#the cold and billowing sea | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

justfandomwritings · 2 years

Text

Who Did This To You? (Hangman)

Pairing: Hangman x Female!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 10.2k because I have no self control

Summary: In your most vulnerable hour, Jake 'Hangman' Seresin is the one to find you, and the one to ask you the ultimate question. "Who did this to you?"

Warnings: Mentions of Abuse and DV (NOT committed by Jake), nongraphic description of resulting injuries, a very one-sided bar fight, mention that a character is going to therapy, insults and confrontation by a past abuser. (This story is a who did this to you trope. While it is only dealing with the 'who did this to you' aftermath of what was done, please keep that in mind.)

Notes: This is just an excuse to write the who did this to you trope. This is self indulgence at its finest.

“Who did this to you?”

Your head shot up a little too quickly at the unexpected company, and the world began to spin all over again. With a groan, you laid your head back on the bartop, hoping the flat wood would help the world right itself faster.

You’d been lying there with your forehead pressed on the cool wood of the bar, sitting directly under an air vent, for the better part of thirty minutes. The Hard Deck’s AC was working overtime to keep the heat outside, and the rush of cold air blowing down the back of your shirt was doing wonders for your sore arms and back.

“Hurricane, who did this to you?”

You hadn’t been expecting anyone to be there. Everyone else was down at the beach. You thought you’d have some time alone to lick your wounds and cover your bruises and emotionally recover from what had happened that morning. Penny was too busy watching Maverick. The aviators were too engrossed in a new game Maverick had invented called dogfight volleyball, and the bar was technically closed at this hour. You thought you could slip by and start your shift sight unseen.

“Hurricane,” The voice was firm, but not demanding. Underwritten with a tone of concern that was very uncommon to that particular voice. “Hurricane,” it repeated.

You opened your eyes and rolled your head to lay facing the voice’s direction and made eye contact with Hangman.

You knew it was him before you turned, but for some reason you still did.

Backlit by the sun’s rays bouncing off his perfect golden hair with an open button-up billowing in the sea breeze, he stood in sharp contrast to your current state. Like an angel stepping out of heaven and into hell.

In some ways, this was your worst case scenario. Hangman was definitely not your favorite pilot and was very close to your least, and he was certainly not your friend. You were at best frenemies and even that was a stretch. The pair of you had been constantly bickering and making snide comments behind the other’s backs since practically the moment you made eye contact with each other. He intentionally made your life difficult behind the bar, and you rang the bell on him on multiple occasions.

He was responsible for everyone calling you Hurricane. You’d come crashing through the doors on your first day working at the Hard Deck with a torrential downpour following you in from outside. A drowned cat would’ve looked less soaked through and pathetic than you, and the moment Penny introduced you to the squad, he’d made a snide remark about the Hurricane you brought with you. The rest was history. It became like a callsign to them; your name long forgotten by most. The only pilot who didn’t call you Hurricane now was Bob, and it ground your gears just a little bit more every time you heard it.

On the other hand, this might’ve been the best case scenario. Hangman wasn’t someone who was going to make a big show of this. He wouldn’t rush down to the beach and ask for help. He wouldn’t fawn over you or ask you if you were okay a million times. He wouldn’t expect you to cry on his shoulder and incessantly pick at you until you broke down.

“Who did this to you?” Hangman took a step in from where he’d frozen in the door out to the patio.

His expression was like his voice, hard and firm with undertones of the worry that anyone would be feeling in this situation. Hangman wasn’t the nicest guy you knew, but you knew from the other pilots stories of the many times he’d saved their lives that he wasn’t evil, and you didn’t doubt for a moment that he’d at least be somewhat concerned even if he didn’t care particularly for you.

“You already know who.”

It was true. Devin had been in the bar about once a week for the last six months that you’d been dating. He’d made the rounds through the aviators, none of whom particularly liked him but all of whom had been polite enough not to say anything… except Hangman.

The second Devin left after his first introductions, Hangman had made his distaste known. ‘Something’s off about that guy,’ he’d said before the door even closed. Phoenix had teased him about being jealous that his snarky banter was no longer the center of your world, but you’d seen it for what it was. A combination of being angry he wasn’t the center of attention and looking to defy you at every turn that was a uniquely Hangman blend.

Hangman approached you slowly, taking one deliberate step at a time. Every step with such obvious forethought that it gave you the time and the option to back away. A detail you wouldn’t have expected from such an ego-centric man.

You didn’t back away. Hangman was a lot of things, most of them negative, but you could say with absolute certainty that you weren’t afraid of him. For all the times you’d yelled at him, you’d never been scared of his physicality, and for all the times he'd yelled at you, his hand had never so much as twitched.

Standing beside you, under the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights that threw your skin into sharp relief, Hangman had a full view of the damage.

“That fucker,” his voice was a harsh, raspy whisper, “I’m gonna kill him.” His hand seemed to lift of its own accord. Flat, open palmed and always within your line of sight, he reached up and stroked his fingers along your cheekbone with a feather-light touch.

“I already dumped him.” You don’t know why you felt like explaining yourself to Hangman of all people, but maybe it was the determination in his eyes. The way he stared down at your cheek like his eyes could will the twing of pain away.

Hangman gave a half-hearted, inattentive nod. “That’s certainly a start.” He looked like gears were turning in his head, like he hadn’t given up on his first idea.

A flood of memories came back to you.

‘The only active duty pilot with a confirmed air-to-air kill.’ Coyote, introducing Hangman.

‘We call him Bagman, cause he’ll kill anyone and get anyone killed. He doesn’t seem to mind.’ Omaha commenting on Hangman’s aim at the dartboard.

‘That’s his second air-to-air kill.’ Bob, telling you what he could about the mission they’d just come back from.

‘Hangman’s deadly in the sky. I wouldn’t wanna cross him.’ Rooster, finally being honest about what he thought of Hangman, after the blonde saved his life.

Hangman had killed before, and in his line of work, with his level of skill, likely would again. He definitely didn’t mean what he said, certainly not literally. He wasn’t about to rush out to his truck and go hunting Devin in the streets, but it wasn’t something he of all people would say entirely jokingly either.

You slowly sat up in your chair. The world was spinning less now. Whether that was because the nausea was finally passing or because Hangman’s hand stayed on your cheek, grounding you in the moment, it was unclear. “I appreciate your concern,” you hedged, “but really, I’m fine. I can handle myself.”

Hangman snorted and let his hand fall away. “Obviously you can; you already kicked his ass to the curb on your own. Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna kill him for good measure.” Hangman hopped up on the bar and swung his legs over.

You probably should’ve objected to his comfort level invading your workspace. Penny was very explicit that no one was allowed behind the bar who didn’t work there and even more explicit that that applied to all naval aviators. Somehow, though, you doubted Hangman would rat you out, at least not today.

“Are you going to tell Penny?” Hangman mozied around behind the bar, picking up a rag and tossing it over his shoulder. He was looking for something, but he didn’t seem inclined to ask. You weren’t any more inclined to offer.

It would’ve broken whatever moment was passing between you. Caring? Camaraderie? You weren’t sure, but there was certainly some level of understanding that remained largely unspoken.

Hangman found what he was looking for in short order anyway. He flipped open the ice cooler and pulled the rag off his shoulder, filling it with a scoop of ice and tying the ends.

“Not now,” you were disinclined to bring it up to Penny.

The Hard Deck was a Navy bar, and Penny had made a lot of powerful friends. Hell, you had a lot of powerful friends if you were willing to use them; one of them, or at least a powerful person who was willing to help you, was standing right in front of you. You could only imagine what would happen to Devin if you told anyone. All of it would be deserved of course, but you doubted most of it would be legal. And that really wasn’t what you needed right now, and you weren’t ready to have that conversation anyway.

“Hold this to your cheek. You wanna get the swelling down,” In a reversal of roles, he leaned against the bar in the place that was normally yours and offered you his makeshift ice pack.

You took it with a quiet, “Thank you.”

Hangman nodded with a thoughtful expression, watching your hand raise it to your cheek, “I’ll let you tell them in your own time, but you’re going to go to someone to help you through this until then… professionally.”

It wasn’t a question. He wasn’t leaving room for debate. It was an order as plain as any he got in the Navy.

You nodded wordlessly against the ice pressed to your face. It was a reasonable expectation, a reasonable request. You weren’t sure if you needed it or not, but you supposed that was the point. You weren’t sure. Better to go too soon than too late.

“Good,” Hangman sighed, seeming relieved, and pushed off the bar. His muscles flexed with the motion, bulging against the short sleeves of his open button-up shirt. They remained tense as he crossed his arms over his chest. His teeth gritted behind his closed lips. “I’ll keep him out of the bar.”

“Hangman, you really don’t have to-”

“He hurt you.” Hangman cut you off with a dismissive wave of his hand. He looked serious, deadly serious. “That’s all I need to know. He’s not welcome here anymore.”

Before you had the chance to respond, not that you were entirely sure how you would, Hangman’s eyes left yours, staring at something over your shoulder out towards the beach.

“Do you have any makeup for that cheek?”

Your head turned, and you saw the outlines of Penny and Mav, arm in arm, making their way back to the bar. “Yeah,” you replied, “But my shoulder is a different story. I need to go find…”

Hangman jerked his button up off his shoulders and balled it up, tossing it across the bar to you. “Go quick. Put this on.”

“Hangman, I-”

“Go.” Hangman urged, and you ran off before Penny could see the two of you.

—------------------------------------------------

Your phone kept buzzing in your pocket, but you didn’t have time to check it.

You thought you knew what it was. Phoenix demanding to know why one of Jake Seresin’s shirts was wrapped around your shoulders. Hangman’s weren’t as distinctive as Bradley’s, usually solid colors with a barely-there logo on the pocket. None of the guys had noticed you were wearing it, but you knew Phoenix had the moment she came back in from the beach. She’d shot you a disappointed, skeptical look and immediately begun whispering to Bob as they walked away with their drinks.

Penny hadn’t been much better. She hadn’t identified which pilots’ shirt it was like Phoenix clearly had, but she was two steps away from asking when the evening rush began to pour in without any sign of slowing down.

The Hard Deck was slam-packed, and none of the bartenders had a second to spare. The newest class of TopGun recruits were graduating within a week, and it seemed that everyone had turned out for the upcoming occasion.

The bar was crowded with faces new and old. All of the graduating pilots were scattered around, and most of their instructors had made their way in at some point. Some of the pilots had families, wives and girlfriends, who had flown in and accompanied them to the bar that night. There were more than a few old friends in town to visit or siblings using the graduation as an excuse to get away.

Even most of Mav’s squadron was there. Penny’s old flame had claimed a spot by one of the dart boards, and his lieutenants were all taking turns trying to dethrone Hangman as the king of darts. Normally, they would have migrated to the pool tables by now, but the bar was too crowded for even TopGun’s finest to leverage their way into skipping the line to have a game.

One of the soon-to-be graduates hunkered down at the bar, some asshole who was billing himself as the new and improved Hangman, kept snapping his fingers at you to try to get your attention from behind the bar. You were dangerously close to ringing the bell on him the next time he did it, and Penny’s fingers were clearly itching to do the same. Tragically, neither of you thought that was a very good idea. Tonight might’ve been the one night where it was simply too busy to ring the bell.

There were so many people you couldn’t see past the sea of bodies pressing in around you, and it was a miracle that you didn’t bolt from the claustrophobia.

Marg after marg. Old fashioned after old fashioned. Beer after beer. The line never seemed to stop, and it was taking its toll on you. Tonight was simply not your night.

“Go,” Penny’s hand touched your shoulder and made you jump, spilling some of the tequila shot you were trying to hand off. “I’ll clean that. You look like you need a break. Take five.”

Normally on a busy night, you would’ve protested, insisted you could hold down the fort and done your best to help Penny push through the rush, but not that night.

Your shoulders slumped in relief, and you ducked under the gap in the bar without much of a second thought, pushing your way through the people towards the door to the kitchen. There was a ‘broken’ stool by the door to the kitchen that was in fact not broken at all but had a sign taped to it that said it was specifically so it was open for when workers were on break. The seat provided some much needed relief for your aching feet and even more aching shoulders.

Shaking cocktails was really aggravating the bruises just beneath the button up wrapped around your shoulders, and you found yourself hurting almost twice as much as normal this shift. That might’ve been why you felt like you were moving in slow motion the whole time. That or the sheer number of people had simply made the task seem insurmountable.

You were just closing your eyes and leaning back against the wall when your phone in your pocket buzzed again.

It wasn’t really a conscious decision to check it, more habit than anything else. And really, you hadn’t expected it to be anything that bad. You hadn’t heard from him all day.

But there it was. His name. His name a half a dozen times over the course of your shift. Each text progressively more urgent and pressing than the last.

‘I’m still coming to pick you up from work.’

Bile rose up in your throat, and you suppressed the overwhelming urge to bolt. The room was suddenly too hot and too crowded, and there were too many faces. Faces you recognized and faces you didn’t. A wash of faces that was the perfect place for him to hide, to wait, to lurk around for the opportune moment to reveal himself.

You couldn’t do this, couldn’t deal with this. Not here. Not now. Not in front of all these people. Not alone.

You did the first thing that came to mind.

It was stupid really. You couldn’t explain why it occurred to you, why you acted on it so immediately, why you thought it was a good idea at all. It probably wasn’t; it could just as easily have backfired in your face as anything else. But your gut told you it was what you should do. Really, your gut didn’t so much tell you as wrench you in that direction with an undeniable force.

“Hey can I talk to you for a sec?”

Hangman was an easy man to find, even despite the crowd, strutting around the dart boards like he owned the place, which he very nearly did, rubbing the other pilots noses in his shots that were somehow better blindfolded than theirs were with sight.

You interrupted him boasting loudly to Fanboy and Payback about how he didn’t even need to practice. Perfect marksmanship just came naturally to him. The rest of the pilots were all gathered at the high tops near the darts boards, mostly rolling their eyes. They were having some kind of tournament, or rather a competition to see if anyone could take Hangman down.

Payback seemed almost too happy for the interruption, but Fanboy was a bit more perceptive, at least at the moment. Fanboy’s eyes darted away to Phoenix’s table, and you saw the jerk of his head when he caught her eye. Funneling the female aviator’s attention in the direction of what was unfolding.

You, wearing Hangman’s shirt since he disappeared for half an hour earlier that day, asking to talk to him alone near the end of your shift. You knew exactly what it looked like.

“Sure.” Hangman’s tone was completely casual, not giving anything away, but when his back turned on his companions, his eyes were burning. You quickly looked away from his gaze and led him from the group.

“I wasn’t checking my phone.” The words were tumbling out of your mouth the moment he was out of the others’ earshot. You didn’t even bite your tongue long enough to turn around. “He’s been texting me my entire shift. He was supposed to be my ride home tonight, and I think he might show up soon.”

When you faced Hangman, you knew the panic in your voice and in your eyes was painfully obvious. Now that you were semi-alone with him, with someone who knew, there was no hiding how much it jarred you. Your hands fumbled with your phone trying to show him the flood of texts you’d gotten, unnoticed, over the last two hours.

Hangman didn’t look down even as you turned the phone to show him. His jaw was already clenched; his expression was agitated, visibly angry. His eyes weren’t looking at you or the phone. They were searching the faces in the crowd similar to the way yours had only moments before though far more thorough. The honed, trained eye of a military fighter pilot meticulously picked through the crowd for its target, finding nothing.

“Could you…” You hesitated to ask. It was such a ridiculous request. Just yesterday, Hangman would’ve been your absolute last choice to be in this position with; you would’ve risked handling it alone before asking for his help. But here he was. The only one who knew. The first one you asked. “I’ll give you a round on the house for it. I just… Would you mind giving me a ride home? I don’t want to stumble on him alone.”

Hangman didn’t hesitate or pull his eyes from where they continuously scanned the crowd, as if his gaze alone was enough to keep a threat at bay. “No beers required, Hurricane.” The words seemed to be coming out of his mouth even as you offered. Like he’d already decided what he was going to do the minute you told him the problem. “Wait here a sec? I’ll handle it.”

Hangman walked the short distance over to the bar, glancing back over his shoulder at you every few steps like he was making sure you hadn’t disappeared, and flagged down Penny. Something on his face must’ve told her it was urgent because she forwent several regulars and big tippers demanding drinks to beeline towards him. He leaned over the bar and whispered something in her ear, gesturing back in your direction.

Penny looked concerned, and she nodded along with what Hangman was saying until he turned to leave.

“If Penny asks,” Hangman put a hand on your shoulder, a firm grip holding you to his side as he led you through the throng of people towards the exit, “a guy was bothering you, and I drove you home cause you were scared of him.”

“Not entirely a lie,” You mumbled, shifting closer into Hangman’s side.

No one tried to stop you. No hands reached out for you. No one called out your name. You made it through entirely unscathed. You could feel eyes on you, but they didn’t raise the hairs on the back of your neck. You doubted, highly, that they were Devin’s. More likely, Hangman’s squadron were watching him retreat from the bar with you under his arm without so much as a goodbye. More likely, they were plotting and planning the questions they were going to hound the two of you with the next time they saw you. More likely, Phoenix was pointing out to everyone that you were wearing Hangman’s shirt.

—------

“Does he have a key?” Hangman didn’t break the silence until he’d turned onto your block, until he’d brought his truck to a slow crawl, looking for your tiny, inconsequential cookie cutter house in a row of tiny, inconsequential cookie cutter houses.

Yours was pretty much the only house without a Navy flag or Navy paraphernalia of some description sitting in the yard or stuck to a car in the driveway. The neighborhood was not far from the Hard Deck which was not far from the base, and the tiny houses geared towards first-time-buyers were crawling with Navy pilots and newlywed military couples who wanted to live offbase.

You were on the second sidestreet, the third house on the left. Hangman already knew the way without instruction. Penny had conned every Top Gun pilot with a car into driving you home at least a couple times. And while Hangman was usually the pilot she was least willing to ask, he was also the only one who was guaranteed to always be sober.

His question came out very sober. His usual lilting, teasing tone had dropped off somewhere today and never fully returned.

“He did. He… he told me he lost it, but…” You both knew better than to believe that.

Hangman pulled into your driveway and flicked the truck into park and turned it off. “Tomorrow I’ll drive you to the hardware store, and we’ll change the locks.”

“You don’t have to…”

“Do you feel safe with him having a key?” Hangman cut you off. He was looking down at you with just a touch of condescension, so classically Hangman. Like he knew the answer already, like he knew you knew the answer already, and that you were silly if you pretended not to or refused him.

You knew where this was going, and you thought about lying, just to relieve Hangman of whatever false sense of duty or obligation he had imposed on himself by being the one to find you at the Hard Deck. But it was way too late. Hangman wasn’t stupid, but he was incredibly, irritatingly stubborn. And he’d already set his mind to helping you through this. “No.”

“Then tomorrow morning I’ll change the locks.” Hangman threw his door open and hopped out of the truck. It slammed closed behind him as he circled around to your side. You made to open your door, but Hangman beat you to it. “Alarm services are expensive,” He continued, offering you a hand, “but they make door jammers that have sound alarms on them at least, and my sister bought some cheap window versions a while back that I could help install.”

You took Hangman’s hand and dumbly followed him up to your door as he rambled on about extra door locks and doorbell cameras. All options that you could pick up tomorrow for him to put in.

“That’s too much effort,” You halfheartedly protested as you spun your keys around trying to find the one to your front door.

There really weren’t that many keys. There were a couple to the Hard Deck, one to the shed where Penny kept beach supplies, and one to Devin’s place that you hadn’t returned. They were all distinct shapes and colors, but you couldn’t seem to focus long enough to find the plain silver key to your own door. Maybe because you knew there was another one, exactly like it, somewhere across town at that moment.

“Not if it makes you feel safe.” Hangman leaned back against your door frame, his eyes skimming up and down your block as if he was still on alert in the crowded bar, still looking for signs of trouble, signs of him.

“Would you…” Your words trailed off as you watched his darting eyes. The question came bubbling up before you could stop it, before you even really thought of it. It was less a question and more a response to his vigilance, to the thought that his vigilance might be warranted and necessary.

“Would I…?” Hangman didn’t let it go. His eyes turned to look at you.

You chewed at your bottom lip, debating if it was worth asking, debating if it was necessary.

He probably thought it was, if his mannerisms were any indication, if his talk about alarms was any indication, if walking you to your door and watching your back were any indication.

“Would you come in?”

Hangman raised a doubtful eyebrow, sure you didn’t mean what those words usually meant.

“Not like that, it’s just… You’re right. He probably still has a key, and if we can’t fix it till the morning…”

Understanding seemed to wash over his face, and Hangman kicked himself up off the door jam. “If it’ll help,” he immediately conceded. “I’ll sleep on your couch.”

“It…” You hesitated, but only for a moment. “I think it would.”

The silence inside your home was almost palpable. It was late enough that going to bed wouldn’t have been awkward for either of you, but neither of you were tired. And neither of you seemed up to faking being tired just to get away.

Hangman sat on one end of the couch, and you sat on the other. At some point, you mustered the effort to turn on the tv. The local news was a quiet, bland drone of background noise cutting through the still air around the two of you.

You felt like you should say something. Maybe ‘should’ wasn’t the right word; maybe you wanted to say something. But either way you didn’t know where to begin.

You had only ever been alone with Hangman when he was dropping you off as a favor to Penny, times that were filled with snarky jokes and constant nagging from both of you, and earlier that day in the bar. You weren’t close. You weren’t friends. You were barely acquaintances. He was only here because he was in the right (or wrong, depending how you looked at it) place at the right time.

“Thank you,” That seemed like a good place to start. “For today, thank you.”

“You have nothing to thank me for.” Hangman countered quickly. His eyes stayed on the tv, though they were clearly out of focus staring at the screen.

“I do though. You could’ve told everyone.”

“You weren’t ready for that.” He added it under his breath, countering without cutting you off.

“You could’ve left me to finish out my shift.”

“Not with him coming to the bar.”

“You could’ve left after you dropped me off.”

“He has a key.”

“You could’ve turned and walked out the door when you first saw me at the bar.”

Hangman let out a heavy sigh, not of annoyance or exasperation but a sigh weighed down with duty and concern. “No, I couldn’t.”

Your eyes met his over the center of the couch, and a breath rushed out of your lungs under the intensity in his gaze.

—-------------------------------------

You woke up in your bed, mouth open, with more than a little drool pooling on your pillow.

You had no memory of falling asleep there, of getting into bed, of going to your room at all.

You remember being on the couch, talking to Hangman. You remembered the way his eyes, intense, open, and honest, compelled you to speak. The way you couldn’t bite back the story pouring from your lips. The story of Devin asking you out, of falling for him in those early weeks, of how he changed after you committed to him. The story of what he did that night, of his buddies who sat back and did nothing, of the jokes you heard the three of them cracking as you ran from the room.

You remembered Hangman crossing the space between you and putting a hand on your arm, how cautious he was touching you, how much time he left you to pull away, how gentle his touch was against your skin. You remembered throwing yourself into his lap, sobbing into his shoulder as he held you against his chest and rubbed soothingly up and down your back, whispering promises that that asshole would never hurt you again.

You didn’t remember anything after that. You must’ve fallen asleep in his lap.

Sitting up, you found the answer to your unasked question.

A folded piece of notebook paper sitting on the pillow next to you:

‘Thought the bed would be preferable to sharing the couch with me. If I’m wrong and you wake up in the middle of the night and don’t want to be alone, you can always wake me up. If not, I’ll have coffee ready for you in the morning. - Jake.’

As you read, his words the night before echoed in your head to the beat of a nonexistent drum as you read the note once, then twice, then a third time.

‘No, I couldn’t.’

You carefully folded the paper up and tucked it in the top drawer of your bedside table.

True to his word, Hangman was wide awake, standing in your kitchen pouring himself a cup of coffee when you walked out of your room.

“H-Hi,” you stuttered.

Last night, in the comfort of darkness, with exhaustion clouding over your mind and his arms holding you close, it had seemed the most logical thing in the world to open up to Hangman. And with the light of day glinting through the windows, with him dressed in the button up he’d wrapped around you the day before, with him lounging back against your counter as he sipped from your favorite mug, with an overconfident air that was too comfortable for any normal person’s first time in your home… It was odd to think that feeling hadn’t changed, that you still felt able to bare your soul to him, that you didn’t feel a need to run back into your room and get changed or freshen up, that you were perfectly comfortable being seen by him like this, a tired quaking mess with puffy red eyes.

Part of you expected to walk out into your kitchen to an epiphany that you’d made a horrible mistake, that Hangman was exactly as much of a cocky asshole as you thought he was two days ago. But the epiphany never came.

“Morning,” Hangman took a sip of coffee and set the mug aside. He looked casual, at peace, like this was just another day, like he’d done this a million times. “I’m ready to go whenever you are. I found the toolbox in the bottom of your coat closet. Hope you don’t mind. We’ll probably need a few things if we’re gonna do anything more than replace the locks.”

