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dollfacefantasy · 1 month

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Kiss It Better

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!bunny-hybrid!reader

summary: on a day planned to be just for just you and leon, he gets called into work. it dredges up some old memories, and upon returning home, he wants to make it better by taking extra care of his baby bunny.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, cockwarming, daddy kink, size kink, breeding kink, hurt/comfort, reader copes with her past at the shelter

word count: 6.1k

a/n: yay leon and his baby bunny finally return. i hope this lives up to the first part lol which can be found here. i have another part planned as well if people are interested. as always reblogs and comments mean the world <3

“I could never say no to my sweet baby bunny.”

A statement Leon had said off-hand in the heat of the moment. Something he’d told you as a comfort, a way of warming you up for your first intimate moments together. He hadn’t put much thought into it before it rolled out of his mouth.

But damn, if only he’d known how true it would prove to be.

The words were ringing through his head right now as you dragged him through the mall on another Saturday he dedicated entirely to spending time with you. He’d already bought you a fair amount of stuff from cute frilly socks to pretty pink panties to some tiny t-shirts he knew he’d regret as soon as you used one to get your way. And now you were heading towards a shop tucked away in the farthest corner of the shopping center. His only hope was that the location meant it was the end of the line, the last stop on your trip.

From what he could see, it sold stuffed animals amongst other items that could clutter up his house. Luckily, the small plush toys seemed to be the only things drawing your attention. Your eyes scanned the rows before fixating on a specific one that sat on the bottom shelf. You crouched down to get and pulled it to your chest, standing up again so Leon could see your selection. His eyes soften as he notices your little cottontail twitching with excitement.

He can’t help the smile that spreads on his face at the sight. His sweet girl standing there with a small plush cow in her arms. The tufts of black and white fur jutted out the top of its head near a set of foamy horns. You looked up at him with puppy eyes, which he’d come to view as unfair since he’d chosen a bunny for a reason. But they worked on him all the same.

“Baby-” he starts, but you interject, predicting his argument.

“I don’t have a cow yet,” you plead, “It’s just one more.”

“Yeah, this one is just one more. And so is the next one, and the one after that, and the one after fifty more of these things,” he teases.

“C’mon, please,” you beg, stepping close to him to lean against his chest.

“Is this your way of telling me you want your own bed again? You’re just gonna fill the one we share with more and more of these until there’s no room and I’m pushed to the floor,” he jokes.

“No,” you deny, “Plus I put them away at night anyways.”

“Most of them,” he corrects.

“Cause I need my bear to sleep,” you say with a little pout.

He swears he almost swoons. You’re too fucking cute. He knows he’s spoiled you rotten. You’re treated better than the average hybrid to put it lightly, but he was past the point of paying that any mind. That shelter he’d picked you up from never let you have stuff like this. In his mind, he was righting their wrongs, burying those sad memories with as much cute shit as he could afford. And if other people didn’t approve, if they thought he should keep you silent and on a leash, he couldn’t care less.

Looking down at you now, playfully pleading with him for that stuffed animal, he knew he could never treat you like that. He rolls his eyes and messes with your hair, gently scratching the base of your floppy ears.

“Fine,” he says, “One more.”

You all but cheer with your excitement, bouncing up to give him a fat kiss on the cheek. He takes the stuffie from you and walks to the register to pay for it. You walk, lacing your hand with his and swinging your arms back and forth.

He looks over at you and instantly remembers why he always ends up giving in. Why he can never say no. Now that you had opened up, he couldn’t get enough of you. He’d loved you before that day a few months ago, the day when he’d caught you during your attempt at self-soothing with his pillow between your legs. But since that day, a whole new layer of you had been revealed to him. The sweet and shy bunny he’d met at the shelter touched his heart first, but the affectionate and needy girl you’d allowed him to see owned it now.

He pays for your little cow, adding another bag to the collection hanging from his arm, and leads you out of the store. You tuck yourself under his arm, clinging to his abdomen.

“Thank you, daddy,” you say quietly and press a kiss to his chest.

His heart throbs at the sound of the sweet name you’d attributed to him months ago. He has to remind himself that you’re in public before any other part of his body reacts.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he says and strokes one of your ears with his free hand.

Once the pair of you reach his car, he loads your stuff in before giving you a pat on the ass as you climb in the front seat. You’re all smiles, and he couldn’t feel better. He gets in the driver’s seat and switches the car on. Your hand goes for the controls to the music right away. He always let you pick when you were with him. Each song acted as a little glimpse into you and what you liked.

As you’re selecting one you like, he feels a buzz in his pocket. He fishes his phone out as you share some of the stuff you like about the song you put on. You then start asking him where you’re going next, but the plans slowly begin to unravel as he reads the message displayed over the picture of you he had as his screensaver.

“Shit…” he mutters to himself before looking back up at you. Your ears droop in tandem with his face dropping. “Baby, I gotta drop you back at the house. I gotta take care of some stuff at work for a bit.”

He sees the disappointment in your eyes, and it kills him.

“But… I thought you took the day off,” you say. Your mood rapidly depletes. It wasn’t his fault, but it wasn’t fair. This was supposed to be a day where he was all yours. Twenty four hours where the D.S.O. laid no claim on him.

“I did, but I’ve told you how it is sometimes. I can’t get out of it some days,” he says.

“But you already stayed late all week. What else do they even need you for?” you ask. It may be irrational, but you can’t help how your mind floods with a sense of abandonment in the moment. You knew Leon would never do that, but the years you spent in that shelter had done a good job of convincing you otherwise.

“Just some formality stuff. I’ll be as quick as I can. You know I wouldn’t choose working over being with you,” he says.

Now he’s the one pleading. Your ears are flat on your head, and your eyes are fixed on your seat below you. He knows you feel wounded now even though you’re holding it in.

“If you’re mad it’s ok,” he whispers and reaches out to stroke your jawline, “You can be upset, honey. I won’t get mad at you. I know you were excited about today.”

As much as you had opened up, he could tell you still shied away from showing too much negative emotion. He knew you’d gone through some punishments at the shelter you were still too scared to talk about.

“It’s not your fault,” you say and shrug, dejection all over your features.

He sighs and starts the car, pulling out of the parking space, and heading towards the house. “I know it’s not, but you can still let out some frustration. I wouldn't think you’re ungrateful if that’s what you’re worried about. You wouldn’t get in trouble,” he says, keeping his tone gentle.

You bring your feet up onto the seat and retreat into yourself a bit. With a simple shake of your head, he knows the topic has closed.

He lets out a quiet sigh as he drives down the road. It drips with the frustration that he’s letting you down. He can’t reach inside your head and pull out the negative effects of the shelter. He can’t tell the D.S.O. to fuck off and let him spend as many hours as he wants with his precious girl. All he can do is pull into the driveway and watch you get out of the car, your posture slightly slumped with the encroaching feelings of loneliness. You pull your shopping bags from the car. At least you give him a little parting kiss so he doesn’t feel completely emaciated.

He watches your sad trudge into the house before taking the car back out of the driveway and down the same road in the opposite direction.

Inside the house, the silence dominates you. You pad down the hallway to the bedroom that had once belonged solely to Leon. Dropping the bags of clothes near the door, you then hop on the bed and toss your new little cow up near your other pillows. Your eyes linger on the ceiling. You’d become familiar with the insignificant bumps and ridges above that provided a distraction on sleepless nights. Nights where you just needed to tune everything out and count them to avoid being haunted by the past.

Before Leon had taken you in, you always imagined you’d enjoy the quiet of a real home. The shelter always echoed with loud cries of sorrow, screams of anger, and whimpers of hopelessness. You’d lie on the thin mattress tucked in the corner of your area and try to dream of the days your bed would be lush with pillows and blankets, decorated how you liked and surrounded by the peace of you and whoever had chosen to love you.

And now those days have come. They’re real. You didn’t have to deal with the constant atmosphere of despair or the looming threat of punishment for acting like a human being. So why was it so easy for you to tumble into sadness like this? Why did the quiet no longer mean sanctuary but rather the absence of the person you loved most in this world? You could never work it out. It was too hard. Any time you tried you ended up spiraling into even more self loathing. Because there’s nothing to be sad about anymore. There’s no reason to feel like this. That stuff shouldn’t bother you; it’s nothing more than a collection of ugly memories at this point. Why couldn’t you be grateful for the life Leon had given you? The man gave you just about anything under the sun you could want, so why did one minor inconvenience have to throw you off this badly?

The bags by the door didn’t make you smile anymore. They only brought guilt. You didn’t deserve them. All the gifts and love he lavished upon you would never make you into what you were supposed to be.

Your thoughts consume you for longer than you notice. The sky darkens outside, tinting the room with a violet haze. You lie on the bed under your self-made cloud of gloom for hours, not noticing how much time has passed until you hear the garage door closing and footsteps getting closer. You glance at the bedroom door as it opens silently.

Of course, it’s Leon. His eyes fill with concern at the sight of you. He’d seen you down before but never so deflated. His face now resembles how he looked when he caught you humping his pillow all those months ago, but it’s also distinctly different. He still has curiosity in his gaze, not able to pin down what exactly is the reason for the present circumstances. Though the reaction this time is more worried than surprised. Your present state doesn’t shock him; instead he feels a protective instinct flare within him.

He approaches the bed and sits next to your limp form. His palm rubs up and down your arm slowly. “Hey baby,” he says softly, “You doing ok?”

You look up at him and nod. Sitting up, you scoot to him and align your side with his. Your legs extend out in the opposite direction of him as your head rests on the curve of his shoulder. “I just missed you,” you say softly, your arms encircling the circumference of his bicep.

He presses a kiss to the crown of your head and starts rubbing your back. “You do anything fun while I was gone?” he asks.

“Nothing special,” you respond, “Think shopping made me sleepy.”

You speak with a soft tone of voice, attempting to further the idea that this was merely a bout of tiredness. His eyebrows rise with suspicion. As cute as you look with your cheek squished against his shoulder, he pulls your body around and seats you on his lap. His fingers sweep down your jaw and guide you to look up at him.

“You sure you’re just tired? Nothing else? We weren’t out for that long. I just wanna make sure you’re alright,” he says, trying to show you with how he speaks that it’s not an accusation.

But you remain firm in your convictions and nod. “Mhm, I’m already feeling better. I just needed a little rest,” you assure him and tuck your face against his neck.

It’s not a lie. You were feeling better now that he had returned, each passing moment had little improvement for your mood. But he knew something still wasn’t right. He strokes down the silky expanse of your ears while his other hand massages the base of your tail.

“Well, I missed you too, y’know? Couldn’t stop thinking about my sweet baby bunny the whole time I was at work,” he says.

You were already melting against his chest from the physical contact, but now a smile graces your features. “Really?” you ask, looking up at him again.

“Really,” he confirms, “I felt pretty bad leaving you all alone when it was supposed to be our day.”

“Oh, you don’t have to fe-” you start before he interrupts.

“No, I told you the day was gonna be for us. So how about this?” he asks, rubbing his thumb back and forth over your chin, “How about instead we make it a night for us? I’ll give you a nice bath, put you in some of the new stuff I got you.”

He kisses your head again, then your temple, then your cheek.

“Maybe daddy’ll even give you a special treat before you fall asleep,” he murmurs before kissing your lips.

Taking in a deep breath, you nod. You’re helpless when he treats you like this, disagreeing doesn’t even seem like an option.

“Will you get in the bath with me though?” you ask.

He grins and rises off the bed with you in his arms. “Of course. Anything for my baby bunny.”

The two of you head to the attached bathroom. He sits you on the counter while drawing the bath. Steam drifts up into the hair from the hot water pooling in the tub. He lights some candles, dims the lights, and lets you pick out the scent of bubbles you want.

You sit on the laminate countertop, lazily swinging your dangling legs as you watch him. He checks the temperature of the water multiple times and stares at the clear liquid coming from the bottle of bubble bath. Once that’s taken care of, it’s your turn. He slips your shirt over your head and your bottoms down your legs like you’re the most delicate thing on the face of the earth. Kisses land on your jaw as he pulls your panties off too and drops them in the hamper with the other articles of clothing. So meticulous about everything, at least when it came to you.

He scoops you up again and brings you to the bath, setting you down in the water before twisting the faucet off and discarding his own clothing. Then he climbs in behind you, slotting his body between yours and the cool marble.

“C’mere, baby. Nice and close to daddy,” he murmurs as he pulls you onto his thighs.

You sink into his chest. The feeling of his skin against yours is almost enough to make it all better, enough to make you forget about earlier. You nuzzle into his muscular front, making him smile. He strokes your face and takes care to avoid getting your ears wet.

Both baths and showers used to make you anxious, and he knew that. One of the details you had shared with him about your life at the shelter was having to share the space with all the other hybrids, including the bathrooms. You’d told him how much you hated it, and he could only imagine. He tried extra hard now to make both as comfortable for you as possible, pampering you like an absolute princess.

Thinking about all this, him going above and beyond for you like he always did, makes you turn more into his body. Your arms loop around him, and you place your head beside his, obscuring your downtrodden expression from his vision. Your chin rests on his shoulder as he returns the embrace and holds you closer.

“My perfect girl,” he whispers.

The words are complimentary, but right now, the second in particular stings like a blade. You nestle your face against the warmth of his throat and tighten your limbs around him, trying to drown out the bad swirling inside of you with the feeling of his flesh on yours.

He knows you’re still acting a little unusual. Maybe your heat was right around the corner and it had you feeling extra needy. Maybe you were just still a bit sad about missing out on a day with him. He wasn’t totally sure, but he just wanted to make it better. And the way you were starting to press against him, breasts flush against his chest and the warmth of your thighs pressing against either side of him had his cock starting to stiffen up.

“Sweet thing… you wanna feel a little closer, hm?” he murmurs, fingertips rubbing tiny circles into the small of your back.

You weakly nod.

“Is this close enough? Or should daddy get even closer? I think being inside would feel even better,” he whispers.

You nod again, this time with more motivation. “Please daddy,” you mumble.

“Of course. All you had to do was ask,” he says. He lazily strokes himself a few times beneath the water, getting himself a little harder before he lifts you slightly and slides in.

A soft moan drifts out of you as he lowers you again. You put your head back down on him and sit with the comfort of being full.

“There’s my baby bunny,” he coos in a low voice.

He also takes in the feeling of your tight walls sucking him in. The feeling of your warm, wet embrace wrapped around him.

The two of you sit quietly for a while more, the bathroom silent except for the occasional trickle of water when one of you shifts. Flickering lights from the candles paint the walls in dim orange as the scent of the bubble bath takes over the air completely.

But to Leon’s dismay, your mood doesn’t seem to be brightening up. You don’t start squirming with the need to ride him like you normally would. You don’t get extra sappy with him and start going for more kisses or longing looks.

He reaches for the wash cloth resting on the brim of the tub and soaks it in the water. He squirts some soap onto it and gently rubs it up and down your back. He can feel your muscles losing some of their tension, but you’re still withdrawn. He continues tenderly cleaning you off while you sit with him inside you.

After a few moments more, not knowing becomes unbearable. “Honey, what’s wrong?” he asks softly.

“Nothing, I’m-”

“You’re not just sleepy,” he interjects. His voice is still loving despite the confrontational manner of the conversation.

He gently guides you away from his body so you’re kneeling straight up in the bath. His eyes scan you over, trying to make this easier by figuring out what it is, but he can’t. He brings the wash cloth up to your chest and starts brushing it against your chest, between your breasts, and down your belly.

“I know something’s wrong, and I know you’re scared of talking about things like this. But I would honestly prefer you telling me what it is, even if it comes out harsh, to sitting here and trying to figure out what’s bothering you,” he says as he rubs your skin with the soft cloth.

“I don’t know,” you say timidly.

“I’m only asking because I care. I can’t help you if I don’t know what the problem is. Seeing you hurting hurts me too, baby,” he responds.

“I’m not lying. I don’t know,” you say again, some defensiveness seeping into your words, “I don’t know why I feel bad. I don’t know how to tell you what’s wrong. I just- I felt sad earlier, and I know I shouldn’t feel sad which makes me more sad.”

He sees the panic rising in your eyes and hears your words becoming more rushed. In an effort to keep the situation controlled, he pulls you back to his chest, hushing your worries by engulfing you with his arms. You reciprocate the motion, eager to retreat from your emotions. He takes a pause to grapple with what you had just said.

“What do you mean you shouldn’t feel sad?” he asks.

“Because… because there’s no reason to be sad,” you answer.

“If you’re sad, then there’s a reason to be sad,” he says and looks down at you with growing concern.

You shake your head. “No, there isn’t,” you whimper. You start to feel tears collecting in your eyes while your throat feels like it’s constricting. “You make everything so perfect for me, and I can’t do the same for you.”

He’s beyond confused at this point. He feels a couple tears fall against his neck, and all he can do is hold you tighter.

“Woah, woah, baby, c’mon,” he says, trying to prevent more tears, “What are you talking about? Perfect? I don’t expect you to be perfect.”

“Yeah, exactly because you are perfect. You never push me. You never ask for too much. You never do anything bad, and I still get like this,” you cry.

“... Is that a bad thing?” he asks, still lost.

“No, but I just wanna be perfect for you too. You work so hard all the time at your job, and then you come home and you have to deal with me,” you weep and cling onto him more, “I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that,” he says in a hushed voice, “You’re exactly what I want. I couldn’t ask for anything more than you.”

“Yes, you could. You deserve someone who can give you what you give. You deserve someone who’s not fucked up by stupid stuff from the past,” you cry, “I’ll never be a perfect pet, and I don’t wanna disappoint you.”

His chest aches and tightens up when he hears that. He starts to pull out, figuring this wasn’t the time to be balls deep inside you, but you stay locked around him so he stays put.

“Sweetheart, you’re not… I don’t see you as…” he starts, being careful with his words.

You continue your quiet crying against him.

“You’re more than a pet to me,” he decides, soft but firm, “You don’t disappoint me ever. You can’t disappoint me because I don’t have expectations of what you should be. You’re not some dumb animal that I want to mold into a fantasy. I know you were treated like that before, but that’s not what you are to me. You’re my baby bunny. My little love.”

More tears spill out onto him. The bathwater ripples with the shaking of your body.

“You’re not fucked up,” he whispers, “That stuff you went through at the shelter, that’s a big deal. I don’t expect you to just be able to move on from that like it’s normal. You need some extra care, and I’ve known that since the first day you came home with me. It’s not a bad thing. It’s something I love about you. I’m not dealing with you when we do things like this. You’re not a burden to me.”

“Promise?” is all you can choke out right now.

“I promise, baby. Cross my heart and hope to die,” he murmurs and kisses your temple. He sighs and squeezes his arms around you before saying a little more amidst the quiet of the bathroom. “I’m not gonna pretend I know exactly how you feel. But I know how it is to get shoved into a life you didn’t ask for. To get expectations put on you that you can never meet. I don’t want you to feel like that with me. I love you, and I’m gonna love you whether you’re a perfect ‘pet’ or not. That’s not what’s important to me.”

You know he’s being genuine. You hold yourself closer and press a few faint kisses to his throat. “I’m sorry,” you cry.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he whispers, “Just try and calm down for me, sweet girl. Take some deep breaths.”

You do as he says and work towards settling down. Your breathing slows, and the tears slowly stop. He grabs another washcloth and wets it. He guides your head up and gives you a small kiss before dabbing at your cheeks and cleaning your face of any remaining sadness. Your eyes flutter shut and relax under the loving care of his movements. He tends to your hair next, caring for it how you need.

Once your bath is done, he pulls out of you. You give him a little pout, bringing a smirk to his face.

“Patience, little one,” he teases before standing up with you in his arms.

He taps the stopper with his foot, draining the bathtub as he steps out. He sets you down so he can wrap a towel around his waist and then bundles you up in a big fluffy one. He dries you off and brings you in front of the mirror. He applies some product to your ears, something he’d gotten to keep them from drying out. You can’t help the smile on your face as his fingers gently rub down your long, fluffy ears. You can feel his love through his motions. He follows it with your hair routine, going through each step with precision and making sure to do it just how you like.

Before he takes you to the bedroom, his arms curl around your waist and he slots his head next to yours, gazing into your eyes through the reflective glass of the mirror.

“My baby bunny,” is all he says before pulling you out to the bed and laying you down on it.

He gets some of your lotion, a scent he’d become so familiar with. He rubs it all up and down your legs, taking time to lightly massage as he works. His hands glide all over your body, over your hips, up your sides, across your chest, and down your arms to your hands. Every inch of you was going to feel soft as silk if he could help it. The soft sighs of pleasure that come from you are enough to keep him thoroughly invested in the process.

When he’s finished, he plants a kiss on your lips and gets up. He heads to the door where you had dropped the shopping bags from earlier. He’s rifling through them, pulling out some new items you could wear to bed. He fishes out a cute t-shirt and some smooth panties when he hears your voice call to him.

“Wait, daddy?” you say.

“Yeah, baby?” he responds immediately, looking over his shoulder at you.

“Come back,” you request.

He looks at you curiously but stands up and walks back to the edge of the bed where you were sitting. Looking down at you lovingly, he holds your jaw and squeezes your cheeks. “What is it?”

“I don’t wanna get dressed yet… Maybe I could still have my treat… if you want to,” you initiate timidly while grabbing the hem of his towel.

He smiles and breathes out a laugh. “Yeah? You’re feeling better and need daddy again?” he asks teasingly, letting you tug the towel loose. It crumples to the floor behind his legs and unveils his cock to you.

“Always need my daddy,” you say, looking up at him.

“Don’t I know it,” he teases.

He pushes you back on the bed and crawls on top of you. Leaning down, he kisses and nips at your neck. His hands squeeze your hips. You nuzzle the side of his head affectionately. Out of the corner of your eye you see him swat away the plush cow that sat nearby on a pillow from when you’d thrown it earlier.

“Hey,” you say, feigning protest, “That’s mean. He didn’t do anything.”

“I’m sure he’ll forgive me,” he says with a grin.

