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mrpenguinpants · 2 years

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Green Slumber

— "Ah, look! Is Alhaitham taking a nap?" "Shh...You're too loud, Paimon." "Th-That's not true…Paimon was definitely whispering-wait, who is that beside him?"

— Alhaitham

Ayato Ver: Pale Blue Slumber Traveller & Paimon lines are taken from the official Genshin Twitter post. [Masterlist]

Congrats Alhaitham, your birthday postpones the fic where I tear you apart for scamming me. I usually don't write birthday fics but pretty art. Can you tell I'm not used to writing second pov and rushed again :)) I don't know how to end fics.

"Ah, look! Is Alhaitham taking a nap?"

Lumine looks in the direction of Paimon's voice, her floating companion peeking through a room with a giddy face. No doubt hatching some sort of plan to get back at the scribe for his words during their quest to rescue Lesser Lord Kusanali. On one hand, she should probably scold Paimon for immediately jumping to payback since the reason both of them are here is to wish the man a happy birthday before departing to the next region. But on the other hand...

“Shh…You’re too loud Paimon,” Lumine whispers as she tip-toes towards the door and gently pushes it open further. She's pointedly ignoring the face Paimon is throwing her for acting just as bad as she is. If anyone asks, she'll make an excuse that she was just being a polite guest and if Alhaitham was sleeping, she would excuse herself quietly. In no way is it her curiosity to see the ever-serious Alhaitham in any mode that's defenseless and relaxed. So with Paimon’s head hovering above hers, they both poke their heads into the room. Alhaitham doesn’t look any different from the last time they met, although asleep, he looks far less intimidating. He’s leaned back in the wooden chair, arm propped up to hold his lolling head in place. Calculating amber and teal eyes are closed as his chest falls up and down slowly with each breath while the gentle sun paints him in warm yellows and soothing whites. If Lumine had never met Alhaitham before, she would have thought he may have been the Dendro archon with how serene the scene itself is. Something that almost makes her want to reach out and touch him just to check if he’s real or not.

"Th-That's not true…Paimon was definitely whispering-wait, who is that beside him?" Paimon’s voice tapers off at the end, eyes alight with confusion. Lumine tears her eyes away from Alhaitham to look at where Paimon is pointing. Seated on the desk right in front of Alhaitham’s sleeping figure, a stranger hums softly with their ankles locked as they swing their legs ideally in the air. In their hands appears to be the beige book Alhaitham usually carries around, the one about physics and motion if she remembers correctly. Now that she’s looking - she can't believe she missed an entire person because she got distracted by the image of a sleeping Alhaitham - the stranger looks far more comfortable in the room than she is. Maybe they're another roommate? Although Alhaitham doesn't seem like the type to have an extensive list of friends and she's positive she's met most if not all of the people Alhaitham could call close enough to have them in his home. She shares a look with Paimon who returns it with a shrug of the shoulders. Neither one of them has ever seen this mysterious person before.

"Haitham, this section here about..." the stranger's voice brings blue and yellow eyes back to the room. Lumine watches intrigued as the stranger finally looks up from the book to see Alhaitham fast asleep. A soft sigh escapes their lips as they close the book, shoulders dropping into something more relaxed, and they just sit and look at the man. They have the same look in their eye but instead, their hand slowly reaches out until their fingertips meet the tips of soft silver hair. Pushing strands away from his face before waltzing down to caress his cheek. It's an intimate touch and Lumine isn't sure whether she should be here interrupting the moment. The stranger surely seems to be having fun as they return to playing with silver strands. Through it all, Alhaitham remains asleep yet, his body seems to lean into the touch naturally. As if these practiced movements have happened before.

Oh. Oh, she understands now.

“Hey, Paimon…” Lumine starts as she slowly picks herself off the floor as quietly as possible lest she disturbs the peace. "We should leave."

"Huh? But why? We've never seen this person before right? What if they're one of those bad guys that are after Alhaitham because he's the acting grand sage!" Paimon adamantly nods, small hands clutched into little fists. It would be cute if it weren't for the fact that Paimon has no sense of volume. Before Lumine can reach out and press her palm against Paimon's mouth to stop her from shouting again, a light chuckle rings out. They both freeze in place, flicking their heads back inside the room.

"You know...if you talk any louder you will actually wake him up," the stranger drops their hand as they turn to face the duo. There's mirth dancing in their eyes and Lumine has enough decency to look embarrassed at getting caught red-handed. Paimon on the other hand has no such reservations.

"Ah, sorry! We didn't mean to! Wait-Hey! Don't turn this on Paimon. Who are you and what are you doing in Alhaitham's house?!" Paimon stomps her feet in the air, crossing her arms as she pouts at the stranger. Her frown further increased by the stranger laughing harder.

"I basically live here. There's no need to be so on edge. I doubt Haitham could sleep so easily if a stranger was in his home," they say, gesturing to the still peacefully unaware scribe who hasn't moved a muscle since they arrived.

"Ohh, so you're like that blond guy from before! Ka-Ka something? But wait, why were you touc-"

"Ahem, sorry for barging in. We just wanted to say Happy Birthday to Alhaitham. We'll visit again some other time when he's awake," Lumine cuts Paimon off, successfully managing to slap her hand against Paimon's mouth. She can feel the back of her ears turning red as she bows and practically sprints away and out of the house. She'll just write a note to the scribe instead.

You blink a few times before chuckling again. Wow, that girl sure can run fast. You've heard stories about the Traveller and this "Paimon" character, patiently waiting for your turn to stumble into their journey. Although you wish you had met them with better first impressions, they seem like a lively bunch. Your eyes slide over back onto the sleeping figure in front of you, and there's a slight nudge of his lips. The smallest of smiles threaten to burst before it placates into something more neutral. A small detail that hasn't escaped you.

"I know you're awake Alhaitham," you state blankly, your gentle hands reaching back up before suddenly turning harsh and tugging at his cheek. Pulling the skin so he has a lopsided smile. True to your words, teal and amber eyes open without an ounce of shame. "Weren't those your friends? Don't be rude and ignore them when they came all this way to say happy birthday."

He offers a half-hearted shrug before the hand supporting his head moves to take your fingers still tugging at his cheek. Intertwining them together until his face is free. His smile is still small but his eyes shine with fondness that you're forced to look away. Sometimes you forget just how pretty Alhaitham can be.

"Weren't you the one that said I should indulge on my special day? Is it so wrong that I want to spend it with you and you alone?" He adds to his point by brushing his lips against your fingertips before pressing a kiss to your palm. There's a small smile as he extends his other hand out, eyes taking in how pink your ears become. "So let's indulge."

“For such a pretty face, you sure are…” you trail off but you take his hand and let him move you onto his lap. It's unfair how fast he can turn the tables on you and how easily you let him do so. It was fun being able to poke and prod the man to your heart's content since he had to hold the disguise of being asleep, even if you do feel a bit bad that the Traveller had to postpone their greeting, but now it's his hands that roam over your body. Slipping under your - his - shirt and rubbing small circles into your hip before growing bored and moving onto another patch of untouched skin until there's nothing left to take. Lip hungry as he kisses away your words because every breath that isn't mixed with his is worthless. Perhaps it's a blessing that you need to take a proper breath because you're sure that Alhaitham would keep taking until there's nothing left. Disregarding how tightly your hands cling to him and refuse to let him stray too far away.

"Greedy."

"Pot meet kettle."

---

[taglist] <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@genshins1mpact @creatorofstars @xoneaboveallx @timmyitsmeeee @raingoesboomboom @duhsies @thegayrubberducky @isa-solasun @afoxesgreed @yuuki4646 @angel-luv-04 @inlovewithwaffles @maddymints09 @moonssandstars @ieathairs @crypticbibliophile @cumbermovels @totallynotaraidensimp

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x reader #al haitam x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin impact headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #genshin alhaitham #genshin impact alhaitham #alhaitham #alhaitham headcanons #alhaitham fluff

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cillivnz · 4 months

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⋆˚࿔ 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘳𝘰𝘦]

pairing. 𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘳𝘰𝘦 x f!reader

synopsis. competitiveness is a vice, your nature gets the best of you when your best friend challenges you to climb the top of the slide before him. since you won, you deserve to be rewarded, and sam recognises that.

includes. nsfw themes (18+), exhibitionism, outdoor/public sex, perv!sam, clueless!reader, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, degradation, possessive!sam, dub-con, loss of virginity/innocence kink, overstimulation, clit-play, unprotected sex (PiV), dacryphilia, cream-pie, smoking, theft?

word count. no idea, don’t ask.

a/n. was this asked for? no. did i deliver, still? fuck yeah. i really got lost in how to describe the situation, just go with the flow until you reach the fucking, shh. both protagonists are adults. i don’t proof-read my shit anymore.

PEERING AT YOU FROM AFAR, sam’s serpentine tongue toys with his labret piercing. you’re in that skimpy skirt again— the one that perks the unwanted attention of everyone in the neighbourhood. it’s not that he hated you in them— the low-cut tank tops spilling your cleavage, it’s just a sight he’s reserved for him, in the dark of his room while his cock is milking into the panties you deemed missing.

you were waddling towards the slide, your hips swaying with the sea breeze. sam’s jaw clenched when he got one peak of the fat flesh of your ass. he scoffs at your piss-poor attempt at dressing when you barely manage to cover your mound. ‘ever the tease’, he groans. as he flicks alight his marlboro red, the devil on his shoulder— his trusted advocate— spoke.

“hey, bambi,” your head whipped towards him, the nickname never failing to make you clench your thighs. “you still wanna learn to skate? yeah?” his raspy voice had a tinge of amusement to it, a frown encasing his eyebrow piercing as he peers through the sun. “yes!” you spoke all-too-eagerly. you had been dying to learn how to skate, courtesy of your obsession with Bam Margera (something that always irked sam out for reasons unknown), so it was natural for you to resort to your trusted (and professionally good) best friend for some lessons. what you hadn’t anticipated was to be turned down so bluntly. sam not wanting for you to break that pretty little nose or have a black-eye around those bambi eyes. you’d been pestering him for weeks, but his patience seemed endless, that is, until he found a good reward for himself in this deal. “tell y’ what,” he says, having your undivided attention towards him. “if you climb to the top of the slide before me, i’ll give you skating lessons,” a genuine smile flashed on his face, “and if i win,” now that smile turned into a smirk, “well, you’ll see.” he said, motioning for you to take the headstart.

sam knew you weren’t the athletic type, and that only way to climb up was up the slide. still, he let you sprint towards it first, loving the sight of your skirt swaying in the wind, giving him a delicious peak at your baby blue panties.

seven seconds barely in and he gets up from the swing, placing his lit smoke on the metal, before darting towards you. catching up to you was as smooth a breeze as the wind flowing through the neighbourhood. he wasn’t athletic either, but his long limbs gave him the needed upper hand. the salty breeze carried oceanic oud and the stench bittersweet whiff of marijuana as sam dashed past you, but you weren’t having it. earlier, the shame of your potential indecent exposure prevented you from pulling a usain bolt on him, but having him win with all odds in his favour and despite the headstart— yeah, you weren’t having it.

you dashed forth, feeling your skirt sway away with the teasing breeze, lunging for the slide the minute you reached it’s foot. sam’s eyes widened when you picked up your pace, and when you sprinted, with not a care in the world, his eyes nearly popped out of his skull to see your baby blue panties constricting the fat globes of your ass. sam didn’t like running, but he hated running with a boner.

you reached the top of the slide, doing a giddy little victory dance. sam’s vindictive eyes landed on you, watching you sway your hips while your chest huffed with pride and adrenaline.

“my fault for giving you that head-start, bambi,” he chewed his cheek in annoyance. “tough luck, sammy,” you giggled. “so, when do you start giving me skating lessons?” your big doe eyes were shining, looking expectantly at your new mentor. “now, hold on,” he said, voice low. it was then you realised you had unknowingly taken a seat on the slide, and sam was crouched between your legs, very, very close to your legs. you gulped, “what now?”

“yes, you won, but i need a promising fee to convince me to lend you my precious skateboard,” he pouts, “you know how rare that heartagram one is.” it’s true, sam had to fight his old man nearly every day for allowance to get it. “what- how could i convince you?” you were desperate.

“how about you start by spreading your legs?”

you gasped the minute those words left his mouth, unable to process let alone comply. he huffed, “why must i do everything for you, bambi? hm?” he jerked open your legs, immediately pushing his torso between your knees. “not that i mind, bambi,” he continued, cooing, “you’d probably exhaust that dumb little brain of yours a day without me,” he shoved up your skirt. “sam, what are you—” you were cut off by the feel of his thumb poking right at your clit. “what does it look like i’m doing, silly girl? look at that, i didn’t even have to look for your clit, the little thing’s so swollen— poking through your panties, baby,” he rambled, applying pressure on your nub.

it took about a minute of him toying with your clit before your soft cotten panties were damp, ruined by the slick gushing out of you. “slutty little thing, look at that,” sam groaned, transfixed by the sight of the wet spot growing in your underwear.

“sammy, not here….” you whimpered out, “here’s exactly where, baby. ‘community park’s where the neighbourhood sluts get it.” you couldn’t help but moan at his crude tongue. “oh?” you were hoping he wouldn’t, but his ears were quick to catch on to the soft sounds. “i’ve got me a whore with a degradation kink, huh,” sam chuckles, sending tingles through your core. his long raven locs fell over his pale face, a checkerboard contrast.

“lift your hips, bambi,” his raspy voice breathy from arousal. you were hesitant to comply, but had you not found release soon, you were sure to explode. so, you do.

he quickly took off your panties, pocketing them with a smug smirk. you gasped at the cold sensation of the metal platform beneath you. you awaited a sly remark at how your arousal leaked down to your thighs, but none came. your eyes flick to his, and your heart skipped a beat at the sight. sam monroe, your best friend of years, your biggest tease and mocker, was now left enchanted by the sight of your gushing pussy, all puffy and swole with need. his chest heaved up and down, pearly beads of sweat forming around his face, like iridescent piercings. “sam… touch me, please,” the words shamelessly escaped your lips, but you needed to break his trance.

his eyes flicked up to yours, mouthing agape. he nodded, tongue darting out to wet his plump lips. he spread your legs, and then your folds, watching your tiny hole gape around your fluttering lips. he watched how your clit protruded, desperate for attention— his attention. “tell me, bambi,” he asked, his gaze burning a hole through your body. “has anyone else ever made you this wet? ‘your clit ever swell so much for somebody?” he coaxed, watching you writhe and throb in anticipation. “n-no, sam,” you whimpered. “bambi, say it,” he looked at you through his firm brow, a warning glare. “no one’s- no one has made my cl-clit so… swell,” you burnt with shame, moreover with arousal. it’s true, if you’ve ever pleasured yourself, it’s to the unholy thoughts of him.

“good girl, bambi,” he said, placing an open-mouthed kiss on your clit, his mouth drowning your nub in his saliva. a sharp sensation of pleasure coursed through your body when the tip of his tongue circled your clit, taunting it painfully. he began sucking on it, which was when you felt his tongue piercing come in contact with your little hole. your eyes shot open, widening when his tongue began thrusting in and out of your walls. his ring-clad fingers quickly replaced his tongue, scissoring your hole open. your body shuddered at the catalyst sensations; the hot metal on his tongue and the cold ones pushing through your cunt.

“fuck,” you moaned. “shh, pretty girls don’t curse,” sam ‘tsk’ed, leaving your clit with a ‘pop’. two long, thick digits were pummelling through your unused cunt. you were squirming, gushing, creaming down his digits. “sam, i’m— gonna cum, sam!” you babbled, he nodded fervently, with your clit trapped in his mouth. quickly, he swapped. his tongue thrusted into your cunt while his fingers vigorously rubbed your clit. with the sensation of his piercing stroking your velvety walls, you were a goner. you gushed into his mouth with a pornographic moan, legs twitching around his broad shoulders.

he parted from you, only to manhandle your legs as further apart as he could, sticking them between two poles. you gasped at the burning stretch, your cunt on display for his ravenous eyes. “sorry, bambi. i know you’re a bed-of-roses-kinda-girl but i just can’t hold it anymore…” before you could fathom what he meant he had already unzipped his black jeans, his cock sprang out.

“no, sam, not here! please!” you shrieked a little too late. the fat tip of his cock had already began rubbing up and down your slit, mixing your gush and his precum together, turning all thoughts in your little bambi brain into mush. sam stood tall on the ladder, so further below you yet hovering over you. this was the most perfect position, he thought, having stuck your legs as wide open as he could, levelling your warm cunt with his cock so all he had to do was slam into your sheathing walls— this was bliss; his reward for being so patient with your teasing ass and your punishment for testing him.

with one shove, he was tearing through your hymen, but since he had prepped you, the pain lasted less, and because sam was ever the gentleman he even gave you two whole minutes to adjust to his intrusion, while he basked in your suffocating warmth. “bambi, this cunt is like a hole to heaven,” he sighed, head thrown back, eyes closed in euphoria. “no wonder kids around the block want to hit it,” he clenched his jaw, smirking to himself at the thought of being the first to enter you. you writhed, overwhelmed with how whole your hole felt (horny word-play, they don’t call me sin for nothing). soon enough, his patience wore off and he began thrusting into you rhythmically.

