#request open

18+ content! Read at your own risk! English isn't my first language, please bear with me!

Warnings- Sex, Pregnancy, Minor mentions of blood!

BD Izuku- That knows you're not on the pill but still nuts deep in your sweet cunny. He refused to pull out after being sucked in by your wet cunt, bouncing on his hard dick.

BD Izuku- Who knows, you'll get pregnant if you don't take a contraceptive in 72 hours, but it makes sure to distract you from even thinking about it.

BD Izuku- That gets on his knees to pray that you become pregnant with his baby. Who's totally in love with the idea of you with a swollen tummy, waddling around like a lost kitten.

BD Izuku- Who wants multiple kids, even after your first 4? He begs you for more and more. Reminding you how cute they are during their newborn phase, and refusing to bring up the crying phase.

BD Izuku- Who acts surprised and shocked to hear you were pregnant. You set up a whole surprise present for him. He had to act shocked, as if he never knew.

BD Izuku- Who insists you get married and proposes with a big ring. He insists you get married as soon as possible, so that you have his last name before the baby.

BD Izuku- That doesn't doubt himself for a second when it comes to him being a father.

BD Izuku- That does anything and everything for you. Keeping his ringer sound loud, in case you need to call him to tell him your sweet baby boy is coming.

BD Izuku- Will never be a girl, Dad. He'll only ever have boys. (They'll all look like him, too. Same hair, same face, and eyes, same nose.)

BD Izuku- Who worships your stretch marks, and deflated belly after birth. Making sure to praise you through the birth of your baby, happy that you're safe.

BD Izuku- That would pick you in the case of an emergency. If it were life or death between you and your baby, bleeding out. He'd choose you in a heartbeat.

BD Izuku- That makes sure to wait the WHOLE 6 weeks before sex, never asking once for intimate time. Being sure that you're the one to initiate sex after birth, not him.

BD Izuku- Who makes sure you take your vitamins, and stands as the present parent for your already born children. Making sure the boys don't bother you, making sure they thank you for everything you do for them.

Part 2??

After meeting you in secret near the reef—alone, injured, and carrying the name you were born under—Neteyam keeps coming back until “just checking” turns into real love. When he finally brings you to his family, the Sullys don’t trust you because you’re Varang’s daughter, no matter how hard you try to prove you’re on their side. Neteyam x Fem!Reader

Word count: ~ words

Chapter Contains: ◆ high tension ✧ light fluff and ❖ intimate moments previous chapter: read. next chapter: read

The first thing you learned about healing in the reef was that the ocean had opinions.

It didn’t let you forget your body. It didn’t let you disappear into sleep the way the ashlands did, where exhaustion could swallow you whole and spit you out when it felt like it.

Here, even resting felt alive.

You woke to soft noises: the distant hush of waves folding over themselves, woven mats shifting, the quiet clack of beads when someone moved. Your side throbbed with a steady, dull ache—less like fire now, more like a bruise that kept remembering it was a wound.

For a moment, you didn’t move. You just breathed and counted.

One.

Two.

Three.

The air smelled like salt and wood and something clean you weren’t used to.

Then you remembered.

Varang’s hand in your braid.

Her voice in your ear—my daughter.

Neteyam’s hiss cutting through everything like a promise.

Your fingers twitched against the mat, and your breath caught.

At the entrance, a shadow shifted.

Neteyam was still there.

He’d changed positions at some point—one knee bent, back against the post, bow laid across his lap like a part of him. His head was tipped slightly forward, eyes half-lidded the way hunters looked when they were pretending to rest but weren’t.

You stared at him for a long second, the weight of it pressing behind your ribs.

He hadn’t left.

The realization was warm and terrifying all at once, like holding something precious while you still expected it to be taken from you.

Neteyam’s eyes opened fully, locking onto yours immediately, like he’d felt your gaze.

“You’re awake,” he said quietly.

Your throat felt dry. “Yeah.”

He stood with careful, controlled movement, crossing to you in two steps. His hand hovered over your bandage like he was afraid of touching wrong.

“Pain?” he asked.

You let out a breath that sounded almost like a laugh. “A little.”

Neteyam’s jaw tightened like he didn’t like the word little because it still meant yes. He looked down at your side, then back up to your face.

“You should not have run out,” he said, voice low.

You braced for anger.

But he didn’t sound angry.

He sounded… shaken. Like the memory of seeing you on the sand was still sitting under his skin.

You swallowed. “I know.”

Neteyam’s eyes flicked over your face like he was checking if you were real. “Why did you?”

Your fingers curled against the mat. The honest answer tasted like ash.

“Because if she wanted something,” you whispered, “it was me.”

Neteyam’s nostrils flared. “And you think offering yourself would stop her?”

You looked away. “I think… if she didn’t get me, she would take someone else just to punish me.”

Silence stretched.

You expected him to argue.

Instead, Neteyam sat beside you, slower than usual, like he was trying to keep his movements gentle on purpose.

“You don’t get to carry all of that alone,” he said.

Your throat tightened. “I’ve been carrying it alone my whole life.”

Neteyam’s gaze didn’t waver. “Not anymore.”

Something in you wanted to believe him so badly it almost hurt.

You forced a small, careful breath. “You say that like you can decide it.”

Neteyam’s mouth twitched, but his eyes stayed serious. “I can decide what I do.”

Then, quieter: “And I decide to stay.”

He said it like it wasn’t romantic.

Like it was a fact.

Like it was law.

Your chest squeezed. “You already did.”

Neteyam’s eyes dropped to your bandage again, and his hand finally moved—two fingers brushing the edge of the woven cloth with a touch so careful it made your stomach twist.

His voice came rougher. “When she cut you… I—”

He stopped.

Like the sentence wasn’t safe to finish.

You watched his jaw work, watched him swallow the emotion down the way warriors did.