“Y-Yeah,” You grabbed a mug off the drying rack and crossed the room to pour yourself a cup of coffee from the pot beside him, your shoulder brushing passed his as you poured. “Sounds good.”

“Hey.” Hangman seemed to immediately pick up that something was plaguing your mind. He didn’t reach out for you like last night, quite the opposite. He took a step away and turned to face you, crossin his arms over his chest, “If you want to be alone, I’ll head out. I’ll go to the store, pick up the locks, and change them myself. You can have time to yourself if you need it.”

“No,” You immediately countered his obvious misinterpretation of your mood. “I-I don’t think I want to be alone. I’m just… antsy I guess.”

He didn’t seem to fully buy it, but he let your excuse hang. “Okay then, we’ll head out when you’re ready.”

—----------------------

All day, as Hangman worked around your house first changing the locks then installing alarms then fixing a window that wouldn’t lock and then righting a wobbly chair leg that had absolutely nothing to do with your safety, neither of you mentioned the note he left or you crying in his arms or falling asleep on his lap or his quiet ‘No, I couldn’t’.

—--------------------------

You made a vow to yourself when Hangman finally left your house late Saturday afternoon. You were never going to ring up his card at the Hard Deck again. It couldn’t really repay what he’d done for you, the feeling of safety he’d brought to you in what was probably your most vulnerable moment so far on this earth, but you knew he wouldn’t want anything more showy. Hangman loved being the center of attention, but somehow you knew he wouldn’t want attention for this.

True to your vow, the next Saturday evening, Hangman was on his third beer and had, unwittingly on his part, not paid a dime.

The Hard Deck was far less crowded that night. The graduating Top Gun candidates had all flown away, and only those currently stationed at the base, mostly Maverick’s squad, and some locals remained. A few dozen patrons milled around a room far larger than they needed with maybe a dozen pressed up to the bar. Most of the dozen fell under your responsibilities at the moment. Penny had, unintentionally, abandoned you not long before when Maverick had wandered in and taken up his usual stool.

Omaha and Halo, the first aviators to arrive, had claimed one of the pool tables early in the night, and the rest of the squad had started rotating through matchups. It appeared Fritz was on a hot streak, one that was no doubt about to end as his next opponent in line was Hangman.

All seemed right with the world. The constant buzz of voices, the crooning of the Goo Goo Dolls song that Bob had selected on the jukebox, the ready flow of beer to your usual patrons. Everything was fine.

Until the door opened one last time. Not that places of business ever ‘expected’ anyone because they hardly sent out invitations to come buy beer, but you really weren’t expecting anyone else that night. All the regulars were already inside.

The door banging against the wall as it was flung open was enough to draw your surprised eyes up to the entryway.

Face lit by the sun setting over the beach through the windows on the opposite wall, he was unmistakable as he marched into view flanked by his two buddies. They immediately began scanning the room.

Your breath rushed out of your lungs, exhaling in a gust that you couldn’t hold back any more than the wind.

No, no, no. He wasn’t here. He couldn’t be here. He couldn’t confront you here. He couldn’t corner you alone.

There was no time to think, no time to check with Penny if it was ok to leave your station, no time to get to the door or bolt out the back.

‘I’ll keep him out of the bar.’

It was your first instinct when you saw the text the weekend before, and it was your first instinct when you saw him that night.

“Hurricane?” Penny called after you as, without so much as a word in her direction, you ducked under the gap in the bar and made a beeline for the pool tables.

You barely heard her, and if you did, it didn’t register.

“Jake,” his real name leaving your lips was enough to draw most of his coworkers’ attention, all those in earshot at least. You grabbed his arm the second he was within reach, inadvertently clawing his skin with your nails as you pulled him up from where he was hunched over the pool table lining up a shot.

Jake laughed and shrugged off your arm before he even turned around and saw who it was. “Hey,” he rubbed at the red marks in his skin, “I was just…”

The words died on his lips when he turned and saw the panic in your eyes. It was brimming up inside you, overflowing and choking you off from every other sensation except the desperation for Jake to understand.

He knew better than anyone that there was only one thing that could make you look like that, feel like that. His head jerked up immediately in the direction of the door, as if he could sense the direction of the impending doom.

You watched the lighthearted smirk that constantly plagued his lips fall away. You watched the light in his eyes cloud over in darkness. As his gaze went up over your shoulder to the door, where one of the three men with angry expressions and dark eyes spotted your back amongst the khaki uniforms and began moving.

Jake’s arm twisted in your grip and grabbed you by the elbow, jerking you unceremoniously behind his back. There was no time for pleasantries, no time to be nice about whatever he was about to do.

“Fanboy, stay with her.” Jake ordered over his shoulder to the nearest aviator. His gaze didn’t waiver from the three men approaching, even as he issued commands.

Most of the aviators in Mav’s squad were scattered around the room. Mav was at the bar talking with Penny and Halo. Fanboy and Coyote had been watching Hangman school Fritz, who was being hyped up by Payback. Rooster was at a table not far from the pool game talking to a pretty girl. And Phoenix and Bob were half spectating from their perch by the jukebox discussing something that had gone wrong in a training run that afternoon.

Fanboy caught you and held you up as Jake pushed you in his direction. “What’s going on?”

Jake didn’t answer. He side-stepped in front of you, half blocking you from view, and walked to the edge of the pool area. There was a buffer zone between himself and you. He was the first line of defense, and he was giving the second, Fanboy, room to react.

“You fucking bitch!” If Fanboy didn’t know what was going on before, he instantly caught on.

Fanboy’s arms tensed around yours. His back went rigged, as if a commanding officer had just called him to attention, and he curled away, pulling you back behind him and putting his body in front of you as a shield. Even with Fanboy hovering in the way, his body didn’t hide Devin’s eyes. They sought you out around Jake’s frame and over Fanboy’s shoulder; they found you huddled up behind the Navy uniforms and the fancy stars pinned to the pilots chests. No number of medals pinned to Jake’s chest could stop the chill that ran down your spine in response to the venom in Devin’s tone. You wanted to look away, but the daggers in his gaze skewered you in place, held you hostage.

You wanted to curl up and hide, preferably behind Jake... Well, preferably in a home far away from there wrapped in heavy blankets with many deadbolts between you and Devin with Jake vigilantly standing guard at the door.

Devin tried to walk straight past Jake, like he didn’t even see him. Jake wasn’t having any of it.

A thick, muscular arm stuck out across the length of Devin’s shoulders as he tried to pass, holding him back.

Devin wasn’t a very big guy. He was well toned, but he was no naval aviator. He was no Jake Seresin. Jake had about an inch on Devin, but his well built frame made up for their near identical height. Devin had never been one to hit the gym hard while Jake certainly was, and it showed. It showed in the way a single arm without so much as a brace didn’t move even as Devin walked straight into it.

If the rest of the bar weren’t looking when Devin shouted that you were a bitch, they certainly were when he glared up at Jake. “Out of the way you fucker!”

Jake getting out of the way was about the last thing you wanted to happen, and Jake seemed disinclined to oblige either. His arm didn’t move from where it blocked Devin’s path, even as Devin glowered up at him.

The staring match lasted only a moment before Devin, impatient as always, gave up and turned back to glaring at you. He shouted, unnecessarily loudly, across the minimal distance between the two of you, “You changed the locks on me?”

There was shuffling behind you and the sound of something clanging onto the pool table.

You couldn’t bring yourself to turn your head away from Devin, couldn’t look away, couldn’t let him out of your sight. But there was the sound of footsteps as first Coyote, then Fritz, then Payback came into range in your peripheral vision.

None of them knew what this was about, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out where this was going. And any idiot could tell whose side they would be on in a fight between Jake and Devin.

“She didn’t. I did.” Jake declared at a similarly loud volume, pulling Devin’s attention back on him, demanding Devin shift his focus off of you. “You got a problem with that, you take it up with me.”

Devin took a step back, finally abandoning his futile attempt to confront you in favor of squaring up to Jake.

As Devin stepped back, the trio of pilots stepped forward. Fritz approached first, joining Fanboy in front of you. Payback followed after Fritz, lingering halfway between him and Jake, a bystander ready to step in if things got out of hand.

Coyote, however, had no questions about how any altercation would go down. His hand came down as he walked up behind Jake, slapping down reassuringly on Jake's shoulder to let him know he wasn’t alone. Coyote flanked Jake at such a close distance that it made it impossibly clear that, if this turned into a fight, it would not be three on one.

It wouldn’t even be three on two for that matter. Devin’s buddies, who had crossed the bar with him had hung back a few feet, giving Devin the space he wanted to scream at you or confront you or whatever else he had been planning before Jake intercepted. The duo found themselves with two bar tables between them and Devin. One of which was, ever so unfortunately for them, occupied by none other than Bradley Bradshaw and his drinking companion.

Devin’s friends would be forgiven for not realizing that they were offering up the chance to divide the group in half. Bradley, per usual, wasn’t in his Navy uniform, and a guy in a faded Hawaiian shirt didn’t exactly look intimidating. At least not while he was sitting down chatting up a pretty girl.

Seeing the escalation Coyote invited, and flashing his eyes to where you cowered behind his squadmates, Rooster got to his feet with a slow, lithe push off the table in front of him and turned his back on Devin. Not even bothering to give the belligerent asshole, currently one on two against Hangman and Coyote, the time of day, he turned his entire attention to the backup Devin brought with him.

Never in your life had you been scared of any of the naval aviators, but there was something especially intimidating about the incredibly casual way Bradley put himself alone in a fight against two men. His relaxed stance, completely unbothered by the numbers game he was playing. His head, cocking to one side to crack his neck, and then the other.

“You the latest pilot she’s spreading her legs for?” Devin snarled up at Jake, completely oblivious to what was going on behind him and unconcerned by Coyote’s presence.

Jake was entirely unphased. His voice was calm and steady even as Devin’s got more and more red with each passing moment. “No, but I am a friend. And if you have a problem with her you’re gonna have to go through me…” Jake added as an afterthought, “And him,” jerking his head to Coyote.

“You think she’ll fuck you if you play hero?” Devin spat out the word fuck as if the thought of you and sex in the same sentence disgusted him. “You don’t gotta try that hard to get her to spread.”

Jake shrugged and casually dismissed the comment. “That’s really not my business or yours.”

“She is my business; that’s my girl.”

Devin jabbed a finger over Jake’s shoulder in your direction without looking away from Jake, and you instinctively shrunk further back behind Fanboy. Until you felt the material between your fingers, you didn’t even realize that your hand had reached up to fist the back of Fanboy’s uniform.

You didn’t know, logically, why you were afraid. Whatever Jake was doing, he was doing a marvelous job of keeping Devin’s eyes off of you. You were absolutely certain that Devin would have to knock Jake out to get to you, not that he could even manage that. You were also absolutely certain that even if he did, he’d still have to make it through Rooster, Fanboy, Fritz, Payback, and Coyote, not to mention the dozen Navy guys from other squads currently spectating who would jump in to assist, or Penny or Mav. There was just something about his finger pointing at you, accusing you, that made that feeling of helplessness bubble up inside you again, that made you feel pinned, trapped under his hand.

“I’ll do whatever I want with her.”

It was like Jake knew or could sense your growing bubble of fear. He leaned ever so slightly to one side, like he was simply shifting his weight from foot to foot, before standing back up straight in between Devin’s finger and you.

“Not anymore.” Jake declared firmly. “You’re already about a mile closer to her than I want you to be.”

That declaration made Devin’s lips twist up into something akin to a smirk. “I’ve been a lot closer to her than this.”

Jake’s shoulders tensed, and for the first time it seemed like Devin got to him. “I know exactly how close you got.” His voice darkened, and you could practically picture the look in his eyes, practically knew it by heart from the night you told him what Devin had done. “Where I’m from, we don’t treat women like that.”

Devin laughed humorously, heading tilting back to let the single tone ring out in the air. “Well we aren’t where you’re from. That’s my girl, and I’ll do what I want with her.”

You shivered involuntarily, like someone had dropped an ice cube down the back of your shirt. It sent a chill through you to think of Devin alone with you, doing what he wanted with you. You remembered what he did the last time he had that power over you. You couldn’t let it happen again.

“No,” It took a moment to register that Jake was the one snarling, not Devin, not even you. The word came out in a hiss between his teeth. “You’ll do what she wants. And right now she doesn’t want you here.”

For whatever reason, Devin was getting to Jake. The unshakeable, unflappable Jake Seresin was rising to a rolling boil under the surface of his skin, and there was nothing he could do to hide it. From the tone of his voice to the tension in his shoulders, to the way his fingers twitched in and out of a fist, Devin and what he was saying was under Jake’s skin.

Devin saw it; you could tell. You couldn’t see his eyes around the bodies between the two of you, but you saw his posture change, his stance open up and his chest puff out. He leaned in and sneered, “She needed to be put in her place. She looks better roughed up anyway.”

You felt their eyes on you. The squad. The whole bar. None of them were actually looking at you. None of their heads turned, but you knew every one of them was staring at an image of you in their minds. Maybe they all figured it out before. Maybe they knew when Devin walked in or when Jake escorted you home. Or maybe they didn’t know anything at all, but either way Devin just gave them confirmation.

Payback was no longer content to play the bystander. His shoes clicked on the floor, echoing in the silence that existed throughout the bar as Jake and Devin sparred. He flanked Jake’s other side, shoulder to shoulder with him as Coyote had been since the confrontation began.

Coyote didn’t move an inch except for the hand at his side that clenched into a fist.

Jake took a step closer. But for the inch of height difference, he stood nose to nose with Devin as he said, “Where I’m from, a man lays his hands on a woman, and you take him out back and put one between his eyes.”

Devin pushed up, must’ve stood on his tiptoes to do it, to close the gap with Jake, to put himself on the same level as the pilot. “She’s mine, you fucker.” Flecks of spit, visible even at your distance, splattered against Jake’s cheek. “Get the fuck out of the way.”

Devin’s hands came up and shoved Jake in both shoulders, hard.

Jake’s shoulders didn’t give an inch. His feet didn’t budge. His posture didn’t change.

Jake’s voice dropped low, so low you barely heard it. If a single soul in the bar had been focused on anything other than the confrontation at hand, if the jukebox hadn’t run to the end of its queue of songs and left the bar in silence, if any more distance had been between the two of you, you wouldn’t have heard the rough, guttural retort from somewhere deep inside Jake’s chest, “You’re really, really gonna have to make me.”

Without warning, Devin swung.

He was standing too close to Jake, almost chest to chest with the taller aviator. There was no good angle from which to strike, and his arm took a wide arc away from his body to get the necessary momentum and distance to hit at Jake with any force.

It was like it moved in slow motion, Jake’s head turned, his eyes following the direction of the swing as it approached his face.

You gasped and clung tighter to Fanboy, who blindly reached back to clutch your arm, pulling you in closer to him.

The fear, entirely for Jake, was also entirely unnecessary.

Jake’s head leaned to one side and effortlessly avoided the blow. Devin stumbled a couple steps to the side as his momentum carried him past Jake.

It gave Jake the space he needed to counter, not with a wide, slow hook around to the side of Devin’s face, but with a swift, firm uppercut to his jaw.

The connection sent a crack echoing through the bar, and Devin’s entire body went slack before he even hit the floor.

Coyote caught his arm before he could collapse, not that it did Devin any good to be under Coyote’s care instead of Jake’s. Coyote’s grip was so tight on Devin’s upper arm that you were sure it would bruise not just the skin but the muscles underneath.

Jake bent down over the other man and bent a finger up under his jaw. Devin’s head tipped up into Jake’s face without any protest and fell back to bob loosely to one side the moment Jake wasn’t supporting him any more.

“He’ll be out cold for a while.” Jake declared, glancing up to give Coyote a nod.

Coyote dropped his grip on Devin and let him crumple unceremoniously to the floor.

“Now,” Jake left Coyote to deal with Devin, stepping over the unconscious body on the floor as one might step over a puddle in the street. He ambled over to Rooster, whose presence had been more than enough to hold off Devin’s two buddies for the brief ten seconds of fighting, if it could even be categorized as a fight.

“Are you two,” Jake wagged a finger between Devin’s two friends as he came shoulder to shoulder with Rooster, “the ones she told me helped him out last week? Cause I gotta bone to pick with them too?”

“No, we didn’t!” The shorter of the two declared loudly. “Look, we don’t want any trouble.”

Jake’s head turned to glance back over his shoulder, and for the first time since Devin confronted you, you made eye contact with Jake.

His eyes were hard, cold, unfeeling. He wasn’t angry anymore. He wasn’t upset or worried or fearful or any of the other emotions you felt warring inside of you. The mask was back on, the unflappable exterior that only you had seen beneath before tonight. He wasn’t waiting for them; he was waiting for you. A good soldier, waiting for his orders.

Imperceptibly to everyone but Jake who was watching you like a hawk, you shook your head. This had gone on long enough already tonight. You just wanted it to be over.

“Well then,” Jake turned back to the two friends in tow. “Why don’t you take your buddy and get out of here?” Jake stepped close, towering over the shorter one as he added, “Tell him if he comes back round here to bother her again; I will spend the rest of my life making sure he’s too afraid to even look at another woman.”

Beside Jake, Rooster began casually cracking the knuckles of his fist one by one, presumably for emphasis.

There was a dull thud that drew the quad of men’s attention back towards Devin.

Payback was squatting over the unconscious man. He’d seemingly been rooting through the other man’s pockets. The sound of his wallet dropping back onto Devin’s back was the noise that drew the men’s eyes and everyone else’s watching as a result.

Payback was waving a credit card in the air in Jake’s general direction.

“Good idea,” Jake wandered over and snatched up the card. “Call it payback for disturbing the bar tonight.” Jake’s teasing smirk was back as he used Payback’s callsign. He abandoned the group to amble back towards Penny at the bar, and his absence seemed to break the tension.

The patrons, scattered around, all began slowly turning back to their tables. The conversation was quieter, hushed whispers that were no doubt mostly about the fight they’d just watched ensue, but their eyes seemed to have drank in their fill of the scene.

Under the watchful eye of Rooster, with Coyote and Payback standing by, Devin’s two friends draped their friend unceremoniously across their shoulders. Despite the struggle they were clearly having, not a soul offered to help as they stumbled under his weight out of the bar.

“I hope they have to drag him to the car.”

You jumped and turned your head to find that at some point in the chaos Phoenix and Bob had come up on the other side of the pool table as a last line of defense.

“Please, I hope they faceplant in the gravel.”

You let out a humorous laugh at Phoenix’s comment as your body finally slumped under the weight of the evening, resting back against the pool table with a huff of air.

“Are you…”

“Fritz, if you ask me if I’m okay, I will walk out of this bar right now.” You held up a finger to silence him.

You were not okay. You would be okay, one day; you knew that much. But that day was not today.

In the distance, like you were hearing an echo from the other end of a long tunnel, you registered the bell ringing for a free round. Your vision was tunneling too, but you could make out Jake was leaning across the bar, ringing the bell himself as he slammed Devin’s card on the bar in front of Penny.

Maverick, always present in front of Penny’s bar, slapped him on the back and whispered something in his ear, but Jake seemed, for once, thoroughly uninterested in his commanding officer.

His eyes, you thought, appeared to be focused on you. He left the bar before he even got his own free drink and headed straight back towards the pool tables.

Coyote and Rooster tried to talk to him, but he brushed him off. By the time he reached Fanboy, still awkwardly hovering in front of you, his destination was clear, and Fanboy slid right out of his way.

“Come on,” Jake held out a hand to you. “Penny won’t mind if you don’t finish out your shift.”

It wasn’t a tunnel you were looking through now so much as a camera, the lens zooming in and zooming out, narrowing and expanding your field of vision around Jake.

Jake, the only thing in the world right now that felt safe, that felt ok.

You numbly, clumsily, flung your hand out to grasp his, and as his fingers laced through yours you thought you might have a different answer to Fritz’s question, not that you’d ever voice it.

—————————————

“Thank you.”

It was about an hour after you and Jake had left the bar.

He’d walked you out the back door of the Hard Deck and down the beach for the better part of half an hour before the two of you wordlessly agreed to find a comfortable spot to sit down in the sand.

The silence had been more comfortable than you ever thought silence with Jake could be. Every time he’d driven you home from the Hard Deck, he’d felt the need to fill every available moment with some kind of noise, compulsively turning up the volume on the radio or making snarky, sarcastic commentary about anything that passed by the window. Silence was not Jake Seresin’s forte.

Yet the silence between the two of you had felt like a comforting blanket, wrapping you in understanding. He already knew what happened between you and Devin; the hard part of that explanation was over. He already knew why Devin was there that night, what must have prompted him to show up, what he was hinting at in front of the whole bar. He knew nothing else about you, but he knew this, knew every detail of the most painful moment of your life, and he accepted it without question, gave you what you needed without question, helped you without question.

“You don’t have to thank me for doing the right thing for once in my life, Hurricane.” Jake murmured. “It’s a nice change of pace.”

You wished you could deny that, say that Jake was a great guy, say that he always did the right thing or that he was a good man. But the truth was he often wasn’t. He was flawed, deeply so, rude when it was uncalled for, inappropriate when the moment was serious, lewd when he should have been respectful, confrontational when he should have been kind. He was as flawed as any other human being, maybe more so.

But when you needed him he was there. When no one else was there, he was there. And that, to you, forgave any multitude of sins.

“What did Mav say to you when you left?”

“What?” Jake did a quick double take, looking down at you beside him. “Oh,” He chuckled to himself. “He said, ‘Good man, no push-ups tomorrow when I shoot you down.’”

“Well,” you smiled, “I owe you a lot more than a few push ups.”

“You owe me nothing.”

You squeezed his hand, his fingers which had been laced in yours since he led you out of the Hard Deck, “How about a second chance? If I remember correctly we didn’t get off to the best start.”

Jake smirked, “Not a chance am I starting over. You’re still my Hurricane.”

11K notes · View notes

writers-potion · 7 days

Note

Could you give any advice for "descriptive" writing of any scene or action scenes or mapping out the scenery (Mountains, forests, streets etc) - i believe this is a struggle for Non-English speaking writers due to lack of vast vocabulary.

Common Scenery Description Tips

Vocabulary is clearly an important part of description, but it doesn’t have to be a limit. The most important thing about description in fiction is picking the right details to mention:

How does the details add to the mood of the story? A mountain ridge will be dark, gray and foggy if the overall mood is meant to be mysterious/brooding. In contrast, a mountain can be brilliantly snow-capped, lush green and “smiling down” upon the character if they’re out for a light stroll.

How are the contrasts/complementary aspects being brought out?

Are you using the five senses? You can even combine the senses, ie. blue ringing of the church bells

(If you have the POV character) what

Some other tips for setting description:

Use similes and metaphors. Creative figures of speech always get my attention as a reader.

Mention story-specific elements. For example, “The sky was the shade of Zoes’ eyes” or “the mountains looked like a group of trolls sleeping on one another”

Be concise. Today’s readers don’t want to read paragraphs and paragraphs about one landscape. Outline the larger elements in the scene, their location and general mood. Add some details, then move on.

If the same location appears multiple times, differentiate the description little by little as you write, instead of trying to lay out one scene in too much detail at once.

That said, here are some helpful words/phrases:

Forests/Mountains

Color: bone-white, phantom-white, hazy gray

Sound: rumbling, booming grumbling, bellowing clapping, trundling, growling, thundering

Shape: crinkled, crumpled, knotted, grizzled, rumpled, wrinkled, craggy, jagged, gnarled, rugose

Action: sky-punching/stabbing/piercing/spearing, heaven-touching/kissing, snow-cloaked/hooded/wreathed/festooned

Sloping sides, sharp/rounded ridges, high point/peak/summit

Majestic, gargantuan humbling, vast, massive, titanic, towering, monumental, mighty, vast, humbling

Mountains having faces, etc.

Seas

Color: blue-green, crystal-clear crystalline, emerald, frothy, hazy, glistening, pristine, turquoise

Size: boundless, abyssal, fathomless, unconquerable, vast, wondrous

Sound: billowing, blustering, bombastic

Action: boisterous, agitated, angry, biting, breaking, brazen. Churning, bubbling, changing, brooding, calm, convulsing, enticing erratic, fierce, tempestuous, turbulent, undulating

Alluring, blissful, betwitching, breezy, captivating, chaotic, chilly, elemental, disorienting

Deserts

Sight: A landscape of sand, flat, harsh sunlight, cacti, tumbleweeds, dust devils, cracked land, crumbing rock, sandstone, canyons, wind-worn rock formations, tracks, dead grasses, vibrant desert blooms (after rainfall), flash flooding, dry creek

Sounds: Wind (whistling, howling, piping, tearing, weaving, winding, gusting), birds cawing, flapping, squawking, the fluttering shift of feasting birds, screeching eagles, the sound of one’s own steps, heavy silence, baying wild dogs

Smell: Arid air, dust, one’s own sweat and body odor, dry baked earth, carrion

Touch: Torrid heat, sweat, cutting wind, cracked lips, freezing cold (night) hard packed ground, rocks, gritty sand, shivering, swiping away dirt and sweat, pain from split lips and dehydration, numbness in legs, heat/pain from sun stroke, clothes…

Taste: Grit, dust, dry mouth & tongue, warm flat canteen water, copper taste in mouth, bitter taste of insects for eating, stringy wild game (hares, rats) the tough saltiness of hardtack, biscuits or jerky, an insatiable thirst or hunger

Streets

Dusty, fume-filled, foul, sumptuous, broad, bucolic, decayed, mournful, seemingly endless, empty, unpaved, lifeless, dreadfully genteel, muddy, nondescript, residential/retail

Bleach, flimsy, silent, narrow, crooked, furrowed, smoggy, commonplace, tumbledown, treeless, shady

The blacktop streets absorb the spring sunshine as if intent upon sending heaven's warmth back through my soles.

