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snelbz · 1 year

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Better Or Worse {10}

Nessian. Angst. Modern AU.

@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab

Better or Worse Masterlist

Warnings: language.

We sit in Gwyn’s office, holding hands on the couch.

The last few weeks have been good. Really good. Cassian has slept with me every night, his arms around me, tucked in close to him. We’ve kissed, we’ve snuggled, but nothing more has happened, even though I’ve been tempted.

Especially when I can feel my husband’s cock against me for half the night and in the morning, long, thick, and hard.

I know it’s been trying for him, I know he’s wanted me, I know he’s been holding himself back, but he hasn’t tried anything. Even if I’ve wanted him to, not that I’ve said anything to him, but sometimes when we’re lying there all I want is for him to slip a hand in my clothes, to touch me, tease me, fuck me until I’m nothing but a puddle in his hands.

Still, he’s respected my boundaries. He always has, which is one of the many reasons why I fell in love with him in the first place.

Even if I think I’m ready to take that next step, to have sex again — protected, of course. Double protection. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be ready to try and have kids again, and if it happens by accident…

I shake the thought away before I can psych myself out. Sex, with my husband. I think I’ll bring it up soon, very soon. Either that or I’ll just try jumping him once we’re in bed.

Something tells me that he’d like that. A lot.

“Nesta?”

“Hmm?” I know my cheeks are warm as I focus my attention back on Gwyn. Apparently she had asked me something while I was lost in my lust filled daydream. I look at Cassian.

He’s grinning, like he knows perfectly well where my mind has gone.

He’s always known my tells.

“Cassian said you two have been sleeping in the same bed every night,” she says, politely, as always. “What has that meant to you?”

“Oh.” I clear my throat. “Yeah, it’s been great. I’ve forgotten how much more…I don’t know, secure I feel when he’s in bed with me. I’m more at ease when he’s sleeping beside me. Comforted.”

“So it’s been a good change?” she pushes.

“A great change,” I say, and when I look at Cassian again, his eyes have softened.

My knees are weak.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” Gwyn says, closing her notebook and I have no idea how an hour has already passed. It always seems to go so quickly. “After reflecting on your progress, I think it’s time that you two took the next step. At this point, I usually recommend a couple’s vacation. It gives you time to ignore the real world and just focus on one another for a few days without any interruption.”

“A couples vacation?” Cassian asks, intrigued. “That sounds—”

“I can’t.” The words are out of me before I can stop them. Cassian’s smile has faltered. “I just…my new book is set to come out next month and there’s still so much to do. I have nonstop deadlines. Unless we wait until after—”

“After you’ll have to do press shit,” Cassian says, his voice quiet, and I can tell he’s trying to keep his calm. “You’ll be even busier after the release than you are now. I think getting away for a few days would be good for us. I can sneak away from the restaurant for a long weekend, at least, and if I can ignore my work for a few days, you can, too.”

Don’t snap. I take a deep breath. “You don’t understand—”

“Then bring your laptop with you,” he suggests, taking a deep breath of his own. He looks at me. “You can get some work done in the mornings, then we can be together later in the day.”

“I would recommend keeping your laptop at home,” Gwyn says, as if she was preparing for my argument. “If you bring it, it will be all you want in front of you, it will be all you’re thinking about. As Cassian said, you can even go for just a long weekend. Thursday through Monday. Find someplace you want to go, relax and reconnect for a few days, then come back and resume your work schedule.”

I nibble on my lip and I know that Cassian is looking at me, waiting for me to respond, so I don’t make eye contact. “I just…I’m sorry, I don’t think I can right now, it’s not a good time.”

Cassian drops my hand, but before he can say something out of his frustration, Gwyn says, “Why don’t the two of you think about it and talk about it? Nothing has to be decided today, but I do think it will be good for you.”

Cassian says nothing else but I nod. We wrap up our session and make our way to my car, which Cassian hates because he’s a giant and can hardly fit in the passenger seat, but the truck had a flat tire and we didn’t have time to change it before we had to leave to make our appointment. If I know Cassian at all, which I do, I bet he’ll be angry-changing the tire the second we get home.

He opens the passenger side door the second I unlock the car and shifts awkwardly into the seat until he’s comfortable enough before closing the door.

Opening my own door, I get in the car and turn the engine over, glancing in the mirrors before putting the car in reverse.

“It’s four days, Nes.”

Sighing, I shift back into park. “Four days is a lot longer than you think.” I don’t mention that I get the bulk of my writing done on Friday and Saturday nights when he’s at the restaurant. Uninterrupted time isn’t something I get often, so a long weekend is too long for me to be away. “I can’t take any time off from edits, Cassian, not if I want the book to come out on time.”

He doesn’t immediately say anything, so I shift into reverse and start heading home. “It’s not that I don’t want to, but the timing isn’t great. We can do it later, I promise, but right now isn’t good.”

“It’ll never be a good time,” he says, slumping down in his seat. It makes him look like a petulant child.

“I just said we can go after the book comes out,” I say, trying my best to keep my tone calm, but I can hear the bite in my voice.

He turns to face me in the car, his shoulder pressing against the window in the process. “I think we should go now. We’ve been doing great, Nesta, this can only help.”

I get where he’s coming from, and I’m really trying to keep my rising temper in check, but it’s challenging. “I agree, but I already have Eris up my ass—”

“I don’t give a fuck about Eris,” Cassian snaps. His calm demeanor has vanished. I should’ve known that he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. His temper, even worse than mine, has always been a stumbling block.

“Well, you should, because he’s the reason I’ve been so successful,” I snap back. “He’s given me a schedule, I’m following that schedule, I have no choice but to follow the damn schedule, and there’s nowhere on that schedule that says I have time for a four day vacation.”

“Four days is nothing!” He shouts.

“I don’t expect you to understand, Cassian,” I hiss, “but I didn’t get to where I’m at because I neglected to do what’s necessary. I have fucking deadlines, and I’ve told you that I can’t fucking go, so I can’t fucking go.”

His jaw snaps shut and there’s a storm in his eyes that I haven’t seen in weeks. He stares at me for a moment, and even though I look back to the road, I can feel his eyes lingering. We ride like that, him staring at me, pissed; the silence overwhelming until we pull onto our street.

Once I pull into the driveway, he’s already got the door open before I can even put the car in park, as if he can’t stand to be within a confined space with me for a second longer.

Good.

I can’t stand him at the moment, either.

He’s being unreasonable, refusing to see where I’m coming from.

As I expected, he’s storming toward his truck in the garage, opening the hatch to grab the spare tire. Without another look in his direction, I go inside.

Greg greets me, and I curse Cassian outloud to my furbaby before going straight for the wine cabinet. I pour a glass but don’t drink it. Instead, I lean on the counter, letting my face fall into my hands.

What the hell is happening?

I went into Gwyn’s office today excited to talk about our progress, and now I feel like we’ve made no progress at all.

Or maybe we have made progress and that’s the issue.

I know there are worse things than my husband wanting to spend time with me, but he just doesn’t get it. He has no idea what it takes to be a published author, and I know I’ve subjected myself to my job too much in the past few years, but I don’t want to let my readers down.

I stay leaning against the counter, closing my eyes, taking deep breaths. I don’t want this to get out of hand. I can’t let this get out of hand.

Cassian’s right. We’ve been doing really well. And a little couple’s vacation would be good for us. Great, in fact, especially now that I’m ready to be intimate again. We don’t need to be having these stupid little fights. Even if I feel passionately about what I’m fighting for, I know he does, too.

I try to think of a compromise.

After taking a sip from my wine glass, I wander to the backdoor, where I can see through the little window into the garage. Cassian, with his jacket now off, is tightening the spare. His brow is set, his lips thinned, and he’s tightening the bolts probably way more than he should.

Cauldron help him next time he has to change that tire.

I watch as he finishes up, but rather than come inside, he continues around to each tire, checking them out one by one. Rolling my eyes, I take another drink of my wine and retrieve my laptop before settling in at the kitchen counter. Clearly, Cassian isn't interested in coming inside yet, so I’ll just sit and wait until he is.

It’s nearly twenty minutes later before the back door opens, my husband entering with grease on his hands and his hair tied back. When his eyes fall on my computer open before me, I can almost feel the ire radiating off of him. He doesn’t speak to me, goes straight to the sink and begins washing his hands.

Plopping my chin in my hand, I ask, “Do you think Skull’s Bay is nicer this time of year or the Coronal Islands?”

He’s in the process of trying to get the grease out from under his nails when he freezes and looks at me.

When he doesn’t say anything, I hum. “Or maybe Adriata. We’ve been there before, but who says it has to be somewhere new.”

Cassian turns off the tap, wiping his hands off on one of the kitchen towels. Turning to face me, he leans a hip on the counter and slings the towel over his shoulder. “When?”

I clear my throat. “I was looking at flights for next weekend.”

He’s moving before the words are fully out of my mouth, crossing the kitchen. “I promise, baby, this is going to be worth it.”

“I have some conditions though.” I push my laptop to the side, the travel sites half forgotten. “I know Gwyn said I should leave my computer. I can’t, Cass. There physically isn’t enough time for me to take four full days off.”

“That’s fine,” he agrees, his eyes bright.

Toying with the stem of my wine glass, I add, “I’m also probably going to be…distant in the days leading up to the flight.”

That grants him pause. “Why?”

“Because I’m going to try and get as much done as I possibly can before we leave, so I can ignore my laptop as much as I can while we’re there.”

Cassian stares at me.

I stare back.

“If you can’t go—”

“Are you seriously trying to persuade me not to go now that I’ve made up my mind that I’m going?” I scold. “Cassian—”

“I was pressuring you,” he says, shaking his head. “I don’t want to pressure you.”

It only occurs to me now that I’ve put him in a tough position. Since we’ve been distant with one another, since things have been weird, he’s probably extra cautious about pressuring me into things.

I hesitate.

He picks up on it.

“Cassian—”

“If you can’t go—”

“I want to go—”

“But if you really can’t—”

“I want to go!” I laugh, unable to control the countless emotions running through me. I’m frustrated, but also excited and vulnerable. I stare at him, shaking my head. “I want to go. I just need you to meet me halfway. I know it’s not ideal—”

“You’ll go?” He asks, interrupting me.

I nod, taking a step towards him. “You were right. This will be good for us. I owe us this.”

Cassian is looking at me like he doesn’t believe a damn word that comes out of my mouth, and it hurts. Yet, he nods. “Okay.”

I haven’t realized how close we’re standing, how near he is to me. His eyes are still searching mine, his disbelief and suspicion on full display.

“It’s almost as if you’re the one that no longer wants to go,” I say, quietly, and I mean it as a joke, to try and ease the tension, but it doesn’t come out like one.

Cassian doesn’t disagree. He says, “I’ve learned not to get my hopes up. I’ll believe we’re going when we’re on the plane. Until then…” he shrugs and takes another step closer.

He’s close enough that I can breathe him in. I want to reach up and run my hands down his chest, but I don’t. I just meet his gaze. “Aren’t we supposed to be working on trust? Trust me a little, Cass.”

“I trust you,” he says, and I note how his eyes dart to my lips for a split second. “But I also know you. You’re saying you want to go because you feel guilty, not because you’d rather be on vacation than here, working. I also know that when you’re stressed, it’s impossible for you to enjoy yourself or, you know, be pleasant.” He reaches up and brushes his thumb along my bottom lip. “Promise me that we’re going, and that we’re going because it’s what you want to do, and that you won’t get sucked into work while we’re there.”

“I promise,” I say, and I allow myself to touch him now, sliding my hands up his chest and around his neck. “I promise I want to go and have this time with you.”

He searches my eyes for another minute before nodding, and his eyes are back to being bright and filled with excitement as a small smile twists his lips. His arms snake around my waist as he says, “Good.”

Making my promise more convincing, I kiss him.

Whatever tenuous hold my husband had on his self-control snapped, just like I expected it to.

He crushed me against his chest, his lips devouring mine. I wasn’t surprised when I felt his tongue against the seam of my lips, begging for entrance. I parted for him, relishing in the feel of his kiss.

It had been so damn long since he kissed me like this.

My nails dug into his back as I kissed him back and before I knew it, he was cupping my ass, lifting me up and setting me down atop the counter. He no longer had to hunch over to kiss me, nearly the same height now and I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders.

Cassian stepped between my legs, tugging me toward the edge of the counter, his mouth still ravaging mine.

This passion, this heat between us was what had drawn us together in the first place. He was my match, my equal, as ravenous for me as I was for him. In ten years, that fire had never gone out.

Until it did. And that’s something I will never let happen again.

I gasped as Cassian ground himself against me, his length thick and hard, telling me that this was affecting him as much as it was me. The second I broke the kiss, his lips found my neck, sucking and teasing the sensitive skin there.

I moan, quietly, and his hands on my upper thighs tighten. My head falls to the side, giving him better access and he licks his way up the side of my neck until he’s nibbling at my jaw, then trailing back down until his mouth is sucking at my collarbone. My hands can’t stay still, can’t stay off of him, and I don’t even realize that they’re slipping beneath his shirt until he growls against my skin. I don’t give it a second thought. I pull his t-shirt up and he leans back, meeting my gaze as I pull it over his head and toss it aside. His lips are swollen and he’s breathing heavily, his eyes wild and full of lust. I lay my palms flat against his chest and run them down his stomach, my fingers running over every hard, defined muscle before I grab him by the waistband of his jeans and pull him back to me.

My legs wrap around him, getting him as close to me as possible, as our mouths clash. There’s nothing holding us back, not anymore, not now. He’s kissing me like he needs me to breathe, and the throbbing between my thighs has become nearly unbearable. Needing any sort of friction, I rock my hips against him and he groans into my mouth as he pushes off my sweater and grabs my breasts through my t-shirt.

Apparently not finding that good enough, my shirt is quickly removed, and it’s only then that Cassian’s mouth leaves mine. He reaches behind me and unclasps my bra. I’ve always known that my breasts were one of my husband’s favorite assets of mine, and I can’t even remember the last time he’s seen them.

He makes a show of it, dropping my bra, releasing the hook and letting it fall. I sit still, letting him admire me. As he does, I glance down where I can see him perfectly outlined in his jeans, doing a little admiring myself.

His eyes, impossibly dark, rove over me, his hand clasping the back of my neck as he kisses me again. Then he’s lowering me back, down against cool marble of the countertop. My gasp as the shock of the cold surface presses into my skin has me throwing my head back and his lips are no longer near mine.

I feel his warm breath against my stomach, just beneath my belly button, and I freeze. He presses the gentlest, most unexpectedly sweet kiss to the slight dip there, before trailing upward with another and another.

I was so focused on his mouth that I didn’t notice his hands until one was cupping the swell of one full breast. Arching into him, I whimper softly when his fingers brush over my nipple, the sensitive bud tightening almost immediately under his touch. His thumb sweeps it the other way before his forefinger joins in, rolling it between them. I’m unable to stop my groan as I look down to find his eyes w bb already on mine.

And his lips hovering over my other breast.

With slow, restrained movements, Cassian lowers his mouth, letting his tongue drag over my nipple. Fighting to keep my eyes open, my hand dives into his hair, his own hand working my other breast in time with his tongue.

I curse, which only encourages him. I can’t keep my eyes open any longer as his teeth graze my nipple.

I shift beneath him, a curse on the tip of my tongue, but then my phone is vibrating on the counter a few feet away. Unable to help it, I glance over and see Eris’s name flashing across the screen.

Every thought I have leaves my mind.

My first instinct is to reach for it, but I hesitate. Then again, if it’s something important, I need to know now. Especially considering we’re now going on this vacation and I have to get as much shit done as possible before we go.

He must sense the fact that I’m distracted, because he looks up at me. “Ignore it.”

I should ignore it.

I know I should ignore it.

But whatever the hell Eris has to say is all I can think about. He rarely calls after my office hours, only with important news to relay.

Cassian sucks my nipple between his lips once more as I say, “Cass.”

He freezes, his body tensing, and looks up at me again.

“Just…it’ll only be a minute.”

His brows furrow but then the recognition hits as I reach across the counter and grab my phone, just as it stops ringing. I sit up, moving Cassian away from me as I do. When I unlock my phone to call Eris back, Cassian speaks up.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” His voice is quiet, his breathing still ragged. “Can’t this wait until we’re done?”

“It’ll only be a minute,” I say, pleadingly. “I promise. Then we’ll pick up where we left off—”

“No.”

My thumb stills where it hovers above Eris’s contact information. His voice is still quiet, but there’s an edge to it. “No?”

“Don’t, not right now,” he says, and steps between my legs again. He palms my breasts as his lips find my neck.

“Cass, it’ll only be a minute.” The words barely leave me before my phone starts ringing again. Apparently Eris isn’t waiting for me to call him back.

Against my better judgment, I answer the call.

The warmth of Cassian’s body on mine is gone immediately and he’s scooped his shirt off the floor and is headed for the living room before I can speak.

But that’s mostly because Eris doesn’t give me the chance.

“Checked your email lately?”

I blink. My email? What about my email could be so important he’s calling me so late? “No, I’ve been busy this evening. Why, what’s—?”

“Your extension has been approved.”

My entire being goes still. “Oh.”

Pulling my phone away from my ear, I quickly skimmed over the email sitting in my inbox.

I had emailed one of the reps for the publishing company earlier, asking about an extension on the release. Although Eris is usually the go-between between the company and I, I’ve always had a good relationship with them. I’ve never missed any major deadlines or had a delayed release, but only because Eris would never allow it. I wasn’t even sure what the process to officially request for one was.

So I sent an email asking for information.

Apparently, all I’d needed to do was inquire, with my stellar reputation with them.

I hadn’t mentioned it to Cassian because, like he said, I hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up.

“We don’t have time for an extension, Nesta.” He sounded calm, but I knew he was anything but. He was likely pacing, AirPod in one ear, his fingers steepled together. It was his standard not happy pose. “You are not pushing back this release.”

“I have to,” I argue. “I have too much on my plate right now. I need more time.”

“Do you know what I need, Nes?” Unlike when Cassian shortened my name, I hated when Eris did it. It sounded condescending and it infuriated me. “I need the final ten chapters emailed to the editors by Tuesday. I need you to respond to the email I sent you about cover artwork for the special edition we’re releasing later this year. I need you to get to work and leave the publishers to me.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “And if I say I can’t do that?”

“You will,” he says, tone final, and hangs up.

I sigh, dropping my phone on the counter. My hands rub down my face before I look back up, expecting to see my husband there.

But he’s not.

I didn’t even notice that he had left the room.

“Cassian?”

He doesn’t respond.

And later that night, he never comes to bed.

#better or worse #nessian #nessian bow #acotar #acomaf #acowar #nesta x cassian #nesta acotar #cassian #snacmc collabs #snelbz x theladyofdeath collab

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kim-poce · 2 years

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4. No God In Town: Up The Mountain

On Patreon (two weeks earlier release)

First | Previous | Next | Masterlist

Being hard to reach is one of my pre-requirements to move to a new place, it’s like an unsaid warning that I do not want visits, I do not want a human to come to my house. I just want to be alone and in peace. But now that I was willingly and by my own decision taking the cubs home the path felt unnecessarily hard.

The only easy thing on the path was to get lost, the path was barely marked if all (the only clear parts were near my cabin and near the city), the terrain was too slippery and some parts are so steep that I have to climb rather than walk. Even with all the obstacles, no cub complained once, I’m not an idiot, so of course, I paused our group several times on the way so the small humans could catch a breath.

“WOW!” The clapping cub said when we finally reached the front of the cabin, he was excitedly looking at everything he could see under the tree-filtered dim moonlight. “It looks so normal!”

“I’m normal, so of course, my place will be as normal,” I protested, maybe if I said it angry-like enough it would sound believable somehow. “There isn’t much to see here anyway so you don't need to look around this thoughtfully.”

I had taken down as few trees as possible when I moved to the cabin, so there wasn’t much to look at that they wouldn’t be able to see in any other part of the mountain, if there was anything worth noting was a tapestry on the front door that I got as a gift in the past and a dead garden I had given up (vegetables and herbs are already hard, flowers? This is witchcraft), apart from that–

I remembered. I froze.

“What is this?” the flower cub asked, pointing at one very not normal thing to own. Things that even if I was willing to I was not able to answer.

It looked like a solid wooden cube unless you were less than a meter close, then it would change. To what? That’s a good question, it has no form, and I’m still to find out what bases it uses to change its form.

“That’s mine,” I said awkwardly for the lack of better words, and before I could ask the cub to move away from it the rest of the cubs got closer, the mint cub flinched at whatever he saw but it still didn’t make him back away.

“What are you guys seeing?” the cursing cub asked, tilting her head to the side. She was leaning closer to the 'cube' while carefully keeping the clapping cub from touching it. “Because I’m sure you wouldn’t be this close if you were seeing what I'm seeing.”

“I have no idea what I’m looking at, to be honest,” the clapping cub said, finally walking away from the cube. “You are right, Biggie, this place is as normal as you.”

“That’s enough,” I said, walking to them and getting them away from the cube. My cores pulsed as if about to blow, and if my ‘blood’ ran any faster it would start changing my appearance and that was what I didn’t need.

“This- this isn’t mine,” I tried, for someone as old as me I sure couldn't hold a conversation sometimes.

“You said it was yours earlier, tho” the mint cub pointed out.

I froze again, calling them here was a bad idea, a very very bad idea. Should I erase their memory? It was risky as I often meet them, but this would be the better option, right? It was just I can be safe, I can’t have them remembering things like th-

“Biggie!” the flower cub called, snapping me out of my own mind. “You are staring at us again.”

“S-sorry.” What was wrong with me today?

“Well,” the clapping cub said, snapping his fingers. Both he and the rest of them seemed to still be completely fine and comfortable around me, even after looking at something that would make the humans centuries back fall on their knees and pray, trying to interpret the meaning of whatever they saw in the cube. “We finished looking around here, it’s a lot more normal than I thought it would be, should we get in now?”

I watched the cubs, I knew they knew I wasn’t human but to think they would be this okay with something so strange even I don’t get, it was… nice, somehow, it felt as if I wouldn’t be judged no matter what I did, no matter who I am.

I let go of such feelings as soon as they came, it was dangerous, and I only wanted a peaceful life. I will need to call my memories as soon as I’m alone, I’ll not allow myself to be a target again.

“You can go in,” I said, telling myself that they don’t even know what they were looking at, so it doesn’t matter for now. “I have fruits and mushrooms in a basket if you want, I don’t have meat but I can hunt something in the morning if you like.”

“We want meat, yes,” the cursing cub said at the same time the clapping cub said, “You don’t need to feed us if you don’t want to.”

“I want to.”

“Then we’ll be grateful!” The flower cub said, slightly bowing out of courtesy. The gesture made my skin itch but I tried my best not to show it (it wasn’t hard, my expression and humans’ expression rarely are alike.).

While they made themselves comfortable I made tea (not mint tea as I wanted but what kind of recluse supernatural being would I be if I don't have a collection of tea leaves?). The night became even colder by the time the tea was ready, and the cubs sat down on the carpet, taking warmth from each other and the cup of tea. Maybe I should buy a few extra blankets next time I go down the town. Just in case.

“So,” the mint cub started. “How old are you, Biggie?”

“I don’t see how that is relevant,” I say, more warily than I intended. I sipped my tea with the calmest corporal expression I could, my anger will always be read as god’s wrath, so I have to keep it as invisible as possible.

“I’m a lot older than you if this is what you want to know.”

“That I can see-” he looked at my very not human appearance and my very uncommon characteristics. “No I can’t see it, but I guessed, anyway, I wanted to ask if you have cool stories to tell, we always talk about ourselves but you are just a walking mystery.”

“I like the idea,” the cursing cub said with a grin. “I’m sure you have a lot of interesting things in your life.”Interesting. That was not the word I would use to talk about myself, I was about to deny the request when a particular memory came to mind, “...I think I might have this one story to tell.”

#no god in town #original fiction #original writing #fantasy #fantasy writing #my writing

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐) || sub!bucky barnes x dominatrix!reader

(𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐)

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || your newest client asks you to give him a real challenge, and you’re happy to oblige.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 6.3k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut but no actual sex (lots of handjob stuff though and some brief oral m receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, more cnc (because of the overstimulation), bondage, edging, impact play (riding crop), brief cock torture (she just hits him with the crop a couple times), implied “kink as trauma response” (this is gonna be a theme throughout the whole fic), forced to break a rule/doomed to fail/impossible challenge (idk how to warn for this but yeah), forced voyeurism?, thigh riding (reader rides bucky’s thigh), some degradation/dumbification, brief/implied dacryphilia, a bit of angst/feelings

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“Can’t,” he sighed, “can’t come again.”

He looked so painfully adorable when he begged like that, his brow glistening with sweat as he jerked under your touch. “Aw, poor baby,” you pouted, twisting your hand when it stroked over the head of his cock, “yes you can. I know you can. Just gimme one more.”

“F-fuck,” he whimpered, “Mistress, please— just stop, please, I can’t… can’t take any more…”

“I know you can, sweetheart— I know you can be my good boy and keep coming for me. Tell me your color.”

“Yellow,” he whispered.

“Think you’re almost done?” you pressed, smiling when he nodded breathlessly. “Yeah, there’s my good boy— gonna come again for your Mistress?”

“Yes,” he breathed, baring his teeth as his hips bucked wildly to try to avoid further sensation, “y-yes, one more, just one more, I’m gonna— fuck, gonna come, just don’t stop… fuck, it hurts.”

“I know, but you’re being so good for me,” you purred. “You like it when I milk your pretty cock, don’t you? Even though it hurts?”

He winced but nodded. “C-coming, Mistress, fuck, I’m coming…!”

Since it was his fifth of the evening, he could only give you one thick drop of come that gathered at his slit before running down over your hand which finally slowed to a stop.

You both sighed with relief as you pulled your hand away and leaned back, admiring how beautiful he looked as he caught his breath, covered in come and sweat.

"Good job," you praised with a chuckle, "I hope I didn't go too hard on you."

"N-no, that was… that was really good," he sighed, slumping back onto the bed. "Can I use your shower before I go?"

"Yeah, totally," you nodded.

After a long pause, you gave him a confused look.

"I thought you were gonna shower?" you reminded him.

"Oh… I guess I have to get up for that," he sighed, making you laugh.

"Rest a bit longer. You've had a… challenging afternoon."

He nodded a little and you got up from the bed to go wash your hands and freshen up a little, smiling at your own appearance in the mirror— sometimes you forgot how you looked when you did this, but there was an undeniable aura of power around you… especially after a session like that.

This was only your third week with James, and already the dynamic felt so natural between you— and yet, so fresh compared to your other clients. Normally it took longer for a newbie to get comfortable with you, yet most of them had had multiple doms before and here was James, totally inexperienced and taking it all like a champ. There was an air of innocence about him, you figured, in contrast to this undeniable strength and intensity that you caught glimpses of from time to time.

Sometimes, it felt like he was chasing an innocence he lost a long time ago. Whatever it was that drew him to this, you were happy to help him along the way.

It was probably a little dangerous to enjoy sessions with a client so much; even though you often pretended that everything was about your pleasure and not theirs, obviously since they were the paying customer it was the complete opposite in reality. But there was an equity to the dynamic with you and Bucky, he served you with a real dedication rather than for his own gain. And you, meanwhile, had rediscovered the fun in this career that had originally drawn you to it in the first place. It was less like a science now, more like an art— you let yourself go with your instincts and do whatever felt right in the moment, and both of you benefitted for it.

“Come on, get up and clean yourself off,” you encouraged— gently, of course— as you left the bathroom and returned to find James laying sprawled out on the bed.

“I know you said falling asleep here was a one-time courtesy,” he remembered with a smile, “but I could use it now a lot more than I needed it then.”

Honestly, you didn’t see him smile that often. It was pleasant; you hoped to see it again. He did get up, though, and take the washcloth you handed him to wipe off the come that had gotten all over him. “What are you thinking for next week?” you asked as you leaned against the wall. “Any special requests?”

“We can discuss all that over the phone,” he decided. You still didn’t understand fully why he didn’t like to discuss future scenes in person; it was like he wanted the in-person interactions to be as ‘in character’ (if you will) as possible.

“Alright, just keep me updated,” you requested with a shrug.

You got changed while he took his shower, and when he emerged to the living room he seemed surprised to see you sitting on your own couch. After a moment, you realized it was the fact that you were in normal clothes that threw him off. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in jeans before… or pants of any kind.”

You looked down at your outfit with a smile, glad it was at least still professional and not sweats and a t-shirt or something. “Yeah, I guess you haven’t. First time for everything, right?”

“Yeah, had a lot of first times with you,” he chuckled. “Most significantly less mundane than this.”

A brief silence filled the room but it wasn’t exactly awkward, at least not for you.

“Well, I’ll see you next week,” he decided as he grabbed his jacket from your chair and slipped it on. You’d been spending most of this session trying to forget how good he looked in the leather motorcycle cut, so that was out the window now as you tried to keep from visibly biting your lip while he walked towards the door.

Damn, he was fine. But there were more pressing matters at hand. Like preparing yourself and your apartment for your next appointment. This guy wanted to get slapped around until he cried… shouldn't be too difficult, but your arms would probably be sore tomorrow.

Opposite of last week, I really want you to edge me tonight, as long as possible.

Don't go easy on me, make me hold it in. I need a challenge this week.

-J

It was odd how emails from James made your week.

He seemed to prefer to communicate his desire with you this way; maybe it was easier for him, and you couldn’t really blame him for that. The nice part was that you didn’t have to temper your reactions, if you had any, since you were always alone when you got his messages. You might be old hat at it now, but you could remember a time that you had to hide a grimace when a client told you to your face what he wanted. Not that you would shame them for it or anything (unless, you know, they paid you to), but you didn’t enjoy everything you did with these men.

Did you enjoy everything you did with James? Yes, but you were pretending not to— for your own sake.

You dressed a bit differently for today’s session, more conservatively… not that it was especially conservative by any other person’s standards. But it left your legs and chest covered, somewhat in the spirit of ‘mean corporate businesswoman’ aesthetically. For some reason you felt like using a riding crop required wearing pants.

James certainly didn’t seem to mind, with the way he nervously cleared his throat after you opened the door.

“Good to see you again,” you greeted formally, “please, come in.”

He stepped past you, still looking at you and not at what was in front of him, meaning he ended up slamming himself gut-first into your kitchen island.

“Oh! Are you alright?” you smiled when you noticed.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he nodded, rubbing his stomach for a second but recovering quickly. “I told you I can take a lot of pain,” he joked.

“Well, we’re going to put that to the test today,” you promised cryptically. “You must’ve seen the crop on the table.”

He nodded again. “Yeah....”

“Are you looking forward to it?”

“Yes,” he answered, a bit too quickly.

“Then let’s get you tied up, James.”

Straddling his lap, you realized the rope was a bit too tight when you saw it digging into his skin; maybe he wouldn’t mind that, but you did, so you pushed the rope back through itself to loosen it slightly.

“How long did it take you to learn all these knots?” he asked casually, watching your fingers nimbly work the ropes around his wrists.

“Not too long,” you shrugged, “I’ve only been doing this a few years… but I knew them before that.”