“s-sam, slow d-down…” you moaned, trying to close your legs, had they not been fixed in place by your cruel penetrator. every muscle of yours burned sore, but the sensation of him pounding into you overpowered all. “fuuuck, i’m not gonna last long, bambi,” he groaned in your ear, lifting your chin to place a sloppy kiss on your lips. “oh, shit,” he moaned into your mouth, biting down hard on your plump lower lip. you moaned in response. his fingers made their way to your clit, flicking it fervently, feeling you clench around his cock in response, sam unexpectedly came. the warmth of his load shooting into you had you spiralling away into your second orgasm. your nails clawed at his forearms, begging for him to stop, but he wouldn’t give it a rest until every drop of his seed shot into you. the tears streaming down your lashes intensified, and a pussy-drunk sam was quick to lick them away, kissing your soft cheeks.

“sam, what have you done…?” you asked, half ashamed, half aroused. “what i should’ve a while ago,” he said, nonchalantly, getting down the slide and lifting you with him. you blushed at the ease with which he carried you in his arms. “sam, my panties—” “naw, bambi, they’re mine now,” he patted the garment in his pocket, “—fit right into my collection,” he accidentally let out. “what?” the pieces of the puzzle fit. “you’ve been stealing my panties?!” you yelled. his sudden change in demeanour whenever you’d enter your room after leaving him there, alone, and how he’d mysteriously be lurking around your underwear drawer was explained.

“i can neither confirm nor deny that,” he said, lifting the cigarette butt he placed on the metal swing he sat at earlier.

he in fact did confirm that, later that night, when you received a video of him on your phone, jerking off his swollen cock— with the red lace panties you’d been searching for all week— wrapped around his cock, stained in his cum.

may all competitions in life be this rewarding.

main masterlist. blog directory. more of Sam Monroe.

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hajimeseyo · 9 months

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(part 1 here! it's not required for reading this piece, but they are connected, so it'll make more sense if you read the first part first!)

The door to the sewing club slides open with a loud BANG!

“Yo.” A tall, intimidating guy with blond, braided hair strolls in, with all the casualness of someone taking a trip to the convenience store.

You gape wordlessly at him from where you're sitting, still jolted from the lound and sudden bang. Who is this? What does he want?? Has he ever heard of knocking???

“Let’s go eat, Mitsuya, I'm hungry as fu– oh, sorry, didn't see you there.” he strides into the room, pausing when he sees you. You can only blankly nod in response, the movement itself almost pure instinct, brain still running on fight or flight mode.

A light chuckle comes from your right, and you shift your gaze to the lilac haired male sitting next to you. He shoots you a reassuring smile before turning his attention back to the blond, now standing in front of him.

“Gimme a moment, yeah? I'm almost done here.” He motions to the school jacket in his hand. Your school jacket, actually. You accidentally ripped it while you were at school, and Mitsuya insisted on helping you fix it, waving away your voiced worries of taking away his precious lunch time.

He returns to the current task at hand, hands swiftly and fluidly sewing the tear up, masterful after years of practice. Your gaze returns back to the blond guy as he pulls up a chair from one of the nearby tables and plops down across from Mitsuya. They seem familiar with each other, the way both are relaxed in each other’s presence.

“Oh yeah, this is Draken, by the way. The guy I was telling you about.” Mitsuya pauses briefly from his sewing to introduce the new person in the room. You immediately perk up at the familiar name. Well, that clears up a lot of things.

“Draken? The guy with the matching dragon tattoo?” You ask, eyes alight with intrigue. Draken snorts amusedly.

“I see you've heard the story.” He turns his head so you can see the familiar dragon tattoo inked into the left side of his head, the exact mirror of Mitsuya's. Your mouth forms into a little ‘o’ at the sight of it. “This tattoo is mine, by the way. Paid for it and everything.”

Another snort, from Mitsuya this time. “Right, I'm sure you paid for it fair and square.” A smile dances on his lips as he continues sewing, eyes focused.

“Hey, who was the one who ate all my rice first?”

“Um, excuse me…” Your voice turns Draken's attention back to you. “If you don't mind, could I take a closer look at your tattoo?” You shyly ask the blonde male.

His eyebrows raise at the bold request, and you hurriedly add on to your previous question. “It’s just that, I've seen Mitsuya's one before, but I couldn't really get a full view due to his hair covering most of it. It seemed really cool, so…”

The explanation seems to placate him, and he smiles reassuringly, the sight easing some of your nerves. “Yeah, go ahead, knock yourself out.”

You brighten up at that, immediately moving your seat to Draken’s left and wasting no time in studying every detail of the tattoo.

“Woahh…it’s so different seeing it in its entirety! It really is beautiful…”

“Heh, right? I thought it would’ve been such a shame, leaving such a cool design to stay hidden in some dingy alley, so getting it as a tattoo was a no-brainer. Didn’t expect this guy over here to do the same, though.”

“Hahah, you really made the right decision. It fits you really well!”

“Yeah, and it fit with my name too, y’kno? Draken, dragon. Really helps with making a name for yourself.”

“Ooh, that’s a cool detail!”

As you ooh and aah over the inked dragon on Draken’s head, unconsciously shifting closer and closer to him, you don’t notice how Mitsuya pauses in his work, quietly staring at the two of you with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Have you seen the actual mural? It’s way bigger than this tattoo.”

“I haven’t, actually.”

“If you want, I can bring you sometime—”

“[name].” Mitsuya cuts in loudly, both your heads snapping towards him at the sound. He raises the repaired jacket in his hands with a smile that doesn’t really seem to reach his eyes. “The jacket’s done.”

“Oh!” You hop off the stool and gratefully accept the jacket as he walks over to hand it to you, lilac eyes never leaving your figure as you slip your arms through the sleeves, blissfully unaware. “Good as new! Thank you so, so much, Mitsuya.”

His eyes soften at your sincere words, a warm smile naturally finding its way onto his face at your happy expression. “No problem at all, [name].”

“I’ll get going, then. I don’t wanna take up anymore of both of your lunch time.” you say, turning around to leave. You shoot Draken a wave as you walk past. “Bye, Draken! It was nice meeting you; maybe I’ll take you up on that offer to see the mural sometime.”

“You too, [name]. I’ll see you around.”

Mitsuya coughs lightly, and the sound prompts you to continue moving towards the exit. He follows closely behind you, reaching forward to open the door before you can.

“Thank you again, ‘tsuya.” You say once more, turning to him with a bashful grin.

He huffs amusedly. “Like I said, it’s no problem at all. You can come to me anytime if you have any problems.” Your lips curl up even more at that, cheeks tinged with the slightest pink.

“Also,” He lets out another light cough, and you can’t help but take note of the way his ears are tinged red, how he suddenly seems to be avoiding your gaze. “You don’t…have to take Draken up on his offer.” he quietly says, words slowly turning into mumbles, the red from his ears slowly spreading to his cheeks. “I can bring you…if you want. And,” His face is fully red at this point, words so quiet you had to lean in to hear them. “if you want to look at the tattoo up close, you can just look at mine anytime…” he trails off, eyes looking anywhere but you.

You gape at him. This was something you definitely weren’t expecting. Despite your surprise, you can’t stop the giddy smile spreading across your face, giggling as you try to hold back your teasing. He’s already flustered enough; you suppose you’d spare him, just this once.

“Okay then.” You wave at him as you step out, eyes twinkling with mirth. “See you, ‘tsuya!”

Mitsuya watches your figure go until you disappear from his sight, sighing in relief and slight disbelief as he closes the door to the club. He hadn’t really planned on saying that, but the words just… slipped out. Something about the way you looked at him made them bubble up until he couldn’t contain them any longer. At least your reaction was positive.

He turns around, fully prepared to put the whole thing behind him, only to be greeted with a razor-sharp grin. Draken wiggles his eyebrows at him, looking like a cat that just caught its prey. “So…someone got jealous, huh?”

Mitsuya lets out a suffering groan. “Please. Don’t tell anyone. You didn’t see anything.”

Draken cackles. “Maybe I’ll consider it if you buy me a karubi don.”

He’s so telling everyone.

#second part because the brain rot did not stop #draken felt a little ooc here im sorry for that 😞#but anw jealous mitsuya 😋 i hope i did him justice #mitsuya #mitsuya takashi #mitsuya x reader #mitsuya takashi x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #draken #my writing

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kiaxet · 1 year

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HOW ABOUT THAT @somerandomdudelmao DISASTER TWIN REUNION, HUH

Went a little feral to the tune of 2.2K words of self-indulgence. What else is new?

~~~~~~~

Donnie can't sleep. More accurately, he won't sleep. Not until he's done. He'd never been one to leave a project unfinished; death and resurrection hadn't changed that.

He taps incessantly, repetitively, on a keyboard and screen, the motions long since past inputting data and now only serving to keep him awake. The repetition is soothing, easy, and - counterintuitively - he finds his head drooping forward into sleep-

And he snaps back upright. No. Not until he can confirm Leo is okay.

Leo is behind him, he knows. Breathing. In bed. Asleep. Very much alive. And-

He jumps and whips around as a thud sounds behind him. "What the-"

Leo is on the floor.

Well, that answers the question as to whether his twin is awake.

For a fraction of a second, part of him wavers uncertainly. He loves his idiot twin. The question he hasn't been able to answer is whether his reaction to Leo waking up will fall on love or idiot twin-

"Leo!"

He can hear the exasperation in his voice, and yep, it's the latter. He takes a knee next to Leo and hauls him into his arms, lecturing him all the while, and if he can hear the annoyance in his voice then Leo sure as hell can. Sleep deprivation for the purposes of keeping his brother's soul alight had done nothing for his temper. "I swear to God, all you had to do was make a sound! Why are you such a difficult patient?"

He deposits Leo carefully on the bed - "Sit still!" - and checks him over, running every scan he can think of and making sure his brother's new body really is in good working order, spouting increasingly irritated commentary all the while. Of course the fall didn't hurt him - Leo is tougher than that, and Donnie does better work than that - but he still can't help the rising anxiety in his throat.

This almost didn't happen.

"-stupid, stupid selfless idiot!"

Donnie almost couldn't save him.

"Grrhh-"

Leo nearly died for real. Permanently beyond Donnie's reach. Well and truly gone-

"Do you have any idea how close you were to having nothing left to save?"

And now here Leo is, in perfect health, sitting on Donnie's bed with a big dopey grin on his face as Donnie chokes on his anxiety and damn near shakes himself apart-

Oh for fuck's sake.

"Hey. Are you even listening?"

Leo speaks up for the first time since he's woken up, voice shaky from disuse. "D-Donnie?"

And that is not a goddamn answer to anything Donnie has been saying, because of course it isn't. It's Leo. He's always had his own priorities. "Yeah. No. You're not fucking listening." Donnie heaves a long-suffering sigh, sinking back into the routine comfort that irritation at his twin provides. "At least you're talking." Small favors. "Although I'm surprised you're not throwing your stupid jokes at me." Even smaller favors.

He stops short as Leo's hand closes around his wrist, drawing Donnie's arm to Leo's plastron. "You're real," his brother breathes, looking from Donnie's hand to Donnie himself with tears streaming down his face. "You're real!"

And then, in the space of a thought, Leo's joy breaks, his smile turning desperate. "Are you?"

For a moment, Donnie stares at his twin, wondering at the sudden change in expression. He takes a breath-

And the part of him that had lain dormant for so long after he'd woken up - the part of him that had been screaming for his twin's safety ever since they'd recovered the few scattered embers of Leo's soul - gasps to life, blooming like a time-lapse video of a flower and reaching to the edges of Donnie's soul. Leo had called it their twin sense, and Donnie hadn't had it in him to argue after a while. Whatever it is, it's back, connected to Leo's renewed presence, and-

Donnie's heart floods with emotions. Relief and joy sprout quickly and are nearly swept away in a tide of exhaustionanxietyfearfearfearfearFEAR-

But down beneath it all, steady against the rising wall of terror, is the little blue spark of hope that his brother always carried. His core. The thing that let him continue on in the face of insurmountable odds, and lent that same strength to everyone around him. A ninja's greatest weapon.

It's Leo. It's Leo-

And Donnie can't leave him alone in his fear. Not when there's no need for it. Not when they're safe.

He lets that breath out, and sits next to Leo on the bed. "Mhm. I'm alive. And you're alive. We're safe. The Krang are gone." That's all the news that's fit to print, or at least the most important parts. What else does he have to say?

Oh.

"I'm sorry I..uh…"

He's sorry he what? Died? Left a mess for Leo to deal with? Didn't do enough while he was alive to keep everyone else alive in turn after he was gone? Kept his brother's soul in a fucking mug, because that was the only way he could ensure he wouldn't break it while Leo was still fragile? All of the above?

…yeah, it's all of the above.

He owes Leo one hell of an apology, and he's never been good at any of this, so instead he shrugs haplessly and leans forward, pulling Leo into his arms and hanging on tight.

It's a matter of moments before Leo has him flat on his shell on the bed and is sobbing into his arms. Normally he'd hate seeing his twin cry, but it's proof of life - proof that Leo made it, that his soul is intact enough for him to still be Leo, that he's alive and awake and here - and Donnie will take it.

And if he's squeezing Leo back pretty hard himself, well, that's fine too. Nobody else needs to know.

~~~~~~~

Donnie is yelling at him.

Donnie is strong enough to have picked Leo up off the ground, well enough to be on his feet without support, running tests and reading Leo the riot act over his latest boneheaded maneuver - in this case, forgetting he was missing an arm and falling out of bed.

Donnie is yelling at him, because Donnie is here to yell at him.

And Leo is smiling, because he couldn't be happier. He lets the words wash over him, draping over his shoulders like a favorite cozy blanket that he'd lost so many years ago, and he basks in the warmth that is his brother's voice and smiles.

It's enough to interrupt the yelling for a question, though he doesn't really hear it - just keeps smiling, and says Donnie's name, and it's so nice to be able to say it with a smile now, because Donnie is here-

-he is, right? This isn't just a dying hallucination on Leo's part, right?

(It couldn't be- he remembers his death, remembers breathing his last, remembers being trapped- but this-)

He reaches out, taking Donnie's wrist in hand, and pulls his brother closer to him. "You're…real…" It certainly feels real - skin and scales, softer than his own, and his fingers barely fit all the way around the wrist instead of encircling them with room to spare - and he stares down at it, tears rolling down his face as he finally looks back up at his twin. "You're real!"

The Krang show you what you want to see.

The thought strikes him unbidden, turning his joy and relief to ice. It's a well-known fact: a Krang infection can show its host what they want to see, visions of comfort and family and home, and extract intel from the host's reactions. He knows that- he knows that, and-

And he'd died surrounded by Krang- and even if he couldn't see or hear or feel, he knows he'd been held captive-

But it's Donnie- he wants this to be real- he needs this to be real- he wants his twin back so badly he can't think, and the idea that this could be a Krang hallucination is almost too much to bear-

"Are you?" He can hear how choked the words are as they leave his lips, but he needs to know-

And Donnie stops, and sits down next to him, and tells him everything he wants to hear - everything he could've ever wished for. They're alive. They're safe. The Krang are gone. It all sounds too good to be true.

And then Donnie offers him an apology and a sad half-smile, pulling him into a strong hug-

And the ice in Leo's mind shatters in a flood of warmth as his twin sense opens for the first time since Donnie's death. He feels his twin's irritation, and deep-seated exhaustion, and a choking wave of guiltguiltguiltguiltguilt-

And beneath it all, steady and strong as ever, the thrum of unending determination, powered by an unfathomably deep well of love. It's the backbeat to the melody of Leo's life, the point-counterpoint to his own heartbeat- it's something he'd never had to live without until he did, but it's back, rushing in to fill the silence he'd known with the strength to go on and the knowledge that he is loved loved loved, strong and overwhelming and all-encompassing in the way only Donnie can love-

It's something the Krang could never imitate.

This is real. This is all real-

He throws himself against his twin, toppling them both over on the bed as he clings to Donnie, unable to stand even a fraction of an inch of space between them, as though he could push their hearts together through their plastrons, and he cries, sobbing out worry and terror and grief and the slow, crushing exhaustion of a losing battle finally lost. He cries as though the world was ending - and it had, once when the Krang had invaded and again every time he'd lost a member of his family, over and over until he'd sent his last hope through a portal that had cost his littlest brother his life and succumbed to death himself.

And now he's alive. Here, wherever here is, with Donnie. Clinging to his twin, and being held in turn as Donnie gently sits them both up, never letting go as Leo cries himself out.

It takes a while - long enough for Leo's gaze to settle into a stare and his thoughts to settle into a comfortable static. He's alive, Donnie is alive, and he has no fucking idea what else is going on, but he's just going to be okay with that for now.

His thoughts rouse enough to inform him of something wrong - the line of tension Donnie is carrying down his neck and over his shoulders. That won't do. Leo could try to massage it out with one hand, maybe try to get Donnie to talk about it, but Donnie never likes to talk about it, and Leo isn't one for slowly soothing away tension when he can just take an axe to the release valve instead. Plus, it gives him something definite to focus on, instead of…this whole situation. Whatever 'this whole situation' actually is.

Donnie had mentioned his stupid jokes, right?

