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satoruhour · 4 months

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a/n: not sure if other countries have rubbish chutes but my country does! i have to get out of my house to go to the common floor chute to throw my rubbish so this is just a little drabble based on that + spider-man!gojo :) / tagging @osaemu @jabamin @shotorus @hyomagiri @mysugu ✶

“yes, yes! i’ll take out the trash—” you’re shouting to your mom when you’re called upon again, the third time within ten minutes to take the trash out. through your one-sided airpods (your left one always dies first), you can hear your mom tying the plastic bag and cleaning up at the sink.

it’s always been her bringing it to the chute outside your house; occasionally, you��d help but routine has never really let you do it, so later when you’re awkwardly tucking your phone into your pocket and listening to charlie burg’s voice through the right airpod, you can’t help the grimace that takes over your features at the wetness all over the trash bag.

“oh, it’s just water; stop being dramatic!” your mom chastises whilst on her nightly cup of water, gulping down the beverage before nodding towards the master bedroom, “i’m gonna go to sleep first.”

you hum in a half-hearted response, a little annoyed that you were interrupted from your lazing around but you still manage a soft goodnight when she disappears into the room and the house falls quiet. apart from the background classical music that plays from the stereo in the room and the laughter of the older kids downstairs outside, you’re living in a world of both music and silence, feeling a little disoriented by the one-sided song.

the walk to the outdoor chute is short in your oversized puffer jacket, flip-flops seemingly slapping against the floor in attempts of waking up all your neighbours beside you but thankfully they don’t seem to mind when you walk past their homes. it’s cold, feeling the snow that beats into the open corridors that lead to the rubbish chute. beside it, there’s a ledge that overlooks the other buildings, too.

with one swift step to the foot lever, the chute opens and you’re dumping the trash bag into the dirty, stained metal device and with a listening ear, you grin when you hear the bag travel through the tunnel and reach the bottom with a big plunk!, not really realising the ledge now held something.

or someone.

“h—”

if your slippers didn’t wake the neighbours up, your scream definitely did when spiderman himself hops off the ledge and leaps forward to place his palm over your mouth. it only fuels your desire to scream even more before you remember that your damn boyfriend is the vigilante that the police are looking for and citizens are rooting for more and more and that calms your racing heart just a bit.

but you still give him his due treatment . .

“what!” smack. “the!” smack. “fuck!” smack. “were!” smack. “you!” smack. “thinking?!” smack.

. . even if the widening of his spider-man mask eyes were adorable.

“sorry! sorry, sorry—” spider-man!gojo only continues to apologise but you can tell he’s enjoying it at least a little, hands gripping your biceps to help you to centre yourself. and as you predicted, once your boyfriend pulls off his mask, there’s a shit-eating grin and a cheeky glint in his eyes.

you muster the most unimpressed face you can — “really? i’m starting to think you’re not really sorry,” your mouth twists when you roll your eyes, getting ready to make a show of heading back into your house before he brings you into his arms. even with a hint of faux protest from you, you’re melting into his embrace, grumbling into his chest.

there’s a hint of wetness along his suit that you feel against your body, probably from the snow outside, but mostly you can feel the cold air against your hair and laboured breaths in your ear.

“i am! i missed you . .” he mumbles, suited fingers gripping your body tight against him like you were an apparition, “i just wanted to, uhm—”

it’s rare that you see your boyfriend having such a hard time with words, but it’s a cute sight when he pulls away and stumbles in his sentences and quickly removes the backpack that he’s webbed to the wall outside. there’s a noise of surprise from you as you watch him crawl outside on all fours and rip the backpack, scrambling to remove something from it.

and you’re so caught off-guard — in his hands are a ruined bouquet of flowers and a mixtape he’s put together for you — that you giggle at the state of it and coo at his downcast expression. he’s looking in the bag, outside, anywhere for what might’ve been the culprit to make the flowers turn out that way until he realises he had bought them a tad bit early and had been swinging around with it the whole day.

“aw . . satoru, they’re still pretty!” you take the gift with grateful hands, something you cherish despite his busy schedule of school and fighting villains. “but maybe don’t go on missions when you’ve got fresh flowers in your bag?”

satoru whines at that as he instinctively webs his backpack again, sulking until you’re leaping forward to give him another tight hug. alas, you would’ve preferred the comfort of his familiar hoodie but you can settle for the spandex of his suit as you squeeze him tight, ignoring the cold air that seeps into your bones.

“thank you, thank you ’toru . .” you smile, pulling away slightly before you take in the state of him. you didn’t have much time before, but now you can fully appreciate his white stark hair that matches the snow outside and the blue of his eyes that mirror his suit.

“it’s the thought that counts right?” he asks awkwardly, scratching his head with the hand that clutches his mask.

you burst out laughing, “yes. yes it indeed is,” you smoothen out his hair, but not before you’re forming an idea, “i’ll— i’ll go put these in water and see if i can salvage them. you, stay here.”

with one peck to his cheek, you’re off back to your house but the bouquet of flowers is only left on your bedside table. in your hands are something else, a scarf and beanie that you take back to the area of the rubbish chute.

it’s not a place you deem romantic, but you’d never pass up a surprise visit from your superhero boyfriend. when you get back he’s removing the fallen petals from his bag, interrupting his activity when you place the scarf around his neck.

“here,” you smile, wrapping it around once and tucking in the ends, “it’s cold.”

satoru looks at you like everything good in the world, a bright grin breaking through when your eyes meet his in the midst of your adjusting.

“just so you know, you might not see this scarf ever again, sweetness.”

you laugh, “why? cause it’s got my scent all over it?”

gojo shrugs and gestures, “partially, but also it might fall off while i’m doing big boy things and swingin’ around in the neighbourhood.”

you push his shoulder lightly and joke, “if my scarf touches the city ground, you’re never hearing from me again.”

and all he does is cross his heart and hold out his hand, “i humbly hold your promise to my heart, your royal highness.”

gently you pull him towards you with the scarf ends, careful not to choke him. there, your lips collide with his glossed ones that manage to stay like that despite the cold weather, while your chapped ones only surprise him. but he swallows the shock soon enough, humming into the kiss softly as he wraps his suited arms around you. you’re so warm, puffer jacket and all and his neck is already heating up from the scarf and his flustered state, enough heat to fuel him through the night.

when oxygen becomes scarce you find that you need to pull away, met again with his pretty eyes that soften just by looking at you, but you both know that he needs to go when the notifications on his phone don’t stop. it’s probably his trackers notifying him about the villain, so you help him put on his mask, making sure the eye holes fit exactly where it needs to go and the sewing lines up with the rest of his suit. the beanie goes on last.

“baby— i . . i just needed to come see you before i fight green goblin,” he mumbles, brushing hair from your face and even with the barrier between the both of you, you know he’s smiling under, “some good luck would suffice, don’t ya think?”

“it would. now, go.” you pat his cheek, pulling away reluctantly as he slings his backpack and you suddenly feel cold again. “stay safe, spider-man.”

satoru cannot wait until he’s in your arms again, so he lunges forward and pulls his mask up just to his nose to give you one last kiss and you indulge him; when your eyes open, he’s already on the ledge.

“merry christmas, baby.” you can see the familiar stunning smile and a soft confession before he’s hopping off and you’re running to it to watch him swing away with a loud, lovesick laugh that sounds a little too much like the star student, gojo satoru, but it doesn’t matter when you know you’re the only one who knows his secret.

part two

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bradshawsbaby · 2 months

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scenes from the kitchen sink

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Author’s Note: A little moment inspired by that hair washing scene from Water Rises. That movie may have stressed me out, but at least it gave us plenty of domestic Lew content!

Warnings: Domestic fluff and the tiniest of innuendos (if you squint).

Smiling, the hem of your sundress brushing against your calves in the late afternoon breeze, you step out onto the back porch in your bare feet, crossing your arms over your chest and resting your head against the door jamb to better admire him.

He’s stripped down to his boxers—that’s the nice thing about it being just you and him for miles on end—and standing under the steady stream of the garden hose he’s holding above his head, blue eyes shut tightly as he allows the icy gush to wash away the dirt and grime of the day. You worry for half a second when you realize he isn’t wearing his glasses—Did he leave them somewhere?—but your shoulders instantly relax when you catch sight of them in your periphery, the sun glinting off them as they lay resting on the ledge of the window box overflowing with the weeds he hasn’t yet gotten the chance to pull.

It’s silly of you to fret about it, you think with an amused curve of your lips. Bob never goes anywhere without his glasses.

His eyes still closed and his back to you, you continue to gaze upon him, struck not for the first time by just how beautiful he is. Water droplets cling to the broad expanse of his freckled back, winking at you as they catch the sunlight. His muscles ripple with every movement, and your stomach clenches as you recall how they’d felt stretched taut beneath your fingertips that morning.

He looks so right here, so at home standing half naked on the grass outside the little two and a half room cabin the two of you have turned into your own personal love nest these past few days. You know he’s glad that he volunteered to come here, to straighten things up at his grandpa’s old fishing cabin that hasn’t been touched in over five years.

The place has no WiFi, no air conditioning, and no hot water. The floorboards creak something awful, the windows rattle at night, and you’re fairly certain there’s a family of mice taking up residence in the walls. Still, even you have to admit that the place has its charms. Charms that are easier to see since you know you’ll be leaving at the end of the week, once you and Bob finish setting a few things to rights around here.

“Thank you for coming here with me,” he whispers to you every night before you fall asleep.

But there’s no place else you’d rather be. You belong wherever he is.

Even if that means showering with a rusty old garden hose.

Which, considering the veritable deathtrap the shower in the cabin is, it does.

Your chest tightens as you watch Bob wash the day’s hard-earned sweat away, your heart filled nearly to bursting with love for him as he bounces on the balls of his feet, gritting his teeth and bearing it as the cold water trickles down his back and snakes a path along his legs, pooling in the dirt at his feet. As soon as he’s able, he’s running to twist the spigot off, winding the hose up in a neat pile before reaching for his glasses.

When he turns his head and catches sight of you standing at the back door, watching him, his face lights up in a way that sets your pulse racing.

No one’s ever looked at you like that except for Bob Floyd.

“C’mere,” you tell him softly, crooking your finger at him to draw him closer.

“I’m all wet,” he murmurs ruefully, stopping short a foot or so away from you.

“I don’t care,” you grin, holding out your arms, which he gladly steps into. You can feel the warmth emanating from his body even as the chilly water droplets seep through the thin cotton of your sundress.

With him still standing in the grass and you at a slightly elevated position in the doorway, you’re able to look down at his wet locks, glistening in the waning afternoon light. You run your fingers through his hair gently, feeling the way it knots even as you try to smooth it down.

Bob makes a valiant effort to hide his wince, but you spot it all the same.

“I know just the thing you need,” you whisper to him, dropping a kiss on his forehead before reaching for his hand and tugging him inside the cabin.

“Where’re you going?” he asks with a laugh as he stands shivering in the small kitchen, his eyebrows rising above the rims of his glasses as you move hurriedly out of the room.

“To get you a towel!” you call back, already in the bedroom and digging through your bags.

When you return a moment later, however, it’s with more than a towel in hand.

Bob watches with a quizzical expression on his handsome face as you set down your shampoo and conditioner bottles next to the kitchen sink on your way to come wrap a warm towel around his shoulders.

“You want to wash off, too, honey?” he asks sweetly, looking down at you as you towel him off. “I can hold the hose up for you.”

“No,” you reply with a smile, shaking your head and meeting his blue eyes. “Not right now.”

“Then what’s that for?” he questions, gesturing towards the bottles of coconut-scented shampoo and conditioner.

“For me to wash your hair, silly,” you tease, booping his nose before dropping the towel to the floor and reaching for a chair from the rickety kitchen table. Before he can so much as open his mouth to reply, you already have it propped against the sink, the back perfectly level with the edge. Bending down, you scoop up the towel you’d been using before and drape it over the back of the chair.

Bob just stares at you in surprise, rubbing the back of his neck as the tips of his ears turn pink. “Aw, sweetheart, you don’t have to—”

“I know,” you cut him off, your eyes twinkling. “I want to. Now sit,” you command, resting your hands on his bare shoulders and gently pushing him down into the seat.

“But you don’t have to use your shampoo,” he protests as he lowers down into the chair. “Isn’t it expensive? My shampoo should be in my—”

“Robert Floyd, I love you, but that 3-in-1 shampoo you travel with is a crime against humanity,” you laugh, making a face to underscore your point. “Probably explains all these knots,” you add, lightly tugging on his sandy brown hair.

“Fair enough.” he mumbles sheepishly in response.

Giggling softly, you bend down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Just relax and enjoy, honey. Let me take care of you.”

Before you can reach to turn the faucet on, Bob snags your wrist and uses the momentum to pull you back down to him, his lips skimming yours as a smile stretches across his face.

“Okay,” he murmurs, pecking the corner of your mouth before you can straighten back up. “Thank you.”

Even after all this time, he still manages to throw you off-kilter in the very best of ways. Your cheeks feel warm and your heart is singing when you pull back and reach for the faucet a second time, managing to turn the water on this time.

It’s just as cold as the water from the hose, but your hands are warm and gentle as they tip his head backwards, thoroughly rinsing his hair and running your fingers through it once again.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have the world’s softest hair?” you query, admiring his glistening locks as they catch the light filtering in through the small window above the sink, the one you had spent about an hour scrubbing the day before.

“Hmm,” he hums softly, his eyes closed and his long fingers laced together across his chest as he loses himself in the feel of your delicate hands in his hair. “Well, you certainly have. On more than one occasion,” he teases, cracking one eye open and gazing up at you.

You grin in response, ducking your head to peck his oh-s0-kissable lips. “At least I’m consistent,” you joke in return, nudging his nose with your own before straightening and reaching for your bottle of coconut milk shampoo.

“That you are,” Bob smiles, bunching up the fabric of your sundress as he raises his hands to grab hold of your waist.

“Don’t distract me,” you giggle, shaking the bottle and squeezing a quarter-sized dollop of shampoo into your palm.

He lets out a soft groan as soon as you run both your hands through his hair, the tropical scent of coconuts filling the distinctly midwestern air. “Feels nice,” he confesses, dropping his hands back down to his chest as he stretches his long legs out in front of him and relaxes further into your touch.

“Good,” you murmur softly, a small furrow appearing between your brows as you concentrate on lathering the shampoo through his honey brown locks. You’d once told him, in a loopy state of exhaustion, that the color of his hair reminded you of Teddy Grahams. To this day, he still finds it hilarious and buys you boxes of the little teddy-shaped crackers whenever you go grocery shopping.

Bob sighs softly as you scratch your fingernails against his scalp, his slightly sunburned chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm that matches the beat of your heart. You can see, as well as feel, the tension oozing out of his body, the stress from a long several days of labor being washed away with the coconut suds. Your hands still for a moment as you simply gaze down at him, suddenly moved beyond words at the total trust and vulnerability in his posture.

You must pause for longer than you realize because suddenly those cerulean eyes are fixed on your face from behind his wire-frame glasses, a small smile crinkling the corners of his mouth.

“Getting tired?” he asks with a playful nudge, letting his fingers run over the soft cotton of your dress.

Shaking your head, you smile sheepishly, your hands getting back to work. “Just admiring the view,” you admit, feeling your skin grow warm at the way he looks at you in response.

“Me, too,” he says in a low voice, turning his head ever so slightly to press a kiss to the inside of your forearm.

You massage his scalp for a few minutes longer, then reach for the faucet once more to rinse his hair out, gently detangling all the knots as you do so. Good thing you grabbed the conditioner as well.

“Conditioner, too? I’m really getting the royal treatment,” he chuckles when he feels you rubbing it through the ends of his hair. It’s gotten a little longer while he’s been on leave. He’ll have to cut it again soon enough, but you’re enjoying it while you can.

“Only the best for you, Lieutenant,” you grin, rewarded for your comment by the adorable blush spreading across his skin.

Bob’s eyes pop open again and he watches you this time as you carefully tend to him, so focused on taking care of him and making him feel good.

“C’mere,” he whispers, the husky tone in his voice turning your knees to melted butter as he reaches up and tugs on your waist, pulling you down into a kiss while your hands still rest in his hair.

You’re not sure if it’s just something in this fresh country air, but his kiss tastes like sunshine and wildflowers.

You can feel the “I love you” mouthed against your skin, his lips closing around your bottom lip as he bites down softly.

It takes every ounce of willpower you possess to pull back, a small laugh bubbling up in your throat when you see his little pout, his mouth still searching for yours.

“Let me finish,” you murmur soothingly, washing the conditioner out of his hair.

You let the frigid water cascade over his head a few minutes longer than necessary, your fingers turning to ice as you continue to card them through his Teddy Graham hair. It's only when you see the goosebumps rising on his shoulders that you finally turn the water off, squeezing the ends of his hair in a gentle fist to release some of the excess droplets.

“All done,” you say, laughing when he sits up and begins shaking his head back and forth, looking suspiciously like his family dog. “Stop, stop!” you scold him good-naturedly, reaching for the towel on the back of the chair.

“My goodness, you are impossible,” you tease, stepping between his legs and draping the towel over his head, scrubbing his hair as he reaches up and links his hands behind your back, trapping you against him.

“And you are beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning forward once you lift the towel and pressing a kiss to the center of your chest, just above the neckline of your dress. If he can feel your heart nearly jump out of your chest, he doesn’t say anything about it.

“There, good as new,” you hum, pleased with your work as you watch the silky soft strands of his freshly washed hair glide through your fingers. “And now you smell like coconuts, too,” you add with a grin.

Bob only smiles in response as he slowly stands up, wrapping you in his arms and kissing you soundly.

He still has his arms around you as he kicks the forgotten towel away and begins walking you backwards out of the kitchen and in the direction of the small bedroom, the one with the rickety full-size bed the two of you have been sharing since your arrival.

“What’re you doing?” you laugh, your bare feet tripping along the creaky floorboards as you let him guide you.

“You took care of me,” he says softly, blue eyes twinkling as he rests his forehead against yours, his hands resting securely on your waist. “Now I’m going to take care of you.”

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #x reader #x female reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #lewis pullman

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myhimbomingi · 2 months

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Shower Ecstacy

✧ pairing: song mingi x afab!reader ✧ theme: established relationship, idol!au ✧ wc: ~1.6k ✧ warnings: smut (18+ mdni), reader is fem forward, fingering (f. receiving), unprotected sex (wrap up ya'll!), creampie, petnames (f. receiving - baby, babe, love), fluff and after care at the end ✧ a/n: this is my first time writing smut! Idk what took over me but I had to get this out of my brain. please be nice ;-; I'm very shy and nervous about posting this but I hope ya'll will like it! maybe even love it? please share your thoughts and any feedback would be amazing so I can write better in the future!

“Babe! I’m gonna shower real quick!” You yell from your boyfriend’s bedroom. You both have been together all day to catch up after a few weeks from being apart. Your boyfriend had many schedules with no breaks in between so today was the first day you both could hang out. He is in the kitchen making some dinner and you just really needed to clean up.

“Sounds good!” He yells back.

His voice brings a small smile to your face. You just can’t help it!

You walk into his bathroom from his bedroom and get all of your things set up placing fresh clothes on the counter with all of your skin care and hair products.

You love his bathroom. You wish he could just ask you to move in so you can use it everyday! It’s a master bath size with heated floors, jacuzzi, towel warmer, and a beautiful walk in shower big enough to probably fit 3 people. The amount of times you both had sex together in that shower was beyond the number you can count on your hands and feet combined.

You take off your clothes, throwing them in a pile in the corner, and turn on the shower making it nice and hot. The best thing about this shower is that it has one of those shower heads that makes it feel like you are showering in the rain. It soothes you so much, releasing all the stress from your body and mind. As you turned it on, you noticed something different. Instead of it being a fixed shower head, it’s now one of those you can take off from the wall. You walk in feeling as if the water is the same but now the shower head has some new features. To your surprise, there is a jet option which does peak your interest.

You look down and bring the shower head between your legs. You jump a bit with sudden sensitivity and pleasure. You try again and hold the strong stream much longer, already feeling the ecstasy flow through your body. You start to whimper, holding on to the wall for balance and placing your foot up on the ledge to be in a better position.

