#this isn't even an enemies to lovers set up they're just like that | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nsharks · 5 months ago

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bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part twenty-three —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 4k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. 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: ily

In a split second, the ground seems to open up and you sink down, down, down into a memory brimming with death. Stark white snow surrounds you, soaked with blood beneath your feet. You hear the screams of your sister and Paul. A wall of grey descends over them. There are many, too many. All you can do is—

"Fucking run! Come on, before they smell us!"

Kyle tugs your arm and rips you back to the present. You trap the terror, throw the bow on your back, and sprint. Which way did you even come from? The meadow feels bigger than before. He seems to know so you follow him, fighting through head-high rue.

It doesn't seem like the Greys have taken notice to you yet given the absence of hungered screeches, but you can hear the uneven footsteps continuing behind you. You try to look back at them, but all you can make out through the plants are flashes of grey and green and amber sunlight. You don't slow down. You need to increase the gap so they can't get close enough to scent you.

"She's right over there," Kyle urges.

The tall grasses turn into pine needle covered ground. You make it back to Cherry, who must notice the shift in the air as she whinnies against the rope. Kyle slinks his rifle on his back, unties her with nimble fingers, and without warning, grabs you by the waist and tosses you onto the saddle. You grip her mane to steady yourself. He swings a leg over behind you, then thrashes the reins. She breaks into a gallop, weaving through the trees.

You look back again once she's gained some distance. They have trampled through the meadow, consuming it, and you realize with a sinking pit that without a horse, you wouldn't have been quick enough to get away. From this height, you can now see just how far back the crowd extends, to the point that they swallow the horizon.

If they continue this way, they'll reach the camp.

A barbed fence and trench won't stop them.

You look back ahead of you, the forest passing as a blur in your peripherals.

"We have to get back and tell them. There's too many," you speak into the whipping breeze. "There is no month."

He tightens an arm around your middle and mutters gravely in your ear. "No, there isn't."

It feels like hours before you make it back, though the sun has yet to fully set. Blood orange streaks the sky. They must be preparing dinner. No one is outside. Cherry slides to a halt in front of the trench and Kyle helps you down with a firm hold, as if he is worried you'll be unsteady, but you brush his hand off and race inside.

You enter with such urgency that all eyes snap to you. Ghost is crouched in front of the fireplace. Price and Nereida are curled on the couch, legs entangled, as he strokes her long, black hair. Blue and Ari are looking through a magazine splayed on the table.

"Greys," you announce, looking around. You land on dark eyes that widen as they take you in. "They're here. They're coming."

"We saw them by the hundreds about 20 kilometers south. Too many for us to handle. We have to move, Price," Kyle says.

Ghost rises. You close the distance and stare up at him with unwavering conviction, ignoring the nausea that has been churning in your gut since the moment you witnessed them.

"Ghost, we're not fucking around. I saw them. A horde. Bigger than the one that destroyed my camp. We have to get out of here. We don't have the time to wait around until they—"

"I heard you." His eyes sweep over the length of you. "You're alright?"

"Yes," you dismiss quickly. "They didn't get to us. But if we didn't have Cherry..."

You trail off.

Price stands. "20 kilometers, Simon. They can close that distance in a matter of hours. We move now."

You see a war dance in Ghost's eyes as he releases your shoulder and nods firmly at his old captain. The stiffness in his shoulders and the hard set of his jaw show his realization that the battle he’s been fighting to grapple for more time is unwinnable.

"Dad?" Blue's voice is small from the table.

He looks at her. "Kid, go get your things. Everything I've told you to bring if we ever had to leave."

"Where—where are we going?"

Price answers. "We start with moving a safe distance away. South, past Loughborough, like I showed you, Simon. Get your map. Gather everything we talked about. Only the necessities that we can fit in the truck."

Then, everyone moves.

A pot abandoned over the crackling embers.

The magazine left on the table.

You rummage for your things.

Ghost throws a military-grade backpack at you.

"Use this."

You fight trembling fingers to unzip it. You don't own much. Even after cramming all your vials and pill bottles, gauze, knives, and clothes in it, there's space. He fills the rest with food from the pantry. Canned beans, fish, soup, peanut butter. A few packages with bold letters: MRE. Military ready-to-eats.

Minutes race, and you're back outside. Moonlight floods the sky. Time feels like an enemy. How far away are they now? You swing around back to the truck. Kyle and Price have already loaded guns, food, and the deflated raft around Ghost's kayak. Blue watches them finish packing. She has a backpack of her own and Grim in her hands. Her eyes are red.

Ghost comes out with two heavily stuffed bags of his own.

"You can't take him."

Blue tightens her hold on Grim. "I'll hold him the whole way."

"You can't."

"I can. I'm not—I'm not leaving him. He'll die."

"Say goodbye to him and get in the truck."

The look he gives her is final.

She knows it.

She kneels down and releases the rabbit.

He lingers by her feet.

Tears flow.

"You have to stay here, okay? I'm—I'm sorry."

Kyle and Ari give their farewell to Cherry. He removes the saddle. You are tempted to thank her for saving your life, but before you can, Kyle strikes her rear and sends her running toward the north. You hope she can get out of here.

You, Blue, and Nereida sit in the backseats. Kyle and Ari sit out on the truck bed, while Ghost drives and Price holds the map. Faded headlights cut through the night as the engine coughs to life. The silhouette of the camp outside the window is the last glimpse you steal as Ghost drives through the trees.

There isn't much talking except for Price telling him where to go. When Price unfolds the map, a small paper falls out. Ghost quickly snatches it and stuffs it in his pocket. Blue trembles beside you, but she's silent. You switch between playing with the plastic bracelet on your wrist and reopening the scab on your finger to keep your mind busy. You can't think about the what-if's—not now.

The bumpy ride softens once Ghost makes it to the road. You squint your eyes to read the roadsigns as they pass, but they're faded and it's dark. All you can make out is the letter M: motorway. It must be the M1. You crossed it on the way to the village, but this time Ghost follows it south, opposite of Manchester.

Not even half an hour into the drive, Ghost swears under his breath. He slows down to a near-stop, causing your forehead to almost slam into the headrest. Your heart stutters when you look out the windshield. A group of Greys, not as large as the one you witnessed, but still sizable, lingers in the middle of the road. The headlights draw their shadows against the concrete—dark, spidery fingers.

"Go around them," Price directs. "Keep some distance."

Ghost veers the truck left onto the grassy side of the motorway. The ride turns rough again and you notice Blue pressing her knuckles into your thigh. You let her. You watch the group pass through the window—maybe twenty or thirty of them. They are moving in the direction of the woods. Drawn to the terribly strong scent of the mass already congregated in there.

When the truck fully passes them, your mind drifts. You think of small things. The growing cabbages Blue planted. If they will survive, or be trampled. Ghost's books. The shed you used to sleep. The violets by the pond, in full bloom, soon to be crushed and matted to the ground.

Ghost won't be driving all through the night.

Price claims it would be a waste of fuel, since they haven't decided upon the safest route to continue further south towards the channel yet. One step at a time. Instead, after passing signs for Loughborough and circling around the quaint, broken town-scape, Ghost drives down a gravel road that leads to a quiet, overgrown ranch. There is a broken barn and eroded fence posts, but mostly grass. At least, that is what you make out in the dark. It should be far enough from the horde to be a safe place for sleep.

They have two tents with them. Kyle hops out of the truck bed and sets them up with Ari, Price shining a flashlight for their eyes. Sleeping bags are thrown in.

Nereida touches her husband's cheek.

"Are you going to sleep any?"

"Not tonight. We'll keep watch." He kisses her knuckles.

Nereida and Ari end up in one tent for the night, and you and Blue take the other. The three men will stay awake, watching over the supplies and keeping an eye out for signs of Greys. You have the stubborn itch to stay up with them—be a fourth set of eyes—but you will yourself to leave your bow at the foot of the tent and bend down to slip inside with Blue. You help her into the sleeping bag since she has never used one before. She curls up inside it.

You are barely inside your own when she whispers, "Twix?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't like this."

"I don't, either."

Moonlight breaches the nylon walls. You can make out the shape of her nose, the glisten in her eyes.

"Are we going to go back?"

"I don't—I don't think so."

Luckily, it's left at that. She doesn't know about her dad's plan for Switzerland yet. Or maybe she is starting to put the pieces together. She doesn't ask.

You turn on your side to look at her better. You reach a hand out of the sleeping bag to stroke her hair. "I'm sorry. I'm...I'm so sorry about Grim. He'll be okay, alright? He's a smart guy. Learned from you all these years."

"I hope so," she says, quiet. "I don't even have any pictures to remember him by."

"You have your memories of him. All of the small things. Hold tight to those and you'll never forget him, okay?"

"Okay." She shivers. It's cold now without the sun. For a few silent minutes, she simply cries. You stroke her hair, from scalp to ends, and count in your head. It does some to ground you. To ignore the fresh images seared into your eyelids. By the time you reach 248, she wipes her eyes roughly and says your name again. Her teeth are gritted, to keep her warm, or to stop from crying too loud.

"Yeah?"

"Are you having sex with my dad?"

The question makes your fingers pause in their ministrations.

Something clenches at the pit of your stomach.

"I, um—no. No, of course not."

A shaky breath.

"You would tell me, right? If you were."

"Yes, of course," you whisper. "Get some sleep, alright?" You give a final stroke to her hair and turn away, flat on your back.

Sleep is difficult, but the three shadows outside the tent offer a thread of comfort, so you will your eyes to shutter. You dream of an endless meadow. The tall plants turn to hungry mouths. By the time dawn arrives, you awaken, and feel disoriented. You sit upright, looking around and wondering how you got here. You aren't in Ghost's room, in his bed, with his warm body close by. Your toes are numb. You see Blue's face slackened with fatigue, half covered by the sleeping bag, her body snuggled close to yours, and everything comes back to you in flashes. The Greys in the meadow. The quick evacuation. Pulling over for the night. It sinks in. Your stomach howls, but you ignore it,

There are murmured voices outside.

You carefully unzip the entrance and slip outside so as not to wake Blue. The sky is a muted purple. Price, Kyle, and Ghost are by the truck bed. Price has the map in his hands, and Ghost is showing him two bright red jerry cans.

"That's it?"

"That's it, plus what's already in the tank."

"And it's full?"

"Bit less than full now."

With everyone else still asleep, you hesitate to make your presence known. You feel like you'd be intruding. But the thought recoils quickly. The more stubborn part of your brain bares its teeth. You have a right to be apart of the conversation. You want to know what is happening. What they plan.

As you make your way over, chilled arms crossed tight beneath your breasts, it is Kyle who notices you first. His eyes soften. Then Price—his brown eyes lift from the map as he regards you.

"Twix." He greets and you think it is the first he has said your name. Ghost is the one you fail to look at but you feel his stare. "Sleep alright?"

"Just fine." Your eyes flick to the map, noticing new marks that weren't there the last time you looked it over. "Have you guys..." As the words leave your lips, the confidence in your chest falters. You clear your throat in attempt to recapture your resolve. "Have you decided where we are going next? I mean—Switzerland is still the plan, right?"

Price's eyes sweep over you once, twice, before moving to Ghost, brow ticking as if in question. This irritates you—as if he is asking Ghost whether or not he should tell you, and you have to bite your cheek to fight a scowl.

There is a subtle nod from Ghost that you think you might imagine, but Price looks back at you. "Switzerland is still the plan. We need to get here first—" he taps a finger on the map at the edge of England,"—to the Strait of Dover. The narrowest part of the channel. The biggest question is how. Going through London is the quickest way."

"But London is bound to be teeming with Greys," you frown.

"Precisely."

Kyle threads a hand through his hair, visibly concerned. "But going around it means more fuel."

"Well, how much do we have?" you ask, finally glancing at Ghost. You are scared of the answer.

He lifts the two cans up. "About 43 liters, plus the 30 already in the truck."

You feel relieved. "That's actually decent."

Kyle shakes his head. "Decent, yeah. But we're bound to have to end up taking side streets and stopping here and there for shit that's on the road, which wastes fuel. It's not a perfect drive."

"Well," your eyes move over the truck, then back to Price, "Can't we just go the long way, see how far the truck gets us, then do the rest on foot?"

"Are you willing to carry the kayak, Twix?" Price asks.

You flush. "I mean, it's not impossible is it?"

Ghost sets the cans down. "It's too much to carry. We can't go on foot for very far with the kayak, and we need it."

Because the raft is for six people. Not just that, you realize, as you take in just how much is filling the truck bed. All of the supplies have to make it across the water, too. It doesn't matter if six people can get in the raft if the supplies add to the weight limit like an extra person.

Somewhere in your thinking a hand brushes over your bicep and you flinch. "Cold?"

It's Kyle. Without your response, he chucks off his jacket and places it over your shoulders. You mutter a quiet thanks and slip your hands through the sleeves.

You don't know why, but your gaze shifts to Ghost, though you are only met with an unreadable expression before his attention refocuses on the map. He moves a gloved finger over it, landing on Colchester.

"Then we take a longer route on the water. If we avoid London and travel on the east side, we save fuel making it to the coast. The trip across will be longer than the Strait of Dover, but I'd rather take that risk than go through London. It's a fucking death trap there."

"That's a possibility," Price nods slowly, mewling it over. He rubs his beard. "Leaving from the Colchester coastline would mean maybe eight or ten hours to get across, which we can manage—with the right weather."

"Colchester, then," Kyle says. He seems more keen to this idea, shoulders loosening. "We can take the A14 towards Kettering. Can't be more than an hour or two from here. And then the A11. It should avoid the worst of it."

Price nods and folds the map up. "We keeping moving, then. The longer we stay in one spot, the more risk." He lays a hand on Ghost's shoulder. "This was the right choice, Simon."

Ghost simply nods.

The plan seems solid enough. Drive to the channel and get across. It is the water that makes you the most uneasy, and traveling through France where no one here is as familiar with the landscape as they are England. You've tried to recall what you heard from the radios way back at the start. You know Paris, a major city, succumbed quickly. But what about the rest of it?

You wonder if Ghost is as scared as you are to be ripped from the small semblance of safety he has had for over five years now. If he is, it doesn't show. He is back to clinical. A lieutenant. Not the man you've grown far too comfortable throwing attitude at.

