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churipu · 3 months

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THE MOMENT THEY REALIZE THEY'RE IN LOVE ִ ࣪𖤐

featuring. gojo satoru, sukuna ryomen, itadori yuuji, toji fushiguro x reader

warnings. cursing, college! au, toji being a single father during his second term of uni (i searched that most japanese college uses 2 terms or trimester system / 3 terms, 1 term of uni in japan is around 15 weeks apparently) -> please tell me if i get this wrong.

note. omg, for the anons who have sent in requests to me, i apologize if these came out before your requests did, i'm trying to empty out my drafts :( but pls note that i am not ignoring your requests at all, it will be written, i promise <;33

GOJO SATORU

when he finds himself checking his phone countless of times, waiting for your message

i promise you, you both started out as work partners in one of your lectures. the two of you were complete strangers to each other — he doesn't know you, and you don't know him. but, either way, the two of you had to get to know each other because this was a crucial grade to pass this lecture.

gojo never thought about having feelings towards you, his work partner. he thought to himself, he'd just get this work done, pass this lecture, and never see you again.

but fate is a funny thing.

the way you made him feel like he wasn't just special because of his face, but his heart too. whereas most people in campus would consider him the pretty boy who could go head-to-head with the hottest celebrities — they just think of him as a pretty boy. and gojo would just go along with them, he gets used to it.

but you? you didn't consider him special at all. although, you did make him feel special the way other people can't.

gojo deep down, knows he was fucked up the moment he finds himself checking his phone to see if you'd reply to his messages, and when you do, he gets so happy. gojo was never a fast responder to everyone — because he practically receives the same kind of messages, "gojo hang out with us", "gojo go out with me", "gojo i like you".

but with you? he won't waste a second at all. even if sometimes you didn't reply as fast as he does, because you are a busy person in campus. you'll work on that after you both started dating, i promise.

SUKUNA RYOMEN

when you stood up for him when nobody would.

sukuna, how do i say this? not everyone is fond of him, people are scared of him — they talk shit behind his back, and don't dare to approach him. people dreaded when they have to be in the same group with him, despite the fact that he actually works; they still think he's a bad person.

"you guys are talking shit to a person who's in our group, if you want to say something to him, have the balls to say it to his face. and while he's here, why don't you tell him about it?" you tell the two people who were sitting beside you, who had been talking in whispers about how they were unlucky to be grouped up with sukuna.

and sukuna? he could honestly care less, he'd gotten used to those kind of things anyway. but when you actually stood up for him, he could only look at you with an amused smile.

he's definitely curious about you after that day — he has pride. and he'd never admit that he's actually pretty thankful that you, the first person to stand up for him, actually did what you did. because now people are a little terrified of being told off by you.

sukuna finally sucks it up at the end of the semester and tries to talk to you. yes, it took him the whole semester to talk to you, asking you for your number, and then thanking you for what you did because nobody has ever done that before to him.

ITADORI YUUJI

when you went all out to tutor him so he'd pass his lectures, teaching him patiently when he doesn't understand something.

yuuji hates studying. and when his lecturer asked you to tutor him, he feels extremely bad for you — he feels that he'd just going to waste your time tutoring him, when he knows that he's going to fail this one subject.

but when you reassured him, and encouraged him. saying that you will do anything to teach him so that he could pass, he gets a little emotional at the thought. you both were just mere classmates, and he barely knows you, vice versa.

when he doesn't understand a topic, he gets so frustrated at himself for not being able to understand it. but you, you were very patient with the male, reassuring him that you had the time to teach him over so that he will be able to understand the said topic.

and when he does finally understand, he gets so happy. he started looking forwards to your tutoring sessions, and like everyone said: if you enjoy something, it passes by quickly. and it's true, yuuji feels like time went by in a flash, and the exams soon started.

he passed with flying colors, he makes sure that you know about his grades — and points out that without you, he wouldn't be able to pass. yuuji, gets a little upset when he realizes that if the exams are over, you had no more tutoring sessions with him; which meant no more conversations.

so he has to ask you out right then, he didn't want to just return as mere classmates. he wanted to be more than that.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

when you didn't care about his shitty reputation of being a single father while still being on the second term of uni.

being a single parent is hard enough. not to mention, in university. not married, with a baby itself gets a lot of unwanted (negative) attention — toji, who once failed to get a babysitter on a weekday, and so he had to bring his eight month old son to class.

his son—megumi— was a calm baby, thankfully. the young one didn't cry or babble during lectures, and he just slept through it. toji was a little relieved to say the least, but ever since people find out about him being a single father to an eight month old baby, a lot of assumptions and words have gone around.

toji hated group works, especially when he has to pick the group himself. people didn't want a single father to be in their group, they assumed that the male would focus on his baby and ends up deserting the group work.

so when that particular day where he has to bring megumi to campus, strapped on a baby carrier on his chest. his lecturer just had to give out a partner work, and to add the cherry on top; the lecturer left the class to choose their own partner. so the male sat on his place, a pencil in between his nose and upper lip as he puckered them lightly — hearing his classmates choosing each other.

he figured that he could just do this and get the grade himself, solo. but when you came up and slipped into the seat next to him, he was of course surprised.

you asked him if he would like to partner up with you for this work, and after a few seconds, he accepted your offer.

toji knew it was getting bad when you didn't care about what people say about you getting close to him. just by choosing him for this work made your reputation falter a bit, and he was honestly ready for you to back out of the partner work.

but you didn't, and he knew it's bad for him, his feelings, and his heart.

the way you treated him and megumi like they're both normal (which they are normal humans), and the way you always make him feel included makes his heart race. sometimes, when he fails to look for a babysitter when you both are working for this project, you tell him he didn't have to since megumi is a calm baby.

he finds himself in awe when baby megumi plays with you during both of your little meet ups outside of class to do the project. he's in love.

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vriskabot · 1 year

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FINALLY FINISHED SOME ART FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MONTHS WOO!!!!

#text #original post #not posting it JUST yet because honestly #dailyvriskas has been Silent for about a year now #and i really REALLY wanna get it back up and running again #which will force me to take care of my drafts because there are SO many vriskas in there #so its a double whammy BUT its going to be.... A Lot......#ANYWAY all that aside!#if youre over 18 (preferably 21+) and youre interesting in drawing/being a mod on dailyvriskas lmk!#i can direct you to the application and all that good shit #IF i remember correctly the ''activity'' rule we had was like... one piece a week or something like that?#and not even a full finished piece it can literally just be a sketch #dont quote me on that though id need to look at the old server and im about to hit the sack so #anyway im fuckin rambling BYE

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sixosix · 4 months

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STAY, TOO | AETHER

desc you were afraid that aether would break your heart, but that all flew out the window the moment he got sick and demanded only you take care of him

notes wc 2.8k, FLUFF FLUFF bit of angst with reader’s mindset but happy ending i swear on my asia server genshin acc + this draft had been in my docs since 10/15/2023. its a miracle that i decided to pick up on it again and actually finish it !!!!!!! enjoy fellow aether kissers

Evenings were always eerily silent; because of that, your thoughts were loud. Not in the way that screamed—no, it was much worse. It was his voice that whispered, that made you shiver and reach out for something that never existed.

You didn’t know if you were dreaming or if you were awake and letting your mind wander away to a familiar face. Your mind always ended up back to him, no matter how much you tried to stray away. No matter who you talked to, he haunted you. Who you kissed, his face flashed in your mind. You wanted to curse his name out—it was his fault you were like this. It was his fault for deciding to come into this world and rid yourself of your defenses, left helpless to his whims.

“Um, Y/N?” A hand moved to your shoulder.

You jumped out of your seat, heart racing as his grinning face dissipated from your mind. You turned and breathed a sigh of relief. “What are you doing here, Sucrose?”

“It’s past midnight,” Sucrose murmured, her expression nervous, but apparently, she was too worried to leave you be. “I saw light from your window and thought you fell asleep…”

You didn’t even know if you were—everything before felt like a distant blur. Your eyes darted back to your desk, and then your face paled at the sight of a grinning face staring back at you. How long had you been mindlessly doodling Aether’s face? You quickly snatched them away from Sucrose’s view.

“I—I’m fine. Sorry, I did fall asleep.”

Sucrose’s bottom lip jutted out. “This has been happening for too long now. You’re not fine.”

What were you supposed to say to that? You were so hopelessly infatuated with someone who was ruining your life and possibly your job with Mr. Albedo. That would be a fast way to get yourself fired.

Sucrose sat on the chair beside you, her expression determined. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Can you at least tell me what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing that serious, Sucrose,” you stammered. Hopefully, the candles were dim enough to hide how flustered you were. It was more embarrassing than serious, really.

“Is it the Traveler?” She knew how to strike hard for someone with such an innocent face.

When had it not been the Traveler, honestly?

“Ugh…” That was a yes for her, apparently.

Sucrose smiled in relief. Her eyes darted around your face, studying you. “What’s wrong? Was he affecting you that much?”

“Yes. Disturbingly so. Like, seriously, it’s disturbing me.”

Sucrose’s eyes sparkled with wonder. “How?”

“It feels like swallowing a crystalfly whole and feeling it flutter around my stomach whenever I even think of him.”

Sucrose’s face turned serious. “What have you been doing to the crystalfies we’ve been collecting?”

“Never mind,” you muttered. “I’m fine, Sucrose. I promise, okay?”

You weren’t. Sucrose must’ve thought the same, too, because Lisa barged into your office the next day.

“What else are you expecting? For him to notice your wallowing and say something about it?”

Lisa’s sweet, melodious voice sounded torturous now when she was poking at all the things you were desperately trying to keep hidden. You sink against your seat, feeling a lot like a scolded kid, caught red-handed skipping chores—skipping responsibilities, hoping to stay oblivious for a bit longer.

“He already said something,” you grumbled, finding it difficult to meet the mage’s sharp eyes.

For someone who sounded as gentle as a mother to her only child, Lisa’s disappointment made you feel a lot more shameful than if she were to chide you in the middle of Mondstadt’s streets.

“A week after we met. He told me he likes me,” you continued.

Lisa’s jaw dropped, a funny expression you’ve never seen on her before. “A week after you met? Let me get this right—”

You groaned, “Lisa, trust me, I know—”

“—Our dear Traveler confessed to you ages ago. When was it when Aether helped us with Stormterror? He’s in Fontaine now!” Lisa looked a little frazzled, her eyes wild. You were expecting her to chide you some more until you saw how her entire expression was sparkling. This felt foreboding, somehow. “He keeps visiting to see you! After all these years of you foolishly rejecting him—”

“I didn’t reject him!”

Lisa hummed thoughtfully. “Oh, but isn’t that exactly what you’re doing?”

You were not rejecting Aether. You didn’t outright tell him you’re not interested because you are. He had been haunting your thoughts since you first laid eyes on him, returning from battle, cold breath billowing from his mouth, a pixie by his side, his hair aglow gold, Festering Desire in hand—and, oh, you desired him. It reached a point where Albedo himself had to ask if you wanted a check-up from how much you were burning with want.

Aether had grinned at you so brightly, and you damn near melted on the spot, even in the unrelentingly bitter weather of Dragonspine.

You found yourself liking him for more than his quite literally alien nature, his out-of-this-world body, and his abilities that had your hands itching to reach for a pen and paper to write down everything about him and figure out what the hell he was. Instead, you started falling for him as just Aether. His boyish smile, his witty jabs, his glimpses of personality.

And then he confessed to you—you, no one but one of Albedo’s assistants—and said he likes you, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to say anything at the time. You thought of him leaving one day, and then you just couldn’t say the yes that was chanting in your brain.

To no one’s surprise, he did leave. Not to that extent yet, but away from Mondsadt. Even in Liyue, Inazuma, Sumeru, and Fontaine, he invaded your thoughts as if cursing you for not saying what you were thinking. You could only wish he thought of you just as much as you did to him. Maybe he’d end up hating you, and not loving him would be easier.

“Are you kidding?” If it were so easy, you would’ve already jumped in his arms and kissed him breathlessly. “He’s—he’s not like us. He doesn’t belong here. He’d leave, eventually. Just like he always does with the other worlds.”

“Is that what’s stopping you?”

“That’s reason enough to be stopping me,” you said sharply. “He’s got millions of worlds to flirt with as he pleases, and this is my only one. Who knows if Aether is the type to even visit?”

Lisa crossed her arms. “Maybe you should ask. Communication is key.”

“Even if that was the case, I can’t handle it. I already miss him enough while he’s still in Teyvat—I don’t know how I could live with myself if I let him into my heart, and he’s a world away.”

“You’ve already let him in your heart,” Lisa said softly. “Just talk to him, alright? I’m not the only one worried about you when you drive yourself to a corner like this—especially over a boy!”

“I’m perfectly alright,” you said, ignoring Lisa’s amused smile. “I’m not losing my mind. Especially over a boy.”

You definitely were losing your mind. That boy was Aether; how could you not?

“I think it’s adorable,” Lisa cooed, cupping her cheeks and sighing dreamily. “He’s still waiting patiently. Who knew the Traveler would be so willing to wait for love?”

You wished that it wasn’t like that.

“Y/N! Are you here?”

Crap. Did you fall asleep in your office again? Might as well stop paying rent if this was going to be a recurring thing.

Once again, by routine at this point, you threw your notes that had Aether’s face inked by the edges. Memory be damned, You couldn’t let anyone see how detailed your drawings of Aether are.

“Y/N?” The voice rang out again, and it sounded more familiar now.

You went to open the door and frowned. “Lisa? It’s so early—did something happen?”

Lisa smiled in greeting, so beautifully devious with what she was about to say: “Our Honorary Knight is back in town!”

