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mypoisonedvine · 1 year

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𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭 || (kinda)dark!javier peña x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || he's your dad's best friend, he's a narc, he's the guy you've been calling 'tio' most of your life... so he's not the guy you want to run into when you're out partying a little too hard.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 || 6.5k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || dubcon smut (18+ only; oral f receiving, unprotected sex, reader is under the influence and under duress), age gap (not specified but it's big lol but they are of course both adults), dad's best friend trope, pseudo incest (reader calls javi tio/uncle but they are not related), drug use, jealousy, unprotected sex, orgasm control, rough/aggressive sex, we're talking complete total and permanent gut rearrangement, crying during sex (from overstimulation not like, being sad), hair pulling, 'sir' kink (briefly), creampie, basically just a kinky filthy mess idk what else to say

The bass was so loud you could feel it in every part of you— like your own heartbeat, but everywhere. The throbbing music, the heat, the sweat; it was an overwhelming experience, even before you took the pill… but now, it was transcendent.

Everything was lit up in electric colors, neon pink and green blending together into some impossible color you couldn’t describe; the dancers around you had their arms raised in the air, jumping and swaying with the music, and it reminded you of the waves in the Caribbean Sea— you know, the ones you never had time to go see even though you lived just a few miles from the beach.

Frankly, you didn’t have time for this either: you should be studying for midterms, but the stress of college was becoming overwhelming and you were reaching a breaking point.

Or, maybe you already had, considering this was your coping method. It wasn’t your usual approach, but you hadn’t needed anything this drastic before. Maybe it was because you weren’t just escaping from the stress of school, but from the tension at home with your parents.

Perhaps what was most frustrating about that situation was that you were pretty sure they didn’t even realize how badly they were driving you insane… especially your dad. He didn’t see any problem with the fact that he tried to control every aspect of your life, regardless of your age. You could appreciate them not wanting you to do anything dangerous or harmful— you could even understand the whole ‘my house, my rules’ thing to an extent— but it went too goddamn far every day. You couldn’t go anywhere else without being questioned, yet you couldn’t exist at home without being criticized.

That was why you were here, and here, you weren’t being critiqued or belittled or micromanaged— actually, you were very… well-received, to put it lightly. You’d caught more than a few glances this evening, and now you were getting more than that: they were dancing with you, pressing against you… touching you.

It should’ve felt wrong, but you’d been craving approval of any kind, and the lascivious looks up and down from the guy in the indigo silk shirt felt like a compliment when you had a couple drinks in you.

A hand covered in gold rings groped your ass, and you hummed through a wide smile. He spoke into your ear, but even so close you couldn’t hear anything— it didn’t matter, anyways; you nodded, dazed. You figured the pill was enhancing, if not creating, whatever connection you felt with this stranger, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care how risky it was to go home with him, either, you just needed to feel tonight.

The voice in your ear mumbled something about how sexy you are, and you were about to melt into the arms of whoever it was— but then you heard another voice, just behind you. This voice was familiar; this voice spoke your name, and you turned around sharply.

"Tio!" you gasped as Javier glared down at you; you'd never felt so small in your life. He could do that so easily, but usually by giving you a big bear hug or calling you niña; this was a less pleasant method. “I— what are you—?”

“Work,” he answered shortly, yelling just to be heard. “You shouldn’t be here.”

No, you shouldn’t be anywhere that Javi was working, but you especially shouldn’t be here— a nightclub, known for wild hook-ups and party drugs. Dancing with guys. Wearing a dress you picked out specifically because you liked the way it showed off your… everything.

“What would your daddy think if he saw you like this?” he growled, grabbing you by the arm, and you whimpered but gave in to him— no point arguing, or denying anything, now.

He dragged you through the club, out the back where you could talk without the music drowning everything out. It was still loud until the metal door shut on its own behind you— and even still, you could hear the thumping of the bass, catch a few notes of the melody here and there, but you weren’t really focused on that with Javi giving you the glare of a lifetime.

“Never thought you were that kinda girl,” he frowned.

“I swear, I don’t usually do this, I just… I…”

“You what?” he snapped.

“Sorry, I…” you trailed off again. “Kinda out of it right now, and you’re so… that light’s really bright…” you complained as you squinted at the streetlight behind him.

He grabbed your face suddenly, forcing you to look up at him; you couldn’t believe how he could basically hold your entire face— and control your entire body— with one hand. He used his thumb and pointer finger to hold one of your eyes open wider; you winced and tried to move away, but he managed to get a decent enough look anyways.

“Are you fucking high?” he realized with a snarl.

“I— just one pill,” you whimpered.

“What was it?”

“I… I don’t know for sure…”

“Jesus,” he sneered, dropping your face and crossing his arms. He looked away from you, shaking his head, then put his hands on his hips in that disapproving way he did so well. “What were you thinking?”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, “I just never get to do anything fun— don’t you need to be wild sometimes, do something a little misguided?”

“A little misguided— taking drugs from strangers, from men, letting them… touch you like that…” he shuddered as he said the last part.

You gulped, looking down at the ground. You were kind of hoping he hadn’t seen that, somehow…

Grabbing you by the arm again, he all but threw you in his truck; shrinking in the seat, feeling quite shy despite how you’d been acting just a few minutes ago, you watched him walk around the back in the mirror so he could get in the driver’s side.

There was silence as he started the truck and put an arm around your seat to back out of the alley, silence as he started to drive, silence as you went back and forth between looking over at him sheepishly and staring down at your hands in your lap.

But when you looked out the window at the passing scenery, you narrowed your eyes. "You're…not taking me home?" you realized.

"And give your dad a fuckin' heart attack, you coming home at this hour— dressed like that?"

Your heart sank with guilt.

"No, I'll figure out what to do with you later,” he decided. “I'm guessing you snuck out?"

"I… told him I was staying with a friend…"

"Then he must not be expecting you until morning. You can stay at my place."

"Thank you, Tio, I swear I don't usually do this, thank you so much—"

"Hey. I didn't say I wasn't gonna tell him the truth when I bring you back tomorrow."

You swallowed, glancing out the window as your eyes stung.

He sighed as he shut the door, and you sheepishly crossed one arm over your stomach to hold your elbow.

Last time you were in his apartment, it was for some dinner… thing… anyways, your parents were there, as were a bunch of other people they worked with, and you were sure the whole thing would be incredibly fucking boring. It was, for a while, until Javi broke away from the others to talk to you— and he made you laugh, he spared you all the dumb questions about how college was going and talked to you about real stuff: music, dreams, life. You always felt like you could talk to him about the things you could never talk to your parents about…

But you didn’t want to talk to him about this. Especially not when he put his hands on his hips and gave you that stern glare.

“What the hell did you think you were doin’ in a place like that—?” he began but you interrupted with a sigh.

“I’m sorry— I just needed a- a release! You know?” you tried to justify.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes before he glanced away from you; you, meanwhile, looked down with shame. You never expected to feel so guilty for this— if anything, part of you had fantasized about your dad finding out just so you could tell him off in the argument, explain to him that it was his overbearing nature that drove you to something so risque. Of course, now that the likelihood of that argument actually occurring had skyrocketed, it didn’t sound so appealing. “Your dad’s gonna have a cow,” Javi warned you.

“I know! I know,” you groaned, hiding your face in your hands for a second. “But I’m an adult! I should be able to do what I want!”

He scoffed a bit, and you frowned defensively. He obviously resented those times you referred to yourself as an adult— even if he couldn’t deny it, he always acted like it didn’t really count. You weren’t a ‘real adult’ yet in his eyes, still being in college and a bit starry-eyed according to some, and that always bothered you. It’s not that you thought you really had it all figured it out at this age, it’s just that you wanted more respect and more acknowledgement of your efforts.

The look on Javi’s face made you pretty confident you wouldn’t be getting much of that tonight. "Just don't tell him, okay? Please, Tio…"

"I won't tell your old man what you're up to," he promised, and you sighed. "But you need to."

"I— I can't," you whimpered, "he'll lose his shit! You know how protective he is…"

"Clearly he's got a good reason!" Javi snapped, and you spun around— you couldn't look at him now, not after he saw you like that.

"He's gonna kill me," you whimpered, defeated.

He stepped up behind you, wrapping one arm over your chest and holding your shoulder. “S’gonna be okay, sweetie…” he mumbled to you. “He’s not gonna kill you— he loves you."

"But he thinks I'm still a little kid," you explained with a pout.

"He can't help that," Javi laughed softly, kissing the side of your head. "You're grown up now, but you're still his little girl…"

You smiled a bit. "You really think I'm grown up?" you asked weakly.

"Yeah," he assured, "not sure how it happened, but you are— still young, of course."

You laughed a bit, relaxing in his embrace, soothed by the familiar smell of his aftershave and his strong hand rubbing your shoulder. Without either of you saying anything, the air somehow shifted… perhaps because of the way he moved his head, and you could tell that he was looking down at you. Perhaps because he let out a long sigh through his nose that fanned over the top of your head.

His voice was as low as a whisper when he spoke again. "Can't believe how grown up you look dressed like that…"

The fingers of his free hand traced over your thigh, even starting to move inwards, and out of both nervousness and ticklishness you clamped your legs together.

"Aww, don't be shy now," he pouted. "You'll be a whore for all those guys but you're playing innocent with me? Don't even try it, baby, I know what you want…"

You sighed out a long, shaky breath as you relaxed your legs so he could reach between them. It didn't really feel real, especially when you shut your eyes— then it could be anyone touching you.

"I know what this sweet little body needs," he continued, almost whispering as he spoke in your ear, making it impossible to forget it was Javi behind you. "Those little boys can't take care of you… need a real man to treat you right."

"Tio," you gasped as one finger just barely brushed over your panties, "d-don't—"

"Don't what, sweetie?"

"Don't… touch me like that," you breathed. "It's wrong…"

"But you like it so much," he noticed with a smile right beside your ear. "You like the way Uncle Javi is touching you— you like all this attention from your Tio, huh?"

Too afraid to respond to that, you shut your eyes tight as you felt him rub you through your panties more firmly, pulling up the bottom of your dress enough to expose the white cotton covering you.

“Still a good girl underneath your slutty outfit,” he smirked.

“What— what are you do—?” you began to breathe out, until he ran the blunt edge of his fingernail over the seam of your lips through the fabric— when he traced over your clit, your whole body jolted.

“Oh, babygirl,” he cooed, “you know what I’m doing. Say it.”

“You’re… touching me…” you panted out, rocking your hips as he began to rub slow circles against your panties— each with more pressure than the last.

“Where?” he prompted, his voice rough and echoing against the curve of your neck, which he began to kiss passionately a moment later just to make it that much harder for you to speak.

“My… fuck, my pussy!” you managed to get out, and he groaned with pride as his teeth brushed against your pulse.

He suddenly let you go and spun you around, pressing you to the wall and then pressing himself to you in turn. The hard bulge against your hip made your walls throb, but his face made your heart drop— you couldn’t forget it was him, and it felt so fucked up knowing he had just done that to you. You opened your mouth to tell him this couldn’t happen, that it had already gone too far, that you needed to somehow forget this ever happened.

But no words came out; they couldn’t, when he delicately lifted your chin so you had to stare right at the darkness in his eyes.

He moved closer, closer, until instinct forced your hands to jump up to his chest— god his chest, it was so firm and tanned and you swore you could feel the heat of his skin through his shirt— and stopped him from kissing you. “What’s the matter?” he asked softly.

What kind of dumbass question was that?! What’s the matter? Your Tio Javi, your dad’s best friend since forever, the guy who bought you your first bike and taught you how to whistle— that guy, calling you a whore and kissing your neck and touching you down there?! God, you knew you were messed up over this because you were mentally referring to your equipment as down there, like you were a little kid again.

But by god, you were not a little kid. Clearly, he knew that better than you thought he did. But you couldn’t believe this was really happening— it felt like a dream, but too terribly real.

What’s the matter, he asks, like you couldn’t spend all night listing everything wrong about this. You only gave him one reason aloud, though: “My dad will kill me.”

He smirked, a short laugh coming more out of his nose than his mouth. “Only if he finds out,” he replied. “Are you gonna tell on me, niña?”

Though very little, you shook your head.

“Are you gonna tell him that I brought you here and touched you like that?” he continued, voice lower and rougher, fingers dancing over your hip again. “Are you gonna tell your daddy how you got on your knees for me, let me fuck you like a whore, creamed on my cock over… and over…”

You shuddered as he left the softest trail of kisses up your neck.

“...and screamed my name until you lost your voice?”

"Fuck," you sighed, melting into his arms as he held you at your waist— his hands were so big that you felt especially delicate when he held you. "Javi, we… we shouldn't…"

"But you want to so bad, sweetie," he noticed with a fake pout. "You're a half-second from begging me to teach you how grown-ups fuck, I can tell."

Your thighs clenched together and he smirked.

"Just kiss me," he encouraged softly, lifting your chin with his fingers. "Just kiss me, baby, and I'll show you. I'll give you whatever you want."

You hesitated, looking up at his warm brown eyes, admiring his face and lingering over his lips… they did look perfectly kissable…

Shutting your eyes, you leaned forward and kissed him; instantly, he turned it from an innocent peck to a hungry gnashing of lips and teeth, his tongue dominating your mouth and muffling your moans.

His hands ran all over you and he started to guide you to walk with him— he turned you both and walked backwards down the hallway, dragging you until you toppled into his bed together.

"Lay back, baby," he instructed as he climbed over you, "your Tio's gonna make you feel so fucking good, sweetie… gonna fuck you like you need, I promise."

He sat up, almost making you want to chase for more of that kiss, but he reached up under your dress and pulled your soaked panties down your legs.

"Oh my god, look at this cute little pussy," he purred, spreading your lips apart and tracing up the seam of your cunt to find your bud. He traced it gently with his thumb— even the softest, slowest circles over it made you shiver and whine. "Sensitive, too. Poor baby, need me that bad?"

He crouched down lower, and you whimpered with anticipation. "Javi…" you mumbled nervously.

Before he even put his mouth on you, he leaned in close and took a deep breath through his nose. "Smells fuckin' perfect," he grunted, and you moaned just because he said that. "Can't wait to taste you, niña, been waiting too long…"

You wanted to ask if he'd been waiting longer than just tonight, but you were distracted by the wet, sloppy kiss he gave you, right on your aching clit. Instantly your back arched and your mouth fell open into a silent scream.

He was painfully, infuriatingly good at this— like second nature, he just looked up at you and watched while his tongue traced your clit exactly how you needed. You could just tell he did this all the time, that he had made his fair share of women scream and sob and beg with that tongue; you writhed and whimpered, shutting your eyes tight so you wouldn't have to see him looking up at you anymore.

He devoured you with wide, hungry licks, his mouth overwhelming you and his nose poking at the apex of your mound. You could feel his long sigh fan over your sensitive skin when he kept his mouth wide open, lapping at you desperately; you’d never seen him this… lacking in composure. This animalistic. It made you feel hot all over.

Maybe the only thing more embarrassing than how quickly you barrelled towards your peak was how easily he recognized it.

"Wanna come, baby?"

He only broke away from you just long enough to groan it out, and then he was right back to making you squirm and sob. "Yes, fuck, please!"

"Beg," he ordered, muffled by your clit in his mouth, eating away at you mercilessly.

"Fuck, Javi— please make me come with your— with your tongue, I— I've never come from that before, fuck it feels really good… please…"

He hummed around you, suckling harder at your throbbing bud.

"Oh— f-fuck, I wanna— please," you choked, "I'm so close…"

You felt him smile, and then you felt him do this thing with his tongue that made your thighs quiver around his head.

"Please, can I?" you whimpered.

He pulled away, but you could still feel his breath fanning over you and it made your walls tense up. "I like you asking for permission," he praised, "do it again."

"Please let me come," you groaned, arching your back when he latched onto you again. "I'm so close, just don't stop, please don't fucking stop—"

He didn't, which you took as permission— not that it really mattered since it was inevitable now with or without his blessing— and you shut your eyes tight as the electric feeling danced all over your body. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you only caught one more glimpse of him staring up at you with a scalding heat in his eyes.

Instantly it became too much, the sensations his tongue delivered to your clit painfully forcing your whole body to spasm. Gasping, you grabbed at his hair and sputtered out: “Stop, stopstopstop—”

He broke away and dropped your hips back down onto the bed, his smile glistening with your come. An instant later he sat up to start opening his belt, that grin turning suddenly into a snarl. You looked up at him with wide eyes, still trying to catch your breath, dizzy even as you just laid there watching him lick your wetness off his lips. “Need to fuck you,” he said, simple as that.

You still couldn’t really believe this was happening; the effects of the pill were mostly faded, but this felt like some bizarre dream anyways. Seeing him like this was just beyond surreal.

“Flip over— hands and knees,” he instructed firmly while he unbuttoned his jeans. You wanted to remind him that this was insanely wrong, that you thought of him like family and thought he saw you the same way— but then you remembered that what you’d done tonight was wrong too, and that he was your only hope of getting away with it and avoiding being locked in your room for the rest of your life.

"Shouldn't you… shouldn't we use a condom?" you suggested softly, and he smirked a little.

"We don't need that," he assured.

Doing as you were told, though it took some effort on shaky legs, you stared down at Javi’s bed under you— you’d seen it before, even slept in it before (though when that happened, he always took the couch), but it felt incredibly different now.

Speaking of things that felt incredibly different: getting fucked by your tio. He held your hips and pushed his cock into you, and you whimpered loudly as the stretch challenged you right from the start. You heard a soft moan from behind you, a needier sound than you expected from him, but it was drowned out quickly by your own cry as he buried himself in you completely. “Mm,” he hummed, fingers digging deeper into the plush of your ass as he stayed still for just a moment. “That’s good…”

Shivering, even though you were hot enough to sweat, you hid your face with a quiet whine right as he started to thrust— with a lot less patience than you expected.

"You're not embarrassed, are you?" he wondered, petting the back of your head as if trying to coax you out of the pillows. "Actin' all shy… what have you got to be shy about? Getting fucked on all fours like a slut, the fuck you acting innocent for now?"

"Please just slow down—" you gasped, reaching back behind yourself to try to grab his thigh.

"Hell fucking no, this is what you wanted," he groaned.

Whining, tears stung your eyes and you just tried to hold onto the bunches of his sheets in your fists.

"Wanted me for a while, didn't you? Dressing up all sexy when I came over for dinner, showing off how much you've grown… didn't even wear a bra, I could see your tits getting hard, wondered if it was because you were turned on. Turned on by your Tio…"

You weren't blind, you knew Javier was attractive, and you knew he did well with women— but you honest to God never thought about him like that. He was just your Tio Javi.

And now he was pushing you down between your shoulder blades to shove your face into the bed. Whimpering, you gave in, but the angle forced his cock even deeper and made you arch your back up with a yelp. "Shh shh, no baby, need to take it all," he scolded you softly as he pushed your back down. "Need to keep that ass up for me— show Tio that ass, good girl…"

It was hard to stay like this when it meant letting his cock hit way too deep— it hurt, and you sobbed with every thrust. "Please, s'too much, I need a break—"

"A break? We just started," he laughed. "You can get a break after I come, but you're gonna be in this bed all night showin' me why I should keep your secret."

"God, you're just so deep," you whined, "it hurts…"

"Yeah, but it feels good too, doesn't it?"

Even though you somehow felt guilty, you nodded.

"Yeah," he encouraged again, "you like getting fucked like this, baby. Never had your whole pussy used? Never had a cock this deep?"

So deep that it shot up your spine and made the back of your eyes burn? No, you'd never felt this before; you sobbed with pleasure, already totally overwhelmed.

He grunted as he increased his pace, already picking up speed each time his hips collided with yours; the bed was creaking a bit, too.

"Fuck," you gasped, toes curling. His cock’s fat head was pressing into something so painfully deep inside you, and just as much as it made you want to beg him to give you a little mercy, it made you feel like screaming for more and praying this could never end.

You heard him grunt as he fucked you even faster; he must have heard you sniffling, in turn, tears falling from your eyes near-silently as the pleasure overwhelmed your body. "What are you crying for? Never had a big dick like this, huh?" he chuckled. "Then just say so."

"I never… I-I've never had a… a dick this big before…"

"Mm," he hummed with approval, grabbing a handful of your ass and tilting his head so he could get a better view of his cock plunging into your hole. "Never been stretched out like this? That's too bad, I can tell you fuckin' needed it. Went out tonight cause you needed some dick, huh? Well you got more than you bargained for, honey, it's too much for this little pussy isn't it?"

"Yes!" you sobbed.

"Can't take all this?"

"Yes, Tio, please—"

"Don't tell me to slow down again," he warned. “I know what you need, sweetie.”

He grabbed you by your hair and forced your head back. "Ow!" you yelped instinctively. "Fuck, Javi!"

"Act like a slut and you're gonna get fucked like one," he reminded you, a frustrated sigh falling from his mouth. His pace quickened once more, thrusts coming faster until the sound of his hips and thighs smacking against your ass filled the room.

"I'm sorry," you choked, "I'm sorry, okay?"

"For what?"

"D-doing drugs," you listed, "going to clubs— acting like a s-slut…"

"Fuck," he grunted, "it's okay, baby, I'm gonna— god— gonna make it all better… gonna teach you how to be my good girl, okay?”

You whimpered as you nodded. “Please…”

Another tug on your hair made you whine and arch your back, letting yourself go a bit more limp in his grip as each thrust rocked your body. “First,” he began, “you need some discipline.”

The hand on your hip let go to give you a sudden spank on your ass; you yelped and jolted, the pain somehow only adding to your pleasure a second after the initial sting had faded.