You try your hardest to stay quiet but the water pressure was beyond anything you have ever felt. Your whimpers turned into loud whines. The sound of the water kept drowning out the sound in your head so you thinking you were still being quiet was quite the opposite. You end up sitting on the ledge with your legs spread wide like you are wanting something more than just the water pressure itself.

As you were getting close to your climax, you heard a knock on the bathroom door.

“Babe, are you okay?”

Since you’re so close to hitting your climax, you couldn’t muster up any type of reply. You stayed quiet, trying to hurry before he notices but then the door opens. “Babe?”

He walks over to the shower to check in on you only to see you sitting with your legs far apart, holding the water jet right on your heat.

“Mingi…..” You managed to say, desperately looking into his eyes. You didn't even move the jet away from between your legs, even with being caught like this.

He looks at you amazed, a growing smile on his face. “I can’t believe you’re playing with your present before I was able to show you” Mingi bites his bottom lip, getting turned on almost instantly seeing you so vulnerable like this.

You peak down his body, seeing his bulge getting bigger and thicker. You deeply sigh, moving your eyes back to his. “Come here then and play with me” You managed to say, showing in your face the amount of pleasure you're still giving yourself.

Without a second to spare, Mingi takes his clothes off and gets in the shower with you. He kneels down in front of you and takes the shower head out of your hands. You whine at him for taking away your orgasm that was truly just seconds away from happening. He just grins at you and immediately starts to play with you with his tongue. He runs his hands up your body, squeezing and pulling at your skin with the pleasure he has from just tasting you.

You thrust your hips up, aching for more already and running your fingers through his hair, pulling and tugging to get him even closer.

He sucks on your clit just the way you like it and quickly slides in two of his fingers hitting your g spot instantly. You scream in ecstasy, causing another sly grin to form on Mingi’s lips. He pulls off your clit with a pop and takes out his fingers though he of course continues to rub and tease the inside of your thighs to keep your high. “Why are you stopping?” You whine at him, tears streaming down your face with a desperate expression.

“I need you to turn around” Before you even have a chance to stand up and turn around, Mingi pulls you up and puts you in position. Legs spread apart with your hands on the ledge to balance you. Mingi pumps his dick a few times and teases your cunt with it, moving it back and forth with his hips.

“Here baby, pleasure yourself again. I need you to scream for me and only me” Just by how Mingi says this to you with his deep raspy voice, you know how turned on he is. You know how this is gonna go and you are beyond excited. Out of all the relationships you have been in, Mingi is the only one that makes love to you the way you like it. It’s always fun and you never end up unsatisfied.

You take the shower head from him and align it so it hits your clit just right. You whimper immediately feeling the ecstasy flow through you once again.

Mingi quickly pushes his whole dick inside of you, slamming into your g spot without a moment to spare. “God baby, you feel so good…” He moans and tightens his grip on your hips, already leaving marks and bruises on your skin that you love. “You’re so beautiful like this. Taking in all of me with such ease…” He slides his right hand up your body and to your neck, choking you just enough to add into all the amazing sensations you are feeling. Mingi starts to thrust faster in you, gripping his large hand tighter around your neck, almost reaching his own climax. “Keep playing with yourself baby…don’t move that jet…” His breath his heavy.

Tears continue to fall down your face as you moan your boyfriend’s name. “Mingi…I’m so close…please…” Just as you say this, you hit your climax. You scream, whimper, and moan all at once, your body taking a mind of its own with pleasure as your walls pulsate all around Mingi. You keep the water jet pressure on your clit so you can ride out your climax as long as possible.

“Fu-” Mingi couldn’t even finish the curse under his breath as he reached his climax as well. He removes his hand from your neck and balances himself on your hips, releasing inside of you with sloppy thrusts, trying to continue his feeling of ecstasy.

“Keep going baby. Please keep going…” Mingi groans in desperation, still feeling your walls tighten around him. You push yourself more into him but you just can’t handle your orgasm anymore.

“I can’t…” you drop the shower head and almost collapse with how weak your body is now. Mingi, out of breath, holds on to you before you fall. “It’s okay, love.”

Mingi lifts you up and sits you back on the ledge to relax from your play. “Do you still need to wash up?” He brushes some hair from your face behind your ear as you look up at him and nod, looking totally beat. He smiles with a small chuckle and without hesitation, starts to wash your hair and lather you up.”Sorry if I was a little too rough. I couldn’t help myself seeing you so vulnerable like that”

You giggle and reassure him “No, it was all perfect. I truly didn’t intend for this to happen but…curiosity got the best of me. I’m really glad you ended up walking in”

Mingi smiles at you shyly “You know, I really love you a lot”

“I know you do!” You laugh

“Hey don't laugh! I really do love you. I’m so lucky to have you, y/n.”

You place both your hands on either side of his cheeks and pull him in for a smiley kiss. He kisses you back with a smile as well. “Thank you for being mine” You say quietly on his lips. He just responds with a deeper kiss, pulling away after a few seconds. “Okay, let’s get out of here.” He says happily.

After finishing what you first intended to do in the shower, Mingi wraps your towel around you before getting his own. “I may need to reheat the dinner I made for us” He chuckles

“That’s okay! All part of our fun spontaneous day!” You exclaim as you playfully shake his cute face from his chin. He laughs with you and wraps his arms around your waist.

“So, can I help you do your skin care before we go eat?” He asks as he kisses the top of your head. You look up at him with the biggest smile on your face. “I thought you would never ask!”

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hairmetal666 · 1 year

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It starts in Eddie's second senior year, close to the beginning of the semester. Eddie's in trig (again). He's good at math, but Mundy fucking sucks, always giving Eddie shit for breathing, or his shoes squeaking on the linoleum, or whatever, and he ends up with detention most days. So, he hardly ever shows and can't be bothered to do the homework, even though he knows the answers more often than not.

On this particular day, Mundy is in a bad mood, on Eddie's case way more than normal. In the heat of frustration, Eddie scrawls, "I fucking hate this class" on a scrap of notebook paper, and for reasons he can't begin to explain, leaves it folded on the window ledge. He doesn't think anyone will answer; fully expects the paper to be gone come morning with maybe another detention slip under his belt to show for it. He's a little flabbergasted, the next day, when the note is still there, and loses his mind a little when he sees the words "tell me about it" underneath his first message. He doesn't recognize the handwriting, sloping and a little looped, and for most of the class period, he's too bemused to respond. Right before the final bell rings he scrawls, "trig. You?" He leaves the paper on the ledge again. "Algebra 2 :(" is the response.

They keep it up, just a few words at first, before Eddie accidentally doodles on the page, and the other guy scribbles a hasty formula, the math spectacularly wrong. There's a little arrow leading to the words, "this shit sucks." Eddie re-writes the formula with the correct math, leaving careful notations of how and why. The next day he sees, "Shit, dude, I totally get this now. Mundy should retire and let you take over." Which pleases Eddie down to his core.

The messages get longer, nothing super personal, but complaints about life, math help, Eddie's silly little doodles, bad jokes, the slightly lewd drawings typical of teen boys. Eddie's never had a better attendance record in his life, but there are some days where his notes are left unopened. Most remarkably a couple week period before Thanksgiving, where he goes unanswered for so long he figures whatever thing they had going is done. But after the holiday, the notes start up again, with no acknowledgement they ever stopped. Eddie doesn't bother questioning it.

They keep it up almost all year, and they're definitely friends, even though they're totally anonymous. And that wouldn't have changed, except it's the day before spring break and Eddie's vibrating out of his skin with anticipation of the time off, so he forgets his dnd notebook in Mundy's class. He makes it all the way to Click's before he realizes, then sprints back across the school. He crashes through Mundy's door, tripping a little over his own feet.

"Sorry," he pants. "I just left--" he looks over to his desk, far corner right by the window, and then forgets every word he's ever known because Steve Harrington Steve Harrington King Steve, stares right back at him. And he just. He stops and fucking laughs, because all this time--this whole goddamn year--it's been Harrington he exchanged notes with. And sure, the jock's star has fallen in the last few months, with the breakup with Nancy and all that shit with Hargrove, but it's still Steve Harrington. With his big house and his fancy car and his girls. It's pretty Steve Harrington, the focus of Eddie's most hopeless daydreams.

He has a few seconds to see Harrington's hazel eyes go wide, before Eddie spins on his heel and makes a hasty exit. He absolutely doesn't spend the break thinking about the notes, matching what Harrington wrote with the gossip Eddie heard on him from the past few months.

Once break ends, he doesn't bother going to Mundy's class at all.

The Friday of the first week back, Eddie walks out to his van, only to find King Steve leaning up against it. He's doing that obnoxious thing where he has one leg bent, foot resting against the side panel, arms crossed over his chest, stupid hair falling in glorious cascades around his face. It's ridiculously, unfairly attractive.

"What do you want?" Eddie asks. He opens his front door without fully looking at Steve.

"Can we talk?"

Eddie snorts, "what could you and I possibly have to talk about."

Steve narrows his eyes. It's so bitchy and so fucking cute it makes Eddie queasy. "You know what."

"Enlighten me, Harrington."

"C'mon, man, the notes!"

"What about them?

"Don't be stupid, Munson, you know what. Why'd you stop?"

Eddie pulls a pack of camels and his lighter out of his jacket pocket. "Lost its appeal once I knew who was on the other side. Surprised you even want to keep it up now that you know you've been writing to the freak."

He pointedly ignores the little jolt Harrington gives at that, like the words hurt. Which is pretty rich from Steve Harrington, former #1 bully of Hawkins High.

"I've always known it was you," he says.

"You don't--wait what?"

I've known since, like, the first week, Munson."

"How??"

"What do you mean 'how,' dude, you're always drawing little pentagrams and d20's. Writing the word "Slayer" over and over. Who else would it be?"

And he can't even deal with the fact that Harrington knows what a d20 is (what the fuck) with everything else the other boy just said.

"I gotta go," is his only response. He ducks into his van, slamming the door basically in Harrington's face, before peeling out of the parking lot.

✏️✏️✏️✏️

It's the last day of school. Eddie's failed again. His grades, which weren't great to begin with, took a sharp nosedive after spring break, and he just can't wait to be done with this place for a few months. Harrington hasn't spoken to him again, and Eddie tries his hardest to ignore the other boy (aside from seeing him hanging out with Robin Buckley, a junior and a band geek, besides, and he forcibly has to remind himself that he doesn't care what Harrington does).

He slouches into his last math class of the year, slumping over in his seat. He rests his head on his desk, eyes blankly staring out the window as Mundy talks about what a joy most of them were to have in class. His eyes are unfocused, he contemplates a nap, and then he sees it. The tightly folded piece of paper resting on the window ledge.

Eddie almost doesn't take it. He almost ignores it, but he physically can't stop himself for reaching for it, unfolding it, staring at Harrington's now familiar handwriting.

Hey man, I'm pretty sure I fucked things up with us, and I owe you an apology. I've always known who you were, but you had no idea I was me. Buckley helped me see how that maybe freaked you out a little. I know I used to be a piece of shit. But I'm better--or I'm trying to be. And I'm so fucking sorry for the shit I did to you before and the things I didn't bother to stop. You don't owe me forgiveness, but you should know that I regret all of it. I liked passing notes with you. You made me laugh, and I don't know. It was nice to think someone liked me for reasons other than that I'm Steve Harrington, or whatever. I'd really like it if we could be friends. I get if you can't do that or don't want to.

Whatever the note actually ended with is scribbled out in pen so thick Eddie can't make it out.

All day he thinks about the note, the apology, all of it. Eddie thinks, if he's smart, he won't forgive Harrington. That he knows better than to trust him. But Eddie's never actually been that smart in this way, so he's not totally surprised to find himself walking to Steve's car after the last bell rings.

This time, Eddie's the one with his foot resting on the side panel of Steve's BMW, arms crossed over his chest. He doesn't have to wait long before Harrington makes his way to the car, chestnut hair dancing in the breeze, biceps on display in a short-sleeve polo. A little smile dances across his lips when he spots Eddie.

"So, you gonna tell me how you know what a d20 is, Harrington, or do I have to guess?" Eddie offers the other boy a cigarette.

"Babysitting?

"Babys--Are you serious??" Eddie splutters. Steve Harrington babysits. Steve Harrington babysits little dnd playing nerds. Steve Harrington wants to be his friend.

A full grin spreads across Steve's perfect face and Eddie is absolutely, 100%, fucked.

(Part 2)

(Steddie Notes is now posted in full on ao3!)

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dantakeyoman · 1 year

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Neteyam Saving You As You Fall Off Lo’ak’s Ikran (SFW)

Reader is Fem! Omaticaya

CW: Near Death Experience, angst if you squint, Neteyam is incredibly angry, happy ending, passionate kiss ( this is a little ways into the future so the boys are a little older, but the events of TWOW never happened )

“Lo’ak, we need to head home. It’s past eclipse, and your father will wring both our necks if we do not come back on time,” you tried to reason, your hand shaking as you reached for the next rock on your climb up Ayram Alusìng.

“You worry too much, (y/n),” he smiled, waving you off as he hooked his foot on a nearby stone. “We’re almost there, so we might as well see this through. And once we get up there, we’ll be quick.”

“We will be quick about nothing,” you corrected, tone scolding, “I have already told you this, I have no wish to fly on an ikran. I am only here to ensure your safety.”

You and the youngest Sully son had spent half the day climbing the Hallelujah mountains so you could have a super tall jumping off point with Lo’ak’s ikran.

You tried telling him that you had plans with Neteyam tonight ( you two were going to go stargazing ), but Lo’ak said that he’d just go on his own. But you knew how reckless the boy could be, and didn’t want him to get hurt and be on his own.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be done before you know it,” his promise echoed through your head, now feeling foolish that you even remotely believed him.

And although you have told him many times that just because you are there, does not mean you are going to jump off anything, it seems to go in one ear and out the other.

Like most things for Lo’ak do.

“Oh, my safety?” he scoffed, an amused smirk playing on his lips.

You rolled your eyes, pinching his ankle, hard.

“Ow!” “Just keep climbing.”

He hooked his arm on the ledge, hoisting himself up onto it before rolling over on his stomach, resting his cheek in his palm as he watched you climb up the rocks.

“Ay! Lo’ak! What’re you doing?! Help me up!” you shouted, nervous.

You had been climbing all day, making the muscles in your arms sore and weak. You could feel yourself slightly slipping with every passing second.

“I think I’d rather watch you struggle,” he chuckled, smiling down at you.

He hadn’t noticed this.

Feeling your hand loosing it’s grip, you frantically looked around, trying to find something else to grab hold to.

“Lo’a-!” With a gasp, your hand slipped significantly, causing you to lose your footing and break off the rock that was keeping your feet in place.

“Shit!” Lo’ak exclaimed, quickly grabbing your forearm and pulling you up before you could fall off.

You flopped onto the piece of rock, panting as you stared up at the night sky, almost certain that you saw Eywa for a moment.

“(y/n), are you okay?” he asked, laying down next to you.

You huffed aggressively out your nose, holding up your finger in a gesture you saw Jake do once.

You didn’t know exactly what it meant, but it showed anger towards another, and that’s all you needed.

Lo’ak laughed loudly, standing himself up and looking down at your tired figure with a smile. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He walked over to his ikran, making tsaheylu, before hopping on, turning around to face you.

“Are you coming?”

“Lo’ak. I am going to say this one final time,” you sighed as you stood up, trying to keep your composure.

“I will never,” you took a step closer.

“Ever,” another.

“Fly on an ikran,” you took a large one, poking a finger in his chest.

A smirk quirked on his lips as he hooked his arm around your waist and plopped you on the seat behind him, taking off before you could protest.

The ikran shot into the air quickly, making you scream of fright.

“WHOOOOO!” Lo’ak cheered as it flew straight up, going higher and higher and higher.

You paused your screams, turning around to look down, only to see the forest canopy far, far, far, below.

And with that, you fainted, falling off banshee.

“(Y/N)!” Lo’ak shouted, quickly turning around and diving for you.

The true reason why you wouldn’t fly was now revealed: you were deathly afraid of heights.

The Ayram Alusìng was the highest you’ve ever gone, and even that took an extreme amount of courage to conquer.

Your eyes fluttering open, you realized that you were free-falling, letting out another scream.

Lo’ak was too far above you to catch up, though he was frantically trying, and since you never took part in the Iknimaya, you didn’t have your own ikran to call out to.

This couldn’t be Eywa’s plan for you, to die so violently. You still had much in your life to complete, like your Tsahik training with Mo’at, or your hunting lessons with Neytiri.

Or Neteyam.

Oh, Eywa. You were going to die and never see him again. Never hold him again, never treat his wounds again, never see his smile again.

Tears welled in your eyes as you looked down again, the canopy getting closer and closer with every second.

You curled yourself into a ball, preparing yourself for the impact.

All other noise faded away, the rushing wind, the flap of an ikran, Lo’ak’s shouts, all fell on deaf ears.

“Great Mother, please give Neteyam a life of happiness when I am gone.”

And just as a tree was nearly a hair away, a familiar ikran swooped below you, two, strong arms catching you and holding you in a death grip.

Immediately recognizing the scent of your mate, you started to silently cry, resting your head on his chest.

“Neteyam,” you sniffled, curling into him.

“Mawhey, (y/n). I am here,” he assured, stroking your hair as he pulled the reigns, landing back on the mountain.

Lo’ak landed soon after and Neteyam jumped off the ikran, grabbing his brother off his and punching him in the face.

“Neteyam!” you exclaimed, shocked as you got off the banshee as well.

“Skxawng! What were you thinking?! (y/n) would have been killed had I not come in time!” he shouted, grabbing Lo’ak’s shoulders roughly.

Lo’ak looked ashamed, but inside he was relieved that you were alright.

You were his best friend. And if you died because of him, he could never forgive himself.

“Thank Eywa I felt something horribly wrong when you did not show up at our meeting place,” Neteyam looked at your saddend figure, a flicker of anger in his eyes still reserved for you.

“But you!” he turned back to Lo’ak. “How could you put my mate in danger?!”

“I did not mean to! We were flying as she fainted, but I didn’t notice she fell off until she was already far ahead of me!” Lo’ak feverishly explained.

He hadn’t seen his brother this angry in a long time.

Neteyam sucked his teeth, scoffing as he aggressively let go of Lo’ak.

“Go home. Now,” he order darkly, giving his brother one final glare.

Lo’ak hung his head, turning around and hopping back on his ikran.

He looked to you sadly, in silent apology, and you nodded, giving him the faintest of smiles.

You knew he never meant any harm, this just happened to be an incredibly close call.

As he flew away, Neteyam walked over to you, taking your hands in his.

“As for you,” he started, looking deeply into your eyes. “I heard you in the sky. Your prayer to Eywa.”

You turned way from him, ashamed.

“How can you think that I will ever be happy if you are dead?” his tone offended as he rested his forehead against yours.

“You are my Tsahik, my mate. I could never be truly happy without you by my side.”

“I see you, Neteyam,” you sadly smiled, softly placing your hand on his cheek. “And I am sorry.”

“I see you, (y/n),” he said back, his voice becoming deep as he lifted your chin. “And it is okay.”

And in a flood of emotion, you pulled him in by the nape of his neck, kissing him passionately.

He returned it, tilting his head and pulling you closer by your waist.

You both stayed like this, exchanging your relief before pulling apart, the safety of each other now returned.

And as you looked up at him lovingly, his beautiful smile now rested on his lips.

“Don’t think that kiss has saved you,” he smirked.

You playfully rolled your eyes, your smile growing as well as he scooped you up bridal style, carrying you towards his ikran.

#avatar #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #na'vi x reader #na'vi x y/n #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #atwow x reader #atwow #omitacaya

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so-sures-blog · 3 months

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Icebound

icebound definition: surrounded, obstructed, or covered by ice.

In which Zane uses his element against the Overlord to save the city and his friends. Because it wasn’t about numbers, it was about family.

❄️🩵❄️🩵❄️🩵❄️

It is the end, and Zane knows it.

The Overlord is conquering Ninjago City, webs of gold stringing across buildings like Christmas lights and tying up his friends like flies. They struggle, but it is useless under the might of the Overlord.

Zane flips out of the way of a golden band reaching to ensnare him and lands on a roof. All of his friends are tied up, and only Zane is free. He knows what he has to do. He is the only one who can.

“Support me, friends. For one last time.”