“Boating school? Boy Scouts?” he suggested jokingly.

“Just a hobby,” you decided, dodging the covert question about your past. “Were you a Boy Scout?”

“Do I look like a Boy Scout?” he countered with a scoff.

“Not anymore,” you shrugged, “but I bet you did once. You’re sorta innocent, you know.”

He swallowed dryly, and you raised an eyebrow as you glanced from the knot you were tightening to his face, which looked a bit flustered. “R-really?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, leaning back on your heels to look at him straight-on. “Are you surprised to hear that?”

He nodded quickly, and you laughed.

“Aw, you thought you were so kinky, huh? So dirty,” you purred, running your hand up his leg until he tugged slightly on the newly-tied ropes— a subtle way to get him to test them for you. “But you’re really not. You’re just my sweet, innocent boy.”

He whined— really, properly whined— and you dug your nails into his skin until he hissed instead.

“I don’t think you believe me,” you noticed, leaning back to reach for the crop behind you. “You think you’re so filthy and perverted, right? Are you a pervert, James?”

“Yes,” he breathed, shivering as you let the crop slide gently over his skin— his abs, his hips, his legs which were already quivering so adorably. “Yes, Mistress.”

“And how’s that?”

“I think about… getting hurt,” he admitted weakly, “when I touch myself. And I touch myself all the fucking time.”

“Yeah? How many times a day do you stroke that pretty cock, James?”

“Twice every morning,” he blurted out, “after that it depends.”

You didn’t let yourself show your surprise at that number. “Depends on what?”

When he hesitated, you hit him sharply on the thigh and he winced. “Depends on what I… what I end up thinking about. Sometimes… sometimes something reminds me, and I have to get off.”

Something told you not to press on what it was that he needed to be reminded of, and why it made him want to jerk off so bad. Something told you he wasn’t ready to tell that story yet. “Did you touch yourself today already?” you asked instead.

“No, no ma’am,” he shook his head, voice wavering as you brushed the crop over his chest, “it’s… it’s different with you.”

“Yeah, I bet it is,” you smirked, hitting him on the stomach quickly. “I bet you’re finally satisfied, right? Nothing’s ever worked for you before.”

“Yes,” he moaned, crying out slightly when you hit him on the arm (flesh— you were too afraid what sound the metal one would make) much harder than before. “The nights I see you, I… I can sleep.”

“You sleep better?”

“No, I just… sleep.”

You tried not to react to that, moving to a new question instead. “Do you want me to hit you again? Or do you want me to stroke your cock for you?”

An obvious choice to some, surely, but he seemed to really struggle with it.

“Which one do you think you deserve?” you asked instead.

“Hit me more,” he decided.

Instantly, you struck him once on the face and again on the shoulder, then moved down to his legs for three in a row in spite of the way his body jerked away instinctively.

“Fuck,” he sobbed, “don’t stop— I need more…”

You focused on his legs, on the inside of his thigh where he seemed the most sensitive. His twisted joy turned to true fear, though, when you brushed the end of the crop over his balls. “Do you want me to hit you here?” you challenged.

“I… I don’t know,” he stammered.

“Let’s make a deal, James,” you offered, “wherever I hit you, I’m gonna kiss it to make it better.”

“Then hit me wherever you want,” he nodded, almost smiling at you. He cried through his teeth when you whipped his shaft with the crop— not especially hard, in fact quite delicately, though the second was harder. And the third, though not much more aggressive, was right on the sensitive tip; his eyes shot open and his hips jerked away.

“So good, such a good boy,” you whispered proudly, putting the crop aside to lean in and kiss his cheek where you’d hit him before, his shoulder, his arm.

You worked your way down carefully as he breathed heavily beneath you, whimpering slightly when you kissed his thighs and notably ignored his flexing, leaking cock. “Please,” he whimpered.

“Shh, be patient,” you soothed, “be my good boy.”

“Your good boy,” he repeated, trying to restrain himself but already bucking up into the air again, “fuck, wanna be your good boy, Mistress.”

“Are you already close, pet, just from getting hurt?” you asked in a faux pout. “You’re not gonna come if I give your pretty cock some kisses, right?”

“I— I won’t come,” he promised. “Not until I get permission.”

“Baby, it’s gonna be a long fuckin’ time before you get permission,” you promised with a toothy grin. “Look down at me, honey, I want you to see this.”

He hesitated for a second but obeyed, looking down at you with an expression that was full of awe as you gripped his cock and gave gentle, teasing kisses up his shaft. It bobbed in your hands with each one, and he let out the most beautiful sigh when you kissed the tip carefully.

A wide lick made him jerk beneath you. “F-Fuck,” he stammered.

“You said you wouldn’t come,” you reminded him. “Can I keep going? Are you gonna be a good boy?”

“Don’t stop, please,” he breathed, “I’ll be good.”

Taking the head between your lips, you suckled gently as he shivered and moaned. You weren’t sure you’d ever been with anybody— on or off the clock— who was so sensitive. And you loved it, honestly; who could resist those precious noises he made?

As much as part of you wanted to go nuts and really push him to the edge, you tried to be gentle and careful so as not to make it impossible for him to hold back. But even then, when you gently grasped his balls in one of your hands and squeezed them, he apparently couldn’t take anymore.

"S-stop," he hissed, and you pulled back, sitting up.

"You were close?" you asked, and he nodded a little. "Oh, what a good boy."

He whimpered briefly. "Yes, your good boy, Mistress…"

Your fingers trailed delicately up the underside of his cock, making him shiver violently. "I know you want to come, but you want to be good even more. You're such a sweet little pet."

It seemed like the praises did more to keep him on the edge than the touches, so you kept both going; wrapping your fingers around the ridge of his head, you gave the most gentle and subtle strokes, and leaned in to whisper against his ear.

“Is this why you wanted me to edge you today, James? So you could show me how good you can be?”

“I-I don’t know,” he blurted out, rocking his hips as best he could while restrained, “I just wanted to… I just wanted you to make me wait.”

“Well, you don’t need to worry about that,” you laughed slightly, “I can make you wait all day. Is that what you want?”

“No, that’s— not that long, I can’t wait that long,” he shuddered.

“Mm, that sounds like your problem, not mine,” you smirked. “Not sure why I asked what you want, honestly… cause I don’t fucking care.”

His choked-out whine was too perfect to ignore.

“Oh, what a pathetic little moan that was, poor baby,” you cooed mockingly, “are you regretting it now? You’re probably wondering what you got yourself into, ‘cause you’re worried Mistress is never gonna let you come.”

“No, I don’t regret it,” he denied weakly, “whatever you want— do whatever you want to me, just… give me what I deserve, please.”

You stopped touching him completely and he straight-up sobbed. “You don’t deserve anything from me, James. You don’t deserve me at all.”

He told you before that he liked when you rapidly cycled between soft and mean. Kept him on his toes, apparently. Honestly, you felt a little guilty talking to him that way sometimes, but his cock leaking enough pre-cum to soak the bedsheets beneath him was a sign you were doing something right. “I know!” he cried. “I know, fuck, I’m sorry, but I need you. I fucking need you, Mistress, please— you know I’ll do anything.”

“I’m feeling generous today,” you shrugged, “so I won’t ask you for much. Just beg me a little more.”

“Please, pleasepleaseplease,” he rushed, “touch me. Anywhere, whatever you want, I just need to feel you. I know I… fuck, I know I don’t deserve it, but let me try to— to earn it. Please.”

You knew if he had it his way, he wouldn’t do much talking at all. But you couldn’t just let him have it his way, now could you? It was better to make him just the right amount of nervous, just the slightest hair uncomfortable, by making him talk to you. And, of course, you liked the way his deep and rough voice got all whiny and needy like this.

One finger under his chin guided him to look up at you, those pretty blue eyes watery and sparkling and wide with misplaced innocence.

“Tell me who you belong to, James,” you instructed darkly.

“You, Mistress,” he whispered, “I’m yours, I— oh fuck…”

Unshockingly, he was reduced to only moans again when you started stroking his cock, the slick precum making every movement smoother. “All mine, huh? My little toy?” you confirmed, but he could only nod and swallow thickly.

You sped up quickly, getting faster and faster until you were really, properly jerking him off and he was biting hard on his lip. Just when he seemed to really fall into it, get almost comfortable, you had to stop.

"Oh, fuck—" he gasped, bucking his hips up to try to chase your hand when you pulled away, but it was no use with him tied up. You watched his cock bob in the air and smiled.

“Did you think it was going to be that easy?” you smirked.

Shaking his head, you tilted yours to look at him, reaching up to trace your fingers over his chest.

“Don’t lie, baby, you thought I was gonna let you come, didn’t you? You’re so sweet, James, and so, so stupid.”

He gasped, and for a second you thought you might’ve gone too far, but it shifted to a moan quickly and you realized he was having the time of his life.

“Just my dumb, brainless little toy,” you continued with a snarl, watching him tug at the ropes as his eyes fluttered shut. “It’s okay, James, it’s okay… you don’t need to think, I don’t want your mind. It’s useless. I want this pretty cock, that’s all I want from you.”

“It’s all yours, Mistress,” he promised, cheeks burning bright red and eyes forced shut. “All of it, I swear.”

“I know,” you cooed, holding his face gently to soothe him a bit. But then your other hand wrapped around his cock and he was anything but soothed. “Shh, shh, don’t make any sounds, you’re just a toy and toys need to stay quiet.”

You missed his noises, actually, but he looked so cute biting his lip and struggling to suppress them. His cock was so swollen in your hand that you honestly wondered if it was somehow getting bigger. Was that even possible? Your mouth was watering regardless.

“I’m gonna give you a little break,” you promised gently, “but I’ll be honest, pretty boy… I don’t think you’re gonna like it one bit.”

The look he gave you beautifully balanced fear with anticipation, and you stopped stroking him to reach over towards the bedside drawer and pull out a vibrator.

“Your Mistress is feeling a little.... self-indulgent today,” you winked. “And since I, unlike you, don’t need to hold myself back from coming, I think I might as well get myself off if I want to.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed dryly, watching you closely as you stood up off the bed and started to carefully undress yourself. It was a lot more fun to get naked when you were wearing something that didn’t actually show much skin— the button-up seemed to really get him going, his tongue mindlessly darting out to lick his lips as you opened one button at a time.

Once it was off your shoulders and on the floor, and he could see the almost-transparent bra you had on, you moved to opening your trousers as well. Just to be mean, you faced the other way as you pushed them down over your ass; you heard his breath catch and you smirked to yourself, spinning to face him again in just the matching, dark red bra and panty set.

“What do you think, do you like this better than the black ones?” you asked coyly.

“I like you naked better than both,” he answered, and you grinned.

“I’m gonna let that backtalk slide just once because it’s not worth my time to go over there and slap you for it,” you decided. “But don’t test me, James.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he answered dutifully, sounding a bit out of breath as he watched you climb back onto the bed, positioning yourself carefully.

You faced him straight-on and laid your legs over his, meaning your lace-covered pussy was in full view and only inches from his leaking cock— the damn thing looked sore by now, purple at the tip and just as desperate for attention as the rest of him.

When you pulled the fabric aside to show him your cunt, he hissed and looked away.

“Look at me, James, keep your eyes open,” you demanded, seeing how totally wrecked he looked when he turned his head back to you and stared down at your body with half-lidded eyes. “Look at how fucking soaked my pussy is. You remember how it feels to be inside it, don’t you?”

He swallowed, sighed, and finally (just barely) nodded.

“You remember how hot and wet and tight it is, don’t you?”

“Y-yes,” he choked.

“Well, that memory’s all you’ve got to work with, sweet boy, because I don’t think I’m ever gonna let you fuck this pussy again.”

He really, properly sobbed, tears streaming down his cheeks, and those arms flexed against the ropes defiantly. “N-no, please—”

“I’m gonna make myself come with this,” you promised, interrupting him as you grabbed the vibe, “and I want you to remember how it feels when I come around you, okay?

Turning it on, you wasted no time pressing it to your clit, moving the end of the toy in slow circles and keeping a close eye on him as he watched you. Your intention had always been to give him a show, but the embarrassing thing was how little of it was an act. Ironically, even though you’d been edging him this whole time, having to touch him that way without any pleasure for yourself was almost as torturous. You’d soaked through your panties by the time you had him tied up, to be totally honest. So, giving into it and letting yourself feel good was a breeze.

“Think about when I was riding you, James,” you instructed, your own voice clearly affected by your pleasure now. “Think about how good it would feel if I let you come inside me.”

“Oh, god,” he cried, leaning his head back.

“Think about my pussy milking every fucking drop of come out of you. You know I wouldn’t let you stop until I was completely full of your come, I bet you’d like that. I bet you’d like to eat your come out of me, you sick little pervert.”

“Fuck!” he yelped, tugging at the ropes harder now— for a second you thought he might really break them and jump you. And for a second, you knew you’d let him. It made your walls clench as you imagined facing the consequences of driving a man to the brink of insanity until he couldn’t help but fuck you like an animal. It was a good thing he didn’t see you bite your lip as you imagined that.

“You know what I’m thinking about?” you taunted.

“God, don��t tell me,” he sighed through his teeth, but obviously you ignored him.

“I’m thinking about what a good boy you are for me,” you cooed, your hips starting to rock up against where you held the end of the vibrator; you pressed it down harder onto your clit and moaned instantly. “Yeah, I’m thinking about how pretty you look when you’re all desperate and needy and fucking pathetic—”

“Oh—” he choked.

“My dumb litlte whore, that’s all you are, James,” you groaned. “I know you wish you could touch me, it’s all you can think about, right? That pretty head of yours would be completely empty if it weren’t for thoughts of me and how badly you want me. Right?”

“Yes,” he whispered huskily.

A shiver ran up your spine when the vibrator bumped into a more sensitive part of you, and you did it again and again until you thought you might lose it a bit faster than you meant to. “This toy feels really good,” you informed him in a purr, gasping when you slipped the vibrating body of it into your pussy, “but it doesn’t feel as good inside me as you do.”

His eyes fell shut but he still winced a bit every time you made a sound; he couldn’t run from this, no matter how hard he tried.

“Oh James,” you moaned loudly, fucking yourself with the vibe for a moment before you pulled it back out to focus even harder on your clit, “I’m gonna come. I’m so, so close… I can feel it getting stronger, I think I might make a mess on these sheets. And the only way I’m ever gonna let you come is if you watch me do it. So open your fucking eyes.”

He blinked quickly as he opened them, gaze scanning your whole body before settling on your cunt; you were sure he could see it pulsing as you got closer and closer, you knew he was imagining how it would feel. You only spared a brief glimpse at his cock, bobbing between his legs, and wished you could just slip it in you now and come while it stretched you out.

But that wasn’t what he was here for, sadly, and you were sure you were the only being truly denied of your desires, despite how it probably seemed from the outside.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, numbness starting to tingle in your legs as your orgasm built up quicker than even you expected. “I’m coming— James, I’m coming, oh, fuck… right there— yes!”

A gush of heat warmed your cunt at the same time that shocks ran up your spine and down your limbs; you could feel your legs shaking, and you knew he could, too.

It got so intense for a second that you had to pull the vibrator away, though you didn’t stop coming until a few moments later, eyes falling shut without you meaning for them to.

You actually laughed a bit, breathlessly, as you turned the vibe off and set it aside, although you weren’t sure exactly what was supposed to be funny about this per se. When you opened your eyes, you saw James looking down and looking positively defeated. But he looked tense, too, and you sat up on your wobbly legs to get closer to his face.

“Relax, James,” you told him firmly as you examined him.

“I— I can’t,” he whispered.

“Why not?”

“I’ll come.”

Nothing could fight your wide grin anymore, not when you heard that. “Oh, baby… are you about to come without even being touched? Is that how much you liked watching Mistress come?”

He nodded, ever so slightly, and you laughed. Not quite a mocking laugh, moreso impressed. Prideful, even. You leaned in to give a wet kiss to his neck, licking over his pulse as he shivered violently.

“That’s my good boy,” you whispered against his skin. He whined and you cooed soothingly right away, “oh I know, I know. It’s so unfair, isn’t it? Mistress gets to come and you don’t…”

“Please,” he stammered, “I’m so close, let me come, please.”

“But I don’t wanna see you come, baby— I wanna see you cry.”

You started to slide your hand down his chest and he jumped up to attention as he tried to squirm away. “No, please, don’t— don’t touch my cock, not if I can’t come.”

“You can hold it in, can’t you?” you pouted.

“No, I can’t, I can’t,” he sobbed, watching fearfully as your hand moved down to his stomach and over his hips.

“But I thought you were my good boy,” you frowned, suddenly wrapping your hand tight around his cock as he choked on a gasp.

“Mistress!” he sobbed. “Please, don’t— don’t move your hand, I’ll come.”

"Never fucking tell me what to do," you instructed firmly, just barely stroking as he cried weakly. "I'm gonna touch you however I want and you're not gonna come because you're my good boy, right?"

"No, Mistress, I can't stop it, I'm gonna come— stop, please…"

"You'd better not fucking come," you hissed through your teeth, speeding up your movements and watching his eyes shoot wide open, "you'd better hold it in until I'm done with you."

"I'm trying— please slow down, can't take it—"

You shook your head, tutting disapprovingly. "No, baby, I tell you what you can take."

"Oh— oh god, Mistress, please, please stop, please, I c-can't— fuck!"

You pulled your hand away the second his cock started to flex but it was too late: come was shooting from his swollen tip and painting his chest and stomach. You didn't even wait until he was done to backhand him across the face.

"I'm sorry!" he yelled. "I'm so sorry, I couldn't help it…"

You softened slightly when you heard his broken voice, saw the desperation and fear on his face— it was real, more real than the fake ‘no’s and the encouraging pleas for mercy. "Baby, it's okay, you tried so hard," you soothed instantly.

Hope filled his eyes just as much as tears as he looked up at you. "Am I still your good boy?"

"Always," you smiled, caressing his face where it was already turning red from your slap.

You reached down and caressed his cock with the back of your fingers, watching it flex weakly.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, alright?”

His lip twitched, almost like a wince. “Do we… do we have to stop?”

You quickly glanced at the clock. “Um, no,” you mumbled, “we still have time. Just tell me what you want.”

“I wanna watch you come again…” he admitted softly. “Is… is that okay?”

Although you weren’t sure what you’d been expecting, you were still surprised. “Yeah, sure.”

“But… but closer this time,” he added, “not so far away.”

You were literally laying on top of him, how did that count as far away?

“I wanna see your face,” he clarified.

“Okay,” you nodded, deciding to indulge him. It was sort of like aftercare, except that this wasn’t exactly the ‘after’ part yet.

On your knees beside where he was leaning back against the headboard, you slipped your hand down into the lace panties again, finding your clit still swollen but not too sensitive. A little gasp fell from your lips when you touched it, rubbing it carefully with two fingers while he looked up at your face.

You felt slightly exposed when he watched you this close, and you didn’t know where to look to avoid direct eye contact. Looking at his lips was just a little too tempting, so that wouldn’t work.

“My hands are a little tired,” you explained, “they might cramp up. Maybe I could use your thigh…”

“O-okay,” he nodded, and you removed your fingers from your panties to sit down on the thick muscle of his leg. You felt him tense up under you slightly, and you carefully began to rock your hips until your clit rubbed just right against the inside of your underwear. Surely he could feel how wet you were— actually, you both could hear it, almost a wet clicking-like noise as the soaked lace slid against your skin.

The dynamic shifted slightly, not that you minded it, as he watched you ride him carefully. Just as he couldn’t hide much from you when he was naked and tied up and baring his soul to you in the kinkiest way possible, you couldn’t hide your pleasure from him when he was looking at your face so up-close. You let your hands carefully roam his body, narrowly avoiding the trails of cooling come he’d left on his stomach and chest, until you found his strong shoulders and held onto them for balance.

“Fuck,” you mumbled to yourself, biting your lip as your sore clit throbbed against his hard, muscular thigh.

“Will you… could you kiss me?” he requested quietly, and your heart broke a little bit. You shook your head, and he nodded in understanding.

“I’ll kiss you here,” you offered instead, whispering against his skin before you pressed your lips to his forehead, then his cheek, then his jaw. “Is that better, James?”

“It helps,” he agreed in a sigh.

“I’m close,” you warned quietly, pressing your cheek to his and weaving one hand into his hair. “I’m gonna come again, on your thigh.”

“Let me touch you,” he begged, “just a little, please…”

You nodded, about to reach forward to untie one of his hands, but he snapped the ropes and you had totally forgotten he could do that. He quickly ran his touch all over your body, calloused hands and bound wrists in stark contrast to your soft skin. The metal one was a little cold but it didn’t bother you; the other was almost too hot, and it was like being warmed and cooled all at once.

He ran his fingers down your spine, he gripped one of your shoulders, he rubbed your legs: he did everything he must have been wishing he could do this whole time, even gasping as he ran one hand up your chest and over a cup of your bra. Just as you sensed that he was about to ask if he could touch you there, you nodded and felt his metal hand tug down the red lace and grab your breast— thankfully not very hard, though he did give your nipple a quick pinch which made you gasp.

Burying his face in the crook of your neck, he finally settled his hands on holding your hips, just tight enough to slightly guide your movements as you rocked faster and more desperately. “Please come,” he begged weakly, “Mistress, please… use me.”

It sort of hit you all at once then, like a punch to the gut. Except, you know, a lot more fun than getting punched in the gut.

“James,” you gasped, legs quivering where they straddled his as a new patch of slick soaked the lace (and presumably his thigh as well). He held you tight, kept you moving through it while your fingers tangled in his hair and your mouth fell slack for another, louder moan.

The way his lips moved over your skin, laving your collarbones and pulse point and the innermost corner of your jaw, was positively worshipful; reverent. “Mistress,” he whispered, almost sounding like praise but tinted with awe. Your movements slowed down to a stop and the two of you breathed a sigh together, unintentionally. “Thank you,” he mumbled.

“What for?” you asked, blinking quickly and looking down at him, coming back to reality (though you weren’t quite sure where else it was that you had just been).

“I dunno, everything,” he decided.

“Don’t thank me,” you smiled. “Keep paying me, though.”

He laughed a little, glancing away. “Yeah, and I’ll pay you back for these ropes… sorry."

"No, hey, don't be sorry," you dismissed, getting up off of his leg and standing up to go grab a towel for him. "I'm just sorry we still haven't found anything strong enough to hold you."

"It's fine, they're strong enough to make me stop myself when I want to do something I shouldn't, that's all that really matters."

You nodded to yourself as you dampened the towel and came back to wipe him off.

"I can do that for myself," he reminded you, sounding a bit embarrassed, but you thought it was sweet.

“You just focus on getting those ropes off of yourself,” you decided with a little smile.

#sub!bucky barnes x domme!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut

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mcfreakin-bxtch · 2 years

Text

Here, You and I

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

18+

Warnings: Some angst and trauma but not all too heavy. Smut, Fingering, Unprotected sex, Praise kink, a lil spit kink (bArElY), Language, Fluff (if I’m missing any please let me know)

Word Count: 3K

A/N: I need to clean my inbox and wips

You don’t know what prompts your eyes to open in the dead of night.

When they do adjust from your slumber, it takes you a full minute, maybe more, to be able to form a coherent thought. The blurry green numbers on your alarm clock shows you that you’ve only been asleep for three hours. It’s hard to sleep without him.

You groan and blindly stretch your arm behind you, finding the spot just as cold and empty as it has been for nearly three weeks now. It makes you shiver, though not from being cold.

Your eyes close on their own accord despite the nagging churn in your gut makes them open again. Now you’re alert enough to finally get the sense that someone is watching you; your body freezes automatically and your heart thuds slowly but harshly against your chest.

“It’s me.”

Oh, that delectable voice. You know it, you recognize it, you missed it.

You whip around, tangled in the bed sheets so much that you nearly topple over, but you don’t care how ridiculous you look. Bucky’s home.

Naked.

Light from the city peers through your curtains, illuminating some of his features; it doesn’t do him any justice, but you can still make out the bare figure standing next to his side of his bed, unmoving and unwavering except for the heavy rise and fall of his chest. You check him over the best you can, looking for any signs of injury or discomfort.

“Just a few bumps and scrapes,” Bucky mumbles gravely.

Something’s really wrong. He doesn’t sound completely like himself. No, he sounds like he’s... trapped. Lifeless. Quiet.

You open your mouth but you’re mute. You rack your brain to find something comforting to say to him, anything to get rid of the dark look on his face. Though through the sleepy haze and panic slightly rising in your chest, it’s hard not to let it show that this has slightly caught you off guard.

Bucky watches you patiently. Like he’s waiting for you to tell him what to do. Waiting for permission and that scares you more than anything else.

This isn’t the first time Bucky’s come back from a mission shaken up like this. Through years of experience, you learned that sometimes he needs action, something solid and concrete that can ground him to reality, to you. It took you a little while to catch the signs and clues to better help him when he pushes himself back into a part of his mind that’s still dark and reeling from his past.

So instead of words, you choose to lift up your sleep shirt, tossing it next to your side of the bed. Your shorts and panties follow quickly after and then you lift the duvet.

He settles down next to you, pulling the cover over your heads. Now that you can see him a little more clearly, the dark clouds swirling in his eyes are prominent and loud.

You hesitate to touch him. You don’t mean to, and you hope he doesn’t take it the wrong way. Bucky notices and reaches for your hand and places it in his short, cropped hair. Immediately your fingers flex and scratch lightly, earning you a small sigh of relief; his breath hits your lips and you suck it in like it’s the first breath of fresh air—hell, to you it is.

“I don’t wanna talk about it. Not now,” he rasps.

“Okay.” You nod, playing with the strands of hair at the back of his neck.

“I just want to hold you and feel you and—fuck.”

The curse comes out in a quiver of the lips, a desperate plea that begs for any type of release.

Before you tell him that he’s home, you’re here with him and you’re never going anywhere unless he says so and that he’s so fucking loved, he’s on you. Chapped but luscious lips crashing down on yours, teeth clashing together painfully, your squeal muffled by the urgency of his tongue breaking through; blunt nails digging in your flesh, hard, muscled planes of his body molding awkwardly in his hurried attack as he climbs on top of you, then perfectly molds his weight to yours until you’re literally close to suffocating under his heavyweight.

It’s like he’s trying to bury himself inside you in more ways than one.

Flesh and metal paw at every inch of you, trying to familiarize himself with you again. He gropes your breasts roughly, squeezing until you grunt in discomfort; Bucky barely registers it. He barely even gives you a chance to breathe and only grumbles when you have to break the kiss. His lips never leave your body, trailing down your jaw and to your neck, urgently biting the exposed skin. You hiss lightly and buckle your hips against his, holding his head to your neck as he barely soothes the sting and moves to another spot to mark.

But that’s not enough for him. He’s moving so quickly that it’s hard to tell what he’s trying to do. Slithering and squirming against you as he paws at your nipples, tweaking them between his thumb and forefinger until you’re damn near close to tears. Bucky is desperate and unforgiving as he hitches your leg over his hip to let him feel the soft, wet lips of your pussy against the red hot, angry tip of his cock and, without warning, lets a line of spit drop where you’re nearly connected.

It sends a shock through you and he can see it by the way your stomach shakes and caves. With one last swipe of his girth through your folds his fingers are there to replace it, probing at your folds until a thick, middle finger enters you.

“James,” you gasp at the intrusion.

He plays with you for a moment, sliding his finger in and out carelessly a few times before another is added to the mix, scissoring and stretching your gummy walls. Your hips move on their own accord, helping him find your sweet spot and boy it doesn’t take long.

“Yeah?” Bucky questions the scrunch of your eyebrows.

“Yeah.” You tell him.

He pumps his fingers faster as he kisses your chest, enveloping your nipple between his teeth and swirling his tongue. You hiss and throw your head back. Then oh shit he flicks your clit with his thumb—

Bucky silences your whine with a subtle twist of his wrist. An electric shock runs through your core, from head to toes that leads back to the source.

“Already squeezing the hell outta me,” he chuckles humorlessly.

“Hmhmm.”

He keeps your legs open as they struggle to close, pumping his fingers so hard that your lower half shakes from the strength—your clit pulses for more attention and your pussy becomes slicker for something much, much longer and thicker.

Then just as quickly as he started he removes his fingers from your heat. You’re about to protest when he kisses your complaint away, all but shoving his knees into your flesh to get your legs to move to his liking. Normally you wouldn’t mind some roughhousing, yet the way he’s shoving your legs and arms out of the way for your cunt feels too hurried and unlike him—you’ve been down this road before.

“Hmphm Buck,” you say against his moving lips. You slide your hands from his hair to his chest and softly push back.

Bucky stops and looks down at you, panting softly as you are. His face is only a few inches away from yours, still sharing the same air. His eyes look a bit calmer, light starting to shine through the clouds; a blue, hazel light to be exact, his color coming back.

“Slow,” you breathe, rubbing the tense muscles of his back.

“Slow,” you remind him gently as you grind your hips against his, feeling his cockhead nudge against your clit. It invites a low moan from your chest, your eyes closing automatically.

Bucky gasps and nods, the top curls of his hair tickling your forehead.

“I’m sorry,” he says and rests his forehead completely against yours, closing his eyes.

“You don’t have to be,” you tell him, holding him tightly to you. “I missed you.” You kiss the tip of his nose. “I missed your face.” His cheekbones, his eyes, his chin without a care that his stubble scratches your skin, any part of him that you can reach without moving you kiss with affirmation. “Your body, your voice, your amazing cooking, even your god-awful snoring. I missed your everything, baby.”

His eyes are still closed and his bottom lip trembles. “I missed you too, sweetheart.“

He gulps and opens his eyes.

How many times have you stared into those eyes? Lost yourself in the ocean of them that screams home to you? It never gets old. It never gets tiring. You can stare at him for hours, just like this.

What’s also magical about it? He can, too.

So honestly fuck these last three weeks. Fuck whom or whatever brought him to this state and fuck any millisecond without this man.

His cock nudges against your cunt again, a subconscious effort of his desperate need. You reach down in between the little to no space between the two of you and grab him.

“Yes,” he moans almost as if he’s in pain, and thrusts into your hand.

“I love you,” you tell him.

You line him up at your entrance. You’re wet enough that he can easily slide the tip in. Still, you’re forced to slowly inhale and exhale to relax your muscles. You’re gonna feel him for the rest of this week, for months it feels as he pushes and pushes into your tight heat until his pelvis rests completely against yours.

Bucky stills for your benefit, ignoring the primal urge to pound into you until he can’t remember anything. You appreciate the restraint and give a chaste kiss to his Adam’s Apple, wrapping your arm around his broad shoulders; it’s impossible to pull him any closer to you, but you try and he doesn’t object—rather, he tries to help by doing a ridiculous wiggle against you.

You feel his calves flex from where your feet rest, legs wrapped around his waist and wide enough so that he can move as freely as possible. Then he’s grinding slowly into you, mixing his groan with your whine and a dirty dance of his tongue. The soft curls that trail down his pelvis tickles your neglected clit, giving you just a little bit of friction that has you buzzing. You arch your back off the mattress, feeling every vein pulse against the velvet flesh of your inner walls, every harsh bum bum bum bum bum bum beating to your heart’s rhythm.