Your body is already exposed from the bath, and he takes advantage. He kisses down along your collarbone towards the valley of your breasts. His palms cup them at the sides as his lips coast over them. He always took his time with you when he could. He’d get to rush when you were in heat and soaked just from being in the room with him.

Your fingers lace through the strands of his hair as you draw in a sharp breath. He laves at your nipples and the sensitive flesh of your breasts. His tongue caresses along the curves slowly, building your anticipation and causing your tummy to start fluttering.

His hand slides down your body, dipping between your legs to seek out your center. His fingers brush against the velvet folds and feel how they’re beginning to grow slick with your arousal. He swirls around your clit before pressing down on the sensitive nub and rubbing. Your lips part as you mewl.

“Is daddy already making you feel good, baby?” he coos.

You nod as your face starts to morph into that pouty look you get when you’re worked up. He loves every second of it and continues flicking his middle finger against the bud.

“You gonna let me show you how perfect you are, hm?” he asks.

You simply whine in response and tilt your head back against the pillows.

“That’s my girl. So fuckin’ pretty when you get like this,” he says.

He swipes his fingers up and down some more until he feels you're wet enough and ready to take him. He was certain you could take it without as much prep. Over the last couple of months, you’d you’d shown him the phrase “fucking like rabbits” was true after all, but he liked making you feel like you needed it. He like dragging his tip against your entrance, teasingly prodding the head of his cock at your hole. He savored the way you whine and squirm for it. Just like you were doing right now.

He pushes it in you, a deep groan coming from him as he sinks in all the way to the hilt. The way your eyes flutter and droop drives him crazy. His arms cage you down on the mattress as his knees sink into the plush blankets for leverage so that he can start thrusting.

“Perfect fit, that’s for sure,” he grunts, “No one else can take my cock like you can.”

You nod, whimpering and holding onto him. “Made for my daddy,” you say before gasping.

“Yeah you were. My perfect angel bunny. Sent down just for me,” he says and starts rocking his hips.

You writhe within the confines of his arms. Your breasts push up against his chest as your back arches. He fucks into you deep as he can, just how he knows you like it. Gripping your wrists, he pins them on the mattress, keeping you secure and in place so that he can piston his hips against you without interruption.

His own head tilts back, eyes shutting and lips separating the smallest bit. You gaze up at him like he’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen. Every bit of him makes you clamp around his length.

“Such a good girl,” he mutters, “This is just what you needed. Just needed daddy to breed you and get you nice and calm again.”

That word makes your fuse burn faster, and you nod vigorously. “Can’t help it daddy,” you whimper, “I’m just a bunny. Don’t know any better.”

“Oh, I know, baby. Sweet little bunny like you needs to be bred. You need daddy’s cock to function, don’t you? Nothing feels right if you haven’t been bred,” he says, picking up more speed.

“Mhm,” you squeak.

Your legs start trembling hard as he hammers into your sweet spot over and over. To stabilize you, he lets go of your wrists and places his palms on the back of your thighs. He’s pressing you so hard into the mattress it feels like you might drop through straight to the floor. You cry out for him again and again, spurring him on.

“Good girl. I gotta breed my perfect little bunny. Fuck you nice and full like you deserve,” he grunts. The bed creaks with the force of his movements.

He pants as he drills into you. His head eventually falls forward to your shoulder again, but his hips don’t stop rolling.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum so hard, you’re gonna end up with a whole litter,” he moans.

Your eyes roll back and your legs lock around his waist. “Need it, daddy. Please,” you whine and clutch at his shoulders.

“I need it too baby. Need to knock up my sweet baby bunny. Gotta get you nice and full so everyone knows you’re all mine,” he says.

You’re both almost at the peak, gripping each other as tight as possible, sucking in air like there’s a limited supply. Both of you are moments from snapping when Leon’s eyes screw shut, his mind clouded by images of you pregnant with his babies. It’s too much, and he’s snapping into you like he’ll die otherwise.

“You’re gonna be the prettiest mama to our perfect babies,” he moans against you before his body starts sputtering.

The feeling of his cum flooding into you is enough to throw you over the edge with him. You seize up, back arching off the bed like you're possessed. You babble out some words of love, but all of it gets lost. You’re so jumbled up from the high, you both can only cling to each other as you ride it out.

You’re still breathing heavy as you come down, and so is he. Puffs of his breath come out right next to your ear. He lazily kisses below the lobe as you come back to reality.

“You see how important to me you are? See how much I love you?” he murmurs as he carefully rolls over and brings you to rest on his chest with him still buried inside you.

You nod and peck his jaw as you settle against him.

“Good. I never want you thinking like that again. If you ever need a reminder of what I think of you, I want you to tell me, and I’ll give you this same reminder.”

“I will,” you agree softly as he strokes your back.

You’re both exhausted from the exertion and the long day. He’s content to just melt into the bed while tangled up with you.

“Gonna keep you plugged up for a while, baby. Gotta make sure it takes, my sweet girl,” he mumbles as his eyes start drooping.

You gaze up at him, pretty sure you have hearts in your eyes. Your doubt and sadness had been abated for now. You nuzzle him and kiss his chest before trying to get some rest yourself.

“Love you daddy. So so much,” you whisper.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy smut #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #resident evil x you

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perlelune · 2 months

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Training Wheels | Coriolanus Snow | ii.

Your mother's macabre work never appealed to you as you always preferred the comfort of your books, but when her apprentice takes a special interest in you, your safe, quiet world is flipped upside down.

Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Gaul!Reader, Shy Reader, Manipulation, Parental Neglect, Drinking, Peer Pressure, Hazing, University set, Loss of Virginity, Dumbification, Insecurities, Abusive Relationship, Degradation, Suicide Attempt

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

The clock catches your eye the second your ethics class ends. You pick up your things and make your way to the exit. It’s lunch time. You can’t erase the conversation you had with Coriolanus from your mind. His eyes, his smile, his smell, his voice…everything about him makes your head a little cloudy. Boys have never been your concern before, especially because of Mother. It’s not that she ever forbade you to date, experiment. It was more of a silent understanding, a quiet agreement. There are more important things than boys in this world. Like science, or rebuilding the world after the war. Mother herself has only one love. Her research. So you always supposed it is your duty to aim to be the same way. Therefore, while everyone around you talked about crushes and first kisses and…other things since middle school, you’ve kept your head in your books.

It’s not like you never noticed how pretty some of the boys at the Academy were. Boys like…Coriolanus Snow. It just always felt forbidden. As Volumnia Gaul’s daughter, you had to be above it all.

Hence your predicament. What does someone like Coriolanus Snow want from you?

The question keeps swirling inside your head as you approach the cafeteria. His attention never swayed in your direction before. Towards girls like Persephone, Clemensia or Livia, perhaps. But you? The very idea is ludicrous.

You make a stop near the lunch room’s door. It’s already brimming with students. Animated chatter fills the cafeteria and you dourly note the groups that have formed. Even Lysistrata, the infamous loner, has found her tribe with the likes of Io Jasper, Persephone Price and some red-haired boy you don’t know. A few months have already passed. You should have found a crowd by now, a group of like-minded people that’d tolerate your presence. But every time you approach someone, you get tongue-tied and your mind blanks. How does one even strike up a conversation out of the blue? It still stuns you that Coriolanus spoke to you with such ease. Though you surmise the Snow heir is comfortable with people in a way you’ll never be.

Your gaze travels to his table. Coriolanus and his friends. They seem absorbed by an intense conversation, Festus waving his arms while Clemensia shakes her head in apparent disbelief.

You shift the books between your arms. Feet rooted to the floor, you struggle to move. You watch the exchange, pondering how to weave your way through the cafeteria without drawing too much attention to yourself.

As you contemplate your next move, blue eyes find yours across the cafeteria. Coriolanus’ lips curve upwards. Your pulse soars. The rest of the table seems to note your presence. Clemensia places a hand in front of her mouth and laughs. Then the rest of them, bar Coriolanus, begin to laugh as well.

Your chest clutches, fire creeping inside your cheeks. They must be laughing at you. Of course. It’s the only explanation that makes sense. This was a stupid idea. Stepping back, you dash through the hallways. The library will be a more appropriate spot for your lunch break, as it often is. Quieter. Less crowded. Safe and familiar. The wooden rows brimming with books are your shield against the noise and chaos of the world outside.

It’s where you belong anyway. Besides, you still have your notes of the morning to peruse and memorize. You can’t afford to fall behind.

The rest of the week transforms you into a nervous wreck. After you fail to show up for lunch, Coriolanus’ unnerving cobalt stare appears to follow you everywhere. Whether it’s in the lecture hall, the hallways or even the library, your safe haven, the Snow heir’s presence always lingers near. Still, you try to resume your usual routine, both at the Capitol University and the Citadel.

Tasks are never amiss in Mother’s lab. Between the mutts to feed, filing the archives and cleaning the subjects’ glass cases, something always requires your attention anyway. All the important jobs aren’t yours to have. Just menial tasks. It’s all Mother said you can manage anyways. Back when you were little, your mother paid sporadic attention to you. She’d spend time with you, show you the specimens, talk about her work. However she quickly lost interest in you once she realized your lack of ambition, intellect and inclination for casual cruelty. For a fleeting stretch of time, you know your mother harbored hope that you could succeed her, continue her research, complete her breakthroughs. Those hopes are now forever buried, along with any sliver of expectation Mother had for your future.

You couldn’t stomach the thought of her experimenting on live creatures and kept asking if they were in pain, or if they missed their family, if once she was done, she would send them back home. Mother grew annoyed by it. To this day, you feel she still holds that against you.

Once your work for the evening is done, you take a rare break in one of the empty offices. While you’re aware it’d be best to go over your flash cards for the upcoming exams, the motivation to do it isn’t with you today. The entire week all you’ve done is study, burning the midnight oil at both the University library and home. A break would be welcome. You’re craving it in fact.

So instead of your study books, you collect a novel from your leather satchel. Heart fluttering in anticipation, your fingers sweep over the cover. This one details the forbidden tryst between a prince and a castle maid. Your cheeks warm as you land on the scene you didn’t get to finish last time.

As you sink into the story, oblivious to the world around you, you don’t hear the soft steps circling closer to you.

Warm air fans over your shoulder as a deep voice erupts from behind you.

“I didn’t realize smutty romance novels were on the curriculum.”

Astonishment plucks a gasp from you. The swivel chair spins as you bolt to your feet, the book in your hands dropping to the floor with a heavy thud. Your eyes widen as Coriolanus’ towering frame invades your line of sight.

He slowly crouches to pick up your novel. As he gives it a quick once over, flipping through the yellowed pages, a smile blooms on his lips.

“These are smuggled from the Districts, aren’t they?” he inquires, a hint of disdain coating his utterance of the word ‘district’. Embarrassment flushes through you as Coriolanus’ gaze roams across the pages. “Interesting choice.” His eyes rise to meet yours. Your heart misses a beat. “Does Dr. Gaul approve?”

“N-Not really,” you confess with a small voice, fiddling with the cuff of your lab coat.

His smirk broadens at that.

The blond causes you to leap back as he snaps your book shut.

“I was expecting you at lunch the other day,” he says, edging closer to you.

Your mouth dries. “I was busy.”

Coriolanus’ brow quirks.

“Too busy for lunch with me?”

“It wasn’t just you.”

He pauses, searching your face. His silent scrutiny makes your nerves thrum. You freeze in your spot, hands squeezing the edge of the desk behind you.

After an eternity goes by, he states gently, “We weren’t laughing at you.”

Your jaw hangs slack. You feel self-conscious as his keen blue eyes hold yours, peeling the layers of you.

He heaves out a long sigh.

“Festus just said something stupid and Clemmie happened to look in your direction. I’m sorry you thought that.”

“I didn’t think anything,” you mumble, shrugging.

His face pinches ever-so-slightly.

“Yes.” He gets even closer, chest almost brushing yours. Your stomach tightens. “Yes, you did,” he articulates. “So I’m making sure you know. No one was laughing at you that day. And Clemmie wouldn't do that. She’s the nicest girl I know.”

You study Coriolanus, struck by the sincerity laced in his tone. You aren’t used to anyone considering your feelings. Besides, you don’t find it in you to argue, remembering Clemensia’s kindness on multiple occasions at the Academy. She is also one of the few wealthy students who never picked on the departed Sejanus Plinth for his roots in District Two, even defending him from Arachne’s cruelty on one occasion. Relief flows inside your chest. So you weren’t the reason behind their laughter that day. It feels strangely good, knowing that, especially coming from Coriolanus himself.

He cocks his head and scoffs, “We aren’t at the Academy anymore. Why would we do something this childish? That’s silly.”

“Yeah, I guess it’s a little silly,” you mechanically reply, something about his definitive tone making you feel dumb for even letting your mind wander there. You give a shaky nod. “Thank you.”

He hums as if he were lost in thought. His fingers then slide below your chin, startling you.

“You don’t have to lie to me, you know?”

Confusion has you blinking rapidly.

“I’m sorry?”

His digits latch around your jaw, his features disturbingly still.

“Just then, you lied,” he notes. “About it not bothering you. You don’t need to do that with me.” He pauses, tracing the curve of your bottom lip. “Besides, between you and I, you’re very bad at it.”

An anxious chuckle peals from your lips.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, curiosity evident on his features.

A hollow smile tugs your lips.

“It’s just that Mother says the same thing, that I’m a horrible liar.” It’s just one of the myriad of things you’ve always failed at. Fooling others and pretending.

Wars are won with heads, not hearts.

Coriolanus places his hand besides you on the desk, looming over you in a way that has your pulse quicken. You grow dizzy as his scent coats the air.

“You know…Clemmie and the girls were looking forward to meeting you,” he intones.

Disbelief fills you. “T-They were?”

“You’ve been so discreet during our Academy days. Everyone was just curious, that's all.” His feathery lashes sag, caressing his cheekbones. “About what you were like.”

“Oh.”

“Well, you’re a bit of an enigma, angel. The daughter of the Head Gamemaker who never talks to anyone. That makes people wonder.”

“I’m not that interesting.”

Coriolanus takes a long minute to drink you in. Your skin tingles with his intense focus. Somehow in the dim light of the office, his blue eyes seem to come alight with a strange glint.

“I disagree,” he slowly states. “I think you’re very interesting.”

You lick your lips. “I’m really not.”

Your only answer is that cryptic smile he likes to wear.

“So…you still owe me lunch.” He slants his head. “We can go together if you like.”

“Together?”

“Yes. You don’t have to feel scared if I’m with you.”

When you bow your head, hesitation lingering within you, he tilts your chin up.

“No one would dare make fun of you if I’m around. Trust me, angel.”

There’s an unfaltering certainty cinching his tone, as if repercussions were sure to befall whoever questions him.

Your forehead creases.

“You don’t have to do that, you know.”

“What?” he asks, his dark brows knitting.

“All of…that.” You turn away from him, reflexively gripping your forearm. “I-I’m fine on my own. Always have been.”

Surprise floods your insides when no snappy reply pours from his lips. Instead of answering, the blond leans away from you and releases your chin. He observes you as you remain still. You can’t help trying to figure out what thoughts bounce through his head. He must think you’re an idiot, isolating yourself like that, missing out on everything the world has to offer. If only he knew. There is no space for you in the world. Nowhere for you to fit. As Coriolanus heads for the door, the tension in your body melts a bit.

“I’ll see you in class,” he announces after several harrowing minutes of silence.

As he makes to leave, you’re hit with the realization that he still has your book in his hand.

“Coriolanus?” you call. He stops in his tracks, head pivoting towards you. “My book…”

This draws a subtle smile from him. Coriolanus makes no move to return your novel, turning his back to you as if you hadn’t called him out.

Mouth agape, you watch him take his leave without another word.

The next day, you think yourself free of Coriolanus Snow’s peculiar scrutiny. Right after the morning classes end, you head to the library. You are determined to enjoy a peaceful lunch break, have a few unenthusiastic bites of the stale sandwich you packed this morning and maybe get a head start on your molecular cell biology courses. Another topic that has you drowning in class, that you’ll need twice as much work to pass.

Naturally, however, the blond has other plans.

He shows up again while you’re sitting at the bottom of a shelf so high it nearly touches the vaulted ceiling of the library. You find him staring at you from the corner of your eye.

Your heart bounces inside your chest as your gaze crosses his.

He plops down next to you on the floor.

“Coriolanus,” you chide hotly, your voice just above a whisper. “You have to stop doing that.”

A lopsided smile decorates his handsome features.

“I like how flustered you get. It’s cute,” he replies, mirth dripping from his soft timbre. There isn’t an ounce of guilt in his words, as if the mere fact that your reaction entertains him is justification enough.

A frown mars your brow as your focus shifts back to your Biology book.

“Shouldn't you be having lunch with your friends?”

“Hm…someone’s missing at my table.”

Your nails sink into your palm, your frown deepening.

“You’re persistent.”

His raspy chuckle ripples through your skin.

“I prefer determined, angel,” he mutters, much closer than you’d like. “What are we reading today?”

“N-Nothing. Just going through my notes.”

“You don’t have to study all the time, you know.”

“No, I do.”

He hums his disapproval.

“You don’t.”

“I’m not like you, Coriolanus. I’m…” Your voice trails off. Your mind whirls as your spirits plummet. Mediocre? Dumb? Average? You couldn’t conjure the exact word, as each encapsulates a little bit of what you are. An anomaly amidst the best and the brightest in the Capitol. Regardless of your shortcomings, you want to prove Mother wrong. Besides, you’d feel so proud of yourself if you could stand on that stage one day and collect your diploma with honors. You bite your lips closed. “Nevermind.”

“You put a lot of pressure on yourself, angel.”

“Well, I don’t have a choice.” You try to ignore him. However it’s all for naught, the words blurring on the page as all sense and logic in the text is siphoned by Coriolanus’ unsettling blue stare. Your teeth clench as you sigh. “Are you just going to watch me…the entire time?”

“Maybe.” He pauses, licking his lips. “Or we could go to the cafeteria like I said.”

You gasp when he slams the book in your lap shut.

“I already told you-”

“You can’t hide away forever, angel,” he interrupts.

Ignoring your protests, Coriolanus grabs your hand and pulls you to your feet.

“Come,” he urges, already dragging you through the library.

“Wait, Coriolanus…” You almost topple over your own feet as you’re forced to keep up with his long-legged steps.

“I’m making a different choice for you, angel,” he chimes. He tosses you a teasing glance above his shoulder. “It’s okay, we don’t bite…Most of the time.”

Apprehension tangles your insides as you and Coriolanus approach the cafeteria. Coriolanus doesn’t hesitate as he crosses the threshold with your hand in his. All eyes rest on you and the Snow heir, some of the chatter dwindling while whispers fill the room. Heat creeps inside your face. Coriolanus ‘ friends too admire the strange spectacle, a mix of shock and interest mingling on their faces.

Once you reach his table, he pulls a chair out for you. You take a tremulous seat, trying your best not to cower beneath the curious eyes cast your way. Coriolanus sits next to you, his fingers clutching yours in encouragement beneath the table before he lets go of your hand.

Briefly lifting your eyes, you give a bashful wave.

“H-Hi,” you say.

Livia Cardew doesn’t say anything, her narrowed eyes drifting between you and Coriolanus like she’s desperately trying to solve a riddle that won’t yield its meaning. Ivy Briarose is too focused on her nails to pay attention to you.

Clemensia’s much perkier. She offers you her hand to shake. You take it.

“Nice to meet you, I’m-”

“I know who you are,” you reply. Your eyes widen as you note how strange a thing it is to utter to somebody you’ve never spoken to. But she takes it in stride, flashing you a sunny grin.

As you and the brunette shake hands, the sleeve of her dark blouse slides up her forearm, exposing a hint of the skin of her wrist. Your mouth drops in shock. The small patch of flesh is covered in scales, mottled in faint neon colors. This looks eerily familiar and your gaze lingers longer than it should.

Clemensia rushes to cover her scarred wrist.

“Sorry,” you sputter, your embarrassment reaching its crest. It was rude to stare. You should have caught yourself.

But the brunette brushes it off with a nonchalant huff.

“Oh, that? Looks familiar?” Clemensia bends to whisper in your ear, “Little gift from your mother.” Your blood turns to ice. She flashes her pearly smile, tossing her glossy black strands over her shoulder. “It’s alright though. Most of them have faded.” She unleashes a wry laugh. “It was much worse before…during the Games.”

You open your mouth, your brain scrambling for something to say…Anything. Mother hurt Clemensia, to prove a point probably, knowing her. You should say something, offer comfort, an apology perhaps. But your mind turns up blank. You shift awkwardly in your seat.

The panicked flurry of your thoughts is halted when Clemensia abruptly seizes your hands, squeezing them between hers.

She beams at you.

“You know what? I get the feeling that you and I are gonna be great friends.”

#dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games #tbosas fanfiction #dark!coriolanus snow x reader

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star-wrote · 2 months

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ao3 link

Character: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader | Prison Era

Summary: After somehow convincing Daryl to let you go on a hunt with him, you stop to admire a pretty flower. Little did you know, the pollen would have an… interesting effect on you.

Warnings: smut, swearing, sexual details, sex pollen??, insecurity on daryl’s part, a little fluffy, a little angsty, apparently no threat of walkers bc they get it on in the woods.

Word Count: 2,500 ish

18+

Convincing Daryl to let you tag along on a hunt was a task in itself. He was the closest thing you had to a best friend these days, so he knew how antsy you got when being behind the prison gates for too long. He felt the same way. That didn’t mean he was going to let you go out into possible danger any easier though. You practically had to drop to your knees and beg him to let you join, swearing you’d bring extra luck for him to catch a deer. Muttering something like “ain’t need no luck” under his breath, he eventually agreed to let you join. You pretended not to see his cheeks redden when you wrapped your arms around his neck in an excited hug.

That was about two hours ago. Now, you were following him through the forest as he tracked some animal. You were doing your best to keep quiet, given the fact that he had scolded you just about five minutes ago for walking too carelessly (whatever that means). You started to grow bored. Sure it was nice being away from the prison, but you figured your best friend would entertain you in at least some conversation. You should’ve known better, this was Daryl Dixon.

