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tieronecrush · 4 months

Text

office party

javier peña x f!reader

summary: your friend with benefits, javier, is your plus one for your dreaded office holiday party. when a coworker gets a bit too comfortable, javier steps in and shows you exactly how he feels about you.

rating: M

wc: 2.3k

warnings: alcohol use, mentions of sex, inappropriate advances from coworker, fwb, probably missing some so lmk what!!

a/n: my contribution to @pedrostories secret santa event!! was a busy holiday season so i wish i could have done more but excited to participate nonetheless. i hope you enjoy @flightlessangelwings and happy holidays to you!!! and tysm my love @northernbluess for proofing

dividers by @saradika

“Christ, where is he? Gettin’ freezing out here…” you mumble to yourself, gritted through your teeth as you stand shivering in your party attire — a tasteful black velvet cocktail dress, hem stopping a couple of inches above your knees and long sleeves with a sweetheart neckline. Fidgeting with your charm necklace, you nervously scan the entrance stairs to the history museum for the familiar face.

It’s the night before your office lets out for the holidays, and it’s also the night they host their annual holiday party. Even though it was quite the affair and your large law firm spares no expense for the event, you never really looked forward to being confronted with colleagues in ways you didn’t need to see them, and there was usually one man who would hit on you. Open bar, catered food, always in a gorgeous venue, it was a recipe for a great time or a horrible time, depending on your found company for the night. This year was the history museum, one of your favorite spots in the city. The daydreams you’ve had about taking him here pop into your mind like a flash in the pan — fleeting, and simply something to stay as a daydream.

A tinge of reluctance tugs in your gut. Was it weird to ask him here? Is he going to stand you up?

But then, there was Javier. Looking sharp as ever in a suit, one you’ve seen him in once after he stopped by yours after a late night working. Black, with a crisp white shirt and a red tie to fit into the holiday spirit. A smirk plays on his lips when he spots you, taking the stone steps two at a time as he approaches. It had taken a bit of convincing — virtually bribing — to get him to agree to be your plus one for the night, and when he did confirm that he would come along with you, the prospect of the party actually being something more bearable skyrocketed instead of the excruciating evening you usually expect.

“Hey there, querida. Why’re you waiting out in the cold for me? Debe estar congelándose. (You must be freezing.)” Javier greets you with concern knit into his brow, his big brown eyes softened and sparkling in the low streetlight. His large palms find the sides of your arms, rubbing gently to warm you up.

“Didn’t want to get pulled into the abyss alone in there,” you jest, “I don’t know if you’d have been able to find me with all the hiding I have to do from weird coworkers.”

You laugh and Javier chuckles lightheartedly, shaking his head as he relaxes in front of you. Nodding his head toward the door, he follows behind you as you lead with a hand at your lower back.

“Is there anyone I should watch out for specifically tonight? Am I gonna have to act as a bodyguard? Should I tell any of the creeps I have a gun?” Javier’s lips graze your ear as he speaks, keeping close to you when you enter and the sounds of the party erupt. A jolt runs down your spine from the intimate contact. It’s your turn to shake your head, breathing out a laugh as you limply hit your hand against his chest.

Your excitement around seeing Javier and spending more time with him was getting much more frequent and much more intense. Bordering the point where you don’t know if you can keep up the arrangement with the feelings you’re developing for him.

Friends of a few years, there’s always been a flirty undertone between you and Javier. It built up to the point that when everyone had cleared out from a dinner party at your place, Javier stayed behind to help clean up — always a gentleman — and the two of you, admittedly a bit tipsy from the wine that was flowing all night, told each other one a whim that you were attracted to each other. Both free from any ties of old relationships, you fell into an agreement: sex, great sex at that, with no strings attached. You two would remain friends and get exactly what you wanted, which was each other, without the messiness of a relationship. Something you were both jaded from.

These days, however, the lines were starting to blur on your end. Everything he did seemed to tip you further into the deep end before you finally came to terms and accepted that you had completely cannonballed into it.

Javier is a good guy. Didn’t have that reputation around town when you first met, but getting to know him in the wee hours of the morning after a few rounds, you fell fast and hard. It wasn’t until recently that you came to terms with it.

“Nobody needs the interrogation tactics or intimidation tonight, Peña.”

“Okay, okay…Tengo que asegurarme de que te traten bien. (I have to make sure you’re treated right.) One of their best employees, shouldn’t have to put up with the shit, querida.”

The air in the grand entrance of the city’s museum crackles with holiday cheer as festive decorations adorn every corner. Garland hangs around the banisters of the grand staircase that leads further into the museum, but most of the activity is in the large, marble-lined room you both stand in. Nearly every employee seems to be in attendance, people milling about in cliques and others indulging in drinking or dancing.

As both of you saunter toward the bar, the atmosphere softens with each step, the clinking of glasses and the chatter of coworkers weaving together into a cacophony of merriment. Javier grabs you two drinks, a glass of champagne for you and whiskey neat for him, toasting to the night ahead. The clinking of glasses resonates with your unspoken agreement: tonight, like every other night, would end the same way. No strings.

Amidst the swirl of laughter and twinkling lights, and the loosening power of liquor, the boundary between friendship and something deeper becomes increasingly blurred. Flirty comments dance back and forth, charged with an unspoken tension that lingers beneath the surface.

“You look beautiful tonight, cariño. How come I haven’t seen this dress before?” Javier asks, the two of you standing at a cocktail table, alone and enjoying it.

“Guess you’d have to be my plus one more often, Javi. Then you could see all the dresses in my closet,” you counter, smirking playfully and biting back the desire to mention something akin to a real date for both of you.

“Guess so, querida. Might have to make this a regular thing.” Javier sends you a wink before clinking your glasses together in another smaller toast, a smirk painting his face as he lifts the tumbler to his mouth for a sip.

With every exchanged glance and teasing remark, it’s evident that you’re tiptoeing on the edge of uncharted territory, yearning to express feelings that had long been confined. It’s unclear if Javier feels the same, but soft touches and gentle words ply you open even further, teetering with falling completely.

Then, amidst the dance of emotions and flirtations, a coworker appears in the corner of your eye, sauntering toward the table and bursting the privacy bubble that you happily curated with Javier. His name’s Jake, a man around your age who is friendly with you in the office, sociable guy with one of those “winning” personalities the partners would compliment endlessly. A guy’s guy. But one that had no problem approaching the women in the office. With a warm smile, he extends a hand towards the man at your side, introducing himself with an easy charm that seemed almost too perfect — of course, referring to Javier already as his ‘buddy’. The hint of jealousy that flickers across Javier's face doesn’t escape your notice, and you can’t help but feel a tingle of endearment for his slightly soured mood from being interrupted.

As the night progresses, Jake's alcohol-infused attempt at camaraderie with you grows increasingly unwelcome. He’d been watching you like a hawk so far, cutting in whenever Javier left to grab more drinks or when another coworker pulled his attention away to try to pick his brain about all that’s happening in the government right now. Inching closer to you, Jake leans against the hightop table, making conversation with slurred words and uninhibited want behind his eyes.

When you shift slightly away, attempting to remain civil enough at a work event, you feel yourself bump into Javier.

At that moment, Javier turns to see if you tapped him to grab his attention, but is met with the clear look of discomfort on your face. Jake leaning in closer, eyes wandering as you responded in the conversation, clearly attempting to check you out. Frustration toward the man in front of you lit in his chest, holding himself back from confronting him and instead fully embracing his purpose for the night. If he was invited as your date, he could act like it, right?

His arm wraps around you possessively, his lips pressing kisses on your temple, and whispered words meant to keep you close. Surprised at first, but happy to feel closer to him and to relish in the protective boyfriend persona, even if it is only to keep a creep away from you.

Jake, seemingly oblivious to the change in dynamics, spoke up louder, laying a hand on your arm and squeezing, “So you ever wanna cut out of work early and get a drink? Maybe end up back at my place? You can wear that dress.”

The proposition sends a ripple of discomfort through the air. Other coworkers turn away, ignoring the advance that left you shocked and speechless. But, Javier, now fully immersed in his role, takes a stern tone, cutting in and gently maneuvering you behind him.

“Hey, cabrón, why don’t you apologize for speaking to her like that?” Javier instructs, nodding to you while your hands wrap around his arm closest to you. “Or am I going to have to find one of your supervisors and tell them all this shit myself? Don’t speak to her again, or even look at her. And I will know if you do — I’ve got eyes everywhere, buddy.”

The look on Jake’s face makes you laugh softly from behind Javier, shaking your head as he backs away and leaves with his tail between his legs. Javier turns to you, wrapping you up in one of his arms and brushing his fingers softly against your cheek.

Concern softens his eyes, the same look that he greeted you with when he found you waiting in the cold, “You alright, cariño? Fucking asshole. You shouldn’t have to deal with that, should report him or something.”

“I’m alright, Javi. Thank you…You didn’t have to—”

Javier shakes his head, smiling with one side of his mouth and kissing your forehead, “‘Course I did. Can’t let anyone talk to you like that.”

You lean into his chest and smile, lightening the mood with a playful comment, “Seemed pretty comfortable being threatening. Did it bring you back to the good ol’ days being a sheriff?”

Ever the master of evasion, Javier shrugs it off with a casual demeanor, attempting to maintain the façade of indifference with a nod, “Sure did. But they weren’t the good ol’ days.”

Hearing the smile in his voice causes a wave of affection for him that washes over you, coming to the realization that it’s either now or never. A surge of courage propels you to take the leap, confessing the fact that you see more with Javier, that you want more with him.

“I know we said no strings, and it was like that at first, but the more I’ve gotten to know you, the more I’ve found that I love you. And you can absolutely walk away and nothing will be held against you, but I can’t keep up with this if I can’t tell you how I feel.”

The atmosphere between you shifts, and for a moment, the world seems to stop entirely.

Javier's eyes softened, and with a sincerity that catches you off guard, he shares a confession too, “Querida, I fell in love with you in the first moment I met you. The second I kissed you for the first time was when I realized it. I thought maybe I could keep it all in, ‘cause I didn’t want to lose you as a friend and just as a part of my life, but I love you, cariño. Have since I heard that laugh of yours and saw that gorgeous smile. And I haven’t felt the same way I feel about you for anyone else before.”

In that moment of vulnerability, the boundaries that confined your actions shatter, opening up a door, wide and clear, for you to walk through and never close.

Away from the crowded party, you find yourselves standing in a doorway adorned with sprigs of mistletoe, a symbol of serendipity. Under the soft glow of the festive lights, Javier takes a step closer, and his lips meet yours in a gentle, lingering kiss. His hand caresses your cheek, one arm wrapping around your waist while yours rest around his neck, pulling him in for a deeper kiss.

As you break apart, Javier looks into your eyes, a sincerity shining through that mirrored the twinkle of holiday lights.

"I love you," he confesses, the words hanging in the air like the melody of a cherished carol.

“I love you, too,” you return, a glowing smile and feeling giddy for the rest of the holiday season with Javier.

taglist: @northernbluess @atinylittlepain @swiftispunk @joelsversion @mrsmando @ilovepedro @deathwife @undrthelights @atticrissfinch @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @yazsos @peppesgirl @pastawench @addictedtotlou @brittmb115 @anoverwhelmingdin @spishsstuff @wolfbook87 @mswarriorbabe80 @harriedandharassed @decemberdolly @laiisleitte @fierce-bab @vickie5446 @pertinentpostmortem @livingdeadmaria @sullyosully @bitchwitch1981 @its-nebuleuse @marini03 @piercethevic03 @joeandpedrosimp @kiwisbell @planet-marz1 @txtattoostark @jrosie25 @thereaperisabitch @tbniarq @vee-bees-blog @spidermanfrog @belliezz @joelsflannel @k-k0129 @cartoon-garbage04 @bianqueee04 @nostalxgic

#pedrostoriesgift23 #pedrostories #writing #javier #javier peña fic #javier peña x you #javier peña fanfic #javier peña #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña fanfiction #javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena fic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fanfic

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ghostboneswrites2 · 1 month

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hiii! I just wanted to say I absolutely love your fics, you write Daryl so accurate and well 😊 beautiful reads all throughout your page!!

I was wondering if you could write something where daryl comes to like the reader eventually (fem!reader), and she’s shy, keeps her distance, and only is spoke when spoken to, a little like Daryl himself! he then goes to her home to ask her about what stock is needed for foods or something idk haha (Alexandria era) and sees her masturbating through the window, calling out his name, obviously he had no idea she even liked him as she keeps herself to herself. so he joins her, and guides her through it 😉

I hope this is okay to work with if you wanted to use it! Have a great day 🤎🙏🏽

A spider fell on me while I was writing this :') and thank you so much for your compliments they mean the world!!!

Note: OOOOOO SPICYYYYYY

Don't Stutter

18+ MDNI || Warnings: profanity, graphic depictions of masturbation and smut, fingering

No summary needed, request says it all :)

**NSFW GIF BELOW CUT**

He watched from a distance as you strolled through the streets of the peaceful community. Not a single incident in months, how about that? It was nice to relax for a while.

Deanna had put a halt on recruiting for a while, after the attack by the Wolves, so Daryl had kind of been twiddling his thumbs, begging for an excuse to leave beyond the walls. He felt so closed up.

He had too much time on his hands, too much room in his brain for thoughts and feelings. He didn't like it. Ever since he stopped going out, he crossed your path often. You were quiet, shy even. You rarely spoke up unless spoken to. You didn't make eye contact often, if at all. But most of all, you were beautiful. From your head to your toes. He'd often find himself admiring your (hair length) (hair color) hair. It framed your face perfectly. When the sun would shine just right, your (skin tone) skin would glow in ways he hadn't noticed before.