You reached out before you could overthink it and touched his wrist.

He went still.

The contact was simple. Barely anything.

But you felt him react like you’d wrapped your whole body around him.

“It’s not your fault,” you whispered.

Neteyam looked up.

His eyes were dark and bright at the same time.

“I know it’s hers,” he said tightly. “But she did it because she wanted to show me something.”

Your fingers tightened. “She wanted to break you.”

Neteyam’s breath left him slow. “She won’t.”

You held his gaze. “She’ll try again.”

Neteyam didn’t deny it.

He just leaned closer until his forehead touched yours, steady and quiet.

“Then she meets me again,” he murmured. “Every time.”

Your eyes burned.

You didn’t cry.

Not because you weren’t close.

Because crying felt like giving her something.

Instead, you pressed your forehead back to his and let yourself be held there—small, still, alive.

Outside, the village moved like it was trying not to look at you.

Even after the attack, even after the blood, the distrust didn’t vanish like smoke.

It shifted.

Some of it sharpened—fear that you were a beacon, a crack in their defenses.

Some of it softened—uneasy respect, the kind people gave when someone bled and didn’t run.

But nobody forgot.

You felt it every time you stepped out into the light.

Eyes that lingered too long.

Whispers that stopped when you turned your head.

Hands that hovered near weapons out of habit.

You understood them.

That didn’t make it easier.

On the second day after you woke, Ronal came to see you.

You heard her before you saw her—her voice carrying outside the hut, sharp and clear like she was used to being obeyed.

Neteyam straightened instantly.

You tried to sit up and immediately hissed when your side protested.

Neteyam’s hand landed on your shoulder. “Don’t.”

“I can’t look weak,” you muttered.

Neteyam’s eyes flashed. “You are injured. That is not weakness.”

Ronal stepped inside like the hut belonged to her, her presence filling the space the way storms filled the horizon. Tonowari followed behind her, calmer but no less powerful, and Tsireya trailed them with wide eyes that kept darting to you like she wasn’t sure what she was allowed to feel.

Ronal’s gaze landed on your bandage first.

Then your face.

Then Neteyam sitting too close.

Her mouth tightened.

“So,” Ronal said, voice clipped. “This is the ash-blood girl.”

Your stomach dropped at the words, even though you’d heard worse.

You forced your chin up. “My name is (Y/N).”

Ronal’s eyes narrowed. “I did not ask your name. I asked what you are.”

Neteyam’s body went rigid beside you.

Tonowari lifted a hand slightly—not a command, but a reminder. “Ronal.”

She didn’t look at him. “Our children were attacked,” she snapped, eyes still on you. “Our home was tested. And now we have Varang’s blood sleeping under our roof.”

You swallowed. “I didn’t bring her here.”

Ronal’s lip curled. “And yet she came.”

Tsireya’s eyes flicked to Neteyam, then back to you. Something soft moved across her face—pity, maybe. Or recognition.

Tonowari stepped forward, voice steady. “We know you warned them.”

You nodded once. “Because I knew the smell.”

Ronal’s gaze sharpened. “You know her patterns.”

“Yes.”

“And you know what she wants.”

Your throat tightened. “She wants me.”

Ronal’s smile was humorless. “Then you are a danger.”

The words landed hard.

Neteyam shifted like he wanted to stand between you and her, but Tonowari’s voice cut in gently.

“Or,” Tonowari said, “she is a key.”

Ronal snapped her eyes to him. “Tonowari—”

He didn’t waver. “Varang does not come for nothing. If she is willing to reveal herself at our waters, it means she believes she can take something.”

Ronal’s jaw clenched. “And you think we should keep the bait?”

Your stomach turned.

Neteyam’s voice came out low and dangerous. “She is not bait.”

Ronal’s eyes flicked to him. “You speak as if you own her safety.”

Neteyam’s jaw tightened. “I speak as if she is a person.”

Silence hit the hut.

Tsireya’s gaze widened slightly.

Tonowari’s expression shifted—something like approval flickering beneath his calm.

Ronal’s eyes were bright with anger. “Person or not, she is a risk.”

You forced the words out before your fear could stop you. “Then let me prove I’m worth it.”

Ronal stared.

“Prove?” she echoed.

You swallowed through the ache in your side. “Let me work. Let me learn. Let me… earn whatever you call this.”

You gestured weakly at the hut, at the village beyond.

“Protection,” Tonowari said quietly.

Your throat tightened. “Then let me earn that.”

Ronal’s gaze held yours for a long, cutting moment.

Then she said, “If you betray us, the sea will not hide you.”

You didn’t flinch.

“I know,” you whispered. “It never did.”

Ronal studied you like she was trying to find Varang in your face and failing.

Finally, she turned slightly toward Neteyam.

“And you,” she said, voice sharp. “If your heart blinds you, it will drown you.”

Neteyam’s eyes didn’t move. “It won’t.”

Ronal scoffed like she didn’t believe him.

Then she left.

Tonowari paused at the entrance, glancing back. “Heal,” he said to you, and it wasn’t kindness exactly—but it wasn’t cruelty either.

Tsireya lingered for half a breath longer than her parents.

Her gaze met yours, and she said softly, “If you need… help learning, I can.”

You blinked, caught off guard.

Before you could answer, she ducked out after them.

When the hut was quiet again, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.

Neteyam was still staring at the entrance, jaw tight.

“You didn’t have to argue with her,” you whispered.

Neteyam turned, eyes sharp. “Yes, I did.”

You swallowed. “You’re going to make them hate me more.”

Neteyam’s voice dropped, fierce in a quiet way. “Let them hate me too.”

Your chest squeezed. “Neteyam—”

He leaned closer, foreheads almost touching again, and his voice softened just enough to hurt.

“I am not letting them turn you into a thing,” he murmured. “Not in this home.”

