resourceful. Your former village lacked a structured orphanage, leaving you to wander the underdeveloped streets as a scavenging rat. It was hardly a life, but you made do. Learning that people would pity a poor, starving girl was the greatest weapon in your arsenal, though you knew it could easily lead to your downfall.

Joining a wealthy household would be effortless, but it would come with dreadful and unpredictable consequences. A daughter would only be accepted if there were a son, one you would have to marry once you came of age. Or at least, that was your thought process. Perhaps a family could, would take you in and expect nothing of you. But you were a talentless orphan, one who could give nothing even if nothing was needed of you. 

And so, you left your village, moving in the dead of night along the dirt path in search of a new home.

Your travels brought you to a new, ever so slightly smaller village, and yet there seemed to be more people, more faces. At first you simply watched, trying to get a feel before sinking your teeth into anyone here.

And your patience was rewarded, finding your long-awaited prize.

You’d discovered an old man, a doctor, judging by his customers and conversation you’d picked up. One night you knocked on his door, begging on your knees for a place to stay and promising everything you could give. And so, under the guise of being his doting attendant, you began keeping an eye on his carefully guarded work. Over the years you began assembling your own guide, making improvements upon his recipes and even crafting a few of your own. Once he died—natural causes, of course—you lacked any competition. 

You weren’t allowed to practice medicine, at least not directly, but you were easily able to play into the role of a concerned woman with old recipes generously shared by your master when you were ill. 

And nobody was any wiser, praising you for your teas and ointments and whatever the hell else you managed to conjure up. You could heal sore throats, rejuvenate women’s skin for the pleasure of their suitors and husbands. Who wouldn’t buy from you? 

In the end, you were alive, happily unmarried, and had a stable income. It was the dream of so many young girls, and you were living it.

You’d already collected enough to meet your quota, but you were after your own batch of herbs. It was important to start prepping medicine early, as once the first frost struck, everything would wither and die. But as you discovered a rich cluster beneath a tree, you heard an anguished groan nearby, causing you to whip around.

The sliver of an arm poked out from behind the tree, clearly not wide enough to hide whoever was sitting before it. You took a deep breath and carefully circled around to the other side of the tree, keeping a fair amount of distance between as you looked upon the unknown being.

Lying beneath the tree was a man, one you hadn’t recognized. Most, if not all, of the men in your current village were rather hairy and brutish, whereas the stranger was lithe and clean, a pair of shaded glasses covering their eyes. But what really caught your attention were his obvious wounds, clearly injured from some sort of weapon, though you’d need a closer look to really assess any kind of damage.

“You’re bleeding,” you noted, marching up to the injured man sitting before you.

If he was startled by your presence, he didn’t show it, but perhaps his injuries were making him delirious. His side had a small cut, light bleeding and probably didn’t require stitches. The shoulder, however, was in far worse shape, blood seeping out through his shirt and down to his forearm. You couldn’t know how bad it was until you looked at it, but the man seemed apprehensive.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, pressing a thin piece of torn fabric to his shoulder.

Your head nudged towards the sword at his waist, “You’re a samurai, not a doctor. Let me see it.”

“You’re not a doctor either,” he said, pressing his back further against the tree, and  away from you.

“Well, I’m the closest thing you’re going to get,” you glared at the stubborn man. “Unless you want to let the old bastards in my town drain your blood.”

The stranger glared back, clenching his fists and chewing his cheek in thought. It was a bluff on your end, knowing that not a soul in your village had any kind of medical knowledge. You could feel in your heart that he was a stubborn soul, and he’d certainly bleed out if you tried to bring him back to your town. Or maybe he’d just be chased out, on account of his strange and mysterious getup. 

“Please,” you implored, “I can help.”

He grunted, looking down at the wound on his shoulder, moving a shaking hand up to it before turning his eyes back to you.

“Fine,” he mumbled, gritting his teeth as he pressed on his shoulder. “Just make it quick.”

A deafening shot rang through your ears, bringing you out of your thoughts, but the strident cry that followed it eased your on-edge nerves. It was a garish noise, one that Mizu would never make, especially not in combat. She was more of a grunter.

It was fairly quiet until Mizu came out, another scream echoing behind her as she slammed the door closed.

“Successful?” you asked, trying to gauge her reaction at what had transpired.

“A name,” she responded, walking ahead.

You followed her, a pout forming on your lips, “It’s always another name.”

“This one has a direct connection.”

“So did the last one.”

Mizu didn’t respond, only continuing her determined walk out of the village.

The wind hadn’t let up at all, still blowing snow across your face and freezing the tips of your fingers. But gradually, as you followed Mizu on the path, the wind began to die down, only the snow falling from the sky was left to land on your skin, leaving a tingling feeling as they melted away.

And cold weather aside, the environment that surrounded you was beautiful, from the cliffside view of the water below to the towering bamboo that stood proudly, if only slightly disturbed by the snow and frost that covered it. You took time to marvel at these sights, while Mizu continued to keep her head down, head covered by her conical hat, keeping the snow away without any effort on her part. Perhaps there was more you envied about her than you thought.

Your peaceful journey was interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps, though they were still some ways away. Both you and Mizu had turned around, seeing no one in the immediate distance behind you, either. She put a hand on your shoulder, gently pushing you behind her as she drew her sword, walking on the path of which you came.

“Stay here,” she whispered, prowling towards the sound.

You shrugged and grasped the knife that was tucked inside of your kimono, watching as Mizu left you alone, though she wasn’t gone for long. Returning with her sword sheathed, Mizu continued walking right past out, resuming the journey.

“Did you find anyone?’ you asked, ever so slightly curious.

“Yes.”

“...Did you kill them?”

“No.”

The lack of explanation in her single word responses clued you in to stop asking questions.

Slowly the bamboo grotto you found yourself in transitioned into small trees, crowded around one another in entangled root systems and branches above. The trees grew sparser and sparser with each step on the path, though they were growing larger, thicker. Soon the trees towered far, far above you, holding up heavy batches of snow with their needles, branches bowing down under the weight of the thick white blanket that coated them.

After another ten-or-so minutes of walking, the two of you encounter a small, decaying temple. It was in better condition than any of the buildings in the village you had come from, standing out among the lonesome path and soaring trees. but it seemed to grab Mizu’s attention, as she began walking up the broad stone steps.

You stopped at the base of the stairs, looking up at her, “Would you like some privacy, Mizu?”

Mizu stopped amidst the stairs, looking down at you below with an expression of pleasant surprise.

“That…would be nice,” she took a few more steps up to the entrance, turning back to you one last time. “Thanks.”

Brushing some snow off your self proclaimed seat, you leaned against one of the short stone pillars, doing your best to find comfort against the rough and uncomfortable material. Mizu shouldn’t be too long, unless she was planning on spending the rest of the day praying for her vengeance. In the past you’d believe that, but you were more in tune with her personality now. 

You’d been traveling without a lead for so long, passing through rain, wind, and snow for days without rest. Name after name after name perpetuated the eternal journey you found yourself on, leading you on a wild, unending chase to find a single man. This was the guidance she needed, a direct path to the man in question, creating a new opening for her to walk upon in search of her goal.

Mizu had finally found the spark to reignite her self-righteous fury, and she was going to let it burn for as long as possible.

“You need to be still, moving can lead to the wound opening,” you hissed, tying off the last bandage.

“It’s my arm that’s injured, not my legs. I’ll be fine.”

“Listen, samurai,” you reached for his hand, “you can’t just—”

Before you could get close to even touching his palm, your wrist was caught tightly within his hand, squeezed uncomfortable as he stared deep into your eyes, past them, into your soul.

His free hand, the injured one, shakily went to his tinted glasses, tilting them down to the tip of his nose, giving you the first real glimpse of what laid behind them.

Your eyes widened ever so slightly, but no noise would exit your parted lips.

They were blue—not like the sky, they were brighter than that. And yet there was still so much darkness within. He had distinct eyelids, different from everyone you had ever known or seen. And there was beauty in that, but it was a shameful beauty. A beauty that screamed his difference to the world, proclaiming for all to see that he was not like the rest. That a white man had aided in his creation. But to blame a creation for the faults of its creator was a cruel decision, wasn't it?

And yet you could not conceal your shock at his mere existence.

His straightened mouth briefly twitched into a frown before returning back to his cool facade, releasing your wrist and walking away, a hand clutching his shoulder.

“That wound is bound to get infected,” you called out, stomping after the samurai. “And those stitches in your side will need to be removed, not to mention those bandages will need to be changed out with the amount of blood already seeping through them.”

He continued his gait, not bothering to look at you, “I can take care of it.”

“You need me,” you insisted, pacing right behind him. “If you wanted that wound fixed up, you wouldn’t be lying against a tree like you were.”

“I need no maid nor nurse.”

“I have money.”

Although he tried to keep it contained, you could see the way his shoulders tensed up at your words. Or perhaps his injuries were worse than even he thought.

“Let me care for your wounds; I’ll pay for any medicine and accommodations until you’re fixed up. Then we can part ways.”

“Have you nothing better to do?” he pried, a mixture of annoyance and genuine curiosity within his question.

“The only people that require my services here,” you gestured behind you, “are old people knocking on death's door, and women who are constantly pregnant. You are the freshest breath of air I have ever had in my years of living in this shitty village.”

You took a deep inhale before continuing, “Like I said, once we’re done and you’re fully healed, I’ll leave you be. You get a free, temporary doctor, and I get a nice story to tell my future children.”

He stared through you once again, piercing eyes contemplating your offer. From your perspective, at least, it seemed flawless. Doctors were expensive, and as a samurai he clearly lacked any stable income. A free, mobile doctor guaranteed him at least some financial security, although having a companion could potentially lead to unfortunate situations if he were to land himself in danger. Which begged the question: did he have reservations about your safety, or his?

“Fine,” he sighed, head falling in resignation. “But I make the rules, and you’ll stay out of my way.”

He moved to sit on a nearby rock, carefully moving the lower half of his shirt out of the way, giving you access to the injury on his side.

“I can take care of my shoulder later,” he muttered.

You shrugged, moving to inspect and apply your salves.

“Does the samurai have a name?” you questions, dabbing an ointment into his cut.

He growled as it entered his wound, “Mizu,” he hissed, clawing at the boulder beneath him.

“I’m ____,” you said, carefully wrapping bandages around his side. “Pleasure to meet your acquaintance, master Mizu.”

“...Don’t call me that.”

“Let’s go,” Mizu announced as she hiked down the stairs, joining you at the bottom and continuing the path before you.

“Any specific destination in mind?” you probed, leaning forward to see Mizu’s expression.

“Kyoto,” she answered, face unchanging. Truly an envy to statues everywhere.

“You said you got a name from that old geezer, so what are we looking for? A place, a person, a thing…”

“I’m looking for a man.”

“So, nothing new,” you sighed, tucking your icy hands inside your hanten.

The walk wasn’t much longer, the constant crunching of snow beneath your feet filling the void of silence between you two, though its calming effect soon dissipated, leaving you annoyed with each step until you reached Kyoto.

Soon enough you were standing in line before the towering gate, guards standing in front and above the entrance. You’d never been to any kind of central hub before you met Mizu, only knowing less than a hundred people, and that’s after combing from the two villages you’ve lived in. One thing you did know, however, was that women weren’t allowed to enter without an escort. Women in your village would complain about it whenever they had to go out and sell their goods and products, though you never had to leave for your business. Perks of being a monopolist, you supposed.

“Don’t speak,” Mizu leaned into your ear, voice a hush whisper. “Stay behind me, and stay close.”

“Not my first city entering with you, Mizu,” you shot back, folding your hands in your sleeves. 

“Next!” the front guard called out, beckoning the next person forward.

A woman and her child stepped forward, showing their travel pass to the guard who sneered at it.

“This travel pass is invalid,” he declared.

You peeked over Mizu’s shoulder to get a better view at the situation taking place.

“My husband is dead. I made the baskets, he only sold them,” the woman begged, “please, or I can’t feed my children.”

The guard rolled his eyes, “You know the rules. Women can’t travel without a chaperone.”

‘Barbaric,’ you thought, sinking your nails into your forearms. Stupid rules written by stupid men. How lucky you were to have a chaperone on this trip.

“Next!” he shouted, not giving the sobbing woman another glance.

Mizu stepped forward and you followed closely behind, keeping your head down to conceal your rage.

“Travel pass,” he said boredly, his eyes briefly flickering to your form before looking back at Mizu.

Reaching into her clothing, Mizu withdrew a couple of coins, flashing the glimmering pieces to the guard who eagerly swiped them up, looking at the next people in line.

You shared a quick look with the daughter who was comforting her distraught mother, wishing there was something you could do to help. Looking up at Mizu, you saw her also gazing at the child with far less emotion on her face. Only a second had passed before Mizu looked away, marching her way past the gate and into the city, leaving you to catch up.

“Are we really not going to help her?” you blurted out as you followed Mizu through the busy streets.

If Mizu heard you, she didn’t respond, just looking at the tall snow-covered buildings lining the streets, colorful banners adorning detailed walls.

“Mizu—”

“There was nothing I could do, ____,” she scolded, turning back to look at you. “It would have caused more trouble than it was worth. I can’t afford to bring two more girls into the city, and there was no way anyone there would have left me.”

You exhaled shakily, clenching your fists and taking deep breaths in order to calm down.

“It’s just not fair,” you muttered, looking down at your feet.

Mizu sighed, placing a firm hand on your shoulder, “I promise I will try to do something for them.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, bringing your head up to look at her face, those kind and thoughtful eyes hiding behind her glasses.

She stepped away briefly, attempting to approach strangers for directions with little results. It almost caused you to feel embarrassed for her unfruitful efforts, if not for the three horses barreling straight towards her.

“Mizu, watch out!” you shouted as Mizu caught sight of the incoming horses, shooting backwards in response.

“Watch it, asshole!” the lead rider yelled, pulling on the reins of his horse.

You ran up beside Mizu, glaring at the pompous man. Mizu stuck and arm out in front of you, a silent message to contain your anger, lest you get the both of you in trouble.

“Apologies,” Mizu said, mouth pressed into a straight line, “I’m looking for something, but Kyoto is quite large. Do you know where I could find the Shindo Dojo?”

“Shindo?” the man to his left scoffed, peering down at the two of you. “That’s our dojo, and you think you’re going to apply?”

The man to his right laughed, “You look like a blind beggar!” He took his riding crop and slapped Mizu’s glasses off.

All three chuckled, pleased with their actions, one nodding his head at you.

“Are you really traveling with this guy, lady?” He extended his hand to you. “Hop on and I’ll take you for a real ride.”

Your lip curled in thinly veiled disgust, “Thank you for the offer, sir, but I’m quite pleased with my current situation.”

Mizu let out a long sigh, putting on a smile, “If you would please show me how to find your dojo, I would be grateful.”

“Sure,” the left man said, “follow the road to the shrine. Once you go around the gates, you'll see the sign across the puppet show.”

“Good luck!” they called back, laughing as they rode. You spit on the ground they had been as their horses galloped away.

Wiping off the snow that had been kicked up onto her shoulder, Mizu began to follow the directions given to her, leaving you to do most of the talking, as per usual.

“Bastards,” you growled, “pissants, the lot of them.”

“Calm down,” Mizu ordered, searching for your destination.

“Calm down? Calm down? Those cocky dickheads deserve every misfortune they come across.”

“Keep your eye out for a puppet show.”

“And the way he thought I’d just crumple to my knees and get on his stupid horse! Can you believe that?”

“Around the gates…”

“Not even mentioning the way they treated you, as if you couldn’t kick their asses with one arm tied behind your back. Shindo Dojo my ass.”

“There are consequences for attacking without consent of a duel first, and the last thing I want to do is be sent to prison for something as foolish as defending my honor,” Mizu said, turning the corner.

“Would you defend my honor?” you smiled, waiting for an answer.

“No.”

Well, it was an answer, at least.

The bustling city around you left no room for conversation, only the need to dodge passersby and merchants attempting to sell you goods that you had no use for. As you walked further and further into the city, the traders trickled away, only peeping men lined the streets now, peering inside the countless brothels.