Your body was something else entirely. The shape of you drove him nuts. The way your ass swayed when you walked. You didn't even have to try, you were effortlessly seductive.

He gulped as you walked up your steps and went inside. He wondered how hard it would be to initiate a conversation, to get to know you. He shook his head. Surely that was a foolish idea. As a whole, he had bigger things he needed to be worried about. So, surely asking you about something important would be harmless, right?

You worked at the pantry with Olivia, who had mentioned to him recently that they'd need to stock up soon. He decided to ask you to make him a list. Then, he'd get to talk to you, and he'd have an excuse to go on a run. Two birds, one stone, right? Right. He sucked in a breath of confidence and strode to your door. He went to knock but his fist stopped just centimeters from the door.

"Oh.." He heard you whine. Were you crying? He tried to peek through the tall slender windows on either side of your door. The glass was lightly frosted, so the image was blurry, but he could make out a silhouette on the couch.

"Daryl.." You moaned out louder. His heart stopped. His neck and ears heated ashe gulped. Were you...?

----

You stared at the sidewalk as you walked home from work. You couldn't get the image out of your mind. Daryl was there earlier, rearranging shelves for you and Olivia. In his tight black button up shirt, his muscles bulged against the fabric, aching to bust out. Or, maybe you were just aching to bust them out. Either way, your lustful mind couldn't get enough. The visual was painted vividly in your mind's eye, and you'd be storing it permanently in your vault of lewd thoughts about the quiet archer.

The entire rest of your shift was spent silently fantasizing about all the ways you'd let him use and abuse you, if only he wanted anything to do with you. You'd never even spoken to him, beyond a quiet and polite thank you or a curt nod in passing. By the time you made it to your door, you were throbbing between your legs. You couldn't hold it back. You didn't even care to scurry up the stairs and hide away in your bed. No, you simply threw your pants to the ground and sprawled out on the couch, slipping your fingers right inside your panties.

You started with a gentle trace up and down your slit with a single finger. You stared up at the ceiling, using your imaginary paintbrush to paint a picture on the white canvas. Images of Daryl, his arms, his hands, the way he walked, each drag of a cigarette.

You got worked up pretty fast. You got tired of teasing yourself. Wasn't lusting over an unattainable man torture enough?

You slipped a finger inside yourself and sucked in a sharp breath, using your wetness to rub circles over your clit. "Oh..." You whined, closing your eyes, picturing his fingers in place of your own. You sped up the pace a little, rocking your hips as the tension began to build. You pictured the way he'd look down at you if he were there instead of your fingers. How he'd hold you still so you couldn't wiggle out of his grasp, how he'd make you cum until you begged him to stop, and he'd probably keep going.

"Daryl.." You moaned out, feeling a knot build in your abdomen. You were getting so close.

----

He listened closely. You were moaning, that was for sure, but all he could see through the foggy windows was a blob on the couch that appeared to be moving.

Fuck it, he thought. The tension was killing him. If you were moaning his name in there, there was no reason for him to hold back and be polite. He only hoped he could catch you in the act.

He carefully grabbed the doorknob, hoping you wouldn't hear him. He twisted softly, and when he realized it wasn't locked, he pushed the door open.

You jumped up and pulled your hand out of your panties, startled and wide-eyed as you stared at him. Shame washed over you as he gazed at you, pushing the door shut behind him.

"Daryl.." You breathed quietly. Your heart was beating so fast your chest could explode. He made slow steps over to you. Each thump of his boots on your floor made you flinch. "W-What are you doing..?"

He glanced down at your wet panties and back up to you as he approached, towering over where you sat on the couch.

"Could be askin' you the same." He rasped. You gulped.

"I was just--"

"You were sayin' my name." He cut you off. Your eyes grew wide. So, he definitely heard you.

"No I wasn't." You lied.

"Mm." He hummed. "Sure sounded like it."

"Well even if I was you shouldn't be eavesdropping at my front--"

"Shh." He hushed, tracing a calloused finger over your lips and down the front of your throat, hooking it on the collar of your shirt. His gaze was predatory, scanning down your body with a sense of starvation that made you tremble.

He dragged another finger up your thigh, sending shivers up your spine. He admired the goosebumps that raised on your soft skin in the wake of his touch. His eyes met yours.

"Tell me to stop and I will." He whispered. Your eyes widened as he leaned in and fluttered shut as his lips brushed against yours. You gasped into the kiss as he snapped with elastic of your underwear against your skin. He pulled back and peered down between your legs. You hadn't told him to stop, but he still hoped his next move would be okay. "Lemme see."

"W-What?"

"Lemme see." He repeated, tugging at the hem of your panties. You were too nerve stricken to act, so you just nodded.

Slowly, he dragged your panties down your thighs and held them up with a nearly invisible smirk. You glanced at the wet spot and blushed shamefully. "All for me?" He teased.

He spread your legs wide.

"Show me." He instructed. Your eyebrows met in confusion. "Show me how ya play with yourself." He clarified.

"I-- I don't.."

"Don't get nervous on me now. Sounded like ya had it under control just a minute ago."

With a shaky hand, you reached between your legs and aimlessly traced a circle over your clit with a single finger, never looking away from his face. He watched you for a minute and shook his head.

"Stop." He ordered. You did. You gasped as he traced his own finger right down your slit one time. "Like this..." He took your finger back to your clit and guided it, gentle laps around your clit causing your hips to jerk. "Now, do it just like that."

You continued as he took his hand away, holding back the noises that threatened to escape. You kept asking yourself what you were doing, if this was even real.

He admired the show for some time, but it became quickly apparent you'd never make yourself cum with him watching like that. You were too nervous and clumsy. You couldn't keep a rhythm and you faltered every time you started to build yourself up to a climax. He gently pulled your hand to the side again.

"Need some help?" He offered. You didn't respond. "Need an answer, darlin'."

You hesitantly nodded.

"Mm. Gon' need more than that." He taunted cockily. You nodded quicker this time, eagerness in your eyes. He smirked. "That's more like it.." He cooed, tracing his fingers up and down your clit gently. You let out a tiny whine.

Between him cutting you off right before you came earlier, and all those times you almost came trying to masturbate in front of him, you were so sensitive, and he could tell. Your clit was swollen and red and every little touch made you jolt and writhe.

"Don't hold out on me. Let me know ya like it." He said as he slipped a finger inside you. You gasped and moaned as he massaged you, slipping a second finger in when he found your sweet spot. You bit down on your bottom lip and rolled your hips. Your moans grew louder and more confident as pleasure crept over you. That bashful, reserved girl from the pantry was quickly melting away, leaving you in a raw, lustful, dirty state.

Your eyes closed as your head fell back on the couch. His thumb pressed down on your clit as his fingers worked carefully inside. You moaned again as his rough thumb traced skillful circles over the sensitive area.

"Say my name." He ordered.

"Daryl.." You moaned shamelessly. He smirked.

"Again."

"Daryl." You whined. He was getting you close.

"Look at me." He demanded.

You opened your eyes and watched him. Your eyelids were lazy and your eyes were glazed and sex drunk.

"Say it."

"Daryl." You squeaked. You were so close. That knot in your stomach was back, tied so tight that the rope was begging to snap.

"What's my name?"

"Daryl." You breathed.

"C'mon, darlin.' Ya wanna cum or not?"

"Daryl... Daryl.."

"That's it." He slowed his pace to a stop, leaving you right at the edge.

"Daryl!" You whined and pouted.

He ignored your plea and pulled your shirt over your head before he tugged your bra down to expose your breasts. Your nipples were hard and bumps littered your skin as the cold air conditioning hit them. He pinched one hard, eliciting a small cry. He played with them a little before he slipped his fingers back inside you and worked his thumb over your clit again. You shuttered and exhaled a shaky moan. That was like, the fourth or fifth time your orgasm was cut off right before it started. It was torture. Painful, blissful, pleasurable torture.

You flinched and squirmed against his fingers, walls clenching and pulsating around his fingers, making it a little harder for him to work them. Nonetheless, he pressed on.

"Look at me." He demanded. You obeyed. Your eyes welled up with tears as he built you back up.

"Please..."You begged.

"Please, what?"

"Please, Daryl."

"Wha'd'ya want?"

"Please, Daryl. I wanna cum."

Triumph washed over him as you begged.

"I'm so close." You whispered.

"Then say it."

"Daryl." You cried.

"Again."

"D-Daryl.."

"Don't stutter."

"Daryl!" You moaned loud. A wave washed over you as you finally reached the climax. Your body shuddered, legs shaking as you moaned and writhed. He kept going until you rode the entirety of your high, only stopping when he was sure you couldn't take anymore.

He looked down at the wet stain between your legs where the couch cushion soaked up all your cum, save for the mess all over his fingers. You shook and whined as he pulled his fingers out, watching with your mouth hung open as he sucked them clean and licked his lips.

"Next time, just ask." He whispered as he kissed your forehead and left your house.

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tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow

#daryl x reader #twd daryl #daryl dixon #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #daryl twd #daryl x you #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon smut #mdni #18+ mdni #minors dni #not safe for minors #no minors allowed #smut

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neopuppy · 11 months

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Hi 😊 hope you're doing well. Can I ask for just the tip scenario with jaemin please 💙 love your work.

think of this as…..a teaser of something to come in the future☺️💚

warnings: ‘just the tip’, unprotected penetration

“I thought you said she was special for a newbie.”

Jaemin’s glaring at you, arms crossed over his chest annoyed with his ankles mimicking the same position. Only to further intimidate you, test your will and see just how serious you are about this.

“She is.” Johnny’s quick to confirm, quickly shooting him a stern look before moving to stand in front of you and hide you with his larger frame. “Don’t listen to anything he says.”

“I’m still sore from yesterday..” you try to whisper, Jeno standing nearby scratching at his nape shyly.

“Sorry…” he mouths, shrugging and smiling sheepishly.

“Do you want to reschedule?” Johnny’s assuring as always, squeezing your shoulders to calm you. “We don’t have to film today if you’re not up to it.”

Jaemin’s mumbling curses under his breath, tightening the sash around his waist, robe concealing more of his chest. “This is bullshit.”

“No no..” you know Jaemin’s pissed off, rolling his eyes behind Johnny’s back while repeating ‘special my ass’. “Can’t we just, I don’t know.. take things slow?”

“We’re shooting a gonzo scene, how the hell do you imagine we can take things slow!” Jaemin moves to stand next to you, his expression clearly filled with frustration. “This is stupid Johnny! We’re wasting filming time.”

“We can always rework the filming style, nothings set in stone alright? Calm it down.”

“What if we..” Jaemin’s eyebrows furrow at the sound of your voice, teeth gritted between his lips. “A little at a time, you know.. slow.”

Jeno clears his throat, continuing to set up the camera’s position. “Just the tip scenes do great from what I’ve seen, just saying.”

“Just the tip?” Johnny’s eyebrow cocks up, slowly nodding. “POV Just The Tip….innocent slut struggles to take a 9 inch cock for the first time.” His fingers snap, nodding and smiling. “You think you can handle that?”

Jaemin smirks over his shoulder for only you to see, tongue dragging between his teeth as if daring you to back down.

“I can do it.”

Johnny nods, tugging you into his side to whisper against your hair. “I won’t get mad if you can’t.”

Tucking into his chest you double check that Jaemin’s moved away, wrapping around Johnny’s waist. “Is it really 9?”

He laughs at that, stroking your waist through the robe. “Nothing you haven’t handled before.”

He’s right, between filming with Johnny and Jeno you’ve been put through thicker and bigger than you fathomed to be possible, but Jaemin..

As if on cue he unties the sash around his trim waist, eyeing you from your toes up to the anxious look you give him in return. Grinning slightly he bites down on the corner of his lip, robe dropped down leaving himself completely bare, length half hard dangling between his upper thigh and pelvic bone.

Fuck.

Tugging himself to full mass his brows lift at you suggestively, as if to say ‘you next’.

The settings simple today, nothing plot heavy, plain set only for the purpose of close-up shots, a few cameras set up around to capture your lower halves connecting, Jeno handling a handheld camera for up-above shots from Jaemin’s point of view. It’s different, and as you approach the edge of the couch in front of him you remind yourself that this has to do good. It’s only your second week working at Suh Films, and the last thing you plan to do is let Johnny down so soon after taking a chance on you.

“Jeno fuck you too good yesterday?” Jaemin asks, low toned, grabbing onto the knotted up sash keeping your figure covered. “You know, if you can’t handle a little pain..”

“I can.”

“He’s not really..” Jaemin leans in, licking at your earlobe. “As thick as me.” Untying your robe, he steps closer and grips onto your waist, fingers digging into your sides purposefully to manhandle you onto the couch, robe completely slipping off in the process.

Gripping around your knees, he hoists you closer until half of your ass hangs from the edge, shoving your legs into place until you sit spread open, feet curled against the couches ledge and your palms flat to support your balance.

A sadistic thrill runs through his chest, inspecting your swollen core. Jeno really had done a number on you, fucking like a horny teenager finally nailing his wet dream. Palming down your inner thighs, he pulls your center open with his thumbs, wet folds spreading out met with the cool air filling the room.