He takes a running leap off the ledge, and Jay flips midair so his feet plant squarely on top of his. Then Cole, Lloyd, Kai, Sensei Garmadon, and Wu.

He soars, flying straight at the Overlord, and grabs onto his golden fangs.

Immediately, he feels its power, and its agony. Pain rips into every crevice of his body; his jolts rattle and shake and his wires spark under his skin.

“Let my friends go!” Zane shouts.

“Go where, Doomed Ninja?” The Overlord sneers. Its eyes, red and hateful, glare into him.

Zane writhes under the immense pain and power. His body cannot handle it, he knows, and he feels himself falling apart under it.

“The Golden Weapons are too powerful for you to behold. Your survival chance is low.”

But Zane isn’t trying to hold them. He’s trying to destroy them.

He thinks of his brothers. He thinks of PIXAL. He thinks of his father. He thinks of an old man with long white hair as pure as snow and ice blue eyes that visited him a long time ago, who had come and left as quickly as winter did and had breathed that power into him because he saw him worthy of it.

“This … isn’t about numbers … It's about family!”

The golden webs holding the Ninja fall and they escape. He can hear them screaming, telling him to let go, and he thanks them for that. Wu and Garmadon grab onto them and yank them back, away from the oncoming destruction.

His core — his heart — started reaching critical mass. Frost began creeping upon the Overlord’s fangs. Something blue and blinding in his heart freezes under his power, and Zane embraces it. It's his power. His choice.

“I am a Nindroid. And Ninja never quit. Go Ninja … go!”

He is the Master of Ice. He was built to protect those who cannot protect themselves. He stands for peace, freedom, and courage in the face of all who threaten Ninjago.

Frostbite burns his skin away; jolt and wires freeze under the cold; until he is left completely bare.

The last glimpse they get of Zane is him surrounded by a blizzard of his own making, bright and beautiful like a supernova. Burning blue and white with the terrible brilliance of his own determined choice.

Zane died; not as a machine, not as a human, not as a tool of anyone or anything — but as himself. Zane died to save the ones he loves.

And woke up as something completely different.

❄️🩵❄️🩵❄️🩵❄️

PIXAL climbs her way up the steep cliff side, careful to place her foot in secure crevices in case she slipped and fell from the icy mountain. Heavy snow blinded her vision as the blizzard whipped around her, but she kept her pace steady and sure.

It had been months since she had left Ninjago City and began her search. Months since Zane’s death and memorial. PIXAL knew, logically, that she should be back there, properly mourning him. But she could not.

He had never given up on her, not when she was under the Overlord’s control or when she was struggling with the newness of emotions.

And that meant she could never give up on him.

When she had first met Zane, she became more than a machine meant to function. He was vital to her, and she was a part of him.

She carried half his heart, and against all logical explanations, she knew he was still alive.

She did not tell the Ninja of her suspicions: the immediate aftermath of Zane’s loss had been devastating. She’d watched as the team fractured, splitting at the seams as they all fled their separate ways, too heartsore and dizzy with grief to do much otherwise. She did not tell Cyrus Borg where she was going either, for she knew if he begged her to stay, she would.

If she had told them she had seen a snowy wraith emerge from the destruction of the frozen, apocalyptic atmosphere on the rooftop, she would have been told she had imagined it due to her grief.

And while she was grieving, she was not imagining it. She is a Nindroid, and she did not have an imagination. PIXAL was built to observe, to analyze, to collect data and gather information. She built theories and hypothesized, not assumed.

So she followed the signs. She kept track of all weather anomalies that happened across Ninjago — sudden snowstorms, cold drops in temperatures that swept through small villages and towns. It led her all across the country until it ended here, with her climbing up the frozen, snow-peaked mountain.

Finally, PIXAL arrived at her destination.

The Ice Temple.

Slowly, she makes her way towards it. Her sensors indicate the temperature dropping the closer she gets. For a normal human, they would have already gotten frostbite without the proper equipment and numb with it, but PIXAL was made of metal. The cold did not bother her.

She peers into the glacial architecture, but does not enter. Or more like, she is unable to. It feels as if there is some sort of force of winter that is keeping her at bay.

“Zane?” Hope finds its way into the desperation of her voice. Freezing winds whip her hair out of its ponytail and against the purple circuits on her cheeks, but she barely notices. “Is that you?”

There’s nothing except for the howling wind, then her eyes catch movement. Slowly, almost like a ghost, a figure starts to come closer, making a shape against the blizzard.

If PIXAL had lungs, all the air would have rushed out of them.

A being made of pure winter floated in front of her. Formed of ice and frost and molded by the wind, it stood there and looked at her. Opaque ice carved the face that has been imprinted in her memory drives, the one she had traveled across the entire world to see again.

It was frozen, and beautiful, and Zane.

Inside her neural drive, alarms were blaring into her system, flashing behind her eyes. Warning: Severe weather alert. Temperature reaching sub-zero levels. Retreat into a warmer climate —

PIXAL shut off the notifications.

“Hello,” she says. Zane does not move. She dares a step closer. “Do you recognize me?”

He says nothing, so PIXAL continues on. It feels like their roles were reversed when they first met: she, the one struck speechless by the other’s beauty. Him, stoic to it all.

“I’m PIXAL, the Primary Interactive X-ternal Assistant Lifeform. I’m a … friend. I came searching for you to bring you home. There are things about you that you don’t understand. That you have yet to discover. I am here to help you remember.”

Zane is quiet, but she senses that he is listening. Something glowing in her chest aches.

“It is alright if you don’t remember me,” PIXAL says. She cannot cry, but is she would she could. She is still new to emotions, and many are overwhelming her: joy and grief and something fierce and pure deep in her heart. “I remember you. And we are still compatible.”

Zane tilts his head and drifts closer. The snow slows its fall, the wind stopping altogether. Snowflakes gently coat her hair. Now that he is closer, she can see the differences that make him unlike the old Zane: he doesn’t have the one dimple on the right side of his cheek, or the small beauty mark on his collarbone, or the tiny scar on his index finger from his shuriken.

But he is still Zane, even as an icy spirit.

She held out a hand. “Your brothers miss you very much. Will you come back with me, Zane?”

He is silent, staring at her. Unlike before, it is impossible to know what he is thinking. She gazes up at him, imploring. His eyes have no irises or pupils, so she is simply staring up at pinpricks of pure blue light.

Slowly, his hand reaches out of her.

BANG!

A loud sound echoes across the ice, and out of nowhere chains of Vengestone come flying out and capture him.

Fear slams into her. “Zane!” PIXAL cries.

Ice races out from his body and across the chains as Zane struggles, but no matter what, he can’t break them.

PIXAL whips around to face the assailant.

A man in his thirties, wrapped in a thick parka to prevent the cold and wearing a red mask. He has shoulder-length brown hair and is wearing a dyed red straw hat, and under it she can see he is hiding an eyepatch.

“What are you doing?” PIXAL shouts. Anger — an emotion she rarely feels — burns through her.

The man lowers his gun and pulls out another one before she can even blink.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Just following orders.”

Before she can question what that means, he fires. A net tangles her limbs together and brings her down against the cold snow. Before she can fight against it, electricity courses through her.

And then everything went black.

#ninjago #ninjago fic #ninjago au #ninjago seabound #reboot au #ninjago pixane #zane julien #pixal borg #ninjago ronin #ninjago overlord #kai smith #jay walker #cole brookstone #lloyd garmadon #ninjago wu #ninjago garmadon

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megalony · 2 months

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Saving Grace

This is a new Eddie Diaz imagine that is going to be split into two parts, requested by a lovely anon. I hope you will all like it, please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Part 2

Summary: After Eddie saves a woman on a call, she becomes very attached to him. He tries to tell her he isn't interested, but it doesn't go well when she decides to taunt him by hurting his wife.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I can't reach."

"Then get out the way and make some room." Sliding off her jacket and removing her helmet, (Y/n) tossed them to the floor before she patted her brother's shoulder to make him move.

She waited for him to wiggle his way back through the window and take a step back into the apartment away from the window. As soon as he was away from the window, (Y/n) dug her hands into the windowsil and pushed up onto her toes to try and lean out.

She took a deep breath before she turned herself around and pushed up until she wedged her upper half through the window and sat down on the ledge. Her body jolted when she felt Evan grab her thighs that were still inside the window and she heard him shout something along the lines of how reckless she was being.

There was a woman who had fallen through her balcony floor and she was wedged in the floor but she was beginning to fall. If she slid down much further she would fall through and she was five stories above the ground.

Eddie, Hen and Chimney were all in the woman's apartment and on the balcony to try and pull her out. While (Y/n) and Evan went into the apartment below to try and see if they could help secure her somehow. But there wasn't a balcony below hers, only a window that (Y/n) was now sitting on the ledge of.

"Be bloody careful! If you fall I swear to God-"

"Keep hold of me and I won't. Eddie lower the harness to me." (Y/n) braced one hand on the unsteady balcony floor above her before she leaned her right hand out near the woman's torso that was through the floor.

They needed to secure the harness around the woman's waist so if she fell, she wouldn't plummet to her death.

(Y/n) waited as one of the team above her slowly shimmied a harness through the hole in the floor. Once it was close enough, (Y/n) pushed up and grabbed it and clipped it around the woman's waist. She kept one hand on the balcony to keep herself stable while her other hand stayed on the woman's lower back when she started to wriggle and slip.

"All secure."

"I- I'm gonna fall!"

"You're not gonna fall, because I'm not letting go of you. Okay?" Eddie took a deep breath to try and steady his heartbeat before he shifted his left leg further out onto the balcony.

He was leaning over the woman, both arms wrapped around her upper chest with her hands scrunched up into his shirt so tightly he was sure she was going to rip through the material. She had done well holding herself up until they got here to free her. Chimney had managed to cut away the broken pieces of wood in the floor that had been cutting into her chest and back and Eddie kept hold of her so she didn't suddenly plummet down.

With his left foot braced near the railing, Eddie tried to balance his weight between his feet so the floor wouldn't give way again and send them both down. He had a harness on for his own safety and one around the woman he was holding up.

When she suddenly started to slip, her face pressed down into Eddie's shoulder and her scream vibrated through his system and made him wince. He forced all his energy and strength into his arms and started to pull up, wrenching her up through the floor before she had chance to fall any further.

He wouldn't let her drop down or dangle on a harness, he had hold of her and he wasn't letting go.

He could feel Hen's hand on his shoulder as he dragged the woman up and moved his hands down to her hips to hold her better when her legs finally came up through the floor.

"Feet down… there we go. Let's get back inside on solid ground, okay?" A breathless smile flooded Eddie's face once she was stood beside him a foot away from the hole in the floor that looked extremely unsafe.

Her hands stayed dug into his shoulders like they had melted into him and she didn't dare lift her head from his shoulder, unable to believe that she was safe again. Eddie stayed perfectly still to lessen the chances of anyone else falling back down and he nodded at Hen who gently took hold of their victim and tried to get her inside.

Everyone needed to move off the balcony and get inside where the floor was less likely to give way on them.

Once she was inside, Eddie reached his hand out for the balcony rail to steady himself and he took a quick peek down through the gap in the floor. His blood ran cold and his jaw locked when he looked down at saw his wife staring up at him with a nervous, half smile.

"I thought I told you to be careful?" He rose a brow when (Y/n) grimaced and looked down at the window before she looked back up at her husband.

"Evan's got me."

"I don't care. Get back inside before you fall out the window." His expression was stern and he leaned down a little more to watch and make sure she got back inside.

Eddie knew for a fact (Y/n) didn't have a harness on because the harnesses and winch were up here. The last thing he wanted was his wife leaning out a fourth story window like that and risking falling down herself.

He watched her wiggle her way back through the window before he leaned u and slowly moved across the balcony and got back inside, too. He wasn't staying out here any longer than necessary. Eddie didn't fancy a piece of wood stuck in his leg or the horrid feeling of dangling on a harness if the floor gave way and sent his stomach up into his throat.

He barely got himself back through the door before the woman had her arms curled around his chest and she suddenly glued herself to his front.

"Thank you!"

"It's okay, all part of the job." He patted her back and stayed still until she finally unhooked herself from him. Eddie wasn't one to go round hugging strangers, even if they were thanking him like this, he didn't know what to do or how to act. He was only comfortable hugging close friends or family.

He worked on undoing the harness around his chest when she stepped back and he took a slow step back himself, trying to keep a bit of distance between them. He felt like he was close enough to feel each shallow breath she took and he didn't like it.

"Still… it's not an everyday thing for me. So thank you for being my saving grace…"

"Eddie." He finished when he noticed her eyes dart down to the nametag on his chest. She could see that couldn't be his first name, there weren't many people who would be called Diaz for their first name.

"I'm Lydia."

***

Darting his eyes across the table, Evan glanced across at his sister as his lips faltered into a frown and he pointed his fork towards her plate. "You not hungry?"

She hadn't eaten anything. They had been rushed off their feet this morning and well into the afternoon. Evan was on his second plate since he had missed breakfast and worked up an appetite. But there was his little sister, sat there not even bothering to eat anything. She had had all of one bite of her cottage pie and it wasn't like her.

None of them skipped a good meal on shift, not with the amount of times they had to forgo dinner in exchange of an emergency.

"The smell… it's making me feel sick." (Y/n) pushed her plate into the middle of the table in case Evan wanted any more.

She let herself sink down into her chair and tilted her head back towards the ceiling as she let her eyes fall closed. She was getting sensitive to smells lately and it didn't matter if it was food she loved and had eaten thousands of times before. Most foods now smelt strong and horrible and (Y/n) couldn't stomach them.

For the last week, she had been sticking to cereal or a plain chicken sandwich, it was all she could manage without throwing it back up again. (Y/n) knew if she got any worse, Eddie would be on red alert and turn into her personal doctor. He didn't like it when she was ill.

"You got it bad, huh?"

(Y/n) peeked one eye open and glanced to her left to look over at Hen, finding the medic smiling softly at her with a knowing look in her eyes.

"This kid's draining me," (Y/n) muttered back, to which Hen chuckled.

Morning sickness wasn't something (Y/n) had been weary of until this month where everything she ate came back with vengeance. It was bad enough having to tell the team that now she had to go on restricted duties for the next few months, without getting sick and feeling even more like a nuisance.

Her hand moved to rub slow circles across her stomach that she stared down at in wonder. She didn't look any different yet. There was only a very slight change to her stomach, not that there would be a big difference yet when she was only four months along. But that meant (Y/n) only had three months left at work before she would be benched to maternity leave.

Whehn she heard Eddie's voice in the background, (Y/n) opened her eyes and did a quick sweep around before she let her head drop forward. Her eyes found her brother and she nudged her plate across to him and swapped them round as if they were kids again, trying to fool their big sister.

Evan had always been a machine. He could eat anything and have two or three helpings so whenever (Y/n) wasn't hungry, they would switch plates so (Y/n) could pretend she finished her dinner and Evan got extra helpings. It was a win win situation that always fooled Maddie, who was more of a parent to them than their true parents were.

"What- oh come on, I've already had two plates." Evan gruffed when (Y/n) took his plate in exchange for hers. That meant he had to eat her plate or Eddie would suspect something was up. Evan never left a full plate.

"Do you wanna cover my shift if he sends me home?" (Y/n) folded her arms over her chest and sat up straighter in her chair, raising a brow at her brother who pulled a face before he looked over at Eddie.

"Baby I know that's not your plate."

Eddie pressed his phone to his ear as he stood behind (Y/n)'s chair and looked down at her with a stern expression. His free hand curled around her shoulder and he pursed his lips when she tilted her head back into his abdomen and tried to smile up at him. He wasn't stupid. Eddie wasn't going to believe that (Y/n) had thrown up breakfast, missed lunch, but somehow managed to clear a full plate of dinner when she wasn't well.

He could hear Hen snickering beside them and Evan grumbled something before he pushed the plate away and leaned back in his seat.

"Alright, here's your mum." Reaching down, Eddie held his phone out to (Y/n), watching her lips curve into a smile when she guessed who was on the other end.

Chris.

(Y/n) gratefully took the phone and got up from the table, glad to get away from the food that was making her stomach churn. She felt Eddie kiss the back of her head and his hand slithered down to her hip before she moved over to the sofa near the tv. And Eddie took her place at the table since he hadn't eaten his dinner yet.

"Hi baby, how was school?" (Y/n) let herself slump down on the sofa and she propped her feet up on the coffee table.

Carla had picked Chris up from school today and whenever they were both at work, Chris always rang them when he got home from school.

She had been in Chris's life for the past four years and from the moment (Y/n) married Eddie, Chris started calling her his mum. He loved her as if she really was his real mum and (Y/n) had taken to Chris from the moment she met him.

"Nice try. Did she eat any of it?" Eddie muttered quietly across at Evan while Hen got up to go clear her plate, leaving he two of them to it.

"Nope." Evan shook his head and placed (Y/n)'s full plate on top of his empty one. He didn't want to get involved. Evan worried about his sisters silently and although he wasn't happy about (Y/n) not eating anything, he couldn't do or say anything. Evan knew that Eddie was the one (Y/n) would listen to.

If Eddie told her to go home because she was ill, she would go and rest. He was the only one who could get through to her and the only one whose worries were enough to make (Y/n) back down.

"And she wonders why I get worried or tell her to stay home." He shook his head as he started to eat. Eddie hadn't been thrilled three days ago when he had to go to Bobby behind (Y/n)'s back and tell him that she needed to go home. She had thrown up so badly she was starting to dehydrate and she couldn't concentrate properly.

But Eddie only had (Y/n)'s wellbeing at heart and if she wasn't well, she shouldn't be on shift, she should be resting at home.

After saying goodbye, (Y/n) hung up and let her head slump to the left against the cushion on the sofa. Only a few hours left and then she and Eddie could go home to Chris.

Her eyes looked down at Eddie's homescreen and her lips curved up into a smile. It was a picture Eddie took a while back of them both lying in bed with (Y/n)'s face buried into his neck and her arms tightly wrapped around his bare chest.

Her thumb hovered over the lock button but just before she pressed it, a notification popped up and his phone vibrated. He had text.

"Eddie…" She pushed up off the sofa and took a deep breath to try and clear her head. But her eyes narrowed and her lips fell into a frown when she saw the message that hovered over the top of the screen.

'Don't worry. I won't tell your wife anything, or what we've been talking about. Lydia. XX'

Her chest tightened and her body shuddered as adrenaline surged through her stomach and bubbled up into her chest.

Had she done something wrong? She couldn't help that her first thought was Eddie talking about her. Had she done something to upset him and make him go to someone to talk about her?

But it wasn't as if they had argued a lot recently. (Y/n) couldn't recall the last time they had argued. Things were going great between her and Eddie, or so she thought. She was pregnant for God's sake, they were expanding their family together. What would be so bad about what Eddie had been talking about with someone to make it so secretive like that? What was so bad that (Y/n) wasn't supposed to know about?

Eddie wasn't the type to cheat. He wasn't like that and he had no reason to go and cheat on (Y/n) when they were happy together. A few months ago they had decided to start trying for a baby and they barely started trying before the first pregnancy test came back positive. Eddie wouldn't cheat on her now.

(Y/n) locked her eyes on her husband, stood in front of the sink as he dried his hands after doing the washing up.

The paranoia in her chest simmered down a little when his eyes locked on her and a smile fluttered across his lips. But when Eddie saw the unease written across her face, his smile started to dampen.

"Everything okay babe?"

"You know, if this is some kind of joke, Eddie, I don't find it very funny."

Eddie's face fell and his chest tightened when (Y/n) pressed his phone into his chest until he reached up to take it from her. No sooner did his hand envelope hers, (Y/n) pulled back and left the kitchen.

Panic bubbled up in Eddie's chest and his face fell as he watched her walk away. What had he done? He hadn't said anything. He left her to talk on the phone with Chris. Eddie had barely even mentioned about her not eating her dinner either, he was still unhappy about that because he was worried about her. Had he started a fight without knowing about it?

His eyes glanced down at his phone and he clicked on the message that popped up, but when he read it, a groan tumbled past his lips and he shoved his phone into his back pocket.

He dropped the teatowel and jogged through the kitchen, following his wife down the stairs as she made her way to the ambulance. (Y/n) would busy herself making sure the ambulance was stocked and ready for whenever they got their next call out.

"Baby- baby stop a minute and talk to me please."