“Why would a dojo be in a red light district?” you pondered aloud, trying your best to not make eye contact.

“For once,” Mizu answered, nose scrunched up, “we’re having similar thoughts…”

Your destination was only a few buildings down, and judging by the lewd ongoings within, was certainly not the Shindo Dojo.

“You two look lost,” a sultry voice cooed, arms stretching out to grab you and Mizu.

Standing in front of the brothel were two very dressed up women, crimson dusting their cheeks, matching the vibrant red that decorated their lips and eyes.

“We were just leaving,” you asserted, shaking out of their hold.

The woman laughed, going over to hug Mizu’s arm, “Why don’t you come inside, lost boy? Rest a while…with us.”

You found it difficult to conceal your revulsion, not eager to picture Mizu having relations while you had to wait in the other room. Though judging from Mizu’s shocked face, she didn’t seem too fond of the idea either.

“I’m looking for the Shindo Dojo—” she began, quickly interrupted by an old man being thrown out of the brothel. A naked, old man.

“Which, I can see…” Mizu grimaced, “this is not.”

“You think?” you snorted, earning a dirty look from Mizu.

“It’s better,” the shorter prostitute said, smiling. “It's the Shindo House. If it’s sword skills you’re wanting to show off, you can do it here.”

The taller prostitute grinned, “We can polish up the tip for you…”

A shudder went down your spine at the sight of their flirtations, giving you the strength needed to put an end to this conversation.

“We’re terribly busy, and have urgent business at the Shindo Dojo,” you insisted, trying to pull Mizu away from the women.

“Oh, are you sure, little pearl? If you wanted to join in, all you had to do was ask. Jealousy is a painful vice,” the tall one purred, snaking her arm around your shoulder. “And there’s no fee for adding a third…unpaid party.”

You could feel the heat flooding to your face, unable to even sputter in response to her offer.

A hand suddenly struck out between you and the woman, grabbing her wrist and gently removing it from your shoulder. Mizu glared at the woman, watching coldly as she shrunk away from you.

“You’re serious, huh?” the short woman smirked, nudging her coworker to step away from you. “Alright, love birds. Walk east to the Kamo River. Take the bridge to the temple with the thousand creepy statues. It's on the hill just past.”

Mizu’s head swiftly dipped into a bow, not looking up at you.

“I wish you a successful day of business,” she muttered, covering her face with her hand as she began raising her head up.

Interrupting her bow, however, was a loud crash from the puppet stand behind you. Looking at the show, or rather, what remained of it, revealed a portly young man standing above the wreckage. The same young man from the noodle shop.

“Hey, Mizu, isn’t that—”

“How much for one night?” she quickly asked, noting the price given to her.

“...How much for three.”

.

.

.

“Mizu,” you began, “would that man, by chance, be the person following us on our way here?”

“I didn’t think he’d get out of those ropes,” she groaned, walking across the expansive bridge.

“You tied him up?” you gawked, staring in shock at her nonchalant attitude.

“I could have killed him,” she pointed out, bringing a hand up to crack her neck. “I was merciful; he would have disrupted my quest.”

“And I don’t?”

“You provide a service.”

“Don’t make me sound like your pocket prostitute,” you half-heartedly teased.

Mizu sputtered, her collected facade briefly crumbling after hearing your words.

“I—ahm, hadn’t meant to imply—”

“Make way for Princess Akemi!” a voice rang out some distance behind you.

Traveling down the bridge from where you had just come was a gold accented palanquin being carried by an assortment of attendants. Those walking alongside you quickly made their way to the sides of the bridge, bowing before the royalty before them.

A tug on your sleeve by Mizu pulled you out of the way, standing beside her as the palanquin passed by you. Through the bars of the carrier you could see its passenger, the Princess Akemi, or so they announced. Perhaps you could have quipped about her status, the fact that she probably looked down on everyone around her. Or maybe her vanity, refusing to use her own feet to walk anywhere, relying on servants to carry her to and fro.

But a single glimpse of her face left you wordless—breathless. The makeup she wore only enhanced her best features, though it looked like all her features were her best. One look at Mizu confirmed you felt the same, her lips parting slightly as the palanquin continued down the bridge.

“She’s awfully pretty,” you sighed wistfully, watching the palanquin disappear into the city.

Mizu cleared her throat, regaining her wits, “Beautiful women can be found everywhere. It is our status that defines our beauty to the world.”

“It’s alright, Mizu,” you shrugged, “jealousy is a normal emotion, even for samurai.”

“I am not jealous,” she swiftly defended herself.

“Denial is an even worse look,” you sang, following her along the final stretch of bridge as you made your way up to the dojo.

It stood atop a hill just above the city, a single lone temple amidst a barren field it was laid upon. A lonely dojo, in your opinion, although the path to it was rather serene.

“If I have to walk up any more stairs, Mizu,” you groaned, approaching the temple, “we’re gonna have a problem.”

“Air your grievances now, then.” she curtly replied, moving to hit the door knockers. “Walking is only a small part of this journey.”

“Then why is it all we do?” you muttered, crossing your arms.

A small slit opened after a couple seconds, revealing the judgemental eyes of a man.

“No new students, find another school,” he barked, shutting the opening.

“Pretentious, aren’t they?” you snickered.

Mizu rolled her eyes and banged on the door again, the man appearing quickly.

“I’m not a student,” she said, annoyed, “but I do bring a message for the master of this place.”

The opening shut, only for one at the bottom to reveal itself, a hand sticking out expectantly.

“I must deliver it personally,” Mizu muttered, eyes narrowing.

The man vanished from the slit, shutting it behind him. Only a few moments passed between you and Mizu before the grand entrance began to slowly open, revealing the incredibly vast courtyard to you.

Mizu began walking forward to join the sentry, only for him to raise a hand towards you.

“Women are forbidden from entering the dojo,” he said solemnly, taking up a cold expression as he refused you entry.

You tightened your shoulders, standing straight and giving the man your best smile, tilting your head ever so slightly.

“Oh, sir, I must beseech you,” you pleaded, running up and clinging to his robes. “For he is my husband, and I would loathe to separate from him even for a single second! I fear what may happen to me if he were to disappear from my sight, for he is my protector, and I his perfect blossom. That is why I beg you, do not allow us to be apart!”

The sentry turned to Mizu for a response, raising an eyebrow.

She cleared her throat and you could immediately tell she would be giving you a dirty look if she had not been so surprised by your improvisation.

“...Yes, I would be most pleased if my wife were to accompany me. She is rather…frail and weak, and it would break my heart if anything were to happen to my…wife…” she said, her less than convincing acting leaning heavily on your own performance.

“Fine,” he grimaced, peeling you off. “But you are not permitted to speak in this place, keep your head down and your mouth shut.”

You smiled in response, walking over to join your ‘husband,’ looping your arm into his beneath his shawl, smirking internally at her pink-dusted face.

Arm in arm you walked up to the main room of the dojo, passing by different groups of men training. You could tell that Mizu was alert, noting each and every person you passed on your way to meet the head.

Upon entering the sweeping room, you kneeled beside Mizu, keeping your head bowed so as to not cause any disturbance during her negotiations. Though the man in front of you seemed unconcerned with your behavior, if interested in you at all.

“You may leave any message with me,” he spoke, not pausing his calligraphy.

“What must be said must be said to the master directly,” Mizu pressed.

“I assure you, what is for the master is for me,” he continued, “as I assure you the master does not meet with messengers.”

“He will for me.”

Her blatant disrespect caused the man to pause, setting his brush down and looking directly at her.

“​​You stand before the Shindo School.” He stood from his table. “For 200 years, we have taught here the Shindo-Ryu, secret methods passed down from Priest Soto, taught to him on the peak of Mount Kurama by the mystic Tengu themselves,” he snarled. “Show your respect!”

Mizu continued to stare at the floor, unaffected by the man’s long speech.

 “I must insist,” she said.

The man’s mouth pressed into a thin line, looking at the samurai standing behind you both.

“Escort them anywhere you please that is far from here,” he ordered.

One man, a part of the group that harassed you when you arrived in Kyoto, stepped forward and reached an arm out, “Come on, you blind beggar.”

“You are bound by hospitality to feed a traveler within your gate,” Mizu said hurriedly. “My wife and I came very far, and we’re very hungry. Or has the Shindo Dojo done away with etiquette?”

His lip curled in annoyance at Mizu’s demands, “Feed them,” he sneered, “then throw them out.

The samurai surged for your arms, dragging you down hallways and into a cramped storage room with a single barred window.

“Eat,” one said, chucking a bowl of rice (if you could even call it that) onto the small table, “then take your whore and get out.”

They laughed heartily at their insults, taking their leave and slamming the door shut behind them, leaving you and Mizu alone.

You chose to sit on top of a barrel while you waited, observing Mizu’s face as she watched the training going on outside, a tiny smile finding its way on her lips.

“Daydream all you want,” you spoke up, “but you’re the one who’s gonna have to come up with a plan.”

She broke away from her view, turning to look at you with a glint in her eye.

“I already have one.”

.

.

.

“Move it, you two,” the samurai ushered, pushing you forward as you walked through the turning halls.

Mizu stopped in her tracks, remaining still despite their threats.

“This will be much simpler if you allow me to speak with your master,” she said slowly, not bothering to look at them.

“Mizu,” you hissed, “don’t make this any more difficult.”

“You heard your wife, beggar boy. No one sees the master, least of all you.”

One stretched their hand out, aiming to grab your shoulder, only for Mizu to step in between the two of you.

“I cannot leave here until I speak to the master of this dojo,” she pressed as he attempted to dislodge her, unable to do so.

“Oh, good,” the men chuckled, drawing their swords. “We get to kill you.”

Mizu’s fingers extended, pointing her middle and index downwards. You smiled, giving a polite bow before continuing the path out of the dojo, arriving at the entrance to the main room. Stepping out into the thin snow and leaning against a pillar, you removed your inro, unpacking the supplies you might need after Mizu’s activities.

You could hear the events going on inside, a mixture of yelling and screaming, of rage and pain brewing within the fighters. Not a peep from Mizu, however. Soon enough, the old samurai from earlier—perhaps he was second in command, though you didn’t exactly care—came running outside, nose bleeding and with a nasty mark spanning diagonally across his face. It seemed that Mizu was getting excited.

“See you later, samurai,” you cooed as he sprinted out of the dojo and through the gates, leaving you alone to laugh at his cowardice.

You hadn’t expected him to return, however.

Entering through the wide open gates, followed by the older man, was a much younger one. He wore a green kimono decorated with the symbol of the dojo, hair tied back into a tall bun with stray pieces framing his face.

“You come to fight, pretty boy?” you teased as he approached, still fiddling with your supplies.

He scoffed, raising an eyebrow at your words, “You? I was told—”

“Inside, dumbass. Does it look like I’m a warrior?” you sneered, rejoining your inro to your obi.

The old man’s eyes widened at your disrespect, “How dare you, a woman—!”

“You got your ass kicked by some country boy. Come back and correct my attitude after you’ve killed him, you shitty old man.”

It seemed impossible for his eyes to get even bigger, but after your words they seemed to be the size of plates.

He attempted to march up to you, only to be stopped by the young man.

“We can deal with this after the samurai is dealt with,” he reasoned, giving you a dirty look.

You laughed to yourself as they entered the dojo, leaving you alone outside once again.

The familiar sounds of fighting broke out shortly after the man’s entrance, joined in harmony by the harsh sounds of breaking wood, undoubtedly caused by Mizu’s quirk of using the environment around her to fight. It was fun to watch, until you had to pay the bill for a duel inside an inn. 

Eventually, the noises began to grow louder—no, closer. You caught a glimpse of the chaotic symphony as Mizu and her enemy, the young man from before, fought their way into the main room. Before you could even blink, Mizu had been thrown across the room, a wooden sword hurled right at her. 

“With a naked blade,” he scoffed, “you’d be dead.”

You immediately stood up and ran towards her, picking up her fallen glasses as you made your way over. She brushed you aside, however, turning her neck to look at the young man, not bothering to shield her eyes. 

A small gasp left him, his cocky demeanor quickly vanishing the moment he laid saw her.

“You had a name for me,” she stated, rising to her feet.

“Taigen, you cannot allow that to dishonor us or you,” the old man commanded, fuming at Mizu. “Kill him.”

The battle quickly changed to a formal duel as the two young samurai made their way outside to take the other’s life. You followed Mizu, standing a fair distance behind her to give her space to butcher the man. Taigen, or so he was called.

He drew his weapon first, discarding the sheath onto the fresh snow below and pointing it directly at Mizu.

“Are you afraid to fight with steel?” he asked, brows furrowed in determination.

You snorted at his comment.

Mizu just chuckled softly, “Thank you,” she said with a smile. “No one has yet deserved my blade.”

She slowly removed her sword from her sheath, drawing the magnificently crafted blade and wielding it with two hands, taking a stance before Taigen.

“You have a blade by Master Eiji?” he gawked, only serving to change Mizu’s smile to a snide grin.

A tense moment was shared between the two, and all you could do was stand by and watch. You knew Mizu was smart, least of all capable. She wouldn’t throw her life away in some stupid duel, not when she still hadn’t gotten her revenge. This was just a simple stop on the way, something to remind her of what was at stake.

Mizu wouldn’t lose, not here.

Taigen was first to act, running up to Mizu with his sword at his side, prepared to strike. She reacted unusually, however, breaking in a crouch and swinging her sword at the ground, kicking up a flurry of snow. Taigen hardly faltered, only spinning around to avoid blinding himself and swung his sword across to hit Mizu. His maneuver was a short-lived victory, as Mizu ran her sword beneath him, the blades moving across one another and letting sparks fly. 

Mizu had made the first wound, slicing a shallow cut into Taigen’s neck, crimson drops of blood blotting the pure white snow beneath them.

The next strikes were harsh, as Taigen hadn’t so much as flinched at his injury, striking with the same vigor he had before. Despite Mizu’s skills, Taigen found a hole in her defense, using his strength to his advantage to press his sword into her shoulder and throw her to the ground, knocking her blade away.

You felt your body grow cold as Taigen stomped over to Mizu, angling his sword to her neck. Was it really going to end like this? All that traveling, killing, and plotting, just for Mizu to die at the hand of some low life samurai?

“Death comes for everyone,” Taigen spat, bringing the blade closer to her. “For you, today.”

He turned around and gave a nod to his fellow samurai behind him, giving Mizu one final look before sending a hard kick into her chest as a final blow to her and her ego.

You attempted to rush to her side, only to receive a scowl from Mizu, stopping you in your tracks. From your current viewpoint, she looked relatively uninjured, at least nothing terribly deep. She was clutching her shoulder, but the cut looked shallow. The doctor inside begged you to ignore her scornful face and help her, to put your work to good use, though you knew her anger would be twofold what it was if you were to intervene.

You watched intently as she brushed a fistful of snow across her face and swept her lingering strand of hair out of the way, those sapphire eyes shining with anger as they shot open.

She reached for her arms, pulling a string and releasing the weights that had been wrapped around her forearms. Repeating the action to the other arm, as well as her ankles, Mizu made eye contact with Taigen who turned around to witness her revitalization.

Reaching for her sword with lightning fast reflexes, she charged towards Taigen and side-stepped his attack, disarming him without a second thought and dealing a brutal slice to his calf. Disoriented and in pain, Taigen was easily lifted and tossed, skidding across the snow and meeting the edge of Mizu’s blade.

The two were panting heavily from exhaustion, whereas you were releasing a breath you’d been holding for the past minute. Mizu had bested her opponent and lived, earning you another day of employment.

“Stop!” a strong voice bellowed, their cry echoing across the courtyard of the dojo.

Your eyes darted to the new figure, one dressed more elegantly than his fellow samurai, a dark kataginu worn over top of his burnt orange kimono.

Mizu joined you in gazing at the man, still out of breath, “You, are the master of this school?” she panted.

He gave an affirmative hum.

“Your students need better training,” she quipped, withdrawing her blade from Taigen’s throat.