“You’ll let me put it in a little, right?” He asks, no longer whispering. The cameras rolling not even crossing your mind, too engrossed in each flex of muscle rippling through his chest and arms. The dumb whiny nod you give is all he needs to grip around the base of his length, girth appearing ridiculous in thickness surrounded by his fingers.

Smoothing his thumb between your folds, he bends at the knee, the tip of his length swiping between to smear arousal up to your clit. Slit sucking at the bundles of nerves with each slow pass.

“Too wet for a whore that can’t take a big cock.” Jaemin sneers, tip pushing down a glob of wetness back to your entrance, the sound of it bubbling out embarrassingly loud.

“I can..”

“Oh yeah?” His teeth poke out, hiding back a smile as he pushes down against your resistant opening, having to suck back a hiss at the first bit of his length making it inside. “Fuck that’s tight.”

Jaemin whispers too low for the cameras to pick up, zoned in on the tip of his length struggling to push past the pulsating band sucking around him.

He keeps still for a second, inhaling short deep breaths as the veins lining his rod thrum violently, hungry for more. “Need in this pussy.”

Chewing at his bottom lip for a minute, his cockhead dips in and out furiously; stomach muscles contorting with every snap of your entrance around him. Focusing on your cunt gripping around his size, the stretch too painful to even look at. Heat scorches between his thighs, balls tightening up forcing him to tear his gaze away, distracting himself with your mouth, hung open and panting.

“Can you take more?”

#nct hard hours #nct smut #nct dream smut #jaemin drabbles #anon #jaemin hard hours

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mountainsandmayhem · 14 days

Note

congrats on 500!! 💗

ILYSM!! could you write this drabble we were talking about😈 a lazy Sunday morning riding Joel..he says something like “use your daddy” and/or “that’s my girl.” thank you daddy 🤭😂

Sunday With Your Dad’s Best Friend

18+

DBF!Joel x Fem!Reader

AN: thank you baby for this great request. I hope this lives up to your expectations 🩵. Did I proof read this? No, of course I didn’t. ✌🏻 YOLO.

CW: I don’t want to give away too much, but wrap it up (be better than these two) use of nicknames and based on the ask one of those nicknames is daddy.

Joel freakin Miller. Your dad’s best friend and your secret hook up for the past few months. Sunday mornings with Joel might be your favourite. Your parents think you’re at work, but instead, you park your car in his garage and spend the day flirting, cuddling and fucking.

It’s a beautifully warm summer morning, Joel is sitting on a pool lounge chair in his backyard, long legs stretched out, one ankle crossed over the other. He’s in mid thigh length neon green shorts that accentuate his tan, and no shirt. Sun kissing his chest, and it feels weird to be jealous of UV rays that get to touch him in places that are only for you.

He glances up over his book to watch you swimming laps in his pool. The water glistens off your bare back and ass, legs fluttering gracefully beneath the water. As you reach the end furthest away from him you dive under, spinning your body and pushing off the wall to swim back towards him. As you come up to the surface you spin onto your back, cherry pink nipples skimming the surface as you backstroke through the water. He’s never been more thankful for all the tall trees and bushes he planted to make his backyard completely secluded from his neighbours.

Joel puts his book and reading glasses down as your naked body ascends the steps of the pool in front of him. He crosses his toned arms and tilts his head to the side, eyes watching the water droplets run down your body, pooling in the curvy areas he loves so much.

“Gonna get a sunburn if you aren’t careful, baby girl,” he says, concern and arousal fighting each other in his voice.

You blink at him, gathering your hair to the side and squeezing out the water. “Yes, daddy.” You tease, water splashing against the hot paving stone of the pool deck.

He shakes his head and smirks, a dimple forming on his cheek, highlighted by the sun glinting off his greying facial hair. “Careful with that nickname, darlin’.”

Baby girl and darlin’ in a matter of minutes has you itching to get your hands on him. “You just called me two nicknames back to back. That’s cheating.”

“Cheatin’, hey? How so?” His voice has dropped an octave, and that’s almost worse than a nickname.

You wander over to the table beside him where your towel sits. You reach out for your towel as you say, “Makes me want you.”

Joel grabs your wrist, his large, strong hand easily circling the tapered part of your arm. “That right? Someone feelin’ needy,” he pauses before adding, “Sweetheart.”

A little whimper escapes your throat as his coffee and brown sugar-speckled eyes wash over you.

“Tell me what you need,” he says, pulling gently to stand beside him. Your eyes flick down to the tent forming under his swim trunks.

“Can I…” you start, voice shaky and shy.

“Don’t be shy, baby girl. I’m yours, remember?” You nod as he continues, “And you’re mine. So anything you want. Anything.”

You shut your eyes and take a slow breath, perky breasts rising and falling close to Joel’s face as his thumb caresses the smooth inside of your wrist as a form of silent encouragement. “I wanna ride you.”

You open your eyes to see Joel smiling proudly at you. “Good girl,” he hums, releasing your wrist and slipping his swim trunks off. His cock is hard as nails from just the sight of you, he leans back in his lounger - not quite sitting at a full 90 degrees.

“Come on, baby. Straddle me,” his hands come to your hips as you stretch one leg over him and then down onto his lap. His thick shaft rests between your bodies, your pussy sliding along him as you sit. Your clit twitches with every vein and ridge.

Your hand's card through his hair as his hands move to the globes of your ass, encouraging you to grind along him. You lower your face to him, kissing him slowly as you buck your hips back and forth. You swallow the deep moan that passes his lips, slanting your head and licking along his bottom lip.

He kneads the curves of your ass, “more,” you whimper.

He lifts you slightly, then brings one hand to his cock, pumping it a few times before teasing your clit when the head, pre cum leaks from the slit and he spreads along your already soaked and silky cunt.

“Shit, darlin’, so wet already,” he whispers, sliding the head to tease at your tight entrance.

This is your favourite part, the painful little stretch when he first pushes himself in. He always gives you time to adjust before fucking you, today is no different as he pushes your hips down to swallow all of him. You cry out as you settle onto him and his lips crash into yours to stifle you. “Sshhh, the neighbours could be out,” he mumbles into your lips, chest heaving as he adjusts to your tightness choking him.

“Sorry, just feels so good,” you moan quietly.

“I know, baby girl. I know.” His strong hands massage at the creases of your hips. “This what you needed? Me buried deep inside that beautiful little pussy?”

You feel the walls of your pussy flutter around him. Joel is good with his hands and tongue and has the perfect sized cock for you, but it’s his filthy mouth that usually starts that familiar ache to build at the base of your spine.

“Yes,” you huff, slowly grinding into him.

“I can tell. So tight for me. Can feel you fluttering around me already.” Your hands move from his hair to his broad shoulders, using them to leverage yourself so you can get better momentum to slide back and forth.

“Oh god, Joel,” you coo. The ache turns into bubbling lava.

“Kiss me,” he says, strong arms winding around you and pulling you into his chest. You kiss him deeply, tongues lazily flicking against each others as you glide your hips back and forth against him. At this new angle, the soft part of his lower body hits your clit, the slight curve in his cock hitting that spongy part that makes you weak and boneless.

All of the movements from you and Joel are slow and soft, almost lazy. Neither in a rush to orgasm or to get to the next part of your day. This is all that matters right now.

Joel breaks the kiss, hand sliding up your back to the nape of your neck, gently encouraging you to turn your face so he can kiss along your jawline toward that soft part below your ear. “That’s my girl,” he says quietly, just for you to hear. “Use your daddy to cum.”

Your body jerks faster, the bubbling lava close to the eruption point. He lets you move at your own pace, flicking your hips once, twice, and three more times before you feel it. “Good girl, let go,” his teeth graze your earlobe as you fall apart.

You bury your face in his neck. Whispering his name, body going slack. He takes over, hands gripping your lips tightly and moving them in the same pattern you were.

“Oh fuck….yes, daddy. Please,” you’re a whispering, mumbling mess as the pleasure waves through you. The sensitive hard bud at the top of your cunt twitching and pulsing with each graze of his belly. “Don’t stop, Joel. Please - please don’t stop.”

“I know, sweetheart. I got you,” he doesn’t speed up, doesn’t slow down; he does exactly as you ask. “That’s my good girl. So fuckin’ pretty when you cum.”

“Fill me. Fill me, please.” You whine, kissing the crook of his neck.

“Fuck. Shit, baby girl.” He says, head falling back to the lounger. You pull back to watch him. Eyes clenched tight and mouth slightly agape. Small beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

“Look at me,” you whisper, slowly retaking control of your body, swivelling your hips into him. His soft brown eyes peel open, dancing around your face. “Please, Joel.”

“Call me daddy,” he moans, his dick getting harder as you ride him.

“Please, daddy. I’ve been such a good girl. Fill me.” You say sweetly, just the way he likes it, before sucking your bottom lip between your teeth.

Joel’s breath hitches as his hips stutter, hands clamping down on your hips to still you. “Shit, yes. Yes. Oh fuck, you’re so good for daddy.” His cock jumps and twitches inside you as ropes of cum coat you, marking you and claiming you as his.

As he comes down he pulls you onto his chest, lips kissing lightly along the hairline of your forehead. “God damn, little one. I love when you talk dirty to me like that.”

You nuzzle deeper into his warm chest. “Noted…daddy.”

A deep growl fills his chest. “I’m still inside you, careful with that nickname.”

“I’m having Deja Vu,” you joke.

“As soon as I get control of my legs, I’m takin’ you inside and lickin’ that little pussy clean in the shower,” Joel says matter of factly.

You giggle, “Anything you say, daddy.”

#joel miller #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #joel the last of us #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller x reader #joel x oc #joel x f!reader #joel x female reader #joel x y/n #joel x you #joel miller x f!reader #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel

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str4ngergirlw0rld · 1 month

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you loved and cared for eddie munson when you were 12 , now he hates you.

wc-2300 ish

pt 2 to bully eddie

Hawkins High School was far from picturesque. In your humble opinion, you despised it. At the age of 12, you had high hopes for high school - thinking it would be your golden age, your stepping stone to greatness. However, from freshman year onwards, you were miserable. Eddie Munson, two years your senior, made sure of that. He flunked his senior year not once, but twice, leaving you as his target for six long years. Eddie, the dungeon master of the hellfire club, was no stranger to bullying himself, but he took pleasure in tormenting you, the shy girl at Hawkins High. It was a shame that not even Eddie Munson would befriend you - you must have been a terrible person to be around.

"Peppy, please just consider this," Nancy pleaded. "It's your senior year, and we only have two weeks left of school. That's 10 days, 10 whole days you can really cherish." Peppy was your nickname, given to you because of your love for Dr. Pepper. You always had a can in hand, and Nancy and Robin couldn't resist calling you that. Despite your reluctance, Nancy had a way of convincing you to do things. She was like literal sunshine, impossible to resist. "Let me think about it, Nance. I can't afford to be humiliated again. Last year was miserable." Of course, you would think about it. Nancy's infectious energy always made you want to join in. "Nancy, can you please come over after school? Bring Robs, and we can discuss this. If I do decide to go, we'll have lots of planning to do." "Of course, see you later, Peppy."

"Rob's, guess what?!" you yell excitedly. "Please tell me you have amazing, awesome news like 'oh my god, the upside down caved in and disappeared,' that would heal me."

"Robin, no, shut up, someone's gonna hear you," you said, glancing around cautiously, hoping no one had heard what she said. Luckily, the halls were empty.

"What's the good news, Peppy?" Andy asked me to prom. Can you believe that? I mean, Robin, I am a freak. I'm a freak at heart. Eddie Munson won't even let me live it down. Robin, do you know how amazing this is?"

"Peppy, really? You're going with Andy? Like, Andy Andy?" Robin's mood matched yours.

"Yeah, Robbie, I'm so excited. I have my dress picked out and everything. It's pink with hints of red and red hearts embroidered on the sleeves," you explained.

"Oh my god, Peppy, that's so good! I'm so happy for you. This will be so, so, so fun. I can't wait. Make sure you let Nancy know. Oh my god, she's gonna be so happy we all get to go together. She's been begging and begging me to find a date," Robin told you.

"Okay, Rob, I'll see you after English. I'll give you a ride home. Love you."

"Love you too, Peppy."

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie Munson lurked around the corner, a scowl etched onto his face, his dark intentions hidden beneath a facade of resentment. He was determined to ensure you wouldn't have a good time at prom, hell-bent on sabotaging any joy you might find. For him, your happiness was an affront he couldn't tolerate, and he was prepared to do whatever it took to ensure your night ended in misery.

"Heeey, Andy. I heard you're going to prom with Y/N," Eddie slyly interjected, his voice dripping with malice.

"Who?" Andy asked, seemingly oblivious to the tension brewing.

"Peppy... the freakazoid. Dude, you know who I'm talking about," Eddie replied, his tone laced with disdain.

"What's it to you, Munson? It's none of your business," Andy retorted, his confusion evident.

"No, it's not, but I'm just warning you to stay away. She's a weirdo," Eddie sneered, his words dripping with venom as he poisoned Andy's perception of you.

Draped in a delicate shade of light pink, you sat in your living room, the soft glow of the evening sun casting a warm hue over everything. Your mom fussed over you, capturing every angle with her camera, her voice filled with pride as she complimented how beautiful you looked. It was a moment of rare confidence, happiness, and contentment that you hadn't experienced in a long time.

As the clock inched closer to 6 PM, the anticipation grew palpable. Andy, your prom date, was scheduled to pick you up at 8, and you couldn't help but nervously glance at the clock every few minutes. You had carefully chosen his pink tie with heart motifs, hoping he wouldn't be too embarrassed to wear it.