The streets absorbed the emotions in the air, the city as the steady and reassuring mother.

The streets were a marriage of sounds, from bicycle wheels to chattering.

In the refreshing light of early daytime, the streets had the hues of artistic dreamtime, soft yet bold pastels.

Cobbled streets flowed as happy rivers in sunlight.

Parties

Some extra tips for locations like parties, where lots of action is going around practically everywhere:

Focus on the important characters - where they are, who they’re with.

Provide some overall description of the structure of the party scene (a pool, a two-storey house with yard?), then move on to details.

Don’t try to describe everything.

whirlwind of laughter and music, a symphony of joyous chaos.

It was a gathering that shimmered with the glow of twinkling lights and echoed with the rhythm of dancing feet.

The air was alive with excitement, buzzing with conversations and the clink of glasses.

Every corner held a story waiting to unfold, a moment waiting to be captured in memory.

It was a tapestry of colors, a mosaic of faces, each adding their own brushstroke to the vibrant canvas of the night.

Laughter cascaded like a waterfall, infectious and unstoppable, filling the room with warmth.

The night was a carnival of senses, with aromas of delicious food mingling with the melodies that filled the air.

Time seemed to slip away in the whirl of the party, moments blending into each other like colors on a palette.

The energy of the crowd was electric, pulsing through the room like a heartbeat, binding everyone in a shared moment of celebration.

It was a celebration of life, where worries faded into the background, and the present moment was all that mattered.

746 notes · View notes

daisies-daydreams · 11 months

Note

task force 141 + konig where they gangbang y/n (they corner them in the lockerroom/barracks-- y/n accidentally goes into the wrong room, or is it really the wrong room??) OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT and they each take their turn :DD AAAA im so sorry if its difficult i just really love ur writing :") please take ur time and if u ever do consider this THANK U :")

Pairing: 141 + König x F!Reader Category: Smut (18+) Warnings: Consensual Gangbanging, Multiple (and I mean multiple) Orgasms, Clit Play, Oral Sex (69), Penis in Vagina Sex, Thigh Fucking, Anal Sex, Spanking, Vaginal/Anal Fingering, Reader is Going to be Sore 💀 Word Count: 4.1k+

Author’s Note: Hi there! Thank you very much for your request. There were so many different scenarios but I was able to eventually dwindle it down to Y/N walking into the wrong locker room (whoopsie daisy). Also, König is included in the fic, I just couldn’t find a picture with all of them. I hope you enjoy!

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

You yawned as you stretched your arms above your head. The sound of the water spraying from the showers was music to your ears-your body worn and grimy from the recent mission. You pushed open the door and padded inside, your steps heavy with exhaustion. All you had on your mind was taking a quick shower and slipping beneath your covers. Billows of steam rushed towards you as you opened the double doors. You headed towards your locker and paid no mind to the other bodies wandering about the room. You furrowed your brows when the combination didn’t work. You frowned as you tried again. Nothing. You flinched when a distinctly male voice cleared his throat behind you.

“Think you’re in the wrong room, lovie”.

Your eyes widened as you slowly turned around. Your blood ran cold. Your lieutenant, Ghost, was standing in front of you with crossed arms, his bulging muscles still dripping with hot water. You blushed when you realized he wasn’t wearing his mask. His face was rugged and littered with scars, an obvious sign of him living through years of combat. Your heart began to race as he took one step closer. You couldn’t tear your eyes away when they wandered down to see his girthy cock hanging between his legs. You bit your lip when you caught a glimpse of it twitching to life. Ghost was only a few feet in front of you as his arms fell to his sides.

“What’re you doin’ in ‘ere, hm, Sergeant?” he mused with a raised brow. His shadow swallowed you whole as you tried to look away. You swallowed a lump in your throat, gripping the towel you held in your arms.

“I-I’m sorry. It was an accident-truly,” you stammered as you felt heat rise to your cheeks. Your eyes flicked around the room to look anywhere but at him, only to lock eyes with the other men. Your knees felt weak as they all stood there staring at you and your flimsy cover-up. You felt your breath punched out of your lungs when you realized they were just as stark naked as Ghost. Your lips parted as your mind began to buzz with a whirlwind of emotions.

You were embarrassed beyond belief…and yet, you couldn’t help but feel the intoxication of pure lust coursing through you. Your blood ran cold when you saw your very own Captain in the same room: his stormy, sea green eyes piercing into you as he gave a wry grin. You felt dizzy as you tried to brace yourself against the lockers, clenching your legs together. Ghost chuckled as he slid his hand beneath your chin, tilting it up so you could meet his gaze.

“You sure it was an accident? Cause the way you're shifting your cute little thighs together tells me otherwise,” he muttered, his hot breath fanning over your neck. A small moan left your lips as his lips raked across your skin. He looked back up at you, his mahogany eyes dripping with pure desire. “Tell us what you want, love,” Ghost murmured, his hands falling to delicately brush over your hips.

Us?

Your eyes were as wide as saucers as you looked around the room. All of the 141's cock’s seemed to twitch and throb to life. Your mouth nearly snapped open when you saw a towering man, who you assumed to be König, pawing at his massive length. Was this really happening? You whined when Ghost peppered your neck with open mouth kisses. A rush of heat struck through your core as he suckled over your pulse, then licked across the blooming hickey. You swallowed thickly before parting your lips.

“I-I want you…all of you,” you squealed when Ghost suckled another hickey onto your neck. He parted from your neck and nipped at the shell of your ear. Your body trembled at the prospect of having every one of your holes stretched and pumped full of cum while you jerked two other men off with your smaller hands. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as Ghost sank his teeth into your neck. You gasped as he flattened his tongue over the throbbing bite mark.

“Gonna take our sweet time with you-right lads?” he rumbled before kissing up your jaw. You heard the men grunt in agreement, their voices falling onto your ears like a melody. You felt lost in your own emotions as they tumbled and crashed together. You squeezed your legs even tighter as Ghost pulled his head up and gave you a soft smile. Your heart cracked at the sight-you were so used to seeing his macabre visage that his expressions seemed lost to you.

“Can’t wait to see how good that pussy feels,” he said before stealing a slow, tender kiss from your lips. The distinguished sound of a door locking felt numb to your ears as the taste of your lieutenant flooded your mouth. It was slightly minty with a hint of tobacco, the flavors blending together as both of you slung your tongues together. You sighed into the kiss as his hands worked to peel your towel off of your trembling body. You felt goosebumps bloom across your body as the fabric fell to the floor.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” Ghost breathed, admiring your body. You blushed furiously before he dove back in, his hands gently massaging your hips. Your eyes shot open when another rugged body came up behind you and sandwiched you together. You turned to see Soap beaming at you with his usual, cheeky grin.

“Mind if I have the first go?” he whispered as he licked your jawline. You keened at the feeling of his hot member twitching against your ass.

“P-Please,” you sighed while nodding your head. Ghost remained still for a moment, though decided to step back, admiring the view before him as he gripped his own girthy cock. A deep rumble rose from Soap’s chest as his hands slowly came up your sides. You gasped as they landed on your breasts.

“So fuckin’ soft,” he murmured. You felt arousal start to leak between your legs as he slowly tweaked your sensitive nipples between his rough fingers. You arched your back, pushing your butt further into his hips. The movement caused his dick to slip between your thighs, his head just barely poking out from the front of them.

“Please, Johnny,” you mewled. Soap moaned at the sound of his real name as his hands spread over your tits. You went to spread your legs. A whimper left you as you felt him harshly squeeze your breasts.

“Keep your legs together,” Soap ordered with a husky growl. You nodded before throwing your head back, letting it fall on his sturdy shoulder. Soap pressed kisses up your neck as he began to slowly push and pull his cock between your thighs. He groaned as your cunt coated his thick length with your juices.

“Mm, that’s it,” the man groaned as he kneaded your breasts. Your mind became more fuzzy as he added another bite mark to your shoulder. “That’s my good lass,” he lilted. You felt your walls clench as the head of his cock continuously breached through your slick folds. Soap grunted as his thumbs flicked your hard nipples, his hot mouth enveloped over your shoulder in a wet kiss.

“Christ, Soap-hurry up,” Gaz whined. You gazed up at the man with half-lidded eyes. Gaz stared at you with a similar expression, his nostrils flaring as he squeezed his leaking dick in his hand. Your eyes squeezed shut when Soap’s hand fell down and began to rub meticulous circles around your swollen nub.

“Ah, don’t stop,” you whined. Your knees buckled when you felt Soap pinch your clit. He wrapped his arm around your torso, pressing your back flush against his broad chest. You felt like you were being rocked by an ocean of bliss as he started to buck into you at a hungry pace.

“‘M not gonna stop-not when you feel this fuckin’ good,” Soap groaned. The sound of your slick movements stoked the fire growing in the pit of your belly. You mewled as Soap drew faster circles around your clit. “C’mon-cum with me, bonnie,” he moaned with a sharp snap of his hips. You gasped as the cord inside of you snapped violently. You arched your back as a white-hot wave of ecstasy washed over you.

The feeling of Soap’s cock twitching beneath you only prolonged your blissful contractions. He coated your thighs with rope after rope of his cum, the warmth dribbling down to your knees as you writhed in pleasure. Soap kissed your cheek as his cock began to soften between your legs. You panted as your high dissipated.

“Look so cute when you cum over my cock, hen,” Soap praised as he still held you close. He kissed your temple before slowly backing away from you, his hands protectively placed on your hips. You stared into his deep blue eyes before you felt a new pair of warm hands . You gazed behind you, meeting a pair of chocolate brown eyes.

“‘Scuse me, love,” Gaz gave a wry grin as he laid himself down on the hard surface. You mirrored his expression as you sat on top of him, angling yourself to take his cock. He clicked his tongue.

“Not quite what I had in mind,” Gaz said as he grabbed your hips. You gasped as he spun you around, your dripping cunt hovering just above his mouth. Your eyes grew wide at the sight of his thick cock twitching right in front of your face. Your breath stuttered as you heard Gaz smack his lips, his hot breath cascaded over your folds.

“H-Holy shit,” you whispered. Your hands flew up to brace Gaz’s thighs as he slipped his mouth over your cunt. You moaned, a jolt of electricity shooting through your core. You took several deep breaths as he moved his tongue back and forth, writing out his name across your slit. You took a few deep breaths before slowly sinking your mouth around his shaft.

Gaz groaned as he swiped at your folds while you bobbed your head up and down his length. He was thicker than you imagined-his girth stretching out your jaw more than any other man you’ve been with. The taste of his salty-bitter precum danced over your tongue as you swirled your wet muscle around his head each time you came back up.

“Yeah, that’s it baby,” he murmured into your pussy before taking your clit between his lips. Your hands clenched around his thighs as he swirled his tongue around the sensitive nub.

“Gaz, fuck,” you whined, a string of saliva connecting your lips to the head of his cock. The sergeant chuckled before thrusting his tongue inside of your quivering hole. You sucked in a sharp breath through your nose before angling your head to take him in deeper, his tip hitting the back of your throat.

Both of you moaned and panted as you ate each other like starved wolves. The vibrations from Gaz’s voice sent ripples of arousal straight into your core. You released a breathy sigh around his dick as he slipped his tongue out and slid one of his digits inside of you. You shifted your hips over Gaz’s face as he stroked you tenderly, his finger reaching and caressing your g-spot. You heard him emit a low growl as his cock twitched inside of your wet cavern.

You moaned his name as he gave a harsh suck to your clit, your second high tearing you in half. Your whole body grew tense as his cock was lodged deep in your throat. You gasped as you felt something warm spill into your mouth, his cum draining down your esophagus. His brows furrowed as your walls clenched around his finger, sucking him in eagerly.

As your high began to fade, you slowly pulled your lips off of his length. You made sure to keep your lips tightly wound together, carefully holding his seed inside your mouth. He smoothed his hands over your hips, raising them before he gasped out for air. It made you wonder if he wanted to suffocate as he devoured your cunt. The thought made a small shiver course through you.

“Fuck me, (Y/N). That was incredible,” Gaz gasped between heavy breaths. You smiled sheepishly before turning so he could see your slightly swollen cheeks. His lips parted as you audibly swallowed his cum. You grinned as you stuck out your tongue. No trace of white was left. “Bloody hell,” he shuddered.

You smiled as the man guided you to rest on his chest. You closed your eyes and caught your breath, the afterglow of your orgasm warming you from head to toe. Just as you felt your heart rate steady, a shadow crossed over you. You cracked an eye open to see your Captain looming above you, his thick hand pumping at his red-hot length.

“Believe I should’ve gone first-bein’ your Captain and all,” Price muttered. Gaz huffed as he helped you off of him, guiding you to sit up while he slid off the bench. You gazed up at Price with the biggest doe-eyes you could pull, though it seemed futile when you were shoved onto your stomach. You winced as his calloused hands kneaded at the flesh of your hips. You turned your head slightly to see your Captain leaning on the bench with one knee, his other leg balancing himself on the tiled floor. He raised a thick brow as he continued to jerk himself off.

“Think you should be disciplined, Sergeant. You’ve walked into the men’s locker room like a naughty girl,” Price grunted. You cried out as he laid a smack against your ass. He groaned as he watched it jiggle, a red mark staining your bum. You felt your heart race when he grabbed your asscheeks in his hands, spreading them apart.

The man shoved two of his fingers into his mouth before releasing them with a wet “pop”. You moaned as he circled your puckering asshole with his digits. Your hands flew in front of you to grab the edges of the bench as he moved to massage your ass with one hand, the other slowly dipping into your hole.

“Say it-say what a naughty girl you’ve been,” Price commanded as he pumped his fingers into you. You gurgled incoherently, your mind intoxicated from two mind-shattering orgasms and the feeling of him stretching your hole wide open. You lunged forward as he smacked your bum again, this time leaving another red mark.

“I-I’m a naughty girl,” you keened, shaking your ass as he thrusted his digits inside with a sudden squelch. “A-And I need to be disciplined,” you batted your lashes. Price growled before curling his fingers inside of you.

“Damn right, you do,” he huffed with a small smirk. You jolted forward as he suddenly shoved his length into your asshole, molding your insides the shape of his cock. Your mouth snapped into a tight “o” as you felt yourself being stretched out by your Captain, inch by delicious inch.

“So fuckin’ tight-Christ,” he grunted as his hips became flush with your raw ass. You moaned at the tightness before he slid himself out, leaving his head inside. Your fingers curled around the bench as he pistoned into you, his hands bruisingly gripping your waist. “Love how your hole stretches around me,” Price rumbled. You felt tears prick at your eyes, the sensations overwhelming you from head to toe. You yelped as he laid another slap to your ass.

“Fuck-I want to see you, love-but this arse just feels too fuckin’ good,” he hissed between gritted teeth. You arched your back as he grabbed your hair, pulling on it while he shoved a few fingers into your mouth. You instinctively suckled on them, tasting the saltiness of his sweat. You jolted when his other hand laid a sudden smack to your cunt, your slick spraying across his hand.

“I’m so close,” he grunted. Your head rolled to the side as your third orgasm washed over you, sending a shockwave through your core. Price growled as he slammed his hips into you. Your entire body lit on fire as he filled up your insides. It was an entirely new sensation-though it was one you could certainly get used to. He patted your thighs before slipping off of you, his rough palms lingering on your waist. Your limbs felt like they were full of lead as you tried to stand up, only to remain prone on the bench.

“Steamin’ Jesus, Price-I think you broke her,” Soap gaped. You blinked lazily before being pulled into two strong arms. You looked up to see an unfamiliar face above you. You gave a small smile as you recognized the pair of icy blue eyes that gazed down at you softly. The tip of a water bottle was pressed to your lips and you greedily slurped up the cold liquid.

“Ah, the little Maus just needed a break,” König cooed. You tapped his wrist, letting him know you were done with your drink. You smacked your lips when he pulled it away from you. You sighed and nuzzled your face into his rugged stomach as he gently rocked you in his arms, your naked body resting on his sturdy lap. His hand caressed your red cheek as he leaned down, kissing your forehead.

“Do you think you can handle any more, Schatz?” the Austrian murmured. You stared at him, eyes half-lidded and body shaking with overstimulation.

“Y-Yes,” you rasped out. König’s brows knitted together.

“If you’re feeling too tired, we don’t have-” He gasped when you straddled his hips, legs clumsily wrapping around his back. He moaned as you kissed him deeply, your pussy lips gliding over his massive length.

“I want to,” you said resolutely. König beamed before pressing his forehead to yours.

“Turn around for me then, Kätzchen,” he commanded gently with a pat on your waist. You smiled as you spun around, making sure to rake your ass against his abs. You could feel the rumble in his chest as you spread your limp legs over his. He muttered sweet phrases in German as he slipped his hand down towards your heat. You shivered against him as he spread your labia apart with his thick fingers. Your cunt was a mess of slick and cum that dribbled down from your asshole. He groaned as he felt around your puffy folds and swollen clit.

“Gonna take it nice and slow, ja?” König soothed. You nodded and relaxed as he slipped a finger into your hole. You gasped at how just one finger filled you up, your walls mush around the ridges of his digit. König grunted as he began to slowly pump his finger inside of you, his other hand massaging your bundle of nerves. You moaned as he played with your pussy, his movements calm and gentle. You gasped when the pad of his finger brushed against your g-spot. “Are you alright, Kätzchen?” he asked. You nodded, curling your hands around his wrists.

“Yes-you feel so good, Kö. Making me feel so good,” you praised. König grinned before he added another finger into your cunt, stretching you out wonderfully. His movements grew a bit faster as his thumb flicked and stroked at your clit. You gasped when his fingers were replaced with his cock. Your eyes nearly crossed as you felt his immensely thick shaft split you down the middle.

“Meine,” was all he could rasp out before he gently bucked into your heat. You moaned when you saw his head bulge beneath your stomach. You could feel your body melting in his touch. He continued to swirl his finger around your nub as he bounced you on his cock, his voice cracking with every moan and pant that left him. Despite his gargantuan size, he was handling you like you were made of porcelain. Your eyes glazed over as you felt yourself tense again. König whined as your walls constricted around him.

“König-I’m gonna cum,” you mewled. He rumbled before pistoning his hips up into your heat.

“Fuck-me too,” he gasped out. Both of you moaned at the same time as your walls contracted around him. He stilled inside you, your cunt milking his cock dry. You whined as you felt his cum gush out of your pussy, flooding his lap. The rush of liquid never seemed to end as he slowly pulled you off his length. He peppered your face with soft kisses before giving you another sip of water.

“You did so well for me, meine Schatz,” he praised while stroking your cheek with his thumb. You smiled at him sleepily before he receded back. You glanced above you to find Ghost standing tensely, his cock cherry red and ready to burst. He grabbed a towel lying on the floor and helped you up. You sighed as you were laid back down on the soft fabric, his palms stroking over your shaking legs.

“How you feelin’, lovie?” Ghost asked softly. You felt your voice die in your throat as he gazed at you with his gentle, brown eyes. Eyes you’ve seen full of a quiet rage countless times in combat.

“I think…I can do one more,” you puffed out. Ghost hummed as he adjusted his hips.

“Atta girl,” he praised. You smiled up at him as he slid his cock inside, pushing some of König’s cum out of your hole. You melted as he thrusted into you, gently massaging your tender breasts. “Been wantin’ you for so long-fuck-you feel better than I could ever imagine,” Ghost grunted. You bit your lip, taking in slow, deep breaths as he bottomed out inside of you.

Your limbs felt like putty in his hands as he raised one of your legs to fall over his shoulder. Both of you locked eyes and you nodded. He exhaled through his nose as he pumped his cock through your plush walls. You could feel your mind starting to grow fuzzy as he rocked his hips into you.

“Simon,” you murmured. Ghost’s hips stuttered as his name softly fell from your swollen lips. His movements became a little more hungry, his balls slapping against your cum-coated ass as he snapped his hips.

“So perfect f’me,” he groaned. You barely had time to brace yourself before your fifth orgasm shook you to your core, electricity trickling down to your fingers and toes.

“Christ, how many is that? Five?” he groaned. You nodded your head, letting your eyes close as you were rocked by his strong thrusts. Ghost rumbled as he crashed his lips onto yours. The sound of your sloppy, cum-filled cunt fluttering around his dick made your mind completely melt. “You’ve taken all so well, love,” Ghost praised as he bullied his cock into your hole. Your brows knitted together as he kissed you again.

“Gonna fill this pussy up, stuff you with my cum,” he moaned as his balls twitched against your folds. “You’d like that, love?” Ghost huffed. You nodded.

“Please, please fucking fill me,” you gasped. He chuckled as he sped up his thrusts, the sound of your skin slapping against his echoing throughout the tiled space. You moaned and raked your nails down his shoulders as he slammed his cock into you, stilling inside and shooting his load into your tight hole. Your jaw went slack as you felt your pussy warm, only to feel exhaustion wash over you once more.

“(Y/N)? Are you with me?” Ghost’s muffled voice called. You only managed to make a small mumbling noise before sleep finally overtook you.

+++

You gasped as you shot up beneath a cozy comforter. You looked down, seeing you were wearing a fresh pair of clothes. Your hair was still wet and smelled of shampoo. Your eyes scanned the dark room. You finally recognized that you were back in your quarters when your vision adjusted. You puffed out a breath of air as you sank your head down onto your pillow.

Was all of that just a dream?

Your face turned a deep shade of red at the many lewd acts that transpired. You yawned before shifting in your bed, gasping when you felt a dull ache blooming in all of your holes.

____

Thank you for reading! ❤️

2K notes · View notes

thatweeboverthereisthirsty · 1 month

Note

Jade & Lilia reacting to their fem s/o that vapes/smokes 👀

Part 4 of S/O Who Vapes/Smokes

(Azul, Jade, Jamil, Lilia)

A/N: ironically I started this before I tried vaping and now I'm trying to quit 😅 (20 days sober lol)

The sheer surprise Azul experiences by seeing a cigarette set casually in your fingers is unexplainable by his standards

Smoke billowed from your parted lips and he let out a small squeak of shock

You turned towards your boyfriend and felt your cheeks flush in embarrassment

“A-Azul! When did you get here?”

“Just in time to see you engaging in a disgusting habit.”

Shame flooded your system and you scowled

In anger you took another long draw and you felt his gaze burn into you

He scowls and marches over to you

You pull back and look at him with defiance but startle when his gaze softens a bit

“Y/N” he started cautiously, “You know I love you and support you no matter what you do, right?”

You nod hesitantly and he continues “But I also want what is best for you and I might come from the sea but I do know a thing or two about stuff that hurts humans.”

It was hard to look him in the eye as he said that and you busied yourself snuffing out the cigarette

“I love you, Angel but this isn’t good for you and you know it.”

“I know but I can’t help it. Azul it helps, it really does.”

He sighs and sits down next to you, his nose wrinkling at the smell of your after smoke.

“There are people who can help… I can look into some resources for you?” he asks careful not to upset you

For a moment you sit in tense silence before finally turning towards him with sad eyes

“Can I try to quit on my own first?”

He smiles and nods at you before kissing you briefly even though you know the smell and taste bothers him

“Of course Angel. I’m with you every step of the way.”

You’ve only been vaping for about a month but you could tell you were already addicted to it

The flavor, the feeling, the smell, the buzz, all of it was more addicting than anything you’ve ever experienced

The problem you had now was that your boyfriend just caught you taking a hit and you were suddenly regretting all of it

Jade was quiet for a moment, standing in your dorm room doorway stiffly

As if he snapped out of a trance he stepped into your room and closed the door behind him as he set his bag down

“So, how was your day?”

You cringed inwardly and looked down at your vape which you still held like it was a lifeline that could save you from this conversation

“Jade…”

“My day was good, Floyd tried to beat up a student and Azul wants me back early tonight to test out a new recipe before he opens the lounge”

His eyes met yours and you saw cold indifference in them

It hurt your heart to see him like this after you spent so long trying to get to the softer side of him which he rarely let anyone see, not even Floyd had been given that privilege since they were kids

“Jade!”

He raised an eyebrow and sighed dramatically as he sat on your bed

“Listen little Coral, I don’t care what you do or don’t do with your life but I do know that there are other ways to handle your problems.”

