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daisynik7 · 7 months

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imma hit you with a twofer: extra smooth by aaliyah with geto...and gimme more by brittany spears with kishibe

Extra Smooth

Pairing: Suguru Geto x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~3.0k

cw: next-door neighbor Geto who is kind of an asshole, shy reader, smut – PIV sex (doggy style), cunnilingus, sex without a condom, sex toy use

Summary: Your next-door neighbor is loud, inconsiderate, and unfortunately, very hot. No matter how many times you bang on his door with another new noise complaint, he’ll continue to repeat his offenses nearly every weekend. You’re too timid to submit a formal complaint to the landlord, so you shrug it off, hoping that one day, he’ll suddenly become nice. That day comes sooner than you think, when he unexpectedly makes a visit to your apartment, discovering the real reason you need your peace and quiet.

Author’s Note: @demonwoman Mephisto! I LOVE this song and Aaliyah, honestly this was so perfect for Geto. Thank you for requesting a two-fer for the y2k karaoke party! I’ll post the Kishibe one soon. Had a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you have just as much fun reading it! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciating, thank you for reading! MDNI divider by @/cafekitsune.

part 1 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series

Even with your headphones in, music on high, you can still hear the loud bass reverberating through the shared wall of your apartment. You remove one of the buds in your ear to press it to the plaster, listening carefully to your neighbor having another party next door. Rolling your eyes, you save the document on your screen before shutting your laptop closed, quickly putting on a pair of mismatched sweatpants and sweater. This isn’t the first time you’ve had to go over to Suguru Geto’s apartment to ask him to lower the volume. You did it last weekend, and the one before that, even twice last month. It isn’t fun for you to be that person, but the intense bass that rattles your bedroom walls really is distracting. You thought that after the first two times you complained, he would be more conscious of it. Nope, still noisy and obnoxious as ever. The problem is you’re too chicken shit to make a formal complaint to your landlord. Of course he isn’t taking it seriously, not from his timid, home-body neighbor next door. Why should he when it’s only you that it’s bothering?

You slide into your fuzzy slippers and make your way out into the hallway, closing the door shut behind you. A few steps and you’re in front of Geto’s, knocking three times. You can hear people chatting and laughing from inside, not responding. You wait another couple of seconds before forcefully pounding on the door with your fist, finally getting a reaction. The chatter hushes and soon, he reveals himself, answering the door with a tight grin on his face, clearly annoyed. “What can I do for you, neighbor?” he grits through his teeth, still maintaining a forced smile.

You cross your arms over your chest, suddenly insecure in his presence. There’s no denying it; he’s an attractive man, tall and lean beneath tight-fitting clothes. Long, black hair drapes down his back, a portion of it wrapped in a loose bun, loose strands falling before his handsome face. And sure, maybe sometimes he crosses your mind while you’re in your bedroom, playing with the toys you have currently hidden away in your nightstand. But that’s as far as it goes: fantasy. In reality, your next-door neighbor is an asshole.

“Could you please lower the volume of your music? It’s really loud.” You decide not to bring up the other incidents from the past, not wanting to aggravate the situation any further.

He grins at you, disingenuous, definitely irritated, but trying not to show it. “Sure. I can do that. Anything else?”

You shake your head, muttering a quiet, “Thanks.” You glance at the people inside, who stare at you, snickering to each other.

“Nice slippers, by the way,” he taunts, before slamming the door shut. There’s an uproar of laughter from inside, and you retreat back into your home, irked by his attitude. It’s not that hard to be considerate of others, right? So why is he making this so much more difficult than it needs to, making you feel like the asshole? You shake it off, trying not to let it bother you. He actually does lower the volume, so you’re satisfied, despite the unnecessary insults you hear from the other side. God she’s so lame. She’s home alone on a Friday night, what do you expect?

With another roll of your eyes, you open your laptop, resuming where you left off. Your fingers type away at the keys fluidly, your concentration regained, hating yourself a little bit for what you’re about to type, especially after what just happened:

Yeah, you want this cock, don’t you?

Been hungry for it this entire time, huh?

[clothing rustling]

Well, go ahead. Come get it. Use me like you’ve always wanted to.

[spits into hand, starts stroking his cock]

I’ll be a good neighbor to you from now on. The very best.

~~~

You finish the script past midnight, falling asleep before you get a chance to proofread and edit it. There’s no title yet, though you have a vague idea of what you want it to be. Saturdays, you’re usually out with friends throughout the day, so you decide to finish the rest of it once you’re back home from dinner tonight. Before you leave, you type a quick title at the top of the page: [M4F] Your Hot Asshole Neighbor Finally Decides to Be Nice to You.

This isn’t the first script you’ve written. Last month, you tried your hand at it and it got picked by one of your favorite nsfw voice actors. The thrill of hearing their deep voice moaning the words you wrote motivated you enough to work on another. The commission payment is an added bonus. With your full-time job occupying your week, weekends are the only free time you have to write, especially Friday nights. That’s why you need your concentration; and that’s why Geto’s loud music bothers you so much. You can’t completely hate him, though. After all, he’s the inspiration behind this latest piece, though you will never admit that to him. Ever. In fact, this entire gig you’re doing is a secret only for you to harbor. Not even your closest friends are aware that you’re doing this as a hobby.

The document sits temporarily forgotten on your laptop while you galivant with your besties throughout the day. After a delicious dinner together, they drop you off to your apartment, where pour yourself a glass of white wine to sip on in your pajamas while you edit your naughty script at the dining table.

You’ve read it twice through, starting from the top for a third review when there’s a knock on your door. You check your phone, searching for a text from a friend who might be stopping by, but you see none. Confused, you tip toe in your fuzzy slippers to look through the peephole, surprised to see Geto standing on the other side.

You open the door, greeting him hesitantly. “Um, hi.”

He nods, hands in his pockets, giving you a quick scan before speaking. “Hey. I, uh, locked myself out. The landlord isn’t going to be back until an hour or so and I’m too cheap to call a locksmith right now. Is it cool if I just hang out in here while I wait?”

You consider this carefully, still in disbelief that this happening. You can’t just kick him to the curb and refuse, especially when it’ll only be for a short while. Deciding to let bygones be bygones, you agree to help him, opening the door wider to let him through.

“Thank you,” he mutters, stepping inside. “Do you want me to take my shoes off?”

“Yes. I think I have some slippers for you. I’ll be right back.” You rush to your bedroom, searching for a pair of slides that he can use in the meantime. It takes a while to find them, buried under a pile of junk in your closet. Before you head out to meet him, you quickly put a bra on, acutely aware that he might have caught sight of your nipples peeking through the thin layer of your shirt. It doesn’t matter, though; he doesn’t think of you in like that anyways. You’re just his lame, lonely neighbor next door, right?

You return, looking towards the couch, expecting to see him sitting there. To your horror, you catch him at the dining table, seated where you previously were before he arrived, staring at your laptop screen.

“Hey!” You hustle towards him, slamming it shut with enough force to rattle the table.

He glances at you, cheeks red, an odd expression on his face. “What was that?” he asks, pointing to the computer.

You snatch it away, storing it in one of the kitchen drawers, desperate to hide it as if the damage hasn’t already been done. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

He stands up, lips parted, trying to find the words to say. “That was…I’m pretty sure it said…Is that about me?”

Your skin is sweltering now, beyond freaked out and unsure how to fix this mess. Is it better to lie and try to chalk it up as one big joke? Or should you be honest and hope he’s understanding about it? Either way, there’s no turning the clock back. He’s already read something, and it’s not going to be leaving his mind anytime soon.

You decide to tell him the truth, as best as you can explain it. “Okay, I know it’s weird, but I write these types of scripts for voice actors to perform. It’s just a little part-time hobby I have, and I even get paid for it. Sure, it’s a little risqué, but it’s nothing illegal, okay?” He continues to stare at you, expression relaxing just the slightest bit.

“Also, it’s not about you. Maybe it’s a little bit inspired by you, but it’s definitely not about you. Not exactly,” you add, uncertainty laced in your voice. This is even more mortifying than you expected it to be. Is it too late to break the lease on your rent and move across town?

It’s quiet for what seems like forever. He doesn’t respond, contemplating your explanation silently to himself. Eventually, he takes a couple steps towards you, reaching behind to slide the drawer open, pulling your laptop out. You’re frozen, stunned by his close proximity, anticipating his next move. Finally, he says, “I want to read the rest of it.”

“What?”

He smirks, tension easing from his shoulders as he sits down, taking a swig from your wine glass. “I want to finish it. It was getting good before you stopped me.” He opens your laptop screen, the document appearing exactly where he left off.

You bury your face in your hands, taking the seat beside him, groaning. “I can’t believe this is happening right now.” You refill your glass almost to the brim with wine, taking a large gulp of it before passing it to him.

“Did you really think you could keep something like this a secret? This is pretty wild,” he chuckles, tipping it into his mouth, at the same spot where you did.

“I didn’t think you’d be the first person to find out, though.” You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for whatever is about to unravel from this.

“Fair enough.” He scans the words, reading each one meticulously. “So are these lines supposed to be, like, what the voice actor says? It’s just them talking?”

“Yup.”

He giggles, blushing. “Okay, so, we’re pretending that I’m the asshole neighbor. Got it. Are you sure this isn’t about me?”

“It’s inspired by you. Inspired,” you reiterate, swallowing a large gulp of alcohol.

He bites his lip, hiding his smile. “Okay. Um, so it says here in the bracket that there’s knocking.”

“That’s the cue for sound effects.”

“Got it. So,” Geto knocks thrice on the surface of the dining table, reading, “What can I do for you, neighbor? Oh, you want me to turn the volume down? Is it too loud for you again? This is totally about me!”

You can’t help but laugh, shrugging. “Maybe it’s a little bit about you.”

He hides his smile behind his hand, swearing under his breath. “Shit, okay.” He clears his throat before continuing. “I’m sorry for being so noisy these past few weeks. Do you think you could ever forgive me? Do people really get off on lines like this?”

“Just keep reading it!” you yell at him, playfully kicking him beneath the table.

“Okay, okay! Ahem. I think I know exactly what I can do to make it up to you. I know you like me, even though I’m such an asshole. Think you can forgive me for just one night?”

You clench your thighs together, concealing the arousal growing between your legs. You’ve always thought he had a sexy voice but paired with the script and knowing what’s about to come, it’s hard to control your desires.

His voice is hushed now, low and sultry. “Yeah? That’s what I thought. You want this cock, don’t you?” Geto swallows thickly, pausing to catch his breath. “Been hungry for it this entire time, huh?” There’s a blush in his cheeks again. He shifts in his seat, hands down at his lap. “Well, go ahead. Come get it. Use me like you’ve always wanted to. Whoa, okay, this is…this is getting a little crazy now,” he chuckles nervously, avoiding your gaze.

Unable to resist your curiosity, you glimpse at his crotch, an obvious bulge protruding from his sweatpants, stunned that he’s hard right now. Without thinking, you scoot closer to him, placing your hand on his knee. He meets your gaze, eyes wide, lips parted.

“If you want to, we can stop,” you whisper, fingers trailing his inner thigh delicately. You can’t deny it any longer. You want him. You’ve always wanted him. And if he didn’t feel the same, he would have already been gone by now, too weirded out by your strange hobby to stick around. Yet, here he is, playing along with it, playing along with you.

You wait for his answer, resting your hand dangerously near his erection strained in his pants. “I don’t want to stop,” he says, spreading his legs wider for you. “l want to be a good neighbor to you from now on. The very best.”

~~~

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” he pants, stripping his clothes off hastily as you watch him, already naked on your bed. When he’s finished, he hovers over you, relishing the sight of you beneath him.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a passionate kiss, tongues swirling around each other’s sloppily. “You’re sure you want to keep going?” you ask between smooches.

He laughs, sucking on your bottom lip. “I’m not stopping this for anything. Are you sure you want to keep going?”

You nod at him, guiding his hands to your breasts. “Absolutely.”

He pinches your nipples until they’re perky and you’re whining in ecstasy, rutting your hips against him, desperate for friction. He slides down, leaving a trail of kisses along your body until he’s at your arousal, tongue lapping at your clit. You squeeze his head between your thighs, his mouth pressed firmly to your cunt, slurping at your juices. “Fuck, Geto. Feels so good.”

“Suguru,” he muffles, lips latched to your swelling bud. “Call me Suguru.”

You run your fingers through his hair as he eats you out, tugging at the strands when you reach your first orgasm, gushing all over his face. He licks you slowly as you come down from your high, flicking the tip of his tongue on your sensitive bud. He reaches down to stroke his cock, stiff in his fist and leaking with precum. “Fuck, you taste amazing. So fucking pretty when I eat out this sloppy cunt. Can I fuck you now, sweetheart? I want to make you come around my cock.”

You roll over in bed, spreading your ass cheeks for him. “Yeah, fuck me, Suguru. Fuck this wet cunt.”

He wipes the sweat beading on his forehead, jerking his cock feverishly in his other hand. “Fuck, I knew you were a slut, I just knew it,” he huffs, slapping his dick on your ass, rubbing it slowly between the soft flesh of your cheeks. He guides himself inside you, stretching you out little by little until you swallow him up completely. He starts thrusting, his motions extra smooth from your previous orgasm. “All those nights, I listened to you touch yourself with those vibrators. I’d stroke my cock with you, come whenever you did. Your little whimpers are so fucking sexy, especially when you try to hide them. You have no idea what you do to me.”

You’re too fucked out to process his confession, throwing your ass in tandem with his thrusts. His grip is tight on your waist, fucking you like you’ve never been fucked before. Suddenly, he pulls out, pussy fluttering around nothing, eager to be stuffed gain. You whine, craning your neck to glare at him while he gives you a naughty smirk, reaching for your nightstand. “Are they in here? Your toys?” He searches it blindly, retrieving one of your favorites, clicking the button to activate it, buzzing in his hold. “Use it while you use me.”

You obey his request without question, holding the vibrator against your sensitive clit as he pushes himself back inside you, pounding away at your cunt. You climax twice more around him, completely spent now, brain like mush, letting the toy fall off the bed, slippery with your cum. He laughs at your docile expression, pulling out to bury his face back into your pussy, licking off all the cum smeared over you, determined to make you come again. When you do, he crawls up the bed, a satisfied smile on his face, straddling you while he pumps his cock in his fist. After a couple strokes, he shoots onto your tits, covering them in his pearly cum, moaning your name.

He helps you clean it off, grabbing several tissues from the nightstand, wiping your chest dry. You scoot closer to the wall to make room for him, snuggling beside you with his mouth grazing your forehead, giving you a smooch.

Thinking logically again, you recall his confession from earlier. “Can you really hear me through these walls?”

He chuckles. “Yeah. But only if I’m listening really carefully.”

“And did you really…?”

“Yeah. I did,” he admits, blushing. “Sorry. I guess I’m kind of a pervert.”

You giggle, nuzzling into his chest. “Well, what does that make me then? Who’s the one who wrote filthy scenarios about you?”

“I thought you said it was only inspired by me?” he teases, cuddling you closer.

“It was totally about you, okay? I just never thought it’d actually happen.”

He massages your back lovingly. “Aren’t you glad it did?”