Meanwhile, Andy sat on his bed, staring blankly at the baggie of weed in his hand. Eddie's words echoed in his mind, poisoning his thoughts. "She's a freak, stay away from her unless you want to look like a freak too." The fear of being associated with you gnawed at him, and he made the cowardly decision to stay home, drowning his insecurities in drugs instead of facing you.

As the minutes ticked by and the clock struck 9 PM, doubt began to creep into your mind. Was Andy just running late, or was this all a cruel joke? You hesitantly dialed his number, your fingertips trembling with uncertainty. "Yello," Andy's voice crackled through the phone. "Hey Andy, it's me. I was just wondering when you're coming. You're still planning to come, right?" you asked, the hope evident in your voice. His response shattered your heart into a million pieces. "Yeah, no sorry. Munson got to me. You really are a freak," he muttered, his words like a knife through your heart. With tears welling up in your eyes, you hung up the phone, devastated by the realization that Eddie hates you , he hated you. silly you for thinking he’d let you have this one night to be happy.

as you sat in your last class of the day, a sense of relief washed over you knowing you didn't have a date for prom. The thought of spending the night with friends instead of navigating the awkwardness of a date brought a sense of calm.

But as you squirmed in your seat, eager to leave, Eddie's bitter tone shattered your moment of peace. "Could you stop fucking moving like that? I'm trying to write," he snapped, his words cutting through your thoughts like a knife.

Feeling a pang of anxiety, you stammered out an apology, your voice wavering with uncertainty. "Sorry, I'm just feeling anxious. Do you want me to move?" you offered, hoping to diffuse the tension.

"fuck yes, you annoy me anyway," Eddie retorted, his hostility palpable. "It's making me sick having to sit next to you."

Feeling a surge of humiliation, you quickly gathered your things and made your way across the classroom, retreating to the back in a desperate attempt to escape Eddie's ire.

Meanwhile, Eddie's heart pounded in his chest as he watched you move away. Memories of his behavior flooded his mind, the guilt weighing heavily on his conscience. He hadn't spoken to you since he was 14.

But despite the remorse gnawing at him, Eddie couldn't bring himself to stop. His hatred for you, fueled by years of resentment and pain, consumed him. He needed to push you away, to make you feel the same hurt he had felt. It was a vicious cycle of pain and retribution, hes only protecting himself from getting hurt again. he wont let you hurt him again.

gloomy days at Hawkins Middle School were oddly your favorite. The prospect of spending time indoors with Eddie, playing music together in the classroom, always fueled your happiness. You dashed eagerly to the music room, eager to retrieve your guitars and dive into another session of music-making with Eddie.

As you approached the closet where your instruments were stored, your eyes fell upon your beloved pink guitar, perfectly sized and customized for you. Next to it lay Eddie's red guitar, adorned with hateful words spray-painted across its surface: "freak," "loser," "trailer trash," "ugly." Anger surged within you at the sight of Eddie's defaced instrument.

In a moment of impulsive fury, you reached for Eddie's guitar, lifting it from its confines and slamming it onto the floor with all your strength, over and over again until it lay shattered into pieces. Eddie had just entered the room, tears streaming down his face as he witnessed the destruction of the one thing he cared for deeply.

Despite your attempts to explain, Eddie refused to listen. He turned his back on you, shutting you out completely. From that day forward, Eddie remained a distant figure, a silent specter haunting the halls of your memories. he never spoke to you again. opting to make your life miserable instead

Underneath your bed sat the replica of the guitar you had painstakingly saved up for, a reminder of your failed attempt to mend your friendship with Eddie. It was too big for him, collecting dust as it remained untouched. You couldn't bring yourself to throw it away or return it, holding onto the hope that one day Eddie would open his heart and listen to your side of the story.

You were pretty sure you reeked of shitty spiked punch and pepperoni oil, a combination that only added to the cynicism creeping into your thoughts. Watching Robin dance with Vicky, the girl she'd been crushing on all year, should have filled you with happiness, but instead, you couldn't shake the feeling of dread as Eddie Munson sauntered up to them. Why was he even here? Didn't he have better things to do?

"Peppy, you look so down. Can we get you anything?" Nancy's caring voice broke through your reverie, her concern evident in her gaze. "You know, I'll ask Jon to go to the diner right now to get you a burger. You look miserable, babe." Her offer was sweet, but you couldn't bring yourself to accept it, not when you caught sight of Eddie flaunting his presence with a bright flask, momentarily blinding you with its shine.

"No, Nance, I'm good. Please, just have fun," you managed to reply, mustering a weak smile as she ran off with Jonathan when "Time After Time" started playing.

The grunts and groans behind you drew your attention, and you turned to see Eddie being bombarded by school security. Curiosity getting the better of you, you intervened, asking shyly, "What's going on here?" while avoiding Eddie's gaze.

"Mr. Munson here attempted to steal school property, miss," the security guard explained. Eddie rolled his eyes and dismissed you, but you couldn't ignore the pang in your chest at the mention of a guitar. Despite his protests, you watched as they escorted him away.

Feeling foolish yet determined, you knew you had to do something for him. Maybe this would finally make him leave you alone, or perhaps even apologize. Being in student council had its perks, including a set of keys with your name on them. In the darkness of the hallway, you located the guitar and grabbed it, hoping no one would see you as you made your way to the parking lot.

You approached Eddie with a heavy heart, a dusty guitar clutched in your trembling hands. "I know they kicked you out, and I'm assuming it's because of this, but I thought you'd want to play, you know? Before leaving and everything," you murmured softly, offering him the instrument.

"Whatever," Eddie replied curtly, his tone dripping with disdain. Your heart sank as you struggled to understand his animosity. "Why do you hate me so much? I've done nothing but be nice to you. I love your uncle, I loved you. You were my best friend, Eddie, and you started treating me like shit for no reason. Really, what is it?" Tears streamed down your face, smudging your makeup as you poured your heart out to him.

Eddie felt a pang of guilt tug at his heartstrings, a sudden urge to console you rising within him. He wanted to tell you that he was sorry, that he never hated you, that you looked beautiful even with tear-streaked cheeks. But his pride and guarded heart held him back. "You're a bitch, Y/N. You're a piece of shit, and you ruined the one good thing I loved, the one thing I had left of my mom. And you had no remorse when you did it. You did it with pride, and you looked at me like I was a monster. It's not my fault you deserved to be treated like shit, Y/N. Really, I fucking hate you. This whole fucking town hates you, and I understand because you ruined my life," he spat out bitterly, his anger palpable as his nostrils flared.

"I really don't know what I did. If I knew, I would apologize. I've only ever done things to protect you, Eddie," you sobbed, your heart breaking with every word.

"So breaking my shit is protecting me? Ruining my shit is protecting me, Y/N? That's an excuse, and it's a shitty one. You know I loved that guitar," Eddie yelled, his voice raw with emotion as he fought to contain his turmoil.

"I did it to protect you, Eddie. You never let me explain. They did it, Eddie. They spray-painted your guitar. They wrote mean things on it. So I got angry, and I broke it. I shattered it because I didn't want you to see that. They were so wrong, Eddie. They still are wrong. Even after you treated me like shit, I still want you to know that you are none of those things," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper as you stared at the ground, your chest heaving with sobs.

Eddie's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his anger waning as he processed your words. Unable to resist any longer, he reached forward and pulled you into his arms, his own tears mingling with yours. "Shh, baby, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I thought you did it just to spite me. Baby, I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I love you. Please, I love you," he whispered brokenly, his bloodshot eyes pleading for forgiveness as you looked up at him, your heart heavy yet hopeful

I love you too, I really do, even after everything," you sighed into his shoulder, your words muffled by the fabric of his shirt. Eddie gently grasped the back of your head, tilting it back so you could meet his gaze. He pressed his nose to yours, his forehead resting against yours, as his hand traced your jawline with tender care. With a lightness that belied the weight of your emotions, he placed the gentlest of pecks on your lips.

"I love you, baby. I'm sorry," Eddie murmured softly, his voice laced with sincerity.

"It's okay. I really love you too," you replied, your heart swelling with love and forgiveness as you melted into his embrace.

“lets go”

taglist

@ali-r3n @tlclick73 @m0llygunn @bimbobaggins69 @impmunson @mmunson86 @stveharringtn @kingstevesgf @skrzydlak

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie x reader angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie fic #eddie x reader fluff #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst to fluff

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galamalion · 3 months

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⚔︎. 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

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pupkashi · 10 months

Note

Gojo admitted to being a light-weight when drinking. Do you think he'd be more affectionate or less?

more !!!!! so so so much more !! he is all over you stumbling everywhere trying to find you <3

this was supposed to be short and sweet oh well 🤭

“where is y/n! i need to tell them how much i love them” he’s slurring his words and shoko is pointing your way, gojo lighting up and making his way towards you.

“love bug! my sweetheart, the apple of my eye” he’s cooing at you, closing one eye to see a bit clearer before he plants a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

“toru you’re so fucking drunk” you’re laughing, stone cold sober, “how much did you drink?” the question has the strongest sorcerer giggling into your neck.

“i had five shots” he’s giggling maniacally, and you’re laughing, “oh god” you groan, knowing how much of a lightweight your lover is.

“let’s get back home yeah?” you’re saying goodbye to the rest of your friends, helping satoru walk down the steps of shoko’s apartment.

“one, two, three-” satoru counts his every step down, leaning almost all his weight on your smaller frame.

“there’s 20 stairs! baby there’s 20!” he’s grinning ear to ear as you nod in agreement.

“is there? that’s great lover” he’s giggling at the pet name, leaning over and kissing you on the cheek. “i need you to stay on your side okay? I’m driving” he pouts for a bit, his mind racing.

“because you’ll crash and die if i don’t?” you’re biting back laughter as you turn the corner, nodding your head. “okay i don’t want you to die i would burn the world down for you” he says firmly, crossing his arms and staying quiet for the entire ride.

when you’re helping him into your shared home he wasted no time to get you on the couch, flopping onto of you and kissing your face, loud sloppy kisses being planted on any exposed skin he sees.

“i love you so much” his words are slurred and he’s much more malleable than he was earlier. his arms clinging around you as you sit up, “i wouldn’t know what t’do w’myself without you” he mumbles, his eyes are closed, he feels the room spinning but he doesn’t care, grounding himself by holding you tightly.

“i love you too angel boy” you reply, trying to wiggle out of his right grasp, “i need to get something I’ll be right back okay?” his bright blue eyes are looking up at you, his pale skin flushed red and his glossy lips turned into a small lopsided smile.

“‘kay” he giggles, whistling at you when you’re walking away and coming back, “I’m the luckiest man in the world” he states, taking the glass of water from you, kissing you again.

“let’s get you changed and into bed okay?” he’s nodding, setting the cup down clumsily, spilling it on the table.

“fuck! I’m sorry please don’t be mad!” he’s pouting at you, tears welling in his eyes before you take his hands gently in yours.

“I’m not mad i promise” you’re kissing his flushes cheeks, his pour disappearing after you place a soft peck to his lips, immediately chasing your lips and placing one hand behind your neck.

even drunk he manages to take your breath away, pulling away with a smile, “cmon lover boy” you smile, helping him into the restroom and handing him a toothbrush, he’s grinning at you lovesick.

it isn’t until he’s laying in bed, your fingers tangled in his hair that exhaustion hits him, snowy lashes fluttering closed as he mumbles on about how much he loves you.

it isn’t until he mumbles the last sentence that your eyes go wide and it’s your turn to grin maniacally.

“gonna marry you one day, sweets” even slurred you can make out the words perfectly, heart racing and you’re holding him a bit tighter.

“i hope you do, angel boy” you whisper, kissing his forehead gently.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #tw alcohol #cw alcohol #gojo x reader #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru #gojo satoru drabble #gojo satoru one shot #gojo satoru x reader fluff #satoru gojo x reader

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joedirtymadre · 2 months

Text

Day Off

Not really a pairing. Maybe slight YUUJI X READER, but MEGUMI X READER (ANGST).

“Megumiii!” I called out as I walked through the campus. “Megumiii! Megu-“ I was interrupted. “What?” I heard an annoyed voice answer. “Hey handsome!” I smiled and walked over to him. “What do you want (Y/N)?” He asked, in the same annoyed tone. “Oh come on, is that any way to speak to your girlfriend?” I smiled. He sighed in response. “So what is it?” He asked. “I wanted to know if you wanted to go to the arcade with me today. Since we both finished our assignments early I tho-“

“I’ll pass,” he said, as he walked past me.

“A-Are you sure? I mean we haven’t hung out in like-“

“I said I’ll pass, besides the last assignment I did was tough. So I just want to relax in my dorm,” he said and continued walking towards the dorms. I ran over to catch up, “Well… wanna watch a movie? I saw a new movie was released on Netflix and it-“

“I think I just want to be alone right now (Y/N). Maybe another time, see ya,” he said as he quickly walked off. “Oh yeah… I get it, see ya,” I said softly watching his figure get smaller and smaller.