You were about to suggest playing a silly game of truth or truth when you saw something pink out of the corner of your eye. You paused and walked over, observing a beautiful flower that looked like it belonged to a storybook. Your internal battle of deciding whether or not to pick it was fast as you assumed a walker would just trample it anyway. So you picked it.

Daryl knew right away that you weren’t following him anymore, so he paused for a drink of water while he watched you get distracted by a flower. He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t fight the smile as he noticed you pick it and immediately bring it to your nose to inhale the scent. As you pulled it away from your face, he saw it left pink specks of pollen on your nose.

“Ya got a lil somethin’ on yer nose.”

Instead of a reply, he was met with a series of four loud sneezes.

“Jeez woman, gonna draw all the walkers in.”

You giggled, wiped your nose, and finally replied with a small, “sorry.”

“If yer done pickin’ flowers, let’s get back to trackin’ this deer,” he said as he grabbed his bag from where he placed it on the forest floor.

You gasped, “You didn’t tell me we were tracking a deer! I told you I would bring good luck.”

He rolled his eyes at you for the second time that day and muttered “stop.”

It started as an ache in between your legs. It wasn’t particularly unpleasant, but it was surprising how strong it was.

You weren’t unfamiliar with the feeling of arousal. You were a girl who knew her own body. At least before the end of the world. There wasn’t enough time, safety, or privacy to bring yourself pleasure. Not to mention the lack of people throwing themselves at you.

Still, it was unfamiliar for you to feel so much arousal on a hunt with Daryl.

Daryl.

You found your gaze wandering to the archer taking sure steps in front of you. His shoulders seemed to be broader than normal… no, he was always this large. Your eyes went lower as you found yourself thinking about what else had to be large, accidentally letting out a whimper.

Daryl didn’t stop walking, just tossed a “ya okay?” over his shoulder.

You shook your head, as if it would cleanse your brain of the impure thoughts you had for your best friend, and answered.

“Yeah, sorry, just tripped over my feet. You know me, super clumsy haha.” Stop talking!

He just grunted in response. Phew.

You wondered if he would grunt like that while he was deep inside of you…

This time you actually did trip, bumping into the firm man in front of you. He whipped around and grabbed you by your shoulders.

“Tha’ hell? What’s gotten into ya?”

Not you, sadly.

He looked at you more deeply and noticed your face was flushed pink like the flower you still held in your hand, and your chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths.

“Are ya okay? Ya bit?” He asked with a worried look as his eyes ran down your frame.

It wouldn’t make sense for you to have gotten bit, he was with you the entire time. No, it was something else.

You looked up at him with a glazed look in your eyes and got out the words “so hot.” You weren’t sure if you were talking about your body temperature or him at this point. His big hands on your shoulders felt as if they were burning holes through your skin. The ache between your legs had turned into a stabbing pain, and your lower stomach felt a different kind of hunger. Lust.

Daryl was beyond worried when he saw you drop your flower to clutch at your stomach. His eyes looked to the flower and recognition finally crossed his brain. Oh no.

He scooped you up bridal style, and you all but moaned. Now that he knew what was happening, a blush reached his face. He carried you to a nearby willow tree next to a lake and sat you down under the shade. You whined when he let go, so he made sure to at least grab your hands with his.

“Sunshine? I need ya to listen to me.”

You met his eyes and nodded, but still had a glazed over expression.

He sighed, knowing this was the best it would get. “I think tha’ flower ya smelled was one of those aphrodisiacs. A really strong one too. I remember reading about it in that unique plants of Georgia book ya found for me.”

Your eyes widened and you let out another whine. “It hurts so bad. I- I need. Ugh.”

“Ya need to just wait it out. Could be a couple of hours.”

“No Daryl I can’t. I need you to fix it. Please fix it.”

He wasn’t sure what you were asking for, but he knew he’d give you anything if you asked him with those big, round eyes.

“Honey, I’m not sure what yer askin’.

“Need you to fuck me.”

That stopped his breath where it was in his chest. His eyes widened as he looked anywhere but your desperate face. He knew you weren’t in your right mind. You didn’t actually want him, you just wanted to act on the arousal you felt. He wasn’t sure he could handle your touch if it wasn’t genuine.

He was drawn out of his thoughts as he saw you strip your shirt off out of the corner of his eye. Somehow, his face grew even more red.

“Nah, you don’t wanna do this. You don’t want me.”

“Daryl please, I only want you. I’ve only wanted you for so long. Since the farm. Not just your body, but your soul and mind and thoughts and oh my god please I just need you to fuck me. Make it go away please.” You cried.

His heart stopped at your confession. Was this true or was it just the drug from the flower talking?

He brought his hands up to your cheeks and looked into your eyes as you nuzzled into his warm palms.

“Need ya to look at me.” He waited until your eyes met his. “Need ya to tell me that you really want this, want me. And that ya wont regret it.”

You brought your hands to his on your face. “I promise. I want you. I want you so bad. Only you.”

With that, he roughly pushed his lips to yours in a heated kiss. You could’ve melted then and there. Especially when you moved your hand to wrap around the back of his hair and heard the sound he let out. A kind of grunt that you had only heard in your dreams until then.

“Imma take care of ya. Don’t worry baby.” He panted.

Clothes were off in an instant, but Daryl’s shirt stayed on. You knew about the scars and had seen them a few times, but you didn’t want to push him. Plus, you weren’t in the state to reassure him much anyway.

He currently had you on your back on the soft moss next to the willow tree, his mouth sucking your clit and fingers deep in your pussy. He said he needed to warm you up, even after you tried to convince him you were warmed up enough. You had a feeling it was more for him to prepare himself anyway.

It was heavenly, his eyes closed and arms wrapped around your thighs. His tongue never stopping at lapping up your wetness. His fingers gently but firmly hooking into you at a steady pace. It was perfect.

But it wasn’t enough.

“Daryl, please, I need more. I need you, please.” You gasped out.

He released your clit with a wet pop and pulled his fingers out of you, licking them clean of your juices. Your eyes could’ve rolled back in your head at the sight.

“Alright,” he rasped out, “quit yer whinin’ girl.”

You grinned up at him as he pumped his cock in his hands. You knew he was big.

He must’ve seen you drooling over his dick because he smirked and gently caressed your cheek before popping his thumb into your mouth for you to suck.

You weren’t sure where this newfound confidence came from, but god you loved it.

He took his thumb out and shushed you as you whined in protest.

“Ya ready for me baby?”

You could’ve nodded until your head fell off. His “warming you up” took the edge off, but the ache was back in full force, begging for you to just jump on him.

“Please Daryl. Need you so bad.”

“Alright, alright. Tell me if anythin’ hurts. I’ll try and be gentle baby.”

Your heart swooned but your lust clouded brain wanted you to yell at him to not be gentle. Instead, you settled on nodding at him.

Daryl placed his tip at your entrance and looked into your eyes as he pushed inside. Any amount of hesitance he felt dissipated as soon as he felt your wet, warm walls squeezing him.

The stretch you felt was the relief you needed. You felt your thoughts clear, as well as your clouded eyes.

Daryl noticed the change immediately and kissed your nose, then your forehead.

“Ya okay? Want me to stop?” He asked with a hint of embarrassment. Now that he solved your “problem” he was worried that you’d suddenly find him less appealing and grow disgusted with him. He tried to push the thoughts away, but his brain has always been programmed to doubt himself. He felt your arms snake up his back and hold on tight to him as your legs wrapped around him to keep him inside of you.

“Don’t you dare stop.” You breathed out, still accommodating to the stretch you felt between your legs. “I still want you. Still need you.”

Even though the effects of the pollen were sated as soon as he entered you, that didn’t stop you from being turned on by the archer. You always knew you wanted something more with him, and now you were finally getting it. So you bucked your hips up further on his length with a moan.

He closed his eyes tight to prevent himself from thrusting the rest of the way into you. He knew he was big, and now that you were thinking more clearly, he knew that he had to be more gentle. When he opened his eyes, he saw you looking at him with wide eyes and your teeth tugging on your lower lip. God, you were beautiful.

He brought your hands above your head and locked your fingers with his. Then he slowly and finally filled you up the rest of the way. You both gasped and squeezed each other’s hands.

You let out a whine when he pulled out again, but sighed as he thrusted back in.

“Harder, you won’t break me.” You pleaded with him.

“I gotcha.” His next thrust was hard enough for you to release his hands and clutch onto his back. He leaned on one of his arms above you and brought the other to press into your lower stomach. “You feel me right here, baby? So deep huh?”

“Oh my god!” You moaned out for him. “Daryl… feels so good.”

He just thrusted faster and harder in response, desperate to make you feel good like you deserve.

He felt you tighten around him and he read your body signs with ease, as if you two had done this a million times before. He brought the hand was pressing on your lower stomach down to find and circle your puffy clit, getting a reaction immediately. You gasped and scratched your nails down his covered back as you somehow got out the word, “gonna-“

“I know, let go for me baby, c’mon.” He felt himself getting closer, wishing so bad that he could stay inside your cunt and finish there, but he knew the risks.

You tugged his body into yours as you finished around him, squeezing him in more ways than one.

Daryl let you ride out your pleasure before pulling out of the sweet cunt that kept sucking him in. It only took two pumps for him to release all over your inner thighs with a raspy grunt. He sat back on his knees and watched as his cum trickled down the puffy wetness between your legs and fell into the moss below him. He wished he has a camera in a moment like this, but he decided to settle on a mental snapshot for later.

He grabbed his handkerchief from his pants on the forest floor and wiped his cum from your thighs. You smiled up at him even though he wouldn’t meet your eyes. You grabbed his hand when he finished and brought it up to your lips to kiss his knuckles.

You could’ve laughed at the blush that crossed his features. This man just said the dirtiest things to you without shame, but got so shy over a small kiss to his hand.

When Daryl finally met your eyes, a look of relief showed on his face as he saw the smile that graced your lips. He suddenly collapsed onto his back next to you and brought your face to his in the sweetest kiss ever experienced between you two.

“This wasn’t a one time thing, right?” You asked, furrowing a brow at him.

He pecked your pouted lips again. “Nah, now that I have ya, I ain’t lettin’ ya go.”

As you and Daryl enjoyed the blissful silence together, tracing fingers along each other’s frames, you both jumped when you heard sticks cracking a couple of feet away.

You both relaxed when you saw that it was the deer that brought you both out here in the first place. You started giggling uncontrollably, scaring the deer away.

Daryl scoffed. “Last time I take ya on a hunt with me, woman.”

You just continued giggling into his chest with the smile that he adored.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon twd #twd #the walking dead #smut #pollen #fanfic #fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead daryl #daryl x female reader #twd daryl #daryl x you #daryl x y/n

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 3 months

Text

Daddy’s Girl

Dean Winchester & daughter!reader

Synopsis: your life growing up as Dean’s daughter (ignores cannon)

You were born of Dean’s short-lived relationship with Lisa. When he was forced to leave his family behind to keep them safe, he was also forced to take you with him. He’d wanted to leave you, to keep you safe, but with Lisa and Ben’s memories wiped of him, you got wiped with him.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said as Dean held you in his arms. “There’s no way to erase you without erasing her, too.”

Despite how much Dean wanted to keep you safe, he couldn’t find it in himself to regret how things turned out.

…

Sam pursed his lips, and Dean couldn’t hold back his laugh when he spotted his brother covered in broccoli.

You started giggling when you noticed your father’s smile, but Dean clamped his mouth shut when he saw you laughing.

“Hey now,” he scolded, trying desperately to look stern despite still being able to see the broccoli in Sam’s hair. “Don’t throw food.”

“Is yucky!” You whined, kicking your feet.

Dean gave you his signature ‘dad glare’ and you gave him the puppy eyes that he was convinced Sammy taught you just to drive him nuts.

Neither of you were willing to give in, far too stubborn for anyone’s good. Finally, Sam broke the awkward silence.

“How about we try a new veggie?”

…

“What are you watching?”

Dean tore his eyes away from the screen to see Sam standing in the doorway.

“Saw, why?”

Sam scoffed, “Do you think she’s old enough for that?” He gestured to five-year-old you, curled up in your dad’s arms.

“She’s out like a light, she has no clue what’s going on,” Dean assured him.

“So what, she’s your new stuffed animal?” Sam chuckled.

“It’s called parenting, Sammy. Now shut up, you’re gonna wake her up.”

…

“Daddy, look!”

Dean rubbed his hands over his face, closing the lore book in front of him when you came bounding into the war room.

“Hey baby, what’s up?” He asked, his voice thick with exhaustion as he lifted you into his lap.

“I maked the Impala,” you grinned, showing off a pencil sketch of Baby colored in with a black crayon. “Uncle Sammy only helped a little.”

Dean could tell from the detail of the drawing that Sam helped more than a little, but he didn’t care.

“This is great!” He praised. “Baby would be so proud, looks almost as good as her.”

You giggled. “Can I hang it on the fridge?”

“I think it’d be a crime if we didn’t,” Dean insisted, standing up with you in his arms so he could carry you to the kitchen.

…

“Dad!”

Dean staggered back in surprise when ten-year-old you launched yourself into his arms the moment he stepped into the bunker.

“Hey kid,” he chuckled, but his smile dropped when he noticed your strangled breaths, and how tightly you were clinging to him. “You ok? We weren’t gone that lon-“

“Someone’s in the bunker,” you whispered, and Dean now also noticed that you were shaking.

“What?” He demanded, lowering you to the ground and grabbing his gun with one hand, keeping his other hand on your shoulder protectively.

“I-I heard footsteps,” you stammered, still trying to catch your breath. “So I ran, and-and I was looking for a place to hide when you opened the door.”

“You’re sure it was footsteps?”

“I know what I heard!” Your stammer left you when your fear turned to annoyance.

“Ok, ok,” Dean soothed. “I believe you. Now, I want you to go and hide in my room, ok? Stay there, and don’t open the door unless it’s me, understand?”

“B-but…” you glanced around nervously, unwilling to let go of your father.

“I need you to do this,” Dean said. “I need you safe, ok? You’re gonna be fine.”

You nodded, but Dean’s jacket was still clenched between your fingers.

“C’mon now, go!” Dean gave your arm a gentle push, and as soon as the two of you were no longer touching you seemed spurned into action. You ran in the other direction, headed straight for your dad’s room.

Once the door was closed and locked behind you, you immediately went to sit on Dean’s bed, your arms wrapped around your knees as you tried hard to stop your trembling.

You assured yourself over and over again that your dad would take care of it; he’d get the intruder out, and it would all be ok. When you heard footsteps echoing through the hall, your heart lifted, sure that your dad was coming to get you.

But then the doorknob jiggled as someone tried to open it. It stopped, but still no knock came, no “hey, it’s me,” from Dean; nothing.

Until with a loud bang! the door flew free of its hinges.

You scrambled back with a cry of surprise, and your hand found something hard under Dean’s pillow. You snatched it up as the intruder—a tall man with blond hair and a dark suit—stalked towards you.

You lifted the object, surprised when you saw that it was Dean’s gun.

“St-stay back!” You warned. The man hesitated for only a second before continuing his advance towards you.

“You don’t have the guts,” he scoffed. He took one more step—he was only a couple of feet away—and reached out to grab you.

The gun kicked back in your hands as you fired, and you nearly dropped it. A look of morbid shock crossed the man’s face, but it only lasted for a brief second as he slumped to the ground at the side of Dean’s bed.

Your whole body was shaking. Your hands didn’t seem able to let go of the gun. You could feel blood on your face where it had splattered.

“Sweetheart?”

Your whole body flinched at the sound of your father’s voice. He was in the center of the room—you hadn’t even noticed him come in—and his hands were held out towards you.

“Sweetheart, give me the gun.”

Your hands went limp when Dean grabbed the gun. He tossed it onto his bed, his attention never leaving your face, which was turned towards the dead man on the floor.

“Hey, Y/N, look at me,” Dean demanded. Your eyes slowly found your father’s, afraid of what you might find there. But there was no anger, or judgment, not even surprise. There was only comfort, maybe a little worry.

“Let’s go,” Dean said, lifting you into his arms. When he saw you staring at the dead man, he cradled the back of your head in his hand and pushed your face against his shoulder as he carried you out of the room.

“I killed him.”

Your voice came out muffled against Dean’s shirt, and Dean’s heart constricted at the quaver in your voice.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he soothed, subconsciously rocking you in his arms like he used to do when you could barely crawl. “He was gonna hurt you, you defended yourself. You did nothing wrong.” Dean sighed. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I didn’t want you to have to do that.”

“I killed somebody,” you said again, and Dean’s arms tightened around you. He knew he couldn’t talk you out of this; not yet, you were still in shock. So he’d do the only thing he could.

“It’s gonna be ok, baby,” he soothed. “I promise.”

…

“Where is that girl?”

“You lookin for Y/N?” Sam asked as Dean wandered around the bunker.

“Unless we’ve got another girl living here I don’t know about,” Dean shot back.

Sam just rolled his eyes.

“She’s in the library doing homework.”

“Again?” Dean shook his head. “I think I’ve let her spend too much time with you, she’s becoming quite the nerd.”

“Don’t look at me,” Sam chuckled. “I told her to take a break like an hour ago. That nerdy behavior is all her.”

“Alright, let’s go,” Dean closed the book in front of Sam. “You both need a break.”

“Ok,” Sam shrugged. “Good luck, she’s just as stubborn as you.”

“We’ll see.”

…

“Hey!” You yelped in surprise when your dad lifted you up and out of your chair, Sam watching from the doorway with a grin on his face.

“No more books, you two have spent too much time being nerds this week.”

“But I have a paper to write!”

“You mean that paper you told me is due in three weeks?”

“Well…”

“Uh huh,” Dean said. “You’ve got time, so take a break.”

“On one condition; we watch Lord of the Rings.”

“Sounds good to me,” Sam cut in.

“Oh come on,” Dean groaned. “Could you two be bigger nerds?”

“Don’t pretend that you don’t want to watch it,” you giggled, trying to squirm out of Dean’s hold since he still hadn’t put you down.

“I don’t remember asking for your input,” Dean huffed, setting you down on your bed and digging his fingers into your stomach. You squealed in surprise as your dad tickled you. “And I certainly didn’t ask for your sass!”

“Who-who do you thin-think taught it to me!” You giggled, squirming as Dean didn’t let up.

“Hey now!” Dean scoffed. “Now you’re just asking for it.”

Dean continued to scratch and poke at your sides, your stomach, and your neck until your face was bright red and your laughter was silent.

“Alright, let’s go,” Dean said as he let up, slinging you over his shoulder and making his way towards the Dean cave, Sam following behind.

“Yo-hou’re mean,” you giggled.

Dean just chuckled.

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl

#dean winchester #dean and sam #the winchesters #dean winchester x reader #supernatural dean #dean winchester x you #winchesters x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x daughter!reader #sam winchester x niece!reader

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jiyascepter · 2 months

Text

A Carnival Serenade

Masterlist

Want to be added to my taglist? Here!

Pairing: Loki x f!reader

Words: 915

Warnings/Content: pure fluff, grumpy x sunshine, cranky loki, teasing, reader is shorter than loki, est. relationship | lmk if there's more

Synopsis: A cheerful reader drags reluctant Loki into the chaos of a city carnival. Amidst cotton candy clouds, carnival games, and a spontaneous photo booth moment, unexpected sparks of affection and mischief intertwine, revealing that Loki has more to him under his stoic exterior.

A/N: I had so much fun writing this! Please pardon me, but this short is clichéd 😶‍🌫️

"Come on Loki!! Keep up with me!!" You shouted, turning back to see the grumpy God you had dragged with you to the city carnival that you absolutely loved to go to every year. Amazing food and games—why not?

Loki walked over to you with slow, reluctant steps to show his disinterest. He was judging—not you, but the people around him. His disgust for midgardians used to heighten whenever he used to go out with you. To his surprise, you take hold of his arm and start to drag him through the crowd. It was secretly funny to him to see such a little girl try to pull his tall, godly self.

"I fail to comprehend why you insist on subjecting me to this... spectacle," Loki grumbled, eyeing the vibrant chaos around you both.

"Come on, Loki! Lighten up a bit! Carnivals are all about fun and joy!" You chirped, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

Loki sighed, resigned to his fate, as you practically skipped towards the entrance. The carnival was a riot of colors, with the scent of popcorn and cotton candy lingering in the air. His eyes squinted against the bright lights.

You stop at a cotton candy cart, where you buy an oversized, pink cloud of sugar. You draw up your hand near his lips. "Here, try some! It's like eating a piece of happiness!" Loki raises his eyebrow, his hands crossed, as he leans in to take a small bite.

"It's excessively sweet," he remarks. "Yeah, isn't it amazing?" you beam up at him, and Loki struggles to oppose a smile. You notice that, but decide not to tease the grumbling god for now. You both continued exploring the place, pulling Loki from one attraction to another. Loki glanced at you from time to time, secretly admiring how excited you became with every little thing.

"Let's get matching face paint, Loki! It'll be like a secret bonding ritual," she suggested with a wide grin.

He huffs. "I'm not getting that," he says, before you give him that sweet look of yours that was absolutely irresistible to him. He complies and you chuckle, admiring how he always used to impassively try new things with you.

"I look no less than a jester," he complains after the artist draws a small heart with an arrow on his face and yours. "You look absolutely sweet to me," you say, leaning in to place a soft peck on his cheek.

That's what drove his body to absolutely melt for you.

He won't show it, but he was almost enchanted by this small showcase of physical affection you displaced. And he wanted more, but he couldn't ask for a kiss in this rushed place.

The night progressed, filled with laughter, rides, and carnival games. You even won a stuffed animal at the ring toss, holding it up triumphantly. "And a little plushie for my God of Mischief," you teased, earning a faint smirk from him. He loved it whenever you used to address him by his title.