When Kyle and Price leave to make a small fire with gathered kindling, he tosses the jerry cans back in the truck and grabs your arm before you can walk away.

"How is she?" he asks.

Blue, he means.

You look back at the tent. "She's doing alright, I think. Scared. But she understands." You wet your lips. "She doesn't know, does she? About us heading for Switzerland with them."

"I haven't had the chance to talk to her yet."

You nod, teeth grazing your bottom lip. "Thank you... for letting me be apart of that conversation. I know that I—I don't have as much value here as everyone else, but I am still worth keeping around. I am ready to help. Just tell me what to do, Ghost, and I'll do it. You know I will. I am stronger than I was before, thanks to you."

Ghost's head tilts downward as a breath of silence passes between you.

He doesn't comment on anything you've just said. He takes hold of one your hands. You are confused before he pries it open, grabbing your thumb and inspecting it like a slide under a microscope. The nick from when you cut your hair. The scab you've failed to let take.

"Stop picking at it, unless you want an infection."

"I can't help it sometimes."

He drops your hand. The warmth fizzles. "You still have antiseptic?"

You nod.

"Good. Use it only for yourself. Understood?"

"Yeah," you breathe, and wonder with a furrowed brow why he is bringing this up now. There is no chance to ask when he grabs the lapel of the jacket on your shoulders and begins to force it off.

"Give this back to Kyle. You have your own."

Breakfast consists of jerky, beans, and water that Price and Kyle tapped from a tree. A spile. Of course, they have one. You try not to feel spiteful of how competent they are—prepared. Just like Ghost. If only Paul had such things at his disposal. Maybe he could've devised a stronger Plan B. Maybe they would've been able to get away with you that first time around.

Ghost explains to Blue the plan. That there is no going back, not now or ever. That there will be a new home for them, a safer one where they will never have to flee, far away in another country where other people have made a community, where she could have more friends. It is all wishful thinking, of course, but he has to sell it to her as something certain.

You overhear bits of the conversation as you force yourself to eat. She sounds sad and distant. Detached. Like she hears what he is saying but doesn't really hear it. Still, she isn't crying anymore. When they are done talking, she eats her breakfast in small bites beside Ari.

By high morning, the air heats up, and you don't need a jacket at all. It is time to move onward. Kyle and Ghost take the tents down. Nereida whispers something to her husband and then disappears behind a tree somewhere. When she returns, she taps your shoulder.

"My period just came," she says, shaking her head. "Quite the timing, huh?"

Oh. "I'm sorry, that sucks. You have little towels and stuff for it?"

She nods. "Yes, luckily. Remember the rosemary I found? I use that to help fight the odor so Greys can't smell it as well. Let me know if you ever need any." You take a mental note. "You know, I was hoping getting my tubes tied would stop things like this. All it did was make it more irregular."

Your brows furrow. "Wait—you mean, you did that before the spread?"

She smiles lightly. "I never wanted to be pregnant. Really makes things less stressful now."

That makes sense, then. That her and Price don't have to worry. The question has popped into your brain a few times now, against your will, whenever you caught sight of them kissing and touching. They seem far too intimate, even in those small moments, to not be having sex in private.

Just before taking off, you unpack your supplies and wrap up your thumb with some ointment. More than anything you want to crawl under a blanket and hide, preferably back on Ghost's warm bed. But as you crawl back into the truck, that vision fades further behind you, and you will yourself to focus on the road ahead, to keep moving.

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost #cod #simon ghost riley #zombie apocolypse au

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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 year ago

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baby shoes

words: 2.3k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, best friend!rafe, childhood friends to lovers, pretty fluffy :), p in v sex, unprotected smut, breeding!, pregnancy kink?, no actual sex while pregnant but lots of like. bump descriptions?

rafe rolls his eyes as you let out a squeal, already knowing what is happening.

“oh. my. god.” you pick up the baby shoes off the shelf, a pair of sparkly flats with the cutest flower straps you've ever seen. “rafe, they're so tiny!”

you hold them up for him to look at as if he's never seen baby shoes before, despite you pointing them out to him every time you're out shopping together.

“yeah, real cute.” he says, keeping his voice completely monotone.

“rafe, don't be so sour.” you pout at him. your friendship is an unexpected one. started in kindergarten and has only grown closer since, your sweet nature in contrast to rafes hard exterior.

“y/n.” rafe sighs, taking the baby shoes from your hands as he sets them back on the shelf. “we look at baby shoes and onesies every time we go to target. i brought you here to buy you a pair of boots, let's go.”

rafe tries to usher you down the aisle. despite you also being a kook he refuses to let you (or, really, your parents credit card) pay for anything.

you nod and continue to the women's section when you cross by a pair of ugg boots made for toddlers and stop in your tracks. “raaaafe!” you coo.

look how cute this baby is rafey

“are you serious?” rafe questions reading your text message. “im laying right next to you.”

“too much work to roll over and show you.” you shrug, both scrolling on your phones, having just gotten back from a long day. so long rafe insisted you slept at his because it was closer. only one block closer, but you didn't argue. rafes bed is also yours, and yours his. you've always shared, no need to change now just because you're older.

“that baby isn't even that cute.” rafe huffs out.

you turn over now, rolling onto your stomach to glare at him. “rafe cameron, you are such a dick!”

“oh, so you'll roll over to yell at me?” rafe questions, a smile on his face. usually he wouldn't take shit from anyone, but you're not just anyone to him.

“yes because you deserve it asshole. that baby is adorable.”

“yours would be way cuter.” rafe grins, knowing how flustered you get talking about having a child of your own.

“okay, true.”

“what the fuck is going on?” rafe questions, his mouth literally dropping as he walks in.

“oh my god!” you squeal. “you told me you were coming over at 2, you idiot!”

rafe looks at the time on your alarm clock. 1:55. rafe may have not knocked before letting himself in, but he figured it was fine.

“what are you wearing?”

“it's… it's a fake pregnancy belly. my friend carly who works with the school plays said they were getting rid of it bc it was getting old… and i asked to have it.” you shrug, your embarrassment melting away the longer you talk about it.

“why would you want that?” rafe questions.

“i just wanted to see what id look like.” you shrug, turning again to look at yourself in the mirror, running your hands over the tshirt stretching around the plastic material. “i think i look cute.”

rafes eyes are on the round swell of your belly. he thinks you look more than cute, he thinks you look so ravishing he wants to make that belly real right this second.

“gonna take a shower.” rafe makes a turn towards your bathroom before you can argue, saving himself by locking the door behind him.

“why are you in a mood?” rafe just entered your house but he can already tell from the look on your face that something has upset you.

“freaking kelsey is pregnant.” you spit her name out like it's an insult. she's been your sworn moral enemy ever since she “dated” rafe in the fourth grade and told him he had to choose between staying friends with you or dating her. he chose staying friends of course, but you've despised her anyways since.

“okay…” rafe waits for more reasoning to you being so upset.

“that should be me.” you whine, not ashamed as you throw a little tantrum, stomping your feet on the ground.

“it can be.” rafe shrugs.

“huh?” you question, plopping back on the couch behind you, waiting for rafe to join you for movie night.

“you're not a kid anymore, y/n. you're 21. have a baby if you want.” rafe simply states.

“i- who would i even have a baby with? im single.” you've been single a majority of your life. there were flings in high school, but no one that lasted.

what you don't know if rafe contributed heavily to those relationships ending. he had staked his claim on you, and no guy was worthy in his eyes.

“id help you raise a baby.” rafe says without really thinking, sitting down on the couch next to you, not flinching as you turn to place your feet on his lap, always wanting to stretch out and get comfortable.

“you would?”

“im with you all the time anyways.” rafe nods. “if you had a baby id basically be their dad anyways.”

“id want that.” you admit. “you're the only guy out there i trust enough to get me pregnant.” you're not really thinking about your words themselves as you press your fingers to your stomach, imagining it filled up with a baby, with rafes baby.

“alright, we gotta talk about something else.” rafe shifts on the couch, pushing your feet off his lap to turn himself slightly away from you.

“wait why?” you question, sitting forward.

“just… change the subject.” rafe takes a deep breath, trying to calm down the boner that is growing in his pants.

“no, tell me!” you move closer, which only makes rafe turn away more. “tell me, rafey!”

he's never kept anything from you, and shockingly you can't figure out why he's behaving like this now.

“jesus, stop!” rafe scooches away when you grab onto his arm, trying to get him to face you, to look at you.

“tell me!” you complain again.

“because im fucking hard okay!” rafe shouts, standing up from the couch. “it's getting me fucking hard thinking about getting you pregnant so change the fucking subject!”

you sit on the couch in shock, eyes wide open. you know you shouldn't, he's your best friend after all, but you find your eyes moving lower, and sure enough, the front of rafes pants and tented, cock pushing away from his body.

“i-i-” you stammer.

“you nothing. okay? we forget this happened. just stop talking about getting fucking pregnant and stop talking about me being the one to do it.”

“but i want it to be you.” you blink up at rafe, head suddenly clearing. you do want it or be rafe. he's the only one who should be waking up in the middle of the night with you when your baby cries. he's the one you want to experience every milestone with. he's the one you want filling you up over and over until your tummy starts to swell.

“we can't go back.” rafe says, his tone suddenly serious. “we can't go back to just friends.”

“i know.” it's all you need to say for rafe to surge forward, dropping his knees to the floor as he kisses you, mouth easily dominating yours. you let out a soft moan as his hands cup your jaw, keeping you close even though you press yourself into him, hands fisted in his shirt.

“let me have you.” rafe pants against your mouth. “i need you. let me fill you up.”

“yes.” you nod. “yes, please. take your clothes off.”

you don't care that you're in the middle of your living room, you immediately tug your shirt off over your head, bearing your breasts to him. rafe knew you never wore a bra when in your own home, but seeing your bare tits is still a shock.

he doesn't even take his shirt off despite you tugging at it, cupping your chest as he leans in, mouth wrapping around your nipple.

“oh my god!” you squeal, fisting your hands in rafes hair, holding him close to your body as his tongue flicks over your nipple, hardening it quickly.

“i… im sorry baby i need to get inside of you.” rafe feels crude, tugging at your shorts to pull them down your legs, tossing them away.

“i need you too.” there will be plenty of time now that you've admitted feelings for each other to take your time, to go slow and learn each other's bodies.

rafe stands up, looking down at you in just your underwear, eyes glassy with lust as he pulls his shirt off, followed by him tugging his pants down, finally getting your eyes off his face as your eyes move down. you reach forward, hand rubbing over rafes length, annoyed that the fabric of his underwear is not allowing you to see him properly.

“fuck, stop.” rafe takes a step back. “im supposed to cum in you. get you pregnant. you're gonna make me bust.”

you smile, flattered that your simple touch can cause him to almost lose it.

“where do you want me.” you whisper. you aren't a virgin but you certainly aren't as experienced as rafe. while you know he partakes in hookups at parties you don't attend, you were never interested in sleeping around just for the sake of sleeping around.

“just lay back, baby.” rafe let's out a huff as you turn from sitting on the couch to laying down, your breasts falling beautifully as you wait for him to make the next move. “let's get these off.” rafe pulls your underwear down, but you keep your legs together to hide yourself for a little longer.

rafe shucks his underwear off next, praying his throbbing erection doesn't cause him to cum the second he gets inside of you.

you let out a low moan just from the both of you being naked. “gonna kneel down. wrap your leg around me.” rafe helps position you, spreading your legs as his eyes take in your wet cunt, pretty and perfect as he wraps your knee around his hips as he sinks himself down, moving to drape his body over yours.

“ill go slow.” rafe says, hoping he can stay true to his word as he reaches down, running his cock briefly through your folds, obsessed with the way your expression changed into one of pure pleasure.

“okay, just at first.” you nod. you need slow to open you up, to stretch your walls to allow rafes size, but you dont want it to stay slow, needing to feel him pound into you, make a mess of your cunt.

rafe sinks in with a gasp as your tightness and warmth envelops him. “fuck.” he mutters out, eyes squeezing closed as he inserts himself until he’s fully buried inside you pussy.

“feels real good rafey.” you pout. “cant believe we didn’t do this sooner. could already have a baby by now.” “oh, im gonna give you plenty.” rafe bends down to kiss you, letting himself get lost in the kiss, focusing on your mouth against his to distract from his throbbing cock.

“move.” you gasp, starting to grind your hips. “move.”

its all rafe needs to start smashing his hips back and forth, rocking into you in a steady but fast motion, aiming every time to get his cock as deep inside of you as possible.

“yes, yes!” you squeal, hands gripping his shoulders. as good as rafe thrusting into you feels, you want his cum more than anything. you begin to squeeze your pussy around him every time he pulls out before thrusting back in, and you can tell from the way rafes mouth hangs open that he likes it.

“fuck, im already close, sorry.” rafe has never had a problem cumming too early with anyone else, but hes never been with you, his best friend who he’s been head over heels for since kindergarten, who is begging to have him put a baby in your womb.

“cum in me. please.” you don’t even care about your own orgasm. you don’t even want it, already feeling so overwhelmed from the way rafes cock swells inside of you.

your eyebrows raise when you realize what the warmth spreading inside of you is, never having let a man take you without a condom. you let out a moan to match rafes as he cums, flooding your insides as he grinds into you.

you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down onto you, not caring about the weight as you squeeze your cunt, milking any last drops out of him.

“oh my god, i’m gonna cry its so cute.” tears brim in your eyes as you look at your finished nursery, rafe having done the last of the decorations when you were napping, putting the final touches on.

“you're so cute.” he hums, wrapping his arms around you as he stands behind you, also looking over the room.

“thank you. its perfect.” you sniffle.

“you’re perfect.” rafe has been overwhelming you with compliments lately, wanting to make sure that you know he is still very much attracted to you with your pregnant belly. “and beautiful. and hot. and sexy.” “oh, stop it.” you roll your eyes with a giggle, turning to face rafe.

“it would be inappropriate to have sex in our babies nursery, wouldn’t it?” despite the baby not even being here yet, rafe looks around the former guest bedroom and realizes that it simply wouldn’t be right.