You bit your lip, feeling like a scolded child

“You will get through this and next time you feel the urge to bring that nasty device to your precious lips, come to me and I will distract them with a much more therapeutic activity.”

You blushed wildly and gawked up at him

“Now about that test you have tomorrow” he said with a smirk

You scowled at the thought of the impending doom that loomed over you then grinned as an idea struck you

“You know Jade, I’m kinda feeling like vaping right now. Maybe I could take you up on that offer?”

Needless to say, you didn’t get much studying done

It’s late when Jamil finds you smoking off the balcony at Scarabia

Kalim had invited you to stay the night after another one of his parties and you agreed knowing it would make the childish dorm leader happy

You didn’t expect that anyone else would be up this late so when you heard a shocked gasp you startled

Jamil had been on his way to the kitchen to make some tea for Kalim who was having trouble sleeping but strayed from his original task to take the cigarette from your hand

“What are you doing?!”

You rolled your eyes as if you were annoyed even though you just didn’t want to see the disappointment in his gaze

He waits patiently for a response but when it’s clear he isn’t going to get one he sighs

He takes your hand gently and pulls you towards him into a hug

“I know that you can’t help it if you are addicted but if you aren’t yet please stop. I love your voice and I love you, I can’t imagine not having either one day because of this.”

You look up at him with shameful tears in your eyes and he frowns as he wipes them gently

“I’m sorry Jamil.”

“I know, and I’m sorry you feel like you have to do this.”

The two of you talk for hours into the night about how he can help you and eventually you fall asleep in his arms

Lilia has seen and tried just about everything there is to try so when he sees you with a mysterious device in your mouth he is confused

You pull the vape device from your lips and he watches as white vapor follows it

As he gets closer he notes that it smells like the fruity scent you usually have

He had assumed it was some kind of perfume but he supposes it probably comes from your peculiar vapor device

That's when it hits him- the smell of nicotine hidden under sickly flavoring

Any normal human wouldn’t be able to scent something so subtle but to him it’s as if you had bathed in the stuff

“Love?” he appears next to you suddenly

Months ago that would have scared you but now you found it endearing

“Lilia!” you exclaim, slipping your vape into your pocket in what you hoped was a natural and unnoticeable way

He raised an eyebrow and summoned the vape to his hand and held it in front of you

“What is this odd device?” he asks in his rare serious tone

Sighing you explain to him that it is a modern way of smoking and that it is healthier than cigarettes so it is ok to do

He frowns through your explanation

“First, nothing that contains addictive non-prescription substances could ever be healthy in any way, second I can smell the chemicals that are no doubt doing damage to your lungs as we speak.”

Maybe he was being a little dramatic but he knew how sensitive humans were to these things and he would do anything to keep his human healthy and safe

You look at the ground while he speaks and he sighs in frustration

He doesn’t want you to feel scolded or ashamed, he just gets nervous about your health

“We will figure it out ok love? For now can you try not to do it as often?”

You nod and he kisses you soundly, Lilia will do anything for his human and he vows to find an alternative to your vaping device that allows you to feel secure in yourself and him to feel secure in your health

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #jamil x reader #azul x reader #jade x reader #lilia x reader

230 notes · View notes

suguwu · 14 days

Text

MOON EATER I TWO

"But truly, Master Diluc—why am I here?"

"I would wed you," he says, flexing his hands in his lap. "If you are amenable to it."

minors and ageless blogs do not interact.

masterlist

pairing: diluc ragnvindr x f!reader

notes: hopefully this posts bc dividers are giving me trouble but mostly i hope you enjoy!

content: marriage of convenience, politics, some manipulation, pining, jealousy, some blood and gore.

wc: 5k

You take the Ragnvindr name on a mild autumn day.

It’s a simple thing, Diluc thinks. Two signatures side by side, yours jagged like a cliff face, his flowing like a peaceful river current. He watches the ink sink into the paper as Jean clears her throat.

He glances up at his old friend; her eyes—the gentle blue of the early morning sky—soften. He stiffens. Jean has always worn her heart on her sleeve and now, the smile that curves her lips is a dandelion thing, delicate and fleeting. There’s something melancholic to it.

“Congratulations,” she says, quiet but firm. “May the breeze bring its blessings to your union.”

The wind curls in through the window, catching against the marriage certificate, the edges of it fluttering in the sudden puff of air. The breeze swirls through the office, tugging at your simple dress with cheeky fingers, sending your earrings dancing. You laugh, free and delighted, and Diluc’s chest tightens.

(Your little sailboat spun around in the current, small enough that the water churned around it like a storm-struck sea.

“I’ll get it!” Diluc called as he rolled his pant legs up, exposing skin as pale as the moon, dusted with freckles, cinnamon on top of cream. He waded into the river before you could protest. The water was cold, eddying around his legs, and he grunted as he reached for the toy. It drifted away from his grasping fingertips like a crystalfly rising to the sky, just out of reach. He reached out further, stretching as far as he could over the deeper water, where the current grew teeth. He grit his teeth as the boat bobbed along, buffeted on all sides by the rippling water. He stretched further, rising to the tip of his toes, a stubborn ballerina.

“Be careful!” Kaeya called from the shore.

Diluc startled. He tumbled into the deeper water, yelping as it swallowed him in its frostbitten mouth. The current spun around him, sinking its teeth into him, but he sputtered his way to the surface. It tugged at him as he treaded water. Diluc spat his soaked hair out of his mouth as he looked for your boat, but it was long gone.

Kaeya and you met him in the shallows. Diluc stood, grimacing as his clothes suckered to him, still heavy with cold water.

“Are you okay?” Kaeya asked.

“Yeah,” Diluc said. He looked at you. “Sorry about your boat.”

You stared at him for a moment, eyes wide. Then you laughed, loud and echoing, as bright as the sunlight reflecting off the river’s surface. Diluc’s heart fluttered against his ribcage.

“You’re an idiot,” you said, but there was almost something fond in your voice. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Diluc beamed.)

The wind dances around Jean’s office for a moment more. It undulates around you, ruffling the pristine cecilia pinned sweetly into your hair, and your laugh billows out like campfire smoke once more. The breeze plays over Diluc’s neck, tugging at the crimson strands of his hair, making them dance like flames.

Finally, the breeze dies out, but only after it makes the marriage certificate flutter once more.

“Well, well,” Lisa purrs from her place beside Jean, gazing out from beneath the rim of her hat with a bemused expression. “A blessed union indeed.”

“You think so?” you ask, and you’re back to that rosebud smile.

Lisa nods. “Of course, cutie. With that timing? There’s hardly anything else it could be.”

Diluc meets Jean’s wide eyes. He thinks of fish mouthing along the top of a pond, but the expression is quickly gone as Jean gathers herself.

“Well,” you say, glancing over to Diluc, your eyes shining, reflecting his own image back at him. Your ability to be unreadable has plagued Diluc over these last few months; he supposes he shouldn’t be surprised you give nothing away now. “An auspicious start to our union, husband.”

“Yes,” he says, unable to conjure up any other words, too caught on being called husband by you.

Lisa chuckles before reaching out for the certificate. She signs as a witness with a flourish, even though her handwriting is atrocious. Jean takes it next; her signature is looping and beautiful, curling like sweet pea tendrils.

You tilt your head. “Is there anything else needed?” you ask Jean.

“No,” she says, handing off the certificate to the Knight’s clerk that has just appeared at the ring of a bell. “You’re legally married. Congratulations again.”

“Thank you,” you say. “You’ll be at the party, yes?”

Jean nods.

“Wonderful,” you say. “We’ll see you then.”

“Actually,” Jean says, “I was hoping to speak to Sir Diluc for a moment.”

He blinks.

“Of course,” you say, before murmuring a goodbye. You sweep out of the office, brushing past Diluc as you do. He breathes in and the scent of you fills his lungs, with the sweet addition of the cecilia’s pollen. The door closes behind you.

“What is it?” he asks Jean roughly.

“Sir—”

“I’m not a knight anymore.”

She flushes, the apples of her cheeks pinkening like ripening strawberries. The air goes ozone heavy, the breath before a lightning strike. He glances at Lisa; she smiles sweetly despite the static electricity crackling around her. Jean lays a hand on her shoulder.

“Of course,” Jean says to Diluc as the ozone starts to fade away. “My apologies, Master Diluc.”

“What is it?”

She coughs. “I understand that you don’t like the Knights, Master Diluc, but it’s important that they’re present at your wedding celebration.”

He stiffens. “Why?”

“There will be several diplomats attending, including representatives of the Qixing,” she says, looking mournful. “The Knights will need to be present as a protective measure.”

“My staff are—”

“Not Knights of Favonius,” Lisa says. Diluc frowns at her; she flashes her teeth in a lazy smile. “It needs to be the Ordo, not civilians.”

“Won’t the Qixing have their own people?”

“Yes. But the Knights will need to provide an escort anyway.”

Diluc grits his teeth.

“Master Diluc,” Jean says, far too gently. “It is only for a night.”

He bristles. “One night is one too many,” he snaps.

Jean’s face hardens. “This is a matter of national importance. It is not a suggestion, Master Diluc. There will be Knights present as security at your wedding celebration.”

(The blood on his face was still hot.

It dripped down his cheek, but Diluc paid it no mind. He reached out with a shaking hand to his father, his body propped up against the carriage like a broken puppet. The gash on his father’s side was deep enough that Diluc could see the white glint of bone, like teeth in the crimson mouth of the wound.

“Father,” he gasped.

His father grabbed his wrist as he reached for the wound to put pressure on it. “Diluc,” he wheezed, his rich voice breaking over the syllables. “Please.”

Something opened in Diluc’s chest; it poured, and poured, and poured.

He knew what he had to do.)

Leather creaks as he clenches his hand into a fist at his side. Jean’s eyes dart to it, but she stays firm, her lips set into a thin line. In this moment, he realizes she looks every inch the Grand Master, with her head held high and her blue eyes burning like a comet through the sky.

“I’m sorry, Master Diluc,” she says. “We cannot budge on this. And your wife has agreed.”

“Fine,” he snaps. “But only for the celebration, not before or after.”

Lisa opens her mouth, but Jean holds out a staying hand. “Very well,” she acquiesces.

“Is that all?”

“Yes, Master Diluc,” Jean says, her voice soft and a little bit sad. “That’s all.”

He strides from the room without a goodbye. The door clicks shut behind him, the guard outside it coming to attention. Diluc pays no attention to him, heading towards the exit.

He’s almost to it when he realizes there’s no sign of you. He halts, glancing around with a furrowed brow. There’s not even a hint of your scent to guide his way. He closes his eyes for a second, resigned to his fate, but before he can ask the guard if he’s seen where you went—

“My, my,” a velvet voice purrs out. “Lost your new wife already, Master Diluc? Impressive.”

He sighs. He turns around to face Kaeya, meeting his pale lilac eye with a scowl. The other man smiles, an indolent curve of his lips, a fat cat lounging in a golden patch of sunlight.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Kaeya asks, raising a perfect brow. “I’ve barely said anything.”

“Good. Let’s keep it that way.”

Kaeya laughs. “I’ll keep your wife’s message to myself, then, shall I?”

“Didn’t know you were a delivery boy now.”

Kaeya’s eye crinkles with his smile. “I made an exception for her.”

Diluc takes a deep breath and ignores that. “What’s the message?”

“Oh? I can talk now?”

“Sir Kaeya.”

The knight hums. “She’s at Good Hunter. She says you should join her for lunch. And surely you won’t keep a lady waiting, will you?”

Diluc turns on his heel. Behind him, Kaeya laughs, an airy puff of sound.

“You’re welcome!”

Diluc ignores him and makes his way to Good Hunter. Most of the townspeople leave him be as he strides through town. He takes the long way around, trying to give himself time to shake off the remnants of his conversation with Jean. He comes to Good Hunter from the opposite side, and he catches sight of you from the terrace above the little plaza. You’re chatting with Sara, a small smile on your lips. He pauses to watch you for a moment. The afternoon sun is casting shadows around the plaza, but it haloes you, burnishes you gold.

Sara laughs, barely audible over the hubbub of the plaza. Your smile quirks at the edges, picking up on her joy, and Diluc thinks of how the moon has no light of its own, that it only reflects what it’s given.

As if sensing his gaze, you glance towards him. You wave, elegant and sure, and Diluc nods back to you before he realizes that the two Fatui stationed just beside the terrace are waving back. He grits his teeth. He stalks past them on his way to the stairs; they quail before the scowl he knows is carved into his face.

By the time he reaches you and Sara, though, he’s managed to calm himself. He comes up beside you and tries to ignore the soft heat of you.

“Master Diluc,” Sara says. “We were just discussing some menu possibilities for your reception.”

Diluc raises a brow. “I thought Adelinde was taking care of the preparations?”

“She is,” you say smoothly. “I told her I’d bring some of her notes to Sara when we went into town today.”

“I see.”

“Is that all you need?” Sara asks.

“Actually, I was thinking we would get lunch here. What do you think?” you ask, turning to Diluc with a little smile.

“I had intended to go to the Angel’s Share to check in,” he says.

“Oh,” you say. “Let’s get something to bring there, then.”

Diluc sighs. He wonders briefly if Adelinde had put you up to this—she’s always vexed by how often he forgets to eat while he is working.

“Very well,” he says. “Sara, we’ll have an order to go.”

She nods and takes your order. As she steps away to prepare it, you and Diluc step to the side as well. The two of you are quiet for a few long moments. Diluc tugs on his glove, fixing the way it sits on his wrist, the buttery leather sliding back into place.

“I had hoped to return to the winery by midafternoon,” you say. “Will your work be finished by then?”

“You don’t need to wait for me,” he says. “I can take a horse if you wish to take the carriage.”

You blink slowly, a gentle sweep of your eyelashes. They catch the sunlight, the fan of them casting sweet shadows on the top of your cheeks. “I don’t mind waiting for you.”

“Oh.”

You smile, a slow bloom of your lips. “Besides,” you say, “I should think it would be interesting to see exactly how Master Diluc runs his tavern. I’ve heard you bartend. And that you’re good at it.”

He can feel the tips of his ears start to heat. “I do bartend on occasion.”

“You’ll have to make me a drink sometime.”

“As you wish.”

Sara calls out for you then, her voice a sharp, bright chirp that cuts through all the plaza’s noise. You hum, stepping back to the counter. Diluc follows you quickly, pulling a pouch of mora free from his belt. He reaches around you to hand it to Sara.

“Thank you, Master Diluc,” she says, sounding amused. She starts to count out his change as you whip around to look at him.

“I could have paid,” you say, nose scrunching up the smallest bit.

(“Don’t do that,” you said, nose scrunched up into something crinkled and ugly as you batted Diluc’s hand away.

“Sorry,” he said softly, drooping like a wilting flower. You glanced up at him. Sighed.

“Just sit,” you said. “You can watch.”

“Okay!”

Diluc plopped down beside you. You were pressed shoulder to shoulder; you were a long line of cool skin against the pyro-enhanced heat of him. He leaned into you to better see what you were doing and grinned when you didn’t pull away.)

“I’m aware.”

You examine him for a moment before shaking your head. “Thank you,” you say to him. “I suppose.”

Diluc accepts his change from Sara, leaving a hefty tip, and then hoists the basket of packaged food onto one arm. Tentatively, he offers the other to you; you tuck your hand into the crook of his elbow without hesitation. He catches himself before he makes a sound.

The walk to Angel’s Share is quiet. You return any greetings you receive, but you don’t stop, allowing Diluc to continue leading you. He’s deeply aware of your hand on him; it feels as if you’ve sunk beneath his skin, singed a mark into his bones. You give a little squeeze that makes his breath stutter. He walks a little faster, but you don’t seem to notice, matching his pace unconsciously.

“Morning, sir,” Charles says as the two of you slip inside Angel’s Share. He pauses for a moment as he takes in your presence. “Miss.”

“Good morning, Charles,” Diluc says as he locks the door behind him; he’s long learned that people will try to come in no matter the posted hours. “How is set up going?”

“Business as usual, sir. Is there something I can do for you? Wasn’t expecting you today. Didn’t realize you were in town.”

Diluc clears his throat. “We had an errand to run,” he says. “I thought I’d take a look at the books while I was here. I’ll—we’ll be in the office.”

“‘Course.”

Diluc starts to head towards the office. You follow him after a moment, calling out a quiet goodbye to Charles. The door to the office sticks a bit; as always, Diluc makes a note to get it fixed. You watch him force it open with a little smile on your lips, but you don’t say a word. He watches you take in the small, meticulously organized office before you cross the threshold and settle in one of the chairs before the desk. Somehow, you make it look like a throne.

He sets the basket of food on the desk, careful to avoid the few papers lying on it. “I’ll get some utensils,” he says.

You nod. He stands there for a moment, unsure if he should say anything else, but you’re starting to unpack the basket, carefully moving the papers to the side. He steps out of the room and blows out a quiet breath. It takes him a moment to realize that he’s rubbing at the crook of his elbow, where your hand had rested.

When he comes back to the office, you’re settled in the chair, the basket fully unpacked. You’re pursuing one of the books that had been stacked in the corner, your brow crinkled as you read. You glance up as he steps through the door and smile. It’s that rosebud smile of yours. Something in Diluc aches, deep in his bones.

(Kaeya’s smile was tentative as you tugged him along, your fingers laced together. Diluc frowned at the sight, running up to meet the two of you.

“Where have you been?” he demanded.

“We just went to the sandbearer tree, Luc,” Kaeya said, his violet eye wide.

“You didn’t wait for me!”

“You were taking too long,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “And we’re back now, aren’t we?”

“I guess,” Diluc said, kicking at the dirt of the courtyard. “Did you climb it?”

“Yeah!” Kaeya chirped. “We went really high, too!”

Diluc frowned, his brow thunderous. “I wanted to climb too.”

“Okay,” you said. “Let’s go, then.”

Diluc perked up. “Really?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Great!”

You smiled at him, as sharp and golden as the amber mountains of Liyue, and his heart pounded.)

You tilt your head in question. Diluc shakes himself out of the cobwebs of memory and steps closer.

“Shall we eat?” you ask.

“Yes,” he says, rougher than he means to be. “Let’s.”

You smile, flower petals yet unfolded.

He wonders if he’ll ever see you smile for real again.

—

This is, Diluc decides, worse than any battle with the Abyss has ever been.

Your wedding reception is in full swing, the music rising to the winery’s rafters, carried by the light breeze winding through the open doors. Beyond them, the sunset is pouring across the horizon, dotted with bruised clouds that are limned with orange, a fiery kiss on a painter’s palette. The crowd spills out into the vineyards like wine, pooling together in small groups. Several people are well on their way to drunk, and Diluc watches them with a frown, glad the harvest is already done.

The Knights, of course, are doing nothing. They’re stationed around the vineyard and the winery itself, but most of them are watching the festivities with wistful expressions on their faces. They’d be useless if they were needed. Diluc’s staff, on the other hand, are casually moving through the crowds, light on their feet, their eyes sharp. Someone shifts in the shadows at the top of the stairs; Diluc doesn’t need to look to know it’s Adelinde surveying the winery from above with shrewd jade eyes.

(“Young Master Diluc,” Adelinde said. “Young Master Kaeya.”

Both boys flinched. When they glanced up at her, she was watching with sharp, verdant eyes, the green of them gone to seaglass in the low light, washed out into something softer.

Diluc and Kaeya exchanged a glance. They’d been careful when they sneaked out the balcony door, tired of the never-ending parade of guests, desperate to loosen their starched cuffs. No one was looking their way.

Somehow, Adelinde always knew.

“Hi Adelinde,” Diluc chirped. “We were just getting some air!”

“Right,” Kaeya said, after Diluc jabbed him with an elbow. “It was…stuffy in there…”

Adelinde stared down at them before her stern face softened. “You shouldn’t be out here alone,” she chided.

“Please, Addy?”

She sighed.

“Alright,” she said. “But I’m staying out with you.”

“Okay!”

She melted into the shadows. In time, Diluc forgot she was even there at all.)

Adelinde shifts again, stepping further back in the shadows, her eyes gleaming in the candlelight. Diluc watches, but she moves again, and she’s gone. Even with his discerning eye, if she’s there, he can’t tell.

He refocuses when you touch his hand. It’s a ghost of a thing, a gentle brush of your fingers over the back of his glove, but it scorches through him like a forest fire. He glances at you.

You’re resplendent in the candlelight, your skin aglow and your painted lips curving like the crescent moon. There are cecilias pinned in your hair again, the cream petals dainty as they catch in the breeze, revealing golden stamen tucked between the petals like treasure. He’s sure that if he touched one silken petal, it would bruise under his fingertips.

You wear them like they’re made for you, nature’s finest crown. The breeze ruffles the delicate petals once more, loosening a flower. The bloom threatens to fall, a collapsing ballerina, and Diluc reaches out without thought, pressing it back into place with careful fingers.

“Ah, the sweetness of youth,” someone says, and Diluc jerks back as if burned.

It’s a Liyuen who carries himself with the quiet confidence of someone with influence. He’s older, his hair gone gray as riverstones, but he stands tall. He speaks in Liyuen for a brief moment, the phrase just familiar enough that Diluc can recognize it as a formal greeting.

You smile, your eyes crinkling with it.

“Zhiming,” you say, bowing slightly. “Thank you for coming. I know the journey is long.”

The older man inclines his head. “Not nearly long enough to keep me away from something as important as this.”

You laugh, covering your mouth behind your hand. Your wedding ring flashes in the candlelight. “You’re too kind,” you say. “Diluc, may I introduce Zhiming of the Liyue Qixing? We work together on trade policy.”

Diluc gathers himself at the mention of the Qixing, though he’s very aware that the tips of his ears must be bright red. “A pleasure,” he says, nodding to the older man. “Diluc Ragnvindr. The Dawn Winery is very grateful for our continued partnership with the trading unions.”

The other man eyes him for a moment, his deep brown eyes keen. A hawk’s assessment. Diluc meets his gaze.

“As are we,” Zhiming finally says. “May it continue for many years.”

Diluc nods.

“Are you staying long?” you ask lightly.

“For quite a few days,” he says. “The Knights of Favonius have kindly agreed to provide me an escort around Mondstadt during my stay. Hilichurls have been gathering of late, apparently.”

Diluc can’t help his scoff.

Your smile ripples as Zhiming raises a brow. “Is this news to you?” he asks.

“No,” Diluc says. “My staff works hard to keep the road to the winery clear of them.”

“Not the Knights?”

“The Knights are inefficient at best,” Diluc says. “My staff is much more capable.”

“I see,” Zhiming says thoughtfully. His gaze darts to you for a moment, a lightning strike glance. “How unfortunate.”

“Diluc exaggerates,” you say with a little laugh, resting your hand on Diluc’s forearm. You squeeze and he stiffens. “He simply prefers his staff, since they’re handpicked. Now please, Zhiming, go enjoy yourself. Yumei is here.”

A flush settles onto the older man’s cheeks, darkening them. “Oh. It would be rude to not say hello, wouldn’t it?”

“Very,” you say, a smile curling on your lips. Zhiming dips his head in farewell before disappearing into the crowd.

Your smile shifts as you turn to face Diluc. He finds that you’re once again unreadable, a still, serene pond with murky depths. You lean in close; his heart skips. He can smell the cecilias, can smell the delicate notes of your perfume, the salt of your skin. He catches himself before he sways forward to be even closer.

“What was that about the Knights?” you ask.

“The truth.”

“I understand that you’re upset—”

“You understand nothing.”

You take in a breath. Your eyes gleam in the candlelight, knife-edged. Your mouth tilts, lips thinning into a gash, and Diluc thinks of the way the crab broke beneath your hands all those years ago.

“Your quarrel with the Knights is your own,” you say softly. “I will do nothing to involve myself in it. You may have your opinion of them, and have it freely, but you will never disparage them in front of a foreign guest. Do you understand me?”

Diluc sets his jaw.

“It is hard to have my opinion freely when you constrict it so.”

“Master Diluc—”

“I have a right to speak my mind on the Knights and their poor performance.”

“Do you truly have no thought for their image?”

“If the Knights are so concerned about their image, they should do something about it. Perhaps if they tried being competent—”

“Shut up,” you bite out, and Diluc is so taken aback that he actually does.

You meet his stunned gaze steadily, and suddenly, he is back in the dark of a thick pine forest, the crunch of fresh snow under his boots, the endless, unyielding cold sinking its teeth into his very bones.

He thinks he sees why the Harbinger likes you so much, now. You must remind him of home.

“I would ask that you think of the consequences of saying such a thing,” you say, voice frostbitten, so different from your usual careful tones. “Of what it means to dismiss our country’s protectors in front of a foreign agent.”

That gives Diluc pause. “I—”

“Hadn’t thought that far? Yes, that much is clear to me.”

Someone coughs. Diluc glances up and the grin he sees makes him want to groan. Kaeya tilts his head, his navy hair flowing down his shoulder like the night sky chases the sunset. His smile sharpens into something sly.

“Out of the honeymoon stage so soon? Such a shame,” he says.

