Random Simp Book (one shots, imagines, etc.)

Moonlight: Yin Nezha x Reader

A/N: set sometime in the dragon republic i guess? not really sure, also really sorry the title is so shit, and if you want the mandalorian version of this fic, go to my mandalorian imagines book

Warnings: untrue facts about the battlements in Arlong, kissing, swearing, death, nightmares, war, slightly nsfw in the fact it sort of mentions an erection lmfao

Word count: 1103

You pace up and down the battlements of Arlong, the cool night air nipping at your face. Nowadays, you find it near to impossible to sleep, not with the thought of the Militia's attacks too close, not with those fucking Hesperians swarming the streets, not with... not with Nezha a constant itch at the back of your mind that you can't - won't scratch.

The moon glows with silver light, suspended up in the sky, passively watching. It blankets everything with temporary silver, making the world seem a little less worse than it is. Resting your forearms against the battlements, you fiddle restlessly with the pommel of your sword. You hate this, hate the waiting. At least in the midst of a battle, you don't have to think about the dead bodies, the refugee camp, the blood, the pain; all you have to focus on is the primal instinct in your veins to survive, to keep your sword swinging. It's not like you love the battlefield, because although you thrive in it, you don't exactly enjoy the death and the metallic tang of blood in the air, but somehow the clash of sword on sword clears your head of all your worries about the future.

A small shuffle sounds behind you, the scuff of feet on stone, and you turn around, drawing your sword in a fluid, deadly movement, bringing it forward as you drop into a crouch.

'Just me,' the shadow says, stepping out into the moonlight, and you relax, sheathing your sword.

'Why're you up, Nezha?'

'Why are you?'

You shrug, not sure what to say. You should be comfortable with him, you've known him for years, and yet simply looking at him these days makes your tongue stick to the roof of your mouth, makes your brain suddenly forget how to function. And of course it's made worse by the fact he isn't even wearing a fucking shirt. Cocking your head, you survey him. His hair is mussed, and you can tell he's just woken, but he seems tense, uneasy.

'Hey, are you okay?' You ask softly.

'Uh... I... I had a dream.'

'Are you going to torture me with withheld information or are you going to tell me what it was about, Yin?'

'You died.'

You snort. You can't help it. He came to tell you this, despite the fact that either of you could die by the end of tomorrow. 'You dreamt that I died. Hope you enjoyed it, since you won't get rid of me that easily in real life.'

His face crumples, the scars down his face contorting. 'I - I saw you drown, and - and I couldn't help you. I was there and I - I couldn't move. And you were screaming to m - me for help.' A tear trickles down his face as he looks back up at you. 'P - promise me you'll stay safe.'

You laugh bitterly. 'You know that I can't do that, Nezha. This is a war.'

A sob breaks from him, and he nods, turning to go, but you grab his shoulder, stopping him. You won't lie to him, won't give him false promises, but you can still comfort him. Gently, you wrap your arms around him, a shiver running down your back at his warmth, his skin under your fingers. Immediately, you feel disgusted by it, by the way you can't stop the thoughts in your mind about him, even as he clutches you to him, crying. Stroking your hand over his hair, smoothing it down, you rub comforting circles over his back, hating the way you can't stop yourself noticing the way his muscles ripple under his skin with every breath.

'I'm sorry,' you whisper into his ear. 'If I could - if I could promise you that I'd stay safe, I would.'

He shudders with a sob. 'I... I just needed to... to see if you were okay. I - I don't think - you - I don't want to - to lose you.'

Maybe it's instinct, maybe it's something unconscious in the back of your mind, but you turn your head to the side and press your lips to his temple, where his face is nestled in the crook of your neck. It's silent enough that both of you are able to hear his breath hitch, clear as crystal in the cold night air. Then there's approximately ten seconds where the two of you are frozen, locked in each others' arms, before he twists his head and cautiously kisses the side of your throat, his fingers tightening around your waist.

You find it amazing how easily he can change your emotions with the gentlest brush of his lips against your skin.

'F - fuck you,' you grit out, hands scrabbling over his back, trying to drag him closer.

'I'm sure you'll do it soon enough,' he answers slyly, flicking his tongue against your skin.

'Didn't - didn't know you'd go so far just to - to get into m - my pants, Nezha,' you gasp, but even as you form your words, you're arching your neck up for him, eyes half closed in pleasure.

'Mmm,' he hums, backing you up against the battlements, still lapping at your skin.

Cursing under you breath, you squeeze your eyes shut, stifling a moan. Propping yourself up with a hand on the rough stone of the battlements, you arch against him, hands tangling into his black hair and tugging. He nips at your skin one last time, causing your eyes to roll back in your head, before, smirking, he lifts his head, almost looming over you, and you swear again because the way he's fucking looking at you should be illegal -

Nezha kisses you on the lips. It's not soft or sweet, but with the two of you the way you are, you never expected it to be. Desperately, you grab the back of his head, pressing closer to him as he tugs at your bottom lip. You gasp against his mouth, one hand running down the muscular planes of his back, dragging your nails over his warm skin, elicitng a rewarding, husky groan from him. Slowly, he pulls away, dipping his head and simply just looking, taking eyefuls at a time - of you, and only you.

And then he wraps his fingers around your hips and pulls you tightly against him, letting you feel exactly what he wants and where he wants it.

'Oh, shit,' you mutter, reaching down and cupping him.

'Yeah,' he answers, breath hitching as you squeeze him slightly, his eyes looking black and wonderfully hungry in the moonlight. 'I think we're going to have some fun tonight.'