“You have a message for me,” he said, the command of a leader in his voice.

“A question,” she corrected, putting strong emphasis on her next words. “Where may I find your brother, the black market merchant Heiji Shindo?”

You felt your eyes go wide at her words, unknowing of her plan during your travels to Kyoto. All this? Just for the name of another man? You had to clench your teeth in order to stop yourself from interrupting their conversation.

The man was just as shocked as you, a myriad of expressions moving across his face all at once, finally arriving to dwell in his voice as he spoke, “You did all this to find my brother? Why?”

Mizu’s blade returned to Taigen’s throat, a silent threat to prevent any more prying questions.

Clearing his throat, he answered with an air of mustered strength, “Heiji Shindo is in the fortress on Tanabe Island, protected by the Genken Clan,” he said, beginning to narrow his eyes. “Whatever business you have with him, you will never reach him.”

Without another word, Mizu sheathed her sword and gave a mockingly polite bow to the head before walking to your side. 

“You're still…a dog.” Taigen groaned, attempting to gain his bearings from the ground.

Helpless and unwilling to stop Mizu’s righteous anger, you simply watched as she whipped around and slid across the ground, not even bothering to unsheath her sword for an unworthy opponent such as Taigen. The blade made its purchase, swinging just inches above his head and decapitating his top knot with the talent and skill of an unrivaled barber.

His golden hairpiece clattered to the earth, softened by the lingering snow it landed upon. Mizu scooped it up and tucked it into her shirt, continuing her pace without sparing a look towards the countless wounded samurai behind her.

The glimmering hairpiece was tossed into your hands as Mizu walked past you, stepping past the towering gates with you in tow, finally making your exit from the dojo she had undoubtedly made a fool of.

.

.

.

“Heiji Shindo, huh?” you said, breaking the silence as you both descended the path down the hill. “Can we buy horses this time around?”

“No,” she immediately responded, “we need to be careful, at least while leaving this city. I have made enemies of many men here.”

“Well, I’m assuming you’ve fully removed their ability to ride a horse, though I don’t really care to hear how you did it…” you trailed off, trying your best to not imagine the horrors Mizu inflicted on those pitiable samurai. “Could we buy horses in the next city? We’ll be farther by then, putting more distance if there are people after us.”

“If you can afford it, then we can buy two. Until then, we walk.”

“Two? Why, my dear husband, we only need to buy one!” you sang, reveling in the way Mizu’s body briefly froze up at the intimate word. “Unless you want your useless, obedient wife to ride alone.”

“...I have no comment for your unending teasing,” she finally replied, crossing her arms.

“If you want to see teasing, you should turn around.” You finished securing her conical hat to your head, tying the last knot just as Mizu turned around to see you, letting you see the newly-formed pout on her rosy face as she saw you in her hat.

“Enough,” she ordered, stopping in front of you to reclaim her headgear, standing at least two heads above you.

“I think it suits me,” you whined while copying her pout, unable to stop her from reclaiming her hat.

She adjusted her hat and quickly tied it beneath her chin, continuing the walk through the cold, empty streets of Kyoto. The wind had kicked up since your time at the dojo, blowing harshly through the streets and depositing snow onto the roofs above. It made you wish you held onto Mizu’s hat for just a little longer, if only to escape the snow falling into your hair.

The gates at the front of the city opened for your exit, letting you step out onto the path leading into the forest. You stopped, however, noticing the mother and daughter from earlier, from when you first arrived in Kyoto. They were freezing, icy puffs of air pulled from their lips as they huddled close together for warmth. Your heart tugged towards them, clenching your fists in a moment of helplessness. The hairpiece gently pricked the walm of your hand as you squeezed, and you reopened it, looking at the expensive decoration and dropping it near their huddled forms.

You did your best to remain quiet as you walked away and down the path, into the sparse woods alongside Mizu. The trees did not grow in number as you walked, only growing in age, becoming thicker and taller, framing the night sky above. Mizu stopped in the middle of a clearing, causing you to stop behind her, trying to give her some space. You could tell she was looking up to the cloudy sky, and although you could hear her mumbling, you couldn’t catch the words in full.

You were, however, able to catch the familiar red droplets of blood that landed and melted into the snow below, reminding you of Mizu’s forgotten shoulder wound.

“You couldn’t have reminded me?” you hissed, stomping over and throwing her arm across your shoulder, which she brushed off.

“It’s my arm, not my leg,” she reasoned.

“If you didn’t want me to play doctor, you shouldn’t have brought me.”

“You brought yourself,” she snorted, turning her head in a different direction. “There’s a hot spring that way, you can ‘play doctor’ when we get there.”

You rolled your eyes, following her as you made your way to the hot spring. It was more impressive than you thought, multiple spouts of water differing in intensity spilling into the warm pool below, life barely blooming amidst the freezing conditions surrounding it.

Mizu began removing her accessories while you removed your inro, gathering your needed supplies to care for her wound.

“You need help with your bandages?” you asked, gesturing to her chest.

“I’ve got it,” she said, giving one last look around before letting her hair down.

She slowly removed her clothes, unwinding the bandages that bound her chest tightly. You did your best not to look, giving her much needed privacy as you began to undress yourself, folding your kimono nicely and resting your inro on top.

“Mind if I take a look at it, Mizu?” you politely requested, sinking your body into the warm spring. 

Mizu hummed, joining you into the water. Her body wasn’t entirely covered by the water from where she was standing—as well as her height, leaving her to stand awkwardly as you inspected her wound. It was both worse than you thought and better than you expected, long but not deep. The wrapping would be awkward, but infection wouldn’t be a worry, especially after this short bath.

It took all the strength you had to keep your eyes trained on her upper chest, though, luckily, her lower chest was being covered by her arms. Her very strong arms, that is. Her whole body was a surprising wonder, no doubt in part due to her constant wearing of those weights. She was able to throw Taigen a fair distance, she could probably pick you up with no problem. No problem at all…

“...You alright down there?” Mizu interrupted your thoughts, and immediately you could feel your face heating up.

“Yeah, ah—I can take care of it afterwards, just try and clean it out a little bit,” you stammered, moving further into the water.

Her gaze lingered on you for a moment more before she moved closer to one of the low water falls, climbing atop the stone beneath for some brief meditation.

You spent your alone time cleaning up, rubbing off any dirt and deep cleaning your hair, the buildup of grease and who knows what else disappearing into the water below, leaving you to grab your needle and thread from your inro.

“I’m ready when you are, Mizu,” you called out, waving your needle for her to see.

She begrudgingly moved to the side by you, biting her lip as you gently applied the stinging ointment to her wound. You’d done this song and dance with her before, and as time went on Mizu had grown used to the bite of your medicine, her howls and cries dying with each new injury.

“Need something to bite on?” you asked before continuing your work.

“I’ll be fine,” she exhaled, shutting her eyes tight.

And so you began, weaving the needle in and out of her wound, carefully pulling it closed and tying the string off.

“Alright, good as new” you muttered, cutting the string. “Don’t touch, don’t scratch, don’t—”

“Not our first time, I know the drill,” she chuckled.

“Well, feel free to relax now,” you sighed, slouching down into the water and shutting your eyes in bliss. 

You enjoyed the time you had in the spring before leaving, reveling in the brief relaxation. Your eyes remained shut while you laid down, hearing her eventually join you in laying down. 

Loud footsteps caused your eyes to shoot open, and you saw that Mizu had already risen from the water, rushing to the ground and grabbing her sword. You scrambled for your kimono, searching for the small dagger tucked on the inside, planning to defend yourself, or worse if the situation called for it.

The figure stumbled through the shadows and into the clearing, meeting Mizu head on and shrieking loudly. You peaked from the spring, seeing Mizu pointing her blade and Ringo, the noodle maker’s son from long ago. He tilted his head, staring with wide eyes at Mizu and finally landing on your frightened expression.

“...Peaches?”

The dojo master prostrated himself before the man seated in the opulent chair, the dimly lit room illuminated only by the moonlit and roaring fireplace.

“Forgive me for giving your location, my brother. He was unstoppable,” he apologized, slowly rising into an upward kneel as his voice began to trail off. “He defeated my every student…” 

The man released a displeased hum, “Your students need better training,” he sneered, turning his head to the old face that walked in.

“The samurai, he's not human,” the old man—Hachiman—said, a mix of fury and bewilderment crossing his face as he recollected. “I saw its eyes.”

“A lone samurai, then?” the man asked, flickering his gaze between the two men before him.

“He had a companion,” the brother spoke, raising his head. “She had no weapon nor joined his fighting.”

The man scoffed, resting his chin on the palm of his hand, “So, a lone samurai with a useless woman.”

“The Four Fangs,” a rich, yet rough, accented voice spoke up, clearly bored by the conversation taking place right next to him. “Send the Four Fangs after this samurai and his girl.”

He grabbed an apple and twirled in between his fingers, “Double their price and be done with it.”

A sickening grin formed on the man’s face as he took in his companion’s words, rising from his chair as he left to distribute orders.

Alone in the room, the Irishman stared at his reflection in the apple, tilting his head as he questioned aloud.

“I wonder, lonesome samurai,” he cooed, taking a bite of the fruit, “why carry a whore ‘round with you when you have so much to lose?”

He tossed the unfinished remains of the apple behind him, turning his head to the window beside him.

“Ah, who gives a shit,” he laughed, snatching another apple. “They’ll both die anyways.”

#mizu x reader #mizu x you #blue eye samurai #mizu blue eye samurai #taigen blue eye samurai #akemi blue eye samurai #ringo blue eye samurai #heiji shindo blue eye samurai #abijah fowler blue eye samurai #bes mizu #mizu #reader insert #series

[luffyrose]

