#ro: dart

[herotome]

"Dart would make you wear helmets"

Is Dart the mom of the group?

Everyone can be a mom friend in their own way...

Dart just happens to be the biker mom!

#RO: dart #herotome ask #he would let Warden go without a helmet tho

[planet-dusk]

☆ making bad decisions for you ∘ b.c

chan fucked up, and now he's left to deal with the consequences. how does one find someone to help their sweet pup through her heat on such short notice? the first step: call jisung. the second step: stay on the straight path. he has this under control. at least that's what chan thinks, until you throw him a curve...

─── ☆ pairing: bang chan x fem!reader

─── ☆ length: 2.3k

─── ☆ warnings: puppy hybrid!reader, sub!reader, perv!chan, big dick chan, pillow humping, corruption, bondage, unprotected sex, breeding (like a lot), dirty talk, praise, pet names: baby, pup, puppy

─── ☆ note: 18+ minors dni. the characters don’t represent real idols; this is fiction for entertainment purposes only. fictional smut is not a reflection of real life ! always communicate with your partner and practice consensual and safe sex ‹33

© planet-dusk do not copy, translate or repost my works.

Chan’s in over his head.

He knew this day would come. He should’ve been prepared. But he’s been so busy lately, and he didn’t keep track of your cycle — fuck, if only he could physically beat himself up for being the world’s shittiest owner. 

And of course he can’t find the informational flyers anywhere, and he doesn’t trust the internet, the advice varying so wildly he isn’t sure what to believe. He could call the shelter, but he doesn’t want them to find out he messed up. What if they take you away from him? 

So he calls the only experienced person he can think of: Jisung. 

“I really don’t know what to do, Han, fuck! Please help…”

“Take a deep breath, it’ll be alright. It’s not your fault there’s a suppressant shortage. You sure you don’t want to…?” 

“I can’t, it’s… it’s wrong,” Chan feels the panic rising in his chest again. He takes another gulp of air to calm his shaky nerves. 

“Fine, okay, it was just a suggestion! No need to yell at me, lemme look into it. I'll find a stud for her and come over as soon as my shift’s done, okay? You try to stay calm in the meantime and do exactly as I've told you to. Can you do that?”

“I’m sorry, it’s - I’m a mess, I should’ve seen it coming, but thank you, Ji. Thank you. I owe you one.”

“No worries, bro. Good luck. Call me if you need any help.”

The call disconnects and Chan is left standing alone in the empty bathroom, his heart galloping in his chest. He failed you. But he needs to be there for you now. He's not proud of what he’s about to do, but you’ll understand. He has no other choice. When this is all over you’ll understand. Please, you have to…

“Please forgive me, Y/N,” he whispers and unlocks the door.

As soon as he steps out of the bathroom Chan’s thrown off balance by your body slamming into his. “Channie, sir, please,” you whimper, pressing yourself tighter against his side and wrapping your arms around his neck. Chan feels a blush rise to his cheeks and turns his head away, swallowing harshly. 

“Let’s go to your bedroom, pup.” 

You yelp excitedly and dart off, throwing yourself on the bed. Your tail wags against the sheets and Chan can’t help but smile. When he was a little kid he always thought he’d get a wolfdog hybrid, or a big husky, but then he saw you at the shelter: a little cream coloured mutt with soft ears and a fluffy tail, and he knew he had to bring you home. 

You’re watching him rummage through his nightstand, head cocked and ears pointed. “‘t hurts, Channie, please hurry,” you roll on your back and stay there, skirt sliding down your thighs and almost exposing your panties. Chan coughs. 

“I know, baby, Channie’s here to make it all better,” he mumbles and fishes a pair of padded handcuffs out of the drawer. “Just give me your hands, okay?”

You give him a puzzled look but comply, letting him attach the cuffs to the headboard. “I'm so sorry, puppy, I'm sorry,” he whispers, avoiding your eyes. 

Then he turns around and hurries out of the room, closing the door behind him with a soft but resolute thud. 

Your frustrated howls are loud enough to reach the living room and he flinches. Every noise you make pierces his soul and adds to the pool of guilt in his gut. He had to do it, Jisung told him so — keep her safe, tie her up somewhere, otherwise she might hurt herself. It’s for her best interest. 

Chan knows, but why does it hurt him so much? He checks his phone, looking for a distraction. Two hours left until Jisung’s shift is done. Surely he can find a stud before the end of the day, right? Jisung knows so many people. He said everything would be fine. Chan just has to relax and trust him.

He takes another deep breath and turns on the tv, mindlessly going through the channels. He checks his phone again. 5 minutes have passed. Time’s never felt this slow. 

Eventually he settles on a documentary about tiger hybrids. He almost succeeds in focusing on the (terrible but entertaining) storyline when he notices your howls have changed into softer, breathier sounds. They almost sound like… moans? Chan thinks. He feels his cock stir. He shifts on the couch and stares at the tv, but the screen is a blur and he doesn’t hear a word the voiceover says. 

The noises continue and Chan grows more restless. How…? He looks at his phone again. 90 minutes left. 

With growing curiosity, Chan’s feet lead him to your bedroom almost involuntarily. Your noises have grown softer, little moans and whimpers drifting through the door. With a quiet click he opens it and peeks his head around.

You’re sitting on the bed, awkwardly positioned with your hands still chained to the headboard. Somehow you’ve managed to maneuver one of the pillows between your spread knees. You’re grinding down on it, fluffy tail causing your skirt to ride up. From his position in the doorframe Chan catches a glimpse of your white panties hugging your ass. 

The noises you’re making range from whiny to plain frustrated, the friction not enough to satisfy you. When you bend over to try and find a better position, Chan sucks in a breath, cock swelling at the sight of your soaked panties. You’re so wet the gusset has become almost see through, clinging to the outline of your pussy. 

Chan shouldn’t be here. He should leave before you notice him, before it’s too late. He should go back to the living room, put on his headphones and wait for Jisung to arrive. Let him sort it out. Get you a handsome dog hybrid to help you through your heat. 

“Chan?” your voice is soft, halting his train of thought. “Please…” 

He’s not sure if it’s your broken plea or something else that compels him to move, but Chan steps into your room. Your tail starts to wag slowly and you drop to your elbows, presenting yourself to him. From this distance Chan can see the tantalizing curve where your thighs meet your ass, the spot he wants to lick and suck and tease…

“‘s okay, puppy, Channie’s here.” There’s still time to leave. But you’re looking back at him with your pretty eyes — how could he say no to his sweet pup? He wants to protect you. Keep you safe. Jisung and his stud be damned. 

“I’m so sorry I did this to you, Y/N. I panicked.”

His hand strokes your thigh and you sigh into his touch. “Don’t leave me again, Channie. Promise.”

Chan shakes his head. “It was a mistake, I promise, I’m here with you now pup. Let me help you.” 

You mewl when his fingers graze your clothed slit. “Sir, ‘s hurting, don’t make me wait any longer, need you to breed me now, please,” you trail off, grinding back against his hand. 

Normally Chan would take his time to explore your body, tease you until you’ve cum at least twice before he’d give you his cock. But he hears the urgency in your voice, your pained little whimpers as you tug at your restraints. 

And it’d be a lie to say he hasn’t fantasized about this before. Late at night in his own bedroom while he tried to muffle his moans, unsure of what your sensitive ears could pick up. 

Chan slides your panties down your thighs with shaky hands. Your pretty cunt’s all puffy and glossy with your slick and it drips down his fingers when he pushes two inside. 

Your reaction is instantaneous, a pleasant gasp as you arch your back for him. “Need more, need your cock, need it now,” you plead again. 

“You sure you can take it, puppy?”

Chan rolls his plush bottom lip between his teeth. He doesn’t want to hurt you. 

“‘Mmm don’t care, make it fit,” you pout and wag your tail for him, “Channie.”

He’ll never tire of hearing his name like this. A broken sound, filled with so much need it goes straight to his head. 

He chucks off his pants and his boxers, hard cock springing free and slapping against his abdomen. He slides the tip over your slit to wet it, holding your hips to keep you still. Then he sheathes himself in your dripping heat inch by inch, whispering soft praises into the air between you. 

“Just like that, puppy, don’t move. Gonna fill you up so good baby, let me take care of you.”

Chan knows he’s big, watches your pretty hole stretch to accommodate him. He groans at how wet and warm you feel. It’s even better than he imagined. When you shift forward on your knees he growls, “Where do you think you’re going, pup? I'm not even halfway in yet.”

He pushes in deeper, watches you arch your back even more. “Channie, so full,” you pant when he finally bottoms out, stilling for a moment to catch his breath. The sensation of your soft, velvety cunt around him is overwhelming all his senses. 

“Yeah? Is my puppy nice and full?”

“Wanted - wanted this for so long,” you say and his heart makes a little leap. He knows it’s just your heat-clouded mind talking, the hormones making you more susceptible to his presence. But there’s a small part of him that dares to hope you’re speaking the truth. 

“Yah - wanted my sir, my Channie,” you nod when he starts moving, holding tight onto the handcuff’s chain. He briefly considers removing them, but you don’t seem to mind being tied up like this, pushing back on his cock like the neediest little thing he’s ever seen.

My Channie.

“I want you too, Y/N,” he groans and you hum at the sound of your name. “Can’t stay away from you - my pretty baby… knew it from the day I brought you home.”

You’re moaning every time his hips meet yours, soft uh-uh-uh’s like music to his ears. Your pussy is gushing around his length, and Chan’s not sure how long he’s going to last if you keep clenching down on him like this.

“Fuck, puppy - you’re hugging my cock so tight,” he lands a playful smack on your ass, “want me to breed you that bad, huh? Want me to stuff you full with pups?”

He tilts your hips to reach even deeper, fat cock slamming into you with force. You’re slumping against the mattress and he hovers over your back to nip at your ear, eliciting another moan from you. The soft fur of your tail tickles his abs but Chan is too focused on the erratic pulsing of your walls around him. 

“Are you going to cum for me, baby? I can feel you’re close, just let go. I’ve got you. Channie’s got you. My good girl.”

You sob and he feels your release gush around him, fucking you through your high with renewed vigor. You’re a blabbering mess, unable to form words except for “Channie,” “please,” and “fuck.” 

“Did my puppy lose her tongue?” He grins. “Getting all dumb on my cock after one orgasm, and I haven’t even bred you yet, baby.”

“Please…need it,” you whisper into the sheets, “need you to cum inside, please, sir.”

Even with his weight pressing you into the bed you’re still angling your hips up more, and Chan buries his face into the crook of your neck. You smell so good, like vanilla and the heady scent of sex. “I always keep my promise, pup, I’m going to breed you so well you’ll feel it dripping out of you for the next three days.”

You turn your head just enough to catch his gaze, your eyes so glossy and fucked-out Chan loses all composure. He ruts into you one, two more times before ropes of thick cum paint your inner walls and tumble you headfirst into another orgasm. 

His thighs are shaking, your cunt milking him of every last drop until he’s a panting mess on top of you. For a moment the two of you lay still, breathing heavily, until Chan realizes you’re still chained to the bed. He pulls out and you mumble something when you feel his cum drip out of you, rubbing your thighs together. 

Chan unclasps the handcuffs and kisses your wrists, hugs you close and captures your lips with his own. They’re so soft, needy little sounds already escaping you again as you rut against his thigh. “Need more, Channie.” 

“Insatiable little thing,” he grins and traces your puffy cunt with his fingers. “Can’t get enough, can you?” 

He slips one finger in your sensitive hole just as the doorbell rings. You look up in surprise, eyes wide and ears darting in all directions. 

Chan kisses you again. “Ignore the bell, pup. I’m not going anywhere. Made a promise, remember? Need to breed you nice and round. Maybe make you beg a little more for it,” he chuckles, “let me see how needy you can really get.” 

You’re grinding down on his thigh now and Chan doesn’t care how long he has to stay here with you, he’ll give you whatever you want. He’ll spend days holed up inside your nest if he has to. 

You grab his shirt and pull him closer, and the blaring sound of his ringtone rips him out of his reverie. 

He rolls over with a groan and hits the green button, cutting off Jisung’s voice. “It’s already taken care of, Ji. Thank you.”

“Wha —? You sly dog!”

Chan throws his phone into a corner and rolls you onto your back, slotting himself between your thighs with a smile. “Don’t worry, pup. I won’t let anyone else touch you ever again.”

© planet-dusk do not copy, translate or repost my works.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids hard hours #skz hard hours #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids headcanons #skz headcanons #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #sub!reader #dom!idol #;skz longfic #tw: perversion

[assassinbugs]

previous polls here, here and here.

#polls #star trek #star trek polls #star trek tng #star trek ds9 #star trek voyager #star trek lwd #star trek ent

[weasleyreidstyles]

Serendipity

chapter eleven

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. all characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): fighting, mentions blood, more angst lol

series masterlist; previous part; next part

The three of you sit in varying states of unrest beside Ron's hospital bed.

Hermione was still gripping his hand, as if her touch would entice him to wake up; Ginny was throwing a ball against the nearest wall as she quietly chatted to Mione, ignoring the glares of annoyance from the matron every time her ball made a thwack sound against the stone; you were sat on one of the uncomfortable chairs, a copy of 'Mythical Lore' in your lap, your eyes darting to and from Ron's chest to check that he was still breathing. Harry was Merlin knows where, but you knew he'd be back soon, never willing to leave his friends in distress for too long.

It had been like this for hours. Your tears had dried up and your anger had simmered away slowly; all that was left was the hollow feeling of helplessness and despair as you sat there.

Helpless against the poison that was slowly leaving Ron's bloodstream.

Helpless against forces that harmed your friends.

Helpless to whatever was happening to you.

A monster is what you were. A mythical, dangerous monster. Your gut churned with unease.

The somewhat peaceful atmosphere was interrupted as the doors to the Hospital Wing behind you burst open in a flurry that alerted Madame Pomfrey instantly.

"What is the meaning of this?" she said to whoever had appeared in the doorway. You swivelled in your seat to see, noting Ginny's incredulous look and Hermione's annoyed one, which could only mean one thing.

"Where is my Won-Won?" the squeaky voice of Lavender Brown sliced through the calm. "Cormac McClaggen told me he was here but I didn't believe him."

Madame Pomfrey tutted at her dramatics and pointed the girl in the direction of where you were all sat. You tensed at the blazing heat simmering in Lavender's eyes as she looked between Hermione's hand in Ron's.

"Y'alright Brown?" you say with a grimaced smile, discontent with the fact that you knew the other two wouldn't dare to speak. "Ron's been out for a few hours. Should be cognisant properly in a week's time."

Apparently you'd taken to snarky remarks to cover up your terror at the fact that he had not so much as stirred from his dreamless sleep. She turns to you then, her features betraying how worried she was for her boyfriend, but she had let jealousy rear its ugly head.

"And what is she doing here?" she hisses, pointedly looking at Hermione as you and Ginny share bewildered looks.

"Well-" you say, awkwardly glancing between the girls, "Well they're friends aren't they?"

"Yes well, you're friends with Theodore Nott, but it's so obvious that you're fucking each other behind closed doors." she snaps and you gape at her in disbelief. "Forgive me if I don't think that Granger's intentions are any less pure."

"I am not fucking Theodore." you jibe, throwing a whithering glare at Ginny who had let out a loud snort at Lavender's self assured statement.

"I've been friends with him for longer than he knew of your existence." Mione snapped, not letting go of Ron's hand, scowling as Lavender lets out a catty laugh.

"You're joking right? The two of you haven't had a civil conversation in weeks. But I suppose you want to make up with him now that he's all interesting." she says shrilly and its Ginny who whirls on her this time.