“Your daddy never gave you enough of that— discipline,” Javi chuckled, “I warned him he was gonna spoil you. Guess I was right, look at you now?”

He smacked your ass again, hard enough that you cried loudly— probably loud enough for the neighbors to hear. That thought made your face burn with embarrassment. Anyone who shared a wall with Javi had probably heard his bed partners before, heard women screaming his name— why did that thought make you feel sick and sad and empty?

Of course, you were anything but empty, you were full to the brim and it felt like he might split you in half each time he pressed his hips to yours. “Once you get some discipline,” he continued, “you need to start doin’ what you’re told.”

“Y-yes, sir,” you choked out. You almost screamed when the hand that had been holding your hip slipped down to search between your legs; he grunted a bit as he roughly found your clit and rubbed it in fast circles.

“Then you need to learn some manners,” he continued, “like sayin’ thank you when I touch this pretty pussy for you.”

“Thank you,” you blurted out, your voice hoarse and wobbly— even weaker than you felt. Your hips were instinctively trying to buck away, running from the amount of raw sensation forced upon you, but you were trapped by the strength of his arm.

All at once it all changed: he slowed his pace, though he went just as deep if not deeper with each movement; he leaned down and pressed his chest to your bare and sweaty back, putting his lips against your ear; he kept touching your clit, but the circles were slower, smoother… sweeter. “S’that better, sweetie?” he whispered roughly. “Is that how you need it?”

Biting your quivering lip, you nodded; you fought another wave of tears that burned at the back of your eyes, but you were less embarrassed to cry now than you thought you would be. You’d cried in front of Javi before, plenty of times— skinned knees, dumb boyfriends, failed tests, he’d been around for plenty of that. Obviously, this was much more vulnerable than anything that had come before, and yet it felt bizarrely natural… he pulled out this side of you so easily, a side you didn’t even know existed.

“Such a good girl,” he cooed at you gently, kissing the curve of your jaw, and you finally stopped trying to stop yourself from shaking (it wasn’t working anyways). “So good for me…”

Everything was so blurry now, you barely even noticed him guiding you to lay down and roll over: you just noticed him pulling out, and pouted a little as if you actually thought he might just stop completely for no reason.

Noticing your displeasure, he smirked proudly. "Just wanna see that pretty face, sweetie," he soothed. But when he pushed back in, the new position made everything feel new— and, somehow, even more perfect.

"Fuck, Javi, s'really deep…" you mumbled, though it was deep in a different way than before— not as painful, yet even more mind-numbing.

"Uh huh?" he taunted. "Never had somebody fuck you right, baby?”

You shook your head. You had no idea it could be like this— you thought it was normal not to come, for the guy to jackhammer for a few minutes and leave. You didn't even know you could make noises like this…

"Say it again," he encouraged with a moan, watching your face intently.

"It's really… really deep…" you breathed, legs shaking as he held your hips down and tried to get even deeper; he started to grind up against you to force every last millimeter inside, roughly rubbing his pubic bone on your sore clit.

You squealed, barely able to take all this sensation, and he flared his nostrils. "What's really deep?"

"Your cock," you clarified.

"Whose cock?" he taunted.

"Yours, Javi, fuck! Stop asking me questions when I can barely fucking think!" you whined, and he laughed as he returned to his original motions.

“Just one more,” he promised. “Gonna come for me, niña?”

“Yes, yes,” you admitted through a choked sob.

He leaned down, blanketing his body over yours. "Call me Tio when I make you come," he whispered his demand in your ear, and you shuddered.

Each thrust was faster than the last, harder too, and you sobbed as heavy pulses of pleasure took control of your body. "I'm so close, I'm so fucking close," you panted, unable to speak above a whisper.

"I know, I know," he soothed, kissing your face with more tenderness than you expected or felt you deserved.

"I— please—"

"Shh, you're doing so good…"

It all collapsed at once. "I'm— fuck, I'm coming! Tio, I'm coming!"

He growled and latched his lips onto your neck, fucking you through it; your pussy pulsed in an erratic pattern, a new slickness coating him and running down your thighs. You would've been self-conscious about staining his bed if you had any room in your brain for it— but you couldn't think about anything, you even forgot to breathe for a couple seconds. "Good girl," he groaned, "coming nice and hard for me. Good fucking girl."

Suddenly, your arms wrapped around his shoulders— his broad, heavy shoulders, barely damp with sweat— and your shaking fingers dug into his skin. You hugged him tightly, maybe to keep yourself grounded as convulsions rocked through you, maybe for a little comfort through such an excruciatingly ecstatic sort of feeling.

When it all seemed to gather right in your gut, it finally slowed down and you went all but limp under him— though your arms stayed draped over his neck.

"Fuck, Javi," you moaned lowly, his thrusts faster and less even as he looked down at you with an exhausted smile of his own.

"Fuck, I wanted to make you come again," he admitted, "but I can't last much longer— you're too fuckin' tight, baby, little pussy's too fuckin' good, gonna make me come…"

"Please," you whined, partially out of submission and acceptance of your desire to make him come, partially out of excitement for a chance to breathe after he finished.

"Gonna come inside you," he warned suddenly, and you gasped.

"Wait, pull out," you pleaded, a small bit of your sanity coming back as the height of your pleasure had passed, "come on my face o-or something…"

He grinned when you said that, and you sort of regretted it. "That's cute," he decided, "but I wanna fill this pussy— see you nice and stuffed with my come— and I know you want that too, baby…"

You whined, hating how right he was, but you panted as you tried not to let the pleasure completely override your logical reasoning. "But I'm not— I don't—"

"I'll get you a pill in the morning," he promised, his voice rough and needy as he fucked you even faster— he hissed in his breaths through his teeth, almost snarling at you. "Fuck, I'm so close— tell me who owns this pussy now, princess."

"Yours, Javi, it's yours," you sobbed, hating how true that really was. "Yours to fill— you can come inside me, Tio, nobody's ever…"

You didn't even finish the thought, and he moaned as his grip on your hip tightened. He seemed pleased by the fact that you'd never been creampied before, even more excited to empty himself into you. "Beg," he ordered.

"I— I want you to come," you blurted out, not really sure what you were doing and struggling to put a thought together anyways. "Please, I want… want it inside—"

"Fuck, fuckfuckfuck," he rushed, and a moment later he stopped as deep as he could go, letting you feel every pulse as he filled you.

You gasped, almost wanting to squirm away out of instinct and try to stop him from filling you, but he held you down and kept you helpless.

"God, yes," he moaned in a breath, grunting as he started to grind his hips on yours to get himself that slightest fraction of an inch deeper.

He let his weight relax onto you and though it made it tricky to breathe, you just accepted it, finally shutting your exhausted eyes.

You were probably more than half of the way to sleep when he brought you back to reality by carefully rolling off of you; you winced as he pulled out, first from the soreness and then from the gush of sticky heat you felt coming out a moment later…

Javi stayed on his side, propped up on one bent elbow, and looked down at what you could only assume was a completely gaping pussy— and all his come leaking out.

He swiped two fingers through the mess he'd made, letting them linger on your throbbing clit until your hips jolted away; smiling, he brought the fingers to his lips and tasted his own come from your hole. "Fuck, Javi," you sighed, taken aback by the erotic, sudden gesture.

"You wanna taste too, princess?" he smirked, moving his fingers back to your pussy— but this time he didn't just scoop up what was leaking out. No, he suddenly slid two fingers into your incredibly sore cunt, making you wince from the sting and watching your face carefully with a sigh.

When he pulled his fingers out, after twisting them around inside you for a moment, they were coated in both of you. His free hand held your chin and tilted your mouth how he wanted it, guiding you to take both his fingers onto your tongue.

"Lick it off— good girl, like that…"

His praise made your exhausted walls clench just one more time.

"Taste how good we are together, baby?" he cooed. "You did so good for me… I haven't come like that in a long time."

I haven't come like that ever, you wanted to reply, but your mouth was full. When his fingers were cleaned off, he laid down beside you and wrapped you up in his arms. The strangeness of it hit you again: you, him, naked in bed… you still couldn't quite believe it was real.

"How much sleep do you need before you can go again?"

You widened your eyes and looked at him, amazed to see that he clearly wasn't joking. "Again? Javi, I'm gonna be sore for weeks already—"

"You're young, you can bounce right back," he promised, "I bet in a couple hours your pussy's gonna be even tighter than it was when we started."

You bit your lip. "I guess I can— I mean, maybe one more time, if you let me sleep a little first…"

He smiled and kissed your head, making you sigh and hide your face in his neck. He smelled the same, that's what was so weird— he smelled like he always had, the same aftershave as you remembered from all those years ago, and now you were naked and sore and used. "Okay, sweetie, get some sleep," he offered. "I'll wake you up when I'm ready to give you another load— I bet you're gonna like the way I wake you up, too."

As he chuckled lowly, kissing your neck right by your ear, you shut your eyes and tried to ignore how bizarre this was so you could rest.

His fingers gently tickled your thigh, tracing random shapes that left goosebumps behind, and whispered praises in your ear to lull you to sleep. "That's my good girl," his low, gentle voice blended in with the growing darkness of slumber.

Even mostly asleep and exhausted like you'd never been before, you got the sense that being his good girl was on ordeal that lasted more than just one night. In fact, you hoped it did.

#javier pena x reader #javier pena smut #javier pena x you #javier pena dark fic #dark!javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #narcos fic #narcos fanfiction

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 2 months

Text

These Tender Hearts Beat as One

Aemond x widowed!female character

Summary: Aemond reunites with his childhood friend, a former ward of his mother || Word Count: 7k || Warnings: too much fucking backstory lol, p in v sex, breeding kink

Aemond could always tell when his mother was stressed. Out of all her silver-haired children, her second son had seemed the most adept at knowing before she even knew herself. All that remained was for him to discover the root of her worries, and calm her ever-heightening nerves if he could.

When Aemond was stressed, angered or oftentimes merely bored, nothing truly compared to the feeling of riding Vhagar, splitting through the air above King’s Landing to stretch her large, tattered wings. His beloved dragon appreciated the exercise in any case, restless from her days fought in wars, it was some consolation for him that flying was just as therapeutic for her as it was for him.

But when his dear mother was stressed, it was rooted in self-destruction, picking ceaselessly at her fingernails ‘til they were bloody and sore. And though he bit his tongue, not wishing to replicate the behaviour of his grandfather, sometimes it felt near impossible not to say anything, not to ask what was on her mind. So that whatever was swirling around her head with panic, could instead be shared out, and therefore less weight for her to carry.

Had Aegon done something perhaps?

Was there more trouble with Rhaenyra?

Or perhaps his father had said something to upset her, which seemed the most likely. Even in his sickly state, he was still capable of unknowing cruelty.

Even at five and ten, Aemond understood this.

His mother remained quiet, and it was not ‘til he sought out the company of his dear friend, that the truth became clear.

She had been his mother’s ward for little more than three years, and already Aemond had witnessed her enter the Keep as a clumsy, loud child and blossom into what many would consider a young woman already grown, though she was little older than Helaena.

Her age in comparison to him had never once strained their friendship. In fact, at first, when Aemond was still freshly scarred emotionally by the trauma of losing his eye, he had remembered clapping his lone eye on her and scowling, thinking of her little more than a quarrelsome child.

And, as Aegon had put it, ‘aggressively annoying’.

Which, at the time, was true enough. And yet it did not deter her from trying, Aemond would allow her the compliment of that.

She was much like him, a child created and born as a sort of secondary plan in case the first did not come to pass. A mere second daughter, and not only that, but bumped even further down the chain by her three older brothers, the eldest already wed with several children of his own. It was made abundantly clear by her own parents that she was merely another nuisance and therefore when placed into the care of the Targaryen royal family, the look of relief on their faces somewhat angered him, coupled by the manner in which they left with a goodbye that rivalled his own father’s attitude towards his children.

His empathy for her situation had drawn him to her, despite his stubbornness in wanting to pretend he did not crave friendship, especially from a girl. And her own stubbornness surprised him when he discovered she did not blindly seek the acceptance of any similar-aged child, she set her sights on Aemond alone and did not relent until eventually, he came to her instead.

He found a camaraderie with her that he had yet to find with his other siblings, feeling very much like friendship with her was more natural and spontaneous, where the ones with his family were calculated, planned and rooted in a cold necessity to keep up appearances.

Not that she cared much for appearances.

Her Septa berated her for what seemed like every other day for turning up to her needlepoint lessons with dirtied skirts and stray petals in her tangled hair, all from chasing one another through the bushes of the Keep to find some entertainment. Yet, even in the face of punishment, her smile never faltered, and insisted that it was all a bit of fun.

She somehow managed to inject her bright personality into his otherwise darkened life.

Because of her, there was beauty in everything. There was serenity in sitting in the Godswood and watching the petals settle in the breeze that ran past his neck and made him shiver. There was a startling allure when he introduced her to Vhagar for the first time and her hand ran across her darkened scales, seeing her expression lift in sheer wonder, experiencing her bewilderment as if it were the first time. And there was virtue in the innocence of their relationship, and how his heart began to swell with a childlike sense of belonging in her.

The unconditional power of her friendship he was sure was all he ever needed. In the way she always uttered, dragged away for her lessons in etiquette, but beaming at him.

‘My friendship is always yours,’ she would say, like a mantra.

‘Just as mine shall always be.’

He thought for a long while that he was the most hideous person in this world, not least since Aegon had dragged him to the brothels only a few years before. And yet when he shared a chaste kiss with her under the Weirwood tree. Clumsy and impractical and yet all magical all at once, he thought that when he was older, stronger, he would ask her to be his wife.

Aemond could feel the anxiety seeping off her as soon as he stepped into her chambers. Like she had a lot on her mind but not the courage to open her mouth and say it.

“What is it?”

His heart lurched into his chest when she lifted her head, swallowing her feelings and taking a deep, shaky breath.

“My sister has succumbed to a fever. She is dead.”

Aemond sighed, as if absorbing her grief. But when he took one step forward to comfort his friend, she shook her head, “there is more.”

Her tone of voice alone was enough to set every nerve on edge. Aemond stood as if stuck to the flagstone floor, and realised that the once clumsy, small girl he had once known was acting very much like a young woman now. Worlds apart, despite being stood before her.

“I am to honour the planned betrothal with Lord Lefford, under my father’s orders.”

It was the only moment Aemond remembered wanting to vomit with nausea, he had not felt such churning in his gut even on the day he lost his eye.

She sat, looking at him as if to gauge his reaction to the news, knowing perhaps in her own heart the feelings that were shared between them. And Aemond felt his churning nausea turn to anger, at how easily she had allowed her will to be broken by a command from her father, which in his opinion, she need not obey. She was, after all, a near half a decade younger than her sister, and the man in question older than her own father.

How could she have given up like this so easily.

“You will go through with this?”

He did not mean for his tone of voice to appear accusatory, but when he saw that wide-eyed helpless expression, he knew immediately it had.

“I can hardly argue with my father, Aemond.”

He felt his fists clench hard in his hand, fingernails creating crescent shaped indents in his flesh that reddened, his reply is stiff, “you simply act as if you have no choice in the matter.”

“Not all of us get one.”

“You cannot leave.”

“I must,” she insists, her voice breaking somewhat at the look of disappointment and betrayal on his face, “please do not make this more difficult than it already is, Aemond.”

“I am not the one making this difficult,” he replies flatly, his head throbbing with an incoming migraine, “If you are as much my friend as I am yours, you will not leave me.”

She could feel herself stepping towards him, drawn by some invisible force for comfort that he was not yet providing. She knew he could be capable of being cruel, but to be on the receiving end after all they had gone through was heart-breaking.

And though she was a year his senior, standing so small before him, she felt so much a child.

“Aemond, please-” she begged, reaching out for him and wincing when he pulled away, his brows drawn together in disgust.

“Marry him and I shall never speak to you again.”

Her hand dropped to her side as if limp, as if all life had drained from her body as well as the colour from her face. Her lip quivered, “you can't mean that.”

He looked in her eyes, the raw grief of watching her slip away filling him with an unmistakable bitterness, though for what? Her? Himself? Their friendship? He could not put it into words.

“I mean every word.”

That is the last memory he has of her, looking every bit as broken as he'd intended her to feel. In the days that followed, as her family arrived once more to steal her away, Aemond felt the gnawing grip of regret when he chose not to see her off at the courtyard, watching from his window as she scanned the space around for her good friend's presence and didn't find it.

It was then Aemond began to hate himself for every bit of cruelty enacted against her from him. Her carriage disappeared into the distance until it was nothing, leaving a pit of pain in his heart.

Not a day passed that Aemond did not at least think of her and wait for any correspondence to arrive, with his name etched into the paper in her curved, feminine handwriting.

But as he'd feared, she had taken his words to heart, and no letter ever arrived, and eventually, it felt no use counting the days and moons since he'd last seen her.

The guilt would eat away at him for years, the memory of her pained expression etched into his vision. Even as he grew into a man, it would never fully fade, though he was quick to tell himself that he shouldn’t care, that she was no longer the same girl he had loved so much, not since she chose her own fate.

In an attempt to fill the hole she'd left behind, he busied himself with the sword, intent with some level of obsession at becoming the most skilled swordsman in Westeros.

Aemond would train for hours at a time, the dull ache deep within him pushed away by the strain of sparring drills and intense workouts with the sword. Though even in the midst of training, his thoughts would always be in the back of his mind, taunting him with the guilt that he felt, the shame of how he had treated her at the end.

By itself, it was not enough, but even burying his nose in books did not blur that heavy ache. But it did not mean he could not at least try.

Which is why he sighed in annoyance as he sat by the fireplace in his chambers, a large tome opened in his lap and two knocks rapped at the door.

“Enter.”

He did not tear his attention away as the maidservant entered with a short and quick curtsy, hands clasped, “Your grace, Queen Alicent has requested your presence.”

That alone was enough to draw his attention away from his reading. His mother did not request him for a small matter.

He had wondered if perhaps Aegon had managed to slip out of the Keep again, for yet another one of his excursions into Flea Bottom, and send him to retrieve his brother.

Perhaps his mother finally thought enough time had passed and he was much of a man to suggest a marriage proposal. For some reason, the thought made him ill.

“Thank you, Ser Criston,” he heard his mother say in a muffled tone once he was announced.

Aemond raised his gaze to his mother, relieved to see her calm, and dare he say, happy.

“Aemond,” she greeted softly, her smile gentle and her touch on his arms comforting, “do not look so forlorn.”

“You wished to see me.”

“I did,” Alicent beamed, clasping her hands at her front, “Come.”

He could not help but give a puzzled expression as he walked beside his mother through the winding halls of the Keep, wondering perhaps why her behaviour was so different than usual. A sort of anxiety fed through her, but not the self-destructive kind.

“We are to receive some guests today. I would like you to greet them.”

Aemond quirked a brow, confused and somewhat annoyed in equal measure, “I am not accustomed to greeting-”

“They have travelled a long way, so remember to be courteous,” Alicent added, flashing one of her tight-lipped smiles, which only served to confuse Aemond further. His mother led him to the top of the staircase of the empty, echoing foyer and instructed quickly, “do be a gracious host, Aemond.”

He did not have a mere moment to question her, before he was watching the back of his mother disappear down the very same hallway they had just walked together. All he managed was a baffled shake of his head, as if by some miracle this was all some mad dream he had conjured. He questioned why on earth his mother would allow him to greet these esteemed guests alone, out of all her antisocial children.

But ever dutiful, he descended the stairs, hearing the low voice of Ser Westerling greeting whomever was arriving in a warm, formal tone, with their silhouettes casting blurred shadows onto the flagstone floor. Aemond’s feet were planted firmly on the step without even realising it.

This esteemed guest was no stranger to him.

Though the years had matured her gracefully, Aemond is sure he would recognise her anywhere, as she looked every bit the same as that day he regretted seeing her carriage leave King’s Landing. She stood tall, her cape fastened at her front with her house crest nestled in the middle, her dark skirts framing her womanly figure as her eyes trailed the details of the Keep that had changed since she had last been there.

Aemond stared wordlessly, the emotions so long buried resurfacing as if they had never left. His breath felt hot, his mind struggling to accept what his lone eye beheld before him. That she was here after so many years separated, in the very flesh, and yet he was unable to utter a single word.

She wandered about the space, commenting to the young woman beside her, who carried a child no older than three in her arms, how it had all looked so much larger in her youth. So he took this moment where she had not yet noticed him to look upon her with wonder, frozen entirely in place with the unexpectedness of her return. His mind raced with the thoughts of what this meeting could mean, for him, for her, and for their future; and he could not deny the strong tug of guilt in his chest for how he had treated her all those years ago, and how her renewed presence only made them more real.

Clearing his throat as he approached, the lady beside her noticed him first, “Prince Aemond,” she greeted with a curtsy, prompting her also to lay her eyes on him once more.

“Your grace,” she smiled warmly with a quick curtsy, with such a formality that made his heart ache.

He craned his head to bow lightly at her, “My Lady,” he replied with some stiffness, before gazing once more into her friendly, soft eyes and allowing his shoulders to relax, “I wondered perhaps if you would recognise me.”

Her laugh made his stomach flip, “I do not think I could ever forget you. Though I must confess, I wondered the same for myself.”

Her smile could not be described as anything less than perfect and a feeling that he harboured for her so long ago began to creep back in before he could stop it, “my Lady, I must apologise right away.”

But she shook her head, looking down at her hands, “it was a long time ago.”