You peer up to smile at him. “Yeah. I am.”

~~~

The following weekend, there’s another noise complaint. This time, however, it’s you receiving it from your neighbor on the other side, complaining about how loud you and Geto are while having sex.

#geto suguru #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #suguru geto smut #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #geto smut #geto x reader #geto x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #y2k karaoke party #milestone event

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drak3n · 4 months

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REAL ESTATE AGENT!NAOYA

CONTENT WARNINGS: exes to lovers trope, smut, angst, mean naoya, praise, (consensual) recording and sending of sextape, creampie — scroll down for smut!

sena’s note: i love him no matter what y’all say 😻😻

➩ REAL ESTATE AGENT!NAOYA who hated his job and working in general; whose father had more than enough money as he owned a lot of buildings and offices all over kyoto

➩ REAL ESTATE AGENT!NAOYA who had been forced by his father to do something after getting his business degree, something other than enjoying his life, spending his daddy’s money and traveling the world

➩ REAL ESTATE AGENT!NAOYA who hasn’t really been the same ever since your breakup two years ago; who was in denial for the longest time about missing you until he decided to make peace with his mistakes and move on… try to move on

➩ REAL ESTATE AGENT!NAOYA who knew you had moved on a long time ago, as he had seen multiple pictures of you with another guy on your socials, pictures where you looked at someone else the way you used to look at him

➩ REAL ESTATE AGENT!NAOYA who didn’t give a damn about his clients and whether they liked a place or not, but who was still very good at his job due to his cunning and manipulative ways

➩ REAL ESTATE AGENT!NAOYA who didn’t really look at his next client’s name, all he knew was that they were in dire need of an apartment for one person

➩ REAL ESTATE AGENT!NAOYA who showed up to the apartment he’d found, a shabby place that was way too expensive for the state it was in, but they didn’t have to know, right?

➩ REAL ESTATE AGENT!NAOYA who stood in the dim living room on old, croaking parquet with his expensive, shiny dress shoes and crisp, perfectly tailored suit, hearing the doorbell ring

➩ REAL!ESTATE AGENT!NAOYA who ripped the door open just to see his ex-girlfriend he had wasted spent three years of his life with

the first thing naoya noticed was that you looked like shit. not even in an offensive way. you just looked terrible. sleepless, sickly, with crinkled clothes and messy hair. back then, you made sure to look presentable even on your worst days.

he didn’t think he’d ever see you again. especially not in such a state.

“naoya?” your voice was hoarse, and you made no move to crack a smile. he didn’t smile either. “my coworker organized this, i didn’t know it was going to be you. i’ll just leave and—”

“stupid. come in.” the apartment wasn’t very inviting, and naoya’s face wasn’t either, but it was better than spending any more time outside in the cold. your jacket was too thin for the weather, as you still hadn’t had time to pick up all of your things from—

“how are things goin’ with your boyfriend?” silence. you didn’t bother asking how he knew you had someone else… used to have. you picked on the laces of your coworker’s hoodie she’d let you borrow, seated on the run-down couch while he opted to stand. of course he wouldn’t sit on a couch that wasn’t made of exquisite, original leather.

“we broke up,” you stated after some time, not quite meeting his amber eyes, “that’s why i need a new place.”

➩ REAL ESTATE AGENT!NAOYA who almost laughed in your face at that; and who let his bitterness of the breakup get the best of him as he told you that he knew that no one else would be a good match for you, reminding you of the words he had spat at you two years ago

➩ REAL ESTATE AGENT!NAOYA who didn’t bother stopping you as you left the shitty apartment through tears, and who didn’t care until he received a call from your coworker demanding to know what the hell happened because you hadn’t talked ever since the incident

➩ REAL ESTATE AGENT!NAOYA who found out from your coworker that you were staying with her, whose jaw tightened when he heard that your ex-boyfriend dumped you for his ex who moved in with him immediately and wanted you out of the apartment

➩ REAL ESTATE AGENT!NAOYA who appeared at your coworker’s apartment days later — after finally checking the data sent to him by her — while she was at work and you had a day off, and who looked at your miserable state when you opened the door

“do you really want to give that ugly bastard the satisfaction of being all depressed?” he sneered, hands shoved into the pockets of his brown dress pants. you didn’t see how his hands twitched in anger at your condition. he always hated seeing you like that. it was him who was supposed to be moody and grumpy, not you.

“did you come here to make me feel even worse?” you bit the insides of your cheek, feeling self-conscious at how polished he looked while you looked like you were homeless. technically, you were. “you got what you wanted, naoya. i’m unloveable. are you happy now?”

he kept quiet for a few seconds, and you took it as a sign to shut the door. before you could, he stopped you.

“pack your things. you’re staying with me.”

➩ REAL ESTATE AGENT!NAOYA who didn’t take no for an answer and nearly smirked in victory when he had you sitting in his passenger seat just like back when you were his

➩ REAL ESTATE AGENT!NAOYA who frowned upon seeing that you only had very few clothes, meaning that most of your things were still over at that bastard’s place

➩ REAL ESTATE AGENT!NAOYA who heard you crying yourself to sleep that same night in the guest room he offered you, and who shrugged innocently when you asked the next morning how your bags of belongings were suddenly standing in the middle of the blonde’s spacious living room; “someone set them down in front of the door. must’ve been your colleague.”

➩ REAL ESTATE AGENT!NAOYA who watched you open up more and start smiling again, and who felt something inside of him blossom once more, something that had never quite withered away to begin with

➩ REAL ESTATE AGENT!NAOYA who couldn’t be happier when you asked if he was willing to try again with you, more maturely this time, and who knew you were dying to get revenge on your shithead of an ex as much as he was

“arch your back more— yeah. fuck.”

a breathless chuckle was heard and you wiggled your hips, face buried in silky pillowsheets as you heard the sound of your phone recording. “n—naoya, please—” his hand massaged the flesh of your ass greedily, and you whined.

your thighs shook in excitement as naoya slid inside of your already drenched cunt, and you moaned loudly into the fabric as you started fucking yourself on the cock you had missed so, so much.

“hey, y’see that?” he wasn’t talking to you. you could tell from how condescending and arrogantly he spoke. “look at how she’s moving so prettily for me. s’your new bitch doing the same for your ugly ass? i doubt it.”

your phone camera captured your body glistening with sweat, shoulders and ass littered with hickeys and bite marks, and naoya made sure to record where your bodies connected, revealing how your squelching pussy pushed out a ring of your combined arousals.

“fun fact.” he kept talking while shallowly thrusting into you, kissing your womb with every push. “she’s lettin’ me hit it raw. never let ya do it, hm? because no one can compare to me, right baby?”

your trembling body along with the muffled squeal you let out was proof enough as you were tipped over the edge, squeezing naoya deliciously. he grunted, hips stilling before he pulled out. in your fucked-out state, you barely registered naoya’s digits spreading your lower lips to record how his cum oozed out of you.

your ex could never.

“and no one can compare to her. fuckin’ perfect pussy. look at what you’ll never have, son of a bitch.”

➩ REAL ESTATE AGENT!NAOYA who was disgusting, but who grinned widely when your shaky fingers pressed send before you chucked your phone aside to take one or two more loads that night

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gretavanlace · 5 months

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Sugar II (part 6)

Jake Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, illusions to cheating, illusions to oral sex (f rec), language, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, phone sex, etc

Your phone is lying on your chest when it begins to vibrate. Pretend you weren’t waiting for it all you want, your self-deception is laughable even to you. But isn’t that what you’ve become? A miserable joke who spurns the truth with a smile on her face and untruths in her heart.

Lying to ourselves is more deeply ingrained than lying to others, Dostoevsky once said. Wise and brilliant, he was. He also loved someone he shouldn’t have too deeply to let them go.

He is beside you, arm draped across your middle, forehead tucked against your shoulder…so placid and secure in his place next to your wandering mind. So blissfully unaware and peaceful as he dreams of things you don’t care enough to wonder about. But hasn’t he always been? Unaware, that is? He has lived in the dark, oblivious to the fact that he has never truly cradled your heart in his hands.

You are a wicked, black-souled creature, and no one knows that better than yourself. He doesn’t deserve this, and he never did.

Maybe you shouldn’t answer. Maybe. But you will, and you do.

Slipping out of bed like a phantom, you move through the house on silent toes, creeping along until you’re folded into the chair in the far corner of the living room.

“What took you so long?’ His voice drifts out, lazy and quiet, “Hiding from Mr. Wonderful again, are we?”

“You have to stop calling me like this.” You’re quiet, but not like him. Your quiet stems from deceit, and some inexplicable fear of what? Getting caught on the phone? And that’s all this is, right? Just a conversation with an old friend? There’s that self-deception again.

“Stop answering, then.” He counters coolly. Unbothered and wholly aware that that won’t be happening.

“How was the show?” You ask, rather than comment on the ridiculous confidence laced through his tone like sex on his tongue.

“Good.” He sighs, and you can picture his flippant, nearly shy shrug so clearly it grips your heart tightly for a breath. “I may have had a whiskey or three too many. May have tripped. May have fallen. May not have been very rock and roll.”

Your soft giggle tightens his heart just the same, but he doesn’t tell you that. “Did you play through?”

“Of course I played through,” He scoffs with feigned offense. “Who’re you talkin’ to?”

“Then I think that’s very rock and roll, Jake.” The smile won’t leave your voice. “Besides, you misjudged those stairs, don’t blame the whiskey. You should wear your fucking glasses.”

“Oh!” Now he sounds incredibly pleased with himself, dragging the word out like the cat who ate the canary, “Sounds like my sugar caught the show…”

“I may have popped in to peek at a livestream.” You concede, curling down into the chair to get comfy.

“Groupie.”

Pulling the throw off the back, you sling it over your bare legs and shake your head at his nonsense “Miss my Sammy, that’s all.”

“Fuck you.” He laughs.

“Fuck you, too.” You toss right back, but you both hear the love hidden behind those terrible words.

“You miss my stupid kid brother so much, why don’t you come and see him? I could have you on a plane tonight. How long would it take you to get to the airport?” There’s a sincerity in his offer that makes you long to pack a bag and go.

“Jake…”

“Should I send a car, or do you think Mr. Wonderful would mind driving my girl?”

Little shit.

“Stop calling him that.” You scold with little conviction.

“What should I call him then, baby? Since you won’t tell me his name…”

Fighting to sound steadfast, you square your shoulders and issue a warning you don’t feel a drop of in your bones “I’m gonna hang up.”

“Liar.” There’s that gentle laugh of his that echoes through your mind all hours of your lonely days. “What did you do today, sugar? Tell me.”

“Um,” you pick at the blanket absently and search back through the monotony. “I had a work thing. Then I went to the supermarket. Saw a movie. I smuggled a bottle of water inside in my purse like a criminal.”

“I should alert the authorities, but they’ve probably already got your wires tapped.” He’s teasing, but he suddenly sounds so sad. “Did you go to the movies with him?”

You hesitate, which tells him everything without a word.

“Damn,” he’s so quiet now. “I hate that, sweetheart. I hate that so fucking much.”

It makes no sense, he knows you’ve just crawled out of the bed you share with him, he knows that a ring rests on your finger right now - he knows. So why does he sound so broken-hearted? Why this?

“You just go around doing stuff with him, you know?” He clarifies as though he’s heard your unasked question. “Simple little things. The movies. The market. Dinner with your friends. Bookstores. We never really got to do those things together.”

It surprises you, though you aren’t sure why…he’s always been this way, soft and romantic about the strangest things. “You’d want to go to the grocery store with me?”

He laughs as you verbally poke at him to lighten the mood. “I’d go anywhere with you.”

“That’s good. Because I loathe going to the gynecologists alone. Care to attend my Pap smear, Jakey?”

He laughs again, but this time, it’s halting and loud… your favorite of all his laughs, “Absolutely, I do. I’ll steal the stirrups and take them home to use later. The doctor will see you now, sugar.”

You’re laughing now too, likely a bit too loudly “You’re so fucking weird. I feel like I’m talking to Josh.”

“Spending too damn much time with him lately.” He offers by way of excuse, “his shit is rubbing off on me. The other day I briefly considered a perm.”

Your laughter trails off with matching sighs, “I should go.” You say it, but you don’t want it.

“No, you shouldn’t.” He argues quietly, and with a strange tone…he’s fighting something.

“What is it?” You press delicately.

“I just,” he pauses, collecting his thoughts before pouring them out to you. “I just thought you’d be back by now…but you’re still there, with him. And I’m still here.”

“Jake,”

He doesn’t allow for you to finish whatever it was you were about to say that he doesn’t care to hear. “Hush, baby…I know. Do you miss me?”

“Yeah,” you secret into the phone, stealing a glance down the hall. “I miss you very much.”

“Good.” He has quieted to match your whisper. “How much do you miss me? More than Sam?”

“Yeah, I miss you more than Sam,” you see? This is why you’re a bad fucking person. “But like I said, I should go.”

“Why?” There’s that terrible, beautiful rasp again, the one that fails to belie how hard for you he likely already is. “Because you’re afraid you’re going to slide your hands into your pretty panties for me just like you did last night, and the night before, and the night before that?”

It’s a knee jerk reaction that you can’t explain when your finger jabs at your phone to end the call.

He calls back right away, and right away, you answer.

“That wasn’t very nice.” He taunts into the phone with a grin dripping from his accusation. “Don’t you dare hang up on me. Have you forgotten your manners, little girl?”

“Can’t we ever just talk?” You’re struggling to remain on solid ground, but for what? You want nothing more than to sink into him. “Do you ever think about anything else?”

“Other than what?” He counters. “Other than fucking you? Yes, as a matter of fact I do. I think about loving you, and lying beside you like that fuck gets to do. Taking care of you, making you laugh, cooking for you, and drawing you baths, and going to the goddamn movies to watch you smuggle in bottles of water, but you won’t let me have any of that, will you, sugar?”

“I—“ you’re shocked into silence.

“Right.” He agrees, as if you’ve said something poignant. “So forgive me if I indulge where you see fit to allow.”

“Jake, this isn’t right…” oh, don’t you sound righteous? “It has to stop.”

“Isn’t right for who?” He is rife with condescension, “For him? Ask me if I give a fuck about him. Not to ruin the surprise, pretty girl, but I don’t. And maybe you do a little, maybe you do even more than that. Maybe you care more than I’d ever want to know, but you’ll never care enough for it to matter more than you and I.”

No one has ever seen you like Jake sees you…and it is both intoxicating and frightening.

“You want to hang up? Hang up. I won’t call you back tonight.” There’s an edge to his promise, but you know better than to believe it, and you’re thankful it's a lie.

“I don’t want to hang up.” You should want to…but you can’t imagine giving him up right now.

“I love you, sugar.” He breathes, and it’s the loveliest song you’ve ever heard. You want to close your eyes and drift away into it like a symphony. There are cellos and violins in those words, magic and pain more beautiful than anything else you’ve ever known.

“I love you, Jake.” You want him to feel those same things living and breathing inside your own words, but they feel so lacking.

“Do you know what I did this morning?” He questions. You can picture his face so perfectly, and you long to touch it, to simply run the back of your hand down his cheek.

“Hmm?” You hum, still lost in the daydream of being near enough to touch him, to soak in the warmth of his skin.

“I tuned the piano in our front room.”

You know right away that he means the house he visits in the corners of his mind, the place he keeps just for you.

Your gaze has drifted out the window. If you look hard enough, you can almost see the house in the distance, windows glowing golden with light and love “You did?”

“I did. You’re teaching the girls now. I wanted it to be perfect for the four of you.”

“I don’t know how to play the piano, Jakey.” You tease, staring harder still at the mirage of your make believe home.

“Yes, you do. I taught you. You took to it right away, and now you’re better than Sammy, even. You play like an angel. And sometimes, when the girls are asleep, we make love on it and scatter notes around the room in the night.”

Your hand finds its way into your panties all on its own, but it’s innocent somehow, gentle. “We make love on the piano?”

“We make love everywhere, sugar.” He hushes, “I’ve slipped inside of you against the maple tree in the backyard in the Autumn while it drops its leaves at our feet. I’ve nestled my face between your thighs on the porch because you like to watch in the moonlight. Bent you over the kitchen sink so you’ll forget about the dishes, in a closet or two when the girls were too busy to notice, in the dirt in the garden, everywhere.”

A soft moan you attempt to swallow escapes you as your fingers sweep, wet and warm, across your clit.

“What was that, sweetheart?” The smugness in his query is so loving you forget to be annoyed with it, “Are you touching yourself imagining all the places I’ve made you mine? All the places I’ve taken you and made you shake, over and over and over?”

“Tell me,” you beg, slipping your leg over the arm of the chair, opening yourself up for him, offering something he isn’t here to take. “Talk to me. Tell me.”

“That’s my girl,” are you imagining the sound of his zipper through his praise? “What do you want to hear? I’ll talk to you all night, sugar…talk to you forever. Until my voice gives out.”

“The porch,” Another brush against your aching clit, another airy moan you fail to quiet, “Tell me about on the porch.”

“Yeah? You want to hear all about how I lick your pretty pussy on the front porch until you’re dripping down my chin? Want me to tell you about how good you taste, and how sweet you sound when you whine and rock against my mouth?” His voice is like sandpaper smoothing out the frayed edges of your heart. And you most definitely heard his zipper.

“Jake, please…” you would give nearly anything for him to materialize in the room. To listen to his boots clip across the hardwood as he moves, closing in on you until you’re trembling with anticipation.

“Shh, sugar…” he clicks his tongue in mock sympathy, “We wouldn’t want to wake Mr. Wonderful. He doesn’t belong on this porch with us, does he?”

“Tell me.” Your demand falls short through another shaky sigh.

“It’s late, baby,” you can hear it now, the rhythmic, slick slide of his fist along his cock, “and we really should go inside and go to bed, but I can’t take my eyes off of you, you look so fucking stunning in the starlight. You’re curled up next to me in the thinnest, whitest nightie, and I can see the tops of your thighs. So soft and smooth. And I only want to kiss them, but the second I’m on my knees you’re spread open for me like you’ve been waiting for my mouth.”

You’re so wet you can almost pretend your fingers are his tongue drawing tight circles exactly where you need it “And then?”

“Then I slip your panties off, and you give me a little shit about it just for show, but you shut up quick when I start licking along the insides of your thighs. You smell so fucking good, and you taste like heaven, and my cock is so fucking hard for you, but I don’t care about that, all I care about is getting my mouth on you.”

“Do I really taste that good, Jakey?” You pant, arching away from the back of the chair as you slip inside your warmth and fish for compliments.

“You do, baby.” His breath drags in and out of his lungs hard and fast. “You taste so sweet…prettiest, pinkest pussy I’ve ever kissed, you taste like home, you taste like my sugar.”

“Fuck, I’m—“

“Slow down.” He interrupts, sounding gentle in a way he seldom does when he’s hard and throbbing for you. “You just go real slow for me and listen.”

You nod, and though he can’t see you, he seems to feel it all the same.

“I’m on my knees against the porch you helped me strip and sand, and you’re spread open for me on the swing. It creaks every time you move. Your hands are in my hair, but you’re being such a gentle girl, fucking your lovely cunt up into my mouth, begging me softly to suck your spoiled little clit, begging me to make you cum.”

With your fingers fluttering light as air, you can almost imagine it all to be real, and you’re close…so close.

With a choked gasp of your name he pauses, but recovers in a blink, “You’re whining for my fingers, but I want to get you there just like this. I don’t want anything in the way when you finally let go on my tongue. I want to drink you down, baby…every drop. It’s all mine, and I want it. And you let me have you that way, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you nod frantically, writhing in the chair until the blanket falls away, forgotten.

“And you’re going to be such a good girl for me, huh?” That, leading, teasing tone has joined the party, and your stomach is twisting and turning, wringing the lust out of your very soul, “You’re going to be the sweetest little sweetheart and cum right in my mouth because I’m just so fucking thirsty, aren’t you?”

“Oh fuck, Jake…” you’ve hardly made a sound, your constricted throat won’t allow for much more, “Say it again.”

He knows what you want, and like always, he gives it to you without question or thought. “Want you to cum in my mouth right here on the porch, you beautiful fucking filthy girl. I want you, sugar…c’mon and make a mess on my tongue.”

“I’m gonna cum,” you’re spread wide and thrusting into your own touch, but it’s Jake you feel…he’s everywhere, all around you, you’re drenched in him.

“Of course you are, sweetheart,” he soothes, sounding near the end himself, “Because you know how badly I want it, and you’re my girl.”

“I’m your girl,” you whimper, desperate for more more more… “I’m your fucking girl, Jakey. I love you…”