Something in you cracked anyway.

Not into tears.

Into something worse.

Hope.

They didn’t let you train with weapons yet.

Jake’s rules held, even after the attack.

But Jake did let you work.

He gave you tasks that were simple on the surface—help mend nets, carry woven baskets, learn the reef routes. But you recognized the truth under it: Show us what you do when no one is watching.

So you did.

You woke early even when your side ached.

You helped the older Metkayina women twist fibers and weave. Your fingers were clumsy at first, but you didn’t complain when they corrected you, and you didn’t snap when they muttered under their breath about ash-blood hands touching sea-thread.

You carried water until your arms shook.

You listened.

You didn’t brag about what you knew.

You offered it when it mattered.

And slowly—so slowly you almost didn’t notice—the village stopped pulling away as fast.

One child didn’t flinch when you passed.

One elder didn’t spit in the sand when your shadow crossed hers.

One woman handed you a strip of dried fish without meeting your eyes, like she didn’t want to admit she was feeding you.

It wasn’t warmth.

But it wasn’t nothing.

Neteyam watched it like it was oxygen.

He didn’t hover as much after the first few days. Not because he stopped caring—if anything, you felt him everywhere in the way his gaze tracked you from a distance, the way he appeared the second someone’s voice got too sharp.

But he let you move.

He let you prove yourself.

And when the ache in your side eased enough that you could swim again without seeing stars, he took you out beyond the shallows.

Not far. Not where the open ocean turned dark and deep.

Just far enough that you weren’t under the village eyes.

The water held you differently than the ashlands ever had.

It didn’t judge you.

It didn’t care who your mother was.

It only cared that you breathed.

Neteyam swam beside you like he’d been born in the reef, movements smooth and sure. Every so often he glanced over, checking you, not with doubt—just with care.

When you surfaced near a mangrove patch, panting slightly, Neteyam reached out and steadied you by the forearm.

“You’re getting stronger,” he said.

You let out a breathy laugh. “I’m getting less injured.”

Neteyam’s mouth twitched. “That too.”

You floated there, salt water clinging to your skin, sunlight breaking into shards across the surface.

For a moment, it felt almost normal.

Almost like you weren’t carrying a war in your blood.

You looked at Neteyam. “Do you ever regret it?”

His brow furrowed. “Regret what?”

“Bringing me here,” you said softly. “Choosing this.”

Neteyam stared like the question didn’t make sense.

Then his gaze sharpened, like he realized you were serious.

He moved closer until your tails brushed under the water, a quiet, intimate contact that made your pulse jump.

“No,” he said immediately. No hesitation. No pause to think of consequences.

Your throat tightened. “You don’t even—”

“I do,” he cut in, voice low. “I know what it means.”

You swallowed. “What if Varang comes again and they blame you for it?”

Neteyam’s jaw clenched. “They can blame me.”

You shook your head. “That’s not a plan.”

Neteyam’s eyes held yours, steady and stubborn. “It is if it keeps you alive.”

Your chest ached. “I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

Neteyam’s voice softened. “You’re not a curse.”

You flinched like the word had teeth.

Neteyam saw it.

His eyes darkened, and his hand slid from your forearm to your wrist, thumb pressing against your pulse like he needed proof you were here.

“You hear me?” he said quietly.

You nodded, even though part of you didn’t believe it.

Neteyam’s gaze dropped to your mouth, flicked away again like it still embarrassed him that he wanted you.

Then he said, “Come.”

He guided you deeper into the mangrove shade, where the water was cooler and the world felt quieter.

There, he pulled you close—careful of your side, one arm bracing you by the back while the other held your hand between you.

It wasn’t dramatic.

It wasn’t like the first kiss that had been frustration and fire.

This was slower.

He pressed his forehead to yours, nose brushing your cheek, breath warm even in the water.

“You’re here,” he murmured. “And that matters more than where you came from.”

Your throat tightened. “Neteyam…”

His mouth found yours.

A soft kiss. Salt and warmth and restraint—like he was holding himself back because he was scared of hurting you, not because he didn’t want more.

Your hand tightened around his.

For a few seconds, the world was just water and breath and the steady promise of his body close to yours.

Then he pulled back, just enough to look at you.

His eyes were open and honest.

“I’m going to teach you something,” he said.

You blinked. “Metkayina hand signs again?”

Neteyam’s mouth twitched. “That too.”

He brushed his thumb over your knuckles. “But first… you need to learn how to be seen here without flinching.”

Your stomach twisted. “That’s not something you can teach.”

Neteyam’s gaze didn’t waver. “Watch me.”

You weren’t prepared for how quickly Varang’s shadow could reach without her body.

It happened three nights later.

The village was quieter than usual—watch shifts doubled, torches kept burning at the edges like stubborn little suns. You were helping fold woven line near one of the huts when a Metkayina scout came in fast, wet hair plastered to his face, eyes wide.

He went straight to Jake and Tonowari.

Voices rose—sharp, urgent.

You didn’t catch the words, but you caught the feeling.

Neteyam appeared beside you like he’d been pulled by a string.

“What is it?” you asked, already knowing the answer lived somewhere in your chest.

Neteyam’s jaw clenched. “They found a marker.”

Your stomach dropped. “Where?”

Neteyam didn’t answer right away. His eyes searched your face like he was bracing himself.

“On the outer reef,” he said finally. “Tied high.”

Your throat tightened.

Because you knew that sign.

Not Metkayina.

Not Omatikaya.

Mangkwan.

It meant: I can reach you from above. I can watch without being seen.

You swallowed. “She’s telling me she’s still here.”

Neteyam’s voice went low. “She’s telling you she can touch our borders whenever she wants.”

Your fingers shook as you tried to keep folding the line like your hands weren’t betraying you.

A laugh bubbled in your throat—thin and ugly.