“Did you come all the way here just to tell me that?” Were people just seeing you as one of Aether’s admirers?

“Of course not,” Lisa chuckled, patting your head. How did she look so good this early in the morning? “He’s sick and needs someone to look after him.”

You wanted to close the door. You wanted to crawl back to your desk and go to sleep, but she had that look in her eye—one that told you that you had something to do with where she was going. And you did not like where this was going.

“So?” Dammit. You really wanted to see Aether again.

“Why, who else better to take care than his dearest alchemist?”

“Albedo is everyone’s alchemist. Sucrose is everyone’s dearest alchemist.”

Lisa shushed you. Why was she so invested in this? “No, no, his. Not everyone’s.”

You felt your face burn at the thought of being his dearest alchemist. Or anything his. “Absolutely not! Wasn’t he in Fontaine just yesterday?”

“Why don’t you go ask him that yourself?”

You scowled. You weren’t agreeable in the mornings. “How did you even know about this?”

Lisa smirked, poking your nose. “Because he asked for you, specifically.”

You laughed dryly—good one.

“I won’t let you do anything you wouldn’t want,” Lisa said seriously, “but would you change your mind if I told you that it’s Aether that wants you?”

And so you ended up in Aether’s teapot, which was hanging around Jean’s office for safety. Jean only smiled knowingly when you knocked on the door and zipped straight to the teapot. You were only doing this on the off-chance that Lisa was telling the truth and that Aether demanded he didn’t want anyone else but you checking up on him.

His teapot was familiar. You had been here a few times, but you didn’t have your own room. That was too embarrassing to ask, no matter how much Aether suggested it.

“Y/N!” Aether lit up the moment you entered the room.

“Aether,” you greeted, and as much as you wanted to hide it, a smile bloomed on your lips. It was hard not to smile when Aether was looking at you like that.

He looked like a mess, with strands of hair spread all over his pillows. His blanket was only up to his hips, showing that he was out of his usual look, and wore a simple white shirt. You were grateful for that shirt; you didn’t want to end up helping Aether strip because he definitely would have suggested that.

“I’m sick,” Aether whined. “Tend to me.”

You would’ve doubted his fever, but it was worryingly hot when you reached out to check his forehead’s temperature.

Immediately, your suspicions fly out the window. Aether was burning, and you were the only one in the same room (teapot?) who should take care of him. The Honorary Knight was reduced to a fever.

You cupped his cheek and watched as Aether pressed his face closer. “Does your head hurt?”

“Yes.”

You tore your hand off. “I’ll make something to ease the pain.”

“You can ease it right now. By kissing it away.”

“Aether,” you sighed. Unbelievable. How did he still have enough energy for this while positively rotting on his bed? “Take this seriously. I haven’t seen you this sick— Actually, this is the first time I’ve ever seen you sick. How did this even happen?”

“Stayed too long underwater,” he said.

Aether? Getting sick from swimming? You made a face, which Aether laughed softly at.

“No, seriously. It was an emergency commission. Even when I had to resurface, it was pouring. Someone was making the Hydro Dragon cry hard yesterday.” Aether’s face scrunched as he looked up at you with round eyes. “I was so cold.”

Although it sounded absurd that Aether would get a fever from that, you suppose that having to stay drenched for a long time would affect even someone like him. You couldn’t even imagine having to shiver your way back to Mondstadt after being thoroughly drenched the whole day.

You pulled the blanket further up Aether’s chest. Even if you suspected he was lying, he was trembling underneath the covers.

“Alright.” You’ll believe him because right now, it is a fact that Aether is undoubtedly sick.

You were well aware that he was and sounded like he was dying, but he looked cute, flushed, and staring at you expectantly. It felt nice to be needed by someone like him—made him feel less like a faraway dream.

You cleared your throat and looked away; you knew you looked flustered. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Why? Will you cook for me?” he asked.

You knew how to cook, but for someone who had traveled regions and tasted all kinds of foods, you would probably disappoint. Still, it wasn’t time for a competition with other chefs in Liyue or Fontaine. Aether needed food to fill his stomach.

“Any suggestions?” You hoped for nothing unfamiliar and crazy. You loved Aether, but having to fetch ingredients from oceans away was too much.

“Make it with love,” Aether said cheekily because he was a bastard who didn’t have any mercy on your heart.

And so you left the room and ignored Aether, laughing and coughing as he called after you. You had to leave either way—your chest was almost as warm as Aether’s forehead.

You decided to make a Radish Veggie Soup. You hoped Aether wasn’t too picky about his vegetables. The water was comfortably cold, enough to make you search around his cupboards for towels to soak it into. As you waited for the water to boil, you decided to check up on Aether again.

He was still lying there, but with his eyes closed now. You felt terrible seeing someone you witnessed defeat dragons battling a fever. You drew closer and placed the towel on his head. He didn’t flinch at the stark change of temperature, but he did react instantly, his warm hand clasping your wrist.

“Stay,” Aether rasped.

You bit your lip, your heart sinking. Was he dreaming about his sister? You always worried when he was feeling down because of their separation.

But then his eyes opened, and he stared right at you. “Y/N,” he said, “please stay.”

“I can’t.”

“Just this once.” Aether’s voice sounded so quiet, so unsure of himself.

You really couldn’t. You had a Radish Veggie Soup to attend to.

“I’m staying,” Aether said, and you had a feeling he wasn’t talking about the bed. “I’m staying here for you.”

You frowned. “Don’t lie to make me feel better right now. That would hurt more when you have to leave.”

Aether’s face softened impossibly. “I’m not lying. I’m telling you the truth—I’m not leaving Teyvat. Even if I find my sister, I’m staying.”

Seriously? Just like that? “What made you change your mind?”

You couldn’t tell if Aether was blushing or if it was his fever. “How could I leave Teyvat when I see how cute you look taking care of me?”

You threw a pillow to his face.

He swerved away and laughed brightly. “I’m joking! I’m joking—drop that pillow, please. I’m kidding. Well, sort of.”

His face was once again attempted to get assaulted by another pillow. Aether grinned as he blocked it off with an arm.

“For someone so sick, you seem awfully lively,” you said, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“You breathe life into me; what can I say?”

You groaned. You couldn’t deal with this today—you needed at least three business days to process this and find another reason to reject him. Yet, as you moved to get some fresh air (anything to get Aether’s stupid face out of your view), a hand abruptly reached for your wrist.

Aether’s face was close to yours in a blink of an eye. His breath was hot on your face. “I’m serious,” he said, “so if— if you feel the same way, the least you can do is stay, too.”

“I— You—” You gaped at him. That sounded like it could be a proposal. Who would’ve thought—the Outlander, the Traveler, begging for you to stay?

Aether’s gaze flicked to your lips.

“Don’t kiss me,” you said in warning. “Are you an idiot? You’re sick!”

“That’s fine. I get to take care of you when you do,” Aether said.

Your face paled. “No! I have a job, Aether—”

Aether frowned. “And I have a world to save, but that can wait. We’re busy.”

You pushed his face away, his laugh smothered by your palm. “No, we are not. I’m busy making food for your sorry ass, away from you.”

Aether’s face crumpled. “Do you actually not want to kiss?”

Not when he’s sick and snotty, yeah.

Instead, you leaned in to kiss his forehead to make up for it. It was brief and faint, but Aether looked satisfied, smiling softly when you pulled away. It would do for now.

“I’m staying,” you said. “So long as you do, too. I’ll stay with you.”

THE SOUP TURNED OUT OKAY STILL. this is just how my mom takes care of me when im sick LOL but the idea of doing it to a sick aether was too good i had to write a fic about it. also i love angst about aether being the traveler aaghgh

thank u sm for reading. as always, lmk what u think and i hope u liked it!! <3

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #aether x reader #aether x you #aether x y/n #genshin x y/n

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 4 months

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“I’m a big fan” || Tom Blyth x singer!reader

GIFs by me :)

Summary: in which after Tom reveals that he is a big fan of you, especially after you’re a part of soundtrack of tbosas, you and Tom are caught being awfully close to each other a few weeks after.

Warnings: fem!reader

Wc: 643

A/n: Sorry I haven't uploaded a tom blyth x singer!reader fic in abit! I've got another one sitting in my drafts that I need to finish :)

Tom Blyth x singer!reader au masterlist

divider by @pommecita

“Tom and Hunter on…. Y/n Abrams’ Hunger Games single” “So good. It's so good,” Tom says immediately. Hunter squeals, throwing her hands up in the air.

"I love Y/n Abrams," Hunter fangirls, a huge smile plastered on her face. "Yeah, I'm a big fan of her honestly. I hope I get to meet her someday," Tom has never mentioned you on the internet before.

Truthfully, he has always been a fan of your music since you first released your first album and has stayed a loyal fan. He would be lying if he said he didn't have a crush on you, I mean who wouldn't, you are Y/n Abrams.

So when he saw your post on instagram announcing that you were going to be a part of tbosas soundtrack with 'Can't catch me now' Tom was absolutely fangirling

Of course you were familiar with Tom but the two of you have yet to meet. You remember seeing him on screen for the first time when your sister had Billy the Kid playing on your tv at home, and you were hooked.

You understood why the girlies were head over heels for Tom, he was crazy attractive, a gentleman, and an absolute sweetheart. When you saw the interview that mentioned him, you were dying to meet him as well.

Little did he know that you would be attending the LA premiere for the tbosas and would see him for sure. “Y/n, any one in particular your excited to see today?” A woman asks as she directs her mic at you.

“Uh- yeah actually, I’m excited to finally meet Tom!” You couldn’t help but feel the corners of your mouth rise. “Really? Well I interviewed just a couple moments ago and he said the same with you!” Your eyes slightly widen as your eyes look around.

“I think he’s over there,” The woman points to the other side as you thank her before making your way that way. You were whisked into another interview before you could go any further.

As you were talking, you felt a hand on your shoulder as you jump. “Shit-“ “Sorry-“ You turn your head and was pleasantly surprised seeing those pair of blue eyes stare straight back at you. "Tom!" Your smile widens as you grip his biceps, his hands politely gripping your waist.

"Y/n! Finally we meet!" He chuckles as you could feel the rumble coming from his chest. "It's so lovely to meet you," You pull him in for a hug, all the while the camera still focused on the two of you. All though the two of you just met, you felt so comfortable around him, and he felt the exact same way.

"I'm such a big fan, Y/n," He says against the side of your head, his hand rubbing your back before you pull back. "Oh stop, I'm such a big fan of you too, Tom!" You exclaim before you remember you were still mid interview. "Oh! I'm so sorry," You sheepishly smile at the girl who laughed.

"Sorry, It's my fault for interrupting you. I'll see you soon?" Tom butts in, his arm around your shoulder as he pulls you into his chest. It didn't feel awkward or uncomfortable the way the two of you interacted with each other, it was more natural and familiar.

"Yeah of course, I'll see you then," You look up at him, you nearly stopped breathing at how close he was to you. "Bye, darling," He bids you goodbye as you watch his tall figure leaving. "No way the two of you met just then," The young woman asked, shock evident in her tone.

A breathy laugh escapes your lips, "Yep, it feel's like I've known him my entire life!" "It looked like it!" The woman exclaims as the two of you laugh.

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retroellie · 1 year

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Twisted Game

Summary: After the prison collapses, you and Daryl are stuck on the road. After chugging down some moonshine a game of "Never have i ever" turns into a night you'll never forget.

A/N: I've had this in my drafts for weeks, i finished it up all today so it might be choppy. But this shit was the horniess thing i have ever written God damn. Also, the way this gif has a choke hold on me, HIS TUMMY, i simply cannot.

Warnings: NSFW, Loss of virginity, unprotected sex, Oral sex, dirty talk and squirting

Word count: 6.9K

“So you understand the game now?” You asked the man sitting across from you.

He gave you a look, blue eyes boring into your skin as you raised your brow to him. You had butterflies in your stomach, whether that was because you were sitting across from a beautiful man or it was the moonshine kicking In. He hesitated, knowing this game could end up in hurt feelings or you being completely grossed out about his redneck life. Opening up to people wasn’t Daryl’s strong suit.

“Fine…” he mumbled.

You guys had been on the road for days, only stopping to set up camp to rest and cook your squirrels or whatever Daryl had hunted for y’all. You missed your family, your family that you wouldn’t even look at twice before all this but yet they were the closest people to you. Daryl was unfortunately a part of that little family but he made you feel like a burden, he was never your favorite person ever but at this moment he was.

He was the only one left to you, he was the only person left of your entire fucked up family you had. You had broken down so many times, crying at night hoping Daryl didn’t hear… he always did. He wasn’t too good at feelings so he never said anything but he wanted to. But here y’all were now, sipping on moonshine after Daryl had picked it out for you. He thought maybe it would take your mind off things… if it ever will be taken off your mind.

“Okay great!! I’ll start!” You said, smiling wildly as you thought about what you’d say.

You were usually well reserved, never really opening up to anyone but carol and maybe Rick at times. But you were tipsy, the moonshine burning low into your stomach and you were let loose. If someone were to tell you that you would be in an abandoned trailer with moonshine in your hand next to a pretty redneck?? You’d laugh in their face.

“I’ve never…. Drank before… I mean besides this.” You said, smirking over at Daryl.

Daryl rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his moonshine before putting it back down. It amazed you how he didn’t even make a face when he downed it, he’s definitely used to drinking you thought.

“Okay… it’s your turn!” You said

Daryl thought, there’s not much he hasn’t done so this is trying to rack his brain to find out something you have done that he hasn’t… It was hard.