When (Y/n) opened the back doors and went to climb up, she gasped as Eddie's arm pinned around her middle and he pulled her back when she got one foot up on the step. Her hands clenched down on his arm and she groaned when Eddie effortlessly pulled her back and turned her around in his arms so she was facing him.

His hands held her arms and he nudged her back until she sat down on the edge and he could move to stand between her thighs. She tried to fold her arms over her chest but Eddie moved them out the way and cupped her chin in his hand, forcing her to look up at him.

"Have I missed something?" (Y/n) whispered quietly. She felt a desirable urge to tear her head out of Eddie's grip and move to stand up tall in front of him, but she couldn't bring herself to do it.

She stayed sat down and pressed her knees into his thighs to squeeze him between her legs. Her lips pursed and she waited for an answer. He wanted to talk, so they would talk. It would be easier than giving Eddie the cold shoulder for the rest of their shift, and (Y/n) knew she wouldn't do well trying to ignore this. She would only wonder and fester on what that message meant.

"You remember that call out last week… the woman who feel through the balcony?"

"Hm."

"Somehow, she's got my number. I've blocked it, but she keeps messaging me. Here, check the messages, I haven't replied but she isn't giving up so easily." Eddie pulled his phone from his pocket and placed it in (Y/n)'s hand before he moved to crouch down between her thighs.

His hands cupped her upper thighs and started to rub up and down, and he leaned to kiss her knee.

He wasn't lying. Eddie didn't know how Lydia had gotten his number, but she must be changing her sim card or changing her number because he had blocked her but somehow she was still getting through to him. She tried calling him, he wouldn't answer. She texted him and he responded once to ask her politely to stop.

Eddie was married. He had a wife and son and a baby on the way, he didn't want to be talking to another woman and he certainly didn't want her pestering him like this. It was becoming annoying and irritating and Eddie didn't want this to worry (Y/n).

"Why didn't you say anything?" (Y/n) handed the phone back without checking. She trusted Eddie, she didn't want to rummage through his texts and act as if she didn't trust him being faithful.

"Because I blocked her, I thought that was it. I don't want you worrying about this when you're not well. I've got you, Chris and the baby to think about, I'm not stressing over this too."

Eddie had his hands full with his family. He was always worrying about Chris for one reason or another. He worried about (Y/n), and now he was especially worried about her since she was unwell with the baby. Eddie saw no point in stressing about this woman who kept trying to message him. She hadn't done anything strange except for the incessant calls. Eddie was happy to go on ignoring her and pretending this wasn't happening.

"Now come on. I know for a fact Hen stocked the supplies when we got back, I want to see you eat something."

"Eddie-"

"You either eat something or you go home. I'm not taking any chances with you both."

Adrenaline fluttered in (Y/n)'s stomach when Eddie leaned forward and pressed his lips to her stomach over her shirt. She reached out and ran her fingers through his hair before she let him pull her up to her feet.

"Whatever you say," She murmured quietly as she cupped his face in her hands and pulled him close enough for a kiss.

***

Doing her level best to hold her chin up and keep the calm smile on her face, (Y/n) took a deep breath and strode through into the station. She didn't spare a glance towards the brunette on her left as she passed her by and walked in between the truck and the ambulance.

Lydia was back.

(Y/n) knew Eddie hadn't been best pleased when Lydia turned up at the station last week, unannounced and claimed she was there to thank the team for helping her. It settled strange for everyone since she was solely focused on talking to Eddie and not the rest of them.

The quiet word he had with her to politely ask her to stop calling him and not to come by the station again didn't seem to have the desired affect if she was here now.

"Hey, how's my nephew doin'?"

(Y/n) let herself relax when she felt Evan grab her from behind. His hands found her shoulders and he leaned down due to the height difference, hovering his chin near her shoulder while he grinned. He kept hold of her and walked behind her, following (Y/n)'s trail towards the gym since she could see her husband in there.

She had switched her shift around to work this afternoon so she could have the morning off for her appointment. It meant (Y/n) could have a calm morning, take Chris to school and then go to her appointment with the midwife before coming on shift. She got to see her husband for a few hours too before his shift ended and he went to collect Chris.

"Fine, he's at school." A grin found its way onto (Y/n)'s lips and she looked up at Evan who rolled his eyes.

"Good, but I meant the other one." Evan leaned his hand round and prodded (Y/n)'s stomach until she squirmed and pulled away with a laugh.

"The baby might not be a boy, you know, but they're fine." (Y/n) let Evan give her a quick hug before he drifted from her and moved towards the stairs to go up to the annex.

Her sights set ahead of her and she quietly walked into the gym and placed her bag down on the floor beside her. She kept her footsteps light and her movements slow as she trailed further into the room until she was stood directly behind Eddie.

He had his back to her, wearing a pair of loose black shorts and a tight fitted grey vest. His hair was damp with sweat and starting to flop forward near his forehead, but (Y/n)'s sights kept moving back towards his arms. Watching the way they tensed and bulged when he pulled back and how the muscles popped when he thrust his hands forward into the punch bag.

He slammed his gloved fist forward into the bag before he froze when a pair of arms curved beneath his and familiar hands planted in the middle of his chest. His lips curved into a breathless grin when he felt (Y/n)'s lips smother the side of his neck.

Reaching his hand up, Eddie tore the strap free from the glove and dropped it to the floor before doing the same to the other.

He wasted no time turning around in (Y/n)'s arms and curving one arm tight around her waist while his other hand brushed his hair away from his forehead. His grin showed his teeth and he dragged his tongue across his lower lip when (Y/n) lifted her arms to cocoon them around his neck instead.

"There's my girl. How'd it go, hm? All good?" His lips attached to (Y/n)'s jaw as he spoke and he worked his way up to her lips. Hungry as he drank her in and stole each breath she tried to take until her nails dug into the back of his neck, begging for air.

A spark jolted through (Y/n)'s chest as she nudged her nose against his and felt his free hand move down until his palm pressed over her stomach.

Eddie hadn't been too happy to have to work this morning when (Y/n) had her appointment, but he had to so it worked out for him to pick Chris up from school while (Y/n) was at work. He knew they could try and arrange the next appointment so he could go along. He missed most of Shannon's appointments when he was in the army, Eddie didn't want to miss any of (Y/n)'s this time around.

She felt his thumb swipe across her stomach over her shirt and he stole another kiss while he waited patiently for her to tell him how it went.

"All good, although I've got another handful of vitamins and protein sachets to take. The baby's doing good." (Y/n) brought her hand down from his neck to hold his wrist as his fingers continued to skim across her stomach.

To boost her up and make sure she didn't get dehydrated or lose any weight, (Y/n) had been given some more supplements to take and extra vitamins.

"I'd best keep an eye on you, then." His lips pressed to hers again before he moved to graze his teeth along her neck.

"Eddie,"

"Hm?" The way she said his name had shivers shooting down his spine and he tightened his arm around her waist. His other hand finally moved from her stomach to cup the side of her jaw and he pulled back just enough to hear her speak. With his nose still touching hers and his panting breaths mingling against her lips.

"Your girlfriend's here, again."

Confusion burned in Eddie's eyes and he leaned his cheek against the side of (Y/n)'s head to look behind her through the window, across the station floor. She felt the way he growled deep within his chest and his arm pinned her tighter to his chest when his gaze burned onto Lydia at the far end of the station.

Why was she back again? Why couldn't she take the hint and leave them all alone, leave him alone?

All Eddie ever wanted and needed was right here in his arms right now. He didn't want anyone else. He didn't want Lydia always hovering around and trying to get close to him.

"I'll get rid of her." He muttered against the side of her head where he pressed another searing kiss.

He would tell her to leave, in no uncertain terms.

***

Eddie raked his fingers through his hair when he watched the truck slowly reverse into the station. He flagged it down and gave a thumbs up when it was parked as far back as it needed to go. He patted his hand down on the side of the truck as he walked round to the door and waited for the team to hop out.

He and Hen had come back off a small call out to find the rest of the team rushed out for a new call, leaving the second shift in charge.

He leaned his shoulders up against the truck and waited as the door opened and the team started to file out.

A smile formed on his lips when he watched Evan hop down from the truck but he could feel his lips faltering when he noticed the look of panic on Evan's face. He pushed his shoulders off the truck and moved closer to Evan, but he stopped when Evan turned round and reached his arms up into the truck.

Panic ignited in Eddie's chest as he watched (Y/n) stumble down from the truck. Her body was shaking, her arms were cocooned to her chest and her legs almost gave way when she was back on solid ground.

"What happened?" Eddie cast his arms forward and grabbed (Y/n) the moment she was on the floor.

He felt the way she jumped against him, not expecting him to be here the moment they pulled up in the station. (Y/n) let her shoulders slump back into Eddie's chest and when his arms deadlocked around her waist, she let him take her weight as her chin tilted forward into her chest.

"Buck, what happened-"

"We barely got out the truck on the scene and she blacked out. Bobby made her wait in the truck and she threw up."

Evan slammed the truck door shut and leaned back with his hands on his hips and his eyes focused on his sister. They hadn't even put on their helmets on the scene when (Y/n) suddenly went down like a domino. Evan sat her down on the floor for a minute before he helped her up into the truck when Bobby told her to wait this call out.

When they got back, she had thrown up and was reduced to tremors that had started to ease on the way back to the station.

"Did you eat breakfast this morning?" Eddie tightened his arms around (Y/n)'s waist when she arched her lower back into his torso and doubled forward. Her hands clenched down on his arm so tightly she started to draw blood and she felt the world spinning as she threw up onto the floor.

"You're looking at it," Evan muttered quietly and ran his hand across his jaw as his nose crinkled in distaste when his sister threw up by their feet.

"Mi amor, I think it's time you went home."

Leaning forward, Eddie pressed his lips to the back of (Y/n)'s neck and smoothed his thumb across her stomach while he sighed into her neck. She couldn't stay on shift when she was this ill, she needed to go home and rest and try to recover. Staying at work was only going to drain her and make her feel a while lot worse.

"(Y/n)…" Bobby leaned one hand on the side of the truck and looked over at the three of them. "Take the rest of the week off please. The last thing we need is you going to the emergency room."

It was an order, not a request and (Y/n) nodded before she flopped her head back on Eddie's shoulder and let him guide her away from the truck and towards the locker room. She couldn't be this ill on shift again or it was going to cause problems for the team. They would end up driving her to the emergency room and the last thing anyone wanted was (Y/n) getting to that point. She needed to go home and look after herself and get better.

"Let me take you home-"

"No, you're still on shift." She tilted her head to the side and pressed her temple against Eddie's jaw. She wasn't going to make more of a fuss and have Eddie leave shift to take her home. She was okay to drive and then she could collapse on the sofa and go to sleep for the rest of the afternoon.

Plus, this meant (Y/n) could tell Carla she didn't have to collect Chris today or for the rest of the week. She was going to be home, able to look after him every day.

"I don't like the thought of you going home alone, not like this." Eddie didn't want (Y/n) to be on her own when she looked this unwell. He could feel her trembling against him and she was flushed and sweating.

"I'll call you when I get home, and when I've picked Chris up from school. I swear, I'll be fine."

(Y/n) wasn't sure how long she had been asleep.

The moment she got through the door, she called Eddie to say she was home and when she flopped onto the sofa, she could feel her mind starting to shut down almost immediately. The last thing she heard was Eddie's voice on the other end of the phone, asking her to try and eat something and let him know if she did and if she started to feel any worse.

But she didn't know how long she had been asleep for; all she knew was that she didn't wake up because of the alarm she set so she was on time to collect Chris.

She woke up because there was a hand covering her mouth.

Fingers dug bruisingly into her cheek. A rough palm pressed down on her mouth, mashing her lips against her teeth and pushing her head down into the cushion until she was almost imbedded into it.

When her eyes frantically opened and scanned around, she realised it wasn't anyone she knew stood in front of her.

But when she felt the blade of a kitchen knife press against her throat beneath her chin, her body started to shake.

And all she could do was scream.

#eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz imagine #eddie x reader #eddie diaz #imagine #911 imagine #pregnancy #pregnant! reader #evan buckley #bobby nash

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majornaxxx · 6 months

Text

"You're mine you stupid slut."

ღ "Can you write a toxic baby daddy neteyam finding out reader went out flying with her boy bsf and he argues with her just to manhandle her and fuck her?" Req from @lowryv

ღ. I ENTIRELY FORGOT ABOUT THE BABY DADDY PART UNTIL I FINISHED WRITING IT I'M SO SORRY

But this has been the most fun (and most challenging to write) to date! I hope I did the prompt justice! (Please enjoy im sensitive (jk))

ღ Warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, a little dubcon??, ooc Neteyam OOC NETEYAM OMG ,P in V, possessive Neteyam, Name calling @ reader (stupid, bitch, slut, ma,), Name calling @ Neteyam (Daddy), slapping, hair pulling, brief choking, rough blowwjobsss, reader no get to cum :(( (It made sense to me), mentions of Y/n

The view in front of you was beautiful, various shades of orange and pink, the night sky just slightly peeking out from above the clouds. You sailed through the air atop your Ikran, breathing hard from the adrenaline rush you were coming down from. An excited yip sounded behind you, and you turned to see a figure passing you. Large wings flapped gently as the creature dove down to land on a rocky ledge, the rider hopping off and turning towards you. He yelled something and waved his arms above his head in a "come here" motion. You obliged and began your descent, landing beside his Ikran.

When your feet touched the ground, he playfully punched your shoulder with a wide grin. "Y/n, that was incredible what you did!" Atu'ran exclaimed. "It was nothing!" A short-winded laugh left you as you tried your hardest to catch your breath. "Oh, nonsense!" His tail lashed behind him as he described your adventurous escapades from hours before. He excitedly chatted on, his arms and hands creating big gestures as he acted out the scenarios he narrated.

Atu'ran had been your best friend since childhood. Your parents had been best friends long before you were born, the relationship trickling down to the two of you. Today your friend had convinced you to go flying with him all afternoon. "Calm down, Atu'ran." You laughed as you stretched your arms and wrists, grunting at the soreness from holding the harness for hours. "Now, why should I?" He extended his arms above his head and slid down onto the ground with his legs crossed. "I can barely get you out anymore."

"Bullshit.." You'd learned the word from Neteyam, the unfamiliar human syllables rolling off your tongue. "What makes you think that?" His expression changed quickly, and he sheepishly ducked his head. "Well.." He started. "He's been taking up a lot of your time since the announcement that you are to be mated. In all honesty, it's begun to worry me."

For some reason, his statement irked you. "Spending time with my future mate is not a crime, Atu'ran." You said, turning back to your Ikran to fiddle with the harness. "Of course, but you two are attached at the hip. I worry you're, I don't know, losing yourself to him?" You sucked a sharp breath in through your nose and turned back to look at him. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"N-Nothing bad, of course!" He waved his hands in front of him as he looked up at you in an attempt to save his ass. "You're just- You've changed." He was not helping his case. You rested one hand on your Ikran and the other on your hip as you looked down at him. "Neteyam and I spend a perfectly normal amount of time together." Your eyes narrowed.

Atu'ran frowned and slowly stood up, standing an entire foot taller than you. "I just-" He hesitated. "I care about you, Y/n. I only wish for the best for you."

"Atu'ran-" Your voice cut off as the screech of an Ikran echoed around you. As the massive creature soared overhead, you instinctively shielded your face with your arm. The winged creature landed beside you, and the rider quickly dismounted. You barely had a moment to see who was coming towards you before they shoved Atu'ran to the ground. "Back the fuck off!" They barked.

Oh, Eywa. "Neteyam!" You flitted forward to grab onto his arm. "Leave him alone!" He paid you no mind and continued to reprimand your friend. Atu'ran shuffled his way back towards his now growling Ikran as Neteyam yelled. "Neteyam, we can talk about this-" Your future mate promptly cut him off. "If I catch you around Y/n again, I will hang you as an ornament in my hut!"

He suddenly stood on his feet, baring his teeth at the warrior across from him. "Over my dead body." His sudden boost of confidence was seemingly a death wish. "She is MY mate-" "and you have done nothing but puppet her to do whatever you desire." Atu'ran cut him off. It felt like forever as the two men stood, gaze locked on one another, expressions filled with hatred. Atu'rans gaze flicked towards you, silently posing the question, "Whose side were you on?"

"I-" Neteyam turned, his gaze boring into you. His eyes sent shivers down your spine, and you twiddled your thumbs as you lowered your head. "Atu'ran, he IS my mate.." Your friend scoffed, turning his head away. "I expected more from you, Y/n." He said, grabbing onto his Ikran harness and pulling himself onto the beast. "Wait! But-" "I'm done waiting." He scoffed, yipping and sending the Ikran flying into the distance.

After a moment of silence, Neteyam turned to you. "You were late." You could hear irritation in his voice. "W-We just went flying, 'Teyam!" Your voice cracked as you shrunk into yourself. "Just flying my ass." He hissed, snatching your wrist and pulling you towards him. "You know I don't want you around him, Y/n."

"He's my friend!" You exclaimed. His grip tightened around you at your words, causing you to suck a sharp breath through your teeth. "You're mine. Do I need to spell it out for you? You do what I say," His free hand slid into your hair, "When I say it." He suddenly gripped a chunk and pulled you closer to him. "Look at me, Bitch." The action caused you to cry out, eyes squeezing shut. His breath was warm against your face as he growled. "Now." He pulled harder.

Your eyes shot open to stare into his. "Stupid fucking girl.." He chuckled. He let go of your arm, running his fingertips down your sides and stopping at your hips. He suddenly brought his hand down on your ass, firmly grasping the flesh, causing you to gasp. Knees wobbled, and your bottom lip quivered as the action sent electricity between your legs. "Who do you belong to?" He sighed, ducking his head down to your neck and running his tongue across your collarbone.

Your attempt to pronounce his name failed as you trembled. He released your hair, running his hand down your back and stopping to untie your top. "Who do you belong to, Y/n?" He suddenly nipped at the sensitive skin on your neck, causing you to yelp. "I- You! You, Neteyam!" Your hands flew forward to grab onto his shoulders. The loss of his warmth as he drew back caused you to whine, the noise cut off by a slap across your jaw. Before you could grab your face, you were turned around and bent over. Your arms bent behind your back, Neteyam held your wrists with one hand. "Who do you belong to, you stupid slut?!" He snarled, his free hand cracking down on your rear.

"You, Daddy!" You cried out as tears pricked at your eyes. He leaned down, his chest pressing against your back as he began to grind his hips into you. Somewhere along the way, his tewng had ended up by his feet, his bare erection rubbing against your ass. "You need a reminder, Ma. A good fucking reminder."

You shivered as he slipped your top off, reaching around to squeeze your breasts as he continued to grind against you. "Don't move your fucking arms." He demanded and promptly let go of your wrists. After a few moments, your uncomfortably wet tewng was slid down your legs, exposing your pussy to the evening air. You sighed, the noise cut short by a squeal as he slipped his cock between your thighs. You whined as he dragged his length overtop your clit, avoiding properly fucking you. He groaned, rolling his head back as he felt your warmth against his cock. "Fucking wet…" He moaned deeply. Suddenly, he pulled his hips away entirely, causing you to whine at the loss of friction between your thighs. "Nete-" You started, crying out when he suddenly thrust forward, filling you up entirely.

"Fuck!" You whined, catching your bottom lip between your teeth. Neteyams hand found leverage in your hair once more, causing you to yelp as he began to fuck you. His free arm wrapped underneath you as he held you up and against him. Your legs trembled and shook as his cock hit deep inside of you.

His breathing was rackety and hot against your ear with every movement he made against you. Your hands scrambled to find something to grab onto, eventually grasping onto the arm he had put around you. "You wanted this right? You hung around Atu'ran all afternoon just because you wanted to be fucked?" Neteyam hissed. "N-No! 'Teyam, I didn't!" Your voice cracked as you spoke. "Don't lie to me, Y/n. You just wanted to get filled like a stupid fucking slut." Cries and whines escaped your lips with every thrust as he continued to accuse you. His hand released your hair as he wrapped it around the base of your throat. "Talk to me, Ma. Don't just sit there."

A sob escaped your throat as the tears that had been building up cascaded down your cheeks. "I swear! I didn't want Atu'ran!" Your nails dug into his skin as his cock continued to abuse your sopping cunt. "I don't believe you." The hand he had used to squeeze your throat ducked between your legs, his index and middle fingers making circular motions over your clit, the onslaught of new sensations making you quake.