He did not wish to upset her further by mentioning such an incident that had harmed his pride since, but knew that her memories of it were just as vivid as his own, “And I have not forgotten. You did what was expected for a lady in your position, and yet I was too selfish to understand that at the time. Please forgive me.”

He could not take the desperation out his tone, no matter how hard he tried. And still, she smiled sadly at his words.

“You must know that I did not wish to leave you.”

“I do,” he replied quickly, the memories of his guilt burning a hole in his throat, trying to hide the bitterness he felt towards himself, “I must confess - I have missed you greatly.”

Her hands clasped at her front, she blinked slowly and swallowed thickly, “I have missed you too.”

The silence stretched between them. Years of separation and longing had left them both yearning, but lacking the courage of knowing what to say. Aemond cleared his throat, his hands behind his back with anxiety, seeing that her ‘favoured’ husband was still not yet present.

“Are we to receive your husband as well?” he asked with some stiffness, or perhaps bitterness.

She cocked her head ever so slightly, eyebrows pulled together in confusion, until a small smile of realisation graced her features, “I regret to inform you I am recently widowed.”

In any other situation, Aemond would have been mortified at her reply. But with her smile came a rush of realisation himself, and hope swelled in his heart, and he shifted his weight from foot to foot, hoping to all the gods that she could not see the way his thought ran wild in his head, and made his breeches tighten, “Widowed-”

“Indeed. I am sorry to disappoint you, my Prince. In truth, I have just come out of mourning,” she nodded, biting back another coy smile, showing in her mannerisms that it was no great loss to her.

“I am sorry for your loss, my Lady.”

She shook her head softly, “my husband left a suitable will, so that my child and I live comfortably and so there is no need for me to pursue future marriages should I not wish to.”

Her careful wording was not lost on him, and Aemond could not help the sense of glee at this new and recent change in her life, the bitter anger at having lost her to some decrepit old man years previous seemingly dissipating. And yet despite this, he attempted to keep it hidden, not wishing to seem disrespectful to her late husband.

“Might I present you my daughter,” she added, taking the child from the woman beside her into her own and resting the shy young girl on her hip. The child’s wide-eyed innocent expression unapologetically took all of Aemond in, as children often do, and he was reminded very much of his dear friend when she was small.

She was the image of her mother, save for the slightly lighter hair, with every feature of her etched into her daughter’s youthful face. And the reality of such similarities made him feel both joy and sorrow all at once.

“She is beautiful.” His voice was quiet, seeing the child in her arms was shy and reserved, unlike her mother, but thankful somewhat that her little one was not in the slightest alike to the man she had been forced to marry. Looking into the eyes of her child felt much like staring at the girl he once knew, and with that, a rush of affection.

Aemond thought, that in different circumstances, this child could have been theirs, a shared expression of their affections for one another. That all those years ago, had her father not coerced her into honouring her late sister’s betrothal, that she and Aemond would have their own children by now.

Before he could think too long, the small girl whined in her arms and she put her down immediately, the little patter of childish feet nearly had Aemond break into a grin, watching her run off with the nursemaid chasing behind.

“I am afraid she is a curious little thing. Like mother like daughter I suppose”, she smiled brightly.

Aemond nodded, the rush of memories bringing a wistful smile to his face, “Like mother like daughter,” was all he managed to reply, watching the mischievousness unfold. Yet, once the child and the nursemaid had left them alone, she chuckled softly, feeling his heartbeat slow in pace with hers.

“May I confess something to you, without fear of judgement?” Aemond asked, his heart thudding as she nodded in return, “You may think me foolish, but I must confess that my mind still lingers on the memories of our time together, and I have found no way to erase the feelings they carry with them - your return to King’s Landing has only reinforced them,” he confessed, looking into her warm gaze, “for now, when I look at you, I cannot help but feel just as I did then.”

He watched her swallow thickly, and take a deep, meaningful breath, like what she was going to say would be heavy, “and, what feelings are those, might I ask?”

His heart felt as it was beating so fast it was cracking his ribs, throat closing with anxiety. The feelings he had tried so hard to hide with a mask of bitterness now overflowing with terrifying intensity. Yet, to say such feelings out loud to her, someone he had trusted so much in his youth, made it feel all the more real. And as he stared into her eyes, he wanted nothing more than for her to share them, despite their years of absence from one another.

“That I love you - and have from the moment I met you.”

The words came out quickly, and as soon as he uttered them he felt his cheeks grow hot, knowing her response was either one way or the other and that he, a man so long disconnected from his own feelings, hiding them with his pride for so many years, was now opening up his vulnerability.

He wanted her to love him. So desperately.

She sighed quietly in relief, “I have loved you as well. And I was saddened to have left you - and will forever be vehemently sorry for that.”

Though his relief was palpable, but he shook his head first, “You were right then, and always have been, that you had no choice or opinion in the matter. Therefore, I will accept no apologies.”

Her eyes glistened with emotion at his words, and when Aemond stepped forward and took her cheek in his palm, her breath hitched in such a way he was sure they would spill forth in tears. But the strong person she had always been, she held them back.

“I feared - you would not desire me,” she confessed quietly.

Aemond smirked, “It may take more than a few years of separation to extinguish what was once there. I have loved you since that day beneath the Weirwood Tree, and I will love you until this life ends and the next one begins.”

She gave a watery smile at his sweet words, “though I have been wed once already with a child?”

He was silent for a moment as he considered her question, and not a bit of him even wondered whether it were possible, “my love is no fickle thing,” he smiled, “in time I hope I may become as close as a father to her as I may become a husband to you.”

He watched as her unshed tears formed a constellation on her eyelashes, but a relieved smile graced her delicate features. Aemond could not remember the last time he had been this close to her, able to detect the delicate scents brushed through her hair and the way her cheeks warmed at the close proximity between them, and undeniable tension.

The thought of kissing her, having her to himself, made something arousing tighten in his breeches, to his embarrassment.

He drew in a breath, leaning forward to capture her lips, but both drew back a pace suddenly.

“My Lady! Would you care to join us for supper this evening,” Alicent smiled brightly, as if knowing some great secret seeing them both stood straight and blushing. And she had to take a moment to think and stammer out her reply,

“Oh - yes, I would be delighted-”

“Wonderful! I shall see you to your chambers,” the Queen beamed, giving Aemond a sideways glance as the two women he most respected in life walked alongside one another.

He felt as if the entire evening was a true test of his will and determination. Aemond is certain Alicent meant no ill will by inviting the woman he unequivocally loved to supper with his family; but as he sat beside her, remembering how close he had been just a few hours before, it was almost as if everyone around him was aware and simply dangling the situation in front of his face.

And he cursed any god that existed that Aegon was not drowned in his cups that night, as he usually was. On this night, he was frustratingly lucid and hyper-aware.

Helaena, at first, was impartial to the sudden get-together, but as soon as she and Helaena saw one another, it was as if no time at all had passed. They were, of course, the same age when she had been his mother's ward, and as well as with Aemond, had formed a close friendship.

The princess was of course eager to catch up, and even invited her up to dance, to which she happily obliged as Aemond watched from his spot at the table. It was nice to see Helaena happy for a change.

A sorrowful thought had occurred to Aemond that both his friend and Helaena were pressured into marriages and motherhood far too young. And seeing them very much acting like young girls with one another, only exacerbated this feeling.

They talked quickly with excitement, planning to have their children meet up with one another and play in the gardens. And while they were engrossed in conversation, Aegon slid next to his brother, with a knowing smirk on his face.

“She is just as animated as I remember,” the young prince smirked, raising his eyebrows at Aemond over the rim of his cup.

“I will hear none of your depravity about her.”

Aegon threw him a faux-offended expression, “I had not even got there yet. Do you have such a low opinion of me?”

Aemond ignored him and sipped his own Dornish Red.

“You wish to marry her.”

“And you are perceptive.”

“Gods, I love it when you compliment me.”

“And insufferable.”

“What makes you think grandfather will allow you to marry her anyway? He's a dry old cunt, he will not care if you love her or not. He would have you wed to some plain-faced twat from who-knows-where.”

For one infuriatingly brief moment, Aemond had to concede that Aegon was probably right. And with one restless finger tapping against the table, he glanced over at his mother and grandfather suspiciously squished together on one end of the table, leaning towards each other and whispering in low voices, with Otto Hightower looking at his beloved friend from beneath his brow.

They were talking about her. Discussing her. And by the expression on his grandfather, analysing her.

Aemond felt his heart beat faster at the prospect that they were speaking so secretively about her without her knowledge. It seemed a stark contrast to the way the two women on the other side of the table were laughing and smiling brightly, something so rarely seen on Helaena’s face nowadays.

“She is no maiden, that is for certain. Though if you are lucky, perhaps only the first three inches of her have been tainted by Lefford’s withered old cock.”

Aemond wrinkled his nose at Aegon’s depraved quip, despite his somewhat polite request for him not too. Perhaps he’d expected too much courtesy from his elder brother. Or perhaps, more likely, with the exciting renewed presence of Lord Lefford’s widow, Aegon felt the need to perform, and exaggerate his usual unfortunate traits of his personality.

“‘Tis almost as worse as our dear sister being wed to me.”

“I am certain there is nothing worse than that,” Aemond replied quickly, behind the rim of his cup, failing to keep his gaze from forever drifting to the figure of her from across the candles and ornaments.

Aemond found himself captivated by the way she moved, the subtle grace in her gestures that spoke volumes of the woman she had become. Gone was the innocence of youth, replaced by a quiet strength and resilience that only seemed to enhance her beauty. He couldn't help but notice the way her laughter rang out like music, filling the room with warmth and light. It was a sound he had missed more than he cared to admit, a reminder of simpler times when they were just children with the world at their feet.

But now, as he watched her twirl across the dance floor with Helaena, there was something undeniably magnetic about her presence. It was as if she had blossomed into a flower, her petals unfurling to reveal a depth and complexity that left him breathless.

He attempted not to move too quickly once the festivities were over, afraid of showing her in his actions his desperation to be close to her as he offered his arm, “might I see you to your chambers, my Lady?”

She gave a shy smile that morphed into one of amusement, and Aemond is sure he felt something akin to that stomach-flipping sensation when he was flying out on Vhagar when her hand rested on the inside of his forearm, “Very well.”

Aemond chose to ignore the low snicker of his elder brother, showing him his back instead, with the woman he loved on his arm.

“You are aware I know this Keep better than I do my own home, and am perfectly capable of finding my chambers myself?” she said with a teasing lilt.

Aemond couldn't help but chuckle softly, the sound echoing in the empty corridor. "Forgive me, my Lady. It seems my chivalry gets the better of me in your presence."

Her laughter rang out, filling the silence with warmth. "Chivalry or a desire to prolong our conversation, Prince Aemond?"

He felt a surge of joy at the playful banter, grateful for the opportunity to spend even a few moments alone with her. "Perhaps a bit of both, my Lady. Though I must admit, the thought of your company is a temptation I find hard to resist."

She looked at her feet, as if to hide the rising warmth to her face, “I must confess, it is nice to once again be somewhere familiar, with the company I admire most. When my husband was alive it could often get rather lonely.”

Aemond fell quiet for a moment, swallowing thickly, trying to navigate his feelings in the midst of a difficult situation, “I hope that he was kind to you.”

She glanced up at him, her eyes revealing a depth of gratitude that stirred something within him. "He had his moments," she admitted with a small smile, "but kindness was not his strongest suit. Still, I suppose I cannot fault him entirely. He provided for me in his own way."

Aemond could sense the underlying weight in her words, the unspoken struggles she had endured beneath the facade of mere cordiality. He didn't need to ask to know that her late husband had been less than supportive.

"You deserve far more than just provision, my Lady," he said earnestly, his gaze unwavering as he spoke.

Aemond could almost feel his heart sink as he had realised they were stood before her chamber doors, her hand slipping from his arm, and yet a fire stoking fierce then at the thought of an invitation inside.

She clasped her hands delicately, her warm eyes meeting his with a gentle intensity. "I couldn't help but notice Queen Alicent and the Lord Hand engaged in such ceaseless conversation," she remarked, her voice soft and thoughtful. "I do not wish to presume—"

Aemond, catching the subtle implication in her words, swiftly interjected, "I cannot claim to know their exact sentiments." His gaze met hers, offering reassurance without a hint of desperation. "But I refuse to allow something as trivial as their approval to deter me. I've already endured the pain of losing you once."

There was a quiet determination in his voice, a resolve that mirrored the fire in her own eyes. In that moment, they shared an unspoken understanding, a mutual agreement to pursue their feelings despite the potential obstacles that lay ahead.

She nodded, a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Your courage is admirable, Prince Aemond. But we must proceed cautiously. The court is a web of intricate politics, and our actions could have far-reaching consequences."

Her words were crafted in such a way that reminded him of her personality in their youth, understanding of the repercussions and yet boldly standing tall in the face of them. And with her small, mischievous smile, he knew all the same that whatever she uttered was only done so to extend her cordiality.

"I understand," he replied, his tone tinged with determination. "But I cannot ignore what my heart tells me."

"Nor can I," she admitted softly, her gaze meeting his with a mixture of vulnerability and resolve.

Silence settled between them for a moment, the weight of their unspoken desires hanging in the air. Then, with a subtle shift in her demeanour, she turned towards her chamber door. Without a word, she reached out and gently pushed it open, leaving it ajar. A silent invitation hung in the air, enticing Aemond to step inside.

Aemond's heart skipped a beat as he watched her gesture, his pulse quickening with anticipation. Without hesitation, he took a step forward, drawn irresistibly towards the open door and the promise of privacy within.

With a shared glance filled with unspoken understanding, Aemond turned towards her chamber doors, crossing the threshold into the privacy of her chambers, where their hearts could speak freely without the constraints of the outside world.

She spoke quietly, her face illuminated warmly by the soft flicker of candlelight. "I hope you do not think less of me for this," she murmured, her voice tinged with vulnerability. "You can imagine, for me there is no great ceremony in it."

Aemond's heart swelled with tenderness at her words, his gaze filled with an understanding that transcended mere words. "I could never think less of you," he replied softly, his voice brimming with sincerity.

Aemond slowly closed the distance between them, their expressions never wavering, his steps deliberate yet gentle. He reached out, his hand cupping her face tenderly, as he gazed into her eyes with an intensity that spoke of his deep affection. In that moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them suspended in a timeless embrace. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows across their intertwined figures, bearing witness to the union of two souls bound together by love and longing.

Her lips parted to whisper, “I do not wish for you to do all of this out of guilt-”

She caught herself when his thumb traced her cheek, waiting for him to answer, “I do not make this bid out of remorse. I wish to be with you, and I wish to make you mine.”

Aside from the crackling heat of the fire within the hearth, her breath was all that was audible between them, coming heavier from between her lips as his thumb feathered down her cheek and to her bottom lip, caressing the skin there. After that, he felt her eyelashes against his cheek flutter when he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers with a tenderness usually unbecoming of his personality.

Years of longing had each of them pressing closer to each other, lost in the sound of their soft kisses, and Aemond felt his clothing below his waist become tight with need once he caressed her tongue with his and pried her lips apart like the petal of a flower and tasting the sweet nectar within.

Her hands that had found his shoulders slid over the sleek leather to his front, tenderly and gingerly pulling the buckles apart to loosen his doublet. Her actions, instead of spurring embarrassment, renewed a deep-rooted vigour beneath, and Aemond’s new task was to pull at the laces of her dress behind her, and pull the fabric that had hidden her body from him.

He felt her shiver, pulling the heavy dress from her shoulder to pool at her waist, pushing them as fervently off her as he was able, “was he at least good to you,” Aemond asked in a whisper, his breath hot at her neck while she pulled at the laces of his breeches.

“I do not wish to speak of him,” she answered with determination and confidence, but a breathless, wanton whisper herself, wanting nothing more than to consummate years of harboured affections masked by friendship, “I only want you.”

Her words had his heart stutter in his chest, pulling her now almost bare form atop him as he sat back onto the bed, with her hair loosened like this and her shoulders blossoming with gooseflesh, he found that he was incapable of keeping his hands at his sides and explored the shape of her feminine body beneath the shift she wore.

Even the sheer motion of her brushing against his hardened member and her breasts filling his palms could have been enough for Aemond, but there was no returning at this point. She sighed against his lips as his fingers dipped beneath the hem of her shift to ruck the thin fabric up around her hips, squeezing the flesh of her thighs to pull her closer onto his lap.

Warmth bloomed at her cheeks, but it did not deter her as she reached between them and smiled at Aemond’s loud moan, stroking his rapidly hardening length in her palm, focussing her attention towards the velvety tip.

She lifted herself in his lap, fingers threaded at the hair at his nape as if to anchor herself to him, and both sighed with the utmost relief of their union once he pressed himself into her, and she sank her warmth onto him, enveloping him with her body. Her lips parted at the stretch, somewhat prepared and yet the intrusion still stealing the air from her lungs.

Foreheads pressed together, Aemond's hands gripped her at her waist, pushing his hips up into her as hard as he could to sink deeper inside her, “I have dreamt of this - for so long - being with you like this -”

A faint sheen glimmered on her collarbones as she slowly moved her hips on him, Aemond's legs parted somewhat, widening hers and opening her up more so he could rock up into her with her rhythm. The closeness of their position had the blunt head of his cock massage that sensitive patch within, her eyebrows knitted together in sweet pleasure.

“That's it -” he cooed quietly, almost watching the way she moved with admiration and curiosity, her tight, silky walls squeezing his length with every thrust of herself down. He felt her arousal coat the base of him, and the sound of their ever-quickening coupling filled the otherwise quiet chambers.

She held onto his shoulders, the amber glow of the fireplace picturing her expression in the most arousing way Aemond had ever imagined. Pulling her shift down her chest, he groaned lowly at the sight of her breasts and took one in his palm and mouthed at the other, taking her stiffened nipple between his lips in a way that made a shuddering moan slip past her lips.

“Gods - I would adore to watch you swell with my child - would you like that -”

All she could do was nod feebly, words unable to occupy her mouth where soft, sweet sounds of pleasure were pouring out. Aemond smirked, grazing his teeth over her bud.

“yes, you would like to serve your husband - give him children, wouldn't you - fuck-” his voice strained at the effort it took to hold himself back, his hands sliding down the column of her back to her plump backside, palms gripping tight and guiding her rhythm onto him, over and over.

She moaned loudly, the motion of being pulled back and forth and yet still impaling herself on him driving the fat head of his cock into the deepest and most forbidden parts of her.

“Aemond -”

“And once you have one - I'll fuck yet another one into you - keep you fat with child” his breathing grew ragged and shaky, “- take it - like a good little wife should-”

“Yes - yes-” she breathed quickly, the words slipping out without realising what they were for, her blind acceptance of being his wife, or the rising waves of pleasure coursing white, hot through her body.

He felt her squeezing him and hastened both of her rhythms, dragging her back into his lap and pushing up into her wet heat ceaselessly. Both the numbing ache of her peak and her bud rolling against his body in quick succession had her hands gripping around him, burying her face in the crook of his neck as her limbs flooded with warmth.

“That's it, ābrazyrys -”

“Gods, Aemond-” she squeaked, completely overcome and possessed by the heights of pleasure rolling through her, the endless rhythm of him fucking up into her only prolonging it.

Her tight walls squeezed him so deliciously that Aemond's heart leapt into his throat, completely surprised as he pulsed thickly and spilled within her, his lone eye tightly shut. His own fulfilment had his hips twitching, shallowly pushing his seed into her, and hoping that it took.

Even once he was completely spent and exhausted, softening inside her, neither moved, and he simply felt her tender fingertips at his shoulders in light soft circles, massaging him. And thought, that this is how it always should have been, had he fought for her.

Her breath fluttered against his skin, herself tired in exertion from their shared pleasure.

“I was a fool - for allowing you to slip from my grasp.”

She sat up, to look down at him, her face flushed, hair in messy waves, looking every bit as beautiful as the day he'd lost her.

But she smiled, her finger tracing the pattern impressed on the leather of his eye patch, “you may have been a fool,” she started.

Her finger hooked beneath it, and lifted it away, her expression unchanged as her thumb stroked the indent of the scar at his cheek. Aemond felt his heart soar in a way that almost felt terrifying.

“I never slipped from your grasp,” she uttered gently, “my heart was always yours.”

Aemond brushed her hair from her features, her words sending waves of ecstasy thrumming in his veins.

“Just as mine shall always be.”

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @valleyof-goldenlilies @virtualsweetsqueen @watercolorskyy @emmaisafictionwhore @minholy223

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ukiyowi · 5 months

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𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐘𝐒𝐔𝐒 (𝟑𝟔𝟕𝟏)

𝐼𝑛𝑑𝑢𝑙𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐼𝑛𝑡𝑜𝑥𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

Dionysus is the Greek god of wine and festivities and has the power of driving mortals insane. In my opinions, wherever this asteroid is in your chart can show how you are when intoxicated/drunk

Note: My observations, if you don't relate Move. Check out my tarot PACs and paid readings of you're interested!

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⌂ Houses

𐃯 1st: Loud and the life of the party, want all eyes on you, may become the centre of attention, may start getting into drinking competitions at parties, may become a little annoying to some people because they can become a little egotistical and start bragging about themselves, they also love talking about themselves when drunk.

𐃯 2nd: Possessive, they may become a little passive and isolate themselves in a corner, there's a tendency that they can get a little sleepy or tired as well. May not want to socialise at all and may want to leave the party early or if they're alone, will call it a day and do the irish goodbye, could also end up accidentally buying things (me lol).