“I never read a book and enjoyed it…” he said

This caused you to chuckle lightly, it was silly that he’d hadn’t enjoyed a book ever… completely opposite of you, books helped you get through the day sometimes.

“Really?? Like never?” You asked

He nodded, letting a smirk on his face at your reaction. He didn’t like you too much but he can’t deny your beauty, especially your smile.. You brought your cup up to your lips and took a swig. You tried to not make a face, trying to mimic what Daryl did but you couldn’t… this shit tasted awful.

“Yuck.. I’ve never liked drinking…” you joked, sticking your tongue out and shivering.

“It ain’t for everyone… I just like the buzz.” He said, sipping on his moonshine willingly. You gagged jokingly.

“Yeah… I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this shit.” You said, trying to swallow down the burning sensation as it creeped down your throat.

You guys went back and forth for a bit, Daryl saying something he hasn’t done which caused you to drink and then you saying something you haven’t done causing Daryl to drink. It’s funny how a simple game could bring you two closer together which honestly allowed you to ease up and just sit back for a minute. You weren’t thinking any thoughts but what you haven’t done in your life, it really made you think about how you honestly haven’t really lived.

You liked seeing Daryl smile, you’ve never really been able to see that smile of his but now you were addicted to it. You found yourself cracking stupid jokes just go see it and honestly, this might be the moonshine talking, you couldn’t help the dull ache that it created deep within you.

“Okay hmmm I’ve never…” you thought once again… thinking of any embarrassing thing you haven’t done.

You don’t know what came over you but you just blurted the first thing that came into your head, it was strange… like the moonshine was taking over. Your lips had become loose, not able to control them because you were far too gone for that now.

“I’ve never had sex” you were surprised you even said it and it kinda grossed you out.

You were definitely not yourself right now, you would never willingly say that to anyone. You weren’t ashamed of it but it can be a little embarrassing due to the fact you’re in your 20s and still a virgin. It’s not that you didn’t want to or you were actively trying to not have sex, it’s just something that never crossed your mind ever when you were with a person. You’ve had boyfriends and girlfriends, all of them have tried but you always told them you weren’t ready for it.

You looked up at Daryl, seeing that his facial expression never changed… but instead he lifted his cup to his lips and chugged down his moonshine.

“Sorry I…” you started, not able to finish before Daryl asked a hard hitting question.

“Why not?” He asked, setting his cup down.

You were surprised Daryl even continued the game after that, it was all fun and games… no gross shit until you brought that up. You were embarrassed, wishing you never said anything but honestly intrigued about what Daryl would say about the subject.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, staring down into your moonshine glass. “I've just never been interested enough in someone to do it…”

You looked up at Daryl, making sure he was paying attention to you before you went on. He was staring at you with a different look in his eyes than usual, it wasn’t his usual hard stare he gave everyone. It was softer but still with the same hardness, his pupils were bigger… almost black as he bore them into your skin. When you say you weren’t yourself right now, you meant it. Without even having to rack out your courage from your brain, you looked daryl right in the eyes.

“Until now…” you confessed which created an even deeper ache within you.

Daryl’s eyes stayed on you, not flinching or moving off of you… not even once. You thought maybe he didn’t hear you at first and honestly deep down you wish he didn’t, you were embarrassed at your sudden neediness. Then you thought maybe he didn’t get your hint, maybe you were being too subtle about it. You hoped maybe he would be able to drop it so it would save the embarrassment but what you didn’t know was it lit something inside Daryl.

His blood ran cold when you said that, he watched as you gave him a clueless, innocent look as those filth covered words slipped out of your mouth. Daryl hated how childish you were, how cheery and how you were so optimistic about the world ending… yet he couldn’t shake the thought of you below him as you sucked his dick, he imagined you would be so sloppy with it. He could imagine your drool spill over his cock, making a mess out of yourself. His favorite day dream was you on your hands and knees in front of him as he rammed himself so deep inside you, his hands shoving you down into the pillow as you took his length like the whore you are… or the whore he thought you were.

You being a virgin struck a different feeling into Daryl, you had never been touched before and you never even wanted to be touched… except by Daryl. It was almost as if you waited for him, waited for him to take what was his. He just hates how it had to be this way, after losing everyone and getting drunk on moonshine but Daryl didn’t mind. Daryl had been waiting for this moment since he met you and knowing you’re a virgin was enough to send him off the edge.

“Take your shirt off…” was the only thing he said, suddenly you sobered up.

You were now hyper aware of everything happening in this moment. You could hear the walker outside, you could feel the carpet underneath you and how filthy it was, you could hear every breath that came out of Daryl… they were much deeper than before. You took a moment to let his words linger, making sure you heard him right but after a moment… you did what you were told.

You slowly unbuttoned your shirt, each button showing more and more skin to Daryl causing his breath to hitch. You heated up with every button, finally getting to the final one and then allowing your shirt to slide down your arms. You sat tall, watching Daryl’s eyes scan over your breast. Daryl sat there for a minute, just staring as your face began to heat up more than it already had been.

Then after a moment of hesitation, Daryl stood up and made his way over to where you sat on the floor. You could see how hard he was through his pants, his big cock standing to attention causing your mouth to water slightly.

“You really want this?” He asked, staring down at you as you sat on your knees like an obedient whore you thought you’d never become

You nodded violently, hands scratching at your thighs as you held back the need to touch him. Daryl just chuckled at your actions, running a hand through your hair, getting a good look at your innocence before he completely destroyed you.

“Then you're gonna have to work for it…” he grinned, taking his other hand so he could undo his belt slowly.

You were nervous to say the least, you had dreamed about this for months but it finally freaked you out. Not to mention you’ve never done anything like this, what if you weren’t good enough for him. You watched as he slowly undid his pants, watching as he went teasingly slow. When his pants were successfully undone, he pulled them down so they were down to his knees. You could see his cock straining against his boxers, you couldn’t help but squeeze your legs together for some kind of friction.

Then Daryl shed the last piece of clothing that covered himself, pulling down his underwear which allowed his cock to spring free. You felt a whole world wind of emotions, excitement, nervousness and pleasure all running deep within your bones. He was much bigger than you expected, causing everything wrong to go through your brain. Will it fit? Is it going to rip you open? Will you be able to take him? Daryl saw your nervousness, giving you a reassuring scratch on the head.

“We don’t have to… we can stop now.” He said, lifting your head to look up at him.

He gave you the softest look you had ever seen him give anyone, his fingers danced along your chin as you looked up at him with puppy dog eyes. You shook your head, readjusting yourself on your knees but really… you were trying to silence the ache that was affecting your entire body at this point.

“No… I mean, yes I want this I just..” you paused, biting your lip nervously. “I’ve never done this before… like any of it… I don’t know how.”

You tried to explain it the best you could, you thought you sounded stupid but Daryl knew what you meant. Daryl gave you a smirk, setting his hand on his dick as he slowly pumped it… you saw it twitch out of the corner of your eye. Daryl placed his hand back in your hair, not roughly, not trying to force your head down on him but it was comforting. His hand lightly scratched your scalp, trying to ease your nervousness.

“I’ll teach ya, ya can’t really mess it up so don’t worry.” He joked, even despite your nervousness you let out a chuckle.

You stood taller on your knees, coming face to face with his throbbing cock. You watched as Daryl thrusted his cock into his hand, watching as he set a slow pace for it. He engulfed his entire length in his hand, making sure to slide his fingers along the tip at times.

“Since you are a beginner, go ahead and start at the tip.” He spoke, watching as you looked up at him and then down at his cock once more.

You nodded, getting your lips wet as you opened your mouth and attached it to the pink flush tip. You saw a porno or two, seeing how the girls would give the tip kisses and tiny licks to tease the man. You started off making circles with your tongue on the tip, pulling off to set small kisses to it before going back. Daryl’s groans caused you to go a bit deeper, doing the same thing with the top of his cock.

“Good girl…” he groaned out, his hand in your hair giving you a reassuring scratch once again. “Now when ya think yer ready… hollow your cheeks and take as much as you can of me.”

You moaned at the pet name, loving the way he was talking you through it all. You started small once again, taking in small amounts of him. Your tongue went crazy on him, you weren’t quite sure what to do with it but it made his cock twitch in your mouth so you thought maybe you were doing it right. You bobbed your head up and down, each time you took more and more of him in your mouth.

You could feel Daryl tense up, you could see how hard he was trying to stop his hips from bucking… oh how he wanted to watch you choke and slobber all over his cock, but Daryl wasn’t that mean. Your first time was already going to be in a piss stained trailer, he might as well let you take your time with it. Daryl’s hand was now grabbing at your hair, which part of it was to help you bob your head up and down at a good pace, the other part was because your mouth just felt too good on him… he needed to grab something.

“Fuck… y/n, your doing so fucking good.” He moaned, you would have never guessed Daryl Dixon had such pretty moans.

You smiled on his cock, the praise was getting to your head slightly, you would even say it was causing you to get too big of a head. You attempted to take all of him all at once, you just wanted to make him feel good but you completely forgot about the fact you hadn’t done this before, you were still so new to it. You took your mouth almost all the way off before shoving his cock right down your throat, you gagged causing you to retract back from it.

“Woah there…” Daryl said, seeing how your eyes started to water slightly and your lips were rubbed raw from his cock. “Ya can’t take all of me… not yet at least, you have to start slow bunny.”

“I’m sorry…” you said pathetically, you had become so needy and the only thing you wanted to do was make Daryl feel good.

“ ‘s okay, you can try again if you want or we can stop.” He said, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You looked down at Daryl’s spit covered cock, the ache in your cunt was too much to bear now. You didn’t want to continue but you needed to, it felt like you were out of oxygen in the stuffy room you had been in and the only thing that could ease that feeling was Daryl. Even through your embarrassment you wanted to make it up to Daryl and suck the life out of him.

You looked up into Daryl’s eyes, placing your mouth on his cock once more. You bobbed your head at the same pace you had been before, making sure to not take your eyes off Daryl as his eyes closed slightly. You were much slower this time, taking in as much as you could, licking up the small vein that laid on the back of his cock. You tried this time to have a small head about it, not get too cocky so as to not embarrass yourself again.

You had gotten to the point where you couldn’t take anymore, Daryl’s hand in your hair wouldn’t let you go that far anymore. Although seeing you choke on his cock gave him a power rush, he would never make you do it if you couldn’t.

“If you can’t take much more, you can use your hands on the rest.” He stated, reaching for your hand and you gave it to him. He placed your hand on the base of his cock, the small section you could not fit in your mouth. “Keep it at the pace yer mouth is going… there ya go.”

You were doing great so far or at least you thought. His cock felt comfortable in your mouth, although you wanted to go deeper, you wanted him all in your mouth but you knew what happened then. You watched as Daryl gripped into the table behind him, knuckles turning white as he had a violent grip on it. His head was thrown back, his nostrils flared as he tried to control his breathing. You liked what you were doing to him, how hard he had to keep himself contained. Who knew that you could do this to someone like Daryl Dixon.

“Doing so good y/n… fuck ‘m gonna cum..” he groaned, hand gripping harder at your scalp. “Gonna cum all over those tits…”

The idea excited you, the idea of you covered in Daryl’s cum, watching as he covered your tits with his seed. You picked up the already fast pace on his cock, taking him further into your mouth. He had gotten quite good at it, a little over half of his cock was fitted deep within your mouth and you could probably take in more if you really tried.

You could feel Daryl’s cock twitch more and more, his hips starting to buck into your mouth slightly, not enough to gag you on him but enough to feel in the back of your throat. You sucked harder, wanting to see how pretty he looked as he came especially when he came from you sucking his cock.

“Shit.. gonna cum…” he said once more, pulling you off of him with his hand and then placing his hand on his cock. “Pull your bra down… lemme see those pretty tits hm?”

You did as you were told, pulling your bra down so your tits were exposed to him. He gripped his cock harshly, starting his thrust at a fast pace as he looked down at you. Your eyes were lust blown and slightly teary, your mouth was wet with your own spit which had dribbled down onto your tits, your tits heaved up and down as you tried to catch your breath. Daryl grunted as he thrusted into his hand, his hand that was in your hair reached down to grab one of your breasts.

He fondled it in his hand, he was delicate with it though. Pinching the skin softly as not to hurt you, but his hips snapped violently against his own hand. You watched as his face was engulfed by pleasure, watching as his orgasm took over his body. Daryl thrusted a few more times into his hands as his cock spilled his cum all over your tits, exactly where he said he was. He pumped himself through his orgasm, the ropes of cum landing perfectly on your tits. You were too busy watching as his face looked so angelic as he came on you, doing the most disgusting thing but still looking so pretty while doing it.

Daryl milked himself onto you, almost completely covering you with himself. Daryl slowly came down from his high, cock still throbbing as it became hard again. You could do nothing but watch, watch as Daryl literally lost his mind for 20 seconds and then became his composed self after.

“Good girl… you did good for me.” He breathed out, moving strands of your hair from your face so he can get a good look at you once again. You were so obedient to him, it turned Daryl on to the max. “You still want me to fuck you?”

You nodded, pressing your thighs together once again. The ache just wouldn’t go away without him fucking you, you couldn’t keep yourself contained anymore. If you had to beg Daryl to fuck you, you would in a heart beat. Daryl nodded down at you, looking around the trailer… for something.

“I’m not gonna fuck you on a dirty floor, I’ll go get a sheet for the couch.” He said, walking back into the trailer. Leaving you there with his cum coating your tits.

You were so ready, you didn’t think you could be this ready for anything but you were. You tried to sit still but you couldn’t, you fidgeted on your knees trying to keep yourself from touching yourself then and there. Your nervousness nowhere to be seen, you were suddenly sober and ready for the pretty redneck to go ram you into the floor.