"You call being poisoned interesting? Are you that dim?" she questions and Lavender's resolve jostles only slightly.

Suddenly, Ron's features contort in discontent.

"Oh look at that." Lavender says smugly, eyes flicking to Hermione's grimacing face. "He senses my presence."

You yelp as she practically shoves you away from where you are sat, leaning over to peak at her boyfriend's face as it twitches with his dreams. He begins to mumble something that you can't make out and Lavender begins to encourage him to speak up, as if he'd be able to hear her.

You just stare at the back of the girl's head in annoyance until she staggers away, mouth agape with shock. You're confused until you hear it for yourself.

"Her- Mione. Mione. Mione." he chants her name like a siren's song.

Hermione smiles gently and her thumbs caresses his hand softly as he continues to mumble incoherently in his sleep. Lavender lets out a broken exhale and promptly flees the ward. You pity her in that moment. Not even the most incorrigible of people deserve that kind of betrayal.

The three of you are silent as you watch Ron. But he's sound asleep again. Still, as if it had been a combined figment of your imaginations. You stand to make the matron aware of this development, playfully shoving Ginny away as she taunts you.

"I can't believe she thought you and Nott are fucking." she laughed. "Unbelievable."

"Shut up." you berate her and she lets out a giggle before replying in a barely hidden whisper.

"Wrong Slytherin Prince, right?"

She smirks as you throw up a middle finger towards her as you reach the matron's office on the other end of the Hospital Wing.

~∞~

Somehow you've mastered the accute art of stealth.

In the week that has passed, you have managed to drift through the castle halls without so much as crossing paths with any of the Slytherin group. Partly due to the fact that you spent your time in the Hospital Wing with a near-cognisant Ron, in classes or in your dorm. You didn't dare go to the Room of Requirement or the library and you were eternally grateful that it was not your week to do the nightly Patrols.

Ancient Runes proved to be a difficult feat, but you somehow coerced a fellow Ravenclaw to switch seats with you in exchange for completing the next essay so that they could focus on training for the quidditch match at the end of the week. Under normal circumstances you would've abhorred the idea of it, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

You could feel his eyes practically burning holes to the back of your head in all your shared classes, and you felt him in the corridors, but you didn't dare give in. You didn't want to see him. Couldn't bare to face him.

Mattheo was restless and agitated. All week long you wouldn't so much as look at him, let alone deign to spend an ounce of time with him. He was worried.

When you slammed the common room door in his face a week ago, he had reluctantly confessed to his friends about what the two of you had discovered; each of his friends were wholly willing to help him find a way to help you, if only he could tell you the good news.

And he'd tried. He'd reached over the tether that had connected your mind to his, but each time he was met with an offensive wall of dark stone. You'd blocked him out completely, and he would've been impressed if he wasn't so desperate to hear your voice.

Now he knows how you must've felt all those weeks ago, but it's different now. Now there are feelings involved. Now he doesn't know how to cope without your snark and sarcasm.

When he found Jeremy Stretton sat in your seat in Ancient Runes he found his reigned in emotions snapping. Especially when he saw that you were sat in the front, happily chatting away to Hermione and one of the Patil twins, waiting for Professor Babbling to turn up. He doesn't know why the sight of the Chaser makes his blood boil.

Mattheo slammed his hands onto the desk, bringing his face level with Stretton's, who had looks up in startled alarm. Mattheo was seething, and he didn't particularly care that everyone was beginning to peer curiously at the scene that was beginning to unfold.

"What the fuck are you doing at my table, Stretton?" he snarled, eyes narrowing as his hands tightened around the lip of the desk.

To his credit, Jeremy shook off his stupor and looked at Mattheo obstinately.

"I'm sitting in my seat, Riddle. Problem?" the Ravenclaw chaser replied, challenge flaring in his oceanic eyes.

Mattheo's glare became venomous.

"That...is not...your seat." he said slowly, his voice low and dangerous. He could see you standing up in his peripheral, looking as if your going to intervene, but Granger stops you with a hand to your shoulder, a look of incredulity on her face. "I suggest you move, before I move you myself."

"Well actually," Stretton says with a barely there smirk, "I think you'll find that it is my seat. I don't know why it's taken her so long to do so, but Meadow practically begged me to swap and I can only oblige to her wishes."

He sees red almost instantly and Stretton's shirt collar finds its way into the clenched fists of Mattheo's hands, his hot breath fanning over the Ravenclaw's smirking face. He now knows why fury coats his every being with a tiny detail that whispered to his consciousness. Stretton had taken you to the Yule Ball two years ago. This was a product of pure jealousy as well as rage.

"Oooh did I hit a nerve?" Stretton says. "What could dear, sweet Meadow possibly see in you, Riddle?"

Mattheo doesn't register the feeling of his fist untangling from the shirt collar, until he feels the soft cartilage of Stretton's nose breaking beneath bloodied knuckles. He can vaguely hear Theodore and Pansy telling him to stop, can barely hear the sounds of people jeering and gasping at the scene. But what he does hear is your blessed voice.

"Mattheo stop it." you say, and it's like the sound brushes away the feelings clouding all his senses. He lets go of Stretton, who flops to the floor unceremoniously, but he doesn't pay him another glance. Not when you're looking at him the way you are. With bewilderment and what he thinks is unease. His breathing is ragged as he steps towards you, but you step back.

"Are you insane?" you hiss at him and to his utter horror, you turn your gaze to the blubbering boy on the floor and kneel down to help him instead.

"Jeremy?" the way you say his name with a soft tone grates through him and he's about to step towards you again, when Theodore's firm hand on his chest stops him.

"Let it go. You've already caused quite the scene brother." his voice is a gentle caress to his ears and his graciously listens to Theo who sighs in relief, pushing Mattheo out of the door, ignoring the shouts of Professor Babbling, who had just entered the classroom.

~∞~

Wordlessly, you heal Jeremy's wounds as Professor Babbling meanders in, unaware of the turmoil that had occurred only moments ago. Jeremy was hissing and cursing as your magic washed over his skin.

"You can take your godsdamned seat back, Meadow." he spat. "It's so not worth getting another beating over."

You smile grimly at him, guilt clouding your eyes. "Of course. I'm sorry, Jeremy."

"Not your fault, love." It's nearly impossible for you to hide the way the nickname makes you cringe. "Can't say I won't miss the opportunity for some extra quidditch practice though."

He bats your healing hands away as Professor Babbling stands above the two of you.

"What on Earth is going on?" she says, voice stern. "Does it have anything to do with why Masters Riddle and Nott are notably absent?"

Jeremy nods immediately at the same time that you freeze, not willing to give them up so easily. He stares at you incredulously. You clear your throat awkwardly.

"Uh, yes. Yeah." you say in a muted whisper. "But it's been sorted."

Jeremy throws you a look, which you adamantly ignore as you rise and go towards Pansy's table, taking Theo's empty seat. She doesn't so much as look your way, tense as you sit down. You close your eyes and sigh.

"Look I'm sorry that I've not spoken to you." you mumble without turning to face her.

"Ignored and neglected more like." she retorts in response. "I had no idea about Ron, Meadow. You have to believe me."

You reach over and squeeze her hand in your's. "I do believe you, Pans. I do. But it doesn't mean that the others didn't. And I-"

You're cut off by Professor Babbling's introduction to the lesson's topic, but the squeeze that Pansy's hand gives your's is all you need to know that you're both okay. And that's enough for now.

"For what it's worth," she mumbles almost imperceptibly. "You're doing an awfully good job of avoiding him. I've never seen Mattheo so ruffled."

Instead of satisfaction, that statement only brings you an aching sense of pain. And whether you do it unconsciously or not, you'll never admit, but your mental walls break down the smallest amount.

Enough for him to know that you're in as much agony as he is.

~∞~

As soon as Pansy leaves your side after you've walked out of Ancient Runes, Hermione is there immediately.

"Okay, what in Merlin's name happened in there?" she asks incredulously.

"We both know Riddle has a short fuse, Mione. It's not that abnormal to see." you retort and she gives you a disbelieving look.

"Maybe so, but it can't be just me that's noticed that he hasn't resorted in bloody fist fighting in months." Damn her and her brilliant observation skills. "And why was Stretton in your seat in the first place?"

"I asked to swap." you say with a shrug and when you don't give her the answer she's no doubt looking for, she pins you with a glare.

"You've been avoiding them all week. Parkinson, Nott and Riddle. You've spent more time with me, Ginny and Harry this week than you have all year."

"Tired of my presence already, Mione?" you say with the ghost of a smirk of your face. When she doesn't return your humour, you sigh. "I've been a little busy with visiting Ron. And maybe Harry's spiels have been getting to me."

"What?" she questions before lowering her voice. "You think they're Death Eaters?"

"I don't know what to think." you say. "But I can't talk to them. I won't."

"You spoke to Pansy, just fine earlier."

"She's not the one I'm avoiding."

A brief glance into her mind shows you that she thinks you're speaking about Theo. And while the thought of speaking to him after what he no doubt had a hand in helping orchestrate, seeing Mattheo, speaking to Mattheo, makes your heart want to drop right down to your stomach.

You can still feel the phantom of his power all this time later. Though that could just be you imagining it; you don't doubt that the brief feeling you got was exhilarating. It terrified you.

"Are you coming to see Ron after lunch?" Hermione asks as you part ways for your differing classes.

"Yeah. I'll find you in the Great Hall once I've finished Astronomy." you smile in farewell as she makes her way towards her Arithmancy lesson.

Your smile slips immediately as you turn the corner, because you find yourself trapped between a cold stone pillar, and his strong, muscled chest, his arms straining as they pin you to the hard structure. You don't look up to lock eyes, instead glaring intently at his loosened Slytherin tie.

"Hello, Princess." Mattheo spits menacingly. All he gets in response is a huff from you. "Still intent on avoiding me, are you?" he lets out a dark chuckle that sets your skin alight, and you can tell without looking that a sinister smirk paints his gorgeous face.

You feel as he sensually caresses your mind, and it has you keening into him.

Let me back in. His deep voice is demanding and assertive. At your blatent refusal he growls. Why won't you let me in?

I can't. You say back, your inner voice a mere whimper in comparison to his. He tilts his head down to look at you, chasing your eyes with his own. He can feel your fear and self hatred like it was highlighted in bold colours for all to see.

"What are you so afraid of, darling?" he asks out loud in a low and raspy tone that makes you melt. Your eyes shut on instinct, squeezing away the light until your dizzy.

"I'm going to be late for Astronomy." you say, deflecting and he scoffs, pushing you further into the wall.

"It's barely eleven o'clock. I'm sure you're not going to miss a change in star pattern any time soon."

"That's not even the point and you know it." you argue, trying in vain to evade his strong hold.

"Stop avoiding us. Stop avoiding me." he begs. "Do you know how insufferable Teddy has been?"

"What a horrible thing to say about your best friend." you retort halfheartedly. But Mattheo is only partially glad that you're returning his words with quips of sarcasm. He sighs.

"I don't blame you for what happened in my dorm, love." Unlike how you cringed away from Stretton, your heart sings at the nickname. "'S not your fault."

"I could've drained you to death, Théo." you say quietly, and his face heats at the shortened nickname. One that he had not heard in years, since the passing of Theodore's mother. "I don't know how you can stand to be around me."

You're still evading his eye contact, so he lifts a hand from the wall and gently cradles your chin, moving your gaze to his; bloody knuckles contrasting with the smoothness of your skin.

"You're not a monster." he says resolutely, like he truely believes it. "You never have been, and you never will be. Not to me, not to my friends, not to your friends, either."

Your brow furrows and your eyes line with unshed tears.

"I went to Dumbledore." you say and he stills. "After I left your common room. I went to him and he said I was a weapon. Because I can detect certain magical objects and people."

Mattheo's body lit up with fury again. You were not a weapon to be used and discarded. No, you were a person who did not belong on the frontlines of war.

"And what did you say to that?" he asks you, onyx eyes narrowed in anger that was not directed your way.

"I told him that I didn't know how to control it. That I wasn't interested in being fated to die." you say, and it feels good to talk about things you're too afraid to speak to your friends about. "I asked him to grant you all safety too."

At this, Mattheo's gaze snaps right to your own. Incredulity lacing his features. "Why would you do that?"

"He could see right through my shield." you defend yourself at his tone. "He refused anyhow. Said you had to ask for yourselves, and he knows that you won't."

He admired your ire for his friends. But he almost winces at the glare you send his way.

"You knew that he wouldn't help any of you no matter when or how I asked. Didn't you?" you couldn't believe him.

"You learn to expect nothing less from the people who expect nothing but bad intentions from you, sweetheart." he replied with a shrug. "Though I wish they'd help the others, no matter if they associate with me or not."

His face is dark as he lets you go. But you don't move away. Instead you tilt your head and stare up at him, eyes moving across his features: from his onyx eyes framed by gloriously long lashes; to the bridge of his nose, crooked from previous fights with a long scar stretching across the middle of it; to his perfect mouth that pouts slightly as he gazes down at you.

Keep looking at me like that and I'll take you in this very corridor. He snarls in your mind and you smirk.

Kinky. But I draw the line at exhibitionism. You pat at his hard, muscled chest and make to move away and run towards the class that you are no doubt now late for. But he stops you with a firm grip to your bicep and he spins you around to face him again.

"Tease." he mutters with his own smirk as he presses his lips to your's. It's as euphoric as the first time, and every time after that as his lips fight against your's, ultimately winning your miniature battle for dominance. You mewl into his mouth as his tongue brushes against your's, hands clawing at the hairs at the nape of his neck as he pushes you into the wall once more.

You're so lost in eachother that you don't hear them when they turn the corner. Ginny and Harry stop dead in their tracks as they stare at the two of you wide eyed. The former smirks at the thought of finally catching you out but it drops immediately when she turns to the boy beside her who is visibly fuming. And she can't steer him away fast enough to save you from his wrath.

"Shacking up with Death Eaters now, Meadow? I thought that was below you." the spitting sound of your best friend's voice breaks you from your daydream like state and you force yourself away from Mattheo's wondering mouth to gape at your two friends.

Ginny is sending you an apologetic look which you bypass in order to face the scathing eyes of Harry Potter.

"Harry-" you say, stepping out from where you're trapped between Mattheo and the wall, and you're so grateful that he doesn't keep you pinned there, instead he stands slightly infront of you, arms folded, a glare set on his face.

"Don't." Harry says, eying the way Riddle stands infront of you protectively. "All this time, I thought you were only tutoring him for Nott's sake. But, of course you just had to get in his bed, too."

The hand on his bicep is the only thing stopping Mattheo from launching at the boy.

"Watch it, Potter." he snaps, his position infront of you turning defensive.

Harry lets out an incredulous laugh; Ginny's attempts to persuade him to leave it alone, are ignored.

"I overheard you." he continues as if Mattheo had not spoken at all. "In Dumbledore's office. Begging him to help your friends."

You don't know what to say. Starstruck by his anger. But you understand why he's angry at you, and that ache burns ever brighter in your chest.

"The same friends who have tormented us, tormented you for years. How can you even ask such a thing?"

"They deserve to be helped just as much as the rest of us." you say at last, your voice quiet and on the verge of cracking with emotion. The lump in your throat gets bigger with every word you speak. "You know what it's like to grow up in an unwanted home Harry. You know that no one deserves that."

"That's not the point Meadow." he snaps and he visibly delights in the way you recoil at his words. "They're all Death Eaters. Working for his–" he points a steady finger to the boy stood beside you, "-father. Did you ever stop to think that they were buttering you up to take to him once they got wind of your powers."