"H-hey Dee?" His voice wavers from disuse, thick with tears, but he pushes through. "Why did- why did the tree buy a camera?"

"What?" Oh, Donnie is not going to see this coming. Excellent.

"To do a photosynthesis." It's nowhere near the level of pizazz he normally uses for a punchline delivery - he's still too tired and frazzled and clinging to Donnie entirely too hard for that - but that beautiful pause of a terrible joke sinking in tells him it had hit home nonetheless. Donnie moves - he can hear the telltale slap of face meeting palm - and then breaks down into helpless laughter, smacking the back of Leo's shell as the tension Leo had felt in his twin's shoulders abruptly relaxes. Good. It worked.

"This is so fucking stupid," is all Donnie manages as his laughter fades, and he slumps fully against Leo with a murmur. That's...abrupt. Sure, Leo had felt Donnie's exhaustion, but he hadn't realized it'd been that bad. He takes hold of Donnie, gently laying him down on the bed to rest-

Remember what happened last time Donnie fell asleep next to you.

He gasps sharply at the thought - not again NEVER again - and keeps his hand steady as he moves, laying both fingers gently against Donnie's neck and feeling for his pulse. It's easy to find, strong and steady and even, like it had been before the infection had taken Donnie's vitality and then his life.

But he's alive, and healthy, and sleeping. He's okay. And Leo-

Leo moves his hand to the side of his own neck. His pulse is also easy to find, quickened with the adrenaline of an unknown situation and multiple consecutive shocks to his system.

Okay. Take stock. Assess. Figure out a plan from there.

He's alive. Donnie's alive. The Krang are gone. And everything else…is a big fat question mark, with no easy answers and no indication as to where to begin looking for them.

Well.

Uh.