“you’re not getting me on the floor anyways.” you press your hands to your stomach. seven months along with rafes baby.

“probably for the best.” rafe places his hand on your back, leading you out of the nursery and towards your bed. “wanna eat you out on our bed anyways, mamas.”

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bratbarzal · 3 months ago

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Maggie you doing blurbs has made my whole week! Could I get “you celebrate this corny day?” “just say you’re lonely and have no one to spend it with, next time, ‘kay?” but with friends to lovers instead of enemies? With Quinn pleeeease <3

✩‧₊˚ bratbarzal's valentines event!˚₊‧✩

4. “you celebrate this corny day?” “just say you’re lonely and have no one to spend it with, next time, ‘kay?” with quinn (I took creative liberties with the exact phrasing of this but the essence is there lmao!! also love you for customising it, if anyone else is requesting feel free to jumble the tropes!!)

"You can't seriously be into all this stuff," Quinn huffs as he watches you pick up another heart shaped pillow down the seasonal aisle in the grocery store - your cart still empty despite being there almost 15 minutes, now - and the object in your hand having no conceivable difference to the one you picked up just before it. "It's so corny."

All he's heard for weeks now is Valentines this, and Valentines that, all his teammates going the extra mile for their significant others like it isn't just the same as any other Friday.

Dozens of roses, candlelit dinners, boxes of chocolates and God-forbid any of them forget a card, because how could you possibly ever show someone you love them without a folded bit of paper.

It's all so stupid.

"It's not corny, it's cute." You throw back over your shoulder, making a point of lifting the pillow higher just to show him, "Look, it's got ruffles!"

"What's the big deal about ruffles," he scowls, stepping past the cart and closer to the display that houses all the valentines themed garbage - pillows, keychains, water bottles and little plushies. He never thought you'd be into all this stuff - you barely even like Christmas - but here you are, fawning over anything you can find that's pink, or fluffy, or both. "You have like 90 pillows back in your apartment, I can barely fit on the couch anymore."

"There are 8 pillows max between both of my couches, Q, and they're decorative." You retort, rolling your eyes at your best friend as his face turns, nose scrunching in a petulant scowl. "I'm not taking interior design critique from someone with a sauna in his kitchen."

"It wouldn't fit anywhere else, you know that." he grumbles, snatching the pillow from your grip and throwing it back with the others.

"What's got you so annoyed about Valentines Day, huh?" you pick up the next item along, a fluffy keychain with cherries shaped like hearts - or hearts shaped like cherries, you're not quite sure - swinging the loop around your finger until you have enough momentum to launch it his way. "Did no one give Quinny a rose?"

He catches it, clumsily, against his chest, holding it in front of him to get a good look before he throws it straight back. "I'm not annoyed. You shouldn't have to buy any of this garbage to show somebody you love them. Just think it's a made up holiday set up to make money off of schmucks. "

"Hey, don't call me a schmuck," you jab a finger into his arm.

"Don't call me Quinny," he jabs back.

"If you don't have anybody to spend Valentines with and you're feeling lonely, you can just say that," You tell him, purposely bordering on condescending, picking up one of the stuffed animals - a bear, holding a heart that reads, I love you - and wiggling it his way. "See, we're all lovers, no one else here is gonna judge you."

He watches the way you pout down at the bear, tapping at its nose with your finger and hesitantly putting it back, like you don't quite want to.

"We're the only ones here, period," he scoffs, "No one else is weird enough to do their grocery shopping at 10pm."

"It was the only time you're free and I need you to haul the big bag of cat food into my car," you pout, remembering how much he had scolded you the last time you tried to do it on your own and hurt your back - promising that the next time you needed to top up, he'd come with and get his own shopping done at the same time.

"Whatever, you don't have anybody to spend Valentines with, either."

"I have Ziggy," you shrug, referring to your cat with the little white patch of fur around it's eye like a lightening bolt - the cat that Quinn had grumbled about when you first brought her home from the shelter, but who he always sought out whenever he came over to your place. "We're gonna watch Bake Off and eat dinner off of matching heart-shaped plates."

You hold up two red ceramic plates to him with a big smile before putting them in the cart, ignoring when he chuckles to himself, and edging past him to finally make your way off of the seasonal aisle.

"Hold on," he calls after you, appearing by your side with another plate in hand. "Ziggy already told me she'd be my Valentine, so we're gonna have to share."

"She's way too high maintenance for you." You snort, bumping your hip against his, "Especially if you think Valentines gifts are corny. She's not a cheap date, Q."

"Just like her mother," he sighs, dramatically, jumping back when you swing your leg out to kick him. "Hey, watch the shins, cat lady, you can't afford the damages on these things!"

He ignores the glare you give him as you watch him retreat, jogging back over to all the Valentines stuff and picking up two bears - the one you were just holding, and a smaller copy - one for you, and one for Ziggy.

"Here," he throws them into the cart, too. You pick the bear back up, twisting your lips as you look at the two of them side by side, and look back up to watch him walking backwards down the aisle, a glint in his eye as he watches you. "Don't check out without me, I need to go pick up some supplements."

"Big macho health-nut thinks I'm the corny one," you speak to the bear like it can even hear you, putting on a grumbly voice in an attempt to mimic Quinn.

"I'm sorry I called you corny!" He calls, further down the aisle, now.

"You called me a schmuck, too!" You call back, cheeks flushing at the lopsided grin he gives just before he rounds the corner at the bottom.

It's a smile he can't really shift as he makes a bee-line for the health aisle, content now that he actually has plans - isn't going to be sitting alone in his apartment with no one to spend his Valentines with, and doesn't need to fork out thousands just for it to mean something.

And when it rolls around a couple days later, and he's sprawled out on your couch, pillows tossed to the floor, and Bake Off flickering almost silently on your TV, he lays back with that same smile etched into his features.

You're asleep under one arm, and Ziggy is purring under the other, and for the first time ever, thanks to his best friend and your overly fluffy cat, he thinks that maybe the holiday isn't such a joke.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine #💌.valentinesevent #*writing #MY FIRST QUINN THING HALLELUJAH #why do I love them already #this is so fun #the ending is garbage but what can you do in another world I've written these two a whole series #.ve

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cy-cyborg · 1 year ago

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How your disabled character's allies react to their disability can make or break the representation in your story: Writing Disability Quick Tips

[ID: An image with “Writing Disability quick tips: How your character's allies react to their disability matters” written in chalk the colour of the disability pride flag, from left to right, red, yellow, white, blue and green. Beside the text are 2 poorly drawn people icons in green, one is standing with their hand up to the face of the other, who is in a wheelchair. /End ID]

Something I brought up in my big post about Toph Beifong was how the other characters reacted to Toph pointing out that things were not accessible to her and setting boundaries regarding her disability, which were ignored. I had more to say about it than I thought I did, as it turns out (when isn't that the case lol) but I feel like this is an important aspect of disability representation that is all too often over looked.

You can write the best, most accurate portrayal of a specific disability ever put to screen or page, but it won't mean much if all the other characters, specifically those we're supposed to like and empathise with, treat your character terribly for being disabled and having needs relating to said disability, especially if the story justifies their behaviour.

You see this most often with autistic characters and especially autistic-coded characters. The character in question will be given a bunch of autistic traits, most often traits relating to not understanding certain social dynamics or sarcasm, and when they get it wrong, the other characters we are supposed to like jump down their throat, tease them or outright abandon them. Autism isn't the only disability that gets treated this way, but it is one of the more common ones that get this treatment. It doesn't matter if you do everything else right when creating an autistic character if the other "good guys" constantly call them annoying, get angry at them or laugh at them for the very traits that make them autistic, or for advocating for their needs.

Likewise, if you have a leg amputee character who is otherwise done well, but is constantly being criticised by their allies for needing to rest their legs or taking too long to get their prosthetics on, it undermines a lot of the other work you've done. Same goes for having a wheelchair user who is accused of being a bore or a stick in the mud because they point out the places their friends want to go to on a group holiday have no wheelchair access, or a deaf character who is accused of being entitled for wanting their family to learn to sign, or anything else.

This isn't to say you can never have moments like these in your stories, but its important to remember that a) people with the same disability as your character will be in your audience. If you spend a whole season of your TV show shaming your autistic character for real traits that real autistic people have, they're not exactly going to feel welcome and may not want to hang around. b) it's going to very, very heavily impact people's perceptions of your "heros" who do this, especially in they eyes of your audience members who share the character's disability or who have had similar experiences. This isn't like calling someone a mean name or being a bit of a dick when you're sleepy, it's going to take a lot to regain audience appeal for the offending character, and depending on exactly what they do and how frequently they do it, they may not even be able to come back from it at all. And finally, c) there should be a point to it outside of just shaming this character and saying the other guy is an asshole. Like I said before, you're character is criticising real people's real disabilities and the traits or problems that come with them, things that they often have no control over, it shouldn't be used as a cheap, quick way to establish a quirky enemies to lovers dynamic or show that one guy is kind of an ass before his redemption arc. If you really must have your characters do this, be mindful of when and how you use it.

#Writing disability with Cy Cyborg #Quick tips #Disability #Disabled #Disability Representation #Writing Disability #Writing #Writeblr #Authors #Creators #Writing Advice #Disabled Characters #On Writing

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perfctvelvet · 1 year ago

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Hi can I request something with Jenna Ortega for the Saturday sleepover. Thanks!

Make it work; Jenna/Reader

Summary: Reader's brother brings his girlfriend home on their weekend visit from college. The two don't really get along, but somehow find a way to find common ground.

Content: Infidelity, enemies to lovers sorta kinda, oral sex, fingering, and a little tit play.

WC: 5.7k

visits homes were made on two conditions:

1) Her parents let her fly under the radar, not telling anyone that she's coming home for the weekend.

2) There will be no family events (with Thanksgiving and Christmas as the only exceptions) that she is obligated to go to.

Technically her parents hadn't broken that promise, but they didn't tell her that along with her visiting, her little brother and his new girlfriend will also be in town as well.

"She's a really sweet girl, Y/n, and your brother is very excited for all of us to meet her. You can just pretend to be happy for the weekend, right?"

Despite there only being a two year difference between the two, Y/n still saw Isaac as goofy 15-year-old instead of the college sophomore he is. She would always clown him for being awkward with girls and having crushes on her friends. Something seemed to switch overnight the moment he stepped onto a college campus. After 4 years of failing to find a girl to date him in high school, it only took him a month into his first year to start messing around with girls. Y/n has been spared all the gory details, but she knows her brother was participating in the usual college fuckboy activities. Now as a sophomore he decides it’s time to get into a serious relationship and “change his ways”. They were driving over 5 hours just to come for three and a half days. She hasn't heard much about his "girlfriend" except for what she learned from her parents in the past few hours. She was a bit bitter that her brother hadn't told her first and didn't tell her anything at all.

Her escape home from college is supposed to be just that, an escape. But, with Isaac bringing home his first ever girlfriend, there is bound to be a spectacle. One of her nosy aunts will somehow find out and find their way over and make it a big event. Isaac and his girlfriend are set to arrive within an hour and by then Y/n suspects that her entire extended family will know.

"Who even is this girl anyway? It feels like we're rolling out the red carpet for her...for them."

"Don't act like it wasn't the same for when you brought home your first boyfriend. Even though we knew you really didn't like him, it was still a milestone for you! That wasn't very important for you, but this is very important for your brother. He loves this girl-"

"He's 19 and a sophomore in college — there will be plenty of girls he 'loves'."

"That may be true, but he really likes this girl. So for one weekend, just be happy for your little brother."

Y/n's mother isn't making a suggestion, she's demanding it. The look in her mother's eyes is recognizable, one that easily made her shut up. Her complaints will continue to fall on deaf ears because this weekend is not about her. If she wants to be holed up in her room the entire time while the rest of them enjoy the weekend, then neither of her parents will stop her. However, her mother will not let her sabotage this weekend with her attitude.

"I think they're here," her father chimes in from the kitchen.

There is the unmistakable sound of a car motor coming from outside. Y/n's mom jumps up from the couch with excitement before rushing towards the door. Y/n hasn't seen her mother act like this in years, not since she came back home for her first break from college. She was seriously this excited to meet some random girl that her brother will probably not be with by the end of this summer. Her parents were doting too hard on her little brother just because he was awkward with girls for the entirety of his time in high school, but who isn't?

Y/n was completely turned off by the cheesiness of the reunion and meeting of this girl. Her mother threw her arms around his girlfriend as if she had known her for years. She takes a step back to look at her before fawning at her, "you're so adorable!" The four of them were too chummy for her liking — even her father was gushing.

When they got to Y/n she's sure they expected her to have the same reaction as the three of them, but she couldn't muster up the energy to put on a performance for some random girl she's not going to think twice about once this trip is over.

"Hi! I'm Jenna!"

There was something about this girl that Y/n didn't like, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what. Something about her bubbly little personality seemed fake. Certainly she should've known that wearing a low cut top to meet your boyfriend's parents for the first time wasn't appropriate.

"Hi."

If looks could kill then Y/n's mother would be doing life. For one weekend she wanted her daughter to quell the 'ice princess' act and even just pretend to be happy.

"Do you need help getting settled in?" Y/n's mother intervened before the situation could become tense. "I can show you to the guest room!"

"Sure, I'd love that!"

Y/n felt like the odd one out. The entire night was about the lovely couple that is her little brother and his perky little girlfriend. Her mother cooked his favorite meal as if she wasn't home from college too. Her master's program was killing her and she would've appreciated her mom throwing in a little something for her too. But no, it was all about Isaac and Jenna. If she had known that she was in for a long, annoying weekend, she would've stayed miles away from this place.

——————————————————

Her resent was obvious to everyone. Everyone except Jenna. Y/n felt like the girl was a little too dumb for her own good. A part of her felt like an absolute bitch for thinking that way, but her annoyance over her parents constant fawning over those two really irked her. They really wanted Y/n to be a part of their joy when it didn't matter to her. Her getting along with Jenna doesn't matter seeing that the girl and her brother are not going to last. It's college, and they're only sophomores. This isn't some great love that's going to stand the test of time. All it takes is one party, one glance at another person, or one stressful semester before it all ends up crashing down. Y/n won't revel in the eventual demise, but she's certainly going to rub it in her parents face to never take her brother's little flings seriously ever again.