"I guess I'll give you what you want, right? To be fucked stupid? Only Daddy will do it better than that cuck Atu'ran ever could." He snarled into your ear as he continued abusing your poor cunt. "Fuuuuck, you're so much better than Atu'ran, Daddy!" You slurred as your vision became blurry, eyes half-lidded.

"That's right, Ma.." He chuckled as he laid another slap across your ass. "You're mine." Your legs shook as you began to recognize you were close to cumming. Neteyam seemed to realize, his thrusts slowing down to a painfully mundane pace. "N-No! Daddy, please, please let me cum!" You began to whine as he took away your release. "Stupid girl, did you forget?" He slowly pulled his cock outside of the warmth of your pussy and groaned. "You don't cum until I cum."

Your wobbly knees caused you to topple onto the smooth stone, panting and shaking. Neteyam's name spilled from your mouth in mumbled gasps as the disappointment sunk in, knowing you wouldn't get to finish. You sat on your hands and knees as he let you go completely. Carefully observing, he walked to stand in front of you, slowly lowering himself onto his knees. Your head snapped upwards to look at him with teary eyes as he chuckled, sliding his hand under your chin to grasp your face.

He ran his thumb across your bottom lip, and you shivered as his touch sent butterflies to your stomach. "So fucking pretty when you listen to me." He purred before sliding his hand to the top of your head. "Listen to me, and you'll get to cum." He said as he stood. Neteyam wrapped his hand around his cock, giving it a few slow strokes before positioning himself in front of you. He tapped it against your lips a few times before you opened up in an "o" shape.

His grip suddenly grabbed a chunk of your hair as he pulled your head down. You let out a choked squawk as your hands flew up to grab onto his legs for leverage. Neteyam settled into a quick pace as he started to fuck your throat, grinning as you looked up at him with teary eyes. "Hows my cock taste, slut?" The taste of yourself on your tongue from your earlier activities sent warmth between your thighs as you continued to swallow him whole.

He laughed as you answered his question with a muffled "mmhmm..", obviously unable to properly answer due to your throat being stuffed full. He balled his hand into a fist in your hair and began to push your head to meet him in the middle, groaning and allowing his head to roll back. You picked your hand up to cup it between your legs and he yanked you backward, his palm striking across your cheek. "You don't fucking listen." He hissed and grabbed your head with both hands. His palms on either side of your head, he began to thrust into your mouth at a quick pace.

Finally, you were able to tear your head away, gasping for a breath. "'M sorry Daddy.. I'm so sorry Daddy.." You panted as you forced yourself to meet his eyes. "Stupid slut." He snatched you and began to manhandle you as he fucked your mouth, causing you to squeal. "Not getting away from me now, bitch." Neteyam growled.

Nails digging into his thighs, tears fell down your face as he filled your throat. "Drink every fucking drop for Daddy." He grinned as his thrusts became inconsistent, eventually stopping as he came. You let out a muffled hum, Neteyam pulling your mouth off of his cock with popping noise. "Swallow it." You nodded, coughing, but swallowing and opening your mouth to show him nonetheless.

"Good fucking Girl.." He exhaled through his nose with a groan. His hand slid underneath your chin to tilt your head upwards, wide teary eyes meeting his. "Bet you'd spit Atu'ran's out." He chuckled, your face turning pink suddenly remembering your scorned friend. "Stand up." He commanded, and you scrambled to do so, wobbling on your feet. "Get on your Ikran. We're going home." Neteyam reached down and tossed your clothing back at you.

"W-wait, what?" You stuttered. "What about-" "If i'm going to let you cum after what you did, it's going to be in MY bed, Y/n." He spun to look at you, deep eyes boring into you and sending shivers down to your pussy. "Yes Daddy-" You squealed as you began to frantically tie your tewng back on with shaking hands. Neteyam yipped, and the two Ikran who had previously flown off returned to land in front of you. His squawked, and Neteyam laughed with the large winged creature.

He pulled himself onto the back of the beast and turned to face you. "Be quick. I won't let you cum if you aren't back within the hour." The statement made you immediately turn to him to protest, "Wait! But I can't get there in ti-" "Within the hour, Y/n. Unless you want to get Atu'ran to take care of it? I'm sure he knows your body well." He remarked. "N-No! No, I'll be there!"

"An hour." He stated before taking off.

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#avatar #avatar smut #avatar the way of water #avatar x reader #fanfic #smut #avatar neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam #neteyam smut #avatar twow #atwow #atwow neteyam

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whispereons · 6 months

Text

Oracle!Reader 1k Special

Masterlist - Part 1 of Main Series

Warning! This is imposter SAGAU yandere Genshin so expect blood and gore in this chapter.

Sunlight streams down as the birds caw and the faint smell of dew bothers your nose. Keeping your eyes closed you try to ignore it as you curl deeper into your spot. The blades of grass-

…Grass?

Your eyes snap open as you sit up frantically. Towering trees and scattered rocks greet your panicked eyes as you stand up quickly. How the hell did you get here?!

A headache begins to form as memories of the night before come to mind. You vaguely recall exiting Genshin Impact after healing at the Anemo Statue of the Seven and walking in Wolvedom. The title screen came up before the doors of Celestia opened and…

That’s it, nothing else could be recalled beyond that.

Looking around you take a step back for a wider view of the area when something is felt below you. Removing your foot and bending down you pick up the slightly trampled bag and examine it.

Nothing seemed wrong with it so there wasn’t any harm in taking it right? It was basically spotless if you ignore the dirty footprint so maybe it came with you? God you had no fucking clue.

With a sigh you sling it on and examine your surroundings a little closer. Something large and blue caught your eyes and you move a little closer to be sure of what you see.

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of the familiar structure, something you were sure wouldn’t exist on Earth. Emitting a soft blue and hovering in the air was a teleport waypoint.

This must be a dream, a lucid one considering how aware you are. To dream about Genshin out of all the media you’ve consumed is amazing luck. It doesn’t take much thought for you to remember where in Mondstadt this waypoint is.

Lush green grass with sparse shrubs and fallen trees farther away reminds you of the west side. There’s a faint cry of hilichurls even farther to your right is only a little bit worrisome.

There was the weapon domain near there that you recall being the biggest bullshit in history. At least until Dendro was officially released. But either way it basically confirmed that you were near Wolvendom.

And that was pretty close to Dawn Winery where you could travel the short easy path to Mondstadt City. Traveling across Wolvendom would be no problem since it was just a dream.

Turning your heel, you began your trek to the Anemo statue.

Was there a chance that you could run into a wolf? Yeah but as long as you don't get close to Andrius, wasn't that a weird thought, you should be fine.

The lack of pain in your bruised foot and perfectly intact knuckles didn't even cross your mind. The idea of exploring this dream while you could filled your mind like a pleasant haze.

Finches hopped on ledges before flying off as you climbed up. It's not that high due to Mondstadt's easy terrain, it would be much harder if you dreamt of Liyue. Sumeru would have been your personal hell. But it's easy enough to hop down to the darker area of woods.

Trunks lay on the ground with deep scratch marks clear. The high stone slopes that you dared not climb had similar marks to a larger degree.

That was the telltale sign of Andrius lair being nearby. With a cautious glance to the right where the claw marks led, you continued going straight. A beckoning blue beam shined in that direction affirming your choice.

Bushes decorated your path with berries, a rich purple color that caught your eye. Halting for a moment you crouch before it and reach out.

A rubbery small berry was rolled between your fingers as you carefully avoided the spikes. The Wolfhook berry that you farmed often in this area was a small joy you had at seeing it in your eyes.

Without much thought you began to pick multiple Wolfhooks from the bush and drop them into your bag. You stood back up after picking the bush clean and continued walking.

Since going straight to the Archon statue didn't have a path you had to climb through the bushes. Leaves batted your face and you were sure a few were stuck in your hair too.

Not to mention the grass and dirt stains you had gained throughout the hike. Even still, you couldn't stop the beaming smile on your face.

Reality was good and all but you would welcome any form of escapism that you could. To dream of Genshin and becoming a ‘protagonist’ of sorts is the most common form of it.

Well you weren't hoping to defeat dragons, fight hordes of enemies or be the nonverbal emotional support hero for every nation to lug their problems on. That would be no better than reality.

In the midst of your thoughts you mindlessly popped the first Wolfhook berry you picked into your mouth.

Thinking back to the Archon quests you aren't the type of person to just accept bullshit easily. Like the way Ayaka just plainly guilt tripped and played on the travelers sense of justice was just- sweet?

The taste of sweet fruitiness is followed by a bitter aftertaste. In confusion you stop chewing and lick your lips. Hesitantly you swallow the berry and the sensation of something very real sliding down your throat has you taking a sharp breath.

It's real. Everything was real. The leftover bitter juice of the berry clinging to your teeth. Rough bark of the tree that you're leaning on in a whirlwind of emotions.

Even the wolves glaring at you just a couple of feet away are real!

Fuck

Tensing up at the sight of those predators you subtly pat your body. Other than the bag you had no means of defense. Running wasn't an option either, that would simply goad them into chasing you.

Taking a deep breath you keep your body on high alert and eyes on the pack. Visibly there are six but who knows how many are hiding in the shadows?

It would be best to assess how hostile the wolves in front of you are before worrying about any unconfirmed danger. With that thought in mind you stare at the largest wolf that hasn't let its eyes stray from you.

No barring of teeth or pulled back ears. Good starting signs but those could change instantly. It didn't seem happy with your intrusion judging by its restless behavior and thumping of its tail.

The smaller wolves, probably females, didn't seem on guard either. That was the best sign as it meant no pups were around. You would be totally dead if that were the case.

With the chance of being mauled to death lower than you initially thought, you began to take small steps backwards. Whether you were heading in the direction of the Anemo statue or not didn't matter that much anymore.

It's ear twitched at your movements but it made no move to get up. Feeling the slightest bit relieved at that, you shuffle backwards a bit faster.

“Ugh! I fucking hate Mondstadt! Stupid useless hills and these god awful pollen make me sick!”

Freezing at the female voice and the wolf standing up in alert, you cringe at the sight of a purple figure stumbling out of the bushes.

Right between you and the wolf. Maybe you should be happy that if it attacks it'll kill this idiot first.

Before you can bolt away and leave this, probably capable, woman to deal with the mess she stands up sighing in annoyance.

Dusty green hair, a dark mask, and a recognizable bat-like hood made this situation 10x worse. A Cicin Mage just had to intercept the moment you tried to get away.

…Maybe if you run fast enough the wolves and the Cicin Mage could just keep each other busy.

“Oh, oh my Celestia! This-This isn't a dream right?!” The moment she faces you, she falls to her knees. Hands clasp she looks up at you, the mask she wears can't obscure the smile.

“The fuck?” The words slip out of automatically from the sheer bizarreness of the situation. She doesn't even seem to realize the pack of wolves behind her.

“Almighty Creator, I beg of you to forgive me for my insolent words just now. The foul words I spouted should never have irritated your ears.”

Did she literally not hear you curse just moments ago? Actually fuck that, what's more important is how she referred to you.

“Why are you calling me ‘Almighty Creator’ and would you get off the floor?” There's a pause as her smile falters before she stands up.

Was it cool to have an annoying early game enemy kneeling at your feet? Yeah.

Did you want any passerby to misunderstand the situation as you being a Harbinger? Hell no.

“As you wish, your grace. But allow me to ask, is this some sort of test? A testimony to my faith in you?”

Clearly you had two options. Either lie and act the part of the Creator. Or deny it and risk the chance of her attacking you.

Things were still too vague for you to make a decision. Time to stall for time and information.

“I'm not here to answer your questions. Whatever I plan to do is up to me alone. So either answer my questions or scram.”

She's quiet and you want to curse the mask she wears. But you still catch the way her lips twitch downwards before she's smiling wide and bright.

“How silly of you, your grace. Playing dumb and tricking me like this is quite cruel. Don't worry I have something to match your type of jokes.”

Warning bells go off in your head as she takes steps closer towards you. Maybe it was the near mocking tone she used, or the belittling words but the malicious smile she wore was the most off-putting.

You needed to leave.

Taking a step back, your heel turns to sprint away but it was futile. Delusions wielding wild unpredictable elements would always overpower the weak and limited bodies of mortal capacity.

Her lamp glows in time with her teleport to your front. Her gloved one's grasp yours as a Cicin is summoned to her hand.

Trying to yank your hands away only earns a painful jolt of electricity to flow through your hands. Gritting your teeth you resist any shameful urges to show your pain. Using this moment she basically slaps the Cicin into your hands.

Predictably the electro infused bat creature bites your palm forcing you to wretch your body away from the mage.

Holding your now bleeding palm, you bite your lip and cover the wound with your other hand. “Why the fuck did you do that?! I know Cicin Mages aren't the sanest people but for the love of-” Bright scarlett drops roll from your palm and splat onto the grass.

The air seems to shift as her fingers twitch in place. As if hypnotized by your blood she continues to stare at it staining the grass. “Fuck this…” With that last mumble you turn around more than ready to ditch this situation when electro crackles behind you.

Any lingering hesitance was immediately killed and you bolted away from the area. Maniacal laughter follows you as the electro in the air surrounds you like a fog. She was right on your heel, you could sense it.

“Did you think you were slick? Pretending to be our god when you are nothing more than a human? Not even one with elemental powers, what a pitiful existence~”

She teleports in front of you with a lantern in hand that glows as Cicins are summoned to surround her. It’s more than enough time for your fist to connect with her face. Even if your raw strength wasn’t enough, the momentum you had from running gave you whatever strength was needed.

“Fuck off!” The yell is accompanied by her cry of pain as something inevitably gives away under your fist. She staggers backwards and glares at you angrily with tears escaping her mask.

“You rotten imposter! How could anyone, let alone I of all people believe you to be the Creator?!” The Cicins leave her side to chase after you as she twirls in place.

Wolvedom’s environment of hulking trunks, shady areas and raised tree roots were cool in-game but in real life it was nothing more than a pain in the ass. The city is where you felt the most comfortable traversing but you did relatively well in dodging most of the terrain.

Didn’t stop the slight jolts of electro hitting you as the electro cicins were hot on your heels. All you could focus on was the steadily closer beam of blue of the Anemo statue. You would be near Dawn Winery where Diluc, who loathed the Fatui, could deal with this damn Cicin Mage.

But let’s be real, you should have known your luck would run out.

And that’s exactly what happened when you failed to vault over a tree root in time. Curling and rolling on the landing you avoided any severe injuries but the Cicins were too close to not take advantage of the opportunity.

Some continued to shoot electro at you from afar while most took to biting and tearing at your body. Limbs against the agile small bats were useless to swat them away with. It only got you more bites to suffer from.

Humming is heard getting clearer and it only serves to panic your already frazzled mind. With limbs becoming tingly and numb from the electricity, your hands grope the grass around you for something, anything-

Cool metal is felt and your fingers wrap around what you can and swing in a large arc. The long metal weapon works just as intended and flings a good chunk of them away. When your arc ends you can see a few bats stuck on the spikey end of the metal club that twitch and bleed. As if on cue, all the Cicins cower before fleeing.

The Cicin Mage skips over with her lantern glowing and crackling, her lips are pulled into a scowl as she yells at the retreating Cicins. “Get back here! The mist grass hasn’t been completely used up yet! How are you all already leaving?!”

Panting, you try to see past the blood in your vision to gauge how close she is to you. Quickly you use your arm to rub the blood off your face and by the time you pull it off, the mage is already beginning to float.

“You REALLY know how to work me up!” Crazed laughter erupts from her as the lantern glows one last time before shattering in her hands. It’s the catalyst for the electro shield to surround her and a strange symbol above her to begin shooting electricity.

Try as you may, your twitching muscles are slow from the Cicins attacks leaving you slow to get off the ground. She’s just about in reach, you can basically see your death about to play out.

In a flash a gray blur pounces on the Cicin Mage, it’s not hard to make out the pointed ears and furry coat. More wolves emerge from the shadows and follow the first wolf’s lead in attacking. The lightning manages to hit quite a few but with the multiple targets present, it switches too fast for any consistent damage.

“What the-?!” The mage yells in a mix of frustration and confusion. She can only try to float away from the horde in the shield. But the shield flickers and you can see the way her body trembles as the wolves surround her, awaiting for that flimsy shield to break.

And when it does, the bloodbath is horrific.

You’ve seen many people die, usually in painful ways. Thanks to your upbringing and line of work of course. But most of it was done with knives and guns, maybe the occasional poison if stealth was necessary. The sight of sharp teeth digging into screaming flesh was a new experience.

Blood stains the maws of the wolves and flies off to splat on your face. It’s still warm and the feeling of it sticking to your skin is nauseating. Her clothes are ripped as well as her limbs. It’s hard not to gag when you realize that they’re eating her.

The smell of iron gets stronger when all the wolves turn to you. Teeth bared showing strings of flesh clinging to their teeth. You can just barely make out shredded green hair, a half eaten arm and soulless eyes seeping out her mangled head.

Shakily you try and stand up, it’s not the best decision with all the pack staring at you but you could care less about that. Between the realization that everything is real, that you aren’t on Earth, and how you seem to resemble the ‘Creator’.

Nothing seems to make sense and you can only focus on escaping.

A teal symbol appears below the pack of wolves before wind shoots up, throwing the wolves into the air. You stare at the familiar symbol and the relief you feel is immense.

The wolves hit the ground with a whimper before running away. The symbol fades as a figure floats down from far above you.

Venti, the Anemo Archon disguised as his deceased friend, holds the Skyward Harp bow you equipped on him as he floats to the ground in front of you. Cream and teal green colors make up his signature bard outfit as he smiles at you.

Soft nearly girlish features look down at your bloodstained figure as mirth swirls in his teal eyes. With no danger present, the thrum of your heart slows down letting you smile crookedly at him.

“Thank you for the save. I was really about to die there…” Your words trail off at the Anemo infused arrow pointed at your face.

“It’s my pleasure imposter.”

This has to be some sick joke. Once is an incident, twice is a coincidence but did you really want to deny it and risk the third being a pattern? Gulping you stare at Venti’s face, the smile he wears is now lined with something… sinister.

“What do you mean by imposter? I haven’t claimed to be anyone.” A giggle leaves him at your words but the arrow in your face is steady.

“You really are clueless huh? No one is just born with the Creator’s face yet you, a stranger that appeared from nowhere, are.” Frowning you try to make sense of his words. If you visibly looked like this ‘Creator’ then what made the Cicin Mage be sure that you aren’t?

“Just like that Fatui brat, I too believed you to be the Creator. But the more you spoke and the way you acted made me suspicious. I’ll give her some credit for thinking to cut you to see the color of your blood.”

The color? You glance down at your palm, it was bleeding red so was that abnormal for the Creator?

“Then again, if you did bleed gold I would have just immediately killed her for daring to harm our God.” The fuck?! You mean you’re about to die for being born with this face and not bleeding liquid gold?!

“What the fuck man, is it really that serious?” You knew those were the wrong words to say as the arrow comes close enough for you to feel the air whipping around it. His smile disappears and the dark glint in his eyes are more than enough for you to shut up.

“That serious? Oh what a pity it is to exist without knowledge of the Creator. Without even touching how they created every particle of energy, every drop of blood in our bodies and the vast gifts they gifted us I could still lecture you on their divinity. But I’ll keep it short and simple that even you can understand. They help poor outlanders who arrived here to find their sibling and even used that opportunity to take care of the nations they come across. Their touch extends from the most important events to the smallest tasks that even normal people wouldn’t bother with. How could we, how could I, not worship them?”

So this was a cult? It was the only viable explanation as to why both a Fatui member and an Archon like Barbatoes could agree on something. And by extension that means you must be the Creator.

The only one that could ‘control’ the outlander is you as the player. It would explain why you look ‘exactly’ like them, why Venti was wielding the bow you specifically put on him and even why you had appeared in this world with the bag.

But why the hell is there a condition about having gold blood attached to it?

“You seem to fully understand why I’m pointing this arrow at you. Then that means we can end this here and now-”

“Look Venti, I never fucking claimed to be the Creator. And isn’t this lecture hypocritical considering that you’re parading around in the body of your dead friend? I was born with this face, what’s your excuse?”