“You ready?” Daryl said from behind you, you were so in your own head you didn’t even realize Daryl had sprawled and put a sheet on the couch already. You looked up at him, seeing him hold out his hand for you to grab.

You looked down at his hand and then back up at him, with a smile, you took his hand in yours. He helped you up onto your feet but that didn’t last long before you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. Daryl couldn’t help but chuckle at your eagerness but he didn’t try to stop you, no he just grabbed onto your hips and pulled you closer to him.

You slipped your tongue within his mouth, feeling every crevice of his mouth as his tongue fought with yours. As you were too busy trying to tongue fuck his mouth Daryl had walked you back onto the couch, knocking things off of tables as he did so. He laid you on the couch, your legs wrapped around him tightly. He supported himself with his arms but you pulled him down on top of you fully, wanting to feel his warmth in you as much as you could.

Daryl let it happen, letting you do whatever you needed to make yourself comfortable. Daryl snaked a hand down your body, creeping them into your pants and underwear as he slipped a finger through your slit. The sudden touch on your bundle of nerves caused you to gasp, no one had ever touched you there before and his rough hands had felt they were made for it. After Daryl had collected a good amount of slick on his fingers, he pulled it out of your pants and placed his fingers in his mouth.

“So wet… god can’t wait to fuck you.” He said, pulling you in for another kiss so you could taste yourself.

The makeout session didn’t take too long because as you were too lost in Daryl’s lips, he was pulling the rest of your clothing off along with his. When you had finally pulled away from his lips, you both were completely naked and your bodies were pressed together in one sticky and sweaty mess. Daryl looked down at you as he rubbed his cock between your slit, allowing himself to get as wet as possible.

“Are you ready for me bunny?” He asked, brushing your hair with his hands comfortably so you were feeling as safe as he could.

“I’m ready Daryl…” you whispered, pecking his lips softly.

Daryl loved how soft and sweet you were but he knew what came next, the sting of him stretching you out and the pain of your experience. Daryl wanted this probably as much as you but he hated being the one to take your virginity, he didn’t want to pain you in any way especially if he couldn’t control the pain. Down the road he’d show you good types of pain, how pain can make you feel good but this isn’t one of the pains he would want you to experience.

“It’s gonna hurt but only for a minute okay? You tell me when you want me to stop.” He stated, watching as you nodded.

You were too lust driven to understand the meaning of his words, you weren’t expecting to hurt that bad. Daryl nodded, grabbing onto your hand so you could squeeze it if needed. He lined himself up with your entrance before pushing himself in slightly. He watched as your brows furrowed and your eyes closed, he could tell you were already starting to feel the sting. He went in deeper, hoping it didn’t feel too much different but your yelp proved differently.

“ ‘m sorry..” he whispered, leaving soft kisses on your neck and jaw.

Daryl could feel your hand squeeze his harshly, you took in a harsh breath as the sting continued as he pushed more of himself in. He once again dragged his fingers down your body so he could rub the bundle of nerves, hoping that would take your mind off the pain for maybe a moment so he could push more of himself in you.

You felt like being ripped open but it was a weird good way, it wasn’t something you would like to feel any longer but it felt nice to know It was Daryl Dixon's pretty cock that was causing you this pain. Daryl tried to be quick with it, trying to shove himself in without causing too much pain. His quick work on your clit made it a little less painful, now the pain and pleasure mixing together to make a beautiful feeling deep in your stomach. It was complete hell for Daryl, he was only seconds away from going completely feral and his patients were wearing thin. He kept composure, trying to just focus on the way your face scrunched in pain.

“Are you almost in…” you gasped as he continued to ever so slowly inch into you.

He was almost half way in, he took moments to allow you to adjust to his size here and there but he was trying to make this go as fast as possible so you were able to feel our pleasure. You were soaked to say the least so Daryl was slipping right in, it’s just the pain and your contracting walls that caused his speed.

“Almost there… just a little more bunny.” He said, suddenly liking the pet name he’d given to you.

He continued to slide himself in slowly, only picking up the speed on your clit to make it easier for you all the while he peppered your neck with love bites. Daryl wasn’t a very affectionate man but right now he had a mission to make you feel as safe as he could make you and if he had to break down all his walls, he would. You had started to get a little fidgety, wanting to reject his cock out of you but also wanting him inside you fully… you craved it. Your body was heating up, your eyes filled with tears as the sting became so much and moans had slipped your lips like water out of a faucet.

You had never felt quite like this before, sure you’d touch yourself at night and one time you had dry humped one of your exes but it was nothing like this. You felt so full yet so empty all at the same time, you needed and wanted more even throughout the pain that coursed through your body. When you thought you were going inside, you felt Daryl’s hips fully against yours. You swear you could feel him inside your guts, it was such a beautiful feeling… being stretched out by his cock, the cock you had made cum no more than 10 minutes ago. You were in heaven…

“ ‘m in… just tell me when to move.” He whispered, landing a kiss on your tear streaked face.

You dug your nails into Daryl, trying to wait till the dull sting had stopped. It wasn’t too bad now, after a bit it had become nothing but an annoying ache but you weren’t ready for him to pound you yet. You stayed there, allowing your walls to get used to him. Daryl held back with everything he had, your velvet walls took his cock so well and he couldn’t wait to fuck them until they were worn down. Daryl couldn’t even day dream how good this feeling would feel, not even his hand could mimic the feeling of it.

You had completely molded to him, causing your walls to twitch slightly and your hips to buck into him. You could hear Daryl grunt into your ear as you teased him with your hips, you knew how hard he was trying to not hurt you… you thought it was sweet, so sweet that you wanted him to feel your appreciation.

“ You… can move now..” you said through a strangled moan.

That’s all Daryl needed, he started slow… teasingly slow even though he wanted nothing more than to slam into you. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge already, with the way his hand had taken a slow speed to your clit and how his cock was slowly bucking in and out of you… you could cum in seconds. Daryl kept his pace, his hand still in yours as he so softly pecked your lips.

Your moans filled the room, the annoying ache, the sting, the stretching no longer paining you anymore, it was now just pure pleasure. You were needing Daryl to speed up, you tried to buck your hips into his but your hips were sore and you couldn’t quite keep a good pace before exhausting yourself out. Daryl knew what you wanted though, he saw your face contort from pain to pleasure in a matter of seconds, he knew you were ready for a good pounding.

“I’m gonna move ya okay?” He said, asking for consent before he did pretty much anything.

“I don’t care… just go faster please!” You whined, causing Daryl to chuckle at your needy behavior.

Daryl sat up, seeing you pout as he took himself out. You asked for more but he gave you less, you were shitty but you weren’t upset for long. Daryl manhandled you basically, smacking your butt lightly to give you the hint to turn around. You did what he wanted, turning around in your hands and knees before Daryl pushed you down until only your front was pushed down into the sheets.

You shivered as the cold air hit your exposed cunt, you slightly whined due to the fact you couldn’t see Daryl. You never even thought the situation of you not seeing Daryl would give you any type of distress but here you were, ass up and waiting for Daryl to fuck you. Daryl got himself comfortable behind you, placing his hands on your hips as he looked down at your face pushed into the pillows.

“You okay? Need another pillow or a blanket?” He asked, watching you get frustrated with him.

“Jesus Christ! Daryl just fuck me!!” You yelled, loud enough for the walker outside to hear.

Daryl just chuckled, lining his throbbing cock up with your cunt once more before he pushed himself in again. You were still very much adjusted to his size, it felt like a hole inside you was filled as he did so… which literally happened but felt more hypothetical in the moment. Daryl started with his slow pace once again, this time only staying with it for mere seconds before he sped up. You twisted your hands in the sheets as his cock hit your g-spot every single thrust.

You were already on the edge before, the knot in your stomach had become annoyingly unbearable as Daryl sped his thrusts up. You couldn’t handle it, you felt like a hungry mad man who had just come across water for the first time in years. You could do much to stop yourself from coming up, you could only scream Daryl’s name at the top of your lungs as your cunt fluttered violently on his cock. Your vision went out, then your hearing and then you felt Daryl’s hands in your hair once again.

He pulled you back to earth with a single pull of your hair as he fucked you through your first orgasm. He spread your cunt apart with one hand as he continued his fast pace, his hips slapping against your ass every single time. You didn’t want him to stop, not even if your sensitive clit was begging for the abuse on it to stop.

“Fuck your so tight for me bunny ain’t ya? You needed to be fucked by my cock huh?” His words cause a deep desire within you, causing a wave of wetness to pour out of you once more.

Daryl was now at an animalistic pace, his hands now bruisingly gripped onto your hips as he thrusted you back into his cock. You moaned out a few “yes”’s and “need you.”’s as a reply to him but really it was the only thing you could say right now. Your mind was too clouded with his cock to be able to think any coherent thoughts, you had quite literally became a fuck toy for him.

His abuse on your cunt continued, feeling your cunt contract on his cock as your second orgasm within the last 5 minutes started to stir up within your stomach. It only took a few thrusts from Daryl before it came undone again, he felt your cunt spasm once again on his cock. Daryl was close, so fucking close but he needed you to cum again before he could cum deep inside you.

“Just one more time bunny… need you to cum on my cock one more time…” he groaned, not stopping his hips as you came once again on his cock.

His words made yet another knot form within your belly, not waiting for your second orgasm to stop before moving onto the next. You were legit on fire, every one of your senses tingling, your throat burned from the screams that erupted deep down inside of you, your eyes were wet with your salty tears, your skin laced with a small sheet of sweat that seemed to pour out of your. Every inch of your body screamed at you to stop but also all at the same time wanted more, mixing pleasure and pain together as you got higher and higher to your third orgasm.

Daryl grabbed onto your shoulders, lifted you up off the couch so you were unbelievably close to him. Your back was flush against his chest, he held you there, locking your hips in place as he thrusted deeper and harder into your cunt. Your body was screaming for release at this point, wanting nothing more than to explode under the pressure but you couldn’t get the push you needed to send yourself off the edge.

“I c-can’t…. Fuck Daryl!” You whined, the knot in your stomach so unbelievably tight.

You felt you were going to explode, you shook violently in the hands of Daryl as he thrusted relentlessly into you. Daryl slid his hand down to your clit, giving you an overwhelming amount of pleasure as you let out strangled moans and probably every curse word possible in this moment.

“You can bunny… your doing so fucking good for me, just cum on my cock one more time…” he whispered in your ear, lightly biting the lobe of it.

His words were exactly what you needed, that was the push that sent you over the edge. Suddenly the knot snapped, it didn’t feel anything like it did before though. It sent intense shocks through your body, every inch of your body screaming as it did so. You let out a scream, scratching at Daryl’s arm that was still placed roughly on your hips. You threw your head back over his shoulder, feeling your cunt shoot out fluids.

“God damn… fuck y/n!” Daryl moaned, thrusting only once more before spilling himself inside you.

Daryl’s cum filled you up to the brim, shoving his cock deep inside you so it can coat every inch of your insides. You watched as Daryl came, peaking at him through half closed eyes and seeing his face once again light up with pleasure. Daryl fucked not only you but himself through your orgasms, allowing you both to come down from your highs before he slid his now soft cock out of you.

Daryl held you for a minute, allowing you to go limp in his arms. Daryl wouldn’t say he was in love with you, he didn’t quite know what that felt like but the way he grabbed onto him now, half conscious as he held you softly, he would say you meant something to him. This moment all he wanted to do was protect you, he would kill anyone or anything that even tried to harm you… that terrified him.

“Uh… I’ll go check to see if that shower still works, so you can get cleaned up.” Daryl said, delicately placing you down on the couch.

You were still out of it, you could feel the moonshine creeping back up on you as your head pounded and your stomach twisted. You were plain exhausted as you watched Daryl get up and start collecting his clothes, pulling up his underwear and pants back onto his legs.

“Wait… Daryl?” You called out to him, sitting up so you could see him clearer.

“Yeah?” He answered, not even looking at you as he collected his clothes.

The thought saddened you but the only thing you thought was about how this was a one night stand to Daryl, his efforts to leave, to make you clean up after him, to be by yourself after you gave yourself to him. Daryl didn’t mean to make you feel like that but he didn’t do feelings, so when an ounce of feeling for you creeped up on him… he freaked. He suddenly felt like the world was collapsing under him and if that’s what love felt like, he didn’t want it.

“What does this mean for us?” You asked, seeing how the question left him frozen.

“What do you mean?” He tried to play dumb so hopefully you would just drop it, he begged of you to let him fuck you and leave so he wouldn’t have to deal with his feelings.

“I mean… I told you I haven’t felt this way about anyone before, I didn’t just give you my virginity just because..” you stated, eyes slightly watering as you could see yourself alone already.

Daryl didn’t mean to make you cry, he didn’t want to make you cry ever. God damn he just wanted to be alone now, he thought about you all the time, there wasn’t a single day he didn’t. He told himself that he hated you, you and your stupid optimism but it was just a way to trick himself because he knew he loved that about you. You were so happy and so hopeful, he was the complete opposite of that, and what do they say about the opposite? How do they attract each other?

“I ain’t good with labels” was all he said, not explaining what he meant by that.

It made your heart break slightly, you felt the same way about Daryl but you saw the way he pushed you away. He almost never allowed you to get close to him, ever. So you tried to push down the thoughts you had of him, even the dirty ones you would get at night. Hearing how maybe the man you had fallen in love with was willing to fuck you and than leave, it broke your heart. Daryl picked up on your change of posture, fuck he really didn’t mean it to come out like that.