I walked towards the stone stairs path and took a seat. “Why is he even with me? We haven’t really hung out in 3 weeks, or been on an actual date in months… Why did he ask me out if he wants his space all the time?” I asked myself as I stared at my shoes. “Maybe I’m being overdramatic, the guy just wants space for a bit. I guess I can support that,” I sighed. “Yo (Y/N)!” I heard someone call out and looked up to see Yuuji at the bottom of the stairs waving. “Hey Yuuji,” I replied back. “Yo what’s up with the long face?” He asked as he jumped up the steps and sat next to me. “It’s nothing really, or nothing big I guess… I think?” I sighed. “Sounds like you don’t even know yourself, wanna talk about it?” He asked. “Well… maybe I’m just being too sensitive but Megumi and I haven’t properly hung out in like 3 weeks. So, when I found out that we both finished our assignments early today I thought that it’d be a great time to get together and you know… do couple stuff,” I said softly. “But he told me he just wants to be alone in his room and I guess I’m bummed out about it. Cause you know… 3 weeks is a bit of time, we both have a free afternoon, so why not spend it with your significant other?” I asked. “Sorry, maybe I am being overdramatic,” I laughed awkwardly. “No I don’t think so, I mean I think anyone would try to plan someone out with their partner if they both had a free day off. So, it’s kind of crappy that he doesn’t realize that,” he said and patted my back. “It’s fine, no big deal,” I smiled softly. “If you say so… but come on! Let’s not let the rest of our day off end so sour,” he said and quickly stood up. “Huh?” I asked. “Yeah, come on! Where did you want to go today?” He asked and began heading down the steps. “Well I wanted to go to the arcade, but you don’t have to! If you want to relax I understand!” I explained. “It’s fine, now come on! I’ll race you to the station!” He said and took a head start. “Hey no fair!” I laughed and chased after him.

Yuuji and I headed to a local arcade that’s never too packed, so it’s a great spot to play a few machines at and not have to wait forever for someone to get off. We played a bunch of games, Street Fighter, Mario Kart, Mortal Kombat, skee ball, and a bunch of other games.

“Yuuji, you’ve spent $20 on that machine, it's time to call it a night,” I sighed. “Last try! I promise!” He said, as he inserted his last dollar into a crane game. “Help me on that side, we’re after that pink teddy bear!” He said. I got to the side of the machine and began guiding him over the bear. “Ok you’re good on this side!” I said and gave a thumbs up. “Alright, now get ready!” He said and pushed the drop button. We crossed our fingers, hoping that the claw would grasp onto the bear. We watched closely as the claw grabbed onto the bear’s head and slowly raised it up. “Stay, stay, stay,” I said and watched closely until it dragged it over to the drop box. Once over the drop box it finally let go of the bear, releasing Yuuji’s prize. “Boom!” He cheered and we hi-fived each other. “Nice job!” I smiled. “We got lucky!” He said and went to retrieve the bear. He pulled it out, and went straight to handing it to me. “Here,” he said. “Huh?” I asked. “Yeah, take it. As a souvenir,” he smiled. “Really? Thanks!” I smiled and hugged the bear. “Now, let’s call it a night?” He asked. “Yep!” I smiled. We walked back to the train station, where we headed back to campus.

While walking to our dorms, “Yuuji thanks for the bear! He’s so cute and so pink!” I smiled and lifted him up. “No problem,” he said. We continued chatting about the day we had until I noticed Megumi stepped out of his room. He noticed us and began walking towards us, “Oh hey Fushiguro!” Yuuji waved. I looked up and noticed a scowl on Megumi’s face. “Hey,” he said coldly. “Hi Megumi,” I smiled. “Hey, where did you guys go?” He asked. “Oh we went to the arcade. We played a couple of games and we won that bear,” Yuuji explained. “Isn’t he cute? Today was so much fun,” I smiled. “Sure, can I talk to you?” He said and quickly turned around and headed back to his room. “S-Sure? I’ll see you tomorrow Yuuji!” I waved goodbye and followed Megumi. I walked inside his bedroom and he slammed it shut. “You ok?” I asked. “Why’d you go out with Itadori?” He asked. “Huh?” I asked. “I asked, why did you go out with Itadori?” He glared. “Oh well… he found me at the stairs and we were talking about how we had the rest of the day off so he said let’s go do something. Then he asked me where I wanted to go and I said the arcade I explained. Megumi frowned. “What’s wrong?” I asked. “What’s wrong is that my girlfriend is out hanging out with other guys,” he said. “Wait what? You didn’t want to hang out with me… and Yuuji is a friend, you know that,” I glared. “Ok yeah he’s a friend, but did you have to be all buddy buddy coming back? Like you guys had such an amazing time together?” He rolled his eyes. “Megumi what? You’re not making any sense right now. You did not want to hang out with me today. So I hung out with someone else, to give you the alone time that you wanted, remember?” I frowned. “Whatever,” he sighed. “Whatever?” I asked. “You obviously don’t get it,” he said. “Get what? That you're being weirdly jealous over our friend! Plus, it’s not like you’ve been dying to hang out with me, it’s been 3 weeks since we’ve done anything together. Sometimes… I honestly don’t even know why we’re together. If I just bother you,” I sighed. “Is that what you really think?” He asked. “Well what else am I supposed to think? Put yourself in my shoes, we hardly hang out and when we both finally have the one day to do something fun together you’d rather spend it alone? You act like you haven’t finished any assignments early these past 3 weeks, you have all those times to relax and have alone time. So why blow me off today?” I asked. “I-I… I guess I didn’t think about it that way,” he said. “I guess not,” I huffed. “And now you’re all mad at me because I spent it with someone that actually wanted to hang out with me today? So… you know what…” I dragged on. “What?” Megumi asked. “If you want so much alone time to yourself, then go ahead. I don’t think this is working out,” I said and turned towards the door. I quickly opened it and headed outside. “(Y/N) wait!” I heard Megumi shout but I continued walking back to my room. “Hold on! Please listen to me!” He pleaded. I quickly unlocked my door, and walked in. “No Megumi, you listen to me! I was over the moon when you asked me to be your girlfriend, but maybe you’re not ready for one. And I don’t know if I can wait around until you're finally ready to accept that your girlfriend likes hanging out with you, to spend as much time together as possible because you never know what may happen one day,” I glared and shut my door. I placed my bear on my desk and fell on my bed, finally allowing the tears to fall down my cheeks. You can cry today (Y/N), but that’s it.

#jjk #jjk x reader #angst #fluff #anime fanfic #fanfic #x reader #anime #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #breakup #megumi x reader #itadori yuuji #itadori x reader #yuuji x reader #fushiguro x reader

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starbandit · 6 months

Text

Skyline (K.N.J)

Requested- Namjoon ceo! Au with age gap with reader being a one night stand. Maybe a little toxic! Namjoon? Honestly as fic with namjoon ceo vibes

contains- ceo!namjoon, age gap, tipsy sex, oral (f!receiving), making out, semi-public sex, light degradation, dirty talk, slight hair pulling, unprotected sex, praise 18+ MDI!!!

word count - 2.4k/unedited

You couldn’t help but groan as you watched your boss leave his office. He had a stack of papers in his hand and you just knew they were about to be thrown onto your desk with some crazy demand.

“Hello, sir.” You greeted with a fake smile on your face. “How are you?”

You watched as he plopped the papers on your desk with a loud thud. “Well, I’ve been better, Y/N.” He stated with a sour look on his face. “I need these scanned in, organized, emailed, and filed all by….” He looked at the expensive watch decorating his wrist. “Five thirty p.m.”

You looked at the time on your computer. It was already three, there was no way in hell you would finish all of that in two hours. You tried to hide the expression on your face. “Of course, I’ll do my best.” You nodded at him.

“Great, I’d do it myself-” You knew that was a damn lie. “But I’m meeting up with some friends for drinks tonight so I need to leave early.” He flashed a smile at you. “Have a good night, Y/N.”

“You too, Mr. Kim.” You let your expression drop as he turned around. You watched as he got onto the elevator and disappeared from sight before you let out a loud groan, letting your head hit your desk. “I’m never getting out of here.”

“Sir, I got those reports done last night, and here is the coffee you wanted.” You set a quick pace behind Namjoon. He grabbed the coffee from your hand, trading it for yet another stack of papers.

“Great, I need you to take notes in this morning's meetings.” He stated, rounding a corner. “I’m trying to land a deal with a company overseas, so make a good impression.” He stopped in front of the meeting room. “Sit quietly.”

You nodded and followed behind him, waving as he introduced you to the room. You took your seat in the corner of the room and got ready to take your notes.

You let your thoughts wander as you walked down the street, getting ready to collect the lunch that you had called in for the executives. You had accepted the job as a stepping stone into the company, hoping to put your degree to good use. But it had been well over a year since you graduated and began working for ‘Mr. Kim’ and you were still stuck running errands. Unfortunately, the pay was too good for you to even consider getting another job, and… maybe you had a small crush on your boss.

You returned to the office with the bags of food and prepared the spread in an empty meeting room. The executives were expected to return any minute, so you wasted no time in setting it up.

“Ah, Y/N, thank you so much for doing this.” You quickly turned as soon as you heard your boss speak up from behind you.

“Absolutely no problem, Mr. Kim. I hope you all enjoy the food.” You painted on a kind smile and headed for the door, hoping to shove some food in your own mouth before Namjoon asked for some other ridiculous request.

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. You were sent out a few more times to gather drinks and snacks, and said goodbye to the executives from your desk as Namjoon showed them the way out. You continued to type up your reports and tidy the office as Namjoon did some work in his office.

“Y/N, can you meet me in my office?” Namjoons voice came from over the speakers in the meeting room. You rolled your eyes. Here comes the request. Pick up my dry cleaning,Y/N. Go pick up this random imported cheese from across town, Y/N. You silently trudged across the office before painting a fake smile on and knocking on the glass door. “Come in!”

“You wanted to see me, sir?” You stepped in.

“Y/N, yes, take a seat.” He motioned to the chair in front of his desk. You slid into the chair and waited. “I just wanted to express my gratitude for everything you do.”

Your heart fluttered at the praise. “Oh! Well, thank you. I uh… I always wanna try my best for you and the company.” You stared into his eyes. His expression softened slightly as he smiled.

“I’m really happy to hear that.” He chuckled. “I would uh… like to treat you to a drink tonight, just as a thank you.”

“Oh!” You nodded. “Okay, yeah, that… that sounds great!” You instantly regretted accepting the offer. He wasn’t a horrible person by any means, but were you really about to spend your evening with the person that made you want to rip your hair out? Shit, there was no backing out now.

“Great!” He pushed out of his chair. “Go ahead and collect your things and we can head out.” He began picking up his items and packing them away in his bag.

Oh this was happening now, like right now. You quickly stood to collect your stuff. One drink and then you could leave. That’s all you had to do. It would be easy enough. Right?

“So, tell me about yourself.” Your boss set the glasses down on the table of the bar. “What happens in the life of Y/N outside of work?”

You muttered a small thank you to him and took a sip. “Well, sir,”

“Just call me Namjoon.” He interrupted. “We’re not in the office, this is casual.”

“Namjoon,” You corrected. “I can almost promise my life isn’t that interesting. No big trips or anything, I work, eat, and sleep.” You were a little embarrassed to not have much to say about your life.

Namjoon hummed and took a sip of his beer. He had taken off his tie and suit jacket, and loosened the top few buttons of his shirt. His hair was now gently tousled instead of gelled down, the black and gray locks falling onto his forehead. He looked… soft. Less like a CEO and more like a husband. You tried to shake off the weird feeling it was giving you.

The two of you fell into a nice conversation. You learned about his life. How he had been married in college, how she fell pregnant, how the baby wasn’t his. He gave you the details of the divorce and how he built up his career. Thrown in between stories were compliments and comments about how your blushy cheeks looked cute in the dim bar lighting.

You finished up your third drink, body feeling fuzzy and warm. You and Namjoon headed out of the bar, you holding onto his arm with drunken giggles coming out of your mouth. You can’t exactly remember what happened, or when, but you found yourself pressed against the wall of the bar in the alley, with Namjoon holding your face as the two of you feverishly made out.

“God, I’ve been wanting this for so long,” He moaned against your lips. “Take everything in me to not take you at work in those tight skirts.” His hand met the flesh of your ass from under your skirt. He kneaded the skin, sucking marks into your neck as he felt your body.

“You should have.” You teased back. Your hands trailed up his chest, toned muscle flexing under you hands, and grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him back in for another kiss. “I’d let you take me right in this alley, Mr. Kim.”

“I’ll give you an even better offer.” He pulled you closer. “Why don’t we go fuck where all of Seoul can see us?”

Your legs went weak. Was he suggesting what you thought he was? You quickly nodded without another word and let him grab you by the wrist. Namjoon dragged you down the street and back to the office building.

Once in the elevator, you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. Namjoon had picked you up and pressed you against the wall, hands gripping and kneading your ass. You two messily made out, tongues twisting against each other, teeth clashing. Your hands slid from his shoulders to his biceps, squeezing the hard muscle under his shirt.

Namjoon didn��t even allow you to walk to his office, instead opting to carry you while you sucked red and purple marks into the tan skin of his neck. He slid the remaining objects on his desk to the floor and sat you on top of the wood.

You had never looked out his office window at night before. You could see almost all of Seoul, lights twinkled for as far as the eye could see. It was gorgeous. Namjoon had settled between your legs while you stared out of the window.

“Shit,” You gasped as his breath hit your thighs. Soft kisses trailed up the skin, stopping at where your skirt had ridden up. Your skin prickled at the feeling.

“I can stop.” He rested a warm hand on your thigh. His fingers traced shapes on the exposed skin. “We can stop, no hard feelings.”

You took a deep breath. Fucking your boss probably wasn’t the smartest decision you had ever made. But… he was hot. Fuck it, you nodded your head. “Please, I want you.” You buried your hands into his hair. “Keep going.”