There’s a full stop with your words hanging out in the open. Like the slightest pressure on a tightrope leaving you to wonder whether you’ll stay balanced or fall off into the air. He blinks at you with a mix of emotions you can’t decipher.

A snort leaves him that evolves into a chuckle before turning into full blown laughter. His head is thrown back as the bow slants down, his laughter doesn’t put you at ease. He finally calms down as you wait patiently on the ground.

Running would be useless against the God of Wind.

“I have to admit, you make a very good point. I suppose the term imposter doesn’t suit you anymore. What is your name? If you have one of course.”

Seems your gamble paid off, Venti wasn’t the type to stay fixated on one rule or another. He’s flexible just like one would expect from the God of Freedom. Whether or not you would risk your name being known as the Creator’s is another risk.

“My name is Y/N.” You can’t offer more personal information than that. The only reason you gave up your name is due to his power to hear through the wind. There’s no telling when you could accidently slip up and have Venti hunt you down due to your lie.

“Well Y/N, it’s your lucky day today! I’ll let you live for succeeding in pointing out my ‘hypocrisy’ as you put it. Mind you, it’s definitely not on the same level. My friend is dead and not the Almighty Creator. But then again you didn’t claim to be the Creator either. In fact, I’m more interested to know how you even came to obtain that information while managing to be oblivious to our God’s presence…”

Well it certainly wasn’t your fault that Genshin fucking hid everything about this. But you needed a way to explain how you know so much while being oblivious to the ‘Creator’.

“I’m just a messenger blessed with visions of their journey.” The words are spoken solemnly but Venti seems intrigued either way.

“My sole purpose is to communicate words and feelings that the traveler couldn’t convey.” Venti frowns at that, and you know it’s not the best set up considering you didn’t even know about the creator a few hours ago. But Venti didn’t give up any super useful information to work with either.

“Oh really? That lets see some proof and maybe then I won’t kill you for claiming to be a servant of the Creator’s.”

“I’m well aware that the Creator hasn’t selected every vision holder to be used by them. Captain Eula for instance hasn’t ever been wielded unlike how often Chief Alchemist Albedo has been. That’s not counting the brief moments on special occasions.”

Venti stays silent at that but his eyes haven’t strayed from you. His dark braids and teal blue tips are gently swayed by the wind as he keeps a firm grip on his bow.

“I recall on more than one occasion how often you would be wielded to group up enemies in combat. Both in the various regions and in the Spiral Abyss in the sea.”

He hums in contemplation at your words. A playful smile graces his face as he leans downwards to ask you. “All this sounds very nice and all but how does this explain your confusion to being mistaken as the creator?”

A pivotal question that decides your fate hangs in the air. There’s no stalling or distractions to help you out. Sheepishly smiling, you stare back at him as a sad tone coats your next words.

“In truth, I’ve never seen the Creator. For a long time I studied those visions as intangible feelings bloomed within me without reason. But one day I was spoken to in the sweetest whisper of how they longed to converse with their people.”

Closing your eyes and clasping your hands, you continued to speak with a wavering voice.

“I offered them myself to be used but I never received an answer. And now I woke up here with no memories of my past outside of the visions. It was only after you spoke about the Creator that I realized my God and your God are one in the same.”

Opening your eyes to smile widely up at the surprised expression on Venti’s face you finished your words.

“I truly am lucky to be blessed with a face so closely resembling the Creator’s. But you shouldn’t mistake me for the Creator. A mere oracle like me pales in comparison to the Creator of All.”

The bow disappears from his hands and he begins to clap. “That would earn you a standing ovation if this was done in front of a crowd!” He laughs but you don’t relax your body, that decision is proven right when his tone lowers dangerously.

“While your story makes sense, I can’t just trust you. Everything can be neatly resolved if I just believe you to be Celestia’s spy and kill you right now.”

An arrow flies past you, grazing your neck before you could even try to move away.

“I’ll stay true to my word and let you live. Feel free to roam my region and claim to be the oracle. I will not stop you but don’t expect me to let you spread false information either.” Your blood is warm as your bloody palm presses on the burning wound in hopes of slowing the bleeding.

“But if I ever hear or find out about you using those blessed features to mimic or claim to be the creator. I will end you.”

The eyes of Barbetos stare you down as wind whips around his body. You could see that it was Barbatoes watching you instead of Venti.

“I’ll hunt you down across the nations and string up your body for the Genesis Cathedral to see.” With those last lingering words, the wind becomes a barrier as a symbol glows on the ground.

You close your eyes instinctively in response to the harsh wind and open them to the sight of a bloody clearing instead.

A weary sigh leaves you before you collapse backwards onto the grass. The sun that shines above you is your only guiding light now that the beacon of blue spelt out pain instead of hope.

The events that you had just gone through make your head spin. Your fingers slid up your face and carefully traced your bloody features.

The Cicin Mage’s bloody mask lays on the ground just a few feet away.

It’s just a temporary measure you tell yourself as you slide the uncomfortable and unfitting mask on. Just until you can find a way to cover your face properly.

------------------------------------

The sight of the Barbatoes statue that glows in your presence is almost nauseating. The blood from that event still sticks to you despite how much you rubbed on it. To your surprise the Statue heals your injuries and leaves you feeling more refreshed than before.

The metal club you hold in your dominant hand seems to weigh less too.

You cast a wary glance towards Dawn Winery before looking at the faint outline of Mondstadt city. There’s no way you could go to Dawn Winery wearing a Fatui mask, Diluc would actually kill you. But could you go to the city wearing this mask in strange bloody clothing either?

Even Springvale seemed like a bad place to travel to in this state.

With a groan you readjust the mask and turn slowly to survey the area. The outline of smoke rising catches your attention. Out of all your options, this was your best bet.

You creeped closer to the smoke's origin and arrived at the edge of a small cliff. Looking down you could see three figures sitting around a campfire. Deciding to lay low for the time being you flatten yourself on the ground with a clear view of the camp.

A purple and black clothed blonde, silver hair poking out of a dark gray hooded figure, and finally a pale haired person that was definitely burning the food. Just those aspects make it clear that you accidentally stumbled on Fischl, Razor and Bennett.

Thoughts of what you went through earlier with Venti come to mind as your finger brushes against the healed skin where Venti left his ‘warning’.

Patiently you watch the trio as they struggle to eat the burnt food. The sun has already begun to set and you think through different plans on how to obtain a change of appearance from the group. The bushes on the opposite side of the camp shake, catching your attention.

From your vantage point, you can clearly make out some treasure hoarders shuffling closer to the camp. Biting your lip, you debate whether to reveal yourself to warn the trio or not. Teal eyes flash in the back of your mind solidifying your choice in not getting involved.

Instead you watch as Razor suddenly stands up and sniffs the air, his greatsword materialized into his hands. Fischl and Bennett stand up in hurry as they look around. Oz, Fischl’s companion manifested by electro is summoned too.

It was pretty entertaining to watch the hoarders freeze in place at the commotion. Razor stalks around the camp on edge as Fischl commands Oz, he obeys by soaring on the border. Bennett to his credit tries to simply sit back down on the lod, more than well aware of his extreme unluckiness.

Except it breaks beneath him making him fall flat onto the ground and get scratched up from the broken pieces. Most likely worried, Razor and Fischl move closer to Bennett as he stands up laughing sheepishly.

Even from far away you can hear his bright sunny voice ring out. “Don’t worry I’m okay!-” The barrel that he uses to help himself up just so happens to be a pyro slime barrel that explodes at the contact.

Cringing you watch Bennett fly through the air and land on the hilichurl structures crushing them. The dust settles and the now exposed treasure hoarders look at FIschl and Razor with that signature ‘deer in headlights’ expression.

The camp goes into chaos to say the least.

The hoarders attack first as Fischl and Razor meet them halfway only using physical attacks. Probably due to the fact that Bennett was on fire and frantically trying to put out the small fire growing around him.

A hoarder slinking in the back of the group raises a vial, the plum colored clothing he wears makes it clear what kind of potion he was about to throw. And just as you were already anticipating, he threw the electro potion in Bennetts direction looking like a direct hit.

A direct hit at the second pyro slime barrel just inches away from Bennett.

The resounding explosion was at least double the previous one as smoke and dust covered the area. You can’t see much as you rub your eyes but there’s a loud thud of something hitting the cooking pot and a follow-up of more smaller scale explosions.

It all calms down as Razor and Fischl cough out the remaining smoke, they’re surprisingly unharmed in the center as Bennett and the hoarders lay passed out. Bennett’s ashy hair is slickened with blood and his mildly charred body catch the duo’s immediate attention.

You can’t help but feel slightly worried at the sight, head trauma was no joke. Perhaps it was your distracted thoughts but you didn’t even realize how close you moved to the edge until ruby red eyes met with yours.

Fischl is shaking Bennett trying to wake him up but you can’t look away from Razor’s red eyes staring into yours.

“Wolf der kleinen worte! Do thou not grasp our ill-fated companions condition?! Quicken thou sloth paced soles and support our misfortunate companion!”

Razor breaks the staring contest to look at Fischl with a pinched expression. “I-I don't know.”

To his credit he does get closer but immediately stops when Fischl or rather Amy yells in frustration.

“Just help me carry Bennett to Springvale!” Razor rushes to Bennetts side and supports most of Bennetts weight. He seems to have completely forgotten about you thankfully.

“Um Mein Fräulein , I believe we have a-'' Oz begins as he returns to the frantic Fischl's side. She's quick to snap at him too. “Silence Oz! Matters unrelated to the wretched and uncouth incident that our companion is suffering from can be properly dealt with at the hour of dark deception.”

You almost feel bad for the crow if he would just stop giving you those damn pointed looks. Just to push his buttons in return, you bring your hand up to wave at him.

His grumpiness at your actions is visible but useless as he's forced to follow Fischl and Razor who rush toward Springvale.

Meticulously you watch their figures get farther and shrouded by the forage before quickly descending from your hiding spot.

Once you land at the now ruined camp, you reach down to the first treasure hoarder and rip off his mask. Discarding the Cicin mask you place the flimsy cloth mask on with a sigh of relief.

The ill fitting and hard mask of the Cicin was not something you wanted to wear longer than needed. Readjusting the thin mask you frown. It seemed this one wasn't much better…

Taking a good long look around you note how the majority of the headers had masks on. The clothes they're wearing are mostly intact and clean too…

Without a shred of guilt or sympathy you stood in the camp wearing new clothes and a reinforced mask covering most of your lower face. Your bag is full of similar clothing, leftover masks, weapons, a meager amount of mora and vials of elemental energy that would no doubt sell for a good amount of mora.

Luck finally shined down on you when one of the treasure hoarders groaned as he sat up. Your blood-stained metal club's spikes glistened in the rising moonlight as you smiled down at him.

“Hey, let's make this quick. Long story short I'm going to need you to answer my questions with every lingering integrity you have or else this club will bludgeon your head like a pinata!”

Whether he knew what a pinata was or not didn't matter. The fear flickering in his eyes only spurred you to grin wider.

---------------

You left Mondstadts gates with slumped shoulders and drained morale. It's been a few days since you woke up in Mondstadt and today you finally had everything set up to live in a different nation.

The perfect layers of a backstory of being an ex treasure hoarder turned adventurer. An oracle to the acolytes who sensed your divinity. So far only Venti has heard about your outlander status.

You intended to keep it that way.

Venti stayed true to his words and never tried to out you in any way. But you just couldn't feel comfortable enough to live in Mondstadt long term, especially with Ventis increasing clinginess.

It was a strange development and he wasn't the only one to display those tendencies but you couldn't keep putting yourself under this stress.

At least in a different nation, you might only have to fear accidentally running into an acolyte. But other than that you would be relatively set for life.

Those encouraging thoughts of the future caused you to stroll with a pep in your step. If you kept up this pace, you'll be passing Dawn Winery before noon.

“Ughh, please…” The hoarse voice of a man is is close by but all you can feel is dread. You don't see him, nor do you look for him. You did NOT want to get caught up in someone else's problem. You had enough of your own to worry about.

That plan is thrown out the window when a weak hand grasps your ankle. Looking down your eyes trail over the pale hand to the bleeding body it belongs to. Yanking yourself out of the deathly tight grip you stare warily at the man.

“Please, your grace, I need your help. I need your mercy…” That title made your heart skip a beat as you glared down at the man.

Did he know? How could he when you sewed so many of their shitty masks to make the durable one you wear now?

Red and pink froth bubbles out of his mouth as he coughs pathetically. His whole body is pale and thin, very unlike the first and only set of treasure hoarders you saw when you first transmigrated.

“I beg of you, show me mercy!” Grimacing at his wails you look around to make sure no one is around. When you look back down at him, you can finally see the injuries he wore.

A long gash down his chest, deep and maggot infested to boot. Legs mangled and oozing something that smells like death itself. Then there's his face, if you can even call it that, burned to hell and back.

With no eyelids, you stare back into his glazed ones as he mumbles endlessly. All you can hear him mutter is pleading for mercy and death.

Seems like he can't actually see you, but would Venti take it the same way? Gritting your teeth you try to move around the dying man when his eyes latch onto your clothes.

“Ha…HAHA!” He laughs hysterically letting his chewed tongue hang out. Repulsed, you stop and glare down at him in confusion.

“Running is useless for us! HAHAHA- THE COLD ALWAYS COMES WITH THE WIND!” Without any warning his laughs become sobs as his hands grope the grass. “They were right! We should have listened to them… Treasure Hoarders like us can't survive in Mondstadt…”

“Ex-treasure hoarder.” You correct automatically more then used to doing so in the city.

Shaking your head with a groan you turn around. Why were you still here with this soon to be corpse?! You had other places to be and better things to do then get caught due to this guy.

Danger. Your body feels an immense sense of danger that has you throwing yourself to the side in an instant. A wave of cold breezes past you at the same time causing frost to grow on the side of your torso.

Seems you were right about Teyvat sending you some sort of signals in these situations. But the way your head hit the ground sent your mind into a haze.

Teyvat sends another warning but the dizziness hasn't subsided enough for you to even move. It would have been useless anyway as the next elemental attack is too broad for you to dodge. Hydro washes over your body before a lighter Cryo attack mixes in.

Now frozen in place attached to the ground, you can't even see who even attacked you. Hands pry you off the ground and flip you over.

Colors and shapes wooz together until the only thing your sight can process is two things. A cryo vision and hydro vision glow before a bag is thrown over your head effectively blocking your vision.

Panic and fear hit you like a ton of bricks at the realization as you're lifted into the air. Flailing your body as much as you can frozen you angrily yell even with the slurring.

“Put me dwown! Lwet me gwo!”

The kidnappers ignore your screams and curses as they leave the area. Judging by the crack you heard, you're sure the treasure hoarder was already put out of his misery.

--------------------------

You're not sure how long it's been since you've been kidnapped. The cryo that drips off your body has mostly melted away now replaced by rope but you've long lost the energy needed to get away.

After being kidnapped by those two vision holders, Kaeya, Rosaria, Barbara, Mona, Mika so many possibilities since they can just travel(this will be in different font), you were handed off to other people. They must have handed you off at least 4 times and any sense of where the fuck you are has been lost.

But the sounds of nature and the faint smell of grass have dropped off. Now replaced by the sound of your captors boots hitting stone pavement. A building, an underground one considering the lack of sunlight and faint color of flames that you pass by.

The bag over your head was annoying but relatively useless if they wanted to keep you completely blind. The only thing you truly lamented is your bound hands. If they were free you could bring up the screen and blindly teleport to the few waypoints you unlocked.

And even if that didn't work, you could just use one of the characters to fight through all the enemies before making your escape-

Your thoughts are cut off by the creaking of a door being swung open. Abruptly you're pushed down into a chair and more ropes are bound tying you to the chair.

When the bag is torn off you're mildly surprised by the completely white room. The only pop of color you could see is the blurry things behind the people in front of you.

Eyes struggling to focus after being cut off for so long you squint at them in front of you.

“You must be the latest person to join our reform program. How lucky you are!”

Something about that happy go lucky tone made your stomach churn. It was eerily reminiscent of when Venti went on that spiel about the ‘Creator’.

Clarity is regained and you frown suspiciously at the two people in front of you.

The man on the left stands in pure white clothing with a black suit underneath that barely pokes out. A cassock if you remember correctly. His short blonde hair and facial features are somewhat familiar.

The woman on the right matches his perfect posture with the same outfit. Again her brown hair in that braid laying over her shoulder gives you an even stronger sense of recognition.

But the smiles they wear are identical and eerie in the most utopian way you can imagine. Adding in their earlier words about being part of the ‘reform’ program makes it clear that this is some cultish shit.

“Extremely lucky considering that they get to witness first hand how we, who were once in their position, are going to help them reform first hand!”

…If that wasn't ominous then you didn't know what was.

Simultaneously they speak with wide smiles and eyes gleaming in a way you can't trust.

“Welcome sinner to the Genesis Cathedral.”

Maybe that alone wouldn't be too big of a deal. Escaping from the depths of a cult was hard but you had powers from being the Creator.

It was the gold weapons faintly stained with blood in the background that sent chills down your spine.

Guess who forgot to post it last night? Sorry everyone but I do hope you enjoy this admittedly long special. It was a lot of fun to write! [Guess who had to spend an extra 10 minutes fixing shit when Tumblr forced me to exit without saving it?] My characterization of Venti is quite different then how most of the SAGAU fics have him (that I read). Mostly cause I feel everyone only sees the SAGAU and his God of Freedom is lost in the mix. It's not super bad but it does feel like a shame. I was enjoying making the camp go to hell with Bennett as his unluckiness is a easy plot device lol. But he is one of my fav characters so no surprise there. The next chapter and onwards will be for the main series as again this was just a 'what if' au. Again this was fun and a nice change of pace but at the end of the day- I have a whole document draft detailing the general events (and certain twists) of the main plot. Thank you all for the support, likes, reblogs (yes I read your tags <3), and comments! Taglist is always open for more, it's kinda like growing a conga line if I had to make a comparison lol

Taglist: If your username is in italics, that means I couldn't tag you! It's going to be in this format from now on since Tumblr has a text limit per paragraph.

@vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @liansh3ng, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @shellofthewell, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zenith, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername

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mphountitled · 4 months

Note

Can I request babysitter Seunghan who’s also a plug ( you don’t have to add the plug part if you don’t want to) hired to watch you because you’re a troublemaker

A/n: I love this man and this request... as always, I kinda just wrote and allowed whatever extra stuff to spring up but I hope you like it

𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐁𝐲 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐰𝐚𝐲 | 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐧

Babysitter!Seunghan x fem!Reader

Warnings: Language, Forbidden Romance, Brothers Best Friend au!, Brief!Mentions of Suicide, Angst, Recreational Drug Use, Enemies to Lovers, Smut (+18), Dom!Seunghan, Sub!Reader, Choking, Rough Sex, Marking, Innocence Kink, Masturbation (fem!rec), Praise Kink, Massive Degradation Kink, Breeding Kink, Dry Humping

The coldness of the heavily chlorinated water hits you first and you distinctly remember thinking: You really should not have finished an entire bowl of pasta before going for a late night dive.

But here you are, and there the ledge is… far from your grasp.

The panic sets in causing a gust of bubbles to rush up from your nose while you cradle the cramp stopping you from swimming all too well. You're trapped in the aquatic abyss, flailing your arms while bouts of water make it inside your system. You're drowning.

Your lungs are thinning.

You need to swim to the ledge but it's too far.

You're getting weaker and weaker.

Your brain has rung the alarm and your mouth opens, subconsciously gulping in a generous bout of pool water. Before you can swallow, however, there's a pair of hands under your armpits dragging you to the ledge.

While you gasp in air, your arms shakily hold onto the concrete.

His voice is far too mellow over the sound of your raucous, sickly sputtering as you fight to find your footing in the shallow end of the pool.

"I don’t know what's worse.” The voice says, breathing heavily, “You trying to kill yourself, or you trying to kill yourself on my watch."

There is nothing but vexation and discontent laced in his baritone.

It looks far too natural on Seunghan's face. It is a look of contempt usually aimed at Sungchan who deserved it, and Eunseok who reciprocated it.

He lifts himself effortlessly out of the pool but not without shooting you an icy, unimpressed glare.

While you were not very often on the receiving end of his disapproval, his glare is nothing new to you. In fact, you're more focused on regaining your breathing pattern.

This glare is nothing new at all.