You both wandered through the carnival hand in hand, and you stopped in front of a photo booth. "What do you say Loki? Care for a picture?" And before he could even grumble about it being a childish endeavour, you ran inside the closed booth, giggling excitedly. He follows after you, scoffing as he takes a seat beside you, facing the camera.

"Ridiculous. I have no interest in such frivolous displays." You jokingly pout at him, "Come on, just one for me, okay? Now suggest a pose." He sighs and thinks for a moment, then it strikes him.

"How about...a...kiss on the cheek? I've seen youngsters do it..."

To your amazement, his voice sounded surprisingly shy. Of course he was shy; he rarely asked for physical affection. You raise an eyebrow and softly chuckle, "Really? Loki, the God of Mischief, suggesting a pose involving physical affection? This is a rare sight." Loki scowled, attempting to salvage his composure. "It's merely for the sake of a photograph. Don't read too much into it."

You chuckle again. "Sure, then let's go with your pose then. Who would've thought you were into these cute and sentimental gestures?" You lean in, but struggle a bit to reach Loki's elevated height while sitting.

"You're too short for me, darling," he says, a tease of mischief in his voice, and he was grinning. Dissatisfied with the lack of intimacy, he couldn't resist the urge to take matters into his own hands—quite literally. With an unexpected swiftness, he picks you up and places you on his lap, and you couldn't help but blush at this sudden turn of events.

"There, much better," Loki muttered, his stoic expression tinged with a rare hint of amusement. Now that you were comfortably settled on his lap, he tilted his head to the side, inviting the cheek kiss rather demandingly. You smile, wrap your arms around his neck, and press a rather sweet kiss on his cheek. A subtle warmth enveloped the god, contrasting with the usual cool facade he wore. In that fleeting moment, the touch of your lips sparked an unexpected sensation—a mixture of surprise and an unfamiliar tenderness. Loki, who was quick to dismiss such feelings, couldn't deny the subtle flutter in his chest. He felt an air of brief vulnerability.

The camera captures the sweet moment, which not only showcases your cute pose but also the playful dynamic of your unlikely pair.

#jiya writes #t: loki oneshots #loki #tom hiddleston #loki x female reader #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki oneshots #loki imagine #loki x you #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki fluff #marvel #mcu

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zaddyneteyamlovergirl · 1 year

Note

I’ve never requested before, so i hope im doing this right

i love your writing and your writing of jake sullys daughter! If your taking request can i suggest jake sully x daughter!reader who is dating a boy and their relationship. (daughter!reader is a strong warrior while the boy is more of a healer or smth) . How would Jake handle this, his baby girl is growing up ::(

Baby Girl

A/N: Just took a small break because my boyfriend broke up with me lol. Wanted to say LOVED THIS IDEA KEEP EM COMING INBOX IS OPEN

Pairings: Sully! Daughter Reader x Tarsem, Sully! Daughter x Sully! Family platonic!

Warnings: Slight angst, Reader uses she/her pronouns, Loak being dumb, Jake being overprotective. Not proofread lol.

Summary: In which your family discover that you are in a relationship and someone, in particular, doesn't like it.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

“Draw it back and keep your shoulders up, pointed towards the sky.” Your mother whispers gently while observing your stance. You stood with exact precision, as she and your father had raised you to be. You don’t hesitate to send the arrow flying from your grip and towards the animal already moving quickly knowing the accuracy of your own shot. Neytiri admires for a second, a soft smile growing on her face as you send the creature back to Eywa with a prayer. You look back at her with a gentle roll of your eyes and sitting up gently wiping the blood from your hands onto your stomach.

“Mama, I still need your help skinning it that’s so gross.” You screw your face up and she giggles before moving towards you a skip in her step.

The people part as you land your ikran on High Camp and step off. You brush the braids from your face and part with your Mother who moves to set the meat aside. She watches you walk off with a gentle scoff appalled her eldest daughter didn’t even help her begin to put stuff away. “MAMA!” Tuk screeches crawling off from her Father’s arms and running full force into her Mother who grunts and picks her up to spin her around happily.

“Well hello Sexy.” Jake wolf whistles before kissing his wife on the lips and smacking her ass making all of his sons groan from behind him.

“Dad that’s literally disgusting.” Kiri remarks her nose scrunching and Lo’ak agrees with a gagging noise.

“You know what, you all literally came from me and your mother, show some love for love.” He wiggles his shoulders and everyone groans besides Tuk who tilts her head.

“Go and find your sister, she has not finished with her hunting.” Neytiri commands her kids holding up the meat in her hands and they all agree stealing Tuk who eagerly runs down the direction that her sister went towards.

Strutting confidently down and past the tents of the people who live near your head turns from side to side in confusion before a hand reaches out and grabs your wrist spinning you into the arms of your beloved and you giggle happily sighing glad to be within his gaze.

“My love.” Tarsem breathes out reaching out to press his hand against your cheek and you nuzzle into it staring up into his eyes. He takes a step back to examine your entire body noticing the blood on your stomach and the open cut on your foot and he tuts. He grabs the small amount of Sky Walker medicine from his side and squirts it onto the foot making you hiss loudly.

“I am fine Ma Tarsem, no need to freet. I am only in need for a kiss.” You purse your lips at him and he wastes no time in leaning up and kissing you softly, pressing you against the tent and gently grabbing your waist. Due to being occupied with the love of your life, you fail to notice the approach of your siblings.

“Y/N! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?” Tuk screeches and points at you both making you instantly pull away and look at them seeing an extremely fast approaching Lo’ak and Neteyam, both of which have the same look of rage on their faces.

Netetyam yanks you back while Lo’ak pulls his thumb and tucks it under his others forming a fist and punching Tarsem making them both yell out, Lo’ak being the loudest.

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

“What the fuck were you thinking!?” Neytiri screams at her sons pacing backwards and forwards in front of all of her kids, besides Tuk who is gently crying in your Fathers arms. His eyes never leave your face and you are unable to read his expression. Your mother sighs seeing the same thing as you do before leaning back.

“Neteyam, Lo’ak apologize to Tarsem, and Lo’ak thank him for healing your knuckles.”

“Even though he should’ve let them be in pain forever.” You mumble under your breath and your Mothers head snaps to yours rage very evident in her eyes.

“Y/N te Suli Neytiri‘ite, I suggest you shut that mouth right now young lady. Now scram.” She hisses at your brothers who tuck their tails between their legs and run out grabbing Tuk to join Kiri who is eavesdropping outside.

“Have you mated with this boy?” Your father spits out and looks at you both instantly making you blush.

“NO DAD!” You yelp out staring at him wide eyed and Tarsem coughs making Jake look at him hostile.

“Something to say boy?”

“FATHER!”

“Yes Sir, if I may.” Tarsem clears his throat before grabbing your hand ignoring the glare you are giving the side of his face. Neytiri pauses for a second her rage bubbling down while she notices something. The way you still wear the love for him in your eyes even while you’re angry. Your body relying heavily on his while trying to keep your distance. She is hit with a sense of deja vu.

“I love your daughter like no other. I know that I come from a family that isn’t particularly high considering this clan but I truly believe I can make her happy and treat her just as she needs to be. She is my mate, chosen from Eywa herself and whether or not you accept that, I will be by her side until the day she sends me away.” Tarsem finishes and you stare at him in bewilderment and love. Your Father notices and storms out heading quickly in another direction.

“I will be back.” You stand and follow after him quickly seeing him head off more deeper into the woods. He sees a stream and heads over flopping down with a huff. You quickly follow sitting next to him with a soft sigh.

“What do you want me to say baby girl?” He says after a few moments in silence, continuing to stare at the fish in the stream. You sigh and rest your head on his tense shoulder.

“I don’t want you mad at me for picking a boy who is lower in the clan.” You say quietly pulling your knees to your chest and laying your head on your knees with your ears pressed to your head. Jake’s head snaps towards you and he sighs pulling you into his arms and sitting you in a rocking position tucking your head into his chest.

“Baby girl, I will never disrespect who you love. A man, a woman anyone. Just hopefully not a Sky Walker.” You snort at that and shake your head.

“Then why are you so mad?” You ask and he sighs kissing your head.

“My baby girl is growing up and getting out into the world. I always knew once your grandmother stepped down as Tsahik, you would become the new one and you would eventually find a mate worthy of becoming Olo’eyektan with you, but now that’s happening a lot sooner and it just makes me sad, because you aren’t the little girl that would never leave me the fuck alone.” He has you crying and you hug him tightly.

“Daddy please don’t think that. I’m still 18! I have a few more years to worry about that.” You sniffle and he nods before sighing and pulling you up.

“I love you baby girl.” He grips you tightly in his arms and you smile.

“I love you too Dad.”

“Now let’s go meet this boy that’s so in love with you.” He teases you making you punch him and he winces walking back rubbing his arm and poking you the whole time back

#avatar the way of water #avatar twow #avatar #jake sully x daughter!reader #sully family #neytiri #neteyam sully #loak sully #y/n #sully fluff #sully!reader #tarsem #tuktirey #lol #this is shitty

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440gallery · 1 year

Text

Jealousy

Summary:: Neteyam must choose a mate. The girls from the village are fighting for him, and you're jealous. It ends in angry sex.

Pairing:: Neteyam x f!omaticaya!reader

Authors note: Characters are aged up around twenty

Content warning:: smut, violence (not much)

Word count:: 3.5k

Additional tags:: smut, jealousy, throat kink slightly, fist fight, angry smut, p in v, begging, riding that dick babessss

Coming back from the hunt with Neytiri, we gather the animals to the cookers across the hut, before approaching the Sully nest together, as she had invited me for dinner. Neytiri smiled lightly before our eyes fell away to two figures standing outside the nest. I raised my eyebrows, thinking it was only Lo’ak or Kiri but as we come closer, I recognized a female. And Neteyam. My brows furrowed as I felt the now familiar twinge of jealousy pulsing through me, the second Jake as Olo'ektan announced that his son was old enough for a mate. The girl stepped closer to him and i pushed my feelings down, making my way over to them, gollowing after Neytiri.

Shortly before the nest, Neytiri smirked and reached to tousle my hair before greeting her son.

My eyes fell on Neteyam, his figure strong and lean against the fading light of the day, eclipse nearing but making his features strong and in contrast to his soft voice. He leaned against the entrance from the Sully hut and whilst Neytiri spoke to him shortly, barely glancing at other female accompanying him, he certainly saw me, eyes glinting as he listened to his mother whilst his eyes were on me. She went inside and his attention was brought back to Liat, as she drew closer to him, bending her body in weird angles to show off her curves, leaning into him. His laugh echoed through the dim air as he seemed oblivious to her hand ghosting along his biceps.

Wariness coursed through my veins, seeing them together, knowing Neteyam could choose her and not me as a mate, since he was now of age. Every female knew and it was clear that now the hunt after him had begun. And even though I thought we were end game, sometimes it just didn’t seem that way. It made me realise that I wasn’t allowed to feel anything else but joy for him, and I hated that I couldn’t be happy for him when he so clearly deserved it. Gosh, but her hand! It made me itch with anger every time I saw another female tip toing around him, making their moves. Knowing Neytiri went inside already, I knew I should probably follow her, having taken the invitation to eat with the Sully family, knowing it was the best for me to just let this slide, since even when Neteyam was my best friend, he sure wasn’t feeling the same about me or even considered me his mate. Still, I couldn’t shake the annoyance from my features as I went over to them, giving Liat a glare before saying my greetings to my best friend.

“Teyam.” I nodded in his direction, seeing a smile bloom across his features, striking his beauty and once again taking my breath.

“Y/N” he said, moving his arm to slip it across my waist, pulling me into him, making me hide my smirk into his shoulder as he embraced me. Surely, I crashed Liat’s little show to get him to woo her. Sad, really. Neteyam’s fingers dragged leisurely against my back, sending a small shiver down my spine. I pulled out of his strong arms, still seeking the touch of his and the warmth but still trying to at least get some decency into the scenery. His smirk made my stomach drop, his arms still around my waist, his hand pressing flat against my abdomen, leaving me breathless, especially when his thumb began to draw little circles around my skin.

“How was the hunt?” He asked, his warm breath brushing my ear. I leaned into his body a little more, him taking the support in steading me, whilst I felt his muscled thigh against my backside.

“Good.” I said, before smiling and greeting Liat.

“Hello Liat.” She just threw me a glare, her eyes betraying her, showing every emotion she didn’t voice out.

“Hello, Y/N.” She said, faking a smile before bringing her attention back to Neteyam. “Nete, didn’t you want to bring me back to my nest?” she said, blinking her lashes up at him, trying to make her look sweet but to me she just looked stupid. As if Neteyam would find that attractive, but on the other hand, I didn’t know what he liked and what not. Neteyam sighed, quietly and only for me to hear, but it made me smile.

His hand squeezed my hip, before leaving me bare from his contact all together, only light touches before he turned back to me once more.

“You’re staying?” he asked and I smiled, whilst nodding to answer his question. His eyes glinted as he smiled, before sending me a wink.

“Oh, Y/N stays? Why can’t I stay too?” Liat asked, batting her eyelashes again making me want to rip them out slowly.

Neteyam looked conflicted but shook his head. I bit my lip to master the laugh that wanted to escape my throat because of her look in my direction.

“It’s better if you go back now.” He said, smiling, always the gentleman in front of others. Liat looked so disappointed that a laugh bubbled out of my chest, making her head snap into my direction, glaring daggers into my skin.

“Sorry, sorry.” I managed, before half turning to the nest, hiding the amusement across my features whilst facing the wall.

“Stupid bitch.” She muttered and I turned, raising an eyebrow at her hiss in my direction. A smirk grazed across my face as I neared her, but she stood her ground, which made me a little proud despite our dislike for each other. Many women cowered away from me, once they went vulgar but she stayed where she was, awaiting.

“No need to get mean.” I said lightly, my eyes ragging across her body, looking at her stance trying to predict her next move. She hissed at me, her eyes a burning fire.

“Liat.” Neteyam said strongly but I held my hand out, making him back off.

“Nete.” She said with pleading eyes, whisking over his body with a heady gaze, making me fume with jealousy. “Help me with her. She is just so disrespectful and interrupted our conversation. Why does your family even like her when she is so rude? Does she even know she is ruining your chances with an honourable mate of the clan?”

“Excuse me?” I said, offended that she considered herself already as his mate and disrespected not only me but Neteyam’s choice of a mate.

“You heard me.” She said, eyes fierce, making me want to lash out. “You are just a useless side piece of Neteyam which he occasionally uses to have fun with.” She cackled, before my fist collided with her face.

“Fucking bitch!” I said, my fist slashing across her face again, making her stumble to the ground, crying out.

“Oh, now you want to cry? God you little pathetic whore.” I whispered into her ear, tugging at her hair, hissing at her tears, lashing out of the corners of her eyes.

“Y/N.” Neteyam called out and I was on my feet on instant, fury transporting onto him, hissing as I stomped to him, his face stern as he looked at the situation.

“Stop it.” He said, and I lashed at him, my hand gripping onto his throat, pushing him backwards. He let me, his eyes colliding with mine, as a smirk plastered itself across his face, his eyes dark and deep, making me fight a shiver. His hand came to my face, as he caressed my cheek, his finger drawing along my lip.

“We both know you would win, but she is still a member of our clan.” He whispered, gripping my hand lightly which still clutched around his throat, not hard, but enough to show him I had control over the situation. “And as much as I love to see you fight, babe, use your energy for something else instead.” He said huskily, this time really producing a shiver down my spine. Breathing deeply, I let go of his throat, making him smirk, as I turned back to Liat, who still lay on the ground clutching her face.

“Move.” I commanded, looking at her in pity. “Before I come at you again.”

With a last hiss in her direction, she scrambled away, whimpering as she stumbled before disappearing. Still fuming, I took a deep breath, trying to still my insides. Neteyam’s hand pressed against my lower back, his breath hot along my neck.

“Come on, my fyole, let’s go inside.” He mumbled, drawing smoothing circles along my back, his fingers warm and gentle. I nodded, letting a breath escape my mouth, before going inside the nest with him.

“Well, that was a show.” Lo’ak said, chuckling as we came inside and I glared at him, before breaking slightly, dragging a hand across my face, groaning.

“I’m gonna be in so much trouble when she snitches.” I mumbled and cowered under the heavy gazes of Neytiri and Jake, sighing.

“‘Itetsyìp” Neytiri said, making me look up into her eyes. Her hand caressed my jaw, tapping along my nose, before she pinched my ear, making me yelp out of her reach. She just shook her head, but a small smile was on her lips, as she looked away. I bet I heard her say something like: “Never liked that Liat anyway.”

Jake sighed but said nothing as his hand drove through my hair and I settled between Neteyam and Kiri for food. Neteyam’s foot nudged mine and I smiled as our eyes met.

After dinner, Jake took me back, as Olo'eyktan it was his duty to put me into line. I had expected as much, still it wasn’t pleasant to hear that I needed to apologize to Liat for hitting her. I sighed before nodding my head, recalling what she had said. I wasn’t a stupid side-kick of Neteyam, was I?

Dragging my feet across the nest, I said my goodbyes and headed for our family nest. But I was still fuming inside at the words Liat had said, therefore I made short progress and went into the woods. It was probably not a good idea, time being after eclipse but I couldn’t care less.

Making my way into the forest I kicked the stones around, trying to let my fury out but it didn’t help really much. Clashing my canines together I tried to not let her words get to me, but it was hard, when I had nothing to get my mind of off things. Walking for a while I ended up at one of the little rivers and sat against the nearest tree, watching the water flow along the green ground.

“What’re you doing out here?” Neteyam asked, making me jump from my spot in surprise. I hadn’t heard he had followed.

“Nothing.” I grumbled before sitting back down onto the ground, pressing my back against the hard tree. Neteyam sat next to me, his body pressed up against mine, making me shiver at his warmth, not realizing how cold I was. He noticed of course, as he always did, and his hand came around my waist to bring me onto his lap. I bit my lip as our pelvises made contact, but enjoyed the warmth and comfort.

“Are you still angry because of Liat?” He asked as his hand came around my chin, holding my face in place so I couldn’t look away.

“No.” I lied, looking at him with all the fury that still pulsed in my veins. He knew it was a lie, everyone would. He smirked as his hands came around my thighs, squeezing the flesh underneath his long fingers.

“Use it for something else instead.” He said, letting his hands wander to my ass, cubbing the cheeks. My breath was heavy but I knew Neteyam and I therefore knew what he hinted at. And I was so damn furious, not only with Liat but also with him. Because he was supposed to choose me. So, I decided I would show him what he would miss, if he didn’t.

Straddling Neteyam’s lap, I kissed him hard, our mouth clashing against each other’s, his canines digging into my lip instantly, as if he had been waiting for it, making it bleed. Neteyam sucked on it, making me whine into his mouth, pushing my pelvis against his, rutting along his stiffening erection. Neteyam’s hand around my ass grabbed the flesh as he pressed me against him harder, grinding into me, making both of us groan out in pleasure. Seeing where this was going, my gaze went heady, but I wanted nothing more than this right now. Making him mine.

Flinging my cloth away from my pelvis and breasts I guided his head to my nipples and he sucked on them eagerly, wetting them with his warm mouth, salvia connecting with my skin, making me shiver. His other hand kneaded my breast, taking its weight into his palm, cubbing it roughly. My fingers whisked away his cloth covering his crotch and I gripped his heavy dick in my hand, spreading the pre cum along it’s tip, making Neteyam stiffen under my touch, his head sinking onto my shoulder, hands digging into my flesh as I stroked him hard and fast. But today wasn’t a time for pleasantries and we both knew it. Making sure he was hard enough I lined his dick up with my pussy before gliding onto him, welcoming the burn of the stretch it caused, making me hiss softly. Neteyam’s hands came around my hips, his fingers pressing into my skin, leaving marks as he held me on his cock for a moment, making sure I was comfortable with his size. But I wasn’t having any of it, wanted it to burn and stretch and hurt, as I pushed myself down on his cock, making him whine with pleasure the second I started, his head thrown back, sweat glistening across his chest, as my hands grabbed his shoulders, feeling the flesh tense and move under my touch. Ramming my pelvis against his, I enjoyed his moans for more, letting my fury ebb away into something else. Riding him furiously made me forget what everyone thought and talked by pushing all my frustration and anger into riding him senseless, letting me feel the moment, and just be with Neteyam, having him all to myself and being able to make him whine and writhe under my touch, letting him beg for more. No one else could do that and I took my satisfaction from it as I took his cock deep, my thighs meeting his with slapping movements, the slick sound of sex filling the forest air, body’s rutting against each other’s as I took his cock inside my pussy, as his hands explored my body, twirling my nipples, his fingers dragging a heady muster across my skin.

“Baby.” Neteyam murmured, thrusting his dick up, meeting my thrusts down onto his cock with force, letting him sink into deeper levels of me making me gasp. He smirked, hands grasping my hips, as we fucked each other with deep clashing kisses and forceful thrusts, that left my flesh read and heated. His balls slapped against my pussy but I couldn’t care less as I moved along his shaft, clenching it under my pussy, wanting him to surrender to me, wanting to see him giving in to me and the pleasure I would bring over him. I wanted to win. His whines turned more needy and he stopped my thrusts with a hand on my stomach, pressing down.

“Slow down baby girl. Otherwise, I’m going to cum way to soon.” He mumbled, breathing deeply to get control, but I wanted him to lose it, wanted to see him at my mercy, how he lost every fucking thought to my pussy and the way it felt around him. Slapping his hand away I moved swiftly around his cock, smashing our abdomens together, whilst pressing his body against the tree he leaned, trapping him in between it and my body, crushing down on him with every thrust, every stroke to show him who was in control. He groaned, his face one of pleasure and bliss, as he bit his lip to hide the groans escaping him. But I wanted to hear everything. How good I made him feel and no one else.

“Fucking moan if you like it Neteyam.” I pressed on, making my pussy clench around his cock, milking him inside of me, electing a deep purr from his chest as it heaved against me. “Let me hear how good you can take it.” I mumbled, laying a hand across his throat, squeezing. His eyes shot open, their half-lidded state dark and heavy now, creating a fire between us that was new and exciting. His grunts grew louder as I managed to move faster across his dick, my thighs burning with the muscle work but I couldn’t care less, wanted to see Neteyam tip over the edge and lose himself inside me.