"We'll be back by six. You know how your father gets at the Tommy Bahama semi-annual sale. You promise to play nice and maybe hangout with your brother and his girlfriend?"

"Yeah, okay, just bring me back a pretzel."

Y/n hadn't seen her brother or his girlfriend since last night's dinner, and she plans to keep it that way. In fact she wasn't planning on seeing anyone for the rest of the night. With her parents, who surely won't be home by six, out of the house, and the other two most likely having plans, she was prepared for a day alone. She wondered if she still had the vibrator she bought when she was 19 under her bed...

She mentally flipped through all the things she could do today with an empty house. So lost in thought that she didn't hear the rustling and voices upstairs. What pulled her out of her thoughts was the sound of feet bolting down the stairs.

"See you, sis!"

"Wait! Where the hell are you going?!"

When she caught the first glimpse of her brother, he looked like he had been caught. Yet he quickly straightened up and gave her that smile he loves to flash whenever he wants to evade trouble. What was missing was his little girlfriend which made Y/n furrow her brow. She swears that if he's pulling what she thinks he's pulling, her parents are going to come back home to him tied up.

"To see my friends!" He answers as if there wasn't an elephant in the room. Jenna was nowhere to be found yet he was trying to leave.

"What about your girlfriend?"

"Yeah, she's gonna stay here. Please play nice, okay?!"

"You sound like-" The door slams behind her brother, "mom."

Isaac didn't give a damn. End of story. He was going to leave his girlfriend alone in a house with someone who doesn't care to engage with her at all.

Y/n can't help but feel a little bit bad for the brat. That was a shitty thing for her brother to do and it shows that he probably shouldn't be in a committed relationship. If something like this happened to her, she would take the car back to campus and leave them stranded.

"Asshole," she mumbles under her breath before getting up from the kitchen island. There is nothing she can do about her brother's dickhead move, so she just climbs the stairs to head back to her bedroom.

Now, just because she felt bad didn't mean she was going to overcompensate. Today is her day, plus she still finds Jenna to be annoying. But, it's like the younger girl didn't get the hint over dinner last night because when she spots Y/n her eyes light up.

"Hi! It looks like it's just us today!"

"It looks like it's just you today. I have plans."

"Oh are you leaving the house too?"

"No."

"Then it is just us today I suppose."

Y/n was a little flustered at her comment. That wasn't her intention, but Y/n felt like Jenna was trying to poke at her on purpose.

"You can do whatever you want, just don't bother me."

And just like that, Y/n had closed the door in Jenna's face just like Isaac did to her earlier. She really couldn't claim her brother to be the asshole when she was just as rude to Jenna. But, that's not her problem, is it?

——————————————————

If there was one way for Jenna to describe this family it would be odd.

Isaac's parents were nice, but everyone didn't seem to want to be around each other like. From the picture he painted her about his family, Jenna expected things like family game nights or family outings. Instead she was stuck in the childhood bedroom of her boyfriend's while everyone except for his moody sister was out and about. She had asked, even begged, Isaac to take her with her but he insisted it was "boys' night." She came all this way just to sit in his outdated room, alone on a Saturday night. She can't help but feel lied to about everything; his family, their plans for the weekend, and how he feels about her. Meeting the parents was supposed to be a big step in their relationship, but she just feels so discarded. Sure, they showed interest in getting to know her at dinner, but she doesn't know if they approve of her or not. Jenna feels like she loves Isaac, but she feels uncertain about everything right now.

The only thing she could do was make the best out of time alone. She didn't have any idea what to do, but she remembered Isaac telling her about a secret Jacuzzi their parents had on a private balcony. He told her how to get to it without getting caught because he promised that they would use it while everyone was asleep. She had packed her bathing suit for that exact reason, and she wasn't going to let it go to waste. She changed out of her regular clothes and into the pink bathing suit before wrapping herself in one of Isaac's towels. It was covered in dinosaurs and looked two be more than 10 years old. 'Really?' she thought to herself. Thank god no one is going to see her like this.

She left Isaac's room and tip-toed through the halls so as to not disturb Y/n. Y/n was on her ass for some reason and it was secretly bothering her. She felt it was very important for everybody in her boyfriend's family likes her, but Y/n seemed adamant about keeping her distance. Maybe Y/n was just being a protective big sister, but Jenna couldn't help but feel a little ostracized. The best thing she felt to do was just stay out of Y/n's way.

What didn't cross her mind as she made her trek to that coveted jacuzzi was that Y/n probably knew about it too. Jenna felt like was doing her a favor by fucking off to a part of the house that seemed unknown. But, she was in for a shock when she saw Y/n already lounging in the jacuzzi. She had a big pair of headphones and had her head back. She almost looked like she was sleeping. It was the most peaceful Y/n has looked this entire time.

Jenna's instinct was to turn around; to make her escape without Y/n noticing her. She was still feeling weird about being left here alone, and more and more she was feeling like an intruder. Y/n hates her and the last thing Jenna should do is bother her and make it worse. However, a second voice was telling her to not leave.

'No. No...don't turn around. She's not going to do anything besides bitch and complain. You're used to that by now, you can handle it.'

Where the sudden confidence came from, Jenna doesn't know, but now she feels like it's too late to back out. She stealthily walks over to the jacuzzi, doing her best not to disturb Y/n.

"Don't you fucking dare."

Jenna felt her heart almost come to a stop. How did Y/n notice her? Surely she was quiet enough. She hadn't even gotten in yet.

Y/n sits up and lifts her sunglasses to stare at her brother's girlfriend. Isaac must've told her about the jacuzzi because there is no way she would be able to discover it on her own. Y/n was pissed, more so at her brother than Jenna. If she had been left alone in a stranger's home she probably would've gotten bored and done the same. However she's not keen on extending any grave to Jenna who is now disturbing her peace.

"How did you find this?"

"I-I..."

Of course Jenna had no answer. Y/n was only asking to taunt her.

"You know you're not supposed to be up here, right?"

"A-Are you?"

"Hm. Touché."

When she wasn't trying so hard to impress the parents, she actually had a little bite to her albeit she was still nervous in Y/n's presence. Since she was already here now, Y/n figures she'll let her in.

"Well, I guess we can both fit in here."

Jenna felt a weird sense of pride. Yes, Y/n still couldn't be bothered with her presence, but she had given in.

It was awkward, Y/n couldn't lie. She tried to ignore Jenna's presence, but it was hard to. Their legs would bump together every now and then to which Jenna would profusely apologize about. Y/n shrugged it off, but she found Jenna's constant apologizing to be insufferable. Why was she trying so hard to get Y/n to like her?

Curiosity began to nag at her for the first time since she met the girl.

"Jenna."

Jenna is taking back by Y/n actually calling her name. She thought that maybe it was either a mistake or she was imagining things. Until she calls her name again.

"Doesn't it kind of annoy you that my brother just left you stranded here?"

Yes.

"No, not really! He's been talking about seeing his friends for a while now so I'm happy for him!"

"He brought you here just so he could spend time with his boys...got it."

"I-I don't think it's like that Y/n."

"I think it is, Jenny."

Jenna flared her nostrils at Y/n purposefully calling her the wrong name. It was much better when there was awkward silence between them. Y/n had been poking at her since she arrived with her boyfriend. One of Jenna's friends had warned her about the possibility of dealing with a bitchy older sister or helicopter parent, but she had brushed it off. Yet the moment she entered the house Y/n had been dismissive of her. The one thing Jenna wanted out of this trip was to be liked by her boyfriend's family. She still feels like she can make Y/n like her.

"Isaac and I are really happy together, Y/n. Things aren't perfect, but he's trying! You should have more faith in him seeing that he's your brother and all."

"I'm on your side. If my boyfriend left me all alone I'd be pissed. You should be pissed."

The more Y/n brings it up, the less Jenna is able to push down her real feelings. She's not pissed like Y/n keeps suggesting, but she's disappointed that Isaac isn't really doing his best to make her feel included. Some of his friends have girlfriends, why couldn't they have done a group hang. She could've gotten a break from Y/n's coldness and met some other girls and possibly gotten closer to them. Instead she's forced to make this relationship between her and her boyfriend's older sister work.

"I guess it's a little annoying."

"I told you."

"But, it's not as annoying as you constantly being mean to me."

For the second time today Y/n was taken back by this newfound bravery from Jenna. It made her both grow respect for her and the urge to put her back in her place.

"It's just funny watching you be so desperate for approval. I can understand why you want my parents to like you, but they have low standards. But me? I'm just the older sister. I love Isaac to death but we aren't exactly the best of siblings. You'd be better kissing up to his friends and their girlfriends, not me."

Jenna sighs. She didn't expect Y/n to really understand (not because she can't, but because she doesn't want to). It was starting to annoy her more than upset her at this point.

"I just don't get why you don't like me? I'm not asking to be best friends, but is the bitchy act so important that you can't even be decent to me?"

The more time she spent around the twerp, the more Y/n became amused by her. Jenna reminds her of a teacher's pet, someone who needs to be liked by an important authority figure. Maybe Isaac talked her up as some big sister, but Y/n found their relationship to be typical, so the fawning from little Jenna was strange. However, the little devil on her shoulder is telling her to use it to her advantage. Jenna is a cute girl, and obviously unsatisfied in life. Y/n can see it in her eyes that she's not happy nor having a good time.

"Life isn't that simple, Jen. People aren't going to magically fall in love with you. Some things need to be earned." Y/n can see it written on Jenna's face that she's trying to think of ways to earn Y/n's respect. "But, you seem like the type that tries, I'll give you that."

"Well you could at least try to play nice," Jenna whispers under her breath, but she's too close for Y/n not to hear.

"I can play nice, but you might not like how I play."

The way she says the word 'play' is chilling. She's completely fucking around and Jenna is just letting her do so. She's a smart girl, and she knows what's up, but she's not bold enough to speak it out loud.

"I can show you though," Y/n continues. "If you're not scared. I would never make you do anything you don't want to do." Y/n's voice was still colored in her teasing tone, but she was being honest.

Jenna was alone, left behind by her boyfriend to go fuck around with his friends. Maybe it was the anger she felt towards him and the way he doesn't seem to care that much, but for the first time in her life she's willing to do something wrong. But it was for the approval of his boyfriend's big sister, so it's not completely fucked she rationalizes.

"What is it you had in mind?"

"Come over here, Jenna."

There wasn't time for waiting when Y/n was looking at her like that, her body was moving on its own. The bubbles fizz against her skin as she moves through the water. She doesn't think she's been so close to someone else like she is to Y/n right now. There is a certain intimacy that exists in this moment that Jenna isn't even sure she's felt in her relationship. Maybe she's not that into Isaac if she's willing to cheat on him just because he left her alone. Y/n's approval is now less about their relationship and more about Jenna herself.

"Have you ever eaten a girl out?" Y/n was bold in asking. She sort of regrets it when she sees the look on Jenna's face. "You don't have to answer that."

"No, no, it's okay. I've never been with another girl at all."

"Really? No drunken kisses? No weird sorority shit?"

Jenna shakes her head no, and Y/n believes her. She hates to be one of the girl's first, but so be it.

"Don't worry, I'll show you what to do."

The water cascades off Y/n's body as she lifts herself out of the jacuzzi. She rests her back against the house. Her legs spread as an invite for Jenna to come in. She was still covered by her bikini but it was little and it didn't leave much to the imagination. Jenna never had wandering eyes, but she can't deny that Y/n is hot.

Y/n hooks her fingers in her bikini to pull them to the side. Jenna can't pull her eyes away from Y/n's center as she exposes herself. Little droplets slide down her inner thigh and her pussy looks like a treat.

"Don't be shy." Y/n grabs the back of her head and guides her in closer.

Jenna places a hand on each of Y/n's thighs, unintentionally spreading them wider.

"Ooh, I knew you'd be an eager one."

Jenna looks up at her for more reassurance. Y/n's clit was dying to be touched, of course she was going to nod her head in encouragement.

"Touch me like you would touch yourself."

Now that's something Jenna knows all about. The only difference is that she's never been face to face with herself, but still she's trying -- she's come too far not to work hard.

"Oh fuck!"

Y/n nearly melts when Jenna presses her thumb against her clit. She's slow to start but very nimble as she massages the bundle of nerves. Y/n's fortitude slips a little as pleasure takes precedence over her game.

"Just like that," she whines in the most needy way.

The praise made the younger girl move her thumb faster and harder against Y/n's clit. Hearing her moan and watching her writhe made Jenna feel so much bolder. The older, meaner Y/n was mewling like a kitty cat for her. Jenna can feel Y/n's clit pulsing against her thumb and if it was up to her, Jenna would make her cum. Y/n, however, has other plans. She pulls Jenna's hand away from her sex. One look into each other's eyes and Jenna knows what Y/n wants. She pulls Jenna's hand away from her sex. One look into each other's eyes and Jenna knows what Y/n wants. She presses her face into her sex, her tongue not hesitating to dive into Y/n's warm cunt. She feels her head engulfed in Y/n's plush thighs before they're pulled away. Y/n has to tame herself because she wants to see Jenna's pretty face between her legs.

'First time my ass.'

Y/n can't help but be impressed by how good Jenna is doing. She licks her a little sloppily but the enthusiasm is welcomed. In fact she was eating her like she had been starved. She figured Jenna was repressed, but not this much.

Her tongue slides through her folds to collect her arousal. Every few seconds her tongue swipes past Y/n's opening and then back up to her clit. Y/n's legs tremble in excitement every time her clit is teased. She sort of edged herself by making Jenna stop earlier but she's feeling the insatiable need to release bubbles in her belly again. The purpose of this was to make Jenna kneel, but now her wet tongue is dragging Y/n down to her level. Both are hungry for pleasure.

Y/n pushes the stray hairs out of Jenna's face so it's not obscured. Jenna just looks so much prettier in between her legs.

"You're not so bad at this, Jenny."