You blanch at that and turn your gaze to Ginny. She gapes between the three of you and avoids Harry's eyes. "I didn't tell anyone. I promise you, Meadow." her resolute tone is the only thing grounding you to reality right now.

Harry shakes his head. "Dumbledore told me that you can siphon people's power as well as perform Occlimency. When were you going to tell us?" his anger gives way to betrayal as he looks you up and down. And the way he spits out the word 'siphon' tells you everything you need to know. He thinks you're a monster.

"I was going to tell the rest of you." you promise, not looking at Ginny again. "But only when I had a better grasp of it."

Harry scoffs and steps towards you. Rolling his eyes when Mattheo stands directly ahead of you.

"Back off Potter. If you know what's good for you."

The way his venomous lilt travels through you should make you ashamed, but it only sends sparks of arousal to your core.

Harry only looks at you from over Mattheo's shoulder, distain painting his pale face as he utters a heartbreaking sentence before he leaves, with Ginny following quickly behind him, with a silent promise to find you later and apologise for Harry's (entirely justifiable, you think) words.

"Don't go to see Ron later, and don't you dare seek us out again. I don't trust you, and I don't know if I ever will again."

Mattheo is onto you the second the pair depart, wrapping you in his arms as you collapse from the onslaught of emotion that crashes down on you.

What have I done? What have I done? What have I done? You say over and over and he does his best to comfort you, going as far as to sit against the wall, cold floor stinging against the fabric of his school trousers, cradling you into his chest.

It's okay. I'll fix it. I promise. Is all he can muster up in comfort as you crumble before his very eyes, sinking into his embrace.

~∞~

i love writing angst lol i hope you enjoyed this shortish chapter (lots of time skips im sorry)

the coming updates will probably be slow since i've gone back to uni - i have to complete three presentations and come up with a product idea and a lab report in like 5 weeks 🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲

i've tried to fix it and i've reported the bug but i'm still incapable of editing pretty much all of my posts (not the serendipity masterlist post though, thankfully) and its getting quite frustrating now but we move 🫡

taglist:

(striked out users are ones that i couldn't tag)

@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8 @xluansstuff @babeylover @thejadeazalea @undercover-smutlover @adhxmoony @dreamingofonceuponatime @thepassionatereader @urmomsgayforme5 @aphroditeisamilf @devotedlycrookeddonut @purplegirls-posts @nofacenonamelikekira @foxboyapologist @lafrone @lovely-maryj @nromanovaswife @leeknows-wife @dracygf @wildlyobserving @ravenclawprincess33 @melllinaa @vellicora @lantsovheiress @emiliahoward @stunkbiggu @vcosette @prongsprincessworld @mattiesgirl @rachmmb @x-kermit-x @sun-fiower-seed @cas-planet @certaindreampost @weirdowithnobeardo @mikalovesicecream @sunasbbie @rainy-darling @faeriepigeons @lovely-blackinnon @hiireadstuff @gimalo135 @elsafromcabinsix @moonlightreader649 @blueshome @nopedefe @spencerreidsthings @navs-bhat @agent-tempest @magimtz23 @y0urm0m12 @sbrn0905 @leona-hawthorne @whatsupb18 @moni-cah @taylorann2013 @unstablereader @gisellesprettylies @nat1221

#mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo x you #harry potter #mattheo riddle #pansy parkinson #ginny weasley x reader #hermione granger x reader #harry potter x reader #angst #serendipity series

[princessmaybank]

Truth or Dare

Pairings: BestFriend!JJ x BestFriend!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Jealous JJ, stripping, fingering, squirting, etc.

Summary: They play t or d.

Authors Note: I didn't mean to post this so soon, but since it's out already I hope you like it, I'm just stopping it here, if you like it let me know if you want a part 2 :(.

"Truth or Dare?" John B asks darting his eyes to Cleo. "Oh come on man! You should already know the answer!" He smirked and nodded. You were at the chateau in the hot tub that JJ so graciously purchased for you all a few months back. Everyone was slugging down beers and having a big night of fun.

"I dare you to read the last text message you sent out loud." JB said shrugging, showing us that's all he has prepared. "oh man, too easy!" Cleo flung her arms upwards then reached for her phone. After she got to her messages she cleared her throat. " 'What we gonna do tonight?' I sent that to Sarah man." John B rolled his eyes in defeat, secretly hoping she had sent a naughty message to Pope or something.

"Okay Y/N, truth or dare?" She moved on quickly. "Dare of course." You responded, causing JJ to look at you with a slight smile. You and JJ are best friends, and always have been. Of course everyone in that hot tub was your best friend, but JJ was different, you could talk about literally anything for hours on end. He's always been there for you.

"I dare you to prank call Rafe Cameron. Pretend to want him and need him." Cleo ended with a smirk pointing to your phone. You didn't mind the dare but a certain blonde about a foot behind you definitely cared. He wasn't good at hiding his emotions, everything he wanted to say was already written on his face. "I don't think that's a good idea Y/N." You hear JJ say with a stern voice from behind you. "Oh calm your tits Jayj, what's the worst that could happen? I get a boyfriend?" You responded making all the girls giggle.

"It's ringing!" Kiara said out loud so everyone knew what was going on. Kiara was very close to the phone with you but it was pressed against your ear. "Hey Rafe!" You said a little too enthusiastic for JJ's liking. "Hey, Y/N. What do I owe this pleasant surprise?" He asked, gratefully. "Well I really wanted to tell you that I think of you a lot Rafe. It's getting to be too much now. I can't shake the feeling of needing to be with you." Everyone was giggling at that moment, other than one person, I'm sure you could guess who. Your eyes caught JJ's as he rolled them and crossed his arms. You could see how this was affecting him, so why not play some more. "Wow, I've been wai-" You cut Rafe's sentence short. "Rafe, mmmmm I need you so bad right now. Ohhhh." You pretend to moan into the phone. "Oh baby, are you touching yourself to me?" He asked clearly turned on. Kiara gagged and walked a few feet away. "Oh yes I am, but I wish it was you..." You paused for dramatic effect.

"Daddy." You smirked holding back a giggle, hearing Rafe groan into the phone. Next thing you know JJ is standing in front of you hanging up the call, fuming. He was legitimately tomato red. Everyone watched, curious about what he was going to do.

He grabbed your waist pulling you as close as he could while looking into your eyes. "Don't you ever pull that shit again." His eyes never left yours. You wanted to stand up for yourself but the only thing that left your mouth was "o-okay." He leaned down to whisper in your ear. "Good girl." There was that feeling of butterflies in your stomach. JJ never made you feel this way. What was happening? "When this little party is over you're coming to my room, we have things to talk about." He whispered again.

Everyone sat back down choosing to ignore how JJ nearly killed/fucked you right then and there. You chose to ignore it as well even though the tingling between your legs is making it difficult.

Instead of you asking the next question Pope cut the tension and began after Sarah. "Truth or dare?" He asked. Sarah obviously chose the safe route at this moment. "Is it true that even though you and JB are married, you'll still have a huge wedding and legally do it?" Pope asked. Awe of course he would, it's Pope. Sarah nodded "Of course I still want my dream wedding! Don't be silly Pope." She giggled.

"Okay J- Kiara, yeah Kiara. Truth or dare?" No one could look at JJ right now how would they be able to play this game right now?

"I'll say, truth." She smiled lightly. "Ok here's a little would you rather. Would you rather, fuck Topper or Kelce?" Kiara gasped. "Ew, can I kill myself instead?" She gagged. Everyone laughed and accepted that as her answer.

Eventually someone asked JJ the question and he ended up chugging some beer upside down. You still couldn't get those low-flying butterflies to go away. The thought of JJ taking you right there was fogging your brain.

After about an hour longer everyone was headed home or to bed. Pope and Cleo went back to the Heywards and Kiara went back to her house. Sarah decided to stay at the chateau with John B, then of course JJ asked you to go to his room and talk with him.

You sat on JJ's bed after getting your shower, you waited for him to finish up in the shower. JJ left some of his clothes on his bed for you to change into.

Next thing you knew, you were under JJ, making out with him on his bed. You had no idea how you got here but you weren't going to complain.

JJ pulled you onto his lap, never disconnecting your lips from each other. He held onto your hips and pressed down as he grinded up. You moved your hips at a faster pace needing the friction. He tore his lips from yours taking a breath before speaking. "Truth or dare?" He asked as you rolled your eyes. JJ gave you a look that said 'just answer it'. So you did. "Dare." You said with confidence streaming through your veins. JJ rubbed your hips, slowly reaching for your butt to squeeze.

"Strip for me baby." He said as he squeezed. You blushed not knowing how to react. "Come on baby, let me see that gorgeous body you've got hiding under my baggy clothes." When JJ said that, you began to melt. You decided to just take your shirt off while on his lap. You weren't wearing a bra so he got quite the show very quickly. You got off of him as he pushed himself to sit on the edge of his bed. The idea to strip tease JJ came to your mind so that's exactly what you did.

At some point when you were completely naked, you wanted to tease him so you sat on his lap and pulled one of his hands forward to your aching hole. You teased yourself with his fingers, secretly wanting him to continue what you had started. Which he had no problem with doing. He pushed two fingers inside of you causing a gasp and moan mix, to fall from your lips.

JJ's hand raced to cover your mouth. "Shhhh you have to be quiet, baby, or we'll get caught." He whispered in your ear. You nodded and bit your lip as JJ moved his fingers back and forth in your tight hole. JJ was making you so wet, your pussy was so loud that you might just get caught by being fingered. "Tell your pussy to be quiet." He giggled in your ear. "Tell your fingers to stop making me feel so good then." You moaned leaning your head back onto his shoulder.

JJ smirked to himself, knowing he was doing a good job. He sped up trying to make you cum but you suddenly felt embarrassed. "JJ- this f-eels so g-good..but I think I have to go..to the bathroom-" That was music to JJ's ears. His movements only got faster, he moved your hand to your clit so you could help by rubbing yourself.

"JJ- I-I" A loud squeal started erupting from your mouth. JJ slapped his hand across your mouth. One more swift push into your pussy and he pulled out, a gush of fluid came rushing out. You kept moaning into his hand. He continued playing with your cunt until you were done squirting.

"Something tells me you've never done that before baby."

#outer banks #jj maybank #obx fic #rudy pankow smut #rudy pankow x reader #obx x reader #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #smut prompts

[boop-le-snoot]

masterlist

cherry pt. 1 🍒

gif by @taiturner

touch-starved!fem!reader x touch-starved, shy daryl dixon. this is pure tooth-rotting fluff with protective daryl, set somewhere in alexandria. the reader is a medic, this is a sweet build-up to smut which is going to be in part 2.

3.5k words, suitable for everyone. reader is referred to as "she", written in 3rd person, mostly daryl's pov, all lowercase. title from the lana song cherry because lana + norman = *author barks incoherently and descends into insanity*

her knee landed between his legs with a soft thud. the meat of his thigh surrounded by her legs as he sat under the yellow overhead lamp, daryl's chest rose and fell steadily, caramel skin marred by a deep red welt.

he stunk like bloody sweat, moist soil and gunpowder and lead.

"I'll inject a local," she mumbled, tapping on the glass vial before inserting the syringe and filling it up with a clear liquid, "you gonna need some twenty stitches, boyo."

"you dun' hafta," he, nonetheless, winced; the welt went across his chest, over his pectoral and almost to his collarbone. all and all, far from the worst he's had.

painkillers were a luxury, better spent on someone else, someone not like him. but he knew better than to argue with a medic (or someone filling the position of one, for that matter).

the woman's scent enveloped his senses in an opaque fog of sweet summer sweat over sharp, cheap laundry powder. something bitter, like rosemary and thyme, something sweet, like cherries and wine.

daryl's eyelashes fluttered as the needle pierced his skin: once, twice, five times, all around the jagged edges of the torn wound. the breath he was holding in left his mouth in a humid huff.

her hands, so gentle, prodded at the edges of his hurt until he could answer her question of 'feel anything?' negative, honestly. briefly, the acrid stench of rubbing alcohol overshadowed everything else as she sterilized everything, the tools and him, to the best of her ability.

he opened his eyes.

"now," she lifted her clever eyes, surveying the scene, "I'm gonna perch myself here," she moved that much closer, one knee between his legs, the other on the side of his leg; hovering over the same leg, facing his reclined torso, "you tell me if you're uncomfortable. that's the only light here, I don't mean to invade your personal space like that."

he could have laughed, if not for the risk of disrupting her careful stitching of his flesh.

"don'tcha worry 'bout it, pretty girl," his voice gravelly low, daryl did his best to stay still.

she chuckled softly, "bet you say that to anyone who can stitch you up in an even line."

"no," he scoffed, surprising himself, "jus' you. rick's hardly a pretty girl."

her hands stilled, eyes momentarily darting to his. the yellow light reflected in them, giving her pupils a red-hot gleam, as if devil himself had taken a sharp turn and went to seek refuge inside her instead of coming down to georgia.

he studied it, studied his own blurry, open-mouthed, panting reflection in the pupils of the woman currently perched atop his lap. then the realisation hit him, like a derailed runaway train, and he immediately withdrew to count the cracks in the ceiling.

she cleared her throat, resuming the rhythmical push and pull of the needle.

"didn't know rick could do that."

daryl attempted to shrug - stopping it before the motion reached his shoulders - and grunted instead.

she continued to stitch, the suddenly pregnant silence punctuated by the crinkling of a wrapper. an extra large, sterile bandaid was placed over the wound after she applied something green and foul-smelling atop the now-closed gash; his grunted query was met with a curt,

"antiseptic."

and he was let go with instructions to return the next day for a dressing change.

he lied to himself. he waited until it was dark to show up the next day, well into the summer night, just to be placed in the same position - under the lone hanging lamp, under her.

cherries and wine, rosemary and thyme, complimented by a trail of herbal tea. she smelled like peaches, too, this time. or, perhaps, it were the blooming trees outside her window that snuck their sweet aroma indoors.

"healing nicely," she remarked off-handedly, seemingly oblivious to the rising level of his tension and his inner turmoil. "the pain not too bad? you seem grumpy. grumpier than usual."

this time, he waited until she removed herself from his form to bark a terse laugh.

"no, pretty girl," he eyed her in the dusky, dusty room and received a crooked smile for his troubles, "long day 'is all."

"tell me about it," she huffed, shoulders sagging a bit more than he would have liked.

"who's the prick bothering ya?" he couldn't help it, his mind immediately went... places. surely, he wasn't the only one who noticed her pretty.

"no-one but my own damn brain," she scoffed, seemingly at herself, "and maybe the dick from number 17. it's like he's doing it on purpose."

"doin' what now?" daryl's voice dropped, his eyes squinted. his palm migrated to the handle of his knife, a gesture utterly subconscious.

"gettin' injured," she grumbled, no real heat behind her words, "got shot with a dart last week, sprained his ankle on a routine perimeter check today. how did that man serve 6 years in the army is beyond me."

daryl's head tilted as his chest tensed, heart thudded uncomfortably against his ribs.

"isn't carol taking care of all the broken bones?" he asked, tone laced with suspicion.

she turned to face him; he felt, more than saw, the annoyed roll of her eyes.

"he demands a real doctor," the woman shook off the wrapper before leaning back into him and placing it over his wound in one swift, irritated gesture, "how come nobody's told him I'm just a good faker? everyone knows by this point. all he does is waste resources-"

"woah, woah," daryl's voice rose briefly as he attempted to halt the incoming ramble. not that he didn't want to hear what she had to say, it was just unusual to see the quiet woman so... not herself.