“Love you too, sugar,” a growl rumbles out of him low and menacing. “Love you so fucking much. Come on, baby, c’mon…”

With a fist drawn to your mouth and your teeth dug in deeply, you let it happen. Welcoming that sparking, searing, electric bliss only he seems to be capable of gracing you with, no matter how near or far he happens to be.

You’re quiet somehow, but he doesn’t seem to need anything more than your muted gasps to get there with you. Though on his end, he sounds feral and violent…like the beautiful, seedy underbelly of something you shouldn’t want. Pornographic and obscene. Improper. Dirty. Wrong. Perfect.

With the calm of the afterglow, comes the shame. The guilt. The self-hatred. He knows it all too well already, and rather than drawing attention to what has just happened, he shifts focus to help you through.

“I might order room service. If you were here right now, what would you want? That’s what I’ll get.”

“Hmm,” you think it over, kicking the blanket up from the floor to recover a bit of modesty, “Soup sounds good. Broccoli cheddar if they have it.”

“Soup?” There’s that wide open laugh of his again.

“Yes.” You pretend-pout. “And don’t laugh at me. It sounds divine.”

“Soup it is, sugar.” He sounds soft and a little unlike himself. “We’ve got a small break coming up. It’s only a couple of days, but what if I came to see you?”

“Jake,” you’re preparing to wage a loving war, though you want to see him more than you want the air you breathe to quench your lungs.

“I just want to take you to the movies, that’s all,” he holds up his metaphorical hands innocently. “Will you go see a flick with me? No illegal bottles of water necessary.”

“You want to go to the movies?” You laugh at the idea of it all. So PG in a manner so… not Jake.

“Yep.” He sounds positively delighted at the mirth in your response. “Bring Mr. Wonderful, we’ll have a great time.”

You roll your eyes, stretching out your limbs, which have been tense and contorted for far too long, “Oh, don’t be silly, Jacob, like I would ever share you with Mr. Wonderful.”

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oddduckthatgirl · 8 months

Text

Pray For Us Sinners

Title: Pray for Us Sinners

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

Warnings: religious guilt, religious themes, discussions of sexual themes, smut

Summary: Aemond thought himself to be a devout servant of the Seven. Until her.

A/N: I tried. Really. Don’t hate me.

Aemond rolled over, restless in his bed. He growled in frustration. Sweat covered his bare torso, the sound of his own breath was ragged in the darkness. His thoughts drifted to his betrothed; even his darkest ones. The brush of the cover over his hardness made him groan.

He was beyond frustrated. His stones ache with the memory of her laughter. He longed to hear all the sounds she could make.

Tossing the covers off his overheated body, he begins pacing the floor of his bedchamber. He never felt temptation like this before. He is a faithful servant of the Seven, despite the wrath he would love to unleash.

Lust was a new affliction to him, but he’s seen through his brother exactly the ruin it can bring. Aemond had decided long ago he would not be seduced into depravity like weaker men. He always kept proper distance with any woman he encountered. Never letting his gaze linger too long or speaking in a manner that would be offensive.

Deep down, he did not believe women to be less. They are mothers, sisters and daughters and should be treated with dignity. He couldn’t understand why anyone who called himself a man could hurt these precious gifts from the Seven. It was true he had seen a few women he thought were attractive but he put them out of his mind. They were allowed to just be beautiful without him imposing himself on them.

It was so simple. Until her.

Aemond thinks of the day they were introduced. He was convinced this would be a marriage of convenience. To keep the peace. Her family were very devout followers of the Faith and his grandsire thought the match to be amenable. Mother believed this girl to be an ideal match based on her faith and her love of reading. Aemond thought she sounded pleasant enough according to the letters; that her portrait was pleasing.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of her leaving the carriage that day. The way her golden hair shone in the sun. The shade of pink that painted her cheeks when her dark eyes met his pale one. Her voice saying “my Prince” was the finest song he had ever heard. The way her dress accentuated her shape without it being vulgar. Everything about her is exactly as it should be and more.

Then this feeling began. He was always hot blooded, fire beneath his skin. This, however, was different. Every word she spoke, every shy glance his way, and every touch burned through him. No woman he had ever met had this effect on him.

He decided that he would have to devote himself even more to the Seven. He needed guidance and strength. He knew he deserved it. All he needs to do is ask and the Seven will grant him all he needs.

He doesn’t wish to insult his lady or her virtue. He wanted to be the husband she deserved. She is a pure lady and shouldn’t even be in such lecherous thoughts.

Their wedding was in a sennight but it might as well be six moon turns away. He longed for her presence beside him but it was agony. He wondered if she felt this burning as he did but of course he couldn’t ask. That would be improper. He was sure she felt something. Her face flushes when he kisses her hand. Her breath catches when he pulls her close.

….but his lady wouldn’t trade in depravity. She spends much time in prayer, which he has taken to accompanying her to the Grand Sept. However after seeing her kneel in prayer, that pose has been imprinted into his mind. He had great difficulty concentrating on anything but how tight his breeches had become.

Ashamedly, he has used that image of her kneeling to sate his lust. He imagined standing in front of her, fingers tracing over her perfect face. The way her breath would catch when he said her name. Asking her to show him her devotion. The way she would accept his thumb pushing past her lips. The feeling of her hand unlacing his breeches. How warm her mouth would be as she took his cock. The sounds she would make.

Aemond played these thoughts out time and time again. Especially at night. Sleep would elude him for hours and even if he did drift into slumber he would dream about taking all the pleasures of the flesh with her. He would take his cock in hand, hissing with the first stroke. Never had he been so hard that it hurt. He wanted her, every way he could. Pumping himself while thinking of her lips on him instead of his hand made him a simpering mess. Writhing against the cool sheets of his bed, his moans echoed off the walls. Once the tightness would begin to coil, he would cup his stones while he fisted himself with a tighter grip. His peak would wash over him in moments; her name falling from his lips.

He could find sleep after that but when he would wake shame gripped him. He hates himself for his thoughts and actions. He would pray to the Father to not succumb to this weakness and to be forgiven for wasting his spend on his own pleasure. He would find it difficult to meet the eyes of his Lady the rest of those mornings. She would smile shyly at him and he was once again lost.

He was desperate about these feelings, so he turned to Aegon. Thinking that perhaps just once his brother would give helpful advice.

“Claim her, brother,” Aegon whispered, “all that needs to happen is ceremonial at best. The only way to get rid of temptation is to give into it.”

“We must be wed first. I will not tarnish the good name of my Lady or her house!”

“You fucking virgins. So consumed with your purity and chastity. It’s just fucking.”

“It is NOT just fucking. You give a piece of your soul to them. Every time. Perhaps that is why you have none left.”

“Save your lecture. The only other option is to relieve yourself anyway you can. There’s always the street of silk….or you do it yourself.”

Both options were not what Aemond wanted. He wouldn’t lower himself to visit a pleasure house. Relieving himself was the only suitable option, even though the thought filled him with shame.

It began only at night, after he was alone. Then he would find the need arising after breaking his fast with her and then again after any time spent together. It was affecting his training; he was distracted. He didn’t even read as much as he once had. His thoughts were consumed with her and his need to claim her.

He gripped the edge of his desk tightly now just to keep his hands away. His need is throbbing, begging to be touched. He slammed his fist down against the wood. Why was he so weak? Then she would drift into his mind: her hair falling over her shoulders, the look of complete devotion she has, the cut of her dress…

No! Aemond shakes his head as if to throw the thoughts away. He tries to think of anything else. Small council meetings, mother’s singing, time…yes, what time has it become?

Aemond gathers it must be near the hour of the wolf. The city is sleeping soundly while their Prince suffers. Lust has a hold on him: mind, body and soul.

His soul. That’s it. Now would be the best time to pray. Surely with the world asleep the Seven could hear his prayers without question. He hurriedly dresses, puts on a dark cloak and makes his way from his chambers down the secret passage that leads out from the Keep.

The streets are nearly empty except for a few beggars sleeping there. Aemond is careful to ensure his face and hair are obscured from view. No sense in any passerby to question the presence of a Targaryen Prince at this hour.

Concentrating on his journey to the Grand Sept keeps his mind busy. The need still burning in his veins feels less desperate for the moment. Thankfully the distance was enough for him to calm himself. He’s grateful that he will be able to have his wits about him for this.

He opens and shuts the doors as quietly as possible. Not that he believes anyone would be here, he still wouldn’t want to disturb them. He stands in the entryway and takes a breath. His mind is more quiet now.

He walks towards the altars, confident in what he will ask for until he hears a sound that stops him.

Her. His Lady. Begging.

“Please Maiden, I wish to be pure for him. These desires are consuming me. I do not want him to reject me. I carry such affection for him in my heart. But my thoughts….,” she lays prostrate while sobbing into her hands.

She does feel what I feel. I also carry much affection for her in my own heart, Aemond mused. He cannot bear the sound of her tears. His chest aches to hear her in such pain. He wants to rush to her side, take her in his arms, and hold her until the tears abade.

He slowly approaches. He doesn’t wish to startle her, “my Lady?”

She pulls herself to her knees and turns to face him, “my Prince! Why are you here at this hour?”

He rushes to keep her from standing and instead kneels beside her, “I was restless.”

Her breath catches as he wipes the tears from her eyes, “thank you,your Highness.”

“It’s just us and the Gods. You may call me by my name here.”

Her cheeks flush, “as you wish Aemond.”

His resolve nearly breaks at just his name from her lips, “what troubles you? I would be happy to listen if you wish to unburden yourself to me.”

She begins to speak but silences herself for a moment, “I cannot tell you. This…it’s not befitting a proper lady,” tears well in her eyes again.

Aemond pulls her into his arms and holds her while she cries. Even though the sound breaks his heart, he will not leave her to her tears. Running his fingers through her hair, he presses a gentle kiss against her temple, “all will be well ñuha jorraelagon. I’m here.”

“Not if I unburden myself. You will be completely repulsed.”

He takes the edge of his cloak and begins to wipe the wet trails on her face dry, “you would be amazed at my resolve.”

“I have no doubt of your resolve Aemond,” she wheezed as new tears threatened to fall, “it’s so shameful I fear you will find me to be unworthy of marriage.”

“No more tears. Please. It wounds me to see you so distraught,” he takes her hands in his, “perhaps we can just be still for a few moments. Find peace in this Sept together. Will you try for me?”

She frantically nods her head.

“Good. Let us close our eyes and just breathe together.”

He watches as her eyes close and she bows her head. It caused the fire in his blood to heat once more. He quickly closed his eye and began to concentrate on keeping his breath steady. He also listened for her. He tried to not think of how warm her soft hands were in his. He needed to be strong for her. To help her.

They sat quietly, hand in hand for several moments. Aemond noticed when her breathing became calm. Tension rolled out of his shoulders knowing that at least he could help calm her.

“Aemond,” she whispered in the silent chamber, “why could you not find sleep?”

He opened his eye to see her soft expression. It was one of concern. He kissed her hands before meeting her gaze, “sleep has been elusive as of late.”

“Are you well? Is it,” she glances at his scar, “perhaps the maesters….”

“All they will wish to do is give me essence of nightshade to help me find sleep. Or worse believe I have pains and wish to give me milk of the poppy. Those are not the reasons I do not find sleep.”

“If it is not physical, may I guess you believe something weighs on your soul?”

He swallows thickly, “Something does indeed.”

“And I have kept you from your prayers. Forgive me.”

She begins to pull away but he grips her hands tighter, “please. Stay with me.”

A soft smile accompanies her words, “of course Aemond.”

“I would like to propose something. First I swear to you that no matter what you may say, I will never judge you or wish you gone from my side. Can you make me the same promise? To not judge me or wish me gone?”

“Yes. I swear.”

Her tongue wetting her lips nearly has Aemond lunging for her. He shifts his focus back to their joined hands, “I did not intend on anyone else to be here. When I entered and heard a voice, I thought….it isn’t important. I heard the last part of your prayers.”

Hanging her head in shame as he mentions her prayer, “I am not worthy of you.”

He leans forward so their foreheads touch. Aemond feels a hot tear slip down his cheek, “it is I who isn’t worthy of you.”

She shakes her head, “impossible.”

“Ñuha jorraelagon, the things I have wanted…from you…someone must know what I have imagined. What I have done.”

“Aemond,” her voice waivers, “it is shameful. This sin...”

“We are all sinners my Lady,” he states simply, “we are asked to unburden ourselves with confession. It is only then we can begin to do penance and seek absolution. It should not matter who we give our confession to, just that we make it known and seek to atone for it.”

“You are correct,” her gaze shifts to the face of the statue before them, “I don’t even begin to know how to atone for this.”

“Would it put your mind at ease if I told you of my sin,” a plea in his voice. He needs her to hear him. That is the price of his lust.

“Could you tell me what is your sin?”

He nods, swallowing his fear before he speaks, “Lust. Lust for my betrothed.”

She draws a shaky breath. Her eyes drag over his body, “I too have lust for my betrothed. I have tried so hard to not think of you that way…”

“In what ways do you think of me, sweet girl?”

“That you are a good man. You are kind, despite what you would have others think. You are a man who values his family and those he holds dear. Unlike other Targaryens, you are a man of the Faith.”

“You are too kind to me,” a genuine smile is on his face, “but that is not what brought you to the Sept at the hour of the wolf. I swore not to judge you. I will not.”

She closes her eyes, “it’s just….your hands. I find myself thinking of them. How it feels when you take mine in yours or how safe I feel when you hold me. Then I wonder about your hands on….other parts of me.”

Despite her confession, Aemond takes her hands in his. His chest is heaving; he can feel his heart pounding. The fire is back, “Other parts?”

“Yes,” her own ragged breath sounds too loud in this place. She places his hands on her thighs, “everywhere. In my weakness, I have imagined what your hands would feel like on my bare skin. In….inside me.”

“Tell me,” he flexes his fingers away from hers while dragging them toward her center, “you are a lady of virtue. What do you know of a man’s fingers touching a lady?”

She bravely meets his gaze, “My sister….she never wanted for me to suffer at the hands of a cruel lord. She told me things about my body, of pleasure. Things I now imagine you doing to me.”

“What things,” he felt as though his senses had left him. He’s now so depraved that he’s harder than he’s ever been, on his knees in a Sept alone with his betrothed.

“Things,” wetting her lips before she continues “I have done with myself alone in my chambers at night. I would imagine you touching me instead. I’m so lost to my sin that I wait for the night to come so I can revel in my depravity. It consumes me.”

Aemond gently cups her cheek. He does not trust himself to leave his hands on her thighs, “You desire me.”

“Yes,” no second thoughts to her answer.

“Then I have nothing to fear. For I have desired you from the moment we met,” he brushes his thumb over her lips, “this very moment I am fighting the desire to capture your lips with mine.”

She gasps, parting her lips. His fingers trace a line down her neck and along her collarbone. His eye focused on the swell of her breasts and the small hint of cleavage.

“You are the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms and you are mine. You don’t even know how beautiful you are. The hold you have over me. I would burn every city in Westeros if they dared to speak against you.”

“Aemond….”

“I want to spend every moment with you but I am weak. Even the most innocent way you smile makes me think of all the ways I wish to let this realm know you’re mine. My shame doesn’t end there my lady.”

She kisses his fingers and takes his hands in hers as if they were folded in prayer, “unburden yourself to me, my love. Although my love sounds much better the way you say it. I wish I could say it well enough.”

“You will learn,” he suppresses a groan at the thought of hearing her speaking High Valyrian, “the reason I could not find sleep is I was trying to resist my desire. Today, while we had walked in the Kingswood, that rider passed too close to you. Do you recall what I did?”

“You pulled me back against you, to keep me safe.”

“I did. However, in doing so, my thoughts were not innocent. The friction of your body against mine was too much to bear. When we returned to the holdfast, I excused myself from you. I was worried that I would no longer be able to control myself. I went back to my chambers and lost myself in the thoughts of claiming you. In truth, when I felt your body against mine, I wanted to bury myself inside you.”

Her mouth went dry.

“I went back to my chambers because I needed to relieve myself, as I have done every night. So, I fisted my cock while thinking of how warm and wet you would feel around me. About the sounds of pleasure you would make as I touched your pearl while thrusting myself deep inside you. I can think of nothing else. I have my hands on my cock more than my sword.”

It felt too hot in this stone building. Both of them flush with color from their shared confessions.

“Whatever are we to do Aemond,” pressing her knees against his, “we are not yet wed. We cannot let this control us.”

He nodded and cupped her neck in his hands, “it will not control me any longer.”

Aemond stands and offers his hand to help her from the floor. As soon as she is standing, he pulls her body against his. Her eyes dart around the room, “Aemond!”

“Did you make the journey here alone my Lady,” he purrs in her ear. She can only meekly nod in response, “good.”

He presses his lips to hers and both of them moan. Luckily their sound is muffled. He was desperate and wanting. She was pliant in his arms. His hands explored the curves of her body, squeezing the parts he enjoyed the most which elicited a gasp from her.

He silences her with his lips again, swallowing every groan he makes. Her hands travel along the lean muscles of his torso and chest, then up his arms, only to land in his hair. When he slipped his tongue between her lips, her grip tightened in his silver locks. It only seemed to encourage him more.

He pulled away suddenly, “we shouldn’t be doing this here. Someone will find us. Surely the Septa’s will be here for their morning prayers soon.”

She nodded in agreement.

“Come. We should return to the Keep while we still have the cover of night,” Aemond pulled his cloak back over his head and ensured she also concealed her identity. He watched for anything out of place, “stay close to me.”

She could feel the heat rolling off of him in waves. It made her center ache with want. She knows she cannot give in but she would like nothing more.

They quietly made their way back to the Red Keep. Thankfully no one was yet out in the city to have seen them. Aemond led her up the stairs to the passage back to his chambers.

Once inside, he removed his cloak and saw her taking in his space. Soon these would be their apartments in the holdfast. He stands behind her and whispers, “let me take your cloak my Lady.”

She watches his hands slip to the clasp of her cloak. He was painfully slow opening it but once he removed the fabric, his lips were on her neck. Soft, warm kisses up to her jaw line. He pushed himself against her backside, “see the effect you have on me.”

He spun her around and again captured her lips. He couldn’t get enough. It was like he had been starving. They both held so tightly that she hardly noticed his hands pulling a leg over his hip until she felt her skirts rise.

“What are you,” yelping in surprise as he lifts her with ease to the foot of his bed. Shame burns within her as she whines, “Aemond…please…we cannot.”

He climbs over her body as she lays against his bedding, “I will not take your virtue this night. But it would please me to hear more.”

Before she can ask what he meant, he grinds his manhood against her clothed center. Their shared moans ring through the chamber. He repeats the motion to much the same result.

“Do you wish me to stop,” his eye meeting hers as he kisses the swell of her breasts, “I will ensure you get back to your chambers without being seen.”

“Please continue,” she rasps, “I fear I might die if you stop.

He chuckles darkly and continues, “gods…I can feel your wetness through all of our clothing.”

She attempts to cover her face but Aemond claps his hands around her wrists, pulling her arms over her head. He kisses down her neck as he rolls into her, “Gieve. Just like this. Never hide from me.”

She wails when his movements become faster. She locks her legs around him. She feels the way her body begins to tighten. She has never felt this, even when she is by herself, “Aemond…what’s…I feel strange…”

“All is as it should be,” panting as his pace is beginning to falter, “don’t fight it. Give into it.”

He kisses her again, the want evident in the way he captures her lips. They are both a whining mess of sound and heat.

Aemond feels her hands tightening against him, “let go for me. Don’t fight it.”

His eye goes wide as she falls over the edge of pleasure. The sounds she makes goes directly to his cock. Soon after he shouts her name as he spills into his breeches.

He pulls himself to lay beside her. He takes her hands and presses soft kisses on her fingers, “please forgive me. I have forced this upon us. I thought I could control it. Instead…”

She watches as panic paints on his face. She quickly reaches for his face; he doesn't shrink away even as she is touching the scarred side.