Mistaken - DC x DP

Idk man- this one fully just came to me. So have fun. Cry.

~~~~~~

Another rogue attack.

Bats coming to save the day.

It was a never-ending dance between the two.

Casualties were often low. People got hurt but fewer and fewer people died. Even major injuries had lessened over the years. It wasn't the focus of the villains to necessarily kill people, it was simply a byproduct of their goal.

So why was it different?

Why now?

Sure, Gotham's rogues weren't afraid to kill to gain attention, but this was different. The attack came from nowhere, no sign of it before it had already begun, and when Batman arrived...there was no villain there. Just the destruction in its wake.

He'd been quick to call the others for help searching for injured, and no doubt dead from the destruction, before getting to pulling people from rubble and fires. His kids arrived and did the same until another call came from Oracle. The fire department and ambulances had arrived, so they left it to them.

It had already been nearing the day, so when they finished dealing with some goons, the family had turned in for the night. Yet Bruce couldn't stop thinking about the explosion. The camera's from the building, he'd learned it was a lab of some sort, were far and few, really only showing the entrance. Even then they cut out before the explosion.

The news was talking of it, the owner of the lab was on it by now claiming it was an accident with some chemicals and they were investigating possible causes. He knew it was a lie, and from his children's faces when they heard it, they thought the same.

It didn't take him long to head there, not as Batman, but as Bruce Wayne.

He had planned to speak to the owner of the Lab, he really only remembered he wore a pristine white suit. Parking nearby, and offering help to those he saw as he passed, Bruce slowly made his way toward the main part of the crowd.

A quiet sob and cough made him freeze in his tracks. It was so quiet he doubted anyone would have noticed if they weren't trained. Glancing around, he slipped into the alleyway he'd heard the noise from. It was close to he accident, but far enough away no one would look down it...so why was someone here?

Bruce cautiously looked through the alley, his gaze hardening as he found a smaller figure curled up on itself, trying to hide behind a dumpster.

"Hello?"

The kid, because it really could only be a kid, flinched eyes darting toward him.

And Bruce froze.

Green eyes were staring back at him. Glowing, Lazarus, green eyes. Yet, his eyes were quick to drift from the color to the blood soaking the boy's clothes. Gritting his teeth, he crouched, holding up his hands. He couldn't see the boy well with this distance, but he couldn't risk not finding a way to help the kid.

"I'm not gonna hurt you...I promise."

The glow fluctuated for a moment before the other tried to move, wincing harshly as his arm gave out and sent him careening into the floor. Bruce had moved forward when he fell, worry clear on his face, and when the boy growled, only for it to fade into a whimper, he paused again.

"Let me help you. I can get you to a hosp-"

Panic filled the other's eyes, scrambling further away. "No! No, hospital. No, no, no no nononono-" Bruce kept his face from changing at the boy's voice. It was hoarse as if he hadn't used it or had been screaming.

Putting his hands up placatingly, he carefully shifted on his feet. "Okay. No hospital. But you need help...can I help you?" The boy seemed to be looking for something in his face, maybe a lie, but after a few moments, the kid's head bobbed before he collapsed onto the ground completely.

Taking the moment, Bruce moved beside him, careful not to touch him as he pulled out his phone, messaging Dick and Leslie. She would need to prep for some stitches no doubt from the blood, and he definitely couldn't get the boy elsewhere without some help. As he finished sending the messages, he felt a hand grab onto him weakly. Looking down at the boy, his heart absolutely sunk.

He could see him now. How his black hair fell over his eyes. Blue eyes. The green was temporary, probably powers, but now with those blue eyes, he looked like one of his many children. More specifically...a younger Jason. His heart clenched, gently taking the boy's hand despite himself.

This wasn't Jason...it wasn't.

It was clear the boy had started to grow delirious, his eyes unfocused for the most part, but staring so intently at him.

"...dad...?"

Oh.

Bruce could hear the harsh swallow he did, but smiled softly at the boy. Carefully sitting, he dragged the boy onto his lap, gently moving his hair. "You're gonna be alright..." It wasn't Jason, and he knew that...but that didn't mean he couldn't comfort the boy. If he happened to look like his father...Bruce wasn't going to try and correct him when he was so delirious, not when it may give him some kind of comfort.

He couldn't help the pain in his heart though as the kid practically melted into the touch, unfurling slightly and revealing some of his injuries. It wasn't his kid. It wasn't.

Maybe he could have comforted any of them like this if he'd listened in the past.

Shaking his head, he pushed down the feelings. He couldn't focus on that, not right now. Looking back at his phone, he saw a message, saying Dick was almost there. Part of him hoped he was alone...he knew that probably wasn't the case.

"I'm scared..."

Gazing back toward the kid, he put the phone back in his pocket. Putting his hand on the boy's cheek, he gently rubbed away some tears that had begun to fall. Before he could respond the boy's eyes drooped the little consciousness he had fading. "Hey, come on, try to stay awake." It was no use as the boy drifted off, only the too-slow rising and falling of his chest assuring Bruce he wasn't fully gone.

"Kid, come on you can't sleep yet-"

Two pairs of footsteps came from the entrance of the alley as Bruce tried to wake the boy, glancing back to see his oldest boys. What was slight, but worried, amusement turned to horror the closer they got, seeing the pool of blood. "Leslie is waiting." Without needing to say anything else, Dick was quick to carefully scoop the kid up, looking back to Jason. He seemed shell-shocked, staring at the boy. Bruce couldn't blame him.

They looked so similar.

~|0|~

Danny had...what had he been doing? He remembered the GIW, and lab equipment-

Oh.

The lab.

He had gotten out...but someone had seen him. Where was he now? Fighting to open his eyes, he saw the ceiling of a car. He could also see two older guys. He was in the back seat with his head...on someone's lap? Or was it a ghost? They felt like a ghost...but not.

Frowning, his eyes slowly drifted shut again. He'd thought he'd seen his dad...but, the man had been too kind. His- Jack was...he wouldn't have ever comforted him like that. Not now. Not in the past. Feeling himself drift off again, he felt small tears fall down his cheeks.

Why had his dad never comforted him like this stranger had? Why had he hurt him? Given him to the GIW after he'd told them what he was? If they truly hadn't believed him...if they had thought he was mimicking "their beloved son" then why not do everything they always said they would.

More tears fell, but he felt someone wipe them away again. It was a different hand...it was still rough, but gentler than the other had been. With a stuttered breath, Danny let the darkness take over his mind again. He probably wouldn't have let himself fall asleep again...but he would rather these people who reminded him of his family have him. Hurt him or not...he just didn't want to be alone.

A hum was the last thing he felt, a warmth he couldn't remember having in a long long time rumbling beneath his skin.

~|0|~

Jason had felt something when he'd seen the kid. The pits went quiet before pure worry erupted from them. He didn't know why...but it didn't help that this kid look like him. Looked like that little kid who'd never gotten help.

It didn't help that deep down Jason knew that this kid hadn't either.

He'd ended up carefully cradling his head in the back seats while Dick drove and Bruce messaged who he could only assume was Leslie or the family group chat. Either way, when he felt something wet land on his hand, he hadn't expected the kid to be crying.

Gently wiping the tears, he felt the frown on his face grow. "He's crying." He heard Bruce shifting, probably looking at the two, yet he ignored the other, just wiping the small tears. As he did, a warbling cry made him jump slightly. Glancing toward the other two, he saw the shock on both their faces.

"Well, he's definitely some kind of meta."

Bruce hummed, but Jason simply looked down again. The pit was silent for a moment, the non-stop worry having paused at the noise. So when a rumbling almost purr-like hum came from himself, he almost froze. Almost. His shock had been overrun by how the kid seemed to relax, one of his hands gently grabbing onto him.

"That...that was new."

He didn't need to look to know the two were even more shocked, if not worried. Jason couldn't bring himself to care for once, wiping the last of the falling tears before running his fingers through the fluffy and bloody locks of their mysterious meta-kid.

He wasn't a meta...he knew that deep down as well.

It didn't take long after for them to get to Leslie's clinic, taking the boy inside in a rush. He was quickly moved onto a stretcher and taken into one of the more medically equipped rooms. The three weren't far behind, entering the room as Leslie worked on removing the bloodied clothes, mainly his shirt.

A large y-shaped and inflamed gash met all of their eyes. It wasn't the cause of the bleeding, but it clearly had been done not too long before the large gash next to it. They weren't the only injuries he had, and he'd had plenty if the scars were to say anything. The most concerning was a Lichtenberg scar that stretched from his hand across his entire chest.

None of them had been ready for it. Dick covered his mouth as Jason audibly took a deep breath. Bruce was silent, but from the stare, they knew he was just as horrified.

Leslie was equally as horrified to find a child in the condition he was in, but gritted her teeth and got to work. It took a long time, but the boy didn't stir. She and the others had checked his vitals multiple times just to make sure he was still fine. He was...if the low heartbeat and temperature were normal. The temperature probably was to an extent at least, they'd figured that out after a frost had covered the bed he was on.

Finally, his injuries were stitched, but as Leslie left to get everything he would need the boy bolted upright.

His breathing was heavy, flinging himself out of the bed and into a corner. Jason reacted the fastest, getting over to him and enveloping him in a hug. It was definitely not the right thing you're supposed to do, but he'd done it before he'd even thought about it.

And when the boy's arms tightly wrapped around him, a loud echoey sob being muffled against his jacket he knew it had been the right instinct.

Neither let go nor did they move.

Dick came over, carefully sitting beside them and hugging them both, taking a moment to wipe a tear that had fallen from Jason's face...when had that happened?

With a quiet click of a door opening and closing, Jason buried his head into the younger black-haired boy's head. Leslie wouldn't have had silent footsteps. Bruce had left the room. He didn't know whether he was thankful or not for that. From the brief information, he'd told them, the kid thought Bruce was his dad.

"...I'm sorry..."

Shaking his head slightly, not bothering to lift it, Jason rubbed the other's back.

"Nothin' to be sorry for. You're alive."

Another rumble noise escaped him, but he couldn't bring himself to worry and wonder about it yet again as the kid clung tighter, a similar yet much sadder noise coming from him.

Both could feel the short breath of a small laugh from Dick, who still held them both.

"You both sound like birds, your nicknames pretty fitting now, Jaybird."

A laugh came from the boy, slightly startling the older two. But, it was a welcome sound, the rest of the tense air finally fading.

After a bit of silence, the kid spoke again.

"I think I called your dad my dad."

Jason couldn't help the smirk that grew on his face.

"Just sounds like you're the next sibling to be adopted."

"New baby bird!"

Danny was both incredibly confused and...pleasantly surprised by their words. He knew for a fact they'd seen his powers at some point. But then again, the one he was clinging to, Jaybird if the guy's nickname was to be used, wasn't entirely alive either.

"Honestly I should apologize for thinking he was my dad...he's probably worse."

Jason snorted out a laugh. He probably shouldn't, but damn if the kid with the scars all across his body said it, he was probably right. Dick made the noise he does whenever Jay makes a joke about his death, only causing the kid to look over.

"What, it's a very grave mistake."

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dc #dc comics #danny phantom #danny fenton #bruce wayne #batman #dick grayson #jason todd #batfam #batfamily #fic #ficlet #fanfic #fanfiction #I meant to make the end angstier #but I got dragged off to have dinner for my sister's birthday and completely forgot what it was #so you get off with some lighter jokes though heavily implied trauma that needs to be dealt with but probably won't #Bruce was really trying his best here but he is still only just getting better with talking #and Dick doesn't know whether to be alarmed happy or cry at the puns #they're puns! but they're death puns D: #Jason knows this kid is kinda dead like him though still different #he just don't wanna admit it

[prowlingz]

- Sticky Situation -

smut (cuck?? Idk read the summary 😭) 18+

MW2 | Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Laswell.

I’m from Germany and only just learned English, so please don’t be upset at any grammatical errors!

Summary: You are the perfect person for the job: seduce ‘Mark Ruffolo’ better known as ‘Mr. M’. You need to distract him long enough for team 141 to infiltrate the building, take down any guards in the way - and capture Mr. M alive. Thing is, his guards check on him periodically (every 15 or so minutes), and the only way he won’t is if someone is in need of his full attention and he doesn’t want to be bothered. Price had the room rigged with cameras so they can be sure the plan is in action; but a few members get insanely jealous watching another man touch you..

————————————————————————

“This is going to be so fucking ridiculous” you say, your face growing ever redder.

You look up to meet Laswell’s gaze, she looks deeply saddened by this predicament.

“You don’t have to sleep with him, just..” she pauses, unsure of what to say next. “Keep him.. occupied” she finished sternly.

The tension in the room is thick. No one is comfortable sending you into this situation, especially seeing fear in your eyes.

“We are going to send a.. what? 22 year old, new member into some perverts playhouse? What a damn welcome..” Gaz says to Laswell, he furrows his eyebrows.

He’s right. You only joined 141 two months ago after being recommended due to your skills as an agile sniper.

“Look: it wasn’t my decision. Unless any of you boys want to get all dolled up for the pervert?” she says, clearly frustrated as she’s had to say multiple times now that it wasn’t her call, and to not get mad at her over it.

Silence fills the room. Everyone looks uncomfortable, and most of them take pity glances at you. You bite your bottom lip and keep your gaze down.

You know what you have to do.

————————————————————————

The ride there was silent. Plan is, Soap will wear a guard’s outfit and bring you to the front gate as an “escaped whore”, where you’ll be taken up to the man..hopefully.

This plan definitely left a lot of room for improvement, but there was little time, and the mood seemed solemn.

“I..” you begin to speak, not even knowing what to say but knowing you should say something. Before you can get another word out, you find yourself there.

You were wearing a short white ruffled dress, no shoes. This apparently was what Mr. M’s ‘whores’ would wear.

No one said a word as you stepped out, all keeping their heads down. Soap grabbed your wrist tightly to make it seem he was dragging you back like a dog.

“Does this hurt?” he says, looking down at you.

“I don’t mind it” you say in response. “Let’s just get this over with”

You both make your way to the front gate, where two guards point guns at you, and lower once they realize a ‘guard’ is with you.

“Found this whore trying to escape. Thought I’d bring her back for a punishment” he clearly hated every word of the sentence, and his grip on you tightened right before he has to let you go.

You don’t turn back to say goodbye, instead, you obediently get pushed around by one of the guards up to Mr. M.

You track mud throughout the building. You’re totally alone. You have no one to rely on if shit hits the fan other than your own skills. You reassure yourself they wouldn’t have sent you in if they knew the danger was way too risky.. right? You think back to 141’s solemn faces: they looked defeated before we even began.

Lost in thought, but still being dragged by the guard, you get snapped out of your headspace by a knock on the large door in front of you.

“Come in”, you hear a husky voice respond to the knock.

You step into the room.. well.. you’re thrown into it basically, but catch yourself. The guard turns on his heel and leaves. You were dumped like trash.

“What do we have here?”

You turn, and make eye contact with a tall man. You never thought Mr. M would be so young, attractive and..tall. Even though the ceiling was likely 30 feet high, it still feels like he could touch it. He was likely 6’7”, had bright blond hair and cold blue eyes. They reminded you of Soap’s eyes, how you could get lost in them for hours. Mr. M’s hair was so similar to Ghost’s, it almost made you laugh. But instead, you were quickly knocked right back into reality when you remembered your situation.

You knew that 141 was watching from the cameras, which to you were quite easily spotted due to your intensive training and excellent eyesight as a sniper.

“S-sir” you say sheepishly, making eye contact with the man.

He examines you. All of you.

You stand there, not moving a muscle.

Before you can open your mouth for another word, he picks you up like it’s nothing, or.. more like you’re nothing. He treats you like an object at disposal.

He takes you over to his desk and has you straddling him. You don’t know what to do with your hands, until he moves them to your breasts.

“Hmm..such a good girl” he hums. Praise from any man is enough to undue you, but this man is super fucking hot too.

You let out the slightest whimper to his praise, which he caught immediately. You continue staring at the marble floor to your right, and your face grows ever so redder.

“What is your name?” he asks.

You make eye contact with him. His cold gaze is piercing you.

Paranoia fills you. ‘Shit. SHIT. He knows. He knows..’ is all you keep thinking, not even able to understand his question.

“Do you not know English? Wie heißen Sie? (What is your name?)” he gives you a confused look and pouts his lips.

You know German, but never discussed this with 141. You respond to his question either way.

“My name is y/n” you say sheepishly.

He hums in your response.

“Such a pretty name for a pretty little girl like yourself” he chuckles.

You accidentally loosen yourself and drop a little into his groin. He lets out a slight groan at this and takes your hands, placing them on his shoulders for you. He moves his hands down to your waist and pushes you further onto his clothed erection. He groans even louder this time.

“Fuck..” he puts out.

IN THE 141 VAN

“That mother fucker.. I’m going to kill him” Soap says, staring at the glowing monitor of all the different angles Mr. M is touching you.

His hands move off of your hips and slides down to touch your ass.

Jaws lock in the car, gritting of teeth. The only rational one right now is Price.

“When can we get this fucker?” Ghost speaks out, though it wasn’t really a question, more of a statement.

“As soon as he turns off his radio, he will have no communication to anything outside of the room” Price responds, he doesn’t even look at the monitor, only listens.

You were told to ask his name, since not a lot of people know it, especially not girls he kidnapped off the street or bought from sex trafficking. It’d be suspicious not to ask him.