Bucky breaks the kiss this time, moving his forearms up on either side of your head. His face doesn’t move an inch away from yours still, so it doesn’t take much to whisper hotly against his ear, “Move.”

He practically sobs and before you can do anything about it he’s pulling himself out, leaving only the bulbous tip of him in ‘till he hammers back into you; the harsh pace he’s set nearly knocks the wind out of you.

“Jesus f—” Your throat closes.

Bucky knows what he’s doing. He’s not wasting any time, it’s been just as hellish for him as it was for you, being gone. Swiveling his hips into another dirty grind that not only hits a spot so deep inside you that you can practically feel him in your stomach, but that there’s more savoring pressure on your clit. Your legs are already trembling, and you really want him to do that again and he is.

Your moan is too loud and pornographic for the silence that once was, but Bucky doesn’t seem to mind judging by the low grow that vibrates from his chest to yours.

“Good?” He whispers huskily and genuinely.

How the hell is he speaking coherently while he’s fucking you like this? You can’t even form the confirmation through your slack lips, barely able to nod instead as you hike your legs further up his hips. He uses very little strength to lean over you and slam his hips down into yours like it’s the last time he ever will.

You encourage his pleasure by winding your fingers through his hair and tugging. He growls your name and attacks your lips, wrapping his fingers in the pillow you’re lying on.

“Again,” he demands softly.

You listen and tug again, this time pulling his head far enough back so you can place the tip of your tongue on his collarbone and lick all the way up to his plump lips. Instead of a kiss, you trace the outline of his lips and stop at the bottom to bite.

Bucky arches in your arms and stops deep inside you. You whine out of instinct but it seems to fall on deaf ears because he doesn’t flinch or open his eyes. He presses his forehead against yours and that’s when you realize that you still have his lip between your teeth.

“Why’d you stop?” You ask breathlessly.

He finally opens his eyes. “Because you’re insatiable.”

His cock pierces the words right out of your brain. This time he’s unforgiving, giving you everything he has to offer with a promise of more. Your pussy sucks him in, your juices starting to coat his thighs and Bucky looks down when he notices your stare and curses under his breath.

“That’s what you always do to me,” he groans. He leans back down to bury his head in your neck. “A-always caring, your pussy s’mine all mine.”

The slaps of his hips hitting yours is starting to get louder and louder with your moans and cries and his grunts that just makes you go feral. The vulgar squelch of your pussy taking his brutal thrusts, the tap of your headboard hitting the wall, the moans that freely leave his lips as he continues to lose control to your body.

“Oh fuck Bucky,” you angle your hips towards his thrust, hoping to have him impossibly deeper. “S’good.” His hips jostle your body upwards, your breasts jiggling against his chest and the breath knocked out of you mid-sentence. “Fuck me so good, no one could ever.”

Bucky preens at the sweet, whispered praises in his ear. His hot breath feels like molten lava against your neck and the only answer he can give you are broken gasps and shutters. The muscles in his back heave and clench under his ministrations along with the globe of his perfect ass flexing under your palm. With every clench of your cunt, he gasps and tenses.

“Keep going baby.” You’re saying anything at this point, so cockdrunk and in love, keeping your arms wrapped around him so he doesn’t go far. “Oh fuck yeah just like that, Buck. You know how to fuck me so good. I missed you, missed fucking—”

Bucky slams his lips on yours for what already feels like the hundredth time tonight. It’s an angry clash of teeth and saliva that Bucky licks through. You feel more of himself reaching to the surface with the languid but hurried twirl of his tongue exploring your mouth, the way he’s now more precise with his thrusts.

His cock twitches inside you the more your sopping pussy tightens around him. You know he’s not going to last much longer and so does he.

“C’mon honey.” You kiss his temple. “Come in me, let me feel you.”

But James Buchanan Barnes absolutely refuses to come before you do... if he can help it. Without breaking his pace he reaches down to flick your clit with quick, thick fingers.

“More,” he rasps as he stares down at your flushed form. “Say more, I need you to cum.”

The way he says your name, authoritative and deep, is enough to make your eyes roll in the back of your head. Your lungs feel like they don’t work anymore, unable to produce a single breath or scream that he’s fucking out of you, your legs are for sure jello at this point and your pussy cannot stop squeezing him—it’s actually getting harder for Bucky to keep up with his thrusts without busting in you right then and there with how snug you are around him.

He repeats your name. The coil in your stomach is about to snap. Curdling and molding into a ball of “BuckyBuckyBuckyBucky, oh fuck your cock is so big, I’m gonna cum oh shit there it is, right there—“

Your cunt constricts as the ball finally snaps, sending you in a spiral. You keep your legs wrapped around his waist so that he can barely move but continues to push through your orgasm to pursue his. His moans are getting louder, almost louder than your cries.

It feels never ending, like you rightfully belong in this state of pure euphoria only Bucky can give you.

“Please, Bucky,” you beg.

“I’m cumming, I fucking love you, God.”

Bucky completely shivers against you as he fills your pussy with thick ropes of cum, so much so that you can already feel it leaking from you. He keeps his hips locked to yours as he catches his breath. He’s heavier than what he felt like before and as much as you don’t want his warmth to leave you, you give him a small push.

“Too heavy,” you mumble weakly. “Here.”

It takes great strength to pull himself away from you. His cock jumps slightly with your combined fluids covering him, all white and glistening.

Fuck he’s so beautiful. A whole ass galaxy in your eyes. His chiseled face red and sweaty, chest heaving with heavy breaths, his gorgeous eyes trained onto the mess between your thighs.

You love him so much it actually hurts.

“C’mere,” you hold your arms out weakly for him.

“Hang on,” his voice is thick and gruff. It makes your sensitive pussy clench and Bucky smiles softly at the sight.

He gets up and walks to the bathroom. He cleans the both of you up before crawling back into your open arms, lying his head on your chest and listening to the steady beat of your heart.

“We’re not going anywhere.” You remind him gently, scratching his scalp as you hold him. “You’re home now.”

“Mmm,” Bucky agrees.

Tomorrow is a new day. You fall asleep like this—with your Bucky, here in your arms where he belongs.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #angst #fluff #mcfreakin-bxtch #reader insert #james buchanan barnes #fanfic #bucky barnes x you

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

Text

Anakin and the Jedi Babies: A Child's Ink

Context: Anakin and the Jedi Babies, chrono

WARNINGS: underage characters get tattoos/piercings

Word Count: 5680 Rating: T Ships: primarily Gen (Disaster Lineage + Shmi), offscreen JangoShmi, past Obitine, past Anidala ----

Ylliben Skywalker is known as a preternaturally calm and quiet child, serious and pensive.

He jokes. He roughhouses. He is as responsive to tickle attacks and shoulder rides and warm hugs as any other child.

But he is Jetii'Manda, not just Mando'ade, and that fact is impossible to forget.

This is a child that can read before he can speak, a child who can talk at length about 'grassroots antiestablishment propaganda and its influence on rural sociological development' before he can say the words without a lisp. This is a child who looks a man in the eye and tells him to check over his blaster one last time, or it will explode in his hand only minutes into the next engagement. This is a child who is not only willing, but capable of discussing the plausible ramifications of Duke Adonai Kryze's latest decrees with Jaster Mereel himself, while still in possession of all his baby teeth.

(His father is not worried by this. Upset, sometimes, pained and tired, but not worried.)

(His sister only laughs.)

It is, as a result, not as surprising as it could be, when a six-year-old wanders his way into Na-Tsuyon's parlor and asks her what the risks of getting a tattoo at his age are.

"I'm not having that conversation with you unless your parent is here," she says. A few of the other artists crane their heads in her direction, but she waves them off.

"I'm not trying to get it right this moment," Ben protests. "I'm just gathering information. He said that was fine."

"Still need your parent here here," she tells him.

He leaves for about ten minutes, and then comes back with a tall, gangling figure in tow.

"I hear this isn't the place for unaccompanied minors," Knight Skywalker jokes.

(She has heard him called a General. She does not know which war he fought. Nobody does.)

(They no longer ask.)

"Well, he is young," she says, brushing her tentacles back over a shoulder. "I don't let anyone under human-fourteen get tattooed without a parent on hand, and giving preliminary information to anyone under twelve is... generally not worth it, shall we say."

Skywalker smiles, oddly amused in the way he always is when someone points out his children need supervision. "Glad to hear it. Are you the Na-Tsuyon whose name is on the door?"

"I am," she says. "And you're Knight Skywalker."

He's pleased at that. She can feel it in the chemical receptors of her head tails, and wonders. "Yep. So, do we jump right into the discussion or do you need me to sign something, or..."

"No, it's enough that you're here," she assures him. "Now, the main reasons we discourage tattoos for younger sentients is the distortion factor. While the level of pain is much lower than it would have been several millennia ago, and we have the technology to remove ink from below the skin, a tattoo before your body stops growing will distort as you grow and your skin stretches. You would need to come in yearly for touch-ups, to remove the sections that have moved out of place, and fill in where the ink is no longer settled."

"That makes sense," Ylliben says. He looks up at his father, and then back to her. "You'd be able to tell me if any of my choices would be... bad for a Mandalorian, yes?"

"I would," she confirms. She glances up at Knight Skywalker. "I don't suppose you have any history of getting tattoos?"

"No," he says. "I'm from Tatooine, so..."

Different connotations to the very act of it, for him.

She ducks her head in a nod. "I understand. Generally it's easier if the parent has experience in the process, but it's far from mandatory. You're willing to work with the distortion maintenance?"

"Yes'm," Ylliben says, and his father shrugs and gestures, as if the word of a six-year-old is thus law.

"I'll walk you through the details of the process, including the care, relevant allergies, and so on. I don't suppose you have anything in mind already?" she asks.

"I do," he says. He doesn't tell her what it is, yet.

Anakin Skywalker stays there the entire time, and they make an appointment for later in the week.

----

"My buir isn't my only father," Ylliben says quietly, when it comes time to get details on what he's getting tattooed. "I had another father before him. A Jedi. He died, to protect me, and a lot of other people. So, um..."

He shoves a picture to her, the symbol of the Jedi, plain and simple. She looks at him.

"In red," he says, shifting on his feet, looking up at his father and then back down at the page. "For, um, to honor a parent."

"Your first father was a Jedi?" she asks, gentle as she can.

"Mm-hm," Ylliben says. "He died, um... he saved buir from slavery, too, a long time ago. Both my dads were Jedi, and I'm going to be one, too, and so is Sokanth. It's--it's about where I come from, and--"

"You don't have to justify it if you don't want to," Na-Tsuyon tells him, reaching out to place one hand on his. It's very warm and dry, in her opinion, but she finds that most humans are. Mandalorians are some 80% human, or near human.

Nautolan Mandalorians aren't unheard of, but she's a rare one.

Ben sucks in a breath, and says, "I want it up here, on my right shoulder, like a pauldron."

Na-Tsuyon nods, and looks up to Skywalker. "You'll have to sign some papers to approve it, Master Jedi. You approve of the design?"

Skywalker hesitates, and then goes to one knee in front of his son, and speaks so quietly she can only hear "--remind you of the generator complex?"

Whatever Ben's answer is, it's too quiet for her to catch. It satisfies Skywalker, though, and he stands. "Alright, let's see this paperwork."

----

When Ylliben comes in again, a year later to get his slightly-twisting tattoo fixed, it's with Miss Shmi in tow. Na-Tsuyon greets the middle Skywalker, for all that she's still not entirely sure how to address the girl. "I heard you've been attending the university at Sundari. Some kind of engineering?"

"Mechanical, yes," Shmi says, oddly soft. "I'm going to spend another year to specialize in vehicular engineering. I'd like to design starships, since I already know how to fix them."

"A worthy goal," Na-Tsuyon says, as she leads them over to one of the stations and starts sanitizing Ylliben's inked shoulder. She doesn't entirely see why a university education is needed for something that, in her opinion, an apprenticeship could more thoroughly cover. It certainly worked well enough Na-Tsuyon herself. "You're on vacation, then?"

"I am," Shmi confirms. "It's... unfortunate that Anakin couldn't be here a the same time, but we'll see each other in a few days."

Ylliben fidgets for a bit as his jedi symbol is fixed, and then finally asks, "Ori'vod can approve new tattoos, right?"

"Sokanth, no. Shmi..." Na-Tsuyon looks up at her. "I have no idea if you're listed as his legal guardian anywhere, and I'd need proof of that."

"Secondary to Anakin," Shmi confirms. "Ben would like this to be a surprise for Ani."

Ben pulls out a sheet, with a careful design on it, and presses it into Na-Tsuyon's lap when she lifts the tattoo gun and he's not at risk of ruining his own ink. It's simpler than the Jedi symbol, though it's two colors instead of one.

"It's the Open Circle Fleet," Ben says, shy in a way she's given to understand he usually isn't. She thinks his shyer moments may be connected to admitting to emotion, something that he's tying quite closely to his choice of Tattoos. "I thought, um, since I'm already--already honoring one buir, then, er..."

"The Open Circle Fleet was under the command of my brother's Jedi Master," Shmi explains, one hand on Ben's. "And I am given to understand that the symbol was designed as a subtle nod, of sorts, to the two of them as a team. Ben's looking to honor Anakin as he has his first father."

Ben looks down at his lap, and doesn't meet Na-Tsuyon's eyes.

"Bring me proof of guardianship," she tells them. "And I'll make sure you get it finished early enough that the bacta comes off before Knight Skywalker makes it home."

She holds true to her word, and talks her way into being there to see the reunion and reveal.

The emotions that cross Skywalker's face are complicated and unexpected in ways that she can't identify.

Then it's all too simple, because he starts crying on little Ylliben in the middle of the hangar.

----

It doesn't take a full year for Ylliben to come in for another set. It's only five months, maybe six. He has a sketch again, a geometric design of something she doesn't recognize, but still pings as familiar for some reason.

"It needs to be the right shade of blue," he tells her, serious as anything. Knight Skwyalker is right next to him, smiling all soft and indulgent, and maybe a little sad. "It's for Soka."

Oh. This is based on her facial markings, then. Or... what they will be, maybe. This doesn't look quite like what she's seen on the girl, but everyone knows little Ben is more touched by visions than his father and sister.

Na-Tsuyon thinks she knows where this is going. "The same blue as her montrals and lekku?"

Ben shakes his head. "No, 501st blue."

Or not.

"It's close, but a little darker and more saturated," Skywalker offers, and shrugs when she looks his way. "It's a long story, but the 501st was the legion I led before I arrived at Mandalore. It had a specific shade of blue assigned for armor paint, so legions could easily identify each other in the field."

That's... odd. She doesn't ask for more detail, though. It's not her business. "Where do you want this one?"

Ben shows her his left forearm and frames a section about two-thirds the length of it, along the outer side. Like a vambrace.

She has a feeling all these symbols will be on his armor, once he's old enough for it.

"Let's go through my inks and see which one will work best," she says, and does not comment on the rest.

----

When Ylliben comes in again, a few months before his next touch-up appointment, he doesn't have an image on hand. His father is trailing him again, and Na-Tsuyon has a guess.

"Time for Shmi?" she asks.

Ben ducks his head, flushing and not meeting Na-Tsuyon's eyes. "Yes'm."

"I thought as much," she says, and smiles at Skywalker. "General."

"Don't start."

"There have been oh so many rumors flying since the last Jedi run-in, you know."

"I don't care," he grouses, dropping into a seat. "Hells, a man takes emergency command for one battle, and it's all anyone can talk about."

"You ended a civil war, sir."

Ben giggles into his hands as Skywalker groans and slaps a hand over his eyes.

"No respect," the man complains. "Ben, be nice to me, I'm your dad."

"Nuh-uh," Ben says. "I know all the most embarrassing secrets."

"A cruel child," Skywalker accuses. "Ruthless."

"You're the one raising me," Ben says, swinging his legs back and forth. He's got plastoid training vambraces, now, and greaves that clink against the legs of the chair.

"Somehow, yes." Skywalker sighs, with great drama and all such things. He drags himself up to sitting. "Anyway. Moving on."

"Do you have something in mind already?" Na-Tsuyon asks.

"Binary suns," Ben says. "Just two overlapping circles, coin-sized, one bigger than the other, in sunset colors. In a gradient, with a sort of... flare to it? Halo? The... oh! The stellar corona. Buir knows the colors better."

"I want to see what you have to work with before I sketch out the design," Skywalker says. "But yeah, sort of pink and yellow and peachy."

"I can do almost any color," Na-Tsuyon promises. "Especially on fair human skin like Ylliben's. I won't have a problem getting those to show up the way I would on myself."

Na-Tsuyon is a color most would call 'aquamarine.' She's a light shade between blue and green, and much as she likes her skin, it's an absolute pain to make red and orange show up.

She can do it.

It's just annoying.

Ben asks for this one to be on the inside of the left forearm, high and opposite to the widest point of the mark for Sokanth.

----

"Can I see your fonts?"

Ben's alone, for the moment, but Na-Tsuyon knows that when he makes his decision, his father or Shmi will approve it without question. It's no harm to let him browse.

"Basic, Mando'a, or Huttese alphabet?" she asks. "Or something more esoteric?"

"Mando'a, please."

He's eight years old, now. He's still far younger than most of her clients, but she's long gotten used to him. Even when he's acting like a child, there's something to it that doesn't quite sit right. 'Born middle-aged,' a few of the other civilians on base had joked.

She wasn't sure if she thought it was just a joke, these days.

Na-Tsuyon passes her fonts book to the boy, and settles back in her chair for a long afternoon of running numbers. He, meanwhile, goes to sit in the lobby, legs still not long enough to reach the floor, paging through with unwavering, unsettling gravitas.

Half an hour, and then Ben returns.

He points to a font. "This one."

"What's it going to say?"

"Vode An," he tells her, as serious as can be. "In black, over my heart. It's important."

"It's a fairly common phrase," she notes idly. "Should be quick."

She doesn't expect much of a response, and certainly not the one she gets.

"It was different for them," Ben mutters, not looking at her. She sees him twisting the toes of one shoe into the floor. "It was... it was different. I can't talk about it. They were brothers, actually brothers, and they had--they had nothing, they were basically slaves, but--"

"You don't have to talk about it," Na-Tsuyon assures him, a hand on his. "You don't have to explain it to me. If it means something to you, that's all that matters. I just need you to be sure."

"And buir to sign the paperwork," Ben quips, smiling at her. She notices that several teeth are missing. It's cute. "You need that too."

"That too," she agrees.

When Skywalker shows up, he hears what it is that Ben would like, and makes a few suggestions for a border--a gear that sounded too much like the Republic's symbol for a Mando'a phrase, a building on stilts from a city she's never heard of on a planet that rings no bells, a human genetic strand for reasons she can't imagine--most of which are soundly ignored, until Skywalker sketched out a stylized ship of... some sort.

"Venator," Skywalker says, and taps the image. "Nobody will know it except us, but it'll mean something to you, for them."

Ben looks at it for a long moment, and then takes the scrap of flimsi with Mando'a on it and lays it overtop the center of the sketch.

He stares at it for a few long moments, and then nods sharply and pushes it to Na-Tsuyon. "This, please."

He's such a polite child.

It makes it easier to ignore the more confusing parts of his presence in her parlor.

----

"Hi!"

Sokanth Skywalker is in her shop.

That's new.

"Hello," Na-Tsuyon says. "I didn't know you were thinking of getting ink."

"I'm not," she says, hopping up on a stool across the counter. She holds out a hand, and Na-Tsuyon clasps it with bemusement. "But you guys do piercings too, right?"

"We do," she confirms. "You're... ten?"

"Yep!" Sokanth chirps, kicking her legs back and forth. "Is that old enough to get these without permission, or should I ask my dad to come by?"

"At least twelve for piercings without in-person, signed approval from a parent or guardian," Na-Tsuyon says. "Though if you're anything like your brother, I don't imagine that'll be a problem for you."

Sokanth grins at her, bright and a little wild. "Nose, bottom lip, eyebrow. I don't know the actual terms, but I know what I want. Which do you suggest getting first?"

"I'd say nostril," Na-Tsuyon tells her. Most species even vaguely humanoid kick off with the ears, but that's not exactly an option for a togruta. "Let me get a chart and you can figure out what type of piercing you want, and what kind of hoop or stud. I don't actually do the piercings myself, though. Comm the General if you want this done today, though."

"Thank you~!"

----

Nostril, labret, and a horizontal brow, the piercer notes down at the end of the latest Skywalker visit. Na-Tsuyon wonders if the brow piercing will look strange with Soka's markings, and then doesn't think on it further.

----

Ylliben, almost nine, is silent as he gets the touch-up.

His father isn't here. Neither is Shmi. It's pre-approved, signed permission and all, but it's still odd that neither of Ben's adults is here.

Sokanth is, but she's almost as quiet as Ben is.

Na-Tsuyon has heard the rumors, but she's not going to say anything. She's not. It's not her business.

"Ben," Soka speaks up, towards the end of the appointment. "Ask her the thing."

Ben shakes his head. "No way."

"She knows more about tattoos and how important they are than anyone!" Soka urges. "Ask her!"

"Do you want to wait for your father?" Na-Tsuyon suggests.

"No!" both immediately yelp.

She pauses, glad the needle hadn't been to skin, and levels a look at Ben. He flushes and settles down, mumbling an apology for jerking as he had. She goes back to fixing the stretch of the binary suns tattoo.

Soka shifts in her seat, watching them intently.

"Shmi's upset with buir," Ben suddenly says. He doesn't meet Na-Tsuyon's eyes. "I'm... I don't know if you heard what's going on."

"I do my best to avoid rumors," she says, keeping her voice as neutral as she can. "I did hear that the Mand'alor is about to have a grandchild, and something about an upcoming wedding. That much has been announced officially."

"Dad freaked out," Soka says, legs kicking back and forth. "He's happy for her, and he's fine with Jango being the other parent, but it kicked off a... philosophical crisis? Ben, what do you think?"

"Metaphysical, maybe," Ben mumbles. "Definitely existential."

"And he told Shmi some stuff and now she's hurt that he didn't tell her before and it's all a mess," Soka finishes. "So, uh, we don't... want either of them involved. Until. Um. Until that's settled."

Na-Tsuyon bites back any deeper questions she might have. "Alright. I won't pry. What did you want to know from me?"

"I had a plan for what I was going to get next," Ben says, staring at the fold of fabric over his sister's knees in lieu of something more pertinent. "A peace lily, on the inside of my wrist, for..."

"You don't have to tell me," she reminds him.

Ben bites his lip, and closes his eyes, and breathes in deep. Neither of the girls comment.

"She was important," Ben finally says. "In the big memories. But she doesn't... she's not... she isn't here. And Jango is. And he's marrying Shmi, and they're having a baby, so I should put a mark down for him first, right?"

"He's gonna be Mand'alor, too," Soka adds.

"He is," Na-Tsuyon says, as neutral as she can.

"He's joining the family," Ben says, his gaze fixed on the floor in front of him. "And there's going to be a baby, and that's. That's important."

"There's no order that you have to get things in," Na-Tsuyon assures him, squeezing his shoulder in a light gesture of support. "You've prioritized family so far, so I think it would make sense to get a mark for the coming cousin, at least. Unless... is the lily for your birth mother?"

Ben's face twists, uncomfortable for some reason she can't begin to guess at.

"No," Ben says.

"Skyguy's Jedi Master did almost marry her when they were younger," Soka explains. She glances at Na-Tsuyon and then away and at the wall. "They had a whole dramatic 'forbidden romance' thing going on, 'cause Jedi aren't supposed to get married. She died before Ben came into the picture, though."

It's a neat enough explanation.

It feels fake, but much of what the Skywalkers say about their pasts does.

She's sure it's true in some way. In some perspective. From... from a certain point of view, maybe.

"Alright, then," Na-Tsuyon dismisses. "All things aside, I would suggest adjusting your order of tattoo acquisition, but there's no particular requirement by Mandalorian standards. Your choices are rarely anything that intersects with set traditions, nor do you have a historic clan or house that comes with mandates of the sort. It seems that you're leaning towards prioritizing something for the new additions to your family, though; you've made it clear that these things are important to you, and I think you should pursue it if you're comfortable with it."

Ben nods, eyes somewhere far off.

"It'll make him flustered," Soka pushes, kicking lightly at her brother's ankle. "Jan-Jan's still worried you don't like him anymore."

"He is not," Ben huffs. "He's just scared of buir."

"Nah, your opinion matters too," Soka argues. "And you've been avoiding everyone 'cuz Skyguy freaked out and Shmi's upset, so Jango's worried you're mad at him about the baby happening. If you get a tattoo about him, he might actually cry."

"Is that why you want me to take that route?"

"Not the only one," Soka says, utterly guileless. She blinks at him, bright and innocent. "But I definitely do want to see the future Mand'alor crying because you made it obvious he's family now. It'll be funny."

Ben sighs, very clearly being dramatic about it. "Soka, I'm not going to pick a tattoo based on what you think will be funny."

"Imagine his face, though."

Na-Tsuyon doesn't comment at the expressions Ben makes as he very clearly does exactly that.

"Well, kriff," Ben sighs, and Soka giggles at the swear. "I'll have to get a tattoo for Jango, then."

----

Ben is already nine by the time he comes in with his father to actually get the tattoo for Jango's addition to the family. The choice he makes isn't particularly imaginative, but it'll suit well enough. A mythosaur skull, the symbol of the Haat Mando'ade, in a grey the same shade as beskar.

There actually are traditions to this one, specific adjustments to the framing and stylization meant to indicate how one fits into the faction, but also how one is associated with the Mand'alor. Ben is family, and close family, but not related by blood, nor adopted directly by the Mand'alor, rather a relative through the riduur be alor.

Na-Tsuyon explains each element and adjustment in detail, lets them process and agree, until she's taking a needle to Ben's skin once more.

"Will you be getting one for the coming child as well?" Na-Tsuyon asks while shading in a curve of bone.

"Not yet," Ben tells her, quiet and oddly contemplating. "I need to meet them, first. Figure out who they are."

"Sensible," she agrees. There's the usual oddity in his phrasing, and she ignores it as ever. "Did you tell Fett that you were getting this?"

"No, it's intended as a surprise," Ben says, watching her work.

She can almost feel the coming question.

It does not come from the human she expects.

"Do you know any Mando tattoo artists in Little Keldabe?" the General asks, voice low.

She finishes the line she's on, lifts the needle away from skin, and turns to him. "You're leaving for Coruscant?"

"Not yet," Skywalker says. He meets her eyes evenly. "But... soon. The time's coming. A year, maybe two. The Force will let us know when the time is right."

"Uh-huh," Na-Tsuyon acknowledges this. She does not comment further. The Force is not her wheelhouse. If they think it wants them back on Coruscant, with the Temple, then that's what they believe.

"These are Mando work," Skywalker continues, almost painfully earnest, "and I'd like to ensure whoever maintains them until Ben stops growing knows the right way to handle Mando art."

It's really not that different from a standard tattoo artist, but she's a little charmed anyway. Enchanted, almost. The man really does care.

"I can get you some names and addresses next time you stop by," she promises him. "It's been a few years since I checked in on their work, and I'll need to look them over before I make any recommendations."

He smiles at her, relieved in a manner she finds appallingly open for a Jedi like himself.

Ben mimics his father.

----

She gets to attend the wedding, months later.

The food is very, very good.

(Ben waits until the reception to show off his new tattoo, and the future Mand'alor does, in fact, cry.)

(So does Shmi.)

(So does their eight-week-old daughter, but that's probably unrelated to the tattoo.)

----

"Do you think getting a belly button ring would be good?"

Na-Tsuyon doesn't lift her head from her paperwork when Sokanth poses the question to the piercer. She's in for the horizontal brow bar, this time, and the labret is going to be somewhere a few months down the line.

"That's really up to you," the piercer says. His name is Hujnak, and he's a Devaronian that's been working here since Na-Tsuyon opened up the place. She loves him dearly, but he stole the last piece of cake and for that he will have no help with difficult customers for the next fortnight.

Or until she gets bored.

"I'm leaning towards 'no,' but I'm not sure," Soka muses. "I like the idea of it, but I feel like it might get snagged on things more easily. Plus, it's going to be a point of higher damage and pressure if I get a gut punch. It's one of the parts of my body I'm never really going to armor up, you know?"

They do know. There have been screaming matches about all the Jedi's refusal to wear enough armor on many occasions. The Jedi prioritize their agility to such a degree that armorweave is more reasonable than actual armor, in their opinion. This is an opinion that Fett and Mereel both take issue with.

At great volume.

(Shmi has vambraces, a gorget, and greaves, Na-Tsuyon knows. Some of it was exchanged at the wedding. Shmi doesn't wear much armor, certainly less than even the children. Shmi, crucially, isn't a warrior or otherwise planning to see battle.)

"Then I would say it may be best to hold off."

"Phooey," Soka says, though she doesn't seem particularly upset. "Ben's gonna be cooler than me forever, then."

"You think tattoos are cooler than piercings?" Hujnak challenges. "I'm offended."

"He can just get more," Soka protests. "Without it looking weird or getting dangerous, I mean."

Hujnak hums, noncommittal. "And you're worried about being cooler than the younger brother you have told me is, and I quote, the biggest nerd ever?"

"Well, yeah," Sokanth scoffs. "He's gonna start acting older than me as soon as he thinks he can get away with it. I gotta have something to hold over his head, you know?"

"Seeing as you are the older sibling..."

"Ehhhh..."

Nope.

Not paying attention.

----

"These are House Kryze colors."

Ylliben's breath hitches.

He is ten. He doesn't seem ready to provide answers. She turns to the father instead.

"Will that be a problem?" the general asks, calm and even.

"Yes," she says, and Ben slumps. She continues, because this is her job, and for a reason. "Unless you have a ready justification for when House Kryze asks, yes, it will be a problem. If it were a landscape or an animal, it wouldn't matter, but the pairing of the colors and the peace lily is an explicit statement of loyalty to Adonai and his heir, Satine. Unless you've suddenly decided to adjust your political stance to total pacifism instead of your Jedi approach, or have another reason to take on House Kryze colors, I'd warn against it at all, and would refuse to perform the work myself."

Ylliben's eyes are fixed somewhere behind her, and shining wetly.

"Okay," the general says. "Ben, do you have any other pallettes in mind?

"These were her colors," Ben whispers, and then he swallows thickly. "I just..."

"Simplify," Skywalker suggests. He fiddles with a necklace half-hidden in his Jedi layers; the japor one is visible, but a dull gold glint is all Na-Tsuyon can see of the other before it's tucked away again. "She'd understand, yeah? There's political ramifications. Dangerous ones, especially to you."

Interesting thing to say about a woman who, by Soka's earlier statements, died well before Ben was born.

They could at least try to stop dropping hints about their oddities. She doesn't want to know more.

"Lilac," Ben finally decides. "And... pale silver. With a filigree pattern in the shading?"

"I can do that," Na-Tsuyon promises.

She does not ask further.

----

"We're moving to Coruscant in a month."

Na-Tsuyon's head snaps up, head tails jolting almost painfully with the movement.

Sokanth is getting her labret, finally. She's gossiping as Hujnak prepares the tools, as usual, and Na-Tsuyon tries to ignore it when they Skywalkers do that, she does, but...