“She’s bored,” you whispered. “This is her version of knocking.”

Neteyam’s gaze sharpened. “And what comes after knocking?”

You didn’t want to say it.

But you did anyway.

“Entering,” you whispered.

Jake’s voice carried over—hard, controlled. “Everyone stays close. No one swims alone. No one goes beyond the third marker.”

Tonowari’s voice followed, calmer but equally firm. “We do not chase shadows into deep water.”

Ronal’s voice cut in sharp. “We should send her back.”

Your blood went cold.

You turned your head fast.

Ronal was staring at you across the open space like she wanted you to hear her.

“She is the reason Varang comes,” Ronal snapped. “Every day she stays, we paint a target on our children.”

Your chest tightened.

Neteyam stepped forward instantly, but Jake lifted a hand.

“Not now,” Jake warned, eyes cutting.

Neteyam froze, breathing hard.

You forced your voice out even though it shook. “You think I don’t know that?”

Ronal’s eyes narrowed.

You swallowed. “I know what she does. I know what she takes. If you send me back, she doesn’t stop coming. She comes anyway—because she’ll know she can make you throw people away.”

Silence hit.

Ronal’s lip curled. “You speak like her.”

The words landed like a slap.

Your voice went quiet. “And you speak like someone who’s never been owned.”

Ronal’s eyes flashed like she might strike.

Neteyam’s body tensed, stepping between without thinking—

But Tonowari spoke first, voice like a tide pulling the moment back.

“Enough,” he said sharply.

Ronal’s jaw clenched.

Jake’s gaze flicked to you, then to Neteyam. He looked tired. Like this war had too many fronts.

“You’re staying,” Jake said finally, voice firm. “Not because it’s easy. Because we don’t sacrifice people to fear.”

Your breath caught.

Ronal looked like she wanted to argue.

Tonowari didn’t let her.

“Prepare the village,” he ordered. “And double the watch.”

As they moved away, Tsireya appeared near the edge of the gathering, slipping close to you like she’d decided something.

She lowered her voice. “You were right before,” she said softly.

You blinked. “About what?”

“About earning it,” she said. “Ronal will not say it… but she saw you bleed and stay.”

Your throat tightened.

Tsireya hesitated, then added, “If Varang wants to make you choose… don’t do it alone.”

You stared at her, surprised by the softness.

Then you nodded once. “Okay.”

She glanced at Neteyam, then back at you, almost shy. “Come. I will show you where we keep the extra medicines.”

Neteyam’s eyes narrowed slightly—not jealous, not really. Just protective, always.

Tsireya saw it and actually smiled a little.

“Relax, Neteyam Sully,” she teased quietly. “I will not steal your ash-blood girl.”

Your face heated instantly.

Neteyam’s ears twitched, and his jaw tightened like he didn’t know whether to be annoyed or embarrassed.

Tsireya laughed and tugged you gently by the wrist, careful of your healing side.

As you walked with her, you felt eyes on you again.

But something had shifted.

Not trust.

Not safety.

But a new truth settling into the bones of the village:

Varang had come, and you had stayed.

Which meant you weren’t a rumor anymore.

You were real.

And real things were harder to throw away.

That night, you couldn’t sleep.

The torches outside painted moving shadows on the woven walls. The ocean sounded louder than usual, like it was trying to warn you.

Neteyam sat at the entrance again.

Always the same place.

Always like he didn’t believe the dark would behave if he stopped watching it.

You finally whispered, “If she comes again… she’s going to do something worse.”

Neteyam didn’t look away from the night. “I know.”

You swallowed. “She’s not done proving her point.”

Neteyam’s voice dropped. “She thinks you belong to her.”

Your throat tightened. “She thinks I’m a story she wrote.”

Neteyam finally turned his head, eyes fixing on you like an anchor. “Then we write a different one.”

The words hit you hard.

Because you’d spent your whole life surviving her story.

You didn’t know how to write anything.

You sat up slowly, wincing, and Neteyam moved instantly—hand bracing you, steadying you like your body mattered.

You looked at him in the dim light. “What if she offers them a deal?”

Neteyam’s jaw clenched. “What deal?”

You forced it out. “Me… for peace. Or me… for someone she took.”

Neteyam’s eyes went sharp, dangerous. “She won’t get that choice.”

You whispered, “She might.”

Neteyam stood then, crossing to you in two steps, crouching like he needed to be closer to make you believe him.

He cupped your face with both hands—warm palms, gentle thumbs—like he was holding something sacred.

“Listen to me,” he said, voice low and intense. “You do not trade yourself to her.”

Your breath shook. “Neteyam—”

“No,” he cut in, softer but fiercer. “You do not go back. Not for peace. Not for guilt. Not for anything.”

Your eyes burned. “And if they try to send me?”

Neteyam’s gaze didn’t waver.

“Then they send me too,” he said.

Your throat tightened. “That’s insane.”

Neteyam’s mouth twitched once, humorless. “Yeah.”

Then, quieter: “But it’s true.”

You stared at him, the sheer stubbornness of his love pressing into you like gravity.

You whispered, “Why?”

Neteyam’s breath hitched slightly like the question hurt.

“Because when you walked into our village,” he said slowly, “you were shaking. You were bleeding. And you still held your chin up like you refused to disappear.”

His thumbs brushed your cheekbones, careful.

“You looked like someone who has never been protected,” he murmured.

Your throat closed.

Neteyam’s eyes softened, just barely. “And I couldn’t—” He swallowed. “I couldn’t leave you like that.”

You stared at him, heart hammering.

And for the first time, you didn’t see him as a shield.

You saw him as a person.

A boy who carried duty like it was carved into his bones.

A warrior who still chose gentleness with you, even when the world told him you were danger.

You leaned forward and kissed him first this time.

Not frustration.

Not fear.

A kiss that felt like choosing him back.