“But this ain’t a one night stand if that’s what yer thinking.” He reassured me, hoping to get you to stop being so sad. “I do care about you…”

The confession made your heart flutter, you weren’t there what this meant, if this’ll be the start of something or you’ll just remain each other’s fuck buddies. What you did know was what the world meant to you, every word that left his mouth meant something to you. You knew that was his way of confessing he did have feelings for you, causing a big smile to appear on your face.

“You know what,” you started, wrapping yourself up in the sheet. “I’ll take it…”

#daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #twd daryl #the walking dead

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narcissistshandler · 7 months

Note

giving miguel head while he explains complicated concepts of the multiverse. 😳 at first he chuckles when reader requests this, but he starts to struggle and lose track of what he was talking about. his voice becomes more desperate as he tries to explain all this stuff he knows to reader with his talons gripping at his love’s skull and his voice shaking and melting into pretty breathy moans until he can’t think of what he was talking about and instead fucks reader’s throat til he’s an overstimulated, sobbing mess

𝗧𝗘𝗔𝗖𝗛 𝗠𝗘

✧ 𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦 gn!reader x miguel o'hara

✧ 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲 blowjob (reader giving), deep throat, slight overstimulation at the end, reader has no gender or genitalia mentioned, a little of blood

✧ 𝖠/𝖭 This was in my drafts for two weeks and honestly I don't remember what/how I wrote half of it, but still, this request was delicious

"—Are you listening to me?"

You blinked, seeming to come back to reality and looked into Miguel's judgmental brown eyes.

"I've been speaking Spanish for the last ten minutes," he continued before you had time to speak.

"I am," you insisted. Your first instinct was to lie. The truth was no, you weren't paying the slightest attention to any of all that complicated science and physics coming out of Miguel's mouth, even though from the beginning your focus hadn't left his lips framing every complex and long word, occasionally rising to appreciate that expression of concentration on his usually serious face that shouldn't be so erotic to anyone but you.

Miguel's eyes fell to your lap, as if he could see through the pillow you were holding, his brow immediately frowning in that way that indicated his bad mood.

"So what is the simple concept of what constitutes a Multiverse?" he questioned, sounding so much like a hot, strict teacher that you felt your sex throb in response, too distracted to even try to think of an answer. "What are the ways to overcome the barriers that separate our world from other universes?" Silence. "What happens when there is a divergence in events? Where does the variety of these universes originate?"

You knew the answer to some of these questions as someone who had heard more than enough about this subject: the multiverse was nothing more than the aggregate of parallel realities and bla bla bla. But that wasn't what Miguel wanted to hear, he wanted concise, long and scientifically coherent answers and that's why you preferred to keep your mouth shut.

"You weren't listening," he concluded with a sigh.

"Keep talking, I'll pay attention this time."

Miguel looked into your darkened eyes, noting the warm innuendo in your tone and then once again, his attention fell to the pillow that covered your lap. "You're excited," he observed, then continued seeming disgusted and irritated: "Why? Physics does that to you?"

“You do this to me,” you said. Miguel's expression seemed to become even darker. "You always seem so focused and intelligent while talking about these things I can't understand, it's sexy."

"You were the one who asked me to teach you, I didn't know this was a fantasy of yours," he pointed out.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," you asked soflty as you got up from the sofa where you sat next to Miguel and fell to your knees in front of his feet, your hands running up his bare legs until they slid under the hem of his shorts. "Continue teaching me, please? I promise I'll pay attention this time."

Miguel half growled at you, not seeming too willing to indulge in your fantasies even as his legs opened in pure muscle memory to give you room to fit between them and desire flashed in his eyes.

"How are you supposed to pay attention to what I say with my penis in your mouth? That doesn't seem like a very concise teaching method." Even with you kneeling in front of him on the floor of the apartment's living room, Miguel seemed genuinely concerned about teaching you some real knowledge about multiverse.

You rubbed your hand against the bulge in his shorts to bring him to hardness, laughing a little at how genuine Miguel was sometimes.

"You talk, I listen, then you can test me to see if I really learned something or not."

Miguel opened his mouth, looking ready to retort with some argument, but your fingers fitting into the elastic waistband of his shorts was enough to make him swallow back his words. “Okay,” he agreed finally, lifting his hips off the couch to let you pull his shorts down his legs and discard them on the floor.

"Without underwear?" You inquired teasingly, your fingers closing around Miguel's thick cock that was slowly getting hard for you and pulling him into slow, steady thrusts.

Miguel sighed at the sudden touch, a light blush coloring his cheeks at the teasing.

"Back to the beginning," he started to say, ignoring your words. "When we talk about the Multiverse, this refers to a conception of multiple universes or parallel realities existing simultaneously. Together, these universes are presumed to comprise everything that exists: the entirety of space, time, matter, energy..."

Your tongue trailed in a wet line from the base to the head, interrupting Miguel's speech as he trailed off with a soft sigh.

That usual satisfaction made you smile between the licks you dragged along his length, feeling the pulsation of the bulging veins against your tongue, your fingers keeping his dick firm at the base. Your lips parted, gently sucking the side of the bulbous, red head where drops of precum were beginning to leak.

Miguel let out the most beautiful moan, one of his hands falling into your hair.

“Oh,” he sighed softly, voice already falling into that deep tone that always did things to you. You looked up at the same time you slid your tongue over the slit leaking from his cock; Miguel's eyes met yours, warm and shining. He took a deep breath and continued speaking: "In the concept of multiverse, a scheme is imagined in which... all universes aggregate each other across an infinite vastness..."

He looked so composed even with your mouth on his dick and you wanted to break that composure of his until it became nothing, until his mind stopped working and the only coherent thought he had left was fucking your throat.

Miguel doesn't stop talking when your fingers tighten around his length in a grip that borders on painful and your mouth opens so you can take his length. His cock filled your mouth, the warm, smooth skin sliding over your tongue and inward in a delicious, welcome weight that made your skin tingle. Almost instinctively, you searched for more, leaning forward and taking him deeper, your free hand feeling Miguel's thigh muscles tense under your touch.

Saliva pooled in your mouth and as soon as you pulled your head back, spit slid down his length to his heavy balls and a wet line ran down your chin, a mess you knew Miguel liked. As expected, his breathing stuttered and you saw him losing his train of thought at the sight of your saliva-glossy lips stretching around the thickness of his dick.

"...In addition to the state superpos- superposition property, there are many other phenomena that occur as quantum-scale systems, such as quantum tunneling, quantum e-entanglement..."

The firm fingers tangled in the strands of your hair suddenly became sharper, like thick needles scratching your scalp. The threat of the grab hung in the air, filling your stomach with a tense heat as you realized they were Miguel's deadly talons, which could penetrate through the fragility of your skin in seconds and even an accidental scratch could draw blood. This realization shook you to the core and a moan rose in your throat.

"... So you can connect gravity and the other three forces in an apparently firm way?" he panted, sweat glistening on his forehead. "Dios mío."

It took you a few seconds to understand the jumbled words that came out of his mouth, but when you did you knew that you had achieved your objective, as the argument didn't seem to fit into any part of the multiverse theory.

Tears blocked the corners of your vision, jaw opening wider to take Miguel's cock deeper, the tip slapping against your cheek and tongue before going deeper, and then more and more. The salty taste of precum, sweat, and something else you could only describe as Miguel's taste rising in the back of your throat, clouding all your senses and pushing away the urgency burning between your legs. All that mattered was Miguel.

At that moment, your entire world was just Miguel's body contracting on the couch under the heat of your mouth, the heavy leg he had thrown over your shoulder and his heel digging into your shoulder blade in an attempt to bring you impossibly closer. There was a distinct feeling of discomfort growing in your body, Miguel's grip was strong and painful, his rationality seemed to have dissolved under the pleasure.

"[n-name] [name] [name] [name], por favor." The beautiful moans of your name in his voice echoed through the room in repeated, stammered repetitions.

The gag reflex kicked in, the bulbous head of Miguel's cock pressing past the tightness of your throat. Your eyes closed in an attempt to fight the immediate instinct to choke and suffocate, the desire to give Miguel everything he wanted was stronger. You willingly obeyed the grip of the talons on your head keeping you still, your mouth falling open and easy for the deep thrusts.

Resisting him, the urgency with which his hips undulated, as if he needed the pleasure to breathe, felt equal to having at least one pulled muscle and a deep cut left behind.

Fortunately, fighting him was far from your intention.

You could feel as his dick twitched inside your mouth and the thick, salty liquid filled your throat, which rose and fell as you swallowed. Your eyes opened, tears running down your cheeks, you closed your lips around Miguel's pulsing length, sucking. Miguel's reaction was lascivious, his thrusts becoming erratic, whole body shaking violently, his talons sinking at least a few centimeters into your skin, until it breaks under the pressure.

Hot liquid ran down the back of your neck, the pain was a distant thing in your warm body, your fingers digging into the soft skin of Miguel's thighs as you pressed the nose against the curly hair of his groin. Miguel whimpered as his cock continued to spurt small jets deep down your throat, tears glistening in his eyes and fangs sinking into the lower lip.

You had lied again, you hadn't paid attention to anything he said, but it didn't matter since you doubted that Miguel remembered what even was a subatomic particle now.

#x male reader #x gn reader #across the spiderverse x reader #across the spiderverse x male reader #across the spiderverse x gn reader #miguel o'hara x male reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x gender neutral reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #atsv x male reader #atsv x gn reader #atsv x reader #atsv smut

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jewelleria · 28 days

Text

I don’t usually talk about politics on here, if ever. But it’s been almost six months since the conflict in the Middle East flared up again, and I’m finally ready to start. Here are some of my thoughts.

I say ‘flared up’ because this has happened before and it’ll happen again. Because, even though what's currently going on is absolutely unprecedented, those of us who live in this part of the world are used to it. Let that sink in: we are used to this. And we shouldn’t have to be.

But I use that term for another reason: I don't want to accidentally call it the wrong thing lest I come under fire for being a genocidal maniac or a terrorist or a propaganda machine, etc., etc.—so let’s just call it ‘the war’ or ‘the conflict.’ Because that’s what it is. Doesn’t matter which side you’re on, who you love, or who you hate.

This post will, in all likelihood, sit in my drafts forever. If it does get posted, it certainly won’t be on my main, because I'm scared of being harassed (spoiler: she posted it on her main). I hate admitting that, but honestly? I’m fucking terrified.

I also feel like in order for anything I say on here (i.e. the hellscape of the internet) to be taken seriously, I have to somehow prove that a) I’m “educated” enough to talk about the conflict, and b) that my opinion lines up with what has been deemed the correct one. So, tedious and unnecessary though it is, I will tell you about my experience, because I have a feeling most of the people reading this post are not nearly as close to what’s happening as I am.

How do I explain where I live without actually explaining where I live? How do I say “I live in the Red Zone of international conflicts” without saying what I actually think? How do I convey the fear that grips me when I try to decide between saying “I live in Palestine” and “I live in Israel”? I don't really know. But I do know that names are important. I also know that, due to the various clickbaity monikers ascribed to the conflict, it would probably just be easier to point to a map.

I haven't always lived in the Middle East. I've lived in various places along America’s east coast, and traveled all over the world. But in short, I now live somewhere inside the crudely-drawn purple circle.

If you know anything about these borders you probably blanched a bit in sympathy, or maybe condolence. But in truth, it’s a shockingly normal existence. I don't feel like I've lived through the shifting of international relations or a war or anything. I just kind of feel like I did when COVID hit, that dull sameness as I wondered if this would be the only world-altering event to shape my life, or if there would be more.

I've been told that, in order for my brain to process all the horrific details of the past six months, there needs to be some element of cognitive dissonance—that falling into a sort of dissociative mindset is the only way to not go insane under the weight of it all. I think in some ways that’s true. I have been terrifyingly close to bus stop shootings when my commute wasn’t over; I have felt my apartment building shake with the reverberations of a missile strike; I have spent hours in underground shelters waiting for air raid sirens to stop.

But. I have also gone grocery shopping, and skipped class, and stayed up too late watching TV, and fed the cats on the street corner, and cried over a boy, and got myself AirPods just because, and taken out the trash, and done laundry on a delicate cycle, and bought overpriced lattes one too many days a week. I have looked at pretty things and taken out my phone because, despite it all, I still think that life is too short not to freeze the small moments.

So I'd say, all things considered, I live an incredibly privileged life—compared, of course, to those suffering in Gaza—one filled with sunsets and over-sweetened knafeh and every different color of sand. One that allows me to throw myself into a fandom-induced hyperfixation (or, alternatively, escape method) as I sit on the couch and crack open my laptop to write the next chapter of the fic I'm working on.

But there are bits of not-normalness that wheedle their way through the cracks. I pretend these moments are avoidable, even if they’re not.

They look like this: reading the news and seeing another idiotic, careless choice on Netanyahu’s part and groaning into my morning coffee. Watching Palestinian and Jewish children’s needless suffering posted on Instagram reels and feeling helpless. Opening my Tumblr DMs to find a message telling me to exterminate myself for reblogging a post that only seems like it’s about the war if you squint and tilt your head sideways.

These moments look like all the tiny ways I am reminded that I'm living in a post-October seventh world, where hearing a car backfire makes me jump out of my skin and the sound of a suitcase on pavement makes me look up at the sky and search for the war planes. They look like the heavy grief that is, and also isn’t, mine.

Here's the thing, though. I know you’re wondering when the ball will drop and my true opinion will be revealed. I know you’re waiting for me to reveal what demographic I'm a part of so that you, dear reader, can neatly slap a label on my head and sort me into some oversimplified category that lets you continue to think you understand this war.

No one wants to sit and ruminate on the difficult questions, the ones that make you wonder if maybe you’ve been tinkered with by the propaganda machine, if you might need to go back on what you’ve said or change your mind. We all strive for our perception of complicated issues to be a comfortable one.