"You're leaving," she repeats, feeling oddly blank.

"Um... yeah?" Soka answers. She scratches at one stubby montral. "We've talked about it before. I thought you knew."

"I didn't realize it was so soon," Na-Tsuyon defends. She's more upset than she should be. "I thought you'd be waiting until the little princess was older."

Sokanth blinks at her, slow and... not judging, no. Evaluating, maybe.

"I'm almost thirteen," she says, slow and deliberate and heavy. "And Ben's eleven. There's no hard age limit for becoming a padawan, but I'm getting into the peak years for getting chosen, and I've been living here instead of in the Temple. I haven't had years to impress a potential Master like the others. That might not matter; sometimes a Master sees their future student and just knows, but... I need to have other Jedi to spar with, not just Skyguy and Ben. And Ben's visions are getting stronger, and Dad was never that good with his own in the first place, so he's worried about being able to help at all. We could stay longer, but..."

She trails off, and shrugs, and the weighted air disappears. "It's not the same thing as a verd'goten, at all, but it's about the same age, you know? I should be in the Temple for it."

"What would a verd'goten equivalent be?" Hujnak prompts, when Na-Tsuyon fails to find her words. "Being an adult and equal member and all such things?"

"Knighthood," Soka answers immediately. "Dad got knighted when he was twenty, but that's really young, usually. His master was knighted at twenty-five, which was a bit late, but apparently there was a whole dramatic thing going on there that Dad never got all the details about."

"Becoming a Padawan is a sign that your teachers see you as someone that is ready to take on the responsibilities of a Jedi, yes?" Hujnak asks. "That you may not be ready to go out on your own, but that you're old enough to understand your oaths and choose how to follow them, and to protect others?"

Sokanth considers this, and then nods. "Yeah, I guess it's similar to using the verd'goten to gauge if someone's ready to swear the Resol'nare, that way. Still not moving out, and just about entering an apprenticeship, but enough of an adult to make the choice of how to change the world."

"I think most cultures have something like that around the same age," Hujnak comments. "Some do it a bit later in the teens, but it's usually around your age that most... well, most cultures who age at the 'human standard' rate--"

Na-Tsuyon can't help the reflexive snort of derision. Neither can Soka. Hujnak, the closest to human in the room and yet still very much not, smiles like this is exactly what he intended.

"--most who age at that rate do have it somewhere in that eleven-to-seventeen range, I'd think."

Soka shrugs. "Yeah, well. Still gotta go to the Temple for it, you know?"

"Are you going to take the verd'goten at all?" Na-Tsuyon asks, suddenly a little desperate to keep the Skywalkers here, with Mandalore and all its people, just a fraction of a moment longer.

"I don't think so," Soka muses. "I've been thinking about it, but I should probably talk about it with Jango, yeah?"

"Yeah," Na-Tsuyon says, and feels like she's swallowing down around rocks.

----

As it turns out, the timing is very deliberate. Three weeks later, Jaster transfers the title of Mand'alor to his son.

(Though Na-Tsuyon does not know this, twenty-six is older than Jango was when he lost the title, once upon another life.)

There is a week of festivity. There is food, and drink, and dancing. Some people get married. Some people make announcements of impending births. Some people reveal songs they composed in preparation for this very day.

For a week, Mandalore celebrates a new king.

Then, the Jedi and his children leave.

(Ben gives Na-Tsuyon a hug before he goes.)

(She tries to understand why she feels like she's losing something when he does.)

#Obi Wan Kenobi #Anakin Skywalker #Ahsoka Tano #Shmi Skywalker #JangoShmi #Jango Fett #Disaster Lineage #star wars #time travel #de aging #mandalore #mandalorian culture #phoenix posts #Anakin and the Jedi Babies #tattoos #original characters #outsider pov #this is part one of three I think #it's two in the diddly darn morning and I am going to bed

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uppermocns-moved · 3 years

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𝘢𝘰𝘵 + 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘥

eren, armin, levi, jean

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 – nsfw (minors don’t like/reblog/respond), mentions of hard kinks, female reader. shifts in and out of canonverse/modernverse so use your imagination!

𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯 𝘫𝘢𝘦𝘨𝘦𝘳

always dominant. can be hard or soft dom depending on the mood.

into harder kinks (with heavy communication and consent): somno, breeding, impact play, breath play, free use, etc.

super high sex drive and usually always horny. when he’s bored, he’ll jerk off to pictures you’ve sent him and porn you’ve made together (he’s not camera shy), but never let himself cum, just lazily edge.

he edges for days at a time – not only goes it feel so fucking good, but it gives him thicker loads to pump inside you later.

obsessed with cumming inside you. he’ll fuck load after load as deep as he can inside you, watch in awe as it leaks out of you, then use his fingers to push it back in. he’s not shy about his possessiveness and this is just a further reminder that you’re his.

secretly doesn’t mind when you scratch up his back – he loves looking in the mirror and seeing visual evidence of how good he made you feel.

also secretly loves when you give him hickies in obvious spots. he does absolutely nothing to hide them, he loves reminding everyone of his place. it’s a nonverbal way of saying “i’m taken, fuck off”

wouldn’t care if he broke his neck from you riding his face. he welcomes it, actually.

heavily into bdsm (emphasis on the s&m), and dom/sub dynamics. while he loves perfect little subs that’ll treat him like some sort of god, he adores when you get bratty and talk back. makes things a lot more fun.

loves embarrassing you.

“my god, baby, can fuckin’ hear how wet you are.” “soaking your panties and i didn’t even fuckin’ touch you. what’s got you so wet, sweetheart? thinking of my cock?” “that felt good, didn’t it? don’t hide from me, pumpkin, let me see your pretty face.”

threesomes. foursomes. you name it. while eren’s possessive over you, he doesn’t mind sharing with his friends (if you consent, of course). he loves knowing how worked up everyone gets over his girlfriend, loves fucking you in front of them to show everyone how wrapped around his finger you are.

safeword! mean and rough is what eren does best. even while he’s slapping you around and calling you dummy, or an eager little slut for his cock, he’ll still check in with you and make sure you’re still feeling good and enjoying yourself. he may like hurting you, but he never wants to actually hurt you. never forgets aftercare, either, you’re still his precious angel that he loves more than anyone.

he’s incredibly vocal – dirty talk, moaning, growling, cursing, degradation.

if you’re too tired to go all the way, he loves mutual masturbation, or jerking himself off while you talk dirty in his ear. always wants to hear what you want him to do to you.

big fan of including toys, usually always fucking you with your magic wand on your clit.

sex without the power dynamics is still very intense and passionate. lots of making out, scratching his back and pulling him closer, deep thrusts, curses, eren telling you he loves you, kissing your forehead while you cum.

𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘦𝘳𝘵

doesn’t really involve himself in strict power dynamics. he’s very versatile and the role he assumes depends on the mood.

prefers biting over spanking and choking you with his fingers over wrapping a hand around your throat (but he will do both).

loves eating pussy and will tease you by gently kissing you through your panties. definitely bites your inner thighs. whispers to you from between your legs and tells you how good you taste. makes you cum over and over, each time moaning into your core and tightening his grip on your thighs to keep you right where he wants you. he only stops when you’re crying and twitching, physically unable to cum one more time.

loves when you’re rough and press his face into your pussy or pull his hair to guide his mouth where you want it. you can hurt him a little. as a treat.

loves when you grab him by the chin and pull him up for a desperate kiss after he eats you out for hours.

goes heavy on the body worship, especially when you wear pretty lil outfits for him.

memorized your body and knows it better than you do. he knows when you’re close, you can’t hide from him.

his possessive side comes out hardcore during sex – armin doesn’t share. he’ll bite marks into your flesh and use his sweet, soft-spoken voice to get into your head. he wants to be the only thought in your mind, the source of all your pleasure.

“mine. you’re all mine. not fuckin’ sharing you.”

if you want him to, he can be fucking mean. he contrasts his harsh words with gentle touches, or tells you sweet things while patting your cheek just a little too rough. it’s almost scary how effortlessly he can change his demeanor to someone entirely different.

loves when you come by to “help” him study (lazily jerk him off while he does his required reading and assignments).

actually just loves when you jerk him off for that matter, especially when he gets to rut into your fist until he’s overstimulated and making a mess of your hand.

easily excitable – just gotta kiss him with tongue all soft and slow and he’ll get all flustered poking against your leg

obsessed with having his mouth on your tits – sucking them, licking them, letting his hand palm and grope at the one not receiving attention.

eye contact is a massive turn on and makes everything feel so much more intimate. he’ll gently grab your chin and redirect your sight, or give your inner thigh a little nip to make you open your eyes again. “focus on me, sweet girl.”

armin’s weaknesses are praise and heavy personal attention. sometimes he’s stressed out and just needs you to take care of him. he’ll sit between your legs, back pressed to your front, and let you stroke him until he’s overstimulated or so pent-up from denial. it makes him dizzy when you whisper praise in his ear, telling him how pretty he looks and how good he’s being for you.

“you wanna cum for me, pretty boy? that feel good? you like when i touch you like this, don’t you? such a good boy for me, armin.”

𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘪 𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘯

no defined power dynamic/roles – you do whatever the mood calls for. sometimes he’s pounding you into next week, sometimes you’re denying him orgasms for two hours straight until his voice cracks when he begs.

that being said, levi is a natural brat-tamer and can be a hard dom when he’s agitated and needs to blow off steam. his job is literally to keep brats in check – he doesn’t tolerate insubordination or backtalk (sometimes you test that out though).

restraining your arms behind your back with his belt, spanking you until you can’t sit, reprimanding slaps, filthy degradation, punishing thrusts. he can be mean.

“soaking through your panties and i didn’t even touch you. pathetic.” “i wasn’t fucking asking. knees, now.”

he’s a masochist and loves when you scratch up his back, wrap a hand around his throat, bite him, pull his hair, etc.

borderline sadistic in the way that he will make you cum twenty times before he even considers letting up. he’s relentless.

loves watching you get yourself off, or make out with you while you get each other off

gets weak when you pull him in by the shirt collar

holds your hands :)

quickies are usually the only option due to your chaotic schedules. you get at least five minutes alone together, you don’t take it for granted.

slow morning sex is his favorite – the sun is barely peeking over the horizon and you don’t have to worry about the outside world yet. it’s just the two of you and you can really take your time.

starts off kind of shy about being vocal and you need to ease him into it

after he finishes, he’ll take a moment to caress and admire your pretty face and kiss your forehead, then make a teasing comment about how you’re sweaty.

gets a little carried away and accidentally rips all the buttons off your shirt

giving you head is a form of stress relief for him, he really just loves pleasuring you

takes incredible care of you afterwards – acts as a crutch when your legs are too shaky, gets you water, wipes away messes with a damp cloth, even runs you a bath if you have that much time.

“tch. don’t say i never do anything for you, brat.”

likes when you give him hickies in spots that his uniform will cover. it’s a secret that only the two of you are in on.

levi gets a little publicly affectionate when you return to your duties after having sex – still incredibly reserved, but he’ll ruffle your hair and look at you with the fondest eyes. maybe give your hand a squeeze if nobody’s looking.

𝘫𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘬𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘪𝘯

naturally dominant. typically a softer dom unless you provoke him, then he has no issue roughing you up and fucking you into a drooling mess.

so big and strong and loves any position that demonstrates that – fucking you against the wall with your legs wrapped tight around his hips, stand-and-carry, having you on top and bouncing you like you weigh nothing.

loves when you dig your nails into his back

slightly prefers ass over tits but is overall a leg/thigh kind of guy. includes feet. i’m so sorry.

stockings/thigh high socks/fishnets/garters absolutely knock him out

great stamina while you’re fucking but almost instantly falls asleep when you’re done. or just wants to cuddle.

mildly into somnophilia (receiving – loves being woken up with blowjobs)

praises you heavily while you’re riding him

“that’s it, just like that. good girl. good fucking girl.”

can get a little too romantic when he’s really close and not thinking clearly

“gonna make me cum, angel, love this pussy so fucking much. love you so fucking much.”

prefers cumming inside you but he’s really just happy to be included

he gets a little goofy during quickies and does things like bite your asscheek before eating you out.

secretly loves when you tie his wrists to the headboard and use him however you want. overstimulation is one of his favorite things, especially when it’s your hand forcing orgasm after orgasm from him.

generally into rope-play but also really likes using his hands and sheer strength alone

bite his bottom lip or gently touch his upper thigh and he’s instantly hard

he’s a hopeless romantic! masturbating alone isn’t the same! he likes dirty-talking on the phone with you when you’re not together, or he just waits until you are.

will break the headboard and dent the wall if he gets carried away

loves shower sex after stressful days

gets hard from making out – especially if you’re half-dressed on his lap and grinding against his bulge. sometimes he can feel you all warm and throbbing through your panties and he almost blacks out.

worships your pussy but he will actually start writing his vows the moment you take him down your throat.

request your fav here. more of my writing.

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cloudenthusiast2 · 3 years

Text

To be a human - Scaramouche x reader - Part 1

Synopsis: You knew committing to a relationship Scaramouche would be no easy task but you loved him dearly and unlike others, you believed he wasn't evil. But as a mortal and the devoted protector of your village you were too much of a good person, too much of a human compared to him and your differences slowly start to show.

Next: Part 2

Type: mostly angst, this part is still light tho

Warnings: none... yet

Length: not as long as it seems. I'll try to write the next chapters as soon as possible

Scaramouche turned his back to the mountains he's been staring at to look at the path leading to Qingce village. The sun shone through the fog above the rice fields, colouring everything in golden light. Trees sighed as the gentle morning breeze caressed them while glaze lilies slowly started to close their blossoms.

The view was absolutely mesmerising but it didn't absorb the exoticly dressed, short man even for a minute.

'Finally' he snorted unpatiently as you appeared out of the fog, walking towards him with a big smile. 'What took you so long?'

'Good morning' you answered in a calm, low-key but still visibly cheerful manner.

He mumbled some words to himself but you didn't even try to understand what he was saying. It was probably for the better anyway.

You were both happy you could finally see each other but Scaramouche would obviously never express such feelings, not even towards you. You didn't care so much about that though since the time you spent with trying to bare with him finally paid off. You could confidently say now that you actually knew him and his difficult personality well.

Yes, the constant need to search for clues that could tell you about his hidden emotions was a little tiering but you could usually put up with it.

You haven't been able to see him in a really long time as well. You were living in a small village in Liuye while Scaramouche was always travelling around Teyvat and could only visit you between two jobs. He wasn't the type to write letters so sometimes even months passed without you hearing anything about him.

He came back to you yesterday agter five weeks, to spend a little time in Qingce, the village you lived in and protected with your biggest gift, a Hydro vision.

'Where do you want to go?'

'Doesn't matter.'

'We could go to the forest! It's really pretty in the morning. And later we could pick some chili. I promised Pops Kai that I would bring some to him.'

He didn't react. You knew he didn't like you - his words - 'being a slave of those people' so he just ignored the fact someone requested something from you again.

'How did your last job go?' You asked as you two were slowly walking below the rice fields, watching the sun come up from behind the mountains.

'Could have been worse' he answered curtly. 'Inazuma is a pain in the neck. And there were some... unfortunate events I do not wish to discuss. But at least now I'm back.'

He looked up to the village and his piercing blue eyes narrowed as he took a glance of the neat but definitely archaic looking houses.

'Even this hick town is better than thet hell hole.'

Your facial expression strained for a moment as you heard him insulting the village which happened to be your favourite place all in Teyvat. You calmed your expressions but couldn't help and sting back a little.

'I thought you liked Inazuma' you retorted in a dry tone. 'It's where you're from after all.'

Scaramouche's face immediately darkened and you instantly realised the big mistake you made.

You knew a little about his origins, just enough to understand why he never told about it to you. Regret appeared in you for mentioning his past. At least Scaramouche didn't scold you for it but the air between you two visibly got heavier.

You continued your walk in silence and you couldn't stop cursing yourself for saying such insensitive things. It took two minutes for you to start bickering - this number made you feel sad and stupid.

But then again - he didn't even realise how hard he insulted your village and even if he did, he probably wouldn't regret it by one bit.

You lifted your chin and looked straight into the distance. You could see the various fatui agents scattered around the village, all standing guard for the sixth harbinger next to you.

You didn't like him being a part of the fatui at all but there wasn't much you could do about it. You only hoped and prayed that he one day would leave them after getting enough of the Tsaritsa and her overwhelming, suffocating power. After all, he only joined them because they 'seemed fun' and so far they were more of an annoyance then an genuine source of amusement for him.

'Unless he likes all the bloody tasks they're handing to him' you thought to yourself and then couldn't help but feel a little sick in the stomach.

You loved the man walking next to you but not every part of his personality. Not that part which screamed evil.

You weren't blinded by love. You knew he was indeed cruel sometimes. The part affecting you, his rudeness, his hatred towards any type of affection didn't concern you, it was actually kind of amusing. You loved to tease him about it and when he had an actual soft moment... it was heaven itself.

But you couldn't help but feel worried for others. What was he actually doing behind your back? Did he ever... kill someone? He seemed to be enjoying ending monsters a little too much. And he was quite open about his feelings towards humans. He hated all of them... you were probably the only exception.

'Say, Scara' you decided to broke the silence. He glanced at you, his face and movements still stiff. 'If there was a job suiting you in Liyue...'

'Stop tryna make me quit the fatui' he cut into your words in a harsh tone. 'It's not going to happen.'

'That's not what I was trying to do. I just... want to see you more often. Even after months I can only get a day or two with you... and we're not even alone.'

'If it's the Tsaritsa's order then I will follow it.' You averted your eyes. Barely a sentence in and you were already dejected by his words. 'Even though... I'd like to see you more too.'

You quickly rose your chin just to catch a glance of him rolling his eyes before he quickly turned his head away.

A wide smile lit up your face and you couldn't help but instantly start to gently tease him.

'Oh my, am I mistaken or is the almighty Balladeer actually admitting his oh-so-ridicoulus wishes to a mortal? Scara, are you okay? Yore getting soft, be careful before you get so weak even a slime could defeat you!'

'Just shut up, okay?' He growled at you but you just happily laughed. He's back. 'I'm gonna take my words back if you only show disrespect at...'

'Sure, sure' you smirked. 'Just admit you have a crush on me, Weeky-mouche!'

'Your nicknames are absolutely ridiculous' he claimed, ignoring the rest of the sentence.

'Oh, so what do you want me to call you then?' The temptation was too strong, you couldn't help but wink at him which made him growl in disgust again. 'Sweetheart, perhaps? Or honey?'

'I swear, you're as annoying as that damn red scum' he snorted, referring to his colleague, Childe.

You wanted to continue teasing him but as you turned right on the path you were walking on, a small shilouette - even smaller than Scaramouche's - appeared in front of you.

'Oh, little Yu!' You gasped, recognising the little 4-years-old girl.

Her dark hair was sparkling from the light of the morning sun and it put a tiny fire into her golden eyes as well. She looked like a magical little creature in the mystical forest, surrounded by old trees and young flowers.

A precious smile lit her face up as she saw you and the little girl reached out with both of her hands.

'Miss Y/n!'

You picked her up in an instant. Your favourite thing in guarding Qingce village was the people that lived in it and Yu always had a special place in your heart.

'Are you picking flowers?' You asked her and gently brushed her hair out of her face. 'For who?'

'Mommy' explained the little girl. 'It's her birthday tomorrow!'

'You're a very kind little lady, Yu' you praised her with a gentle smile. Holding a tiny, adorable creature like her was amongst the best feelings you've experienced, next to being with your lover, Scaramouche.

You didn't realise it was mainly because you were completely touch-starved.

Yu nodded but she didn't look at you. You followed her glance and you realised she was staring at Scaramouche.

The man was standing three feet away from you, with crossed arms and a hostile look on his face.

'Who is he?' Little Yu asked from you, fixing her eyes on the unfriendly expression of Scara's.

'His name is Scaramou... Just call him Scara.'

The man and the girl stared at each other.

'You needn't be afraid of him. He doesn't bite' you said jokingly but the little child's face remained serious.

'Why isn't he smiling?' She asked quietly. Scara glared at her.

'He's a little hard to make smile but he's still a good person' you promised her.

'Are you sure?'

Her words were innocent but they hit you really hard. Your breath stopped for a second and the fake smile on your face faded away.

'Now listen here you little...'

'I am sure. Don't worry' you cut down Scaramouche, sending a warning look to him.

He stayed silent but he looked like he could explode at any moment.

Maybe the child was able to sense it, maybe not, but she tried to get out of your hug all of a sudden. You put her down carefully, not forgetting to caress her hair and rosy cheeks even though her words upset both of you.

'I'm gonna go pick more flowers.'

'Yes. Be careful in the forest.' You warned her. 'Call my name if you're in danger!'

She nodded and ran away on her bare feet, looking like a little fairy among the old trees.

Leaving you alone with Scaramouche.

#cloudenthusiast #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact #Scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin x reader #genshin angst #scaramouche angst #genshin fanfic #genshin #genshin Scaramouche

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bestiesenpai · 3 years

Text

Hostage - Okkotsu Yuta

At first when I saw this my internal response was that there was nothing that I really wanted to write, no scenario that would warrant answering such a question. But I’ve given it time and well...what better thing to write than a horny for love delusional yandere? Gender neutral and Okkotsu in this has graduated from the school, I imagine him to be mid-20s 4.8k words

Content warnings: yandere shit(which in this context includes kidnapping, past stalking and being really fucking creepy), manipulation, noncon hand job

How long had you been here in this dark basement with only a red couch and a TV that wouldn’t turn on? There wasn’t a single window to tell you if it was day or night, no clock on the wall to say if it had been ten minutes or ten hours since you were kidnapped. You didn’t even know who could have taken you, knocked out from behind after hearing a mysterious voice.

There wasn’t a single lead to go on except for the fact that you would pass out from time to time and wake up to food on the low coffee table, hot meals that helped to soothe your otherwise empty mind and body for however short a time it allowed. Sometimes there would be candy stuffed into your pockets as well, candy that you never ate and let pile up in one of the corners of the room.

The door at the top of the stairs leading down to where you were stayed locked at all times and no amount of banging and screaming and trying to break it down worked. All your efforts were for nothing, you didn’t even make a scratch in the wood.

Whoever put you down here seemed too hesitant to show you their identity. You never heard anyone outside the door and whenever you thought you did, you would wake up however many hours later with food and no recollection of what happened before then.

Until today, when the door silently swayed open and there was the barely there tap of footsteps coming down to greet you. Scurrying behind the couch and crouching down, you were scared to finally meet your captor.

“Hello there.” He wasn’t at all what you imagined. A young man with noticeable bags under his eyes, hair with a few strands that fell into his face and an otherwise unassuming and slim build. His voice was soft and gentle like he was talking to a baby as he roused them from slumber.

He immediately noticed the way you were trying to stay away from him, making sure to keep the couch between you as he rounded it. A sad sigh left his lips, a short sound like he was already getting frustrated with what you were doing.

“Darling, why don’t you sit down? There’s a lot to discuss.” Gesturing toward the couch, he took a seat at the end. It was then that you noticed the sheathed sword he had on his back as he took it off and laid it on the table.

Your mouth hadn’t been used to speak to anyone in a long time, tongue heavy and foreign in your mouth. Having given up screaming for help a long time ago, you didn’t speak to anyone unless to yourself, and even then it had devolved to being just thoughts in your head.

So you shook your head no, trying to keep your sudden anxious breathing down to a minimum. You’d waited for this day to finally see who took you but now that he was here in front of you, just his presence brought you great stress.

“Are you feeling okay?” The man asked again, brows furrowing slightly. The look of genuine concern on his face is what caused you to speak, spiking anger in your heart.

“No!” You shouted, surprising both him and yourself.

“Why don’t you sit down, hm?” He patted the cushion next to him and you shook your head harder.

“No, no. L-let me go!” Tears were already beginning to collect in your eyes, some spilling out the sides. Were they from anger at being held captive? From how concerned he looked when he was the one who put you there? Was it from fear of what he could do to you? Perhaps hopelessness at the whole situation was starting to set into places you tried so hard to keep it out of.

“You shouldn’t yell, (Y/N), it’s not good for your throat.”

“What the fuck would you know.” Now anger was truly taking residency inside your chest, making it tighten with each pounding beat of your heart. This man had the nerve to call you by your first name as if he was a friend, the syllables rolling so smoothly off his tongue it sounded as if he had said it a hundred times.

“Don’t swear at me.” He snapped, face immediately going hard as he stared you down. The look made a shiver go down your spine, the anger quickly making space for fear to come as well. He sighed again, glancing at his sword before looking at you again. “Now please, won’t you sit down?”

This time when he asked, you listened. Hovering on the very edge of the cushion farthest from him, your entire body was painfully stiff and unyielding even to your own breathing. It was different when you were standing and he was sitting, it felt like there was a level of control that you still had.

But this felt like you were just a pitiful little rabbit with their neck caught right in a lion's mouth.

“Oh darling don’t cry, don’t cry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” His tone immediately shifted back to the soft and gentle one from earlier. Reaching his hand out, he stopped short of touching your arm when you curled yourself away. Putting his hand into a fist and tucking it back into his lap, he let out a sharp exhale. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t touch you, should I? You must be nervous now that I’m here.”

Sniffling and nodding were all you could do to answer him. Maybe there was a logical reason he might have taken you, there had to be a solution to whatever problem he had that involved you.

“It’s funny, I’d say. We’re soulmates and yet we’re still so nervous with each other.”

What?

“Why, it took me almost two weeks just to do this much! I finally stopped having Inumaki put you to sleep and-”

Huh?

“Before you know it this will all be a distant memory, we’ll be living together-”

“Wh-what the fuck.” Your voice was meek and trembling and there were fat tears streaming down your face that couldn’t be stopped now. Listening to this man go on and on about this life he’d made for the two of you all in his head was going to drive you insane.

“What was that?” He paused, a hopeful smile on his face. Glancing at him, you set your bleary eyes on the sword.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” As the swear left your lips, you flinched at his sudden inhale. “I-I don’t- I don’t know you. We’ve never met.” Burrowing your face in your hands was probably a bad idea, it was probably best to keep him in your line of sight, but you just couldn’t face him.

“Physically we’ve never met, but our hearts have. Our souls are connected, we just had to find each other.” There was a dip in the cushions and the ghost of his knee brushed yours.

“I don’t even know your name!” You croaked, further curling in on yourself by dropping your head to your knees. At this rate you were set to fall off the couch and onto the floor and you welcomed the reprieve not being next to him would bring.

“I’m Yuta. Yuta Okkotsu.” The first touch of his fingers on your shoulder made you yelp and jerk away, and you could imagine his hand hovering in the air. “But you can just call me your boyfriend, okay?”

“You’re fucking crazy.” Getting up from the couch the second time he touched you, you pressed yourself against the furthest wall next to a chess table with no pieces.

“Darling-”

“No, don’t fucking call me that!” Stamping your foot on the ground, you ignored his warning tone.

“(Y/N), I told you-”

“I don’t give a damn! I don’t want to be part of whatever bullshit you said earlier! Just- just let me go!” You were getting hysterical at this point, your whole body was hot and sweaty and your face was on fire. It was hard to hear anything over the ringing and pounding in your ears giving you headache.

Except you were able to hear the sound of a knife going through the air and feel it graze your cheek before sticking into the wall behind you. Everything fell away as you looked at the silver blade glinting in the harsh fluorescent light above you. There was just the tiniest hint of red at the edge, further proof that what you felt was real.

“I don’t mind you getting upset, I don’t mind you yelling and screaming at me. It’s a normal reaction to such a new situation.” Yuta’s low voice cut through the sudden silence and he stood up slowly, swaying slightly on his feet before planting them firmly on the ground. “But what I won’t have is such ugly words coming out of your mouth. That type of language doesn’t belong in a mouth as pretty as yours.”

He walked over to you slowly, building the tension with every step he took. It was then that you noticed, when he was only a foot away, that the silver of the knife matched the silver buttons on his shirt.

“If I have to remind you again, I promise I won’t miss.” Letting the sentence hang in the air, Yuta gave you a once over before grabbing onto your wrist and upper arm tightly and dragging you back to the couch. His strength was much more than you first assumed, there wasn’t a chance in hell that you could ever hope to wiggle out of his hold.

Sitting down with a huff, he pulled you onto his lap, forcing you to straddle him. Putting your hands on his shoulders, he settled his on your hips, making sure you were properly seated on his outstretched legs. Staring at the buttons on his shirt, you tried to avoid getting too close - keeping at least some semblance of an arms length between you and making sure your sex was far from his.

“This isn’t so bad, is it?” It was amazing how easily his mood shifted from one to the other. What had just been a quite heavy and intense moment was washed away by a little uptick of his lips and the tilt of his head to the side.

The things you wished to say were lodged in your mouth, waiting on the tip of your tongue for you to open up and let them fall out. But you couldn’t afford to keep testing his patience like this, not after what just happened.

“I suppose.” So you bite your tongue hard and say what you think will get you closer to getting out. Whatever it is he wants you can give him so long as it keeps him happy and lets you walk free.

“I knew you’d come around.” The smile on Yuta’s face takes proper form, pushing the apples of his cheeks up and wrinkling his eyes. One hand on your hips dares to venture further onto the small of your back. The warmth of his palm would be comforting in another setting.

“Y-yuta.” It almost makes you sick to say his name.

“Yes?” It makes his eyes light up.

“When will I get to leave?” Somewhere along the line you’d stopped crying and now only your eyes burned with the memory of the tears.

“When I know you’re ready, (Y/N).” He said softly, rubbing a hand on your back.

“Ready how?”

“I just want to make sure of a few things before we start our new life together. Is that okay?”

Did you really have a choice?

“What things?” You pushed, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

“Don’t worry about that right now. We’re together now and that’s all that matters.”

“Please tell me, I really want to know.”

“(Y/N).” He sang your name but it was anything but cheery. “I don’t want to talk about that right now, so drop it please.” Even though he was speaking his mouth barely moved, jaw locked tight in hardly hidden frustration.

“Okay.” You quickly let the subject go.

“Now darling…” Yuta brought a hand up to your face, trailing his fingers down your cheek softly. “Won’t you smile for me? You have such a pretty smile.”

The question of how he knew what your smile looked like cropped up in your head but you quickly stamped it out. Now wasn’t the time to worry about those things. Doing as he asked, you gave him your best smile.

“Absolutely gorgeous.” Skimming his thumb along your bottom lip, Yuta grasped your chin in his fingers. “I’ve been missing your smile so much lately, the recent missions I’ve been on have really put a damper on my mood.”

“I’m- I’m sorry to hear that.” Extending an olive branch wouldn’t hurt, right? It was clear he wanted your compliance in this scheme of his, desperate to have you love him. Your words shot straight into Yuta’s heart, making him bite his lip in to stop a shy giggle from coming out.

“It’s okay, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I have my darling with me.” A light blush went over his cheeks and Yuta let a sliver of the giggle out. “But there is something that would make me feel even better.”

“What’s that?” It didn’t take a genius to figure out what he meant when his thumb touched your lip again.