He pulls himself into her and sobs, “please forgive me. I’m so sorry. I told you I was not worthy of you.”

She strokes his hair, “we promised not to judge the other. I am not judging you. You asked if I wanted you to stop and I did not. We should seek the forgiveness of the Seven for failing this small test.”

He nods as she rocks his body, “we should pray. Now.”

“I agree.”

He sits up and offers a hand to her. He kneels first. Looking up at her he sighs, “you are far more than I deserve.”

She kneels in front of him, “you are more than I deserve my Prince,” shame heats her cheeks, “what if someone hears?”

“Not here. The walls are quite thick,” his gaze fixed on her.

“We should begin,” she bows her head and begins her prayers with thanking each of the Seven.

Aemond joins her, repeating the same words he’s heard since he was a boy.

He also offers his thanks when they have finished, “I wish to thank the Maiden for sending this perfect wife to me. I’m sorry that I would let my lecherous thoughts taint her purity. Forgive her slight as I was the one who enticed her. I seek the Father’s forgiveness for my weakness. Give me the strength to not tempt her or myself further.”

“I thank the Father for sending me a man of Faith as my husband,” she smiles at the words, “forgive his slight as he did nothing to sully my virtue. He is but a man and I, a woman. I seek the forgiveness of the Maiden for my vile thoughts. Help me to not be a temptation. Let my virtue warm him until we are wed.”

The silence between them is broken by Aemond, “we shouldn’t…we cannot do this again even though it was…”

“Yes. Even though,” she agreed, “I should go.”

He nods in agreement, “at least let me lead you back through the passages. They can be confusing.”

She grabs her cloak and allows him to escort her back. She more than likely would have lost her way on her own. He pushes the hidden door open and listens for any sounds, “it is safe.”

She enters her chambers, “it will be morning soon.”

He presses a soft kiss against her forehead, “then you should try and find rest. We will have long days and longer nights ahead of us.”

“Go before I ask you to stay,” sighing as he releases her.

He takes one look back at her before disappearing into the passageways. Now that he is alone with his thoughts again, he relives what has occured. If he can endure this night, six more days should be far more simple.

Aemond settles himself back into bed as quickly as he can upon entering his chambers. He nearly drifts off when a sweet smell drifts to him. Her. The fire in his veins is rekindled.

“Seven help me.”

#aemond smut #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #oddduckthatgirl #prayforussinners #aemond x you

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fantastic-nonsense · 4 months

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I wouldn't mind the heavy focus on warrior Amazons so much if they were allowed to be competent instead of just being used as red shirt cannon fodder. But it seems DC only hypes up the Amazons as deadly fighters so other characters can look more impressive when they take them down.

Oh and Happy New Year.

Happy New Year! Forgive me if I use your ask to talk about a piece of the Wonder Woman mythos I've wanted to discuss for some time, because your complaints offered me the perfect segue to write a nice, in-depth meta on it and I couldn't pass up the opportunity.

Honestly, I think a lot of people (both creatives and readers) either don't know, forget, or fundamentally misunderstand the nature of the Amazons' warrior status. So they often get reduced to "deadly warriors who strike first," "supposedly deadly but generally incompetent warriors when outside of their own books," or "militant man-haters" by a lot of people. None of which are true.

The Amazons are incredibly competent warriors and have been since Marston's first portrayal of them in the 1940s, so I don't inherently mind them being shown as such. However, where people get bogged down is insisting that they be shown as deadly and trigger-happy offensive fighters who are happy to strike first and hard, which fundamentally goes against the philosophy and thematic messaging built into Amazonian lore.

DC's Amazonia, lore-wise, is traditionally framed as an Aphrodite vs. Ares "peace and love vs. violence and war" story. In Marston's original rendition of the Amazon's backstory Aphrodite is not only their patron goddess but also their sole creator; it was only after Crisis on Infinite Earths and George Perez's long-overdue lore expansions that the rest of the goddesses became co-creators and co-patrons of the Amazons. Regardless, Ares and his domain are consistently invoked as what the Amazons don't want to be like or engage in. That behavior is the antithesis of what Amazons are supposed to be. This lore informs literally everything about how the Amazons view both their combat abilities and their duty to the goddesses.

The contemporary Amazons are, for the most part, women who died in terrible and traumatic ways at the hands of men (usually through domestic violence, murder, or as conquests of war). When the goddesses created the Amazons by reincarnating these women via the Well of Souls, they specifically charged them to become their champions. And what did these goddesses want? They explicitly wanted justice and protection for women in a violently patriarchial world. The Amazons being warriors is thus specifically tied to an understanding of necessary self-defense and protection (both of themselves and other women), not offense.

Which of course is what lands the Amazons on Themyscira in the first place: invoking the goddesses' ire by not obeying these commands after their rebellion against their enslavement by Heracles and his men crosses the line from the necessary battle to achieve their liberation into wanton violence and revenge:

"The battered Hippolyta prayed to her goddesses and found the courage and inspiration to free herself. Athena had reminded Hippolyta of the Amazons' purpose and mission—but not all of the Amazons remembered. Or cared. They yearned for vengeance. For retribution against those who violated them...and under Antiope, many found it." -Wonder Woman: Our Worlds at War (2001)

And as Hippolyta and Menalippe tell Antiope:

"No, Antiope. Never vengeance; never again!" /// "That is Ares' way, Antiope. We achieve no glory by embracing the Dark God's power!" -Wonder Woman (1987) #1

The Amazon way is promoting a society based on love, equality, truth, and peaceful conflict resolution, not vengeance and violent combat. It's a philosophy that defines Diana's mission in Man's World as an ambassador, teacher, and living example of her peoples' way of life:

Enraptured, they listen to her dissertation on equality between the sexes, tolerance, peaceful coexistence. Social Philosophy 101, Amazon Style. -Wonder Woman (1987) #170

Diana's gods-given mission was to spread the Amazonian ideals of conciliation—to give those living in the World of Man the proper tools to peacefully coexist with each other. It was her life's purpose to teach the possibilities of respect and love by being a living example of an upbringing founded in those ideals.

Truth-seeking, diplomacy, and peace are the Amazonian way of dealing with conflict, not violence. And when you are forced to engage in combat (and you should be prepared for that eventuality because sometimes it will happen), your goal should be self-defense and de-escalation, not offense and prolonging the conflict longer than necessary.

This is also, as an aside, why Diana (and specifically Diana in her capacity as Wonder Woman) does not usually carry offensive weapons like a sword and why her primary "weapons" are the Lasso of Truth and protective bracelets. She's the official representative of her peoples' culture and personally deeply believes in that cultural philosophy. Other Amazons have different views on the matter, including her mother, but Diana grew up completely separated from the World of Man and fully immersed in that belief system, which deeply informs how she views her mission as Wonder Woman.

Personally, I think many (but not all) of the problems re: depicting the Amazons in the modern era come from various writers attempting to solve contradictions that don't exist. They see "kickass trained warriors living peacefully on an island" and see that as a contradiction they have to solve: why do they train if they're pacifists? Why do they fight if they're peaceful? In reality, it's not a contradiction: their status as warriors and champions is specifically tied to self-defense and protection (both of themselves and others), but given the choice they don't want to have to take up arms to protect people because that goes against their fundamental cultural philosophy. Outsiders and meddlesome gods are the ones who force them to do that! What they want is for everyone to be treated with love, respect, and understanding so they don't have to!

And there's a lot of problematic elements built into the concept's execution, but this is the core thesis behind the split between Hippolyta's Themyscirans and Antiope's Bana-Mighdall. The Themysciran Amazons have had their fill of violence and war; they just want to live in peace. But a) they were specifically tasked with guarding Doom's Doorway when they were taken to the island, a duty which necessitates perfect combat readiness, and b) their history is littered with examples of people refusing to leave them alone. So they train, in case someone decides to take shots at them, but otherwise live in peaceful isolation. Meanwhile, the Banas looked at that same shared history and went "we need to take the fight to the outside world. Offense is the best defense, and the only way to protect ourselves and the other women of the world is to actively seek vengeance for the violence women face." So they chose to actively intervene in Man's World, fighting constant battles and exacting revenge for any women mistreated at the hands of men.

...which is also why Artemis was such a necessary and interesting addition to the Wonder Woman mythos (even if she's often handled...poorly), because she and Diana represent two diametrically opposed views of how to protect and represent both their cultures and the women of Man's World, but that's a rant for a different time.

Anyway, the Themysciran Amazons' martial pacifism as a cultural value isn't a contradiction; it's one way of looking at a history filled with violence and victimization and saying "no more." And it's a pretty subversive way of doing so, which (well-written) comics tend to note!

So yes, the "Amazons are warriors" mentality has always been there and has been solidly emphasized at various points throughout Wonder Woman's history, and it should be acknowledged and shown that they're all incredibly competent in battle when they're forced to engage in it. But the way in which it gets emphasized is what defines whether a writer has a solid understanding of the history and baggage that comes with depicting the Amazonian struggle and the socio-political issues embedded in their lore. And unfortunately...many writers just don't seem to get it.

#sorry for just ranting about this but I HAVE to correct the narrative every time this comes up. it's not a want. it's a need.#someone hire me to write a political history of Amazonia #I could do SO MUCH with the recurring themes of isolationism vs. interventionalism as a method of self-defense #dc comics #wonder woman #wonder woman meta #diana of themiscyra #artemis of bana mighdall #queen hippolyta #dc amazons #dc meta #long post #asks

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idkfitememate · 4 months

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OH OH!! A little thought came to me!!

I kinda like our Otter!Creator having a little space of their!! like a little pond for them to swim to, or or a place where no one can disturb them!! just their little quite space to relax and chill with! now thats gonna be cute!!

Otter anon🦦

Getting your own swim room was probably one of the best things to happen while under the care of the Hydro duo.

It was just a huge room filled with water at the bottom, with a whole underwater section just for you. Smaller Meka in the forms of different aquatic creatures swam around to make it more realistic, with corals and shells and everything to make it better and more homey.

You had been in the room for well over five hours now.

Sure you loved the frilly collars and fantastical trials that your friends took you too and dressed you up in, but the peace was nice.

… Being alone in peace, was nice. You needed the break anyway.

I think that’s sometimes it can be too much to be around our duo. Loud and excitable Furina and quiet and withdrawn Neuvillette. The two opposites can be quite the headache sometimes. Of course, no offense to them. But sometimes you just need to breath ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹

#genshin impact sagau #sagau x reader #sagau #x reader #x gn reader #gn y/n #yandere x reader #yandere x you #Otter!Creator #asks <3 #anon <3 #Otter anon <3

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somanyratsinthewalls · 4 months

Text

The Crew's Whore Part 6 (+18)

The Crew’s Whore (Part 6) (+18)

Summary: You are the former owner of the Grand Line’s most popular brothel. Your powerful fighting abilities got the attention of the captain of the Straw Hat Pirates. He had asked you to join their crew but what would you bring to the team? Your battle skills were hardly comparable to many of the other Straw Hats… but you actually had a great talent. Your years working as a high end escort had prepared you to become the private plaything for this pirate crew. You joined the Straw Hats as their personal sex toy.

Pairing: Nami x Robin x Female!Reader

WC: 2200

TW: gossip, alcohol consumption, making out, lesbian sex, wlw, threesome, fingering, face sitting, ass play, squirtin! three girls, mild voyeurism, oral sex, Sanji having an aneurysm.

— —

It was growing late in the evening aboard the ship. The table in the center of your bedroom was littered with wine bottles and empty chip bags. Robin was laying on her back on the loveseat in your room while you and Nami were laid on your bed. You were on your stomach, propped up on your elbows facing Robin on your couch while Nami had settled against the pillows at your headboard. The three of you were all reading through the huge stacks of trashy magazines you had purchased at the last island.

This was a guilty pleasure of yours. The life of a pirate isn’t exactly one that allowed many feminine wiles. Because of that, the three of you loved to splurge on girly gossip rags whenever you arrived at civilization.

“‘Hot or Not? Marines’ I’m voting not.” Robin skims through the pages of the magazine and comments at the articles. “Oooh here’s one. ‘Who is Your Warlord Boyfriend? Take This Fun Quiz to Find Out.’ I hope I get Mihawk. He’s probably the least offensive of the bunch.”

“Wait check how old it is, is Jinbe still in there?” Nami closes her magazine. Robin flips through the pages and settles on one.

“Damn, this is only from a few months ago. Could you imagine if he was???” Robin chuckled.

“We could never let him live it down.” You laughed as you flipped through your own magazine. “I’m sure he was quite the stud back in the day.”

“I mean… if you’re into that!” Nami couldn’t help but let out a boisterous laugh. The three of you laughed together, there were at least 2 empty bottles hanging around your room from just this evening. You grab a handful of potato chips and shove them into your mouth. You take a gulp of wine to wash them down.

“If Sanji knew we were having convenience store cinnamon buns and spicy chips for dinner, he would have a fucking heart attack.” Nami remarked with a smirk.

“Doesn’t that make it taste better?” Robin smiles as she takes a drink.

You both hum in agreement and raise your glasses to the middle of the room casually.

“How exactly did you assure that the ever present cook would leave us alone tonight?” Robin looks up from her magazine quiz to meet your gaze.

“I jerked him off before we left for town. 10 minutes in exchange for peace all night? An easy deal to make.” You smirked.

“Not in the galley though, right? ‘Cuz we like? Eat there?” Nami cocked her head at you, annoyed.

“No of course not!” You shoot back and return to your magazine. “Not today at least.”

Suddenly a pillow was launched at your head and you felt Nami next to you kick your shins.

“Gross!” She half scolded half laughed at you.

“Hey don’t look at me! Blame your cook for his appetite!” You toss the pillow back jokingly at Nami.

“Honestly he’s been much more enjoyable to be around now that he finally has an outlet for his proclivities. I have to extend my gratitude!” Robin remarks.

“No thanks needed, it’s what I enjoy doing. If it makes being around a ship full of sweaty men more tolerable, then I’m only reaping the extra benefits.” You smile and kick up your feet behind you.

“OK I know I said I’d never ask about it, but like… there’s no way they can all make you cum, right? Like, most of them are certifiably stupid.” Nami asks, feeling curious after a few drinks.

“Hah!” You laugh. “Not really at first with some, no. But… men are surprisingly trainable. Even the stubborn ones are very easy to bend to exactly how you like it.”

“Ew sorry I asked.” Nami rolls her eyes and returns to her magazine.

You chuckle and go back to reading the article ‘Latest Beauty Craze: Moisturizer Made From Sea King Semen. Would You Try It?’ You finish your wine and settle back onto the bed.

“You know Franky’s dick vibrates, right?” You burst out into the silence.

“AAAAH!” “Yes.” Nami and Robin reply differently but at the same time. Robin laughs and Nami contemplates killing both of you before she wrestles you playfully onto your back.

“You are so nasty!” Nami huffs out from above you.

“You have actually no idea how nasty I am.” You grin up at her before taking her by surprise and flipping your positions so that she was on her back with you hovering over her.

“You don’t say? Maybe I’d like to find out why the freak cook likes you so much…” You weren’t expecting her to match your flirtatious energy so you were shocked to say the least. Suddenly the tides were shifted again and Nami flips you back over and straddles your hips.

“I’d love to show you..” You look up at Nami with half lidded eyes, her hands pinning your forearms above your head.

Nami leans down and kisses you, gently at first. You softly moan at the feeling of her soft lips on yours and she uses this opportunity to kiss you harder. Nami moves from your lips to kiss and bite at your neck while she yanks your shorts off your body. You gasp sharply at the cool air hitting your now exposed sex. Without reacting, Nami quickly pulls your sports bra over your head, leaving you completely naked on the bed. She hovers over your nude form with a wicked smile on her face.

“Your turn.” You smirk and tug firmly at Nami’s top. She sits up briefly to remove her crop top and lets her breasts bounce freely in front of you. They were absolutely stunning. Your intrusive thoughts got the best of you and you buried your face between them, relishing in how the soft, plush skin feels against your cheeks. You placed a small kiss between her tits before you slide your hand down to cup her clothed sex.

“Let me taste it.” You seductively whisper up at her.

“You’re so cute, I’m starting to see why the boys won’t put you down.” Nami remarks at you before getting off of you to remove her shorts and panties. Snapped out of your frenzied foreplay, you both remember that you aren’t alone in your bedroom.

“Care to enjoy her with me, Robin? You’re more than welcome.” Nami asks while fluffing the pillow laying under your head affectionately.

“You girls look so pretty, I think I’ll just watch for right now, if that’s alright?” Robin winks at Nami and settles back on the loveseat. Nami winks back as she moves to straddle your face.

“Hear that, y/n? Robin said we look pretty. Don’t you agree?” Nami teases as she lowers her slick pussy down towards your waiting mouth. You felt your cunt clench as you saw Nami’s pink lips glisten with arousal leaking from around her tight hole.

“Mhm…” You reach your arms to hook around Nami’s thighs so she couldn’t escape your hold. “So fuckin’ pretty…”

You pull Nami down to sit fully on your face and she shrieks as you begin to kiss and suck at her clit lightly. You pay sweet, loving attention to Nami’s sensitive bud as you knead at the soft skin of her hips and tummy with your hands. Nami throws her head back and moans, her long orange hair tickling your forehead. You spend what feels like both an eternity and the blink of an eye between Nami’s legs and you had barely noticed the pulsing throb of your own cunt.

“Oh sweet y/n, you’re doing such a good job making her feel good. I think it’s only fair you get a reward too, don’t you?” You hear Robin coo from across the room on the couch. Suddenly you feel two slim fingers stroke up and down your wet slit teasingly. You groan into Nami’s pussy at the sensation.

Once deciding you had received enough torture, Robin’s pointer and middle finger slip easily into your wet walls. She curls them gently to just barely graze your sweet spot and pulls back. She repeats her actions until you were whining and begging underneath Nami.

“You focus on making Nami cum, sweetheart. Once you do that, I’ll let you have yours.

*easy enough…* you thought to yourself.

You slide your tongue backwards from her clit through her now dripping folds. Continuing further, you use your hands to pull Nami’s ass apart and begin licking at her tight ass.

“HOLY SHIT- Y/n! What are you?!” Nami jolts and looks back at you.

You look back up at her and rub small circles around Nami’s asshole.

“If you trust me, I can make you cum so hard.” You ask breathlessly, so close to your own release you could taste it.

“I… yes…”

You smile and continue rubbing the tight hole. You return to suckling and licking Nami’s clit and slowly slip your thumb into Nami’s virgin ass.

“Ah!” Nami shouts.

You pick up your pace with your mouth and you can tell the woman above you is getting close. A few moments later you feel Nami’s body jerk forward and she slams her eyes shut.

“Oh shit, oh fuck, fuck, shit, I’m gonna- AH!” You feel Nami’s muscles tighten all over her body, inside and out. Droplets of Nami’s release splatter all over your face and neck and the feeling makes you groan and clench around Robin’s fingers. Nami collapses to the side of you with heavy breaths.

“Wow you did such a good job girls! Now it’s your turn to cum, y/n. Would you like that?” Robin’s soothing voice reaches your ears. Now that Nami was off of your chest, you realize Robin never had gotten up, only using her Devil Fruit powers to play with your pussy from across the room.

“Yes, fuck! Yes I want to cum, please!” You pant out, exhausted from being on edge for so long. You look at Robin with pleading eyes. You see she has hiked up her skirt and discarded her panties, using a hand to gently rub at her cunt. This hand was also soaking wet, so she must have just finished herself. Robin uses the fingers inside of you to hammer into your g-spot repeatedly, and another hand to push down on your stomach.

“Shit, yes! I’m so close!” You cry out and writhe against the comforter.

“Come on, give it to us.” You hear Nami purring up at you from her head now resting on your thigh. She lifts her hand and uses it to rub your clit in tight circles. The combined sights and sensations sent you into a brain melting orgasm and you feel fluids and tension leave your body. You couldn’t form words so you just arched your back and moaned at your ceiling.

You flopped down bonelessly on your bed and caught your breath. “We should probably shower and change before bed, right?” Robin suggests as she stands up.