But I know that no matter what I do, there will always be assumptions. So, while I shudder to reveal this information online, I think that maybe my most significant contribution to this meta-discussion spanning every facet of the internet is this:

I am a Jew.

Or, alternatively, I am: Jewish, יהודית, يَهُودِيٌّ, etc. Point is, I come from Jews. And, like any given person, I am a product of generation after generation of love.

I'm not going to take time to explain my heritage to you, or to prove that before all the expulsions and pogroms, there was an origin point. If you don’t believe that, perhaps it’s less of a factual problem and more of an ‘I don’t give weight to the beliefs of indigenous people’ problem. But, in case you want to spend time uselessly refuting this tiny point in a larger argument, you can inspect the photos below (it’s just a small chunk of my DNA test results). Alternatively, you can remember that interrogating someone in an attempt to make their indigeneity match your arbitrary criteria is generally not seen as good manners.

Now, let’s go back to thathateful message (read: poorly disguised death threat) I received in my Tumblr DMs. I think it was like two or three weeks ago. I had recently gained a new follower whose blog’s primary focus was the fandom I contribute to, so I followed them back. I saw in my notes that they were going through my posts and liking them—as one does when gaining a new mutual. Yippee!

Then they sent me this:

I tried to explain that hate speech is not a way to go about participating in political discourse, but the person had already blocked me immediately after sending that message. Then, assured by the fact that I surely would never see them complaining about me on their blog (because, as I said, they blocked me), they posted a shouting rant accusing me of sympathizing with colonizing settlers and declaring me a “racist Zionist fuck.” Oh, the wonders of incognito tabs.

Where this person drew these conclusions after reading my (reblogged) post about antisemitism…. I'm not actually sure. But I greatly sympathize with them, and hope that they weren’t too personally offended by my desire to not die.

For a while I contemplated this experience in my righteous anger, and tried to figure out a way to message this person. I wanted to explain that a) seeing a post about being Jewish and choosing to harass the creator about Israel is literally the definition of antisemitism and b) that sending a hateful DM and refusing to be held accountable is just childish and immature. But I gave up soon after—because, honestly, I knew it wasn’t worth my effort or energy. And I knew that I wouldn't be able to change their mind.

But I still remember staring at that rather unfortunate meme, accompanied by an all-caps message demanding for me to Free Palestine, and thinking: the post didn’t even have any buzzwords. I remember the swoop of dread and guilt and fear. I remember wondering why this kind of antisemitism felt worse, in that moment, than the kind that leaves bodies in its wake.

I remember thinking, I don’t have the power to free anyone.

I remember thinking, I’m so fucking tired.

And before you tell me that this conflict isn’t about religion—let me ask you some questions. Why is it that Israel is even called Israel? (Here’s why.) Why do Jews even want it? (Here’s why.) But also, if you actually read the charters of Islamist terrorist organizations like ISIS, Hamas, and Hezbollah (among others), they equate the modern state of Israel with the Jewish people, and they use the two entities interchangeably. So of course this conflict is religious. It’s never been anything but that.

But I do wonder, when faced with those who deny this fact: how do I prove, through an endless slew of what-about-isms and victim blaming, that I too am hurting? How do I show that empathy is dialectical, that I can care deeply for Palestinians and Gazans while also grieving my own people?

There's this thing that humans do, when we’re frustrated about politics and need to howl our opinions about it into the void until we feel better. We find like-minded souls, usually our friends and neighbors, and fret about the state of the world to each other until we’ve gone around in a satisfactory amount of circles. But these conversations never truly accomplish anything. They’re just a substitute, a stand-in catharsis, for what we really wish we could do: find someone who embodies the spirit of every Jew-hating internet troll, every ignorant justifier of terrorism, and scream ourselves hoarse at them until we change their mind.

But, of course, minds cannot be changed when they are determined to live in a state of irrational dislike. In Judaism, this way of thinking has a name: שנאת חינם (sinat hinam), or baseless hatred. It's a parasite with no definite cure, and it makes people bend over backwards to justify things like the massacre on October seventh, simply because the blame always needs to be placed on the Jews.

So when a Jew is faced with this unsolvable problem, there is only one response to be had, only one feeling to be felt: anger. And we are angry. Carrying around rage with nowhere to put it is exhausting. It's like a weight at the base of our neck that pushes down on our spine, bending it until we will inevitably snap under the pressure. I’m still waiting to break, even now.

I wish I could explain to someone who needs to hear it that terrorism against Israelis happens every single day here, and that we are never more than one degree of separation away from the brutal slaughter of a friend, lover, parent, sibling. I wish it would be enough to say that the majority of Israelis (which includes Arab-Israeli citizens who have the exact same rights as Jewish-Israelis) wish for peace every day without ever having seen what it looks like.

I wish I could show the world that Israel was founded as a socialist state, that it was built on communal values and born from a cluster of kibbutzim (small farming communities based on collective responsibility), and that what it is now isn’t what its people stand for.

I wish the world could open their eyes to what we Israelis have seen since the beginning: that Hamas is the enemy, Hamas is the one starving Palestinians and denying them aid, Hamas is the one who keeps rejecting ceasefire terms and denying their citizens basic human rights. Hamas is the governing body of Gaza, not Israel. Hamas is responsible for the wellbeing of the Palestinian people. And Hamas are the ones who are more determined to murder Jews—over and over and over again, in the most animalistic ways possible—than to look inwards and see the suffering they’ve inflicted on their own people. I wish it was easier to see that.

But the wishing, the asking how can people be so blind, is never enough. I can never just say, I promise I don't want war.

When I bear witness to this baseless hatred, I think of the victims of October seventh. I think of the women and girls who were raped and then murdered, forever unable to tell their stories. I think of the hostages, trapped underneath Gaza in dark tunnels, wondering if anyone will come for them. I think of Ori Ansbacher, of Ezra Schwartz, of Eyal, Gilad, and Naftali, of Lucy, Rina, and Maia Dee, of the Paley boys, of Ari Fuld and of Nachshon Wachsman. I think of all the innocent blood spilled because of terror-fueled hatred and the virus of antisemitism. I think of all the thousands of people who were brutally murdered in Israel, Jews and Muslims and Christians and humans, who will never see peace.

My ties to this land are knotted a thousand times over. Even when I leave, a part of me is left behind, waiting for me to claim it when I return. But when I see the grit it takes to live through this pain, when I see the suffering that paints the world the color of blood, I look to the heavens and I wonder why.

I ask God: is it worth all this? He doesn't answer. So I am the one, in the end, to answer my own question. I say, it has to be.

Feel free to send any genuine, respectful, and clarifying questions you may have to my inbox!

EDIT: just coming on here to say that I'm really touched & grateful for the love on this post. When I wrote it, I felt hopeless; I logged off of Tumblr for Shabbat, dreading the moment I would turn off my phone to find more hate in my inbox. Granted, I did find some, and responding to it was exhausting, but it wasn’t all hate. I read every kind reblog and comment, and the love was so much louder. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 🤍

Source Reading

The Whispered in Gaza Project by The Center for Peace Communications

Why Jews Cannot Stop Shaking Right Now by Dara Horn

Hamas Kidnapped My Father for Refusing to Be Their Puppet by Ala Mohammed Mushtaha

I Hope Someone Somewhere Is Being Kind to My Boy by Rachel Goldberg

The Struggle for Black Freedom Has Nothing to Do with Israel by Coleman Hughes

Israel Can Defend Itself and Uphold Its Values by The New York Times Editorial Board

There Is a Jewish Hope for Palestinian Liberation. It Must Survive by Peter Beinart

The Long Wait of the Hostages’ Families by Ruth Margalit

“By Any Means Necessary”: Hamas, Iran, and the Left by Armin Navabi

When People Tell You Who They Are, Believe Them by Bari Weiss

Hunger in Gaza: Blame Hamas, Not Israel by Yvette Miller

Benjamin Netanyahu Is Israel’s Worst Prime Minister Ever by Anshel Pfeffer

What Palestinians Really Think of Hamas by Amaney A. Jamal and Michael Robbins

The Decolonization Narrative Is Dangerous and False by Simon Sebag Montefiore

Understanding Hamas’s Genocidal Ideology by Bruce Hoffman

The Wisdom of Hamas by Matti Friedman

How the UN Discriminates Against Israel by Dina Rovner

This Muslim Israeli Woman Is the Future of the Middle East by The Free Press

Why Are Feminists Silent on Rape and Murder? by Bari Weiss

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tartaroooo · 28 days

Text

One More Night

Hookups were supposedly a one- time thing. A way to have fun without getting attached.

So why the fuck does he keep coming back to you?

Scaramouche x Gn!Reader

A/n: A quick edit of a draft I've had in my notes for a while now.

Art credits: ike_0910

Warning: Slight nsfw, cursing

Scaramouche despises hookups.

To be tangled within the sheets with a complete stranger, the idea repulsed him to no end. Honestly, it was rather pathetic. It was nothing more than a desperate act of attention. A despondent call to those terrified of estrangement. But archons forbid, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't the least bit curious.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try at least once?

Besides, stress has been eating him up lately. He needed a way to clear his thoughts and forget. To let go and revel in the pleasure of losing himself in his inhibitions.

But there must be something wrong with his hookup. Weren't they supposedly a one- time thing? A way to have fun without getting attached?

So why the fuck does he keep coming back to you?

Why does he insist on keeping you on his bed, with a part of him wishing you'd stay there forever?

He hated this so much.

Words can’t express how much he loathes this thing referred to as attachment. He refuses to let his emotions run rampant again and undergo the heartbreak of treachery. He’s been betrayed three times. He’s not letting you be his fourth one.

Yet here he was, in bed with you for the 5th time this week, lips locked in a fiery fit of passion. Your wrists were pinned above your head, it was scary how he didn’t want to let you go. How despite his repugnance towards devotion, his hypocrisy ruled with the thoughts of keeping you in place.

"You taste so fucking good…", he mumbles as his breath brushes against your lips. Your skin was redolent of fresh lemon with the base of woody amber, the bed sheets stained with the scent of your perfume. The air was heavy, choking the last of his self-control. He eyes you, taking shallow breaths underneath him as you tried to catch your breath. He couldn’t help the twitch of his lips as you never fail to provide him with the dopamine of having control. He dives in for another kiss, this time devoid of passion and merely fueled by his hunger. Hunger for you. For the delightful moans that slip out your pretty, little mouth when he pounds relentlessly into you. For the way your body arches when he rakes his fingernails across your smooth skin, all the while his hips snap forward to hit that spot deep within you. A certain area only he knows that would drive you crazy.

He was obsessed with this feeling.

He knows that he should've let you go already, that this is something that shouldn't be happening. But dear archons forgive him because being wrong never felt so right. You were like a poison who seeped into his veins, rewiring his brain to be filled with thoughts regarding you and you alone. You collapsed the building of his very morals, turned everything he stood up for into non-existent debris.

"One more night…" He mutters, burying his face into the crook of your neck. It would be a comforting gesture, if not for the fact that he sinks his teeth into your skin and gnaws on it like a piece of meat. He’s sure that's going to leave a mark tomorrow yet it doesn’t stop the sinful moan that escapes your throat, an invitation for him to keep going. And he will most definitely keep going. His sense of judgement disintegrated when you hooked your arms around his neck, reciprocating his intense desire that tarnished both your bodies and short circuited your willpower. Nothing else mattered. Just you and his desire to have his way with you until he's satisfied.

A low chuckle escapes from the confines of his throat as he saw how much of a mess you became. A mess that belonged in his museum of you, framed, sculpted or whatever way its preserved. With a smirk that seemed to widen every passing minute, his fingers lightly trace the curve of your spine.

He just couldn't get enough of you.

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4ngel-inc · 2 months

Text

࿔*:･ OBEY ME — how they kiss you ࿐

summary / tags — how passionate they are when they kiss you ᰔ fluff, suggestive, some teasing / dirty talk. eeeee i'm back on my obey me kick !! i forgot how gorgeous lucifer is :'))

♱ LUCIFER — 𝓹𝓪𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓴𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓼

lucifer is a romantic, his heart is full of passion but he rarely has the time or privacy to express it to you—when he finally gets you alone, all to himself, he still treats you with such love and patience. he never rushes, he feels you deserve the utmost respect and tenderness. he slips his hands around your waist slowly, making sure you're comfortable with his affection even after giving it to you so many times. "how was your day, a little stressful, i'm sure?" you've been studying hard for your exams at RAD, and he's been missing you with how much he's been studying and organizing recent events as well. you nod, pouting a little, and he can't stop the passion pouring out of his heart for you. lucifer is a very private person, and he's good at suppressing his feelings when in a professional setting—however, as soon as he gazes into your eyes, no one around to interrupt or distract him, he remembers why he fell for you so hard. his hands are on your face in an instant, and his tongue slips into your mouth so dominantly, yet so tenderly, his tongue caressing yours in an intimate, slow kiss that makes your knees week. he always gazes into your eyes after pulling away, tucking your hair behind your ear, "i've been neglecting you lately, dear, let me make it up to you."