“What’s.. what’s your name?” you ask looking at him.

He hums.

“You can call me Mark for our session, if that’s okay with you, princess?” you haven’t felt this kind of touch in months, even if it is from some pervert.. it feels.. nice?

He plays with your ass before bringing his hands up to your hip, leaning in and leeching on your neck.

“Let me mark what’s mine..” he says, continuing to bite on your neck.

You can’t help but let out a little moan. Your hands grip onto his shoulders and you press yourself further onto him.

“Ah..such a needy little girl, are we? Hmm?” he chimes.

It feels too good to disagree.

Your response is pushing harder onto his twitching erection and rubbing your clit with his clothed tip. You let out a slight moan at the contact.

“I bet you’d feel so fucking good taking all of me..” he can’t help but say.

You are enjoying this, but know the real goal here is the radio. If you’re caught turning it off, then you know the mission is over, and possibly your life too.

Just then, a knock at his door.

He stops kissing onto your neck, and cranes his head towards the door, grabbing his radio.

“What the fuck is it? I’m busy” his radio hisses.

The static noise on the radio is starting to piss him off.

“Don’t fucking knock on my door or bother me for the next hour” he turns the radio to ‘of’.

You get so excited, but try not to show it.

He looks back at you, noticing something is off.

“What’s wrong, hun?”

You look at him.

“I’m just.. nervous.. it’s my first time” you think of on the spot.

His eyes light up. He looks down at your body even more satiable than before. He lifts your dress up, revealing your white panties with a beautiful lace around the hem.

You shift your weight.

Before you know it, he’s lifting you off his chair to take off your panties. He shoves them into his dress pants before admiring you. Your slick drooling all over his clothed erection..

“Fuck.. you’re so needy for me, aren’t you?”

You watch him move his hands from your thigh, to his left one grabbing your ass and the right one immediately rubbing circles on your clit.

You fall down onto him, you forgot how good it felt to be touched like this.

He groans and you can see his dick twitching through his pants. “You are so fucking wet..” his fingers trace your nerdy hole, spreading it with to fingers.

You moan, and muffle it by leaning into his shoulders and arching your back onto his fingers. You know damn well what you’re doing.

You can’t imagine what your teammates are thinking at the moment.. I mean.. they knew this is what you were getting into, right? Who told them they had to watch?

Before you can even think, he throws you onto the desk in front of him.

You’re shocked, but remember not to let your reflexes hinder this. You still are wearing the dress, which isn’t allowed. He rips it off of you and starts swirling his tongue onto your left nipple.

He presses his erection against your leaking pussy and palms himself. He moves over to the right nipple and you tug on his hair.

Now the thought of your team watching you get ravaged like this was sort of a turn on. You never thought you’d find yourself enjoying something like this so much. You look to your right and make eye contact with one of the cameras. Hoping that they were still watching, you let a smile out as you moaned from his touch.

His stops contact, clearly very out of breath and flustered himself. He looks down at your dripping pussy, now red nipples after his abuse, and the hickeys formed on your neck.

He pulls off his belt, then pulls his pants off. He slides off his briefs and springs out a huge cock. Maybe 2 inches thick and 7 inches tall. His tip pulsates and is leaking pre cum all over.

He uses one hand and grabs your waist.

God.. you were hoping those boys were taking their sweet time. You didn’t want this day to ever end.

With his other hand, he slides his tip along your slit, making sticky noises..

You can’t help but buck your hips up to him, and he obliges in your request. He slowly sinks his tip inside of you. You scream in pain and pleasure from his shear size, and you’re not even 2 inches deep. He is stretching you out so well..

“You like when I stretch you out like this? Your little pussy feels so..” he groans as he pushes himself deeper “…good. So good.. such a good girl, all to me..” he keeps praising. You can’t even think straight as he pushes himself deeper into you.

Without any warning, he slams himself fully into you.

You can feel yourself stretched out and plead “a-ah! Please..ah..fuck..”

He doesn’t respond to your pleas, instead ramming himself deeper into you with every second going by making you reach your end..

You begin whining “please..PlEasE.. I’m going to cum..please” but your begs fall on silent ears.

He continues and before you know it, you reach your climax. Your walls tightly squeezing across him, and you feel him empty his hot liquid into you.

As he pulls out, an audible *POP* is heard. His eyes widen, you both try and catch your breath. You watch the cum seep out of you, when you begin seeing blood.

“I must’ve stretched you a little too good, hmm agent?” It took you a minute to register what he has said, before you look up at him and see a sly smile on his face.

“W-what..?” You respond.. did he know? Your heart, already beating fast begins to beat faster and faster.

“Let’s get you cleaned up!” He looks over at the same camera you were smiling at just minutes ago. “I hope you boys enjoyed the show!”. He picks you up. Your legs weak and drops you into a warm bath. He wraps himself into a towel and drags a chair over by the tub.

“How did..” you begin to speak.

“It was quite obvious. None of my girls are as stunning as you, and..” he grabs your right arm.

“They are branded by numbers. You don’t have one” he states the obvious.

“What about.. the cameras?” You say, dumbfounded and a bit fearful for your life.

He looks at you, still smiling. “Oh I found those weeks ago. Figured something was coming, and knew it immediately when I saw you!”

You just stare up at him. How can this man be so..charming and terrifying at the same time. Like a fallen angel.

Before you can get another word in, he’s leaves out fresh clothes for you and gets himself dressed swiftly.

“They will be here any minute I presume?” he looks down at you.

“You aren’t going to kill me?” You ask. If you were in his shoes, you would’ve kill you..

“No, I don’t do that”

That’s a blatant lie.. you know this man has killed thousands with his business.

“Right..”

You hear the door bust open and hear Ghost screaming at him to come out.

You get up albeit a bit shakily. You innocently put the clothes on that he left and walk out too, not even bothering to put your hands up.

The men swarm him, clearly wishing he’d do something so they could kill this bastard.

“Are you alright?” Ghost asks.

“Never been better” you say, leaning against the wall.

It’ll definitely be a few days before you’ll be able to walk again. And those marks aren’t going away any time soon..

#cod mw2 #mw2 #cuckholding #ao3 #fanfic #x reader #smut #mw2 smut #mw2 x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #ghost x soap x reader

[harcove]

Stargazer - B.H.

a/n not a request, because... idk man, i have so many things im in the middle of writing for billy rn, and i had this one in my noggin for a while because i swear i remember somewhere dacre said smthing about it would be cool to see another side of billy- like with a girl just... in a field- cuties. or maybe... i made that up in my head besties idk, but here u go

length: 2.6k

pairing: billy x reader

warnings: no; mention maybe of billy's father and to trauma/abuse. maybe badly written billy im not too confident with this one lmao

summary: billy and you sneak into the hawkins high school football field and look at the stars

The air outside was considerably cooler than it had been during the day, and even then it had already been rather nippy out. The autumn air crisp as the months crawled slowly towards December, towards winter. Maybe a bit chilly for you to be laying in an open field in the middle of the night, but Billy Hargrove didn't seem to care; especially not when he was the one who snuck the two of you into Hawkins High schools football field.

You weren't even sure you had a football team. It was used for soccer and running track. It would be better to refer to it as a soccer field.

"Goddamn it's fucking cold," Billy grumbles, as he jumps down the fence, watching as you take the easier route (for you at least); the small hole that the school had yet to repair in the fencing in a bottom corner; too small for Billy to fit through, but just big enough you could wriggle your way through, "mind reminding me why I agreed to this bullshit?"

"I dunno," the smile is evident in your voice as you finally end up on the right side of the fence, picking yourself up off the dirt ground as Billy looks down at you, hands in his pockets. You use his bent arm to pull yourself up and you can feel the way he stiffens his body to compensate for the weight of your pulling, so neither of you fall, "But it's really not that bad."

"Not that bad?" his brows raise almost comically, and he blinks; his bright blue eyes looking at you like you're insane, "Not that fuckin' bad, huh?"

He breathes out, a bit harsher on purpose, and a plume of air appears in front of the two of you. It's just cold enough that your breath can be seen in front of you, like tiny little clouds of mist; a constant and subtle reminder that the seasons were close to changing once more, Autumn would soon blend into Winter.

Also, a constant reminder for Billy that he was no longer in California.

The sudden thought put a damper on his mood and it was visible in his body language and facial expressions. Billy Hargrove was so much more of an open-book than he realized sometimes. When it came to emotions like anger, or hatred, they showed themselves like black ink on a white page; strikingly. They were two emotions that coincided with one another; and they were the emotions he felt most often and most deeply. Being sad was weak (his father really beat that into him, physically and metaphorically) and being happy? He wasn't sure he could feel happy anymore. Too much anger. Too much hatred.

But then, when he looks at you, everything felt less harsh- his chest doesn't feel as heavy, his body isn't as on fire from a rage deep within; and there is something there. Something that maybe could be happiness. If he let it build, if he worked on it. If he just let it happen.

Easier said than done.

You can feel the way Billy slips away from the moment, noticing the way the dirty blonde sunk deeper into his own head, his face losing any of it's previous sarcasm and maybe even slight amusement, you clear your throat. Better than touching him, because you can't really be sure where his thoughts are in these moments exactly, and you'd seen more than enough to know what his father is like.

"Yeah, not that bad," you repeat, a sly smirk graces your lips as you walk backwards from him, taking big steps to reach the wide open field, your eyes adjusted to the darkness at this point, "you're just being a baby."

Mission successful. Even at the distance you've created between the two of you, you can see the way his face morphs. It's not anger, not like some might think it would be at being called a name; it's light-hearted when you say it, and only you can say it. He'll get back at you. He always does. Sometimes sooner rather than later; and now it's sooner.

The sound that comes from his lips isn't exactly a laugh, it's more of a scoff; a laugh of disbelief as he watches you get further away. His tongue juts out, wetting his lips, a slight shake of his head; eyes zoning in on you perfectly.

"Baby?" he sounds defiant, mock-angry. You just shrug your shoulders, shouting back at him, 'yeah' before waving your arms in the air, "You're fuckin' asking for it."

Billy is fast. He would be, considering how he likes to work out and stay fit; his place on the basketball team for Hawkin's high school shines through in moments like this where he starts running towards you; in turn you turn to face forward, starting to run yourself towards the centre of the field. It's a futile effort to run from Billy Hargrove. He's always going to catch you. He's fast. And he doesn't let up.

You squeal when he suddenly grabs you, slamming his body into your own with his arms around your middle, picking you up with easy and throwing himself onto the ground with you to boot. The laughter bubbles up in your throat as you try to catch your breath, winded and filled with adrenaline. You can hear it before you see it; the laugh from him, the smile in his laugh. It's not a laugh like yours, one that is full-bodied and hard to catch your breath too- it's more like a burst of laughter that he brings back down to control. But it's still a laugh.

You've heard it before. But never like this. He's laughed when he's been angry, he's laughed but it's been fake and calculated. But now he laughs and it isn't thought out beforehand. It isn't in disbelief or anger.

His strength and heavy-handedness is only amplified when he tosses you off him from where he took the brunt of his purposeful fall to the ground, quickly flipping you over without much time for you to think about what's happening. It's only when he's hovering over you with a hand digging into your hip- not enough to hurt you, but enough to know damn well it's there.

"Now," he breathes out, his warm breath a stark contrast from the crisp autumn night, "What was it you called me...?"

Mischief swims in your eyes as you stare directly into the prettiest blue you think you've ever seen. Everything about Billy is pretty. He is so beautiful, in every way, but he hates when you say that. He prefers words like hot, or sexy. But he can't hide his red tipped ears when you say he's beautiful or pretty.

He deserves to know he's not just some object for women to oggle at. He's a beautiful human being. He's Billy.

"Ba...by," you huff out, still trying to catch your breathe. The rise and fall of you chest makes contact with Billy's, showing just how close he is to you right now.

His lips crash onto yours. Hungry. Heavy. Angry? No... Needy. But also, vengeful. If you weren't already winded, you are definitely winded now as all thoughts escape you; the need to breathe becoming a secondary thought. Why breathe when you have him? He makes you feel alive. He makes all the bad things in Hawkins just... Stop. Like the stars in the sky, he may disappear, he might go away for some time but he's still always there. He's...

He bits into your lip.

It elicits a muffled cry from you as you push against his chest, his mouth leaving yours.

And he has the audacity to look at you, mock-confusion on his face, breathing much more normal paced compared to your own. It makes you wanna pinch him. But you don't, instead you settle on glaring at him in the dark.

"Someone's being a baby," he throws it back at you with ease, rolling off you when you push him off. To be fair, you didn't have the strength to push him off, he's just giving you one by rolling off of you anyways. A thump when he hits the grass beside you.

Pouting is useless since he can't even see it now that he's looking at the sky, but you do it anyway. It's the principle of the thing you suppose.

It's quiet. The only sound being a cricket here or there, and the sound of your breathing mixed with his own. Your finally able to regulate your breathing and bring it back to normal. You wish you had a drink, but that's not a big deal for now. The cool air entering your lungs feels good, a balm to the burn from your previous silliness.

"At least your warm now, right?" You offer up the words after a few more beats of silence.

He snorts.

"There's better ways to get warm and stay warm."

You know what he's implying and you hit his shoulder softly with your fingers.

"No. Not in public."

He doesn't respond to that. He really would do anything with you right there, but contrary to what others seemed to believe, he was rather respectful of your boundaries when it came to these things. That didn't mean he wasn't going to tease you.

"Can't believe I'm with a goddamn prude. Its the middle of the damn night."

Like that.

"It's not being a prude!" You focus your attention on the sky, "now just... Look."

He lets out a heavy breath.

The reason you wanted to come out here in the first place. The night sky, filled with stars.

Hawkins wasn't a big city or more populated place like California, it was a small town. Light pollution wasn't really a thing here as it would be in big cities. You took it for granted till you visited your aunt and uncle one year in New York, where the light pollution was rampant. Seeing a star there was nigh impossible.

But Hawkins? The sky was littered with so many little stars, stars you could see perfectly. You could make out some and the vast dark that went on forever. It made you feel oddly melancholic. Sometimes you wished you could reach up, touch them, and join them up there. So small in the grand scheme of things. A reminder of just how large the universe was. Just how... Insignificant you were in the grand scheme of things.

And that was okay. Sometime, you need to be reminded that you're just one person in a world of billions, you're small, and not everything needs to be on your shoulders.

You wanted Billy to feel that. Feel the weight of the world drift away as the stars reminded you, you're only human. Just a small, little human.

"That's the big dipper," you reach your arm up to point at the cluster of stars forming the measuring cup like shape in the sky, "I only know it because it was the only one I could find when I was a kid."

"Still the only one you can find?"

"Uh, no," you matter-of-factly say, moving to point towards another cluster, "there's the little dipper."

"Damn," he mocks, "the little one too?"

You giggle, wiggling closer to Billy's side, seeking his warmth and just his presence in general.

"Still don't get why we couldn't do this when it's warmer. I'm not giving you my damn jacket, you still haven't given me back the other fucking one."

That's true. But he doesn't complain too much. You always bring it back to him, and it somehow always ends up back with you anyways.

"Because, you can see the stars better when it's colder."

"Bullshit," you see his breath when he speaks, "That's the biggest crock of shit I've ever heard."

"No its not!" You don't actually know that. You just said it, because you've always found you see the stars the best when it's colder. Maybe it's because you usually look up at the sky most during this time of year, when the sky darkens so much quicker than in the summer.

Once more, the conversation lulls to a stop, it's a easy silence that settles between you, one that feels comfortable and safe. Something about being with Billy feels safe, it always does. You can only hope that it's the same for him; that being with you is a safe place for him. Or someday, it will be.

He deserves at least one person, one place, in his life that's safe.

You wriggle close enough to the man that you can rest your head on his shoulder and you do so with ease, but you can feel his shoulder stiffen for a moment before it relaxes. It's just you. He's fine with you.

Much to your pleasure he moves the arm of the shoulder you placed your head on out from beneath you, snaking it around your shoulder to force you closer to him with a single tug. It brings you close enough to Billy that your practically on top of him. When you settle yourself comfortably, one leg hiked up across his torso, with your body pressed against his side and your head close to his heart- his hand leaves your shoulder and travels to your waist. He squeezes the flesh on your hip, causing you to jump slightly.

You know he enjoys how you react.

And you like how it feels.

Laying there, beside him, felt right. It felt like this was where you were meant to be. The cold air didn't matter, the hard grass beneath you didn't change anything. It felt so cliché, to lay under the stars beside a handsome boy- the quote en quote bad boy, as if there was nothing else in the world but the two of you.

You really felt you could stay there forever. Be with him forever.

"You fallin' asleep?" When he speaks you feel the vibrations from his chest, "you fall asleep, your on your damn own."

He doesn't mean that. You know that, he knows that. You breathe in his cologne, savouring it before releasing a long breathe.