“And we should probably sleep in my room… unless we want to change the sheets.” Nami looks at you and giggles.

“Yes to both.” You throw a towel on and give one to Nami to wear to the bathroom. The three of you casually leave your room and head down the hallway of the ship to the bathroom. Upon exiting your room, you run into a certain ever present cook coming down from the kitchen for the night carrying a pile of folded clothes.

“Oh, hey Sanji.” You all greet him in passing.

“Y/n I took the liberty of doing your laundry today, shall I put it in your room?” Sanji smiles brightly at you.

“That would be great, thank you Sanji.” You give him a kiss on the cheek as you enter the bathroom with the girls. You chuckle, remembering where your lips had just been. The three of you turn on the showers and strip down.

“You know that skin cream article was actually really interesting, I think I’m gonna buy some.” Nami makes casual conversation as you all enjoy your showers.

Suddenly you hear a man scream followed by the sound of a body hitting the wooden floor of the ship. The three of you look at each other.

“Oh my god. My room! Sanji probably passed out!” You clasp your hand over your mouth.

The three of you couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“Let’s clean the room and leave him there. That way we can gaslight him into thinking it was a fever dream.” Nami grins.

“You’re a genius.”

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece smut #one piece anime #one piece fanart #one piece live action #one piece netflix #one piece fandom #nami #cat burglar nami #one piece nami #op nami #with: nami #strawhats #straw hat pirates #robin x reader #robin #nico robin

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dish-licker · 2 months

Text

Cross posting this ValAngel thing I put on twitter. Tw for abusive relationship.

Valentino with memory issues from all the years of hard drugs. He forgets where he left his phone, why he summoned his assistant, what he likes to order at restaurants. When he forgets, he gets frustrated and lashes out.

So Angel keeps track of things for him. He makes a mental note of where Val puts his keys and remembers his favorite foods. In peaceful times, he does it out of love, to dispel the lost expression on Val’s face. When things are bad, he does it to avoid Val's temper tantrums.

But he walks a tightrope. If he’s too forward with his help, Val will take offense and lash out. So Angel flirts and flatters and makes Val think everything is his idea.

“I'm hungry,” Angel pouts cutely, because he’s noticed that Val hasn't eaten in hours and he always gets cranky when he's hungry. “Take me to that place I like?” It’s actually the place that Val likes, but this way he gets to feel like he's spoiling Angel. The strategy has worked well in the past. Valentino likes to feel magnanimous- as long as Angel is properly grateful, of course.

Val can't find his keys, so Angel surreptitiously sweeps them up from where he saw Val toss them earlier. He drops them onto the couch cushion nearby when Val is looking away. When he looks back, even with his poor eyesight, Val spots the keys. Crisis averted.

They get to the restaurant and slide into the booth. “Want me to read ya the menu?” Angel asks, and he knows it's a mistake when Val’s eyes narrow. He’s about to say that he can read the fucking menu himself, he's not blind, but Angel thinks fast.

He tilts his head and frowns down at the menu. “Hang on. Is this thing in French or somethin’? I can't read none of this.”

Val relaxes. “You're so stupid,” he says affectionately. “It's a good thing you're pretty.”

The menu is in Spanish, not French, and Angel knows it. But he mispronounces half the words as he reads them aloud so that Val can chuckle and correct him each time.

Val orders fajitas, so Angel gets the enchiladas that Val likes. When the order arrives, Angel takes a bite and moans with pleasure. “Soooo good. Try this, daddy.” He feeds Val a bite from his fork, and Val brightens immediately.

He tells Angel that it's just the way his grandma used to make them- a thing he's told Angel a dozen times already, but Angel doesn't remind him of that. He lets Val eat his food while he picks at Val’s abandoned fajitas.

They drink margaritas and cuddle in the booth, making fun of the waitress, gossiping about which of the restaurant’s other customers are hot enough to feature in Val’s movies.

Angel prides himself on being able to handle Valentino. He senses the slightest shifts in his moods, defuses his anger before it flares. This time, Angel navigated safely through the storm. Now he gets to enjoy Valentino at his flamboyant, affectionate best.

On days like this, it's easy to dismiss the days that didn't go well. When Angel missed a signal or failed to suppress an eyeroll, or snapped an “I know,” after Val told him the same anecdote for the hundredth time, only realizing his mistake when Val yanked him off his feet.

When Angel lets himself be flattered by the pet names that Val murmurs into his ear, when he bites his lip when Val gets handsy with him under the table, when the bad days are the farthest thing from his mind…Angel has to wonder which one of them actually has a bad memory.

#hazbin hotel #valangel #mothdust #valentino #not really SHIPPING in the traditional sense #more like interest in their dynamic

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cloudrumble23 · 7 months

Text

Evan woke up gasping, his shirt plastered to his back and his hair stuck to his face. He rubbed the tears from his eyes quickly to focus on the clock. 5:48 a.m. An ominous feeling spread through his entire body, but he took comfort in reminding himself that nothing bad could happen while Fredbear was watching over him.

The fabric of his plushie was worn and stuffing was sticking out between some of his joints, but Evan couldn’t bear to part with him long enough for proper repairs to be done. Father always said it would take a few days to fix the plushie if he wanted it done properly, and Evan would never accept a poor repair job, so instead of giving up the bear for repairs, he just kept Fredbear as he slowly deteriorated more and more each day.

He didn’t feel too bad about it though; Michael had done the exact same thing to his Foxy plushie, and he’d had his toy much less time than Evan had. Evan swapped out the destroyed plushie with his own, but Michael hadn’t seemed to notice, even as the original plushie’s head fell off somewhere, making it impossible to repair the poor fox.

The vest was coming a bit loose, but Evan ignored that. Fredbear didn’t need the vest anyway. It wasn’t his identity any more than Foxy’s hat was, and besides, no one remembered that Foxy even normally came with a hat. He squeezed the small bear, humming softly to himself as he waited for 6 a.m. to arrive.

Evan walked cautiously down the hallway to the kitchen, his guard still up from his unpleasant night’s rest.

“You stink,” Elizabeth complained. She was already in the kitchen eating her cereal while Michael was pouring his own bowl.

Michael rolled his eyes. “Welcome to reality Lizzie. People sweat and have body odor.”

“You never stink in the morning,” she retorted as Evan set Fredbear on the counter before climbing on it to reach the cabinet.

“I put on deodorant. Ev, get off the counter. I can get that for you.” Michael grabbed another bowl from the cabinet and filled it with cereal as well. “I’ll get Evan some when I go to the store, okay?”

“You better,” Elizabeth grumbled into her cereal.

“Plus, it’ll be fine. He’s probably going to shower before we leave for school anyway.”

Elizabeth scowled at that. “But then I won’t have time to do my hair.”

“Then I’ll do it.” Michael rolled his eyes again. “You talk like you have a terrible life, Liz.”

“Maybe I do!” Elizabeth snapped, shoveling more cereal into her mouth.

“Good morning to you too,” Mother said, yawning as she walked into the kitchen. “Are we having cereal for breakfast today?”

“Yes Ma’am,” Michael said, grabbing Evan around the waist to drag him from his spot on the counter. “I was planning to go to the grocery store today to pick up a few things.”

“No nonsensical things we don’t need now, Michael. You know how your father hates that sort of thing.”

“Of course,” Michael’s voice sounded stiff, but he maintained his politeness. “Do you want some cereal as well?”

“That’d be lovely, darling.” She sat down beside Elizabeth. “You children are so wonderful.”

Evan felt himself finally starting to calm down. Today was a good day. Mother and Michael were both in a good mood, a rare occurrence, if he was being honest with himself. Elizabeth’s mood was always sour, depending on who she decided to blame for her problems, but she was manageable. He just hoped they didn’t see his Father before school. That was the one thing that could ruin the peaceful moods of his mother and brother before they left for school.

“Do you want to go to the store with me, Evan?” Michael said abruptly after they’d all finished eating. “So you know where to look for deodorant next time?”

“I guess so,” Evan replied quietly, hoping that was the right answer.

It must’ve been, because Michael smiled faintly and ruffled his hair. His expression faltered, and he made a face though. Michael wiped his hand on his pants. “You really need to shower before we leave though, Little Man. Lizzie was right, no offense. You are kind of gross this morning.”

Evan shrugged. He didn’t want to explain the nightmares, assuming it would put Michael in a sour mood. He didn’t want to ruin the moment.

“Fredbear’s not looking too good lately either,” Michael mused. “Want me to stitch him up for you?”

“Huh?” Evan blinked up at his brother. “Fredbear’s fine.”

“His stuffing’s going everywhere-“

“He doesn’t need anything. He’s fine!” Evan scooped the little bear into his arms, and Michael raised his hands in surrender.

“Fine, fine. If you change your mind, let me know. It would only take, like, 30 minutes, tops.”

Evan didn’t reply to that. Instead, he changed the subject. “I’m going to go shower.”

“Okay.” Michael almost sounded disappointed. But that didn’t make sense. Normally he was happy to be rid of him. Especially so near his birthday, when his friends would be coming over all the time.

On the walk to school, Elizabeth wouldn’t stop gushing about how wonderful her hair was. She practically begged Michael to make it a more regular occurrence, but Michael just shrugged. Evan could see the smile on his face though. He knew it was only a matter of time before Elizabeth got her way.

“Mike!” one of Michael’s friends tried to call him over, but Michael ignored him.

“Come on, you two gotta get to class,” he said softly, putting his hand on Evan’s shoulder to direct him away from the other kid. With a startle of surprise, Evan saw a faint frown on Michael’s face. Maybe he’d had some kind of fight with his friends? Evan couldn’t ask about it, just in case.

“You can’t ignore us forever!” one of the boys shouted angrily while Michael guided Evan in the direction of the store after school.

“Just keep walking,” Michael muttered. He seemed very tense, and Evan wasn’t sure he could do anything to reassure his brother. He just did as Michael asked, hurrying along so they could get out of range.

A few short minutes later, they were walking into the store. Evan felt odd. He’d never been to the store without his parents before. Normally, he and Elizabeth only came when Mother was looking for something specific, or when Michael was sick, and Father was going to the store instead. Being here with Michael was… different.

“They don’t get it,” Michael whispered, seeming to forget who he was talking to.

Evan blinked at him, but Michael didn’t elaborate until after they’d filled the basket with necessary groceries and Evan’s deodorant.

“Everyone expects so much from me,” he mused. “My friends seem to think I have to give them every second of my attention. Mother thinks I have to be responsible all the time. Father…” Michael shook his head. “Even Uncle Henry assumes things. It’s awful, Ev.”

“Maybe it’s just because they like you so much,” Evan said quietly, hoping not to upset him.

“Nah. They expect me to disappoint them. Aside from my friends, anyway. It’s just so stupid. All this shit I have to put up with.” Michael froze. “I mean- Just forget I said that.”

Evan giggled involuntarily, surprising them both. “You’re not seriously apologizing for saying ‘shit,’ are you?” Evan asked. “Kids say that all the time at school.”

“Yeah, but if Mother or Father catches you saying that-“

“Who’s going to tell them?” Evan blinked innocently up at Michael.

He groaned. “I forgot how insufferable you are.”

“Only when I can be.” Evan grinned, feeling secure in his behavior. “Let’s get home. I have homework to do.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Michael shook his head, but the faint smile Evan had seen that morning returned.

“Want to watch T.V. with me?” Michael said when he walked into the kitchen.

Evan guessed he was finished with his own homework, considering his confidence in the way he sat beside Evan at the counter.

“What are we watching?” Evan replied, continuing his notes while Fredbear observed them both.

“The Immortal and the Restless,” Michael said with confidence. “And, it’s not even scary, so you won’t wet yourself when we watch.”

Evan shook his head disparagingly. “I got scared watching a movie with you one time-“

“It gave you nightmares, Ev! I got in so much trouble for that, you know.”

“Then why offer to watch something with me again?” Evan asked before realizing what he was implying.

“I-“ Michael sputtered. “C’mon, man.”

Evan put his pencil down and stared at his brother. He wasn’t getting angry, which meant Evan could actually ask serious questions without fearing consequences for it. “You spend all your time making fun of me, and teasing me, and scaring me, and making me miserable. Why should I trust that you actually want to watch something with me?”

Evan expected a lot of potential reactions to his comments. Yelling, maybe. What he didn’t expect was for Michael to crumple in on himself. “I… Look, it’s not…” Michael swallowed harshly. “I can’t say anything to justify my past actions. You have every reason to be weary. But maybe I’ve changed, Ev. I want to spend time with you. I’m tired of pretending all the time, and I-“

“You’re not kidding,” Evan said softly. “Were you exaggerating this morning, then? When you said it would only take 30 minutes to fix Fredbear?”

“What? No. It’s a bunch of little fixes. You just gotta have the right thread. And if we hurry,” Michael glanced at the clock nervously, “I know Father has thread in his office.”

“You…” Evan blinked. “You’d do that for me?”

“I gotta prove my point somehow, don’t I?” Michael jumped up from his seat. “I’ll be right back.”

Evan turned back to his homework, no longer able to fully comprehend what was happening here. Was Michael genuine? Was he really trying to be a better brother? Evan honestly had no idea, but the best way to find out was to wait until the summer, when Michael was always really nasty usually. For now, though, he’d settle for help repairing Fredbear.

Michael returned, out of breath and a little bit shaky. “We only have a few hours before Father is supposed to be home.”

“Lucky you said it wouldn’t take very long,” Evan said softly, expecting a contradiction.

“Still frightening to think about,” Michael replied. “Okay, I got this.” He threaded the needle and looked at Evan expectantly. Reluctantly, Evan handed his brother the battered gold bear.

Michael set him up gently on the kitchen counter, tucking the stuffing back where it belonged as he started his row of stitching. Evan knew the seams had been originally on the inside of Fredbear, but Michael had tried explaining that he couldn’t fix Fredbear like that. He’d rolled his eyes actually, saying that doing it that way would take a sewing machine and a trip to the workshop, something Michael was not willing to do without permission.

So Evan had to accept that the repairs would be visible, but at least Fredbear would be ready to fight off another night of terrors.

Evan didn’t mean to fall asleep against Michael’s shoulder while watching the show. In his defense, he didn’t have a clue what was going on, and Michael was too busy watching to explain it to him. Evan ended up giving up on the show to study his brother’s face. It surprised him how energetic Michael seemed while watching the screen, but then, Evan guessed this was one of his rare moments where there weren’t expectations dragging him down.

He stirred as Michael carried him upstairs. Confused, Evan blinked sleepily at his brother. “What-“

“Shhh, go back to sleep,” Michael said softly. “I just want to make sure you’re not going to have nightmares.”

Evan always had nightmares. That was the general idea of everything going on. He hated the idea of disappointing Michael, especially after how nice the day had been, but he couldn’t control his dreams. Not now and certainly not ever. He couldn’t even remember a time when he didn’t have nightmares every night. But he had a feeling Michael wouldn’t be swayed in this, so he just nodded against his brother’s chest and closed his eyes again.

Evan didn’t have any nightmares that night. Or at least, they weren’t nightmares he remembered. He woke up that morning with Michael curled protectively around him, like Michael was afraid of something happening. Evan wasn’t particularly worried about that, though.

For the first time in years, he felt content and safe.

#cloud writes #hiiiii #I should really be asleep rn #but I wanted to get this done today #well #tonight anyway #since it's past midnight here #but yeah #afton family #evan afton #michael afton

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theeoriginals · 5 months

Note

klaus or elijah (your choice) x former flame!reader 👀

all i want | elijah mikaelson

+ Ohhh I loved your cat and mouse one! Could you please make a calm housewife/mom of the friend group type of girl and Elijah falling for her in a kind of best friend to lovers situation? Idk I just think it would fit cause elijah’s very family oriented and I see him falling for a dear old time friend too? Idk so uhm yeah. Feel free to refuse ofc!

elijah mikaelson x vampire!reader (no y/n)

author's notes; combining these requests :) hope that's ok!!

warnings; vague references to past violence but nothing insane. exes to friends to lovers, just plotless fluff, with an extra side of fluff. yes elijah is extremely charming, yes he can't make eye contact with a pretty girl. duality of man.

It’s an unspoken thing, what lingers between them still. Unspoken in the sense that they don’t talk about it, but everyone else does.

It always shocks people to learn that the oldest vampires on Earth are ridiculous, catty gossips. Elijah doesn’t know why it’s such a surprise. Living as long as they all have, you’ve got to keep things interesting, otherwise immortality becomes mind-numbing. He supposes that it just doesn’t measure up to their reputation for being ruthless animals, which isn’t unfounded. It’s just not the only thing they could be classified as.

Ruthless monsters that defend each other to the death at the end of the day, no matter how many times they’ve stabbed each other in the backs, certainly. Childish gossips that like to start rumors and rewrite history when they get a little bored, definitely. The two identifiers can coexist, and very much do.

And this thing, this unspoken thing that is unspoken for a multitude of reasons but none more so than the simple fact that even as long as they’ve known each other it’s still fragile, and something could break it with ease, is only unspoken to Elijah.

His brothers and sisters, however, like to do nothing but talk about it.

“Well, she’s almost here,” Rebekah rolls her eyes, but it’s just for the fact that her older brother is going to be a lovesick idiot the entire time the girl is here, and it really takes away from Rebekah’s own quality time with her. “No wonder Elijah’s been bumbling around like a fool all day.”

Klaus chuckles, and the two of them dutifully ignore the glare their brother sends them. “Do you think she sent him a letter to announce her arrival? Elijah always loves things like that,”

Rebekah’s blue eyes light up. “Oh, yes! I wonder if she sprayed it with her perfume– us ladies used to do that with a suitor back in the day,” She fans a hand towards her face, closing her eyes at the small breeze it creates. “They don’t text or call, of course, it takes all of the personality out of it. And god knows Elijah’s all personality,”

Klaus laughs again, and the two finally glance across the room to where Elijah’s leaning against a wall, glaring at them with his arms crossed over his chest.

“I hate you both,” He says, earning another round of laughter from them. “And stop going through my things, Rebekah. Those letters are none of your business.”

The blonde girl pushes her lips out in a pout. “But I get so bored, Elijah. You can’t be mad at me for entertaining myself,”

“I fear he just hates fun, dear sister,” Klaus says, feigning a wistful tone. “He doesn’t approve of my methods of entertainment either.”

“That’s because your methods of entertainment always end in a bloodbath,” Elijah says accusingly, earning a shrug from the hybrid. “You’re both immature. A thousand years old, still acting like children.”

Their faces twist in offense in unison, and Elijah distantly thinks that even though they’re not even fully related, let alone the same age even in their vampiric years, they were twins put on this Earth to terrorize him and ensure that he never knew peace.

Before they can begin their outcries of dramatized offense, and Elijah can continue to lightheartedly mock them, a voice comes from the hall, echoing fondly.

“Must you two always tease your brother?” The smile is obvious in her voice as she walks into the room, and the three of them snap their gazes towards the woman in surprise. “He’s a delicate soul, you know. His poor heart can’t handle too many jokes,”

Elijah recovers quickly, rolling his eyes, though he can’t (and won’t) stop the smile from growing on his face as she meets Rebekah for a hug. “Oh, wonderful. That’s just what they need. Encouragement.”

She chuckles at his poorly-feigned exasperation, and the sound settles in his ears like a morning dove’s song. She releases Rebekah from the hug and leans down to where Klaus is stretched out in a chair with his feet kicked up on the table, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Glancing around at the vaulted ceilings of the compound, she sighs wistfully. “I can’t believe this place looks the same as when you bought it,” She shakes her head in slight disbelief.

Klaus shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest. “When we first returned, there was some… cleaning up to do, but it’s maintained its shape wonderfully.”

If she catches onto his double entendre, she doesn’t say anything, just nods in understanding. That’s something Elijah has always liked about her– she lets things go unsaid. She’s always had the ability to connect with him and his siblings in a way that most others can’t, and even when Elijah is at his worst, she’s been that olive branch that he can grab onto to bring him back to himself. Always so understanding and level. It’s a wonder that she still associates with any of them, given their penchant for chaos.

Finally, she turns her attention onto him, and in its entirety he feels breathless. Even after decades of knowing one another, it’s never gotten easier to hide his ardor for her. He knows she can still read him as easily as she could thirty years ago, too.

“Elijah,” She says his name better than he’s ever heard it, with a tilt to her head and a fondness in her voice that makes him feel more alive than anything else he’s found in his centuries on this planet.