It's hard to sound condescending towards someone when they're making you shiver with pleasure. Y/n can feel her clit pulsing against Jenna's tongue. She feels the fire in her belly as Jenna keeps going. There's something so sexy about how determined she is. Y/n can see how desperate she still is for approval deep in her eyes. Y/n begins to fantasize about what it would be like to take Jenna in different ways. She'd love to watch her tits bounce as she rides her strap. She can already imagine what her moans would sound like. The thoughts help drive Y/n over the edge and she cums against Jenna's tongue.

She feels a little bad that she can't control how her hips buck in pleasure. Like the newbie she is, Jenna doesn't hold onto Y/n's hips to control her. Instead she lets her mouth detach from Y/n's pussy. It's too bad because she already misses the taste of Y/n on her tongue. Jenna does her best not to seem so desperate, but her words betray her.

"W-Was that good?"

Y/n doesn't say anything, she just laughs.

"Come here."

Jenna listens, standing to face her boyfriend's sister. Y/n takes in her appearance; she looks a bit of a mess. Her bikini top somehow got fucked up in the process and exposes one of her nipples. Her chin is wet, and Y/n doesn't know if it's her own cum or if it's water from the Jacuzzi. Curiosity makes her desperate to know. She leans forward and kisses Jenna on her soft, pink lips. She feels Jenna stiffen from the unexpected kiss. When she pulls back Jenna looks like she's stuck on stupid.

"It was alright," Y/n lies. "I guess, good enough for you to deserve this."

Jenna furrows her brow in confusion until Y/n presses her body against hers and slips her hand down her bikini bottoms. A groan instantly escapes her mouth when she feels Y/n's hand press against her clit. Similar to earlier, Jenna's thighs wrap around Y/n's hand but unlike Y/n she doesn't draw back. She becomes this feral little thing who grinds herself against Y/n's hand. Y/n can't help but laugh at her again. She wasn't laughing to be mean or make her feel bad, no, she was loving this.

"When was the last time you came?"

"A m-month ago."

"Figures."

It was surprising that Jenna could still speak. There was a difference in how Y/n handled her and how Jenna handled Y/n. Y/n is used to this and it shows. She truly doesn't know much about Jenna, but she knows how to pick her apart. Y/n kisses her shoulder while she rubs her clit a little more faster now. Her hand was sticky with Jenna's arousal. She places one more kiss to her shoulder before she bends over to take the one exposed nipple in her mouth. Jenna throws her head back in ecstasy, and if it wasn't for Y/n pinning her to the wall of the jacuzzi she wouldn't be able to stand up.

"It feels like you're going to cum already."

Y/n slips two fingers inside of Jenna just to feel her walls pulsating against her. Jenna lets out a moan louder than she's ever heard from herself before. Y/n keeps sucking on her nipples while rubbing her sweet spot. Jenna feels like her senses are going to overload from all the pleasure. No one has given her body this much attention at once and it's a sad reminder for why she didn't really care about cheating on her boyfriend in the first place, with his sister no less.

Jenna is still too shy to vocalize how good Y/n is making her feel, but her moans tell the story for her. Y/n loves hearing every little whimper and groan that comes from her mouth. She can tell how close Jenna is just by the sounds. She pushes her fingers in deeper and curls them to massage her sweet spot. That has Jenna seeing stars and cumming on her fingers in seconds.

"Fuck!"

It's probably the first time Y/n has heard the girl cuss, and it sounds so delicious. She was so loud, neither of them caring about possibly getting caught. However, once both of their dazes of pleasure seemed to subside, they realized if they were to get caught like this it would be very ugly.

Y/n pulls her fingers out of Jenna's pussy and dips her hands in the water to wash them off.

"This never happened. Okay?"

Surprisingly it was Jenna who was trying to cover her bases. Y/n can see the worry in her eyes about this little moment between them ever being found out. She nods her head in agreement, and before she can say anything, Jenna is getting out of the jacuzzi. She's probably embarrassed because she didn't even say goodbye to Y/n. Y/n just watches her scurry away, bikini top still messed up and tracking water throughout her parents room. Y/n sighs, wondering why she always gets caught up with the odd ones. That's just life, she guesses.

——————————————————

This weekend really seemed to drag itself out and Y/n can't think of one moment where she was really able to totally relax.

Her parents came home shortly after she got out of the Jacuzzi, and Isaac was home an hour later. Of course her parents wanted to have some sort of family game night and Y/n was subject to 5 whole rounds of charades.

Not a single word was spoken between Y/n and Jenna for the rest of the trip. Isaac had his suspicions that they must've gotten into some sort of fight while everyone was gone because Jenna wouldn't even look at Y/n. He tried to ask Jenna about it but she was dismissive of him and just said she stayed in his room the entire night. Only did she partially tell the truth when he found her wet bikini in her room.

"I was in the jacuzzi and then she kicked me out. That's it. You're sister doesn't like me and I'm fine with that. I just want to get this weekend over without any problems."

It was funny seeing her little brother be so clueless to everything. Y/n loves him to death, but he's so shitty dealing with girls that she can't be surprised that one decided to cheat on him. She may be going to hell for allowing the situation to happen, but at least she had fun.

Just a few hours before she heads back to her apartment, she goes to the kitchen to find everyone else. Instead she just sees her mother there alone.

"Where's Isaac?"

"They left an hour ago."

"Oh, I was going to say goodbye."

"Really? It doesn't see like you really enjoyed your weekend with him or his girlfriend."

"That's not true, mom! I thought Jenna was alright."

"Isaac said you two got into a fight while we were gone."

Y/n pauses for a few seconds. Did Jenna say something? She left no love marks on her so he couldn't be insinuating that they got into a physical fight. Y/n was cautious as she spoke next.

"No we didn't! We even shared the jacuzzi for a little while. She's a little annoying, but after that I found her to be okay to be around."

Y/n's mother eyes her for a bit. She used to know her daughter so well, but after a few years away from home, her poker face is too hard to read.

"Well, I guess I'll overlook the fact that you two were using my jacuzzi which is only supposed to be for your father and I."

"C'mon mom, you know that is the worst kept secret in this house."

Y/n's mom sighs in defeat. There is something else to the story, but there's no use in pushing Y/n to say more. In a few more months they'll all be reunited again for Isaac's summer break, and Y/n's month-long visit. If they're still dating by that point then Jenna will tag along with Isaac too. It's something Y/n's mom is now apprehensive about, but Y/n is secretly looking forward to it. Hopefully her brother doesn't screw anything up so she'll be able to see Jenna again. Maybe next time they'll be able to enjoy each other in other ways.

"And you never know, mom, Jenna and I could end up being really good friends someday."

#jenna ortega/reader #jenna ortega smut #f/f #f/f smut #f/f fanfic #smut #lesbian fanfic #*infidelity #*oral #*fingering #*titplay

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lightningant · 22 days ago

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Why's Jeverus and Prongsfoot so rare as James centric enemies to lovers and friends to lovers ships? I never thought about it till now.

Community, timing, style of shipping.

Prongsfoot got a lot of its framework in book 5, two and a half years after book 4, where Wolfstar was already locked in (after being so strongly established in book 3). James was dead and had a wife already, while Wolfstar was alive, single, and living together. Even upon reading in full in current day, Wolfstar is going to be the first thing for one to react to as the first pair of adult men the same age we're meant to root for.

Jeverus didn't lock in until book 7, at the very end, where we learn the bullying was sexual jealousy and there was a mutual obsession at play here. Snape's involvement in Lily gave him guaranteed proximity to James, who is fixated on him because he's standing next to Lily and is ugly about it...You know. Also, most fans start out strongly disliking Snape, and it's a crapshoot on whether the procession of the story is enough to change their minds. For people who do like Snape, their affection often begins because they find the bullying so horrible, so they're not going to give him to James. The 3rd faction is Alan Rickman fans, who prefer to use a character who functions as reader insert to romance him as their own personal Heathcliff.

So the fandom is rapidly approaching 30 years old. Often, you'll find a fandom has common ships where everyone just ships it out of a compulsive need to participate with others. Even after the tendency dies down and other ships gain prominence, you'll still see vestigial trends. Wolfstar gained fucking immortality. Why would you break up Wolfstar and Jily, the Best Ships? They're all paired up!

Do you remember ship wars? Because I remember ship wars. Your cast being neatly paired up used to be best case scenario. Nowadays people don't even use "OTP".

Not to mention they're teenagers and Harry is born a mere 3 years post-grad, so a lot of the most popular enemies to lovers tropes have almost no room to breathe. Sooooo much Drarry is post-war, I remember being on FFnet before the books finished coming out and it was still so much post-war. In the MIDDLE of a war? When James is married weirdly young? Doth our angel CHEAT? IN A WAR?

It's important, then, that Jegulus was a bunch of brand new fans taking the piss. There became a community of taking the piss. Good fics happened. They chatted about their joke fic getting good fics. Everyone wants to be in on the joke. Community is formed. When asked "what's a good gay ship for my boy James", their instinctive reaction will be "well I'm in on this little joke..." I like to lurk on Marauders fandom like an anthropologist and they're doing this exact process to Gilderat right now.

Not to mention Regulus characterization is reconstructed to fit the circumstances; he's a quiet black cat softboy who's beautifully tortured, and he's often presented as a brief relationship James has before Lily, as Lily doesn't date him until like, 6th/7th year, so we got a cross-section of "best friend's brother" trope, black cat/golden retriever, tortured Slytherin boy, sports rivals (seeker/chaser), forbidden love, breakup angst, Regulus isn't related to Lily at all so their wires don't get crossed, and Regulus isn't publicly a friend of James so it's actually possible to cleanly break them up so Jily can function.

Most importantly, people actually like Regulus, and Regulus is 1000x more susceptible to Draco in Leather Pants characterization than Snape, who's glazing trends towards the gothic and byronic, not the dark academia sensitive flower having a moral crisis. It's a very lovingly set playground, and steals attributes from other ships to make a more generically appealing whole vs the other two James dynamics going on here. People accuse Regulus of stealing Snape's personality, but in reality he is stealing a truly galling amount of Sirius' tropes (everything BUT his personality), and honestly I think people underestimate the dramatic potential of Regulus being the one malding over James dating the brother who he hadn't been able to connect with, because the malding is utterly hopeless, and the tragedy hurts worse, and the Wolfstar hits like a home run when Lupin is the dick grayson or whatever the hell that guy from ATYD's name was in this relationship picking up the pieces.

Can I say bad taste? I'll also say bad taste.

#asks #you must also remember snupin was the OG of the once-tiny marauders era fandom before book 5 re-calibrated it all.#i willingly consumed marauders content (which i didnt like) to access more snupin until snirius knocked my head off my shoulders #i dont like remembering this was like 18 years ago because it turns me into the cryptkeeper.

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witchywithwhiskey · 8 months ago

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Only one bed professor Steve 😳

ohhhh ok so only one bed professor steve rogers was actually a fic i started for a challenge way back in February, based almost entirely on the cevans look in the above gif. i knew about halfway through writing it that it was going to be too long for the challenge's word limit, so i rushed the ending and shelved it.

the set up is basically that steve and reader are both professors in the writing department of the same university, but while steve is a world-renowned literary novelist, reader is a romance novelist who writes under a pen name for fear of losing her position with the university (because she writes erotica basically) so reader HATES steve because he has more prestige recognition whereas she has to hide her success. so it's enemies to lovers + only one bed 😈

but the story starts when they're both attending the same academic/literary conference and because they're going as representatives of their university, they're put up in the same hotel room—buth there's only one bed. and throughout the weekend, reader starts to realize steve isn't as bad as she thought...

i really really really love this fic idea, but the first draft is a mess and i know it's going to take a lot of effort to edit so i just haven't gone back to it, but i will!!!

anyway, here's a little snippet from the first morning after sharing a bed together 🤭

You weren’t sure if it was a conscious decision on Steve’s part, but your colleague didn’t return to the room by the time you were ready to go to bed. You took advantage of having the room to yourself, taking your time as you went through all the steps of your skincare routine. If Steve was going to make you scowl and grimace so much, it was more important than ever.

When you were done, you changed into a silky nightdress and set about building a wall of pillows in the center of the bed. It occurred to you that Steve might need more room, considering he was bigger and broader than you, but it secretly delighted you to have plenty of room to stretch out on your side of the bed while he might be a little cramped. Once you were done, you slipped beneath the blankets, read for a little while, then finally turned out the light and went to sleep.

You woke in the morning a little while before your alarm, feeling like you’d had the most restful sleep outside your own bed. Maybe even in your own bed. As your surroundings slowly came back to you, you felt a warm, heavy weight shift around your waist.

You were clinging to a pillow, your body wrapped around the plush softness, your arms cradling it against your chest. Another pillow was wedged between your thighs, pressed tightly against your core through your panties. Your fingers brushed against something warm and hard, and when you opened your eyes, you realized Steve was wrapped around you and the pillow you hugged from the other side of the divider you’d constructed the night before.

A giggle caught in your throat at the perfectly imperfect sight of Steve sleeping. His mouth was open, rumbling snores spilling from it freely, and a little trail of drool dripped from the corner of his lips to the pillow beneath his head. Your body shook from the effort it took to hold back your laughter, and the weight on your hip shifted again. Suddenly, your laughter evaporated as you realized it was his arm, slung around your waist in his sleep.

thanks for playing my WIPs ask game!!

#molly answers asks #wip ask game #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #fic teaser #biteofcherry #professor steve rogers

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lodeddiperactivate · 2 years ago

Text

I hate you more! | Rodrick Heffley x Reader

Author's note: So not sure if people still read Rodrick Heffley fics but I had this idea (and could not find something similar that's already written) where the reader decides to sabotage Rodrick from getting it on with Heather. Reader is at the top of the highschool food chain and is friends with Heather, but hates Rodrick so she sabotages him. A classic enemies to lovers!

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

You feel like you've been living a double life. You get straight As because, well, your allowance is tied to your grades. But what most people don't know is that you typically sneak out at night to hang with your boyfriend. Well, ex-boyfriend. You smoke, you party, you skip town without your parents ever knowing. But during the day, you looked like someone who goes to church every Sunday. In fact, you're quite impressed at how you're handling this double life. You learned, at a young age, that all there is to life is observing the people around you, and using those observations to your advantage.