𐃯 3rd: My cousin has this placement and she gets so chatty when she's intoxicated, she will go on long never ending rants about any topic under the sun. May get really giggly and flirty, at times may even gossip quite a bit about others, love meeting new people and socialising especially at parties.

𐃯 4th: Can get a little scattered and get very emotional, a little bit of a crier and all their emotions get amplified, big laughs, big cries, just feel everything all at once. You can become very appreciative of your friends and can become a little lovey-dovey as well as clingy.

𐃯 5th: So much fun, larger than life energy, they kind of become the host, will talk to everyone, mingle, the type to be in the middle of a dance circle and absolutely kill it. May become dramatic but it's humorous and playful, may also talk/think about their plans for their future in regards to their family life when intoxicated.

𐃯 6th: Can become a little cranky and irritable over small things, can feel uncomfortable so they may not drink or indulge in general, the type to be the mom friend even and may like taking care of others even when they need to more, helpful, compliments flow easier but they can also become a little candid with their speech (a little mean).

𐃯 7th: My friend has this and they do start thinking about their past relationships and ranting about their exes, also the kind to dial their exes but overall so much fun, they love to tease others, and can get really creative when intoxicated, especially when it comes to aesthetics. Also make friends so easily holy shit it's insane, need to teach me how!

𐃯 8th: May like playing games related to gambling to be honest, they'll not be very different from how they usually are and may have a high tolerance, seem calm and composed, can make impulsive monetary decisions as well. Can come off as a bit intense when drunk, emotionally like in a good way they may make big emotional decisions too like telling someone they love them romantically.

𐃯 9th: They start talking about life and existence and very philosophical topics, I've met some people with this sign who get really political and at times get kind of pushy about their views and opinions. Fun to talk to if you want to know their opinions on life and what it means, can get sleepy quite fast frankly speaking.

𐃯 10th: Emotional, can become a little demanding and authoritative, ordering people around low-key. Can be kind of a party pooper because I see 10th house Dionysus as people who can get a little angry/aggressive when drunk and also a little selfish, for example if they're at a party with their friends they won't let them talk to other people or something along those lines.

𐃯 11th: Honestly my personal faves, they're so creative and the ideas they have are brilliant, they would probably love talking about stuff related to the science fiction or fiction in general. They get extremely social and are the type of people who would get a lot of numbers if they want, would also make a lot of new friends, they may get cold easily when drunk/intoxicated too.

𐃯 12th: Get kind of lost in their own world, they unintentionally ignore people because of how consumed they are with their own thoughts, can get really silent and passive, and may get very distracted and sort of unaware of their surroundings, bumping into things unintentionally and stuff like that, maybe daydreaming a lot.

#asteroid #astro observations #asteroid astrology #astrology #astro #astro notes #astrology community #astrology observations #astrology notes

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celestialscatterbrain · 5 months

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2. Personal Synastry and Composite Experiences and Observations

Do not interact if you are a minor. (18+)

Venus in 1H synastry: This one is full of compliments. You both love staring at each other, and telling the other how attractive they are. The house person can be the perfect example of what aesthetic the Venus person’s dream person would follow. The Venus person can try to embody that aesthetic more than they did before so they can show they are a good physical match for the house person. “You would look good with me.” Bonding over shared music taste(s). I think the Venus person will want to romance the house person even if that isn’t something they normally do. Venus could love how the 1H person displays their feminine side. Venus likes to ask for pictures and selfies from the house person, and can create a dynamic where you send one another photos regularly. The house person likes to look at photos from the Venus person to gush about what they look like, because they are also supremely attracted to Venus (I think Venus just has a more natural way of expressing that desire). Also as the house person who identifies as a woman, venus’ compliments and pursuit of me has made me feel more feminine than I ever have in a romantic dynamic. Even my mannerisms are coincidentally more feminine and gentle in Venus’ presence. Venus definitely increased my self esteem.

Mars in 1H synastry: I think you two could make very good gym partners together because you love each other’s bodies. Some people say this is a “s*x on the first date placement,” and I concur. You find each other sexy! You compliment each other’s physical appearance and bodies often, and very much so during the act. The Mars person is very very direct with the house person that it’s almost overwhelming or intimidating. Being the house person, I did often feel like they had just wanted me for my body or that’s what they found to be the most interesting part about me until the interaction progressed. If there aren’t other good “soft and sweet” placements in the synastry chart or in the composite, this could be a pretty annoying placement. The Mars person did admit to me that they would bring up sex or something that would irritate me just to get a reaction because they didn’t know if they stimulate me outside of those vibes. If you’re in a relationship with someone else, or show interest in other people, the Mars person can want to fight your partner so they can be the one next to you LOL. This placement also involves a lot of staring. Being touched, even regularly, by Mars turned me on more than other people ever touching me the same way even if I liked them. Mars can love to grab the house person’s face a lot during sex. Maybe for some people who are into it, Mars can want to consensually slap the house person during sex. The Mars will like to be publicly “disrespectful” about you, because they want to mark you as theirs or will for real fight for you. They can see you as someone they want to protect, or you trigger some protective instinct. They might be a lot more physically stronger than you. Sending each other pictures of your body’s changes. You both like how the other defends themselves or bond over your argumentative or aggressive sides. As the house person with the Mars person being a man, I find his masculinity so attractive it hurts. He has slowly changed my perception on what I want a man to look like 😩

Sun in 11H synastry/composite: You guys get along almost immediately. This is a low maintenance friendship, because the vibes make up for all the times you don’t see each other. You just like how the other one approaches friendship. Very open-minded. Probably met through mutual friends, and these friends probably didn’t immediately notice certain similarities you have to one another. Once they see you guys link though, they can be surprised they never noticed it before. You guys may have automatically assumed, even if flirting was involved, that this interaction would remain generally platonic more than anything. People who are not in your friend group can also notice you two becoming friends immediately, because for some reason it stood out. As the sun person, I really liked listening to the house person’s dreams. Hearing the house person speak about how they handle their interpersonal relationships made me value my boundaries more and reminded me to focus more on myself than giving too much of my energy to other people. Essentially you can help each other dismiss certain people pleasing tendencies in one another. You don’t have to try to please one another either, your authentic self is enough to give each other pleasure. A natural sense of familiarity between you two. It’s funny hearing about each other’s quirks. You are encouraged to show your eccentricities around one another. Instant bestie vibes! You can feel like evil twins together in some cases LOL

Venus in 11H synastry: Honestly, in some cases, I feel like you may have met this person because they were previously involved with a friend or ex-friend. The friend you’re attracted to, but don’t need to pursue because you also get the same joys and benefits from your friendship. Friends with benefits. Friends to lovers. You may have started dating or flirting online for a while before meeting. I think this is another sign of shared music taste and interests. As the Venus person, I first grew some sort of interest because the house person posted a video of themselves online playing guitar and I found that super attractive. Maybe the Venus person can be an online supporter or promoter of the house person’s creative outlets. Never meeting in person but having a lot of the same mutuals you both know in real life, and then meeting in person later on by yourselves, maybe in a “date” setting.

Moon in 9H synastry: Here, the house person can introduce the moon person to different religions, or likes to talk about religion with the moon person. The house person can held guide the moon person on the importance of higher education or on the acquisition of knowledge. Long distance relationship. Wanting to be together but you somehow met once you two no longer lived in the same city. The moon person can feel like the house person is one of the smartest people they have met, and can feel somewhat intimidated by the house person because of it. You two can feel really free in one another’s presence. You can talk about anything. You two can turn casual conversation into something philosophical together. Sharing your personal philosophies with one another. Having drastically different life circumstances that have shaped you, but also having some foundational similarities. The moon person might be contradictory to the house person’s beliefs, but this can just stretch curiosity. It can also make the house person analyze different gaps in their previous opinions on certain organizations or institutions. Disagreements on certain topics doesn’t seem to escalate into arguments, but rather into informed discussions. Feeling out of reach to one another. I have seen a post referencing how the moon person can feel like the house person is out of their league, and I think this can stem from, in some cases, not being intelligent or well-rounded enough to stimulate the house person long term. This can just be a feeling and not at all be the case, because the house person learns a lot more from the moon than the moon realizes. You guys can spark the other’s adventurous side. You guys maybe only get to meet while the other is vacationing in your area. The Moon person can unconsciously inspire the house person to teach others about their speciality, such as getting you into blogging about an interest you talked to them about.

Composite Virgo Mars: Having to schedule when you two can have sex (maybe it’s long distance for a period of time). Arguments aren’t aggressive, but rather a hyper-analytical discussion that can be equally as irritating. Cleaning each other after sex. Being attracted to the other person abdominal area. When you guys start taking action towards advancing your connection, you stop eating out of nervousness. Maybe your fights stem from making one another nervous rather than a real issue itself. Bickering when you’re not with one another more so than when you’re in person. Having high expectations of one another once you become intimate partners. Wanting to come off as perfect for the other. Being extremely attentive with one another and immediately responding to any shift in energy because it can make you nervous. Really wanting to know what the other person is thinking and feeling in times of silence or during sex. Different sources have made this placement out to seem “sexually repressed,” but that is not always the case. Maybe circumstances can suppress the frequency they get to go at it, but if time permitted it could be on sight all the time. Not wanting to do anything that upsets the other or makes them uncomfortable, so lots of checking in on each other during the act to see if it’s mutually enjoyable and adapt accordingly. After sex with this person you might get extremely productive in your own personal life! Their presence in your life encourages you to get your life together and not be “messy.”

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sparklingsjy · 1 year

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enhypen's reaction to you wearing revealing clothes and other members checking you out

note: requested by anon!

contains: suggestive (hyung line) and tiny bit of smut (sunghoon), these big babies have jealousy issues, mentions of getting drunk and niki threatening his hyung LOL

heeseung:

first off he LOVES when you wear revealing clothes

heeseung loves admiring your body so whenever you show it off, he's your number one hype man

unfortunately he does get possessive once he notices jake checking you out

"y/n you are looking GOOD"

"watch your mouth jake"

"yes sir!"

he knows jake means no harm but once you dress to impress, he has to remind EVERYONE that you belong to him <3

. . . . which means a long night of seeing stars and the members teasing you guys for being loud :')

jay:

you're funny if you think he's going to let you be with the members for 5 minutes in a two piece skintight black dress

his girlfriend in revealing clothes near his members is already a sign to run

once jay sees you WHEW you better cancel your plans tomorrow cause you will NOT be walking straight

"trying to show off what's mine? hm?"

you are in for a night of aggressive make outs (and more) but the after care is AMAZING

i love jay sm can he be mine already

jake:

he's so down bad

this man genuinely cannot believe you're his when he sees you in a short silky red dress

he caresses your curves and gives you kisses all over until he hears sunoo and jungwon complimenting you

"how did jake get so lucky with y/n..."

"she looks so pretty"

"do i always have to remind you guys that she's with ME? keep your compliments to yourself!"

once he takes you to his room he gets all pouty bc he's a big baby who gets jealous quick and wants reassurance LOL

sunghoon:

"yo sunghoon y/n is looking hot tonight"

"can i take her upstairs with me?"

jay and niki LOVE pushing hoon's limits

maybe it was a mistake wearing a very revealing dress to heeseung's party

but did you care when hoon had you bent over in front of the mirror in the guest room? nah!

yes he's a shy boyfriend but this man WILL claim you if you test him

"you looked so pretty tonight baby" "only i can see you like that" "you dressed like that for me, right?"

hoon will leave you looking like a mess and covered in hickies

but only he'll be the only one seeing them so i guess it's worth it at the end :>

sunoo:

you wearing a tiny pink dress is what lead you to being showered in compliments by sunoo

"y/n you look like a princess!" "i'm so lucky to have you"

sunoo is so cautious with you and makes sure you're comfortable :(

"are you sure you want to go out like this? i'm happy you wore this for me but i want you to be comfortable too!"

however, you dressing like that had jay and heeseung's eyes on you

"sunoo you should share y/n with us"

"yeahh she looks so pretty! how did she fall for you?"

"maybe because i'm the only normal one in this group . . . and better looking"

jungwon:

wonnie is used to you wearing revealing clothes when going out at night with your friends

but he's not used to the teasing that comes from his members yet, especially sunghoon

"jungwon you're a brave man for letting her go out looking all sexy"

of course, wonnie was already staring daggers at sunghoon once he noticed him checking you out

"she knows who she belongs to so quit watching her every move hyung"

before you leave the house, he's telling you to not fall for another guy and if anyone tries to bother her, he's outside waiting to pick her up

jungwon trusts you that you'll make the right decisions and will help you get ready for bed once you guys return <3

even if it means causing a ruckus because of how drunk you got LOL

niki:

you and niki both love fashion so it's not a surprise that you're wearing the tiniest clothes in existence for a photoshoot

niki and his members went to support you but they ended up drooling over you instead

"stop drooling over someone you can't have"

"you're lucky she's even with you when i exist"

"you're lucky i haven't laid my hands on you jake"

"niki! he's older than you, be nice"

"he's drooling over my girl!"

he gets feisty when his members tease him over you LMFAO

but then again, seeing you dressed like that just made him love you even more

(⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

ending note: thank you for reading !

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aphroditelovesu · 3 months

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Yandere Satoru Gojo Headcanons (General)

"I will take care of you." — Satoru Gojo.

❝ ㊙ — lady l: lol, this turned out longer than I originally thought, but I love him so screw it! He has a complex personality, so it was more complicated trying to describe him as a yandere, but I did the best I could. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes!! 🩵💜

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, mention of stalking (mild), death and murder.

❝㊙pairing: yandere!satoru gojo x gender neutral!reader.

You probably wouldn't even realize that he was obsessed with you, that the infamous sorcerer of the Gojo Clan, was dominated by you, because he doesn't want you to know unless he wants you to. For a while, he'll be content to just watch you from afar.

Satoru is completely aware that his thoughts, his feelings are distorted, but he doesn't care, not when he was already very involved in you. You had taken over his entire life and thoughts and he wasn't bothered by it, not anymore.

At first, Satoru hated this, hated you and these thoughts that crossed his mind about you. They were ridiculous, you were ridiculous and he was even more so for thinking of you that way. After all, what was so special about you? Yes, you were attractive but it wasn't just your beauty that attracted him, there was something more. Something he didn't know how to define.

But he stopped hating you and focused on you, on his thoughts about you. Maybe they were wrong, but Gojo quickly learned to deal with them. Push them to the back of his mind and focus on his goals. And that goal, the main one at least, was you.

Satoru isn't very good at expressing how he feels about you directly, so he preferred to show his affection in a more distant way, with some gifts and letters that could seem like threats, depending on how you read them.

He is complex and acts indifferent to many and you are not the exception. He is courteous to you, but always keeps his distance, making it impossible for you to find out about his darkest thoughts. He plays with you and has fun, but always being a little obnoxious. Maybe if you looked closer, you'd notice the clenched fists and slightly pursed lips. The anguish that surrounded him when you were around.

Satoru is extremely confident in his abilities and is sure that he can win you over if he so desires. And he wants you, but he doesn't want to admit that he needs you. He doesn't like to appear weak, because he's not weak, but you make him vulnerable and he hates that.

He is apathetic towards those who are weak and if you are a person considered weak in his eyes, this will make him stressed. Not only was he attracted to you, more than that, but to a weak person? How could something like this happen? But for you, and only you, Satoru will help you become stronger, for his benefit and yours.

Satoru is possessive and will not hesitate to destroy anyone who dares to get closer to him. You are his, maybe you don't know it yet, but you belong to him. He is aggressive and will attack without remorse, prioritizing the complete destruction of the one who angered him. There will be no remorse on his face once he is done but pure satisfaction.

Ever the cunning strategist, Satoru decided it was time to act. He began to approach you in subtle ways, taking opportunities to offer hidden advice or compliments. The letters and ambiguous gifts continued to arrive, but now you began to realize that there was more behind these gestures than you initially imagined.

Little by little, Satoru broke down his own barriers and began to show a kinder, more caring side. He offered his guidance in training and missions, always masking his intentions under the appearance of a concerned mentor. You, in turn, began to notice the duality in his personality: the cold, distant professor and the man who, somehow, seemed genuinely interested in you.

But he acted more playfully with you, loosening up in a way, disguising his feelings in any way he could.

Gojo spoils you deeply, he has a lot of money and wouldn't mind spending it on you. But he has rules and will be stingy if you disobey him and will probably punish you with deprivation.

He is cold and doesn't mind sacrificing those for what he believes in and he will sacrifice anyone for you. Satoru will have no qualms about killing anyone he believes to be a potential threat to his ideals. Blood-stained hands won't make any difference to him.

Satoru Gojo is complex and difficult to understand, but his obsession with you makes him even more complicated. His feelings are masked and will only be shown if he wants to and once he has you to himself, there is no way he will let you out.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #yandere headcanons #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #yandere gojo satoru #yandere satoru gojo #yandere satoru gojo x reader #yandere satoru gojo headcanons #yandere gojo satoru x reader #headcanons

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leigh-kay · 1 year

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Phone Calls || Ethan Landry

warnings// overused gf phonecall smut plot, you all mad at me for cutting it short probably, she touches herself and he watches lol, ethan being a menace, degradation <3

She was alone when the phone rang, watching her favorite show. She was biting into a piece of the watermelon she'd grabbed in the kitchen when it startled her into dropping it.

"Hello?" she huffed, picking up the piece from her comforter.

"Hello y/n," the rasp was unmistakable to her ears.

Reagrdless, her eyes rolled, "Turn that stupid thing off. You made me drop my watermelon you jerk."

He sighed on the other end of the line, cutting the voice changer, "You know I thought it'd be funny-"

"To call me using your serial killer persona voice? Ha. I find it hilarious."

"You said it was hot when I showed up covered in blood ," she could hear his pout.

Switching to speaker phone, she sat the phone on the pillow beside her, "It was. Hell even the voice effect is... something. But your voice is my favorite."

She continued to eat her fruit, smiling at the sound of his silence at the end of the line.

He never knew how to take compliments. His flustered behavior gave her an idea. Why not push his limits?

"You sound pretty all the time but I love when you whisper in my ear. Or when you get all grumpy and assertive and sound all... aggressive."

He can tell what she's up to, and it has the opposite effect she'd imagined. Rather than turn bashful, he cuts straight to the very tone she'd talked about.

"Is that so, baby?"

"Mhm," she smiles, though he can't see her.

"Now that I think about it... you do fall apart so easily with just a few words," he's tempting with his words, "dont you pretty?"

The fruit is moved to her bed side table as she readjusts in her sheets, "The words you choose to say play a part too you know."

"Yeah? Like what?"

Heat floods her body as she thinks of all the different things he says. When she's on top of him. When she's pinned beneath him. How he begs when he's in her mouth.

"When you call me yours."

"And don't forget it. What else?"

She can feel her panties as they catch the heat pouring out of her.

"How you say my name when you.." she trails off, eyes shut.

"When I what baby?"

A sigh rushes out of her, "when you're inside of me."

"You just love when I fuck you, don't you?"

Her fingers trail to the line of her shorts, inching them down, "You know I do."

He could hear the slight whine in her voice, "Are you touching yourself?"

She gave no answer as her fingers run through her slit.

"Answer me slut."

She rolled her eyes.

"Yes mr. psycho killer," she snorted.

"Don't roll your eyes at me baby," his voice was less angry and more teasing, "now you're gonna do what I say, yeah?"

She'd come to the conclusion that he was watching her. Which also led her to believe that if she did as she was told, he'd fuck her the way she really wanted. Deal.

"Yes sir," she smiled, eyes wandering to the window at the far side of the room. She imagined he'd be sitting there, up in the tree beside it, watching her.

"Good. Now, play with that pretty pussy just like I would hm?"

She didn't need to be told twice. Slow circles across her clit made bumps break on her skin. She could feel her temperature rising as she grew needier with the teasing touches she granted herself.

"Look at you, teasing yourself just like I would. I bet you wish it was me though," she could hear the pride in his voice and while it annoyed her, orgasms trumped annoyance any day.

She took a breath, "Ethan please."

"Please what baby?"

"Just come in and touch me," she tried to keep her composure, "I'll do anything."

"Make yourself come and we'll talk about me touching you."

She groaned in frustration, "feels so much better when its you though!"

He laughed in a breath, "I know it does. But i want to watch you."

She knew he'd get what he wanted. He always did with that smile and those stupid fucking brown eyes of his. Disagreements were nonexistent the moment he made her look at him and shes pissed at the fact just picturing him is enough to make her more agreeable.

Regardless, her fingers slip into her cunt as she mumbles his name, dragging through her in a quick speed.

"Faster, angel," he demands.

"Please," she moans, "keep talking baby, please"

"God you're a whore. Touching yourself to my voice?"

Fucking hell.

Her eyes squeeze shut as he continues, "Such a pretty whore though hm? My pretty whore."

She nodded, curling her fingers in just the right way to make her whine.

"Sound so needy too, can't fucking wait to touch you honey."

She curses as she falls apart, crying his name and within seconds her closet door is thrown open.

A scream fills her room as he steps into the light.

"Fuck you!" she huffs, shooting daggers into the man ten feet away.

"You knew I was watching," he grins, making his eay towards her before crawling ontop of her.

"You know you say my name so pretty when you come?" he teases.

She finds her eyes rolling again as she glares up at him, "You said you'd fuck me if I listened."

He laughs, fingers stroking the column of her neck as he takes her lips on his own. She was perfect for him. So needy and so fucking mean. He loved it. He loved her.

Her fingers find home in his hair as she wraps her legs around his waist, dragging him closer into her.

The hand beside her head is supporting him as his free hand locks on her waist, holding her to the mattress beneath them.