“Come one Tey.” I murmured as my nails dug into his shoulders, making sure he felt every inch of me, taking him so damn good. My body felt hot and heady, my thoughts minimised down to searching the pleasure frizzing through my veins, feeling the blush stretch across my cheeks and boobs, sweat traveling down my spine.

“Give me what I want.” I said, inching him closer to release, as I rammed down onto his cock, sucking him in as he groaned and writhed underneath me, but I held him there, making him lose himself in his own pleasure, showing him how helpless he was.

“Babe, my fyole, please- “he begged and I bit my lip to hide the moan that wanted to escape my throat, as he begged. His hips snatched up to meet my thrust and our eyes locked onto each other’s, each of us powering us higher, pushing more and more, so that the other would come, seek release before the other. I smirked as I felt Neteyam twitch under me, his thighs shaking as he took deep breaths and his thrusts slowed, realising he would come any second. His groans grew louder and I took a final spurt, pushing along his cock, riding him heavy, letting my weight drop fully onto his cock, skin ramming against skin, as his dick glided inside of me without any resistance.

“Come on.” I hissed as I rammed down on him, making him whine and struggle underneath me with desire and the nearing orgasm I needed from him.

“Baby girl, please, I-I can’t- I”

“You can’t what?”

“Please- “he groaned and I felt him twitch again, making me clench around him, hard and long. He groaned loud and I felt himself pulsing inside me, his thrusts stopped completely as I rode him, feeling his white cum spurting inside me, marking me as his and his only. I smiled as I slowed on his cock, thighs burning, breath puffing out of my chest as I watched his face, scrunched shut with pleasure, his throat releasing tiny noises making me needy all over again as his hands dug into my hips with a bruising hold. Kissing along his chest and up his jaw I realised how much I enjoyed having the control over him, showing him I could give him so much bliss and pleasure all on my own, what he would miss when he would choose someone else.

His breathing slowed down as he opened his eyes again, a heady look in them as he kissed me with fierce emotion. It took my breath away as he pulled out of me, before sticking his fingers inside of me, making me whine into the kiss.

“Good Eywa, baby.” He breathed; his gaze held so much possessiveness that it made my heart flutter in my chest. With a swift motion he laid me onto the ground, kneeling over one of my thighs, heavy cock grazing my skin and he hissed softly. His fingers moved inside me, as he pressed his other hand on my abdomen, before he smirked. Biting my lips, my legs twitched underneath him as I felt the steady wave of headiness wash over me, the biting cool of the ground a nice distraction. His fingers moved fast, in and out and I felt myself arching off onto the ground and into his touch, moaning out his name as he let his talented fingers work inside me, digging and pressing and working till I felt warm all over.

“Teyam.” I moaned, heavy breathing escaping my chest as I reached my high and he smirked, pressing down harder against my stomach, making me squeal as his fingers pressed against my sweet spot. My orgasm came and I felt myself gushing out around his fingers, creating a wetness onto the forest ground, leaving it damp. My legs twitched underneath Neteyam as he rode me through my orgasm, before laying his body atop mine, fingers still anchored inside my pulsing pussy. Catching my breath, I laid my arms across Neteyam, breathing him in, dragging my nose along his neck, kissing it softly.

“God baby, you’re amazing.” He mumbled and I laughed lightly, moaning at the friction of his fingers still inside me.

“Better than Liat, I take it?” I asked and face palmed as I noticed how it came out. But it was true. Maybe her words did have an effect on me. Neteyam looked down at me, his eyes open and loving.

“I would’ve always picked you. She never stood a fucking chance.” He said, before connecting our lips together softly, sighing into the contact.

Finding myself nodding into the kiss, I smiled.

“Okay.” I breathed.

“Okay.” He repeated and in that moment, everything was just fine.

#neteyam avatar #neteyam imagine #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam #neteyam fluff #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam smut #smut fanfiction #smut avatar #avatar 2 #avatar way of water #smut

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nsharks · 1 year

Text

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part three —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3.3k tags: death. blood. zombies of course. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn. enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: let's build some relationships :)

From behind a tree, your eyes narrow with concentration as you draw the string of your bow. The feel of it in your hands offers satisfaction; you used to love new makeup, blushes and creams, or sweet custards from the market. Now, you love a good weapon.

Is there anything Ghost doesn’t know how to do? And you thought Paul had skillful hands.

You’re not sure exactly where Ghost and Blue have gone, because after leading you out the gate of their camp, Blue showing you the exact maze of steps needed to avoid their booby traps, they went their own way. Again, they disappeared among the white trees. You were left to pick a direction and stick with it. So you ended up here, the opposite way of the pond, with your eyes finally catching sight of a small deer. A fawn.

It’s young but perfect.

The blood that courses through its limbs switches on the predator part of your brain. It will be enough to keep you fed for at least a week, perhaps more, and promote the healing of the wound that aches with each shift of your waist. You inhale, exhale. The arrow is ready to release.

A single gunshot rings out.

Straight through the fawn’s eye.

It doesn’t even have time to cry out as it falls over, a small thud filling the quiet air. Your heart skips a beat and your eyes flicker in the direction of the gunshot, but you already know who has stolen this kill from you. In the distance, you see his bulky form, the lowering of his rifle, and then you see the girl bounce down from a tree and whirl towards the dead animal.

Are you kidding me?

You want to snarl and sneer. Instead, you flare your nostrils while lowering your bow. Meters away, Blue kneels down by the deer and you see her gently mouth words to its corpse. Perhaps, a childish parting that helps her feel better about its death. Ghost arrives and bends down to Blue’s level, and you can’t see his mouth with the mask on, but you know he is speaking to her by how he gestures his gloved hand around.

You’ll have to find another animal.

Squirrels aren’t your favorite meal. They’re not much compared to the taste of venison. But if you char squirrel meat just enough, it can get a nutty flavor that, with your eyes closed, you can pretend is a juicy slab of chicken home-roasted by your mother.

There is no room to be picky.

There is no room for wants anymore, only needs, and from behind the tree, you move your gaze to spot a grey squirrel that will be enough for the day’s needs. You take aim again. You’d put your washed hair in two French braids to keep the strands from interfering, but without ties, they are starting to come undone at the ends. There was a time when you cared about the fashion of your hair. Now, styling is a tactical choice.

Squirrels are trickier. They are small and require greater marksmanship than you are confident you have. Archery was never something you did until the world bled grey and demanded it of you.

The animal flicks its bushy tail, prancing about over thick tree roots. You wait for the moment it stills.

“How’s it going?” someone says, and you jump back in a step, fingers nearly slipping and releasing the arrow off at the ground.

Blue. You whirl around to see that she’s snuck up in a tree behind you, nimble and light on her feet, with curiosity filling her eyes as she sits perched on a branch, one that would be too high for you to ever climb. Her brown hair is hidden under her hood, the tip of her nose flushed pink from the air, and she rubs her hands together to brush off the crumbs of tree bark. Her movements remind you of the squirrel.

It takes a moment for your muscles to soften. You glance back at the squirrel and it’s already scampered off.

“Going great,” you tell her flatly, sighing through your nose. You can be patient with her. She’s nice, young. She’d snuck you extra food. “Shouldn’t you be with Ghost?”

“I’m just stopping by to tell you that we’re leaving. And—“ she squints her eyes in the distance for a moment, “That there’s a couple of those fucks due south.”

Those fucks.

Lovely. You glance around at the unfamiliar trees. From down here, you don’t see anything, but from her vantage point, her scope of sight is better for scouting threats.

“They’re pretty far off. Just be careful, okay?”

“Thanks. I will,” you nod.

Her bright stare then flickers to your braids. “You did your hair... What are those called again?”

She frowns, searching for the word somewhere in a corner of her young brain. You’re surprised that a ten-year-old girl doesn’t know what French braids are; they’d been all you wore as a kid. But then you realize her normal life came to an end at age five. Perhaps many of the memories have faded, replaced with more useful knowledge that her father has had to stuff in there.

You swallow. “Braids?”

“Braids,” she repeats, tasting the foreign word with a click of her tongue. “Right. They look really cool on you.”

“These ones are pretty shitty because I don’t have anything to keep them in.”

Blue starts to say, "Maybe you could—"

But a gruff call cuts through the trees, beckoning her head to turn.

"Blue. Let's go."

Your own eyes follow the voice and land on Ghost some odd paces away. He is already staring at you through lidded eyes, a palpable energy rolling off his body in waves that you can feel even from this distance. Over his shoulders, he carries the fawn with ease. Large palms clasping the knobby ankles. A steady drip of its blood creates a red stain in the snow beside his boot.

He looks horrific. A smear of crimson on the skull. Dressed in all black, carrying a dead animal as if it is nothing. You recall how he'd pushed you to the ground like you were nothing, too. You swallow the thought.

Before you can even look back at Blue, she's already gone. Whirling down from the branch and running over, following in his footsteps as they head back.

It takes another agonizing hour but you manage to kill a squirrel. The Greys don’t find you, luckily. You stuff your coat pockets with some pine needles and decide to call it a meal, knowing that you will have to hunt again tomorrow.

This area of the forest is still new. In your brain, you’ve already etched some markers to find your way back: the pond where they found you, a circle of pine trees to the right of their camp with a big stump in the center, a small creek past the hill. But the way you return back today leads to you approaching the camp from the backside, and you notice something.

Behind the cabin is something covered in a big black tarp. The tarp is peppered with fallen twigs and snow, but still, you think you make out the shape of a vehicle underneath.

They have a car—?

Irritation finds you. How did Ghost manage such things? A goddamn cabin, a deep trench that you assume he dug all by himself. And now a car. Did he also have petrol stored somewhere? By the looks of it, the tarp hasn’t been moved in a while. What is the car for? Is this what he uses to get medicine from the cities?

You almost scoff as your boots crunch the snow.

You won’t have any of our medicine.

There hasn’t even been a chance to consider how you might fend for some yourself.

For now, you will just focus on food.

Ghost has tied the deer upside down on a branch by the time you are back. You carefully recall the way through their traps. Blue has to unlock the bolted gate for you, but then she runs back to Ghost, who hands a thick blade to her.

“Go on, then, kid.”

“I hate this part,” she mumbles, but he lifts her up so she can reach the knife to the animal’s hind legs, beginning to skin the hide top-down. She wears a concentrated expression as she does so, nose scrunched, and you can tell that skinning deer is a skill her small hands have practiced before.

Ghost is the one to butcher it.

You skin your squirrel.

They use the fireplace for cooking, and of course, their dinner is prepared first. While you wait, you undo your braids and snack on the pine needles. Blue is surprisingly quiet, helping her dad cook a little and playing with Grim on the floor, but also flickering her gaze to you every minute or so.

“Your hair is curly now,” she comments softly during dinner. “From the braids?”

“That happens when you take them out,” you say after swallowing a piece of meat. There’s nothing to wipe your hands on, so you use your trousers as a napkin. Your mother would’ve had a fit.

“Do you…” you clear your throat, glancing at Ghost and then back to the girl. “Do you want me to braid your hair after dinner?”

She nods sheepishly, but Ghost huffs out a low breath. “I could do that for you, Blue.”

“Ghost,” she sighs. “You don’t know how.”

“How hard can it be?”

But Blue licks her lips and shakes her head, mumbling, “I want her to do it. She’s good at it.”

The way Ghost looks at you is rarely anything but uncomfortable. However, when you sit down on the rug with Blue, your hands finding purchase in her hair, his eyes seem to burn holes through your body deeper than any time before. It is as if letting someone touch his daughter physically sickens him, and causes his breathing to turn weighted and deep. He begrudgingly allows it but supervises, sitting on the couch as you begin braiding her hair.

Grim sits in her lap. She strokes his fur.

“You have pretty hair,” you tell her.

Blue softly wonders, “How can hair be pretty?”

“I… I don’t know,” you say. “The color, the length. It’s just pretty, I think.”

“Ghost cuts it for me,” she says, turning to look at him.

“Wait, don’t move. It’ll mess me up.”

“Oh, sorry,” she turns back but continues. “He gets it wet and has me lay my head on the tree stump so it’s all flat. Then, he chops it off with his knife. Right, Ghost?”

His response is a low hum. It’s stiff, pushing through a tense jaw.

You finish the two French braids, running your fingers over them.

"I don't have anything to tie them, but they look really nice on you."

It is then that Ghost stands up and disappears for a minute. When he returns, he has a roll of black thread that you believe he used for your stitches.

With the knife from his belt, he cuts two pieces, bends down, and silently offers them to your palm. Blue lights up. You tie off the braids and she stands, toying with them happily, and asking her dad what he thinks. Finally, you notice his shoulders soften.

"Beautiful," he murmurs quietly, just for her. He strokes the braided hair and then gives a gentle brush of his thumb over her cheek. "Always look beautiful, Baby Blue."

"Don't—" her cheeks flush and she briefly flashes her eyes to you, "Don't call me that."

"Used to call you it all the time,” he grumbles. “Gettin' too old for it, are you?"

What you learn Blue isn't too old for is curling up with him on the couch. This is the first night you stay in the cabin after dinner rather than retreating to your shed, simply because they've left some embers in the fireplace for warmth. You sit on the floor beside it. Blue sits with Ghost and he pulls out a book to read quietly to her.

You try not to look.

It touches you in a way you didn't think it would. It seems so normal. For a moment, you imagine a world where things could be different. A world where Blue wore braids to school every day. A world where Ghost could pick a new book out, rather than read the same ones over and over. A world where, maybe, you could have a family of your own, rather than be an uncomfortable witness to theirs.

But your family is nothing now. You never even knew what happened to your parents. The end arrived when you were away from them. No wifi. No service. Whether they died or turned Grey, you could never be certain. A pit in your gut told you their end happened years ago.

You’re brought out of your daze when Ghost stands from the couch. Blue has fallen asleep. He carries the girl to her room, and you take it as a sign to leave for your place outside.

But before you can open the door, his voice stops you, dropping down to an even lower octave.

“Hold on.”

You turn. “What?”

“We need to talk.”

Despite the warmth from the fireplace, your blood goes icy rigid. You stand there and press your lips. “If this is about the braids, then I won’t do it again. I was just trying to be nice.”

“No. Not that,” and he holds your stare, unwavering, “It’s about your old camp. The other day, you said there were… hoards of ‘em.”

The words roll off his tongue thoughtfully as if this is something that has been mulling over in that brain of his for a while. Thoughts belonging to a skull. A ghost. A father.

Ghost continues gruffly, “Where were you?”

“West of here,” you say. “Jesus, I think, at least. I couldn’t really tell where I was going.”

“How far?”

“Far, but not that far.” Your eyes drift to the floor. “By the forest’s edge.”

“We don’t see that many of them here,” Ghost mutters. This might be the most he’s spoken to you in five days. “Only ever a few at a time. Ten at the most.”

“That’s how it was for us. But more came, and then,” you exhale, “And then there were too many.”

Your eyes close, recalling the frantic manner in which you escaped. The last glimpse of your old life had been the mangled arm of your sister, thick bites cutting down to white bone. In a way, you were glad there were enough of them to kill her.

Your eyes reopen. “We should’ve had an escape plan, something for emergencies. We got too complacent after making it for so long.”

All Ghost says is, “Yeah. You should have.”

And then he is dismissing you with a lazy wave of his hand, turning to give you his back. You scowl, roll your eyes as he is not looking, and leave the cabin. Your spine already aches before you even lay down on the floorboards for the night.

You wonder if Ghost has his own emergency plans; what would have to happen for him to abandon this perfect setup? How would he do it? The memory of the car out back finds you as you drift off. But your sleep that night is haunted by terrible, grey dreams.

It usually is.

Hunting on your own is different than hunting with Paul. There's some learning to do. You have to study the tracks on your own and observe the marks of antlers against the trees. For the first week, you don't get a single deer. Only squirrels. One skinny hare. Ghost and Blue don't go with you; the fawn, rabbits, and stored cans and jars hold them over.

Most evenings are spent braiding Blue's hair. I like the way it feels, she claims. Ghost gets used to it. He still watches from the couch but rather than stiffly staring, he lays down and relaxes, placing a hand over his chest.

The next time they go hunting, Blue's hair is still woven in the French braids when you catch an interesting sight through the cabin's window. She stands on the dining chair to reach Ghost's mask, peeling it off. You can only see the back of his head: brown hair, chopped short.

So there is a human under that thing?

She sets the mask on the table and picks up a clean one. A different one.

When they come out, Ghost with his guns and Blue with her knives, he appears more like a father than a character from a horror film. There is no plastic skull. Instead, a cutout in the fabric reveals the tops of his temples and the strong bridge of his nose. You would never say it, but you prefer this one.

Blue must catch your staring because she tells you, "The other one was starting to smell. I made him change."

"Good call," you quip under your breath.

Again, you go your separate ways. You head for the pond. You think you can hear them somewhere nearby, but ignore it, focusing on the deer prints in the snow. It's hard to tell if they're fresh. It hasn't snowed in two days.

Your footsteps quiet to a halt when you hear light crunching sounds. Another living thing is close by. You take position behind a thick pine, eyes scanning the wooded area and the pond to the right of you. But you know the sound of deer, and you're starting to learn the sound of Blue.

She's scampering towards the pond, just her. You can't see Ghost. As protective as he can be, he allows the girl some length to her leash. Offers bite-sized moments of independence. She's allowed to play in the tree just outside their camp before sundown, but only if he is watching. So you imagine he has let her run off ahead only because he is somewhere nearby.

From the distance, you watch her lurch for a squirrel.

She is quick about it.

Grabs the neck, and holds it up. A quick slice to the jugular. Blood seeps. She frowns, closing her eyes and murmuring something that, in the quietness, you think is along the lines of: I'm sorry. Tried to make it quick for you.

And then she begins to skin it, right then and there.

Young, nimble hands taught to survive.

As she does so, you decide you've seen enough. You have your own food to find.

But as you move from the tree, your eyes drift to find another watcher. A form takes shape behind a distant oak, near the pond. Your heart spikes; a Grey? But no— a Grey would already be running towards her scent. This shape belongs to a human, a withered man with hair that juts out in grey clumps, and crazed eyes pointed right at her.

More so, a revolver pointed.

taglist: @cool-0-n @savagemistresss @morganvoorhees @dinsverdika @cated18 @lolszass @jeswiii @all-good-things-have-an-ending @alternatealt @uvoiid @underatreedrinkingtea @ramadiiiisme @crissteetee67 @lexi-zsy09 @spikespiegell @littlezarp @rebel-soldat @4headkissess @mckenzieriley69 @moxxiestar @palomaxaxaxa @msjaeger

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost #cod #zombie apocolypse au #zombies #call of duty

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k2ntoss · 4 months

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UNTITLED N°1 !! demon dean

(gif from pinterest, credits to the owner)

tw ⭒ minors dni, SMUT, dirty talk, dean x f!reader, did i already said this is demon dean shit???? i am vibrating on another level istg, fingering (f. receiving), sex toys (vibrator), spanking, oral (m. receiving), p in v, public space, unprotected sex, etc.

a/n ⭒ ian i swear i'll hunt you down for giving me ideas EVERY FUCKING DAY and yeah, implicit the fact of the lipgloss stuff i wrote for jason but a bit different here, it's 1 am and i'm going back home from a party so prob no proof read, shhhh

words count ⭒ 2.505 (at this point i don't even dream of doing something short)

dean was changed since the last time you saw him, right before he received the mark of cain and way before he turned into a damn demon, sam and you looked for him for days until you stumbled with him outside of a night club which wasn't the best situation to find the guy who was supposed to be your boyfriend, the one that once treated you like the most important thing on his life and now only thought of you as another one night stand.

and what are you doing at a night club? well, long night and almost no sleep so you decided to take baby for a ride and maybe look for dean and here you are, standing in front of him while you fight the urge to punch him right across the face when you notice the lipstick smudges he has all over his jaw and neck "you're fucking amazing, dean" the sarcasm that drips from your voice seems to amuse him, dean grins at you with arms crossed over his chest as he walks closer "looks like you can't remember you shouldn't take the things that don't belong to you, sweetheart" he ignores your annoyance completely, walking around you with heavy steps almost as if he was a predator and you were a sick little animal to hunt and torture.

"yeah? i couldn't care less, what the hell are you doing here?" right behind the club the parking lot is almost empty, the led lights drawing shades on your bodies and the muffled music being almost completely hushed by your voice "having fun, can't a man have fun with a bunch of pretty girls? or are you getting jealous?" he has always had a smart mouth but this time his words do hurt a little but they also fuel your anger "you're being an ass, dean" words come out as a growl, avoiding his question because he already knows the answer damn well, it doesn't take humanity to understand that she loved the dean she used to know and that this dean only made her remember him but here again, he couldn't care less about your feelings right now.