“A kiss. Just one, I promise.” Licking his own lips, Yuta grabbed onto your jaw more firmly. “I swear I’ll be gentle.” Weighing your options, the inkling that it wouldn’t be ‘just one’ was in the back of your head. But as long as it stayed just kissing, maybe you’d be okay.

“One.” You repeated, allowing him to pull you in and close the gap between you. Kissing Yuta was something that, once again, would feel nice in any other circumstance. The texture of his lips wasn’t bad, his breath didn’t smell and he seemed to know what he was doing. Maybe in another world, you really could have been soulmates.

Breaking the first kiss to take a short inhale, Yuta immediately went in for another. The hand that was on your jaw slid up to the back of your head, holding it firmly in his calloused hand to make sure you didn’t move.

“Y-yuta!” Whining against his lips, you tried to push away from him.

“Just one, I know! I know but-” He mumbled back, the tip of his tongue daring to touch your pursed lips. “I can’t help it, I love you so much.” Crushing you against him, Yuta got his tongue into your mouth when you gasped for air. The urge to bite him arose and you almost did, but he pulled away right as you made the decision to.

“You said only one!” Giving his chest a hard push, you wiped the spit off your lips in disgust.

“I know, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Putting his hands on your back, Yuta grimaced at you. “I’m sorry darling, I just got excited! I’ve been dreaming of kissing you for so long, can you blame me for wanting more?”

You could blame him for that and a few other things. Wiping your mouth off again, you huffed angrily and avoided his sorry eyes.

“Don’t do it again.”

“I won’t lie to you anymore, I promise.” Yuta mumbled, already forcing you closer again. “Let me make it up to you.”

“Yuta, no.” Shaking your head, you put a hand over your mouth. The blush that was on Yuta’s cheeks got darker and a hand gripped the back of your neck.

“It may be a bit soon, but there are other places where I can kiss you.” Latching his lips onto the side of your neck, Yuta sucked on the skin lightly. He didn’t want to leave any unseemly marks on you and he wouldn’t dream of using his teeth.

“Yuta, get off.” Tugging on his collar, you squirmed at the feeling. “P-please, Yuta, get off.” You were getting more desperate by the moment, accelerated by his lips going down the column of your throat and to the collar of your top.

“I just want to kiss you, (Y/N).”

“No, no I don’t-” As his head nudged your chin up, you started to sweat and really yank at the fabric in your hands. “I don’t want you to kiss me there, Yuta!” Your voice reached a crescendo and the soft sound of his kisses stopped. Pulling away slowly, Yuta kept his head ducked down.

“I’m sorry (Y/N), I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Releasing the hold on your neck, Yuta smooths his hand down your back once more and threads his fingers together at the base of your spine.

Struggling to catch your breath, you force yourself to relax and let your head dip down, uncurling the fingers fisting the fabric of Yutas shirt and letting the blood naturally flow back to them.

As the silent seconds tick by, there’s something that comes into your consciousness that can’t be ignored. There’s already a good amount of heat built up between you and Yuta from the kisses you shared and the struggle that ensued.

But was he that much of a repressed man that just kissing your lips and neck had his cock standing at half attention? It seemed so, because when you made a face at it, he chuckled sheepishly.

“Sorry.” Yuta wasn’t sorry for what was happening. He didn’t feel remorse for any of this, especially not the thing that was causing you distress now. It was only natural for such a reaction to occur! You were squirming so much on his lap while he kissed you that it was like you were begging him to get hard.

Gently raking his nails up and down your back, Yuta stared hard at your lips. His gaze almost pierced right through you and he wasn’t subtle about wanting another kiss. Another slurry of apologies left Yuta’s lips as he once again grabbed the back of your head and forced you to kiss him. His words got mushed together, spoken against your lips as he tried to work his tongue into your mouth.

Whatever screams of protest you had didn’t matter in this moment, Yuta was a man on a mission and desperate to take what was his. He felt bad about pushing your boundaries and ruining the chance of growing an actual relationship any time soon, but those were things he was willing to sacrifice.

And after all, good boyfriends help their partners grow in uncomfortable situations.

Moaning in a high pitch when your crotch just barely grazed his, Yuta took advantage of the fact you were too busy trying to push him away to focus on your lower half. Grabbing you tightly at the hips, he dragged you forward and fully pushed you against the front of his pants.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He panted as he moved your bodies in tandem, getting bolder and bucking his hips like a sad teenager dry humping for the first time. This continued for a while and you were sure he was going to cum when he suddenly stopped and flopped his head back against the couch.

Fervently wiping off your lips, the urge to slap him came over you in a blinding rage, and you quickly swiped your hand down. Fully expecting to make contact with his face, you put all the strength you could into the motion only to be stopped by Yuta grabbing your wrist.

“Hitting isn’t very nice, (Y/N).” He sounded like a disappointed preschool teacher and when you raised your other hand to try and slap him he caught that one as well. Holding both your wrists tightly in his grasp, Yuta stared at your heaving chest as he thought about what to do.

“Let me go.” You said, trying to tug yourself free.

“Sshh, I’m thinking.” His eyes wouldn’t leave your chest and he licked his lips. “I think I know a better use for your hands.” Letting go of one of them, Yuta was quick to go to the button on his jeans and undo them.

Your fingers were touching his clothed cock before you had a chance to protest. The speed Yuta moved at was dizzying and you seemed to be about 10 seconds behind him, left to scramble and catch up on whatever he’d done.

“Just a little, please?” Yuta whined and gripped your fingers around his cock, digging into the fabric of his dark underwear and outlining the shape of his cock.

“Yuta…” Back were the tears, a light misting this time that blurred your vision. It was gross touching him, even as the scent of a minty body wash rolled off him. This was gross, the heat from his cock and the way the skin moved beneath your fingers all felt horribly off.

“Just be good for me, (Y/N), I know you can do that.” Giving your lips a quick peck, Yuta let out a shaky exhale. His hand was holding yours so tightly your hand pulsed, throbbing from lack of circulation.

Touching him through his underwear quickly became not enough for Yuta and he hurriedly pulled his cock out, shoving his underwear down his thighs a bit to make more room. Unbuttoning the large overshirt he had on, Yuta let out another exhale as the sweat evaporated off his body.

“Are you shy? Here, touch it like this.” Gingerly now he wrapped your hand around his shaft, squeezing with just enough pressure to make sure you were really holding it. You tried to avoid looking at it, staring at the tanktop Yuta had on underneath his other shirt.

Tilting your head up, he kissed you gently as he worked your hand up and down his cock, slowly loosening his hold the longer he went until he was able to let go and you were still stroking him.

“I love you so much.” He whispered, breaking the kiss to press his forehead against yours. “So, so much.” You whimpered in response, keeping your eyes tightly closed to avoid looking at him. “I’ve followed you for so long now, it feels amazing to finally be here with you.”

“Followed?” You didn’t want to know, you didn’t want to know, you didn’t-

“Six months. For six long, agonizing months I watched you from the shadows. Making sure you were safe, following you home from work to make sure no one messed with you, going into your home when you weren’t there to make sure you didn’t have the stove on-”

“Stop.” Sniffling back another wave of tears, you shook your head. “I-I can’t, please-”

“You’re right, I’m killing the mood.” Chuckling softly, Yuta kissed at the corner of your eye. Putting his hand back on yours, he sped up the pace and bucked his hips up. “A-and I really don’t want to do that.”

Kissing you again lest he start rambling again, Yuta moaned freely into your mouth. He had dreamed of this moment and so many others, staying up late at night just fantasizing about you touching him and finally being in his arms.

To say he was pent up was an understatement. Ever since he saw you, Yuta vowed not to touch himself, wanting you to be the only one that gave him such pleasure. It was a painful wait, but every time he saw you he knew it was worth it - and it was. He was already nearing an orgasm and it hadn’t even been that long.

“Oh darling-” His face started to screw up and Yuta broke the kiss, putting his head on your shoulder and making your hand go faster. “God I love you, (Y/N)! I lo-love-” He was babbling now, unable to focus on any full sentence coming out of his mouth. “Say it- tell me.”

“Say what?” You asked, struggling to keep your breathing even as you felt him get closer to the edge.

“You love me. Tell me you- tell me you love me, even if it’s not true yet.” Yuta was so close it hurt, but he refused to cum unless you said those words.

“I-I-” The desire to not say it was strong, keeping you from really forming the words. It wasn’t true right now and it would never be true. You would never love Yuta for as long as you lived.

“Say it, say it please!” Yuta wailed, his other hand gripping your waist so hard you were afraid he was going to break something. “I love you so much, just say it back!”

“I love you! Yuta, I love you, okay?” His hold was really starting to hurt and as soon as you said it, he let go. “I love you, I love you.” You repeated over and over until his body locked up and he came with an almost sobbing moan.

“Oh god, darling, I love you.” Yuta wasn’t crying but he might as well have been. His hand stopped for a brief moment before continuing, coating the back of his hand and your fingers in his cum. He kept going until he was able to squeeze the last drop of cum out of him, swiping at the tip with his thumb until the sensation began to hurt.

It was too quiet now in the room without Yuta’s frantic breathing and mindless babbles. Taking deep, gasping breaths, he forced himself to calm down and let go of your hand, letting his softening cock fall down against him.

“Here.” In his pocket he had a handkerchief and Yuta wiped your hand clean, diligently going between the digits and getting every last pearly drop. Throwing it onto the coffee table, Yuta collapsed back onto the couch with a heavy sigh.

His face was impossibly blissed out, a dopey smile stretching his face and showing off his teeth. He couldn’t be happier in this moment, the weight of your body on his lap a constant reminder that this was real life, the reality that he had been dreaming of and striving for for so long.

The door he had entered from creaked open much faster than when he entered, and there were thundering footsteps descending the stairs quickly. Yuta immediately perked up, hugging you close to his chest as he turned over his shoulder to look at who came in.

“This is a surprise.” There was a tall, lanky man standing at the bottom of the steps, his white hair sticking up in all directions. You wondered how he could see with a blindfold on and Yuta seemed happy to see him.

“Gojo, hello!” Rushing to fix his pants, Yuta helped you off his lap and stood up.

“I see you’ve finally made yourself acquainted.” Gojo grinned, his head flicking towards you for a moment.

“Mhmm! We uh- we’re having a great time getting to know each other.” Yuta flushed, trying to not make it obvious that his pants had just been undone and that you’d just been jerking him off.

“Well I hate to break up a happy couple, but there’s a visitor here for you. I think you’re going to have another mission soon.”

“Really, so soon? I just-” Glancing at you, Yuta bit his tongue. “I’ll be back soon.” Grabbing his sword and the knife still stuck in the wall, Yuta gave you one more look before walking past Gojo and up the stairs. As soon as the door clicked closed, you shot up from the couch and walked around to Gojo.

“Please, you have to help me, get me out of here!” Clasping your hands together in front of you, you pleaded as hard as you could. “H-he’s absolutely crazy, please help me!” Unable to look Gojo in the eye, you could only assume he was looking back at you from the way his head moved.

“That’s not very nice, now is it?” He questioned, quirking a brow and crossing his arms. “Yuta loves you so much, you shouldn’t say those things about him.”

“Sir please, you don’t understand!” Shaking your head hard, you let out a frustrated groan. “I don’t belong here! He kidnapped me, don’t you understand?!” It felt like you were the only sane one left in the world. Gojo chuckled and sighed, placing a large hand on the top of your head and leaning forward.

“Actually, Yuta wasn’t the one that actually kidnapped you.” A soft ‘no’ escaped your lips and Gojo laughed again, drinking in the sinking feeling in your gut and the way it twisted your face in agony. “It was me.”

#tw: noncon #tw: yandere #jujutsu kaisen #okkotsu yuta #yuta okkotsu x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

Text

If I Fell For You (Part 11) - Downtown

Summary: The reader and Jensen have a very fun night in downtown Austin but things start to take a turn when Jensen gets anxious and the reader calls in an old friend for help. A week later the whole family heads up North and the reader gets to meet her future family for the first time but she gets the notion she’s not exactly as welcomed as some of them say...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Square: Coitus Interruptus

Word Count: 7,700ish

Warnings: Mature (language, minor frightening situation, semi-public smut, implied past assault, anxiety attack, family angst, family fluff)

A/N: This part is a rollercoaster, trust me! Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

A/N: Also written for @spnkinkbingo

________

“Jensen?” you said from the shower a few hours later. He hummed from the vanity where he was fixing his hair. “Are we going to a dress up kind of place for dinner?”

“A dress would probably be in order but something casual, like a summer one or something,” he said. “Like your white one with the little yellow flowers on it.”

“I bought that like three days ago,” you laughed. “You’ve never even seen me in it.”

“You gonna let me see you in it tonight?” he asked.

“Maybe,” you teased.

“I’ll leave it out on the bed,” he said. “Oh and a little something else I’d like if you put on too.”

“Did you buy me underwear?” you laughed.

“You’re gonna have to wait and see, sweetheart,” he said. “Just do what the note on the bed says, alright?”

“Alright, alright. I’ll play your game,” you said. You heard him leave and finished washing up, ducking out of the shower and working on your hair. It dried quickly thankfully and you threw it up into a loose pony tail, a few loose strands framing your face. You put on chapstick and thought about doing your makeup but decided against it. It wasn’t a fancy place you were going from the sounds of it and it was warm out which meant sweat which meant your face was going to melt off anyways.

In the bedroom you found your dress on the bed along with a strip of fabric and a folded piece of paper.

Get dressed and then put this on. I’ll be back soon.

“Well what are you up to Ackles,” you said. You threw on some underwear and a strapless bra, pulling on the short flowy summer dress and leaning back against the bed. You picked up the fabric and shook your head, tying it over your eyes before you laid back on the mattress. About ten minutes later the door opened and you sat up, Jensen chuckling.

“You look beautiful,” he said.

“What’s the big secret?” you asked.

“Oh, nothing at all. I am gonna need you to keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times mam,” he said before he was scooping you up. You threw your arms around him and he walked you out of the room, carrying you over to a quiet loft corner of the upstairs. “Stay put. I’ll be right back.”

You relaxed back into the lounger you occasionally found him hiding away in to take a nap or do some reading. You stretched out, hearing the floor creak.

“Ready to go?” he asked, picking you up once again.

“We’re not going out are we,” you said, holding on as you felt him walk you around and a door open, the air suddenly a bit warmer with a slight breeze to it.

“Oh we’re going out,” he said, setting you down, bare feet touching wood. He undid the blindfold and stepped aside. “Ta da. Your very own private rooftop dinner.”

You looked at the nice table he’d set on his balcony, string lights around you, a bottle of wine sat on a small table nearby along with a few covered trays. He smiled in his khaki shorts and light blue dress shirt, a light flush to his cheeks.

“It’s perfect Jensen,” you said. You gave him a hug and kiss, Jensen showing you over to your seat, sliding it in for you. “You did all this in an hour?”

“Well I started planning it a few hours ago. I ordered the food while I set this up and you take very long showers thankfully,” he chuckled. You looked around as he uncorked the wine, Jensen pouring a few glasses for the two of you. “Too much?”

“No. It’s sweet and romantic but not over the top and…” you trailed off as he set the bottle down. “I just really, really, love you.”

“Me too,” he said, kissing your cheek. “Let’s eat while it’s hot. I have other things in store for this evening after all.”

“Y/N,” giggled Jensen two hours later. “Y/N, you’re gonna get us in trouble.”

“Making out in the backseat was your idea I recall,” you said, nipping at his kiss swollen lips.

“I meant more the you jerking me off thing,” he said as he panted up at you. You cocked your head and grinned. “Oh you are so dirty and I am here for it.”

“Please tell me you have a condom somewhere in this car. I’ve never had sex in a car before you know and I really want to tonight. Like really, really, want to,” you said, biting lightly at his neck.

“Glovebox,” he said. You crawled over to the front seat and dug around, finding a few in there.

“Mr. Ackles,” you grinned over the back of the seat, holding one up. “You are not the sweet boy next door you pretend to be, are you?”

“You’re one to talk,” he laughed, shoving his shorts down and rolling a condom on. You climbed back over the bench and straddled him, Jensen moaning softly as you sunk down. You rolled your hips slowly, Jensen thrusting up. “Fuck. We need to have car sex more often.”

“Yes we-” you said before you both heard the very distinctive bleep from a cop car. Your eyes went wide and you scrambled to get off of him, Jensen yanking his shorts up. You saw an officer walking up and you threw your legs over his lap while he fixed his shorts. A knock came at the window and you rolled it down, an officer giving you a hard face.

“Anything we can help you with officer?” asked Jensen. The officer narrowed his eyes and you quickly recognized them when he shook his head.

“Jensen, Jensen, Jensen,” he said, Jensen sighing in relief. “Got a report of two people making out in an Impala. I figured some kids must have stolen my good friend’s car since Jared’s is sitting at home. I did not think you of all people-”

“Shut up,” groaned Jensen.

“Are we in trouble?” you asked. He shook his head and you smiled.

“If you want to make out or do whatever that condom wrapper is on the floor there for, just do me a favor and drive out of town a few more miles. They don’t give a shit about that sort of thing ten minutes over.”

“Duly noted. Can we get back to our business?” asked Jensen. His friend pursed his lips and Jensen pouted. “Remember that time I pretended you were sleeping over so you could go have a sleepover with-”

“Dude. I’m fucking with ya. Have fun. I’ll keep an eye out for a few minutes but then you’re on your own,” he said. “Later Jenny, Y/N.”

“Dick,” said Jensen, smiling as you rolled up the windows. “Where were we?”

“I don’t know. Jenny,” you said, grinning before he pulled you down, your back hitting the seat.

“Oh now you’re asking for it,” he teased, undoing his shorts.

“I’m shaking in my boots at big bad Jenny,” you said, Jensen shoving his shorts down. “So scary.”

“Call me Jenny one more time,” he said, pushing up the bottom of your dress. “I dare ya.”

“Jenny,” you said with a smirk. He leaned down and pushed your underwear aside.

“Gonna regret that,” he growled in your ear. He slid inside of you in one smooth motion, bottoming out and pulling out fast. He slammed in hard and you flew your hand against the door, holding onto his shoulder.

“Fuck,” you breathed out as he pounded into you. He’d never been so rough before and you were all for it. “You can do better than that Jenny. I know you can.”

“You asked for it,” he said, snapping his hips. You squeezed your walls around him, Jensen working on giving you a hickey.

“Is that all you got?” you said, wrapping your legs around him. He growled against your skin and grabbed your wrists, pinning them together against the door.

He thrust hard and you strained against him, legs letting go. You shut your eyes and felt him slow down before stopping completely.

“Honey?” he asked. You forced your eyes open, Jensen’s hands on your face. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt something?”

“Bad memory,” you said. He went to sit back and you shook your head. “No. I was having fun until you pinned me like that. Please keep going?”

“Alright,” he said softly. “I won’t-“

“No. Do it.”

“Y/N no,” he said. You grabbed his hand and placed it over your wrists. “Y/N.”

“I trust you. I want good memories and I want to have rough sex and if you scare me I’ll say so. I promise,” you said. He nodded and leaned forward again. He pinned your wrists over your head once more and picked up the pace, quickly falling back into a harsh rhythm. “Come on Jenny. Give it to me.”

He growled and thrust hard into you at a breakneck pace, your legs wrapped around his torso once more.

“I said-“ you got out before a low deep pressure in your core exploded. You gasped and keened your head back, Jensen grunting straight into your ear before he finally stopped, breathing hard. You stared up and took short breaths, Jensen’s hands wrapping around your back and pulling you up into a kiss.

“I love you so much,” he murmured.

“I love you,” you said, resting your head on his shoulder. “Thank you. That was intense but good intense. I felt safe with you.”

“No one’s gonna hurt you ever again,” he said. You gave him a hug he returned, Jensen holding you close. “Was that okay?”

“It was great. I’d love to see this side of you again sometime,” you said, kissing his cheek. “I’m sorry for teasing you though.”

“The Jenny thing? Nah, just a nickname from school. It don’t bother me. Just there’s this rule see only certain people can call me that or else things aren’t gonna end well for them,” he said.

“Am I one of these people?”

“Oh hell no. Not unless you want more of what you just got.”

“I’ll have to remember that,” you said. You felt him grow soft and start slipping out of you, Jensen helping you off of him. He removed the condom with mostly no mess and you stretched out.

“Do you wanna go for a walk? Downtown?” he asked. You nodded and he climbed in the front seat, driving the car away from the park and on a side street that was busier. You ducked out of the backseat, rubbing your arms in the cooler night air.

Jensen walked around with his hoodie in his hands, handing it to you. You pulled it over your head and smiled, Jensen taking your hand, tossing the condom in a trash can you went past.

“You know, you make me feel like I’m some kid in love for the first time,” said Jensen. “But we both know that’s not true but for some reason, I haven’t felt much like a 43 year old lately.”

“My brain is stuck on like age twenty,” you said.

“Same,” he chuckled. “Your head always stays young somehow.”

“So what do you mean by that not feeling age comment then?”

“I feel like some teenage kid that just wants to run off with you on a whim but I can’t exactly do that.”

“Yeah you can. We’re doing it right now,” you said.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said.

“I know. But the kids are always a positive to me. Sure we can’t run off for a week at the drop of a hat but most people can’t either. I know what I signed up for. I have to share you and be second fiddle sometimes and I’m okay with that.”

“Why though?” he asked. “Don’t you want to be selfish sometimes, just have it be us?”

“Sure but I don’t need whole days. Waking up with you, falling asleep, quiet cups of coffee or impromptu lazy days and dates, a moment here and there is good enough. I don’t need you to tell me you love me all day everyday. I already know so the moments, those are more than good.”

“People aren’t really like that,” he said quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Not when they’re starting out in a relationship anyways.”

“Well I’ve only ever been in two serious relationships. One lasted a decade and went nowhere. The other one, maybe we don’t get everything two kids who are figuring it out for the first time do. But we get a lot of shit they don’t either. I don’t get bullshit. I don’t get games. It’s real and the fact you’re a father and have responsibilities and obligations that come before me doesn’t bother me. I love you and you make me a better person, a happier person. But I just don’t get the logic that I should want more when you can’t give it and I can’t take it.”

“Do you wish we could start from scratch though?” he asked. “Hypothetically.”

“Start from scratch when? You would have been thirty one when I was eighteen and I sure as hell wasn’t mature enough for an older guy back then. You wouldn’t be you and I wouldn’t be me, not these versions at least.”

“You don’t have it in you to be selfish and just say you wish things were different,” he said. You stopped at a corner and shook your head.

“Yeah, Jensen. If I had things my way, you would have zero idea I existed. You’d be with Dee on this date right now and not me,” you said. He crossed his arms and grabbed yours, turning you down the block again as you walked. “Jensen…we were having a nice night. I don’t want to fight.”

He stopped and walked your back against a brick wall, planting a fast kiss on you.

“Stop saying shit like that,” he breathed out when he pulled back.

“Shit like what?”

“Shit like you’re less important to me. What, cause I knew her longer I’m supposed to love her more? Cause we have kids she’s always more important and you’re the rebound? I hate when you say shit like that.”

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, Jensen planting his hands on either side of you.

“I don’t know how to make you not think that. Because I know how I feel and it has ripped me apart thinking how wrong it was for me to care about you like I do. To love you as much as I do. Because it’s not less. It’s not more. It’s just different but the same and I need you to tell me how to make you believe me. Just tell me and I’ll do it.”

“You’re crying,” you said, wiping off his face. He straightened up and sighed, letting you wipe him off with the sleeves of his hoodie. You grabbed his hand and pulled him around the corner to the entrance of an alley, Jensen glancing down it.

“It’s not safe,” he said before you put a hand over his mouth.

“I did not say that to upset you and I don’t think what I said came out right. I know I’m not a rebound. All I was trying to say is if I could have stopped you from hurting so badly, stop the kids, stop everyone, from going through that pain, I would have. I’d let you go for that.”

“You don’t know how fucked up I was before you,” he said. He glanced at the street and sighed. “Y/N I act. I’m damn good at it. I can play the bad guy, the fucking cocky bastard, the hero. I can play any character that gets thrown at me. I can pretend to my friends and my family that six months after she was gone I was better. So I fucking pretended and pretended and every single moment was focused on those three kids and nothing else. Nothing mattered to me. I didn’t matter to me. But I needed to work again and I needed help and you walked through the front door and it fell apart. You’re one of the best things to ever happen to me.”

“Jensen…” you said, pulling him into a hug. You saw a sketchy guy cut through the alley, rushing over. “Fuck off! We’re having a fucking moment!”

The guy froze and stared at you, heading back the other direction.

“Did you just scream at a mugger?” asked Jensen, staring back into the alley as you tugged him back out into the light.

“Maybe. I don’t know. I...have you ever been to a therapist? Honestly?” you asked.

“No. I lied about that,” he said as he looked down. “I told my family that and they bought it.”

“Come on,” you said, taking his hand and turning around. “I want to take you somewhere.”

“Where?” he asked.

“Somewhere you can talk,” you said. “I promise.”

One Hour Later

“Y/N,” said Dr. Moseley. You scrambled from hanging your feet over the back of the couch and righted yourself, Jensen chuckling as he stepped out from the office into the lobby area. “Been doing that since she was a kid. Some habits die hard.”

“I think that’s just how she enjoys watching TV,” said Jensen while you hit the button on the remote. You stood up and Jensen looked a whole lot red eyed but lighter too. “I feel better. A lot better.”

“Y/N, your turn,” said Dr. Moseley and you stared. “You gonna call my office and ask for an emergency session for your fiance I’m not letting you slip out of here without a quick tag up.”

“Ugh,” you groaned. “I’m hungry.”

“Ten minutes tops,” said Dr. Moseley to Jensen. You padded into the familiar office, the door closing behind you. “So. How have things been?”

“I don’t know. Is my fiance alright?” you asked.

“Yeah. I don’t even peg him as a repeat customer. He does need to work on bottling things up though. I know you have some good tips for that,” he said as you nodded. “You look good. Things are more stable it sounds like.”

“Yeah. I dumped the loser. Sold a children’s book,” you said.

“Ah you loved drawing I remember. That’s all we did our first session together,” he said.

“You didn’t tell him, did you.”

“You didn’t tell him either,” he said. “I thought I’d never hear from you again.”

“You did say if I was ever in trouble,” you said, looking back at the door. “He’s okay?”

“Yeah. He’s getting close to the year anniversary of the death. It can be triggering to some. But I think with you he’ll be just fine,” he said.

“Thanks Ray,” you said, spotting the picture on the shelf behind him. “Shit, Georgie got big.”

“Well you haven’t seen him in nine years and he was ten last time you saw him,” he chuckled, pulling out his phone and showing you a few pictures. “Taylor had her twentieth birthday last week.”

“My soon to be step daughter’s is next week,” you said with a smile.

“Shit you all grew up fast. That’s what I get for adopting,” he chuckled to himself, taking a seat on the couch beside you. “Thanks for calling tonight.”

“I knew you’d help him,” you said.

“Sounds like he helps you too,” he said.

“He’s alright,” you said with a shrug.

“He’s a little old for you.”

“Mom was a little old for you,” you said, Ray smiling. “How’s Sarah?”

“Good. She asks about you every so often,” he said. “Asks if we made up yet.”

“We never fought,” you said. You looked down, Ray tucking a hair behind your ear.

“You stopped smiling when your mom got her diagnosis,” he said. “No matter what I did, I couldn’t get a smile back on that face.”

“Ray it wasn’t you,” you said.

“The way you lit up when you saw him walk out of this room...I don’t know how you got that spark back but I’m glad you found it,” he said.

“He has a lot to do with that,” you said. “The kids do.”

“I wasn’t in a great place myself when I met you,” he said. “God I did not realize-”

“When that snarky eight year old walked in you’d end up with her mom?” you asked.

“It was highly inappropriate,” he said.

“So is ending up with the dad you were nannying for,” you said.

“Mom would like him. He’s kind. Got a lot of love in there,” he said. “He said that thing she used to say to me.”

“I may have told him about the you can have more than one person thing.”

“She’d like him,” he said.

“Do you?”

“Yeah. I’d prefer you not end up with you know, a celebrity. But if you’re gonna be with one, be with that one. He stays out of trouble,” he said.

“Uh, how would you know that?” you asked.

“Sarah’s something of a...fan of his old show. When she saw you in the background of his instagram photo, I did a little digging.”

“Ray.”

“I care about you. Sue me,” he said. You turned and looked out the dark window. “It was good seeing you again.”

“You know you didn’t do anything wrong right?” you said.

“I know. You had to go and find your own way. I understand it. It doesn’t mean you can’t ever come back,” he said. “If you want that is.”

“Ray I’m not looking for a father,” you said.

“You don’t have to look at all,” he said.

“If you wanted in my life so badly you could have adopted me. You could have married mom. But you didn’t and less than two years later-”

“Your mother did not want to marry again and I didn’t adopt you to because you didn’t want me to.”

“Of course I wanted you to. You don’t need a fucking PhD to figure that one out.”

“No you didn’t. You told me yourself.”

“I was a pissed off, upset, hormonal teenager, Ray. I wanted the exact opposite of that. I wanted to know you loved me just as much as you did her and maybe you did but it left a mark and I left. You moved on and I moved on. Let’s be happy and forget about the rest, alright?”

“Alright,” he said as you stood. “If you ever-”

“I know. I can call you,” you said. He nodded and you went to the door, leaning your head back. “Maybe you guys can come over for swimming or something sometime.”

“You just said you moved on.”

“I moved on from being pissed off at you a long time ago. I have lived with a man that lost the love of his life for six months. Losing mom fucked you up just as bad and I was too young to understand that back then. But maybe we can do dinners every once in a while again, you know?”

“I’d like that,” he said.

“I’ll call sometime when things are a little slower for us.”

“Okay,” he said with a smile He got up and you paused, getting a hug from him. “He’ll be alright, needed to let it out, hear you’re not going anywhere is all.”

“Were you ever afraid of losing Sarah?” you asked. “You’ve been in his position before is why I ask.”

“People are different but yeah, when someone gets inside like that after you’ve suffered losing that before, it’s frightening. It can be debilitating. It can ruin things.”

“But you and Sarah got married and are still together.”

“Be gentle with him when he’s afraid. Comfort him but don’t coddle him. His fears will become manageable and quiet. He has fallen unconditionally in love with you knowing how much pain happens when it gets taken away. Part of him says run away and save yourself from it happening again. Part of him says she’s worth every second of that pain. It’s how I was. Just treat him normally and he’ll learn to live with it.”

“It doesn’t go away?”

“Has he ever been late coming home? Fender bender?”

“He got bit by a scorpion recently,” you said.

“Did you freak out?”

“On the inside,” you said as he smiled. “So that’s the cost.”

“The good times are worth the bad ones,” he said. “Go take him around the corner to Mort’s. They’re open until midnight in the summer.”

“Do they still do the peach cobbler sundae?” you asked.

“Oh yeah,” he said.

“Do you want to…” you trailed off.

“It’s late but I appreciate the offer. Another time for sure though. I have a soccer game to get ready for in the morning,” he said with a sigh. “I am so not coaching next year. I should have quit when Taylor graduated.”

“Yeah you will,” you said. “You were even my coach back in the day.”