"sorry," she shot immediately, looking away, "he just gives me the creeps. I know it's mean but-"

"no," daryl shook his head immediately, "if he's botherin' you, he's botherin' you and he needa back off."

she chuckled as she leaned back to observe the results of her work. her eyes were tired and a little ashamed. "say whatchu want but you southern fellas are real gentlemen," her smile was soft.

nobody has ever spoken to him like that, much less referred to him as a gentleman. through the momentary awe, daryl let the corners of his lips tilt up in a closed-lipped, shy smile.

he didn't return the next day, and the day after, having been deemed healthy enough by rick to be sent off to hunt some game - all activities classified as "takin' it easy" by the community leader. people needed food, growing kids needed the protein.

the gash on his chest bled a little, not much, and the scab that formed afterwards looked proper, thick and healthy.

as he reached the gates upon his return, he could make out some shouting just on the border of the little gated town. a few voices did their best to be heard, one right over the other.

"whazzat?" he quizzed the guard.

"lil doctor lady," the guard responded, frowning, squinting into the distance, "and big john, arguin' over something. dunno what. rick's there too."

daryl did not like the sound of that. he didn't like that at all. he dumped the three deer right there on the muddy ground as soon as he crossed the threshold of the safe zone, powerwalking towards the arguing trio.

"... 'm tellin' ya, rick, she's makin' shit up! I risk my life every day goin' out and patrollin', getting the damn supplies so she could patch me up like she's s'posed to!" big john, red in the face and fists clenched, stood looming over rick as he defended himself to the unimpressed sheriff, "'s'not like I broke my damn arm on purpose!"

immediately, daryl's bullshit meter went off as alarms blared in his head at full volume. big john's words were a little too loud, a little too passionate.

rick's eyes darted towards daryl's rapidly approaching form; that was all he needed to know about the situation.

"if that were true, you'd have no problem with carol attending to you, man," for the time being, rick successfully played the good cop.

"she's not even a real doctor!"

"neither am I!" the woman finally spoke up, shooting a glance at daryl, too, as her shoulders dropped slightly.

"hey, what's your fuckin' problem?" daryl finally stomped close enough for big john to jump at his words.

"none of your damn business," he shot back immediately, switching to stare down at the woman. it wasn't hard for him to make her shrink: his name was big john for a reason.

"don't bother tha nice lady," daryl scoffed, straightening up, "least you want a fuckin' knuckle sandwich. first and final warning."

"oh, fuck you man," big john turned to daryl, taking a step towards the archer, chest puffing out with the force of his rage. his left hand was in a makeshift cast; the right one rose, rapidly flying, aimed at daryl's face.

it didn't take the archer much effort to side-step the large man. he was immediately responding with a punch of his own.

big john staggered, taking a couple of unsteady steps back; within the next second, another punch connected with his face, sending blood and snot flying as he fell on the ground noisily.

"that's enough!" rick yelled, pulling on daryl's shoulder.

for the time being, the archer was content to let himself be steered away from the fight.

somewhere behind him, a feminine voice mumbled something less-than-polite, sighing, as she joined rick in pulling him away from big john.

"you stay away from her, dipshit!" daryl added hotly, "fuckin' weirdo."

"c'mon big guy," she cooed softly, nodding to rick as she steered him towards her house, "let's get you cleaned up."

he let her drag him indoors, towards the kitchen sink where the smell of herbs was the most potent. throughout the dirt and grime that always followed his hunts, it was a welcome respite. earthy and natural in the best, the most tender of ways.

the woman checked his knuckles, tugging on his big, meaty hand to place it under a stream of cold tap water; his skin was clear, once the grime and blood and dirt was washed off. a coupla punches was nothing, his knuckles too seasoned to sustain an injury from something as simple as a fistfight.

in broad daylight, there was no need for her to perch atop him to check the wound on his chest.

daryl swallowed, following her hands with his eyes. in her pristine, clean kitchen, he'd never felt more out of place as she moved aside the neck of his sweat-stained shirt and touched the soft skin of her fingertips to the scab, checking for infection.

the corners of her mouth finally, finally tilted up. an angry, upset expression had no place on her face; daryl could feel himself deflate as the cloud over the head of the little doctor lady finally, finally dissipated.

"you didn't even tear the stitches, I'm impressed," she complimented him softly, brushing the shirt collar back in place and smoothing it out with her palm, "they're dissolvable, luckily. go wash up and come back, I'll put some antibiotic ointment on it just in case. okay?"

her touch burned, but it was a sweet sort of fire. the kind that remained in his mouth after a particularly delicious batch of spicy wings, blooming as he took a deep breath.

he wanted to chase it with his tongue.

his nostrils flared as he exhaled.

"okay, dar?"

she had a nickname for him. she stared at him with those round, trusting eyes, not knowing that in truth, he was no better than big john.

daryl's cheeks flamed.

"okay," he mumbled, unable to refuse her anything when her eyes.., "dun look at me like dat."

"like what?" she frowned again and oh no, this was so much worse than the earnest concern written plain as day on her face just seconds ago.

his heart hammered in his chest. his fingers twitched. he swallowed the lump in his throat, shuffled his feet.

"cya," finally, his legs cooperated! he ran out of the house like the coward that he was.

he didn't come back as she'd requested. he couldn't. instead, he stubbornly stood under an ice cold stream of water, as long as could manage - and it did exactly nada for his racing thoughts or his traitorous body.

the soap carol had made smelled like herbs.

it smelled like the kitchen where tender fingers prodded at his skin, where soft hair briefly brushed his cheek, where the overhead lamp illuminated a halo around the head of the woman that found a home inside his head on most nights.

dusk fell over the settlement as a knock disturbed the miniscule amount of peace he'd managed to find for himself in the darkness of the basement.

"daryl?" rick's voice yelled, "I gotta favour to ask!"

he was there in an instant. "whassup?"

"the doctor lady. big john's bin runnin' his mouth since dinner, ion like it. I think he's gonna be up to no good."

what daryl liked about rick was his straightforwardness and common sense. such concern had place to be. daryl nodded, walking inside to put on a clean shirt and pick up his crossbow.

"I appreciate it," rick clapped him on the shoulder, "I'd stick around myself but judy is teething and michonne has been up for three nights already, m'afraid she's gonna..."

"no probl'm, rick, ah get it," daryl cut off the rambling man, "you go take care of your baby girl."

as daryl made way to the woman's house, his mind switched to defense mode effortlessly. he knew just the perfect spot to perch himself in, away from prying eyes and well within the observation range of the entries to her house. it wasn't the most comfortable of spots but summer nights were warm and the birdsong from the trees provided a childhood sort of comfort under the clear, dark skies.

as he prepared to settle in, the main door to her house cracked open.

she wore short, thin cotton shorts and a worn out t-shirt and nothing else, a steaming cup of tea clutched securely between her palms. her eyes immediately landed on his dark figure attempting to blend into the dusky underbrush.

"I thought you'd be a no-show," she remarked, a playful tone colouring her voice.

daryl had enough conscience to look sheepish. "uhh," he replied, eloquently, taking a hesitant step towards her house. the light breeze blew the hot fumes of her tea right into his nose, momentarily clouding his judgement. he barely could tear his eyes away from the soft, unblemished skin of her legs.

"c'mon," she waved him in, and he followed, obedient, quiet, like a puppy. she made a brief stop at the stove before pushing a cup into his hands, "I made some tea. not terribly sweet for you, I hope. you seem like a black coffee kinda guy."

the upbeat, companionable chatter sent daryl's head reeling. it's like she was completely oblivious to his clumsiness, to his bluntness, to the awkwardness that seemed to take deep root in his bones whenever he was in her presence.

he took a sip, a courtesy, as she made him sit in that recliner chair again, her body warm and comfortable above him. isn't that what you wanted, moron? his head screamed at him, the annoying voice eerily similar to his late brother's.

"it's okay to let me know you're uncomfortable," she spoke quietly as she moved aside the collar of his shirt once more.

he shivered, it's not like he could help himself. "wha?"

"not everyone likes to be... touched," she briefly looked up, then back again as she rubbed the salve around his scabs, sharp chemicals and plastic disturbing the peaceful aroma of her herbal tea, "my ma used to yell at me to, like... stop hugging random people. sometimes I forget that not everyone is perfectly fine with jus' bein' groped."

"hmm," he managed, struggling not to sound like all of his christmases just had arrived at once. she wanted to touch him. well, not just him-

"these days, I'm not particularly keen on that either, but eventually, the touch starvation catches up to me. I'm just glad that, like, carol and rosita don't freak out or anything, when I play octopus with 'em."

"it's... okay," he had to drink to clear his throat, inhale to clear his mind. "ion mind, pretty girl," daryl tried for a smile and was sure it came more like a grimace. he desperately needed practice in that department.

she chuckled, a dulcet little noise, before her eyes shot up to his. whatever she was looking for, she found it; her hands, done with healing his external wounds, stroked slowly over his shoulders, mapping the broad, muscular expanse of them in one fluid motion. the tips of his hair tickled the tops of her palms.

with only a thin cotton barrier separating daryl's skin from hers, it was as close to heaven as he will ever allowed to be. the cup in his hand scalded his rough palms, hot ceramic burning through the callouses: it was like an afterthought of pain and nothing more.

her fingers connected behind his neck, the pads rubbing over the tense muscle there. the groan left his mouth unnoticed by him, until he could feel the smile on her face bloom just like the flowers outside her window.

"you like that?"

"mmm," he managed, weakly. something inside of him was crumbling. maybe it was the tea that had filled his veins with melted sugar and liquified the strong resolve to not let someone like her be tainted by someone like him.

she kept on kneading his neck and shoulders, like a damn cat working graveyard shift at the biscuit cookie factory.

daryl's deep inhale moved his whole body.

she staggered, brief and sweet, tilting heavily into him to keep up her balance and stop herself from falling over. graceful, she was not.

he was met with a parted mouth, so sweet and red and plump, like ripe cherries; right over his nose, just out of reach, sinful and tantalising in it's own right. the pink, moist meat of her tongue was tucked into the corner of it as her eyes narrowed, something between relief and concentration.

seeing him look, the mouth stretched into a smile, making it that much sweeter. she was looking at him, again, like- like that.

her hands faltered, she swayed in place; daryl's instincts got the better of him and he secured her, one hand holding her body by the hip to steady the sudden bout of clumsiness.

"m'sorry, imma klutz," she looked away sheepishly.

he squeezed her hip on response, letting her know it was okay. and it really was more than that: much to his wide-eyed wonder. he felt like he was the one who should be doing the apologizing. but not only did she not shake off his hand, oh no, she leaned further into him, her belly almost touching his bent forearm.

it took a gargantuan amount of effort just to not pull her in all the way. she was most inviting to touch, all soft curves courtesy of semi-regular meals and tender skin despite the blazing summer sun.

daryl's thumb moved up and down the cotton of her shorts absent-mindedly. the sweet little sighs falling from her lips were hard to miss. almost as if it was someone else pushing her into his arms, a well-meaning ghost perhaps; she tilted in on herself to soak up the warmth of his large, hot body.

a trail of goosebumps ran across his scalp, starting from the place she was rubbing gentle circles into it - at the back of his head, where his hairline met his nape. if he was capable of purring, he would.

instead, he groaned again, eyelashes fluttering, casting a moving shadow on his sharp cheeks. his reward was an equally-content sounding sigh as it drafted into his nose, warm and earthy.

the empty cup thudded against the table where he placed it.

her fingers parted his hair gingerly, taking great care to avoid potential tangles. some finer, smaller hairs still pulled, taking some of his self-deprecation and resolve with 'em as the motion traversed his body in a jolt and settled somewhere deep inside the pit of his belly.

this was getting dangerous.

daryl opened his eyes and stared up.

#daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fluff #daryl x you #daryl x y/n #daryl x reader #daryl x female reader #twd fanfiction #daryl is so puppydog #i wanna pet him

[prythianpages]

Stuck On You | Bonus Part

cassian x reader | this is just a fluffy bonus scene that takes place after the final part. your first Solstice night with the inner circle :) and your little sister lowkey being a menace

“Don’t worry. She likes your butt and fancy hair. I know, I read her diary.”

[part one] [part two] [part three] [part four] [final part]

a/n: I just realized that Christmas is this weekend so how fitting for this. Happy holidays! <3

**

The kitchen of the Townhouse bustled with activity, pots simmering on the stove that filled the air with an enticing aroma. You kneaded the cookie dough that Seraphine had begged you to make, pulling it apart and rolling each piece into a small ball. Seraphine sat on top of the kitchen counter with a mischievous gleam in her eyes as she snatched a piece of the dough and popped it into her mouth. She had promised to help you but her way of helping consisted of keeping you entertained with her company.

“Sera,” you chided after her, slapping her hand away when she reached for more. “You’ll spoil your dinner.”

Strong arms wrapped around you from behind and you instinctively leaned into your mate’s warm embrace. “My girls,” Cassian greeted, pressing a kiss to your temple.

He reached one hand over to Seraphine and ruffled her hair in a loving manner, making her grin. “What are you up to?”

“Baking cookies!” Sera chirped.

Cassian hummed and then he picked at the dough in your hands, popping it into his mouth the same way Sera had just moments ago. You shot him a glare and Seraphine giggled. Cassian pulled away, his eyes darting around the busy kitchen. “You did this all on your own?”

“Told her she didn’t have to.” Another voice chimed in. Azriel’s. “But she didn’t listen.”

“I just want tonight to go well.” You said with a sigh, turning around to face Cassian and if he hadn’t already sensed your worry through the bond, he definitely would’ve picked up on it now.

You were nervous to meet the last two members of the Inner Circle: Morrigan and Amren. It was similar to the way you had been nervous around Rhysand and Azriel initially. It didn’t take long for them to warm up to you and you to them, especially after they found out you were Cassian's mate. They happily accepted you as a sister along with Seraphine.

You knew your worrying over Amren and Morrigan was borderline unreasonable but you couldn’t help the anxious flutter in your stomach. They were Cassian’s family and as his mate, you wanted to leave a good first impression. 

“Relax.” Cassian’s lips tugged up into a soft smile. “They’re going to love you.”

**

The scent of pine wafted through the air, its source the beautifully decorated tree that stood proudly in the corner. Its branches were adorned with ornaments, some old and some new, that you, Seraphine and Cassian had arranged earlier. You had reached for a glittery star next but Seraphine had stopped you, claiming she had a better idea for what to put at the top of the tree.

Rhysand, Azriel and you watched as Cassian lifted Seraphine onto his shoulders and approached the tree. She kept the object in her hands well hidden and instructed you all to close your eyes for the surprise. You heard Azriel’s chuckle before Seraphine allowed you all to open your eyes again, sensing that his shadows must’ve alerted him of Seraphine’s tree topper.

“How does it look?” Seraphine asked with a sparkle in her eye. 

“A little off center. Move it more to the right.”

“Oh! Thanks, Azzy!”

Your eyebrows knitted together as you looked up at the tree topper. Blinking your eyes, you did your best to discern the drawing. It was a scribble of wild lines that formed a figure, who had its eyes where what appeared to be its forehead, but no other facial features. You felt Rhysand’s and Azriel’s gaze on you, silently asking for guidance but you gave them a subtle shake of your head and Cassian laughed at the sight. He didn’t appear to be as confused as you three.

Picking up on the confusion on your faces, Seraphine rolled her eyes. “It’s me!” She grinned and then with a giggle, she added: “I’m the star of this family!”

“Sera, it’s…,” you trailed off, bringing your hand to your mouth to hold back the laugh that threatened to slip out at the drawing. Tears then pricked your eyes as the meaning behind her words sunk in. This family.