Neteyam made a quiet sound in his throat—soft, relieved—and kissed you like he’d been holding his breath for days.

When you pulled back, your forehead stayed against his.

Outside, the torches hissed.

The ocean breathed.

And somewhere out beyond the reef, Varang’s shadow waited.

You whispered, “She’s going to come for me again.”

Neteyam’s answer was immediate, steady, absolute.

“Let her.”

You swallowed. “That’s not—”

Neteyam’s mouth brushed your cheek, then your temple—an almost-kiss, grounding you.

“It is,” he murmured. “Because this time…”

He pulled back just enough to look you in the eye.

“This time she doesn’t meet you alone.”

In the early hours before dawn, when the village was quiet enough that even fear seemed to sleep, a single shell horn sounded from the outer watch.

One long note.

Then another.

Not alarm.

Not attack.

A signal.

Neteyam was on his feet instantly.

So were you, despite your side protesting.

Neteyam turned, eyes flashing. “Stay.”

You shook your head, voice tight. “If it’s her—”

Neteyam’s jaw clenched. “If it’s her, you stay.”

You stared at him. “Neteyam, she’s not here for nets and fish.”

His eyes darkened. “That’s why you stay.”

Outside, voices murmured—guards calling out, feet moving fast.

Then a shout.

“A message!”

Your blood ran cold.

Neteyam grabbed his bow and moved, but he hesitated at the entrance, eyes flicking back to you like he didn’t want to leave you even for a heartbeat.

You swallowed. “Go.”

Neteyam’s jaw tightened.

He stepped close, pressed his forehead to yours for the briefest second—like a promise he didn’t need words for.

Then he was gone.

You sat there, heart hammering, listening to the village gather like a living thing waking up.

Minutes stretched like hours.

When Neteyam finally returned, his face was hard.

Too hard.

The kind of hard people wore when they were trying not to break.

He stepped inside, and you saw it in his hand.

A strip of dark fiber, scorched at the end.

A Mangkwan marker.

Tied into it was a small object—something that didn’t belong to the reef at all.

A bead.

Not sea-glass.

Not shell.

A bead you recognized from your own hair once—before you cut it short to avoid giving Varang something to grab.

Your stomach dropped so hard you felt nauseous.

Neteyam’s voice came out low.

“She knows where you sleep.”

Your throat tightened to nothing.

Then Neteyam lifted his eyes to yours.

“And,” he added, the word dragging like it hurt, “she wants you to come.”

You swallowed, forcing air into your lungs. “What did she say?”

Neteyam’s fingers tightened around the scorched fiber.

He didn’t answer right away.

Like he didn’t want to speak it into existence.

Finally, he said, voice rough, “She says if you don’t go… she’ll burn the sea.”

Your blood went ice-cold.

Because you knew Varang didn’t mean it like a metaphor.

She meant the breeding grounds. The kelp beds. The nets. The homes.

The children.

You stared at Neteyam, chest shaking.

“She’s making it my fault,” you whispered.

Neteyam crossed the hut in two steps and grabbed your hands, holding them tight like he could keep you from unraveling.

“No,” he said fiercely. “She is making it hers.”

Your voice cracked. “Neteyam—if she does that—”

“She won’t,” he snapped, then softened instantly like he heard the fear in you. “She won’t. Not without a fight.”

You swallowed hard. “And what if they decide I’m the safer loss?”

Neteyam’s gaze went flint-hard.

“Then they’re wrong,” he said.

Outside, you could hear the village shifting, the beginning of another meeting, another circle of suspicion and strategy.

Neteyam looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

And you realized with a sick twist of dread—

Varang hadn’t just sent a threat.

She’d sent a lever.

Because she’d seen what love did to Neteyam.

And now she was going to pull it.

Neteyam pressed your hands to his chest, right over his heartbeat.

“I told you,” he whispered. “You’re not facing her alone.”

Your breath shook. “How do we stop her?”

Neteyam’s eyes narrowed, fierce and focused.

“We don’t run,” he said. “We don’t trade you.”

Then, quieter—like a vow:

“We trap the fire before it touches the sea.”

And when you stepped out of the hut beside him, the village already gathering, you felt every eye turn.

Not just fear this time.

Expectation.

Like the reef itself was holding its breath.

And somewhere beyond the outer waterline—

You could almost swear you smelled ash on the wind again.

Summary: Y/N L/N is one of the rare female drivers on the 2025 Formula 1 grid. In her late 20s, she’s balancing the pressures of racing, media obligations, and raising her fiercely protective teenage son after a bitter divorce. Her ex-husband left after an ugly fallout over money and betrayal, leaving her to raise her son alone. Through the chaos of F1, the drivers become her second family, always supporting her. But when her ex shows up at a Grand Prix uninvited, the entire paddock—and her son—prove just how protective they can be.

(A/N): This is a long one-shot , no romantic x‑reader here—this is purely platonic family dynamics, paddock friendship, and protective behavior. Inspired by the idea of the F1 grid being your support system.

Wordcount: 977

TW/CW: Mentions of divorce and infidelity, Family tension with ex-husband, Protective behavior from a teen and friends, standard F1 race risk/stress

The 2025 Formula 1 season was already intense. Between new regulations, unpredictable weather, and rookies eager to prove themselves, Y/N L/N barely had time to breathe. And yet, she somehow juggled everything: racing at the highest level of motorsport, handling the relentless media circus, and raising her son, Luca—her proudest achievement.

At twenty‑nine, she wasn’t just known for her speed or the rare sight of a woman holding her own in Formula 1. She was known for walking into the paddock with her head high, her fire‑eyed teenage son at her side when he wasn’t with his grandparents, and the quiet resilience of someone who had been through hell and come out the other side.