Diluc resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “What do you want, Kaeya?”

Kaeya hums. In the candlelight, his lilac eye has darkened to the color of a fresh bruise. It glitters like frost. “Why, nothing from you, Master Diluc.”

Diluc frowns.

Kaeya turns to you. “From the bride, however—a dance?”

He holds out a hand, his long fingers unfurling like petals. He bows too, ever-dramatic; a smile flutters to life on your lips.

“Of course, Sir Kaeya,” you say, placing your hand in his. He curls his fingers around yours delicately and Diluc thinks of trailing ivy, how it swallows everything it touches.

He watches Kaeya lead you through the crowd, artfully spinning you through it, a thread through the needle’s eye. There aren’t many people dancing, but the musicians strike up a tune for the two of you. You murmur something to Kaeya; the man’s smile grows sharp, a fishhook grin. He whirls you away, your skirt flaring like a blossom. The two of you move like silk, rippling and flowing together. You laugh as Kaeya bends you back over his arm.

Diluc looks away.

—

It’s late by the time the reception begins to wind down, the silver moon a lonely mirror hanging high in the velvet sky. Diluc watches from the courtyard as people begin to drift home, laughing their way along the road to Springvale and the city, their joy spiraling to the sky like smoke.

You’re laughing too. He watches as you bid goodbye to a couple in Liyuen clothing, bowing slightly to them as they start down the path. The next group to leave is a group of merry-makers, their cheeks flushed with alcohol and their voices booming. He loses sight of you among them and takes a single step forward before he catches himself.

“I hadn’t thought of you as a worrywart,” Lisa says as she sweeps up beside him. He wrinkles his nose as the scent of the roses she’s wearing woven into her hair reaches him; they’re cloying, the aroma heavy in the air.

“I’m not.”

She laughs. “If you say so.”

He stares out into the vineyard again. The group has moved on, a few laughs coming from them as one of Diluc’s workers corrals them away from the vines and back onto the path. You have apparently had enough, as you’re coming back up to the winery, tugging at your dress to keep the hem off the ground.

(“Maybe we shouldn’t,” Kaeya said as he eyed the path up the mountain. It had churned into a thick, oozing mud with the rain that trapped the three of you inside yesterday. “If we get dirty—”

“It’s just clothing,” you said, already hopping over the worst of the mud.

Diluc hesitated. His father would scold them if they got too dirty. But you glanced back at him, a challenge burning in your gaze, and he scrambled after you.)

“Hi,” you say, a little bit breathless. “Is that everyone?”

“There’s a few more stragglers inside, darling,” Lisa says.

“Including you?” you ask, but you’re smiling.

Lisa’s lips quirk. “Including me. Jean’s helping clean up.”

Diluc frowns. “She doesn’t need to do that—”

“Oh, I know,” Lisa says. “But you know how she gets. I’ll convince her in a few minutes. I just wanted to see Master Diluc carry his bride over the threshold.”

Diluc starts. He glances at Lisa and for the first time, he notices the tipsy flush in her cheeks, the way her bright green eyes are hazy, a morning mist over a lush valley. Her smile is a little bit wicked.

“We hadn’t intended to—”

“Oh?” she says. “But it’s tradition, Master Diluc.”

“We’ve hardly been traditional,” you say wryly. “Stop trying to get a rise out of him, Lisa.”

The mage pouts. “You’re no fun.”

You smile serenely. “So you say.”

“I suppose I’ll go get Jean,” she says, “before she starts washing dishes.”

She sweeps off without another word. The scent of roses lingers behind her, sweetening the air. You sigh. “Sorry,” you tell Diluc.

“Is that something you would want?” he blurts out.

You blink. Light from inside slants golden through the windows; it highlights your eyes, makes them gleam. “Pardon me?”

“Being carried over the threshold,” he says. There’s warmth rising in his cheeks and he can only hope that his blush isn’t as crimson as his hair. “I can do that. If you want it.”

A smile unfurls on your lips. “It’s fine,” you say. “But it was kind of you to offer.”

Diluc nods, tugging at the cuff of his glove.

You tilt your head, that same little smile on your lips, but you don’t say anything. Diluc glances away, taking in the way the crystalflies are fluttering through the vines, glowing softly. They’re flecked through the darkness like stars. When he glances back, you’ve gathered your dress and are making your way towards the doors to the winery. He flexes his hand and casts his gaze back to the vineyard.

“Diluc,” you call. “Are you coming?”

He glances at you. You’re haloed by the light of the winery’s open door; it limns you with gold. Your face is hidden in a broad stroke of shadow, but Diluc thinks he sees the starlight gleam of your smile before you turn to step into the winery.

Diluc does the only thing he can.

He follows.

#genshin x reader #diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc ragnvindr x you #bee writes genshin

160 notes · View notes

scribeofnight · 2 months

Text

⸝⸝ ꒰ 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔. 🫧ㆍ₊⊹

✦ 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 ;; rafayel x afab!reader ✦ 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾 ;; slightly suggestive, slight fluff - mostly brainrots ✦ 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗌 ;; clothed grinding! slight making out! spoilers for + heavily based off of raf's myth! ambiguous ending! reader is in denial! reciprocated love! sadistic rafayel! slight demeaning / derogatory tone! mean rafayel! ✦ 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍 ;; 2.9k ✦ 𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝖻𝖾'𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾 ;; my first ever proper rafayel fic. i really tried to write smut but i was and never will be one - for now, at least. it's been so long since i wrote something but, the rafayel girlies in the LADS official discord server and i were talking, and i just HAD to write this out, you know? i rushed this out in like 3 days in between classes and studying, so not my best work... t-t anyway! enjoy~

You supposed that it was a good thing - after all, the ocean was loved by you, as though it was real, and true. You imagined what it would be like, to be loved by the ocean (and you refuse to believe the image of him appearing in your mind as soon as you think it).

It was yet another sleepless night - you could tell. The sands from the bay billowed into the air, mingling into the ocean’s scent as though in a romantic waltz, the howling barely audible yet so loud to you. You did not know what to do; for you were never this sensitive to the ocean’s gaze and touch until before…him.

You swing your feet down to the carpeted floor, cashmere wool tickling your bare feet imperceptibly as you make your way towards the window, praying to the stars that the marble flooring beneath the carpet was not too cold. It had been chilly of late, more so with his absence, you realised. You try to push away these foreign feelings, dawning on you like a stormcloud, fogging over violent seas. It made sense not to indulge in them - a princess falling in love with a Lemurian? That would be unheard of (you dare not say you wished it was just).

Pulling open the door to the balcony carefully, so that it would not creak, you peeked out, finding dark clouds rapidly looming in the sky, a big mass of darkness. You sighed softly, dejection almost visible in your bodily language as your shoulders drooped lightly, a mirage of exhaustion creeping into your features. If Miss Natasha saw you as such, she would be berating you for your ‘unlady-like posture’. You could almost hear her, you realised, giggling to yourself quietly as you made your way back to your bed, the short distance from the balcony to your bed covered in a few mere strides.

Miss Natasha only meant well ever since she had found you unconscious near the ocean. Without a second doubt, she had taken you in and fed you, gave you shelter and some work to keep yourself occupied with - along with a name. She would press a warm towel to the red mark of a koi fish - that she found burnt just under your left breast, on your ribcage - whenever it burnt. You did not realise it before, but Miss Natasha knew what it was; and for your safety, she had to keep quiet.

You gingerly sat down on your bed, looking out the window through the fluttering gaps of the billowing curtains, the moon illuminating your room, bathing it in its romantic glow. You fiddled with your fingers, picking and pulling at the skin around your nails - one habit that always warranted you a harsh reprimanding and an earful, as well as a manicure from Miss Natasha.

A flash of purple caught your eyes as you spotted the fishtail beacon next to you - one that he had given.

You knew he always smelled like the ocean from the infrequent times that you both have met - sea salt, with a hint of lavender and burnt sugar. Oftentimes, you wished you could bottle it up and store it away. A little reminder of him, locked away in a part of your chambers for you to use whenever you missed him - which was often, but it is not like you would admit it out loud.

“Holding it like this, I’ll sense Your Highness’s presence.”

His voice echoed in your ears from that night; the warm timbre, that look he gave you when teaching you how to use it, the warmth from his hands as they enveloped yours… you shook your head to clear the thoughts. Hesitantly, you reached out to hold the fishtail beacon in your palm, tracing the detailed fins and tail, a smile worming its way to your face as you sighed softly. You could almost feel it - feel him - if you closed your eyes.

Thinking of, there are a lot of things you would not admit out loud - especially about him. You rubbed your eyes carefully, the revelation somehow exhausting you.

“Your Highness has been harassing my fishtail beacon for quite some time now. Did Your Highness wish to see me?”

Your head snapped up, all sense of weariness gone as you gaped at the purple clad man in front of you, leaning against the wall next to your window. You swallowed harshly at the realisation of how he looked like he belonged there, in your bedchambers, your head spinning.

You asked dumbly, despite you gripping the fishtail beacon tightly in your hands, your fingers still fiddling with its end. You pretended to not notice Rafayel’s full body shiver as you caressed the fishtail beacon, and you certainly did not notice his breath hitch, nor his voice get deeper.

“Rafayel, what are you doing here?”

“Imagine my surprise when I found Your Highness daydreaming while grasping my beacon as so. Tell me, Princess…”

“Your Highness is caressing my beacon so tenderly. I inferred that perhaps Your Highness was in danger and came rushing over, as a good companion would,”

Rafayel remarked smugly, his voice dripping with confidence, words rolling out like warm ocean waves under the glittering sun. He clicked off his mask, placing it on your bedside table before taking a seat next to you, gently pulling the beacon out of your hands, his voice taking on a raspier edge.

His face moved closer to yours, the fishtail beacon discarded somewhere in the folds of your satin sheets, his breath ghosting over your face lightly. You could feel his gaze weigh heavy on you, eyes glowing slightly in the dark as they bore into your eyes, his lips pulled up in a light smirk before he pulled away slightly, placing a few more inches of space between the two of you.

You cleared your throat carefully, reaching out to grasp the sleeve of Rafayel’s robe, tugging on it and pulling him closer to you as you stood up as well, guiding him to turn to face you.

“What is it that you were so preoccupied with while my beacon was in your hands? Was it perhaps… me?”

Rafayel murmured, his voice saturated with a lilt you could not quite identify before he cleared his throat, standing up quickly, his back to you as he sighed. His shoulders were drawn together, clearly tensed as he hunched into himself. You could hear him muttering illegibly to himself, only catching the words ‘shouldn’t have’ and ‘what was I thinking’.

You murmured, gently brushing his hair back. You watched his eyes widen in surprise before his body stiffened, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed harshly, a light blush coating his cheeks at the proximity, his breathing slightly erratic.

“Rafayel.”

His voice broke off into a whimper as you tugged him closer, your fingers threading through the hair at his nape, effectively silencing him. You felt his arms gingerly rest on your waist, neither pushing nor pulling as you nudged your nose against his cheek, sighing quietly.

“Your Highness, I- I apologise; it seems as though the waves tonight are slightly uncontrollable tonight- i must retur-”

He parted his lips, his tongue darting out to wet them lightly as his eyes flickered from your lips and back to your eyes. He turned his face away, a hint of shyness evident as his crimson shaded ears made his feelings obvious, maybe perhaps his thoughts as well.

“Tell me what it is that you are thinking of, Rafayel.”

Your voice, albeit hushed, held a lot of power over him, you realised. You would not blame him - after all, if he spoke to you like this, you would react just as he is at the moment - trembling slightly beneath your touch, his breathing erratic as his ears burn red. His body was so warm, so warm that it burnt through your clothes, seeping into your skin and warming your bones.

He started quietly, inhaling sharply as you pressed closer, your head tucking into his neck as you sighed quietly. You could feel his pulse thrumming rapidly under your cheek - your only solace to find out it was just as fast, if not faster than your heartbeat. His grip on your waist seemed to tighten as he sighed audibly, gently pulling a few inches away from you.

“Your Highness- this is hardly appropriate-”

His voice resounded in the room, shaking you to your core despite the confusion. You blinked up at him, your arms still loosely wrapped around his neck, your lips parted in slight confusion. He stared down at you, a small smirk playing on his lips as he realised your innocence. Quickly clearing his throat, he ignored the burning of his ears, bending his knees slightly as his hands slid from your waist to the back of your thighs. Pressing a kiss right on your left rib cage, he tapped the back of your thighs gently once more, as you shivered while entrapped in his arms.

“Jump.”

With a soft, low chuckle, he guided you to a nearby wall, his breath fanning over your face carefully, barely breaking a sweat as he carried your weight. You stared up at him, taking in his features, getting drunk almost, as you counted the number of his beauty marks that you could see, swallowing the saliva that pooled in your mouth at the sight of him so close to you.

“Jump for me, princess.”

Unsure of what his intentions were, yet blinded by all you had, you followed his words, hopping carefully, yet hesitantly. In that moment, as you gasped, he gripped your thighs tightly, guiding your legs to wrap around his waist, one hand sliding to the small of your back, pressing your upper body against his as his other hand held you up from under our thighs, his fingers brushing your butt lightly.

He murmured as he propped you against the wall, his head dipping down into your neck as he pressed a chaste kiss there, his hand sliding up from your back to your waist, his grip on your waist tightening as he shifted such that his knee was between your legs, digging into your skin deliciously.

“You’re staring, Your Highness,”

You sound so utterly wrecked, and nothing had happened at all. You felt his knee jerk slightly, pressing into your core once more, pulling a strangled moan out of your lips. Panicking, he quickly looked up at you, covering your mouth with his hands, his knee rocking back and forth as he watched your eyes roll back in pleasure.

“Rafayel…”

He murmured, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he dipped his down towards your ear, nibbling your earlobe sensually, a soft groan escaping his lips as his hot breath fanned across your ear, shivering from the feel of how close he was to you.

“Quiet now, Your Highness. We can’t have everyone finding out how debauched and indecent the princess is when around her Lemurian companion, can we?”

He continued, pressing feverish kisses down your jaw and neck, gently biting down on your collarbone, licking the bite soothingly as he smirked at your muffled whimpers, his hand still firmly clamped over your lips. You had not registered that his knee had moved away from your core, and that he was grinding against you, his erection so prominent as it dug into your core through the layers of fabric, broken gasps and moans tumbling off your lips, barely muffled by Rafayel's slender fingers, his hand on your mouth pressing down further, fueling your pleasure as your eyes rolled back, the drag of his erection and both of your clothes so delicious.

“Unless you’re into that - then I’d be happy to oblige.”

“Awww...~ Awh, you're so adorable, princess... What, can't handle a bit of pain? Have I spoiled you too rotten, my dearest jewel? Maybe I should increase your pain tolerance. What do you say to that, Your Highness?”

“I have no problem in showing off what is rightfully mine.”

A jolt of electricity went through your spine as you heard his words, a gasp tumbling out your lips, barely muffled by the Lemurian’s slender hand. Your fingers once again threaded through his hair, tugging him up to meet your face as he rocked his body against you, soft moans and grunts falling from his red lips, as he brought a finger to the mark he had left on the junction where your neck meets your shoulder, pressing down on it slightly, watching you squirm as you try to shy away from the pain.

You groaned at his words, your toes curling as he seemed unaffected by the way you writhed under him, a small pout gracing your lips as your tongue darted out to wet your lips, tugging the purple-haired man closer. He could see the desperation in your eyes, and you were sure as hell that he could feel the damp stickiness between your thighs through your clothes. He watched patiently, a predator tracking its prey, watching a shaky exhale falling from your plush lips as his eyes darkened imperceptibly.

"Already so wrecked? You sound so debauched, Your Highness. Do you have no shame? Letting your Lemurian pet given to you as a gift have his way with you... I suppose I really should protect you, hm..?"

“Rafayel,”

Your voice sent a shiver down Rafayel’s spine as he grinded particularly roughly against you, his hips jerking violently into yours as you both moaned out in unison before Rafayel pushed you up further against the wall, clamping both hands down on your lips before shuddering once more, grinding into you slowly, carefully, his teeth gnawing on his bottom lip.

He groaned into your ear, his voice getting rougher as desire tinged his voice with saccharine, timber dripping with sugar-sweet honey a sharp contrast to the drunken lilt of pure heady, unadulterated pleasure seeping into both of your veins. The air was hot, so excruciatingly hot - so tense and you could not think of anything else except wanting to feel him deep, deep inside of you, quenching a never before known thirst that sparked and ebbed from your core, through your whole body, tingling with need, and want, and so much more that you just could not put into words.

Rafayel obliged, bending down and slotting your lips together in a frenzied, sloppy kiss. He panted against your lips, his body rocking into yours slightly rougher; more desperate, as he bit your lower lip, his tongue sliding into your mouth as he twirled it around your tongue, his hand moving to hike your nightgown up, both of your desperate, poorly muffled moans reverberating around the room and travelling between your lips, eyes squeezed shut and fingers tangled in hair and squeezing hips, squeezing so hard you were sure you could see faint red imprints tomorrow. You could feel his bulge rubbing onto your core deliciously, the friction and roughness making your toes curl as you moaned into the kiss, helplessly holding on to Rafayel as your nails dug into his shoulders, his clothes only getting in the way. The heady scent of lust and sweat clouded the room, creating a deliciously suffocating atmosphere that only fueled the need for him to be closer, closer, closer.

“Rafayel, please.”

You begged, your voice so broken, so utterly filthy sounding to Rafayel, and oh, did his head spin. Who was he if not a weak man to his princess’ desires?

He groaned in frustration, breaking the kiss, his eyes trailing a string of saliva that followed as he parted your lips gently, his tongue coming out to wet his lips - more so lick off the remnants of your kiss as he pressed his forehead against yours, pants leaving his mouth as your breaths intermingled, his hands carefully slipping out of your nightgown as he sets you down gently, still trapping you against the wall.

“I would love nothing more than to be yours for eternity, Your Highness.”

“Your Highness… are you…?”

His voice trailed off, filled with uncertainty and yet equal amount of desire as he looked at you, his eyes shimmering with want, ocean blue overshadowing the stiff peaks of pink dotting his irises, the mole on the left side of his nose very much distracting you. You gulped, feeling heat pool further to your core but you shook your head, cupping the taller’s cheeks gently and tugging him down, guiding his lips closer to yours.

“Would you let me have you for myself tonight, Your Quintessence?”

Rafayel froze, his body stiff against your tender hold, ensnared by your words as he gazed at you with wide eyes, his mouth slightly open, clearly not expecting his formal title to fall from your plush, red-bitten lips. You giggled softly, caressing his cheek gently and he gaped at you, admiration, awe and love swirling with the pure want in his eyes, concocting an addicting potion - befitting of a siren, you think, to cast a spell with just his eyes - before he surged forward, pressing a multitude of kisses across your face, suppressing his laugh as he swallowed harshly, audibly, your eyes trailing to his Adam’s apple as it bobbed with the gesture, quickly flicking back to his eyes as he flashed an impatient smile, his eyes storming over with clouds of desire, his grip on your waist tightening as he presses close, tilting his head such that his lips are brushing against yours, his canines catching on your earlobe.

♡₊˚ 🪼・ copyright @scribeofnight all rights reserved ;; do not copy, steal, plagarize, reword or repost to other platforms without proper permission || all credits to original owners and creators of the characters from the media + pictures that are not my own.

226 notes · View notes

milksnake-tea · 11 months

Text

━━ homecoming.

He was always your favorite, ever since the day you'd found him. But you knew you couldn't keep him forever. One day, he would have to leave.

merman!blade x gn!reader

contains: fluff, hurt/comfort, a smudge of angst, blade is a little shit, reader is a scientist, potentially ooc blade, a hint of abandonment issues, making out (but nothing suggestive), not edited we die like jing liu, written before version 1.1

word count: 1.7k

a/n: posting this on the last day of mermay because ofc i am (im pst so shhh its not june yet). anyways merman blade is the most genius thing i have ever thought of no one will convince me otherwise

Your research facility was unlike any other in the world.

The hallways were enshrouded in darkness, with the only light sources being the illuminated tanks that lined the walls. They varied in size and shape, some cylindrical, others rectangular. Some tanks were lucky enough to have entire biomes in them, ranging from gorgeous coral reefs to murky kelp forests, and some had nothing in them at all. But what every tank had in common was an eerie glow of cyan that pulsated throughout their waters.

As you walked past the exhibits - your footsteps echoing loudly throughout the empty halls - your specimen began to unravel to life.

Electric eels sparked with lightning as you passed, and beside them, gigantic sea serpents hissed and coiled. Grindylows peeked from behind their forests, and jellyfish of all forms drifted aimlessly through their tanks. An eye the size of a soccer ball watched you from the largest exhibit of all, the giant squid thrilled to see its master.

This institute was home to mythology and biology alike, where fables rested alongside common knowledge. Here, in the middle of nowhere, with no land in sight, you were in the eye of the storm - vulnerable to the truths behind old sailors’ tales.

Despite this, you loved your job more than anything. These creatures that you studied, that you nurtured and raised, were like your children. Even the various hippocampi (who you didn’t have the heart to keep within your walls), were dear to you, and you to them.

Yes, there was the occasional sea monster that you had to shoot down. Yes, there were the occasional sirens who would try to lure you to your death. Most of the ocean’s creatures were dangerous, and well aware of it. Unfortunately, you were too smart and too stubborn to die.

A sharp tap on glass snapped you out of your thoughts. Smiling knowingly to yourself, you walked up to a cylindrical glass tank that spanned two stories tall, encircled by spiraling stairs.

“Hey, Blade. Missed me?” You greeted, placing a hand on the glass.

Out of all of the creatures that you held within your home, he was your favorite.

He really was a beauty. Gifted with a slender black tail, seared with a vicious red, the merman swayed gently in his tank, sleek, almost sharp fins flowing around him. Blackened scales gave way to fair skin, scarred with scratches and bites from previous battles. His hair billowed around him like a dark cloud, fading from black to a soft maroon.

You'd found Blade a few weeks ago, bleeding out in the coral reefs surrounding your little island of a facility. He’d likely gotten into a fight with other merpeople, as the more territorial ones tended to do. Even now, the wounds hadn’t completely healed, with bandages still wrapped around his abdomen.

Blade’s ever-cold face barely budged at your greeting. The second your hand met his tank, he backed away, swimming up towards the top of his tank - naturally expecting you to follow. You sighed, shaking your head knowingly.

By the time you had climbed the staircase to the top, Blade was already lounging on the stairs leading into his waters. His wet hair clung to his body as he watched you expectantly, his tail flicking small waves into motion. Sunlight cascaded over him from a glass ceiling, bathing him in a gentle light.

“You’re late.” His eyes never left your body as you neared him, eyeing you like a hungry predator.

You dropped your bag off some counter lining the walls. “I was dealing with the new shipments.”

“Oh? Am I finally getting some company?” Blade asked sarcastically, stretching like a cat in the warm sun. You don’t think it was an accident that he rolled over, shamelessly showing off his sculpted abdomen.

“Like I could just order a merman off the web,” you scoffed, sitting next to him and dipping your legs into the tank. “You’re just a special case.”

He didn’t respond to that, merely watches you with an emotion that you can’t quite pinpoint. Knowing him, it could be anything from warm affection to a mischievous desire to inconvenience you by the slightest amount. He was petty like that.

Briefly, his tail came to brush against your legs. You giggled at the action, the thin fins ticklish against your skin. A flicker of a smile flashed across Blade’s face, gone just as fast as it had appeared.

“How are your wounds?” you asked, your hand absentmindedly coming to pet his head. Where Blade would have bitten anyone else, the merman keened at the touch, closing his eyes briefly.

“Better.” His voice was barely above a whisper as you threaded your fingers through his wet hair.

“That’s good. No pain?”

“None,” he answered. As you removed your hand, for a moment, he chased it, before he met your teasing eyes and remembered himself. Coughing, he quickly turned away, refusing to meet your amused gaze.

“At this rate, you’ll be leaving sooner than expected,” you hummed. Blade’s eyes widened at your words, an unfamiliar pang hitting his chest. “I’m sure you’ve been missing your friends.”

Blade scoffed at the notion, rolling back onto his chest to stare at the floor. “Hardly.”

“Well,” you shrugged, kicking up some water. “At the very least, you’d miss the open waters.”

That, he couldn’t deny. But even still, the thought of finally leaving the facility had become foreign to him. Three weeks prior, he would’ve jumped at the opportunity to get out of this place, this tank. But now, he wasn’t so sure.

“Hey, chin up.” Your hand cupped his cheek, bringing him to look up at you. “It’s not like you’ll never see me again. You can always visit.”

He doubted that. Out in the ocean, he had little free time to himself. He would spend his days constantly on the run from various mermaid kingdoms and tribes, and if not that, he’d be hunting, searching for his next meal. He journeyed the seas without end. Blade was a vagrant, a wanderer without a home.

But here, perhaps…

His body moved without thinking. Pushing himself up onto his arms, he leaned over you, water droplets falling onto your shirt as he caged you between his arms. His gaze had become hazy, his eyes lidded. His breath shuddered in his chest as he pressed his forehead against yours, drinking in as much of you as he could.