"What the fuck," Leo whispers to the room at large, as though the walls could answer.

~~~~~~~

(A world away and still very close, a younger pair of twins cling to one another the way a drowning man clings to driftwood: desperately, clutching tight, as though letting go will spell their doom. Neither of them know where the emotions came from, or why; all they know is that each of them are damn glad the other is alive, and they'll do everything they can to make sure that continues to be the case.)

(What the fuck, indeed.)

#rottmnt #cass apocalyptic series #future leo #future donnie #fic #writing #cw sibling death #mention of it at least #referencing the scrapped movie storyboards because it's too good a beat to pass up #we have fun here #no gods no betas we die like NOBODY BECAUSE DONNIE FUCKING FIXED IT #I GUESS #twin sense shit is my FUCKING JAM #inexplicable mystic bonds between two halves of a whole? sign me the FUCK up #I couldn't decide whose POV to write this from so I just did both #which is WHY it's 2K+ words #it's not perfect but it's Good Enough and therefore it's getting posted #fuck it we ball

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cheriladycl01 · 8 months

Text

How the fuck has a bird been the reason I DNFed - Grid x Driver! Reader

Plot: Y/N is racing in Silverstone when a Pigeon flies into her and is stuck to her while she's driving at 200mph around the track until it starts to fly away but gets pulled under the car and causes Y/N to crash out.

"Y/N you are currently P2, Lewis ahead 2.6 second gap" your radio engineer says.

"Copy, increasing" you report.

Sky Sports: Commentator - It's really been a fantastic race at Silverstone, with only 4 laps left to go, it's looking like a Lewis win, Y/N behind him in P2 and Oscar Piastri who just overtook Max Verstappen. WHAT'S THIS Y/N JUST HAD A BIT OF A TWITCH ON TRACK! She remains steady but... was that debris? Commentator - Lets look at that on-board, to me it looks like Y/N's had a bird attack. Oh woah yeah look at that, it flies straight into her. She flinches which is what that twitch was, but she's recovered so well and the birds still in there with her. Commentator - Let's look at that radio.

Y/N Radio: Y/N - A fucking bird just flew into me Radio Engineer - Copy that Y/N - What do you mean copy that, what do i do. It's covering my vision from the left with its wing! Radio Engineer - Go into turn 14, and try shift it off. If not then pull it off on the straight Y/N - I'm driving 200mph and you want me to take my hands off the wheel?

As you swoop round that corner the bird manages to jump out all on its own, without you having to nudge it, where you were slower. However next thing you know as your speeding down the straight is you see a large mass get sucked under you car. You car jumps slightly with the intrusion under the car and you spin a little, recovering it once again.

"Fuck fuck" you mutter to yourself as the car starts to spit the engine.

"Did you just take the bird under the car?" you engineer asks and you let out a small whimper. You couldn't believe you'd just killed a bird with your car.

"The car's fuck-" you start, but something gives out in you car and in a freak accident your car skids as you attempt to break. However with the motion of your car clipping the race edging you car flips over multiple times. Where you car was flipping, the gravel wasn't much help to slow you down, and you colliding into the barriers was the only thing you remembered.

Sky Sports: Commentator - And what a nasty crash that is for Y/N, really unfortunate where she was gaining on Lewis. And i think that's a red flag because of the amount of debris and that crash. Everyone's being called back to the pits and the Red Bull Team are looking extremely worried for their youngest driver. Commentator - this just isn't looking good David, no Marshalls have arrived on scene, Y/N isn't replying to her Engineer... everyone in the pits looks worried. These are those crashes that, you just really don't know the outcome...

Y/N Radio: Radio Engineer - Y/N please come in, Y/N are you okay? *Static* Radio Engineer - Y/N, the Marshalls are nearly with you, if the radio is broken, please just give us a hand gesture of something. *static* Radio Engineer - Christian, she's not replying Y/N - How- Radio Engineer - Y/N! Y/N - How the fuck has a bird been the reason I DNFed

Sky Sports: Commentator - Her voice sounds a little strained but, she's getting herself out that wreck as the Marshalls approach. The car engine has just caught alight as well, so the Marshalls will need to look at that.

You pulled yourself out, before putting a week thumbs up to the fans who were all standing round near the barrier waiting to see if you really were okay!

Marshalls came running over, two of three going to defuse the car and the others coming to check on you.

"You okay kid?" a man asks you, you had your arm wrapped round the front of you, by your ribs. They were most definitely bruised for sure.

"Smells like a fucking fuel infused Christmas dinner" you shout over the loud noises of the crowd and the car being put out before pointing at the roasted Pigeon on the floor next to your car.

The medic bursts out laughing, happy to see that you were okay and cracking jokes.

"Fuck, I just lost P2" you say kicking some of the gravel. You look up seeing the medical car come up to you. You walk over to it explaining your okay, but they refuse saying they need you to come in for observation.

After a long time in observation coming out with a mild concussion, bruised ribs and a sprain you were sent back to see the last few laps of the race. You saw some crew from various new channels film you, making you wave and smile.

You saw Christian and he immediately came from the Pit Wall pulling you into a hug.

"Hey its okay, it's okay! I'm just glad you are okay. That was a freak accident and there wasn't much else we could have done" Christian says rubbing your shoulder.

Everyone was happy too see you, Max ended up overtaking both Oscar and Lewis, coming in first place as a make up for what happened with you.

After the podium you were directed to post race interviews.

"Well, Y/N what a race that was. Could have been a race win but ... talk us through what happened" Will says looking at you and pushing the mic forward.

"Well, its uncommon but yeah. I was driving, pigeon flew into my cockpit and gave me the scare of my life. It hit my chest and helmet hard which caused that spin. And from there on it was a shit show, and I ended up crashing. Considering that wasn't a crash with another car, that's one of the worst I've been in! I blacked out and don't remember too much" you explain and he nods in thought.

"Yeah, you definitely had us all worries there! That's up there with the nastiest crashes I've witnessed. We're just all glad your okay!" he smiles and with that your sent off.

You went online to see everyone making memes of you and the bird and your funny radios.

All the other drivers had messaged you to make sure that you were okay, and you'd been treated to dinner by Max and Christian who felt bad about your scare today.

But overall, if you ever see a bird on the track again, you'll probably cry!

A/N: Just a small little drabble!

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #max verstappen x you #charles leclerc #charles lecrelc x reader #lando norris #lewis hamilton #max verstappen #sebastian vettel #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri #yuki tsunoda

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acapelladitty · 4 months

Note

Just a cute lil idea that’s stuck in my head even though it’s probably very out of character for the ghoul but cooper carrying reader through the wasteland when she has a fever and bonus point if he lets her wear his hat

Aye aye captain 🫡 have this little thing! 💋

And In Health

Pairing: Cooper Howard/Fem!Reader

Summary: Falling ill as you travel through the wastelands, Cooper is forced to take care of you. Sadly, not in the assassin way.

Fic Masterlist

Link to AO3

Dropping against the wooden information board which was too rotten and devoid of actual intel to be of use to anyone, your body chose to add to the mess surrounding the small board you as you drop your head to the side and vomit once again - the burn making your eyes water as you retch pathetically.

The fourth time you'd been sick that day, not that you were counting.

Having moved in silence for the last while, Cooper had been maintaining a rapid pace which you struggled to meet as your worsening condition hadn't proven too much of a hindrance until stopping for a moment had apparently allowed each element of your various ailments to assault you like a bonafide firing squad just waiting in the shadows.

"Not looking too hot, sweetie. Something you ate?"

"Probably." Groaning out the word, the taste of bile stings in your throat as you gaze up at him with bleary eyes. "Knew that meat you roasted up was foul."

Standing with a straightened spine, Cooper gazes back at you and you can feel the heat of his assessment like a host of ants crawling across your sweat-slicked skin.

"Didn't do me no harm. Quack doctor in the next town would have what we need for you to get that sweet ass back on the move. Chem, stim packs, hell - he probably has shit stowed away that even I wouldn't take. And that's a very, very small list."

Not trusting your voice as you keep your focus on breathing evenly, a sick hope alights in your gut as you blink up at Cooper and take in his contemplative musings.

"Can you walk?"

You shake your head carefully, every movement making your brain feel inflamed as even that small motion sparks fresh nausea in your throat.

Cooper grunts with displeasure at that, making no effort to hide his growing irritation with your pitiful state.

"Can you defend yourself here while I go and fetch what we need? That nasty little projectile skill you've developed there should keep the worst of the raiders and deathclaws away."

With inhumane effort, you raise your hand enough to flip him off very shakily before dropping your wrist back to your lap, the mild effort making your joint tremble and ache.

With a deep sign, Cooper shifts his body as he bends towards you. Strong hands lock around your frame as they pull you heavily to unsteady feet before swinging you up into his arms - the motion making you dry heave as you carefully tilt your head away from his body.

"Can't have you dying on me, sweetie. You owe me twenty caps after proving to be the shittiest gin rummy player I've ever had the misfortune to share a table with."

Held bridal-style against his chest, the little showcase of strength is enough to make you hum out an interested noise as his hands wrap around your knees and upper body. Borderline delirious as your vision swims and shakes, you swear you can hear the tiniest hint of genuine concern hidden beneath the sarcasm in his tone but you chalk it down to the ravages of infection.

The scent of him floods your senses as you tilt your head to push your face more roughly into his chest, desperately trying to block out the sun as it threatens to burn the life out of your eyes. Leather mixed with the definite tinge of coppery violence which always seems to hang around him is the most potent scent he usually carries but this close, with your nose practically touching his skin, you can pick up the faintest notes of sweat and natural musk which his lifestyle often hides.

"Coop-Cooper?"

"For someone on the brink of death you sure do seem to want to yap your hole a lot." Grumbling, he indulges you regardless as he begins to stride quickly in the direction of the town hosting the quack doctor he seems to know. "But what do you want?"

"Will...'m gonna die?"

"Oh, I doubt that. Too stubborn for sure. Why? You got a final request in mind? I don't sing so you're shit out of luck for a funeral chant."

Too out of it to think up anything witty as a comeback, a hiss escapes your lips as his head shifts and the sun glares down into your squinting face - the sudden brightness like an inferno alighting behind your sockets.

Sighing, Cooper bends his body enough to allow his curved knee to support your legs as his hand slips free from beneath your knees. In a single fluid movement, he pulls the weathered cowboy hat from his head and drops it across your eyes; the instant darkness soothing your pains a little as the scent of fresh sweat and leather swirls across your senses.

"Thank you." You squeak out your gratitude, the second word more of a noise than a word as Cooper slides his arm beneath your knees - once more pulling you close as he continues his journey.

The hat acting as a delightful barrier to the harsh rays of the sun as he refuses to acknowledge your thanks, your weakened grip on remaining conscious seems to flee you in an instant as you allow the steady beat of Cooper's heart to lull you into a restless nap.

#thank you for the ask love!! have something a little more muted and sweet #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #the ghoul #ghoul x reader #cooper howard x you #ghoul x you #cooper howard fic #fallout amazon #fallout tv series #fallout fanfic #walton goggins

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dixons-sunshine · 1 month

Text

Yielding Isn’t My Middle Name—Chapter 4 | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

(GIF by @dixonscarol)

Chapter Summary: The arrival of Liam’s brother could only mean trouble. However, you and Daryl had to keep up your facades and win their trust. That should be easy, right?

Warnings: Swearing, talks of attempted SA, attempted murder, just read with care.

Word count: 3.1k.

A/N: It’s finally here. Chapter four. I can’t believe I actually finished this. It’s not great but it’s way better than the last chapter, in my opinion. (I made a few references to the show and past episodes in this. I’m genuinely interested to know how many of you catch them lol.) Anyways, I hope you like this!

Taglist: @dixons-girl89 @jupiter1700 @enlightndone @shadowcitrine @ddamm @caseylicious @celtic-crossbow (comment/DM to be added/removed!)

“Liam, why didn’t you tell me that I would be in the presence of such beauty? I would’ve worn my best rags for this occasion.”

“Oh, please, brother. You and I both know that you aren’t capable of dressing to impress,” Liam countered with a smirk. However, he turned back to you and Daryl, his eyes alight with something you couldn’t quite decipher. “Say, the two of you must be dying of thirst. Where is Mariah?”

As if being summoned, Liam’s wife entered the room with a tray of drinks. A glass of wine, presumably for Daryl, a glass of scotch, presumably for Liam, and a glass of water, which you knew was yours. Mariah placed the tray down on the coffee table in the living room, wiping her hands on her shirt. Her eyes nervously darted between Liam and Lucas, the strange man that had flopped himself down on the couch a mere two minutes prior.

“Hey, Mariah,” Lucas greeted her in a flirty manner. “How’s life been treating you, beautiful?”

Before Mariah could open her mouth to speak, Liam interjected. “Bugger off, Luke. You know she’s spoken for. In fact, so is she.” He vaguely motioned over to you. “Sorry for my brother’s vulgarity, mate. He has absolutely no filter,” Liam apologized, regarding Daryl with an apologetic look. The Sunny Meadows’ leader, seemingly struck by a sense of realization, shook his head and readapted the smile you were growing to hate. “How about we each take a seat and discuss your stay with us? It would do us good to get to know each other better, don’t you think?”

Your eyes nervously flitted to meet Daryl’s cerulean ones. The archer both simultaneously exhibited a sense of nerves and a sense of determination, though he managed to uphold his tough facade in the eyes of the people who didn’t know him, and you mentally applauded your husband for being able to do so. You were hurting, exhausted, and about two seconds away from either breaking down, or throwing punches. There was absolutely no in-between.

“Please, do sit down.” Liam practically shoved his brother’s feet off the couch to take a seat next to him, before motioning to the couch across from him. “Let’s have a chat.”

You hesitated for a split second, before sighing and ultimately accepting his offer. If you and Daryl had any chances of escaping, it would have to start with getting on Liam’s good side. If you earned his trust, he would be less inclined to have armed guards following you around, meaning that you and your husband could potentially then have a clear shot at escaping. There was seemingly no other way to go about it. You could only hope that Daryl would go along with your plan.

Daryl reluctantly joined you on the couch. With your husband by your side, you felt more at ease under Liam’s intense green-eyed stare. When Liam leaned forward to grab his glass of scotch, you leaned forward to grab your glass of water, as well as the wine for Daryl. You then turned your head to thank Mariah, but you quickly noted that the leader’s timid wife was nowhere to be spotted. She had seemingly made herself scarce, another fact you locked into the depths of your mind for potential future use.

“So, tell me, what are your skills?” Liam began while taking a leisure sip of his drink. “What could the two of you contribute to our community?”

Shit. You couldn’t tell the truth in this situation, could you? If they knew the true extent of your’s and your husband’s abilities within and outside of a community, would they somehow use it to their advantage? Would they force the two of you to hard labour? Would they kill you if they deemed you too dangerous? You didn’t know, and not knowing made you nervous.

“M’a good fisher. Know my way ‘round a fishin’ rod. M’also a decent gun’s man, but I don’ feel confident in my skills to say m’good,” Daryl quickly and smartly responded to the question, cleverly noting that you wouldn’t be able to quickly improvise at that moment. “She ain’t usually part of my designated run crew ‘cause I choose to keep her outta harm’s way, but our camp got overrun and s’jus’ me and her now. Was teachin’ her the ropes when yer men kidnapped us and brought us here.”

“Oh, no. I don’t like that word. ‘Kidnapping’ sounds so harsh,” Liam interjected and shook his head. He placed his glass down on the coffee table before continuing. “We don’t kidnap people. We save them. We get them off the harsh streets of this new world and give them a new sense of purpose. We give them a place to call home. The two of you were on your own out there. You just admitted to it. We didn’t have to bring you here, but we did. We saved you.”

“What, so yer community’s the world’s saviours or some shit?” Daryl grumbled under his breath, his fingers tightening around his glass, his wine left untouched.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Lucas cut into the conversation, his green eyes—similar to his brother’s eyes—regarding Daryl with an intensity that would have any man trembling in their boots. However, Daryl wasn’t just any man. He stared back at the Davis brother with an intensity of his own.

Liam—either extremely smart or extremely stupid—interrupted the intense stare-off with the clearing of his throat. He clapped his hands twice and stood up from his seat. “No need for the hostility, gentlemen. We’re all mature, responsible, reasonable adults here. No need to rip one another’s throats out.”

“He’s right,” you agreed, shooting Daryl a look that he cleverly knew meant he needed to back off a bit. “I’m so sorry, Liam.” You feigned an apologetic tone. Truth be told, you’d quite enjoy seeing Daryl put an arrow in Lucas’ rear end, but it would do neither of you any good at that moment. You had to remain civilized with these people, no matter how difficult it proved to be. In your mind, there was no other way to go about leaving that place. You had to gain their trust, and then strike. It was the only way.

Liam shook his head and motioned over to the door adjacent to him. “Perhaps talking to you both one-on-one is the best course of action here. Daryl, if you’d be so kind, I’d love for you to join me so that we can have a nice chat.”

No. The simple word of denial was resting right on the tip of the archer’s tongue. He was one breath away from uttering that small word that could classify as a complete sentence. However, the knowledge that he could potentially gather vital information that could help with your escape from that place proved to his utmost concern at that particular moment. So instead of yielding to the urge to deny Liam’s request, he pushed his pride down to the depths of his being and nodded. “Alright. Let’s jus’ get this over with.”

Liam sent Daryl a satisfied smile. “I like your style. Indeed, let’s get it over with. The sooner we’re done, the sooner we can get you both settled into your chambers. Please, follow me.”

Daryl spared you one last glance, his eyes trailing from yours down to your abdomen, a silent promise that he would somehow get you both out of there, before getting up from his seat and disappearing into—what you assumed to be—the office. The door shut behind him, effectively cutting you off from hearing what the man was discussing with your husband. It also cut your husband off from seeing and hearing what was going on outside the room.

It cut him off from Lucas’ unnerving gaze, a gaze that rested solely on you at that moment.

You cleared your throat and finally brought the glass of water up to your lips, the cool, refreshing liquid disappearing down your throat. You had never wished to be able to drink alcohol before more than you did at that moment. However, you didn’t just have yourself to think of anymore. There was a life growing within you, and you’d be damned if you put their life in jeopardy just because you wished for some liquid courage.

“So,” Lucas began, effectively snapping you out of your thoughts. His eyes trailed over your form in a provocative manner, and it made you want to hurl. However, you refrained from doing so, instead allowing a small shiver of disgust to trail over your spine. “What’s your story?”

“My story?” you questioned confusedly. Of everything the British-accented man could have asked or said at that moment, you definitely hadn’t expected that. “What do you mean?”

“Well, just that. What’s your story? How have you survived this long? I mean, just the two of you on the road since all of this began? It seems impossible that you haven’t kicked the bucket by now.”

You had to refrain from rolling your eyes. You didn’t miss the way he had said “you”, and not “one of you”. You could clearly see what type of man you were dealing with. You cleared your throat, placed your glass on the table, and got up from your seat to take a few steps away from him. “We weren’t alone. We had a camp, with a whole bunch of people. It got overrun a few days ago. It’s been just us since then,” you explained, going with the lie Daryl had told them.

“So, that redneck, is he your husband or something?” Lucas inquired, getting up from his seat as well.

You hesitated, afraid to reveal that fact to him. However, you knew that Liam knew of your marital status, so there was no point in lying to the other Davis brother. “Yeah, he’s my husband,” you finally told him, taking another couple of steps back when Lucas started approaching you.

Lucas gave you a small smirk, one that had you rather scared. “And he makes you happy?” he asked in a low, dangerous tone.

You gulped nervously and backed up even more. “Yeah, he does,” you agreed, your heart beginning to pound against your ribcage.

“Do you love him?”

You were beginning to get extremely freaked out. The expression on the man’s face made you want to run and never look back, but where could you possibly go? He had you cornered. There was nowhere to run. “Of course I do,” you replied, your voice cracking slightly.