Her ex-husband had been the storm before that calm. Their marriage crumbled fast—what started as small arguments over finances turned into full‑blown fights. He wanted access to her race earnings, pressuring her to fund his business failures. When she refused to jeopardize her and Luca’s stability, he turned cold. It didn’t take long for rumors of an affair to reach her, and not long after, she filed for divorce.

Now, she had full custody of Luca, and her ex hadn’t been part of their lives in over a year. That didn’t mean the memory didn’t sting, but Y/N refused to let it define her. She had a career to fight for and a son to protect.

Race Weekends Were a Balancing Act

Most race weekends, Luca stayed with her parents. They doted on him endlessly, proud of their daughter’s accomplishments and fiercely protective of their grandson. Sometimes, if travel and school aligned, they would bring Luca to the circuit. He would always light up the paddock—not because of who his mom was, but because of the way he carried himself.

Jeongin x reader / enemies to lovers / only one bed / smut / possessive!Jeongin

**involves!!** sex, dirty talk, cursing, rough sex, Insulting / pain kink, cursing

enjoy xx (open for request)

★.•☆•.★★.•☆•.★¸.•☆•.¸★ skzstarl0ver ★⡀.•☆•.★⡀.•☆•.★¸.•☆•.¸★

AN: hi im sorry for the wait, as I said in my previous post I was quite busy but I’ll be trying to be active as much as I can in my current situation. Your request was so fun to write ! But also a little challenging because at fist I didn’t fully understand what you wanted but I hope that you will like it ♡ @firelilyofthevalley

ACE

You and Ace were at a bar on the island, celebrating another victory for Whitebeard's crew. Your crewmates were singing, dancing, and the alcohol was flowing freely. You were dancing to festive music with Ace. His angelic smile dazzled your face, and he twirled you around. He would occasionally steal sweet kisses as he pulled you closer after your spin. You danced for about ten minutes without stopping, then decided to take a short break for another drink. As you finished ordering your drink at the bar, a man interrupted you and started flirting with you insistently. Sure, it's happened to you before that a man tries to pick you up without knowing you're already in a relationship. In that case, you politely reject him, saying you're not interested and that you're already taken, and he immediately understands and apologizes for bothering you. But this... this despicable man! Even after you explained that you're in a relationship, he continues to hit on you relentlessly. You were frankly starting to get fed up, your blood was boiling, and you were even this close to using your Devil Fruit powers to strangle the jerk standing in front of you. When suddenly... the man uttered the final straw: "You know, my wife won't know anything about what we're doing. She doesn't even know I'm here." That sentence was the trigger for your anger. How dare he cheat on his wife like that?! Your self-control vanished and I unleashed all your anger on that bastard.

NO, BUT ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND, ASSHOLE? WHAT DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND WHEN I TELL YOU I'M NOT INTERESTED AND THAT I'M IN A SITUATION???!!! YOU WERE NEVER EDUCATED LIKE THAT, YOU BIG IDIOT. AREN'T YOU ASHAMED OF YOURSELF, FRANKLY? YOU AND YOUR UGLING FACE DISGUST ME! AND HOW DARE YOU CHEATE ON YOUR WIFE LIKE THAT, YOU BIG SON OF A BITCH! GO DIE IN HELL!

The man was now terrified. He looked at you as if death were right in front of him. As if taking you away, your Devil Fruit power had unfortunately (or perhaps not) activated and threatened to strike the man. Ace, who had been looking for you in the bar because you had disappeared for a while, stared at you, stunned and completely shocked by the scene that had just unfolded before his eyes. His sweet girlfriend, so tender with him, had unleashed her fury and hurled every insult imaginable at a man who was, in fact, a huge, first-class asshole. Ace had never seen you in such a state of profound anger. He saw you deliver a huge, loud slap to the man, then, turning over your glass in your hand, you instantly saw Ace, looking at you as if you were an anomaly, a strange creature he was seeing for the first time. You approach him and he stops spacing out, regaining his composure.

"Seriously, Ace, what a jerk this guy is. I've rarely met such an idiot. Who does he think he is? I mean, I can't believe he's trying to hit on me, but I don't think he realizes he's not even in your league."

"Is that right, darling? Is it my natural charm that dazzles you?" Ace teases you with that famous sly smile you love so much. You blush a little at his words, then you start to return to your table. Ace, still a bit shaken by the scene he just witnessed, turns his head towards the man and gives him a look that's a mix of "She's my girlfriend, you jerk," and "Don't mess with her." 

SABO

Koala, you and another member of the Revolutionary Army were discussing your latest team mission in one of the meeting rooms. The conversation had started calmly and in a controlled manner, with you discussing the strengths and weaknesses of your mission. But gradually, your teammate became increasingly bitter and unpleasant, blaming Koala and you for certain negative aspects of the mission, conveniently forgetting to mention that it was his fault that one aspect of the mission failed. "No but really,  No, girls, you were incredibly incompetent during this mission. You really messed up a crucial part of our plan, and I'm the one who has to clean up the mess. You're disappointing; I've had to deal with such a high level of stupidity etc…" Koala and you were initially surprised by these remarks, but as he continued to unleash all his hatred disguised as hypocritical advice towards you, your anger and Koala's began to show until suddenly yours reached a level far too high to contain.

"NO, BUT OH WAIT, DO YOU THINK YOU'RE WHO, MR. I CAN DO EVERYTHING BETTER THAN YOU?!!! I'LL REMIND YOU THAT IT'S YOUR FAULT THAT PART OF THE PLAN FAILED. YOU WANTED TO GO IT ALONE WITHOUT CONSIDERING THE RISKS FOR ME AND KOALA. BUT THEN MR. DON'T WANT TO ADMIT HIS MISTAKES AND BLAME TWO WOMEN. HOW CAN YOU BE SO HYPOCRITICAL AND SUCH A BIG JERK AS YOU? I'LL SPEAK TO YOU THAT WE ARE IN THE REVOLUTIONARY ARMY. MISTAKES CAN BE VERY DANGEROUS. EVERY LIFE COUNTS. BUT IT SEEMS THAT THIS SON OF A BITCH DOESN'T GIVE A DAMN AND PREFER TO BLAME HIS TEAMMATES. ON TOP OF BEING A COMPLETE IDIOT, YOU'RE ALSO A MISOGYNE ! YOU SON OF A BITCH !!!!!!