She crosses the room to where he’s at, because he froze in his spot as soon as he heard her voice, and wraps her arms around him like she’s never been more relieved to see him.

It’s another thing he’s always liked about her. She’s never stopped loving him. He knows that. Lives with it everyday.

Regrets a lot of things, too.

He says her name back as gently as he can, like she’ll break in his arms. He wonders if she thinks of all the times she has broken in his arms, and then he tells himself there’s no way she’s forgotten it, because he hasn’t. And that is something that is theirs and theirs alone.

She pulls away and he misses her touch the moment she goes because it feels rarer and rarer with each day that passes. Every time she leaves, he fears it’s the last time he’ll see her.

He doesn’t want to ruin her visit with these thoughts. Even though he knows she’d offer him endless comfort, he doesn’t want her to worry about him for a second.

She turns to face them, clapping her hands together with a smile. “Well, then. What’s first on the agenda?”

──────

Something that comes with living as long as Elijah has is learning that some things about yourself you’ll just never be able to change. Such things like being a vampire in itself, having a firm hand when it comes to doing business with people. He’s been told he’s somewhat of a snake, and he’s well aware of his silver tongued ways, and it’s something he knows he can’t change, and hasn’t ever wanted to.

One thing that has yet to fall under that category of acceptance is his jealousy.

In his defense, he’s never jealous when he thinks he should be. He’s never been jealous of his siblings, spare for a few embarrassing months spent around the doppelgängers, but Elijah has never had to envy someone for something they had because if he wanted it that bad, he could just take it.

But this. This he knows is jealousy, pure and unbridled, and nauseating, if he’s feeling that correctly.

This is the jealousy that he’s seen destroy entire regimes. This is the jealousy that has driven his family to madness at times.

And of course, she’s at the center of it all. Of course she is. There would be no other way he could feel this so strongly if she was not involved in it somehow.

She’s the source of a lot of jealousy, he knows. He’s jealous of the carefree relationships his siblings get to have with her because they don’t have to be burdened with the feelings of the past that are most definitely still there. They don’t have to worry if they looked at her lips for too long, or if they held her a little too gentle to be considered entirely friendly. They don’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing, stepping past that line they so carefully drew in the sand for everyone’s sake.

These are the consequences of his actions, he knows. It doesn’t make it any easier to deal with, though. It might make it worse.

Watching his siblings drink freely as the band played on was nothing unfamiliar. Patrons had long since joined in on the fun, and he’s sure there’s a crowd outside looking in on the celebration of unknown origins.

At the center of it all, she is there, standing on a table with a crowd of adoring admirers surrounding her as she swayed and moved to the music. He would swear there’s a light shining on her, just for her, projecting her shadow above everyone like some sort of angel. He thinks she has every right to be worshiped.

And the reason he’s so maddeningly, bitingly jealous is because he is the reason that he’s not the one dancing with her. He can’t be the one to dance with her, and he can’t be the one that makes her laugh like she is because he’s the one that said they shouldn’t be together. He is the one who broke her heart, and he doesn’t deserve an ounce of the kindness she still shows.

So all he can do is sip his drink at the bar and watch as she pulls his sister, sweet, dangerous, devastatingly insecure Rebekah, up onto the table with her and shares her spotlight with her. Making his sister light up like she does with no one else. Earning another round of cheers from Klaus and Kol as they watch on, demanding another round of drinks for everyone in an odd show of generosity.

She brings out the best in his siblings. In him.

It makes him burn bright inside. Boiling, hot to the touch. He knows then and there that there’s a reason he’s seen something as trivial as jealousy take down the most powerful of men. Love is such a dangerous thing to get involved in in the first place, but finding someone, finding the woman who makes you feel like you could conquer the world is something else entirely. It bypasses dangerous and heads straight into fatal.

Because she makes you feel like you could conquer the whole world, but the second you lose her, it all means nothing. You’ll tear it all down if it means she won’t be there, too.

And the worst part of it all is the only reason he feels like this is because he is the one that ruined it. Blamed his family, blamed his parents, blamed everything else but his own fears for the reason they couldn’t be together. The distance, the timing. Whatever he could grasp, he pulled it out of his pocket and gave it to her on a silver platter, served with a distant coldness he’d long since perfect, and never wanted to use on her in the first place.

He had so much time under his belt, but he was such a child. So helpless it bordered on criminal, all because he fell in love and he didn’t know what to do with it.

It’s embarrassing more than anything else.

He hasn’t taken his eyes off of her since she started dancing. Hadn’t stopped listening since he heard her first laugh. Didn’t want to miss a single second, just in case.

For the first time all night, he blinked and turned his head away from her and threw the rest of his drink back like it was water.

He could allow himself a bit more wallowing. Just a bit.

──────

“Well, Rebekah’s safe in bed. I even got her in pajamas, believe it or not,” Her voice carries even in its whisper, and he looks up from his lap as she enters the small living space, hands clasped in front of her as she takes a seat in the chair beside him. “Original vampire or not, I doubt she’ll feel very good in the morning.”

Elijah hummed, thinking of his dear sister and how even if she’d healed a thousand times over, she’d still find a way to complain. He adored it.

“What about you?”

He raises a brow, lips twisting confusedly. “What about me?”

She gestures towards his slightly slumped form on the couch pointedly. He follows her direction, looking at his rumpled suit, and the white button up he’d undone the top four buttons off, at least. He feels momentarily embarrassed at his state of disarray but he simply huffs out a laugh, lifting his gaze to meet hers again.

“I’m a mess,” He shrugs, earning a quiet laugh out of her. “But I don’t think that has anything to do with our drinking tonight.”

“I can’t disagree, unfortunately,”

He hides the way his grin threatens to split his face behind his face, rubbing along his scruffy jawline as he looks at her. The longer he lingers, the more she avoids his gaze.

“What?”

He shakes his head.

“Elijah,” She intones, such a familiar adoration in her voice that it nearly makes him sick. He doesn’t deserve it. “You’ve been so quiet tonight. What’s on your mind?”

“You,”

Her eyes widen in shock at his quick, candid answer, and he has to hide his own surprise at how quick the word had shot out of his mouth.

“Me? What about me?”

“Everything,” He sighs, shifting his long legs so he could turn towards her and give her his full attention. “I’ve missed you.”

“Oh,” She breathes out, looking slightly bashful. “Well, I always miss you. I wouldn’t ever leave if I didn’t–”

She stops herself, covering her mouth with her hand as a sheepish look crosses her face. He knows she wants him to move past her slip up, but he doesn’t. Can’t.

“If you didn’t, what?” He leans forward, looking at her imploringly. “Why do you stay away so long?”

She takes a moment to collect herself, picking at the skin around her nails half-heartedly, like it’s not really bothering her, she just doesn’t want to be so open right now. He’d feel worse about pushing her if he didn’t feel like his heart was leaping out of his throat.

“Well, I didn’t think you wanted me around that much,” She says quietly, gesturing towards him.

He rears back like she’s slapped him.

“How could you ever think such a thing?” He whispers her name, a distant veil of horror laced in his tone. Fear, really.

“You said,” She says, face furrowing in confusion. “All those years ago– you said that there was no reason for me to stay here with you in New Orleans. So, I– I left. And I travel all the time until I come back here for as long as you’ll let me.”

Elijah feels something gripping his chest and it feels remarkably like his heart is breaking.

His voice breaks on her name and he leans forward again, reaching into her space to grab her hands in his. Allowing himself this piece of her that he simply doesn’t deserve.

“I never,” He stops, breathing out harshly. “I never wanted you to leave. I just–”

He stops again, squeezes her hands, and then steels himself because this is the least he owes her.

“You deserved more than to be stuck here with my family,” He starts slowly. “I never– I never wanted you to leave. Every time you walk out of those doors, I want to chase you down and make you stay. You have to believe me when I say that I only ever wanted you to be happy, and you wouldn’t have found that stuck here in the mess we had made back then.”

There’s a poignant silence that settles as she processes his words, and he holds the ragged breath that builds in his chest when she begins to drag her thumbs along the backs of his hands, smoothing at the skin there. Ever so gentle.

“All I’ve ever wanted was to be here with you and your family,” She says, shaking her head like she’s scolding him, even though her tone is anything but. “Being here makes me happier than any place I’ve traveled to. And I’m– I’m truly grateful that you had my best interest in mind, Elijah, but you have to understand,”

She trails off and an incredulous laugh leaves her lips as she smiles at him. “I’ve loved you my entire life. And my heart used to break every day knowing that I’d only have a short time with you. When I turned, I was so– I was so happy because I suddenly had the rest of time to be with you. And you… you broke my heart, Elijah. You truly did,”

She presses her thumbs into his skin firmly, just a pressure point to punctuate her words. “But I have never stopped loving you. And every time I walked out of those doors and left you behind, my heart broke again. You wouldn’t have ever had to make me stay. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”

Elijah’s breath stalls in his chest, and lets it out slowly, shakily. There’s a distant string of hope he lets himself pull on, just this once. Because she let him.

He meets her gaze and smiles softly, just for her. “Will you stay, then? I’m– I’m asking you, truly. Will you stay?”

She nods before he even finishes speaking and laughs quietly, the sound just for him. “Of course I will, Elijah. I’ll stay as long as you want me to,”

“Forever,”

“Forever, then. I’ll stay forever.”

#elijah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries fanfiction #kol mikaelson #the originals #fic recs #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson fanfiction #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson fluff #the originals fanfiction

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samatheia229 · 2 years

Text

Rise Ponderings:

The Turtles With Japanese Names

I've seen a lot of headcanons lately that support the "Rise boys' given names ARE their colours and they only got the artist names later on" narrative so I'd like to share my own.

Rise Splinter is undoubtedly very Americanised but I think that despite him forsaking his familial duties and old life, he’s still Japanese, is still a Hamato. So, subconsciously, he gave the boys Japanese names (of their corresponding colours, of course).

On that note, for all that Splinter has Celebrity-Who-Gives-Their-Kids-Unique-Names energy, I believe that he would still have enough decency to give them somewhat proper Japanese names not just 'Aka', 'Ao', 'Murasaki' and 'Orenji'.

However, for a period of time, the English-colour-names Splinter uses in the show would have been how addressed each other because they are, for the most part, an English-speaking household. Until an eight-year-old April came along insisting that those weren't 'real names', the turtles English names were 'Red', 'Blue' etc.

After adopting 'proper' English names, those became the common form of address, though Splinter still calls them by the English colours because it's a habit for him. They don't mind.

They don’t use their Japanese names often. It’d mostly be during serious-talk time, in official stuff, calling someone by their full name or teasing.

Ironically, in Splinter's (read: my) effort to not be a basic bitch, most of the boys' Japanese names are female. You can bet they tease the shit out of each other about it. The only one that actually takes offense to the teasing is Donnie whose name is very common and recognisable, so he always gets asked why he has it and/or if he realises that it's a girly name.

The Names

*NOTE: I'm using Kanji here. Fair warning, they could be written wrong, so if there are any Japanese speakers out there, do correct me.

Hamato 'Raphael' Shuiro

Shuiro 朱色 = vermilion

Raph’s name is the only one that isn’t a real given name but I thought it suited him.

Colour Symbolism:

Besides being one of the most dominant colors in Japanese culture, red is associated strongly with authority, strength, sacrifice, passion, joy, and happiness. It's also regarded as an auspicious color in Japan.

Frequently said to have Eldest Daughter Syndrome by the fandom, Raph is the ultimate authority among the brothers. He self-appoints as leader not because he necessarily wants to be, but because as the oldest and the biggest, he feels like it's his responsibility to look after the others. Which often takes great strength and sacrifice. Surface Pressure from Encanto, anyone?

Furthermore, red, specifically vermilion, is very symbolic in Japanese architecture:

Red is the color of torii – Shinto shrine gates – temples, and traditional daruma dolls. Red is said to scare away evil spirits and represent protection, strength, peace, and power.

All in all, very fitting for the big brother and family protector, if you ask me.

Hamato 'Leonardo' Aoi

Aoi 青い = blue

Aoi is a unisex name; meaning hollyhock flower when used for girls and blue for boys. I'm using the male meaning for Leo.

Colour Symbolism:

Blue commonly represents the sea and the sky (for which Japan is surrounded) and symbolizes purity, dignity, calmness, stability, security, and fidelity. Blue is also regarded as a lucky colour.

In this case, blue is rather in juxtaposition with Leo's personality, but looking at it from a franchise perspective, blue is indeed a leader's colour.

Back then, Japanese society was strictly hierarchical and displayed through the colour of their robes. Of the colors that were allowed for common folk, the color blue was work by higher ranking people. It symbolized wealth and prestige, while also remaining a color of the common folk.

That being said, Leo's a little different from his predecessors. Eventually, he will grow into the role of the leader we know and love. But even when he was unburdened from being leader, he was still the strategist. Leo's leadership in fights is a balance between what is uniquely Rise and the mission-mindset of the leaders in blue who came before him, strategies that are fun, wacky and maybe a little unorthodox yet still as effective for the team.

Hamato 'Donatello' Sumire

Sumire 菫 = violet

Sumire is usually a girl's name but I don’t think Splinter would’ve cared all that much about gender.

Donnie doesn't either and even likes his name, though it has caused him a lot of grief over the years. A lot of people think it's strange for a guy with his personality to have such a feminine name, and he's really sick of having to defend his name after introducing himself. Part of why he wanted 'Donnie'.

Colour Symbolism:

Like in the West, purple in Japanese culture is associated with royalty, as purple dye was rare and only available to those of a higher status. It can also reflect on nobility, spirituality, and wisdom.

Out of everyone, Donnie embraces his colour about the most. His clothes are purple, his tech is purple, his lab is bathed in purple lighting. Purple is Donnie's thing. This, in a way, ties in with the colour's exclusivity back then.

Flower Symbolism:

In Hanakotoba (flower language), the meaning of violet is sincerity, a small love, and a small bliss. Violets are a common gift, as they are an ideal way to show appreciation for a family member or friend and to express sincerity or love.

I think this is very Donnie. What he lacks in the emotional department, he makes up for through his tech. He creates things for his family, making them all kinds of personalised gizmo. Sometimes it results in disaster but the intention to help is there. Gift-giving is his love language.

Hamato 'Michelangelo' Mikan

Mikan 蜜柑 = tangerine

Mikan is a common Japanese girl name. Baby girls named "Mikan" are usually joyful, positive-thinkers, smiley and generally happy people.

Mikey loves his name and doesn't care that it's girly and cute, no matter how the others tease him about it. (SIDE NOTE: I swear the near-matching names wasn't intentional. I was just looking for a name that means mandarin orange for a bit I'm writing).

Colour Symbolism:

Orange is symbolic of love, happiness and the sun.

The youngest of the family, Mikey is optimistic and cheerful. He brings joy and colour to the household through his art. He encourages everyone to be express their love openly and always tries to be supportive.

Fruit Symbolism:

Besides good fortune, wealth and longevity, the fruit mikan can be tied to family because of its role in Japanese traditions. In Japan, there is a word “Kotatsu de Mikan”, which means:

A family sits around a kotatsu (a traditional Japanese table with an electric heater attached to the underside), watching TV and eating mikan — the traditional picture of a harmonious family seen in the wintertime.

TLDR; I really love how each turtle has a role to play in the family, how their respective colours are so appropriate for who they are as people, and I wanted their Japanese name to reflect that.

Mikey is all about family. He's the heart, always the peacemaker, always bringing everyone together.

----------

#the pics aren't mine #So many iterations of TMNT and no Japanese names?#A travesty #rottmnt #rottmnt raph #rottmnt leo #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt mikey #japanese names #rottmnt headcanons

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radiant-reid · 2 years

Note

hopping on the hot wife bandwagon… can you reason a blurb of when it’s y/n and spencer’s wedding day and while they’re having dinner the team finally decided to ask the question they’ve been dying to ask forever, “so how the hell did you to get together?” and they all found out little spencer is actually smooth and flirty

yessss. also this is meant to have the same vibe as JJ's wedding

HIM ^^ always him

Sitting around a large table in Rossi's backyard with the BAU family is exactly where she wants to be for her first meal being married to the love of her life. It's peaceful, personal and nice to see all of her husband's colleagues relaxed for once.

Spencer's as perfect as the day they met, hair parted down the middle and held in place with gel rather than curls messy on top of his head. A thing that's never changed is how in awe of her he is, speechless whenever he looks at her for too long and constantly wondering how he'd ended up with everything he ever wanted sitting next to him.

"You doing okay, handsome?" She whispers, touching his shoulder as she leans over.

He's literally never been better. "Yeah, of course."

"No regret yet?" She jokes.

Spencer grins widely, shaking his head. "Never."

Before they can continue having their moment of intimacy, Emily draws their attention away from each other. "So I've got to know, how did Spencer actually manage to get with someone as hot as you?" She's definitely had a few too many, judging by her slurred speech and bluntness, but the team can't deny they're all thinking it. "No offense, Spence. She is way out of your league, though."

He scoffs playfully. "Thanks." He knows it's true, too, no one has the warm glow and gorgeousness that she has, but he's more than reassured that she's only in love with him.

"Tell us the story." Penelope insists also.

Y/n frowns. "I'm not sure there's much to tell." She admits. It had been one of the best days of her life, of course, but it was also probably the most ordinary day she'd ever had in her time knowing Spencer Reid.

"There's got to be something." JJ tries to nudge her to spill because none of them can imagine how it happened.

"Well, it was at a bar." Y/n starts, immediately stopped by the confused looks on everyone else's faces. "What?"

"Spencer at a bar? Without one of us dragging him there?" Morgan asks incredulously.

Spencer laughs, jumping in to explain that night from his perspective. "You did drag me there." Spencer points out. "You just left early... Jasmine, I think her name was?"

Everyone laughs at that, knowing Morgan's tendencies to be a ladies' man. "Spencer was, I don't know, suave, charming, smooth." She's looking for the right word, but each one doesn't seem impressive enough to describe him.

He's looking at her with puppy dog eyes, totally love-sick. "And handsome." He adds.

"The most handsome." She amends, but when she turns to see the team's reaction, she's shocked by how shocked they look.

"Did you just use the word suave to describe Spencer, or did I imagine that?" Penelope asks, her mouth lingering open. None of them can imagine it. Sure, he's endearing with his awkwardness, but he's terrible with women he's attracted to, to the point of aversion.

They also don't imagine her standards were low, not when she's so immaculate, which makes it even more puzzling that Spencer managed to land her.

Y/n nods. "Yeah." She answers. "He totally charmed me. Honestly, I worried he was a playboy, but I don't think I had any reason to worry."

"You definitely did not." Morgan agrees passionately before he can help himself. "I saw him flirt with a girl in a bar once, he sucked." He exposes Spencer.

"What?" Y/n asks, tipping her head to the side to look at her husband. "What happened to I never do this?" She presses him, voice dropping lower to mimic his from that night.

He holds up his hands defensively. "Technically, I was only successful once."

"When you divorce," Emily interrupts the playful retort Y/n's about to make. "Can I take you out, Y/n?"

Spencer giggles with Y/n at that, and the whole team joins in on the laughter when Morgan jumps in with his offer. "Nuh-uh, if she were going to date anyone else here, it would be me."

While they argue, she rests her head on Spencer's shoulder and whispers that she loves him and his smile only grows bigger.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid x you #spencer reid blurb

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adoreeenina · 3 months

Text

I wanna be yours - Ch. 13

(Recom! Miles Quaritch x Sully! Reader x Recom! Lyle Wainfleet)

(Warning: Polyamorous relationship. Angst. Enemies to Lovers. Slow burn. Falling in love. Redemption arc. Canon deaths (but not really). Romance. Smut. Jealousy. Threesome. Anal(both F & M receiving). Mention of suicide, self harm, depression, anxiety. PTSD. Feelings being revealed. Jake and Neytiri not being good parents to reader. Reader being a motherly figure to spider.)