Well, you thought to yourself, it's time to test these theories all over again as you move into a new town, new school, new classmates, and new friends. Unfortunately for you, your new neighbor doesn't seem to grasp the idea of a nice and quiet Sunday morning. You decided to pay them a visit, and maybe remind them that their garage isn't soundproof enough for the noise coming out of it.

You walked up to the door and gave 3 loud and firm knocks, waited a couple of seconds until you hear footsteps.

You expect the mom to open the door, which is why you brought cookies as a means to be a good new neighbor but you were greeted by a tall and dark-haired guy with eyeliner. He eyed you up and down in frustration before landing his gaze on the plate of cookies in your hand.

"What do you want?"

You forced yourself to be civil. "I just came here to give you cookies. We just moved in next door when I heard this sound coming from-"

"Yeah yeah, thanks for the cookies!" And with that, he slammed the door in your face. The audacity! You scoffed and started to walk away. The noise had not died down, and you walked away not believing how rude and ill-mannered your new neighbor was. God, if it means hearing this noise every weekend, you might beg your parents to move again.

First day of school. You were pretty confident with your social skills so highschool is a cake walk for you. Living a double life means you ought to know how to act in certain situations.

First period. You were introduced to the whole class. Your introduction was amazing. Everybody loved you. You had come into that room, dressed to impressed, and you even cracked a joke that made everyone laugh. Well, everyone except for your neighbor who's in all of your classes by the way. He was too busy talking about his band to basically anyone who's not deaf. What's worst is that you're sitting behind him.

Because of your peak social skills, you were sitting with Heather that day for lunch and apparently, they're at the top of the highschool food chain so that works for you too. You also learned that your neighbor, Rodrick, obviously had a crush on Heather. Since you sit behind him, and Heather sits beside him, you have observed all of the tell-tale signs that he's desperately in love with her. You smirked at the idea, and the endless possibilities of making his life a living hell.

School bell rang and everyone hurriedly packed their belongings. Heather asked if you wanted to go to the mall. You agreed and she told you to meet her upfront. Rodrick obviously heard this, and based from his expression, he was surprised that Heather and you are that close already. When everyone had left the room, you called out to Rodrick to set your plans of destroying his life in motion.

"Hey"

"Heyyy," he asked, curious why you were talking to him after he slammed the door in your face. He decided that it would be nice to at least be on your good side since you're friends with Heather so he started with an apology, "Listen, about what happened, I'm sorry but Sunday is the only time I can practice with my band. It's hard work, you know."

You smirked at his half-ass apology but mostly because you can see right through him, but you had a mission, "Oh don't worry about it! Actually, I wanted to tell you that Heather has a message for you."

As soon as you mentioned Heather's name, it was like something inside him had turned on. "Yes?"

"She's too shy to tell you this herself but she kinda has a crush on you. But she can't be too obvious because you know, in dating, guys make the first move, right?"

"Yeah," he said trying to comprehend every word you just uttered.

"Yes, so she doesn't want to go out with someone who did not officially ask her out. You know?"

"Yeah!" He said again as if he had solved a puzzle in his head.

"Okay, so tomorrow at lunch, why don't you "officially" ask her out?"

"Yeah?"

Jesus. You couldn't comprehend how slow this moron is in front of you. You were practically spoon-feeding him. You decided to repeat what you said just to make sure he gets it.

"Tomorrow. At lunch. Ask Heather out?"

"Yes. Okay, I can do that." He said trying to hype himself up.

You walked away feeling good about your plan when you decided to add one final touch to it. You looked back and called out to Rodrick.

"Oh, and don't forget, Heather looooves grand gestures!"

#diary of a wimpy kid #rodrick rules #rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley fanfic #rodrick heffley fluff #rodrick heffley x you #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley x y/n #loaded diper #devon bostick #I hate you more

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nsharks · 1 year ago

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bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part twelve —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: *hint at sexual assault. please be cautious!* death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. 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.

Dense mud packs onto the soles of your boots. You shift the near-empty backpack on your shoulder and slip back a few sweat-laced strands of hair from your face. Never before were you a morning person. In fact, you used to purposely sign up for all the afternoon lectures in uni. But now, time and sunlight are precious. You set out to search for the camp this morning with only a sliver of sunrise as your companion.

You hope Ghost was right.

He suspected that their camp would be situated in a location with easy access to the military base, river, and nearby village so they could draw resources from all three. So that's the direction you're headed in, squinting at nearby landmarks and interstate signs to help guide you. It's quite the hike: grueling, hilly terrain and moist air that you can't distinguish from your own sweat. You've stepped over some interesting sights along the way. An old forest station with CAMP FEES and LEAVE NO TRACE posters still outside. A small skeleton tucked in a bush with only child-sized rainboots left on it. For a moment, you saw Joseph. Toddling around in the puddles outside your sister’s house. You had to force yourself not to look at it for too long; you wiped your eyes, gritted your teeth, and prayed it had been painless for them.

You come to a narrow creek, crossing over a stone bridge that spits you out among dense evergreens. Finally, a faint column of smoke comes into view just above the forest's canopy.

That must be it.

It's certainly a sign, so you suck in a shaky breath, ignore the rush of blood in your veins, and do what Ghost suggested: climb a tree to get a better look.

There was a time not long ago when climbing trees was your only means of survival. This time, it feels so much easier to hoist yourself up and grip the bark as your muscles flex to steady yourself on a high branch. Luckily, there wasn't much to bring in the backpack Ghost gave you. For now, there's nothing in it other than your lighter, a roll of gauze, that romance book, and a small piece of dry wood.

Squinting your gaze, you make out the silhouette of triangular, orange tents and uneven fencing. Definitely a camp. The fence doesn't appear barbed from here, but it's at least a meter higher than the one that surrounds Ghost's place. You're close enough to see a few blue crates in the center that look like those ones from the military medical site. Is that what they're keeping the supplies in? It seems like the only obvious place based on the layout.

What you really want to know is how many people. Soundlessly, you shift your boots to get a different angle and finally spot movement coming out of one of the tents— a sizeable male wearing a leather jacket.

One.

Is that it?

Your eyes stay locked on the stranger for a minute, tracking his movement as he cooks something over the fire. He gives out a long whistle, the high-pitched sound audible even from where you stand nestled in the treetop. Panic seizes your breath: did he somehow see you and is alerting someone else? But no— you're much too far, and his eyes never shifted in your direction.

Instead, there's more movement, the faint shuffling of paws on the ground, and then a large dog appears at the man's side. He tosses something in front of it, what must be a slab of meat, because the dog is quick to start chowing down with the enthusiasm of a mindless Grey.

"Fuck me," you whisper to yourself, fingertips splintering against the bark. "Couldn't prepare me for that, huh, Ghost?"

The plan he instructed you with is fairly simple and straightforward— you'll just have to stick to it and be mindful of the additional obstacle. You've survived much worse even just a few days ago, so with that in mind, you slip down the column of the tree and purposefully backtrack your steps, gaining a bit more distance between you and the camp.

You need a ruse, something to draw the man out for enough time for you to grab the ammo. Ghost told you to bring the book to help get a fire started since the twigs and leaves here are damp after the storm, so you find a good spot and start ripping out the pages, crumpling them up. You arrange the piece of wood and paper in such a way that you have a minute or two before the smoke really gets going. You pull out your lighter from the pocket of your jeans, start it, and then head back towards the camp, this time going around so you can approach it from the side.

You keep your footsteps as light as possible while moving quickly. Once the man notices the smoke and leaves to scout it out, your timer starts. There's another whistle followed by a gravelly bark from the dog. You sneak close to the side of the fence, pausing behind a tree, just when you catch a glance of the stranger shucking a rifle over his shoulder and exiting out the gate. He shuts it behind him with a series of padlocks.

It won't take him long to find the source of the smoke and realize it's nothing, so you muster all your strength and begin climbing the fence, rusty links digging into your palms. You try to do it without making much noise, but the moment you jump down with a thud, the dog's head snaps in your direction. It begins to growl, flashing thick canines under its bloodied muzzle. You break out into a sprint toward the blue crates, but it crosses the span of the camp in mere seconds, clamping down on your forearm before you can even begin to look for the ammo.

The pain is white hot. You silently cry out as the dog shakes its head, tearing through the fabric of your coat and the tissue of your muscle.

"Fuck."

You tug at your arm, but it doesn't let go. Remembering the piece of squirrel meat you brought as a snack, you dig it from your pocket and wag it in front of the dog's face.

"Come on, let go— please."

It's enough to catch his attention, the bite on your arm loosening once you toss the meat a few meters away and he follows it. You clutch your arm with a ragged breath, ignoring the blood and pain that radiates from it.

The squirrel can only distract him for so long, so you urgently flip open the lid of the first crate. Staring back at you is a mix of what appears to be severed limbs and various animal parts. The pungent smell floods up your nose. You instantly clamp the lid back down, fighting the urge to vomit, and move on to the next one.

Ammo.

Plenty of it.

Without a second to waste, you sling off the backpack and begin stuffing it with the cardboard packs of cartridges, hoping it's the kind Ghost needs. When you tug the zipper closed, a decision pops into your brain: to keep looking through the other crates for medicine, or to get the fuck out of there. You take a millisecond too long to think about it because suddenly, you notice the dog from the corner of your eye, done with the meat and moving towards you with another throaty growl.

You tug the heavy backpack on and make a beeline for the closest side of the fence. In the panic, you fail to notice the creak of the gate opening until you are stumbling into a hard chest. A strong hand wraps around your bicep.

Fuck.

He's back.

This is it, then.

"Rocky— sit."

The growling behind you ceases. A whole new fear washes over you as you blink up at a rugged face. The stranger uses his other hand to take hold of your jaw, hard enough that your teeth are forced to grind together. In a heart-pounding silence, he inspects you, bluntly looking you up and down. Then, he takes out a knife and presses it to your neck. Your throat bobs against the icy metal.

"Fucking bitch," he mutters. "Start a fire to try and steal from me?"

"N-no!" Your brain reels for a lie. "No— I don't know what you're talking about. I-I came here looking for help."

"Try a better lie, sweetheart."

"I mean it," you stammer, holding onto the fact that he hasn't slit your throat yet. Raw desperation speaks for you. "My… my friends are gone. Someone attacked us a few days ago and killed them. I've been alone ever since and then I found your camp, hoping someone would be here to help me."

This seems to grab his attention. Dark eyes narrow. It's now you realize he's quite young, maybe in his thirties.

"Someone attacked you, huh? Who?"

"Um, some guy. I don't know. I didn't get a good look at him because he was… he was wearing a mask."

"So some guy killed all your friends by himself?" When you slowly nod, cringing at your terrible story, his jaw flexes. "I've lost my friends, too. They went out on a hunting trip three days ago and haven't come back."

"Oh. I'm sorry," you lie, swallowing. "So you… so you believe me?"

"I believe your friends are dead. I don't believe you didn't start that fire to distract me."

His words make your heart race. Again, his eyes trail down, and the knife follows, lowering to the floral fabric of your blouse and popping open one of the buttons.

"Take it off," he suddenly orders.

"W-what?"

"The shirt. Take it off. Let me decide if I should kill you or keep you."

You put on a brave face and do as he says, not given much room to protest despite the sick feeling that twists your gut. You drop the backpack, half-inclined to swing it at him, but then what? There is no way you can take him in a fight, especially since he's armed with a knife and gun, and there is no Grey this time to help you out.

The coat falls to the ground at your feet before you shakily undo the buttons of your blouse, wincing from the movement of your bitten arm. Crisp air greets your bare skin. Your nipples tighten uncomfortably and his gaze darts right to them, intensifying the churn in your stomach.

He gives a low whistle. "Lucky me."

Your nails jab crescents into the palms of your hands. "Am I… am I worth keeping, then?"

He bears a sick, toothy smile. "Pretty for a thief," he confirms. "Haven't seen someone so pretty in a few years now." His eyes flash to your arm and he reaches to grab it, making you choke. "Hell, Rocky. You gave her an ugly bite, though. Might get in the way of what I have in mind for you."

Half-naked, you are dragged by the arm to one of the blue crates. He slips the knife into his pocket in order to search through it. You notice pills, liquids, and a single glass bottle of what appears to be clear alcohol, which he pulls out along with a cloth.

"Tell me your name," he says, forcing you to sit down on a folding chair. "Before I enjoy you.”

You tell him quietly.

With an eery gentleness, he sits across from you and dabs the bite with some alcohol. The sting is immeasurable, but you roll your eyes to the sky and silence yourself. The feel of his cold, calloused fingers makes you imagine how they would feel touching other parts of your body. You need to think of something quick before he gets the chance to. He still has the gun on him, and the only knife you brought is in the jacket on the ground. Your eyes flicker to the bottle, which he set down by the leg of his chair.

"What's your name?" you ask, looking back at him.

"Leo."

"So, um, Leo— how did you end up here?"

"I was a new recruit in the military when shit started five years ago," he explains idly, fixated on your arm. "Stationed at the base nearby."

"I saw medical tents there," you mutter, clearing your throat. "Did you help with that?"

He chuckles. "For all of a day until some buddies and I decided to take what we could and leave. There was no point in trying to help people. We figured that out pretty quick."

"Oh. Were those the buddies who haven't come back?"

He nods. "I'm sure they're dead by now. But, one good thing is," he reaches for the gauze, sniggering lowly, "—that means I don't have to share you."

As he begins to unwrap the gauze, you decide he’s distracted enough. It happens in one, urgent motion. You clasp the alcohol bottle by the neck, arch it above his head, and thrust it down. The glass shatters, drenching him with alcohol and blood as a piece slices open his forehead. He immediately drops the gauze and hisses in pain.

"Bitch," he snarls. "I'm going to fucking kill you!"

He leaps to his feet and pulls the knife out again. As he does, you dig the lighter out of your pocket and ignite a flame, bringing it to his soaked shoulder. Instantly, fire flashes up his neck and face in hues of orange and blue, even catching your wet fingertips. It renders him blind as he howls and tries to swing at you, but you immediately run away, rubbing your burned hand against your jeans.

You grab your discarded clothes and backpack before flinging open the crate with medicine in it. You begin stuffing as many bottles into the side pockets of the backpack as you can, breathing frantically.