"and you're being a pain in the ass, darling" he'll reply once he's in front of you, a devilish smirk on his lips at the same time he leans in making your heart rush because even with dean being a demon there was still an ounce of the man you loved and that minimal part of him still wanted you and only you, it was enough for it to take over and make you notice the glimpse of desire he had, a growing need to press his lips on yours and pin you against the impala, the same one that has already been the place for a good amount of the times you've let yourself melt into each other's touch and oh, if the evil side of dean hasn't used those memories to get off to your vulnerable image when you tremble under your lover. the way he stands so close to you, how he looks at your lips and licks his owns makes you shiver, making your lips part before he gives into your dean's needs; his lips are over yours, a bruising kiss as his hands grip your waist roughly, his touch making you moan from the pain his hands inflicted on your flesh.

once he pulled back you were panting and dean was living for that, his hand ran until it was on your neck "i think i have something in mind that you could enjoy, i miss someone misses fucking you dumb..." he whispers while tilting your head up to make you look up at him, green eyes fixed on yours made feel hypnotized until the point you walked to the passenger seat as dean got behind the steering wheel, the sigh making you even more hungry because the way he drove always made things to you. dean made the engine roar, pulling into the road until you both were sure it was safe to start anything. dean leaned to your side, his arm going behind your sit until he was able to reach a small vibrator he had used before with you, one of your road adventures from the past "are you gonna be good for me?" his voice was filled with a hint of what felt like mischief but also that cockiness that was part of him, you knew that maybe this wasn't the best idea, you should be the one driving to take dean back to the bunker but you mind was full of the bunch of memories of your boyfriend's dick deep inside of you and that was enough to make you forget any other responsability for at least a while, it had been a good long time since the last time you had any kind of sexual interaction thanks to him so, why not take the chance? so you nodded at him, lips pressed in a thin line as you waited for his next move.

there's a smirk on dean's face as he drives single handled, twisting the small vibrator between his fingers, dropping it on your thigh while you shift on your seat "sit pretty and spread those pretty legs of yours for me" he orders simply and you obey, legs spread enough for him to reach with his hand, undoing your belt and buttons before he slides two fingers under your clothes, starting to caress you slowly, torturing he plays with your clit circling over it before he pinches it softly making you moan shamelessly "fuck, dean..." you mutter when one of your hands goes to grab his wrist to make him stop when his fingers circle a bit faster "oh, you're being a little killjoy" he taunts with a click of his tongue but he takes his hand off you to grab the toy, turning it on just to slide it until he's able to press it against your sensitive bud, the vibrations making you gasp and hold onto the leather seat "just as slutty as always, aren't you? bet you've been dreaming about being fucked by me a lot lately" words making you moan and buck your hips, your eyes fixed on his movements when dean takes his hand away again, fingers coated on your wetness which he licks while glacing at you, the action only making you squirm in need of his mouth on you "and also as sweet as always, mhm, i could pull over and eat your pussy but i have other things in mind... close your legs, baby, and don't even think you can cum before i say you can."

with your legs closed the vibrator was pressed a little harder on your clit, it makes you sigh and whimper in the five eternal minutes it takes dean to find a good place to pull over, behind a small bar. he opens the door, getting to the back seat and sitting there, legs spread and his arms across the back of the seat "aren't you gonna come here, baby?" he asks teasingly, of course he was asking you to walk yourself out of the car and to the back seat, shaky legs and overstimulated, cursing him on your mind but still growing needier so when you get off the car and open the back door you can't help but bite your lip when dean is there undoing his belt and taking it off slowly with his eyes glued to you "come here and lay on my lap, sweetheart" he takes your hand in his, pulling you in taking advantage of your weak legs to make you lay on his lap, tummy flat over the seat while your hips rest over his legs when he closes the door before his hand stops on your ass, stroking you softly as he started to pull your jeans down slowly exposing your silky panties, chuckling lowly at the sight of the wet spot between your legs where the vibrator was still making you squirm and moan "so fucking wet, mhm? thought you would be harder to break down... such a easy whore" dean's voice is as rough and low as all the times you've found yourself so needy and hot for him, the big difference was that right now he was indeed a big bad wolf about to eat you alive.

every thought was erased of your head as soon as you felt his belt comming down to hit your ass, making you moan as dean's free hand snaked between your thighs to pull off the vibrator "oh, the little girl enjoys being spanked? you have a pretty sick mind, huh, you like being treated as a slut?" another spank falls on your rear, making you squirm and hold back a loud whimper before you nod "i love it... when you treat me like that" you moan, your reaction brings a wide grin to his face as he lets the leather belt fall again on your ass, the red marks of it standing over your skin as a sing of the way it would bruise by the morning, fuel for dean to keep it up until your cheeks were all red, your hips up with your ass on the air and your eyes teary from how much you needed him "god... dean, please" you beg and he growls at your voice.

"down. on your knees" he is quick to command, making you kneel on the floor, sitting all pretty and obedient between his legs as he undoes his jeans, pulling them down with his boxers making your mouth water at how hard his dick was in front of you "open that pretty mouth of yours, i want to fuck your face" the amount of dirty words turning you, leaning in you place your hands on his thighs while your tongue runs over his lenght tasting him and moaning softly at the way dean is looking at you. the growl he lets out when your lips are wrapped around his tip is gutural, his left hand going to grab a handful of your hair while you suck on him, tiny licks on him that leave your lips shiny from his precum "never thought a slut could look as pretty as you, mhm, those lips all pretty and shiny for me" he says in a low and raspy tone before he pulls your head by your hair, pressing his cock between your lips to make you swallow him right before he starts to move you, his hands making you bob your head causing you to gag and choke. your eyes are closed but it doesn't stop a few tears from falling from your eyes while dean pushes his dick into your mouth, throat fucking you between growls and moans of pure pleasure, smirking each time you gag and chuckling when he lets you pull away to breath but it doesn't take you too much until you're again looking to put his dick into your mouth "oh, baby so hungry... a needy whore that loves choking on my cock"

you whine when dean pulls you away from him, his hand grips your hair to bring you back to his lap but this time he makes you sit with your back pressed against his chest "i need to fuck that sweet pussy of yours, sweetheart, wanna see you ride me like a fucktoy" he whispers into your ear before making you lean forward, your ass perfectly pressed against him and a nice view of your hips and waist when he lifts you up and pulls your panties to the side before pushing his dick inside your snug walls in a rough thrust "so damn thight... gonna make you scream, baby" dean growls while his hands hold your waist to urge you to start moving.

at first you're just grinding your hips against his, feeling his dick moving inside of you in a way that made you moan softly but the need building inside your tummy made your movements change into quick and sloppy hops while you held yourself on the front seats, tits bouncing and your ass slapping against his body "that's a good bunny, fucking yourself on my cock like a good slut" a low moan escapes his lips and his hands are sliding under your black top, lifting the fabric until his hands are squeezing your breasts "you know how i love it when you're not wearing anything under your shirts? love this perfect tits of yours" you moan when his fingers are toying with your nipples at the same time he decides to move his hips to meet your movements, making him reach deeper inside of you.

anyone who came out of the bar sober enough could see what was going out inside of the impala, the sight of you bouncing with your eyes closed and mouth open as you moaned loudly enough to be heard if someone came closer to the car, it only turned you on more and it showed in the way your pussy clenched around dean like a vice, his strokes only going faster and harder when your legs started to fail you to keep on bouncing on him "who would have thought you would like to be seen getting fucked like a whore, mhm, you enjoy the way everyone knows you're getting dicked down so good, baby?" and you nod, your moans making it hard for you to speak properly, dean is laughing at you and it's humillating but it also makes you hornier "dean... i need to cum, please" your pleas are met with a hard squeeze on your tits and a hard thrust "really, bunny?" he asks with a smirk, hands back on your waist before he leans in to press a kiss on your back "do it, baby, cum all over my cock" and it takes you nothing, your pussy is squeezing him hard making a dark growl escape him and you're about to ask him to fill you up when dean lifts you, sitting you on his lap " 'm not filling your greedy pussy, love, not like you deserve it" he grunts, his hand around his dick as he strokes himself.

dean growls behind you, he's fisting his cock and moving his hand using your wetness to make his task easier and the lewd sounds make you eager to feel his hot load wherever he wants to put it on you "mhm, want me to cum on your dirty body, slut?" he asks with a smirk as his hand slows down for a bit "yes, please..." you say softly and it's the only thing dean needs before he cums behind you, white streaks painting your back and ass as he bites your shoulder harshly "there you go, huh... such a nasty whore" dean mutters on your neck, kissing your skin and nibbling on it "the best fuck i've had lately"

#mara's thoughts #dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x f!reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #supernatural

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cherienymphe · 10 months

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YES girl spill the ☕️ shatter them hearts I need to consume dark dark Peter!

"She asleep?"

Peter looked up from the paperwork in front of him, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he pushed the contents of it to the back of his mind.

"Yeah. She'll definitely sleep through the night again..."

He couldn't stop the small chuckle that escaped him at that, recalling how your eyes had drooped after your second orgasm of the night. You'd been a whimpering mess, sleep threatening to take you from him before he was able to come.

"Good. If this house wasn't so big, she would've woken Sarah up several times over with all that screaming she used to do," Steve sneered, and Peter closed the folder in front of him. "...and then you'd have no choice but to put her in the basement then."

"You want me to put her down there anytime she doesn't smile," Peter scoffed, standing and shaking his head. "She's not Peggy, you know. You can't tell me how to discipline my girl."

"You're too soft."

It was something Peter had heard before, many times, and not just from Steve.

"Didn't Peggy make a run for it the first two times you let her out of the house?"

He didn't even try to hide the smugness in his tone, and at Steve's sour look, Peter's smile grew.

"Y/N didn't even try...didn't even take another step away from me," he proudly reminded him, making his way to the bar and making a face at the selection. "So, knock my methods all you want, but give it another month, and she won't even want to leave me alone."

"Or she's biding her time."

Steve's tone was teasing, and Peter gave him a look because they both knew that wasn't true. You were a mess, not even knowing which way was up half the time, and Steve knew that you didn't even have the capacity to fake anything. It was something Peter liked about you, how open you were with what you were feeling at all times.

"...or I'm just that good and she won't get enough of me," Peter told him.

Steve sat down with his drink, taking a sip of the brown liquid.

"You already know what I'll always suggest."

How could Peter forget?

The first time Steve fucked Margaret out there for the whole household to see, Peter had hoped that when he finally chose his wife, he'd never have to resort to that. He wasn't knocking Steve's methods. They were effective, after all, but Peggy's love for Steve had bloomed from a place of fear.

Peter didn't want that.

He liked that you looked at him as some sort of shield from the strict blond, like some twisted savior. He could still remember the near breakdown you'd had when Steve had mentioned him going back to work. He'd never been harder in his entire life than he was while hearing you beg him to stay.

Not even when you'd been digging your nails into his back and drawing blood from his skin.

"I'm starting to think you just really want to see Y/N naked," Peter drawled, turning to look at the blond.

Steve didn't respond, a small teasing smile dancing along his lips, and even without that glint in Steve's blue eyes, Peter knew the answer to that accusation.

"I want to see her completely broken down and humiliated...yes. She needs to be put in her place, Peter. Reminded who is actually in charge," he told him, taking another sip. "...and what better way to do that than to strip her down and remind her of what and who she's made for?"

Peter rolled his eyes.

"She wants to behave like a brat? Then tame her like one. She wants to behave like an animal with no home training? Then train her like one," he slowly said. "She needs to understand that she no longer belongs to herself, but you, and the best way to get that through her head is to show her that you can and will do whatever you want with her and she'll have no choice but to take it and accept it."

Steve's lip curled over his teeth.

"No more tantrums, no more crying fits at the table. Just pure obedience."

"Or..." Peter slowly began, walking around the room. "I can make myself her only safe space, her only confidant, to the point where the mere thought of upsetting me will make her feel bad."

His dark eyes met familiar blue ones, and Steve smirked to himself, shaking his head.

"Her friends are dead, she's never seeing her mom again, and I am the only support she has," Peter reminded him. "Why would I scare her into obeying me when I could make it so that she thinks chooses that all on her own?"

He grabbed the rest of Steve's drink, and Steve merely gave him the stink eye for that.

"Come on, big bro. You know how that saying goes..."

Peter downed the rest of it, the corner of his lips curving upwards.

"You catch more flies with honey."

#drabbles

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midnightechoes · 6 months

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Five years ago today, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power premiered on Netflix. I had seen a few preview articles about it, and liked what I saw. Those articles mostly focused on She-Ra’s, Adora’s, Glimmer’s, Bow’s, and Catra’s redesigns, and I thought they were fabulous. I loved Adora’s new red jacket and bouffant hair style. Glimmer’s entire redesign was inspired, and I loved that they made Bow black so we could have more diversity in the main cast.

It was She-Ra’s and Catra’s redesigns that caught my eyes the most, though. They made Catra an actual catgirl, and not just in the anime sense where she's just a cute girl with cat ears and maybe a cat tail. She was a full-on furry. It was a brilliant design choice. Honestly it’s no wonder that so many were instantly drawn to her.

And of course, She-Ra herself. I loved her new look, and her huge ass new Sword of Protection. In fact, I loved it so much that I drew this picture of her before the show even came out:

Then the show came out, and needless to say, I fell in love. And honestly, it changed my life.

I know, I know. That sounds very hyperbolic, and to an extent it is, but in a lot of ways, I’m absolutely serious.

Alright, I have to back up a little. Back when I was in college, and for a few years after, a couple of friends and I tried to make a webcomic called The Devil’s Gate. It was minorly successful but eventually floundered. Then I met some people and we tried to make a video game, which also failed. After those few years, I found myself on my own and trying to rework the concept of my webcomic. Making comics, creating stories, those have always been my dream, and I was desperately trying to figure out a story I could make work, something that I believed in. But it never truly got off the ground. By the end of 2015 I had given up on the comic, realizing that after working on it for years in different forms that I needed to step away from it.

I didn’t really know what to do after that. I was still doing my quick daily doodles, but I wasn’t writing, I wasn’t drawing anything of note. I felt emotionally and physically drained of my creativity. I was honestly getting to the point where I thought it might be time for me to give up on trying to be creative or making things all together.

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power came out on November 13, 2018, but despite looking forward to it, I didn’t actually watch it when it came out. It wasn’t until that weekend that I decided to check it out.

I was instantly hooked. I binged through the entire season in two days, and did plenty of crying and cheering. And then rewatched it immediately. I was in love. I was obsessed. It had been a long time since anything grabbed me like SPOP did. I loved the characters. I loved the colorful, sci-fi-fairy tale world of Etheria. I loved how unapologetically feminine it was. And most of all, I loved how queer it was.

I hadn’t done a ton of shipping before SPOP. I’ve been down bad for harlivy for what feels like my whole life, and I was angry when Mika and HG didn’t get together in Warehouse 13, but more often than not I had just been conditioned not to look for queer things in mainstream culture, and even barely in subculture.

That is to say, when I was smashed in the face with Catradora I was surprised how much I glommed onto it immediately. I was absolutely taken with Adora and Catra and their relationship. Both characters were so relatable, and despite not quite being text (although the subtext was so loud and obvious it might as well have been text), it was impossible to not read their feelings for each other as romantic.

It wasn’t just Catradora, even if that was a lot of it. Spinnerella and Netossa being canon from the start was wonderful. How much Glimmer and Bow screamed “BISEXUAL DISASTERS” from the start was adorable. Scorpia’s crush on Catra was as cute as it was sad in its one-sidedness.

I had never really been in a fandom. That is, yeah I’ve liked things, loved things even, but I never found other people to talk about it at length, never found discords just for that thing, never read or wrote fanfic, barely ever drew fanart.

But, I watched SPOP, and then I watched it again. And then I drew Catra. And then I drew Adora. And then I drew them again. And suddenly I was on AO3, a site I never frequented, reading Catradora fics. And then I had an AO3 account. That December I participated in Catradora Week 2018 (I’d never heard of this kind of thing) and drew two pictures for it and wrote my first fanfic.

By the end of February I had drawn more in the three months since the show had premiered than I had in the previous year. I was working furiously on a long, multi-chapter fanfic, and writing more words than I had in the previous couple of years combined.

I was inspired again.

In the 18 months that SPOP ran for, I drew more than I had in years, I wrote hundreds of thousands of words. I felt so rejuvenated and happy about my creativity and free for the first time in years.

It’s hard to put into words exactly how it felt. I was so close to giving up my art and writing, which honestly, would have been giving up a part of myself. An important part of myself. It’s not overstating that SPOP saved me, or at least my creative spirit.

I also learned about the wonders of being in a fandom and fandom things like fan weeks, big bangs, zines. And I made some wonderful friends that I cherish to this day.

Even as I inevitably moved onto other hyperfixations, my love for She-Ra hasn’t diminished. Plushie Catra and Adora sit next to me on my desk every day. Catradora art still hangs on my wall.

The inspiration that SPOP ignited in me hasn’t died either. It’s carried me through a tremendous level of creativity that I’ve been riding since the premiere. It let me create a ton of fan art for SPOP, and then RWBY and then the Witch From Mercury, and I’ve written a ton of fanfics for RWBY and Supergirl. And perhaps the best, that inspiration has helped me create more OC stuff in the last couple years than I had in a long time.

I owe She-Ra and The Princesses of Power so much. I am so happy that it exists and that it happened when it did. I’ll always cherish it.

And for real, Netflix, SPOP spin-off movies WHEN?!

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misguidedasgardian · 3 months

Text

The Hour of the Wolf (9)

IX. Longing

MASTERLIST

Summary: Your husband is away from you, and you are away from your husband

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, war, death, mentions of killings, genocide and war, threats, allucinations, complications in pregnancy, arranged marriage, SPOILERS for ASOIAF, and Fire & Blood, also, might spoil House of the Dragon, might miss some warnings, this chapter might contain triggering content as its features threats to a pregnant woman, from someone who is supposed to be deceased, ghost much? jeje

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 3,7 k

Notes: I really want to think Northerners are not like they were portrayed in the last seasons of the Got shitshow. I did not check this for errors, I'm so excited to post it jeje sorry

It felt like your baby knew, as soon as Cregan left, you started showing, you had been married to Cregan for more than six moons, but it was complicated to tell which of all those numerous times he bed you did the trick, but the Maester believed you were almost four moons now

Further than you expected

But also, as Cregan left, you felt terribly lonely, especially at night, your treacherous mind would draw sinister figures in the corner of your vision. You had trouble sleeping, only able to do so if there was at least one fire lighten in your room

You didn’t want to feel like this, you really didn’t, you wanted to be relaxed, for your child’s sake

But it was proven really difficult, your tricky eyes would draw shapes of people in corners that were not really there, when you turned too quickly or even in the corner of your eye. You besides dealing with issues of a healing Kingdom, you wanted to keep your mind busy

“Have you seen Vhaelar flying over the city this past week?”, you asked Ser Arryk

“No, your grace”, he informed dutifully, as he was commanded to keep an eye on your dragon

“I want to see her”, you inform him, he looked at your belly doubtfully, but when he looked back into your eyes, and the decision made, he didn’t question you, he just nodded

“I’ll get the dragon keepers and some of the guards to escort you, your grace”, he said and almost ran to fulfill the command

You could feel how nervous they were as you were walking dangerous steps amongst the coast of King’s Landing.

You had put on your riding gear, even though you weren’t sure you were going to actually take a fly, but it is the only “suit”, that allowed you to wear pants without looking strange, and boots so you won’t slip in the rock and hurt yourself

Vhaelar never liked the Pit, and now that it was mainly destroyed, she nested in the cliffs near the castle

You could hear her even before you saw her, you looked back at your escort and they stopped moving to allow you to get close to the huge cavern she rested in

“Vhaelar!”, you called, and you hear her acknowledgement in form of a more soft growl, you placed your hand on your belly excitedly, as you took a torch a dragon keeper offered you and walked inside

The cavern was huge, dark and moist, humid, it hit you like a slap, the smell of hundred of dead animals, burnt, devoured by your huge dragon

it was an issue, before you paid farmers for cattle and the cattle was taken to the Dragon Pit to feed the dragons, but now that Vhaelar roamed freely, it was harder to paid the farmers back for their troubles, but the crown did

Vhaelar’s huge head appeared in front of you

“Rytsas, ñuha dōna riña, emagon ao issare ruaragon?”, [Hello, my sweet girl, have you been hiding here?]

“issa verdagon iā lenton, aōha dārōñe”, [She is nesting, your Grace], muttered a brave Dragonkeeper that followed you inside, you looked back over your shoulder, he was one that knew Vhaelar and how to interact with her, so she didn’t even move a muscle

“verdagon iā lenton?“,[Nesting?], you asked, excitedly, the man nodded, your hand went to your belly, you looked back at your dragon and you found her huge golden eyes looking down at your belly, and then at you

“ñuha dōna riña”, [My sweet girl], you whispered, placing your hand in her snout, and petter her until she purred almost

Your dragon was going to lay a clutch of eggs, or egg, for your baby, they were right, there was a special connection between dragon and rider, you smiled warmly at the very thought. It also wasn’t strange, there was still some dragons in Dragonstone, the Cannibal for example, dragons she can mate with.

This had certainly lightened up your mood for the rest of the day, as your guards were relieved that you decided against taking a short flight.

Vhaelar was to be left alone if she was indeed nesting

It is indeed a wonder she didn’t burn you to a crisp

But now… as soon as you entered the castle, you felt like a dark cloud was on top of you and wouldn’t let go

Cregan had done all he could to make the place nice for you again, there was a few weeks in which he would walk by your side and watch you carefully, everything you looked at and flinch, he would change for something else, all the tapestries and furniture, all of it, he would trade it for others, he even went as far as commissioning paintings from Lys to change the colors of the rooms

But still, it was still an impregnable fortress. Designed to not let anyone in… or out…

You tried to go about your day, but it didn’t take long, as the sun was hiding, for the shadows to start taking shapes.

Oh how you wished Cregan was there with you

You placed your hand in your belly

Cuddling you every night, placing his big hand on your belly like you were doing now, to feel your unborn child

Protecting you, making the shadows go away

You dismissed your ladies as soon as they took out your dress, and you put on your night shirt. You felt skittish about people touching you in your condition, you felt like you were cheating on Cregan somehow, by letting someone else touch your pregnant body.

You got on the bed, and drifted off to sleep strangely quickly

You woke up in the middle of the night, without apparent reason, you didn’t remember what you were dreaming about, but you woke up distraught, relieved that you actually woke up… and even a bit disoriented… and then… when you looked in the corner of the room.

You gasped, a tall figure was there, with his usual pose, hand grasped behind his back, standing up really straight, his long hair combed to perfection, his eyepatch seemingly cutting his face in half, his remaining violet eye looking at you, with malicious intent

Aemond was there, a smirk on his lips.