“I still can’t kick the ball yet for some reason they want me to be head coach,” he chuckled as he opened the door. Jensen had his nose in the bookshelf, turning around with a curious look. “Y/N’s going to take you out for ice cream. Doctor’s orders.”

“Is this...Y/N?” asked Jensen, pointing at a photograph. Ray walked over and smiled as he picked it up.

“She was about ten years old in that picture,” he said, showing it to you.

“I remember that day. You puked on the ferris wheel,” you said.

“I don’t do rides well,” he said, putting it back.

“Wait I thought you were her therapist for all the crap that happened as a kid,” said Jensen, glancing at you.

“I was. Y/N’s mother felt after the adoption it’d be good for her, for them both, to have Y/N see someone,” said Ray.

“Oh. That’s nice you do like a fun day for your patients,” said Jensen. You rolled your eyes as Ray chuckled.

“Jensen. This is Dr. Moseley. Dr. Ray Moseley. My mom’s old boyfriend,” you said. Jensen looked at Ray and smiled.

“It’s nice to meet you,” said Jensen. “I’ve heard good things.”

“Well that’s always good,” said Ray. “I’ll see you two around sometime.”

“We would like that,” you said, taking Jensen’s hand. “Let’s let Ray head home. He’s got an early morning.”

“It was nice meeting you Jensen. Call anytime you need to, day or night,” said Ray.

“Thanks,” said Jensen. A few minutes later you were back on the street and walking down the block, Ray driving off in his car. “So the therapist you know from when you were a kid is Ray?”

“Yeah. It’s how they met. My mom wanted me to deal with the stuff my dad did. Ray helped me process and be a pretty normal kid again. He and mom hit it off. He was done for the first day they met he said. They got together after I finished up my sessions. When you started talking like that earlier and said you never spoke to anyone, I knew Ray could help.”

“Thanks,” he said quietly, letting you lead him towards an ice cream shop. You sent him over to a table out front while you ordered, returning after a moment with a sundae in a dish and two spoons. “I’m sorry, for lying about seeing a therapist.”

“Why did you?” you asked, taking a seat and handing him a spoon.

“It’s what I told everyone. People don’t worry so much,” he said with a shrug. “I...I’m normally the one that other people can come to for help. I’m not so good at asking for it. I got tired of everyone constantly asking me are you okay? Let me do this for you. Let me do that. I got it, you go rest. I wanted everyone to leave me alone and treat me normally again. Lying took care of that mostly.”

“Please don’t lie to me ever again,” you said. He nodded and you cocked your head. “You don’t have to talk to me but if you feel like you’re bottling stuff up to that extreme again, talk to someone. Please.”

“I will. I’m sorry for acting how I did earlier. All you were trying to say was you’d stop me from being hurt if you could and I twisted it.”

“Sounds like you untwisted it.”

“Ray was good to talk to. An objective third party telling you stuff puts it in perspective.” He picked at the sundae and smiled when he took a bite, going back for a bigger piece. “What’d you two talk about in there?”

“You. Me,” you said, getting a scoop of whip cream. “I told him maybe they could come over for a swim and dinner sometime.”

“He still loves you you know.”

“Yeah,” you said with a nod. “When things calm down, maybe…”

“Do you still love him?” You nodded and scraped away at piece of ice cream that was threatening to fall off the edge of the dish. “Do you think he’ll hurt you?”

“He had the opportunity after my mom died to adopt me. But he didn’t. It hurt that he didn’t. I got it in my head that he only cared about me for her and it wasn’t right but it’s what I felt back then.”

“How do you feel now?”

“I understand he was in pain and I was a brat that took all of mine out on him. I wish he had fought me harder on staying in a way. Let me know he did care.”

“Y/N honey,” said Jensen, leaning forward in his seat. “He has a picture of you in his office. I think you asked for your space and he let you have it. I think that was his attempt at saying he cared back then.”

“Which is why maybe...he can come back into my life,” you said.

“Whatever you decide, I’ll support it,” he said. “It’s not a simple decision.”

“No, I know he never stopped caring but he was the adult and I was the kid back then. I needed him to say stay.”

“Well, I know somebody who wants you to stay. Actually he’s not letting you go ever,” he said.

“Oh really?” you said, Jensen smirking. “Never ever?”

“Nope. You’re stuck with him for eternity. Sorry in advance for any future freak out sessions,” he chuckled.

“You were scared and a guy like you, I know you hate being scared. Freak out everyday and it still wouldn’t bother me,” you said.

“You’re similar though.”

“True but it works. I take care of you, you take care of me, we eat ice cream and make out in the back of your car and it sounds pretty good to me.”

“I like the way you think.”

Ten minutes later you were walking through downtown, Jensen’s hand holding yours loosely. You walked past a young couple, one of them carrying a sleeping toddler.

“You’d make a really cute baby,” he said. You looked over at him and smiled. “Not you you. I mean-”

“I know what you meant. How do you know if you’re ready?” you asked.

“You don’t. Not really. You can prep but you’re never really ready. I always thought you know, when you’re stable, mature enough, when you want it, then you’re ready.”

“I don’t think I’m ready to take care of an infant.”

“Haven’t you been a nanny to babies before though?”

“Yeah. But...the trying to raise a good person thing. A happy, good, kind person. I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

“Says the woman who knows when a little boy is crying because of a tantrum and when he’s crying because something is wrong.”

“That’s different.”

“You’ve been doing it for months. I trust you with them completely, to make any kind of decision for them. They’re your kids too now.” You slowed your pace and he matched it, squeezing your hand. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Hearing you say that is nice is all.”

“Believe me. I don’t think anyone in the world could possibly love you more than I do but if anyone does, it’s those three kids,” he said. “They ask about Dee more again and it’s all smiles. They ask about you a whole lot. For some reason they’re convinced we went to school together and that’s where we met.”

“I’m gonna check that under you look good and not I look old,” you laughed.

“No, no you don’t. You’re the one getting carded still, not me,” he said.

“Remember that waitress that kept flirting with you at that restaurant in Toronto? That was fucking hilarious.”

“You thought it was hilarious. I was dying showing her my drivers license and showing her the math of how you physically could not be my daughter.”

“Boys hit puberty at thirteen though,” you said, Jensen shaking his head. “Oh come on. Don’t tell me a guy like you hit it in highschool.”

“I was about five four my first year. You so could have kicked my little shrimpy ass. It was super awesome when all your buddies are like, growing a foot in a month and getting muscle and starting to shave and I’m like, the hobbit.”

You laughed and he bumped your shoulder.

“I really wanted to play football in school but I was always way too small. It’s why I wound up in baseball. Plus I think my mom liked it cause it was safer.”

“Eh, but some of those guys peak in high school. You haven’t hit yours yet.”

“You talking looks or like life?”

“Both. I mean when the new season of The Boys comes out you’re gonna get exposed to a huge audience. You’re gonna get to act in like, oscar movie shit and stuff,” you said. He shrugged and you bumped him back. “You’re gonna do amazing.”

“I don’t care about being in that kind of movie really though. I want to do fun things, things that interest me. I’m very happy if my biggest role is Dean Winchester.”

“Well, Dean gave you the opportunity to play Soldier Boy and he’s gonna give you more choices. Dean’s probably what you’ll be known for but you have some more power now cause of that. Maybe even more power with Dean someday. Just do stuff that you want to from now. As long as it makes you happy at the end of the day, I’m all for it.”

“I’m gonna promise you right here and now I won’t ever be away for months on end. I was gone so much before. I like being home. I’m not going away for nine months of the year ever again.”

“It’ll work,” you said. “I bet you could get your own little show in town like Jared if you wanted.”

“I will take the role of dad and future husband for now,” he said.

“That’s a good role when you think about it.”

“Very good,” he said, leaning over to kiss your cheek. “What time is it?”

“About ten thirty,” you said. “Getting tired?”

“Band’s playing at a bar downtown, that one we heard that night you said I was your best friend.”

“Of course that is what you remember from that night,” you said, leaning against him. “They’re really in Austin?”

“Yup. You wanna go?”

“I’d love to.”

One Week Later

“Are we there yet?” groaned JJ from the backseat as Jensen drove through a suburb.

“We will be there in ten seconds,” he said, turning down another street before pulling into a driveway. “Go on and harass your grandparents.”

She unbuckled herself in the backseat and opened the door, dashing off and up to the house.

“What about you two? Ready to see grandma and grandpa?”

“I need to go to the bathroom,” said Arrow, kicking in her car seat. Jensen shook his head as you climbed out, undoing Zeppelin and watching him run across the grass up to the front door that was now open.

“Let Arrow go first buddy!” said Jensen as Arrow ran around the car and into the house. “The kid hasn’t had a drink all morning yet she pisses like a race horse I swear.”

“She did knock back about three juice boxes on the way here,” you laughed.

“Gotta cut that kid off at two,” he chuckled, going to the back of the truck. He pulled out his suitcase and the kids while you grabbed your own and the bag with JJ’s birthday presents. “It’s been a while since I’ve been here. Probably a year.”

“You okay?” you asked.

“Yeah. I’m good,” he said. You followed him up to the house, setting the presents bag down by the door, carrying the suitcases upstairs. “You can put the kids stuff in here. This was my sister’s room.”

“It’s huge,” you said, spotting the bunks up against the wall. “That’s really nice with the full size beds.”

“My parents re did it once there were grandkids and stuff for the holidays. We can stay in my old room,” he said, showing you across the hall. It was smaller and a bit plain but you did notice the cowboy blanket on the bed. He quickly grabbed it and bundled it up, opening a closet door and shoving it inside.

“Yours?” you asked, reaching out for it. He nodded and hesitated a moment before letting you have it. “Is this from when you were little?”

“Yeah,” he said as you saw how the color had faded away in some spots.

“Do you like to leave it here? We could bring it home if you want,” you said.

“I’m 43.”

“And…” you said, folding it and handing it back to him.

“I wouldn’t exactly say this goes with the master bedroom decor, would you?”

“Alright,” you said. “Seems special is all.”

He left it out on the bed as you looked out a window to the backyard, a few people out there along with the kids.

“Those your parents?” you asked.

“Yeah. That’s my-” he said before he let out a whoof. You turned and saw him tackled on the bed by a man and woman, both of them chuckling. “Guys, come on.”

“Relax, we’re just having fun, Jens,” said the man as he straightened up and Jensen sat up. “Hi. You must be the girlfriend.”

“Yeah. I’m Y/N,” you said, holding out a hand. You were surprised when the man and woman looked at each other and then gave you a hug. You returned it briefly, both of them chuckling while Jensen groaned on bed.

“We know all about you. Josh. Mack. Obviously you know doofus over there,” said Josh.

“Guys,” groaned Jensen.

“Calm yourself,” said his sister. “We’re saying hi to our future sister in law is all.”

“I hate this,” said Jensen, laying back and throwing a pillow over his face.

“He’s never been good with the whole introducing his girl to the family thing. Ain’t that right, Jenny?” asked Josh. Jensen sighed under the pillow and he rolled his eyes. “Well, you can lay there. We’re stealing her.”

“What?” said Jensen as Mackenzie pushed you out of the room. Josh whistled as he ducked out and pulled the door shut, holding it in place.

“Josh let me out!” said Jensen. “It wasn’t funny when I was five and it’s not funny now!”

“Believe me, it’s always been funny,” said Mackenzie to you, nodding at Josh as he pulled a headband around the handle and then over to a curtain rod at the window next to the wall.

“Joshua! I’ll call mom!” said Jensen through the door.

“We need five minutes alone with Y/N. I’ll let you out when we’re done,” said Josh. He stepped into the room next door, Mackenzie pushing you inside.

“Uh, what is this?” you asked, taking a seat on the bed. They looked at one another and shut the door. You swallowed but saw them both smile.

“Thank you,” she said, Josh nodding. “Jensen’s had a hard year and last time we saw him at Christmas-”

“He wasn’t doing so hot. He can act his ass off but he can’t pretend to us,” said Josh.

“He sounds...he’s always so excited to talk about you on the phone, even if we don’t know that many details. He’s always been a little vague but we know you’re the reason he’s doing so well.”

“So don’t worry about the nanny stuff or being the new fiance or whatever you’re worried about. We don’t get to see our brother that much but we like hearing him like his old self again,” said Josh.

“You guys really don’t have a problem with me?” you asked. “Like seriously?”

“You’re not like, crazy right?” asked Mackenzie. You shook your head. “So then seriously we don’t have a problem with you.”

“Thanks,” you said quietly. You tucked your hair behind your ear and took a deep breath. “I know I’m...not her. And I’m younger and I was the nanny and it’s really easy to assume things about me...I don’t want anything to come between him and his family and especially not have that be me. I know all of you took care of him and I want him to feel comfortable again, not get stressed out at seeing you guys.”

“He didn’t want to see us?” asked Mackenzie.

“He does. It’s a feeling I get from him is all. He loves me and I know he wants…me getting along with you guys is important to him,” you said.

“You can be part of this family too,” said Josh. “Really. We know it’ll never go back to how it was but we can have something just as good.”

“We do have one question though,” said Mackenzie. You smiled and nodded as she sat next to you. “Why do you like him? We think he’s horrendous but we get that people find him attractive.”

“He’s handsome but he makes me the happiest I think I’ve ever been in my life. Mine’s kind of been a cluster and he’s a good best friend to have. I just like him I suppose,” you said.

“Do you prank him?” she asked.

“Oh yeah,” you laughed, the two of them smirking.

“Yeah you’re cool with us,” said his brother. “Come on, let’s let the dork out before he calls mom on us.”

He stepped outside and Jensen huffed when Josh let him out.

“What did-” he said before you stepped over to Jensen. “Did they-”

“We had a little talk is all. They love you and so do I so there’s absolutely nothing to worry about besides the fact you can’t escape your childhood bedroom. We may need to consider getting a dog if that keeps up,” you said.

“Well...good,” said Jensen, crossing his arms. “And I’ll have you know, that headband has elastic in it.”

“The arms are for show,” whispered Mackenzie.

“You’re due for a noogie,” said Jensen, skirting past you and chasing her down the hall.

“You got any siblings?” asked Josh to you as Jensen tackled his sister into a bedroom. You shook your head and he smiled. “Well, this is about how it goes around here.”

“How often does she win? Having two older brothers and all.”

“More often than you’d think. Our brother in law is at work still but he’s always a wild card on if he’ll help us torture or not.”

“Ah so you’re all grown children, not just Jensen.”

“Pretty much,” he said, Jensen laying back in the hall. “Ready to go see mom and dad?”

“Not really,” mumbled Jensen.

“Time to face the music,” said Josh, pushing you down the hall and stepping over Jensen. He popped up to his feet and you headed downstairs.

“Hold up,” said Jensen.

“Tell him to calm down,” said Josh in your ear. You nodded and his siblings headed outside as an older woman came in.

“Hey mom,” said Jensen, getting a large hug from her when she spotted you both in the kitchen.

“You look so good! You got some weight back,” she said, Jensen sighing. “You were too skinny and you know it. You eating enough again?”

“Yes ma,” he said, shaking his head. He reached out a hand and you let him take it, his mother giving you a friendly enough smile. “This is Y/N, my fiance.”

“Fiance?” she said, looking you up and down. Something about it felt off though and you forced a happy look on your face. “The kids didn’t mention that.”

“It’s a recent development,” said Jensen as he squeezed your hand. “I know it seems a little fast probably but we’ve been together nearly six months.”

“Oh. So you got together not long after the holidays,” she said, a smile on her face but you both saw through it.

“Yeah,” said Jensen, his father coming in the back door with a water bottle. “Dad this is Y/N.”

“They’re engaged, Alan,” she said. “Isn’t that nice?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Donna you mind coming with me to pick up the food order?”

“We can get it,” you said, both of them staring at you. “We know it’s been awhile since you’ve seen the kids.”

“We’ll get it,” he said, voice not necessarily harsh but there was a firmness there you weren’t expecting. They skirted past the two of you and out the front door, Jensen watching it close.

“Why don’t you introduce me to the rest of the family?” you said.

“Sure,” he said quietly. “Right this way.”

________

A/N: Read Part 12 here!

#spnkinkbingo #supernatural #spn #jensen ackles #jensen ackles au #jensen x reader #jensen series #rpf #rpf series #jensen ackles x reader #spn fanfic #jensen ackles fanfic #supernatural fanfic

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heyiwrotesomethings · 3 years

Text

It’s Been Too Long

Shinobu Kochou x She/Her Reader

A/N: Alright Shinobu Community, take a fuckin’ sip babes. It’s kind of a long one. My brain was like, friends to enemies to friends to lovers? To which I replied, this is going to be simultaneously too long and too short. I love me some slow burn but also I can’t justify putting that much time into something like this lol. While writing this I learned that one becomes a Hashira by killing a demon moon OR killing at least fifty demons. I didn't know that before, but I was in too deep to fix things. Y’all are a Kinoe rank that probably should be a Hashira given how much slaying you’ve done, sorry! As far as warnings go, I think we’re good. Unless fighting and misunderstandings aren’t your thing. It’ll all be better in the end though! Word Count: 15,088

The estate was dark and bleak. It had rained for nearly a week straight, the patter of water against the solid structure of the tiled roof was a near constant companion to the blank static of despair that clouded everyone’s minds.

Kochou Kanae had died of lethal injuries bequeathed to her by a high ranking demon who had left her to bleed out as the sun made its appearance. Perhaps if it had risen even just a few minutes prior, she could have evaded such a cruel fate.

Shinobu had found her of course, the world is just that cruel, or perhaps kind in giving her sister that closure, to be able to see her one last time before she took her last gurgling breath.

It was appropriate, the rain. After the funeral it was a temporary reminder of the warmth that had been reaped from the estate, never to be felt again in this lifetime. Not that (Y/n), Kanao, Aoi, or the youngest residents of the estate needed a reminder. Shinobu certainly didn’t either.

“Shinobu, you didn’t come to dinner. Please try to eat something.” (Y/n) coaxed, sliding the door open. The only light came from a small lantern inside the swirling gloom of the room, highlighting Shinobu hunched over her desk with her head in her hands. “Shinobu?”

“It’s only been a week.” (Y/n) strained to hear the taut whisper of the girl who had grown to be her closest friend. The girl who had given her a second chance at life when she had nowhere else to go. It hurt to hear her sound so broken. “It feels like time is standing still and going too fast at the same time.”

(Y/n) set the light meal in front of Shinobu and leaned against the desk, the wood creaked slightly as she did so. “I know what you mean. I feel the same.”

It wasn’t the first time they’ve talked like this. To be survivors of such unthinkable atrocities, one could go crazy keeping it all locked inside. The guilt, fear, helplessness... sometimes the memories played on loop night after night, waking up to the screams in their minds making sick harmonies with their own.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” Shinobu spoke tentatively after a moment of drizzling static tapping against the roof. She raised herself just enough to wrestle a paper out from under her arms and slid it to (Y/n). “Oyakata-sama has sent me a summons to meet with him and the Hashira. He intends for me to take,” Shinobu’s voice grew tighter and she could not bring herself to finish, instead a painful sounding intake of air was all that was audible.

(Y/n) took the paper, holding it close to her face as she squinted, the dull light of the lantern made the letter a bit difficult to read, but the message was clear.

“He wants you to take her place.” (Y/n) frowned, a pained gleam pricked at the corners of her eyes.

“It’s been too long, but yet, not long enough,” Shinobu’s fists tightened, “I know the world hasn’t stopped spinning, demons haven’t stopped killing, but why do they want to replace her so quickly? Why are they willing to toss her aside? I don’t...”

“Shinobu,”

Shinobu finally looked up at (Y/n), angry and mournful tears tracked down her face, “I’m not my sister, I’m not Hashira material. I can’t fill the hole she left, (Y/n)!”

(Y/n) abandoned her perch on the desk to crouch beside Shinobu, enveloping her in her arms. Shinobu tightly grasped her back, watery gasps and sharp inhales fell from her lips as she tried to gain control of her breathing once more.

“Oyakata-sama knows you aren’t Kanae. You’re strong in your own right, Shinobu. He wouldn’t breach the subject if he didn’t think you could succeed by your own merits.”

“I have to keep the estate in order, the infirmary, the girls... I can’t take all this responsibility—“

“You don’t have to,” (Y/n) cut her off, the words came a bit sharper than she meant them too, “you’re not alone Shinobu. We can all have our own parts to play. You don’t have to shoulder this all by yourself.”

“Thank you.” Shinobu’s voice cracked.

They had stayed up well into the night. They hardly talked, the two young girls sat huddled together, holding each other tightly. No matter how much they’ve been hurt, time continues moving forward. Just because a boat has been shredded against a reef, that doesn’t mean the waves will grant reprieve from their assault. No, one is expected to keep swimming or to swallow the salty brine and drown. The Butterfly Estate’s allotted time for grief had passed. Now they were being given the not so subtle command that it was time to get back to work.

***

“I wish you could come with me.” Shinobu said the next morning as she sat on the engawa to put on her shoes. “Even if they made you wait outside I would feel a bit better.”

“You’ll be okay, we’ll be thinking about you all day and waiting for you to come back home.” (Y/n) assured, resting her hand on Shinobu’s back. She was almost afraid to touch the haori Shinobu now adorned, as if her hand would pass right through the material.

(Y/n) was surprised when she saw Shinobu wearing it instead of her usual short white haori, though she supposed there was comfort in holding this piece of her sister close. Perhaps the butterfly patterned haori could comfort Shinobu where (Y/n) and the others could not.

(Y/n) must have been staring too long because Shinobu leaned away from her hand, catching it with her own before (Y/n) could withdraw it completely. Shinobu squeezed the hand a moment, (Y/n) swore her heart froze upon seeing the ghostly smile painted over Shinobu’s lips.

“You’re right. No point in fretting over it, is there?”

“...Right,” (Y/n) blinked, “yeah. You’re going to do great.” (Y/n) managed a smile in return but she could feel the corner of her lips tremble at the effort. She wasn’t sure why, but this smile Shinobu was sporting sent chills down her spine.

“I’ll be off then,” Shinobu stood, releasing (Y/n)’s hand as she stepped away from the engawa, “Do make sure to keep everything in order while I’m away.”

“Of course!” (Y/n) winced at her own volume and Shinobu exhaled a quiet chuckle before turning away to make her way down the path. (Y/n) watched until the haunting haori could no longer be seen between the wisteria trees.

***

It was rather late when Shinobu returned. (Y/n) had just helped the youngest girls of the estate get ready for bed and was heading to the kitchens to prepare some tea to help her sleep. She had jumped in her skin when she saw the back of the butterfly patterned haori in the dim lantern light. Shinobu turned at the sound and sent a small, tired smile (Y/n)’s way.

“I thought I’d catch you here before you turned in for the night.” Shinobu spoke. “You almost always take a cup of tea to bed. I hope you don’t mind having some of what I’ve already prepared.”

It wasn’t the first time Shinobu caught her going to the kitchen to make tea. Though usually it was much later in the dead of night when nightmares and grief kept sleep at bay. (Y/n) wasn’t sure what kind of leaves or brewing Shinobu did, but her tea always managed to knock (Y/n) out cold into deep, dreamless bliss. Something about the way Shinobu was speaking was rubbing (Y/n) the wrong way however. There was none of the familiar attitude. The bashful bitterness that came with the sweetness of the tea. (Y/n) decided to shake it off and returned Shinobu’s tired smile. It would take time for things to seem normal again.

“You know me too well. Thank you.” (Y/n) graciously took the cup, relishing in the cup’s warmth and the relaxing scent that wafted off of the steam. “How did today go?”

“It was... fine.” Shinobu’s smile faltered and she quickly disguised it by sipping her own tea. “I’m officially a Hashira. Insect Pillar Kochou Shinobu.”

“It has a nice ring to it.” (Y/n) put in after a moment’s consideration hidden behind the guise of her clearing her throat. She didn’t know if a ‘congratulations’ would be what Shinobu would want to hear give the circumstances that led up to her new title.

“And how was holding down the fort?” Shinobu asked. It seemed she wanted to shift the topic of conversation away from herself. Not that (Y/n) could blame her.

“Everything went smoothly. Well, Aoi did get a bit aggravated with Kanao about one of her coin decisions but we worked it out. Sumi, Kiyo and Naho are picking up the recovery training lessons quickly and are doing very well. The Kakushi have been taking great care of the infirmary. All patients were still stable last I checked in.” (Y/n) reported.

“Thank you for keeping up with all of that.”

“I have to pull my weight around here somehow.” (Y/n) replied, hiding a yawn behind one hand.

“It’s getting late. You should get to bed before the tea kicks in any further.” Shinobu said, putting her own cup down.

“Aren’t you getting tired too?”

“I made myself a different brew, actually. I’ve got more work to do.” Shinobu allowed herself a little sly smile at the tiny frown (Y/n) wore as she looked into her own empty cup as if it had betrayed her somehow.

“Well, don’t forget you need to sleep too. Don’t overwork yourself.”

“Goodnight, (Y/n).” Shinobu called over her shoulder. She was already walking out of the kitchen.

“I mean it Shinobu. Promise me you’ll sleep tonight.” (Y/n) gently demanded, slipping into the hall to fall in step beside Shinobu.

“I’ll promise to try. Is that acceptable?” Shinobu asked, a bit of familiar snark came through and it made (Y/n) relax a bit and nod.

“Alright. Goodnight, Shinobu.”

At the end of the hall they broke off in different directions. Shinobu to the lab and (Y/n) to her room.

***

(Y/n) went through most of her morning routine before going out of her way to find the newly appointed Hashira. She hadn’t seen her since they parted last night. (Y/n) groaned inwardly, already assuming she’d find the young scientist still balancing equations and mixing beakers.

(Y/n) adjusted her butterfly hairpin before knocking her knuckles against the door, waiting for a reply.

“Shinobu?” (Y/n) had called out after another knock led to no reply. (Y/n) frowned and slid the door open of her own volition, closing it behind her once she was inside. It didn’t take long for her to find the exhausted girl hunched over an array of papers, dead asleep.

“When I told you to go to sleep last night, I had your own bed in mind, not a desk.” (Y/n) sighed quietly.

(Y/n) startled at another knock at the door.

“Who is it?” She asked, keeping her voice soft as to not disturb Shinobu.

“It’s Hayato, miss.” The muffled voice called. Ah, one of the Kakushi. “Kochou-sama has guests to attend to.”

“Set them up in the garden with tea, please. Kochou-sama will meet them just as soon as she finishes these papers.” (Y/n) said. It would not do to have news of the young master of the estate sleeping so late in the morning, and at her desk no less.

The Kakushi dismissed himself to carry out his orders and (Y/n)’ shoulders relaxed as his footprints faded down the hall. (Y/n) didn’t want to wake Shinobu, but if her presence was required, then the meeting must be important.

“Hey, Shinobu,” (Y/n) called softly, gently shaking Shinobu’s shoulders, “you have guests that need to see you.”

Shinobu managed to curl further into herself, mumbling a few curses under her breath that (Y/n) couldn’t help but giggle at.

“Maybe you’d feel better if you had actually gone to bed instead of passing out like this.”

“Who is it, what do they need?” Shinobu grumped, sitting up to stretch her abused spine.

“I’m not sure. A Kakushi came by to tell you about them. I asked him to set them up in the garden with tea.”

“Thank you for taking care of that,” Shinobu rubbed her eyes and stood, her chair scratching against the floor, “I should get going then.”

“Let me fix your hair quick at least.” (Y/n) said, already freeing Shinobu of her own butterfly clip. “Hold still.”

“It’s a little hard when you keep tugging your fingers through my hair.” Shinobu winced.

“Sorry, just a second.” (Y/n) spoke around the butterfly wing that she held between her lips as her fingers worked to gather Shinobu’s hair. Once Shinobu’s hair was neatly clipped back into place, (Y/n) circled her and smoothed out the wrinkles in Shinobu’s clothes the best she could before finally backing away with a satisfied nod.

“Are you done yet?” Shinobu asked, a faint dusting of blush powdered her cheeks.

“Yeah, you still look tired, but at least you look a little more presentable.” (Y/n) said, opening the lab door and ushering Shinobu through it.

“Presentable.” Shinobu scoffed. “Come with me to the garden?”

“I don’t know if that would be appropriate. I’m not sure who is visiting.”

“Just make yourself busy in the blooms. You live here, you can go where you please.”

“Okay, I’ll come.”

The young girls made their way outside, it was warm and sunny, a bit humid as well after all the rain the week before. The sweet smell of the flowers invited deeper breaths to swallow up the scent into every bronchiole of their lungs.

(Y/n) broke off from Shinobu with a little wave, giving a respectful acknowledgment to the people waiting with their tea before busying herself with the flora. Checking on the quality of the plants as Kanae had taught her. The memories spent with the older girl who had taught her so much made (Y/n) shiver despite the warmth of the sun beating down.

(Y/n) would on occasion, discreetly observe the progression of the meeting. The smile Shinobu wore as she spoke to the visitors unnerved her. Even just the way Shinobu was holding herself now, prim and proper, (Y/n) wondered what they could possibly be talking about.

Then the familiar cawing of a crow circling over her head broke (Y/n) from her thoughts. She released her gentle grip over the flower she had stopped to smell and craned her neck to see her crow calling out to her. A mission, her heartbeat picked up in pace. She hadn’t been on one since a few days before Kanae’s death. How out of practice could she be?

“Pardon the noise,” (Y/n) bowed. The meeting had paused in their hushed conversation to observe the bird as well. (Y/n) hardly gave Shinobu a glance as she past. Her fingers trembling slightly as she made her way back inside to retrieve her nichirin blade from her room. (Y/n)’s mind buzzed and her crow’s caws sounded muted and muffled, far away. She kept walking, willing her breaths to remain controlled. Her concentration broke as a hand reached out from behind her and tugged her back.

(Y/n) turned to meet Shinobu’s eyes. Though more subdued, the concern she saw there was genuine.

“(Y/n), I kept telling you to stop. Are you listening to me?”

“I’m sorry, I guess I was just focusing on the mission ahead.”

Shinobu breathed deeply releasing the air in a shaky exhale before gripping (Y/n)’s face in one hand, surprising her.

“No you weren’t.” Shinobu’s grip was firm, “You need to concentrate on your surroundings. I was almost yelling at you just now. I need to know you are going to be able to keep your head about you out there.”

(Y/n) tried to nod her head but Shinobu’s hand kept her head in place.

“I need to hear you say it.” Shinobu said.

“I can keep my head. I will.” (Y/n) swallowed uncomfortably.

Shinobu searched (Y/n)’s face, slowly releasing her grip from (Y/n)‘s jaw and instead grabbed at the neck of (Y/n)’s uniform pulling her so close their noses bumped.

“You better,” She spoke softly.

“I will,” (Y/n) repeated.

Shinobu untensed, her fingers released (Y/n)’s uniform and she wrapped her arms around her in a tight hug that (Y/n) quickly reciprocated.

“Your meeting,” (Y/n) recalled after a moment.

“I asked to be excused. I’m the master of the estate, I can get away with escaping for for a few minutes.”

“I wouldn’t make a habit out of it if I were you.” (Y/n) attempted to joke.