~~~~~~

Lyle peace was disturbed by his earpiece crackling and hearing the voice of Miles to check on them, seeing as you’ve been gone for a while. With a groan Lyle woke you up from your short slumber.

You lead Lyle to the river to wash off the stench of each other. Lyle of course didn’t like that, not one bit, he liked that you smell of him and wished you didn’t have to wash it off but he knows it’s for the best. He didn’t need the others to know what happened between the two of you.

Lyle being a gentleman, helps you in the water and massage your thighs and hips.

It’s been so long he has been with a woman, even as a human he hasn’t been with one. Since arriving to Pandora from Earth, he never once had the time to sleep around and it wasn’t because he didn’t want to, more like his Colonel had him do the randomest assignments, him being second in command couldn’t say no.

Not to mention the rule they had to not sleep with your coworkers.

Spending so much time together could lead a lot of sexual tension and feelings you didn’t know would have.

Especially when alcohol is involved, one thing lead to another, they both wake up in the same bed. Lyle remembers he tried to avoid Miles any chance he could, but it was hard when he was your boss.

Surprisingly it was Miles who made the first move and looked for Lyle. And when he managed to find him, he asked Lyle out to dinner at his chambers. Feelings were long overdue between the two of them.

Lyle guess they had a perk for them both being men and not worry about an accidental pregnancy.

Too bad Miles broke that rule first before having a committed relationship with Lyle.

“Was I too rough?” He ask. Not taking his eyes off the apex of your thighs.

“No. I’m just sore” you respond as you use the Yursyulang, gripping the flower and stroking it softly over his muscular chest and shoulders.

“Why didn’t you want to do that bond thing with me?” He ask. You pause your movement and look up at Lyle, hearing the obvious insecurity in his voice.

“Lyle.” You sigh, already pulling yourself away from him, Lyle panics thinking he offended you.

“Hey!” He whispers as he holds onto your hips a little tighter, not letting you have the chance to step away from him. “I’m not gonna get offended or anything. I just want you to be honest with me”

“It’s best if we don’t, atleast for now” you gently caress his jaw, “Besides where I’m from you’re still considered a child” you tease.

“Excuse me? Do I look like a child to you?” You had to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing when you hear the obvious offensive tone in his voice.

“Lyle, I didn’t mean it that way. Back at home, you’ll still be considered a child untill you complete your Uniltaron. Dream hunt. After that you’re considered an adult”

There was a short moment of silence between you. Lyle just watches you as you continue scrubbing the flower all over his body.

He can get used to this. It feels so modernistic to him, so right. You look so beautiful in all your glory. To him you’re one of a kind. You look just like a dream. The prettiest girl he’d ever seen

He wish he could’ve had something like this when he was human but then he remembers he did. With Miles, till it all went down hill.

He wonders what could’ve happened if Socorro didn’t get pregnant, would Miles and him still be together? Would they be back on earth, possibly married? but soon as the thought appears, it instantly went away when the image of Spider appears in his mind.

Lyle adores Spider, of course human Lyle tried to raise him as his own before he got himself killed during the war.

Spider has gotten close with him and Miles. Something human Lyle always wanted.

If only Miles wasn’t a prick, things would’ve turned out differently, but if they had… would Lyle be with you like this? Would he have met you at all? What about Spider?

“You did the Dream hunt yourself?” Lyle breaks the silence. Wanting a break from his thoughts.

“Yes.” You answer. You cups your hand in the water and pours it over the oily residue left by the flower petals.

“So if I do it, I’m considered an adult?”

“Yes, that’s right”

“What happens during it?” His ears stand at attention, waiting for your explanation. He never heard of this, than again his human self didn’t care much of the Navi culture or traditions.

“During the ceremony, you will be stung by an Arachnoid then you will swallow a glow worm. Once that is done. You will be one of the people” you smile up at him.

“just like that? That sounds easy enough” that comment makes you frown, if only he knew.

“It isn’t. You will be in excruciating pain and often experience near-death. Often times Na’vi do not make it”

“Shit” he breathes out anxiously.

“My grandmother told me my father almost didn’t make it during his dream hunt”

“Seriously?” Lyle eyes widen in surprise.

“Mhmm. His heart stopped beating for a while” you reply as you take your turn with the flower. Rubbing the petals over your skin.

After a short while, Lyle grabs your wrist, stopping your movements. In confusion, you look up at Lyle seeing him with the most shit eating from you had ever seen. You groan already knowing what coming.

“My heart stops beating every time I look at you” he cheekily says, he leans down and presses his lips to yours briefly and smiles tenderly.

“Lyle! That’s so cringy” You blow out an exasperated breath as you pull your face away when he tries to kiss your lips again, only to kiss your cheek instead.

“C’mon that was a good one” he grunts when you avoid his lips. He lets go of your wrist and possessively wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you against his chest.

“It’s really not” you jest.

“C’mere baby” Lyle cooes, threading his fingers through your braid and pulling your face closer to his.

“No, get away from me” you grin, turn your face away to avoid his attempts, teasing him.

“C’mere” Lyle lips move on to kiss along the shell of your ear. A shudder courses through you when he tugs the sensitive lobe between his sharp teeth.

Pushing you against the edge with his hands on your hips. He spins your body around to have your back to him, and bends you over slightly on the edge of the river.

A shiver runs down your spine as the hand stays light, and gentle - tracing the length of your arms, and slowly gliding down the curve of your back.

Your breath catches, and you're laden with anticipation as Lyle’s touches stay grazing. You nearly hold your breath as his hands finally reach round your hips, climbing slowly back up your body until they're once more on your shoulders, pulling you gently back into his large, firm chest.

"Fuuck." He growled out, burying his nose in your hair on the side of your head, his hot breath fanning past your ear as he breathed heavily.

It’s no secret that Lyle adores you, but you’ve learned over the course of your “capture” that he is particularly fond of the way you smell. Your natural essence of spiced, sugared vanilla draws him in like a moth to a flame.

Your scent is like a drug. It calls to him – like a siren’s song – demanding that his primal instincts give in and help himself to his next hit.

Leaning back you can feel Lyle’s erection pressing into you from behind, but you ignore it for now, enjoying the feeling of his slick body against yours as his hands slide down your shoulders, and to your breasts.

Your thighs clench of their own accord, your empty walls clenching around nothing. Apparently your body was just as hungry for him as he was for you.

"Lyle, we don’t have time. We have to go back with the others," you say breathlessly as Lyle begins to knead them in his palms, gently rolling your nipples between the pads of his fingers.

Fuck that feels so good!

"They can wait," Lyle whispers huskily, kissing your neck. "I want to take advantage of the time we have now"

A smile spreads across your face as two strong hands turn your body around and warm lips find yours, sending tingles down your spine.

Lyle’s tongue parts your lips and finds your own tongue, beginning a dance much more skillful than the first your mouths had shared.

You let out a low, involuntary moan and Lyle swallows it entirely - rewarding you by sucking you bottom lip between his teeth and giving it a tug.

His hips rock into yours as your hands find his chest, running over his tight pectorals and rippling abs. You relish the feeling of his muscles beneath your finger tips, and pull your lips from Lyle’s, desperate to really look at the body you hold in your hands.

As you push Lyle away, you allow the glow from the plants surrounding shine of the water on Lyle’s skin to highlight to contours of his lean figure. You stare in awe at the beauty before you, and search for any signs of the hardships he has endured. But where you expect to find traces of a war-bitten body, you find nothing but cerulean. A flawless finish.

Lyle cups the side of your face, traces his thumb across your cheek as he admires your beauty. He can never get enough of it. He looks deeply into your eyes, he adores your eyes, he could never get enough of them. A sky full of stars and he was staring at you. He pulls your face against his to connect your lips.

The moment your mouths meet, Lyle shatters.

You can feel his heart race beneath the hand you have pressed against his chest, and a breathy moan escapes his lips as he lifts a single leg around his waist, spreading you open as his cock nudges your entrance.

Your tail wraps around his left thigh, it tightens its grip, subconsciously tugging him closer.

“Lyle” you gasp as the head of his cock presses against your opening. "Fuck," you choke out, breath catching as your pussy clenches, desperately seeking to be filled. Neither of you pay attention your surroundings or the sound of footsteps coming your way.

“What are you guys tak-HOLY SHIT!” Lopez cried, covering his eyes. “LYLE, WHAT THE FUCK!”

“LOPEZ!” Lyle scrambles to pull the head of him out of you. On instinct, Lyle pulls you behind him to cover your modesty. He doesn’t like the idea of anyone seeing what’s his. Especially since Lopez has being shamelessly eyeing you from

Lopez looks at you and Lyle with wide eyes, clearly surprised to see your state of affairs.

“Turn around, Lopez!” you shout over Lyle’s shoulder.

With an eyeroll, Lopez turns his back to the both of you. Lyle quickly jumps out of the water and helps you up. He puts on his boxers first before he tries to help you tie on your top and loincloth.

“If I knew this was going to happen, I would’ve volunteered to come instead” Lopez shouts over his shoulder. Lyle growls clearly unamused by Lopez idiocy.

You give a gentle squeeze of assurance on Lyle’s forearm, one look at your gentle eyes, his shoulders sags from being tense by Lopez comment.

Once you and Lyle finished dressing, Lopez turns back around with a shit eating grin.

“Keep dreaming!” You growl, your face flush from embarrassment. With a glare his way, you cross your arms across your chest.

“I will! For the rest of my life. You’re the finest woman I ever met” Lopez unfazed by your penetrating glare, kept his gaze on you as they fall on your hips, seeing the clear finger print marks bruising your blue skin

“Lopez! Do you ever shut up, man!” Lyle pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly annoyed.

“Not when I just walked into something like that. Is this why you two took an hour here?” Lopez ask as he points at the two of you. Lyle sighs before looking at you.

What the fuck is he going to do?

“Lopez, can you keep this to yourself?” Lyle ask, it’s stupid of him to even ask since Lopez does have a big mouth but what other choice does he have.

He can’t have the other know and be reported back to Ardmore. You and Spider are his top priority right now.

Lopez looks at Lyle in surprise. Lopez doesn’t do well with secrets, he never has, he doesn’t like the pressure of it.

“What? You want me to keep this a secret? Aww man! Lyle, you know I don’t do well with secrets” poor Lopez is stressing.

“Well you should’ve thought of that before coming out here” Lyle retorts through clench teeth, his tail sways agitatingly behind him.

“Hey! No seas mamon, güey! Tell that to the Colonel, he ordered me to come find your ass and look what that got me!” Lopez defends himself.

“Shit!” Lyle curses under his breath.

“Atleast it wasn’t Spider. He almost volunteered to come if it wasn’t for Quaritch sending me instead” Lopez shrugs. Your eyes widen at that.

It would’ve been the end of the world for you if it was Spider who walked in on you instead of Lopez.

“Just keep your mouth shut about this, alright? I don’t need the others to know our business”

Lopez groans before agreeing, “fine, I got you” you watch silently as they both fist bump each other.

“C’mon baby” Lyle beacons you closer, “we’re heading back” Lyle bends over and grabs his vest. He slides it over his head as the three of you starts making your way back.

You walk ahead of them, Lopez and Lyle a few feet behind you as they look around, admiring the flora. Quietly talking among themselves.

“Are you fucking loco in the head, Lyle?” Lopez whispers. Lyle mentally cringe, he knew he probably shouldn’t have acted on his impulse. But he had to have you, one or another, he just had to. If it wasn’t for you pushing his hand away from your queue, he probably would’ve connected his kuru with yours.

“Lopez, this ain’t none of your business, man” Lyle sigh tiredly.

“None of my business?” Lopez is in disbelief at his Corporal, “dude I just walked in on you almost fucking our “prisoner”” Lopez does air quotes with his fingers.

Lyle frowns, “first off, don’t call her that..”

“Wha-“

“Second…” Lyle cuts Lopez off, “We weren’t “almost” fucking” Lyle sighed, scratching an eyebrow with his thumb, getting annoyed with his fucking ass-hat of a friend.

“The fuck does that mean?” Lyle sighs, Lopez doesn’t take his gaze away from Lyle’s side profile till it clicked. Lyle cringed when Lopez stops walking and looks at him with wide eyes.

“Oh. My. God. Lyle, tell me you didn’t” Lyle side glares Lopez for his accusations.

Lyle glances at you, walking ahead of them, before looking at Lopez, clearly wanting this conversation to end.

“Lopez-“

“No, Lyle. Tell me. Did you or did you not mate with her?” Lopez brows furrowed. He’s not asking cause he’s mad, he’s asking cause he’s worried for the well being of his friend and you, the Navi woman he has grown quite close to. Yes he has joked about having a crush on you but that’s just it. A crush.

“No, Lopez. We didn’t” Lopez hears the dejected tone in his voice and it makes him exhale a groan.

“What about Miles?” Lyle raises his with a raised brow at Lopez

“What about him?”

“Man…” Lopez shakes his head in disbelief, “you really are a fucking knucklehead.” He smiles at Lyle’s jumbled face, “The team and I aren’t as naive as you and the Colonel think” Lopez jokingly punch Lyle’s shoulder.

“Que rabiosa” Lopez shouts at you, noticing your weird walk, and it made him laugh historically.

You look behind you seeing Lyle glaring at Lopez and shoves his shoulder.

“Lopez! Shut up, man!”

“Alright, alright, jeez. I see you’re frustrated, is it because you didn’t cum?”

“Lopez, keep moving before I beat the shit out of you”

——

“Took you long enough” says Miles as he watches the three of you come into view, his eyebrow raise when he sees you wince when you sat down on a fallen log, “what’s wrong, darlin?”

“Nothing” you wave him off, Lyle sits next to you and offers you some fish, you take it with a smile. Lopez sits the other side of you.

Spider watches the interaction between you and Lyle as he eats. He found it odd when just this morning, you were ignoring him and now you two… Spider eyes widen in a realization, causing him to choke on his food.

“Spider” Miles lightly scolds him as he gently pat on Spider’s back, “we talked about you scarfing down your food too fast”

Both you and Lyle turn to look at Spider in worrisome. Spider waves off everyone’s concern, making eye contact with you. He gives you that look that you know all to well.

Oh shit! He knows!

“Where you going?” You ask Spider when you see him stand up.

“I’m tired. I’m going to sleep” he answers with a yawn, you see him grab the hammock from Miles bag.

“Let me set it up” you say with a wince when you try to stand.

“Baby, let me. You sit down and eat” Lyle grabs you by the wrist to gently guide you back down. Lyle stands up and dust his pants before following Spider up a tree to set up the hammock.

But before Spider could climb the tree, Spider gives you a look, that look, telling you, you better follow him and tell him everything. You gulp nervously. He was fake yawning.

Oh eywa, please help me and not let Spider kill me!