♱ MAMMON — 𝓻𝓾𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓭 𝓴𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓼

mammon always has a lot going on, he's always drafting up some get rich quick scheme or the like, and he's very social. he likes attention, and though he prefers to get it from you, he also likes to hang out with "friends," his definition of which is pretty much anyone who will compliment him or laugh at his cheesy jokes. overall, he just always likes to be doing something, but he does make time to give you quick kisses throughout the day, though he leaves you wanting more every time. he's always running around from sun up to sun down, but when he does finally get you alone, he's very clingy. he realizes how much he missed you all day when his lips are finally on yours in a way that isn't rushed, and his mind is calm as his hands trace over your skin, running up your chest before gripping your jaw and kissing you deeply. "didn't realize how much i miss ya today, had too much goin' on." you laugh, "that's alright, babe, but i'm gonna need a few more kisses to make up for it." he smirks, "oh, i'll give ya a lot more than that, honey pie, you've finally got the mammon all to yourself, what are ya gonna do about it?" he doesn't give you a chance to respond as he presses your back into the bed, kissing you deeper this time.

♱ SATAN — 𝓼𝓱𝔂 𝓴𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓼

satan isn't one to indulge in PDA, not because he doesn't love you, but because he simply wants to keep affectionate moments like that just between the two of you. like lucifer, he's a very private person, though he doesn't mind the occasional kiss in public—it's shy though, very quick and chaste as he glances around to make sure no one's looking before giving you an innocent peck on the lips. "is that enough for now, dear?" it's never enough, honestly, you'd spend forever kissing him if he'd let you. "mmm, i guess. i'll see you later, then?" he sends you off with a hug as he returns to his meeting or whatever he's doing that day, but you always miss him the second he's gone. the moment you both return home at the end of the day is always the best of times, his kisses finally become deeper and more lustful, "you didn't get into any trouble while i was gone, huh? didn't kiss anyone else? i know i left you hanging earlier, but. . ." you whine as he places soft kisses down your neck, "i'm here now, you still want me, don't you?" though he's only teasing, he knows you'd never kiss anyone else, he just loves to hear you say it. "i'm only yours, you know that," you pout, "you don't kiss me enough, though." "it's just between you and i, honey, i want to keep it that way. i'll show you how much you mean to me now, how's that sound?"

♱ DIAVOLO — 𝓭𝓸𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝓴𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓼

diavolo, as you can guess, is quite dominant. he likes to be in control of everything, though, when he's alone with you, he's so sweet and soft you almost feel like you're in a dream. he has two sides, and though you try not to bother him when he's working or in professional settings, sometimes, you just can't help it—he isn't unfamiliar with you walking into his office and asking for a kiss, though you're shy about it, you're never sure if he's in the mood—however, he always surprises you, and beckons you forward to him, excusing them if anyone is in the office with him. "come here, i only have a few minutes, i hope that's alright." you always expect a chaste kiss, but instead, you receive something deep and passionate. he grabs the back of your hair and crushes your lips to his, cupping your jaw and pressing his tongue against yours. his hands like to explore your hips and waist when he kisses you, gripping your skin harshly, almost in an attempt to let you know you're his, and only his. "that was quite pleasant, i expect we can continue this at home? i have work to do, i'm sorry, love." you smile nonetheless, though your eyes are still closed, expecting more kisses, "just a few more? i want something to think about later when i'm home alone." he smirks, "i like the sound of that."

♱ BEELZEBUB — 𝓱𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓻𝔂 𝓴𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓼

beelzebub is quite gluttonous in all things, and that includes you. if he had to choose between food and you, he hates to admit it, but he'd choose you, you taste that good. he loves everything about kissing you—how soft your lips feel, how your eyes flutter closed when his tongue glides against yours, the cutest little groan rumbling in your throat. things always start slowly, but quickly escalate to something more primal and hungry. "more- i need more," no amount of kisses could ever satiate him, and he doesn't care to pull away until you make him. "beel, i'm right here, don't worry." "no, i need to feel you, i want more, you taste so good." you've learned that, when kissing beel, things almost always turn into a full-blown makeout session, so you're sure to clear your schedule before anything intimate happens between you two. even after an hour or so of kissing you, he still wants more—and you find yourself having to pull away, lips swollen and eyes glossy from how much you want him. beel is big on kissing, and foreplay in general, but sometimes you have to rush him a little. "honey, is this going anywhere? i'm getting a little. . . antsy." he smiles, "just a few more kisses, then i'll give you what you want, baby. let me enjoy this treat a little while longer."

#— love notes: [obey me] ୧ ‧₊#obey me x reader #obey me x you #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #beelzebub x reader #diavolo x reader #satan x reader #obey me x mc

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milliesdiary · 1 year

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What if you are Jace's sister and he realizes you are in love with Aemond (and he also finds out that you two have been having premarital sex) which causes a fight so you go to Aemond for comfort and he soothes you

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐕𝐎𝐖

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬; princess!reader, targcest, mentions of sex. for some context: reader is daemon’s bastard child who rhaenyra welcomed as a part of the family. yes, aemond is a hypocrite :/ we still love him tho!!

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; ngl this has been sitting in my drafts for awhile because i hate it. im going to be working on commissions for a bit though, so i decided to post it anyway to keep you guys fed :) please reblog and comment with your feedback. it means the world to me and keeps me motivated! ♡

"𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃."

Those were Jace’s words the second you walked into the dining room for breakfast. They take you aback, shock you into a frozen stupor.

You and your family have been in King’s Landing for the past few weeks, trying to set aside their differences with the Greens and do their best to reconcile. It has been rough for your younger brothers, though you have been having a brilliant time.

You and Helaena spend plenty of time together, Alicent treats you kindly, and Aegon leaves you alone. And Aemond? Well... you and Aemond are closer than most in terms of relationships.

But that’s a story for another day.

No one else is in the room thankfully — Luke wakes up later in the day, Helaena is presumably outside catching bugs, and your mother is probably off at a meeting with the court — so it’s just you, your younger brother, and the few servants that set the table.

“What?”

Jace gives you an unimpressed look; his chestnut-brown eyes are slightly narrowed, lips melded into a frown. “You love Aemond,” he repeats.

Your heart nearly stops when he says it, and you’re instantly terrified you’ve been caught. It would appear that misfortune has a tendency of catching you off guard. You honestly don’t know what to say.

“...That is quite an accusation,” you try to deadpan. That heated expression of his is chilling; you invite him to sit next to you in hopes of extinguishing it. “Why don’t you just sit down and eat?”

Jace isn’t deterred. He holds his head high and keeps his voice stern; a trait he has undoubtedly learned from your mother. “You told me a couple moons ago that you had no affections for him.”

Oh, Gods. You don’t really want to sit here and listen to him complain about how much of a burden you are from rejecting all of your parents’ attempts at arranging a marriage. For hating every single man they tried to set you up with. You scold yourself more than enough.

“I know what I said. And I mean it. I do not love him, Jace.” You let out a nervous laugh, trying to come across as naïve. The servants are staring now. “What has brought this on?”

“You must think of me as a fool.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you acting so innocent?”

“I don’t love him, Jacaerys. I swear it.” A bitter lie.

For a fleeting moment, you think you’ve won; your brother stands next to the table without saying a word, his mouth clamped shut as he bites the inside of his cheek.

And then he drops the bomb.

“I know you have been seeing each other,” Jace says. It doesn’t come out as a question; it’s a statement. “Stealing each other away in the night.”

Your heart drops in a single second. How does he...?

For these past few weeks, you thought you were being careful. Undetected. There was never anyone around when you slipped through the dark halls of the Red Keep every night and sidled up to Aemond’s door. Not a single voice to stop you as Aemond tugged you into his room and spoke High Valyrian in your ear as he undressed you, as he kissed you senseless, fucked you senseless. It was a dangerous game, of course — but you never actually expected to get caught.

“…Where did you hear that?”

“A kingsguard told me that you parted from his company last night.” Jace’s mouth twists into a disgusted frown. He hesitates, almost like he physically can’t say what comes next. “...From his chambers.”

In that moment, you knew it was over. The gist was up.

“Jace…”

“Tell me it isn’t true.”

And that’s the thing: you can’t say you don’t love Aemond, because it would be the furthest thing from the truth. Your hands fall to your lap and you fist your hands in the skirt of your dress, begging for courage.

“Don’t tell mother.”

Your response — shameful and pleading — speaks volumes. It makes Jace’s skin boil; he had been praying that the knight was wrong. And that hope he clung to so religiously? It’s gone. You can feel the symptoms of a dispute brewing: sweaty hands, agitated eyes, labored breathing. Tension hangs over you like a dark cloud and refuses to dissipate.

“Why?” Jace looks disgusted, repulsed even. It sparks a flame inside you. “You saw his true colors that night. All of us did. Baela, Rhaena. Luke.”

You know what he’s referring to. It is a memory that you want to squeeze the life out of.

“I thought we talked about you sorting out your priorities,” he continues. “What self-respecting daughter of the future Queen runs off and beds whoever she likes without a marriage proposal?”

Yes, perhaps your growing annoyance is misplaced. Your brother wants the best for you, and it’s only natural that he would have his reservations about Aemond.

But he doesn’t know the man like you do; he hasn’t seen his hidden softness.

Sometimes people lose their ability to be recognized when they are joyful — in a pleasant way, of course. Aemond is one of those people. You’ve seen him smile once before. Truly smile. It was not sly, snarky, or coy; for once, it was the sincere kind. You wished he would do it more. It was incredibly beautiful.

If only Jace could have experienced it.

“Don’t speak about him like that,” you mumble.

"I won't restrain myself to appease your ignorance.”

Inhaling sharply, you take a seat at the table and busy yourself by playing with the napkin beside your plate. It’s a feeble attempt at controlling your rising panic. Jace must think you’re acting a bit too calm, because he seems to bristle at your alleged indifference. “I am sorry I didn’t tell you. Really, I am. I was just scared—“

“You lied.”

“It was a white lie. No harm was meant to come from it.”

Jace fixes you with a firm scowl. “A white lie? A white lie? Meddling with our uncle who you are not betrothed to is not something that just happens.”

“You are blowing this out of proportion. I did it to keep you from getting upset and—“

“This is not just about the lie itself,” Jace huffs.

“Then what is it?”

“You believed I wasn't worth your honesty.”

Your gut tightens at his remark — you know he’s right and that he deserves to be informed of such things. Finding out that someone you care for is hiding something this important is a rude awakening.

But you can’t stop.

“I knew you would act like this,” you retort. Raising your voice wasn’t planned, but it happens anyway. It feels like your veins are being ripped to bits as the telltale marks of wrath sweep throughout your body. “I will do you a favor next time and not tell you anything at all.”

“Or you could not encourage him,” Jace spits out. “You think that he does not act like his brother, Aegon? For all you know, he could be gallivanting with a servant every second he is not with you.”

Your jaw tightens so firmly that it seems to lock in place. You’re pissed now. “Aemond is not like that.”

“When you see him next, you can tell him to jump in the damn Dragonpit,” Jace continues. You aren’t used to hearing such crude language from him; it has you reeling. “Perhaps he’ll do that after he’s done fucking you.”

Something inside you bursts. Agonizingly. Ferociously. It's a jolt to your system that throws everything off-kilter. It is a painful fury that splits you in two.

You slam your palms down on the table and rise in your chair; you're astonished the wood doesn't split with the force of it. The plates and forks clatter, and Jace almost jumps. The servants bustling around you certainly do.

Your brother has some nerve. You want to spit foul names in his face. Wish to seize him by the collar and force him to kneel before your feet, because why? Why can’t you be with who you want? First it was Daemon who denied that you ever get betrothed to Aemond. Then it was your mother, and now it’s him.

“I do not need protecting, Jace!” Your chest is rising and falling faster now, like the erratic pull of the tides. It feels like there is so much bottled up energy inside of you that you could scream, erupt, or break something … you need to break something. You choose his spirit. “I don’t need you at all!”

Jace’s expression falls then. Along with it goes your anger.

His gaze flits to the ground for a second — as if the stone is a safe haven from your wrath — and you’re about to apologize when he lifts his chin to glare daggers at you.

“I get it now,” Jace laughs bitterly, shaking his head in disbelief. “You would do anything to be held by him. Ceasing to care about who he might hurt next and ignoring his callousness. You see only what you want.”

In his rage, Jace’s lips spew poison from deep in his chest, a dark place that you didn't even know he had.

“You make me wonder how I ended up with a delusional lunatic for a sister.“

Dead silence.

The two of you are just staring at each other now. Jace braces himself when you step away from your seat; he looks like he’s expecting you to slap him, like he’s preparing himself for the sting.

And as much as you would like to do it, you just walk away.

You’re not even sure if Jace tries to stop you at first. Not sure if a servant tries to tries to grab you by the arm. You are running on pure adrenaline, pure buzzing energy, blood pumping like a battle cry in both eardrums.

It takes until you’re exiting through the giant wooden doors to hear Jace yelling your name — and you loathe how worried he sounds, detest it — and then you’re practically running through the stone hallways.

You want to go to bed. Shut everyone out and sleep until you awaken in a different world: one where you are not expected to get married to certain people, where your brother doesn’t expect you to be a person you can’t, and the 'losing an eye’ thing never happened, and … and it’s just you, Aemond, wrapped up in the sheets of your mattress. That’s all.

The world is just cruel.

Every step echoes as you make a beeline for your room. Tears slip down your cheeks and your fists quake; everything hurts. Emotionally, at least. You’re too worn out, too aggravated, too... mad? Hell, you’re not even sure if you’re still mad. The emotion that rips you apart right now feels more like an indigo-drenched sadness than a red-hot anger.

It’s a strange, crushing feeling that has you stifling a sob while rounding a corner.

But, as if the universe hates you, you catch a glimpse of that ethereal man — the fucking bane of your existence — walking down the same hallway. His back is to you, long white hair swishing with every stride he takes, and his posture is strong.

You don’t want to ruin his day. Spoil the mood, or show how weak you can be.

You call out his name anyway, because there’s only one thing you can think of in this moment. A mantra:

I need you right now, My Prince.

I need you to truly look at me and understand me.