“Only when it matters.” Shinobu nodded seriously, causing (Y/n)’s heart to leap.

(Y/n)’s crow cawed impatiently and the girls parted. (Y/n) left to retrieve her blade and Shinobu watched her back as she left, her hands clenched into tight fists beneath the sleeves of her sister’s haori.

***

Night after night, the missions kept coming. (Y/n) had begun to wonder if she’d ever get to go home again as days became weeks. Scattered letters between waves of demon slaying were the best she could manage to make sure everyone back home knew she was alright.

Another night, a new moon. A few more nights and it would be a full month since she’d last seen everyone. She was glad she took the time to say goodbye before she left. She never imagined she’d be asked to work for so long without reprieve.

Another well timed flower breathing technique beheads another demon and (Y/n) falls against the trunk of a tree breathing hard. She is uninjured but greatly fatigued. The thought to sit and rest hardly enters her mind before her crow commands her eastward to eliminate another threat before dawn.

Breath after breath, technique after technique, night after night (Y/n) fought until everything ached and beyond. When she saw the the sun peak out over the horizon it was almost enough to bring (Y/n) to tears, but she never faltered. She had to stay strong. This was the life she chose to pursue. To save people from the same fate that befallen so many people she had cared about.

It was during an exceptionally hot day when the sun was at its highest point that (Y/n) flinched awake at the shrill squawks she had grown to loathe.

“What?” She hissed between her teeth, her fingers knotting in the grass that had served as her bed for the day.

“Return home to the Butterfly Estate! Return home to recover and rest! Await further instruction!”

(Y/n) lifted herself to rest on her elbows to stare wide-eyed at the bird sitting in the tree branch overhead. For the first time in that very long month, she allowed the tears to finally fall.

***

(Y/n) felt nervous coming back after so long. She opted to return from the rear entrance in an attempt to not garner too much attention. She allowed herself a tentative smile as the gardens came into view. Her fingers skimmed across the colorful blooms as she walked, freezing up only when she saw Shinobu collecting herbs in the distance. Her foot snapped a twig, alerting Shinobu to glance behind her.

“Hi, stranger.” Shinobu simpered, getting to her feet. “Oh!”

(Y/n) forgot all her previous worries and jogged up to Shinobu, picking her up with the added strength that she had built up in her month long absence and twirled her around with abandon.

“(Y/n)?” Shinobu chuckled with surprise, bracing her arms around (Y/n)‘s shoulders as she was flung around.

“I missed you!” (Y/n) sniffled, finally putting the girl down but still holding her tightly.

“I missed you too.” Shinobu said, rubbing (Y/n)’s back. “What took so long getting back, hm?”

“Mission after mission after mission.” came (Y/n)’s bitter reply. “I actually cried when my crow told me I could come home... I don’t know why I told you that. That’s embarrassing.”

Shinobu laughed, pulling back from (Y/n) to get a good look at her. “My, (Y/n), I can tell your time away had made you stronger. Even if you are still a bit of a crybaby.”

“Hey!” (Y/n) pouted.

“(Y/n) is back!”

“Woah!”

(Y/n) was sent stumbling backward a few steps by three blurs of white. Naho, Sumi and Kiyo spoke a mile a minute filling in (Y/n) on all the goings on of the estate. Aoi and Kanao came by soon after and gave (Y/n) their own greetings, expressing their happiness over the slayer’s return in their own ways.

It was good to be home, it was. But after a few days, (Y/n) really got a chance to see how different Shinobu had become.

The tone of her voice carried like a soft breeze and a polite smile could always be seen on her lips. Aoi reminded (Y/n) more of the Shinobu she remembered than the current Shinobu before her. It unnerved her. The way Shinobu would tilt her head just so and giggle daintily into her hand... it was like staring at a ghost.

(Y/n) thought she could get over the change, but she simply couldn’t. Not when staring into those dark, purple eyes. Oh, how they swirled with anger and despair. If Shinobu couldn’t fully believe in the persona she had crafted for herself, then (Y/n) wouldn’t either. Late one night while helping Shinobu in the lab, (Y/n) finally decided to confront her.

“Why do you keep smiling like that?” (Y/n) frowned, worrying the page of the textbook before her between her fingers.

“Hm? I’m afraid I don’t quite know what you mean.” Shinobu replied casually, smile still firmly in place as she crushed some herbs under her pestle.

“You do too know what I mean,” (Y/n) eyebrows furrowed slightly in aggravation, “why do you keep smiling like you’re okay when you’re clearly not?”

“What have I said or done that makes you think I’m not okay? I’m perfectly fine, (Y/n),” she chuckled, “you worry for nothing.”

“That mask might have everyone else fooled... or maybe they’re just complacent, but I’m tired of pretending nothing is wrong. Talk to me, Shinobu.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Shinobu shook her head, “there is nothing to discuss. Perhaps I’ve kept you up too late.”

“You shouldn’t have to hide what you’re truly feeling,” (Y/n) persisted, “not from me at least. I thought we were friends.”

“We are.�� Shinobu’s tone was nearly clipped as she crushed the herbs a bit more vigorously.

“Then stop acting so, so fake!” (Y/n) spat, wincing almost immediately as fast has the words came out. There was probably a better way she could have said that. Before she could apologize and try again, Shinobu put the pestle on the table with a harsh clink and stalked over to where (Y/n) was sitting. Fighting to keep her tone in check, she stared (Y/n) down with that plastic smile and spoke in a low, hushed tone that filled (Y/n)’s veins with ice.

“So I’m fake, is that right? People change, (Y/n). You were gone for a month, you can’t expect everyone to wait for you, to not change or grow in your absence.”

“People change, yes,” (Y/n) swallowed tightly at the proximity, “but whatever this is Shinobu, I really don’t think it’s healthy. I can tell you’re bottling something up. Kanae—”

“Leave.”

“...what?”

“Leave,” Shinobu closes the textbook in front of (Y/n) and although she does so with care, the sound is deafening in (Y/n)’s ears, “I don’t care where you go, just get out of my lab. I’ve had my fill of this mindless chatter.”

“Are you being serious right now?” (Y/n) clenched her fists and stood from her chair, the legs slid roughly against the wood below.

“Yes, I don’t have time for immature children right now I’m afraid.” Came Shinobu’s airy reply.

“Immature— stop acting like you know better than me, we’re both kids, we’re fourteen!“ (Y/n) seethes, “I’m worried about you! I care about you! Don’t you get it?”

“Your worry is unfounded. It’s late and you are being of no help to me like this so I’ll ask you once more, leave.”

(Y/n) felt heat pricking the corners of her eyes. “I feel like I don’t know who you are anymore.” She breathed. “But fine, I’ll leave if that’s what you want.”

“At this moment in time, I couldn’t ask for anything better.” Shinobu replied, turning her back to (Y/n) to continue what she had previously been working on.

Once (Y/n) shut the door with finality and her quick footsteps became softer as she ran down the hall, Shinobu exhaled harshly, gripping the pestle tightly in her hand as she mercilessly pounded the dried herbs into dust.

“Only immature people don’t control their emotions... only immature people...”

As Shinobu repeated her mantra, (Y/n) burst into her room and looked around her. With trembling hands she changed into a fresh uniform and packed a small bag of belongings and slinging it over her shoulder. She grabbed her haori and attached her nichirin blade to her hip.

She looked around the room once more and caught her reflection in the little hand mirror on her desk, catching the bright colors of a wing that secured her hair in place. She reached back, freeing her hair from the clip and stared at it. She ran her thumb over the decorative clip before setting it on the desk. She reached for a plain hair band and tied her hair back with that instead.

(Y/n) left her room, sparing one last hurt glance at the butterfly clip before exiting the estate grounds. Before long, her crow circled overhead and (Y/n) held her arm out for the bird to take perch. The crow cawed at her expectantly, questioning her.

“If she wants me to leave, then what else is there to do?” (Y/n) shuddered in the wind. She turned away from the estate, willing herself not to turn back.

“Where will you go?” The crow asked.

“...I don’t know.”

With every step leaving the warmth of the estate farther behind, (Y/n)’s heart grew heavier in her chest.

***

“Have any of you seen (Y/n) today?” Shinobu asked the girls once they had come back in after hanging the laundry out to dry.

A chorus of negatives and head shakes met her and she sighed inwardly. “Very well then. Thank you.”

Shinobu traveled through the maze of hallways that made up her home, easily finding herself in front of (Y/n)’s door, knocking politely. With no reply, Shinobu forced herself not to roll her eyes and opened the door.

“(Y/n), if this is about last night...” Shinobu blinked at the empty room. Futon made, clean floors, not a thing out of place, but no (Y/n).

“Perhaps she’s out training.” Shinobu said to herself. She was about to close the door and head off into the gardens when a glint from the desk caught her eye and she approached. A soft gasp left her lips as she picked up the hairpin. Cradling it in her hands, Shinobu forced her breaths to remain controlled. (Y/n) had never gone a day without wearing the pin since the Kochou sisters gifted it to her.

In the safety of the empty room, Shinobu allowed herself to slump over the desk. She held the discarded hairpin close to her chest, immediately understanding what this small symbol meant. Yes, she knew what it meant, she just wished to know why. She fought against the waves, against the feeling that she was drowning again.

***

Four years was a long time, and if you asked (Y/n), the demon slayer would say that was especially true with her line of work. The demons were never the same, but the routine in between was lonely and dull. Kill a demon, settle down at an inn or in the trees for the day, move to the next village and repeat. Sometimes the stays were longer, but that was the gist of it.

(Y/n) kept to herself most of the time. There wasn’t really a point in making anything more than loose acquaintances with the constant traveling and dangers her work presented. Even on the few missions she had been paired up with other slayers in the area, she focused on the job at hand before quickly making her way to her next assignment. That started to change after she met Kamado Tanjirou and his demon sister Nezuko.

They did not get off on the right foot to say the least.

(Y/n) had been sent to the same location as the young slayer for a mission and knew something was off about him right away. Something off with that box he carried around anyway. (Y/n) opted to let him be for the time being, focusing on the mission ahead. Skip forward to the heat of battle, and (Y/n) could hardly believe her eyes when a demon burst from the boy’s box to attack another demon that had snuck around Tanjirou’s back.

(Y/n) had no time to watch and focus on this new development at the moment, she had her own demons to take care of. Her flower breathing techniques weaved through her enemies and heads went flying. Before long, the mission was completed and (Y/n) turned to the boy breathing heavily in the dirt with the demon from the box hovering over him looking at (Y/n) with curious eyes.

“You’re really skilled, (Y/n)-san!” Tanjirou praised, somehow unaware of the danger his sister was in, “You don’t even look like you’re out of breath.”

“I’ve been doing this for years. I know a lot. For instance,” (Y/n) spoke, her face stern as stone as she readied her blade, startling Tanjirou, “every demon must be destroyed.” She went in with a quick slash aimed at the demon’s neck only to pause at the last second when the foolish younger boy leapt to his feet to shield the demon from the blow.

“What are you doing?” (Y/n) asked sternly.

“Wait, she’s my sister! She’s a good demon!”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you that what you are doing is against corps rules. I can sympathize with wanting to hold onto your loved ones, but there is no such thing as a good demon. Step aside.”

“No, Nezuko has never eaten a human and she never will!” Tanjirou held his ground while his sister growled at (Y/n) from behind him.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes. “Alright then,” she said with a sarcastic sweetness, “prove it.”

“What?” Tanjirou blinked.

“Prove it, take off the muzzle. Let’s see if she has as much control as you claim she does.”

“But—“

“It shouldn’t be a problem, right? If she’s as docile as you claim what’s the issue?”

Tanjirou grit his teeth and gently pulled the muzzle to rest around his sister’s neck. (Y/n) stepped forward, her face inches away from the demon. She wasn’t worried, if the demon lunged for her she was confident she could slice its head the moment the air changed.

“Well demon?” (Y/n) sighed, surprising Tanjirou by slicing the pad of her thumb on her sharp blade, “hungry?”

To Nezuko’s credit, she hardly flinched. However, her eyes followed the path of the blood and a small trickle of drool slid past her lips. (Y/n) taunted her a bit further, waving the bloodied hand in front of her nose, still Nezuko held strong and even went as far as turning away.

“...I must say, I’m rather impressed,” (Y/n) finally spoke, stepping back from the demon and licking at her own wound, “marechi blood such as my own usually makes the demons go crazy,” she turns back to Tanjirou, “still, you must know that keeping a demon alive like this, especially as a slayer, is dangerous for both of you.”

“I know,” Tanjirou bowed his head.

“Well,” (Y/n) stretched and sighed, “as long as you know I guess it’s your own problem.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, just don’t call me out if a Hashira finds you out. I don’t feel like dying a disgrace.” (Y/n) waved him off. “You’re going to have to work even harder and be more discreet. That’s my advice to you.” And (Y/n) was going to leave it at that and walk away, but then her crow chanted in tandem with Tanjirou’s, calling them to continue forward together. (Y/n)′s eye twiched at the grating sounds.

“It looks like we’ll still be working together for some time, (Y/n)-san!” Tanjirou smiled, catching the older girl off guard by the sincerity behind it. You’d think he’d be more put off considering (Y/n) was planning to kill his sister not five minutes ago.

“I suppose we are.”

“Say, (Y/n)-san, you’re strong. You can help me get stronger too, right?”

“Mm!”

“Hey, get her off of me!” (Y/n) momentarily panicked as the demon wrapped her arms around her waist.

“Nezuko, manners!”

(Y/n) wasn’t sure what she had done to get saddled with the strange siblings, but she could tell her job just went above her pay grade.

***

As it turns out, the Kamado siblings weren’t so bad. In fact, (Y/n) was starting to get really attached to the two. It was when Inosuke and Zenitsu were pulled into their little group, that was when (Y/n) realized she didn’t know what true pain was.

“(Y/n)-san, marry me!”

“Flower Girl, fight me!”

All damn day and night.

(Y/n) thought she’d finally have reprieve once Tanjirou had healed up at the Wisteria House, but of course the two boisterous boys were being sent with them to their next mission, Natagumo Mountain.

Zenitsu cowered at the forest edge and (Y/n) felt no remorse in leaving him behind as she sprinted ahead of Inosuke and Tanjirou, freeing the puppeted Mizunoto slayers.

Eventually they had been split off from each other to fight their own battles. (Y/n) was tired but otherwise unharmed, surprised when a small Nezuko came barreling into her.

“Nezu—?” (Y/n) gasped as the air shifted above her and she dodged the quick swipe aimed at the tiny body that clung to her. She quickly pivoted, blade in hand, and crossed swords with the assailant her eyes blowing wide at the placid face in front of her.

“Kanao?!” (Y/n) yelled out, the nostalgia and adrenaline coursing through her body was an odd, slightly terrifying combination.

Kanao tilted her head, her lips parted ever so slightly as recognition gleamed in her eyes. Despite this, Kanao did have a mission to complete and (Y/n) was keeping her from completing her orders. She continued swiping at the older girl she used to know, trying to behead the demon she could not fathom why she was protecting.

(Y/n) parried and blocked best she could, taking a defensive approach while she tried to talk Kanao down. She didn’t want to hurt Kanao, but she didn’t want Nezuko to be killed either.

Finally a saving grace, a crow swooping by with a message that saved Nezuko’s neck. (Y/n) sighed in relief as Kanao pulled back. Still looking at (Y/n) she pointed to the small demon that had wrapped herself tightly over (Y/n)’s back.

“Is this Nezuko?” She asked looking for a positive ID on the demon in question.

“Yes.” (Y/n) easily replied.

“Come with me then.” Kanao said, already corralling (Y/n) and her demon backpack in the direction of the forest edge.

(Y/n) walked alongside her a bit begrudgingly. If she made a break for it, she could have probably gotten away, but it was very likely Tanjirou and the others were already in custody. The best chance they had now was to do as they were told and hope Nezuko’s resolve would stand firm.

So (Y/n) hid Nezuko in her haori as the sun began to peak over the hills and followed Kanao to the clearing of bustling Kakushi. On the way, she began preparing her story for the trial she was sure her little team was bound to endure.

She was immediately broken from her thoughts at the ethereal sight of the Insect Pillar emerging from another point of the woods with the Water Pillar and a badly beaten Tanjirou on his back.

(Y/n)’s breath caught in her throat as those deep, dark eyes found hers at it was like time was at a stand still. At least it would have been if not for Shinobu steadily making her way towards her, her expression painfully impassive beyond the small upturn of her lips. Shinobu kept coming until she was directly in front of (Y/n).

Nezuko stirred in her sleep, clutching at (Y/n)’s back as if she could sense anxiety in the slayer’s heart. The demon was the only thing grounding her at this point as Shinobu tilted her head, an almost sinister look in her eye as she observed the small demon bundle protected by (Y/n)’s haori. All too soon, her cold eyes found their way back to (Y/n)’s and she spoke.

“I’m not going to have to tie you up, am I?”

(Y/n) closed her eyes briefly and tried to take a calming breath. With a short, almost imperceivable shake of her head, she hoarsely replied.

“No.”

“Let’s try to keep it that way then.”

Shinobu and Kanao had let (Y/n) help Nezuko into her box, but then they immediately separated the two, having a Kakushi carry the box with a wary look in her eyes. (Y/n) did her best not to look behind her where Kanao and Shinobu walked, no doubt watching her for any sign of flight.

She gulped, eyes nervously shifting to the Water Pillar walking beside her, and the Kakushi who was now carrying Tanjirou in his stead. The Water Pillar spared her an emotionless glance as he forged ahead.

“Is he going to be alright?” She asked in a hushed tone.

Enough time had passed after her question that (Y/n) had figured the man wasn’t in the mood to talk, understandably so, but (Y/n) was worried about the state Tanjirou was in. She nearly jumped out of her skin when he actually answered her minutes later.

“That will all depend on how the trial goes.”

(Y/n) felt dread pool in her stomach as they continued to march down the mountain.

***

The garden of the Master’s estate would have been lovely on any other occasion, but (Y/n) could only bring herself to stare at the pebbles below her knees and Tanjirou passed out at her side. They had taken Nezuko somewhere else in the meantime, she could only hope they would let the demon be, let her prove herself in front of them instead of killing her on principle.

(Y/n) could feel that Shinobu was standing just behind her but she dared not engage. Four years of silence between the two and a trial for treason in the highest regard had brought them together again. (Y/n) wanted to scream.

Finally Tanjirou began to stir and (Y/n) allowed herself to push away her turmoil to rouse the younger boy gently. The last thing they needed was for him to be all up in arms before the trial even officially began.

“(Y/n)-san,” Tanjirou winced, “where are we? Where is Nezuko?”

“We’re at the Demon Slayer Headquarters,” (Y/n) replied, her voice was hardly above a whisper as she felt the pressure of all the Hashira’s eyes boring into them, “I don’t know where they’re keeping Nezuko, but right now you need to focus on the trial ahead.”

“The trial?”

“For harboring a demon, Tanjirou.”

“I wouldn’t bother trying to justify it! A crime as heinous as yours only ends one way!” Rengoku Kyojirou loudly proclaimed, rallying a range of replies from his fellow pillars.

“Now that he’s finally awake to witness his punishment, let’s behead these traitors and the demon and get on with our lives.” Uzui Tengen added.

“Please,” (Y/n) forced her voice not to waiver, “allow him to explain the situation at least—“

“You’re in no position to be asking for favors, girl.” Obanai Iguro cut her off, glaring down at her from where he lounged on a tree branch. “You had best hold your tongue. A slayer at your rank should be ashamed. I’m surprised you haven’t already sliced yourself open for the embarrassment you’ve brought to the corps.”

“Iguro-san!” Kanroji gasped at the harsh words.

“Who are these people, (Y/n)-san?” Tanjirou groaned, noticing for the first time that his hands were tied tightly behind his back.

“Tanjirou, are you serious?” (Y/n)’s tone was hushed and urgent, “they’re the Hashira! You know, best of the demon slayers?”

“I don’t know, umph!” (Y/n) hastily covered his mouth, a nervous sweat gathered at her brow.

“Just try to be respectful, will you? You already broke the thin ice you’ve been traveling on, let’s try not to drown as well!”

“This isn’t right, (Y/n)-san! Where is Nezuko? Zenitsu? Inosuke? Murata?” Tanjirou spoke out, his voice heavy with emotion as he fought his way up to his knees.

“What I want to know is why we haven’t tied Tomioka or the Kinoe ranked slayer.” Obanai sneered from his tree, ignoring Tanjirou’s desperate tone. “They are both part of the boy’s schemes and should be punished as such. How are we going to teach them a lesson?”

“Oh they’ll be fine,” (Y/n) shivered hearing Shinobu speak above her from where she knelt in the pebbles, “we’ll come up with a penalty later.”

(Y/n) froze, her eyes refused to look up beyond the feet that stood before Tanjirou and herself.

“What I’m interested right now, is hearing this boy’s story.” Shinobu said. “He’s been traveling with a demon all this time, and I wish to hear why. It must be quite the tale to have Tomioka-san break ranks,” the feet take a step closer and Shinobu’s voice dropped in volume, “and you as well, (Y/n).”

(Y/n) tightened her grip over her pant leg, still refusing to look up. She could imagine an array of expressions her old friend could be wearing right now that could cut her deeper than any blade. Pity, anger, disgust, smugness, apathy, that blank smile... no, (Y/n) couldn’t bear to look up.

“So why, Kamado Tanjirou?” Shinobu asked.

“Who cares?” Uzui scoffed from a few yards away, yet he waited for the boy to explain himself.

“She’s my—“ he broke into a fit of coughs and (Y/n) tried to soothe his back, telling him to breathe.

Shinobu stooped down, a gourd of water in hand, offering the water to Tanjirou and finally catching (Y/n)’s eyes as the boy drank the medicated water. When Shinobu’s eyes returned to Tanjirou, (Y/n) remembered how to breathe.

“She’s my little sister!” Tanjirou proclaimed. “She’s never hurt anyone and she never will!”

A few of the Hashira began casting their doubt, but Tanjirou powered through.

“I became a slayer to find a cure for her! In two whole years since she became a demon, she’s never eaten a single person! Let her continue to fight by my side!”

“Well, well, looks like the fun’s already starting.”

(Y/n) turned her head and her breathing hitched. Of course the Wind Pillar of all people would get his hands on Nezuko’s box.

“Is this the boy who has been traveling with a demon? Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Shinazugawa asked with a sinister grin.

“Please put down the box Shinazugawa-sama!” The Kakushi (Y/n) recalled to have prior possession of the box pleaded.

“Shinazugawa, please do not act out of line.” Shinobu warned.

“Nah, run that by me again, kid?” Sanemi jeered, holding the box precariously in one hand, “fighting alongside a demon? Impossible, you idiot!”

Tanjirou and (Y/n) called out in horror as the Hashira rammed his blade clean through the box, skewering Nezuko.

Tanjirou scrambled to his feet and lunged at Sanemi, (Y/n) was about to get to her feet as well, but Shinobu held her firmly in place, clutching (Y/n)’s arm tightly while shooting her a warning glance.

(Y/n) could only watch, mouth agape, as Tanjirou head butted Shinazugawa to the ground.

Mitsuri attempted to stifle a snort, covering her face in her hands.

“If you can’t tell the difference between good demons and bad ones, then you don’t deserve to be a Hashira!” Tanjirou yelled.

“We’re doomed.” (Y/n) whispered weakly. She felt as if all her blood was sinking to her knees, sinking as fast as their chance of forgiveness down the drain.

Before Sanemi could retaliate, a couple of Oyakata-sama’s children announced the Master’s arrival. (Y/n) was quick to follow Shinobu in a bow, wincing when she heard what could only be Sanemi pounding Tanjirou into the rocks, forcing him to bow.

“Hello everyone,” Oyakata-sama addressed the garden, his voice carried in the warm breeze, “how good it feels to have you all here.”

Sanemi greeted the Master, formally asking for an explanation. If not for the seriousness of the moment, (Y/n) would have rolled her eyes.

“The Kamado siblings have been sanctioned, you see. I request you all respect that.” Oyakata stated simply.

An array of mostly negative objections arose at this ending with Sanemi calling for punishments for Tanjirou, (Y/n), and Giyuu.

The Master stood silently for a moment before asking one of his children to read a letter aloud. A letter from a previous Hashira, detailing Nezuko’s history. The letter also revealing that should Nezuko fail; Urokodaki, Tanjirou, and Giyuu would atone through seppuku.

A few of the Hashira were still willing to speak against such a plan, swearing that it was not a risk worth taking. Once there was a lull in their heated remarks, Ubuyashiki saw fit to address (Y/n).

“(Y/n), my child.”

(Y/n)’s head jutted up at the sudden call of attention to her presence. “Ye— yes, Master?”

“Why do you think that of the squad that has been built around you, only you are here?” Oyakata-sama asked with an warm smile.

“I would suppose it would be because I should know better than a ragtag group of Mizunoto, Master.” came (Y/n)’s subdued reply.

“I would hope so.” The Master chuckled, causing heat to bloom across (Y/n)’s cheeks. “Why didn’t you kill the demon?”

“I was going to, but she proved herself to me,” (Y/n) began speaking more evenly as she recalled the moment, “I presented her with my blood, my rare blood, and she turned away. I have traveled with the Kamado siblings for weeks and not once had Nezuko hurt anyone. She protects people, she sleeps to replenish energy. Based on everything I have observed, I believe in Nezuko. I believe in Tanjirou.”

“Would you stake your life on this along with the others listed here today?” Oyakata-sama asked.

(Y/n) breathed in, firmly nodding her head. Her eyes meeting Ubuyashiki’s milky blank one’s despite his lack of vision.

“Yes, I would.”

Shinobu’s hold on (Y/n)’s bicep curled. (Y/n) hadn’t realized she had still been holding her down.

“And here we have three, now four, people willing to take responsibility for this demon. What say you, my children?” The Master asked the Hashira warmly.

“Forgive me Master, but this is not a matter of numbers!” Sanemi yelled, “Demons are sick creatures that need to be put down and I’ll prove it to you now!”

Sanemi sliced his arm, much more blood than (Y/n) had conjured with the small cut to her thumb that she had presented to Nezuko. She and Tanjirou watched as the blood dripped to the box, staining the lacquered wood.

“No good doing this in the light.” Obanai said, “it won’t come out unless it’s dark.”

Sanemi dashed to the shaded engawa, enticing Nezuko to come out with another stab at the box.

“No!” Tanjirou yelled, he made to scramble to the engawa, but was quickly subdued by Obanai.

“Stop!” (Y/n) echoed Tanjirou’s sentiments, pulling against Shinobu’s hold. “Why are you being so needlessly cruel?”

Sanemi ignored them, a wicked grin on his face as he watched Nezuko emerge from the box, growling lowly.

“Well then, demon?” He sneered, holding out his arm.

(Y/n) could tell Nezuko was straining against the pull of the marechi blood. With all of the injuries she had sustained working against her as well, it couldn’t be easy for the demon to hold back.

“Nezuko!” Tanjirou wheezed as Obanai was pincering his lung painfully with his elbow.

“Kamado-kun,” Shinobu addressed, “don’t struggle too much while in that hold, your lung might burst.”

Tanjirou only struggled harder, surprising everyone when he broke through his rope restraints and stumbled towards the engawa. Tomioka stopped Obanai from pinning him again.

“Nezuko!” Tanjirou called again.

His voice seemed to finally break through to Nezuko and after a few tense moments, she turned away from Sanemi in disgust.

(Y/n) couldn’t help the relieved smile that overtook her lips.

Once the scene was relayed to the Master, he seemed pleased with the report. He told Tanjirou that although Nezuko had done well to prove herself, they would need to grow even stronger before they could be fully accepted by the others. With that wisdom, he said they were free to go.

(Y/n) startled as Shinobu finally let her go, raising her arm to speak. “If all is well then Oyakata-sama, allow me to provide lodging for them.”

Both (Y/n) and Tanjirou seemed a bit wary of this sudden hospitality, (Y/n) even more so, but if Shinobu noticed or cared she didn’t show it, signaling the Kakushi who had been standing by to gather the injured boy and the demon.

The Kakushi tasked with carrying Nezuko seemed a bit frightened of the little demon kneeling in her box, so naturally (Y/n) rose to carry her instead.

“I’ve got her.” She smiled kindly and reached for the box and secured it shut, but not before giving the demon girl a few well earned head pats that rose Nezuko’s mood greatly.

Another Kakushi picked up Tanjirou then (Y/n) and the two Kakushi quickly made their retreat. That is, until Tanjirou bursted back into the garden asking to headbutt Sanemi.

“Please excuse us!” (Y/n) and the two Kakushi bowed deeply once they got him back under control and sped off twice as fast. (Y/n) and the Kakushi running beside her berated Tanjirou from where he sat on the other Kakushi’s back for such a disrespectful display after being allowed the impossible.

When they reached the Butterfly Estate, (Y/n)’s heart squeezed in her chest. The grounds looked to be near the same as the night she had left. No one was there to greet them at the door, so they went around the gardens and found Kanao standing amongst the butterflies.

“Hi, Kanao.” (Y/n) greeted the younger girl bashfully. Now that they weren’t battling over keeping Nezuko’s head, (Y/n) finally took in how much she had grown in four years.

Kanao stayed silent, a serene smile on her lips as she merely observed the group that had approached her.

“What are you all here for?” A sharp voice called from behind them, causing the Kakushi to jump and spin to quickly explain they were here to put Tanjirou in the infirmary.

“Well then come with me...” Aoi’s words trailed off a bit once her eyes found (Y/n)’s face.

“Hi Aoi,” (Y/n) gave a nervous half wave, “you’ve gotten a bit taller.”

Aoi marched straight up to (Y/n) and berated her with a barrage of small fists pounding painlessly against her chest. “What would you expect after being gone so long!” She sniffed, “Four years without a single letter or visit? We thought you were dead, idiot!”

“(Y/n)-san? Do you know these people?” Tanjirou asked from Gotou’s back.

“Yeah, I uh, sorta used to live here.” (Y/n) replied, allowing Aoi to continue hitting her to her heart’s content.

“‘Sorta used to live here’, you’re family! You have always had a place here! Now come on, I’m sure Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho will have a bone to pick with you as well. And Shinobu-sama!” Aoi’s fist struck especially hard at the thought, “Shinobu-sama is going to have some choice words for you when she gets back I just know it!”

Aoi led them all inside, occasionally throwing a few more jabs into (Y/n)’s side to make sure she was really there. She didn’t admit that was what they were for of course, she played it off more as a punishment for disappearing for so long.

There was screaming coming from the infirmary and (Y/n) would have been worried if she hadn’t recognized the sound almost immediately.

“Zenitsu!” Tanjirou called excitedly.

While Tanjirou and poor Gotou were dealing with the sobbing, snotty boy, Aoi had dragged (Y/n) over to Kiyo who had been tending to Zenitsu only moments before.

“Look who finally decided to come home.” Aoi told the younger girl who looked up, tilting her head. (Y/n) almost thought Kiyo hadn’t recognized her. Being as young as she was, she wouldn’t have blamed her, but then she burst forward and hugged (Y/n) tightly around her waist.

“What’s going on in here? Hm, Aoi-san, Kiyo?”