He smirked and pushed your skirt up the rest of the way, bunching the fabric up at your waist. You sat exposed for a moment while he stared. “What a slutty choice of panties for the office.” He commented before running a finger over the, now soaked, lace. He continued to slid his finger around over your slit, collecting juices and teasing. He pulled his finger away and popped it into his mouth, humming as he licked it clean.

After that, he wasted no time. Namjoon slid your panties to the side and got to work, eating you out like you were his last meal. A shaky gasp left your lips as you threw your head back, a loud moan ripping its way from your stomach.

His warm tongue danced around your folds, licking around all the sensitive areas until he finally landed on your clit. He switched between fast motions and sucking, getting you close enough to teeter on the edge of an orgasm. You couldn’t believe how fast you had gotten to the edge.

“F-Fuck,” You whimpered as he slid his tongue into your entrance. “Fuck, Namjoon!” Your hands gripped his hair tight, pulling him in closer as you began to fall over the edge. “I-I’m, shit.” You couldn’t find the words to form a sentence.

The heat in your belly exploded as your muscles tensed up. Your hips twitched up as your pussy clenched rapidly around his tongue. Wetness dripped from your pussy down your thighs and ass, coating the wood of the desk.

Namjoon pulled away, lips bright pink and glistening. He looked up at you with hooded eyes and bit his lip. “Wanna keep going?” He stood up, now towering over you.

You nodded enthusiastically and pulled him down for another kiss as he undid his slacks. The pants dropped to the floor with a thud, his belt buckle hitting the hardwood floor. By the time you pulled away, his underwear and pants were long gone, kicked somewhere in the shadows of his office.

Your jaw nearly fell to the floor when you looked down. Namjoon was rock hard, tip red and leaking, but the size is what got you. It was nearly as long as your forearm, and you weren’t even sure if you could wrap a hand around him. “There is no way that will fit inside of me.” You mumbled.

Namjoon chuckled. “Let's try.” He began to tease your entrance with his tip. He watched your face as he pushed in, stopping at the first sign of discomfort. He waited patiently for you to give him the sign to continue on.

He was filling you up so good. So deep. Touching and massaging places you never knew even existed. You groaned as he slowly began to move, hitting the perfect angle. You pulled Namjoon down and wrapped your arms around him. Your fingertips dug into his clothed back. His muscles tensed under your hands as he thrusted, the desk creaking under every movement.

“I knew you could take it, such a good girl.” Namjoon grunted. “Such a whore, letting me fuck you on my desk.” He pulled back to run a hand through your hair before tugging on it. “Who owns this pussy? Hm?”

You let out a loud whine. “You, you do, sir.”

A smirk painted Namjoons face. He mumbled out a quick praise and picked up the pace, absolutely assaulting your pussy. You weren’t sure if you would be able to walk right tomorrow.

“Shit, you feel so good.” He groaned. You whimpered in response and gripped him harder, holding onto your boss as if he was the only thing keeping you grounded. Like if you let go of him the ocean waves would pick you up and drag you away.

You could feel the waves building up in your lower tummy. The heat grew between your legs and through your belly. A slew of curse words left your mouth as the heat exploded, your fingertips dug into the firm muscle of Namjoons back.

Namjoon let out a groan as your pussy pulsed around his cock. The friction from that alone was enough to push him over the edge and he bottomed out before spilling inside of you. His cock throbbed deep inside of you as he came, hot seed coating your insides.

You sat for a moment, both attempting to catch your breath before he pulled out. When he finally did, a hiss left your mouth from the sudden emptiness and the feeling of cum dripping out of your pussy and down your ass. The fluid dripped down and pooled on the desk.

Namjoon had made quick work of getting redressed. By the time you had gathered yourself enough to pull on your underwear, he was fully clothed and standing by the door. He watched as you got yourself dressed and attempted to fix your hair.

“Y/N, would you like to see the view from my penthouse now?”

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wolfjackle-creates · 1 year

Text

WIP Wednesday

So I'll be sharing a snippet from a different fic today! If I share anymore of Bring Me Home, I may as well just post the entire first chapter. (Which, I will be looking for a new job and hopefully moving in 2 months or so, so I'll probably try and start posting after that. Get another chapter or two written in the meantime.)

This fic is also from a prompt that was submitted by @regonold to @stealingyourbones. I did part of a collab fill previously, but the idea has been living in my mind rent free and I couldn't help but want to take it on more fully. I've written 5.5k and this snippet is just under 900 words.

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The formal gardens beyond the iron gate filled Danny with dread. Vlad’s mansion had looked like this, too. But Jazz had promised him, over and over again, that the Waynes were nothing like the Fruit Loop while begging him to come. Besides, he’d spent weeks making sure his schedule was clear and making deals to prevent any interruptions. No backing out now. With a sigh, he pressed the button for the intercom.

“Good evening, may I ask your business?” asked a man with a British accent.

“Um, yeah. Good evening.” Why was it so much harder to communicate with other people as human Danny than ghost Phantom? “Um, I’m Danny. Jazz’s brother?”

“Ah, yes. Of course. We’ve been expecting you. Follow the drive up to the house and welcome.”

Motors activated and the gates slowly opened. Danny started the trek up the long driveway. His anxiety wasn’t relived when he saw the manor with it’s dark stone facade and literal tower. If it was made of lighter stones, it could have been a copy of Vlad’s castle.

“This is for Jazz,” he muttered under his breath as he walked up the stairs. Before he could knock on the doors, they opened and Jazz ran out to hug him.

“Danny! Thank you so much for coming! How’ve you been? I know you’re busy, but you need to call me more often.”

Danny hugged her back tightly. “Sorry, Jazz. You know how I lose track of time. So where’s this famous Jason?”

A man stepped forward and started speaking, but hanging off his back was a ghost. The ghost of the dead Robin, to be exact. Shit.

At least the position of the ghost meant he appeared to be looking at probably-Jason. Even if he didn’t hear a word the man said. To make it worse, Robin realized he could see him and was sending out help-me trills.

Danny had to bite hard on his tongue to keep from vocalizing his own comforting chirps.

He was so focused on Robin that he almost didn’t notice probably-Jason holding out his hand to shake. Laughing self-consciously, he took it. “It’s great to finally meet you.”

The other man hesitated a moment and asked, “Is everything all right?”

But all Danny could focus on was Robin hanging off Jason’s shoulders and sending out happy-sad-helpless feelings. Danny relaxed the hold he had on his ghost self and tried to sense what was going on. But he had to reassure the human, too. “Yeah, I’m fine.” But wow, was Jason not. Where had he come into contact with such weird ectoplasm? It seemed to twist every emotion into anger and fear and violence.

Even worse was Robin. He was barely perceptible even to Danny’s enhanced senses.

Of course, Jazz was liminal enough to realize he was doing something. Quietly, she chirped a question.

Danny just shook his head and pulled back his power. “Later,” he murmured.

“I’ll hold you to that,” she said back, just as quietly.

Louder, Danny said, “Sorry. I just have bad memories about large manors like this. Has Jazz told you about Vlad?”

“He’s come up a time or two. With the black hair and blue eyes, someone will probably make an adoption joke at you before the night is over. But I’ll stab them if they do.”

Danny's laugh would have been much less forced had he not just felt the twisted anger inside probably-Jason. “Just don’t hit anything vital,” he said, hoping it sounded like a joke.

Robin rolled his eyes—and how could he do that so obviously with a mask on?—and tried to pull on Jason to lead him inside.

“Well, it might be summer, but Gotham is never warm. Come on in and I’ll introduce you to everyone,” said Jason.

Jazz grabbed his hand as they made their way inside where they were greeted warmly by an elderly gentleman.

“You must be Mr. Danny. Welcome to the Manor. I’m Alfred. Dinner will be served in one hour and please let me know if you need anything. Your sister stated you didn’t have any dietary restrictions?”

“What’s that?” Danny was trying not to stare at Robin who was now hugging the older man. Before Alfred could repeat himself, however, Danny’s brain caught up to the human conversation. “Oh, uh, no. I don’t. Jazz is right.”

“Very good. Can I take your coat and bag?”

Danny did shrug off his backpack, but only so he could also take off his coat. “Can I keep the bag? I don’t feel comfortable without it on me.”

“Very well.” Alfred hung the coat up on a rack right next to the door. “Master Jason, be sure to show him where the bathroom is on your way to join the others. Mr. Danny, there are plenty of drinks in the sitting room where everyone is relaxing should you need a refreshment.” And he finally had confirmation that this was Jason!

“’Course I will, Alfie.”

“Thanks,” said Danny, though he was more focused on the desperate chirps Robin was sending out.

I’m here-notice me-I love you.

Looks like he was breaking his promise to Jazz to not do any ghostly business tonight. Of course Jazz’s boyfriend would be haunted by a ghost that needed help. Why was he even surprised?

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As far as I know, there hasn't been a lot of requests for a tag list on this one. @addie-lover-of-stories is the only one I noticed. But let me know and I'll start one!

Next Part

#dp x dc #danny fenton #jazz fenton #jason todd #anger management #alfred pennyworth #i reread everything ive written today for the first time in a week or two #and theres some scenes i cant wait to share with others #it'll be fun #for danny at least #the bats not so much

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theold-ultraviolence · 1 year

Note

Hiii

I was just wondering how would Aemond and his love react to their kid being hurt and losing their eye potentially. Maybe it’s so so but eventually they say they couldn’t save the eye and so due to infection or whatever they had to remove it.

How would the kids siblings act?

Would Aemond see them come together to protect their sibling and see what he wished his brother and siblings did for him that night he lost his eye.

I imagine he would make sure he wasn’t like Viserys. He would make sure his kid was okay and protected but also justice. There would be justice.

Imagine if it was his daughter 😱 his little princess. His little dragon. It would hurt him so much. Imagine if in her sweet little voice “it’s okay kepa and muna. I can look like kepa now and have my own eye patch. Like the pirates in the stories.”

Or something like that. I can practically hear Aemonds heart break.

I am so so so sorry this is so long. I just thought that your dad Aemond stuff is so Damn good and you would make an awesome fic out of ideas like above. I know they suck and you get much better ideas from people but this just popped in my head. I hope you have a great day. ☀️

OK FIRST OF ALL, sorry it took me so long to get to this, my brain just hasn't been working these days but ahhhhh, second of all, HOW DARE YOU DROP ME ALL THIS ANGST. IT HURTS. BUT IT HURTS SO GOOD. I don't have the brain capacity for a fully fleshed out fic, but I can offer you this humble drabble...CW: angst ahead, but it's brief and followed by a lot of fluff and the injuries aren't explicitly described.

The Sapphire Princess (drabble) • (King!Aemond Targaryen, dad!Aemond)

...For this scenario, I'm imagining Aemond is king, and he has his three children I’ve talked about before, Elaena the eldest, and the twins, Aeron and Vaella. Elaena and Aeron are his protectors while everyone in the kingdom knows that the youngest of the twins, Vaella, is the most attached to her father out of the three children.

Vaella is the sensitive one, the soft child in a household of strong-willed children. The one who's always holding onto Aemond's hand. She's not his protector in the same way that Elaena and Aeron are, it's like Vaella's got his father's heart under her care. Everyone used to say that the prince had a black heart. But not anymore, not the king. His children are to thank for it. Out of his two daughters, while Elaena wears practical clothing, ready for combat, Vaella is known for wearing sapphire blue dresses, the color of her father's prosthetic eye. Because of this, she's known as 'the sapphire princess', and she's very loved by all.

She's the perfect target for those wanting to hurt the King - hit him where it hurts most. A single scratch to her beautiful face, a face that's the mirror image of the Queen, it's enough to ignite King Aemond's fury.

So one night, The Red Keep goes aflame. Princess Vaella is nowhere to be found in the dead of night. You can only hear the thunderous growling of King Aemond, his stomping steps reverberating against the stone floors of the palace as he commands Elaena and Aeron to lead the King's Guard in search of her dearest daughter, just as he rides Vaghar to watch over the Kingdom from above.

The search isn't an arduous one, but it is dooming. It is gut-wrenching; Elaena feels as though his heart has been ripped from her chest when she finds her young sister, wailing in pain all doubled over herself in one of the alleyways of flea bottom. Aeron kneels down, feeling weakened at the sight, feeling his twin's stabbing pain as his own.

Young Vaella Targaryen's left eye has been taken, like her father before her. Elaena takes her sister in arms, just as Aeron takes the lead of the king's guard in order to find the culprit. Seek and destroy is the order.

Elaena feels desperate and weak, but she holds on to her strength as she carries her sister all the way to the Maesters.The Queen weeps and clutches her silk robes at the sound of Vaghar's growls in the sky. From the windows of the palace, one could only see a spear of Dragonfire cutting through the sky like Vaella's own facial wound. The enemies of the king have been destroyed.

Aemond rushes in but paralyzes on the spot. The sight that greets him is taunting and cruel, bringing back flooding memories that are as vicious as the bloodshed outside. "My sweet dove..." he laments as he reaches his queen and children, who form a protective circle around Vaella.

"Father..." she croaks out, barely able to speak with the Maesters working on sewing her scar shut. Where once Princess Vaella used to look like a carbon copy of her mother, now it's as though Aemond is looking at a vivid image of his past self.

Aemond takes her hand, squeezing tightly. "The ones responsible have been annihilated, ñuha jorrāelagon. You don't need to fret. Your family is with you."