"I'm going to kill you," he seethes again, and the firing of a bullet somewhere behind you means he must have grabbed his rifle.

But he still can't see, his eyes blistered by the flames that continue to lick his face. Each shot bites the ground as you heave the backpack on your shoulders and take off toward the fence.

The dog barks, louder and louder as he runs after you. You don't look back. You wad your clothes up in a ball and toss them over the fence to free up your hands. Then, you quickly climb up, the muscles in your face tightly clenched as the full backpack weighs you down.

You're too slow.

Teeth grab hold of your boot.

You're pulled back down, hands spreading out to break the fall.

In the mud, you wrestle beneath a snarling jaw, dirtying up your hair and exposed skin. This time, you don't hesitate to hurt the animal. You grab your lighter again and thrust the flame into the dog's eye, making it leap back with a pained squeal.

Freed, you scramble back up the fence.

You leap down. Grab your clothes

You can still hear him shouting as you run away, weaving through the thicket of trees. Only when the sound fades do you stop to catch your breath, sinking down against a tree and putting your clothes back on.

"Here."

A moan of relief escapes your lips the moment you shrug off the backpack and drop it at Ghost's feet. He crouches down, swearing under his breath when he unzips it and the ammo practically spills out. He grabs a few boxes, opening and inspecting them under the violet light of sunset. The walk back took you hours longer. You were almost tempted to sleep in a tree for the night, but the threat of Greys or any more strangers kept you going.

"Good. This is good, Twix." There's a hint of disbelief in his voice before he clears it away, zipping the backpack up. He stands and offers a lengthy look from your head to your boots. "How many were there?"

"Just one."

"Just one," he repeats, brow lifting. "And you look this roughed up. What happened?"

"There was a dog," you say dully, lifting your arm up to show him the bitemark in your sleeve. Beneath it, you already bandaged the wound, not wanting to draw attention to its scent. “Just a dog and a cannibal rapist guy."

"What?"

You shake your head. "Nothing. I'm going to sleep."

Before you can take a step past him, warm fingers latch onto your wrist. So warm. You inhale a breath, a burn of moisture lining your eyes.

“Please don’t touch me," you request in a harsher whisper than you intend.

You can no longer see the details of him with how bleary your eyes are, but you feel his touch disappear.

"What happened?" he asks again, voice lowering.

"Nothing. I got your ammo and I handled it. When can we leave?"

There is a pause before he responds as if he is debating whether or not to drop the subject. For now, he does.

"Tomorrow, hopefully."

"Good." The back of your hand smooths over your eyes. "Don't— don't forget our deal, Ghost. Promise me."

A firm nod. "I don't back out on my word."

As if to prove it, he shucks off the jacket and hands it over.

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #fanfiction #cod

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that-one-kiddo-in-the-back · 8 months ago

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The Forgotten Gays of Western Animation... apparently.

youtube

Tw Lily says the F-slur despite her having a problem with Q-slur and talks about incest... again.

Now I'm not from Canada, nor was I old enough to have seen these shows that she's talking about, meaning I have no choice but to assume she's telling the truth about these shows.

To get this out of the way. Lily, throughout the whole video, was also making jabs at people who like lore based shows how they're the ones who are ruining shows because she thinks people on Twitter have any power over what a creator does on the show I mean if that was the case then JK Rowling would actually shut up about her transphobic thoughts. To put it simply, people on Twitter with their egos don't have much or any power over a show their not a part of, not even the people who are in charge of drawing the frames. now a creator can see multiple people asking about the lore of the world they worked so hard on. Lore might not be important to Lily, but anyone who's worked on making a completely new world wants to talk about and show the lore of the world. To get a bit personal, one of my siblings is writing a book, and there are days they will talk about the lore for hours because they're proud of it.

Now. Lily is very much wrong about moving the goal post for LGBTQ rep. Moving the goal post for LGBTQ characters means we are highering our expectations for what's good rep and what's not. To keep that post in the same place would be doing more damage than good.

Personally, I think (if we have to) the goal post should stick where the owl house is as that's one of the few shows that doesn't really have straight ships, hunter x willow and amity's parents are the only straight cannon relationships (and that's straight in quotes BTW) and I only think that because I haven't seen any of the nickelodeon shows with LGBTQ rep.

Something lily really needs to understand is that CEOs and the men in suits have a huge say in what goes into shows, so most shows aimed at children that want LGBTQ rep have to fight to have it Steven universe and the owl house all had to fight to get the rep they wanted. The reason you didn't see much of ruby and sapphire is because they are always fused together in perfect harmony. Every permafustion in SU were in a healthy relationship and only unfused was when they need to play the part their made for or fighting she also needs to remember that SU had the FIRST same-sex wedding in a kid show. The owl house was already set to be canceled, so who cares if they have a main gay couple it's not like they were gonna see them for long anyway. To me, it seems that if the character isn't kissing, holding hands, or cuddling, then that's not good enough that the LGBTQ rep has to be the most perfect relationship and never show what a real relationship can be like i.e. sometimes unhealthy, one-sided, and unrequited.

Lily then goes through a really long rant about how we shouldn’t hold She-ra to such a high platform because of the incest and how abusive the relationship was... completely forgetting that catra was the scapegoat while adora was the golden child. Both were in an abusive relationship with their perennial figures, with catra getting the brunt of it. Catra and adora are friends to enemies to lovers. Just because you wrote your incest story (scars, pokemadhouse) as some sort of coffee shop, AU, you think that you have any footing about complaining about catradora? Lily can't talk smack about adora and catra being technical sister when all of her fanfiction and even the books she reads aren't technical incest. It is incest. For all the mud slinging Lily does to She-ra, TLOK, and SU, you'd think the creators killed her family.

Also, I haven't heard of anyone saying that those slice of life relaxing shows that have the same rep as "not counting." In fact, people who like those types of shows have praised and really liked it, there's no one saying that shows with rep aren't valid just because there slow pace I've seen that's not valid because it's not good enough rep as in the LGBTQ character dies, doesn't get into a relationship, never get screen time, or how in Steven universe pearls love with rose is one sided and therefore pearl is an incel and "doesn’t count" funny enough all the complaints about rep not being good enough is from Lily herself. Steven universe doesn't count because you don't see enough, TLOK doesn't count because korra and asami didn't kiss as they walked into the spirit world, she-ra doesn't count because catradora is "fetishist towards abuse" and the list goes on.

Despite how much Lily praises Brace face for having a good gay character that wasn't the butt of the joke, he's still a stereotype, 6teen had one episode with a gay character and is never seen again, Lloyd in space had one Non binary character that in the end chose their gender and the main characters forcing gender norms on them. All of those in Lily's own words and past videos those shows aren't good enough.

No one has forgotten about the Canadian shows with LGBTQ characters their just not talked about, which is a shame. If I had seen these shows when I was struggling with my identity, it might have helped me deal with it better. As time goes on and millennials who grew up with the shows that said "its okay to be different and that just because you have no one now doesn't mean you will be alone forever." Begin to make their art. What was good then just isn't good now. Sure, those shows were ahead of their time, but now we are getting shows with better rep that don't need to use slurs or stereotypes.

#lily orchard #lily orchard critical #lily peet #lgbtq community #lgbt pride #the owl house #tw inc*st #lgbtq representation

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jxngs · 9 months ago

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FUUBUTSUSHI | 風物詩 — 2

· . ༄࿔ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: Snow whispers softly, Blind eyes in winter's embrace, Curse king's frozen game.

⤿ or in which a blind girl is forced to play shogi with the king of curses.

Sukuna / Ryomen Sukuna | Original Female Character(s)

Tags: Slow Burn × Size Difference × Heian Period × Romance × Violence × Enemies to Lovers × kind of lol × Canon-Typical Violence × Betrayal × Disabled Character

[Ch. 1] | [AO3]

"Let's make a wager today."

Yukina felt excited about the idea. She was already having fun with the King, and he somehow made it even more interesting. Perhaps it would motivate him to try harder to win. If that's the case, so be it! She and Sukuna have been playing shogi for a while, and he was never close to winning.

Outside of playing, the young female didn't do much. Eat, play, eat, sleep. At first, she needed to be escorted by Uraume every time. It took her almost three days to memorize the paths that led her to her room, the kitchen, and the room where she played with the King. It wasn't his chambers; that's what she knew for sure.

She also met a couple of the servants and even one of the concubines so far. They didn't engage in conversation with her that much unless they had to directly interact with her. Even the concubine didn't bother with her once she found out that her stay was temporary.

Well, it's temporary until Sukuna wins.

If you asked Yukina, she'd tell you that her stay is permanent, given the way things are going.

Loss after loss.

It didn't matter to her, though. She was having fun.

"Sure! That'll be fun," she responded to him.

"If you lose, you'll have to give me your eyes as a keepsake."

Oh.

That was definitely one of the weirder bets she had; why would someone want something so useless? It didn't make sense to her at all. Perhaps if she saw some value in it, she would be weirded out by the whole idea rather than being confused.

"You can just take them," Yukina said a few seconds later.

"You want me to take them now?" Sukuna asked incredulously.

Isn't that what he wanted...? Did she misunderstand his words?

"It's not like I use them." She giggled—as if that's the most normal thing to say. "I usually wager with my life."

"Why would you? Are you that confident in your skills?"

"Well, once a shogi master loses, they're considered to be a normal human. And I..." Yukina gripped her kimono and tilted her head down, hiding her face. "I can't live with that."

The King was silent.

This pathetic human managed to catch him off guard every single time.

In his eyes, she was already a 'normal human', yet to see her think so highly of one board game to the point of losing her life over it... It's truly pathetic. So pathetic that he wanted to laugh. Laugh at how she was going to lose her life whether she wagered on it or not.

Yet, the way that she was willing to give up her eyes without any reason made him feel puzzled. Weren't humans oddly attached to their things? Whether it was a limb, a house, a wisdom tooth, or even a teapot they had only recently bought, they would never let go of it.

Yukina, on the other hand, offered them with no hesitation. Her body was relaxed, and she had her usual small, guileless smile gracing her face. Her demeanour didn't change at that, but the idea of losing her status as a shogi master disrupted her features.

Was it because it was the only thing she found value in in herself?

Sukuna couldn't handle it.

He couldn't handle how she was getting him to overthink. He couldn't handle how a young, disabled woman like her was willing to lose her life over something she valued when most people didn't do half of that. Sorcerers of all kinds had their pride, and they would never admit to such a thing.

His own pride wouldn't allow him to be less than her.

With a hand movement, his lower set of eyes was sliced, splattering blood on her and the floor.

"W-What?" Her timid voice stuttered.

Her slender fingers reached to her cheeks, trembling. Her seraphic smile no longer graced her face. She was scared. Terrified and confused.

And he loved it.

It made him think if she was the same when he attacked her hometown. Was she crying and trembling? Yelling for her father in broken words? Oh, she must've felt so lost and so confused.

Seeing her break like that reminded him of how human she is, after all.

Yukina was not an angel.

"King S-Sukuna," her voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "What happened?"

"Let's start the game." The King shrugged her off, already picking up a piece.

A bloody hand suddenly covered the board, hovering over it to not dirty it. Her pale complexion made the crimson red on her fingers pop more, and it made him wonder if it'd look just as good if her entire body was covered in it.

"No!" Yukina protested. "I-I don't know why you hurt yourself, but— but we're not playing till you treat it."

Sukuna chuckled at her. She didn't know that he had healed himself to stop the bleeding. She was just so dumb that it was entertaining him beyond his expectations.

Suddenly, she reached behind her head. Yukina started to untie her blindfold, though her movements were shaky. She then extended her hands with a thin, long piece of fabric resting on her palms.

"I don't w-want you to bleed more." She said.

His gaze flickered between her hands and face, his face blank and neutral. Did she really think that he was like her? It almost made him scoff.

Her eyes were shut, but he could see the concern and worry in her expression. It was as if she was pleading for him to take care of his self-inflicted wound. It had him pause for a second, but...

Sukuna took the blindfold from her; however, he held it in his lower left hand. He didn't take his eyes off her, and he could see her smile at him in relief.

"You're dismissed for today."

Yukina slowly nodded her head at him.

Was she upset?

It was painfully obvious how she wore her heart on her sleeve. Her lips were pouty while she started to tap the floor around, trying to find her white cane. The glowing halo around her dimmed, and she was mindlessly searching. He could hear how slow her heartbeat was compared to earlier.

Sukuna found himself puzzled by her again. He knew he should've taken it as it is. Yukina was a simple-minded woman who was overly trusting. Her intentions were clear, and she lacked the deceit that people had.

So, why couldn't he think of her in a simple way?

He took the cane that rolled away a bit far and handed it to her silently. Her head snapped up toward him, and it suffocated him.

"Thank you," she breathed out, gently grabbing it from him with a small bow.

She stood up from her place, leaning on the wooden pole for support. Her thick, white lashes rested comfortably against her skin as she began to walk out. The soft tapping filled the silence in the room. It had a rhythm and a specific pace, and it swayed from left to right.

Honestly, Yukina was obviously upset about how their playtime was cut short.

The only thing she looked forward to in her current days was her time with the King. She got to talk to him and explain sequences with ease, and over time, he began to indulge in her talks more and more.

Did she do something wrong?

Just as her mind was about to convince her of that, his voice rang through the room.

"What did you want in case you won?" he asked her.

Her tapping came to a stop, and she turned around to face him.

"I wanted... to visit the gardens here."

The King didn't say anything in return, and thus, her tapping continued.

Yukina walked through the halls with a quickened heart rate. The corners of her lips were tugging upwards, though it looked odd with the blood on her face. The King was an odd person in her eyes, but he was still kind nonetheless. She couldn't understand why he would injure himself so suddenly, or why he decided not to play with her for the day. She didn't sense any sort of negative emotions from his voice, so it wasn't like he was angry or upset, right?

Nonetheless, she hoped that things would be better tomorrow. Perhaps they'd wager on something again, but the consequences wouldn't end up like how it did today. Her request was tame in comparison to his: to visit the gardens or to lose her life. It didn't matter anyway. The outcome would always be the same.