“Aemond? you are dead”, you whined, your hand on your belly protectively. In a quick movement he unsheathed his dagger hanging from his belt and made the knife dance in his hand

Why him? of all of them, why was he presenting himself in front of you like this? because it's probably a dream, it couldn’t be real, he was dead! He was dead, well, they never found his body but he was dead, Daemon took him out with him in an incredible battle over the God’s Eye

Then you saw it

Dark sister, the sword, hanging from his belt

“You would like me to be, wouldn’t you?”, he asked, his eye then traveled down your body to your small baby bump. He chuckled darkly as he saw your protective stance

“My my, my little bastard having bastards of her own”

“He is not going to be a bastard”, you defended, “I’m married”, he chuckled again

“Oh yes, married and ruling the seven Kingdoms… Would you look at my pretty little bastard niece, how far she’s come”

Your breathing got heavy, you tried to sit on the bed, you did so slowly, your eyes never leaving his form

This couldn’t be real, he wasn’t here, this was some sick nightmare

But why does the hot tear that fell down your cheek felt so real?

“What are you doing here?”, you asked shakily, still, not being able to believe your own eyes, this felt way too real to be a dream, but it had to be, right?

Right?

He was quick on his feet, he had always been and he ran towards you who couldn't get out of bed and grabbed you by the neck, the dagger still on his hands

“Guards!”, you screamed but nobody came to your rescue

“Is of no use”. he mocked, shaking you, you only could grab into his wrist, your other hand still protecting your belly from his anger, “nobody will come to save you. not even your idiotic husband”, he mocked then

“Cregan!”, you cried, as he could hear you, but you had sent him away, thousand miles away

He chuckled darkly

“Nobody is coming”, he threatened, “this feels like just old times, doesn’t it?”, he kept teasing, mocking you, provoking you, he didn’t squeeze, but he had you on a chokehold, you wouldn’t move as he threatened your cheek with his blade, “me, sneaking into your rooms, late at night”

“Fuck you”, you grunted, “nothing ever happened, you just wanted to torment me”, you recalled

“Mhm, just like now”, he purred, he really hasn't changed since the last time you saw him, the dinner? was it? He looked older, perhaps, more tortured

“What do you want?”, you whined

“You dead, me sitting on the Iron Throne, as is my right, bastard”

“They will never take you”

“They took you, didn’t they?”, he mocked, squeezing. You whined, scared not of him, but for your babe, your unborn child

“My baby”, you whined

“Ah, don’t worry, I’ll carve it out and leave it for the Stark to find if it concerns you such”, now you whined and twisted in the bed

“No! my baby, he isn’t at fault!”, you were growing desperate, you looked to the side and found a heavy looking chandelier in the night table by your bed, at arm’s reach, you tried to grab it, making it drop to the floor with a loud “clang”, he then squeezed, tighter, and tighter, until you couldn’t breath, you thrashed and pushed but he wouldn’t let go… and everything went black

You woke up taking a huge breath, like you had been shaken awake

You look at all directions, scared out of your mind

Gods… were you dead?

No… you were still in your room

it had all been a dream, a nightmare more like it

A horrible, gut wrenching nightmare…

Gods, what were you thinking? sending Cregan away like this?

You had been childish, keeping this important information away from your own husband, you couldn’t be like this, he was never going to let you flight up there, but… you wanted to tell him, you missed him, and even though that by your calculations he had been back home for at least a couple of weeks, you really hoped deep down, and in a very selfish way, that he’d return for you, for your unborn child.

You hated yourself for being so weak, so dependent, but… you would not live with yourself if he came back a year from now to an already grown child, his child, which he didn’t know anything about.

So you rose from the bed even before the maids got to you, took a quill to paper, and started writing a heartfelt letter to your husband. Revealing your state, telling him why you hid it from him, and promising, if he so wishes, to go visit him.

After you finished writing it, you took it to the Maester yourself to be send at the earliest convenience

If only you saw the chandelier on the floor before the maids return it to its rightful place

. . .

Cregan took a long breath as he looked down at Winterfell, he smiled brightly, it felt so good to be back home, he spurred his horse on and started galloping, he couldn’t wait no longer, he felt like a little kid

But is his own child he wanted to see

He sent word before his arrival, so it was to no surprise that the entire castle habitants were waiting for him in the courtyard

He was finally home

After a huge march, after a bloody war, after taking the freaking capital, after marrying the Queen of the seven kingdoms, after all of that… he was finally back home

“Our Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North and King Consort to the Queen (Y/N) of House Targaryen, his Grace Cregan, of House Stark”, chanted a soldier and he felt goosebumps in his arms when he heard all those titles

He tried to look solemn, not like a twenty four year old who just got home after two years away, but as soon as he saw them, his family, all the solemnity went away

There, at the long steps that led inside the castle, was his sister, his bastard sister Sara, and by her side, holding her hand, was his son, Rickon. He was… so grown, taller, his face was the one of a boy, not a babe like the last time he saw him, his dark curls… his big grey ghostly eyes just like him… He looked like his mother.

He jumped off his horse and went straight for him

The boy seemed skeptical of him, but he didn’t care and he grabbed him in his arms and hugged him tightly

He was barely a boy of 6 name days

He had him so young and yet… he was his son and heir, his blood

“I missed you my boy”, he whispered against his head

“I missed you papa”, he answered, his voice choked, and still the one of a child

He released him then, and turn to his loving sister

He greeted the rest of them, all of them, he knew every face and every name still, they were his people, and before he could finally enter his home, he looked over the walls of winterfell… The gray wolf on cream and green field was no longer alone. The three headed red dragon with four legs stood by its side.

As he walked amongst the hallways he noticed that everything stood the same, like it had been for the last thousand years and it surely will be for the next 1,000.

The first thing he did was talk to the maester, to see if he had received any ravens from the capital. He couldn’t hide his disappointment, he hadn't had words from you since he left a moon ago.

But to no matter, he was home now, he needed to focus on what he was doing, he couldn’t be with you wishing he was home, and then in his home wishing he was with you. Your beautiful, golden, resented heart probably still ached for his departure, he could understand that, he read you better than you ever believed he did, he was going to give you time and write to you himself.

He called his sister Sara to his private audience room, he needed to get acquainted with everything that happened here since he left

Sara presented himself shortly after, with a silly smile on her face, now, she was his sister, not the Lady Regent of Winterfell

But as he saw her face… he sighed

“Why do I feel you are somewhat disappointed?”, he asked with a mocking tone

“Well, I’m not gonna lie, we wanted to see her”, she said with a smirk

“Her?”, he asked

“Our Dragon Queen”, Sara said with a smile, “and her Snowy dragon”, Cregan chuckled

“I wish she could hear you”

“Is she as beautiful as they say?”, she asked enthusiastically

“She is”

“Is she as strong…?”, she asked then

“She is”, he said then

“Can her dragon burn people to a crisp?”

“She can”

“She is a girl? so amazing!”, she said, “So… how are things… King Consort of the Seven Kingdoms?”, it didn’t take her long to start teasing him

“They are still working on the title, they believe the husband of an acting Queen shouldn’t be named King, but merely Prince, or something else”

“Whatever they call you, you still married the QUEEN!”, she said with her eyes wide and her smile broad. Cregan chuckled

“I did”, he said with a smile.

“Do you miss her?”, she asked then, “Is she coming here?”

“I hope so”, he said with a sad smile, “and I do miss her”

“Auw! my brother is in looove”, she teased

“It’s too early to talk like that”, he said, trying to return to his more authoritative facade

“You are married to the Queen! is actually too late to talk about love”

“We need to discuss what is happening in my Kingdom”, he said then, “I might be the king consort, but… I’m still Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North”, he said with a short smile

“Well… let’s start with the fact we don’t have any more men because after the war they decided to settle in the Riverlands…”

So as soon as he arrived home, he started the long process of audiences and meetings with his lords to attend to the most urgent matters of the North…

So as days turned to weeks, he started to worry, he send a raven to King’s Landing, communicating you of his arrival safely to his home, and asking for your well being

He wanted to see you

Perhaps he was being selfish, but… he requested your presence, perhaps you could take to the skies and visit him, it was not a strange idea, you were his wife, you were a skillful dragon rider who assisted in the war and burnt armadas to the bottom of the narrow sea. And the sunset sea like when you saved him and the rest of your small council

You could easily pay him a visit, right?

So you were expecting his answer, and he was expecting yours, two ravens sent weeks away from each other, but only one was set to arrive at their destination, not the other.

It was a few weeks until Cregan received word back from the you

The letter was vague and distant, claiming you were not going to be able to travel North due to important matters that required your attention

He couldn’t prevent feeling truly disappointed, he wanted to see you

You in turn, thought he had received your letter, and gave no answer but a request for you to travel North, without even acknowledging what it would be the greatest news for your marriage and the future of The Kingdoms, so just answered back that you couldn’t make the journey

You were heartbroken, but understood that maybe he was angry with you, and he had the reason to.

Another moon went by, and another

Cregan was teaching his son how to use the bow, that he had commissioned specially for him, when he received a letter, not from King’s Landing, but from Driftmark

A letter from the Sea Snake himself

Cregan found it amusing, and was truly curious about what Lord Corlys may want

Searching for a way in? most likely

Did he want to propose a union between their houses? Did he have a young girl he wanted to present for his son’s hand?

But Cregan never would have expected the news that came inside that letter

He was livid

Why had Corlys Velaryon written to him, congratulating him for the unborn prince of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne?

Why would he be expressing his concern, chiding him as he was a child, of the dangers of his absence by his wife’s side?

Why was that nosy old bastard expressing his concern for the wellbeing of the royal marriage?

You were pregnant…

… With his child…

… You didn’t tell him…

… He was half the continent away…

What was he thinking? leaving you like this, without making sure you were not with child?

Why didn’t you tell him?

Why did you hide this from him?

You could have known after he left, but the thing is, you didn’t write to tell him…

What were you thinking?

Allowing yourself to be left alone in these circumstances?

He called in Sara immediately

“Make preparations, I need to leave for King’s Landing as soon as possible”

“Did something happen?”, she asked, alarmed

“The Queen is heavy with child, my child, I did not know, I have to be with her by her side…”

“When do you want to leave?”, she asked, concerned

“As soon as possible”

“The preparations will take weeks”

“I’m aware, I will take Rickon with me too”

“Really?”, she asked, concerned, “But Cregan, there must always be a Stark in Winterfell”, he smiled, sliding a large parchment over the table towards her

“It’s going to be you”

It was a decreet, to make her legitimate, signed by you

He was going to return south, to you, and he was going to take his son with him, even though he didn’t think it was going to be a good idea, for his son to be influenced like this, but still, he wanted you to meet him, and if you were not going to come to him, he was going to take his son to you

Perhaps, he didn’t think he was going to be able to leave him again, not after everything, not after missing two years of his short life

Adding to the stress and problems he had at home, now he had to add his unruly wife, who hid her pregnancy from him, and a unruly Lord, who purposefully send him that letter with ill intent, passively revealing against them

Corlys Velaryon was acting with a spoiled child whom his parents paid no attention anymore

What was he to do with him?

What were you going to do with him?

As he looked out the windows of his rooms to the vast valley in front of him, his home, he couldn’t help but release a single tear that fell from his cheek.

He was overwhelmed, now sad, that you mistrusted him so much, you must truly hate him to keep your pregnancy from him

He was now himself divided, South and North, Lordship or Crown, his son or you and his unborn child

A child that was going to be the next Queen or King of the Seven Kingdoms…

and his people needed him too, so much, they were also healing from the war, and losing a great percentage of his male population.

But he then smiled

Oh his child, his unborn child, a baby, made from you and him…

He couldn’t help but giggle a bit

Despite your beautiful, but resentful heart, oh he couldn’t wait to see you all fat for him, because of him, because of your and his child

@lyannesworld @tremendouswolfsaladranch @unlesshouse @mimsie95 @ostricx @amelia262006 @marihoneywk @ahristata @happinessinthebeing @dd122004dd@lyannesworld @aestmilky @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @stargaryenx @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @good-night-starlight @yentroucnagol @beebeechaos @brakingboundaries @duds31 @@persophonekarter @missusnora @aleemendoza2425-blog

#misguidedhour #cregan stark x oc #cregan stark x reader #cregan x reader #cregan stark #cregan #hbo house of the dragon #targaryen!oc #targaryen!reader #house of the dragon #house targaryen #house stark

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irisintheafterglow · 2 months

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(approaching you like the homeless ant meme) enemy frat!suguru pt 3?

LMAOO of course anon my friend if you ask i will provide <3 hope you like it since i've missed writing him :)) please welcome back enemy frat!suguru !!!

cw: down BAD suguru, mentions of sex/hookup culture, swearing, implied fem!reader but they/them pronouns used <3

there must have been something in the air of that garden, since his chest was constricting him more than the droves of sorority girls and frat boys present for the joint philanthropy event.

"holy fuck," he breathes, or at least tries to. his pulse was racing but his legs were frozen in place, all of his attention going toward trying to breathe properly. he swallows thickly and it doesn't help, and his hands feel like they're slowly starting to drip with sweat. all because you had to appear in the doorway.

"aw, is that them? they look beautiful," satoru comments. suguru can only manage a weak mhmm before he turns away, blinking rapidly and exhaling so deeply it sounds like a dying animal. "shit, man. you good?" suguru throws his roommate a shaky thumbs-up, leaning the other hand on the wall and barely able to keep himself upright.

"i don't know what the hell is happening to me," he manages to choke out. "my heart feels like it's about to rip itself from my chest." with a wild-eyed expression, he glances at satoru only to find his best friend smirking, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes. "what the fuck do you look like that for?"

"pull yourself together, suguru. if i had known you would be this affected seeing the love of your life, i would have brought my camera," satoru remarks all too casually, shooting nearby spectators a casual smile. suguru makes a noise of suffering from his throat and satoru thinks he's trying to say 'fuck you.'

"they're not the love of my life," suguru says after several seconds of catching his breath. "they're a fling. a good time."

"have you asked them for sex?" he turns to satoru like he'd just suggested setting your sorority house on fire.

"what the hell? of course not."

"it's not a fling, then."

"how would you know?"

"your flings are only physical, but this is something more than that. plus, you wouldn't be this emotional if they were anything otherwise," satoru points out, and suguru is too flustered to admit that he's right.

"i'm not being emotional," he hisses, pulling the band from his hair and turning it into a neater half-bun. "i just think they're a good time without the sex."

"and i think you're lying to yourself," satoru concludes, giving his delusional friend a pat on the back before disappearing into the crowd. before suguru has the chance to chase him down, you're standing in front of him with two cups of punch in your hands.

"what'd satoru say to make you so distraught?" you ask with a smile, handing him one of the cups. he takes an indulgent sip to avoid answering you immediately, the silence allowing him to slow his thoughts. your sisters, for the time being, were nowhere to be found, so he had at most five minutes of conversation before they whisked you away.

"don't remember, probably somethin' stupid," he lies. you consider him curiously and he prays that he doesn't look like a mess; if you notice something off about him, you thankfully don't comment on it. "you look nice."

"just nice?"

"what else do you want me to say?"

"that we can get the hell out of here whenever i want to leave." he chuckles, gently guiding you out of the walkway and into a quieter corner of the courtyard. your voice softens when other students are well out of earshot, saying, "your face is flushed. what's wrong?"

"it's nothing. don't worry about it," he reassures you, mustering as much courage as he can to not look like an idiot.

"i am gonna worry about it if you don't tell me," you murmur, stepping closer in the darkness. he prays you couldn't hear him gulp from the intoxicating smell of your perfume drawing him in, in, in. "i worry about you more than i'd like to admit."

"tell me more about how much you think about me, sweetheart," he says in a low tone and you scoff, unable to stop the unconscious desire to be as close to suguru as humanly possible.

to the untrained eye, everything about the situation was innocent, an intimate conversation between friends at most. but, if they looked closer, they would see suguru's eyes unable to decide whether to look at your eyes or your lips, or even further down as they rake across your dress. they would see your fingers brush away loose strands of hair and carefully tuck them behind his ear, your fingertips lingering on his skin in a way that makes him feel like he's been set on fire.

in the unlit corner of the school's philanthropic event, suguru realized that satoru was right. everything about you changed him, his mind, and how he viewed the future. all he wanted was to be yours until time stopped moving and space stopped expanding; even then, he knew he would find you in any other lifetime. his only worry was whether you could fathom how eager he was to lose himself in you.

his mind goes blank.

and he leans forward to press his lips against yours.

you inhale sharply, immediately melting into him as his hands find your waist and your arms slide around his neck. he kisses you fervently like the tension in his body finally snapped and his composure went flying out of a window. you taste like minty gum and strawberry lip gloss and all he can think about is giving you more, more, more until you're sick of how much he adores you.

"suguru-" you start when you break away to breathe, looking at him like he was the moon incarnate.

"i can't breathe when i'm not with you," he confesses before you can continue, his voice barely a whisper. he waits for you to protest, to pull away and leave him, but you pull him closer and that's all the permission he needs. "i thought this would be some secret fling where the thrill only comes from the riskiness, but i am totally and deeply in love with you. it's kind of ruining my reputation as the frat house bad boy."

"what do you mean, your reputation? who have you told about me?"

"basically everyone," he answers sheepishly and you laugh, hiding your face in his shoulder. "yeah, sorry. everyone in the boys' house knows about us."

"you couldn't keep your mouth shut about me for one more month?"

"we made that agreement to tell our houses when i was still only one foot in," he argues. "but you kinda pushed me into the love-pool, so..."

"i did no such thing," you counter lightheartedly, kissing the corner of his mouth. "it's your fault for falling head over heels for me."

"i don't think it's just head over heels. i think i'm rolling down a hill, so it's like head over heels over head over heels over-"

"okay, okay," you cut in. "i get it, lover boy. now, shut up and kiss me again before my sisters find us and apprehend you."

"i'll get satoru to be our lawyer. we already have a plan ready-"

"suguru geto," you command.

"fine, fine," he grins before leaning down and kissing you until you're both dizzy.

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#geto x you #geto x reader #geto x y/n #suguru x reader #suguru x you #suguru x y/n #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #suguru fluff #geto fluff #ask iris!

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rrxnjun · 1 year

Text

portrait of a blank slate. huang renjun

pairing: huang renjun x fem! reader genre: college au. fluff, smut, and the tiniest bit of angst. warnings: swearing, alcohol, angry man renjun, very bad dialogue, this is the most un-renjun fic i've ever written, dry humping, a heavy makeout session, unfinished blowjob word count: 5.8k playlist: no specific one this time but i listened to a lot of keshi while writing this, so have this playlist of mine to fit the vibes a/n: inspired by that one tweet describing how someone's art professor met his wife the same exact way, lost the screenshot and also the og post im so sorry!

turns out all it takes to save a life is a bad, bad college party, a few shots and a weird, magical coincidence back in a girl's dorm room.

It’s hard to believe that Huang Renjun is currently finishing up the art portfolio he needs for his summer internship program after procrastinating and angrily stomping at every single bad stroke of his paintbrush for the last few months.

Because he’s not.

He’s looking at the canvas with stern eyes, the smudges on the white linen so messy he could cry just by looking at them, and the more he tries to save the disgrace currently scribbled in front of him, the worse it gets and makes the levels of frustration in him turn into rage and fury, because let’s be honest– what is Renjun’s primary emotion if not anger.

And he tries hard to fix it again, he really does– he sighs heavily while doing so as he takes a smaller brush and tries to paint on a few hairstrokes to the portrait of Frida Kahlo he wants to execute– and in honest reality, it doesn’t even look half as bad as it does in the poor boy’s eyes when he takes a step back after holding in his breath and carefully piercing together the artwork. Maybe if there was someone else in the room– everyone but his annoying roommate Donghyuck, because that fucker always manages to make things even worse– they could talk him out of it, offer some words of consolidation, even, hype him up and tell him that with outsider’s eyes, the canvas looks beautiful and very well put together. But the truth is that there’s no one present right now, not a single soul in what feels like the whole campus right now, that could ease Huang Renjun’s frustration from what seems to be art block, when he throws the paintbrush to the wall (he’ll worry about the stain of acrylic paint later, when he gains consciousness) and puts a fist through the middle of the painting.

If he was a character in a comic book, his hand would go through the canvas and create a quite satisfying hole. He’s a real person, though– a weak one as well, to be quite honest– and his fist is stopped by the stretched-out fabric, making his hand bounce back, but now stained with all shades of brown and tan, which somehow only makes him even more mad and turns him into a furious animal roaming around free and causing uttermost chaos in his all true sense.

Nothing can stop Huang Renjun when he opens the drawer he keeps all his artwork in, taking out all the graphite sketches and colored pencil drawings, and then the next one containing the watercolor paintings and various other acrylic paintings done on expensive sheets of paper, stacking all of those onto one pile in the middle of the table. Not one thing is safe– except from the digital artworks he keeps in his iPad and his big A4 sketchbook he forgot about in the heat of the moment, since he keeps it on his nightstand– when he takes the big, heavy stack of art and runs, chimes towards the entrance of his and Donghyuck’s miniature dorm room, luck only standing by his side once in this whole evening when his said roommate opens the door and clears the way for him, looking at the poor boy with mouth agape in a slight shock.

“What the fuck are you doing right n–”

Donghyuck doesn’t get an answer. When he asks stupid questions, Renjun doesn’t tend to pay him much mind, settling on not engaging with the discourse if it doesn’t make much sense, so Hyuck should be used to the ignorance– he thinks this was a very valid question to ask at this moment, though. If he was curious enough, he’d even follow his roommate down the hall and watch him in his endeavors only to find out what’s the intention behind his angry stomping and the fierce look on his face. The truth is, though, he doesn’t care all that much.

That doesn’t stop Huang Renjun, though, as he chimes down the hall of the boy’s dormitory, kicks the glass door open (thankfully not the actual glass part, because that would for sure be expensive) and practically runs the rest of the way towards the bins at the end of the street, dumping the papers into the bin (forgive him for not recycling in his current state of mind) before he angrily kicks the poor object twice for good measure and turns on his heel, slowly, but still as angrily making his way back to his dorm room by stomping all the way up until the entrance.