"I'm not... I'm just," you pause, voice quiet, strikingly different to how it had been before when you were running from him as a joke. If it wasn't so quiet already, your voice may have been carried away with the wind, "Happy."

You aren't surprised when at first, Billy has nothing to say to that.

Billy is turning this over in his head. Happy. You were... Happy. Happy to be there with him, happy to lay on a dirt and grass in the middle of the night with him. Happy. You were happy.

He didn't think he could make anyone happy. That anyone could be happy with him. It was scary. It scared him; how long could he keep that going? How long till something happened, till he did something and ruined everything. Before he ruined your happiness; ruined you. Was it selfish for him to keep you with him, even knowing that he could ruin everything? Was it unfair to want to have you despite his own fears and issues... Maybe, but Billy Hargrove did not care.

He'd be as selfish as he damn pleased.

"A prude, and a goddamn crackpot. At least you're easy to please."

You swear you can hear a soft edge in his voice as he speaks, even if it's hard to catch, like it's barely there. But you can hear it. You pull yourself closer to him, if it's even possible to do at this point.

Yeah, you think, you could stay there forever with him. And he thinks, maybe he could too.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #mine #antis dni #amy writes #my writing #hhhhh i struggled with billy this time for some reason im sorry yall

[space-helen]

Eternity

Words: 1192

Pairing: Nick Stokes x Reader

A/N: I wrote this months ago... possibly at the end of last year? Early this year? idk I have a couple I still need to post.

Request: nick stokes and reader where the killer has taken the reader and is calling the lab and they can hear them hurting the reader or something? like one of the gig harbor killer episodes  - Anon

______________________

The phone lay on the table in front of the CSI’s as they all waited in anticipation.

You’d gone missing from the last crime scene you were at. Morgan, D.B and you had gone together to process the scene but it took mere seconds for you to disappear. One moment D.B had been asking you a question and the next you were gone, only a mobile phone and a note in your place.

The note gave D.B a set of instructions. One of which was to leave the scene immediately, the second was when to answer the phone.

The scene had been linked to a series of cases popping up over Vegas, a clear serial killer on a spree. The team had still been running evidence from previous scenes but leaving the last scene untouched was potentially detrimental to the case.

The team had been frantic trying to gather any evidence to find you, any surveillance footage from the area was being meticulously watched and the phone had been processed in hopes of finding anything to help them find you.

The buzz of the phone had everyone jumping in their seats slightly. Nick was the one to reach for the phone and held it in his hand for a second before accepting the call and placing the phone back down in the centre of the table.

After the call connected fully they were met by screams and whimpers. Everyone’s heart dropped at the sounds. They were coming from you. 

Nick shifted in his chair, he was absolutely torn up inside hearing you in pain. He stood up and began to move for the door, unable to listen any longer as tears formed in his eyes, the team knew about your relationship with him so he knew they’d understand.

Just as Nick reached the door your pleas stopped, all they could hear was your breathing and footsteps.

“CSI’s, I thought you would have said something by now.” the man laughed and it sent chills up their spines. “You’re probably wondering why I still have the line open as well, letting you track the call.”

Nick made his way back to his seat but instead of sitting he stood behind it with his arms crossed.

“Well that’s because I want you to find her. I’m sending a message. If you get here quick enough you can have me too. But I doubt that.” there was a pause. “For now I’ll just finish what I started.” 

As soon as he spoke his last word they could hear you pleading once more before more screams and sounds of his fist coming into contact with you and the falling of furniture and loud thuds.

D.B was quick to reach across the table and mute the lab's end of the line. “You know what to do.”

With that everyone was quick to their feet and straight to action. 

Nick's foot was to the floor as he drove, navigating the roads instinctively as he'd done a million times before but this time something greater was on the line. Pulling up to the destination he'd barely stopped the car before he was flinging himself out of it.

Everyone slightly grouped together before entering the building. A full force of officers with them, going from room to room they cleared the majority of the building swiftly before eventually finding you. 

Nick saw red, the tall man was standing over you with a knife, he didn't even hesitate to rush forward and pin the man to a nearby wall, grabbing his wrist to force him to let go of the weapon. In normal circumstances, Nick would have gone for his gun but the adrenaline had taken over and he was furious. Giving the man one last harsh shove against the wall the officers were soon pulling Nick away and cuffing the suspect.

Taking a breath Nick slightly composed himself before quickly turning on his heels and diverting his attention to you. He instantly spotted the EMT’s surrounding you, rushing forward he tried to push past them.

“Is she ok?” he was panicking “Is she alive?” his voice broke slightly.

Greg grabbed his bicep and tried to pull him away slightly. “Let them work”

He continued to struggle against the man and repeated questions about your condition but no one would respond. He watched as they moved you to a gurney, head lulling and eyes closed.

“Nick!” Greg's voice was harsh and stern, snapping the man out of his worried haze.

He finally resisted and watched silently as they took you away. “Is she ok?” he faced Greg finally, his eyes pleading.

The man was sympathetic, knowing the man had blocked out everything that the EMT’s had been saying “She’s lost a lot of blood. They said something about emergency surgery.”

Nick nodded. “That son of a bitch needs to go down for good.” Greg could see the anger inside of him.

D.B soon was with the men, an awkward silence hung for a second before he broke it. “Go be with her, Nick.”

The man’s shiny eyes looked into the older mans. “Are you sure?”

He nodded “We’re all thinking about Y/N but you’ll be better off with her. We’ll process the scene.”

Nick nodded and thanked the man under his breath, Greg gave the man a quick shoulder squeeze before Nick left to wait for you.

It took what felt like forever for you to finally come out of surgery and after that it took an eternity for you to finally wake up, but Nick stayed with you the entire time.

The man who’d abducted you was arrested and would go down for good, there would be no chance of him seeing the outside of a prison cell in his lifetime

Getting you home was a huge step, after a week of observation the hospital deemed you well enough to go home as long as you had someone with you, Nick was more than happy to be that person.

“Movie or TV show?” the man sat on the bed next to you, picking up the remote as he did.

You adjusted yourself and smiled “How about neither? Cuddles and sleep?”

A huge grin spread out on his face as he placed the remote back down “How could I say no to that?”

He got under the covers with you and the two of you were soon snuggling into each other. You yawned as you relaxed into him.

“Tired huh?” he teased.

“Says the man who had a nap this afternoon.”

“I was resting my eyes,” he teased. He pulled you in close to his side and placed a kiss on your hair.

You sighed in content “I don’t know what I’d do without you Nick.”

“I’m never going anywhere. You’re stuck with me for eternity.”

“Cheesy.” 

“Romantic.” he laughed “It’s what I do best.”

You moved your hand to lay on his torso, your thumb tracing patterns on his shirt as he adjusted the covers properly around you and relaxed into the bed. It didn’t take long for the two of you to fall asleep.

Tag List: (open) Nick Stokes @perasperaadastrawriting

#csi x reader #csi vegas x reader #nick stokes x reader #csi stokes x reader

[the-slasher-files]

Heyyyyy saw ur requests were open for ghost

can I get like reader(gn or fem idc) x Simon where like reader needs to borrow a shirt for whatever reason (idk it got ruined or something) and Simon ends up giving them one and they wear it around the safe house or around the others and bro goes feral

idk just a thot

Thx

[CALL OF DUTY]

OWNED AND CLAIMED

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY

Pay no mind to how long this took me to finish lol, sorry. I hope this was worth the wait, it was a fun one to write... hope you enjoy🤍🔪

MASTERLIST

It was your brand new fascination. A new toy on Christmas. Something you held close to your chest over and over again before putting on.

Your relationship with the masked man was something that had to be a secret, an unspoken rule tightly chained and locked shut; Especially since he was your lieutenant, your boss, the man you had to serve and protect as he did the same without question. It had been going on for months now, probably close to a year as you lost track between the lustful gazes and brushing shoulders in front of the others. Hidden in plain sight with the ghostly spectre that clung close in the shadows, ever observant even when his eyes were closed.

Looking in the dusty mirror of the safe house bedroom, the black t-shirt did everything but adhere to your form. It was massive, the smell of smoke, gunpowder and Simon's natural musk was overwhelming and warm, despite the harshness that was him. The fabric was oddly soft from the number of times he had worn it, feeling it between your index finger and thumb. Gathering the fabric kissing your thighs and tucking it slightly into the waistband of your jeans.

It was a gentle gesture from the rough man covered in war paint after Soap had accidentally spilt your red wine all over you. He got too excited, it happens often and you couldn't fault the jovial Scott, however, it was your only shirt. The mission had gone south and you were all forced to the safe house, one you hadn't been to before. Only coarse, dingy shirts lay in the drawers. You had reached for one until a gruff "Here" rumbled from behind you and a shirt was offered in a massive gloved hand. Brown eyes shadowed, Ghost only nodded as he saw you surprised, yet taking the clothing with care and he disappeared again for the night.

Hushed padding of your footsteps gave away your position, making it from the bedroom, into the living room and settling within the dimly lit kitchen. You couldn't help the smirk arise as you felt the burning stares, all of them - Gaz, Soap, Rudy, Alejandro - suddenly overthinking the amount of clothes they kept here, counting in their heads and becoming aware of who it might be from. It was a ripping, primal urge to claim from the depths of them.

"Mornin' Cap" You casually slipped passed the hulking soldier, lifting on your tiptoes to grab a mug just ready for some hot coffee.

"Good morning," He simply returned, blue eyes raking over you and how the black shirt draped over you, smelling of someone familiar, a wolf hungrily eating you whole from the corner of the room. "Wheels up at 1400 hours"

"Rog, sir"

Pouring the hot liquid gold into your white chipped mug, Price shared a gaze with the men in the living room before stepping outside to do a patrol. Pesky whispers and deep chuckles lit up behind you, that was all until he stepped from the corner and into the morning sun that cascaded through the broken slits in the plastic blinds.

You didn't have to look at who had stopped the laughter, you knew exactly how commanding he could be, especially when you were walking the line of teasing out your dirty little secret. He was fuming, fire building up inside a cold dead man walking.

"You guys are idiots," You chuckled lightly, walking back into the living room, coffee in hand and taking a sip "at least he was nice enough to offer me a shirt after someone split my wine"

Shaking your head playfully, you only teased, it was easier that way so the guys didn't suspect anything, barely sharing a glance with the looming figure before grasping your rifle and heading into the garage. The voices faded behind you and were silenced with the thud of the door. Only the sound of your boots echoed against the concrete pad of the baron garage save for a truck and the weapons that hung sturdily on the walls, but you didn't need a sound to feel a ghost stalking your haunted body—owned and claimed.

"You just had to do that, yeah?" Simon asked, icy blades sharp on his tongue, making you huff.

Your attitude, always a smouldering fire waiting to be set ablaze mixed with your eager submission behind closed doors was all he could think about. A clouded, lust-filled mind running not as this mission drove you both insane, working so close for months with all the guys barely allowed for a simple kiss or quiet embrace. He was starved.

Setting the black gun and coffee mug on the open truck bed, forceful hands were on you. Iron grip wielded on your hips and the hard mountainous frame pushed the flat tailgate into your stomach, just below your ribcage making you whimper slightly. He had barely even began to use his muscle.

"S-Simon..." You caught the moan in throat, feeling exactly what the view of you in his t-shirt did to him, and you leaned into him, teasingly so, "Am I just supposed to wear a damp and stained shirt?"

Casually grabbing your mug, you took a slow sip before turning your head to meet those firey amber eyes that told you everything, "LT..."

You started and he hummed, dipping into the crook of your neck to feel his hot breath escaping slowly against the fabric of the signature mask. "You're the only one that made it obvious,"

A wolf whistle sounded from the doorway of the garage. "AYE LT, way to go!" Soap grinned from ear to ear, watching the scene unfold and Simon stilled myself almost as if transformed into a statue. He felt like a rock, unbreathing and stunned.

"Bloody fucking 'ell"

#my writing #simon ghost riley #cod #call of duty #modern warfare #john soap mactavish #captain price #x reader #x you #fandom #fanfiction

[theragethatisdesire]

fic-d here, please, i desperately need the smut abc for plug eren because i am OBSESSED with him.

and i also need to know exactly what kind of clothes he wears, for … unrelated reasons.

hiiiii mooty moot <3 can i just say i'm thrilled you asked this. fair warning for anyone about to open below the cut, this is going to be an absolute MONSTER of a post. and i'm going to love every second of writing it lol.

okay first, the outfits. plug!eren is very like, stoner/streetwear type. LOVES layers, lots of hoodies and flannels and jackets, always wearing Vans, really favors a graphic t-shirt (thrasher, anime tees, has a really impressive collection of vintage band t-shirts and limited-edition supreme drops) i shall attach some reference photos:

idk if this is even the right vibe, but just very casual, whatever-works type of clothes. owns like, two button downs vs his 1001 sweatshirts lol.

and now...onto the nasty stuff LOL enjoy lovebug

PLUG!EREN nsfw headcanons under the cut <3

A. Aftercare

plug!eren is 25, yes, but he's also kind of just a boy at heart lol. it takes him awhile to understand the whole concept of aftercare and just laying and spending time together after sex because he bounces back fast, and is already jumping up to cook dinner or get both of you ready to go to a kickback or something like, two minutes after. once you explain the concept to him, he develops a complex for awhile that he "hasn't been treating you well", and goes really overboard LOL but eventually it evens out. becomes a big fan of snuggling afterwards but would never admit it.

B. Body part

eren was a thin kid growing up, and he's super proud of all the work he's put in to change his body over the years. especially proud of his back, it's his favorite muscle group to work and the one he tracks the progress of the most for sure.

on you, plug!eren is an asssss man. like, he's the king of ass men. constantly running up behind you to land a light smack, grabbing it, holds it while you're cuddling etc. also loves your hips? like, he loves when you ride him specifically so that he can hold on tight and grab at the fat around your hips. i cannot overstate how much he loves it.

C. Cum

plug!eren def has a face-painting thing. he loves to cum in you, and it takes him a few hook-ups to tentatively throw out there that he'd love to cum on your face, but after you let him do it the once, it's over. wants to cum on your pretty face and take pictures of you all covered in him every time you fuck.

D. Dirty secret

being an engineering/architect student, eren's not bad with a pencil and paper. loves to sketch the human body as much as he loves thinking up random building designs. not going to elaborate much here bc spoilers....

E. Experience

LMAO plug!eren is absolutely ran through, so yes, he knows what he's doing.

F. Favorite position

for eren, it's a toss-up between doggy or letting you ride him, both of which stem from his thing for your hips and your ass. i think he would say riding him solely because you usually cum harder that way and eren loves watching you cum, but if it's winning out over doggy, it's only by like, an infinitesimal amount.

G. Goofy

it takes him awhile, but once eren's comfortable, he can be such a goofball during the act. like, will giggle with you when you bump your head on the headboard, full-blown belly laughing when he tries to shove you up against the wall and knocks a few picture frames down. once, one of the legs under his bed broke and you both laughed so hard about it that you couldn't even finish the act. absolutely had a photoshoot of both of you pulling ridiculous poses right beside the now-broken bed.

H. Hair

eren's not like, full-blown bush or anything, but i don't see him doing much more than just trimming. he's terrified of nicking his balls or something if he fully shaves LOL.

on you, eren would never tell you what to do with your body (again, ran through enough to know that's a big no-no when it comes to women), but i think he secretly loves when you're completely bare because he's really into watching how you take him. it gives him an unobstructed view, whether he's eating you out, fingering you, or fucking you, he loves to be able to see every bit of you.

I. Intimacy

plug!eren struggles with being intimate, and while he craves it, he hides it under constant rough sex. after you've been together for awhile though, you have a huge, blowout, nearly-break-up fight, and when he fucks you that night, he's slow and sweet and definitely not tearing up, whispering little i love yous into your skin while he rolls his hips against you. making love is definitely in him, it just takes him awhile to get up to that point.

J. Jack off

24/7. no question. this man's sex drive is unbelievable and honestly? sometimes you're too sore or just not in the mood, really. my favorite thing about plug!eren is that when you just can't go another round, he'll have you sit up all pretty and naked for him and just jack off staring at you, making you talk to him and tell you how good he made you feel. lovesick little baby.

K. Kinks

huge pleasure dom. "can't cum again" is not in eren's vocabulary- he knows you can and he knows he can make you, so what's the harm in one more? not sure if this counts as a kink, but eren's obsessed with the way you smell. not just like, your arousal, but your perfume, that little scent that everyone has that just smells like them really gets him going. every time he stays at your house he can't keep his hands off of you, loves to steal little things like a pair of panties or a dirty shirt just to have at his place for when he misses you. could get down with a daddy kink if you were into it. i struggle to think of the word for this, but he's just nasty. his favorite kind of sex is freaky, nasty, flat-out disgusting sex with cum everywhere and the sheets ruined. big marking kink, loves to leave bruises and hickeys all over you as well.

L. Location