As she gives a particularly sharp tug to his hair, he gasps into the kiss, hand rushing to her throat. As he sinks his fingertips into the flesh of her neck, she grins into the kiss hes pressing to her lips, "Harder."

He fights the laugh in his throat as she stares up at him, "You're in no place to make demands."

Before she can utter another word, he's squeezing tighter and letting his mouth cover the space across her chest, enjoying the way her body reacts to every move he makes. The way her back arched and her hips would roll against nothing gave him a pride he'd never had before her. She gave him a lot of things he'd never had before.

"I think," he began to drag his hand over her still dripping pussy, "I want a taste."

Her body shivered at the contact as he got between her legs. She could feel that she was insanely wet, but his commentary on it made her body burn with embarassment.

"You get so wet for me," he grinned, pressing his lips along the insides of her thighs.

Her hands attach to his shoulders as his mouth connects with her clit, tongue immediately rolling over it in slow motions. As her hips rose from the bed, his hands locked around her waist, forcing them down.

Her head fell back as his fingers slipped inside of her. She knew she was in for a long fucking night.

#smut #ethan landry smut #ethan landry #scream smut #scream 6 #ghostface #scream

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saintgoths · 6 months

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☾༺♰༻☽ʜɪꜱ ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛ☾༺♰༻☽

mdni very 18+ - he makes you dumb with his tongue.

daddy calling + over-stimulation.

simon 'ghost' riley.

Sometimes you’d think that Ghost would be doing it for himself with the way his lips lock around your pearl, he takes in the sweet extract that coated your heat, addictive, is what the both of you would think, you would repeatedly hump his face while his tongue lays flat and strokes your cunt while he feeds himself the ambrosia that would build up.

“D-daddy!” You cried out as you could feel his tongue push inside of you, frequently, you’d forget that he loved to fuck you with his tongue, aggressive and greedy he’d push his muscle up your cunt while you struggled to keep composure.

He’d have his arms locked around your body, trapping you from pulling away from him no matter how over-stimulated you were, you’d still find Ghost licking your cunt, his cold brown eyes staring up at you, dark with fervor as he’d watch you crack and cry disgracefully, face coated with tears as you’d rock your pussy against his face.

His moans vibrating through you commencing flicks of flinches as you could feel another round of climax push through you, but that’d never stop him, but cause him to pull you closer. He’d be so mean with the way he wouldn’t let you go, travelling his tongue back to your clit and petting it with a few roughness ere he returned to take care and clean the rest of your mess.

“That’s it baby doll,” he whispered, “continue cumming on my tongue,” he growled and as you were thrown into a fit with his few words, you had arched your back, eyes white as you could feel his tongue wither back into your cunt, massaging the area of your walls as you wept another climax.

“One more time for me baby doll,” he pleaded, eyes now drunk with appetite---as he whirled the tip of his tongue around your clit, proud of the clutter he had been able to push you in, you were a crying mess and he understood that the neighbours would sign another complaint with the debris of noise that originated from your home.

Your hands gripped into his hair, you had tried to keep yourself in balance, your lips trembling as you could barely remember where you had been not to mention, your own name.

As you had thrusted your hips against his face he had moaned, hard he could feel his cock gently peak with orgasm by the action of his face between his legs and as kickback, he had growled, how pathetic you were, holding onto his hair for dear life as he had eaten you, your sweet nectar layering against his face as he reached one hand into his boxers, gently stroking his thumb against the tip of his dick.

“Daddy,” you whimpered as you could feel another round of orgasm climb to its peak and as your juices had summit into his mouth, you had eventually dropped your arms to your side, a crying mess of over-stimulation. Your body flinching as he left one more peck between your legs fore he stood on his knees.

“Y’did so well baby doll,” he complimented just as he pulled you into his arms leaving a trail of kisses against your neck, calming you down.

POSITION REFERENCE ONE.

POSITION REFERENCE TWO.

why not give two position reference treats today? lol bye :)

when i reach 300 followers there'd be a special post containing more men.

♆

#simon ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost smut #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon #simon smut #ghost simon riley

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monster-fucker-on-main · 1 year

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2003 Raphael x Reader Dating HCs

A/N: I have arisen from the dead!! Pt.2 of the Raphael dating headcanons. Enjoy!

Warning(s): None

I feel like most people assume this Raph would be more likely to fall for a biker badass lady who takes no one's shit, which has potential, but honestly I can totally see our boy falling for a sweet lil girly girl

And so I raise you: the sweet lil girly girl badass

Like I feel he would be instant heart eyes for a kind hearted soul who wears dresses and their makeup and hair n shit but can absolutely hold their own in a fight

He gets a lot of snark from his brothers, so it would literally be a dream come true for him if he landed someone who showers him with compliments and encouragement, and actually attempts to see his perspective for once

Tell him how strong he is when he's doing pushups or how passionate he is when he gets fired up about something, the man will be whipped

If you have a pitbull or any other kind of dog that's generally seen as aggressive or dangerous, he'll be whipped x2

If you have pets in general, they all just kind of flock over to him, he's an animal magnet

If you have the hair texture for it, he will absolutely learn how to braid it for you, in private of course, he has a reputation to uphold

Also knits you things, but you CANNOT tell anyone that he made them for you (everyone knows it has him lol)

Some people depict him as a bit of a flirt, and I might be inclined to agree if it was someone he didn't genuinely have a crush on he was flirting with

But with you?

Absolutely tongue-tied, and believe me he has tried

Very protective over you, whether you can fight or not

Absolutely gets jealous, Mikey has made a habit of flirting with you when he's around just to piss him off

Be prepared for angry kisses later that day ;)

Speaking of which, sucks at kissing at first but quickly gets the hang of it and once he does...(I can't find the side eye emoji)

Out of all the Raphs (excluding rise), he is the most likely to intentionally confess

Well, maybe confess is an overstatement

He will drop not so subtle hints that he wants to get with you

For example: "Yeah, ya know I've always had kind of a thing for *insert your type here* girls."

Que intense eye contact

Walks you home every time you leave the lair if you don't have a vehicle, you DO NOT have a choice

If you ever get in an argument with someone, he will support the hell out of you, like crossing his arms and nodding behind you with a "don't fuck with us" expression, yelling "what she said!" when you make a good point, etc.

I feel like the relationship has two sides: the "kick his ass babe I got yo flower" side, and the "she asked for no pickles" side

Overall, you're one of the few people of the few people that get to see Raph's softer side, he's your big over protective teddy bear and your his rational other half that he can always depend on

Very supportive relationship 10/10

#tmnt raphael x reader #tmnt raphael #raph x reader #raphael x reader #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2003 raph #tmnt 2003 x reader

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leejeongz · 8 months

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🫧 small things evnne would do as your boyfriend 🫧

pairing: boyf!evnne x gn!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: mentions of food

a/n: just a reminder that i don’t write for 06 and younger (jihoo), see rules

⋆ hanbin

⋆ he’s the BIGGEST flirt and loves to see you panicking and blushing

⋆ but he just laughs in your face instead of calling you cute he just cannot help himself 💀

⋆ the most supportive bf, he will be your personal cheerleader no matter what the event and he will never get tired of it

⋆ PDA and lots of it, but if you initiate it he’s gonna tease you for it (he loves it tho fr)

⋆ “it reminded me of you and i missed you so much so i had to buy it” gift giver vs “hanbin, you were gone for an hour” gift receiver

⋆ tries to teach you to dance sometimes and is very honest about it… but sings your praises to everyone else even if ur trash

⋆ bro literally gets cute aggression whenever your around, he just gets the urge to eat u in a cute loving way lmfao

⋆ this man always knows what to say to you like he just says the right thing at the right time and you immediately feel comforted

other members under the cut

⋆ keita

⋆ he’s obsessed with you i mean OBSESSED everything about you is just so fascinating to him

⋆ star gazing + cloud spotting <333

⋆ gets extremely sulky when you watch an ep of a show without him and makes you rewatch it by his side

⋆ when you’re feeling down, he orders your favourite pizza and cuddles you on the sofa until you’re ready to talk

⋆ let’s you be in his studio while he’s recording or composing because he wants to show off

⋆ and also because he thinks it’s cool when you show off your musical talents in there too

⋆ gets lost in your eyes when you talk and half stops listening for a brief moment until you pull him up on it

⋆ gentle pecks on your shoulder when he can tell you’re getting nervous/anxious

⋆ you and his family become SOOO close, he takes you to visit all the time, you’re so precious to all of them

⋆ jeonghyeon

⋆ subtle matching couple items that he’s just waiting for someone to ask him about so he can tell them about you

⋆ the way he looks at you gives you butterflies, of course it does, but the way he looks at you when you’re not looking gives other people butterflies he literally adores you and everything that you do everyone is envious

⋆ speaking of, he gets jealous when you give absolutely anyone else more attention than you’re giving him in that moment

⋆ i’m talking full pout and a passive aggressive comment under his breath which he most certainly takes back when you hear him

⋆ even tho he’s ur boyfriend he still tries too hard to impress you sometimes 😭 styling his hair with wayyy too much gel for example

⋆ nags. but in a teasing “you should’ve brought your own” kinda way

⋆ needs you to kiss his nose 24/7 but will he ever admit it? no absolutely not.

⋆ seungeon

⋆ he thinks you’re the funniest person ever istg

⋆ like he’s laughing all the time when he’s with you

⋆ a hugeeee prankster (but he knows ur limits) you’ll hear him giggling at your reaction and you’ll definitely want pay back lmaoo

⋆ when you get sick, he makes you soup (pours it out of a can and heats it up in the microwave ) and waits by the side of your bed for a compliment

⋆ he is 100% the type to kiss you once on the cheek or the lips and then not be able to stop kissing you

⋆ is gonna be singing to you half the day and it’s always gonna sound so damn good you’ll run out of ways to tell him how amazing he is

⋆ the other half of the day he’s complaining that his throat hurts and he needs you to make him some tea (because no one makes it like you do and he’s grown far too attached to you and your tea lol)

⋆ squishes your cheeks when you’re least expecting it

⋆ yunseo

⋆ this man 😭

⋆ loves his physical affection, having his arms around you when you’re doing absolutely anything, holding your hand, his hand on your thigh/knee when you’re sitting together 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

⋆ he finds comfort in being close to you and being able to hold your hand

⋆ gets sO shy when you compliment him, he’s gonna be blushing and questioning you the whole time with a cute little smile he cannot BELIEVE

⋆ buys your fav ice cream when he gets in from practice late hoping that you’re still awake so you can watch some disney+ together while eating the ice cream

⋆ he takes serious relationship talks very seriously and always wants to be a better boyfriend to you so he listens and apologises very sincerely (he can definitely hold his own tho don’t get me wrong)

⋆ glances at your lips when you talk, thinks he’s being subtle and discreet but he’s defo not

⋆ buys you a teddy bear for your birthday every year without fail to cuddle in bed when he's not there (but tells you it doesn’t beat the real thing (it doesn’t))

⋆ junghyun

⋆ pet. names. all of them. any that you can think of and more. without shame !!

⋆ (okay maybe he’s a bit shy at first but it doesn’t take him long before he’s firing them out left right and centre)

⋆ goes absolutely crazy for a forehead kiss and will give you puppy eyes if you don’t deliver

⋆ his hoodies = your hoodies

⋆ in fact, he gets a bit offended if you say that you don’t wanna wear them

⋆ rests his head on your shoulder and pretends to sleep

⋆ but he’s actually just laughing to himself about how fast your heart is beating cos of him

⋆ his first i love you being the most embarrassing thing ever for him that he’ll never live down (you MUST tease him for his shyness)

⋆ he’s gonna learn to bake for you and you’re gonna love the cookies he makes 🫵🏻

⋆ random trips to get fast food

#evnne #evnne imagines #evnne scenarios #lee jeonghyeon #park hanbin #mun junghyun #ji yunseo #yoo seungeon #keita #boys planet #boys planet imagines #boys planet reactions

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multi-fandomsfreak · 4 months

Note

Just wanted to put this in your head..

Imagine this video:

But instead of Xenophanes simping for Needlemouse he's simping for demon reader. 😏

Xenophanes simping over demon reader

Hey there! Thanks for the ask!

Thanks for feeding into my delusions lol. Really appreciate it. I already like Xeno enough and like to think he does this even though I know damn well he’ll probably do some stuff to me.

Also for now requests are closed. Mostly because it’s almost Christmas and I want to spend the time between now and then with my family. Anyways all aside hope you enjoy it reading this. ~J/Blaze

Pronouns: Not Mentioned

Warning: ⚠️ Obsessive/Possessive behaviour + Murder⚠️

Requested: Yes/No

Characters: Xenophanes + Mentions of the EXE’s (Mostly Lord X and Fleetway)

Proofread: ❌

Credits: Art by komiplier on Twitter + Banner by 5macc13 on Pinterest

———————————

- Let me tell you when this man simps for you, he simps for you hard. Although he doesn’t admit it, he really likes you. He likes having your company, he likes it when you join him in whatever he is doing it gives him more joy than doing the thing by himself. He’s kind of gotten attached to you. Both emotionally and quite literally. He’s always seen around you, kind of like a bodyguard constantly keeping you to himself. Not letting anyone near you and if someone needs to speak to you he’ll be there standing right next to you.

- He definitely gets made fun of due to how much he likes you, mostly Lord x and Fleetway though. Lord X is a smug little shit once he finds out about Xeno’s little obsession over you he’s teasing the hell out of him. Making slight passive aggressive comments about his love for you at him and when he calls him out on it Lord X acts like he didn’t say anything wrong. Fleetway on the other hand oh he’s not even trying to hide that he’s teasing Xeno. In fact he indulges in the reactions that Xeno gives off, seeing him act like a child denying their crush makes him laugh. Fleetway may have hinted that Xeno simps for you directly but quickly gets shut down.

- He can get a little possessive around you. Well a little is an understatement for someone like him but regardless possessive. He has to be around you regardless of the situation. Yes he’s fully aware that you are a demon yourself and that you can and have dealt with some disturbing shit as well as causing some disturbing shit but is that going to stop him from acting like this? Nope it won’t. I’d suggest getting comfortable with his possessiveness because it really is something.

- With him being possessive he’s also very obsessed over you and sometimes fawns over you. Not in public though he’s not getting more embarrassed by the others than he already does. Don’t get me wrong he does show his appreciation in his own way just don’t expect to see like an exaggerated reaction. In private though, he’s completely different. If you so much as give him a compliment as soon as he’s alone and he knows that he is alone he could feel himself becoming slightly giddy. It’s like a fan who got recognised by their favourite artist. He does tell himself to not get too into his emotions but at the same time he can’t help but feel this way you do or say anything positive towards him. A simple praise like ‘good job’ is enough to make him feel like this.

- That’s just the tame stuff he does, don’t even get me started on what else he might do. Considering what and who he is I doubt that he won’t murder someone who gets close to you. If someone even dares to look at you or show interest in you he’ll make sure that they learn something and leave you alone. If he’s feeling nice enough he might let them live, not fully intact but being able to recover but most of the time he isn’t. It’s even worse if the person talks shit about you. He’ll make it worse for them.

- You’ve got him wrapped around your finger, congrats. You can basically make him do anything you want. No matter how extreme it might seem or see if you tell him to do it he will. Everyone definitely notices this because he doesn’t do the same to them. If they need something from him or need him to do something they immediately go to you and ask him to do it. Some of them only do this when they have to because they understand that it can be annoying when you're constantly being told to do something for them but for some of the others they tell you to ask him to do some embarrassing stuff and he’ll do it no doubt.

- Overall, for some reason you don’t question his behaviour. You know that sometimes Xeno can have some moments and despite things listed above he can be fun to hang around so you don’t really pay much attention to what he does.

———————————

#sonic.exe #sonic.exe x reader #xenophanes #xenophanes x reader #xenophane #xenophane x reader #lord x #fleetway #fleetway sonic #sonic the hedgehog #sonic series #sonic series x reader #sonic #sonic x reader #x reader #request

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chokchokk · 10 months

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𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐭, 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 | choi san x fem!reader

PART TWO of : have your way with words, be my people pleaser

"Why? Am I not allowed to care now?"

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: He usually doesn’t drink this much. No, maybe he does, but it definitely shouldn’t make San act like this.

It must be a trap, you think, but you’ve already fallen for him, so there’s nothing you can do except not getting your heart broken.

"As if you could care."

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: smut, angst, fluff (if you squint)

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 7.1k

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐(𝚜): alcohol, san is drunk, reader doesn't fuck drunk people, lack of communication, non-penetrative sex, fingering, squirting, aftercare, showering, sleeping together (in a bed)

𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜: prologue + main part, finished

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎: please know that i wrote this before ateez drank in their video so any sign of projection is like just ... bad luck LMAO but uhhhhhh yeah here's the start of the A N G S T of it all so enjoy lol !!! <33

𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲

unknown number: sannie i think i left my phone at your place

unknown number: oh wait

unknown number: yeah i’m an idiot

unknown number: how do i delete this message

unknown number: btw is my name still “unknown number”

unknown number: because you should really change that

“That’s our thing,” he laughs, “she’s smart and all, but every time we hook-up, it’s like, I’m seriously fucking her stupid.“

His roommate snickers and looks at the contact name.

“So, uh, what are you two?”

“Hm?”

“You guys have good chemistry! Or are you going to keep up with the whole “sex-buddies” schtick? She seems cool, why not give her a chance?“

“Nah.. You know I can’t get myself involved in that again, Seonghwa. My last relationship.. I get goosebumps just thinking about it, really. I think she wouldn’t even want that, too. It’s all just jokes and fun between us.”

“Really?“

He turns off his phone.

“Okay, only sometimes, I guess.” He smirks. “But I really like that about her, actually. She doesn’t do it as much now, but, uhm.. she compliments me a lot?”

“San, you’re so fucked up.”

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞? 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐡, 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡.

“Hey, it’s me! Open the door~!", his voice rings and San should be very happy you’re still awake at 3 AM on a Sunday. “Let me in!”, he repeats and it’s not a loud, aggressive shout, but urgent enough to snap you out of your mindlessly scrolling-cycle on your phone and make you question whether you’ve heard correctly or are imagining things.

It’s a very bold move, really, thinking that your home is free for him to come at any given time, and if it wasn’t for the unnecessarily sweet drunken “pretty please?” that follows right after his demand, you would have gladly let him walk all the way to his own residency, but you’re weak, weak for him, so even though you do hesitate, the door is opened with almost no significant time having passed.

“Well, good morning,” you chuckle and watch the man lean against the frame with his head, his legs unable to hold the weight of his upper body. He’s wearing his usual fit of a black T-shirt and a pair of jeans, but his blushed cheeks, the smell of sweet tangy fruits and other sour substances tells you more about his evening than you need to ask for. It’s also not helping that his lips look swollen, smudged with red lipstick that he definitely tried to get rid of with a lot of rubbing on the way here — San's had a long night and he's waiting for it to get longer.

“I can’t drive like this,” San explains and his eyes are barely opening while he tries to keep a serious tone as he speaks in short-cut sentences, “and you were nearby... so now I’m here.”

“Did I ask? Get in here, Sannie.”

You grab his arm, or at least try to get your hand around his thick bicep and drag him inside, the door closing with a thump. “Thank you~,” San giggles and it takes a lot to not make him stumble completely onto you, you managing to put him down on your couch with your whole body-power, his face immediately plunging into one of the pillows.

“Where’s your jacket?”, you ask, as you stare holes into his muscular back and broad shoulders.

“Didn’t wear one,” he lisps through the fabric and his voice is raspy.

“Dumbass."

Trying to help him, you decide you’re going to get him a cup of water, but before you can let loose of him and disappear into the kitchen, San grabs you by your hand, immediately crossing his fingers into yours.

“No, stay,” San begs with a soft-spoken voice, face still planted into the couch, and he doesn’t know what those words are doing to you. Yeah, you guys have been having one or two one-night-stands too many with the unspoken promise to plead no hard feelings, but it’s him. Catching feelings for San hasn’t been something you’ve deliberately made the attempt to avoid.

But maybe you would have, if you’d known how painful it was going to be.

“Your hands are so soft,” he daydreams, a melody accompanying his rambling, “so soft and warm, like- like everything about you. I was actually just thinking about that on the way here! I don’t know if you noticed, but I really like holding your hands. They fit so perfectly around everything, and really everything— it’s amazing, really, really… amazing.”

“Funny of you to say that,” you comment on his drunk sweet-talk with a tired— but still entertained— sigh and stand there, dumbfounded, his hand sweating into yours. Is this the same guy that told you that he was uneasy when someone (namely his girlfriend) held his hand?

“Why funny? It’s my truth! Your hands are one of your best assets, second to.. your lips, maybe?”

“How shameless!”

Of course he’s absolutely boozed right now, but it’s been well-established to you that San only wears his silly loveable himbo-mask only when he’s subconsciously benefitting from it. Once you two had met up enough to have gotten comfortable with each other, San’s “nerdy” personality had magically disappeared, leaving you with one confident, prude-ishly sex-seeking macho. The “Sannie” you were looking for has somehow vanished into small moments and yes, it’s not like you haven’t been the one trying to crack through his shy façade for your own enjoyment in the first place, but you do miss watching the cheeky guy push up his glasses during your studies, glancing over at you from time to time, blushing, when he catches you staring back.

“Shame finds no place between us, does it~?”