The dorm guard doesn’t even ask for his dorm ID like he usually does– Renjun must have been quite memorable as he ran out of the building with 5kg of artwork of various sizes in his arms– but the truth is, the man isn’t as old and he saw the boy going out just a few minutes ago, so he doesn’t think it’s necessary. Renjun would appreciate the memo, although, when he remembers that the man always asks for the dorm ID, especially on the nights out when he comes back slightly intoxicated and too disoriented to look for the little slip of paper in his pockets, and on the nights when he forgets his dorm ID as well– the man was set on letting him sleep on the front porch of the dormitory once and it took Renjun 15 calls to get ahold of a sleeping Donghyuck and another 15 of him walking down the hall in slippers and pajama bottoms with his roommate’s dorm ID in hand before he could warm his bones from the cold slowly seeping into his bones on the January night– and that whole thing makes Renjun somehow even more angry at the whole situation.

And so when he comes into his room again, Donghyuck now sitting on his bed still in his outside clothes (something Renjun hates and would murder for), and his eyes land on the damaged canvas still waiting for him in the corner of the room, he wastes no time in opening his window and throwing it down from the second floor, not really caring where it ends up or if he’s gonna get a fine for violating one of the dormitory rules– to never throw stuff out of the windows..

“Dude, what is–”

“Don’t ask.” Renjun huffs as he closes the door and peels his clothes off, taking a towel that’s still hanging from the top bunk of their bed and aims towards the bathroom door. A true tantrum can only end in a cold shower, and that’s what Renjun’s gonna do as he washes his dreams down the drain and ends up silently crying himself to sleep tonight in agony.

It’s hard to believe Huang Renjun is currently at the best college party since the days of ‘megaparties’ of Johnny Suh, the senior that’s slowly halting his party performance due to stilling in life. Renjun was dragged to Lee Jeno’s party by his roommate Donghyuck after he mourned in his bed for approximately two days before it got too much for the poor gemini, promising and honestly thinking that alcohol is truly the best solution for the poor boy’s misery. Again, it’s hard to believe Huang Renjun is currently at the best college party of the year when he listens to the loud EDM music piercing through his eardrums and he swears he catches a glimpse of a couple dry humping on the couch.

Because he’s not.

He’s at a college party, sure. He’s also getting some alcohol into his system– because why not, am I right? He’s not the one paying, and that’s always enough of a reason to drink. Is it the best college party he’s ever experienced, though? Absolutely not.

It’s quite literally the worst party he’s ever been to. The music is too loud and the whole house smells of cheap vodka, people are pushing each other around and with the amount of alcohol in his system, the whole room feels like he’s on a boat, his stomach weak and his eyes hazy. Renjun must admit Hyuck’s therapy skills are kind of paying off– because at least now he’s not thinking about the wasted opportunity of a summer scholarship and is instead looking into the eyes of his cute classmate from History class across the room– but at the same time, he’s not thinking much of anything in this moment, and the glint of your eyes is the only thing he can focus on when you get closer.

That might be a good or a bad thing– depends on how the encounter goes. There’s a fine line between the amount of alcohol that’s just perfect for Huang Renjun to get rid of his usual shyness and speak to other, much more attractive human species, and the amount of alcohol that’s just perfect for Huang Renjun to black out and puke on the floor, efficiently making it impossible for him to chat up the cute classmate he’s been eyeing the whole semester and ruining his chances of ever being seen in a good light in front of the said person ever again. He prays intensely that he hasn’t crossed the line yet when you open your mouth and speak to him in the crowded kitchen.

“Renjun!”

“Y/N!” he tries to mimic your tone, a flashy grin settling onto his face when you approach him first. You two aren’t strangers, after all– you’ve sat together in class during various exams and also accidentally bumped into each other in the cafeteria, but what were your courageous attempts in making conversation with him and efficiently trying to make him more interested in you didn’t lead to your desired goal of getting invited out by him, instead leading him to think you’re just that friendly to everyone and not just him, making the chances of him taking the next step that much slimmer. Not tonight, though– he really must have had too much to drink.

“How are you?” you ask, clearing your throat as you bump into someone and decide to shift closer to Renjun, making the boy’s breathing hitch in his throat.

“Wonderful,” he gasps, and for some reason, the response laced in irony makes an excited laugh escape your throat, and the more he listens to your bubbly giggle, the more he wishes he did music instead of fine arts, because maybe if he was competent enough, he could mimic the sound in one of his songs and replay it over and over even when you’re not around.

“That sounds very genuine,” you note, which makes the boy laugh in return, making him wonder if maybe he could have the same effect on you– if you’re smiling wider now because of the sound of his laughter, or if you’re just amused at something completely else.

It’s pathetic, really– the gloomy boy that was trailing to this party behind his roommate Donghyuck is nowhere to be seen now, instead replaced by the cheap imitation of a ray of sunshine that you brought out of him only with the magic of a few words and the few drops of alcohol on his tongue.

“Oh, trust me, it was genuine,” he teases, and you only nod to his attempt at masking his obviously saddened composure from before.

“Having a rough week?” you ask, and you sound truly interested– something Renjun hasn’t found in the tone of his roommate when he insisted on dragging him here– and maybe that’s the reason why he just shrugs and decides to come clean and be honest with you. You seem like that kind of person that wouldn’t make fun of his troubles, the kind of person that would genuinely want to help– although he’s not seeking counseling tonight, he figures he can talk a bit about his shitty mood if it means that it gets the conversation flowing.

“A rough life, actually,” he snickers before he sees you eye him with a concerned look, “just joking,” he adds before he retracks back and fixes his initial answer. “Some things didn’t work out the way I wanted them to, so I’m kind of moping around for a bit.”

You seem to feel empathetic towards the boy, nodding and pouting at his confession. “Well, I hope things get fixed for you, Jun,” you mumble, tone of voice encouraging– and maybe he could dwell at the caring nature of you a little longer, only if it wasn’t for your use of a nickname for him that just oh so sweetly rolls of your tongue and Renjun wishes he could legally change his name to the nickname so he could listen to the way it sounds forever– scratch that, to the way it sounds from your mouth forever, which means he won’t change it, just so it’s reserved for you and only you to say.

“What about you, though?” he finds himself asking in the midst of his inner screeching.

“Me? I’m great, totally fine, having the time of my life,” you emphasize, the over-the-top expression on your face making the boy burst into laughter as you wave your arms around as if to show him your surroundings. “I am a party person for sure, you know, so this is perfect,” you joke, and Renjun seems to get the memo. If he’s being honest, he’s not sure he’s ever seen you at a party before– not that he goes to many himself, which might honestly be the reason, actually– you could just be at different parties in different times that hadn’t overlaid, but by the way you’re currently tensely sipping at the alcohol in your hand, he figures you’re not too familiar with the scene of college partying.

“Who forced you to go? Was it your roommate?” Renjun remembers the girl from another one of his classes– you two were always walking around together and often got to class at the same time. Figuring out that you two lived together wasn’t as difficult, and she surely seems to be the more extroverted one.

“No, actually,” you say, eyes glimmering when he seems to remember the girl you share a room with, “to my surprise, honestly. It was another one of my friends– Na Jaemin, not sure if you know him– but the moment we got here, he disappeared and left me alone to deal with my thoughts,” you click your tongue and Renjun finds himself totally mesmerized with you– amazed with everything about you; the way you talk, the way you lean on the counter and watch him with stars in your eyes (which might just be the reflections of the kitchen lights, but don’t tell him that), the way you slightly lean into him when he cracks a joke and earns a laugh out of you…

“They always do that,” Renjun scowls, “they drag the introvert in and then force them to survive on their own…” he shakes his head in disappointment, clearly distraught over the situation.

“Exactly! But if you ask them to come with you to a picnic, or to the library, they decline the offer. So much for being good friends,” you roll your eyes. Renjun finds himself smiling, and although he must admit that as every other college student, he himself would decline an invitation to a library if anyone asked, he’s like 99% certain that if it was you uttering out the question, he wouldn’t miss a heartbeat before joyfully jogging there with you.

“Ask me next time,” he blurts out, a poor attempt at flirting, “I wouldn’t say no.”

And it seems like tonight is the night where you suddenly get the last kick of courage needed when you talk to Renjun– maybe fueled by his coy smile when he said the previous comment, maybe just acting out on pure hormones– tonight's the night where he breathlessly takes your offer, still not thinking much of it, but igniting a curious spark in his own heart nonetheless, when you scratch the back of your neck in the last residue of anxiety, scrunching your nose at him and mumbling under your nose, barely heard above the loud music resonating through the living room. “Do you wanna sneak into my dorm room, then?”

Renjun almost chokes at your question– visitors in the dormitory are only allowed until midnight and as far as he’s aware, the clock is well after 2 AM right now, and he’s a male visitor, which is even more off the bounds in the eyes of the fierce woman guarding the entrance of the girl’s dormitory building. The more he stares at you, the more you seem to translate his silence into disagreement, which you panically try to undo with even more rambling. “I- I mean, since we both kind of hate this party and I think that if I drink more, I’m going to puke all over myself, so… My room is on the ground floor, so you can just climb in, if you wanted to. My roommate went home for the weekend, so there’s no one there, and we could– I mean, we don’t have to, honestly, but it’s kinda cold out and I thought we could both use a place more silent, ‘cause I really wanna head back now, but I don’t want to stop talking to you, y’know, and I don’t know if–”

“Okay, I’m down,” Renjun nods, efficiently shutting up your rambling, and when there’s a very apparent relief flashing over your face, he finds himself smiling in endearance at your antics, going as far as ruffling a hand through your hair in whatever kick the alcohol mixed with adrenaline gave him before you have him dragging his feet out of the house, both of your feet shuffling towards the campus.

The walk isn’t long, but he finds himself enjoying it. The condensation coming out of your mouths at the chilly weather serves more to the atmosphere when the both of you giggle out at absurd jokes and gossip, your voice breaking into soft hums when you sing a song under your breath in moments of silence that somehow feel both kind of awkward, but also kind of pleasant. He drags you by your hand to the other side of the sidewalk when a car passes by and you jump in surprise, eyes wide and glossy, mouth a little agape in an open-mouthed grin when his fingers stay intertwined with yours and you adjust your purse on your other shoulder, clearing your throat before you try to nonchalantly continue on with the conversation.

“I’ll go inside now,” you announce when you get to the girl’s dormitory building, breaking apart from the eager boy and coming closer to him when you confide the secret, “I’ll turn the light on in my room when I get there, so make sure to look out for the window. I’ll help you in, don’t worry,” you smile at him, and before he has a chance to reply, you disappear behind the glass door with a pep in your step.

Renjun finds himself sighing– now is the moment when he should realistically get relief, the moment when he’s supposed to relax for at least a second and prepare himself for whatever might happen in your dorm room– but when he slowly walks over to the left wing of the building and squints at the dark squares of windows, he wonders how in the hell he’s gonna climb in. Escaping out will be an easy task– the windows aren’t that high up– but coming in will be the problem. He guesses it’s the same with the whole situation– he bets the easiest part of the whole evening will be jumping out and running to his own room– how to survive the night in your presence and not go completely insane, he doesn’t know and wishes he had a manual to before he agreed to do this in the first place.

When the light goes on in one of the rooms and you wave at him from the inside, he finds himself involuntarily jogging towards the window, gears in his brain turning faster than the speed of light when he reaches the wall and you grin at him, opening the window and offering him your hand.

“If you grip the edge of the window and give me your hand, you can get in easily,” you say, watching as the boy cautiously looks around himself and scratches the back of his neck, mentally calculating his next movements.

“Have you done this before?”

“No,” you bashfully shake your head, “but my roommate did it twice, so I don’t think it’s that hard,” you note and nod at him, waiting for him to finally take action.

Renjun finds himself doing what he’s been told– and even though he huffs and almost falls over to his back (which would kill him, he thinks, since his physique is very close to a turtle’s), victory fills his veins when one of his legs finally ends up in your window, his body stumbling forward and almost toppling you over when the warmth of your room welcomes him as he lands on top of your desk.

“Welcome,” you laugh at him when he shakes his head in disbelief and takes off his coat, dropping it on top of the wooden table and watching you close the window behind him, so the cold doesn’t get in.

“That’s one way of inviting guests over, I guess,” he teases you, watching as you roll your eyes at him and go over to one of the beds. Renjun notices the room is different to the one he shares with Donghyuck– you and your roommate have two beds instead of a bunk one, the table is right under the window and you get a little more space over-all. You turn on the little lamp kept on your bedside table, and the boy watches you with interest as you cautiously walk around your own room as if it’s your first time seeing it, reminding him a little of a deer in the headlights, clueless and suddenly out of ideas.

Renjun finds himself laughing at your behavior– he finds himself endeared by it, the way you play with your fingers in nerves and try to think of anything to do in the intimacy that suddenly envelopes you when you invite someone over to your dorm room in the middle of the night– and when you aimlessly end up standing in front of him, your big eyes even bigger and glossier than before, he snickers at the state of you and shakes his head.

“Okay, so I know I was the one who invited you over, but now I’m kind of helpless in what we should actually do and all…” you giggle, a little embarrassed when you bear your eyes into his, your body subconsciously slotted in between his legs, his position leaning on the edge of the table allowing you and inviting you to do so.

“You’re cute,” he laughs at you, and before you have a chance to question him about the compliment, he has you silenced abruptly by his next actions.

“What do you–”

His hand is gripping your jaw and he leans into you, the newly found courage and affection towards you having him drunk on more than the alcohol, but also your whole presence– the way your hair smells when he’s this close to you, the way you pull the sleeves of your sweater further down when you don’t know what to do with your hands, the shyness in your gaze now that you have him in your cage– and his lips act on themselves when they press themselves against yours, soft but firm, tasting the strawberry juice mixed with vodka off your mouth, a surprised gasp against his lips more than enough to invite him even further in.

He feels your fingers tugging at his shirt and your skin growing hot under his touch, leaning back from you a little and finding you looking at him with a thousand different galaxies in your eyes, enough of a confirmation to him, but he’s a man– he still needs it vocally, when he grins lazily at you. “Was this one of the things you thought about when you invited me over?”

“Maybe…” you tug at your bottom lip with your teeth, a clearly battled grin trying to settle its way onto your lips.

“You should’ve just said so, then,” he smiles when he leans into you again, a little more confidently this time and kisses you again, again and again.

You stay under the window for a while, lips pressed hard against each other as you try to learn the curves of each other’s mouths by memory, lazy hands threaded into his hair and an arm around your waist now, steadying you in place. Foreheads pressed against each other when you break away for air, giggles resonating through the room when his lips make their way towards your neck and the softness of his hair tickles your skin, fingers threaded when you tug him towards your bed and you watch him kick his shoes off before you follow him onto the soft mattress.

His head falls into your pillow and you straddle his lap, your hair falling into your face when you look down at him from your position, the newly found dominance in your position charging you with unexplainable energy, and Renjun can’t help but smile at you sweetly when your eyes meet and you eagerly lean down towards him, fingers once again intertwined with his, hands laying next to his head. Your breath fans his swollen lips that you once again find yourself attacking, the contact overwhelming you and making it hard to breathe. Who knows how long the both of you have wanted to do this but never had the courage to– it’s a miracle that it’s even happening tonight.

And with the built-up desire, you act instinctively– hands breaking away from his when you grip his cheeks and give him one last peck, lips now traveling down his jaw and neck instead, having the boy shivering under the contact, your actions slowly but surely driving him crazy when you find his sweet spot and you get a satisfied gasp from him, a reward for your tonight’s efforts.

His hand grips your hip, and something about the burn of his fingers even through the fabric of your jeans makes you move on instinct, earning yourself a sharper hiss this time that doesn’t make you stop, however– quite the opposite, actually– as you break into a wide grin at the very evident effect you have on him, your movements slow and painful, but still having him harden under you.

Goosebumps appear all over your skin when his cold fingers capture the skin of your stomach when he aimlessly tries to find a place in your body to ground yourself, but the more he answers to your movements, the more encouraged you get. He tugs you back down so you’re facing him, which does nothing to halt your painful pace as he drags out yet another kiss from you.

“If we don’t stop now, it’s gonna be really hard for me to do so later,” Renjun huffs into your ear, which only gets you more excited.

“Who said I want to stop?” you ask him, fingers trailing up his side over his shirt, yet still making him fire up and flush in his cheeks. “Do you want to stop?”

“Do I look like I wanna stop?” he snickers, shaking his head in utter disbelief, hand traveling dangerously close to the cup of your breast.

“Let’s continue, then,” you muse, peeling yourself off him only the slightest amount, hands dragging themselves down his body until you reach the waistband of his pants, gently dragging the fabric down until he’s left in front of you only with a tent in his underwear, big eyes curiously and breathlessly watching you in your actions. He could be a gentleman and tell you you don’t have to, tell you to stop and come back up and that he will pleasure you first, but the more he watches you as you palm him over the thin fabric of his boxer briefs with the dangerous doe eyes of yours, the less he wants to do just that. In all reality– who is he to deny a blowjob from you? Or anyone, for that matter?

His whole body shudders under your touch, actions careful, but so painfully satisfying. Renjun watches your face with his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, the reality of it all sobering him up and making him aware of each shift of your body, each centimeter your fingertip travels against his skin, each motion that slowly makes a bundle of nerves appear in his stomach. It only gets too much for him when you lean on your elbows, nails gently pricking the skin of his thighs as your mouth hesitantly greets his dick, and he feels like a virgin again when his eyes peel off you just in case he finishes just by watching you blowing him off like a highschooler at his first blowjob, forcing himself to watch the ceiling instead.

Eyes traveling all over your room– the closed window opposite of him, the bed on the other side of the room, the walls above your bed– he gets lost in the galaxy drawn on a piece of paper that’s plastered right above your pillowcase, and another graphite sketch of eyes bearing right into your soul, as if they were watching him in the act, and another one, of a deer that looks through the shade of the trees, before it hits him.

“Oh my god what the fuck–” he gasps, and his tone must have sounded too different to the satisfied moans that have been spilling out of his mouth up until now, because you abruptly stop your movements and your gazes lock, your eyes completely mortified.

“Am I doing something wrong?”

“Oh– Oh god no, fuck, you’re doing amazing, trust me,” apologies spill off his tongue at your distressed state, “it’s just– where… where did you get these?” he asks, pointing towards all the drawings taped all over your walls that he failed to notice in the heat of the moment before.

“Oh,” you cluelessly hum, eyebrows furrowed, “I found them spilling out of a trashcan close to the boy’s dorms when I was walking to class one morning, and they were so pretty I had to take them.”

“I– you like these?” Renjun asks, full of strange surprise and genuine curiosity. You’re now sitting back on your heels and looking at the boy with big eyes, still slightly clueless and very much in a weird state of distress– because why would a man ask you about the random artwork on your wall in the middle of a mindblowing blowjob?– before you nod with a slight pout, agreeing.

“Well, I wouldn’t have decorated my room with them if I didn’t like them, y’know… Why are you… why are you asking?”

“Oh,” Renjun repeats again, a dumbfounded look taking over his soft features before he sits up on the bed and scoots closer to you, a weird sense of euphoria spilling out every vein of his body when the held-back dopamine is released into his system. A wide grin appears on his lips before he stares into your eyes with a milky way mirroring behind his eyeballs, glittering orbs haphazardly gliding over your face before he reaches your lips again, pecking them one, two, three times before you break away and look at him with furrowed eyebrows, a slight crease right in between them.

“What are you–”

“I think I’m gonna literally cum just at hearing those words, Y/N,” he blurbs out before he kisses the tip of your nose again, completely endeared and close to a happy boy under the Christmas tree, and while you may enjoy that look on him, you’re still slightly confused. Huang Renjun sighs almost a little too dreamingly and smooths the wrinkle between your eyebrows with a careful swipe of his thumb, still not giving you any explanation.

“Renjun, I’m afraid I’m not quite following why this is so important to you right now,” you mumble, having your partner laugh airly– just as if all his worries escaped through the window and you fixed his life with a few drawings plastered on your wall.

“Those, dear Y/N,” he points towards the papers stuck to your walls, eyeing the specific one he worked for 3 hours on and kind of mourned the morning after he realized he threw it away, months of practice and art that maybe wasn’t even that bad in the first place ending up in the trash because of a fit of rage, “are all mine. Mine as in, I drew them… And then threw them out in the middle of a slight mental breakdown.”

You look at him for a few heartbeats, eye contact never breaking before you avert your gaze towards the artwork on the walls– it takes you a few seconds before it hits you– and you gasp, hurriedly looking back at the artist in front of you, stars glimmering in your eyes now as well, matching his excitement. “Oh my god, are you for real?”

“Yeah.”

“You drew all of these?”

“Yeah,” he nods again, breathless.

“This is an insane coincidence,” you snicker, and Renjun didn’t know he had it in him– maybe it’s still the effect of alcohol that slips off his tongue when he speaks– but he cages you in his arms as he kisses you again, a whole new world appearing in front of him when the cheesiness meets the comfort of your walls.

“You’d call this a coincidence?” he hums. “Maybe it was fate.”

Earning himself a sharp laugh, almost mocking him as you swat his shoulder, you fall back with him towards the mattress, and while the heated moment might be gone, you don’t mind at all. Renjun looks at you with a certain softness in his eyes, a pride swelling in his chest, and for a moment, it’s true and you truly did open up a new reality for him and changed his life forever, fixed all of his problems, if you will, because the appreciation it takes for a girl to tape up at least 20 of his messy artworks onto her wall after finding the stash in the trashcan on her way to class might just be the encouragement he needed to keep going with the craft.

It’s hard to believe that this shitty party actually brought him somewhere– not only to your bed, but also to your life, to a beginning of something new and a restart in something he thought he’d forever be giving up on.

“So… Do you need those back? Because I kinda like them here,” you giggle, and the crinkle of his eyes is enough of an answer to you.

“You can keep them. I’ll just draw new ones you can look at,” he muses, stealing another kiss from you and squeezing your hip, having you squeal against his mouth.

“Now, to get back to what we were doing before–”

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