"You must be evil to kill yourself on my watch," he laughs humorlessly to himself (That earth shattering, blood-rushing row of perfect teeth) as he walks over to the deck chair adjacent to the neon-lit swimming pool.

"Couldn't you have found some other night to do it?” He asks as he angrily pats down at his drenched shorts with a towel. Seunghan mindlessly hooks his fingers into the hem of his soaked shirt, and you fight the urge to look away as he peels the material off of him.

Your weak arms finally garner enough strength to push yourself out of the pool. Thousands of beads of water that could have been the weapon of your destruction eases down your soft body, before sinking into the generic one piece swimming costume you had slipped into.

You're not sure why you feel self conscious right now but you do. How dare your self consciousness decide to rear its ugly, insecure head in the presence of your adversary?

"Who the fuck let in?" You ask in a dangerous octave, despite already knowing the answer. "I thought I told Sungchan to stop letting his strange boyfriends into our crib."

Once you've recovered from the overall shock of nearly dying (at perhaps the sight of a shirtless Seunghan) you manage to glare perfect daggers up at him.

Seunghan releases a humourless chuckle as he plants his butt onto the deck chair, “Down tiger,” he teases before rolling his dark eyes into the back of his head. His earrings glint under the moonlight as he pushes a hand through his jet black hair.

"Of course your brain can't comprehend this as a moment for you to be grateful." He looks up at the night sky, releasing a sigh to the constellations before patting his hand down on the towel in search of his prized tiny metal container.

"You really do stress me out," he whispers in complete awe.

“You can't smoke here,” You try helplessly.

“We're outside.” He says, before sighing heavily with his eyelids heavy, “You don't own the outside.”

You pad over the other presiding deck chair, in quick succession. Hoping you aren't in his presence for any longer than you have to be.

He curses under his breath as he bends over his open metal tin, gliding his fingers over what you knew was a significant amount of weed.

Another byproduct of Sungchan and Seunghan's friendship.

You feel zero empathy for his complaints, choosing instead to roll your eyes to the back of your head as he continues, "Now it's gonna make for a sucky roll. Thanks."

"Your suicide water got all over the paper." He says monotonously.

You're quick to wrap the towel around your front, terrified of the very real possibility that any other one of Sungchan's raucous frat boyfriends might pop up around your parents' villa.

If Sungchan was asking for the family villa, then he had nothing but partying on his mind.

You knew absolutely nothing good could come from your adoptive brother proposing a 'relaxing weekend getaway' to your parents before the academic year began. You saw past the doe eyes and over the exaggerated poutiness.

Your parents, however, were not completely unaware of Sungchan's intentions.

“That's fine,” your mother had said. "But take your sister with you," Ignoring your fierce protests, your mom looked squarely into Sungchan's pleading eyes, challenging him to talk back to her.

"Those bags under your eyes are only going to grow darker, honey" Your mother had chided you, "You're going."

Something that perhaps doubled your complaints was when your mother suddenly exclaimed, “I'd feel better if you take that Hong Seunghan with you as well,” she shook her head before smiling dreamily, “He has been such a good influence on you, Sungchan.” And you had resumed your dinner in a troubled silence while your mom piloted the conversations.

She should've just left you at the damn orphanage…

You understood the trip for what it really was. A chance for Sungchan and his close-knit group of degenerates to get high or drunk or both.

"I'm so very sorry that my drowning killed your vibe." You shoot at Seunghan before gathering up your belongings up from the deck chair. Instead of turning back to catch a glimpse of Seunghan swiping his tongue over the rolling paper, you evade all eye contact.

You sigh as you walk past him, hell bent on making your way inside the villa and locking yourself in your bedroom for all time. Never turning around, you firmly say, "I definitely don't have time for this-"

"I appreciate the apology." He says, nodding in gross sincerity, "I'd just prefer it if you don't let this suicide shit happen again? You fucked with my ritual." He looks up at your retreating frame, smiling boyishly before lighting the end of his blunt.

You bristle in the knowledge that Seunghan was once again put on babysitting duty.

While Seunghan blows out wispy clouds of smoke, he interrupts, "-Is what I said when I found out I'm stuck here while your brother bones one of the other island girls."

"I don't need a babysitter." You hiss while your fingers curl around the thin glass panels of the sliding door. "I haven't needed one for 15 fucking years-"

"-She says, after having just attempted to drown herself." He snorts and he pulls back and concludes with, "Evidently, Princess, you kinda do." You hated the satisfaction in his tone. You abhorred how absolutely satiated he appeared when your blood ran hot and your limbs shook with ferocity.

You wished he died...

You knew your aberration extended to your brother as well, for sinking his claws into your crush before you could ever work up the courage to talk to him. 10 years in and that big brained, sensitive tree of a boy you jad initially fallen in love with is gone.

Or perhaps you wished he had never met Sungchan.

Lost in a vague reanimation of your brother.

You wished to hurt him as much as he hurt you everyday he spent at your brother's side and so, without breaking eye contact, you quietly and succinctly said, "Yeah well, you're just his lap dog that he sends to babysit his little sister-"

Seunghan only laughs unperturbed, "Sick burn from the basket case-" and you quickly shoot back.

There is complete silence between the two of you. A silence that hangs like wet washing.

"You're not even really a part of them," you snicker, "Where do you think they all are right now? Probably at a party by the beach, doing lines of coke down a model's sternum." The worse flow from your lips in quick succession. "All of them just fucking relieved to get rid of overbearing, burden Seunghan." You say, "Seunghan the prude. How utterly sad."

"I'm not a prude." He says quietly, hands stilling on his lap. You're utterly, mystified to find that you've struck some sort of nerve.

Perfect…

"It's the 21st century, Seunghan. It's okay to be a virgin," you nod condescendingly. "It may not be cool but it's definitely okay!" You exclaim before turning on your heels, letting the big open mansion swallow you whole, while you hum in utter glee.

Before you're out of earshot, his voice reaches your ears. They perk when you hear a very low, very deep

"Fucking bitch,"

-which not only has you smiling wider... but it has a deep warmth running hot in your core.

You plop yourself down on your bed, before staring up at the beams in complete and utter silence. Almost instinctively, as if you had no say in the matter at all, your short manicured nails trail down your belly before stopping right above your pubic bone.

You're peeling your clothes off of you the very second you make it back into your room, having climbed the elaborate wooden staircase two at a time. His words seem to have rocked you to your very being and your stomach does fiery somersaults as his words replay like a broken record within the confines of your brain. For 3 whole years since you've pledged to forgo this childish crush on him and it's as though your feelings have only doubled in magnitude.

A thick wad of saliva fights to make its way down your throat as your eyes finally give in to the darkness by fluttering shut.

Who does he think he is, your mind echoes wildly.

Who is he to think he can talk to you however he pleases?

It enrages you to imagine Sungchan has given him this right, and it enrages you further to imagine yourself growing impossibly hotter at his tense and crude tone of degradation. It was a feat to get Seunghan to swear, the boy was something akin to a turtle. Never without its shell. Never without the threat of sinking back into himself when things got uncomfortable.

‘Fucking bitch’

You finally accepted the knots in your stomach for what it was before plunging your hands in between your open legs.

You'd always prized yourself on your self control but that is a fickle thing as you press your palm to your slick and sticky cunt. You spread your arousal all over your inner thighs as your back arches off the mattress.

“Fuck-” you hiss into the quiet night air, as you picture a very distinct smile from a very distinct ravenlike boy, hovering above you. You imagine him watching you try helplessly to please yourself by withholding his own ministrations as some sort of punishment. You swear you can feel his lips brush against your ear and you can hear the soft tinbre of his deep voice as he whispers, “You're such a fucking slut, you know that?”

Your desperation tumbles out of your mouth, and you vaguely are aware that you're too far gone, trapped in the web of the fantasies that you've woven.

“F-Fuck, Seunghan- I'm close- ” And the embarrassment of crying out into an empty room, about a boy who could not give less of a fuck whether you live or died, is suddenly, made very fucking real, very fucking quickly when you hear-

“Hey… So, I just wanted to apologise-”

Your thighs clamp shut around the hand that was coaxing you to orgasm, while your knees simultaneously lock around you.

Seunghan stands there in your open doorway, sans blunt or shirt, with his plump pink lips hanging open in stark shock.

How enamoured by your own fantasy you had been, to not realise that you had left the door to your room wide open. How deep had you sunken into your own lust not to have noticed the boy standing at the door?

“Oh my fucking God-” your heart sinks into the very pits of your stomach as you rush to pull your pillow over your naked frame. Every nauseating emotion: fear, pity, acrimony, embarrassment, antipathy and worry, wash over you like a volcanic wave of molten lava. There are tears stinging your eyes as you move to rush over to the door. Before you're able to move however, Seunghan's voice is very stern and very quiet when he says, “Lay back down,”

There is a ringing in your ear that is spurred on by your erratic heartbeat and the wave of emotions running through your mind…

“W-What?” You truly felt as though you're unable to talk, unable to form any coherent response that might do this moment justice.

Here he is, the boy you have quite literally been pining over since your brother had been parading him around you.

Here he is, stepping over the threshold of your bedroom, but not before sending one gaze behind his back.

“You heard me,” Seunghan says before swinging your door shut using his back, so as never to remove his eyes from you. “You better make it quick.” He warns, “I don't know how long that party might keep your brother entertained.”

A billion questions stream through your consciousness but they all fail to reap even a single explanation and soon, you're idly complying. Pushing your head back slowly, until your braids are buried in the Egyptian linen. Your heart races when you hear his footsteps close the distance between the two of you and somehow you're still fighting to convince yourself that this is real. That Seunghan, and his dangerously sweet smile and inky black hair, is standing above you right now.

While you are here… naked.

That is enough to want to illicit a wave of nausea because no way, on God's green earth, were you going to let him see you naked.

“This is fucking insane-”

“Sit the fuck back down.” He does not shout, but still relays a level of conviction that has you propping yourself up by your elbows as you gaze up at the man in front of you.

“So she listens to orders,” he notes quietly, “Interesting…” Seunghan immediately lowers himself on the edge of your bed, careful not to let your skin touch as he flutters his eyes closed, seemingly thinking something through before nodding with finality.

“Make your fingers wet for me,”

“Seunghan-”

“Is that a no?”

You couldn't very well tell him how desperate you are. You couldn't tell him that his presence and his voice alone has your legs tense and trembling under the pillow. Instead, all you do is hesitantly bring your index and middle finger up to your lips. You suck on them without ever bringing eye contact and once again, Seunghan shuts his eyes in an almost pained expression.

“Fuck, we should not be doing this-”

He says to himself, completely eliminating you as an entity of reason in the space around him, which was fine by you because you can feel yourself slipping deeper and deeper into subspace.

“I shouldn't be doing this,” He says, despite having the bed dip as she shifts closer towards you.

“Sungchan is gonna fucking freak,” he says before finally laying his palm against your steepled knee.

“I don't care,” it's the first words you've said since the severity of the situation sunk in and your voice is hoarse.

Seunghan's earings glint under the warm lights of your bedroom lamp and you never break eye contact once.

“Lay back down and open your legs for me.” He commands oh so quietly until yojre automatically complying; removing the pillow from your front until you were naked in front of him.

Every bad feeling is overridden by lust as you watch Seunghan's heavy eyes skate over your body. “I really wanna watch you fuck yourself with your fingers,” he admits gravely.

Almost instinctively, your hands begin to move in between your parted thighs but he stops you- “Next time.” He promises, and it sends a wave of goosebumps over your skin along with harsh shivers.

“Right now though,” Seunghan gingerly grabs at your waist, until soon, he's manoeuvring you on top of him. You're straddling his hips as he lowers his back onto the bed and Seunghan immediately presses your hips flush against his clothed cock.

“F-Fuck-” both your hips stutter against each other. Yours and Seunghan's lips are hanging open, seemingly surprised by how much you've actually needed each other until now. He cranes his neck back as he rocks you back and forth against him. Yous eize the opportunity to latch your lips onto his skin, eliciting a long and pained groan from him.

“I need to fuck you,” he admits, pawing at your breasts desperately. You whine against him, mind still fuzzy from Seunghan's hard-on rubbing against your soaked cunt.

You're a whimpering moaning mess when he latches his other hand against your throat, pulling you up until his lips were crashing onto yours.

He wastes no time, kissing you hard and rough with his velvety tongue pushing inside your mouth.

“If we carry on like this I'm gonna cum,” he says before pulling his hand away from your boobs and down to his cock in between you both. “Can't have that,” he whispers.

“I'm close too,” you whisper back, “It's fine-”

“You're so fucking desperate. Just be patient.” Despite the iciness in his tone, Seunghan is shocked to find your hips stuttering against him at the words.

“You like that?” He asks breathlessly as he pulls his cock out of his shorts. “You like being my desperate little slut-”

“F-Fuck Seunghan, you need to fuck me p-lease-” before the words even leave yoir mouth, he's sinking into you with an acute roughness that has you screaming in your room.

“Oh my fucking- fuck-” Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your hips almost instinctively begin to ride him, your body now hellbent on chasing it's own orgasm.

You prop yourself up by your arm, leaving Seunghan to stare up at you and clamp his hand around your tits once more.

“Such a good girl,” he whispers, never once taking his eyes off your completely fucked out expression. “You're being such a good fucking girl.”

The depth in his voice, the aching expression in his face and his cock fucking into you at such a rabid pace has your inhibitions melting into incoherence. You were completely and utterly cock drunk. You would do anything he asked you to. Anything he wanted you to do.

“Fuck- You're fucking filth, y'know that?” Seunghan whispers, unable to stop his hips from fucking up into you, “But you're so fucking pretty too?” He says, “M-My pretty girl- FUCK-”

And somehow, those exact words have you both cumming with your moans swimming in the open air. He clutches you tightly as he emptied himself inside of you and you let him, with your eyes rolled back and your tits pressed firmly,against his chest. He claws at your back while you both fight to keep your eyes from slipping shut.

After what feels like ages, you're both breathing heavily and the weight of it all comes crashing down.

“You're so fucking hot." Seunghan's fingers draw lazy shapes against your back as he looks up at the ceiling. “I've always thought that.”

“Well why didn't you say anything?”

“I'm saying something right now.”

Apologies for grammatical or spelling errors, it's 1am

#riize #riize x reader #riize imagines #riize fluff #seunghan x reader #seunghan #riize seunghan #hong seunghan #hong seunghan x reader #hong seunghan smut #seunghan smut #seunghan x you #riize smut #sungchan x reader #riize angst

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byeol-ssi · 1 year

Text

nothing more, nothing less

Kaz Brekker was acquainted with different monsters. Those wrapped in expensive silk and bathed in sickening perfume. Those who spouted beautiful lies, enticing unwitting men into their dens. Those with hands stained crimson, preying on children and fools alike. His reflection on a mirror.

But the green-eyed beast proved to be a terrifying match.

Or, Kaz gets jealous.

✦ kaz brekker x gn!reader | grishaverse

✦ tags: jealous kaz, lieutenant!reader, (kind of?) enemies to lovers, set sometime after the events of crooked kingdom

"Brekker."

"Darling," KAZ drawled without looking up at your arrival, his tone more mocking than affectionate. "You're two bells late. Do you have the—"

A roll of parchment zipped through the air, landing in the middle of his desk with startling accuracy and ruining the neatly arranged blueprints spread atop it.

"I told you to quit calling me that," you muttered darkly. "One of these days, I'll really cut off your tongue."

He huffed, concealing his amusement. He enjoyed calling you all sorts of endearments after discovering how easily they riled you up.

There are times when Kaz allowed himself to feel, to act, like a boy again. Reconcile with a distant past, one that echoed Jordie's voice and carried the smell of fresh grass.

This was one of them. Similar to a child, Kaz reveled in your attention. Regardless if they came as threats, insults, or downright disdain.

He'd swallow a bullet first than ever admit it, though.

"How terrifying," he said, unfazed, and made swift work of straightening out the floor plan you brought him.

Silence fell, interrupted only by the soft shuffling of papers. From the corner of his eye, he noticed you shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

Normally, Kaz would come up with some sort of excuse to make you stay, but it seemed that something was on your mind.

And so, he waited.

You cleared your throat. "Do you need anything else?"

No, but thank you. You did well. Please, get some rest, his thoughts supplied. He ignored them. Instead, he simply settled on, "No."

His movements stilled. The question was unusual, especially coming from you.

"Nothing more, nothing less," you had once told him, seated on the ledge of a stadwatch tower that overlooked Ketterdam's shores. He'd nodded in agreement back then, mesmerized by the early sunlight that caressed your face.

You lived by the old saying for as long as Kaz has known you. After all, when you grew up in the Barrel, you'd learned early on that acting out of the goodness of one's heart only left a person broken. Penniless. Or worse, dead.

As such, you weren't the type to seek additional assignments without an offer beforehand. The fact that you had gone out of your way to ask was... suspicious.

His eyes finally flicked to yours. He could never afford to look at you for too long, as it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to stop once he started.

He cocked his head to the side and searched your gaze. "Why?"

You blinked, clearly caught off guard. He rarely indulged you in idle conversation or pried into your affairs.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Because despite everything you've been through together, this was the nature of your relationship too. Neither of you tried to change it, even after every scar he unraveled and laid at your feet.

Even after numerous nights spent confined in his office, shoulders almost, but never brushing one another as you pored over schemes for hours.

Even after repeatedly saving each other's necks and during the intimate silences that followed when the adrenaline wore off. Moments taut with charged tension, heaving breaths, and unspoken truths.

"I've got plans," you explained rather cryptically.

"Plans? Has someone else hired you for a job? I hope you don't forget that you belong to—"

"No, someone asked me out on a date."

Me, insisted the voice in his head, rich with desperation. You belong to me.

Kaz scoffed in disbelief. "A date? In Ketterdam?"

Fear clawed its way up his throat, determined to make itself known. It warred with another emotion he was too proud to name.

This... feeling was absurd. Sentimental. Kaz was no stranger to loss.

The seas granted Inej her freedom. A new chapter awaited Jesper and Wylan. Nina stumbled upon a second chance at love. Matthias found peace.

Yet, deep down, each farewell left him a little more empty than the last.

You were bound to Ketterdam only by virtue of being the Dreg's sole lieutenant. In truth, nothing else was preventing you from leaving.

Leaving him.

After promoting you, a tiny seed of guilt buried itself in his cold, wretched heart when he realized he held you back. That he never gave you the opportunity to pursue your dreams. Your position forced you to assume several roles, to fill in the shoes the others had given up.

But his greed outweighed his guilt and Kaz was a selfish man indeed.

The mere idea that someone could whisk you away from him brought forth a hateful bitterness from within.

"Where is the unfortunate fellow taking you?" he asked, keeping his voice deceptively calm.

You narrowed your eyes, ignoring the jibe. "It's a quaint little bar called 'none of your business.'"

Nothing more, nothing less. The phrase taunted him now. The green-eyed monster inside him rattled his ribcage ferociously, driving him to boast.

He curled his fingers around the desk's edge tightly. "Funny. I run the entirety of the Barrel, and I don't recall an establishment operating under that name."

"I'll have you know that he actually owns the place he's bringing me to," you snapped defensively.

Good, good. More information.

"And how long have you known each other?"

You shrugged. "A few weeks."

The answer relieved him somewhat. His possessiveness ebbs, its rhythm steady, before it swelled again, rising with the current of his emotions. One should always be more sure of everything. He'd learned that the hard way.

"And he's aware of who you truly are?" Kaz pressed on. "Of what you do?"

There were only a handful of possibilities. The person could have ulterior motives for approaching you. It wasn't unlikely, considering your power was only second to his.

Perhaps it was a spiteful soul he'd wronged, plotting to take advantage of you and get revenge on him.

On the other hand, there was also a chance that they weren't privy to your true identity. He couldn't blame anyone for wanting you but it was common knowledge whispered in the streets that Kaz Brekker was a man unwilling to share.

Anyone who didn't heed that advice and went against it anyway was just recklessly bold. Or stupid. The Barrel never seemed to run out of those.

This time, you broke away from his gaze. "It doesn't matter." You sniffed, feigning indifference.

The person didn't know then, he surmised. You probably met him during one of your undercover assignments, disguised and masquerading around with an alias.

Sensing his disapproval, you attempted to defend your date-to-be by adding, "He's kind. Sweet. Honest."