“As my brother’s right hand man, I have certain privileges when it comes to giving orders. If I tell our men to kill someone, they’ll do it, no questions asked. So...” Lucas trailed off, his voice low and dangerous as he cornered you against the wall. “If you truly love your husband like you say you do, and with love means you probably don’t want him to die, how about I make you a little proposition; you spend one night with me, and I don’t have your husband killed?”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Your mind was struggling to comprehend what the man had told you. You couldn’t even utter a single word. You were the exact definition of a deer caught in headlights. Lucas had you trapped against the wall, his arms caging you.

He moved one of his hands to tightly grip your chin. “I didn’t hear a no...” he trailed off with a wicked smirk. His other hand trailed down your face and down your body, his fingers trailing over the top of your jeans. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll take good care of you.”

Your mind finally caught up with you. You were in serious danger. You had to get out of that situation, and quickly. You didn’t have any weapons with you, due to the men from earlier having confiscated them. However, you could make out the distinct glint of a gun resting on the table in the far corner of the room. You had to get to it. However, you had to get out of the vile man’s grip first.

Your mind was in overdrive. You barely even noticed that you had somehow managed to grab an ornament from the shelf next to you, or that you had brought it over Lucas’ head. You only realized that fact when the man tumbled down to the ground and you were sprinting towards the weapon.

“You bitch!” Lucas roared loudly, stumbling while trying to get to his feet. “I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

The gun soon found its place in your hands. You were relieved when you noted that the weapon was fully loaded. That definitely gave you an advantage. However, your relief soon dissipated when you saw Lucas draw his own weapon from his waistband. You had to think fast. You couldn’t let the man kill you.

Before you could even fully process what you were doing, you cocked the gun and shot at the man. However, Lucas managed to duck in the nick of time, so instead of being shot through the chest, like you had intended, the bullet penetrated his shoulder instead, making the man stumble back down to the ground. That didn’t mean that the shot hadn’t hurt him, though. The scream of pain he had let out was damn near deafening.

You took a few steps closer to the man, prepared to end his miserable existence once and for all. However, a pair of arms encircled you and a cloth with a weird, chemical-like smell was brought up to your face. You thrashed around in the person’s embrace and tried to scream, but to no avail. Your vision quickly got blurry. The gun fell from your hand down to the floor, and you quickly followed suite when the person let go of you. The last thing you could remember seeing was your husband. He was struggling to get to you, held back by two other people you hadn’t even realized were in the house.

After that, everything went dark.

Daryl Dixon couldn’t remember the last time he had been as terrified as he was at that moment. You hadn’t woken up yet. Whatever they had used to knock you out was extremely potent. You had been out cold for hours, and that fact made Daryl scared. Were you okay? When were you going to wake up? Hell, were you even going to wake up? Were you... Daryl couldn’t even finish that last thought. He didn’t want to.

If Daryl’s calculations were correct, the two of you had been in that cell for a little over two hours at that point in time. After Liam had heard his brother yell, he had signalled for backup on his radio and had sprung into action. Daryl had instantly known that you were in trouble, and when he had seen that you were about to shoot Lucas and that some person had walked up behind you with something in his hands, he had wanted to grab him. However, he had been grabbed and pinned down and injected with something, rendering him unable to help you. After that, the two of you had been dragged down to a dungeon of sorts, where you both had been shackled to the wall.

Daryl wanted to kill Lucas. He didn’t know exactly what had happened that made you ditch your “we have to gain their trust to escape” mindset, but he knew it had to be something big if it meant you wanted to kill someone. You wouldn’t kill someone without a reason. You just weren’t that type of person.

The sound of metal doors opening had Daryl’s head snapping up. Liam emerged from the stairs, two men following behind him. Liam’s green-eyed glare met locked with Daryl’s blue-eyed one. However, the man simply opened up the cell and stalked in with the two men hot on his tail.

“How are you doing, mate?” Liam questioned. Daryl simply glared at the man, refusing to acknowledge his question, making Liam chuckle. The man crouched down in front of him. From up close, Daryl could clearly see a scar that tugged at the edge of his mouth. Had that always been there? “Oh, back to being the silent type, huh? Without your little wife to do all the talking for you, you’re not gonna be much use for information, are you?” When Daryl still didn’t say anything, Liam stood back up, towering over the archer menacingly. “Don’t worry, we have other ways to get information out of people. Plus it means we get to punish the wrongdoer in the process. It’s a win-win situation, don’t you think?”

Daryl didn’t like the sound of that threat. Liam turned around and walked over to your unconscious body, unlocking the chains from your legs and arms. The archer’s eyes widened in fear. “Wait, no! Don’ touch her!”

Liam simply chuckled as he continued working at the chains. “Oh, so you’re not completely mute. Still, it won’t do you much good now.” With the chains removed from your limbs, Liam harshly pulled you up into his arms, your unconscious body limply doing his bidding.

“Ya best let her go, ya fuckin’ asshole!” Daryl yelled angrily, desperately pulling against the chains that kept him shackled to the wall. Despite the furious facade the archer was keeping up, he was scared beyond belief. Where was this guy taking you? Would they hurt you? Would they kill you? He didn’t even want to entertain that last thought. “What are ya gon’ do to her?”

Liam, the man responsible for bringing the two of you to that hellhole in the first place, harshly pushed you into the arms of another man. He turned to Daryl with a wicked smirk on his face, the scar at the edge of his mouth adding to the cruelness the man exuded. Daryl would never admit it, but that look sent a terrified shiver up his spine.

“All I’m gonna say is that she never should’ve tried to kill my brother. Now she has to pay, just like everyone else.” With that, Liam turned back around and stalked out of the room with an air of arrogance around him. His henchmen followed closely behind, one of them dragging your unconscious body like you were nothing but a mere ragdoll.

As hard as Daryl pulled against the chains, as loud as he yelled, as much as he pleaded, it didn’t matter. The door to his cell was closed with a loud bang, leaving him in the darkness, alone with his own thoughts. As tears filled the huntsman’s eyes, only two thoughts remained on his mind; would he ever see you again, and would your unborn baby be okay?

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clockwork-ashes · 4 months

Text

Sparks and Shadows

Summary: Eris is surprised when Azriel comes looking for him at the Forest House (one-shot).

Note: Thank you to @ninthcircleofprythian @cauldronblssd and @teddyhoneybear for just being really nice :) Thank you to everyone who reads <3

“Don’t move.”

Eris listened to the command, but he knew it would take very little effort to simply set the Night Court’s best spy alight. Half a thought, and Azriel, along with his strange shadows, would be nothing but ash.

Their centuries-long dance of sorts, and Azriel would be acting as the lead tonight, Eris thought.

The torches in the room flared in warning as Eris leaned into Azriel’s touch in a silent challenge, one that the shadowsinger seemed prepared to accept.

Azriel kept a gloved hand tightly against Eris’s mouth, pressed the sharp point of truth-teller between his shoulder blades. Eris felt as the edge cut through his thin white shirt, he had been ready for bed, had not been dressed for such a guest.

Lips just touching the arch of Eris’s ear, Azriel murmured, “I’m going to move my hand.” Eris felt as truth-teller cut his skin, as the smallest drop of blood made a trailing path down his back. Azriel continued, “I don't want to hear a sound.”

Eris rolled his eyes, even though he knew the other male was unable to see the gesture. He grunted in response, and the hand fell from his mouth, instead wrapping around his throat.

Eris wondered if Azriel was doing that just to irritate him, as a reminder of the last time the other male had found himself in the Forest House, when their positions had been… switched.

Eris arched his neck, lifted a brow. “To what do I owe this visit?”

Azriel’s hand tightened uncomfortably around the Autumn heir’s neck. “I thought I told you to keep quiet.”

“That’s no fun,” Eris’s voice was strained, his breaths smaller. The fireplace on the room’s other side dimmed in response. Eris did not truly believe Azriel had come to kill him, he had had plenty of chances over the years and had never taken any of the countless opportunities to do so.

Azriel’s tone suggested he was serious, perhaps even desperate, unbelievably easy to read. “Nod if you know anything about the human queens.”

Eris tilted his chin, and Azriel said nothing for a long moment before loosening his hold.

“Then you’re still of use to me,” Azriel spat, shoving Eris away and stepping back to put some distance between them, truth-teller now in its sheath. “Tell me what you know,” he ordered, hazel eyes dark.

Eris rubbed at the sore skin of his neck and shrugged, looking at Azriel over his shoulder, lips tilted up in a mocking smile. “Why would I do such a thing?” He walked towards his dresser, grabbing an already opened bottle of cognac and filling the glass he had left there.

“Don’t play games, Rhysand is asking.” Eris scowled as he remembered the Night Court’s promise to support his bid for the throne. He offered the glass to Azriel who simply scrunched his nose in distaste.

“Be specific about the things you want, shadowsinger, I won’t be revealing all my secrets.” In a swift motion, Eris drank all the contents in the glass, setting it aside and relishing in the way it burned.

Some of the liquid had dripped down the corner of his mouth, and Eris flicked his tongue out slowly, letting it linger. Azriel tracked the movement with his eyes, wings flaring almost involuntarily. Eris had to fight to hold back a grin.

Azriel’s hands clenched into fists at his side,“I’ve heard whispers that your father has allied with a few of the queens.”

Eris watched as some of Azriel’s shadows danced around him, he leaned against his dresser, strong arms holding his weight and long legs stretched out, comfortable. “You’ve heard correctly.”

“Why?” Azriel asked through his teeth, clearly annoyed. The blue siphons he had in his leathers brightened for a moment.

Eris hummed elegantly in response, tracing the carved wood of his dresser with a finger. “When I find out, I’ll tell you.” Beron told him very few of his plans, especially as of late, but Eris always learned of what was happening within his own court.

Azriel took a few large steps towards him, wings wide to make himself seem larger. Eris looked up at him, but made sure his chin was tilted arrogantly, enough so to get on the other male’s nerves.

“Don’t lie, Eris.” His words were accusatory, perhaps even a bit disapproving.

Eris merely scoffed, “Don’t tell me what to do, shadowsinger.” Even though he had been telling the truth, Eris rather enjoyed being contrary.

Azriel sighed, ran a hand through his hair. “Meet with Rhysand and Feyre the next time you find yourself in the Hewn City.” Shadows began to whirl around him, his feet completely enveloped in inky darkness.

“Going so soon?” Eris drawled, toying with the laces of his shirt. “No kiss goodbye this time?” Eris was mocking, he had spent enough time around males like Azriel, too wrapped up in their own thoughts, confused about what they wanted.

Eris had been surprised the last time Azriel had come to his chambers, had kissed him after questioning him about the High Lord’s plans. Eris had been even more surprised at how easily he had been able to get the other male into his bed, at the desperate sounds that had fallen from the shadowsinger’s lips as he had let Eris do as he pleased.

All of the control had been in Eris’s hands, just as he enjoyed it.

Azriel seemed to have other plans this time, giving Eris no warning as he grabbed Eris by the back of his head, roughly pulling him so that their lips could meet.

Frantic, desperate, Eris gasped in disbelief and Azriel took the opportunity to lick at the seam of his lips, to stroke at his tongue with his own. The back of Eris’s thighs pressed into the dresser behind him, his arm came up to wrap around Azriel’s neck, fingers carding through the dark locks of his hair. When Eris pulled at the short strands, Azriel moaned against his mouth in approval.

Azriel’s wings came up around them, cutting them off from the rest of the world as their kiss deepened.

Eris felt as the shadowsinger’s hand tugged at his shirt, grabbed at the fabric clumsily. Pulling Azriel’s bottom lip between his teeth, Eris bit hard enough that he felt the skin split, tasted copper on his tongue.

Azriel flinched back, almost as though he had remembered where he was and who was with him. Wings snapping back quickly, he took a few quick steps away from the heir of the Autumn Court. He brought a hand up to wipe at the trickle of blood that dripped down his chin, raising his brows in shock.

Eris grinned as he watched Azriel, his voice thick with desire as he spoke. “We can continue this another night,” he said, waving a hand lazily. “I didn’t put on my silk sleeping clothes for you.” Azriel blushed, the tips of his rounded ears turning a dark shade of scarlet, but Eris continued. “I’ve promised my time to another, and I don’t know how she feels about sharing.”

Azriel simply cleared his throat, nodding in response. Eris found his embarrassment endearing. Amber eyes tracked the shadowsinger as he took a few more steps back.

“Good night, Azriel,” Eris added embers falling from the tips of his fingers as he waved a hand. In truth, he had not been expecting the Night Court spy to respond, he hardly ever did, letting shadows completely envelop him before he winnowed away.

As Azriel left the Forest House again without a word, Eris scowled at the disappointment that bloomed in his chest.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #eris vanserra #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azris #eris x azriel #ashes writes sometimes #thank you to everyone who takes the time to comment and reblog and like <3

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actuallysaiyan · 1 month

Text

Call Me Mom!(Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Reader)

warnings: fluff, Izuku calling reader mom by accident, blood, mentions of having children, awkwardness word count: 1k pairings: Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Reader summary: When Izuku accidentally calls you mom one day, you decide to have a talk with Inko to clear things up. But she's more than happy to know her son has someone else to look up to and that supports him... a/n: dividers by @adornedwithlight

It all happened so fast. Within a blink of an eye really.

“Thanks, mom!”

The words almost sounded like they came out of his mouth in slow motion. You looked over at young Midoriya, your eyes wide. Before any of you could say anything else, Toshinori is coughing up blood and excusing himself.

“Uh–no I mean thank you, sensei!”

But the words had already come out of Izuku’s mouth. Your heart was racing. Your mind was trying to catch up with everything else. Then you look down at the young man you were just helping with his equipment.

He’s blushing and muttering to himself, trying to make himself feel better about the blunder. You don’t even know what to say or how to react to make it all better. In fact, you’re muttering to yourself now, making Toshinori worry about the both of you. You feel a strong hand on your shoulder and when you turn to face your partner, you notice that he has such a soft smile on his face.

“It was an accident, dear. Right, young Midoriya?”

Midoriya nods his head, “Y-yeah!”

But this accident leads you to having dinner with the boy’s mom. His actual mother.

You fussed over what you’d wear. You were nearly tearing out your hair trying to look presentable. This was an important night after all.

Ever since you and Toshinori started dating, you have taken a liking to Izuku as well. How could you not? The boy was so charming, despite his neurotic and obsessive tendencies. Seeing him idolize your lover, you knew that Izuku was a genuinely kind person. And it didn’t take him long to become attached to you as well. That’s how you got into this mess anyway.

Toshinori is your rock in this situation. He rings the doorbell, a box of gourmet pastries shuffled in his hands. You try to smooth back your hair for the umpteenth time. You feel so nervous about this. You had never met Inko, but you heard lots of good things about her from both Izuku and Toshinori.

Izuku opens the door, his eyes alight with joy and idolization when he sees both you and Toshi in your best outfits. He invites you both in, guiding you to the dining room. You finally get a chance to see the home where Izuku grew up.

Inko is standing at the counter, her own cheeks slightly pink. When her son set this dinner up, she wasn’t quite sure how to react. But she knew that it was important for you and her to finally meet. Especially since Izuku wouldn’t stop talking you up.

“Mom, they’re here!” Izuku calls.

Inko gets a good look at you and she’s blushing even more. You aren’t sure how to react to any of this. Your hand clutches Toshi’s in a form of settling your already frazzled nerves. Inko turns to Midoriya, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

“ Izuku, you didn’t say she was so young! And you tell me they are dating?! ”

Her words cause your lover to cough up blood. You’re so quick to pull a handkerchief from your purse and you wipe the blood away. When Inko sees how tender you are with the older man, it’s obvious to her how much you love him.

Despite the little setback, dinner goes off without a hitch. You and Inko actually find you have much in common. And you even help her with the dishes afterwards. When Izuku leads Toshinori into his room, this gives you and her a moment to actually talk.

“I can see why you two are together,” she says as she hands you a plate to dry. “Toshinori-san is very taken with you.”

You blush and nearly drop the plate. “Huh?! Oh…we met through this job. When he started teaching, I found myself wanting to help him out.”

Inko laughs, “Izuku told me you were sweet. I’m glad I get to see this.”

You want to tell her about what happened the other day. You nervously look around before you turn to face her. Her eyes widen a little at your now serious face. Then she’s growing worried when you begin to cry.

“Inko-sama. I’m so so sorry! Izuku called me mom by accident the other day! I didn’t want to make this awkward and now I’ve gone and ruined everything! I’m so sorry.”

When you begin bowing to her, she knows she needs to stop you. With a motherly touch, she places her hand on your shoulder. Immediately you find yourself calming down. You sniffle softly, looking at her curiously.

“It’s fine. Really, it is. Please don’t apologize.” Inko smiles. “I’m so happy my son has someone else to look up to. And it’s only natural that he would see you that way.”

You cock your head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t see me as often as he used to. Me and Izuku used to do everything together. I know that he’s growing up and becoming stronger, but he needs someone to watch over him in a motherly way. And I’m glad it’s you.”

She pulls you into her arms, rubbing your back soothingly. You begin to feel so much warmth radiating from her. Inko was a very good mother, but there was something even more there that you couldn’t put your finger on. Izuku was a lucky boy to have her.

“Thank you. Inko-sama.”

She laughs., “No need to be so formal. Inko is fine.”

The two of you return to your task. Then she turns to you and smirks.

“So, I suppose this means you and Toshinori will be having children of your own soon?”

The question causes you to drop a plate this time. You turn to watch as your husband coughs up blood for the second time this evening, his eyes wide. Izuku and Inko look at each other and laugh.

“What’s so funny?! How can you laugh at a time like this?!” You ask, trying to pick up the pieces of the broken plate.

Izuku smirks. “Because you both had the same look on your face!”

Inko and Izuku both imitate you and Toshinori, leaving you and your partner just a little speechless. Then he takes your hand in his, smiling at you. Then he looks at Izuku.

“That would make you a big brother, wouldn’t it, young Midoriya?”

Izuku’s eyes widen and his cheeks burn. Toshinori gets the last laugh tonight.

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

©actuallysaiyan 2024– do not repost on other platforms, copy, translate or edit my works!

#bacon.writes #toshinori yagi x reader #all might x reader #all might x you #all might x y/n #toshinori x reader #toshinori x you #inko midoriya #dadmight #papamight #bnha #bnha toshinori #yagi toshinori x you

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ltash · 4 months

Text

Engulfed by Lust.

Your first time with Ghost.

Warnings: 18+, Implied Smut, Dark! Modern Warfare, Horny! Modern Warfare, Possessive Behaviour Modern Warfare, Dub-Con Themes, Forced Sex, Use of physical power, Pet Names, Profanity,

Part 2 of Hide and Seek.

I am coiled up like a venomous serpant

Tangled in your heart and I am certain

You've got your hooks in me.

The depth of my love for him was immeasurable, a flame that burned fiercely within me. I ln that moment I wanted to devour him whole, to show him just how much he meant to me. He may not have known the extent of my love, but with every touch, every kiss I hoped to convey the depths of my passion and devotion.

With trembling hands, I reached for his face, gently rolling the balaclava up to where his skull mask ended. Standing on my tiptoes, my lips grazed his before our lips met in a fervent kiss. I wrapped my arms around him, feeling the warmth of his embrace as our bodies pressed together.

His hands found my thighs, and with strength and ease, he lifted me up. I wrapped my legs around him, feeling the intimacy and connection between us intensify with every passing moment.

He pinned me against the wall, his gloved fingers digging into the skin of my thigh as one hand pressed firmly on my back, holding me close.

His tongue entered my mouth exploring every corner. As he bit my lip a moan escaped me, the sensation sending shivers down my spine.

Our tongues danced together in a passionate embrace, exploring each as our saliva mixed, igniting every pore of my being with desire and longing. The intensity of our connection was palpable.

His kiss was so intoxicating it felt like I was high on booze. Every touch sending electric shocks across my body.

He fisted my hair to tilt my head back to kiss my jawline, bite and suck my skin to give me marks to remember for the passion we share.

He broke the kiss, allowing me to catch my breath, before turning me around. With a deliberate motion, he pulled off his gloves and discarded them on the floor. His hands traced a path down my arms up to down and along my bare back up to down, igniting a trail of sensation that made me moan out his name.