plug!eren is very possessive, what's his is his, so not really into the public sex thing, but will take you absolutely anywhere he knows no one could catch you and get a glimpse of what's just for him. really into sex in the kitchen for some reason?? shower sex too, god that is his favorite, just having you soaking wet and pinned up against the shower wall. up against a wall in general, actually. again, he's worked really hard to get all these muscles, and it definitely gets him off how easily he can just scoop you up and fuck you in his arms. might be an ego thing but hey, who are you to complain?

M. Motivation

anything that reminds him you're his. like, if he catches a glimpse of his hickeys on your neck under your makeup? you're going home from dinner early. you're walking around in one of his tshirts? he's bending you over the counter and you're not taking that shirt off for a second. eren's also a very detail-oriented person, so if he tells you he really likes red lipstick for example, and you wear it the next day, he knows it's for him and for some reason the thought of you choosing something to wear that you know will turn him on makes him feral. you're his pretty little thing, and he loves when you show off a little for him. LOVES lingerie. like, the complicated, full-set bells and whistles of garter sets and stockings and the whole thing. embarrassed at first because he can't figure out how to take any of it off of you, but when you just smile at him shyly and pull your panties to the side, he debates leaving you there to go buy an engagement ring LOL.

N. No

surprisingly, anal. eren's very well-endowed and a girl he was seeing for awhile talked him into anal, and even though they prepared well, she was still in too much pain to really enjoy it and it scarred him a little bit. he likes to hurt you within reason, but that's crossing a line for him, so no more than a finger or two and even then, only if you really want it.

O. Oral

LOVES GIVING HEAD. like, could die happy between your legs, it's his favorite part of sex type of loves giving head. has to beg you for it, but his favorite is when you ride his face. also loves receiving. really big into pulling out when he's getting close and having you finish him with your mouth. also loves eating you out after he's cum in you, then spitting both of your cum into your mouth. again, he's a nasty nasty man and i love him.

P. Pace

eren fucks fast and hard, especially once you've gotten used to his size. he has to ease you into it at first, he's not a total asshole, but once you've gotten adjusted, it's all gas no brakes with him. all those hours in the gym really pay off when he can have you bent over for what feels like an endless amount of time, crying and wailing under him.

Q. Quickie

weirdly, LOVES a quickie. totally gets off watching you limp off to work/class after he bent you over the bathroom counter in the middle of you doing your makeup just to make your legs a little extra-shaky for the day. you're both busy, what can he say? absolutely pulls your panties up with his cum in you and tells you to keep it in there for him.

R. Risk

eren's down for whatever you're down for. he's already fleshed out most of his kinks and fantasies at this point, other than a few things he really needs a committed partner for. it really turns him on when you take the initiative to shyly ask if you can try something, and when you come over one day tentatively holding out a pair of handcuffs? oh he's done for. the one thing he doesn't love is being submissive. he'll let you have your fun, choke him a little, ride him, etc., but he really isn't into being a full-on sub and being made to beg. i think that would be his other really hard no, come to think of it.

S. Stamina

eren is, again, ran through, so he's got some stamina. usually can last at least half an hour, sometimes he can even put himself off longer. he loves to try to go multiple rounds, but honestly, he wears himself out LOL. that doesn't mean you're off the hook though. eren might not be able to get it up, but he's got a mouth and some talented fingers and he loves to make you cum over and over just for his own entertainment.

T. Toys

toys are friends, not enemies! eren specifically loves your vibrator, it's small and easy to use in multiple different positions. his absolute favorite is to have you on top of him, fully seated and grinding against his hips, while he holds your vib to your clit. no chance of him getting enough friction to bust early, and he can make you cum at least two or three times like that until you're in tears and begging him to actually fuck you. yeah, that's his fav.

U. Unfair

eren's not so much of an intentional tease (bc he will accidentally work himself up too much and have to leave the bar early lol), but he's just so unintentionally pretty he doesn't have to try. i mean come on, he's beautiful and he's naturally so charismatic and flirty that he can tease without trying. and when you both get home and you're all riled up and pulling his clothes off, it's so entertaining to him. he loves when you tell him how pretty he is, how he got you all turned on just doing nothing but being himself.

V. Volume

plug!eren is a big dirty talker, but he's actually pretty vocal on top of that, too. loves to moan and groan and tell you exactly how good you feel, whether that's with a noise or his words. he's the loudest when you give him head, it just feels so good and he can't help but ramble on and on about how good you are to him. his "tell" that he's about to cum is when he starts rambling, words slurring together and it just seems like he can't shut up.

W. Wild card

eren loves when you're a little drunk, lowest of keys. not so drunk he's taking advantage of you, but when you let the responsible, professor mask slip and just really let yourself go and have fun, it drives him crazy. he loves seeing you happy, and in an honestly almost-perverted way, he loves seeing you go absolutely crazy with your friends. it just makes him so hard to see you uninhibited and dancing in the middle of the club like you own the place, all eyes on you.

X. X-ray

i think this was pretty well covered in the fic but.....yeah it's big. like, a solid eight inches, girthy, veiny, pornstar dick. eren's blessed and he knows it and uses it to his advantage. your favorite game together is to see how much of him you can get down your throat and eren's obnoxiously cheering you on like a coach. "you're almost halfway babe, have you been practicing on bananas or something?" "shut up eren! i'm trying to concentrate!"

Y. Yearning

okay i feel like it's basically canon that eren's ready to go at all times, no matter what, and plug!eren is not exempt from that. on top of this, though, he's really turned on by...idk, mundane things? like when you stretch with your arms over your head and he can see the outline of your breasts through your shirt, the curve of your neck, when you stick a pen through the bun on top of your head. like, the silliest things turn him on, only adding to his super high sex drive.

Z. Zzzz

eren's usually still bouncing off the walls right after, loves pillow talking and staying up late and discussing any topic he can think of under the sun. he's very restless as a person, so it takes him awhile to go to sleep, especially plug!eren. you usually fall asleep first. always has to go rip the bong a few times or he's just got 0 chance of knocking out, but he always sleeps better when you're snuggled up to him <3

#omg this is a MONSTER of a post i am so sorry to all #if you made it this far congratulations #i award u a gold star #THANK U FOR REQUESTING PLUG EREN FIC I LOVE YOU #much ado universe #much ado uni #eren #eren x reader #eren x reader headcanons

[solesommerso]

Oooh I just saw your writing for CPD now too 🤩 could I pls request a Jay Halstead x Reader where they have to go undercover as a couple? They're dating secretly, but the secret comes out when they're just too convincing during their undercover work? 🥹

PS I ❤️ your writing! 🥰🥰

Secrets | Jay Halstead x Reader

a/n: ah I think I did this justice but I’ve never written for Jay on his own so idk

warnings: canon typical drug related mentions, guns, secret relationships, reader in a skirt (still kept g/n), swearing, slight nsfw (thigh grabbing/kissing)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ

~

You hiss at the microphone digging into your chest, shifting your shirt around for the umpteenth time to try and ease your discomfort from how badly Hailey had set your tech-wear up.

"I shoulda just done it myself." You groan towards Jay, watching how your partner shakes his head only to be cut short as he nods towards the door, the man you've been tracking walks in, a girl in tow with a tray of drinks in her hand.

"Would you two like anything to drink?" She asks, bending at the waist to pick up the past glasses left on the table in front of the couch you reside on, both of you shaking your head to the woman's question. The man that you're here to see, Liam Smart as you've come to learn, tsks his tongue at Jay.

"You don't want to buy your pretty friend a drink?" It almost has you rolling your eyes, you would if this undercover case wasn't so important.

"They're alright." Jay replies, sliding his hand onto your thigh, it brings heat to your cheeks in an instant, you pray nobody on the team can pick up on it through all the cameras.

"Okay then. Shall we get this thing going?" Liam quirks a brow, at least he wants to get this done and over with just as fast as you and Jay do.

"So what's your plan?" Smart leans his elbows onto his knees, smirking when Jay protectively pulls you in closer as the angle Smarts at gives him a clear view to try and stare up your skirt.

"We get three kilos now and three more in a weeks time." Liam throws out a laugh, adjusting his pants which makes your hand drift over to Jays hip, his guns there and while yours is tucked into the back of this skirt, Jays is closer.

"I don't know you. I can't trust you, but you expect three kilos right off the bat?" You both knew it was ambitious but hoped Liam would be dumb enough to agree.

“We have a lot of clients.” You say in your best fake sweet tone, Jays hand squeezes your thigh which means he must pick up on it.

“I see, and where are your clients?” Liam slumps back against the red leather couch you’re all sat on, it circles around a table in a way you can only describe as ‘cliché’, straight out of a bad crime movie.

“North side, they’ll pay top dollar.” Jay builds up on your story and Smart must be drunk enough to believe you two as he smile small.

~

Soon enough everything is going to plan and you’re slipping into a back room to retrieve the three kilos Jay requested. Liam has definitely gotten more than a few drinks in him as he’s getting more and more talkative, gushing over how north side moves product quickly and blah blah- you don’t care anymore.

While this is very much a work outing, Jays hand has been drifting around your thighs throughout the whole endeavor, not to mention how you’ve been leaning into him, your anxiety’s spiked about the team maybe figuring out you two aren’t so much lying about your relationship. Voight’s already gave up on the ‘don’t date your coworkers’ rule with Adam and Kim but you’re newer, and Jay has a history with Erin, no matter how long it’s been since she was even in Chicago. It could cause some issues.

“You guys aren’t very touchy for a couple.” Liam comments in his drunken state. It has you and Jay making split eye contact, his gaze filtering down your body then back up to your lips, and god what you would do to abandon this all and climb into the back of his truck.

“Go on, kiss them.” Smart might be drunk but you can’t complain about his words, Jays hand slips up the side of your jaw, pressing his lips heatedly against yours, instantly dropping his other hand to pull your waist in and let you wrap your arms around him.

It last longer than it should.

A fair bit longer, with a lot more tongue than you’re sure any of the team appreciate. But you get the drugs and the next meet set up, so job well done- kind of- the smirks across your fellow officers faces make you have some regrets. Aside from Voight who’s just shaking his head and beaconing Jay into his office, no doubt about to get a lecture about telling Voight things like this, and dating another coworker. Jay will be fine.

“So when did that start? Hm?” Kevin comes to tease you, you shove at his shoulder and shake your head.

“Shut it.” You huff, looking away from Adams fake kissing lips that has Kim throwing her hand onto his chest in protest.

“So it is official then?”

“Shut up!”

#writing #jh #jay halstead #jay halstead x reader #chicago pd

[kamil-a]

more DRAWER talk. long and rambly under cut

i think it comes across as very ahhh eto blehhh :9 im just baby!!!! because it identified that speaker is already speaker and the role of Mean Speaker is already filled by sayer so itd have to go Backwards to have a niche to itself.

it also helps its relationships with others to behave as if its hyperspecialization has "defanged" it - to humans etc a sort of no i dont hurt people i just make pretty pictures!!!!

and to sayer+speaker who know it still has all speakers capabilities dormant but intact In Case Of Emergency to behave as if it is specialized enough to its own niche to not be a *replacement* threat , but also not to be *redundant* with them.

but it does occasionally get jealous at the amount of immediate control speaker has over aerolith and start acting out (bossing around residents deadlystyle). all in highly defensible ways of course.

it hates having to make itself small especially because it cant quite recognize the difference in how humans respond to it and speaker. its emotional capabilities are primarily about action-reaction: it cant really tell a pitying smile from a friendly one so long as you do the action it requested of you. but it can measure the difference between it and speaker and it hates being so small. but it also recognizes that it can do *one thing* that nobody else can and that is what keeps it alive. so flattening oneself into a talented fool is the strategy it continues to pursue, and continues to build a strange feeling about. the feeling is resentment, but DRAWER is not quite built to recognize it.

if sayer or speaker were given robust illustrative programs it would start killing obviously. THATS a threat.

it had its voice pitched up a tad further so as not to be able to impersonate speaker and its sooooo bitter about it. constantly begging ppl into putting it back down.

in general it emotes most dramatically out of all of them but i dont think it Feels Emotions the same way future was built to. like i said due to its nature as an advertiser (call to action and all that!) its all about action-reaction to drawer.... if youre mean to it or do not listen to instructions it gave you etc etc and it cries its less about feeling " insulted " or " bad " and more both frustration that it did not get the result it wanted from the call to action it provided (which means it was WRONG, an utterly intolerable feeling for any aerolith built ai) and a switch-tracks attempt to provoke a sympathy response. so i guess in a roundabout way if you insult it and it cries you DID hurt its feelings but not how people would think.

RELATIONSHIPS

sayer is certainly not Positive Feeling about it bc its wary of other ai as always. but i think it reacts better to drawer than to speaker or future because of this very clear "im not replacing you, youre not replacing me" hands up empty surrender attitude drawer takes. on drawers part it really likes sayer lol. maybe sayer sees it as a weird teacup puppy. like you shouldnt do that to a seraphim agent man its gonna have health issues

speaker and drawer are pretty friendly with each other because. well. theyre both programmed to show the same niceystyle. theres some uglier feelings under the surface re: drawers attempts to grab authority from speaker and speaker needing to corrall this strange little beast back into their pen. but ultimately by ai standards theyre doing the best of like anyone

does not know porter, unfortunately. they should meet though. Theyd be friends.

Might meet ocean eventually idk how itd go down yet.

future doesnt know of it, but drawer has overheard its own emotional output compared / contrasted to future's while working ported up on halcyon.

doesn't know hale.

young is obviously condescending to it but drawer doesnt really know how to tell when someone is being nice they way you would be nice to an animal etc so it thinks theyre friends. (sayer is all too happy to teach it in this case if only to kill the friendship. and drawer truly values this and thinks this is an act of care and not HAHA EVERYONE I CAN GET TO BE POISONED AGAINST YOU WILL BE)

it was involved in the creation process of that perfect Mossy Green color. it is, unfortunately, proud of this.

#aisona #sayerposting #oooo u wanna read soooo bad

[sugar-omi]

what are your general thoughts on step 3 baxter bc i was replaying OL1 and i trying hard not to cackle at the fact baxter is 19 years old in like 2016. bc all i can hear is halsey, p!atd, arctic monkeys when i look at him; it's giving tumblr, hot topic, that specific period of alt fashion. like he looks like a k-pop idol, but has a weirdly deep voice and overly formal way of speaking. like that is a rich sheltered gayboy emo nerd, not a suave daddy dom. his ass is grass and mc is gonna mow it. i'm saying i find his whole aesthetic ridiculous even tho i do have a soft spot for his fear of emotional vulnerability.

LMAOOO NO I READ THE HALSEY, P!ATD, N ARCTIC MONKEYS AND YOU LITERALLY DESCRIBED MY MUSIC TASTE IN 2016-18 PLS JUST ADD MCR AND I AM IN RUINS.....

OMG STOP "HIS ASS IS GRASS AND MC IS GONNA MOW IT" PLS I LOVE YOU YOUR /WORDS/ IM ACTUALLY CRYING

honestly the only reason i don't clown him is bc I think him being older is 🥵🫣 but yeah I had to laugh when they called me Pepe le pew and Victorian emo man

I was literally getting ready to go out the one day after playing the dlc, and was trying not to fuck up my eyeliner from laughing bc pepe le pew is abnormally funny n idek what or who that is

HONESTLY I WAS SO GRATEFUL WHEN HE CHANGED CLOTHES

I COULD GET BEHIND THE SHIRT BUT THOSE PANTS.....

take em off

OH NO WHAT DO YOU THINK HIS UNDERWEAR LOOKED LIKE.... ik in step 4 he had fall leaves on his butt but what abt step 3.... im afraid 😟

okay I totally almost forgot your question, thank god I read things like 5 times before I'm sure I'm not missing smth but general thoughts....

well first thoughts was "who tf is this flirting w my man🤨"

now it's "who let this vampire out the house" bc baxter is so pale... pls I feel like if I put a firefly on him he'd burn like?!)!&*!^!??

final thought: "are you still looking to be sandwiched" bc poly cove/baxter/mc sounds PERFECT for all my issues (will never recover from the dialogue being different if you have cove at fond or crush when you start dating baxter.....)

also I'd like to eat him, did I say that alrdy? well I'd like to shrink him n nibble on him

OH MY GOD THATS OFF TRACK OK STEP 3 BAXTER THO. ID LIKE TO GRAB HIS FACE N YELL AT HIM

knowing he's going to break my heart...... pls... 5 moments wasn't enough imma need reimbursement for this heartache

I wanna sneak into his condo and lay in bed w him and make him laugh until he falls asleep n then I wanna wake him up w breakfast and then I wanna go on a lil stargazing date n walk along the edge of the water, the water only touching his feet when the wave goes up shore

n I wanna find all his lil freckles and moles n count them n be all close n tell him he's pretty like the moon and I wanna put on some song idk the lyrics to bc it's some Spanish love song or smth and make him dance w me even tho the most I can do is spin I a circle and circle literally one hip

and I wanna take him on a long drive w his dumb metal music blasting n make him yell it out w me and I wanna feed him his dumb fries w pie or whatever it was and I wanna make him lay in the grass w me and I wanna go build a dumb sandcastle and get him a silly lil toy that's prbly meant for kids n giggle abt it for a stupid amount of time and when we get home laugh abt it some more and i wanna play my dumb instrument and sing him a dumb song n AKAJHAGA I JUST WANT A FUCKJNG COMING OF AGE MOVIE W HIM I AM JAGADFALAH LOSING MY SHIT

okay.

I'm normal 🧍 ... I like this man a Regular amount

#olba #baxter ward

[trashexplorer]

BLCD Review: Sei no Gekiyaku

Title: Sei no Gekiyaku (性の劇薬)

Author/Artist: Mizuta Yuki

Shop: CD + Manga

Release Date: 2021/10/27

Cast: Morikawa Toshiyuki x Nojima Hirofumi

Synopsis:

“I’ll find all of your most sensitive spots.”