Everything he was not. The words, sharp as glass, ripped him apart. Crushed him with an overwhelming weight of sorrow.

"It seems naive of you to form an impression of him in such a short amount of time," he said through gritted teeth.

Pretending as if he didn't care should have been easy for him. Right now, all his years of experience in perfecting that charade were useless.

You rolled your eyes. "Not everyone is cynical and distrusting of the world like you. People can be good, Brekker."

And you deserved everything good and more. Better people could love you, he knew.

Someone who would not flinch every time you drew near. Someone who would freely kiss away your every fear.

Kaz had survived gunshots. Knife wounds. Sickness, nightmares, and grief. But the very thought of someone else soaking in your warmth was an ache he could not bear.

He felt the words scorching his tongue, his demons voicing them with unbridled cruelty. "There is a difference between being cautious and acting like a love-sick fool!"

Your eyes widened in shock, hardening in anger a second later; then they softened with disappointment, and all Kaz could see was the reflection of himself, a frenzied animal. A blown fuse. Inhumanely hollow.

He opened his mouth to speak, beg for your forgiveness, but you had already turned and walked away.

"I'll come back when you aren't hissing at me like a wet cat," you said, slamming the door behind you.

Kaz clenched his gloved hands into aching fists and hung his head, trying not to think of how jealous the idea of another man made him.

He wasn't too late. Dealing with his emotions was uncharted territory for him but scheming came as effortlessly as he breathed.

Kaz never lost a fight and he wasn't about to start now. Even if he needed to play dirty. His greed outweighed his guilt and he wasn't called Dirtyhands for nothing.

"Brekker!"

Kaz had just finished speaking with another gang member, Roeder, when he heard the heavy stomp of your footsteps, followed by the frustrated yell of his name. You appeared on the stairway landing soon after, rage thundering in your wake.

"You're dismissed." Kaz waved to Roeder. His eyes shifted to you momentarily and cast Kaz a wary glance. Not wanting to get caught in the crossfire, he scurried off, slipping past the both of you.

Kaz began to ascend the stairs, you trailing behind him. He could sense that you were shooting daggers at the back of his head, probably cursing him out silently.

"You're back early," he finally said once you entered his office. He circled back to the same place you'd left him hours earlier and sat in his chair. "How'd the date go?"

You stormed closer, wedging yourself between him and the desk, stopping him from hiding behind the pretense of work.

"You know exactly how it went," you snarled.

In spite of your anger, you remembered to maintain your distance. Not once have you commented on his aversion to skin-to-skin contact, though he was certain you harbored your own questions.

"I'm afraid I don't, darling." He raised his chin to hold your gaze, his expression carefully blank. A tailored mask. "I wasn't there."

"You had him taken by the Dregs." The hurt on your face was unmistakable, enough for Kaz to feel a tad remorseful.

It was hardly sufficient, though. Screw righteousness, old habits die hard. "Ah, I had no idea he was your date," he lied again.

"Bullshit."

"But, what I do know is that he laundered money from our coffers and forced children into building the same tavern you were just in."

Kaz went over records of the jobs you'd accomplished in the last two months. After connecting the dots, he successfully identified your date and paid Roeder to look into his background. It was pure luck that the man was a merchant who managed to con Kaz's old boss.

Pulling the strings for his capture was practically child's play. Not that he'd ever tell you that.

Your fury dissipated, replaced by defeat that slumped your shoulders. "You were right," you said quietly, avoiding his eye once more. "I'm sorry."

Kaz rose from his chair and stepped forward. Taken by surprise, you backed away instinctively, only to find yourself trapped by the desk now digging into your hip.

"Let me make it up to you," he spoke with an unfamiliar softness. It almost sounded wrong.

You furrowed your brows in confusion. "What?"

"I ruined your evening. I could have ordered the others to seize him after you finished dinner."

But I didn't want him to walk you home. Wrap his coat around your shoulders. Kiss you goodnight at the Slat's doorstep. Kaz would've probably loaded his pistol at the sight. Broken every limb that touched you with his cane.

You snorted. "Okay. Are you going to give me whatever we steal next? Increase my cut?"

"No, although we can discuss it another time. I'm inviting you out on a date."

You blinked once. Twice. Slowly, you said, "Brekker, you ask someone out when you like them."

His lips pulled into the slightest frown, mildly impatient. "I know."

"You don't like me."

"Whoever put that silly idea in your head?"

"You did. You don't like anyone."

"I may not be the best at showing it, but you know that there are exceptions to that rule," he argued. "Especially when it comes to you."

He continued to lean over you, ignoring the pressure of panic beating against the walls of his chest from the proximity.

"You called me an idiot," you countered. You refused to move a muscle, most likely out of consideration for him, but he closed the distance himself.

He dipped his head further. "Again, I never said that."

"Fine," you conceded, sounding fond. "You implied that I was an idiot."

"I'll be kinder from now on," he promised. "I can try to be sweet, if you give me time and chance to learn. And I'm being honest right now."

Nothing he could do would ever atone for his sins. But although he was renowned as the Bastard of the Barrel, he was prepared to do it right by you.

Hesitantly, you raised a hand. Every inch of his flesh wanted to turn itself inside out, but every bone in his body yearned for your touch.

A quivering sigh escaped his throat as you reached for his cheek, your fingers warm and gentle on his skin.

He braced himself for the familiar scent of death. The ocean. He willed himself to focus on the details that made your face. The line of your jaw to your ear. The slope of your nose. The curve of your lips, hanging onto them as if his life depended on it.

It did, in a way.

"Your answer?" he rasped, suppressing a shiver.

You dragged your thumb against his skin in a delicate but paralyzingly manner and whispered, "I accept."

He had never been held with such tenderness before. Your touch made him feel like he was somewhere else, far from the memories that haunted him.

Growing concerned, you attempted to withdraw your hand but Kaz grasped your wrist before you fully could. He steadied himself with your pulse, each beat, each hymn, anchoring him to the present.

He was here. With you. In his office. Nothing in the world could hurt him.

Eventually, he slid his own gloved hand so that your palms pressed together. Your lashes fluttered and you asked, "Is this really happening? Are we really going on a date?"

He hummed in affirmation. "And I'll do it properly."

Seriously, who in their right mind would bring you to that side of Ketterdam? He took the sealed envelope containing your dinner reservation from inside his coat and handed it to you.

"Thank you." Your mouth curved into a shy smile. "And for the record... you don't have to be anything else other than yourself."

"Ruthless, callous, and dishonest cheat?" His voice held a hint of insecurity, betraying his attempted nonchalance. It was a question hauled from the inner depths of his soul, the boy inside him who wondered if he could ever be worthy of love.

"You forgot insufferable," you teased, although your earnest gaze belied the lightness of your tone. He knew you could see right through him. "But, yes. Just you, Kaz. Nothing more. Nothing less."

At that moment, Kaz knew you would be his salvation and destruction. You could shatter his heart and every single piece would still cry out for your name.

He squeezed your hand. Soon, he'll make you, and everyone else in the Barrel, realize that he had no intentions of ever letting you go.

✦ byeol’s notes: new year, new fandom ?!

✦ reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! thank you so, so much in advance! <3

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peachdues · 1 month

Text

HALL OF GILDED BONES — NSFW TEASER

Yandere Seelie!Kyojuro x Reader • Victorian AU

A/N: a little teaser of the absolute psychological fuckery that will be my next monster-fucking fic. Not proof read in the slightest.

Be warned: this is a yandere fic. Very dark themes ahead.

CW: READ THE FUCKING WARNINGS • Dead dove, do not eat • yandere!Kyojuro •reader is asleep the entire time • non-consensual oral (F!receiving) • non-consensual somnophilia • masturbation • non-consensual fingering

this is all thanks to @kentohours

It is hot, even for late summer. The air is thick and humid, and it seems no one can escape the constant sheen of sweat that clings to everything and everyone like a second skin.

The night offers little relief. And so, even those who make up London’s high society risk leaving their windows unlatched, desperate for air to circulate through their stuffy homes.

Kyojuro smirks to himself as he silently floats down to Y/N’s small balcony from the spired roof of her family’s magnificent townhouse. Never before has he been so grateful for such an unprecedented heat wave to strike the city, for he is able to stride into his beloved dove’s bedroom with ease, for once not having to use his magick to push her window open and allow him entry.

The moon hangs fat and silvery in the sky, and its watery light illuminates his way as he crosses over the threshold into Y/N’s bedroom. Kyojuro summons a silent wind to push the doors of her window shut, a silent click of the latch confirming that his nightly visit with her will not be disturbed.

He’s as quiet as a mouse as he steps down from the small ledge of the windowsill. His ochre eyes glow in the dark as they scan the room for her, narrowing when they find her sprawled out across her mattress, atop her blankets.

The poor thing; even she, too, seems to be struggling with the abnormal heatwave that’s befallen the city.

He already finds himself growing hard with each step as he draws closer to her sleeping form. His mind is wild with options for the night — shall he take his cock out of his trousers and hold it to her lips like last time, or shall he tease both her and himself by ghosting his fingers over the sumptuous planes of her body, never allowing himself to fully touch her, yet still giving himself a sinful taste of her skin?

His nostrils flare, eager to scent out her intoxicating perfume, but then his eyes widen, and he swears he feels his pupils blow wide.

The heat has made her scent all the more potent, and Kyojuro feels drunk as he approaches the edge of her lavish bed.

A simmering fire courses through his blood at the sight of her legs, parted and open, and the papery linen sheath she’d worn as a nightgown that has ridden up her hips. A thin sheen of sweat coats her skin, making it shine in the moonlight, and her cheeks are flushed from the heat.

Devilish girl, he thinks as he perches one knee carefully at the foot of her bed. How can she expect him to be restrained when she has quite literally spread herself out for him, in offering?

The mattress dips slightly below his weight but his love does not stir, too lost in the deep throes of sleep to sense his presence in her chamber — in her bed. Carefully, so carefully, he climbs onto her bed, mindful to keep his weight off her, though everything within him screams at him to lay out atop her and take her once and for all.

But he won’t; not yet, not when the sight of her maiden’s blood on her fine sheets might give rise to alarm among her servants. He will not risk her being sent away before he has properly seeded her, and so, Kyojuro will be patient, even if it kills him.

Besides, he thinks as he settles at her feet, his nose skimming along the length of her calf. He wants to know her body thoroughly before he gives her his cock — he wants to know every sensitive spot, to know how to make her gasp and twitch and beg for him to gift her release.

His hand ghosts up the inside of her right leg, pushing it gently. It falls to the side, bent at her knee, and she is now spread for him, ready for him to feast.

His mouth waters at the sight of the thatch of curls sitting at the apex of her thighs. With a shaky exhale he surges forward and presses his nose right against his center. The scent of her sweet musk sends his eyes rolling back in his head, and he feels a slight dribble of saliva escape his lips before he can stop it.

His hands curl under her thighs, holding them wide open as Kyojuro exhales softly against her, allowing the moisture of his breath to dampen her skin. He runs his nose along her center one more time, and then, with the tip of his tongue peeking out from between his lips, he traces up her slit in a single, tender stroke.

One hand leaves her thigh to fist at her sheets. His skin stretches taut over his knuckles as he fights to keep his moan locked tight in his chest, lest he risk waking the entire household. Beneath him, Y/N twitches, something like a whimper vibrating in her throat.

His eyes flick up to her face, wide in disbelief. Even in sleep, her eyebrows are furrowed, and her pretty lips are turned into a pout as her body spasms again.

Quickly, he brings his mouth back against her and repeats the movement, licking up her seam with more pressure before he lets his tongue circle the small pearl he knows lies right at the very top of her beautiful sex.

This time, Y/N’s hips jolt, almost as though in demand. Below the diaphanous fabric of her nightdress, her breasts pebble, and a soft moan slips out of her mouth as she bucks again.

He can hardly contain his excitement. Very well, my dove, he thinks with a soft chuckle. I shall give you what you desire.

His golden eyes lower to her center and his nostrils flare wide. There, mixed in with his own saliva, is a wetness of her own.

The scent is unmistakable; her pleasure.

A low growl hums in his throat as he surges forward and latches his mouth against her. He pushes her thighs over his shoulders, one by one, and when his hands are free they join his mouth, parting the lips of her cunt, spreading her wide for him to feast.

And feast he does; every lap of his tongue, every movement of his jaw and his lips fills his mouth with more of her honey. His tongue sinks into her entrance and Kyojuro nearly comes apart right then; her muscles instantly close around him, sucking him into her heat and the thought of her walls clenching and tightening around his cock sends him into a frenzy. His hips grind hard against her mattress in time with the fierce movements of his tongue. Above his mouth, his thumb swirls around Y/N’s sensitive little bead, gathering and spreading more of her wetness with each fevered rotation.

Y/N’a breathing gradually becomes labored as he works, until she is panting and writhing against her bed. Distantly, his ears pick up on the increased tempo of her heart as it flutters like a bird against her sternum.

Rationally, Kyojuro knows he should tread carefully — that if he continues this impassioned frenzy of his mouth against her cunt, he risks forcing her awake and will reveal himself far earlier than he intends.

His greedy hands begin roaming her body, groping and smoothing over her soft curves. As one palm flattens against her stomach, he can feel her muscles clench and flex as the movements of his mouth and tongue intensify. Soon, she is vibrating beneath his hands, and as taut as a bowstring.

Blissfully, she remains asleep despite how her body draws closer to its release. He’s thankful; he’d always known that one could dream vividly of pleasure and feel its effects in reality, but he’d always assumed there was a limit; a point at which the brain would force the body awake, to realize that the intense pleasure it was experiencing was not, in fact, real but a trick of the mind.

But this lovely little human was living proof that his theory had been wrong; for she remained steadfastly asleep, her eyes moving quickly behind her lids as she dreams even as her body bucks and twists under his ministrations.

Besides, he thinks as he presses the tip of his nose flush against her sensitive nub, his mouth continues to work steadily at her. Her pleasure was not mere fantasy — it was real, and it was because of him.

The slick walls of her heat begin to flutter and pulse wildly around his tongue, and Kyojuro knows she is only seconds from release. He drags one hand to her lower abdomen, his palm resting flat and pressing down as he rocks his face harder against her, the other resting on her hip to keep her locked against him. Between his own legs, his cock has grown painfully hard, and the Seelie prince cannot stop himself from grinding into her mattress, desperate for friction and relief.

The thumb of the hand on her abdomen stretches and presses sharply down on the little pearl at the top of her sex. With one, muted grunt, Kyojuro plunges his tongue as deep as it will go into Y/N’s cunt and curls it, and it’s over.

His darling little dove arcs sharply away from her mattress, a faint cry falling from her lips as Kyojuro feels her release slam into her. The walls of her cunt seize around his tongue and pulse, and he greedily laps up every drop of her sweet wetness that gushes into his mouth.

Her climax is his heaven; his eyes roll back into his skull as he loses himself in the heady scent of her, mouth noshing away between her legs in an effort to make it last as long as he can afford. He fights the urge to sink his teeth into the meat of her thigh, desperate to mark her, but unwilling to drag his mouth away from paradise that is her sex.

Finally, the last wave of her climax rolls through her, and Y/N collapses back against her bed, limp. Kyojuro tears his mouth away from her center with a ragged pant, his eyes round and full of awe as he gazes upon her sleeping face.

Magnificent; she is utterly magnificent. The sweetest little creature in all the realms, and utterly and completely his.

Shakily, he rises to his knees, a storm of devotion and adoration churning violently within him. His eyes drop to the seat of his trousers where his own desire for her stands painfully proud. He grimaces; now is not the time for him to take her, but neither can he go back to fucking his own hand as he stands beside her; not after experiencing the euphoria of her sweet sex.

His gaze lowers to the sacred place between her thighs, and his cock throbs. Before he can think the better of it, his hands are fumbling with the fastening of his trousers and he pulls himself free, his length springing against the taut muscles of his stomach. A bead of wetness has already gathered at his tip, and he hissed as his thumb swipes over it, sensitive and desperate.

He gives himself a gentle pump and shifts, positioning his knees on the outside of either of her thighs, still spread against her bed. With a shaky breath, he lowers his cock to her center, and nearly swears at the heat that pulses off of her, practically singing for him to cast aside all reason and plunge himself into her.

A curse burns in his throat as his teeth sink into his lower lip, a metallic tang coating his tongue. No, Kyojuro will hold back — he must.

Below him, his beloved’s breathing has evened, signaling that she has slipped back into her oblivion once more, and her lack of awareness only makes him harder, makes his balls feel heavier and fuller.

Slowly, he traces the aching, swollen head of his cock up and down her cunt, her wetness gathering at his tip. With a shudder, he begins working his cock, his hand spreading her slick along his length until he, too, is covered in her release.

Kyojuro presses the tip of his great length flush against her nub and grinds. Instantly, Y/N’s legs twitch once more, and another surge of her wetness gushes forth and coats him as he continues fisting at his cock. The added lubricant results in a dull schlicking sound that joins his quiet pants he pumps away at himself, his eyes steadily trained on his sleeping dove’s face.

The devil in his mind whispers how it would be easy, so very easy to slip inside her. The thought of her warm, tight, dripping heat clenching around him makes the muscles of his abdomen flex, the knot deep within his stomach seizing painfully tight.

His eyes drop down to his cock, aching and shiny with Y/N’s wetness. Just a little, that tricky voice urges, just enough to sate his own curiosity, to know how her body would feel parting around him —

But the question of whether he’d have the self-restraint not to sheathe himself inside her enticing heat, goes unanswered for now. For it takes only two, hard pumps of his hand to make the coil in his gut unwind.

His free hand flies to his mouth just in time for Kyojuro to quiet his own, deep groan. His teeth sink hard into the flesh of his knuckles as his release barrels through him. Hastily, he presses the tip of his cock flush against his sleeping lover’s entrance just as thick, hot ropes of his seed spurt forth, coating both his hand and her cunt in white.

The vision of her face fades to black for a moment, replaced by stars as bright as those which had dotted the sky the very night the universe had gifted her to him. In the back of his hazy mind, Kyojuro remembers to clench his jaw shut, to keep his lascivious moans and curses locked within him as he pumps himself through his climax.

Every muscle in his body is tight, his limbs rigid as he continues to spill over his fist and against Y/N’s slick heat. When the last, dizzying echo of his release finishes reverberating through him, Kyojuro nearly crumples against his love’s plush mattress. He manages to catch himself at the last second, a hand shooting to grip at her blankets as he pitches himself to the side, narrowly avoiding disturbing her body with his own.

He curls into the bed, smothering his shuddering breaths against her sheets. A long moment passes as Kyojuro regains control over himself, and then he pushes himself to his knees, cheeks flushed and chest heaving, to survey his work. Something prideful and smug roars in his chest as he beheld the mess of white left between Y/N’s supple thighs.

As he admires the sight of his mess dribbling down Y/N’s sex, an idea, a wickedly mischievous idea, took form. Though he would remain committed to restraining himself from claiming her until the time was right, that did not mean he had to let his seed go to waste.

His heart thrums wildly as he brings his fingers against his little dove’s beautiful cunt, gathering his own spend around his digits. Her cunt parts easily around him as he pushes it into her, swirling his fingers inside her to ensure his seed thoroughly coats her walls. He repeats his movements again and again until he is satisfied that all of him is inside of her, with nothing remaining on her thighs or the bed below her.

Though asleep, Y/N’s thighs flex around him as he withdraws his hand from her cunt, her body subconsciously wanting to cling onto him, keep him there, between her legs where he belonged.

He huffs a quiet laugh. Precious, he thinks as he runs an affectionate hand over her stomach. Such a precious little thing, his dove is.

“Do not fret, my love,” he murmurs as he lowers himself to impart one, final kiss against her dampened flesh. The combined scent of her pleasure mixed with his nearly catapults him back into a frenzy, but Kyojuro forces himself away.

He stands and tucks himself back into his trousers. Just outside her great window, the sky has begun to lighten, and soon, dawn will spill over the spires roofs of London, and a new day will commence.

And he will return to her, his darling human, wearing the mask of a courtly suitor once more.

He leaps to her windowsill and unlatches the great glass doors, letting them swing wide. He pauses, turning back to cast one last look at Y/N, still fast asleep in her bed and no wiser to his presence than she’d been when he’d first arrived.

He smiles, content. “I shall see you soon.”

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