“Of course you are!” Cassian exclaimed with a smile. He lifted Seraphine off of his shoulders and bopped her nose before gently setting her down. His gaze lingered on her but he sent reassurance and love through the bond.

“It’s beautiful.”

“I love it.”

Seraphine beamed at Rhysand and Azriel and then she was running to you. Her hand grasped yours, tugging on it as she looked up at you. “Can we open presents now?”

“We haven’t even had dinner yet,” you reminded, blinking back the few tears that had pricked your eyes. “Besides, we’re still waiting on–”

As if on cue, the door was opening and Seraphine’s head perked up, her entire face lighting up. Two females strolled into the sitting room and you felt yourself grow nervous in anticipation.

“Wow! I’ve never seen this house so festive!” The taller of the two females spoke. Her long blonde hair fell back and rich brown eyes sparkled as they darted around the room. She moved with an effortless grace and when her gaze landed on you, there was a dazzling smile on her face.

“This is all Cassian’s doing?” The shorter female asked, voice laced with skepticism. Her silver eyes found the Illyrian male in question immediately and she rose a perfect brow at him.

“You dare doubt my capabilities?”

“It was all y/n,” Azriel snitched and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t delight in the bickering that followed.

“y/n!” The blonde enthused, as if she’s known you for years. She approached you and pulled you into a bone crushing hug. “I’m Mor! It’s so nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you! And who is this lovely little lady?”

Mor pulled away, smiling down at your sister, who became shy all of a sudden. She peeked out from behind you to look at Mor and you gave her a small push, encouraging her to answer. “Seraphine,” she replied quietly.

“So this is the famous y/n that Cassian wouldn’t stop talking about for seven years.”  The shorter female said, who you suspected was Amren by the air of quiet elegance she carried with her. Her height was also a give away as Cassian had once referred to her as “tiny ancient one” and you now understood why.

“I get that a lot,” you commented and turned to Cassian. “Wait a minute. Seven years?”

“I’ve heard a lot about you, too.” Amren’s attention landed on Seraphine but yours remained fixated on your mate’s, who was rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding your gaze. You’d understand if it was all recent but seven years? What could Cassian possibly have had to say about you back then that would warrant such a comment from Amren?

 “Don’t ask,” Rhysand told you. He chuckled and shook his head. His warning was all you needed to confirm your thoughts. A rush of warmth flooded your cheeks as Cassian’s gaze finally met yours and you couldn’t help but notice a telltale flush coloring his skin as well.

“Quick, girl.” Amren called to you, her silver eyes scrutinizing you with an almost mischievous glint. Holding up her fingers, she challenged you.  “How many fingers am I holding?”

“Three,” You replied, your eyes attentively tracking her hand as it moved side to side and then up and down.  

Mor, watching the scene unfold, couldn’t help but interrupt. Her voice was tinged with slight embarrassment and her gaze flickered to you apologetically. “What are you doing? You’re going to scare her away and we’ve just met her!”

Amren continued, undeterred. “Just checking if her visual system is intact. I see what he saw in you but what did you see in this big brute?”

“Hey!” Cassian exclaimed with a playful glare and you burst into laughter.

“This big brute,” you started, your tone was soft and gentle, holding nothing but affection toward Cassian. He took the moment to approach you, intertwining his fingers with yours. “He’s my mate.”

“Ah, so that explains the new smell.” Amren’s nose slightly crinkled, her gaze darting between you and Cassian, as if trying to decipher the smell of your newfound bond. Mor let out a gasp, her smile widening into an amused grin.

“What’s a mate?” Seraphine asked with curiosity.

“It’s when two people are meant to be together,” Mor whispered to her.

“I want a mate!” Seraphine innocently shouted, her eyes wide in wonder, sparking laughter around the room.

“Alright,” Rhysand clasped his hands together. “Let’s eat dinner.”

“And then gifts!” Seraphine added with excitement.

“Yes.” You and Cassian said in unison, relieved for a distraction.

You all followed Rhysand into the dining room. A rich tapestry and flickering candles decorated the table along with all the dishes you had prepared for tonight. Cassian placed his hand on the small of your back as he guided you. He pulled two chairs, motioning for you and Seraphine to sit before taking the remaining empty seat beside you. His touch never left you while you ate dinner, choosing to rest his hand on your thigh.

Mor engaged you in conversation, eager to get to know you more. She was excited over you and Seraphine joining the family and you were too. 

“I like you,” Seraphine reveled as she gazed up at Amren. You had noticed that the two had been talking a lot more than you expected them to during dinner. “You’re so cool.”

“I like you too, girl.” Amren replied, the corner of her lips tugging into the faintest of a smile.

“Probably because you’re just her size.” Cassian mumbled under his breath and you nearly choked on your whine, catching the immediate glare Amren sent his way.

As the evening descended, a soft snowfall painted a beautiful scene outside the townhouse’s windows as you all headed back to the sitting room. Seraphine sat herself between Amren and Mor, any traces of the shyness she had shown initially was long gone. Cassian sat in the armchair that had a low back to accommodate for Illyrian wings and you perched yourself on the armest. Your body leaned against him for support, his wing curling around you and it was natural the way your fingers brushed through his hair. 

You all allowed Seraphine to open her gifts first. She received many toys and trinkets and much to your dismay, her favorite seemed to be the cymbals Azriel gifted. She clashed the thin metal plates eagerly. You winced at the loud sound and were filled with dread. She was definitely going to be putting this gift to use.

“You should make a song just for Cassian.” Azriel quipped and Seraphine nodded her head enthusiastically.

“What did I ever do to you?” You said to Azriel.

Azriel grinned. “You chose to love my brother.”

“Don’t worry, Sweetheart.” Cassian whispered to you. “She’ll forget all about it in a couple of seconds.”

Cassian then reached for a box that was littered with holes. He had snuck off earlier to retrieve it and carefully set it on the floor, encouraging Sera to open it. Her mouth parted in a silent scream with wide eyes as she picked up the small kitten you and Cassian had gotten for her.

“It’s so cute and fluffy! Thank you! Thank you!” She cried, cuddling the adorable bundle of black fur to her chest. “I’m going to name it Stitch!”

“Stitch?” Cassian repeated and you tugged at his hair. He cleared his throat. “What a lovely name.”

“My turn!” Seraphine said excitedly. She set the kitten down as she ran to retrieve the drawings she had crafted for you all. She had drawn some last minute for Amren and Mor.

“What are these?” Azriel asked as he looked at his drawing, even though he already had a small suspicion. Seraphine peered over, pointing at the dark spots that framed Azriel’s figure on the paper. 

“They’re your shadows! This one is Jumba and that one over there is Pleakley.”

Rhysand held up his drawing beside his own face, eyebrows drawn together in concern. “Is my nose really this big?”

“Sera!” You scolded, blush rising to your cheeks in second hand embarrassment. While you now regarded Rhysand as a friend and brother, he was still your High Lord.

Cassian burst into laughter followed by Seraphine and then everyone else. Rhysand brushed off your worry with a smile. He found the drawing humorous, if anything, and he knew the drawing was a reference to the day he lied to Seraphine about being overloaded with invisible work.

You were almost scared when Seraphine approached you, saving you and Cassian for last. She handed you the paper, claiming that since you and Cassian were together, you only needed one drawing. Cassian rested his head against your arm as you two took in every detail.

“This is you,” Seraphine pointed at the figure with wild lines coming out of their head. “You have hearts for eyes because you’re in looove. This is Cas–” She giggled as she pointed at the figure next to it. You noticed that his hair had been carefully drawn with much more attention to detail than yours–”with his fancy hair and bu"--your gaze fell to the dramatic rendition of Cassian's backside.

“Okay!” You cut in, your heart skipping a beat. “Thank you, Sera!”

Seraphine shrugged her shoulders with a mischievous grin. “You’re very welcome, y/n.”

The night continued on with shared laughter and hugs as you all exchanged gifts. Azriel had quietly gifted you an enchanted journal, charmed so that only the owner could see its contents. A mortified expression crossed your face as realization dawned on you. It was made sense now. Your little sister had read your diary. You thanked him for both the present and the fact that he had chosen to give it to you discreetly to save you from any further embarrassment.

Seraphine was playing with her kitten, laughing as the small animal chased after a loose ribbon from the gift wrapping. The others were still engaged in the gift exchange, so Cassian took this opportunity to finally hand you a small velvet box, a secret smile playing on his lips. As you opened it, you gasped at the sight of the beautiful ring nestled within. 

“I know we agreed on a private ceremony but I wanted to get you something to commemorate our bond.” Cassian murmured, his gaze fixed on you with a fondness that spoke volumes.

The delicate golden band held a radiant diamond that caught the light in a dazzling display. You marveled at the intricate details adorning the inside, where Cassian’s name had been beautifully engraved. A small, tearful laugh escaped you.

Cassian’s concern creased his forehead, worrying that the ring was not to your liking. “What?”

You shook your head, brushing off his concern. “It’s just that I also got you a ring to commemorate our bond.”

Cassian blinked back his own tears as soon as he opened your gift. The ring was a perfect mirror to the one he had just given you. Your name was delicately engraved on the inside of the golden band similar to the way his was on yours.

“I love you,” he whispered softly, his voice filled with an unspoken depth of emotion, as he slid the ring onto your finger.

“I love you, too.” You replied, your heart swelling with the warmth of shared love and commitment. Grasping his hand in yours, you mirrored his actions.  

Smiles bloomed between you two, and as your eyes met, love hummed madly through the bond that connected your hearts.

“Time for dessert!” Seraphine’s voice rang out and in the blink of an eye, the tiny whirlwind stood in front of you. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation and her small hands grasped for yours and Cassian’s. She tugged on them desperately, a bad habit of hers, as she expressed her eagerness for the delicious treats awaiting in the kitchen–the cookies you baked and the ice cream Cassian had bought from the shop she loved.

Allowing her to lead the way, you and Cassian followed her into the kitchen. His arm was wrapped around your shoulder while Seraphine still held your hand. She leaned her head against your arm, gazing up at you with a happiness that mirrored the contentment you felt in your heart.

“We have a nice family.” She told you quietly.

“Yes, we do.” You replied, a smile gracing your lips.

Seraphine’s hand left yours and she ran to Azriel, who helped her up to one of the stools. Mor was scooping ice cream into bowls while Rhysand lectured after her, claiming that there was a specific way to do so and Mor was doing it all wrong. Amren rolled her eyes at them and Seraphine decided to chime in on the argument. You lingered under the doorway, wrapped in your mate’s warm embrace as you two watched them all from a short distance.

Your family had been broken. It had been torn apart by the sudden loss of your mother and step-father, leaving you and Seraphine alone. You thought it would always be that way but time had proven you wrong. Cassian’s head nuzzled against your shoulder, inhaling deeply before pressing a brief kiss at the nape of your neck and you felt nothing but pure warmth through the bond.

A reminder that family was not always defined by blood but by the bonds you chose to nurture.

**

a/n: once again, thank you so much for reading! <3 hope you enjoyed this little series as much as I enjoyed writing it. I think I've watched Lilo & Stitch like four times while writing this lol

tagging: @kemillyfreitas, @wallacewillow0773638 @justdreamstars @63angel @starsinyourseyes @fightmedraco

#cassian x reader #cassian x you #acotar cassian #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #cassian imagine #cassian fluff #cassian angst #cassian smut #acotar fanfiction

[makoodles]

Soooo I dunno if ur up for it but can we get a continuation of the baby fever thing where tsu'tey and s/o adopt spider but now it's in the future kinda like pre avatar 2 where spider is a teenager. Nothing angsty I just wanna read how Tsu'tey teaches spider things and spider calls him dad and spider finally getting that family love (I would literally die for this little boy I- *explodes*)

this is called having no self control btw! this was meant to be a 500 word drabble lol, but since you all love dad!tsu'tey so much, here we go!

continuation of baby fever

part one

pairing: tsu'tey x human fem reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: none!

tags: fluff, dad!tsu'tey, adopted spider, pregnancy mention

"Dad, you're drawing them on crooked!" Spider complains, leaning away from his hands.

Tsu'tey frowns, looking down at his work. "They are not crooked."

"They are! Look!"

The stripes that Tsu'tey has painted onto Spider's fragile human skin upon his insistence do not looked crooked to Tsu'tey's eye, but he squints closer at them anyway.

"They look fine to me, maitan." He says with a sigh, dipping his fingers back into the paint dye and finishing up on the last stripe he had been working on. "Look at my stripes - they are not perfectly even."

Spider grumbles, but goes quiet as he darts a look at Tsu'tey's stripes. Seeing proof that Tsu'tey's stripes are not perfectly symmetrical seems to be enough to soothe him, at least for the moment.

When the kelku entrance rustles, Tsu'tey does not need to turn around to know that it's you. He knows you by the sound of your footsteps and the way your hands coast so softly over the broad expanse of his shoulders.

"Hello, boys," You murmur, leaning in to press a kiss to Tsu'tey's cheek. His ears twitch happily, and you move back to avoid getting hit with one, "Oh, Spider. The stripes again? That stuff is so hard to wash off-"

"That's the point, ma." He says, craning his head around to look at you. "I want it to last. I'm faster when I've got the stripes."

"Finished." Tsu'tey murmurs, clasping his son's shoulder before pushing himself to his feet.

Spider stands too, and Tsu'tey looks down at him thoughtfully. The stripes are a little jagged, though there's no way that Tsu'tey will ever admit that. More than anything, his attention catches on how grown Spider has become. He is still small, only reaching Tsu'tey's navel, but he has grown taller than you. His shoulders have broadened, growing thick with muscle from his long days running and playing with Na'vi children. It has always been more difficult for him to keep up, but the result of his tenacity is the impressively defined musculature at such a young age.

"We are going fishing, yawntutsyìp." Tsu'tey says to you, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "We will be back soon."

"I'll catch you a big one, ma." Spider adds, pushing masked face into your neck in a hug before bouncing away.

"Did you see!" Spider is still enthusing about his catch the whole walk back to the village.

"I saw." Tsu'tey confirms. The woven basket with their catch is slung over his shoulder, and a content sort of smirk is playing around his mouth as he watches Spider bounce over the tree roots.

"It was huge, and I nearly missed it but then I managed to hit it right as it darted out from behind those big rocks-"

"It was very impressive." Tsu'tey intones, reaching out to ruffle at Spider's hair.

Spider is still grinning, flying high on the success of his mini hunt. "I told you that the stripes made me faster!"

Tsu'tey lets out a rumbly sort of laugh, letting his hand drop from the top of Spider's head to the back of his neck and letting it rest there. His son is growing older, becoming a man, and yet he is still so small under Tsu'tey's hands. He feels a flare of vicious protectiveness deep in his chest, but that's nothing new.

"It was a very good catch, maitan." He murmurs, squeezing lightly at Spider's shoulders.

Spider looks down at his feet as he skips over another exposed tree root. "Do you think I'll be a good hunter?"

Tsu'tey tilts his head, and catches at Spider's bicep as he slips on moss. Once he is sure that he's stable on his feet, he releases his arm and pats him on the back.

"Yes. You have a good teacher." He bares his teeth at Spider in a grin, and gets a little smile in return. "But even if your talents do not lie in hunting, that will be okay. No matter what your skills are, I will be proud of you, my boy."

Spider's cheeks redden, but he smiles back all the same. The corners of his eyes crinkle just like yours do, and Tsu'tey's heart swells at the similarity between the two of you. His precious little family.

When they enter the village, you're waiting by one of the cookfires. You're fiddling with a couple of beads, and Tsu'tey recognises that you're weaving together a hair decoration.

"Yawntu," Tsu'tey calls as he approaches with Spider at his hip. "Look at what our son caught."