“Amor is very beautiful, ain’t it mami?” Lopez teases you as he bumps his shoulder against yours.

“What?” You blink at him.

“Love. Not only do you have one man but you have two” Lopez emphasizes by holding up two fingers. You frown.

“Lopez, where are you going with this? I don’t have two men” You glance around and feel grateful when no one seems to be listening on the nonsense Lopez is spilling. Two men? What the hell is he talking about?

“You heard me, mami” the man grins, scooching over and leaning forward to look at your face, “not only do you have Lyle wrapped around your finger but you also have our fearless Colonel” he hummed suggestively and you lean back a bit.

“I think you’re seeing things, Lopez” you suggest with an eyeroll.

“I’m seeing the way you look at them” he hums and voice turning gentle.

“Lopez-“

“Anyone with eyes could see that. We could also see the way they look at you” Lopez smiles softly and your eyes darted around, landing on the ground.

“Don’t you have someone else to bother?” At that Lopez laughs loudly and you drew your lips into a thin line in embarrassment.

“Lopez, has your mother not teach you not to bother a lady?” Lyle grumbles with a raised brow as he walks towards the two of you, glaring at Lopez.

“Oh you mean your lady?” The Latino wiggles his brows and Lyle furrowed his, drawing his lips into a thin line as he walked over and kicked Lopez in the chest, throwing him backwards off the log.

"Ow, pinche baboso!" He called out, scrambling to his knees to look at Lyle in offense.

"Go bother someone else” was Lyle’s reply, dismissing the man on the ground as he instead slung his leg over the log to your right, sitting down sideways so he could face you.

"Protective much.." Lopez grumbles in a murmur as he gets up, dusting himself off before hopping back over the log to continue to bother someone else, poor Mansk, but not before sending you a wink.

“That asshole” Lyle mumbles, you giggle at him before looking around the small group.

They all seem to be talking among themselves about thing you don’t understand. Miles seems to be the only one that looks distracted.

He seems to be deep in thought, and it worries you.

“Is he okay?” You whisper to Lyle. Lyle picks up his head to look around then back at you with a confused expression.

“Who?”

“Miles” you answer. At your verification, Lyle instantly look at Miles. You see the flicker of anxiousness on his face.

“You’re his friend, why don’t you go talk to him” you suggest.

Lyle sighs heavily, “Baby-“

“It’s okay.” You cut him off. It’s obvious he is worried about Miles, but he’s apprehensive about leaving you on your own. Which you appreciate. “You go. I’m exhausted anyways. I’m going to head to the hammock with Spider” you place the leaf down beside you.

“I tired you out, baby?” Lyle asks and looks with a mischievous smirk up at you. You shake your head, with a quiet whimper, you manage to get up on your own. Lyle subtly reach his hand in case you stumble or fall.

“Don’t let it go to your head, oeyä tìyawn” (my love) you shove his head playfully with a small smile. Lyle sways slightly backwards to exaggerate you pushing him.

“Wait…” Lyle blinks, “what does that mean?”

You shrug your shoulders with a small grin. You step over the log to make your way to the tree.

“Baby, wait- what does it mean?!” Lyle shouts at you.

“Goodnight Lyle” you wave your hand, not looking behind you. You giggle when you hear Lyle groan in frustration.

He should’ve paid attention during your lessons, instead of gawking at you.

With a grunt, you hoist yourself on a brunch and start climbing towards your shared hammock. Right when you’re about to reach, Spider jumps out.

“What the fuck did you two do?!”

You shriek, almost falling backwards. Grabbing your bearings, you catch your balance. You take a deep breath of relief before glaring at Spider for almost falling to your possible death.

“Darlin? You alright up there?”

You turn your glare away from Spider and look over the branch to gaze down at Miles. Miles is looking up at you with his hands on his hips with his regular scowl but the flick of his tail gives him away. your gaze soften.

“Yeah, I’m okay, Colonel” you shout back.

His gaze seems to linger on you, eyes flickering over your face and tail flicking erratically behind him. His lips seem to twitch up just slightly at the corners. Eventually, Quaritch nods in acquiescence before moving toward the group.

“Alright, sweetheart.”

You watch as Miles makes his way to sit down next to Lyle who seems to be deep in conversation with him.

“Ahem”

Hearing Spider, you almost forgot why you’re up there in the first place. You look at Spider with deadpan expression, almost glaring.

“Spider, what the fuck. I almost feel, nga vonvä’” (you asshole) you sneer down at Spider, who seems unfazed which annoys you. A lot. You sit down criss cross on the branch closest to the hammock.

“Tell. Me . Everything.” You throw your head back with a groan, it’s embarrassing enough that Lopez caught you in the act, now Spider wants you to tell him.

“There’s nothing to tell, Spider” you avoid the topic.

“Really? So you being gone for almost and hour has nothing to do with the bruises on your hips, which by the way looks like the size of Lyle’s hand, is nothing?”

You stare at him harshly for a moment longer before sighing and shake your head in acquiescence. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t something all that serious anyways. Kind of. Atleast to you.

Spider inhales deeply when he looks away from you. You almost feel like you disappointed him, but why do you feel such a way?

But Spider doesn’t feel that way, he’s worried, scared even. If it were in a different situation, he would’ve been happy for you.

“Did you mate with him?” You tug your bottom lip in apprehension, you don’t blame Spider for asking, but it doesn’t make you feel less embarrassed.

You sigh, knowing this conversation was going to happen soon. "No. But I think he wanted to." You say, knowing he wasn't going to accept that.

“What do you mean?”

You absentmindedly play with your songcord to keep your hands busy.

“When we ~ahem~ about to… you know” you wave your hand around dismissively.

Spider took a minute till it hit him what you meant. His face scrunch up in disgusted and groan.

“Ew”

“Spider!” You shout offensively before pouting.

“Okay. Okay.” Spider dramatically takes a deep breath, shaking his head to clear out the image he did not what to think about, “I’m sorry, continue”

You roll your before continuing, “he grabbed my queue, I saw the look in his eyes, he wanted to connect our kurus but I stopped him”

“Why?”

“Cause he’s not considered as an adult to the people”

“Bullshit” He says.

You let your songcord fall on your thigh and take a deep breath. “What do you want me to say, Spider?”

“The truth. Don’t give that bullshit”

“Like what? Tell you that I’m in love with Lyle? That I fell for him?” You frown, “Yes Spider, I did.” Your fingered twitch, “Yes we’ve… gotten intimate, I wanted to officially mate but…” you close your eyes

Spider waits, watching you think before speaking, “But what?”

“It didn’t feel right, okay?” You look down at your palms.

“Why not?”

You shrug, “I don’t know”

Spider leans back on the tree and crosses his arms across his chest. "You’re in love with my dad too. Aren’t you.” He says, and it's not a question.

“Yeah”

“You fell for them, knowing they’re here to kill Jake and take over Pandora”

“I know” you say as you continue to play with your songcord.

“You know this won’t end well”

“I know” you say again.

“And yet you fell for them”

“Yes” you sigh.

“I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree”

Your head spins towards him and this odd shift in tone. “What?" I say with a confused chuckle.

He smiles at you. “I know the story, Y/n. Neytiri was forced to teach Jake the way of the people. And along the way they both fell for each other. You’re somewhat in a similar situation… that has to tell you something”

You chuckle, “yeah, that I’m an idiot like my mom”

Spider brings his hand up and smacks the side your head.

“Hey!” You say, recoiling from him.

“No, you Skxáwng. Maybe history will repeat itself, and they’ll change their ways. Like Jake did.” he says, and you’re honestly just relieved that he isn't upset with you.

Change their ways? If only. But… you have seen the dramatic change in every single one of them. Lyle did say he doesn’t care about the mission. But do the rest feel that way too?

Then you remember… the Atokirina.

You lean closer to Spider, lowering your voice, “The great mother gave me a sign”

Spider eyes widen, “what?”

You bite you bottom lip, anxiously, “an Atokirina landed on both Lyle and Miles.”

“Eywa sees them” Spider gasp, awestruck.

“Look, I would never question the great mother’s doing. But I have yet to understand what she sees in them”

“Didn’t you just said Lyle doesn’t care about the mission anymore?”

“Yes but-“

“If you made Lyle change, who to say you don’t make the others change too?”

You stare at him in disbelief, waiting for his expression to crack. But he is clearly serious.

“Spider, that isn’t up to me, it’s up to them if they…”

“You don’t see it? Do you? They’re all in a constant turmoil in their minds.”

“But…”

“Eywa holds all her children in her heart. And that includes them. Whether they see it or not. They do. I see how much they’re starting to see the beauty of Pandora”

Your eyes cast downwards, not knowing how to respond to that. But you do know to you feel.

You’re scared.

Oh how your parents would kill you for being in this situation. Oh your poor grandmother. First her daughter mates with a demon and now you… falling for two demons. What would she think.

Spider reach for your hand, your head snaps up, “I know you’re scared. So am I. But if the Eywa touch them…” Spider cringe at the word, making you giggle, “wait no, I- that sounds wrong. Let me try again,” he clears his throat, “IF Eywa approves of them, then she knows” he assures you.

You didn’t even realize you were crying till you felt tears drop to your thighs. Spider sees and gently pulls on your wrist. You lean down and he wraps his arms around your shoulders, comforting you. It was an arkward angle but it was comforting none the less.

“So… Lopez knows… doesn’t he”

“Yeah” you laugh. Spider gives you a tight squeeze before letting you go, “he walked in on us”

Spider eyes widen, “good thing my dad denied me going. I didn’t need to see that” Spider shakes his head.

“Yeah” you laugh, “Lyle made him promise he won’t say anything.”

“You think he won’t?”

“I really hope so” you exasperates. You and Spider laughs.

“I’m actually tired so, I’m going to sleep for reals” you jokingly push Spiderto give you room on the hammock.

“Fine.” Spider moves before looking at you seriously, “did you atleast bathe first before coming here? I do not need you smelling like sex”

“Spider!” You blush, smacking his harm, Spider laughs.

(I’m sorry again for my absence. I do feel guilty on leaving like that. I feel like this is more like a filler, if you know what I mean. I promise the next chapter would be better I promise. Also please comment and let me know. You guys know I love to hear what you think☺️❤️)

Taglist: @alexandra-001 @commanderrivercc-3628 @henhouse-horrors @certainkittenpeach @multi-fandom-rando @zzedah @mrstargayen09 @loaksulluyswife @averagehorrorgirl @baybaybear1 @deathlypink @ratchetprime211

#i wanna be yours #miles quaritch x reader #lyle wainfleet x reader #recom lyle wainfleet #recom miles quaritch #polyamarous #avatar the way of water #spider x reader #miles quaritch #polyamory

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edenfenixblogs · 3 months

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Hi, I have a question and you seem like a really balanced person, so here goes: I want to join a drag king collective, and I’m so excited about it, but the king leading it has some Interesting views. It’s the kind of thing where it’s constant “fuck Zionists” and what feels like extremely performative activism (Palestinian flag in bio but no actual fundraising/peace efforts, posting misinformation/irresponsible rhetoric etc.) I’m scared that if I join it I’ll be treated different, and even more scared that my friends will think the antisemitism justified (they aren’t great at understanding what antisemitism looks like these days). Idk what to do about the fear of someone being antisemitic because I don’t want it to stop me from doing what I want, but I also know it’ll devastate me if it does happen. If you can offer any insight I’ll be very grateful.

Hi friend!

I'm really glad you reached out to me. Not because I pretend to know all the answers, but because I love that we can all rely on each other during this time.

Unfortunately, whether you sign up for this is ultimately a matter of your own personal priorities and how you are prone to handle confrontation.

Personally, if it was me, I would join. I'm not afraid of defending myself (but I very much used to be, so no shame if you're not there yet). If I wanted to explore my gender identity through performance (if indeed that is what you are doing. I've never been personally drawn to perform drag, so I cannot pretend to know exactly why one might start. But I don't think I'm out of line to assume that it involves some kind of exploration or critique of gender both personally and societally) I certainly wouldn't let antisemites be the reasons I didn't go for it.

If the Anti-Zionist jerk starts coming at you, you can simply say "OK, great. Real quick question: What's a Zionist?" And watch him squirm to say anything real or substantive other than "a Jew." He might say, "They're basically Nazis!" or "They're people who want Palestinians to suffer!" or some other confidently incorrect hyperbolic statement. If he does so, you can say, "Oh! Well, then that's definitely not what I am," and move on.

If he says something slightly more substantive, like, "They're people who think Jews should get to take land from Arabs/Palestinians in order to have a Jewish ethnostate!" You can use the same response as above. But you can also say, "Oh, weird. That's definitely not what I thought it was. Which Zionist Jews have said this, exactly? Cuz I heard it was something completely different." Remember, their goal isn't actually to educate you or help anyone or even to provide limited but factual information. The goal is to shame you into aligning with their self-righteous point of view. That is not an effective tactic when you respond with QUESTIONS instead of outright CORRECTIONS. Making people explain themselves is a great way to defang a bad faith accusation like that.

Finally, they might say, "It's someone who supports Israel." In this case, either of the above methods will work. Or you could question even further. Here's an example of a chat:

You: Supports Israel how?

Jerkface: They want Biden to use our tax dollars to fund a genocide!

You: Oh, well then I'm definitely not a Zionist.

Jerkface: No, you don't understand! It's people who think that Jews can only be safe in a settler colonial apartheid ethnostate that justified its existence by crying about the Holocaust.

You: Well then I'm still not a Zionist. I don't know why you're assuming these things about me. But people should generally cry about the Holocaust. It was really bad thing that people did to Jews. Do you not think the Holocaust is a big deal?

Jerkface: Of course I think it was a big deal. That's why we all have to condemn THIS genocide. The Jews are the Nazis now.

You: I don't know. I don't think that' show Nazism works. But I definitely don't like genocide. If liking genocide makes a Zionist, then I'm definitely not whatever you're accusing me of.

Jerkface: No! I'm just saying that Zionists don't want a ceasefire. They're trying to kill all the Palestinians.

You: I don't know what to tell you then. Because that's still not me. Of course I want Hamas and Israel to both stop bombing each other.

Jerkface: No, Palestine is JUSTIFIED in bombing Israelis because of the oppression.

You: I think its weird that you're conflating Palestinians with Hamas. Are you saying that Palestinian civilians are bombing Israel as as a protest tactic? I thought for sure that Hamas, a terrorist organization, was the group responsible for Anti-Israeli violence. Personally, I've always though that most Palestinians just want to live in peace and don't support terrorism and violence. I don't know why it would harm Palestinians to suggest that both Israel and Hamas should end this conflict diplomatically rather than with violence.

Jerkface: Right! That's why we need to tell Biden to call for a ceaseefire!

You: OK, but I still don't know if you're saying Israel should just stop firing or that Israel and Hamas should stop bombing. I definitely want everyone to stop bombing each other. But I'm not really sure why Hamas would care about what Biden says.

etc...

I call this the "Rabbi method," because when you go to a rabbi, they never really give you an answer to your question. They answer with other questions designed to get them to see their own answer.

Either Hamas is a terrorist group unfairly targeting Israeli civilians and launching bombs into civilian territories--something that is clearly bad and which makes average Palestinian civilians innocent victims (this is the truth btw) that require both Hamas and Israel too lay down their arms. OR Palestinians and Hamas are interchangeable terms and the ongoing oppression of Palestinians have driven them to violent, offensive, armed resistance--which you may or may not agree with as a revolutionary tactic (To be clear, this is NOT TRUE OF PALESTINIANS. PALESTINIANS ARE NOT TERRORISTS AND DO NOT DESERVE TO BE BOMBED). Palestine IS NOT HAMAS. Hamas is bombing Israeli civilians.

Israel is retaliating with extreme force and prejudice against a terrorist organization in a way that is devastating the lives and futures of Palestinian Civilians, who very much deserve for all sides to lay down their weapons and address their mutual grievances diplomatically and responsibly. What is occurring right now is a messy, ugly, brutal war that is killing and traumatizing all civilians in the Levant. And a one-sided ceasefire leaves the side that ceases firing dead. A ceasefire means that EVERYONE must cease firing.

Unless Jerkface has a plan for how to ensure the safety of Palestinian civilians from Hamas that also includes Israeli safety from Hamas, asking for Israelis to simply lay down all their weapons without any guarantee of safety is asking for a nation of mostly Jews to die without putting up a fight. And wanting Arab Israelis and also Jews not to die is not what Zionism means. It's not even what pro-Israel means. That's just called not being violently antisemitic, actually.

Israelis aren't mindless Zionist Nazi Monsters who get off on killing Palestinian babies. Palestinians aren't Noble Savages who have never done anything wrong as individual people and who are inherently morally superior to every single Israeli because they were born Palestinian. Both Israelis and Palestinians are complex, global micro-minorities who have both perpetrated tremendous harm to one another over the course of several decades, and neither group is going anywhere. Neither group deserves for its people to die. Neither group is only "worth helping" if western onlookers categorize them as "innocent" and "good." If someone's activism isn't geared toward respecting the inherent dignity of Palestinians and Israelis regardless of either group's history, then that person is not engaging in activism. If someone is asking you to support that cause because their chosen cause involves perfect cinnamon rolls being targeted by pure evil enemies, then they are not asking you to join them in activism. They are not even asking you to join them in a political reality. What they are asking is for you to join their toxic fandom.

And reducing this conflict down to simplistic fandom rhetoric is not going to help anyone and is frankly offensive to all Jews, Israelis, and Palestinians--all of whom deserve to be seen for the traumatized, suffering, imperfect people they are.

People don't earn support by being good. They inherently deserve support, because they are people.

All that said, maybe it's not emotionally useful for you to engage in this group. Maybe this type of conflict is too much for you. That's OK, too.

And while I would never let antisemitism take away an opportunity for me to fulfill a dream, I will say that my experience of Antisemitism during this time is 100000000% responsible for making me realize that the dreams I had before this experience need to evolve. I no longer wish to be in the town where I live. I wish to be home with my family closeby, because when the chips are down, that's who matters. The idea of moving back to my home state was unthinkable to me before October. Now? I cannot get out of here fast enough. There's nothing I want that is exclusive to my current location anymore. The community I thought I'd built for myself is gone. And while antisemitism didn't take them from me, it sure as fuck showed me that I never had it in thee first place.

If you're going to join this collective, be sure its worth the fight. And if it's not worth the fight, then look for a place that is. Exploring your gender identity freely should not come at the cost of living your ethnic and religious identities openly. Ever.

Don't trade one closet for another. You deserve more than that. We all do.

hope that helps @kit-chaos-doodle

#ask me stuff #kit-chaos-doodle #jumblr #advice #antisemitism #leftist antisemitism

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