Blade didn’t say much, but he didn’t have to. You heard his words loud and clear, without him needing to say a word.

Stay.

It was unclear who he was talking to, whether it be you or himself. There was a subtle desperation in the way his chest heaved as he breathed, breathless without a thief.

Your arms, your welcoming arms, wrapped around his shoulders like a warm blanket, bringing him in for an embrace. Immediately, he latched onto the opportunity, gripping onto you as though you’d disappear if he dared loosen his grip. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent, forever engraving it into his memory.

If only he was human, he’d lament. If only he could walk the lands like you did. If only the two of you weren’t separated by land and sea. If only - his grip became just a little tighter - he could stay like this a little longer.

You stroke the back of his head gently, feeling Blade shiver at your touch. He wasn’t crying - you didn’t know if he even remembered how.

Deep inside, you wanted him to stay. You didn’t want to let him go. It was an ugly, selfish part of you that wanted to keep him for yourself. But you knew you couldn't keep him here. He had to return to the ocean, where he belonged.

He pulled away from you, yet still held onto your arms like a lifeline. You never thought you’d describe the stoic merman as desperate, but there was no other word that could properly depict the emotion swirling in his eyes.

Your hands came to cradle his face gently, unable to say a word. Blade’s breath hitched.

His lips barely parted as he spoke, his voice raspy and low.

“Forgive me.”

That was the only warning you got before he crashed his lips into yours.

His kiss was unlike any other you’ve had. Whereas your previous experiences were tender and romantic, this was hungry, raw, depraved. Blade kissed you with the fervor of a starving man, as though you would be his final meal. He was aggressive with his affections, practically clawing onto your shirt as he clutched you closer to him.

Your heart raced in your chest as you met his violent dance, parting your lips for a moment to allow him to slip in his tongue. You welcomed him in, firmly holding his face. Emotions swirled in you like the blurred voices of a crowd, overwhelming and satiating you at the same time.

To say that you were surprised by his actions would be a lie. You’ve known his feelings for a while now, and had plenty of time to accept yours. It was obvious, in the gentlest touches, in the way he could make you smile just by being around you.

You’ve avoided acknowledging these feelings for the longest time, and so did he.

When the two of you finally parted, a string of saliva connecting the two of you, the only thing you could do was watch. You studied Blade’s face, clearly now, for the first time. Your fingers traced around his jawline, admiring how his cheeks had become dyed with a pretty red. You swiped over his parted lips, still catching his breath from the kiss. Your thumb rubbed just underneath his eyes, brushing away the loose strands of hair from his face.

You’ve always known he was a beauty, but in this moment, he simply took your breath away.

Blade covered your hand in his, nuzzling into your palm. He softly pressed his lips to your inner wrist, a stark contrast from the kiss he’d just ravaged you with. He kept his eyes solely on you as he did this, trapping your gaze with his stare.

“I’m not leaving.”

“Huh?” You blinked, trying to snap yourself out of your daze. Blade smirked against your palm, swiping out his tongue and dragging it against your skin.

“Come, now,” he mused. “You didn’t think you could get rid of me that easily, did you?”

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai star rail blade #hsr blade #honkai star rail blade x reader #blade x reader #hsr blade x reader #x reader #y/n #reader #reader insert #oneshot #mermay #archives 🏵️

920 notes · View notes

papiliotao · 9 months

Text

꒰ 𝒏𝒐𝒄𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆 ✩࿐

pairings: kazuha, wanderer, and xiao x gn!reader (separate)

content: fluff, mutual pining, cuddling in kazu and scara's, a bit of a confession in kazuha’s, tranquil beach scenery with kazu, scara is in his wanderer era, you travel with the wanderer, watching fireworks with xiao

summary: under the cover of an enchanting night, romance blossoms.

a/n: i love mutual pining. also, the idea of xiao and scara being soft towards only the reader makes me melt. anyway, i hope you enjoy reading!

Tonight, waves lap at the shore, ebbing and flowing in a steady rhythm, creating a repetitive beat — a baseline for nature’s songs. The sea reflects the darkening skies above, displays of vivid blue and violet lined with subtle shades of rose gold. Sand shifts as you walk barefoot along the shoreline with your closest friend, each grain absorbing the remnants of daytime warmth.

“KAZUHA, hurry up!” you yell, rushing ahead despite the resistance of the miniature dunes beneath you. Playful giggles fill the air as you run and Kazuha chases after you, trying his best to ensure that you remain within his sight.

“Ah, wait!” he calls back, following after you.

Although your legs carry you far, you eventually begin to pant, and your body feels far too heavy to continue on. In a single motion, you dramatically fall to the ground, thankful for the sand below acting as padding. You crash, but fortunately, you’re not injured.

Seconds later, Kazuha catches up. He stands above you, gazing down at your breathless face and smiling softly. Embers of adoration ignite in crimson eyes reminiscent of autumn leaves, burning brightly as he offers a hand to you.

“Are you alright?” he asks, grabbing one of your hands firmly. In one swift motion, he pulls you to your feet, and you nod.

“I’m fine,” you manage to say between gasps for air. You’re still tired, and you suppose you should have conserved some energy instead of attempting to run at the speed of light. However, you know you’ll recover eventually.

Kazuha stares at you for a second, irises mirroring shades of sunset flickering over your each and every feature before he shakes his head.

“You look like you need a rest,” he tells you.

He sits down on the sand and pats the spot next to him, gesturing for you to take a seat next to him. You do as he instructs, and soon enough, you find yourself on the ground beside Kazuha, your shoulders nearly touching.

You glance over at him, admiring the way his snow white hair, highlighted by the dying crepuscule, billows in the sea breeze. Autumnal pools of molten rubies fill with small flecks of gold as he keeps his gaze fixated upon the tranquil sea before you. But nothing rivals the smile that comes to adorn his features — full of wonder, an encapsulation of the sun’s brilliance and the moon’s serenity.

Ethereal. That’s the word that comes to mind while you stare at the beautiful boy next to you, and yet, you fear it’s still not enough to describe him.

He’s perfect. His allure rivals that of the panoramic scenery before you.

You wish you could stay in the moment forever — or at the very least, permanently etch every last detail of today into your memory.

Soon enough, the last threads of warmth are pulled from the earth with the disappearance of the sun, and a chill begins to radiate as the cold light of the moon overtakes the sky. Every hint of marigold, coral, and canary completely vanishes. In their place, a deeper midnight blue ebbs into the heavens. As the wind passes by, you feel a slight shiver run down your spine.

And your discomfort doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you cold, my dearest?” Kazuha asks you.

The term of endearment causes a warmth to rise to your cheeks. Although affectionate words aren’t rare with Kazuha, your friend is making it sound as though the two of you are a couple.

However, your embarrassment fades as another gust of glacial fervor drifts by to steal the heat from your face, you force yourself to nod. You know that even if you lie, Kazuha will be able to see right through you. You’ve been friends for a while now, and given Kazuha’s attunement to nature, it’s nearly impossible to deceive him.

The wandering samurai wraps an arm around you, igniting a warmth akin to the caress of golden sunrays. His embrace is so warm… so comforting…

You feel your eyelids becoming heavy, and your head involuntarily falls to Kazuha’s shoulder. Slumber begins to overtake you. Tendrils of tantalization pull you deeper into a realm of oneiric euphoria, blurring out the waking world in the process.

But through it all, thoughts of the boy beside you, the one who embodies transient autumns in both looks in personality, never leave your mind.

Just as you feel yourself falling into a plane of enchanting fantasies, you hear six soft words spoken in tandem, whispered by a voice more delicate than the marine zephyrs surrounding you.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Wow, you’re really bad at this,” the WANDERER huffs. “At this rate, we’ll freeze to death.”

You can feel the Wanderer’s indigo gaze, a flawless mimic of the night sky, piercing into the depths of your soul, scrutinizing your every move. At the moment, the only illumination is provided by phantasmagoric stars dotting a canvas of murky navy and violet, but it seems to be enough for him to make out your silhouette against the surrounding shadows.

You sigh, tangible frustration permeating the otherwise serene evening air as you exhale.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I guess I’m just tired or something.”

For a few seconds, a defeaning silence fills the atmosphere, transforming the ambience into one of awkwardness.

And then you feel the Wanderer sit down beside you.

“Whatever,” he mutters. “You’re clearly exhausted and in no state to be starting a fire.” For some reason, his tone of voice is far less pointed than usual, changing from an embodiment of everwinter storms to something more akin to a honeyed warmth — a tranquil portrait of summer’s joys.

You open your mouth to apologize again, but before you can speak, you hear grass rustling as the Wanderer stands up. Your gaze follows his barely-visible figure as he walks a short distance from where you’re sitting back to the small tent you set up earlier. He rummages around for a second before returning and draping a blanket around your shoulders.

“Don’t bother thanking me,” he says, sitting back down next to you.

Your traveling companion looks up at the star-speckled sky, and you swear you can see galaxies full of vibrant magenta and ocean blue reflected in his irises.

“Aren’t you cold too?” you ask, breaking the fragile, short-lived silence into fragments with words that echo in the midnight air, seemingly amplified in the midst of a peaceful moment.

The Wanderer simply shakes his head in response.

“There’s no need to worry about me,” he says.

And yet you still can’t help but feel guilty. You’re nice and cozy underneath the protection of a velvety blanket, safe from the frigid fingers of encroaching night. Meanwhile, the Wanderer is left to fend for himself.

What if you just share the blanket?

The idea is certainly tempting, but you’re a little too scared to follow through with it. Throughout your time with the Wanderer, you’ve gotten the feeling that he’s rather unfond of touch. After all, with his snarky attitude and unfriendly demeanor, he’s the antithesis of a cuddly person.

However, as you shift to sit in a more comfortable position, your fingers accidentally brush against his, causing you to flinch.

He’s cold. Incredibly cold.

And yet not a shiver runs down his spine.

Is he pretending to be alright for your sake?

The mere thought is enough to send another wave of warmth through your body, and suddenly, you feel less alone in the midst of enigmatic darkness. You realize that although he doesn’t outright show it, the Wanderer cares about you. Your heart flutters with the delicacy of a butterfly’s iridescent wings.

“You’re looking out for me,” you whisper under your breath. A small smile dances across your lips, and you decide to take a risk, jumping off a ledge of certainty and into an abyss filled with unknown feelings and fragile bonds.

With one swift movement, you take the end of the blanket closer to the Wanderer and wrap it around his shoulders. Now you’re sharing, and you can feel him pressing up against you. You swear you can feel the tempo of your heartbeat intensifying, each thump resounding in rapid succession.

To your surprise, the Wanderer doesn’t try to push you away. Instead, he scoots towards you.

“You don’t mind this?” you ask him, anticipating his response with bated breath.

For a second, silence fills the night, sending your mind into a polarizing frenzy and your heart into a panic. However, when the Wanderer speaks, you feel the tension leave your body.

“I don’t…” he starts, pausing briefly to consider his next words. Perhaps the surrounding darkness gives him courage, or perhaps he simply can’t suppress his feelings anymore because his next words are entirely unexpected, “but only because it’s you.”

Petals of red and gold bloom into voids of darkness, illuminating endless night in a display of phosphorescent flowers. But the sky isn’t the only thing that undergoes a stunning metamorphosis due to the luminous grace of the fireworks painting the shadows. In the edges of your vision, borders frayed from staring at the breathtaking sight before you for far too long, you catch an spark blaze alight within the honeyed amber of XIAO’s eyes. A subtle smile graces his features.

It’s barely noticeable, but it’s there.

You turn your attention to the beautiful boy beside you, absolutely captivated by the grin adorning his face. Displays of happiness from Xiao are rare, occurrences rivaling the convergence of sun and moon — a total eclipse. Your heart beats erratically, creating an exhilarating backing for a nocturne composed of the crackling of fireworks.

“You’re smiling,” you whisper.

Xiao grunts dismissively.

“Nonsense,” he says, wiping all traces of childish wonder and carefree bliss from his face. “The foolish antics of humans mean nothing to the Adepti.”

You feel the corners of your lips turn down. It’s almost like Xiao’s mood is infectious at the moment. When he’s smiling, you’re smiling, and when the euphoria fades from his expression, a certain lightness seems to vanish from the atmosphere.

“Oh, I see.” Your voice comes out meek, dulled by the immense disappointment filling your heart.

You want nothing more than to see Xiao happy. Throughout your time together, you’ve grown to care about him — admittedly a little bit more than platonically — and yet despite your concerns, you feel like Xiao doesn’t share the same sentiments. Xiao doesn’t quite care about his joy as much as you do. He’s far more content with protecting you, and although his actions never fail to cause giddiness to overwhelm you, you can’t help but want to see him smile for once.

Perhaps he’s scared of shattering the cold and distant image he’s crafted, despite the fact that you already know it’s all a fragile illusion formed from jagged shards of the most delicate crystal. Deep down, you know Xiao is caring and warm, akin to a flawless summer day, complete with golden rays of sunlight beaming down at you and a honeyed caress.

It seems that Xiao has noticed the negativity radiating off of you because as you avert your gaze, staring at the wooden floor of Wangshu Inn’s balcony, you hear Xiao’s voice once again.

“Wait,” he interjects, cutting through the thick silence with a singular pointed word, sharper than a dagger constructed from the toughest of diamonds. “I… should explain myself,” he mumbles.

Although you look up once more to make eye contact with Xiao, you’re unsuccessful. Now he’s the one avoiding your stare, and he looks nothing short of endearingly shy. Gilded lamplight illuminates his features, making the sunset blush dawning on his cheeks all the more apparent to you.

“I wasn’t…” Xiao manages before pausing once more. “I wasn’t only smiling because of the fireworks,” he forces himself to say.

His words pique your interest. Although the rest of the night is exceptionally beautiful, the various acrylic hues burgeoning across a canvas painted a dark obsidian shade are the most noteworthy sights of the evening. When you try to think of anything that even closely parallels their beauty, nothing comes to mind.

“I felt at peace,” he says, his voice softening, “because you were beside me.”

You inhale sharply. The air feels far too electrifying at the moment, shocking you with an unexpected elation. You didn’t expect Xiao to be so forward, and yet, here he is, more or less telling you how much you mean to him. Many words remain unspoken, but you already know Xiao well enough to understand the weight of that one sentence.

As you glance over to the adeptus once more, a grin dances across your face. Aureate galaxies meet your gaze, sparkling with the subtlest hints of adoration.

The blush across Xiao’s cheeks only intensifies as the corners of his lips turn up once again in a shy smile.

It’s luminous. His expression, a true embodiment of equanimity and contentment, turns even the most breathtaking of fireworks more vibrant and the brightest of stars more radiant.

It’s at that moment that an epiphany strikes.

Contrary to what you had believed just moments prior, there’s one thing that rivals the stunning nature of the rainbow-infused pyrotechnics before you: the soft grin adorning Xiao’s features, accentuating each part of his face with a light brighter than that of an imploding supernova.

thank you for reading! i have a few more drafts that are close to finished, so i might post again soon (no promises though because i tend to procrastinate on my writing).

#r.archives *ೃ༄#favoniuslibrary #astronetwrk #kazuha x reader #scaramouche x reader #xiao x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #genshin headcanons #wanderer x reader #kazuha fluff #scaramouche fluff #xiao fluff

861 notes · View notes

dailyadventureprompts · 10 months

Text

Planescape: The Inclementus Convolution

It is simple as hells go, there is the snow, the walls, and the shape of things that will haunt you for the rest of your days

It appears first as a troubling dream, endless anxious wanderings through a frigid and featureless maze. While most shrug off these visions others sink into a deep and restless malady, possessed by recurring feelings of being cold and lost. For some the dreams deepen, overtaking their waking life until they sink into an unwakung torpor, others are compelled to walk: seeking out winding alleys or wintry landscapes in the hope of finding a way OUT of the maze, only to find themselves transported to it bodily.

Occult scholars of dream and dimension have named this phenomenon the Inclementus Convolution, and conjectures on its purpose and original architects feature in many a forbidden tome. What these dabblers have failed to understand is that the convolution is not a thing of artifice but part of a great unknowable entity, which uses the maze to filter-feed from the multiverse the way a great whale uses baleen to trawl the sea. While the exact nature of this entity will be discussed below the cut, whats far more interesting is how the appearance of this dream labyrinth affects the lives of others.

A series of disappearances has the party tracing the city’s backstreets tracking rumours of a slaver gang or some kind of monstrous presence. Imagine their surprise when they not only find one of the lost individuals wandering in fevered confusion, standing before an alley from which unseasonable snow billows.

Nearly swept up in the convolution as a child, a minor noble has bent the wealth of her station towards determining the meaning of that traumatic vision, becoming a notable patron for adventurers as she sends them off to explore various ruins or gather scraps of potentially relevant lore. The party are hired by her for a mission, but weeks later when they return from their delve they find that her estate has fallen prey to an otherworldly influence. They’ll need to brave the twisting halls of her manorhome and the hedgemazes that sprawl across the grounds if they want to get paid, and maybe rescue their hapless benefactor in the process.

A fairly simple bounty mission to track down an occultist hiding in the mountains and bring him back alive quickly goes out of control after he opens a portal to the convolution inside his cell, transforming the surrounding guard barracks and its prisons into an eacheresque tangle backing onto an eldritch landscape. With other prisoners looking desperately to escape and panicking guards looking to arrest everyone they don’t recognize, will the party be able to escape before the whole structure is subsumed into nightmare?

The entity at the centre of the maze is seldom seen by those lost with the expanse as the upper reaches of the towering walls are obscured by an omnipresent cloud cover. As such no earthly name has been given to it, as the miles long tendrils it sends skulking through the corners are often confused for individual lifeforms which some call. It is not malicious, nor is it strictly sentient, it is simply a lifeform doing what it has always done to survive, nevermind that it involves pinching beings from across the cosmos. Creatures that die within the convolution desiccate, their bodies becoming dried out husks as the moisture within them is absorbed by the surrounding stone to feed the entity above and later join with the ever present snow, the built up condensation from innumerable victims across time.

Future Adventures:

Lost souls from many worlds have left marks on the walls of the convolution, pleas for help, attempts to map a way out, epitaphs and memorials from those that knew their end was near. One of these happened to be a sage with secret knowledge most relevant to the party's ongoing struggles, meaning if that they want to find it for themselves they're not only going to have to find their way into and through the labyrinth, but also Ariadne their way back out after finding and deciphering the message he left.

Though very little can survive long in the endless halls, there are some interdimensional oddities that have managed to persist around the fringes, carried from one world to the next as the Inclementus seeks out new victims.

The most fearful of these passengers are a remnants of an alien empire known as the Tssol who were led into the convolution when their god-prince decided to lead his people into the otherworld following a "holy vision" (and the encouragement by his less theisticly inclined siblings looking to clear a path to the throne). The survivors of this royal expedition have endured for centuries by by carving their city into the oldest walls of the labrynth, where the entity's fleshy stalks merge with the endless walls. They worship it, subsisting from the meat sloughed off as it grows and using the remains to feed fungal farms, counting themselves blessed for following the god-prince's vision. Those that stumble into the maze are of particular interest to them, as individuals affected by Inclementus influence are capable of wandering in and out of the aberrant realm allowing the Tssol warriors to ride out and launch raids on other worlds.

#dnd #d&d #mid level #low level #dungeon #lovecraftian #abberations #city #noble #planescape #hell #bounty #bounty hunting #occult #dungeons and dragons #ttprg #pathfinder #horror #spooky #eldritch

513 notes · View notes

rontra · 3 months

Text

meddling in curses ⚓

(blackswan pirate au)

Average Tcabs Image.png (+ bonus Eating Him version for the REAL tcabs heads) (+ lineart only because i had a lot of fun lining it)

um. yea 😌👍

#the cold and billowing sea #willow schnee #raven branwen #rwby #blackswan #???? this one's zany idk. ask to tag if theres anything ig #blood

79 notes · View notes

dearestspirit · 4 months

Text

a note heard in heaven - 04

mizu x fem!reader | au based on the film the handmaiden | word count: 3,826 | warnings: mdni. this series will contain sexual and dark themes, including: abuse, sex, sexual assault/harrasment, period typical misogyny, murder, allusions to suicide, and period typical stigmas against mental health.

series masterlist | previous part | next part

With a deafening metallic crash, the bell you’ve been ringing falls to the ground, the string snapping. Mizu, still enraged, fumbles with her sheets before rising to her feet. She’s sliding your door open so hard it thwacks against the wall, nearly closing once more. Every bit of her anger crackled within her, a roaring fire yet to be settled. If she shut her eyes for even the briefest moment, all she could see was you in Taigen’s lap. The way you so easily accepted his lips on yours, his fingers slithering up past your underclothes. Approaching your bed, she’s sure you can feel the heat radiating off her. She hopes it burns you. Melts you until you’re ash she can blow out to sea; watch as you mix with the water and then never visit the shore again.

You’re upright on your bed, heart thudding with every heavy step Mizu takes that shakes the floor. “I can feel a nightmare coming.”

“And?” She stares.

You’ve never been scared of her eyes. But her glare is frighteningly cold, devoid of any care for you. You yearn to see her eyes the way you had seen them yesterday; comforting you, cupping your cheeks and telling you those tender words to not feel guilty for being born. You’d hate to hear whatever thoughts were running through her mind right now, if she felt any sense of regret. Her lack of emotion towards you left you bitter.

“You know, it’s hard to do those readings. I would’ve liked it if you were here to help me with my clothes,” You flip the corner of your blankets over, scooting to the left and patting the spot where you sat. “Lay here.”

“Yeah,” Mizu scoffs. “I’m sure you would’ve gotten your clothes off just fine with The Count’s help.”

You don’t respond, already on your side and staring at the wall. Away from her.

If she looked close enough, she thought she could see a tremor in your shoulders. That feisty resolve of hers was crumbling, and it didn’t take long for her to slide in next to you. She too faced opposite you, not wanting to look you in the eyes. A few beats of silence pass once she settles under the covers. Closer to you now, she can feel it. Your breaths aren’t the most stable, and your skin emanates a chill that almost worries her.

“The Count… he proposed to me,” You’re whispering so quietly she’s not even sure if you can hear yourself. “Next month, when my fiance leaves for his visit to the family business, we’ll escape and elope.”

She’s plucking at the threads of your blankets, shrugging. “You said yes?”

“I said I wasn’t sure.”

“Why?” Mizu’s tone switches to annoyance. That wasn’t the plan; you were supposed to be elated. Say yes in an instant.

“I’m scared of The Count.”

“There’s nothing to be scared of,” Mizu grits her teeth, as if she’s trying to convince herself of the lie she just told. “He’s a better man for you than your fiance.”

“I can tell he’s not, like an instinct.” You’re sighing, rolling yourself over so that you face Mizu’s back.

Gulping, she finds the courage to do the same. Your breaths, short and shallow, billow across her face. Strands of your hair fall over your cheek. In a moment she doesn’t even think, tracing your cheekbone with her finger to tuck your hair behind you. Like an instinct.

Before she can get too distracted, you lean close to her.

“Mizu,” You mumble, and there’s a tinge of embarrassment on your expression. “I don’t understand men. What they want after marriage… I didn’t have a mother here to teach me. I know first… I’d have to kiss The Count, right?”

She’s dumbfounded, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, you’d have to kiss him. Which you’ve already done, so I don’t know why you’re having a fit.”

“I’m not!” You whine, the noise tugging on Mizu’s heartstrings. Maybe she liked when you were a little bit of a playful brat. “I just don’t know about everything that… comes after.”

“You and The Count will kiss, and then hug. In bed,” She snorts at putting such inappropriate thoughts into innocent euphemisms. “Just say yes. It’ll be fine, you don’t even need to think about it.”

“What if I don’t feel anything?” You mutter, squirming in discomfort.

Mizu groans, head falling. “Look, I’ll show you one thing, then you’ll go to bed, wake up and say yes to The Count. You can figure the rest out yourself.”

She can’t say she didn’t feel bad for you; even though she herself didn’t have a mother for these things either, she had a plethora of friends who would talk about all these crass topics together. Sharing stories of their encounters to pass the time. Yet here you were, all alone with no peer to fool around with. Though she supposed you now had that little tryst with Taigen– she’d been trying to black it out of her mind to avoid the bristles of anger it’d bring her– but she doubts he taught you anything useful out of that. She knew him. He would put his hands on you and take the lead. Touch you where he wanted to touch you. With pinching fingers that’d sting and bruise. Is that what made her so furious? That she’d be complicit in letting someone like you, fragile and delicate, be fed to a wolf like him? She didn’t care if you liked him. It was fine, it was more than fine, it was the plan. She doesn’t like you.

She reaches over you, digging around the drawer next to you to find the candy you liked; the one she had given you in the bath. Popping it in her mouth, she wets it sufficiently, before spreading a thin, sticky layer of sugar on the outside of her lips. If she was going to kiss you, she’d at least make sure you enjoyed it. For your sake. She doesn’t like you.