Spider takes the basket from him and bounds forward, grinning wide behind his mask as he proffers it at you. You make a big show of oohing and ahhing as you look into the basket, looking very impressed indeed.

"What big fish," You say. "These could feed the whole village for days!"

It had taken Tsu'tey quite some time to learn how to read the body language of Sky People, but even he can see how pleased Spider is. If he had a tail, it would be swishing wildly.

"I'm gonna go show Lo'ak." Spider says with a grin. "He couldn't catch anything yesterday! Jake isn't as good a teacher, I guess."

"Spider." You scold, giving him a look.

"Go, show Lo'ak." Tsu'tey encourages. "Make sure that Jakesully sees too. Show him that my son is a fine hunter."

"Tsu'tey!" You chide, delivering a smack to his thigh.

Spider just laughs, before taking the woven basket and running with it deeper into the village towards the Sully's kelku. Tsu'tey watches him go, before turning to you with a smug little grin.

"Ma'yawntutsyìp," He murmurs, leaning forward and pressing his forehead into yours. "He did well. He is growing skilled."

You cup the back of his head with one hand, scratch at his head with your little fingers. He lets his eyes slide shut lazily as he enjoys the feeling of your warm body so close to his after a hunt. He drops his head further into the cradle between your shoulder and neck and nuzzles there.

"I do not like him hanging around with Jakesully's children," He murmurs, his voice muffled in your throat. "There are many other children in the village."

"Oh stop," You mumble, your fingers massaging at his scalp, "They’re good kids."

"Neteyam is like Neytiri. Sensible." He grunts into your skin. "But Lo’ak is like Jakesully. He will get Spider into trouble."

"Oh, Tsu'tey." You sigh in that way you usually do when you think he's being dense. "They're both good kids. Besides, he's not really going to show Lo'ak anyway. He's going to show Kiri."

His brow furrows. "Kiri? She has no interest in fishing."

You sigh again, although this time you seem a little more amused. "I seem to remember you showing off your fishing skills to me when we were younger, hm?"

"That was different," He says dismissively. "I was courting you. That was my way of expressing interest, of showing you that I am strong."

"Mhm." You say, as though you're waiting for something.

Slowly, Tsu'tey raises his head from where it's buried in your shoulder and squints at you. He's not sure if he's following what you're suggesting.

"You do not think this is the same?" He asks, frowning. "Spider is- he is too young. He cannot be thinking of mating yet-"

"Oh, he isn't." You interrupt with a quick shake of your head. "It's a little crush, love. It's sweet."

But Tsu'tey is frowning, his mind overactive. "Does she- how does Kiri feel? If she does not share his feelings, he will be so disappointed-"

"He isn't going to be proposing anytime soon, relax."

"He needs someone who will value him-"

"Tsu'tey."

He falls quiet, looking into your eyes with a thoughtful little frown. You're looking right back at him, mouth quirked.

"He's a teenager with a crush. Let him be." You murmur, stroking a thumb over one of his pointed ears and making him shiver.

Tsu'tey just grumbles. "He has not told me about a crush."

"Well, I'm sure he will," You say simply. "He's a teenage boy. He's going to be shy about it."

Tsu'tey huffs, and looks down at his hands with a scowl. The thought of his small human boy developing feelings for someone who may not return them makes him feel shifty and aggravated – how is he supposed to protect him from such a thing? It will hurt him so much, and there is nothing that Tsu'tey can do to stop it.

"Stop overthinking." You mutter, nudging against his bicep with your shoulder as you finish tying the hair decoration together. "For all you know, Kiri likes him too and is just shy about it."

Tsu'tey grunts. The thought of Spider, such a small and weak little thing, having his feelings at the mercy of Jakesully's daughter makes him feel a little as though he's losing his mind.

"Hey."

When you nudge him again, he turns to you fully. The beaded hair decoration in your hands is finished, all red beads and golden yellow feathers. You hold it up, eyes bright.

"I made this for you." You say, holding it out for him.

Tsu'tey's stern expression softens, and he ducks his head closer to you. "For me? Will you put it on, yawntu?"

Your sweet little face is so bright as you shuffle forward and reach up for his face. Tsu'tey watches you carefully, reaching out to lay his hands against your waist as you wind the beaded decoration around a small section of braids just behind his ear.

"So handsome." You coo at him when it's tucked neatly behind his ear.

Tsu'tey smiles, satisfied. "Thank you."

You sit back and then nestle into him. He opens his arms and accepts you into his side easily, resting his chin over the top of your head contently.

"Our son will be a good hunter." He says, pressing a kiss to the curve of your shoulder. "And a good brother."

His hand lands on the curve of your belly, his thumb smoothing over the swell of it beneath your woven top. You lean into his touch, sighing happily as his other hand massages at the base of your spine.

"I know," You say simply, making a soft noise when he leans down to cup below your belly with his hands, lifting some of the weight up. "You've taught him well."

Pride swells in his chest, and he purrs softly as he presses his face into your neck again. You smell so sweet and comforting, and he inhales contently against your skin.

His small son has grown so strong, and his little mate fits so perfectly into his arms, no matter how large your belly has swollen. His family is so small and weak; he holds you close as his chest rumbles, pleased that he's large and strong enough to protect you all.

#this is so fuckin self-indulgent lmaoooo #tsu'tey x reader #fluff #avatar headcanons #tsu'tey fic #avatar x reader #avatar 2 #avatar wotw #tsu'tey #fics

[xoxo-sarah]

Pretty In Pink

Part two to Brother's Best Friend. Read that first to better understand.

↝a/n: happy new year! This fic is slightly based on a suggestion by @canmargesimpson thank you, hon. I hope you enjoy. 🩶

↝pairing: Robin Buckleyx Harrington!reader

↝warning:not proofread, angst, commitment issues, Robin not knowing how to handle her feelings, jealousy, cursing, girly-girl reader(?), Harrington! Reader,

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Buckley, or any character from Stranger Things. I only own "y/n" and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

↝⎙ 1.1.24

Header credits go to @saradika 🩶

You were so gorgeous. So irritatingly gorgeous. Every color looked good on you. Every perfect hair style made Robin want to mess it up while kissing you so hard. Ever lipgloss shade was sure to be wore off by the time Robin got done with you. Was there anything that you didn't look good in?

Not that Robin was sure of. No, the only thing she was sure of was that pink was your color. You had many shirts and skirts in different shades of pink. Accessories ranging from hot pink or soft misty rose. If you were to ask Robin which was her favorite, she would, without a doubt, say the soft pink was your color. It complemented your skin, especially when you had been tanning out by the pool. Like now.

You wore said soft pink in the form of a bikini. It left little to Robin's imagination. Mentally, she was thanking you.

Your soft, tan skin was all that was in her mind. The water droplets that fell down your body when you moved in the pool was playing on loop in her head. She had never been so jealous of water before.

"I just don't know what to do." Steve kept yapping. Not that Robin was paying him any mind. Her eyes had been watching you under her sunglasses. You felt her eyes on you. Maybe that's why you were doing subtle things that would drive her crazy. Like push your arms together while leaning against the side of the pool, or push your soaking wet hair away from your face. You always wore that stupid smirk on your face. God, you were so pretty. "Robin, are you even listening?"

"Hm?" She hummed, unknowingly looking back at where he sat in the lawn chair beside her. The summer weather had Steve and you competing to get the better tan. Robin knew you won, no matter how much Steve would walk around outside without a shirt. It was starting to irritate Robin. "What?"

"I don't know why I'm even trying anymore. Nance was the one- ya know?" Oh, here we go. Robin rolled her eyes under her sunglasses. She adored him, she really did. But if she had to listen to Steve blabber about the one that got away one more time, she might just have to drown him in his own pool.

"Maybe it's time to move on." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Steve scoffed, "right, like you? How's Vickie?"

Your head shot over, your bikini top strap popping against your skin as you tried to fix it.

Since the night where you two had kissed, it was a mutual agreement that went unsaid. You two would kiss behind closed doors when given the chance, flirt with your eyes, call in the middle of the night occasionally when Steve was asleep. There weren't any labels ever mentioned. You two were just... In the moment. That said, Vickie became a sore subject after a while. Steve had found it weird that Robin suddenly stopped talking about the red-headed girl. However, he didn't let Robin lack of interest in her now mess up his agonizingly teasing.

"I wouldn't know, Steve."

"Right."

Not muttering another word, he laid back in the chair, closing his eyes.

The sound of water splashing had Robin's head turning back towards you, her body relaxing as she watched you get out of the pool. Your scowling expression didn't go good with the rest of you at the moment. As soon as you caught her eyes, you were quick to grab your towel and dart into the house, not caring about the water.

Robin was quick to go in after you, after she heard the first snore exit Steve's lips.

"Vickie, huh?"

Robin sighed, knowing where this was going. "Y/n-"

"I know what you're going to say- exactly the same as every other time." This time it was your turn to sigh. You genuinely sounded exhausted. "But I don't understand why you keep letting him tease you about her." You pouted. Your lips were so pink, so kissable..

Robin walked closer to where you stood against the counter, towel wrapped loosely around your frame. "It's the only thing he knows how to do."

Your pout deepened. "I'm serious. We can make him stop, you know. We could just tell him."

"No." She was quick to step back.

"why are you so scared to tell him? It's Steve."

Before Robin could reply, Steve slid the glass door open, looking for you two.

You all went your separate ways after that. Sure, you and Robin had had the same conversation plenty of times, but it felt different.

And it proved to be so.

Robin hadn't answered your calls, hadn't came over- making Steve meet up with her to hang out.

You were beginning to grow frustrated as it went on for weeks.

"David Bowie played a goblin king for crying out lou-" You weren't supposed to be home, atleast not this early. Steve's expression said the same when you walked in the front door. Robin, who he has been arguing with, went stiff from beside him. She looked so pretty in her Blue button up shirt that was tucked into lighter washed shorts. Blue was her color, navy or sky blue, didn't matter. What didn't sit right with you was the person sitting on the other side of her. Vickie smiled politely at you, waving. Steve cut your staring off, popping the tab off of his can drink in boredom, the smaller piece falling into the empty can, ringing through your empty head. "Thought you were out for the day?"

"Was. Got tired." You were blunt, going straight for your room after.

Before you closed your door you heard Steve try to lighten the mood from your sour attitude. "She's been in a funk lately, I don't know."

Robin watched you walk away. She couldn't help where her eyes traveled. you were wearing pink. It was slightly darker than your swimsuit, but looked just as good on you nonetheless. She was quick to excuse herself to the bathroom, making her way to your room.

She welcomed herself in your room after she got a hum in response to a quiet knock on your bedroom door. Her step into your room was quick, making sure Steve and Vickie were still content with the movie on the tv. She turned, watching you watch her. You were still looking at her, frustrated at her. She's seen you when you hated her. This was different. It almost hurt her that she hurt you.

You broke the silence, sitting on the side of your bed. A pile of laundry was sat beside you- the same pretty pale pink bikini was sat on top, making Robin's breath hitch. "I pour my heart out to you and you ignore me for weeks? You get with her."

No amount of practicing this conversation with "you" in her mirror had her ready for how your voice showed how betrayed you felt.

It wasn't fair, what Robin was doing. She knew that. It was all just so complicated. Steve was her best friend. She couldn't hurt him like that. It's all complicated.

"I know. I'm sorry." She moved to stand infront of you when you looked away.

"You brought her here." Your tears fell down your soft, pinkened cheeks.

"I know." She couldn't help her words repeating. She sunk down to her knees in front of your, taking your hand that tried to wipe your face."I'm sorry."

"Right. That's why you're in my house with her. Cause you're so sorry."

"That's not- she's not here with me. We ran into her and Steve invited her over for a movie. He's still on his kick, trying to embarrass me. You know how he is."

Robin's eyes begged you to believe her. What were you supposed to do when she looked up at you like that?

"Why have you been ignoring me?" What was she supposed to do when you looked down at her like that? She had to tell you what was eating her up, knowing you didn't understand why it was such a big deal to her.

"It's just all a lot." After she paused, you nodded. Moving over, you patted the bed for her to join you, giving her your full undivided attention. "Steve is my best friend. I don't want what we have to effect my friendship with him, you know? I don't want him to brought into our relationship when we have an argument or if we break up. I don't want you or him to be in an awkward situation at any time." A sigh fell from her lips as she looked at you, scared of how you'll react to her opening up.

"So, Steve's the problem?" You joked.

She put on a sad smile, "Pretty much."

"Robin," you hand found hers, your thumb rubbing over her skin in smoothing circles. "I like you- as I've showed in this bed. I'm willing to deal with Steve and all that if the time comes. I want you."

Her eyes had a sad twinkle in them. " I just need time."

-

Shortly after Robin came down from your room, Steve was leaving to take her and Vickie to their homes. The ride was quiet- well almost. Robin stared out of the window, Steve tried starting conversation, Vickie sat in the back, being the only one conversating with the driver. Robin didn't pay either of them any mind. Her mind was on you. How understanding you were.

It was after Steve dropped Vickie off that he started conversation with Robin, not getting silence for an answer. "Vickie, huh?"

"I'm over Vickie. Like really, really over her. Not that there's something wrong with her- there's just someone else. Or there was, I guess. I don't really know anymore."

" Wow." Steve sighed, tapping the steering wheel. "I'm surprised you didn't break and tell me about you and y/n. You surprise me more and more everyday."

Robin froze, too scared to do anything.

"You knew?" She wanted to yell. But her voice came out as a whisper. Steve just looked at her, shrugging his shoulders.

"Uh, yeah. You two aren't the best at keeping a secret. I felt like I was interrupting something every time you were in the room together."

Before Robin could stop herself, she was hitting his shoulders with all the frustration in her body. Punch after punch right to his right shoulder, same spot and everything. It was sure to be sore tomorrow.

-

Robin practically ran through the door, mindlessly making her way around the furniture.

Her eyes caught your pink nightgown, that she had made fun of you for- saying it was a granny thing to wear- as if she didn't find it adorable on you. You went further into the kitchen before she could fully make it into the kitchen. You back was turned to her, oblivious to her presence.

"I don't need time."

At lightning speed, you spun around, confused on why you heard anyone but Steve's voice in the house. You clutched at your chest for a split second before she had her lips on yours.

"Gross." Steve made his way to his room, a small smile making it's way onto his face when you couldn't see him anymore.

Pulling back, you didn't know what to say.

Robin didn't want you to say anything about what has happened, not in the minute or two, not the week she ignored you, nothing. She changed the subject, playing with your hair, looking into your eyes the same way she did when you first told her how you felt. "I really like this color on you."

"I know."

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]

#robin buckley #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley fluff #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley angst #robin buckley x fem!reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #robin buckley x harrington!reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x y/n #stranger things fluff #stranger things angst #📼 #xoxo-sarah 🩷

[herotome]

blink blonk

I drew more expressions today!

Here are the youngest members of the ragtag superhero gang from my upcoming superhero dating sim, Herotome.

(Actually one of them is the oldest member but shh 💋).

Base colors and shading by Remnantation. <3

❤️ Support me on Ko-Fi | Subscribe on Youtube for CG cutscenes | Follow Herotome on Itch for First Access to the Upcoming Demo!❤️

#amare game #interactive fiction #oelvn #visual novel #indie game #indie otome #otome game #english otome #otome #RO: mia #RO: dart #RO: griffin #herotome highlights

[luveline]

Eddie and Roan taking care of reader who just had their wisdom teeth removed maybe? Eddie having to explain why reader is super emotional and out of it, telling her to be super gentle and loving. Lots of fluff 🥹

I'm sorry this took me a whole month!! I hope you like it my love!! eddie and roan —dad!eddie takes care of step mom!you when you get your teeth pulled, 2k

"Be careful," Eddie murmurs, hands at your waist, leading you up the last step to the house with a little too much tenderness. 