"Simon!" His name escaped my lips in a breathless whisper, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure he elicited from me. In that moment, he was all I could think of, his touch setting my body ablaze with desire.

He tugged at both of the noodle straps of my slip dress, and they fell away, the fabric cascading down my body until I stood completely bare infront of him. With nothing left but my thong, I felt completely vulnerable. Every nerve in my body was alight with desire craving for his touch.

He licked the skin of my back with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine. A whimper escaped my lips as he turned me around and I instinctively covered my breasts. My eyes closed shut, my cheeks were red.

He grabbed my chin firmly. "Open your eyes," he ordered.

I obeyed, opening my eyes to meet his gaze, dark with desire. He gently took my hands, pulling them away from my body, exposing my perky breasts to his hungry gaze. He stepped back, his eyes flicking from my face to my chest.

"So pretty," he murmured, licking his lips, his words sending a wave of heat through me.

"Didn't know you were hiding these under there all this time," he murmured, his voice thick with admiration.

He grabbed my breasts with both hands kneading my soft mounds, his touch sending shockwaves of pleasure through me. As he bombarded my face with kisses, his bare hands pressed down on my breasts, his thumbs grazing my nipples, making me squeal with delight. Every touch, every kiss, intensified the fire between us, leaving me breathless and yearning for more.

He sucked and bit the skin of my neck, leaving a searing hickey that marked me as his.

His tongue traced a path down to the valley between my breasts, where he paused to lick the sensitive skin before taking one of my nipples into his mouth. He grazed the other with his thumb, sending shivers of pleasure through my body.

A sexy cry escaped my lips as he sucked my nipple, stealing my breath away. Waves of pleasure radiated through me, pooling wetness between my thighs and intensifying the craving for his touch.

He knelt down and pulled off his T-shirt, revealing his rugged, scarred body that shone in the dim light. The sight of him took my breath away.

He kissed below my belly button, making my body tremble with anticipation. Gently, he tugged down my thong, kissing his way down until it fell around my knees, leaving my wetness exposed and vulnerable before him, ready for him to devour. The intensity of the moment sent waves of desire coursing through me, my heart racing in anticipation of his next move.

He lifted one of my legs, kissing the inside of my thigh, driving me wild with anticipation. My breath came in shallow, fast gasps. "Look at you, pretty little thing, so wet for me," he murmured, lifting my other leg and placing both on his shoulders. He buried his mouth against my pussy, sending a raw moan escaping my lips as his tongue drew circles around my clit. My hips ground against his mouth, seeking more, while his hands gripped my waist, holding me steady.

"Si-Simon!" I moaned his name, my voice trembling with desire.

He didn't stop, his relentless teasing with his tongue to my clit pushing me closer to the edge. My toes curled as the pleasure built, teetering on the brink of release. He played with me like I was his toy, and I surrendered completely, letting him take me wherever he wished.

I held his hand tightly, reaching the edge of my release. My whole body jolted as I screamed in pleasure, the sensation overwhelming.

He let go of my legs and pulled me close, my soft bare body pressed against his rock hard one. My head rested against his chest, and I felt the rapid beat of his heart. Stars danced before my eyes as I tried to catch my breath, feeling utterly consumed by the intensity of our connection.

He scooped me up in his arms and carried me to the bed, placing me down gently. The pleasure he had given me left me intoxicated, my body still humming with the aftershocks.

I looked up at him, my eyes heavy with desire and gratitude, knowing this moment had sealed our connection in a way words never could.

"You ready now, aren't ya?" he asked softly, brushing my cheek with the back of his hand.

"Because I'm ready to take what's mine, luvvie," he said, his eyes locking onto mine, filled with a fierce, tender intensity.

His words sent jolts through me.

He sat back on his knees and took off his belt, my eyes following his every move in awe. With a swift motion, he unzipped his pants and pulled them down, tossing them aside. My eyes widened, taking in his thick, muscular thighs and the sculpted perfection of his body.

My gaze darted to the thick bulge in his boxers, anticipation building within me as I realized just how ready he was.

I sat up on my knees, tracing my fingers over his abs. "You are perfect," I murmured, my fingers lingering at the hem of his boxers.

The tension between us was electric, my touch light and teasing as I felt his muscles twitch under my fingertips.

I pulled him close, taking his lips into mine as he held me tightly.

My tiny waist fit perfectly in both of his hands as we kissed passionately.

My trembling hand reached down, feeling the outline of his thick cock beneath the fabric of his briefs, my breath hitching with anticipation. Breaking the kiss, I looked up at him, my heart pounding in my chest.

"What are ya afraid of love?" He teased, his voice low and husky with desire, with a slow, deliberate motion he pulled down his briefs, revealing his thick veiny cock. I gasped at the sight of him completely naked infront of me, the raw intensity of the moment overwhelming.

He took my hand wrapping it around his thick cock. I whimpered, feeling a surge of both excitment and apprehension at the sudden realization.

His girth far exceeded my expectation and I struggled to wrap my tiny hand around him completely. The sheer size of him left me feeling both overwhelmed and turned on.

"Liked it love?" He winked, his gaze smoldering with desire as he bit his lip.

"You chose me and choices have consequences," he said his voice low and commanding as he pushed me down into the bed. I gasped as I hit the mattress.

Instinctively I closed my legs tightly, feeling a mixture of nervousness and arousal coursing through me.

"Now, be a good girl and open your legs," he ordered, his tone firm and authoritative, sending a wave of electric shocks through me.

He pushed his hands between my thighs, attempting to open them despite my ressistance.

"Nu-uh." I pleaded, squirming slightly under his touch.

"Yu-uh." He said playfully. His determination evident.

Effortlessly, he spread my legs apart settling in between them and pulling me close by my waist. My resistance melting away in the heat of the moment.

I gazed at him, taking in the sight of his perfect body before he leaned in close, his touch both gentle and commanding. With one hand under my head and the other holding my hip, he whispered into my ear, "Will you be my good girl?"

In a lusty daze, I whispered, "Ahan..."

"Say yes, Sir!" he ordered, his tone leaving no room for disobedience.

I looked at him, my eyes pleading as I felt the weight of his dominance over me.

"Say it," he ordered again, his voice firm and unwavering.

"Yes, Sir!" I said, my voice trembling with both desire and submission, surrendering completely to his control.

"That's my good girl," he admired, his voice thick with desire.

I felt the tip of his hard cock teasingly rubbing against my wet pussy, sending delicious shivers of anticipation coursing through me.

A soft moan escaped my lips, betraying the pleasure his touch was bringing me. He was teasing me, driving me wild with desire as I longed for him to take me completely.

He grabbed both of my wrists in one of his hands, pinning them above my head as he stroked his cock with the other hand. My breath caught in my throat as I watched him, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness coursing through me.

Before I could fully comprehend what was happening, he pushed himself into me, catching me off guard. A searing wave of pain shot through me as he entered me, the sensation overwhelming and intense. I gasped, my body tensing as I tried to adjust to the sudden intrusion, my senses reeling from the shock of it all.

Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around him, my body arching as I writhed in pain beneath him resulting him thrust more deeper inside me.

"Si--" I could only utter this instead of his full name.

A mixture of painful cries and moans escape my lips. My heart racing a million miles and my breaths being shallow.

Tears cascaded down my cheeks as I felt my fortress of solitude being invaded, the overwhelming sensation leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable.

As I sank my teeth into his shoulder, seeking solace from the pain, a low groan slipped past his lips, echoing in the charged atmosphere. "Bloody hell," he gasped, his voice a mixture of pleasure and surprise.

His grip on my wrists tightened, and his fingers dug into the skin of my hip with raw intensity pulling me closer with a fierce urgency that sent waves of desire coursing through my veins.

As the waves of pain began to ebb, my cries transformed into tiny sobs, each breath a mixture of relief and lingering ache. "Feisty little thing," he whispered, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine.

"Ssh," he cooed, pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek, his lips a soothing balm against the turmoil within me. "It's over, princess. You're officially mine now," he declared, his words both possessive and tender, sealing our bond in the aftermath of passion and vulnerability.

As he withdrew slowly, a sharp intake of breath escaped me, the sensation causing me to tense. Crimson-tinged liquid adorned the space between my thighs, a testament to the intensity of our encounter.

"You're bleeding," he observed, his voice laced with concern as he pressed a gentle kiss to my cheek, his touch a soothing caress against the ache within me.

With a mix of desire and uncertainty, he posed the question, his eyes searching mine for consent. "You want me to continue?" he asked, his tone both tender and tinged with a hint of urgency, leaving the decision in my trembling hands.

With a quiver in my lips, I reached up and gently removed the mask from his face, revealing the captivating features beneath. My fingers traced the contours of his jaw, lingering on each rugged edge with a tender reverence.

"I've been waiting for this moment ever since I laid my eyes on you in that uniform," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper, heavy with longing and anticipation.

With a seductive bite to my lip, I voiced my deepest desire. His response was immediate and primal, as he leaned in, capturing my lips in a fiery kiss that left me breathless. In one swift motion, he plunged deep inside me, filling me completely, and I gasped at the delicious sensation.

My nails dug into his back as he groaned in pleasure, his words sending a shiver down my spine. "So fucking tight," he moaned, his voice thick with desire.

With a firm grip on my waist, he knelt before me, arching my back and sending waves of ecstasy coursing through my veins. I gripped the sheets tightly as his thrusts reached new depths, each one sending ripples of pleasure that seemed to resonate within the very core of my being.

My whimpers and moans echoed through the room, a symphony of pleasure and desire as his thrusts delved deeper, igniting flames of ecstasy within me. His commanding tone sent a thrill through my veins, and I obediently met his gaze.

"Feeling me inside your pretty little cunt, eh?" he questioned, his voice laced with dominance and desire, commanding my attention.

"Yes, Sir," I breathed out, my voice barely above a whisper, my eyes locked on his with unwavering obedience and longing. I surrendered myself entirely to him, lost in the euphoria of our shared intimacy.

Tears of ecstasy streamed down my face as I teetered on the edge of release, every sensation heightened by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through me. "You feel so good inside me," I gasped, my voice a breathless plea.

"Yes! Fuck me, Simon," I urged, my petite body rocked back and forth with each of his powerful thrusts, our connection intensifying with every movement.

"Fuck! You're so tight, babydoll," he groaned, his words pushing me over the edge of ecstasy.

"S-Simon!" I moaned his name as pleasure consumed me, a scream of euphoria escaping my lips as I reached the pinnacle of bliss.

As I trembled in his arms, he pulled me close, wrapping me in an embrace filled with love and tenderness. Our bodies trembled as the fire of our passion comes near to be extinguished. With one final pulse of his cock, he released himself inside me, filling me with his essence and sealing our bond in a moment of pure intimacy and connection.

My breaths slowed and my body trembled with the aftershocks of pleasure, he kissed my face with a tenderness that melted my heart. "I love you," he whispered, his words like a gentle caress against my soul.

My eyes fluttered closed, heavy with the weight of ecstasy and contentment. It was as if I had soared to the highest heights and gracefully descended back to earth, cocooned in the warmth of his embrace.

With a soft touch, he tucked us both under the duvet, wrapping me in his arms like a protective shield. As I nestled into his chest, the rhythm of his heartbeat lulled me into a deep, peaceful sleep, where dreams were woven with threads of love and passion, and the world faded away into blissful oblivion.

#cod ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #ghost x oc #ghost smut #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost smut

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amica-aenigmata-naboo · 4 months

Text

Blood Sport

Feyd Rautha x Y/N - drabble part 3 - 1.1K WC

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 (you are here!)

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6 NSFW 18+

Masterlist

Warnings: violence, blood, blood eating/drinking, killing of darlings, reader in pain, pretty fluffy, reader is just built different, semi knife throwing?, slow burn, this man is falling slowly for you but you're falling harder

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Feyd opened your chamber doors to see his star disc still alight. You rested against the headboard of your bed looking rather sickly. The color of your face was dull and you had heavy bags beneath your eyes.

“You again.” You croaked out, running a hand over your face. One of your nails cracked off, you groaned at the pain, sucking in a breath through your teeth.

“Me again.” He said with a slight look of concern. “Are you alright?” He looked around the dark room, the red glow from the star disc illuminated the empty jars you had originally brought with you from Succo. He remembered what they were filled with. “You’re… you drink…”

“Blood? Yes it is… an unfortunate affliction.” You sighed, steadying your breath as your head pounded.

“Affliction?” He questioned.

You motioned to your fangs, “The original Sanguines survived off the blood of their enemies. With less people challenging House Cruor, the need for fangs and blood faded out. Yet I was fortunate enough to get them. It is my shame to carry despite it being seen as a sign of power.”

“You’re hungry and it’s making you weak?” He asked, processing your words.

You nodded, “I could still take you.” You said flitting your broken nail at him.

He dodged it at the last second, “Oh I bet you could.” He licked his lips before picking up one of the empty jars and walking out of your chambers.

He returned some time later, you were on the edge of sleep. The door shutting startled you waking you up completely, you broke off another nail, ready to flit the sharp improvised weapon at him. “You just keep happening don’t you?”

“I’m known to be quite persistent.” He said with a smirk. He rounded the bed handing you a jar full of dark blood, darker than normal.

You looked up at him, eyebrows drawn together.

“My darlings must be disposed of before we wed. What better way than to have them drained for my future bride?” He said, sitting softly on the bed next to you.

You unscrewed the lid, the blood smelled… sour. But not unpleasantly so. Your mouth watered incessantly, you brought it to your lips gulping down a few sips before you gagged. You spit the blood back into the jar, “Fuck!” You said wiping your mouth before setting the jar on the bedside table.

“What?” Feyd said with concern in his eyes.

“It’s… rotten.” You said with a sigh, the sickly blood taste still ruminating in your throat.

Feyd’s eyes searched for another option before they stilled on you. “Can you drink without killing?” He asked.

You looked at him confused, “From a host?” You asked.

He nodded.

“Yes but… I cannot ask that of you.” You said.

He stood, taking off his chest armor and shirt. If you had any blood to spare you’d be blushing. His physique was strong, muscular yet lean. He was a beautiful shade of porcelain. Your eyes trailed all the way down to the ‘V’ that trailed below his waistband. If you weren’t so ill he would have teased you. He sat back down, closer to you. He cautiously brought a hand to your cheek, turning you to look at him. Your eyes were sad, full of shame.

“No shame, only pleasure remains.” He said, gently pulling your head towards his neck.

You could smell his blood beneath his skin, hear it pulse with every heartbeat. Begrudgingly, you sank your teeth into his pulse point, mouth filling with what you could only describe as nectar of the gods. You and Feyd moaned in unison; you felt your nails regrow slowly, your cheeks fill with color, the bags under your eyes disappear. With every drink you felt stronger. You only came back to reality when you felt his hands on your waist. You pulled away, droplets of blood trailing down your chin to your neck. Your eyes glowed the most beautiful shade of red. You licked over the circular wounds, feeling them close beneath your tongue.

Feyd sighed at the contact, eyes finding yours. “Good?” He whispered.

“Absolutely vile.” You said, wiping the corners of your mouth with a small smile. You gently took his hand, running your fingers over his knuckles. “Thank you.”

He squeezed your hand in reassurance, “Anything for you… you look…” he trailed off quietly.

“Horrific? I know the blood and fangs and eyes are… abnormal.” You looked down, beginning to pull your hand away from his.

“Enchanting.” He said holding your hand between his large ones.

You looked up, for once you heard your own heartbeat. It was so quick you feared it might stop. “How long until we wed?” You asked looking at his face. It was growing less loathsome by the day. For someone so psychotic he didn’t act like it.

“We should rest…” you said.

“Together?” He asked.

“If you wish it.” You smiled softly.

Feyd stood, putting his shirt back on much to your dismay. He laid next to you in the large bed. A great distance between you, he did not want to push your boundaries. You smiled at him, your glowing red eyes captivating him before they closed. You drifted off rather quickly while he couldn’t help but watch you sleep. He wondered if you could ever love him. Ever… want him, in the way he was growing to want you. It was consuming his black heart and he wished for nothing more than you to return his… love.

————————————-

Your body twitched slightly as your mind raced. Visions of Feyd’s life flashing before your eyes as you slept. His blood coursing through you gave you insight into his life. You saw the Baron… he did… unspeakable things to Feyd. Tortured him. Abused him in every way. Made Feyd this killing machine with no conscience. Tears slipped down your unconscious face as you began mumbling, wishing to help him but completely unable to. With a final hit from the Baron you shot up, gasping for air as if the wind had been knocked out of you. You felt a hand touch you before you flinched away from it. You looked over seeing Feyd and his worried gaze. Without thinking you pulled yourself into him. Breathing him in.

He faltered for only a moment, before wrapping his strong arms around you, “What is it little love?”

His words soothed your heart but you couldn’t bear to tell him what you saw, what you knew of him. “Night terror…” you said monotonously. “Stay with me?” You almost begged him.

“Always.” He said, holding you to his chest as he laid you both down. You shifted making yourself comfortable before listening to his rhythmic heartbeat.

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Naboo's Note:

Hello! Last nights post inspired me so much I just kept it all going. If there are errors please have a little grace I wrote this on my phone and did not proof read it because I wanted to get it out before work. I hope ya'll enjoy it and I can't wait to post part 4 - things are gonna heat up! XOXOXOXOXOXO

#feyd imagine #feyd x reader #feyd smut #feyd rauth harkonnen #feyd rautha #feyd x you #feyd rautha harkonnen #house harkonnen #baron harkonnen #harkonnen

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icyfox17 · 5 months

Text

The demons got to me... Anyways here's the first snipp of a 911 x Psych crossover lmfao

"A psychic detective?" Eddie's unconvinced voice rings out in the station's kitchen. "Yeah!" Buck replies, chipper as ever as he puts together a PBJ sandwich. "The amount of cases he's solved is crazy. And—! He even uncovered a dinosaur skeleton. I've been meaning to drive to Santa Barbara to see it. Maybe I'll take Christopher—” "A psychic detective," Eddie repeats, having barely processed anything else Buck had said. He chuckles. “You can't—you can't seriously think this is real.” “Eddie, he's been working with the SBPD for years. Don't you think if he was a fake they would've found out by now?” Buck asks, and his voice sounds so genuine Eddie kind of wants to cry. “Buck. Buck. Magic isn't real. There is no way that he's actually psychic. It's a publicity stunt! Makes the SBPD stand out or something.” “Just you wait and see Eds. Once you meet him, you'll have to believe it.” Buck says, pointing at Eddie with the most obnoxious grin on his face. Eddie can't help but feel fond at the sight of it. Sure Buck’s an idiot, but at least he's a cute one. Eddie gives up on having this argument with him. No matter what Buck says, he won't be convinced. They couldn't convince him with the jinxes (although some small part of him is still slightly freaked out about that) and they won't convince him with this psychic detective, not even if he's the most sophisticated all-knowing person ever. ~*~ “Gus, how many burritos do you think I can fit in my mouth? My money's on six, but maybe if I shove them in horizontally…” He reaches over to grab the cooler from beside Gus in the back seat, but Jules slaps his hand away. “Shawn, seriously? Those burritos are for everyone.” Shawn huffs, crossing his arms with a pout. “Yeah well, we've been in this car for hours, and I'm starving to death.” “It's been an hour Shawn,” Gus’ voice pops up from the backseat and Shawn shoots him a betrayed look. “Whose side are you on?!” Gus tilts his head. “The side that makes sure that I still have some burritos for myself.” He then opens up the same cooler that Shawn was just trying to reach into, and pulls out a perfectly tinfoil wrapped burrito that he delicately peels away. His eyes are alight with glee as he unhinges his jaw and prepares to take the biggest bite known to man, when Shawn twists around in his seat and grips Gus’ arm, pulling it and the burrito away from his mouth. “That burrito is mine sucker!” Shawn calls out, trying to take the burrito for himself. “Oh no you don't, Shawn!!” The two of them struggle back and forth, causing the car to shake slightly, but that doesn't matter. What matters is that Gus is a backstabber and Shawn needs his burrito! “Guys!” Jules’ voice calls out sharp, and the two of them freeze—Gus’ left hand smushed into Shawn's face, and Shawn’s free hand gripping Gus’ throat in a chokehold, their other hands wrapped tightly around the burrito in a tug of war. She outstretches her right hand, keeping her left hand on the wheel, and makes a grabbing motion. The two of them dejectedly give the burrito into her palm and she huffs, smiling. “Thank you. We have one more hour to go. You can both eat one burrito, okay? The rest are for when we get there.” She then takes a satisfied chomp of the burrito in her hand.