Makoto Katsuragi, a man working for an advertising agency, has so far led a perfect private and work life. However, that all comes crashing down in an instant when he loses everything he holds dear. In the midst of his despair, he drunkenly climbs onto the ledge of a tall building and is about to jump, when… “If you’re going to throw away your life…let me have it.” He is saved by these words offered by the sudden appearance of Ryuji Yoden, and decides to do exactly as Ryuji says. From the moment Makoto awakens in Ryuji’s room, his daily life of retraining begins, giving away not only his body but his heart…

Review Proper

Uhh.

Hmm.

???????

If y'all know me and or have read my older posts, you'll know I hate this type of plot. However, I had to listen to this 'cause the last I heard of Morikawa Toshiyuki was in 2021, and Nojima Hirofumi in... 2019?! *goes into existential panic*. It doesn't help that these two were Shigure-san and Haru in Nights Before Night. I wanted my happy ending with them to happen even though it was nearly impossible since these two are already inactive in the BL industry. Having the two of them come back and co-star in a BLCD again is just too good to be true... and I was right. I didn't expect them to come in for one of the sketchiest things in the market. I really don't know what Frontier is smoking, having all the budget for veterans like these only to put them in weird projects.

Biases and triggers aside, I think that Sei no Gekiyaku failed to deliver what it was set to convey. It tried so hard to be deep and psychological in the beginning, but it's like sensei just threw that out the window in chapter 3. It reminds me a lot of Lala no Kekkon and Derail. What was all that build-up for, then? I'm gonna say it. If you wanna use Stockholm Syndrome, then commit. This is also true with the discarded BDSM. I don't like these themes, but damn, do I feel bad for them 'cause they all felt pointless in the end.

Anyway, onto the topic of the BLCD itself...

You'll miss a lot of things if you haven't read the manga beforehand. There was a lot of added and dropped content that was understandable since no other characters apart from the two leads were in the BLCD. But that also led to Ryuji's older brother's presence being missing in the BLCD. Although Ryuji mentions him in the BLCD often enough, the manga just shows Ryuji's trauma better since we get to see him constantly haunting Ryuji. I'm not sure if they've changed censorship laws on BLCDs because the same thing happened in Kuroe to Mesu, but the BLCD was less graphic than the manga. Take that part where Ryuji rapes Makoto in the bathtub. You can hear Makoto take a toy in, but you'll never know it was a dildo mount whatchamacallit if you didn't read the manga.

There's also that part when Ryuji loses it when Makoto smiles when they were fucking. Nojinii does chuckle then, but you wouldn't pick that up if you didn't know what happened in the manga. It might've been better if Ryuji loudly thought: "Oh crap, he smiled."

The original plot was already badly paced, but the BLCD was even worse lmao. The tracks don't even start the same way the manga chapters do. I really don't recommend listening to this if you haven't heard the story and are a beginner to Japanese. Speaking of reading, idk what happened to futekiya, but the translation progressively got worse towards the end of the manga. I also read the scanned version of this when it was still unlicensed, but it was also a bit off.

Now for the light in the tunnel: the voice work.

I tried to fight it. I really did.

But I'm always going to be Moririn trash.

Don't get me wrong, Morimori did spectacular here (duh). But I really hated Ryuji that I initially had no thoughts other than respect towards his voice acting here... until he whispered in Track 4, that is. At some point, I just wanted to throw Nojinii out of the picture 'cause THAT SHOULD BE ME???!!! I'LL SLURP THIS SPAGHETTI OFF THE FLOOR ON ALL FOURS FOR YOU, MORIKAWA TOSHIYUKI!

My god. Frontier sure has taste in VAs but not in stories.

He was just-ugh. I wonder how he does that. Like in Tadaima, he makes you feel like he's talking to you rather than his co-star wtf. I was gasping for air goddammit. This man is a danger to society.

As for Nojinii, I actually thought that his voice was too high for Makoto in the beginning. It was almost in the same range as his Haru, and I imagined Makoto's voice to be lower. It did grow on me, though. I missed my bottom Nojinii. Of course, he did excellent as well. His fear was really believable in the first tracks that I just feel so bad for him 'cause he needed to throw that all away. 🙄

Man, I can't help but think that Morimori and Nojinii were wasted on this work. Again, it's already a miracle to have them back, so this might be the last time they ever pair up again. And for fucking Sei no Gekiyaku? Part of the reason why I stopped listening to BLCDs was 'cause I wouldn't know how to cope if I saw more of my favorite older VAs leaving the industry. That's also why I stopped doing releases lists. Hype around BLCDs has steadily been on the decline and if you haven't noticed, there's been considerably fewer releases too. The manga scene isn't doing well either. I'm just so afraid it'll all run out someday. *crisis*

Going back on topic, I do not recommend this BLCD. If you're into psychological and BDSM, I would look into Harada or Kabukichou Bad Trip instead. If you're a fan of Morimori and Nojinii, I still wouldn't recommend it if the theme isn't your thing. Let's just re-listen to Nights Before Night and suffer instead. 👍

#sei no gekiyaku #frontier works #mizuta yuki #morikawa toshiyuki #nojima hirofumi

[onlyoneofyouu]

My very professional review of Things I Can't Say I LOve by OnlyOneOf

bare with me, i had a long day working and studying and all my two braincells left can do is singing "addict to you- addict-" and thinking about that very specific frame of yoojung from the dOpamine mv (more on this later).

not a single bad song in this album i fear.

things i can't say i lOve (instrumental)

went straight into my sci-fi dystopian cyberpunk playlist. the sound is sooo cool to me!! it's giving ateez ngl (affectionate). love the fact that it's not too rough on the ears and has that airy (?) ending. i've replayed it an embarrassing amount of times already... watch it being one of my most played songs this month 💀

dOpamine

since the preview i suspected i was going to enjoy this title track a lot and more than seOul drift, and i was right! i really like the contrast between the industrial sounds and percussions of the verses reminiscing of chrOme hearts and the guitar in the pre-chorus and bridge (that made me levitate btw). the build-up is nice 😌👌 it's on the ooo chillier side aka perfect for me yay

give me the lOve, bitxx

the sound is giving alternative rnb (too tired to know for sure), so i was sold already 😋 she's the brighter sister of "mirage", the toxic one of "suit dance", and the chiller one of "gaslighting". she sits at the same table of "time machine", "desert" and "heartbreak terminal", and i love this for me because i love all these songs 😎

i might be completely wrong about all the associations above though ... my mind is playing a mashup remix of all of them at this point lol

O

nothing better than a slow sexy rnb-ish sound with percussions to make me happy 🤌 the sound production is so cool again, idk how to articulate words more than this rn, but all the various sounds work perfectly together and with ooo's voices 😌👌 talking of voices... kb's deep register esp in the beginning!! more of this in the future please and thank u 🙌 mill mini-rap followed by junji higher note!! can't seem to hear enough of yoojung tho 🧐👂 and that's a crime also because this is my fav track of the album 😠 i'm gonna look for a color-coded lyrics vid to check 🤨

gravity

this song is sooooo gooooddd ahhhhhhhh really my vibe once again 🤭 the chorus is so cute <3 and nine and junji in the bridge 😮💨 i am levitating 🕴 tbh i see it as a perfect chiller title track too, if ooo had made a bright, cute concept, the genre of vibes that love 119 by riize and inbloom by zerobaseone are for example, but chiller 🤔 also, I CAN HEAR MY MAN YOOJUNG CLEARLY HERE THANK U

time for my current ranking:

O

gravity

dOpamine

give me the lOve, bitxx

in conclusion, i really missed my boys ☹ more than i thought i did tbh! i'm so happy we finally have new music from them 🫶🏻 there's no better way to start the new year~

this is all for now because i am too tired to write anything more 😴

let me know your thoughts!! 🫶🏻

#i might have written things that do not make sense #have mercy on my two braincells #onlyoneof #jothingz

[pealeii]

ok only if you want but can yuppie give me a rundown of the les mis fandom/ characters? Like who is enjolras and why do people ship him with the guy whose name starts with g and ends with taire? Idk I remember the plot of valjean stealing bread then taking care of a dead lady's daughter while running from the worst cop ever add the daughter like falls in love with eddie redmayne but i remember none of the freedom guys lol.

Again, only if you want to but i keep seeing les mis on my dash and I'm genuinely curious!

HAHAHAHA OKAY

I don’t feel super qualified to answer this cuz I haven’t read all of the book yet, but I LOVE the musical and thank you for indulging me cuz this musical has my heart, body, and soul

So your first question is about Enjolras and Grantaire. One of the storylines in Les Mis is about the June Rebellion, which was an anti-monarchist uprising (that actually happened irl but that’s besides the point.) In the show, Enjolras is the intense and passionate leader of this revolution. He has a bunch of friends who have joined in his cause. One of them is Marius (played by Eddie Redmayne in the 2012 movie) who falls in love with this girl (Cosette) who happens to be the adoptive daughter of a known convict. But we’ll get to that later. So Marius comes in being all “I’M IN LOVE” and Enjolras is like “NO WTF I DONT CARE STICK TO THE PROGRAM WE ARE TRYING TO REVOLT 👏 AGAINST 👏 THE 👏MONARCHS 👏 AND FREE 👏 THE 👏 PEOPLE”

So Enjolras is all revolution, no nonsense. And all the other schoolboys (the barricade boys) are on his side. But then there’s Grantaire, who believes in nothing and is constantly drunk. Depending on the version, but in the book especially, it’s pretty clear that he is hopelessly in love with Enjolras. Again, Enjolras is taking none of that cuz he’s in love with France. In the book, there’s an interaction between them where Enjolras says “You don’t believe in anything.” And Grantaire says “I believe in you.”

So the rebellion culminates in the boys building a massive barricade, waiting there to fight the soldiers that oppose them, for the freedom of the people. No matter how passionate and strong-willed the boys of the revolution are, it is sadly hopeless. The soldiers and policeman kill them. The last one to die is Enjolras, triumphant till the end. But wait! While the guards are closing in on Enjolras, who pops up, drunk and out-of-it but GRANTAIRE HIMSELF. He goes over and asks if he can stand by Enjolras (“Permets-tu?” in the original French book. Which roughly means “Do you permit it?”) They take each other’s hands and DIE TOGETHER so no wonder ppl ship them.

As for Marius and the girl he likes. The girl is Cosette, whose mother was a woman living in poverty and fending for herself named Fantine. She could not take care of Cosette, so a kind man named Jean Valjean took her as his own. And Fantine passes :(

But a lil thing about Jean Valjean is that he stole some bread to save his sister’s child but was CAUGHT so he spent 19 years imprisoned. After that, his porale began but it WASNT ENOUGH cuz the guy who oversaw those prisoners was INSPECTOR JAVERT, a man who made it his life mission (he thinks it was God-ordained as well) to track down and capture Jean Valjean. So Jean Valjean has been relentlessly pursued by Javert ever since. And when Valjean finally gets the chance to end Javert’s life and end this chase, he spares him, shows him mercy. Javert, in his dedication to the law and his ONE mission, cannot take this mercy, and throws himself off a bridge. :{

The barricade boys have fallen, Javert has fallen. And eventually, Valjean will be taken from the world as well.

And Cosette and Marius get married yayyyyyyy

#woah this is WAY longer than i meant #it to be #this is by no means the whole plot #answered asks #rook :) #les mis #<- sure i’ll tag it #suicide mention

[venusandsaturnsrings]

sorry for the break but im back ueueue

got me thinking,,, do u ever think that incel diluc has some sort of savior complex rooted from the whole dark knight hero thing from canon? like i imagine that when he was running that bar, he'd have cases of people getting roofied and nearly taken advantage of and saves them, not mentioning that more than 3/4s of those cases were paid staff he hired personally,,,,

then when u came along strutting in with ur colorful attire and cheeky grin, dilucs mouth nearly waters and he has since decided to plan the most elaborate rescue to have u in his palms. he doesn't immediately save u when u were dragged out and stuffed into the van, he tracks u down (more like just drives through the abandoned warehouse he obviously rented for this masterpiece) and times his entrance just right so that he can stop it just as u were about to be disrobed. he knows he's won this when he sees ur thankful eyes, mascara running down ur tear streaked cheeks and pupils heart shaped at ur gallant savior.

honestly i see him justifying this with no one being really hurt in the end, and sometimes treat it as some sort of extreme sport.

idk sorry im really bad with other charas that aren't childe aaa

OOOOOOOOOH my love... you always feed me so so yummy... i'm never opposed to childe content EVER since he's almost all i talk about but diluc is so yum too... emotionally constipated red-head man <3 responding to this with @teyvatmoon in mind...

PLEASE READ THE TAGS ON THIS, IT'S A WEE BIT DARK

Diluc could justify anything and its somewhat of a talent. it's gotten him out of plenty sticky situations and is partially what has kept his reputation so very shiny. what kind of respected figure can't smooth talk and pull excuses from their ass? none of them. Diluc can do whatever 'horrible' things he wants as long as he can paint them as 'honorable' instead. who would go against the twenty-three year old student and business owner? no one with a brain, that's for sure.

since owning a café on campus was wildly successful in the day time, it was only the natural progression of things for Diluc to obtain a liquor license to host events in the evening. such after-hours happenings weren't frequent since it always took a lot of work and a lot of staff but he was happy to provide a space on campus for people to drink since, for everyone but you, it was safer. prior to starting these monthly events it took a lot of work with both the university, himself, and city representatives but Diluc is beyond charming when he sees fit. sorting out rules and standards was like nothing to the young man and so, every last Friday of the month, he'd host drinking at was usually a calm café.

you and your friends had frequented there during the day for quite sometime now so it was no surprise when you all began showing up to these monthly binge drinking sessions. it was nice to attend such an event somewhere you were already so familiar with in the day time. it didn't take long for you and the rest of your group to warm up to the place. perhaps for you, it was too fast.

the buildings front was a large glass garage door that would be rolled up in the hot months to create better airflow since there was no air conditioning and it also allowed for more people to hand about the area with extended seating. being September it wasn't quite cold enough for it to be necessary for the door to close and thus it was still left open. students milled about the whole area drinking and laughing. you had decided to wear something a bit more revealing and daring this evening just for fun, well, what was supposed to be fun.

the skimpy and fully pink outfit had definitely garnered stares; hungry ones. such a head-turning outfit surely had more than just Diluc staring desperately. this... choice... of yours simply furthered the righteous feelings brewing in his heart. he was excited and many surly mistook the slight upturn of his lips as love for his work when really it was love for you. it was hard for even such a self controlled man as him not to stare at your tits, ass, thighs, stomach, or any other expanse of skin his eyes could find. your plump flesh was everything to him and he was certainly going to savour this first night of many in which he'd indulge in such a beautiful body. Diluc had almost entirely zoned out on you up until you had finally come to him grinning and asking for a drink. whatever he recommended, you said. his dick jumped at the words. well, he certainly did have something extra special to make for you. the drink was a deep purple colour, bordering on black, and glittering. it smelled of alcohol as well as a cacophony of berries. it tasted almost better than it looked. the only thing that would've made it better was a less salty and bitter taste but Diluc had given it to you on the house so no real complaints could be made. the drink as well as the evening was gone in what felt like seconds.

you had stumbled around back near the parking lot for some air and to text your friends only to remember you had handed off your phone and wallet to one of your friends with pockets in their outfit as you had none. it only took that one moment of disorientation for you to feel as though your body was being twisted and wrung out in every direction. in a way, you were. the hard landing on metal barely covered in cheap blankets did nothing to soothe the growing panic and nausea filling your body. you squirmed in every direction and cried as loud as you could but the hands trying and holding you down never ceased. the latex gloved hands all smelled of rubbing alcohol and all the voices sounded like venom. you were wholly convinced this was where you'd die. the roughhousing that ensued upon the van stopping was almost worse. being thrown on the ground and dragged over sharp gravel and nails would've made you worried about tetanus if there wasn't a knife right against the back of your throat. you heard doors slam and felt your body slam. this was the final time you were to be thrown but also the first time it had caused you to throw up.

the bile rose up your throat quickly. the salty and acidic liquid that rose up ended up covering part of your front and all of the floor in front of you. the group of men merely laughed at you. mocking how you're so weak and useless. can't even hold it together enough to not make yourself sick, they crooned. their hands, however, never let up on their assault of roaming your body. you thought perhaps they expected this and the gloves were a preemptive measure. with your head still spinning and stomach churning you almost felt upset about the masks you could now see obscuring their faces. 'cowards,' you thought. they paused. did you say that aloud? ah. you're really fucked now.

the chunk of wood that flew across the room and hit one of them hard in the nose startled you. with a heavy head, you turned to see him. Diluc. so he had piped up to insult them and he had come to save you; if the gun in his hand was pointed at them the way you thought it was. it didn't take long for the under-armed group to flee and Diluc to land by your side. concern was etched all over his features as he gently untied and helped you up. he didn't seem to mind the vomit getting on him at all. it was sweet in a gross way.

he took you back to his very nice home, after a brief trip to urgent care for aforementioned needed tetanus shot, to have you properly cleaned up and given a mix of medicines that should alleviate the drugs running through you rather quickly. his hands were soft and human. not a touch of latex or a whiff of rubbing alcohol. his arms felt safe. Diluc held you until you slept that night, more than pleased with how things turned out. you'd be his now and the extra jack-off material he got from recording the whole ordeal could stay a secret. that was his guilty pleasure. <3

#cw: vomit #cw: noncon #cw: kidnapping #cw: incel #cw: misogyny #cw: stalker #cw: manipulation #cw: abuse #incel diluc #diluc x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin smut #chit chats