"Don't mourn me, kepa." She murmurs, as a single tear escapes her big doe eye, "You were strong enough to endure, and so will I. The bravery in your blood is the same that courses through my own veins. Now my Sapphire nickname is as true as ever."

It doesn't stop Aemond from crying, and grasping onto Vaella's delicate hand as if she'd evaporate in the blink of a weary eye.

"You've got something your father lacked, back then, my darling." Her mother's tone is both comforting and laced with the ferocity that could make anyone believe in miracles. Vaella's mother speaks to her, but also to the younger version of Aemond, the one that wished he'd had someone other than his mother to defend him.

"You have us. We will nurture you back to health. It won't be easy, my dove. But we'll be there."

Elaena and Aeron stand beside their parents, wiping off their tears and replacing the somber look on their faces with hopeful smiles. Vaella couldn't see them sad, she needs her siblings healthy and strong.

The months passed, and the road to recovery was long, with days when the pain is blinding for Vaella, and her cries can be heard all throughout the Red Keep. Days where the King can be seen starring idly at nothing at all as if lost in a sea of memories. There were days when Aeron and Elaena sat on the iron throne, for the King wanted nothing but to spend the day nestled in bed, cuddling his daughter. And days when kepa and muña could be spotted in the gardens, helping their daughter train with the sword so that she'll never again be unarmed and unable to defend herself.

A year later, a portrait of the royal family was commissioned. At the iron throne, sat the king. Flanking his left, stood Elaena and Aeron. The Queen, ever-present to the king's right. And in the front, sat by the king's knee - like a ripple of the King's image - Vaella, The Sapphire Princess. Neither the father nor the daughter wore their respective eye patches, proud to display their shared symbol of resilience.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #dad!aemond #aemond's children #aemond targaryen drabble #aemond targaryen fanfiction #drabbles #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fanfiction #my writing #ewan mitchell #my oc: vaella targaryen #my oc: elaena targaryen #my oc: aeron targaryen

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bunnysbrainrot · 8 months

Text

Obedience at its Finest

Relationship: Lucifer!Castiel x fem!Reader

Content: degradation, pet play (remember when he called Crowley his 'puppy'? exactly), BDSM, slapping, oral (male receiving).

Summary: Castiel had accepted Lucifer to take over his vessel, leaving you as collateral for Cas's agreement with Lucifer. No harm would come to you, at least not in the way that you think. The Devil himself decides to see how far he can push to break you, you can only hope that you'll last. Though you had been attracted to Castiel before, his whole new persona takes you by surprise.

A/N: I was really excited to write this, so I'm hoping it gets the love it needs! Chapter two is already being brainstormed. This one may get pretty intense, especially in further chapters. If that's not what you're looking for, feel free to send a request!

Everything was different. The whole world had flipped upside down and it left you and the Winchesters confused. Castiel had agreed to let Lucifer himself take over his vessel over a month ago. The one thing no one anticipated was the Devil taking you, as 'collateral', he said. You were immediately swept away with a snap of his fingers, the last thing you saw being Sam and Dean's torn expressions while Satan whisked you away.

Now you stood in a throne room, the click of Lucifer's shoes being the only sound as he strode over to you.

"Tell me, I've had you here for quite some time," he opened, "do you know why I chose you instead of a Winchester?"

It was something you had contemplated for a while, why you of all people? Your eyes met Lucifer's as he smiled deviously down at you. He clicked his tongue when you shook your head, eyes wide with nervousness. His potential is unmatched to anything you had seen before. Just a snap of his fingers - hell, a single thought, could kill you. But he had every other chance since kidnapping you to finish the job and get rid of you, why...?

"Well, A: It's a pain in the neck - having a Winchester and Dad knows who else on my ass forever? Pass."

Lucifer stood beside you, craning his neck to ogle at your face while it remained still as stone.

"Come on! You gotta warm up sometime, geez. Don't you wanna hear what 'B' is?" His tone was jovial, a constant taunting when he spoke to you. Your eyes met his - the eyes of someone who once was your friend, potentially much more if it weren't for God's 'Favorite' taking over his life. Part of you mourned silently over Castiel, though you knew he wasn't truly gone, and that he was in there somewhere. Behind the, pun intended, devilish grin on his face.

You gave him a curt nod, to which he let out a deep breath.

"Okay, now we're getting somewhere," he said encouragingly. Lucifer stepped to the side to make a path behind you, his mouth dangerously close to your ear. "You see, I can admit that I may have taken you because of a... personal affection. If you know what I mean."

His lowered voice shuddered through you. A hand wandered to your chin, cupping beneath it to lean your head back, eyes meeting Lucifer's. You let out a small gasp at the motion that made him smile with great satisfaction.

Lucifer hummed, "Interesting. You like that?"

His taunting continued as a warmth spread over your body. He continued, "Well, I thought you and our buddy Castiel here were a bit closer than just friends. Or at least, that's what you wanted it to be."

The words sank in your gut, the truth behind them was a weight you couldn't shake. You didn't get the opportunity to admit your affections to Cas before he worked with Lucifer. It was a chance you had lost hope on, now that the Devil was involved.

He leaned closer to your ear, raising goosebumps across your neck when his warm breath brushed against your skin. A shuddering exhale left your lips, a familiar tightening in your stomach began to begin.

Was there seriously any way you were actually attracted to this?

"Let me tell you a secret, okay? Since Castiel never had the balls to tell you, I'm going to do him the favor." Lucifer's lips planted a soft kiss on your neck, just under your ear.

"He likes you, too. Well, that's one way to put it, at least." Your eyes shot open wide in shock, breath hitching in your throat.

"That's not true," you retorted.

He shook his head, "It's true. Very true, actually. I mean, Cas was actually the one who begged me to spare you. He really said 'to hell' with those Winchesters, eh? Would've been more fun if that were literal."

The mix of flirtation and teasing confused you. What was his game here? First he takes over your friend's body, then he confesses his endearment for you?

Lucifer's hands travel to your waist as he brought his hips to your rear, "Say, I have a way we can kill two birds with one stone, here. You like Cas, Cas likes you, I like you. I think we could have a little fun with that."

The tight sensation in your abdomen grew ever stronger, your thighs shifting together to stifle the feeling. This didn't go unnoticed by Lucifer's keen attention, eyes raking over your tense body.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," he knew you wouldn't dare. Couldn't. So, he continued, "I think you like that idea. Dirty, dirty."

He wove around you to face you properly. Lucifer cupped your face in one hand, fingers tightening around your jaw. His voice lowered to a whisper once again, his voice gravelly.

"You see, you're a depraved little thing. Unfortunately I don't think your precious Castiel could handle it - but I can. And I have a feeling that you'd let me," Lucifer drawled on, trailing a finger down your throat to between your breasts, hovering just above the apex of your thighs. It would be an outright lie if you told him this wasn't exciting for you. Though he was in your friend's body, Lucifer's teasing, his sheer dominance, spurred you on.

Ever since keeping Lucifer company, he dictated everything that happened to you. No harm had come to you, in fact it was almost nice. You were doted on, though you didn't always accept it, prioritized with the best food and bedrest you had ever gotten. It seemed like Lucifer would go above and beyond to earn your affection and trust.

Today he had chosen a sophisticated outfit: a black button up shirt with a slim fitting black skirt to match. Your legs were adorned with delicate gray tights, black Mary Jane shoes to bring the outfit together. It was his favorite.

"Now, let's see how well you listen," purred Lucifer. "On your knees, pet."

Though logic told you to disobey, you lowered down, kneeling before him. The Devil rewarded you with a smile and a finger under your chin, angling your head upward.

"Good, good. I still think we could work on the obedience aspect of it. You're listening, sure, but I need more. As the true King of Hell, it's only fitting that you serve me as I need." He landed a firm pat on your cheek, the impact leaving you clenching your thighs.

He carded his fingers into your hair, gripping you securely to maintain your eye contact, "Let's start with that shirt. I want to see what's underneath."

Your fingers fumbled with the buttons, but Lucifer took over and tore down your stomach, buttons scattering across the floor. He growled lowly as your chest was finally exposed to him, your breasts caged in a black lace bra. He noticed how your perk nipples pushed against the padding, as if your body was telling him where you needed his touch. Pushing your shirt past your shoulders, Lucifer tugged it off and cast it to the side, his hands finding the clasp of your bra to unhook it. The air of the room made your skin crawl, the swollen buds on your breasts aching from the cold.

"Arms behind your back, sit up straight."

You obliged willingly, weaving your fingers together to present your chest to him. Lucifer ran a hand over your breasts, squeezing roughly, eliciting a moan form you.

He snarled, lazily drawing out the words, "Nice fuckin' tits." Hearing this come from your friend's mouth shocked you, though his degrading tone had you clenching your walls. Lucifer landed a sharp slap on your tit, a red splotch newly painted on your skin. Your mouth hung agape in pleasure, panting softly as he landed several slaps, paying special attention to your nipples.

It brought him pure joy to see you like this - your body writhing in ways that begged for him to touch you, shaking thighs trying not to let you fall to the floor, the bit of spit that spilled from your mouth and onto your lovely breasts. Finally, you were becoming what he wished for: a perfect slut. His new favorite toy.

"Dirty girl," said Lucifer. Two of his fingers gathered the drool from your chest, immediately thrusting into your open mouth. You gagged harshly, but the way his free hand gripped your hair made you whimper. Lucifer's smile was crazed, the joy of seeing you like this had surmounted his self-control.

You coughed desperately when his fingers left your mouth. Two hands reached under your arms and hoisted you up to your feet. It would take some time for your knees to get stable at this point; you felt like you could drop to the floor at any second. Lucifer cupped your face in both hands and roughly crashed his lips into yours, his tongue already begging for entry at your lips. Letting him in allowed Lucifer to ravage your mouth - greedy lips and hands alike moved across your neck and face until Lucifer had his lips firmly on your collarbone.

"Please... please, sir," you whispered. What you were asking for, you had no idea. All you needed now was any bit of friction to your swollen clit.

Lucifer's husky voice danced over your skin, "Such good manners. What does my precious pet need?"

'Pet' echoed in your head while you tried to calm your senses and form something coherent. Your reply came out in short bursts between panting breaths.

"I need... more... Want you... to... touch me."

All thoughts had left your mind from his touch, the only ache in your body being for him. To serve. To obey.

He paused, fingers rolling a nipple harshly between his fingers, "Nope. That's not how it works."

You cried out in a blend of pain and pleasure.

"You don't need anything. You want me to touch you. You want me to fuck you, to bury my cock so far into that little cunt until you're nice and stretched out," his voice grew louder with each passing second. The dominating voice took you over completely, bringing tears to your eyes.

Though you were crying, Lucifer smiled at you, seeming pleased at the outburst.

"Be a good doggy," he ordered, "and beg."

Your voice came out more desperate than you intended, pleading desperately to him, "Please, sir. I want more of you. I can b-be good."

This settled well with Lucfier, his only reply being a finger pointed to the floor, a silent command to get on your knees again. You followed the order quickly, knees scraping lightly across the stone.

Now with his hips at your eye level, Lucifer looked down at your blushed face. Thoughts of Castiel flicked through your head - if he would be willing to take you like this, how much you would like it, and how nervous you were to ask him to do it himself. Even still, this seemed to be the next best thing. The Devil gripped your jaw gently with one hand, quickly unbuckling his belt with the other. His busy fingers fiddled with the button and zipper of his pants and cast them to the floor. What waited for you now was an aching erection through his boxer briefs, twitching slightly as your mouth neared it.

"I have one job for you," announced Lucifer. His hand moved from your jaw and into your hair, tightening his grip to control your head.

"Use your tongue."

With a snap of his fingers the boxers disappeared, his thick length breaking free and hovering tauntingly in front of you. Lucifer gripped the shaft of his cock and smacked it against your cheek. His expression showed his amusement at your drooling mouth and half lidded eyes.

He tapped the head of his cock on your lips, "Open."

And so you did. The thick head now rested on your outstretched tongue, tasting of the precum that had leaked from him. Lucifer positioned you by your gripped hair before thrusting into your throat, slowly at first. Inch by inch, your mouth took in his cock, until he reached the back of your throat with a displeased grunt. His thrusts became more urgent, pushing farther back into your mouth than you could handle.

Or so you thought.

Lucifer shoved your head down, the sounds of your gagging filling the room while your spit fell to the floor in messy strands. For what felt like an eternity this went on, his grunts growing louder as he used you.

He tugged you off of his length, leaving you to gasp beneath him. You coughed while tears streamed down your cheeks. Lucifer gave you another grin.

"Good doggy."

Hi again, I hope you enjoyed! If you would like a second chapter, let me know in the comments. Thank you all for your support. <3

-Bunny

#supernatural smut #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #spn #spnfandom #castiel x reader #castiel #lucifer x reader #lucifer supernatural

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sosa2imagines · 2 months

Text

Promises broken, promises kept.

Warnings- Angst, comfort and fluff, pregnancy. -----------------------------------------------------

"I'll never break your heart." You keep thinking about it, why did you believe that line? Isn't it obvious when someone says that, they will break your heart?!

When you had joined the Avengers, your sole purpose was to help save the world. But as days went by, you became friends with everyone. Especially closer to Steve. Looking after Bucky brought you both closer. But you guys never crossed the line beyond friendship. Things were good.

When the infinity war happened and Tony took retirement, while the rest turn to dust. The remaining you were devastated. While Natasha was trying her best to get to Clint, along with running the world, you and Steve found solace in each other. The first time it happened was, when Steve ended up having a nightmare about Bucky and he slept with you. After you had calmed him, you both ended up kissing each other and one thing led to another.