You had your wisdom teeth out and he's acting like you had a near miss with death. You're clearly enjoying how soft he's being, leaning your weight on him for closeness' sake rather than a real need for his help. 

"Wayne?" Eddie calls. 

"We're in the kitchen!" 

The kitchen door is closed, but their voices rumble from within, muffled by wood and the sound of the sink running. Eddie nods, assured they got home in one piece, and kisses the side of your head. "You got it. Keep on walking, we'll get you on the couch." 

He hadn't expected the drugs to make you like this. Steve said that when his girlfriend had her wisdom teeth out, she was a mixture of giggly and tearful. One wrong word could set her off. "And whatever you do, man, don't yell. I'm trying to stop her from poking around in there and she's crying in my passenger seat 'cos she thinks I'm mad," Steve said. 

Eddie hasn't had to raise his voice; you seem completely uninterested in your mouth and all your gauze. You'd been giggly as promised when Eddie first came in to help you to the car, but strangely shy when he wrapped his arm around your waist. It's kinda nice —you've never been shy with Eddie, not so obviously. You made the first move, you asked him out, you planned the first date. He's lucky he managed to propose before you had something to say about it. 

"Here, sweetheart, sit down," he says, fluffing a pillow in your designated seat. You sit, and you look at him imploringly. "What?" 

"You'll sit with me?" 

Your gauze muffles your words. Eddie smiles at you adoringly. 

"I'm definitely going to sit with you, but I need to go wash my hands, because we need to take out your gauze, and you need an ice pack. You understand?" 

"You won't sit with me?" you ask, pouting gently. 

Eddie leans down to look you in the eye. He's never so aware as to how much he loves you as he is like this, hands on your forearms, thumbs rubbing sweet circles into your hot skin. "Sweetheart," he says, in the stickiest most loving tone he possesses, "I'm going to sit with you, but I have to take care of you first. And… if you're not upset, I can bring Roan in to see you." 

That's who you wanted to see most. The you without drugs knew Roan wasn't coming to pick you up, but the you that was full of them seemed very concerned. "Where's Ro?" you'd mumbled woozily. "My girl… I thought she was here." 

Eddie watches recognition spark in your eyes, then excitement. "Ro's here?" you ask now. 

"Yes! Of course she's here, this is her home. Are you happy enough for me to go and get her?" he asks. 

You nod hurriedly. Eddie doesn't feel bad for manipulating you. It's almost like guiding Roan into good decisions. 

"Okay." He kisses your hand. "Be good. No touching your mouth." 

"I'm always good," you say with a funny laugh, leaning back into the couch. 

Eddie gives your shoulder one last pet before standing up. He rubs his forehead as he leaves the living room, kicking his shoes off under the stairs and making his way to the kitchen door. He pushes it open cautiously in case someone is behind it, but Roan's on the counter with a dish rag in her hands and Wayne's putting plates away. 

"Hey, little miss," Eddie says, darting forward to give her a kiss. 

"Hello," she says, head dipping under his kiss.

"How's Y/N?" Wayne asks, closing the cabinet. 

"She's fine, she isn't half as woozy as they thought she'd be. And no pain yet. I gotta wash my hands to take her gauze out." Eddie turns on the faucet. Roan grabs the soap squeezee and squirts a big dollop of raspberry hand soap into his palm. "Thanks, babe." 

"Wayne," she says, holding up her arms.

Wayne grabs her and puts her down on the floor, but he says, "Wait, kid." 

"I want to see her," she whines. 

"Will you grab an ice pack from the fridge?" Eddie asks. 

He was asking Wayne, but Roan rushes to the freezer drawers and yanks them open. Eddie did his research thoroughly before your surgery, he knows exactly what you need to make everything as painless as possible. Ice packs, medicine, dry socket prevention. In an event of too much caution, he got six ice packs. That way, if they melt too much, he can swap it for a new one. Six whole times. 

Eddie isn't a worrier, but he worries about this. You hurting, and him not being able to do a thing about it. 

Wayne passes Roan a newer looking hand towel and she wraps it up. Before he can stop her, she's running off to the living room. Eddie's barely catching up when he hears you. 

"Roan!" you yell, the loudest you've been since you came out of the Dentist's office. "Where have you been?" You're ecstatic. "Quick, come here." 

"You sound funny," Roan says. 

She seems worried. Eddie turns the corner, finds her paused in front of your waiting arms. 

"I know," you say regretfully, "but Eddie says I can't take out the gauze and I'm trying to be good." You laugh. "I sound like I have a gumball in my mouth."

"A big gumball."

You drag Roan up onto your lap, pressing your face to the top of her head completely unawares of the future pain you're stoking. "I missed you. Why didn't you come and see me at the dentist?" you ask, whining. 

Roan looks at you with wide eyes. "What do you mean?" she demands. "Dad said I couldn't go, and you said I should listen to dad." 

"You shouldn't," you say, hugging her like a teddy rather than a real living child. 

Roan doesn't complain. "I know." 

Eddie does. "Yes, you should. You should absolutely listen to me, because I'm always right. Like, ninety percent of the time. And Wayne agrees. Right, Wayne?"

"I'm always right!" Wayne calls. "And your dad listens to me, so really, he is always right too." 

"That's not true," you sing under your breath, your nose rubbing against Roan's forehead. She giggles happily. 

"Roan, babe, give her a kiss and then sit down, okay? I need to help her feel better." 

Roan gives you a very soft kiss on the top of your cheek. You make a pleased huffing sound. "I love being your mom," you say. 

Roan's dazzled. With a big smile, she falls down into the cushions to your left. Eddie refrains from squeezing her knee now his hands are clean, gesturing for you to lift your chin. 

"Will it hurt?" you ask. 

"Not even a bit. Promise." 

He takes your gauze out without much fuss and strokes your cheek as a sticker for a job well done. It's a bloody mess and Roan makes a disgusted sound, rushing forward to offer you the ice pack. Eddie discards the mess, wipes your face clean with a cotton pad, and offers you a bottle of water. 

Half of it tips down your shirt. 

Wayne laughs in the doorway. "I can see you have things handled." 

Eddie gives him a hug, lavishing in the proud pat on his back, and Roan climbs on the back of the couch to get a kiss. Wayne gives your shoulder a fond squeeze while he's there. "Feel better, Y/N. I'll be back tomorrow for hotdogs." 

You cheer happily, "Yes, Mr. Munson! Please, I love them so much, I want the special mustard this time."

"You got it. Bye, kids." 

"Love you!" Eddie calls to Wayne's retreating back. 

"I love you Uncle Wayne!" Roan shouts louder. 

"Love you guys," Wayne says, closing the door behind him. 

"He could've stayed," you say. 

"He's late for pool," Eddie says. 

"We have a pool." 

"For eight ball pool, with his friends," Eddie says, laughing. 

You look at him for a long time. Eddie squints at you, until you announce, "I'm really tired." 

Eddie helps you upstairs to your room, to Roan's chagrin. He sets you up in bed with everything you might need, a blanket over your legs, the window open to share the breeze, painkillers in arm's reach. Things are quieter when you're settled, the first hint that you're in pain a strange motion you're making with your hand, fingers jutting on your chest toward your chin. 

Roan sits at your feet. "Is she hurting?" 

"A little bit," Eddie guesses. "How do you feel, sweetheart? Can I help you take some more painkillers?" 

You frown at him. "My mouth is hurting?" 

"You had your teeth pulled out." 

"She doesn't remember?" Roan asks. 

"The medicine the dentists gave her can make her forget things, but it won't last much longer," Eddie tells her. "We'll get our Y/N back in a couple of hours." 

"I'm right here," you say, eyes tearing up. "What are you talking about, Eddie?" 

"Dad!" 

"It's okay," Eddie says, shuffling closer to you to stroke your face. The ice pack has left your skin painfully cold, even in twenty minute bursts. "Sorry, sweetheart, I don't mean it as a bad thing, I'm sorry. Don't cry, okay?" He kisses your temple. 

You sniffle. 

"She's so sad," Roan says, walking on knees to your hip. 

"We need to be really nice," Eddie whispers, wincing at his misstep. "I need to be nicer." 

"You're nice all the time, dad." 

"Can you cheer her up for me?" he asks.

Roan saves it before his small mistake can butterfly into anything worse, stretching her arms across your stomach, looking at you with wide, loving eyes. "It's okay, mom." 

Your eyes mist up worse. You raise your hand to her cheek. Eddie can tell you're trying not to cry, but you breathe out and sob at the same time. "You're so pretty. I love you." 

"I love you too!" 

"I love you so much.” You turn to see Eddie, prompting another wave of tears. "What the fuck, you're really pretty." Eddie laughs as you slap a hand over your mouth. "Don't say that," you say into your hand.

"You're pretty too, in case you haven't noticed," Eddie says. 

"You make me feel really beautiful," you say agreeably. It's perturbing to have you say something nice while tears bump down your cheeks. Eddie wipes them away carefully. 

"You are really beautiful," he says. 

"Can you make me stop crying?" you ask. 

Eddie tamps down a laugh and rolls his shoulders. "Obviously I can. Close your eyes?" 

You close them. Eddie whispers something to Roan, and they, as gently as they're able to, press twin kisses to the corners of your eyes. 

Eddie pulls away. "That work?" 

Your lashes flutter, heavy with tears. "No. Do it again. Like, ten times I think." 

"You sure?" Eddie asks indulgently. 

"Yessss…" You deliberate. "I think you'll have to help me have some tramadol." 

"Tylenol, sweetheart." 

"Are you sure?" you ask. 

"Definitely. Tylenol will be enough, I promise." 

You sniff. "Okay." 

Eddie has a long couple of hours ahead of him.

#eddie and roan #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4

[0oxalieno0]

Drunken Nights (Hobie Brown x Reader)

Gender neutral reader

Word count: 2.1k

Sum: Hobie takes care of you after a long night out. Liquid courage reveals some hidden feelings. Reader has anxiety (Reader is a jumper (of conclusions :)) Fluff. Also, everyone is 18+ in this scenario. Some nakedness is involved but nothing crazy. Hobie is a big acts of service guy <3. Also, reader is a sweet, sweet summer child.

You were nervous, to say the least.

As you stood in line, waiting to get into the venue, you couldn’t help the racing thoughts that filled your head. Sure, you and Hobie had been seeing each other for a couple months now, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that your surprise appearance at his gig might be a bit too intimate for what was, initially, supposed to be a casual hook-up.

Coming out here, and seeing him perform in a crowd with his friends, felt like a step towards uncharted territory.

With a quick glance at your ID and a nod from the bouncer, you make a quick beeline to the bar. You order and chug your drink in quick succession, trying to calm your nerves and the spiral your mind seems determined to take you on. As you get started on your second drink, a pair of bright red Jordans comes into view.

“Sick shoes” you comment. Normally you would keep to yourself, but it seems your mouth and the double-shot vodka cran you just drank, have other plans.

“Thanks” the boy replies. Getting a better look at him he barely looks 18, and by the way his gaze darts around the room nervously, seems to feel just as out of place.

‘Welp’ you think while taking a sip ‘might as well keep the conversation goin’

“So, what are you here for? The booze? The people?”. Looking out into the hoard of heavily tattooed and pierced bodies and back to the boy in what seems to be… a school uniform? with red and black gloves?

“Though, I’m gonna take a wild guess and say that you’re not in it for the crowd”

The boy glances down at his outfit, then back up at you, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “Actually, I’m here to see the band playing tonight, but I got caught up with a ro-“ he startles as if saying something he shouldn’t have “I mean studying, that I forgot to change”

“Really?” You fix him with a surprised expression “Wouldn’t have taken you for the punk rock type, you a fan or something?”

The boy smiles to himself “Yeah, I guess you could say that”

“Well, the name’s Y/N” You hold out your hand to shake “and you? Fanboy”

“Miles,” he says sliding his hand into yours “Miles Morales”

**(the cutoff word is robbery) Also Miles is wearing black and red gloves cus he forgot to change out of his suit, oh miles, lol**

Just as you down your second drink and turn to the bartender to get a third for you and your new best friend, ear-splitting microphone feedback fills the room.

“Hello, hello, hello” the speaker on the mic calls out.

You’d recognize that voice anywhere. With your third drink in hand, you turn and look up to see Hobie Brown, looking unbelievably gorgeous under the bright spotlights. “The name’s ‘Obie, ‘Obie Brown and this is my crew” he waves a ringed finger at the musicians behind him “we call ourselves, Eradication!”

The crowd erupts into cheers and you swear you see a few girls swooning in Hobie’s direction. You take a deep swig from your glass, this, is going to be a looong night.

And with that, the band begins throwing themselves into the music. Everyone is amazing, especially the pink-haired drummer in the back, but nothing, or rather no one could compare to Hobie. Sure, he sounded amazing in the confines of your bedroom, but the stage was where he truly belonged. For the next few songs, you can barely take your eyes off him as he seems completely enraptured in a complicated guitar solo, sweat dripping off his forehead in a show of pure concentration. His piercings glint in the light as he head bangs and dances around, absolutely commanding the stage. He is, truly, mesmerizing to watch.

A nudge at your side breaks your rapt attention, and you turn to see Miles half-smirking at you.

“Someone’s got a little crush”

You scoff, trying to brush it off, but say nothing. He truly had no idea. God knows the alcohol has gotten you loose-lipped already and you don’t want to risk revealing more to Miles than he needs to know. Even with your silence, Miles seems to take this as a silent acknowledgment and chuckles at your blushing face, turning his attention back to the show.

By now the night is winding down and more often you notice the chemistry between Hobie and the drummer, as they jam out and steal winks and smiles at each other in-between songs.

Maybe it was a bad idea to come here. You take a look at your half-finished glass and begin throwing the rest of it back, because 1. Mama didn’t raise no quitters and 2. You weren’t about to let any of your 12$ investment go down the drain.

In the time it takes for you to finish and start paying off your tab at the counter, the band has already stopped playing.

“Thank you, thank you everyone. We hope you’ve enjoyed the show, Eradication out!” A final wave of cheers is heard from the audience, as the band jumps off the stage before they circle the band in a sort of meet-and-greet fashion.

Now! Now’s your chance to escape! Before you can even begin making your way towards the exit, a hand grabs your wrist and pulls you through the crowd.

“Hey, Hobie!” Miles greets “This is Y/N, they’re your biggest fan” he teases.

“Y/N?” a low voice questions.

You turn, maybe a bit too quickly, and stumble right into the arms of the person you were trying to escape. Maybe that third drink was a bit overkill. You steady, then look up to see Hobie’s lips curved up in a curious smile.

“Hey” you say shyly, your face heating up, but you’d sooner blame it on the alcohol than on the effect he has over you.

“Hey” he echos back. “I didn’t know you were coming, no calls or texts” he lifts his phone in mock hurt.

“I was trying to surprise you” you whisper, unable to meet his warm eyes.

“Well, you are without a doubt, the prettiest surprise I’ve ever received”.

And without breaking his gaze, he lifts your hand and places a soft kiss against your knuckles. Your heart stalls before remembering to beat. Hobart-fucking-Brown would surely be the death of you.

And with that, Hobie places a gentle hand around your waist and turns to introduce you to the rest of the team. There’s Fish on bass, Cedric on the keys, and finally the very talented Gwen on drums. Absolutely nothing can prepare you for the tight embrace Gwen wraps you in once the two of you are introduced.