Even Koala, who has a rather strong personality, was shocked by your own anger, but she wasn't the most surprised person. Indeed, at the entrance was Sabo, your boyfriend, who had knocked and thought he had heard an "come in." He opened the door and saw a scene that seemed completely ridiculous to him. You, his girlfriend, normally calm by nature and able to handle stress in tense situations, were there before his eyes, unleashing your anger and frustration on a man who had behaved like a disgrace to the revolutionary army. He saw you, your face contorted with rage, your body consumed by a dark anger, your voice higher than usual. He was frozen in place. Suddenly, the man who was being berated by you turned towards the door where Sabo was. He stared at him and was even more terrified to see the Chief of Staff there. Koala and you, intrigued by the man's behavior, turned towards Sabo, and when you saw him, you were surprised to see him there and began to calm down from your peak of anger. The air was thick with awkwardness when Sabo spoke.

"Excuse me for interrupting, I just wanted to see Madam YN to give her some documents, but it seems I interrupted an important discussion." Another silence followed, and by some miracle, you decided to get up and walk towards Sabo. The two of you are now there, in the In the hallway, you made sure to close the door to the room before starting your conversation with your boyfriend. You looked into each other's eyes, unsure what to say, the shock of the scene still fresh. Sabo held the stack of documents he wanted to give you. The silence was long, until suddenly, Sabo's mind clicked, and in one swift motion, he handed you the documents and kissed your lips . "We'll talk about this tonight, my love. Have a good day ! " He kissed you again and went to his office, his cheeks flushed. As for you, you were in the same state as him; surprised by his sudden action but happy for the kisses he gave you. Sabo will never admit it, but damn, you were so sexy when you raised your voice at that misogynistic asshole.

SHANKS

It was a sunny day. You and the crew of the Red Force had just arrived at a new island and were in the process of docking. You were helping your dear crewmates lower barrels and crates from the ship. The atmosphere was great; people were laughing and having fun while working in good spirits. You were helping one of the crew members unload a rather large and valuable cargo when, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed another crew member staring intently at you with a dark look. It's true that, unfortunately, some crew members have treated you like the captain's girlfriend and not like a member of the crew like everyone else, but luckily Shansk was always there to set them straight and correct them when their remarks crossed the line.

But Shansk wasn't there, and normally you wouldn't have given a damn about this guy, but he's different. He creates a really unpleasant atmosphere that sends shivers down your spine. At one point, when you'd finished helping some of your crewmates, you decided to take a short break when suddenly you saw him. He walked with clenched fists in your direction, gradually approaching you until he finally reached you. "Seriously, we all know you're the captain's girlfriend, but that doesn't mean you can stop thinking you can get away with anything," he said, looking at you with a dark and contemptuous stare. Seriously, who does this guy think he is? You can see his oversized ego from miles away. Normally you can control your anger, but he's crossed the line for insults you can take from complete jerks.

"OK, SIR IS HAPPY, HE'S UNLEASHED ALL HIS FRUSTRATION ON A WOMAN, ISN'T THAT ENOUGH? NO, BUT REALLY, YOU BIG ASSHOLE, I WORK, I HELP OTHERS ON THIS FUCKING SHIP!!! I PARTICIPATE IN ALMOST ALL THE TASKS FOR THE GOOD OF THE OTHER CREW MEMBERS, SO IT'S NOT UP TO SOME BIG ASSHOLE WHO CAME OUT OF NOWHERE TO TREAT ME LIKE A BIG BITCH!!!!!!

۶ৎNo Brains—Ellie Williams x Reader۶ৎ

۶ৎwarnings : Request, mean dom!Ellie, masc!Ellie, Bimbo!reader, flirtatious!reader, cheerleader!reader, established relationship, strap sucking, hair pulling, public sex, some face fucking, possessive sex, rough sex, face slapping, groping, snail trails, dumbification, reader lowkey worships Els, pet names, mentions of free use, degradation, bimbofication, sub!reader, short fic lol, spit, mentions of breeding,

ᯓ★pluto's pieceˎˊ˗ this is such a great idea, hope you don't mind that i made it apart of my bimbofic, and that its so short. it was fun to write tbh, kinda brought me out of my slump.

────────୨ৎ────────

"Keep fucking yourself with those pretty nails." Ellie goads you, hands placed firmly on the sides of your head, keeping you still while she guides your mouth around the tip of her strap. Bimbofication had been going well, the kind of good that made Ellie feel so fucking proud of herself. Ellie had pulled a few strings to get you onto the cheerleading team for your university only because she wanted to (needed to) see you dressed up and flying in the air.

She waited for you to find your footing, cheer at a few games, go to a few practices all while she watched you from the bleachers, quietly planning out the ways she would ruin you.

Ellie stood above you, pulling your head closer by the back of the slick ponytail that keeps your hair out of your face, the tip of the dick hitting against the back of your throat. It rips the most disgusting noises from your body, choking and grunting bellows from the depths of your stomach. There's strings of spit that connect your head to the flesh colored strap, keeping you tethered.

Ellie pulls the silicone from your skull, it now being coated in a thick layer of your spit. The area around your mouth glistens with the evidence of your own DNA, eyes blown wide. She smiles down at you, freckled hand going to touch the side of your cheek, thumb rubbing small soothing circles on your skin.