But then you’re staring at her expectantly, pouting as you wait for her to make any sort of move, make any sort of comment.

“You’re so…” She sounds breathless, the tightness in her chest growing.

One of her thumbs comes up to pass across your bottom lip. Her knuckles brush against your cheek. Hoping her fingerprints can memorize the little imperfections of your skin. Hoping, selfishly, that her touch could stain you, make you hers.

Cute. Is what she wants to tell you.

“Infuriating.” She finishes, and with the most delicate touch she could muster, presses her lips against your own.

It’s swift, as if your body could barely process the feel of her. When your tongue swipes out, you find that the taste of that candy she had once fed you in the bath is sweeter, this time. It doesn’t take her long to chase after you, giving you another chaste peck.

“Mizu,” You murmur into her mouth, opening your eyes. “How’d you learn this?”

“I had friends who told me.” She tells you.

“In words, or…?” You’re asking, unsure if you want the real answer to that.

“Yes,” She huffs, chuckling. She’s pulling away from you, moving back to how she was before you two kissed. “Just words. Let’s get you to bed, okay?”

You’re silent, though she can see the way your eyes have darkened. Yet they’re shining– barely reminiscent of the dull, lonely girl she’s been so used to. It takes her by surprise when you reach for her neck, pulling her lips back to yours fervently. She had kissed you so sweetly, yet your kiss burns her. Ardent with desire, you’re quick to prod your tongue against her mouth. You’re nearly cooing when she opens hers in return, your content exhales satisfying the need she had buried deep within her. Remorse creeps in her bones when she realizes she has to pull away, taking a breath the both of you needed. You’re panting beside her, hand on your chest right over your heart.

“I felt it.” You’re grinning, lips still shining.

Mizu’s smile drops, a cold rush of panic seeping through her when she hears your words. It’s not supposed to be her.

“That’s what you’ll feel for The Count.” She’s rushing to fix the mess she’s made.

“Really?” You’re snuggling yourself closer to her, giggling. “He’ll like bedding me, even with my cold hands and feet?”

You’re playing around, and Mizu wishes she could entertain that. Just for a while, forget all about Taigen. In her mind there’s a world where there is nothing but the two of you; there is no horrible past spent being a criminal, there is no awful fiances, there is no Taigen. There, she can dote on you– and, if she let herself really be vulnerable and admit it to herself– you’d dote on her too. She’d kiss you breathless in the morning, the afternoon, at night. Rest her head on the plush of your thighs while your fingers stroke her hair. Lay her body over yours to keep you warm. Sate your hungers in any way you wished. She’d like bedding you, she wanted to hiss.

“He will.”

“Are you sure?” You’re squinting, still smirking.

“Yes, I’m absolutely-” She’s cut off by the feeling of your hand reaching into her underclothes, the chill of your hand shocking her when it cups her breast. “Oh.”

“Do you like it?” Your head tilts, a devious sparkle in your eye.

She’s gasping when your cold fingers give a faint pinch to her nipple, an intense flush crawling up the back of her neck, her ears, to her cheeks. You bite your lip, thinking just how ethereal she looks; her dark hair framing her face, eyes wide with what you hope is the same lust yours hold, and that pink glow. You wanted, so badly, to sink your teeth into whatever skin of hers you could reach. To taste whatever she’d be willing to give you. You wanted her to give you her touch.

“Show me, Mizu,” You plead, burying your teeth deeper into your lip. “Do it to me.”

She has to get herself together. Her eyes can barely focus on your form in the low light of the room. She kneads at your breast over the fabric of your underclothes, not daring to go further.

“The… The Count will like this, too.” Mizu says with a rasp, barely able to contain herself.

Her hand reaches higher, slipping the sleeve of your robe off your shoulder. Your bare chest now exposed, she watches you shudder as the cold air meets your skin. Her mouth runs dry, making a quick glance back up at your eyes. Taking your upper arm into her hand, she pushes you back so she can hover over you.

“If he sees you like this…” It’s sudden, the way she dips her head down and encloses her mouth around your nipple.

She doesn’t want to hurt you– that much is evident by the way she avoids scraping her teeth against the peak. Instead she laps at it soothingly, relishing in your muffled whimpers. When she sucks, your hand flies to her hair, pulling. The sting as you tug on the strands excites her, causing her to press hot, open-mouthed kisses to the swell of your breast. To the valley between them, following the column of your throat to the bottom of your chin. She can tell your mouth is open in an attempt to speak; teasingly, she circles her thumb around your nipple, wet with her spit. Heavy, stuttered breaths escape you as your mouth opens and closes, trying to gain some footing. Is it wrong of her to say she likes toying with you? Not cruelly, like your fiance would, and not demandingly like Taigen would; but giving you what you want, just never enough. Anything to hear your staggered moans. See the dewdrops of tears shine in the corners of your eyes. And you’ll find that no matter how much she taunts you with just hints of pleasure, that it’s the sweetest touch you’ve ever felt. Ever will feel.

“Will he be this gentle, too?” You ask, voice hoarse.

“How could he not?” Mizu tells you, words tickling your skin. “He’ll do this, too…”

Her fingers dance at the hem of your robe about halfway down your calf, not quite reaching underneath but not entirely innocent, either. She waits until she feels the nod of your head in the crook of her neck, and then she’s diving in. It parts so easily, the thin fabric pooling under you. Your legs squeeze together when you feel her trace up your thighs, so slowly you wonder if it’s torture. Tugging at her sleeves, you try to pull her underclothes past her chest, wanting her bare. When you do, she’s descending down your body, tongue trailing down along with her. Her nails scrape down your sides, not deep enough to scratch but enough to leave red lines in their wake. They’d fade before the sun rose, but you’d cherish them all the same, fingers curving over the way they slightly raise your skin.

“Keep showing me,” You breathe out. “Do it like The Count would.”

She has half the mind to bite deep marks into your thighs– if Taigen ever reached down here, he’d be met with imprints of her teeth. Sucked into your skin until they blossom in every bold shade of red, purple, blue. Maybe then, she thought, he could no longer mindlessly devour you– you can’t, not after you had already been so lovingly tended to. Those memories would stick to every nerve ending of yours. You’d think of her during whatever mediocre sex Taigen would put you through. You’d think of the rush of intimacy you two shared. You’d call out her name. Mizu settles by dragging her tongue up your skin; starting from just above the inside of your knee to near the apex of your thighs.

“The Count will tell you that you’re soft, warm, and…” Her hands grab at the back of your knees, positioning them so they’re raised, your feet flat on the bed. Leaning her head against your knee, she sighs. “Breathtakingly beautiful.”

You’re leaning up on your elbows now, smiling down at her. Her mind is about to short circuit. You were real. Those precious eyes of yours gleaming with unbridled bliss. How badly had she wanted this without even knowing it? To sink down to your cunt, take your waiting clit into her mouth and taste you. To drink every drop of slick her tongue could. She wanted to hear you keen, to feel you grind your hips on her face. Worship the way you’d clench around her fingers– one, two, however many you’d beg for. Do anything for you that Taigen could never dream of doing. After all, Taigen loved you because he could ruin you; she wanted to ruin you because she loved you. The acknowledgement of that terrified her, her once feverish motions slowing to a halt. Her palms caress the backs of your thighs, tongue coming out to wet her lips as she contemplates what she’s doing. You were being so patient even as she hesitated.

“Would The Count be staring like this, too?” You quip, though your hand soothingly cards through her hair.

“Sorry,” She’s sheepish at your observation. “He would.”

When you mewl out as her lips meet your clit in a timid kiss, she knows she’s a goner.

Her ears ring with the sound of your shared moans the next morning, unable to get the angelic sounds to pass from her mind. She’s once again forced to sit in on your painting lessons with Taigen, the sight of the man making her sick to her stomach. Though, there’s also a twinge of pride knowing she had been the one to watch you come undone. You had fallen apart with such a loud, shuddering gasp– it had sent a quiver up the bumps of her spine, electrifying her. Taigen would never have the luxury of hearing it. Never feel the needy rock of your hips against his own, never delight in the deluge of your wetness soaking him. Even if it were only to happen once, she had already etched herself into you. Carved out a place for herself so that your bodies could mold seamlessly. Your fingers interlocked, legs coupled together as the heat of your arousal slotted against hers.

Mizu’s shaken out of her thoughts when she notices Taigen glide a hand up your arm. The discomfort on your face is apparent. Taigen had given her simple instruction, though– sit and be quiet. Even patronizingly gave her a pencil and some loose sheets of paper to follow along with the lesson. There’s just chicken scratch doodles and letters scrawled across it to quell her frustrations. His hands continue their journey over the dips of your hip.

“Stop.” You whisper, cringing away from his touch.

She wants him to leave you alone. Her pencil scratches harder, listening to you snivel while Taigen just chuckles. It’s not until your own pencil clatters to the floor as you yell, “Stop it!” that she stands up, towering over Taigen sitting behind you.

He lets out a cough, raising himself. He fishes around in his pocket for a while, digging out a coin and extending it to Mizu. “Go find some other job to do. You know?”

Taking one glimpse at you, she sees the trepidation in your expression. Your trembles, imperceptible to the naked eye unless trained for it. By now, she knew exactly what you looked like when you felt fear. Always because of your fiance, or Taigen. Tearing her eyes away from you, she takes the coin from his grasp. Your shoulders fall as she approaches the door. Behind her, there’s a hushed, stuttery breath. She knows it's you. Exhaling, she turns on her heel and stands in front of Taigen.

“My only job is to watch over her.” Mizu says, deliberately enunciating her words as she places the coin back into his palm.

She doesn’t miss the way your lip quirks up, the tension in your muscles easing as you let yourself relax.

Mizu’s chasing after Taigen as he follows just one of the dirt paths on the property. He’s kicking rocks, angrily muttering under his breath until he notices her presence. Taigen, with a furious grip, grabs her wrist and pulls her closer to him.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” He hisses callously. “I could’ve had her! She’s fully ripe. If you mess this up, we’re fucked!”

She struggles in his grasp, breathing labored from running after him. He doesn’t even give her a chance to respond before he’s continuing on his tirade.

“I have fought way too hard to escape that shitty village,” His skin burns red in exasperation. “I’m not letting you ruin it. Should I tell her what you really are? A lowly thief preying on her, huh?”

“Then I’ll just tell her the same thing about you,” Mizu spits. “The son of a poor farmer from the same poverty stricken village I am.”

“Mizu,” His fingers clasp harder around her arm as he talks calculatedly. “Think of everybody depending on you back home. What would your mother say if she knew you were destroying a golden opportunity such as this?”

Pulling out of his hold, she’s finally able to swat his hand away from her, panting. “Just… don’t go too far. She doesn’t have anyone on this earth, so if you scare her, she’ll never say yes. I’ll… I’ll work on it. And don’t ever fucking touch me again.”

She’s stomping away from him, leaving him behind to stew in his disbelief.

You’re sprawled out across the lounge chair in your room, Mizu on her knees at your feet. Her hands massage up the tired muscles of your calves, adoring your sleepy sighs of peace. You’ve got an elbow propped up on the chair’s arm, cheek in palm as you stare down at her.

“Miss,” Mizu breaks the silence. “You know, your nails have been growing longer since The Count got here. You could go far away with him. You’ve barely ever been past the manor’s yard. Wouldn’t that make you happy?”

“My fiance would follow me. My life has always been like this, so,” With a click of your tongue, you shrug. “I wouldn’t mind staying here… if you were here with me. That’d make me happy.”

Mizu gulps, trying to make her expression as neutral as possible. “The Count loves you. He wants to protect you. What could go wrong?”

“I don’t love him.”

“You do.”

You’re pulling your legs away from her, sitting up straight. Palms flat on the cushion under you, you angle yourself down to her eye level. “How can you tell?”

“You… when you look out the window waiting for your painting lessons, or when in your sleep you turn, or… your nails.” She’s mumbling, unable to look you in the eyes. They’re teary, glossed over with an anger she’s never seen from you before.

“What if I said I loved someone else?” You asked, ignoring the lump in your throat. “I don’t have anyone on this earth… would you really still tell me to marry him?”

She’s hesitant, but Mizu takes your calf into her hands again, looking up at you with optimistic eyes and a smile. She can fix this. Make you love Taigen the way you’re supposed to. “You will love him.”

And then you’re hiccuping, a sob escaping you. Those pearls of tears roll down your face with such speed it startles her. You’re pulling her up by her arms, moving her backwards to the door. She didn’t even know you had such strength in you. “Get out,” Your voice warbles, thick with grief. “Get out.”

“Wait, miss!” She’s collapsing backwards, falling onto her ass on top of the bedroll behind her.

The cold flame in your eyes doesn’t dwindle even as you see her chest rise and fall in quick bursts, the way her hands grip the sheet to stabilize herself. That heartless, indifferent demeanor is the last thing she sees before your door slams closed, bellowing footsteps retreating. Hand over her chest, she does her best to calm her hyperventilating. Lowering herself until she hits the floor, she feels something that she hasn’t in a long time– the bite of tears welling up. Outstretching her arms, she clamors around haplessly, searching for something. There, hidden in the corners of her belongings, was a wrapped up candy. The one she had used to kiss you.

If she closed her eyes and focused on the taste, maybe then she could find herself back in the recesses of her thoughts– in that world that was just the two of you.

a/n: part 4!! sorry for the longer update between 3 and 4. this is where the story starts getting like. really non-linear so bear with me as we go through the next parts of the plot sdlkfhsdf also don't worry there's more nsfw parts to come eventually, so even though it got cut off/implied now there will be more later <3

#mizu x reader #mizu x you #mizu #blue eye samurai x reader #blue eye samurai x you #bes x reader #bes x you

148 notes · View notes

oleander-nin · 7 months

Text

Horrortober Day 11- Mind Games(Yandere Rise Leo x Reader)

A/N, not important: Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: mention of alcohol and drugs, manipulation, hinted emotional abuse, yandere themes, dark themes

Words: 1693

Summary: You broke up with Leo, but he's not ready to give you up.

Your eyes drift across the sea of bodies, stepping back and to the side to avoid touching any of them. Coming here was a mistake, you felt. Sure, you wanted to get your mind off your recent breakup, but this was not the way to go. It was too loud, too bright, and everyone was already high or drunk and the many masks and faces of monsters and witches wasn’t helping. You grimace at the strong smell of the fruit punch in your hand, knowing it had been spiked at some point. If you found a garbage can, you’d throw it away before mistakenly taking a sip. You didn’t want to risk anything. You still had to drive home after all.

You search through the costumed college students for the friends that had insisted you come, promising it would be worth it and you’d have fun. You snort at the thought. It had barely been twenty minutes, and you already had a headache.

You feel your phone buzz in your pocket, catching your attention. Slipping away from the mass of bodies and giving up on the search, you pull out the vibrating device. Text after text was rolling though, different numbers flashing on your screen. You frown as you read the name rolling though, Leo’s pleading and angry texts blowing up your phone.

You unlock it and go to the conversation between the two of you, blocking his number once more. You were getting your number changed tomorrow, so dealing with him would only be another day. You were free of him, free of the pain and stress he caused, the sense of paranoia and fear he brought on. No more fights, no more of his obsession, no more being a prisoner to your own boyfriend.

You turn off your phone and slip it back into your pocket, doubt and guilt bubbling in your stomach. Part of you felt like you were over reacting. You knew he loved you, it was clear. But that love had gotten too much and you were starting to feel the danger brewing under his skin. The way he looked at you was once filled with love, his dark eyes swimming in happiness and hope for the future, but now they only carried the cold touch of possession and want. He still made his jokes, still treated you like you were his favorite thing in the world, but now it was… Dangerous. Like if you said the wrong thing or did something he didn’t like he would explode. He was a ticking time bomb you forgot how to defuse, and you didn’t want to be there when it finally set off.

You still loved him, the pang in your heart reminding you with every thought that flooded your brain, but being with him has gotten to be too dangerous, your mental health draining. He had started to cost you your friends, started to make you paranoid. You didn’t know how long it would go on before either of you snapped.

You gaze back into the crowd, bright lights attacking your view and making your vision swim. A group of ghosts floated by, the sheets over their heads billowing as they walked. It entertained you to see such a thing, your own costume having about the same effort as theirs. With the party so last minute, you hadn’t had time for a complex costume. You simply woke up this morning and put on a black shirt and sweats, topping the look off with a cat eared headband and three lines on either cheek with a sharpie.

Green skin in the crowd catches your eyes, your heart rate jumping as you tense. You search through the mass of people until you find what you thought you had seen. The ogre’s costume was a duller green than the one that caught your eyes, but you assumed a yellow or green light had been shining rather than the red covering them now. You lean against the wall, swirling your spiked drink. You were really thinking about taking a sip now, at least to get your mind to ease up. This was a party, you were supposed to be having fun, not thinking of Leo.

Pushing off the wall, you merge into the crowd once more to continue looking for your friends. You turn your head as you walk, looking out for the Sesame Street characters your friends said they came as. While scanning faces and masks, your eyes meet familiar ones, the deep onyx oh his eyes shining against the light. Your breath leaves you as you take in the green skin and pink crescents, his mask a stark contrast on his face.

You blink and he’s gone, a costumed student in his wake. You stare at the spot where you saw Leo, your hands shaking slightly. Did you accidentally take a sip of your drink? Were you losing it? In your confused haze, you let the crowd slowly push you back to the edges, your mind still reeling with the sights of your now ex. He couldn’t be here, he wouldn’t even know of this party. You stare at the floor, finally putting your drink down on a small table without a care. It wasn’t like you were going to pick it back up.

The feeling of three-fingered hands drifting over your waist makes your blood run cold and your muscles tense, one settling and the other crossing over to hang onto your wrist. His mouth presses against your ear, his voice a soft whisper full of unsaid fury. “Never thought you’d be in a party like this.”

You stand dumbly in his arms, unable to speak nor move. You gape at the wall in front of you, his strong hands guiding you towards the corner of the room and away from prying eyes. He seemed content with your silence, a smug smile on his face when you glanced back at him. You couldn’t help but feel terrified. Why was he here?

“Dance with me,” He purrs, his eyes flashing dangerously everytime you try to pull away. He never turns you around, keeping your back pressed against his chest. It was surreal, and your brain was stuck in an infinite loop of panic. You couldn’t help but feel unsafe, even in the arms of someone you once, and still do, loved. “It’s the least you could do after the fit you’ve been throwing. I can’t believe you’ve been ignoring me.”

You let him sway you both back and forth with the music, your voice stuck in your throat as you try to not pull away from instinct. His nails dig into your skin, a deadly smile on his lips. He hums along with the music, keeping your body pulled flush with his while he moves. He seemed content despite the circumstances, his hands holding you steady and close.

“Why are you here?” You ask quietly, your heart beating faster than it ever has before. The music was too loud still, the bass drumming the tune in your skull. You felt tired all of a sudden, the safety your brain had found in Leo over the years overriding the clear danger he presented. You wanted to pull away, to run and never look back, but his grip is firm. You weren’t getting out of this one.

“Because I’m your boyfriend, and I got worried when you didn’t answer my texts and calls.” He exaggerates a pout, jutting out his bottom lip as he looks down at you. He had grown over the years you knew him, yet still managed to keep the same jokester personality he claimed was the face of his brothers team. You scowl at his words, finally being knocked out of whatever trance you were in. You try to pull away, thrashing slightly in his grip.

“We broke up.” You remind, glaring at the mutant blending in with the fellow partygoers. Leo drops his pout, rolling his eyes as he adjusts his grip and moves you both closer to the wall.

“No, we didn’t.” He says with the certainty of a monarch sending a traitor to death. “You got upset, and said something you shouldn’t have. But we’re not breaking up.”

"Leonardo Hamato, let me go this instant." You demand, pushing harshly against his chest with your one free hand. His words pushed your brain into overdrive, the fear hitting you like bricks. You needed to leave. Now.

Leo smiles deviously, his eyes flashing as he dares you to do more. "Pulling out my full name now, are we? Looks like someone's getting serious."

His tone is no more than a deep purr, smoothing over the anger and hatred held in his heart. He wanted to slam you against the wall and choke you until you passed out, his steady hands twitching with greed. You were small compared to him now, his size nearly doubling since he was a teen. Not to mention the muscle mass he gained and the reflexes and experience he now had. You were but a lamb to the slaughter, and it was Leo who was the deciding factor on whether you made it out alive. Leo's smile widens. You were so lucky he loved you.

He squeezes your wrist and you can feel the bones start to strain under the pressure, threatening to crack. Your knees buckle at the pain, a small cry leaving your lips. He had never really hurt you before, and especially not while he was grinning. A small kiss is pressed to the back of your head, a quick squeeze being given as a warning.

“Come home with me now, quietly and on your own, or I snap both your legs and kill everyone here.”

He says this lightly, as if it was a small joke between friends. You feel tears well in your eyes. There was no way he wasn’t serious, the glint in his eye showing just how badly he wanted to show you what he was willing to do. You let out a sob, and crumple in his arms. There was nothing you could do but comply.

185 notes · View notes

yoonavii · 8 months

Text

Whispers of redemption

Mihawk x Reader

Amidst the ancient and somber halls of Shikkearu Castle, you find yourself standing before a large, ornate mirror that seems to hold the secrets of centuries past. Clad in an elegant yet mysterious attire, you pour yourself another glass of wine, the rich liquid shimmering like crimson firelight. As the wine's warmth spreads through you, the shadows seem to whisper their secrets, encouraging you to let down your guard. Your eyes flicker with a mixture of sadness and nostalgia as you gaze into the mirror. Memories of your past with Mihawk claw at your heart, memories you've kept hidden even from yourself.

Unbeknownst to you, the heavy entrance doors creak open, and the imposing figure of Dracule Mihawk enters the castle. His dark cloak billows behind him as he surveys the scene before him. The sight of you, a former partner and lover, standing in his castle is both unexpected and unsettling. Without a word, Mihawk moves towards you, his presence felt like a storm gathering on the horizon. You turn to face him, your eyes flashing with defiance as you clutch the glass of wine, an anchor in the tumultuous sea of emotions you're feeling.

Mihawk reaches out and gently takes the glass from your hand, his eyes piercing into yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. "You have no business here," he states, his voice carrying the weight of a thousand unsaid words. Your lips curve into a sardonic smile. "You don't get to decide that," you retort, your voice laced with bitterness. Mihawk's gaze doesn't waver as he looks at you, a mixture of exasperation and concern flickering in his eyes. "You're drunk," he states matter-of-factly. Your laughter rings out, hollow and bitter. "What's it to you, Mihawk? My drunkenness doesn't concern you."

As Mihawk's stern expression softens, he reaches out to touch your cheek gently. "It does concern me," he murmurs, his touch surprisingly gentle. "You were never one to drown your sorrows." Your gaze meets his, your defenses crumbling like a fragile dam. "You wouldn't understand, would you?" you whisper, your voice laced with a vulnerability that's rare for you. Mihawk's fingers linger on your cheek, his thumb brushing away an invisible tear. "Try me." A conflicted storm rages in your eyes as you finally admit what you've long kept hidden. "I loved you, Mihawk. I still do. But you... you were always so cold, so distant. And I couldn't bear it anymore. So, I left."

Mihawk's grip on the glass tightens slightly, his own emotions hidden behind a mask of controlled composure. "You never gave me the chance to explain." Your gaze drops to the floor, your voice barely above a whisper. "I was too hurt to hear your reasons." Silence envelops you both, a heavy curtain that seems to hold the weight of your shared history. Then, Mihawk's hand gently tilts your chin up, his eyes locking onto yours with a newfound determination. "Y/n," he says softly, using your name, "I won't pretend that the past can be erased. But I'm not as unfeeling as you think. There's more to me than what you saw."

Your breath catches as you look into his eyes, seeing a vulnerability you hadn't expected. Slowly, hesitantly, you reach out to touch his hand, your fingers intertwining with his. "I never stopped loving you," you admit, your voice trembling. "And I regret not giving us a chance." Mihawk's grip on your hand tightens, his gaze unwavering. "Then let's not dwell on the past. Let's see if there's a future for us." As the moonlight casts a gentle glow upon you both, you feel a glimmer of hope amid the ruins of your shared history. In that moment, the echoes of your love, once hidden, are finally spoken into existence, setting you on a path towards healing and reconciliation.

©𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐈— Any sign/evidence of plagiarism made from outside this name will be dealt with by whatever means necessary. Legal action may occur if non fanfiction works are plagiarized.

370 notes · View notes

soulcandi · 8 months

Text

𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 (𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬) | 𝐣𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 - 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞

synopsis: Widowed Jake Sully (sorry) gathers his four children to seek refuge in the isolated territory of the Metkayina clan. He warns them to be on their best behavior, but quickly realizes that it's himself he'll have to watch out for when he meets the eldest daughter of the clan leader.

warnings: jake's pov, alternating povs, mutual pining, written with afab!reader in mind, reader has a na'vi name.

a/n: cross-posted on ao3 and Tumblr <3 noticed some people on tumblr kinda ripping off my work so ig i need to establish dominance on this hellsite too. not sure if i vibe with the pov dividers yet, but they're there regardless.

word count: 2,092

masterlist, next chapter

The foreign white sands seemed to sink under my weight as I dismounted my Ikran. One arm held my youngest daughter against my hip while the other gestured for my three eldest children to stand down and lower their guards. I felt the weariness and apprehension radiating off of them, and understood it, but knew more in the ways of diplomacy than I ever thought to pass on.