“Oh my gosh, you’re the Y/N!!!” She squeals, giving you a wide smile and squeezing you even tighter than you ever thought possible.

“It is so good to finally meet you! Hobie talks about you all the time” she rambles “In fact, I just caught him grinning at his phone the other day, over a pic of the two of you. And sometimes I even catch him mumbling your name in his sleep after practice. It’s honestly too cute, he really is in-“

“Okayyy” Hobie interjects, cutting her off “that’s enough out of you Gwendy”

“Oops” Gwen snorts “sorry bout that, I can get a little carried away sometimes”

You turn to grin at Hobie, half-whispering “I like her honesty”. Hobie just shuts his eyes, shaking head in utter disbelief.

The rest of the night goes without a hitch. You all do a round of shots together (which might be a bad idea, but fuck it). You and Gwen bond over female rock bands and tease Miles over his obsession with action figures. And Hobie holds your hand the entire time, looking at you fondly as you become one of the crew.

As you stifle a yawn, Hobie begins to stand, picking you up along with him.

“I think that’s our cue” he says, holding out your jacket for you to shrug on “I’ve got to get this one home, you got a place to stay tonight Gwen?”

“Yea, I’m gonna crash at Mile’s tonight so you two go on ahead”

You think it’s odd of Hobie to ask where Gwen’s staying, but you’re honestly too bleary-eyed and buzzed to question it further.

“Bye everyone” you wave tiredly.

“Bye Y/N! Bye Hobie!” they echo back.

Then the two of you are out the door. At nearly 2am the streets of London are quiet and the two of you walk in comfortable silence, hand in hand. It isn’t till you hear water splashing and gulls overhead, that you realize you aren’t heading towards your apartment at all.

“Where are we?”

Hobie guides you carefully down a set of creaky wooden stairs, down to the docks, and finally stops at a giant canal boat.

“This” he gestures, waving an arm outward “is my home”

But Hobie never brings you back to his place. It’s always yours, that you end up spending the night at. As you look on at the ship in slight awe, Hobie wraps his hands around your waist, and lowers you down onto the deck, before jumping down next to you. As he leads you through the boat you realize it really is a full-on floating house. There’s a kitchen, some twin guest beds, a couch with a TV, and finally, you end up in the master suite, Hobie’s room.

It’s so him, from the guitars lined up against the wall, to a god save the Queen poster, and even a funny spider doodle on some of the walls, everywhere you look, there he is. As you marvel at the museum that is Hobie Brown’s room, he unzips your jacket and begins to make quick work on your button-up.

“What are you doing?”

He cocks an eyebrow your way but doesn’t show any signs of stopping as he reaches for the zipper at your waistband.

“Getting you, ready for bed” his eyes linger slightly as he helps you shed your clothes, but it isn’t the same one of hunger you usually find when you’re in this situation, instead it’s one of pure affection. After the two of you undress, he leads you to the bathroom.

“You have a shower on this damn thing?!”

He gives you an incredulous look “Do you think I’m some sort of heathen? Of course, there’s a bloody shower”

It’s a tight squeeze, but the two of you manage to fit comfortably pressed up against one another under the shower head. As the warm water heats you up from the cold London night, Hobie takes a bit of shampoo and begins rubbing it into your scalp, making funny shapes with your lathered up hair. Each of you take turns with the conditioner until finally you step back out into Hobie’s room, all toasty and clean.

As you detangle your hair with a hot pink hairbrush you can only assume is Gwen’s, Hobie shows up by your side freshly dressed, holding an oversized (or rather for him, appropriately sized) t-shirt and a pair of boxers.

“Arms up” he instructs.

Doing as you’re told, Hobie slides the Spider-Man t-shirt over your head. Then kneels down, to let you use his shoulder as a crutch while you step into the plaid boxers. He presses a kiss against your inner thigh, making your breath hitch, before rising back up and pulling you towards the bed.

Under the covers, in the darkness, there’s a moment of quiet before-

“Hobie?”

“Yea, love?”

The endearment makes your heart flutter.

“We’re dating, right? Like boyfriend, (preferred romantic title), level dating?”

Another beat of silence lapses, until Hobie abruptly turns the bedside lamp back on.

“Have you not known that we’ve been together for the past two weeks?” He looks at you in disbelief.

“Well, you always said you hated labels and we never really talked about” you wave your finger back and forth “this”

“Shit, that’s true" he admits sheepishly "but I’ve been calling and introducing you as ‘babe’ and 'darling' whenever we’re out”

You share a look, then laugh at the total lack of communication skills between the both of you. After sharing a quick kiss, Hobie reaches out to turn the lamp back off.

“Hobie?” You call out again.

“Yes, Y/N?”

“I love you”

This time there are no beats of silence or hesitation.

“I love you too”

——————————-

Time frame: Hobie + Reader have been seeing each other a little under 3 months and actually dating-dating for 2 weeks.

OMG my first fanfic!!! I hope y’all enjoy and please feel free to leave any comments <3

#across the spiderverse #hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie x you #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown fluff #hobie brown imagine #miles morales #gwen stacy #I'm a sucker for acts of service <3 TT

[kiwiana-writes]

WARM LIKE THE GLOW THAT YOU FEEL HEAD TO TOE

by @kiwiana-writes

[rated E; 5,131 words]

Alex swallows audibly, eyes darting all over Henry’s face. “Your Ro— Henry.” And oh, that’s the timbre with which Henry wants to hear his name come out of Alex’s mouth; it’s low and a little frantic, and it tugs at something in Henry’s navel. “I’m twice your age.”  “Do you think I’m twenty?” “Jesus Christ, I rounded for dramatic effect.” Alex fixes him with a look that’s half frustration, half something Alex is trying very hard not to let show. The thing is, though, that Henry became an expert at covert glances and hidden signals during his time at Oxford, and he’d bet his entire ridiculous Crown allowance that Alex wants him as badly as he wants Alex.

Or, Alex is a senator; Henry is a prince who knows exactly what he wants.

Read it now on AO3!

#kiwiana-writes #fic: warm like the glow that you feel head to toe #wip: older alex #rwrb fic #rwrb fanfic #rwrb fanfiction #firstprince

[marzipanandminutiae]

Hey can I get your "history worker slash person who sews "insight on the words seamstress and tailor? Which ones do you use in a modern context? I just despise the contemporary word "sewist" but like. How do you best describe what you do (as a hobby, not professionally)? The gender implications are weird too..

Oh man. You have to realize that I LOVE feminized terms for myself. Adore them. If there were a word for a lady museum professional, I would use it all the time. I am Extremely Woman and I love shoving it in everyone else's face as much as possible. So I do really like "seamstress."

...but I've recently come to the realization that, in my period of greatest interest "seamstress" often just meant "woman who does basic sewing, not cutting and fitting and designing feminine garments." That was a dressmaker. So I use "hobbyist seamstress" and "hobbyist dressmaker" interchangeably. (There is no gendered term for dressmaker because it was often Assumed FemaleTM in the past. To the point where male dressmakers were sometimes called "man-dressmakers" and their hatmaking counterparts, "man-milliners." This sometimes carried connotations of homosexuality- though I've also seen an apparently hetero man, who owned a dressmaking business that his wife ran, called a "ladies' tailor." History is fascinating.)

Sewist is fine with me- I've also heard tailor used as a more masculine term, though some would argue that that has a distinct and specific meaning in the sewing world.

It's kind of a lacuna in sewing lingo, I agree! There really aren't many non-gendered terms for One Who Sews, or at least ones that aren't arguably for specific functions within the craft.

Of course you could always make like Amanda McKittrick Ros, wide-hailed Worst Writer of the 19th Century, and say that you engage in

"...the use of the finest production of steel, whose blunt edge eyed the reely covering with marked greed, and offered its sharp dart to faultless fabrics of flaxen fineness." (Delina Delaney, 1898)

#ask #sewing #hobbies #needlecraft #boggbitch

[bubblebaththoughts]

Female Submission

Ronal x Fem!Na’vi!Reader

kinkmas masterlist

warnings: 18+ MDNI, switch!ronal, switch!reader, cunnilingus

“I’m not asking you, I’m telling you.” You cross your arms, in front of Ronal as the words slip from her mouth

“Not happening.” You sass

You feel the anticipation in the air, your heart pounding in anticipation. Ronal stands across the pod, her gaze locked onto yours. You can feel the challenge in her eyes, the unspoken promise of a battle.

You smirk, slowly sauntering towards her. With a single movement, you reach out and grab her hand, tugging her towards the bed. She resists, but you're not to be deterred — you have a mission.

The two of you wrestle, your hands entwined as you fight for supremacy. You can feel her strength, her determination, and you know you must be the one to win. You wrench her arm back, pressing her down onto the mat.

Her eyes are wide with surprise, her body tense beneath yours. You can feel her struggle, her will to fight, but you refuse to relent. You position yourself above her, your lips just inches apart.

Your grip on her loosened as you leaned down to kiss her and she took the opportunity to flip the two of you over, not even breaking this kiss, taking you completely by surprise.

She ventured down, holding your body down by your hips, and leaving small kisses down your body a she went.

You feel her soft lips on your inner thigh, and your breath hitches in anticipation. She looks up, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she moves her way closer to your center. Her fingers softly stroke your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

Her lips meet your clit and you gasp out loud, feeling as if you're on the edge of the world. Her tongue darts out, flicking and teasing your most sensitive areas. You moan as the sensations wash over you, and her hands slide up to cup your hips once again, pulling you closer to her as she continues to pleasure you.

You can feel her breath on your skin, and the heat of her body radiates against yours. She pauses for a moment, and you can feel her smirk against your skin as she looks up at you. She licks her lips, and you can't help but blush as you realize how turned on you are.

Her mouth resumes its exploration of your body, and you feel yourself melting into the sheets. Her fingers grasp your hips, pulling you closer and closer to her face as her tongue works its magic. You start to rock your hips against her, seeking out the pleasure she's giving you.

The sensations overwhelm you, and you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. You can feel her smile against your skin as she senses your pleasure, and she continues to lavish your body with her mouth.

You can't take it any longer and you let out a loud moan as you come undone in her arms. Your body shakes with pleasure, and you can feel her smile against your skin as she holds you close.

Finally, you drift back to reality, and you can feel her lips press against your skin as she kisses you tenderly. You can't help but smile as you realize the pleasure she has just given you.

"I'm not done with you yet, Ro." you whisper, your voice barely a whisper. You press your lips against hers, your passion and desire overwhelming her. She moans in pleasure and you can feel her body relax beneath you.

You press your body against hers, your hands roaming her curves. Her breathing is heavy and her heart is racing. You can see the desire in her eyes, the need for more.

The two of you move together, your hand slipped down to her pussy, and you started to gently caress her until she began rutting into your hand for more friction. You move faster, her moans growing louder. You can feel her body trembling beneath you, her breath coming in short gasps. You can feel her slowly surrendering to you, and you revel in the power.

Eventually, you feel her body go limp beneath you. She looks up at you, her eyes filled with awe and admiration. You smirk, knowing you've proven your dominance.

The two of you collapse in a satisfied heap, your bodies spent from the battle. You can feel her heart pounding against yours, her breath warm against your skin. You smile, content with the knowledge that you have conquered her.

“I win.” Ronal declared

You look up instantly, almost offended by her words “How so?”

“I made you cum first.” She breathlessly sighed “No argument.”

#bubbleskinkmas2023🫧 #avatar #avatar the way of water #ronal x reader #ronal avatar #ronal atwow #ronal smut #jake sully #jake sully smut #jake sully x reader #jake x neytiri #loak sully #loak x reader #neteyam #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #avatar loak #maryahsbubblebaththots #loak smut #neteyam smut #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #avatar smut #avatar jake sully #avatar ronal #avatar twow

[hunnidmilly]

porn w/ no plot. tehehe.

“Roman! Ah! Ah! A-Fuck me!” You scream after each pound he makes to your cunt

“You’re gonna take it. Fucking hell, this pussy is so good. Whose pussy is this? Tell daddy it's his pussy! It’s my fucking cunt! Say it, I want to hear you say it!” His voice echoes off the walls

“It’s your pussy daddy! It’s your cunt!” You cry out gripping the ties on your wrist

Roman adored it when you submitted to his request in the bedroom. Giving up your complete control, allowing him to do what he wanted to your body. Call him a hedonist, but it gave him complete pleasure to see you fucked out, doing and saying whatever he pleased.

Roman reached forward—leaning over your back—and tangled a hand into your curly and sweaty hair, lifting your head from the pillow and slowing his thrust, “I can feel you dripping all over my cock.”

His voice filled with need whispering in your ear, “You like when fuck this pussy? Make you cum? Tell me what you like, baby.”

He takes his hand from your hair to reach around your body to your neck; choking you, and bringing your head up.

“I like when you fuck my pussy.” You answer with a whine and tear stained face, “Ro please. . .” you weap off feeling the affects of your screaming in your tonsils

Roman let’s go of your throat, leaning back up. With a harsh breath he pulls out slowly. Taking a moment to watch you wetness, and essence seap out your cunt down your thighs. He grabs your waist to flip you over onto your back.

You pant harshly to regain some of your energy, just as your eyes start to close. The Tribal Chief leans down to mimic his earlier actions, by lapping at your now swollen clit.

You open your mouth on a silent gasp that never released from your throat. Your chest moved up and down, trying so desperately to regain the air that your lungs lost.

You once again pull on the ties making the bed frame clash against the beige painted wall. Romans tongue darts in and out of you so quick, you couldn’t even tell if you were still conscious or not.

You take your hips to get more of his mouth, and he moves his large tattooed arm over you, pushing you back into the mattress.

“Roman! I—“

Your voice was cut off, by Roman taking his tongue and licking a long stripe up your cunt, making eye contact with you. You let out a squeal as his tongue connected with your small bundle of nerves.

You could feel yourself fading in and out of consciousness, with Romans skilled mouth working you closer and closer to your orgasm.

“Look at me.” Roman urges removing his mouth, and replacing it with his long index finger, “I said look at me.” he forcefully reiterates

You bring yourself back down to earth, to face Romans clouded eyes.

This is who he is. You love him like this.

“Tell daddy what you want.” He questions closely observing your body

“I—“ you begin to stammer as he adds another finger, abusing your g-spot

“Cmon baby, talk to daddy. Tell daddy, what makes his baby girl, go wild. You want my tongue on that juicy clit? You want my fingers? How about my dick pounding this tight cunt till you remember your name?”

Yes. All 3 at the same damn time.

“Roman, just fuck me please!” You screeched to the top of your lungs

Roman lets out an evil chuckle, moving his hands behind your knees and pushing them back to your ears, and slamming right back into you.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, as his hips snapped again. Not long after, you could feel your stomach tightening with that delicious burn. You felt Roman, swell inside you letting you know he was near as well.

“Ah fuck, y/n. Cum on my cock, baby girl. Give daddy what he wants. Give it to me!” he moans leaning down to your face, taking your bottom lip into his mouth

Your legs now trembling on his shoulders, as you both panted heavily in each other’s mouth. The both of you simultaneously let out a loud moan, as his warm thick spurts short deep into your cunt.

Your toes curl and pop, as that feeling in your stomach explodes, making you clench around his cock, coating it; mixing your juices together. You can feel, Roman shiver from the feeling of your pussy hanging on like a death grip— milking him for every single drop.

Every. Single. Drop.

#roman reigns x reader #roman reigns #roman reigns smut #roman empire #roman reigns one shot #roman reigns head cannon #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns headcanon #roman reigns headcanons #wwe smut #wwe x reader #wwe smackdown #wwe imagine #wwe one shot #jey uso smut #jeysami #jey uso imagines