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hobivore · 6 months

Text

4:29 p.m.

Han Jisung x reader (f)

Genre: smut (minors DNI)

WC: 1k

Warnings: semi-public sex, photographing sexual acts (photobooth)

A/N: This is a reupload from my old sideblog linoguistics, so you might've seen this on tumblr before!

SKZ masterlist | Ask box

“Smile, baby.”

You force your eyes open, heavy-lidded, head rolled back against his shoulder. The display in front of you mirrors your face—jaw slack, pupils blown wide—as a woman’s voice counts down through the tinny speakers.

“C—can’t,” you answer, floundering, stumbling over the letters.

“Why?” Jisung asks. His lips are hot against your neck, teeth grazing the tender skin behind your ear, and you shudder. “You’re so cute when you smile.”

“Fuck—Ji, shut up,” you whine, annoyed, and he laughs, slippery fingers circling your clit. “Okay,” he chuckles, “I changed my mind. You’re even cuter like this.”

His hand dips lower between your thighs, two fingers sliding in with ease. “Is this why?” You swallow a whimper at the curl of his digits, slick sounds filling the small booth. “Too focused on wanting to come, aren’t you?” He blows your hair out of his face, cheeks puffing up. “Always so needy.”

Your protest dies in your throat as he grinds the heel of his palm down. He had been the needy one, dragging you inside the photo booth with the excuse of wanting cute couple pictures, only to sneak his hands up your skirt the second you sat down in his lap. But it doesn’t matter now, it never did, not when his mouth is on your skin and his cock is pressing against your ass.

“Can you suck me off?”

The sudden question makes you clench around his fingers, the thought more than tempting, but—

“What if people see us?” You lower your voice, the floor-length curtain shielding you from view, yet hardly a reliable barrier between the pair of you and the world outside. “Or hear us?”

“I don’t care,” Jisung counters, uncharacteristically confident in his want. He senses your hesitation, mouth soothing your skin, soft butterfly kisses to ease the tension. “Please—” his fingers pick up their pace again and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip to stop yourself from crying out, “—need you. Let’s go to my house, we can take the bus, it’s only a thirty minute ride—”

Fragments of the world outside drift in and out of focus: piped music playing in the background, faint voices, footsteps of people going about their daily lives, oblivious to what’s happening a few feet away from them. It sets your nerves alight; your body reacting, the felonious traitor it is, heat pooling between your legs.

“No.” You push his arm away and rise to your feet, hoisting him up by his hands. His wide-eyed stare follows you as you sink to your knees in front of him, hands fumbling with the button of his jeans before sliding them down his thighs in one motion, cock popping out of its confines.

Jisung kicks his head back with a grunt as you kitten-lick a drop of precum off his slit, humming at the taste. It’s a little salty, familiar, the thought of him filling you up making your thighs slippery with arousal.

You take him as deep as you can, hands clutching at his thighs as he secures his fingers into your hair. “Shit, you feel like heaven.” His hips twitch, involuntary, chest heaving with the exertion of holding back as your throat constricts around him.

“Hnng—baby, you look so perfect with my cock in your mouth, wanna take a picture, keep it in my wallet forever—” Jisung’s rambling now, in the way he always does when he’s losing himself in you. “Just stay there, plea—ah, fuck.” He pushes the OK button again, metallic voice ringing in your ears as white specks stain the edges of your vision, the weight of him heavy on your tongue.

“Wait—” he pulls out of your mouth, helping you to your feet. “Don’t wanna come, not yet,” his movements are desperate, urgent as he kisses you, “want to feel you first.”

He sits down on the bench and pulls you onto his lap, back flush against his chest, pushing your panties to the side so you can sink onto him in one smooth motion, gasping at the feeling of him filling you up completely.

“Baby, shh, quiet,” he mumbles, more aimed at himself than you. It’s futile; he's breaking the silence after mere seconds, unable to keep his mouth shut as he starts moving. “You like this, hm? You’re so wet, fuck—like being stuffed with my c—ah—all the time, anywhere, don’t you—”

You nod, his words making you feel dizzy, the knot in your stomach quickly tightening. When his fingers find your clit again you shove your own into your mouth to stop yourself from moaning loudly. Jisung must feel your walls flutter around him because he slows down to collect himself, a torturous drag before snapping his hips up again. “I’m so close, baby—come for me, please,” he pleads, eyes glossy, thighs shaking with effort.

“Jisung, I—” your fingers leave your mouth to fist into his hair, your words cut off by the wavering curtain as someone walks past, too close—

It sends you over the edge, heart hammering against your ribcage, your orgasm cresting over you in waves. Jisung’s thrusts slow down to a grind as you collapse against him, his face buried into the crook of your neck when he spills inside of you.

You stay there for a moment until the pounding in your ears eases and the sounds of the mall bleed back into your perception. The two of you laugh, giddy at the prospect of what could’ve gone wrong, adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

“You’re an idiot.” You stand up, knees wobbly, voice too affectionate for your words to carry any weight. Jisung wraps his arms around you and kisses you, softer, slower than before—

“Ah!” you yelp as he gives your pussy a gentle tap, grinning, adjusting your panties to their original position. He takes the strip of pictures from the machine and kisses you one more time, smiling against your lips.

“Let’s go home.”

Thank you for reading! If you liked this story please reblog, leave a comment, tell a friend, send me a pigeon, launch a mars rover. Your encouragement fuels my inner writer cryptid 👾

#han jisung smut #jisung smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids hard hours #skz hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #skz hard thoughts #han jisung x reader

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petertingle-yipyip · 21 hours

Text

STRANGER (vii) - KAZ BREKKER

tags: @beekeepingageissome @shadowzena43 @nikfigueiredo @mp-littlebit @starmansirius @hadesnumber1daughter @directioner5life @strvngestark @hostilityghost @ofmenanduhhhwellmen // previously // next

Pairing: Kaz x Davina Rollins (enemies to lovers)

Word Count: 6,331

Summary: Davina and her Snakes take a chance on a job that seems simple enough. But being the Princess of the Barrel is never simple. At least there’s an ally of sorts.

You didn’t know how long you avoided the Dregs after those few days. You didn’t step foot in the Crow Club. You didn’t even look at the building. You took to entering the Poisoned Rook from a side door just so you didn’t have to see it.

You ignored the feeling of being watched from the shadows, didn’t look up to check rooftops. There was no mistaking the feeling of the Wraith watching, but you wouldn’t give in and acknowledge it. Instead, you kept your hood up and your head down.

You didn’t even reach out to the Dregs when you found the envelope on your desk at the Rook. Melli said someone brought it to the doorman and asked that it got to you, but she didn’t see who it was and they didn’t give a name.

You recognized the handwriting easily enough, so when you opened it and counted 800 kruge, you felt a new twist in your stomach. Kaz took care of Jesper’s debt. You didn’t know if it was for your benefit or Jesper’s, the former was more likely, but you didn’t care to ask. A debt paid was a debt paid, no matter where the kruge came from.

So you found Jesper’s debt form, signed it as paid, and filed it away. The deal was the deal, and you didn’t need to revisit it.

You were cleaning up some things in your office before you intended on leaving. Kol was on the door - there seemed to be less ruckus when he was - and you were waiting for Melli to arrive to switch charge. When she finally entered, her cheeks were flush as if she’d been running and her eyes were alight with excitement.

“You look like you enjoyed a good tumble.” You laughed as you pulled your cloak off the back of your chair.

“No, no.” She waved you off, though her smile stayed. “I got a tip on a job.”

Your brows raised. “Tell me.”

“It’s some sculpture, fits on a desk or an end table.” She nodded, creating a vague sized box with her hands. “He said it was taken and sold to a Merchant.”

“What kind of statue? Valuable?” Maybe you’d lift it and sell it on your own.

“Seems more sentimental than anything. He said it was from some Grisha tale. Some legendary Bonesmith?” She shrugged. “But it’s a three piece figure. A stag, some sea whip and a bird.”

“Go get Kol. Have Nik take over the door.”

She was gone in a flash so you sat back in your chair while you waited. You blew out a sigh as you dropped down. So much for leaving early. Melli returns quickly with Kol in tow and shuts the door.

“Kol, what do you know of the Bonesmith?” You asked. If there was no truth to the alleged Grisha tale, then there was no point pursuing the job at all.

“The Bonesmith?” He repeated. “He’s an old legend, a Saint. Sankta Ilya in Chains. He was Materialki but his story says he put a child back together that was cut in half.”

“What connection does he have to a stag, a sea whip, and a bird?”

“It’s said that he created three amplifiers in those forms. Why?”

You nodded to Melli.

Eagerly, she began to explain. “A man, said he’s Ravkan and was in some sort of robes, said that Karl Dryden has taken possession of a statue that belongs in one of the Churches. It’s of a stag, sea whip, and bird.”

“Dryden cares for Grisha legend?” Your brows raised.

“I doubt it.” She shook her head. “Dryden’s new to the Council so he may just have been looking for something old and pretty.”

She patted her pockets to search and pulled a paper out of her coat. She unfolded it and handed it to you.

You motioned Kol closer.

“That’s Morozova’s Stag.” He pointed to the dear in the center, sporting massive and intricate antlers. “The sea whip, Rusalye.” He traced the length of the snakelike creature around the stag’s feet. “And the firebird.” He tapped the large bird above the others.

“So we’re being asked to nab a potentially very old and potentially very delicate depiction of Grisha legend.” You put the paper down. “How much?”

“Ten thousand kruge.” Melli answered, and the excitement she’s been jittering with now made sense.

“A Ravkan monk has ten thousand sitting around?”

“I saw it myself.” She nodded enthusiastically.

“And it’s all real?”

“Sankta Ilya’s power is the greatest ever known to Grisha, and some churches receive more tithe than others.” Kol added. “And the currency conversion may have helped. But for all we know, that church drained its coffers to get that statue back.”

“Isn’t Ravka broke?” You turned to him. “I’ve heard rumors of defaulting on the loans from Kerch.”

Kol wrinkled his nose and waved a hand. You almost laughed.

“We’d need intel on where Dryden keeps it.” You said pointedly to Melli. “And we’ll need the layout of his house, security measures, occupants.”

“I can scout tonight.”

“It needs to be a small crew. Who would you take?”

“Us.” Melli gestured to the three people in the room. “Would you want anyone else?”

“No…” You looked between your friends. “No, this is fine. I’ll look into floor plans of the Dryden estate. We move on this tomorrow night. The sooner we do this, the less likely someone else can take it out from under us.”

“Someone has to send word to the Ravkan that we’ll do it.” Melli added.

“I’ll go.” Kol offered.

“Melli, bring paper. I want you to note what you can and we’ll compare it to what I can gather.”

“Who are you going to?”

“Do you really need to ask that? There’s one man in the Barrel that knows everything.”

“Be careful going back there.” Kol said earnestly and you nodded. He returned the gesture before turning to Melli. “Tell me what he looked like.”

You shooed the two away while they discussed the man’s appearance. You waited a moment, looking down at the drawing, and sighed. There was only one person that could get you the plans of the Dryden estate that night, otherwise you’d have to wait till the morning. You cursed quietly and reached for the envelope of 800 kruge that you had shoved to the back of a drawer.

You hid it in the main pocket of your cloak and you fit it in place around your shoulders. You pulled your hood up and headed to the one place you dreaded, that you hated arguably more than the Emerald Palace.

The Crow Club.

Luckily for you, Jesper was manning the door. He beamed at your approach and nodded, tipping his hat in the process.

“Welcome back.” He said kindly as you shifted your hood back enough to show your face.

“I need to speak with him.” You said plainly.

“With the boss? Yeah, I’ll take you.” He offered you his arm and you frowned slightly. He shook his head with a small chuckle and gestured for you to follow. He mumbled something about you being as proud and stubborn as ever, though it was intended as a friendly jab.

You resisted the urge to hide in your hood as you went through the Club. Your eyes started forward, trained on a spot between Jesper’s shoulder, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t feel the other eyes turning on you. Partons and Dregs alike seemed to stop what they were doing to watch you pass.

Jesper took you to a small staircase in the back corner. You hadn’t even noticed it your first time in. He tapped on the door quickly before poking his head in. You could just faintly hear the conversation.

“Hey, Boss. You’ve got a visitor.” Jesper said quickly. “Hi, Inej.”

“Hello, Jesper.”’ The Suli girl answered.

“Tell them to come back later.” Kaz said quickly.

“I think you’re gonna wanna take this.” Jesper tried.

“I’m busy.”

“Are you though?”

“Who is it?” Inej chimed in.

Jesper leaned back to look at you, but you noticed the positioning of his body kept you out of sight from those in the other room. Your fingers drummed along the metal railing as you glanced around the Club.

Jesper smiled at you when you finally looked back and you just shrugged. “A friend.” He popped his head back in. “Your friend.” He emphasized, likely towards Kaz.

You returned your eyes to the Club floor and your gaze met an unwelcome set of eyes already on you.

Per Haskell.

Your stomach pitched and you rubbed a hand against your chest, feeling the hard material of the blade under your cloak. If Haskell took even a step towards you, you’d slice off the pound of flesh you were owed, despite the riot it would cause. Before anything could get to that point, you put a hand on Jesper’s shoulder.

“Forget it.” You said quickly. He turned to face you and his expression shifted to confusion, either to your sudden decision change or your own expression. “Thank you for trying. I’ll figure it out some other way.”

“Davina?” Kaz asked. Your eyes darted to the doorway, something in you reacting to your name coming from his voice, but you looked back to Jesper with a pointed expression. You were quietly begging any Saint listening that he understood you wanted out.

“Hang on. What…” Jesper grabbed your arm before he looked over your shoulder. You gently tried to pull your arm away but you saw him understand. “I’ll walk you out then.”

He made a point to come around you and stand between you and the rest of the Club floor.

“Thank you.” You sighed. You wouldn’t say you needed the escort, but when Jesper offered you his hand, you accepted it. Admittedly, it was a comfort to know you’d have one.

You were halfway down the short steps when Kaz called you back.

“Wait.” He said and Jesper immediately stopped. “Bring her in.”

You cursed quietly as Jesper turned you back to Kaz’s office. Inej was still inside and she offered you a quick nod. You returned the gesture, even intended to smile at the girl, but the fight to keep the memory of the hallucinations away was at the forefront of your mind.

Jesper gave your hand a slight squeeze before he left. You only knew he was gone when the door closed behind him. You were staring blankly at the floor while your mind tried to find some sense of reality.

“Davina?” Inej asked carefully. You couldn’t figure out if it was concern or distrust in her voice. “Are you alright?”

You said nothing. You couldn’t say anything. No matter what words you tried to summon, nothing came out of your mouth. Your voice had left you.

She came closer and her hand landed lightly on your arm. The new touch seemed to snap you back to focus and your eyes met hers. One look and you understood it had been concern in her words a moment ago. You smiled sadly and nodded in thanks. You cleared your throat and pulled your shoulders back, finding your control again as Inej’s hand fell away.

“Right, well.” You said and drew your hood back. You found Kaz already looking at you, that cursed unreadable expression on his features as he leaned on the desk’s surface. “What do you know about the Dryden estate?”

“The newest Merchant?” Kaz answered with a noncommittal shrug. “Not much worth knowing.”

“But do you know the layout of the house? I need the floor plans.”

“Do you?” He stood tall, eyeing you carefully. “What for?”

“Can you only ask questions or do you answer them?” You shot back.

Inej chuckled quietly and Kaz glared at her for a moment, though the look lacked any real heat.

“How much?” You sighed.

He looked back at you and raised his brows in quiet question.

“You either have the plans or you know who does. I don’t have time to run around to offices and wait for requests to process. You also refuse to say anything remotely helpful without incentive. So I ask again, how much?”

“What do you need them for?” He asked instead and you had to refrain from rolling your eyes.

“A job, clearly.”

“On Dryden?”

“No, on his neighbor.” That time you did roll your eyes. “Yes, Dryden, you insufferable man.”

He smirked slightly and sat back in his chair. He lifted his cane and spun it, thoughtfully examining the crow’s head. “Insufferable.” He repeated to himself.

“I have other, less kind words if you don’t like that one.” You muttered.

“Dryden doesn’t have much.” He said instead. “Do you have someone that can pick locks?”

“Well enough.” You nodded. You were no expert, but you could handle most basic locks.

Kaz muttered to himself, some sort of mockery of your answer, as he rummaged through a drawer. You glanced and saw Inej had disappeared. You had to applaud her light footedness. When you looked back at Kaz, he handed you something. You accepted the small case and flipped the top, exposing a set of lock picks.

“Well enough doesn’t mean I need these.” You slammed it shut and handed it back to him.

He leaned back in his chair, clearly expressing he had no intent of taking them back.

“The locks on the windows are simple enough, but if you don’t have picks, you won’t get anywhere.”

“I don’t want your charity.” You snapped.

“Don’t call it charity then.” He shrugged. “Call it a gift.”

You groaned and pulled your arm back to throw the case at the wall near him. He didn’t flinch but before you could let the case go, you were tapped with a rolled up paper. You flinched and gripped the case tighter, planning to use it as a weapon, but you relaxed when you saw it was just Inej. You hadn’t even seen the woman come back.

“The Dryden Estate.” She said simply, shaking the paper at you. Hesitantly, you dropped the pick case down your sleeve and took it.

“Thank you…” You said carefully. “Why are you helping me?”

“What Haskell did to you last time you were here was beyond wrong. I wouldn’t wish that type of treatment on anyone. I hope this can make up for it.”

“You’re helping me to try and make amends?”

“I’m helping you to keep us on fair terms.” She corrected.

“You don’t like me all that much, do you?” You teased. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Kaz frown more noticeable than he usually did. Or maybe his usual expression was closer to a scowl.

“No.” She said flatly and with finality.

“Why is that?”

“Davina.” Kaz warned. You waved him off but conceded to his underlying request.

“You’re right, Wraith.” You nodded to her. “I am my father’s daughter, and I’ve come to terms with that. I know that makes me horrid. Wretched. Unbearable. All these horrible things, and all his fault. Despite that, I think you and I will come out of all of this as good friends.” You wagged a finger at her.

“We have a common enemy.” She said instead and you pouted slightly, just to be a pain. “We should focus on that.”

“Do we?” You nodded and looked back to Kaz. Your head tilted, falling slightly against your shoulder, and you raised your brows slightly. “She knows, then?”

“No.” He answered tightly. He was scanning your expression, piecing together what you were planning as you straightened with a small, mischievous smirk. While it was clear he wanted to know what you were lifting from Dryden, he was also working to figure out if you’d tell Inej his secret.

You considered it, just to push your limit with him and see how far he’d really let you go. But at that moment, you liked having your limbs attached and your blood in your veins. Some other time, you decided.

“I thought if you’d tell any of them, you’d tell her.” You shook your head. “But I suppose it’s fair. I haven’t told Melli yet, either.”

“Enough.” Kaz said firmly and stood. You sighed inwardly but kept his gaze, standing a little taller and giving a small shrug, as if to say it was his move. “I’ll walk you out.”

You made a noise of satisfaction to yourself and gestured for him to walk ahead of you. With the plans tucked under your arm and hidden by your cloak, you nodded in thanks to Inej and followed Kaz out.

“You know…” You began as you fell into stride with him. “You shouldn’t pay off his debts.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said plainly.

You pulled the envelope from your cloak’s pocket and handed it to him. You didn’t look over as he took it. “What makes you think this was me?”

“I know your handwriting.” You rolled your eyes to yourself. “I hope you don’t think this makes us equal in any way.”

“Why would I care about that?” He sounded bored but there was an honest inquiry there. It almost seemed as if he wasn’t sure why you two would need to be equal.

“The night at the Exchange.” You said tightly. “You may have helped last time I was here and your may have paid off your friend’s debt, but that doesn’t mean I won’t hold a grudge for a while longer.”

“And if I have a grudge of my own?”

“I know you do. Like I said, I know who you see in my place… How did you know about the credit? As far as I knew, only Nina knew.”

“He confessed while you were unconscious, said it was his fault you were there.”

He said it so simply, as if it was just something that happened sometimes. The sun rose, the tides came and went, you fell unconscious due to poisoning. You shivered slightly and while you didn’t return the gesture, Kaz peeked over at you.

“Humor me and take it.” You said carefully, accidentally having locked eyes with Haskell again. “Consider it payment for the plans and the picks.”

Haskell stood and you saw two glasses in his hands. Instantly, and regrettably, you put yourself a step behind Kaz. He stood a bit straighter but said nothing. Your eyes remained forward, hands folded behind you, and your hood down. As much as you wanted to hide in it, you wouldn’t appear a coward with Haskell coming towards you and Kaz. Once he was close enough, Kaz put his cane to the side to stop you, coincidentally keeping you behind him.