Naho and Sumi had made their way into the infirmary with a basket of fresh linens and paused at the entryway for a moment before they realized who their friend was hugging and ran over to join her with tears in their eyes.

“(Y/n)-san, where have you been all this time?” Naho whimpered.

“Why didn’t you say anything before you left?” Sumi cried.

“I’m sorry,” (Y/n) knelt down to better hug them all, “I know it’s not enough to make up for anything, but I’m sorry for leaving like that. It wasn’t fair,” she looked up to meet Aoi’s stern blue eyes, “to any of you.”

“Well, make it up to us by sticking around from now on.” Aoi said, crossing her arms. “No more running away.”

“But...” (Y/n) was conflicted. Had Shinobu not told the girls why she had left? (Y/n) mustered up the best smile she could and nodded feebly. “All right.”

“(Y/n)-san, your box is... humming?” Sumi pointed at the wooden box.

“Oh, um, you see... in this box is my friend, Nezuko,” (Y/n) treaded carefully, not wishing to startle the girls too badly if she could help it.

“You have someone in a box?” Aoi barked, “well let them out for goodness sake!”

“It’s a little bright in here...” (Y/n) shifted her vision to where Tanjirou and Zenitsu were talking, catching sight of Inosuke as well. Poor boar boy looked like he’d seen better days. “And I’m not sure that Shinobu-” should she still speak of her so informally? “-would be pleased if I let her out without her blessing.”

“Why wouldn’t Shinobu-sama allow you to let someone out of a box?” Aoi rolled her eyes.

“It’s complicated. I’m sure she’ll want to talk to you all about it once she comes back. Until then, Nezuko will be fine in here.”

The girls, though incredulous, let the subject drop for now. Although, they couldn’t help but eye the box with suspicion. Once Tanjirou was settled in the infirmary, the butterfly girls dragged (Y/n) away to talk about the goings on of the last four years which soon devolved into hounding (Y/n) for her own stories to share, even Kanao had come by to sit and listen.

“...And that’s how I helped the fishing village take care of the demon that was lurking in the sea.”

“Tell us another one, (Y/n)-san!” The youngest girls pleaded, kicking their feet in the air behind them. They had migrated to lay flat on their stomachs as the stories progressed and watched (Y/n) recount her adventures with their heads propped up on their arms with rapt attention.

“I’m afraid that will have to wait for another time, it’s quite late you know.”

Everyone turned to the door to find Shinobu staring down at them. The youngest girls pouted a bit, trying to get a bit more time to stick around, but Shinobu held firm and directed them to their rooms.

“You’ll still be here tomorrow, right? (Y/n)-san?” Sumi asked from the doorway.

“I...” (Y/n) pulled at the sleeve of her uniform and subtly pursed her lips while trying to figure out how to proceed, to her surprise, Shinobu spoke up on her behalf.

“I promise you’ll see her in the morning. Now of to bed. (Y/n) and I have much to discuss.”

The thought of having a prolonged conversation with Shinobu sent shivers through (Y/n)’s spine. Once all the girls were well out of sight, Shinobu redirected her attention to (Y/n).

“Let’s drop off your cargo first,” Shinobu said, motioning to the box sitting beside (Y/n), “I’ve arranged a room and Kamado-kun has been wondering where his... sister, has been.”

“Of course.” (Y/n) stood, shouldering the box.

Apparently the room was rather far. (Y/n) felt as if the silence between them was slowly eating at her until she finally decided to speak. For better or for worse.

“You’ve taken all of this extraordinarily well,” (Y/n) commented, testing the waters.

“Mm, I’d like to hold off on any conversation until we drop off the demon. Use this time to gather any thoughts, if you have them that is.”

(Y/n)’s brow furrowed slightly, eyes narrowed. She was sure that was some kind of dig at her intelligence, but she held her tongue.

They dropped off Nezuko, (Y/n) and Tanjirou bid each other good night, and then (Y/n) was led to an all too familiar space, the lab.

Shinobu motioned for (Y/n) to sit at one of the less cluttered tables while she closed the door firmly behind them. (Y/n) would have been lying if she said she wasn’t even just a tad bit concerned by the setting of this ‘talk’ that was about to unfold. Finally, Shinobu took the stool across from her on the other side of the table. She laced her fingers together, using them to prop up her chin as her endlessly amethyst eyes bore into (Y/n)’s. That ghostly smile seemingly perfected after four years of separation, had (Y/n)’s hands clench into fists under the table.

“So,” Shinobu began, her voice deceptively sweet, “when exactly do you think it was when you completely lost your mind?”

“Excuse me?” (Y/n)’s eye twitched.

“Defending a demon, offering up your own life for a demon to live... how insanely idiotic. I thought you were smarter than that. I suppose it had been.. four years, was it? Four years since you ran off. And I thought that was the most careless thing you could ever do. You really have outdone yourself!”

“Stop,” (Y/n) had heard enough of these little jabs and she new well enough Shinobu could go all day as long as she hadn’t changed too drastically in their time apart. However, Shinobu powered through.

“Everyone was devastated when you left you know. We were a family and you just up and left in the middle of the night without a word so soon after—“ After Kanae, “Now you’re putting everything on the line for some demon? You’re a coward. A selfish coward.”

(Y/n) was really angry now. She stood up so fast her stool clattered to the ground behind her. She slammed her hands against the table and stared furiously into Shinobu’s placid expression, though she could detect a hint of a heated spark in those deep purple eyes.

“Don’t act like you’re so innocent in all of this! You told me to leave! You want to judge me for trusting Nezuko with my life, fine! But I only did what you commanded of me when I left. You don’t get to say I just fucked off because you think I didn’t care enough!”

Shinobu had the nerve to chuckle, though no trace of humor was there, as she slowly rose to her own feet and assumed a similar stance over the table as (Y/n).

“Did you really think when I said that, when I told you to leave the lab, I meant I wanted you to walk out of my life?” Shinobu asked seriously.

“I didn’t know what you wanted! You weren’t the same person anymore! Don’t try telling me that it wasn’t what you wanted either, you never came looking for me. You never sent your crow. Tell me you weren’t ecstatic when you woke up that morning and didn’t have to deal with me anymore!”

Shinobu slapped her own hand against the table, a vein pulsed painfully under the skin of her forehead. She opened her mouth to retort, poisoned words ready to lash out with a flick of her tongue, but as luck would have it, a Kakushi nervously called from the other side of the door.

“Kochou-sama, the treatments for the, uh, despiderfication of the slayers from Natagumo Mountain are ready to be carried out with your supervision.”

Shinobu closed her eyes, breathing in deeply before opening them again and looking significantly more drained.

“I see. Please inform the others that I’ll be there in a few moments.”

“Right away, Kochou-sama.”

As the footsteps pattered away, (Y/n) fixed her stool upright before heading in the direction of the door, assuming she and Shinobu were done talking, or screaming rather. (Y/n) was surprised to feel Shinobu grasp her hand as she tried to pass by.

“You remember where your room is, right?” Shinobu asked, the undertones of her voice still taut with anger.

(Y/n) too tired to fight on, responded simply with a mute nod.

“I had the Kakushi clean it earlier today. Everything should still be as you left it.”

Shinobu let go of (Y/n)’s hand and it immediately felt cold. The Hashira opened the lab door and stepped out into the hallway, her back to (Y/n) as she made her last parting statement.

“If you know what is good for you, you won’t step a foot outside of estate grounds without speaking to me first.”

“And if I don’t?” (Y/n) asked just to be obstinate.

“Then I guess I’ll have to hunt you down for sport.” Shinobu quickly replied, turning to face (Y/n) just to show her how serious she was.

(Y/n) couldn’t help the weak guffaw that left her lips. To hear such a threat delivered by such a soothing tone was practically oxymoronic.

Shinobu lingered for a moment longer before gliding off to see to her patients while (Y/n) turned down the opposite end of the hallway and traveled down a few more to find herself standing outside of her old room. She opened the door, the space was clean as Shinobu promised. She closed the door softly behind her, blocking off the light from the hall. There would be time to be sentimental in the morning. Right now, between the Mountain, the trial and the emotional battle with the Insect Hashira herself, (Y/n) was exhausted. She scooted her way into the freshly made futon and fell asleep with the nostalgic smell of wisteria petals drifting through her airways.

***

(Y/n) awoke around mid-morning to the sun shining through her window. She stretched and got dressed, her fingers pausing over the last few buttons of her uniform as she glanced over the desk.

The butterfly hair clip she had once worn with pride sat in front of her. It appeared to be left untouched by time. Not even a speck of dust adorned the colorful wings. She reached out to it, but her fingers curled just before she touched it. She pulled her hand back as a knock sounded on the door.

“Yes?”

“It’s Aoi.” A voice called from the other side.

(Y/n) quickly took the last few steps needed to reach the door and slid it open to greet Aoi but before she could, the stern girl stepped inside and pulled the door shut again.

“Were you and Shinobu-sama fighting last night?” She asked hurriedly.

“Where did you hear that?” (Y/n) answered the question with one of her own.

“The Kakushi are partial to gossip. Now what did you do!” Aoi huffed, jabbing (Y/n)’s shoulder.

“Why does it have to be me? Shinobu was the one who started it!” (Y/n) backed up, rubbing her shoulder.

“You two better make up soon. It will hurt Naho, Sumi and Kiyo if they find out you’re still mad at each other,” Aoi crossed her arms over her chest.

“It’s not that easy, Aoi. It’s been four years. It’s not all going to go away overnight.”

“Do I have to do everything around here?” Aoi grumbled to herself, passing a hand over her face. “I’ll help you, but you better try to be civil.”

“Aoi, I don’t need help. I’m sorry that fight got back to you. If Shinobu and I talk again, I promise I’ll try harder to keep my temper in check, okay?”

Aoi sighed and shook her head, “Fine. That wasn’t what I had come to talk to you about anyway.”

“Oh,” (Y/n) tilted her head, “then what is it?”

“Your friends,” Aoi pinched the bridge of her nose, “they’re driving me crazy. I need you to get the blonde and the boar to participate in recovery training.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” (Y/n) answered with slight reluctance. She knew just how difficult those two could be.

Aoi and (Y/n) arrived at the room that was being used for the boys’ recovery training. Tanjirou was already working hard, trying to catch Kanao in a game of tag, while Zenitsu and Inosuke watched from the corner with bitter disinterest.

“Hey,” (Y/n) addressed the younger teens, “what’s the problem? Don’t you guys want to get better? Stronger?”

“It’s pointless.” Inosuke weakly answered.

“(Y/n)-san, this training is too difficult!” Zenitsu cried.

(Y/n) dodged the weepy blonde’s attempts at hugging her and bonked him on the head with the side of her fist.

“I feel no sympathy for you. Aoi and the others are working really hard to get you back in fighting shape, the least you could do is put a little bit of effort in!” (Y/n) crossed her arms, “before you know it, Tanjirou will leave you both in the dust. Do you really want that?”

Zenitsu and Inosuke grunted, still refusing to budge. (Y/n) motioned for Naho to hand her a cup of medicated water and promptly splashed its contents all over the boys.

“What was that for?” Zenitsu screeched.

“Want revenge? Come take me on.” (Y/n) motioned to the table of cups.

Naho, Sumi and Kiyo made small sounds of excitement, trying to encourage the boys, but they just grumbled and walked back to the infirmary.

“You guys are going to regret walking away!” (Y/n) called after them. “Let me know when you are done moping and want to get back to work!”

“Oh my.” Shinobu giggled as she walked in, watching Zenitsu and Inosuke sulk past her.

Shinobu turned to observe the room, pausing at (Y/n). Her eyes flickered down at (Y/n)’s chest and stayed there long enough for the other slayer to notice.

“What?” (Y/n) had grumbled mostly to herself as she followed Shinobu’s gaze downward. Heat shot to her face immediately as she realized she had forgotten to finish buttoning her uniform after Aoi distracted her. It wasn’t showing a lot, just her collar bones and a bit of her chest, but it was still jarring. With a strangled chirp, she quickly buttoned her uniform the rest of the way.

“Oh please, no need to cover up on my account.” Shinobu easily teased, though she felt a bit embarrassed to have been caught staring. She wasn’t entirely sure why her vision gravitated there to begin with.

After a few false starts, (Y/n) finally choked out, “what do you want?”

“I need Kanao and Aoi to help me gather more herbs for spider demon antidotes, not that it’s any of your business.”

“Kochou-sama,” Aoi interjected before (Y/n) could retaliate, “Kanao and I are helping Tanjirou complete his recovery training for the day. I’ve asked (Y/n)-san to fill in for us and she has readily agreed to take our place.”

(Y/n) gave Aoi a look, prompting the younger girl to pinch at (Y/n)’s side discreetly. A message to keep her mouth shut. Kanao simply blinked, twisting on the ball of her foot to dodge another one of Tanjirou’s lunges.

“Very well then, keep up (Y/n). I hope you still remember a thing or two about plants in that thick skull of yours,” Shinobu glided past (Y/n) to step out onto the engawa, “though I wouldn’t be too surprised if all of that knowledge fell out of your head along with your common sense.”

(Y/n) opened her mouth before shutting it firmly closed. Remembering that the younger girls were there and what Aoi had asked of her, she pursed her lips and silently fell into step beside the Hashira, walking with her to the nearby forest where the herbs they needed flourished.

“You recall what Aralia Cordata looks like, correct?” Shinobu asked once they were well within the trees.

“Yeah, kind of hard to miss that shrub if you know what you’re looking for.” (Y/n) groused.

“Fine, fine. Don’t come crying to me if you touch something poisonous.”

“I won’t. Won’t touch anything poisonous I mean. Because I know what I’m doing.”

“Are you telling me that or are you just trying to reassure yourself?”

(Y/n) chose not to reply, instead she split off from Shinobu to one of the shrubs in question and began harvesting a few leafy tendrils from it. Before long, her basket was filled and she turned just in time to see Shinobu turn back to her own bush, pretending to examine one of the tendrils she had cut.

“You know,” (Y/n) sighed as she stood back to her full height, “Aoi only made me come here in her stead because that fight we had last night got back to her. She expects us to make up.”

“Mm, I figured it was something like that,” Shinobu hummed, “I do believe that for once, she is too optimistic in that regard.”

“Well, you never did like admitting when you were wrong,” (Y/n) shrugged, “or saying you’re sorry. It’s comforting to know you haven’t completely destroyed your old personality.”

“And what exactly have I been wrong about, (Y/n)?” Shinobu’s forehead pulsed, “what exactly have I done that requires an apology?”

“You lie to everyone Shinobu. You hide behind plastic smiles pretending to be someone you’re not to fill a void. Saying your fine and shrugging everyone off while holding them at arm's length. When I tried to talk to you, you pushed me away and told me to leave. You were dismissive, cold.”

(Y/n) wrapped her arms around herself as if a chilling wind overcame her. Continuing on, she spoke lowly before Shinobu could speak her denial.

“Not to say that I don’t have my own fault in all of this. Even if I thought you really wanted me gone that night, I should have fought harder for you. I knew you were hurting, but I gave up and left anyway. That is something I’ve thought about a lot in our time apart and I regret it every day because you were worth fighting for.”

(Y/n) blew out a harsh breath of air, running a hand over her scalp she made her closing statement.

“If there was one thing you were right about last night, it’s that I’m a coward and I’m sorry that I didn’t try harder.”

(Y/n) chanced a look at Shinobu’s face. The Hashira’s eyes rounded and her mouth was ever so slightly agape. The silence hung in the air until a sweet wisteria breeze swept through the trees and (Y/n) cleared her throat and looked away.

“So if we could at least pretend to get along for the sake of the girls, I think Aoi would appreciate it.” (Y/n) added before reaching down to collect her basket. A sudden noise, like air being rapidly released through one’s nose, came from behind (Y/n) and she paused in her movements to glance back at Shinobu who was looking down at the leaf she was worrying between her fingers.

“I... apologize, for pushing you away in such a way that made you think you had to exile yourself. It was also cruel of me to say you didn’t care about us when I knew that you thought of this place as your home. I was trying to hurt you back and that was wrong of me. I’m sorry.” Shinobu solemnly said.

Now it was (Y/n)’s turn to stare. Soon, Shinobu leveled a cocky smile and stood with her basket of leaves and a few other miscellaneous plants she gathered.

“Looks like you were wrong about my ability to apologize, hm?” She said.

“Shut up. Don’t ruin the moment.” (Y/n) smiled, reaching for her own basket.

The atmosphere surrounding the girls leaving the forest felt a lot more relaxed than it had upon entering.

***

Days turned into weeks and everything seemed so much better after. It was still awkward at times, but (Y/n) and Shinobu were finding their rhythm again. There was still a little hostility at times, but rather than avoid each other, they talked it out. It was almost frightening how in sync they were when they were working well together.

(Y/n) split her time between helping Shinobu with the slayers turned spiders and helping the younger girls train Tanjirou. She was elated by the boy’s progress as he finally managed to catch Kanao. She had noticed Zenitsu and Inosuke lurking nearby and gestured to the room. Now that they knew recovery training was possible and Tanjirou was leaving them in the dust, the rambunctious boys finally felt the need to catch up with their comrade’s progress.

Before long, the boys were well enough to continue the training on their own and (Y/n) found herself spending more and more time with Shinobu. They would spend hours talking or saying nothing at all, just enjoying each other’s company while they worked away on medicines and poisons.

It didn’t take long for (Y/n) to notice the difference. How Shinobu took up more than her fair share of space in (Y/n)’s thoughts. Even just catching sight of her across the garden was starting to make (Y/n)’s heart leap. On the occasion Shinobu would spot her she’d smile and wave, making (Y/n)’s heart stop all together before kicking into overdrive. The lingering touches and whispered words Shinobu would share with her as they worked in the lab certainly didn’t help either. Just when (Y/n) had thought they finally found their dynamic... Why was it changing again already?

(Y/n) was telling Naho, Sumi and Kiyo the story of how she met Tanjirou and Nezuko while she patted the demon’s head. Ever since Nezuko had woken up, the younger girls, though skittish at first, had grown to be fascinated and even enamored with her. As (Y/n) retold the tale, Nezuko humming happily at her side, Shinobu happened upon the group.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to cut this session short. Tanjirou and the others are ready to get back out on the road now. Something about joining Rengoku-san on his next mission.”

“How did I not here about this plan sooner?” (Y/n) frowned.

“That’s a question best suited for Tanjirou to answer I suppose.” Shinobu replied rather emotionlessly, concerning (Y/n).

So while everyone else was getting ready to leave, (Y/n) pulled Tanjirou aside and asked him what was going on.

“I didn’t tell you we were leaving because I hope you’ll stay and continue to rebuild the relationships you have here, (Y/n)-san. I appreciate everything you’ve done for Nezuko and I, and now I hope to return the favor.” Tanjirou smiled brightly.

“And how do you figure you’re doing that?” (Y/n) crossed her arms.

“Because the longer you get to stay here, the more time you get to spend with Shinobu-san! I can smell that you two want to be together more now than ever.”

“You and your nose I swear,” heat radiated off of (Y/n)’s cheeks, “I think you have intuition and that sense mixed up.”

Tanjirou merely laughed in response.

“So, you guys think you’ll really be okay without me? You’ll stay out of trouble?”

“Don’t worry, (Y/n)-san! We’ll see each other again soon!” Tanjirou beamed.

(Y/n) smiled in return and they rejoined the send off.

“Where did Shinobu-san go?” Tanjirou wondered.

(Y/n) looked around and sure enough, the Pillar was nowhere to be seen.

“She must have had something urgent to attend to,” she answered, making a note to search for her later.

(Y/n) stood out in the garden until the loud group disappeared into the trees and their shouts could no longer be heard over the rustling of the leaves. She took a moment to stare out into the clear blue sky before returning inside.

(Y/n) was going to go look for Shinobu, but she wanted to go to her room to change her uniform first since Zenitsu had snotted all over it in his tearful goodbye.

She opened the door and was surprised to find Shinobu already inside. Shinobu’s back was turned to her as she quickly ran a sleeve over her face. She cleared her throat before facing back with a weak smile.

“(Y/n), forget something?”

“Huh?” (Y/n) blinked, still trying to process why Shinobu might have just been tearing up in her room of all places.

“The others must be ready to leave now. You better pick up what you needed so they don't have to wait too long.”

“They already left, Shinobu.” (Y/n) explained. “I hadn’t planned on going with them.”

“Oh.” Shinobu turned to look outside the window of (Y/n)’s room, hoping the blood that buzzed in her cheeks hadn’t burned its way to her ears as well.

“Shinobu, is something wrong?” (Y/n) tested.

“I just feel a bit silly now I suppose.” Shinobu admitted, bringing a slight smile to (Y/n)’s face with her honesty. “I thought you were gone again.”

“Well, I wouldn’t leave without a proper goodbye, not again.” (Y/n) came up beside Shinobu, intending to give her hand a comforting squeeze when she felt something other than skin instead. Looking down she saw her old butterfly clip in Shinobu’s hand, a quick look at the empty spot at her desk confirmed it.

Shinobu noticed that (Y/n) had noticed and rose the hairclip up between them with a subdued exhale.

“You know, every morning I wonder if it will be the morning you feel comfortable enough to wear this again.” Shinobu said, twirling the insect in her fingers. “When I thought you were gone and I saw this still sitting on your desk, it brought me back to places I’d rather not think about.”

“I’m sorry,” (Y/n) rested her hand over the back of Shinobu’s haori, “I just haven’t felt... I don’t know, worthy of it? I didn’t intend to make you feel bad.”

A small puff of air left Shinobu’s nose at the words. “It isn’t a matter of worth, it’s about whether or not you feel like you belong here again. Whether or not you’re comfortable here.”

“Agree to disagree.” (Y/n) joked. “But if it makes you feel better, I’m glad I get to spend more time here. I’ve been happier in these last few weeks than in the last few years.”

“I’m glad.” Shinobu watched a couple of butterflies flutter against the window before turning back to the garden. “And if you insist on it being a matter of worth, you are more than worthy. It’s not even a question to me.”

“Thank you.” (Y/n) simpered. Her breathing hitched slightly when Shinobu reached up to run her fingers through a loose lock of (Y/n)’s hair.

“Would you let me do your hair?” Shinobu asked softly.

“I’d like that.” (Y/n) whispered.

Shinobu guided (Y/n) back to the desk and sat her down on the chair. She freed (Y/n)’s hair from its plain hair band and quietly ran a brush through her locks with such softness that (Y/n) felt like she might fall asleep. Shinobu gathered the hair in her hands and styled it as she wished, clipping it together with the butterfly hair clip. Shinobu checked over her work, her hands resting on (Y/n)’s shoulders.

“You look perfect.” (Y/n) shivered. She hadn’t expected Shinobu’s lips to be so close to her ear. Neither had she expected the lips to ghost over her cheek in a light kiss.

“I just remembered I have a meeting I need to attend. You’ll help the girls with the infirmary won’t you?”

(Y/n) had almost forgotten how to speak but managed to pull it together. “Of course! I’ll, um, see you when you get back?”

“Perhaps,” Shinobu removed her hands from (Y/n)’s shoulders, “I won’t be back until late though.”

“Okay.”

A shy hug (in slightly awkward positioning due to the gross state of the Kinoe’s uniform, courtesy of Zenitsu) and Shinobu parted ways with (Y/n). (Y/n) met up with the girls in the infirmary and was almost immediately met with a chorus of cheers from Naho, Kiyo and Sumi when they noticed her hair. Aoi and Kanao smiled at the sight as well. A full day of caring for the infirmary made (Y/n) excited to finally get into bed for the night.

She awoke with a scream caught in her throat. Old demons had visited her in her sleep. As she worked to calm her heart, she noticed the light of the full moon streaming through her window. With a few more deep breaths she sat up from her futon and wrapped her haori around her shoulders.

Quietly exiting her room, she padded through the halls until she found her way to the kitchen, a smile pulled at her lips when she found Shinobu already there boiling water.

“Rough night?” Shinobu asked. She was also in her bed wear, her hair hanging loose from its usual style.

“Yes,” (Y/n) moved to stand beside her, “it’s been awhile since the last one I had.”

“How did you deal with that when you were on the road?”

“I would buy little sacks of tea leaves as I went. On bad nights or whenever sleep eluded me I’d boil up some water and try a new blend. Yours was always the best though.”

“I was already going to make you a cup, no need for flattery.”

“No flattery here. Just the truth.” (Y/n) swore, making Shinobu’s smile just a tad fuller.

Shinobu finished preparing the cups and as (Y/n) took hers about ready to leave, the Hashira asked her to wait.

“It’s a full moon tonight. Want to watch the stars for a moment?” Shinobu asked.

“I’d love to.” (Y/n) nodded.

The pair walked outside along the engawa until they had a pleasant view of the full brightness of the moon. They sat along the engawa’s edge, letting their legs dangle as they sipped their tea in the drowning noise of cicada and cricket songs.

(Y/n) chanced a glance at Shinobu in her periphery and marveled at how the moonlight highlighted her skin to the point where she almost appeared to be glowing. The way it reflected off of her eyes was absolutely enchanting. (Y/n) forced her attention back on the sky. Though beautiful it seemed to pale in comparison to the girl next to her.

As her eyes traced over the larger craters of the moon, she thought back on an old saying she had read at one of the inns she had frequented. An old, battered collection of pages that she read through when sleep didn’t come. She had read that particular work quite a few times.

She wondered if perhaps Shinobu had read it too. Though more likely the girl had her face buried in medical texts than anything else. (Y/n) then wondered, if perhaps she could get away with saying it. A confession without consequence, but on the off change that Shinobu was knowledgeable on the old text it could damage the progress they had made in healing their relationship. Perhaps it would be better to just enjoy the moment. (Y/n) took another sip of tea.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

(Y/n) nearly choked on her tea, spluttering and coughing as she tried in vein to stop herself. Finally she managed to calm down only to notice how intently Shinobu was staring at her.

Had she meant that literally? Shinobu was looking at (Y/n) so expectantly, but it could easily just be because she had nearly blacked out from inhaling her tea!

“...It is.” (Y/n) finally answered hiding her face in her cup, looking at neither Shinobu nor the moon.

Another long silence filled by the chirps of insects enjoying the humid night air. (Y/n) had finished her tea and set her cup to her right, her free hand that had been resting between Shinobu and herself was soon covered by a cool and calloused touch.

(Y/n) shyly turned her head to meet the Pillar’s gaze and jumped a bit when her nose unexpectedly brushed against Shinobu’s.

“The moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” Shinobu repeated barely above a whisper. She was not pulling away.

(Y/n) felt her throat dry and she wished she had just one more swallow of tea left. With a slight quiver in her lips, she responded. Doing her best to stay focused on the purple irises before her.

“Yes,” she answered with a slight nod, careful not to bump head with Shinobu, “it is.”

“(Y/n)?” Shinobu called to her, cupping her face gently with the hand that wasn’t already resting on top of (Y/n)’s.

“Y.. yes?”

“Would you kiss me if I asked?” Shinobu murmured, filling (Y/n)’s senses with a dizzying wisteria scent. The slayer didn’t even try to talk herself out of answering such a query as the thumb of Shinobu’s hand swiped the corner of her lips.

“Yes.” She replied, nearly breathless already and her pupils blown wide.

“(Y/n), please kiss me.”

It was all too easy to lean in when they were already sitting so closely. The hand Shinobu had been using to cup her cheek weaved through the hair at the back of (Y/n)’s head, pulling her closer yet as their lips met a bit clumsily in buzzing, mind numbing bliss. (Y/n)’s free hand, the one not currently being clutched in a near death grip over the wooden floor, found home at the back of Shinobu’s neck, lightly massaging the skin there.

They broke apart a few times but the breaths they took were quick and few. Eventually they rested against each other while their abused lungs burned with a hunger for oxygen.

“I have wanted to do that for longer than I’d like to admit.” Shinobu quietly confessed, twisting a lock of (Y/n)’s hair though her fingers.

“Even when we were fighting?” (Y/n) joked, rubbing the back of Shinobu’s neck with her thumb.

“Strangely enough, yes. There were times when I thought about doing it just to shut you up. Though I didn’t dare allow myself to entertain the thought for long.”

(Y/n) chuckled and leaned in to steal another kiss, much less heated then the last few and much quicker as a chorus of surprised gasps made them pull apart and turn around.

“They kissed! They’re kissing!” Sumi cheered while Aoi tried to quiet her and push her back into the mansion.

Sumi and Kiyo emerged from the doorway that Shinobu had left open when she and (Y/n) first came out into the moonlight and were immediately hounding them for confirmation.

“We missed it! Do it again!” Kiyo pleaded.

“It’s like a fairy tale!” Naho cheered.

“You three!” Aoi grumbled with embarrassment. “Kanao, help me out here!”

Kanao looked between Aoi, the rowdy girls, then her sister and senpai, before settling on a nice golf clap of congratulations. This made Aoi lightly smack herself in the face and completely give up on trying to rein in the younger children.

“My, what are you all doing up I wonder?” Shinobu smiled.

“We wanted to watch the moon too Shinobu-sama! Aoi-san even made tea!” Naho clapped.

“But it’s clear you’re, busy, with something and we should go back inside.” Aoi rushed.

“Nonsense, it’s a lovely night. These things are best experienced with those you care about, don’t you all agree?”

“Yes!” Three excited voices readily agreed before wiggling in between the older girls with light blankets and their tea.

Aoi grumbled a half hearted reminder to be careful with the tea before sitting down beside (Y/n) with her own cup. Kanao took a seat beside Shinobu, lightly kicking her feet over the engawa as she started up silently at the moon.

They stayed up for hours, naming constellations, spotting shooting stars, and listening for the occasional loud croak of a far off frog in the thick of the cicadas and crickets.

Dawn wasn’t too far off when Naho, Sumi and Kiyo fell asleep. (Y/n), Shinobu and Kanao each picked one up and returned them to their rooms. Aoi gathered the discarded cups and helped with the doors before bidding the older girls goodnight, Kanao trailing behind her.

“What a lively night. I’m afraid chores will suffer tomorrow.” Shinobu mused as she walked (Y/n) back to her room.

“We’ll figure it out.” (Y/n) said, shyly brushing her hand against Shinobu’s and smiling when Shinobu laced their fingers together.

Once at (Y/n)’s room Shinobu raised (Y/n)’s hand to her lips with a smirk, planting a kiss on battle worn knuckles.

“This is where I leave you. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Why does that feel too long?” (Y/n) laughed quietly.

“I’m not sure, you’d think after four years of bitter silence a couple of hours would be a walk in the park.” Shinobu chuckled in return.

“I guess we just have a lot of time to make up for, huh?”

“Mm, that is a plausible line of reasoning,” Shinobu hummed, a spark growing in her eyes, “might I trouble you for one more kiss before I retire to my room?”

“I was hoping you’d ask.”

(Y/n) hardly got the words out before Shinobu was on her. Four kisses later and they pulled away with matching grins.

“I’ll see you in my dreams.” Shinobu added one last peck before pulling away.

“As will I.”

***

Well into the next morning (Y/n) awoke energized and ready to fight the world. She changed into a fresh uniform and pinned her hair with care, straightening the butterfly pin before rushing out of her room to begin her day with the young woman who had gifted it to her.

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