"You look so cute in your uniform, babygirl." Your fingers never falter, even though your fingers burn and your knees are filled with needles at how long you've been sitting in this position. "Tha-thank you." Mewls fall from your lips as you slowly approach your end, sparkly pink nails glinting under the light of the gym's storage room. "Mm." Ellie's fingers pull at the ribbon that hangs off your ponytail, tugging it off.

" Want me to fuck you ,baby? Do you like being used?" She snakes behind you, grabbing your wrist and tying them together behind your back. You nod wordlessly, trapped in the silk of her web. Ellie's back in front you, the heel of her converse coming into light contact with your stomach. It's not harsh, just enough to make you flop on your back, legs falling open with practiced ease.

In an instant she's back in front of you, using her tattooed forearm the push your thighs open for her, watching the strings of your arousal keeping your thighs glue together.

"What a dumb bitch, can't even use your fucking words." She slides the tip of the silicone along your wetness, gathering the slick before pushing it into your waiting hole. Ellie doesn't wait for you to steady yourself, she takes the tip and shoves the thickness into you until she's bottomed out inside of you.

A gasp leaves your lips, but is quickly bitten back by the enamel of your teeth. "Don't you ever fucking do that again, I need to hear every fucking sound that leaves those idiotic lips of yours." Ellie growls while plunging into you with such force you're sure the strap is rearranging the pathways to your heart.

Your thighs hang loosely around her hips as she fucks into you with a rough pace, bruising the spongy part of your pussy as she chokes you, moans falling from your lips. You can feel the chafing feeling of the rough material of her khaki cargo pants, rubbing you raw in the most delicious way.

"I-I-'m sor-rry." You're pouting as you run the tips of your acrylics along her forearm, slight red marks appearing against her ivory and tatted skin. "Why would I ever accept an apology from a dumbass like you? Only thing girls like you are good for is being my little fucking cocksleeves." Her pace is brutish, her hands holding you in place by your hips.

"Hmm maybe, I should leave you here, turn you into a free use toy for all your little cheerleader friends. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" She taunts and you try to shake your head no, an act of disobedience that earns you a slap to the face. Its hard enough for you to instantly correct yourself, "Fuck, Els, please." You sob as she thrusts into you, watching your face contort into something likened to discomfort mixed with pleasure.

"It'd be a good fucking punishment, 'specially for a stupid cunt like you." Ellie pushes the front of your uniform upwards, revealing the white lace of the newest addition to your slutty wardrobe. "So cute. Think about it all your stupid cheerleader friends using you like the toy you are." Her fingers rub soothing circles around your clit, causing your body to jerk and writhe. "N-No, fuck—I don't wann-wanna be used." It's garbled and barely understandable, but she smiles down at you anyway. "So pathetic." Ellie takes the dick out of you, ignoring the way your fucked out body shivers underneath her at the loss of pressure.

"Where—where you going?" You watch as Ellie fidgets with the zipper of her pants, pushing them down to her knees before stepping out of them. "Your stupid moans are turning me on." She's back in front of you, pushing your knees to your chest as she works you into a mating press.

"Fuck, gonna breed this pussy, make you into the cutest little plaything in the world." Ellie shoves herself back into you, her clothed top falling onto your body, her arms falling to the sides of your body, trapping you underneath her. "Such a fucking slut, this pussy is the only good thing about you." Her pace is fast, cruel and enough to have you shaking at the way she deep strokes you.

Your lips are parted and your hair as been sweated out, the tops of your hair are frayed and the gel that held it back has started to lose its hold. You look so fucked out now, gone is the less flashy girl that kept her head deep books. Presented before her is the result of all her hard work, every act of dominance resulting in your submission. Ellie gathers the spit in her mouth, spurting the liquid onto your clit. Her freckled fingers rubbing speedy circles on your clit as her own hips stutter, her lip caught between her two front teeth.

"C-Can I cum? Please, please let me cum." Your sobbing harder now, tears streaming down your cheeks as you beg for your release. She's silent, so quiet yet she still daggers into you, deep and mean, like she hates how much she loves your pussy.

"I'll let you cum, only because you look so fucking brainless right now. I can feel the way your pussy grips my strap." Your pussy flutters around the base of her cock as the warmth of your release engulfs you, leaving you a moaning, crying mess. She never allowed you to breathe before, not even a second of peace before she's pulling out of you, letting the silicone slide itself to your stomach leaving a path of sticky slick in its wake.

Ellie's on her feet, boxer clad legs standing in front of you as she pulls you up by your hair, a cry leaving your lips at the hard tug on your follicles. She pulls you onto your knees, hovering above you. Ellie steps out of her boxers, her skin soft and bruised from years of rough play. You stare up at her with so much love in your eyes, small hearts flashing through them.

"I have to get back—to practice." You whimper out, the feeling of her hand gripping your ponytail giving you a slight headache, but you don't mention that part. She stuffs your face into her cunt with no warning, "Don't lick my clit, keep your bratty mouth shut." She runs your face along the wetness of her crotch, wetting your face with her arousal.

Once she's done a few passes, enough to get your T-zone nice and coated with her slick and precum she pulls away. Her banded arm lets go of your hair as she finally unties you, giving you a sloppy kiss as she tastes her own juices on your lips. "Go back out there, make me proud." She helps you up, pats you on your ass and then pulls her boxers back up.

"Wha-what about—what about my face?" You point a claw at your face, still sticky as her precum starts to dry out and turn white along your features. "I want everyone to know who you fucking belong to. Don't touch your fucking face, and I'll be watching."

𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐈 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞.

(For free other )

1. i make layouts.

2. I make watermark's.

3. I make rentry dividers.

4.i make png's.

5. I make slime's video for ranters.

6.i make anime oc's

7. I make gif rentry dividers.

8.i make gif.

9. I make whatever you ask me.

10.i make ,others, etc