He looked past Haskell, who he was looking at you couldn’t tell among the crowd, and did a quick series of hand gestures. Satisfied with the response, he faced down his boss.

“Well, well, isn’t this a sight?” Haskell announced, though only a few heads turned. For that, you were grateful.

“Sir.” You nodded politely and Kaz made a small noise of amusement.

“What are you doing with this one, Boy?” He asked Kaz.

“Exchange of services, Sir.” Kaz answered with the same manners you used and you said nothing. “Just showing our friend good manners on her way out.”

“Services, eh? Yes, you needed a good tumble.” Haskell said thoughtfully, scratching his graying beard with a nod. “Bit upright lately, but I’m sure she fixed you right up.”

You had a million protests ready but Kaz reached for Haskell’s shoulder and turned him away. You opened your mouth to say something but another hand was on your back to guide you away. You reached for your hidden blade but saw it was only Jesper. You followed without question, relaxing only slightly, but you still looked back over your shoulder.

Kaz met your eyes and offered a sharp nod. You knew what he had done, he did on purpose. He took Haskell away and had Jesper ensure you left the Crow Club safely. He didn’t have to. You knew as well as he had to, yet he did it anyway. You couldn’t understand why.

Early the next morning, you and your friends planned the job. Melli’s notes aligned with what you had gotten from Kaz, moreso from Inej if you thought about it. Your trio spent most of the morning bouncing ideas off each other until the plan was set. You’d get the windows open and slip inside with Melli. Kol would keep lookout and knock out the footmen. Melli would be responsible for carrying the statue out and Kol would go with her to deliver it to the Ravkan. It seemed simple enough, until it all went to hell.

You weren’t naive enough to think Melli was the only one that had access to the job. Someone else very well could’ve heard or was even offered the job while you were all discussing. You were, however, foolish enough to believe that once you confirmed with the Ravkan, it would’ve been yours and yours alone. But it seemed the Dime Lions had a different idea.

You and Melli carefully put the figure in her shoulder bag, padded with a few extra shirts, and were heading back out the window. It was a second story window but a garden lattice was climbing up the wall beside it. You had scaled it like a ladder and were allowing Melli down first. Kol was waiting at the bottom and you saw the slight flex of his fingers to keep Melli calm.

You were seated halfway out the window, watching your lieutenant make her way down. The picks fell out your sleeve and into your hand as if automatic and you were readying to climb out and relock the window. Once her feet hit the ground, you were shifting to swing your leg out when you felt the impact of a bullet against your side. You opted to leave your hood, wearing the Grisha made vest instead with a scarf wrapped across the lower half of your face.

The bullet threw your balance sideways and you gripped the window frame to keep from falling. You turned your eyes towards the room and saw no one, but the faint light from the hall allowed you to see the smoke from the fired gun that was retreating. Quickly, you turned over your shoulder and saw Kol and Melli gesturing for you to hurry. You waved them off, hoping they’d stick to their jobs instead of waiting around for you, and let the picks slide back into your sleeve, pulled a blade from your boot, and dropped back into the house.

You landed in a crouch near the window and felt the precursor of a bruise forming on your ribs. Quiet curses fell from your lips as you moved along the wall, staying in a low crouch and keeping contact with the wall. Your plan now was to get that door shut and barricaded then hurry out the window. You were only a few feet away when the door swung open, nearly knocking you off your feet. You swallowed your yelp of surprise and pushed yourself further against the wall.

“I saw her at the window, Boss.” One of the men said.

Three men crossed the room and went straight for the window. You didn’t need them to turn to recognize your father among them. You tried to make yourself a bit flatter as you crept around the open door. You were nearly out when a fourth man appeared and yanked you to your feet.

You kept a firm grip on your knife as he shoved you back into the room.

“Ah.” Your father smiled at you. “There she is.”

“Why are you here?” You asked. A simple enough question that you didn’t necessarily care to hear an answer to, but it would buy time. All you could think was whether or not Kol and Melli were able to get away.

He shrugged and stepped closer, yanking the scarf off your face. You had half a mind to bite him.

“I heard whispers of someone coming for Dryden tonight so I offered my help.” He explained and the arrogance in his voice made you sick. You wrinkled your nose in disgust but he didn’t seem to notice. “Didn’t think you were up for it thought, little one.”

“Have your guy let me go and we’ll see what I’m really up for, Papa.” You instigated but the man behind you kicked out your knee, forcing you to the ground and keeping you there with a hand pushing down on your shoulder.

“You see, Davi?” Your father knelt in front of you. You kept eye contact but you had yo force yourself not to spit in his face. “You’re not meant for all of this.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” You shook your head, feeling the handle of the blade in your hand. “I’ve stood against you twice already. I’ve gotten away from Dirtyhands and the Dregs. This isn’t your kingdom anymore.”

“Even if you could take it, you wouldn’t know what to do with it.” He almost sounded apologetic, like when he would explain why you couldn’t have another dessert. It made your blood boil.

“Why do you think I’ve been making friends in the Barrel?” You mocked. “My Snakes, Heartrenders, even a few Dregs.”

“Davi, Davi, Davi.” He said in disappointment. “You always were a stubborn one.”

“I believe they say I’m pigheaded, just like you.”

He waved you off.

“What’d you come here for, little one?” He asked, surveying the room for what he would perceive as valuable. His eyes came back to you when he saw nothing.

That, of course, was because the statue was already gone. The rest of the commodities in the room were of basica, Merchant luxury. Nothing worth enough to take.

When you said nothing, you saw your father’s hand tighten into a fist. If you could get him to hit you, you could start an entire brawl with all four of them. The chaos would be enough for you to bolt.

“Don’t you see?” You instigated. “If you can’t see what’s worth it in this room, then your reign really is over.” You laughed. “You’re from an older regime, Papa. Dirtyhands and I, we’re the ones who are going to hold the power in the Barrel soon enough. Once we do, you best believe we are burning the Emerald Palace to the ground first. And I am asking every single Saint that you and your heir are inside.”

“You’d wish death on your brother?” His eyebrows raised.

“He’s no brother of mine. You made sure of that.” You spat at his feet. “I share my mother’s face and I share your last name, but know that we are not the same. Everything that has happened has been and forever will be your fault.”

That did it.

He swung his fist against your jaw and the Lion behind you let you fall to the ground. You thought it was ironic that he dared to talk down on you for forgoing your relation to his son but could so easily strike his daughter. You felt a hand on your arm to sit you back up and so you swung the blade. You didn’t stop to see who or where you connected before you hurried to your feet.

The three Dime Lions stood across from you, which meant you had cut your father, and that made you smile. With the blade firmly gripped in your hand, you threw yourself into a fight. You kept close the to men, ducking and dodging more than attacking on your own. Your nimble mvoements made them hit each other more than you, which seemed to piss them off more, especially when your blade came through with knicks and small jabs. Your father was barking orders, making his way to his feet, which served as a perfect distraction.

You kicked out at one of Lions’ backs and he fell onto your father. You ducked a swing and slashed a long line down the arm of a second. The last Lion leaned down to tackle you, his shoulder slamming into your stomach. You fumbled the blade, knicking the edge of your own plam before getting it back under control.

You were slammed hard against the wall behind you and it knocked the air out of your lungs. He had a few inches off the ground so you drove your knee up hard, hitting his stomach several times. When he finally let you fall, you drove your knife up into his stomach.

“I’d make sure there’s a Healer close when you take that out.” You warned, taking deep breaths to refill your lungs. Silence fell over the room and you wondered what your father was seeing now.

“You’re dead.” The Lion hissed. Your head cocked and you drew a second knife from your boot. You flipped his arm, swatting away the other hand he tried to grab you with, and found his tattoo. You dragged your blade across it, decapitating the lion. “I’m gonna kill you myself, you little bitch.”

“No.” You looked him in the eyes, gripping your embedded knife. When it shifted, blood leaked out and over your hands. “I don’t think you will.”

You yanked it out and he fell to his knees. You forced away the thought that you had just killed a man and faced your father, a bloodied knife in either hand while the blood of his Lion dripped off your fingers. You kept your chin high and he seemed horrified by the sight.

Good.

“His death is on you.” You pointed the blade towards him. “As is the death of any Lion that comes after me or my Snakes. As is the death of my friends.”

You crossed the room and stood toe to toe. The other Lions took a step back but your father stared you down.

“Do you even remember their names?” You asked quietly. “The two boys that were my only friends.”

He said nothing. He took a step back and raised a pistol to your forehead. Your eyes went wide with shock for a second before you regained your composure.

“You judge that I wouldn’t care if your son died, but you raise a gun to your daughter. Again.” You laughed in disbelief.

“You’re no child of mine.” He said and despite the venom in the words, there was the gloss of unshed tears in his eyes.

“I haven’t been your child in years, Pekka.” You spat and the gun cocked.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You thought immediately of Melli and Kol, how they’d fare in the wake of your death. Kol would take over as lieutenant when Melli took your place, you were sure of it. He’d be able to keep good relations with Nina, who could convince Inej and Jesper to convince Kaz to not demolish the Snakes. It may even be enough to be true allies. The irony of the one thing you’d been hoping for being more likely after your death was not lost on you, even in your potential last moments.

And then, your thoughts drifted to Kaz. The strange relationship you two held. He hated you, that much was as certain as the sun rising in the morning, but he also (maybe) still saw you as a friend. Small moments had you convinced that there was some semblance of the boy you knew was still there, kicking and screaming and fighting to be recognized. He kept you safe at your most vulnerable. He gave you the picks, the plans, and paid off his friend’s debt to you. You thought of some of the things he said to you, brief sentences that had made a little home in the deepest corner of your mind.

She isn’t like you.

Not all memories are bad.

I never blamed you.

Was that what they meant when they said your life flashed before your eyes when you were going to die? Memories and thoughts of those you were leaving behind. You thought in passing of your mother, if she’d

mourn you, but you understood she lost you a long time ago.

A sudden clatter made your eyes shoot open. Your father was clutching a now bleeding hand and his pistol was a few feet away, laying next to a small blade. You were quick to tuck yours away and pick up the fallen, familiar blade. You examined it for a second and realized it was Inej’s.

You looked up and saw a small figure creeping through the shadows while the two remaining Lions ran to the window. You slid the blade across the floor and took up your father’s gun. You stood and pointed it at him.

When he faced you, you fired and the bullet hit his leg.

The sound made the pair of Dime Lions turn and face you. You motioned them closer and waited. You held your position as they charged until you felt the quiet presence beside you. Their steps didn’t falter. You didn’t say anything or even look towards Inej, but once she moved, so did you.

You spun to avoid an oncoming punch and shot at the man’s foot. He cried out and fell to the floor, making the other one stumble over his fallen body. You glanced at your father and saw him hauling himself to his feet so you threw the gun and it hit him in the head.

Your distraction allowed for the fallen Lion to yank your foot from under you. You yelped before you hit the ground and he was quickly moving to pin you down. You kicked a blade free from your boot and went to use it, but he caught your wrist and turned the blade away. He pushed your hand down and your blade skirted down the outside of your arm. You cried out and threw your forehead forward, hearing a satisfying crack as it connected with his nose.

Inej made quick work of the Dime Lion, leaving him groaning and holding a hand to the deepest of several knife slashes. She helped you to your feet and you gestured for her to go first as you put your blade away, following her back to the window. She lept out first with that natural grace you envied and you came out next. You were reaching for the wooden lattice when the gunshot sounded and the bullet tore through your arm.

You almost fell from the impact but you just managed to get your feet in the flimsy structure. Your other arm faltered, stinging from the long knife wound, but you refused to let go. You clumsily got to the bottom and she grabbed your hand to pull you with her.

When you two finally got back to the Barrel, you got her to take a pause in an alley. You practically collapsed against the wall and slid to the floor with a thud. You reached for your torn sleeve and noticed how much blood was still on your hands.

Not all of it was yours and it was almost enough to make you sick. You knew you’d end up killing someone sooner or later, but that didn’t seem to make the first time any easier.

You forced yourself to focus and pulled your torn sleeve until it came off. You awkwardly wrapped it around the long slash until Inej came over quietly and took over.

“Why were you there?” You asked quietly. Truthfully, you didn’t quite care but you were grateful. You did need a distraction for thinking of the man you just killed.

“I knew you were going to be there, and I saw when your Heartrender and lieutenant made it back. They were talking about you and how they had to leave you.” She explained.

“Oh..”

“I thought of going back to Kaz but I wasn’t sure there was time.” She tied a tight knot and winced.

“And here I was thinking you didn’t like me.” You joked, letting your head fall back against the wall behind you.

“I don’t, not really, but I do respect you.” She explained and you raised a brow. “And Kaz seems to have taken a liking to you.”

You scoffed slightly. “If you knew the whole story, you’d know that’s not true.”

“I don’t need to.”

“You trust Kaz that much?”

“I owe Kaz that much. We all have a past, Davina, but that’s not all we have.”

“Is that some Suli wisdom?”

“No.” She smiled slightly. “Just the truth.”

“Thank you.” You nodded. “For showing up. You saved my life.”

“I’d like to think you’d do the same for us.” She said, though the tilt to her voice let you know it was more of a question.

“A select few Dregs.” You confirmed. “I could count them on one hand.”

She glanced behind her to see the foot traffic in the street before looking at your wounds, then she met your eyes.

“The Slat may be closer.” She said hesitantly.

“Maybe.” You agreed. “But it’d be better if I made it to the Rook at least. Kol can help me from there... I truly appreciate what you did for me tonight.”

She nodded. “Was that the first time you took a life?”

“That obvious?”

“Your hands are still trembling.”

“That may be due to blood loss.” You defended.

“And I saw the look in your eyes.”

“Does it get easier?”

She stood and offered you a hand. You accepted it, allowing her to help you to your feet. She walked with you for a few feet before she disappeared into the street, effortlessly blending into the crowd. But her last sentence seemed to echo in her absence.

“No, it doesn’t.”

21 notes · View notes

ivestas · 2 years

Note

könig with a confident/badass reader that knows their shit? 👀 im so hrrrng for this man i want to fluster him so bad

blackened valor

Summary: König admires you, so you expose your humanity to him.

Tags: soldier!fem!reader (call sign “hound”) x könig, reader implied to be on the older side, smoking, barely edited, mentally ill reader, this might be triggering for those struggling with suicidal thoughts so please be careful/dont read!

Word count: 1.1k

Notes: anon we are literally on the same wavelength, i was earlier thinking about a reader who has that dorky badassery of snake or raiden or literally any mgs character LMAO

Not much was known about you beyond your feats on the field.

But those feats defined your personhood within any military—the moment a recruiter knew who you were, they’d be on their knees begging for your presence among theirs.

It was like being a celebrity, except you got no perks and more targets on your back and eyes on you every second of the day, trying to break down your character and understand—understand what, only God knows.

You were fine with that, though; you get used to it after a while: the praise, the envy, it all becomes white noise over the howl of the wind.

So it was a normal occurrence when you noticed a set of eyes on you.

What was abnormal was the one doing the staring.

An Austrian giant.

It piqued your interest; a shallow reason to humor since you’ve been in this situation numerous times before, but you didn’t care.

From your seat in the empty lounge, you leaned back, regarding him carefully.

He couldn’t meet your stare.

Cute.

“You are?” You grabbed a lighter from your pockets, popping out a cheap cigarette at the same time. In a swift motion, the cigarette was alight on your lips, and now it sat between your index and middle finger.

“König, ma’am.”

“Ma’am?” You couldn’t help the chuckle that spilled out your lips. “I’m ‘Hound’ to everyone, no need for the formalities, save that for your captain.”

He nodded jerkily. You noted his scrunched shoulders, his stiff poise, and his foot moving in a rhythmic motion. The chair he sat on seemed to bend at the movement.

"Hey, c’mere.”

In an instant, he did as you said, walking to you quickly.

You pat the spot beside you. “Sit, no need to sit on that shitty chair. Pretty sure it was about to collapse.”

Nodding again, he sat beside you.

You lift your cigarette to him. “Wanna?”

König shook his head. “I don’t.”

“I’d praise you for making such a good health decision, but it’d make me a hypocrite considering you chose to be a merc.” You sighed, taking another puff of smoke. “Speaking of, what’s a timid guy like you doin’ in a merc group?”

“...”

“Touchy subject, eh?” You shook your head, laughing again. “It’s always like that with soldiers—it’s either to pay college debt or to run away from some fucked past.”

König glanced at you, finally. He held your gaze.

“What about you, then?”

“Me?” You hummed, leaning forward now with your elbows on your knees, one hand propping your head up while the other held the cigarette. Looking up at him, you smiled. “Money. Valor. Suitors. I’m a materialist at heart, I love the attention too. I’m super fucking vain.”

“That can’t be?”

The way he gasped those words made you grin. He was quickly becoming a favorite. “Then what do you think is the real reason?”

“Uhm...” His fingers tapped his knee, and his eyes strayed up, deep in thought. Then, embarrassed, his voice dropped. “...to change the world?”

Despite the clear embarrassment, he said the words with unwavering sureness, and it dawns on you that he probably thought of you as some war hero—a pursuer of all that is good for the world.

When you look at him—properly this time, not an off-handed glance—you can see it in his eyes, the shine.

You were right.

In the past, moments like this would be awkward; you never knew what to say, how to softly break the truth that you were just some woman, and the honest truth wasn’t coated in honor and your drive to be a force of good.

But now? You didn’t care. You never had.

“I wanted to die,” you said casually—and it was a casual admission, you didn’t really care, because that was the truth.

You saw his eyes widen and it nearly made you laugh.

“I was gonna, you know, kill myself when I was younger. Had planned it out and everything,” you sighed wistfully. “Then, I thought, ‘why not join the military’? Easier to break to my family that when I inevitably died, it was for a cause rather than the fact I succumbed to my own perpetual weakness.”

“It’s not—”

“’It’s not weakness’ yeah yeah,” you scoffed. “It’s easy to say that because you feel it. We all feel it—the desire to die.”

The bottom of his hood shifted again, and you expected to hear his words, but nothing came out.

“But, yeah, I guess after a while of realizing that I’m cursed with some twisted luck of brushing past the grim reaper, I decided to be a bit of a saint and run around and ‘fix’ things, just to stave the boredom away.”

You took another puff, longer this time. “You grow attached to the idea of bringing peace, I think. My advice? If you want to bring the most change, let go of your fear of death. Suddenly, everything’s not so scary anymore...” you smile. “But I’m guessing you’ve already done that, haven’t you?”

König was silent, but after a moment, he nodded.

“See? Now you’re just as much of a ‘hero’ as me.” You lifted the cigarette. “You sure you don’t want, by the way?”

“...I’ll try.” His hands were large, dwarfing the cigarette to a ridiculous degree.

With his free hand, he lifted the end of his hood, and you caught a bit of his face.

Pretty.

He sucked in and began coughing right after, lowering the cigarette for a moment. Clumsy puffs of smoke shot out his lips, and after a few seconds, he tried again.

Still awkward, but a bit better.

“Ah, you’re getting there König, now you’re just as much of a hero as me!” You reached for the cigarette and took a puff before handing it back.

He paused before putting it back between his lips, but you notice a flush of pink dusting his pale skin. Even with just the bottom of his face showing, you could see he was... blushing?

That made you bark out a laugh.

He’s so fucking shy.

He seemed to have caught on quickly because he quickly moved the cigarette back to you, refusing to meet your eyes, tugging the hood back over his face.

“Come on soldier, don’t be shy! We’re all friends here, right?” You leaned back and pat his shoulder. “Unless..?”

He froze under your hand.

You laughed again, letting your hand rest there. He didn’t push it away, remaining stiff under your palm, head turned away and fingers fiddling with gloves wrapped around his hands.

AO3

Masterlist

Requests are open

#konig x reader #mw2 x reader #modern warfare 2 x reader #modern warfare x reader #cod x reader #könig x reader #tw sucidal ideation #tw suicide #dont smoke kids it isnt cool #even if a war hero pressures u too!

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