You had strictly made the pact to be only friends with benefits. And that's how it was. Most nights were spent in bed together having amazing sex. Steve was obsessed with every single curve on your body. But as time went by Steve started to fall for you or atleast that is what you think.

"I promise you Y/n I will never break your heart." How naïve of you to believe him. Despite your past experiences and he knowing about them, you gave in. You both were officially a couple.

When Scott showed up and the possibility of getting everyone back came true. Everyone got to work along with Tony. When everyone came back from the past with the stones, you all were mourning Natasha, but your heart hurt a little bit more when Steve just couldn't stop talking about how close he was to Peggy. Like a good listener you listened to him with a smile on your face and the night ending in sex. Getting everyone back came with another cost. You lost Tony. You couldn't even tell him he was going to be an uncle. Yes, you got pregnant, apparently little bit of carelessness cost you. But you were not complaining.

When you told Steve the good news, you were hoping for any reaction instead of a "That's great, I'm happy". You tried and tried to ignore the burning sensation. Maybe you are over-reacting or just thinking too much. Just a week before the actual day of going back in time to return the stones, Steve took part in the trial of the time machine. You were scared to death. But Steve promised you “Nothing will happen to me baby doll, I’ll come back to you. I promise” And nothing truly happened to him. He kept his promise. He came back safe and sound. Just not alone though. He came back with Peggy, holding her close to his side. Steve’s eyes never left Peggy who was looking around in awe. But you still had faith in him. Maybe he is just happy and nothing else.

Bruce was the first to break the silence, while Sam and Bucky stood next to you protectively. “What have you done? You can’t play with past, present and future!” Finally, Steve’s gaze falls on you all, before opening his mouth, “Look I know you all are upset.” Taking a step forward from the platform with Peggy. “Peggy wanted to see the future, I’m going to take her back when I go to return the stones.” Before anyone can say something else, Steve started introducing Peggy to everyone. “Sergeant Barnes, so good to see you.” Peggy smiles, “Yeah, Hi Peggy.” He replies somewhat uncomfortable about the situation, glaring at Steve. When it came to introduce you to Peggy, Steve was bit nervous. But he had no choice, since everyone around, except for Peggy, knew about your relationship with Steve. Having waited enough, you introduced yourself, “Hi Peggy, I’m Y/n, Steve’s girlfriend.” Peggy’s smile faded, the anger on her face, if looks could kill, Peggy just murdered you in more than ten ways.

Later that day when everyone was back in the compound, Steve refused to leave Peggy alone. He brought her back to your shared apartment, to live with you and him. “Peggy, please listen to me, it is not what you think like, I was alone here, you have no idea how much I have lost, that’s when Y/n came into my life and I found solace in her.” Steve explains with puppy dog like expression, Peggy was furious, how dare you steal her Steve? Peggy was not going to let that happen. She would make Steve realize, he belongs to her and not you. “Oh Steve, I’m back now, you are not alone anymore. We can live our life, just the way we wanted.” Steve was over the moon, when he heard Peggy say this. But at the same time, he knew this was not possible for them at the current moment and then there was you, carrying his child. “Y/n…she is pregnant.” Steve tells her hesitantly, Peggy was not in the mood to hear any of this, as much as she wanted to rip Steve apart, she knew she had to be careful, with her words. “Is it yours?” “I..think so” Steve lies, while Peggy smirks. “Then there’s nothing to worry about. Show me around darling, we have got little time for ourselves.” And that’s what he did, Steve spent his time with her. Even the nights were spent with her. Steve would often come to bed late, after you did go to sleep.

He took Peggy to all the places he has been with you. From museum, to the diner, to the secret lake just behind the park. Whatever Peggy wants, Steve does that. Thankfully, you did get some alone time with Steve, only when Peggy use to go for bath. Apart from that time, she would be stuck by his hip. “It’s feels like ages, I have spent some time with you Steve.” Steve looks at you when you mention that, giving you a half smile. “Oh, baby doll, are you jealous?” He teases, but that didn’t hurt you, the fact he can’t see the pain in your eyes, hurt you the most. One night on your way to the kitchen, you saw Steve and Peggy dancing, to close to comfort, her eyes were closed, head resting on his chest. While Steve looked at her in adoration. When he saw you, he gave you a curt nod and a smile which you returned.

Maybe, just maybe Steve is using this time to be with her, till she goes back again. Maybe just maybe you have nothing to worry about. The night before the big day, Steve at last came to bed early. You both ended up having the best sex! Something the way he was nuzzling into you made you feel something is not right. “Steve?” “Umm?” “I’m, scared.” “Don’t be scared Y/n, everything is fine.” The way he said your name instead of baby doll, made you flinch. He did never call you by your actual name. “You’ll come back to me, right?” “I promise you.”

The next day, Steve was standing on the platform with Peggy, looking very happy. His hand firm on her back. He looks at everyone, before finally glancing at you with a small smile. He nods to Bruce to start, and on a count of five Steve is back in the past with Peggy.

Bruce, Sam, Bucky and you waited and waited. Five hours went by, Bucky was the first to break the dreading silence. "He is not coming back, punk." Sam gave him a look to warn him about you, but you just raised your hand and instinctively held your stomach with your free hand and ran away from there. When you reached the apartment, shared apartment, you fell on the floor and cried your heart out. Everything hurt, the pain was unbearable. The loneliness and emptiness started to haunt you. The pictures of you and Steve were looking like they are laughing at your misery. You took each and every single frame and threw it on the floor with mighty force, removing your anger. Your appetite was lost, you barely took care of yourself, forgetting you are pregnant.

When no one heard from you for a week, Bucky and Sam came to meet you. When you didn't open the door, Sam thought you might be out, but Bucky felt something wrong so before Sam can stop him, Bucky broke the door. They met with the site of dirty house, picture frames broken, Bucky kept on calling your name, when he reached the bedroom his heart sank. You were lying unconscious on the ground. "SAM!". They both took you to the hospital. That's when the doctor told them that you are pregnant and suffering from stress and dehydration. Sam was furious and angry with Steve, while Bucky was in his own dilemma. 'Did Steve know? What if he does not know? When did you found out? Do you regret it? What are you going to do now? How will you do it alone?'

After some hours you regain consciousness. "Bucky?", the mention of his name brought him out of his thoughts. "Y'/n, how are you feeling?" "Bucky, what happened?" you ask voice barely above whisper. "Doll, you were unconscious, because of stress and dehydration." You panicked when Bucky told you that, hand immediately going on the stomach, Bucky sensed it and was quick to inform you "The baby is fine. But you need to rest and take good care." Relief washed over you, tears forming in your eyes. Bucky took hold of your hand, sitting next to you, "Y/n?" "Umm?" "Did...did Steve...did Steve know?" You cried at that question just nodding your head unable to talk, what you didn't realize was Bucky crying with you. Bucky couldn't believe Steve left you in this state. What was he thinking? This was not his best friend and brother. "I'm sorry Y/n, I'm so sorry", you and Bucky cried together, Sam left to give you both some privacy and to hide his own tears. "Are you going to...what have you decided...have you decided on anything?" "I'm going to keep it" you sniffle, Bucky nodded his head in response. "Let me help you please" you were about to interrupt before he raised his hand to let him speak first. "For friendship shake, you have done a lot for me, please let me be there for you."

Bucky was quick to convince you. You refused to go back to your and Steve's apartment. So Bucky took you to his. Now his minimal furniture home was full of furniture, in door plants and other necessities. You made his home, cozy and homely. You both took care of each other. And to be honest you were glad he was there for you. The cravings and mood swings were getting better of you.

Bucky did not complain once. Even when you made him to eat peanut butter and cheese sandwich. "Doll you sure, you are craving this?" he gulps nervously looking at you, while you are busy devouring the sandwich, in a muffled voice you replied "Oh just try it and even if you don't like it, I can eat it." Bucky tried and surprisingly he liked the combination and before he could actually finish the sandwich happily, you were looking at him with teary pouty look, okay not at him but his sandwich, which he hesitantly gave it to you.

One night you had a nightmare about Steve coming back to take your baby away, you cried hyperventilating, breathing becoming difficult, Bucky stayed all night with you, helping you. "Please don't go Bucky, stay with me please" you begged and Bucky was quick to cup your cheeks wiping your tears "Doll I'm always with you and no one is going to take away our child, I promise you." When Bucky said 'our child' you felt secure. Since that night Bucky was the father of your baby.

He didn't even get angry when on random times, you use to miss Steve. "What if he is stuck in time?" "Then, he will do anything to come back to you." "What if Peggy has forced him to stay?" "Then I promise you I'll go back in time and kill her." “Ste…Steve he promised, maybe I did something wrong….” Bucky cups your cheeks to stop you from rambling and getting nervous again “Hey, hey look at me Y/n, I believe you doll. You didn’t do anything wrong. Steve is a fucking idiot, he has no idea what he has lost. I promise you doll I will protect our child and I will never leave you.”

The last month of the pregnancy was difficult, with the constant fear of going into labor. Ten days were left for the baby to born. But on the fifth day you were restless. The fact that you were dealing with this pregnancy for so many months with all these struggles, pains and discomforts made Bucky feel so empathetic towards you. You were really strong minded still fighting it all and that's what he loved about you.

He saw that you were getting really restless and he knew what it meant. It was a clear signal that the baby might actually be coming today. He was nervous, but he needed to keep his calm and make sure everything was taken care of. He didn't want you to worry about a thing.

"There should be a machine, where the mother can transfer the womb into the father...ow!" You tried to joke to ease the pain. "Wow! That's a really nice idea. If only we could get that machine and I could do the whole process in my body instead of you going through all these pains and discomforts." Bucky replied keeping the humor. "No! I don't want you to be in pain" you cried, damn mood swings! He laughed at this statement of yours. The way you were being so protective of him even in this phase was very sweet. "Oh doll! It's the other way around. I wouldn't want you to be going through all these discomforts either. I'd take all the pain myself if I could."

"I really appreciate that Bucky....oh my god" you whined in pain. Bucky was watching you as you were pacing back and forth. As soon as you said "oh my god" he got up, his instinct was already kicking in and he ran to hold you. He was watching you closely because he knew you had started getting contractions now.

"Please tell me the wetness on the floor is something else", as he looked at the floor, it was wet and his face changed. He knew what that meant. He took your hands to comfort you. "Your water broke. We need to go to the hospital now and as fast as possible."

"Nah, I must have peed, I need to sleep!" He could feel that you were getting more and more nervous, going into a panic right now. So he needed to support you more than ever now. He was trying to keep you calm but it was hard. "It's okay doll. I know you're not ready for it but it's only natural that it should happen. You can do it my love. I'm going to be right here besides you, so don't worry at all."

He was holding you tightly and making sure that you didn't fall down. He was being so protective of you right now, trying to support and keep you calm. He didn't want you to panic right now as that the last thing he wanted during this stage.

"Don't forget the bag and call Sam to help you." Again, you were thinking about him, when you supposed to think about yourself and the baby. He quickly rushed into the other room to bring the bag which had all the items you would need. He returned soon with the bag in his hands. Bucky carried you in his arms towards the car, making you sit comfortably. He immediately calls Sam to inform him.

Your contractions were getting a little bit more painful now as you started struggling with the pain. Bucky was very calm even at this very moment. He had a sense of responsibility that he needed to take care of you. Your condition was clearly deteriorating and he needed to stay composed and strong for you. As he started driving, he was just trying to keep you calm and make you breathe slow and deep. You tried to distract yourself by focusing on the people on the road, to thinking about food, even the new Sylvester Stallone movie. Bucky was proud to see you being brave despite being in pain.

As soon as you reached the hospital you were taken to the maternity ward. The delivery was complicated, you nearly fainted twice, Bucky kept on encouraging you, telling you how proud he is. Labor was hard. But with lots of struggle your daughter was born. Healthy half super solider. When you held her, you cried but this time because of happiness. In the end the pain was worth it. Bucky was scared to hold her, but you encouraged him. When your baby girl got comfortable in his arms, Bucky couldn't believe it. He felt so many emotions. He secretly vowed to protect you both and keep you happy.

The nurse asked if you had decided on a name for the baby, which you immediately told her with confidence and no hesitation "Natalia Sarah Barnes." Bucky was shocked, he asked the nurse to give you some time to think, but you refused to change the name. The nurse left and Bucky looked at you for confirmation. "Doll, you gave Natalia my last name" "I know after all she is your daughter, Bucky" "I'm not...are you sure?....you can" before he can finish you spoke again, "Bucky remember when I had the nightmare about Steve taking her away?" Bucky nodded "You said you will protect our child, since then she was yours." Bucky was speechless, his eyes teary Natalia in his arms, he couldn't believe you gave her his last name.

Unlike Steve, Bucky never broke the promises he made to you and your daughter. He was a man of his words. He would do anything for you both.

As years went by things were starting to look good. Natalia was three now. Bucky was her dad and she was proud of him. Of course, you had told her about Steve, but it was her decision on what she wants to do.

As for you and Bucky, you both know, your relationship is more than just friendship, but at the moment you both are focusing more on Natalia rather than yourselves. But the possibilities of you both being together is endless.

----------------------------------------------------- @ashhsage I hope you like this, and sorry it took so much of time to get it done. -----------------------------------------------------

#sebastian stan characters #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers x reader angst #bucky barnes x reader #chris evans characters

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