She was so deep in her thoughts that she found herself already in front of her chambers. Sliding the door open, she stepped inside and closed it behind her. Since they didn't play a single match today, she had a lot of free time. The problem is she didn't know what to do. Yukina didn't have friends to chat with, and there wasn't really a hobby she could do while blind.

With a sigh, she sat down on her futon and placed her cane to the side. Her hands fiddled with her kimono sleeve in boredom as she thought of what she could do.

Back at her family's house, she would try to do embroidery in her free time since she could rely on her tactile senses for that. However, she didn't have anything to do so, and she'd need someone to sort out the colors for her first. It wasn't her place to ask the King for such a thing either.

Yukina decided to start braiding her hair. Normally, it'd be left down, reaching her mid-thigh, with her signature clip holding some pieces behind. Her hair was too heavy to be wrapped in a bun, so she would rather braid it instead.

Her nimble fingers were already threaded in her long locks, and she started to softly hum a tune to ease her boredom. From what she knew, no one lived in a room near her, so she didn't have to worry about being loud and annoying. It made her feel a lot more comfortable to do so.

Her fingers worked rhythmically, weaving strands of her hair together with practiced ease. The gentle hum of her voice filled the quiet room, a melody that echoed softly off the paper walls. It was an old tune, one her mother used to sing to her when she was a child. The notes carried a sense of nostalgia, a comfort that eased the restlessness in her heart.

As the braid grew longer, Yukina found herself lost in the repetitive motion, her thoughts drifting like leaves on a calm stream. She wondered what the gardens looked like. She had never seen them, but she imagined them in her mind: the flowers would be hidden beneath the white, the trees bare and skeletal, yet there was a serene beauty in that stillness. She could almost hear the soft crunch of snow underfoot, the crisp air filling her lungs as she wandered through the frozen landscape.

A quiet sigh escaped her lips as she tied off the end of her braid. Yukina still continued to sing and hum, deep in her thoughts. The King had been strange today, stranger than usual. She couldn't shake the image of him, the way his voice had wavered when he spoke to her.

The King was a mystery, one she had yet to fully understand. But there was something about him, something that drew her in.

The hum of her tune faded, leaving her in a silence that was almost too loud. She wished she could see his face, read the expressions that she could only imagine. But all she had were his words, his voice, and the emotions she could sense but not see. It wasn't enough, and yet, it was all she had.

Her train of thought was cut short when she heard a knock on her door.

"Come in," she said, pushing her hair back.

The door slid open, and they entered. The footsteps sounded heavier and different from usual. Uraume was the only person who would visit her, often to give her food or clothes, but it didn't sound like them.

"... Who is it?" Yukina asked.

There was a pause, then.

"Your playmate." A familiar deep voice rumbled through her ears, but it sounded unusually close now.

Oh?

The King never visited her before. She didn't expect to hear from him until tomorrow.

She turned her body to face him, head tilted upward. It was amusing to see her 'gaze' on his torso rather than his face, but she was blissfully unaware.

"King Sukuna," she greeted him, shocked. "Can I be of any help?"

A large, calloused hand touched her cheek, and it made her flinch from the sudden touch. It always surprised her whenever people touched her suddenly; deep down, she didn't like it. She didn't show any of that, though.

His thumb ran over the same spot many times before doing the same on her other cheek. Yukina was frozen in place—cheeks red and hands gripping her clothes. What is going on?

"You didn't clean your face well." The King finally clarified to her once he pulled away. You can hear the amusement in his voice.

It made her cheeks burn more in embarrassment, and she said, "I didn't know. Thank you."

If she was able to see, she would've averted her gaze.

"Follow me." He said after a round of silence.

Yukina couldn't even process it until she heard him already walking away. She scrambled around to find her cane to quickly go after him, not questioning where he was taking her.

The walk was fairly silent until a small sneeze escaped her, her nose scrunched up. Another one rang through the halls before she was able to apologize. God, she hated it whenever she sneezed. It was common, and she had done it in front of the King multiple times already. She simply didn't know why it happened so much, but it was a lot worse during spring.

"Sorry," she mumbled, her ears pink.

He didn't say anything in response and continued to walk. It was hard for her to figure out where he was walking. Sometimes, she would end up going the wrong way, and she wouldn't know till she heard his footsteps start to fade away. If it wasn't for her actively thinking about it, she would've ended up lost.

Just as she was going to turn to the right, something tugged on her clothes from behind, and she was stuck in place.

"Huh—"

"Not that way." The King said with a flat tone.

"O-Oh!!"

Yukina stopped trying to walk forward and turned around to where he was. He still held on to the back of her kimono, and if he used a bit more strength, it would lift her up off her feet. It was similar to how a mother cat would hold her kitten. She felt too flustered and helpless to say anything. At least they didn't waste time because of her.

Soon enough, she heard him slide a door open and let go of her clothes. She smoothed it out the best she could, but her movements came to a stop when she felt cold air hit her face, blowing her hair away. Her hands came to a stop, and she gasped when she realized where they were.

"Woah~!" Yukina breathed out excitedly once she stepped out on the engawa¹.

In a second, she was already stepping off and walking around. Her steps were faster than normal, as she breathed in the crisp air. It was snowing, but she didn't care. All that mattered to her was how nice it was to feel it reach her body softly. The young woman was too mesmerized by the smells and sounds of nature to realize that he wasn't there with her.

Sukuna stood on the wooden porch, his face void of any emotion. His gaze rested on Yukina; he watched her from afar for a few seconds, then walked away. Humans were too boring and pathetic sometimes, and he couldn't bear to see it.

It was such a stupid request, and if it wasn't for her winning at a game of wits—unintentionally, he wouldn't have granted it.

If anything, his hatred for her grew more and more. And seeing her smile and blend in with the white-covered landscape further strengthened his hate. Sukuna hoped that she would accidentally die out there so the vow would be nullified. He would do anything to get her out of his face. To go and slaughter her village for binding him to a weak, dumb mortal.

Her innocence frustrated him beyond belief. How can someone be so ignorant and foolish to trust anything?

Despite being far from the garden now, he could hear her talking to herself. It took him a second to focus and realize that she thought he was still there, too.

Hah.

That made him laugh more than he had expected.

Yukina's mood was completely different from earlier—that was evident from how she excitedly talked about her surroundings. How she loved winter and its calmness. How the coldness in her lungs made her feel alive. How apparently everything was covered in white. She even asked him if that's true, but she was so into her rambling that she didn't think twice of his silence.

He heard her sit down and go quiet for a second.

Did she finally realize that she was alone? Oh, he would've loved to see her reaction to that.

Instead, she began to talk softly about how she wished she could see, and it made him stop in his tracks. Yukina had never brought that topic up before.

With curious ears, he listened.

She was so soft-spoken, but she didn't sound weak. It was as if she wasn't bothered by her disability as much as he thought she would be. She simply accepted it long ago, yet he could pick up on the yearning in her voice.

"I bet it's so pretty," she said. "I often long to see everything around me. The mountains and its rocks. The moon and its stars. Apparently, even the sun and its skies look pretty during sunset."

Sukuna couldn't recall the last time he paid attention to his surroundings. Or if he ever did.

"You know... My mother used to always say how she chose my name because I reminded her of the snow during winter."²

Yukina's words rang in his brain, and he remembered how she looked earlier. Her hair was braided this time, yet her front pieces fluttered and moved with the wind. Pink dusted her cheeks and nose, and her light blue kimono made her stand out even more. Her skin was so white it was a few shades away from matching the white fabric that covered her eyes.

For a second, it made him wonder what her eyes were like. Was it brown like the girls in their era? Or did it have that milkiness that some blind people have? Did they stand out with her white lashes?

The image of her twirling around under the falling snow kept relaying in his mind. It made his usually hot body drop in temperature, feeling the coldness grace his skin. Engulfing him and wrapping itself from behind.

She really did look like she was winter personified.

And he hated how he agreed with that. How he kept thinking of her.

With a sneer, Sukuna walked away. He was no longer interested in hearing her realize his absence.

Notes:

¹. Engawa: A covered corridor which runs around the outside perimeter of a building, similar to a porch.

². Yukina's name: The 雪 (yuki) in her name means snow.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x oc #sukuna x oc #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #heian era sukuna #jxng's work #sukuna ryomen

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stellar-constellations · 1 year ago

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omggggg i just reread your entire Yuri masterlist after seeing the previous ask! and i thought for a second...the way Yuri acted when yor and loid were about to kiss. how would he react if him and y/n were in a situation like that? i think he'll react like your 😭😭😭 just gulp down some wine and lean in, continuously thinking to himself that it's only to prove that they're a couple heheh

Wordcount: 1,100+ words

This can be read with or without reading my Yuri Briar x Fem! Spy! Reader series: An Alliance (part 1).

Beware! This fic DOES contain SPOILERS for the anime + manga and for the Yuri Briar x Fem! Reader series: An Alliance! Even if it's an alternate universe, there's still spoilers!

Setting is BEFORE the reader rejoined WISE (so the reader isn't a double-agent and Yuri and reader's relationship is developing).

The whole time Yuri and I have been at his sister's house, Yuri's been skeptical of Yor's relationship with Loid. I might have not known Yuri for long (I've known him for a day), yet I already know he's a pain in my ass. Yuri's suspicion of Yor and Loid's relationship could lead him down a rabbit-hole to where he accidentally discovers Loid's true identity as a spy, and that's not good! The peace between Ostania and Westalis is in grave jeopardy having Yuri and Loid in the same room, and it seems to be my own secret cover in jeopardy too.

"Yuri, if you want me and Loid to kiss so much, why don't you and (Y/N) prove you're married and kiss!" Yor exclaimed, her face red and embarrassed from her younger brother's inappropriate requests.

"...Huh?" Yuri voiced audibly, shocked at how this whole thing turned on him.

"Idiot..." I muttered to myself, resisting the urge to roll my eyes at this male's stupidity.

"W-what do you mean, Yor?! You want me to kiss her? In front of you?!" Yuri questioned, shocked as his face was red from all his drinking.

"Yes! You know, you never told me about your marriage too! That's very suspicious! If you want me and Loid to kiss, I want to see you and (Y/N) kiss!" Yor explained, a newfound determination on her face.

Yuri looked shocked while I felt sick inside. Kissing the enemy? I know I just became a SSS agent, but isn't this way too soon for a good old case of enemies to lovers?

I turned my attention to Loid, noticing the shocked expression on his own face. Yeah, it would be weird seeing the girl you grew up with and watched become a spy and a woman kiss some dude you've never met in your life. I would be weirded out too if Loid kissed Yor too (since I just met her).

"Yor, this is a little ridiculous. They don't have to kiss." Loid spoke, trying to calmly diffuse the situation as he looked at his wife.

"What? I'm asking Yuri to do the same thing he's asking us!" Yor spoke, then redirected her attention back to Yuri. "You don't want to be a hypocrite, do you, Yuri?"

Yuri looked to be fighting an internal battle. Reject his dear sister's request and become a hypocrite and possibly make her upset, or suck it up and give his fake-wife a peck on the lips. Yuri groaned, taking the bottle of wine.

"DAMN IT ALL!" he shouted, chugging the bottle, before slamming it back down on the table.

"Yuri, careful! You'll break the bottle—" I was cut-off as Yuri grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to turn my body to face him fully. "H-hey! What the—?"

"Yor said she wanted us to prove our marriage, so let's prove our marriage!" he spoke, his face burning red from how much alcohol he drank as he looked at me with a determined fire in his eyes.

Okay. This isn't so bad! I'm a spy—well an ex-spy—but I've kissed guys before during missions! Granted, it's never been on the lips, but maybe Yuri will pull one of those fake-out moves where you tilt your head just right to make it look like you actually kissed? Yeah! This won't be so bad!

Yuri didn't give me any time to prepare as he quickly smashed his lips against mine, shocking me and the other couple as he kissed me. He quickly pulled away, his face more red than a rose as he looked at me, looking almost a bit surprised at his own actions. We both stared at each other, silent before I realized there was still two other people in the room.

"Welp!" I clapped my hands, smiling as I tried to ignore my pounding heart and burning face from the aftermath of the kiss.

This is so embarrassing... My first kiss on the lips with whose real name I just learned today!

"There you have it, Yor! Me and Yuri are lovers!" I spoke, doing my best to keep my smile's corners from twitching.

"Um... yeah... You sure proved it..." Yor spoke, still baffled at the fact Yuri actually did kiss me.

Yuri looked like he was about to faint, whether from the fact he kissed me or from how much alcohol he drank. I decided it would be a good time to save everyone in this room the embarrassment and potential war disaster as I placed my hand on Yuri's knee (ignoring how he tensed up under my touch), as a gave him an indirect signal of "let's leave"

"It was wonderful meeting you, Yor and Loid! I'm sorry to cut off our time short, but Yuri and I have work in the morning and I want to make sure he gets home and ready for bed before he passes out." I excused, standing up from my seat as Yuri followed behind blankly.

"Y-yeah... Good seeing you too! Come visit soon!" Yor spoke, doing her best to have a smile.

I quickly grabbed Yuri and I's coats and suitcases, dragging him out to the car as I resisted the urge to think about our kiss.

"What was going on through your head?" I hissed.

"I don't know! I panicked!" Yuri slurred, his words messy from his alcohol consumption.

"Do you have any thoughts or is it just wine bubbles fizzing up there?" I questioned, annoyed.

"Hey, I said I panicked! I'm sorry!" Yuri pouted, his face still red.

"Give me the keys. You'll be lucky if I decide not to drive us over a bridge." I huffed, watching as he fished in his pocket for a solid minute before handing me his car keys.

I got him in the passenger seat and made sure he was buckled up, before getting in the driver's seat and driving away, listening to Yuri's terrible directions on how to get back home. Even though the kiss was under stupid circumstances, I do admit it was nice. His lips were strangely soft, and tasted tart and sweet (like the wine he drank). I suppose it wasn't all that bad, perhaps we'll have to prove ourselves again as a couple in the future. I might have to start training Yuri on how to fake a kiss, or maybe just reenact this again...

Thank you for requesting! I always love doing Yuri's requests, he's one of my favorites!

Want more Yuri Briar content? Check out the Yuri Briar masterlist!

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