Yet, exam season is over, has been over for a longer time now, which only makes it more evident that San is trying to find excuses to come over for reasons that go below bonding emotionally by miles. Sure, the hook-ups have been fun, exhilaratingly so. He’s all yours, San says repeatedly, but once you’d realised that he was still casually seeing other people, and it was just a saying, but worse, had felt an aching sting inside your breast when you had done so, yeah, fuck, that has been the moment you’ve known that having sex with this man isn’t enough: You have fallen in love (or something similar) with San and a serious relationship is the seal to quench your thirst for his affection.

“I guess we’ve got rid of shame a long time ago, huh,” you answer non-chalantly.

His hands are soft too. His lips are like one addictive book you can’t help but stick your face into, breathe in the words they say, inhale the soothing scent and make it your perfume — you’re smitten for him. You can’t begin to fathom the dread you feel when something inside you ever-so enchantingly tickles when San giggles, acknowledging your ways: "That's who we are!"

He knows that it's not who you "are" as he sits there on your couch, fingers interlocking, it’s… well, who you had been.

Two people who didn't have to think before they said anything, be free with their thoughts in order to relieve them from the stress that came from maintaining concentration and quality. Have you been with him enough to say you miss the older San? The sweet, sometimes silly Sannie?

"You’re my stupid whore, don't you forget!”

No, time alone can’t tell that. But even the sweetest strawberries mold when they're not eaten and waiting is a tiring process.

“Yeah.”

For the short time you've known and yearned for San, he’s been in multiple committed relationships, which is one of the reasons why it has taken you two so long to finally fuck, and it hasn’t really bothered you while you hadn’t, since you couldn’t know what you were missing out on.

But now— though you’ve never seen him be with his girlfriends— you have gathered enough information to know that San’s got it in him. He doesn’t like talking about his endeavours and you could only get a little bit of small-talk with Seonghwa about it, yet from what you know now, your college “love”-experiences don’t come even one inch close to the romances he’s been in; you can’t help but find yourself fantasising about his sweet ways of loving.

You have had enough of half-assery, enough of hangovers, and the thing is, you desperately don’t want San to be your next failed situationship. Knowing that he is single, that right now, he is able to be taken— taken by you— but him still not being yours; it makes you question things you haven’t stopped to question about yourself when being with other people. Like, what do you have to do, what do you have to be in order for San to not visit some dumb party in the first place? He hasn’t visited as many parties when you were just “study-buddies”, why is he visiting them now?

It— whatever “it” is— has developed into something like a challenge, making San want you and only you. Turns out though, that stuff is more difficult than anything you've been doing for college. At least when you had to study, San wasn’t going around having fucking other women.

“Were you gonna leave me?”

Yes, of course you feel pathetic thinking about it like this; you know it’s all an error in communication in regards to your “friends with benefits”-lifestyle you and San are carrying out, but if it has gotten you two together the first time around, the manifestation must work the second time: That’s the only trust you have and it’s enough to keep you going and engage in San's unannounced rendezvous.

"No, you sound like you needed water, that’s all.”

For a while, San just breathes heavily into the pillow and you caress his finger. It does remind you a little bit of the movie-nights you've had with him in the past, when you tried to make your hands touch inside the popcorn like some lovesick child. Maybe it has never been about the sex.

His finger twitches as if he's already gone to slumber, but when you scuffle to get him a blanket at least, San yanks you back down.

“No! Noo, I need you, nothing else! Stay here, please,” he thrums, lurking from the pillow to wink at you, though before you can react to this sentence, San mutters, "I'm not going to fall asleep. I'm not tired, I'm just exhausted." That's the same thing, Sannie.

“Where were you, anyways?”, you ask and make yourself comfortable, San’s and your hands placed on the edge of the sofa, while his stomach lays flat over the whole surface, legs extended out.

“Where I was? Good question,” San lulls, laughing a little bit, "Seonghwa brought me as his plus one to one of his friend’s birthday party, that’s where I was!”

“Sounds nice,” you hum. “Didn’t know you were a cocktail-type of person, though.”

“Oh, do I smell?”

“Mhm—“

“But you’re right, actually, I’m not a long drink-drinker,” San falls in. Your eyes still being closed, you feel his soft, heated cheek against the surface of your hand, his swollen lips chafing subtly against your fingers. “But some girls came by with trays of self-made cocktails and… we couldn’t say no, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” you answer to just have answered something to fill in the silence. You can smell the saccarine scent in his T-shirt and you fear it's going to paint off from his saliva he's spreading onto your palm as San places kisses around your hand. "What do you think you're doing?", you ask sarcastically.

"Nothing?", San giggles, becoming a bit more eager with the smooches.

You've experienced him drunk a lot of times already, but usually he only drinks just up until the point where he can keep his “educated” tone to a perceivable level of sobriety. But as of right now, in contrast, he seems to be way loose, swimming somewhere in between of lust and senselessness, which irritates you more than it should.

That is another thing that has changed after a while you two had sex. You are perceiving him differently, more and more differently each time San exits through your door, leaving an emptiness inside you that another person can’t fill, by whatever measure possible. But apparently, the same doesn’t happen for him with you, and you have to convince yourself you can change that every single day.

“We should party together more often,” he inclines, “what do you like to drink?”

“Whatever’s available and does its job, I suppose.”

He giggles, gasping at your answer. “You don’t care about taste?”

“I mean, drink enough and everything is going to taste the same anyway, no?”

"Let's do it."

"Huh?"

"I'm in the mood right now~ Are you in the mood right now?"

You scoff and open your eyes, revealing a San piercing his sunken gaze through you, cupping his cheek with your hand surface like you’re a saint healing him, his nose glazed red, and his lips remain pinkishly stained — in the mood.

This is not Sannie, but your guts still churn in amazement at the sight. The fatigue is wearing off; the sight of the black-haired man caressing himself with you is... "appealing" to say the least. It looks like he’s devoting himself to you, but you’d be a lovelorn fool to think this to be true.

“Or am I too drunk?”, San asks, pouting. “I may sound like this, but I’m really not that drunk anymore, I swear!” He pushes his eyebrows down, seemingly trying to appear serious, but failing to do so.

“You don’t need to swear anything, San.”

Gritting your teeth, you try to maintain a smile towards the drunken man as benevolently as you can. Of course he came for only one thing and one thing only, regardless of how cute he's huffing against your words; here are you, thinking that San was trying to get you as his plus one just like Seonghwa did.

Fuck, he’s still so hot though, there is no way of denying that. The first attraction has never worn off and you’re still head over heels for this man who’s booping your nose tip with his finger on the hand that is intertwined with your own.

“So, what do you say, sweety?”

It only takes one look towards his private area to know that San’s pants are almost exploding from how hard he’s become, his bulge being a face-forward sign inquiring sex.

“San, you know I won’t. It didn’t work the last time, don’t recall?”, you whoop.

He tries to kiss you, but fails to do so, as San misses your lips by an inch and falls to the floor. Your hands finally separate and you rub the inner burning space between your fingers as you remind him of the time when he’d drunk-texted you a message asking for "a quickie". San had made no spelling mistakes, but it had been very clear he had went to a party and returned sexually unsatisfied.

“Yeah, but that was via SMS. Now I’m here, and like, I even found my way to you, and they lived— like three blocks away, so I'm able to orientate myself, see?”, San corrects you.

“Impressive, but it doesn't change anything.”

“Morals?”

“Yes, morals.”

"You know I want to fuck you," he mumbles sulkily. Shuffling around, San sits up straight and looks at you with a saddened expression, his eyes trying to focus on you as he continues to talk you over: “But if you’re also drunk, you would?”

“Don’t even start."

“Which means you would?”

“San.”

“Come on, I’m being— I’m really being serious this time!”

You chuckle and brush his messy hair to the back, approaching his face to a dangerous distance, San’s lips opened by a slit, heavy breathing leaving his mouth while he watches you, his lip corners slightly turned upwards. He’s panting, his penis must be fighting for its life right now, and you’re just petting his head.

“At least watch me do it, then."

“Watch you masturbate?”

“Yep!”, San nods and unbuckles his belt without hesitation. “I bet you’d enjoy that! You would enjoy it, wouldn't you?”

“Maybe. Only if you don’t hold back your moans.”

“Consider it done, baby!”

You let out a laugh and search for a better position for seating to apparently enjoy the view. The drunk man takes a while to get rid of his pants, his legs getting tangled up and all, but once he kneels there, in his underwear, it’s showtime.

Or at least something like showtime. He’s being way too interactive with it for you to just sit back and relax. Whining your name in a needy pitch, he starts to pump his hardened cock inside the boxers, leaving whatever is happening there up to your imagination like a suggestive soft-porn video. However, you’ve seen his penis enough to know what it looks like, so this task is not too difficult for you. You can draw a picture of his cock down to each vein in your mind and you catch yourself drooling a bit, when you see his glistening tip peak from his waistband. You have to keep yourself together.

While letting out low groans, rubbing the head of his erection and creating slick sounds, San searches for your vicinity: “You like what you’re seeing there~?”

“What are you, a camboy?”, you tease and inhale sharply, when San grabs the seam of his T-shirt and bites down on it, revealing all of his abdomen, whining through his teeth. He’s definitely seen the same things as you online and his abs look phenomenal. Those things aren’t necessarily connected, but it’s the two thoughts shooting through your head as he begins to move his lower body to pump himself through his hand, chasing his own high.

“I don’t know!”, he lies, “I just like pleasing you!”

San purrs, his pelvis moving in round circles to accentuate his V-line and muscles flexing and un-flexing as he does so— leaving you quite speechless.

“Ah, really?”, you pant, him answering a very well-behaved “yeah, really~” right after.

“What do you want me to call you when I cum? Mommy?”

“Oh my god, is alcohol bringing out the submissive side out of you?”, you try to defuse the tension (mostly to hold yourself back from going savage towards this man as you always do) and chortle.

“Hmm, I don’t know about submissive~,” San answers, the saliva from his mouth soaking his black shirt, “but I should get naked first, no?”

“Yeah, definitely.” Taken aback by how you're anticipating seeing San jack himself off, you turn a bit too honest too quick like an avid viewer.

He grins and pulls the remaining clothing over his head with both hands, and his tip is still squeezed between his pelvis and waistband. By now, you really want to lick up the precum that’s leaking out, but you try to take your role as the sober audience seriously.

“You know, at the party, there was a girl,” San narrates, throwing his shirt to the side and looking down at his naked torso, “she told me I had nice pecs, so I said thank you, as one should.”

As an attempt to not interfere his performance, you wordlessly follow San’s hand trailing down his chest area down to his pelvis.

“But then someone told me she was flirting,” he continues, theatrically gasping to re-enact the surprise he felt after his friend had lectured him, “oh my god! I didn’t know! So naturally, I made out with her.” Which explains the red-stained lips, okay. Where is this talk going?

“But, the funny thing is,” San laughs, continuously brushing over his skin to give himself goosebumps, finally taking off his boxer-shorts up to his knees, his fully-erect, hardened cock jumping out and slapping against his abdomen as he plays with it, “she was so distracted by them, we didn’t even have sex. Like, she was massaging them and nothing else!”

You gulp at the sight of San lick over his finger and spread the spit on his lip with an opened mouth, making him look very erotic and naughty. His masturbating doesn’t seem to be speeding up any time soon though, San’s little tale isn’t over yet.

“I mean, it didn’t get me frustrated,” San admits, “but it did make me realise that some people can be in it for different reasons~!” That’s where he’s going with it, huh?

Okay, maybe you aren’t being very truthful to yourself, if you think that you've succeeded in hiding your feelings from San.

Let it be the one instance when you told him you were currently only hooking up with him and nobody else, or the other, when you woke up earlier than him and Seonghwa was the one to make you breakfast, San hearing his roommate joke that he should “join you sometime” and you dismissed it by saying you prefer it “private” — San has been presented the picture numerous times now, the picture being you wanting more than this, more than playing around with each other.

Which makes it all worse.

“… And she was in it for my boobs!”, San giggles and you notice you haven’t been listening for some while, staring at his hand installed around his dick, pre-cum dripping onto your living room-floor.

“San, less talking, more making yourself come.”

“Heyy, where'd that come from?”, San wheezes and leans against the couch, propping himself up with one elbow, “I haven’t asked you yet, what you are in it for, my lo—“

“Stop, fucking hell, I wanted to see you cum! Do it, San. I thought you were going to give me a show, not tell me a bedtime-story.”

“Geez, I just wanted to ask you about your kinks~!” Of course.

Grinning, San pumps himself quicker, hissing and whimpering, enjoying having all your attention on him. And even though there's nothing you'd love to do more than sucking him off, you’re still keep your hands to yourself, massaging your own tits as somewhat an homage to his dubious anecdote, but also compensate the vibrating between your legs. You’ve gotten unbearably aroused.

“Shit, keep touching yourself like that,” San responds and hopefully he’s forgotten what he was asking for. Filled with a sudden rush, he sings: “Do you want to masturbate too? With me? Do that, it'll be so hot. I will watch you too! Please, touch yourself with me.”

Too irritated and horny to do anything else about it, you let your hand slide into your pyjamas, and you meet your wet pussy immediately. You drive your fingers over the slickness, silently exhaling.

“That’s so hot,” San admires you and his vocabulary seems to have minimized due to his drunkness. He intensifies his masturbation, the grip around himself becoming tighter, and as he begins to thrust his pelvis through the hole he’s created on his own with his balled fist, San hisses erotically. Still not in control of his body, his arm holding him up folds unintentionally. San trips, and you twitch out of worry which you quickly realise you shouldn’t have. It's just a short moment, dismissable at best and to he honest, San is the one who’s naked, but in this moment, you feel more exposed than you’ve ever been. Fuck.

He doesn’t say anything, thankfully so, but as San moans and laughs simultaneously, almost with a mocking undertone, you don’t know whether the feeling inside your guts is your lust multiplying or your heart dropping. To get rid of bitter thoughts, you hope it’s the first and insert your fingers into yourself, trying to match the pace of San’s movement.

“You sure— that— you don’t need my help?”, San asks with not-so innocent intent, and his voice is strained from letting all the moans out as you told him to. “I really want to eat you out right now, there wasn’t anything to eat at the party… No food and too many cocktails~ Too many— oh, fuck…”

Becoming faster with his hands, it appears San is slowly approaching his orgasm, murmuring drunken words while you just started having fun with your own masturbation.

“Hold it,” you groan, trying to quicken up your pace.

“But,” San whines, working his ass front to back as he’s edged himself, “I even asked you, I— I can make you cum! I can make you cum without penetrating you, so please— just— let me cum! Didn’t you say you wanted to see me do that?”

“Changed my mind,” you say, scoffing at the whimpering man, sweat forming on his chest and dripping down his skin. “Now be a good boy and don’t cum until I say so.”

San is definitely exploring his submissive sides here, his brain almost doing a complete revamp when he hears himself be called "a good boy", a pant leaving his mouth, trying to follow your command. It’s like he’s become even more drunk, bathing in your praise when you hum: “Ohh, yes..”

Eyebrows pushed together, his dazy eyes disappear somewhere into the breaths of arousal in the thick air that’s been created between you two. San is crushed in between the pressure to perform well and his pure desire, the devilish voice inside his head whispering words of profanities to him. The blush accompanying the florid stains on his lip— San looks absolutely, endearingly fuckable.

“Oh my god," you gasp, hoarsely laughing at him, but mostly out of amazement, "you should see yourself right now."

"What? Do I look that good?", he snaps back, thrusting as fast as he tries to keep up with you, almost competing with the pace you're pleasuring yourself. Short of breath, San wheezes: "You sound so wet, and I bet that was all me, wasn't it? Because I look so good? I'm your type, aren't I? Nobody gets you like I do?"

"San—!”

Using your thumb to circle around your clitoris, you fall victim to San's provocative teasing that you’re not comprehending at all. All it takes is his sly, foxy side grin for you to understand that San is asking questions he knows the answers to, knows them a bit too well maybe, but he will not back down.

"Say it! You wouldn't have opened the door if I was someone else, would you?", he asks and you don't notice that he's leaning forward to you the more you fall back so you can reach your g-spot better. “Tell me, tell me what’s on your mind, you stopped doing that! Praise me more, aren’t I your hard-working camboy?”

"Don't act like you'd care!", it sizzles out of your mouth, a light-hearted chuckle following your answer as your finger slides over the spot that gets you moan the loudest, sparks of pleasure forming and exploding in your pants.

"Why? Am I not allowed to care now?"

San is special, but so are you, and for the faint of your own feelings you won't allow this man to destroy your will just yet. You're already struggling to drive yourself to an orgasm all by yourself when San could do it so much better, but you can't afford a drunken confession (even if you're not even the one who's drunk) even for the sake of it.

"As if you could care," you joke with a wheeze and you catch yourself stopping to care about it. There is no inherent shame in liking San, but if there was, you aren't going to be embarrassed within the safe walls of your own home. You need the orgasm first.

"Well, yeah, I don't, but I'd still like to hear it out of your pretty mouth," San gutters huskily with the same grin, approaching you even more so you can see his abs tense up— thighs almost shaking from the withheld orgasm— up-front. “Take your clothes off.”

There's that again, this shift of power that San loves to abuse. Like a fucking metronome switching from one side to another, San changes up, which makes it impossible to get into his head. He's too smart to be sabotaged into submission, he must do it by himself. He's a wild animal that way, preying on you with hungry eyes, waiting for the moment you're too distracted to fight back. "Distracted" meaning wanting his cock in your cunt, that is.

Hurrying the hell up, you hastily pull off your pants and panties over your legs, revealing your pulsating, throbbing pussy that has been rubbed to a numbingly sensitive state.

"Yeah, I knew it, you're so fucking wet, shit, you’re leaking," San sighs in awe, gulping at the sight of your labia be moved around by your fingers, still wanking. "You should know that I’m so mad that I can’t bury my face between your thighs— you're so, fuck, you're so gorgeous, you should be the one who's the camgirl, shit.”

By now, your and his face are mere centimetres from each other, and there’s this heat that drives both of you, his lewd words melting against your skin.

"Oh my god, shut the fuck up," you sneer, flattered by his empty-minded eulogy, "I'm not going to let you fuck me even if you're being nice."

"Can you even make yourself cum with your own fingers?", San hisses pettily, watching them go in and out of you, daring you to go deeper, "I bet it doesn't feel like I do!”

"It doesn't, thank you very much," you quarrel and throw your head back for a moment to moan, accepting his challenge of resisting his soliciting. He’s piercing through you with lusty eyes— glassy from the orgasm he's been fleeing from since the beginning of your dispute, almost crying from being restrained that much.

"Are you close?", he whines, getting a bit impatient. "Please be close."

What? Do you think I'll let you cum?

"I'm so close," you whine back, speedening your fingers inside you, trying to thunder them as forcefully as possible to simulate the thickness and vigour of San.

“Good, that’s so very good.”

Sighs and pants leave through San’s opened lips and he looks for greed inside your irises, as you watch his shaft shimmer under the night-lights, imagining it pulsing through you, all of its girth stretching you out in a way you can’t achieve with your fingers from this angle.

“San,” you whimper, feeling your climax approaching quickly.

“Hmnh?”, the addressed man reacts, and his voice is shivering, waiting for you to say the magic words.

“San,” you moan again.

Tell me that you want me. How bad you want me. That you want to be mine, that you want me to be yours. That you’re thinking of nobody else, that you’ll only think of—

“I’m here, baby,” San answers and swings one hand around your neck, closing the small distance by pulling you closer to him; your lips clash together and his tongue eagerly slicks against yours, him heavily breathing inside your mouth. His saliva tastes of a life on the other side of the globe and as he thrusts into his grip with an unbelievable velocity, orgasming with strings of cum landing on your pyjamas, you feel otherworldly.

But San won’t stop milking himself until you have come to exhaustion as well: When he sees you push your lower body up, San throws his unoccupied hand under yours to take over your onanism, burying his digits inside you immediately. Surprised by his sudden gesture, you back your head away from the kiss, your body spasming together because of the overwhelming pleasure.

“You know you need me, don’tcha?”, San beams.

This is wrong, this is all wrong, this is not how you planned this, you cry, but by itself, your hand rubs over your clitoris repeatedly and because San has become a master in knowing where, when and how to finger you, it is impossible to not cum with him and become a moaning mess under his touch. It’s whirring, it’s sparking, San is trying to send you over the edge of the world and you’ll risk everything for it.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” you whimper, feeling like you’re being intoxicated with the poisonous sucking at your neck and the stirring in your pussy; your body is being stimulated at so many points that it can’t catch up anymore. Not missing one beat, you scream out your orgasm, falling into the embrace of the muscular man who is barely any safety, his fingers not leaving your pussy.

“Be happy I’m not gonna shoot my second load into you, because your tiny pussy would feel so fucking perfect around my big cock right now and I could stretch it out so fucking nicely,” San growls intimidatingly, and you notice that his dick has become hard again right after his first orgasm, his stamina continuing to be one ridiculous weapon.

You moan, and apparently you’re not able to say anything except this, swinging your arms around his shoulders to not fall deeper into his fingers that are stirring your insides, “San!”

“What?”, he sneers and bites into your ear, “Aren’t you enjoying yourself?”

“San, I—,” you start begging and reinforce the clasp to somehow make him slow down, tugging at his hair.

“Hmm? Yes? What are you? Coming? Being stupid for me again? Say it, say it for me, baby.”

“I, o- oh, stop, fuuck—!”, you whimper with the way he’s quaking you through and through, but your request gets lost in the sounds of your squirt meeting the floor. You see a lightning bolt strike in front of your eyes, your consciousness sent into the wide space of otherworldly dimensions: all you can hear his San’s stunned gasping once he realises what he’s achieved and him ejaculating the second time because of it, right on the spots he didn’t get the first time round.