The people emerged from their dwellings in droves, peering out into the open sands at the new arrivals from beyond the horizon. Tuk began to stir in my arms as I hoisted her up higher. My legs threatened to buckle underneath my body with every suggested movement. I hadn’t stepped foot on solid land since we first disembarked from the forest floor. I couldn’t afford to.

A low hum rose from the curious silence as the people’s wonder turned to fear. Who were these people? Why have they come to us?

I threw my head in every direction, searching through the many faces for that of Tonowari, who met the sky people in battle alongside me many years ago. He of all people would understand our dire situation. My stomach churned when out of a thousand faces, all melted into a rippling sea of coral blue, none made any move to come forward. Instead, I began to take notice of the pointed spearheads prodding out of the makeshift barricade. They were arming themselves.

A commotion behind me made me whip my head around just in time to catch Neteyam making a grab for the bow strapped to the saddle of his Ikran. “Tiftang,” I hissed. Stop it. If these people saw us as a threat in any capacity, it would be onto the next clan, then the next, and the next, until we came across someplace stupid enough to harbor five fugitives from the forest.

Neteyam met my eye and hesitated before lowering his arm helplessly to his side, a dejected look quickly masking the curiosity that I detected in him immediately after landing. Just as soon as the whispers ceased, they returned tenfold. When I looked back down the beach, it didn’t take long to establish why.

A single figure emerged from the wall of defensive clanspeople, stepping across the platform of pliant sand as if it were a marble runway. It was effortless in a way that should have made me uneasy but instead inspired a rush similar to adrenaline in my cold and wind-beaten body.

The very first thing I noticed was the flowing white cloth draped over your waist — a type of fabric I would have assumed was cotton back on Earth, but on Pandora, I couldn’t be too sure. A long slit ran all the way to your outer thigh and billowed like a sail on the open sea. Strings of beaded pearls twisted around both your legs like thin aquatic vines, and when you grew closer, I would soon notice how similar beads had been woven into the hair framing your face.

I had never seen anything quite like you – on my native planet or this one.

Swallowing, I lowered a wriggling Tuk to the sands where she quickly disappeared behind her sister. I intended to meet you in the middle of the small peninsula, but as soon as I found the strength to move, you had already come within a few feet of where we landed.

There was something so regal in the way you composed yourself, with a sense of majesty that commanded the attention of all those around you, including myself. Anyone could have whispered in my ear just then and told me you were something ethereal — something larger than life — and I would have had no choice but to believe them.

I immediately moved to make myself smaller, afraid of coming off as too imposing. Before I earned the respect of the Omaticaya, I was the oaf, the fool who didn’t consider his own size before running blindly into conflict. I refused to inherit that same legacy here.

Touching two fingers against my temple, I brought them down in a wide arch away from my body. “Oel ngati kameie.” I see you.

Boy, did I ever.

You met my display with a bow of your own, bringing two fingers to the space between your eyes. Your wrist was cluttered with bracelets woven from strong green fibers and I studied you shamelessly, assuming your eyes were closed when in reality, you were studying me back beneath your curtain of long eyelashes.

You heard them well before you ever saw them — the mighty flying beasts whose wings beat up the waters flying low over the edge of the reef. You were raised on stories of the Ikran and of the Toruk who ruled over them in the forest regions. But more often, you were ensnared by tales of Toruk Makto who fought alongside your father in the war against the sky people — those who hunted your tulkun siblings over the horizon.

You were barely able to hold your own in those times of great sorrow, buried in your studies as you learned the ways of the Tsahìk – the role you were blessed to one day inherit from your mother. You long outgrew the audience of the village storyteller, but you had to have been blind not to recognize who now stood in your presence, bowed to offer you his deepest respects.

“Oel ngati kameie,” he spoke, voice low and tinted with a guttural edge. His eyes, a startling yellow that rivaled the burnfibers that grew in the underbrush around the clan border, moved not once from yours.

Your face began to burn from the heat of his gaze – evaporating whatever seawater still lingered on your cheeks from your morning swim. A man who not once in his life reduced himself to beg was now pleading before you, empty hand still outstretched as if for you to take.

In an attempt to hide the effect he was having on you, you quickly moved to fulfill your end of the gesture by touching your own two fingers to your temple. It was only polite by way of your people. Before you could part your lips and repeat his own words back to him, however, you heard furious footfalls upon the sand and staggered backward as your brother Ao’nung appeared out of nowhere and drew you close behind him.

“We have no peace with these forest people,” he seethed, turning back to glower at you before glaring straight forward at your unexpected guests. You were six cycles his elder, but no one would ever guess it by how closely he mirrored your father in both leadership and combat. Despite this, Ao’nung was undeniably a child; a child who did not yet wield the power of clan leader.

Your brother had far to go in his studies, but if he were to become Olo’eyktan one day like he so planned, the village was better for it.

You watched as Toruk Makto — Jake’sully — drew his ears flat against his head like a wounded animal. Only then did he finally drop his hand and a wave of regret washed through you for not showing him his owed respect when you had the chance.

Planted all around him was a small army of children, all cowering at his side. Two boys looked around Ao’nung’s age, or close. Beside them, bearing no signs of fear, only weariness, a girl with choppy black hair who reminded you very little of your sister stood before an even smaller child who was too far hidden behind the others for you to see clearly.

“That is Toruk Makto,” you whispered in warning, placing a hand on your brother’s shoulder. He huffed at your display of seniority but did not back down. “Ao’nung.”

“His title makes no difference to me,” he scoffed. “Outsiders are unwelcome.”

Pursing your lips, you stepped back. “Where is father?”

Any efforts you could have made to remedy the situation proved to be in vain as both your parents surfaced from the flood of villagers standing at the shoreline. Neither of them looked as forgiving as you might have hoped to be.

You could stand up to either of your siblings in a heartbeat, and you’ve done it a thousand times before, but both you and your brother knew better than to test them. Especially now, when human gunfire could be heard over the horizon in the deadly stillness of night.

Stepping aside, you allowed the Olo’eyktan and Tsahìk past so they could cast their own judgment upon the forest refugees.

There was a flurry of mixed reactions when Tonowari announced to his people that my family and I would be allowed into the village. More whispers, which were expected, but no thunderous applause. Definitely no applause.

The Metkayina looked down upon us like one would look upon a child struggling to stand, but with pity where hope should have been found. I could only swallow the last of my shame and give all the thanks I could muster.

“Dad?” Tuk tugged on my tunic, wet with ocean spray and sweat from several days’ travel. I lifted her once again over my hip, using my free hand to unhook the leather satchel that hung from the saddle of my Ikran. Kiri and the boys watched me closely, waiting for the go-ahead to do anything but stand there rigidly.

I nodded toward their Ikran. All three had been locked in a conversation entirely their own, comprised of clicks and caws I couldn’t even begin to understand. Not like Kiri miraculously could. “Get your things,” I commanded. No time to sit around and sunbathe. Not while Ronal could easily whip her head back around and overpower her mate’s decision to allow us refuge, sending us right back out into open seas with nothing but the last of our rations and a week’s worth of exhaustion.

They snapped to it immediately, grabbing the netted sacks that held the last remaining fragments of their previous lives and dismissing their Ikrans to the skies. I followed suit before turning to face the village, our home for the foreseeable future, for a final time.

Everyone else had long since wandered off, returning to their duties just as Tonowari ordered. Those that remained sprinkled across the sands were doing a half-assed job of pretending there weren’t five foreign faces walking amongst them. They watched from the shadows of their straw buildings, or from underneath the surface of their crystal clear waters.

But you?

You were standing right where I left you, hands clutched together in front of your body with a gentle smile pulling at your lips. I tried not to replay your first impression of me in my head for fear of ruining a second. I see you, I repeated to myself in the furthest reaches of my mind. I see you, I see you, I see you.

“May the great mother look upon our meeting with favor,” you beamed like you had been waiting your entire life to roll out the welcome wagon. Considering the clan’s attitude toward outsiders, this was likely the case. “I will show you to our village. May I?”

The last of your words were directed solely to Neteyam, who was struggling to haul both his and Kiri’s luggage over his arm. He froze instantly in the presence of your warm smile and did nothing to deny you as you stepped forward and took his bag into your hands.

You made a point to greet each of the children with a welcoming smile, even going as far as to offer Tuk a private giggle before meeting my gaze with a neutral, diplomatic air. “Right this way, please.”

A true leader in the making.

If I stopped to ponder it long enough, I could force myself to remember you. In my first tour of the neighboring clans, when Toruk Makto was called upon to unite them against the sky people, you had been there. Hidden behind Ronal, I remember your eyes as clear as day. They were your father’s eyes, though brighter and filled with hope rather than wise resignation.

When your back was turned, I watched my eldest son gulp and shift his remaining bag higher over his shoulder. Lo’ak snorted and socked him roughly in the arm before taking off after his sisters, who hounded close behind your retreating figure as if it were a beacon in the dark.

#atwow #jake sully x reader #jake sully #atwow x reader #avatar 2 #avatar x reader #avatar #avatar fanfiction #candywrites #dreaming (of all the possibilities)#dreaming

158 notes · View notes

crypticdesire · 5 days

Text

you, me, and the sea are meant to be

MINORS DNI

dom amab reader x yandere!mermaid rook (around 3.5k words)

cw: rook is a little insane, yandere behavior, almost causes reader to drown, rook has an ovipositor and cloaca, ovipositioning, mention of baby trapping, face fucking, ...mmmm i think thats all....

You couldn’t decide if it was a good idea to come out here today. Wind mixed with briny mist causes your shirt to billow out away from your skin, and your pants slowly become damp from the cool wet rock you’re sitting on. Despite this you can’t help but enjoy looking out across the ocean on an overcast day, the muted grey tones of the sky and sea lulling you into a state of serenity.

Though there are some certain shades of vibrant colors you wouldn’t mind seeing. You stare intently at the water directly below you lapping gently against the low sides of the rock, a growing temptation to dip your feet into the water. It would no doubt be cold and you might get sick, but ever since you met them it was like the water was calling out to you.

Growing up on the hill above this rocky shore, you had spent plenty of time playing in the ocean, but now when the salty water met your skin it felt like you were being wrapped in some form of mystic energy. You liked to think that the sea acknowledged your presence and somehow made them aware of it too, although you were sure it was a foolish thought you should never voice to anyone else. Still, you find yourself allowing the small waves to lightly splash against your shins as you sway your feet in the murky water below you.

After a while goosebumps cover your skin, and you decide it’s probably time to accept they won’t be here today, and make the trek back up the steep rocky path that almost no one but yourself found worth the trouble to use to access a shore that seemed to be more rock than sand.

Just in time to stop you, however, something grabs your ankles causing your heart to leap out of your chest, half of a scream stuck as a lump in your throat.

Damn it. You should have gotten used to this by now, but at least your reactions aren’t as dramatic as they were before. You don’t even pull your feet out of the water as the hold on you is released, waiting for Rook’s head to pop out of the water. He was the only one out of the three that ever tried to catch you off guard like this, claiming it was a great source of amusement. And just like usual he has a coy smile on his face when he surfaces.

“Oh, mon joyau terrestre. I told you to always be prepared for the unexpected when you venture into our murky depths, non?” He casually adjusts the wet strands of his bangs before resting his elbows on the rock you sit on. His vibrant tail with a mix of purple and red scales bobs on the surface of the water, a tug of awe still pulling at you despite how many times you’ve seen it.

“It is really unexpected if you do it every time?”

“Perhaps not, and yet you still make yourself vulnerable every time” His sigh is not one of curiosity or disappointment but fondness. When you ask him about Vil and Epel, his smile remains but his eyes slightly narrow.

“My beauty isn’t enough to satiate you, mon joyau terrestre?” He rests his head on one of his hands, batting his pale lashes that still have small droplets of water on them.

“You know your company is always enough for me” You nudge his bare shoulder with your knee. “I was just wondering if I should expect someone else since you’re always the first to arrive”

“Maybe I just can’t break the cold surface of the water fast enough to feel the warm embrace of your smile” He gives you a toothy grin, a smile filled with more sharp teeth than you ever thought a mermaid would have. Rook let your curious fingers touch them once, maybe a little too eagerly, and you found them to be razor sharp just like the talons on his hands. Natural features for an omnivorous creature that lived in the depths of the ocean where they weren’t at the top of the food chain they assured you. But something was alluring about the juxtaposition between their delicate beauty and threatening features. A tingle went through you each time your skin was touched by one of Rook’s talons.

As if noticing where your attention has gone, Rook adds to his poetic words. “And scope out any threats of course”

Looking at him, it was hard to believe anything would faze him; however, from what they’ve told you their habit is to always avoid the dangers of land and its humans. Why they chose to continually interact with you is a question that goes unanswered. Migrating to your tiny corner of the world every summer maybe meant they didn’t fear a person they perhaps watched as a child stumble on the rocks and talk to any little creatures they came across. You met them as an adult a year ago, but Rook always talked like he already knew you.

“But to answer your question, the others won’t be joining us today. Vil has some matters to attend to, and Epel has been dragged along with him as punishment for going into the waters of the snatchers” You know he’s talking about the area the local fisherman frequent. “Just insists on staying in trouble I suppose” he sighs insincerely.

“I came today to give you something” he continues, taking a chain off his neck you didn’t notice before. As he pulls it out of the water you see the gold chain holds a jewel in a deep shade of purple. You aren’t familiar enough with jewels to know what it is, but it’s in a beautiful teardrop shape.

After dropping it into your hand, Rook pulls himself up so he can sit on the rock beside you. He insists on putting it on for you, your eyes intently studying his blue ones as he does. His touch lingers at your neck, talon grazing your skin as he follows the chain from your neck to your chest. You try to subtly adjust yourself to hide the fact the tingle has traveled down below your waist as well.

“I like there being something close to you that makes you think of me. Something close to your heart…” he trails off voice sounding mesmerized as the back of his hand caresses the place over your heart. He stares at the spot with yearning, almost like he wants to caress your actual heart.

You two had undeniably gotten closer this summer, this not being the first time he has visited you alone. You’ve learned that mermaids’ forms of affection, even platonic affection, centered around physical touch. But Rook’s touch had begun to feel different at some point, something more intimate about it that too easily stirred a desire in you. Unable to resist these urges, one day you two crossed the line of what could be considered platonic and never had any regrets.

You expect him to kiss you now, but any evidence of lust is gone in an instant as his expression morphs into one of pure delight, asking you to swim with him. Despite your reservations about the cold water before, it takes little convincing from Rook to coax you out of your clothes and into the water. You remind yourself that the end of summer will come and so will your time with Rook. Of course, your undergarments don’t help keep you warm at all, but Rook’s playful nature distracts you just enough so you’re not unconformable as your body adjusts to the cooler temperature.

“I love watching you swim mon joyau terrestre! The rhythmic movement of your legs is so adorable” he gushes. He dips underwater, and you feel his fingertips caress the length of your leg, from ankle to upper thigh. You tense when that touch extends to your clothed cock, that tingling sensation returning. When Rook resurfaces, however, he doesn’t acknowledge the intimate touch and instead engages you in more of his games.

After a while you give your body a reprieve, the sea calm enough to float on your back. You bask in the peaceful quiet, your ears submerged underwater and Rook idly playing with your fingers. A muffled sound tells you he’s starting to say something so you ask him to repeat it, slightly turning your head so one ear is above the water.

“Que c’est beau” he says “It’s like you were meant for the ocean. Such a shame you need air and swimming is so exhausting for you. I wish you could stay in the sea swimming with me all day” he pouts.

“Even with my pruney fingers” you joke, waggling your wrinkled fingers in front of him.

“I’ll take you pruney fingers and all” he gently presses a kiss to each fingertip. “If you could, would you go with me? Let the ocean be your home?” You smile at the thought.

“It’s certainly appealing” you reply not wanting to dwell too long on the impossible.

“I want that.” His grip tightens on your hand. “I want it so bad” Not knowing what to say, you let the quiet return, both your ears back underwater. Rook’s hold is still tight but you don’t mind. You don’t mind that is until he uses it to drag you underwater.

At first, you think it’s one of his games aimed at getting you to start swimming, but his grip on your wrist is ironclad as he pulls you deeper than expected. You try to grasp his wrist with your other hand to let him know you want him to stop, but he doesn’t even look at you. You don’t know what his goal is, but the surprise dive gave you little time to fill your lungs with air, and you close your eyes struggling to hold your breath.

All of a sudden he stops and lets go of your wrist. You open your eyes again to reveal the blurry image of his face smiling back at you, the momentum of the dive causing you to bump into his chest. You point to the surface, indicating you need air, and begin to kick your legs, catching a glimpse of Rook’s smile morphing into a frown. You don’t make it very far, however, his hands grasping you again. This time, he wraps his arms around both your arms and torso, holding you close to his chest. You can feel him nuzzle his face into your neck, but your body has gone into survival mode and you struggle against him. With little control over your arms, you desperately kick your legs, feeling them make weak contact with his tail.

Panicking you forcibly bite down on his shoulder without thinking about the consequences, his surprise loosening his grip around you. You immediately push yourself away from him and try to ignore the burning sensation in your lungs as water enters them. You can’t gauge how far away you are from the surface, so you just continue swimming. Your thoughts become unclear, the pain in your chest ebbing away but hopefully, the movements of your legs haven’t slowed. If only you could reach the surface. Black spots float between you and the surface. You think you’re still swimming.

You feel slightly detached from your body, but you feel the cool sensation of air as your hand breaks through the surface. When your face surfaces you flap your arms wildly looking for something to hold on to, coughing and spluttering as you barely keep your face above water. Your limbs are growing heavier and you can feel your body giving out when a sudden force propels you out of the water. Your mind is slow to catch up, but a few moments later you feel the rough surface of a rock beneath you, your insides burning as you violently cough up water.

You feel weak. Your body. Your breathing. Your ability to think and process what happened. All weak.

Eyes closed, you try to focus on your breathing first, opening your eyes again when you have it steady. You’re only able to squint at first, your eyes stinging and sensitive to the light even with it being overcast, but you can eventually open them wider to see the blurry form of Rook sitting beside you. You expect yourself to have some kind of reaction. You still can’t think clearly, but he almost drowned you, right? Do you even let yourself think that he was trying to drown you?

If Rook sees that you’ve come to, he doesn’t acknowledge it, simply humming as he gently traces circles into your thighs with his fingertip. Your eyes drift to his shoulder, the place where you bit him already becoming a bruise.

“You-“ your voice comes out hoarse and can’t even say another word before you go into another coughing fit. It at least gets Rook to talk to you.

“That was unexpected, non?” he softly smiles. He waits patiently for you to respond.

“I could..” You take in a shallow breath. “..have died” Your voice is quiet, not holding any of the rage or fear that would be logical to feel.

“At least a dead body doesn’t need air” he giggles. Your chest becomes tight like it’s feeling with water again. You try to discern the emotion behind his eyes, but find that you’re unable to do so.

“Relax,” he squeezes your thigh affectionately. “I’m only joking. Of course, I prefer you alive. I get to enjoy you more that way. I thought about it and in the ocean, the skin of your dead body would peel away too quickly, and I’d hate to share pieces of you with bottom feeders.” His mirthful laughter can’t erase the truthful tone of his words.

“Plus, I’d miss the way your body reacts to my touch” he looks at you through his lashes, the fingertip that was formerly on your thigh now rubbing the length of your cock over your soaked underwear. You feel the slightest tingling sensation, but you’re not even sure you could get hard right now. But you also don’t ask Rook to stop.

“Are you in pain?” He questions, which is a question you have to take a moment to think about, still not feeling completely connected to your body. The worst feeling right now is the painful raw feeling inside your throat and nose from having the salt water in your body. Your limbs feel weak and heavy, but you’re sure the soreness will hit you with its full force tomorrow.

“Just a bit” you decide to answer, voice still raspy.

“Do you want me to make you feel better?” He teases the band of your underwear. The logical part of your mind, though still dull, is saying that you should get away from him as soon as you can, but could your weak body really make it up that steep hill right now? He did admit he prefers you alive, so you can’t be in danger anymore, right?

You end up nodding your head, and Rook beams at you, immediately moving to remove your underwear. You let him do all the work, of course, watching every movement of his hands as he tosses your underwear to the side and wraps them around your flaccid cock.

He lets his spit drop onto your tip, spreading it down your length as he strokes you. He kisses your tip before taking you into his mouth, making sounds of pleasure as he tries to take you fully into his mouth. He’s careful with his teeth, but you feel a gentle scrape on the underside of your dick occasionally, causing your thighs to tremble.

His tongue is warm as it roams your cock, and you can’t help but let out a moan of pleasure when he gives the same attention to your balls, sucking on them gently after he’s licked their surface. There’s the smallest tug in the pit of your stomach to let you know his ministrations are working. You even lift your hips a bit to push your cock deeper into his mouth when he takes it between his lips again. Spurred on by your actions and the potential of getting you hard, Rook pleasures you with more fervor, hands circling the base of your cock while he bobs his head taking the rest of you.

As you become more vocal, Rook becomes more sloppy, his drool coating your cock as he continues to suck you off. He whimpers when he feels your hand grasp his hair and tries to deep-throat you again. You attempt to thrust into his mouth again, but his lips leave you too soon, hand rubbing your tip again.

“Your mouth doesn’t deserve a break” you grunt using your grip on his damp hair to force him back down on your cock. You feel him moan around your cock as you bob his head up and down your length, and then you bury his face in your pubic hair as you try to hit the back of his throat. He doesn’t resist you so you continue to pull his head up a bit before roughly forcing it back down until he’s coughing and spluttering like you were earlier.

“I’m close,” you tell him when you let go of his hair.

“I want to taste you in my mouth” he pants, fondling your balls with one hand as he goes back down to swirl his tongue around your tip. He then takes your tip into his mouth sucking as he strokes your base with his hand, and it doesn’t take long for you to approach your climax, hand twisting itself back into Rook’s hair as you come into his mouth. He whines, sucking you harder, and he doesn’t take you out of his mouth until he’s sure you’re done.

“Mmm. I love the taste of you mon joyau terrestre” he looks almost delirious as he takes his thumb to push some cum that leaked out onto his bottom lip back into his mouth, eyes fluttering as he savors the taste.

“I can’t seem to control myself around you” he keens, laying down beside you, and you prop yourself up on your side so that you can watch his hands trail down his abdomen and go to the scales of his tail. His fingertips begin to gently massage his half-extended ovipositor. Adjacent to that is his slit, which you wouldn’t even know how to locate if it wasn’t for him showing you a couple of weeks ago. He let you slip your fingers into his squishy insides and explore his cloaca just as eagerly as he let you explore his teeth.

You trace your finger along the edge of the slit now, causing Rook to whimper and beg you to touch him. He whines as you dip your finger just over the edge, fingertips roaming his cloaca before teasing his entrance.

“Please” he begs again, still massaging his ovipositor and you push the tip of your finger in, watching Rook’s expression as his eyes roll backward in pleasure. You wiggle your finger in the wet warmth of his entrance just in the slightest to stretch him out a bit.

“Ah you feel perfect inside me” he praises as you continue stretching him. “I wish you could fertilize my eggs, so I know you’d have a reason to see me again. I need you to be here every migration season waiting for me” His tail squirms as you push the rest of your finger into him. He’s so wet now, that his insides make a squelching sound as you thrust two fingers into him.

The end of his tail firmly slaps the surface of the water a few times, back arching off the rock as he climaxes. You slip your fingers out of him as he quickly turns on his side and watch as he gasps in pleasure letting out a series of three eggs. After he’s done he gently caresses the eggs with his fingers, looking up at you with adoration.

“Que c’est beau” he smiles leaning forward to brush his nose against yours, and you hold your breath until he relaxes his forehead against yours. Heat rises to your cheeks at the intimate mermaid gesture he’s shown you before, that heat being one of a burning need to have more. He seems prepared for the moment when your lips meet his, tongue probing your mouth, movements much more natural to him now than the first time you kissed.

“I know you can’t fertilize these eggs,” he says sadly when you pull apart. “But you will always wait for me, non? I want you all for myself all the time, but the sea doesn’t seem to want to grant that wish." he sighs wistfully.

"The only way I leave you is if I know you’re always thinking of me. Promise you’ll never take that necklace off” his eyes shine with desperate need as he places a hand on your shoulder, talons slightly digging into your skin. You weren’t sure what your life would be like in a year, but given what happened earlier today there was only one right answer.

“I promise”

#twisted wonderland #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt #dom reader #cw oviposition #cw yandere

44 notes · View notes