Aemond, I need you to see me.

The man turns then. He says your name, and you, who denied loving him, practically run and throw yourself into his arms.

For a moment, Aemond doesn’t move a muscle; he’s confused, at a total loss. But then his palms slowly come down to your waist, supporting your body as he allows you to sniffle into his tunic.

He doesn’t speak for awhile. Instead, he just looks down at you.

Your cheeks are dressed in tears that resemble droplets of honey. Your gardenia scented hair, pressed against his chest, is beautiful. He discovers an unexpected heaven amidst your grief.

“He doesn’t want us to be together,” you try to whisper, but the words falter and trickle pitifully out of your mouth. They lack the power that you so urgently need.

At first, Aemond is silent. He has no idea what you’re talking about; and then it clicks. Jace.

Aemond has never been one to comfort others. You don’t really expect him to do much, honestly. But when he decides to speak, his tone is gentle and holds no judgment. “Your dear brother has found out about our arrangement, I presume.”

You pull away slightly to stare up at Aemond. You drink in every plane of his face; those high cheekbones, his pretty lips, the silver hair that brushes the ridge of his jaw and the scar he hides. You want to absorb all of him.

Aemond’s hands come to rest on your elbows, and then they slide all the way down your arms until he’s tenderly holding you by the wrists. He doesn’t give you a chance to answer before speaking more resolutely. “Did he hurt you?”

“No — No, of course not,” you sniffle. Jace could be stubborn and fierce, but he would never lay a hand on you. “He was just being a brat. We got into an argument and he was ... he was mean.”

Aemond hums at that. “It must not have been too bad then. He is all bark and no bite,” he muses softly. Every syllable is gentle, each vowel soothing in its own right. He’s calm somehow.

It’s in these moments that you wish so deeply you could be like Aemond. Wish that you could stand your ground, despite wanting to run away. Wish that you could hold the barbs of someone’s anger in your palm and not get stung; not allow the sharp edges to slice under your skin and leave streams of blood in its wake.

But you are not strong like him.

With bated breath, you move to embrace Aemond once more, arms wrapping around his middle as you press your nose into the leather of his tunic.

It doesn’t last long.

Aemond leans into you, and then with both hands on your shoulders, gently tugs you away from his chest. You glance at him in confusion, and meet his gaze with an infantile glare.

For a second you think he doesn’t want to hug you. That he’s about to chide you for being a big baby, for getting in a fight with your sibling and blowing things out of proportion.

But then you quickly realize that he just wants to see your face.

The truth is, Aemond doesn’t want you to hide in his arms. He doesn’t want you to bury your head into his chest and conceal your pain, or for you to dig your face into his clothes until each cheek is dry and you look composed again.

He wants you to share every emotion with him openly, no matter how warped or ugly or bruised.

Perhaps that’s what love is; recognizing someone's greatest vulnerability and still choosing to love them.

It’s hard to place what emotion rests itself in Aemond’s eye after that, but whatever it is almost has you numb to how he’s holding both of your hands in his own. That is, until he trails a thumb over your knuckles.

“Convince Jace, please,” you beg once more. The edges of your mouth start to turn downwards as you tear up again, and Aemond’s eye follows; he takes in your grief intently, and you are fully conscious of that fact. “Please. Show him you are worthy of my hand.”

There’s a sort of surprise that swirls in his lilac gaze; however, his lips are in a straight line, his face nothing else but cold, and you can picture the war that rages inside his head.

“I bear a hatred that could draw blood,” Aemond finally murmurs. “Those who do not deserve to be forgiven will not know my mercy. I will not betray my feelings to please others.”

“Try, Aemond. Please. If not for you and your sanity, do it for me.”

Aemond can only stare at you — his only love, his life, his breath of fresh air. The woman who he hopes will be his future wife despite your family’s distaste. He inhales deeply, chest rising and flattening the creases in his tunic, gaze roaming the tear-tracks on your face. And then he caves.

But not before making a demand.

“Do not cry, my love,” Aemond breathes. “It does not suit you.”

And when you blink up at him so sweetly, nodding in a wordless vow, Aemond presses a kiss to the crown of your head. Then he kisses your left cheek, and the right, before slowly tracing his lips against your own.

“Your body is mine,” He whispers into your parted mouth. “And I will find a way to claim it. They will have no choice but to accept me.”

Aemond is a professional at pressing your buttons. It’d be a lie if you said it didn’t excite you; quickly, you capture his lips into a searing kiss. He returns the favor, knowing damn well that you want him, and yet he doesn’t tease in between kisses. He chooses tenderness over taunts just this once.

The air is filled with a sentence unsaid:

Touch my soul with warm words, and I shall do whatever you wish.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd imagines #millie’s works — 📓

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churipu · 4 months

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hihi i love ur works sm and i was wondering if i can request where the reader has an argument w the jjk men?? preferably w nanamin + any other characters :3 thank you in advance ^___^

BAD BLOOD — ARGUMENTS WITH JJK MEN !

featuring. nanami kento, choso, megumi fushiguro x reader

warnings. cursing, yelling, slight angst (ends in fluff dw).

note. hi anon, thank you for loving my works, it means a lot to me. and i love this request, i've been feeling like crap for the whole day so this is just what i needed! i hope you like this one <;33 and for anons who have sent in request, i'm writing them down and keeping them in my drafts for daily posts, so don't worry about it!

NANAMI KENTO. i feel like arguments with nanami will be very soft but angry. nanami is a gentle person, and he just hates the thoughts of saying something hurtful to you — but do keep in mind that he won't always be very soft, he could be loud at times. but most of your arguments with him are soft spoken, the both of you exchanging thoughts and troubles.

for the past few days, nanami has been extremely overworked and so you're walking on eggshells around him. he gets sensitive, and the slightest bit of inconvenience angered him. yes, you get it — he's tired from his work, you could totally understand that. he's a busy man after all.

"kento, don't you want to take a break..? you've been working non-stop, you'll get sick," you eyed him, poking around your food.

nanami sat across from you, his eyes glued to a paper, and honestly, it was getting a little sickening. all you wanted to do was to talk to him, but you felt as if you were selfish if you asked the man to prioritize you over his work — so you stayed silent, for almost a week the two of you haven't exactly been conversing right, or talking unless it was an exchange of "hi"s and "bye"s. but that was about it.

"i need to get this done, wait a moment."

that phrase sounded like a template by now, and you huffed, rolling your eyes, "i know, i'm just worried about you. you're not getting enough sleep, you're not eating well, and at this point, i'm just afraid that you'll dig your own gra—"

"i can take care of myself, thank you. you don't have to worry about me, i know what i'm doing."

you can't help but to furrow your brows at his cold reply, a little offended when all you seemed to be doing was care for him. the least he could do was thank you for it, "god, you don't have to be such an ass about it. forgive me for caring then."

at this point, your words only added fuel to the already big fire. nanami stared at you, the exhaustion in his eyes are apparent, and his lips pursed into a thin line before he inhaled sharply, "you're being a child, i just told you i can take care of myself. please, don't argue with me on this. i'm tired with all these paperwork, don't add more burden for my shoulders."

you clicked your tongue, standing up, not wanting to engage on this particular conversation anymore, "well forgive me for caring and for being a burden. enjoy your dinner," was all you spat out at him before going to the living room — plopping your body down the couch.

arguments with him usually ends up with the both of you apologizing to each other, but this particular argument seemed to not just go the way how it usually does. a couple of hours later, none of you talked. you assumed that the male finished his dinner, and you saw him walk by you into your shared room.

the two of you refused to talk to each other, or even as little as making an eye contact. you figured that you'd just spend the night in the living room where the TV could keep you company, so you stormed inside your shared room where nanami was on the bed, eyes still on his beloved papers.

he said nothing, nor did he spare a glance at you. so you become a guest in your own bedroom and grabbed your pillow, it wasn't that chilly outside so you didn't grab the only blanket laying on the bed (you actually left it there for him to use, the ac could be pretty cold at times).

and he never came out, not until you fell asleep with the TV still on. nanami hadn't even slept, he'd gotten his work done hours ago — but still he couldn't sleep. not without you by his side.

the clock strikes fifteen minutes past three in the morning, and nanami pushed himself up from the bed — feeling the void beside him, even with the blanket; he felt cold. opening the door softly, he trudged out of the room, the sight of you all curled up on top of the couch, vivid lights shining from the TV still managing to light up the whole living room despite the lights being off.

he squats down in front of you, brushing your h/c hair out of your face and it made you turn in your sleep. although not enough to wake you up completely, nanami one of his arm under your upper back, and one under your legs. carrying you inside the room with soft steps before laying you down, not forgetting to tuck you under the blanket and leaving trails of butterfly kisses on your face.

he could finally sleep.

with the sun rays greeting you through the creases of your still covered window, you squirmed. groaning out.

"y/n?"

upon hearing nanami's voice, your eyes flutter open. of course — it was a surprise for you to wake up on the bed when you fell asleep on the couch, "did you carry me here?"

nanami nods, he was leaning onto the bed post, "i'm sorry. what i said to you was wrong," he softly said.

the anger you felt the other night was gone by now, and you were just glad that nanami was willing to talk to you. you shook your head with a small smile, "it was part of my fault too, you were working — i shouldn't have pestered you too much."

nanami wasted no time in pulling you towards him, "you were worried for me. never apologize for that."

like i said, arguments with nanami will always end pretty quickly (the two of you are mature enough to talk it out), oh and also? he spoils you the entire day after an argument so — have fun!

CHOSO. i feel like choso would be confused a lot during arguments with you, on one side i could see him being brazen with his words, and on the other side i could see him being careful with them. no in between, he's definitely scared of saying the wrong things to you — and you getting hurt emotionally, hurts him as well. so at times he just tries to end it quickly by saying sorry.

god, he hates seeing you sad. at the end of the day, if he did say things the wrong way (even if it was to defend himself when he's not wrong), choso will apologize to you for how he said his words (and you'll apologize for your mistake). but choso has his share of apologizing because of his mistake too.

"cho, are you listening to me? gosh, you never pay attention to what i'm saying, are you taking this seriously?" choso looks up at you with his brows furrowed, definitely frustrated by everything that was happening around him right now.

first of all, he expected today to be a very special day. he hasn't seen you for the past couple of days because you've been so busy with work, and he was so excited when you told him you'd be having a couple of days to rest. he couldn't wait to meet you and go out on dates with you.

but clearly, his expectations were shoved down the drain because here you both were — arguing over your work hours choso had brought up a few minutes prior. and all he said was that he wished that the both of you would have more time to spend together, which irked you.

it had been a rough week with work where you had to write and write and write on countless paperwork (which you couldn't really complain on because you signed up for the job). and you weren't afraid to admit that you were in the wrong this time, when all choso wanted was time with you. here you were, getting all riled up because he wished that he had more time with you, and if the roles were switched; you were pretty damn sure you'd say the same thing to him.

"'m sorry for bringing that up. can we go out now..? i don't wanna fight w' you." choso mumbled out, averting his gaze to the side.

his tone ripped you away from your anger and you sighed, pulling him into your embrace, "cho, 'm sorry. i shouldn't have taken my anger out on you just because i've had a rough week."

choso returned your embrace mutely, a small smile dawning upon his lips. he was just glad the argument was cut short. all he wanted to do now was to go out of this slump and make you the happiest person ever — even just for a moment, a couple of days before you eventually have to return back to work.

"cho, say something."

choso pulls away from your touch, "i forgive you. let's go out? missed you. so much."

for the rest of the day, you and choso had the most fun in a week. also, choso fell into a pond in the park because he wasn't looking at the road — and also, you might've called your boss to extend your rest day (by saying you weren't feeling well) so you could have more time to spend with your boyfriend.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO. i feel like megumi's the type of boyfriend who tries to stay out of arguments with you, if he was entangled in one where he isn't in the wrong — and you tell him to do something, he'd just kind of do it without any complaints. tell him to shut up? he shuts up. tell him to go away? he'll leave. tell him to leave you alone? he'll leave you alone (for a couple of hours).

but when he feels like things aren't ceasing, he'd try his best to negotiate with you and try to find out what the core of the problem is between the both of you. let's be real, megumi is a realistic type of person, he'd never admit that he's wrong when he isn't just to solve things the fast way, even to you; his own partner.

"y/n. how many times do i have to tell you that it's not that i'm bored of you alright? i've been busy. i'm not bored of you."

okay, you didn't expect one question to lead to this argument. all you asked him was a simple yes or no question: "are you bored of me?" and you didn't throw the question for no apparent reason, the reason behind that question itself was megumi's change of behavior the past two weeks.

he'd been extremely distant, and cold. whenever you asked him about it, he just tells you that he's tired. which you could totally understand since he is pretty busy, like uncle ben said: "with great power comes great responsibility."

being a jujutsu sorcerer is a big responsibility. you could understand where it was coming from, but when it happens again and again, you can't help but to overthink about it. overthink about how megumi might be bored of you and the whole relationship.

"megumi, i...okay— i'm sorry for asking about this. i was just worried." you tell him, not wanting to argue any longer about this whole thing, "i'm sorry, you must be stressed out with school and stuff."

megumi furrowed his brows, inhaling sharply, "no, no.. i'm sorry for lashing out. let's talk about this. i don't want you to get the wrong idea."

megumi explained everything from a to z, about how he was still so in love with you and he had been distant because of his power and what comes with it. it was pretty cute to listen to him talk, the constant flush on his face whenever he talks about you, and the stress in his voice when he talks about his power was apparent.

poor boy just needed a break.

"megumi, let's take a nap. you look like you need it."

"...i do."

argument ended. relationship stronger. and you both get to nap together, absolute win-win.

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