“Holy fuck, mom~my,” he coos, finally letting you free, his own tension being relieved as well. San lets himself relax against the couch, taking you right with him on his bare, sweaty chest, your arms rested on his shoulders. “Didn’t know you could do that.”

You’re too busy catching your breath, the once-gone fatigue coming right back, hitting you like a wall. There’s nothing else on your mind rather than to cuddle into San’s arms and get some well-deserved sleep.

“Do you think you could do that on my dick?”, San asks and you can’t bear to answer. You’re lucky that his penis has gone limp, because you know that this man could continue for hours if he wanted to. “I think that just kicked all the booze out of me,” he pants and you know he’s lying by the way he’s continuing to lull. “I’ve made many girls squirt, but that was really something else. Maybe it’s because I never came with them. And I wasn’t even touching myself, can you believe that? You made me cum untouched, fuck…”

San has forgotten your first time.

And yeah, you want to blame it on the alcohol, you don’t know if he’s just mixing things up, whether his memories are hazy because of the months that have passed since the incident— but it’s the only way his surprised face makes sense. Of course people can forget and get confused, it’s just sex and fun after all, but it still feels… disappointing. Like the first time you found out he wasn’t all that “yours” after all, it’s not like he’s breaking any promise, rather than being a moment of “oh, but I thought— well, never-mind”.

“Hey, you can’t sleep now,” San reminds you, “you got my cum on your shirt.”

“I don’t care,” you mumble and rest your temple at his collarbone, stealing a glimpse of what appears to be San being on his phone that has been stashed inside his pants.

“You sure? ‘Cause I’m gonna go,” San smiles.

“Go?”

“Not home! Did I scare you? You clutched me like there’s no tomorrow.”

You bite into his flesh to get him to shut up and he scrunches his nose.

“You make a very comfortable bed…”

“Yeah?” San puts away his phone and installs his arms around your waist, grabbing your ass in the process. “I’m glad.”

Ignoring that your naked privates are touching, you sigh into his skin. Because the taste has already entered your system, he doesn’t smell like alcohol anymore, he smells sugary sweet, the mild scent of his body leading you to further sleep. “Mhm, it’s the best,” you purr thoughtlessly, feeling safe in his hug.

“You’re only nice to me at times like this~,” San remarks with a pout and stands up with ease, carrying you to your bathroom. “You’re always so... gutsy when we have sex. Are you that dominant?”, he rambles silently, putting you down inside the space of the shower. While he talks, he does a little shimmy to instruct you to get your arms up. “You know I don’t mind, but I’m not lying when I ask you to call me stuff. Like nice stuff. Sexy nice stuff. Gets me on~”

“How are you still drunk?”, you ask, too exhausted to take your top off by yourself, letting San pull it off with his hands.

“Why?”, he asks sassily, throwing your shirt inside the clothing bin, quickly rushing to the living room and back to get his own clothing back, explaining: “It’s just something I noticed! Other girls don’t do it like you can! Like, calling me camboy was something, but then you were so mean with it—“

Returning back to the bathroom, he crosses his arms and leans against the shower door.

“If that’s too mean, you must really not like degradation,” you chuckle, sitting naked in front of him. “And you do dirty talk and call me whore.”

“You know that’s different!”, San argues, taking off his socks and grabbing the shower hose behind you. “I at least keep a balance with pet-names, don’t I, darling~?”

“Quite convincing,” you remark, barely perceiving the whole scene.

“Wait, can you—“

“Here you go.”

You stand up and walk back a step so San can have the same amount space inside the shower. You actually have never showered together before, so this one is a first, but who knows whether San is aware of this or not.

You don’t want to be too grim about it.

San turns on the water only to realise that it’s not going to get warm. “This is bad~!”, he pouts. “It’s too cold…”

“Maybe you’ll sober up with the shock?”

Getting some water in his hand, you fear he’s gonna splash it to you, but San only applies it to his arm which doesn’t even need the water by how sweaty it is.

“I dunno if I’ll get it on my hair, I just don’t wanna leave the alcohol stink over your bed~!”

… Sweet, angel boy. Don’t you be so nice to me. You’ll mistake it for something else, if he doesn’t stop.

“Hey, you good over there?”

“You,” you stammer, “you still have lipstick stains on your face.”

“What’s that mean, “still”? Did I come here with lipstick on my face?”

Okay, so maybe he hasn’t tried to get rid of them at all before he came in. Ouch? — Ugh, who cares, let’s get you to bed first. Over-thinking is for tomorrow, you’re fucked out of your mind and San will be tomorrow too, if the alcohol stays this long in his body.

A sigh which turns into a scoff leaves your mouth. “Yes, yes, you did.”

“Do you think it’ll leave a stain?”

“It should go away.”

“Help me~”

San lowers himself a little bit so you have better access to his flushed face and turns the pressure low so you can wet your hands with a little bit of water, before you carefully brush them over his lips which feel hot in the cold liquid.

“Thank you,” he whispers and you stare onto his soft lips as you answer, “no need to.”

“No, I should, like a nice ladies’ man is to do, right?”

San throws an award-winning, a bit loose-eyed smile at you and uncontrollably, you smile back at his dimples. It’s a heart-warming moment, though you fear the warmth is not going to last long. These lips aren’t yours, he’s proving to you that they’re not yours— shit, fuck, damn it— you will probably not get over this for the rest of the night, if you don’t change the topic soon.

“Yeah. You.. ladies’ man.”

“You said that!”

“I did?”

“Well, actually, I don’t know, I think it was “people-pleaser” or something, actually, but I like.. Well, I actually like both!”

“You like being called a ladies’ man and people-pleaser?”

Rubbing his lower lip with your thumb, you question San’s understanding of the words he apparently enjoys to be described as. What a San-thing to do, you smirk to yourself.

“Seonghwa agrees!”

“With what, that they’re good words?”

“No, he said that they describe me pretty well.”

“Ah.”

“Do you agree?”

You inhale sharply and bite your lip, meeting his sunken eyes, a bit droopy from the exhaustion finally hitting your black-haired apprentice as well.

“I,” you start to say, “I don’t know. When I said that, … I meant something else, I think.”

“You think so?”

You know so.

“Because it’s, hm, I don’t know. Nice, isn’t it? The thought of being wanted by two groups? The ladies~ The people~ I’m their man, I’m their pleaser, you know?”

“Yeah, you please ‘em very well. There you go. Praise. Are you happy?”

San nods enthusiastically and hugs you, forgetting that he has ice-cold water running inside his hand, getting your whole back stunned.

“SAN!”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I’m so—!” His eyes are big, but he’s laughing, he’s laughing very loudly, getting the shower off and hugging you again, leaving balmy kisses all over your face. “Sorry, oh my god, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t be laughing, I’m unforgivable!”

Except maybe he is.

When San tugs you in, waiting until you don’t answer his late-night questions of “who invented the camera” and “who was the first live-streamer” to tell himself goodnight and fall asleep immediately, you feel at ease: Disregarding that it took alcohol, will again take alcohol to have moments like these, there’s hope that there is still a little bit of Sannie that you can salvage.

He may not be yours yet, and for what he ensues it will take a damned long time for him to be, but San is here, laying in bed with you, one hand extended out, perfectly formed for your hand to fit in it and oh, how fit in it does.

part three: “the red he leaves is different [i wish it was]”

#ateez smut #ateez x reader #choi san x reader #choi san scenarios #choi san smut #choi san x you #choi san x y/n #haveyourwaywithwordsbemypeoplepleaser #chokkiwa

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diagonal-queen · 1 year

Note

Hi hi uhm, I've been thinking a few days about something... Maybe you can make it into headcanons or a one-shoot? Only if you're comfortable with the idea of course.

Chuuya taking care of his s/o who's struggling to eat properly, eat certain things and cares a lot about the way they look and the way people will talk about them. You can choose more characters if you want (Dazai, Fyodor, etc) or you can just write for Chuu.

Thank you, take your time and take care! ☺️💕

i hope you're going okay my love. i understand this struggle. it's an absolute nightmare and unfortunately at the time this was a big issue for me i didn't really have anybody around. i don't want that for you! if you ever wanna talk about it you can come to me :) i dunno how much help i can be but i'm always here to listen!

Helping to take care of a reader who struggles to eat

♡ pairing: Chuuya Nakahara, Dazai Osamu, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Oda Sakunosuke, Atsushi Nakajima, x gn!Reader

♡ synopsis: These boys help you when you feel self-conscious and find it difficult to eat.

♡ cw: Reader is self-conscious and has trouble eating, mentions of murder (c'mon...this is BSD), swearing, slight implication of NSFW stuff (Dazai strikes again)

note: I put a couple of my comfort characters in here- hopefully their hcs will comfort you too :) I also put your suggested characters in in case you wanted to see 'em. Apologies for errors, hope you enjoy x

Chuuya:

Chuuya has probably had to deal with something similar in Dazai at a time. He understands how you feel and he's totally down to help you

First of all he lets you know that if you crave anything at all, no matter what it is, he'll get some for you. Literally, it could be just crackers or something insanely expensive like caviar he will buy it for you and eat some with you. Anything is better than nothing!

Second he tells you (probably a little aggressively) that the only opinion that matters when it comes to your appearance is YOURS. Fuck all those other people, it's literally none of their business and he's passionate about that. He would probably kill anyone who dares to talk shit about you (let alone to your face? oh man)

He hugs you and lets you know that everything is gonna be alright, and that he'll always be there to support you with things like this no matter what

When he eats, he encourages you to eat alongside him (so it's not as bad y'know, because you're doing it with Chuuya ^-^)

He is very defensive of you in public, like if you don't feel like eating at an event or something he won't force you and if anyone asks or comments on it he snaps at them a little bit lowkey

Chuuya is so encouraging and is always very proud of you whenever you make any progress, like whether you eat a certain amount or if you tell him that you felt attractive that day

Dazai:

Dazai definitely takes it quite seriously. He's mostly worried for your health at first, so his first priority is to get you some food. He does try to get you to eat, but if he fails he knows he can't really force you to eat, so he lets up a little

He's just really worried. Generally because he doesn't want you to get sick but also because of your mental health. Dazai feels as if he has a duty to be there to help you so he does his best

He thanks you for trusting him enough to tell him something like this, and promises to help you in any way you want him to

He will try to make you feel better by complimenting you and just generally lightening the mood

Dazai lets you know that there's no pressure to do so but asks if maybe you could try eating a certain amount a day (like a limit of two meals minimum maybe?) if you're able to? And he's willing to do it with you too if that would make you feel more comfortable

Calls Kunikida and asks him to help him cook you something because he can't cook (lol) and maybe a meal you like would help you? (Kunikida of course agrees to help- for your sake not Dazai's)

Dazai also thinks it's important that he uh...~demonstrates~ the extent of his attraction to you. Y'know, to really help you get the message. He really, really just wants to make sure you understand how much he appreciates and loves you.

Fyodor:

He will also kill people who talk smack about you, but he's like waaaaay scarier about it. Like Chuuya was kind of just exaggerating- he really will do it

Meanwhile, he'd sit you in his lap and comfort you and let you vent and cry to him about your issues as long as you need

He's just a little bit manipulative. Fyodor's method of comforting you about your outward perception is to tell you that his opinion is the only one that matters, and his opinion is that you're very attractive! You don't need to do anything to make him think so

He is probably the most...forceful? when it comes to trying to encourage you to eat. Fyodor would try to convince you to eat by telling you he'll reward you once you do. Maybe he buys you something or takes some time off to spend with you? If you still don't want to, he just doesn't give up. He'll find a way somehow

Fyodor perhaps also enlists the help of SIGMA ONLY because he knows that he's like...very comforting and empathetic and might be able to reassure you about your appearance and relationship with food

He will name all of your features that you consider to be flaws and give you reasons as to why he loves them all very much

Other than Sigma he doesn't bring up the issue with anyone else because he believes it's not his place (he's right tho). If anyone asks he just tells them 'It's a private matter' and nothing more 😌

Oda:

Oda is curious to know what's caused your refusal to eat and self-consciousness. He's curious, but he doesn't ask you any questions.

He simply cooks you an easily digestible meal and sits you down on the couch, gently telling you that he's willing to feed you as much or as little as you want to take

You ask him why he's done this for you, and his reply is a mere 'I care about you.' You can't really say no to that, so you do take a bite or two. Oda doesn't force you to eat anything else, whenever you're done he knows you're done

This goes on for some time- if your issue fluctuates from time to time he's always ready to cook you something and feed you. Though at times where you don't wanna eat he doesn't ever force you to do it.

More importantly he's willing to spend as much time as it takes to reassure you that he thinks you're beautiful and attractive just as you are, regardless of appearance. Though he isn't a man of like, too many words, he shows his love for you very clearly.

If you ever feel like you're a burden to Oda because of this stuff he does he immediately lets you know that that couldn't be any LESS true. He doesn't see it that way at all- he just loves you and wants to help you of his own volition

Is very comforting and whenever you bring it up with him you know that you've made the right decision to trust him with your issue

Atsushi:

Atsushi cares so much about you. He's heartbroken to know that you don't see yourself the same way he does.

Atsushi is a big eater and he's not extremely insecure when it comes to his physical appearance specifically, so he's a little confused about why you feel the way you do. Nonetheless he does his very best to sympathise with you and comfort you

He always offers to share his food with you from then on, even if it's just a little he's very happy when you accept it. He only gives you food he thinks you'll enjoy though because he's a sweetie

He's always been a big praise man but he just doubles it now that he knows you're self conscious. He just wants you to know how much you mean to him and how lovely you are in his eyes.

Asks Yosano for help T-T he just wants to make sure you're healthy. You might get a check in from her from time to time. She is a very helpful person to talk to about this though, good call Atsushi

Atsushi tells you that if anyone bothers you that he'll be there to take care of them for you. He'd usually be able to talk it out but he's not afraid to get just a teensy tiny bit violent if the other person doesn't back down.

To be honest he might just start eating bigger portions himself to make you feel more comfortable with the amount of food you eat to make it seem like less than it is (hE'S TRYING HIS BEST)

ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ me omw to cuddle @sunasjellyfruit and everybody else who reads this

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keys-hellscape-1020 · 11 months

Text

Gaz Headcannons

Damn y’all, sorry for disappearing for six months. I’ve been in and out of the mental hospital like a yo-yo, so uh, have some headcannons to make up for it ig.

SFW

Tw: Cursing, brief mentions of violence, (very brief) sexual themes.

I picture him as a night owl, but that doesn’t mean he likes sleeping in super late. He likes some structure in his day (a side-effect of being in the military) and if he’s not out of bed by 9 he starts to feel guilty, like he’s wasting the day.

Despite me saying he’s a night owl, he’s not truly a night owl so much as he just gets so absorbed in what he’s doing he looses track of time and next thing he knows it’s 2am.

From an outside perspective it would be easy to assume he has more trauma than the rest of the 141- but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. He probably has the same amount for the most part, he’s just the only one who handles it in a healthy way. He’ll reach out for help if he needs it, has a therapist he sees regularly, and takes a low-dose of anti-anxiety medication (I want to say Zoloft cause that’s what I’m on lol). All said, he’s the only one who actually acknowledges it and doesn’t pretend it’s not there.

This man definitely games. He might play a first person shooter here and there, but honestly I don’t think he’d like them, they remind him to much of work and in his free time that’s the last thing he wants to be reminded of. I can see him playing Stardew Valley, Animal Crossing, and Graveyard Keeper (it’s not well known but it’s SO good). The grim themes while still managing to be a cozy game really appeal to him.

His perfect date is you two ordering take-out and eating it on the couch while you play games together. He just absolutely adores being in your presence.

Despite this, quality time is not his main love language (although it is a close second). His first is words of affirmation. He loves how you get flushed and turn away from him when he compliments you out of nowhere. Literally you could just be in the same room, not even interacting, and this man would out of nowhere be like “You’re so fucking gorgeous. It’s a miracle I don’t drop to my knees every time you enter a room.” And then just causally go back to what he was doing.

On that note! This man is so into body worship. Just let him kiss, and lick, and suck, on you to his heart’s content and you will have one happy Gaz.

Also he just adores showing you off. He likes staying home sure, but he also likes taking you out on date nights and flaunting you (respectfully). He’s just so very proud to be in a relationship with you.

On the theme of bars, if someone gets close to you or touches you without your permission, this man is watching. He won’t say or do anything, he’ll just silently watch the person’s behavior. His years in the military have made him very good at reading people.

If he sees that they’re getting closer than you want, or otherwise making you uncomfortable, he’ll suddenly get very close to you. He won’t outright say anything, he knows you can handle yourself, but he’ll rest a hand on your shoulder. Both telling you that he’s there if you need him, and the creep to watch themselves.

If they back off without him having to intervene, great, you both can go back to enjoying yourselves, if he does need to get involved gods help the person his aggression is aimed towards.

He’ll take a few steps towards them, subtly growling (you know that one scene with price? Yeah that). He’ll tell them to back off, that you’re obviously not enjoying the conversation. If words don’t work, he won’t hesitate to resort to a fist fight. He won’t land the first hit however, he knows better. He might not be as physically strong as Ghost or Price, but this man has technique, and his opponent is knocked out in an heartbeat.

After that he is all over you, asking you if you’re alright, if you want to go home, etc. Whatever you need or want will be provided. He isn’t feeling jealous in that moment, just concerned. He wants to make sure you’re okay more than anything. After the fact, when he thinks back on it, he may feel a spark of jealousy, but it’s nothing he can’t quickly and easily reason away. After all, he trusts you completely.

NSFW

Tw: Body worship, nipple play (but no mention of breasts), biting, mentions of BDSM (in general), choking, slapping, Praise kink, minor degradation, quickies, aftercare

As mentioned earlier this man is the king, of body worship. He’ll work you up slowly, sensually. Kissing, licking, and teasing every inch of you before he even thinks of touching in-between your legs.

Your nipples will be sore by the time this man is done with them. He’s just enthralled by them, watching them get hard at he pinches and bites.

Speaking of bites, it’s not just your nipples. Afterwards you’ll find plenty of dark bite marks on your chest, neck, waist, and inner thighs. The feeling of your flesh under his teeth is just… exquisite.

Yes this man may be a tad bit… nippy, but he isn’t into anything that would truly hurt you. The farthest he would go would be choking you (after a long conversation and plenty of research), or a quick slap or two to your ass.

He also mixes degradation and praise together beautifully. Things like “such a beautiful little slut for me.” And “Damn, you’re such a good little whore.” He’ll sprinkle in a healthy bit of praise to. His main priority is your pleasure after all. <3

While he isn’t opposed to aspects of BDSM, I can’t see him being interested in the strict dynamics side of it, at all. Yeah sure he enjoys doming and subbing but I can’t see him wanting to bring them outside of the bedroom. And even in the bedroom, there’s no strict rules. He just wants to have fun with it, and he wants you to as well.

He isn’t opposed to quickies. He doesn’t partake in them often as I see him having a sex drive that is average to low. But if you both need to be somewhere soon and you just have to have him? He’ll get on his knees and make sure that yours are wobbling as you walk out to the car. Don’t worry about him darling, you can make it up to him later. Like I said, your pleasure is his priority.

When all is said and done this man takes very good care of you. He’ll insist on a shower or bath together (depending on if you can stand or not). He seriously enjoys taking a bath with you afterwards though. He’ll run a bath that is steaming hot, “To relax your muscles” he says. He’ll also add some lavender and sandalwood oil to the water, to relax and ground you.

He’ll take such good care of you. If your hair needs washed he’ll give you the best scalp massage you’ve ever had. If it doesn’t (or you just don’t want him to) he’ll put it in a remarkably neat bun on the top of your head so it doesn’t get wet. And if you don’t have a lot of hair/no hair? You’ll still get a scalp massage. It doesn’t matter how little hair you have, this man is rubbing shampoo into your scalp claiming “It helps keep you clean!” Just let him take care of you please.

After he’s dealt with your hair he’ll lather up a rag with a generous amount of soap and take his time gently cleaning off every part of you. He won’t ask you to, but his heart will melt if you return the favor and wash his body clean.

After you both are clean he’ll take his time drying you off with the fluffiest towel he can find. This man knows your skincare routine by heart and WILL make sure every step gets done in the correct order. Once you’re all clean and dry he gives you some of his clothes to wear. And you know this man wears oversized clothes when he’s off duty for the sole purpose of making sure they fit you.

If you’re hungry he’ll order your favorite take-out, if your not he’ll still insist you eat a granola bar and drink some water. You burned a lot of calories and sweat a lot! You need fuel!

If you’re somehow still awake after all this he’ll gently pick you up and bring and you to bed. Falling asleep in this man’s arms is a dream come true. <3

A/N: I’ve never written any kind of smut before, so constructive criticism is very welcome. I got kinda out of control with the aftercare part. I had to stop myself. Plz let me know if you enjoyed!!

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redcoralpot · 1 year

Text

Acula! - Daryl Dixon x M! Reader

Word count: 4.6K

Status: Request

I gave up near the end lol 😵‍💫 As always, English is not my first language so please excuse any mistakes <33

Your pen softly glided over the paper on your desk, complimenting the constant tics of a clock. The house was peaceful and undisturbed.

However, something seemed to put you on edge. It was just a feeling, everything was painstakingly ordinary. Nothing lately stood out to you; nothing served as the inspiration you craved so desperately. Groaning, you put your pen aside. The paper in front of you held no leads or meaning. Mindless scribbles, for lack of better words.

Idly, your mind wandered to Otis. The man had yet to return from his hunting trip, which was unusual. That had to be the most interesting thing to happen since the outbreak and must be why you were feeling so irritable. Nonetheless, you were sure the man was completely fine.

The pit in your stomach didn’t agree. In fact, it only got larger as the faint sound of shouting caught your attention. Crumpling the paper, you practically tripped over yourself sprinting outside.

The very first thing that caught your eye was the color red. A lot of it. Soaking the stranger’s shirt, soaking the child in the stranger’s arms, and dripping onto the dirt under their feet. The shouting melted into patchy warbling and you could barely feel it when a body roughly pushed itself past you to take a firm hold on the child.

That body was none other than Hershel’s, and just as quickly, the world sped up again. You followed the stranger and your panicking family back inside, instinctively following every order your father barked out. Rushing to get water from the farm well, you almost missed Otis stumbling his way into the house.

Back and forth, back and forth until you could see the sun starting to set. Your muscles ache and your ears ring as you finally allow yourself to sit down. It wasn’t over yet.

“You shot him?”

“I was trackin’ a deer and the bullet went straight through it! I hadn’t even seen the boy until he was on the floor!” Otis exclaimed defensively.

The room exploded into hushed chatter and your temples throbbed in response. The original two men that had carried the injured child to the farm property were supposedly part of a bigger group and Maggie had been sent to retrieve one of them. From what you could see now, she had brought back the mother of the kid.

Said mother took a threatening step towards Otis, “You’re an idiot—!”

Hershel stepped in between them, promptly breaking up the scrabble, giving a stern glance. Instead of staying inside the crowded room any longer, you decided to step out to make your way back to your room. The commotion was quickly making you feel trapped and unable to breathe. Here, you could still hear the louder comments, just muffled. You couldn’t help anyone while this anxious, even though you wanted to.

When morning comes, you’ll surely give Otis a good talk with Hershel.

Silently, you massaged your palms. You could still feel the imprint of the bucket handle on one. That is when you were hit with what you were doing. What did you mean, not being able to help right now? You could help just fine!

Marching outside with your bucket in hand, you were fueled by confidence. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught movement in the distance, probably some birds. You were going to bring back plenty of water for the new patients.

You knew that there was more to the strangers’ group and wondered when they would arrive. If at all, but you knew Maggie had alerted them. Why would they abandon their teammates with total strangers? Would they be aggressive?

Finding comfort in the distracting sting of your raw hands, you headed back once again with another bucket of water. The farm’s blue car was gone and you were met only with solemn faces.

“What’d I miss?” You pant, placing the bucket by the shaking father’s feet.

Hershel made a slight gesture towards the small body on the bed, “We lack the needed medical supplies for the surgery this young boy needs.”

You could hear Patricia let out a sob in the hallway.

“Otis and Mr. Walsh bravely volunteered to retrieve them,” He continued, “at the high school.”

Your eyes flicked back to the shaking father, “Huh, when’ll they be back?”

“Hopefully in the next two hours, we can’t afford to wait any longer than that.”

“Will the kid be okay if you don’t get the supplies and still go through with the surgery?”

The looming silence was an answer enough. Otis and the other man had yet to return and the pit in your stomach had yet to leave. The boy on the bed was ghostly pale; you could see the sheen of sweat coating his skin from where you crouched. The scent of sorrow clung thickly to everyone in the room and you wondered if it would ever leave. All anyone here could do was wait.

—

The ticking of the clock became absolutely unbearable. Otis and Mr. Walsh had yet to return, and you knew time was running faster than them.

The father of the child, who’s name you learned was Rick, could barely stand. That certainly didn’t deter him from trying to follow the volunteers to the highschool multiple times. Hershel and the man’s wife, Lori, had to remind him several times that he just gave up dangerous levels of blood and that he would faint before he could even get out the door.

You could understand his desperation. The boy’s face was somehow even paler than before and you could tell that if the volunteers didn’t turn up soon, he would slip away. You half-expected to see the grim reaper tonight.

Just as you were about to give up hope, you picked up the faint sound of an engine. Everyone was on their feet in an instant, scrambling to see the volunteers. Only the man you assumed was Mr. Walsh stepped out of the car.

Hershel gave him a concerned look, “Where’s Otis?”

Mr. Walsh hesitated, looking a little sick, “Otis didn’t make it.”

Even with only a few seconds of silence, you could feel the sorrowful energy deepen tremendously.

“Should we tell Patricia?” you mumbled.

“Not yet,” Hershel grunted, “we need everyone on-hand for the surgery. It can wait.”

Mr. Walsh nodded hurriedly, pushing past everyone else. The rest followed, running about in preparation. You massaged your hands and headed out with your bucket.

That way, you couldn’t hear the screams coming from that poor child. You wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Regardless of your efforts, the surgery went on for what felt like hours. The child lost even more blood, but in the end it was successful. You were glad, however your heart proved heavy when you heard Patricia’s shaking sobs in another room.

You felt horribly guilty as you plopped down on your bed. Maybe if you had gone as well, Otis would still be alive. Glancing at the long forgotten paper, you couldn’t help but think about the new bald spot on Mr. Walsh’s hair.

You got up early the next day and wandered into the kitchen. Today would be Otis’ funeral, you knew. He had died honorably, always a kind soul. The pit in your stomach deepened at the thought of it again. Something just didn’t feel right about it, but you had no reason to think so. It had to be your nerves from last night, right? Yeah.

Heavy footsteps approached, ones you certainly didn’t recognize. Your hand flew to the knife in your pocket and you turned your head towards the kitchen’s door. A tanned, large hand came first. A muscular arm came next, followed by a grouchy face.

For a few moments, neither of you moved. As you were studying him, he was studying you. The man was tall, taller than you, if only slightly. Stronger than you, maybe. You could see the exact moment when his eyes landed on where your hand was hovering and his jaw visibly clenched.

So, that moment passed, and you both blurted out, “Who the fuck are you?”

“I live here,” you hissed.

He scoffed, “Didn’t answer my question.”

You dropped your hand in favor of standing up, “Just a resident. Rick’s group, right?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“I haven’t had a chance to meet most of you.”

Cracking your knuckles, you held your left hand out. The redneck stared at it blankly for a moment before his expression cleared. Roughly, he grabbed your hand and shook it. His skin was unsurprisingly tough and dry.

“The name’s Daryl,” he finally supplied.

You gave a firm nod, “I like that name.”

Both hands dropped and you shrugged, “Well, it was nice meeting you. My rest time’s up.”

You lightly kicked your chair back in position, sauntering out the second door. It was fair to say you left an impression, as you could feel a gaze burning the back of your neck.

You joined Maggie near the chicken coop and snatched a nearby basket. Hearing you come in, she turned towards you.

“‘Morning,” she murmured.

“G’morning,” you replied, “I met one of the newcomers.”

She raised an eyebrow, “Which one?”

“Tall, grouchy, and a redneck? Said his name was Daryl?”

“I think I saw him last night, he didn’t seem friendly.”

“Do you trust him?”

“I think you know the answer to that.”

You bit your cheek, “I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“You’ve only met him, right?” Maggie guessed.

You nodded. Maggie rubbed an egg with her thumb, a thoughtful expression on her face.

She finally released, “It’d help us all if everyone met officially before the funeral.”

“I suppose,” you shrugged.

You both stepped out of the coop with full baskets, making your way back into the house. Everyone was awake now, with the exception of Carl. Despite that, the farm was seized by silence. Daryl was sitting with others of his group, more notably Mr. Walsh.

However, there was something different about Mr. Walsh this morning. It was one of the first things you noticed walking in. All of his hair had been messily shaved off and the hairless style was made complete with a baseball cap. Strange, wasn’t it?

Maggie made a point to sit down in a chair and you decided to do the same. There were several new, grim faces in the room.

You decided to speak up first, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet all of you.”

The room was silent except for a few hums of agreement, and you cleared your throat, “I’ve heard a few things about you, all good.”

Mr. Walsh stood up first, reaching out a hand, “Shane Walsh.”

You stood up and shaked his hand with a tight smile. This man made your stomach flip with sick anxiety. The awkward introductions continued until no one was left unknown, and Hershel made a point to sweep into the room at that moment.

“Gather outside,” he gruffly ordered.

The world outside was a direct contrast to the mood of the people living in it. Sunlight filtered a cheery green through the leaves of a residing tree and the temperature was slowly rising. A cart full of stones was set down by a few of the other refugees.

Everyone gathered into a half circle, leaving Hershel to stand in front of them. Bible in hand, he cleared his throat.

“Blessed be God. A dear friend of ours has passed with honor and bravery. He was kind, loyal, and generous to the end. Otis sacrificed his life for a younger one; may he rest in God’s hands with great dignity. He died as he lived, in grace.

Shane, will you speak for Otis?”

The group all had placed a few stones on Otis’ gravesite. Everyone except for Shane.

“I’m not very good at these types of things,” he mentioned when Hershel approached him.

“You were with him in his final moments,” Patricia sobbed.

Shane sighed, seeing no way out of this. His eyes seemed panicked.

His voice was scratchy as he spoke, “We were about done, running out of ammo. I was limping, it was bad. It was a mighty sacrifice he made, and it wasn’t in vain.”

You could see Patricia’s bottom lip tremble from your spot beside Maggie, the lack of noise making the wound deeper. Softly glancing around, you could see a similar look of distant horror on the faces of everyone around you. Shane limped towards the makeshift grave, placing the final stone on top.

“He saved us both,” Shane finished.

Patricia nodded, her face red with held-in tears.

The farm’s residents were still in mourning, but you were rather curious about the newcomers. The day had swung in with boiling heat, and some of the new men were gathered around a map outside. Everyone else stayed inside. You joined their group, staring questionably at the piece of paper they were studying.

You frowned, “What’s this about?”

“Lil’ missing girl, Sophia,” one of them murmured.

Rick pointed to an area on the map, “She could’ve gone down here.”

“I’ll help search,” you added, “if you need me.”

You could feel eyes on you, but yours stayed locked on the map, “Are we going in pairs?”

“I’m sure Daryl wouldn’t mind you helping him, right?” Rick gave a stern look to the rugged man beside him.

Daryl clicked his tongue, begrudgingly throwing out a rough, “Yeah, yeah.”

You grinned, “Great! Now, where were we?”

When everything was planned, you downed a glass of water and headed out with Daryl. The walk across the field was awkwardly silent, and neither of you seemed to trust the other. You didn’t know much of what to expect from him.

There was a shuffling noise as he hoisted his crossbow over his shoulder. The afternoon sun made you both glisten with sweat and you stole small glances at the other as you walked.

You had gotten so used to the silence that you practically jumped out of your skin when he suddenly said, “So, are ya just gonna keep starin’ at me or what?”

Your throat suddenly felt dry, “What of it? I haven’t seen a person like you in a while.”

“A person like me, huh?”

“A guy with your style, not since before the breakout.” You gestured towards him with your hands.

“Huh,” is all that Daryl offered in response.

While you didn’t discover anything related to the missing girl, you did find out more about the past strangers. You were still wary of them, as they were to you, but you could find yourself drawn to them more everyday. Carol was the mother of Sophia and she was getting more restless as time went on.

You could understand, as you were as well. You had never even met this girl, but you were sparing time every night to pray for her safe return. Carl, on the other hand, was up and running again. He was a curious little boy, very interested in the world around him.

When you and the other men were planning another search round, Carl had been listening intently. However, the boy was strictly prohibited from tagging along or using guns.

You got on one knee, facing him, “Don’t worry about it, we’ll bring your friend back safe and sound.”

Out of the corner of your eye, could you see Daryl nod and Shane scoff. Though, your reassurances seemed to convince Carl for the time being, and he ran off. You exhaled, standing up again.

“I’ll be taking a nap,” you stated.

With that, you started on your journey back to the house, rubbing your temples. The heat was not helping the cause. You collapsed on the bed, thinking about how much Shane annoyed you.

You tossed and turned, but to no avail. The weight of Sophia was heavy on your mind, preventing you from sleeping. You didn’t know how long it had been since you’d first laid down, but it was still light outside. You kicked off the covers and stretched, buttoning up your shirt and shoes. Making your way back outside, the previous group of men had dispersed. They were sprinkled around the property, from what you could tell. Only Daryl was nowhere to be found.

“Hey, Carol,” you called, jogging over to where she was sitting under a tree, “where’s Daryl?”

“Daryl? I saw him taking one of Hershel’s horses to start another search,” she said.

“Alone?”

“I didn’t see anyone else with him, no.”

“Shit,” you gasp.

“Did something happen?” Carol’s voice tipped up in concern.

“Nothing that I know of, but it’s fucking dangerous for him to do that alone!”

Did he have a death wish? You knew he was reckless, but damn did it seem like it. Without giving Carol time to answer, you start sprinting towards the forest. It was where the group was planning to search earlier, you remember. Leaves and thin branches whipped your skin as you ran further inside.

You stopped abruptly. Flashes of white danced a few feet away, forming into a very panicked and very big horse. A panicked horse with an empty saddle. The saddle had embroidery on it, specifically the type you recognized to be on all of the farm’s saddles.

Slowly approaching it, you took a hold on its reins. You spent a few slow minutes attempting to calm it down, eventually succeeding in what felt like forever. Taking out a rope, you tied the horse to a thick tree. You cracked your knuckles and stepped back. What did you see Daryl doing when you were running searches together?

That’s right! You squatted, reviewing your surroundings. The wildlife seemed to have been demolished by something, definitely not small. The trail leads to a steep slope downwards, a trail of equally squashed plants following it.

You huffed, grinning, “I’ve got you now, Daryl.”

Carefully, you slid down the hill, keeping your eyes on the trail. A creek was rapidly approaching, and you tumbled out onto the shore. To your surprise, Daryl was nowhere to be found. Instead, you found disturbed dirt, blood, and fallen zombies.

Where the zombies’ ears should be, ripped flesh and blood was smeared. They had suffered head injuries and showed no signs of getting up again. You glanced around, your hand instinctively gripping your knife.

“What the fuck?” you whispered.

Whoever had done this had struggled. The sand was thrashed around and the trail of smashed plants continued forwards. Carefully stepping around the zombies, you went on your way, faster. This seemed like Daryl’s doing, and even if it wasn’t, he could be in serious danger.

You yelled, “Daryl?”

You never expected a response and none ever came. Except you thought you heard a quiet groan. Stopping your rampage, you silenced your breathing and stood still. Could it be a zombie? Daryl? Daryl as a zombie?

Nothing attacked you, but you heard another groan, this time louder. You creeped forward, pushing past a bush. Bruised, dirty, and tanned skin came into view and you almost fainted in relief. The man was mumbling quiet nonsense; the only thing you could catch was a name. Merle.

Now that you had a better view of him, you could see that he was making a struggling attempt to climb up the hill. He had only made it halfway up by the time you found him, it seems. Sighing, you put a firm foot down and started to climb after him. Since you weren’t in an injured daze, you caught up with him in a matter of minutes, putting a steadying hand on his shoulder.

Daryl flinched, his face whipping to look at you. Though, his eyes didn’t see you. They were distant and glazed over, surely a fever. You circled an arm around his waist, pulling him up with you as you climbed.

“Merle?” Daryl squinted at you.

Who was Merle? A friend? This person wasn’t in his group, you knew. Well, that was something to ponder over later. For now, Daryl needed you. The man was starting to struggle in your arms, albeit weakly. It was slowing you down.

“Let me go, I ain’t a sissy,” he spit, “I don’t need your help!”

That only made you grip him tighter. In one final push, you hoisted him over the edge and struggled onto it yourself. Holy shit, you’d be sore in the morning. Chest heaving, you peered over to Daryl. He was sluggishly trying to get up, and there were weird shapes on his usual necklace. Squinting, you could make out that they were ears.

So that’s where they went. Huh.

Reaching out, you tugged the necklace off and threw it in the woods for the wildlife to eat away. Next, you grabbed him and leaned most of his body weight on you. Now, you are ready to resume the mission. Dragging him up, you walked one step at a time. One arm of his was thrown over your shoulder, and the other was grasping his side. To no avail, however, you could see crimson blood dripping from in between his fingers. The smell was even stronger.

“Stop fucking yourself over, Dixon,” you gasp.

With sticks cracking under your feet, the two of you manage to stumble out of the forest and into the clearing. Without the trees blocking it, the fresh wind blew in your face and the smell of sweat almost went away with it. Almost.

The sun beat down on your figures and that made those desert scenes in movies seem like child’s play. It was bright, blinding you to the point that you could only see the silhouette of the house. So much so that you couldn’t see the gun pointed at you from across the field.

You could make out shouting and a small group running towards you. To help, you hoped. You could only carry the other for so long. They got closer and you recognized the three men. They were all part of Daryl’s group; Rick, T-Dog, and Shane. All wore worried expressions and reached out to lend a hand.

That is, before a loud shot was the only warning you got before a weight was pulling you backwards and onto the hard ground. You could hear a shout of pain escape the man you were still holding onto.

“What the fuck,” someone hissed, and your world collapsed into chaos again.

Rough hands pulled you up, “Get up, man!”

The same hands, belonging to T-Dog, supported you. Quickly getting your bearings, you whipped around to check on Daryl. Rick and Shane were dragging him ahead of you, yelling for the shooter to stand down. That there were no walkers around, as they liked to call them. T-Dog dropped his hands and ran off after them, leaving you to stumble behind.

Your foot tapped angrily on the floor, “What do you mean, she thought we were one of those things?”

“I know, but she was on orders not to shoot. We have absolutely no intentions to harm you, you have my word,” Rick sighed.

“So she almost killed not only Daryl, but me, ‘cause she wanted to make a point?”

The leader’s face turned grim and you rubbed your temples. Standing up, you sulked towards the tent where Daryl was staying while he healed. He deserved an apology from you. You tapped the flap over the entrance lightly to let him know you were coming in. Sliding your body in, you were met with an unimpressed expression.

“Hey,” you murmured, “how’s it going?”

He grunted, “What d’ya think?”

“Yeah, I get it. Look, I’m sorry for what happened.”

“It ain’t your fault I got shot.”

“I didn’t go with you.”

“And I didn’t wait for you, so it ain’t your fault.”

You huffed, you weren’t there to argue, “Alright, you win. Are you feeling any better, at least?”

“A bit.”

“I’m glad.”

He didn’t respond and an awkward silence ensued. Finally, to cut that in half, you asked about something that has been stuck in your mind ever since you found him.

“You know, you were hallucinating badly when I found you.”

“Yeah? What ‘bout it?”

“You mentioned someone named Merle. Who’s that?”

“Just someone. Not important.”

Seeing his unwillingness, you decided it wasn’t good to push, “Alright.”

Carefully, you took the gift you brought for him out of your pocket. Nothing fancy, just a simple compass. You set it down near where his hands rested, letting a small smile take over your face.

“I hope you feel better soon.”

With that, you left, before Daryl could say anything in response. You knew he was a tracker, therefore the gift was practically useless, but gifts can be more than usefulness. Spending time in his company made your mood instantly brighten despite the other’s closed-off attitude. Even Maggie stopped what she was doing to ask what made you so cheery right after almost getting shot in the head.

You shrugged and continued on your way.

Sophia was dead. Well, it’s complicated. That little girl everyone had been searching for had been turned into one of those sick people. Or as the outsiders called them, walkers.

Your ears rang as you took in the scene before you. The bodies of the walkers were practically piled on top of one another, unmoving. The little girl had been the last to come out, stumbling with a nasty bite on the shoulder. Even from your spot, you could see Rick’s arms shake as he stared at the bloody body lying in front of him. The only thing you could hear were soft pants and weeping.

You sprinted over to Carol, one of the perpetrators, kneeling beside her. You didn’t need to see the face that matched the arms holding her, you just wanted to focus on her. After all, Sophia’s death had to be the hardest on her. The woman was struggling to breathe through her sobs.

“Carol, you need to breathe,” you comment.

She responded, but only God could make out what she said. You took her hand, feeling the body above both of you start to crouch down. Glancing up, you could see that the eyes of the man were cloudy and distant. Such a look that you’ve never witnessed before on Daryl; it made you want to hold his hand too. You would need to check on him soon.

You gently rubbed Carol’s knuckles as she shook her head, “I understand, but it’s important to breathe.

Do it with me— inhale, 1, 2, 3, exhale, 1, 2, 3!”

As you hoped, Carol followed. When the occasional sob broke the pattern, you would pause to offer reassuring touches on her hand before continuing. She was doing well and you couldn’t be prouder.

Everyone else in the area blurred away; they weren’t important. Your heart was tight as you still knelt in the dirt, it was simply the three of you. The chest beside you was following just as much as the other, and the sound of breathing slowed time. It pitied the group.

Eventually, Carol calmed down enough to talk. You and Daryl watched reluctantly as Lori led her back to the house. After the two became but a speck, you turned to study the other man. His rigid figure mimicked you, still distant. Almost as if testing new waters, you reached out your own to grab his hand, finding the need to comfort him.

All at once, it seemed like his whole character was zapped into his existence. His eyes snapped into a wild light and he froze for a few little seconds. As soon as that passed, he hurriedly shook off your hand and stalked away, huffing. You chose to believe he could feel your eyes on his back.

“Hey, we need your help over here,” a voice called out.

Disturbing a strand of hair with a puff of air, you snapped your attention to the rest of the group. Daryl would have to wait. —

Pt 2 in the future??

#daryl dixon #male reader #the walking dead #twd #x male reader #transgender #gay #lgbtq #rick grimes #carl grimes #shane walsh #maggie greene #carol twd #daryl dixon x male reader #daryl dixon x reader #x reader #male y/n #x y/n

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