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starshipsofstarlord · 11 months ago

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parental advisory | daryl dixon

summary. at the beginning of the strenuous outbreak, you never thought there would ever be the opportunity to build a family. it was never safe, that was until you reached commonwealth. all you want is a baby of your own, but you are unsure if daryl would agree due to the impractical risks and unspoken label of your relationship together (5.8k)

warnings. smut, unprotected sex, cumming inside, fingering, slight handjob, some angst, fluff, reciprocated love, mentions of death, swearing, scars (on both reader and daryl), petnames

MINORS DNI (18+), I DO NOT CONTROL YOUR CONSUMPTION ON THIS BLOG 👻

divider credits. @cafekitsune

It was difficult to keep striving on and forwards after so many of those that you had cared for were gone, taken by the harsh circumstances of which you had fought to survive. You’d never forget a single one of them for as long as you lived, they had made you realise that the world still had things to offer, even if you had to look past the traumatic bloodshed and the dead walking to see them.

Your hands weren’t clean of blood by any means, but you had done what had been necessary, and because of it you remained breathing. And so did Judith and RJ, of whom had fallen under the care of you and Daryl amidst the cold and imposing effects of the reality that they had both been born into. It was never expected for your mind to conclude on the realisation that you desired a child of your own, however it was constantly plaguing you, like a fever that you just couldn’t shake.

But it was another daunting responsibility that you would need to protect, and it was more important to prioritise those that were already around you. Whilst you had never sought out something for yourself after the end of the world unless it was a product of vitality, you couldn’t be selfish in that way. You were well aware that with time your clock was ticking, for each day you were getting older, and at any moment the unexpected could end your life, but seeing the parents walking through Commonwealth with their own bundles of blood in their arms forced your heart to yearn.

You loved Judith and RJ, and of course Dog, with your entire being, and you would do anything that they required from you, and so you became mercilessly frustrated with yourself for secretly wanting more. There was no conclusion on how, if you were to, to mention your maternal cravings to Daryl, you were companions who had been through hell together and shared the same bed. To those on the outside, it would look like you were the parents of one small but happy family.

And to some degree you were. But they knew that you were auntie y/n and uncle Daryl, and sadly enough, the last family that they had, apart from Carol. Everyone else was gone, either cooped up in the rebuild of Alexandria, or dead. All that remained was unceremoniously precious, and you weren’t willing to so much as give up even a smidge of what you had desperately salvaged. The earth was in in-emendable ruins, but parts of your own world remained, and whilst your ovaries wanted to expand the metaphorical horizon of which you loved, you were content even whilst you were passively brooding.

Your thoughts were instantly shaken from your skull when you heard the front door open and close. It was late in the eve, Daryl had been out completing his responsibilities throughout the daytime, whilst you had been occupied with your unrealistic daydreams, and doing absolutely nothing else besides keeping a watchful eye on the Grimes children. And your lack of incomplete household chores made you feel disposable, and you were aware that Daryl wouldn’t care, but you still felt pathetically guilt ridden.

Dog abandoned his resting place which had been beside your feet to greet the archer, his tail excitedly wagging, as you remained in your attempts of forcing your lonesome pondering away. You stood in defiance to appear as though nothing was bothering you, it was a routine on your part to wait for Daryl to get home, even if the kids were in bed like they were tonight. As you neared the door where the man was ruffling the fur behind the loyal canine’s ears, you could see the exhaustion that weighed heavily beneath Daryl’s eyes. It hadn’t been a good day for him, clearly it had been long and agitating.

“Supper’s in the kitchen.” No doubt he was hungry, and so you had scraped together whatever was edible so that there could be food on the table. It was still strange to you that you no longer had to ransack empty homes and stores, or hunt to keep your stomach full. Times had certainly changed, and you sent Daryl a small yet somewhat forced smile as you hugged your middle with your own arms. The man stood up straight as he squinted in your direction, examining your form. It was stupid to think that you could try and hide anything from him, your wishful thinking was a detrimental shield for the unrealistic desires that lingered on your mind. You were only taunting yourself further and worrying your domestic companion.

Dog watched with tilted ears as Daryl strode toward you, tipping your chin upwards with his forefinger to subdue your eyes with meeting his. “Somethin’s botherin’ you.” It wasn’t a question, he needn’t have if there was a live wire alight in your brain, he knew you too well. “Y/n, you can tell me anythin’, ya know that.” A part of you felt guilty, he was exhausted, and if you’d have just gone to bed rather than waiting up for his return, then he would have been none the wiser. You were certain that he would view your dreams as circumstantially foolish, he not only knew how great the responsibility of caring for and protecting a child was, but that were too many risks that threatened the the health and overall life of the mother.

Without strict medical structures within the communities that had formed after the outbreak which was dealt with a tough comparison against the government ran hospital facilities, options that could aid during a pregnancy were very slim. Almost nonexistent in fact. The both of you had bore as mourning witnesses to Lori’s fate which was sympathetically horrific, it was an enormous gift that Judith remained well and breathing considering that she would have cut it close to a short and youthful life if it hadn’t have been for Maggie, who was now a mother to her own son.

Everyone had moved on somehow from the dark events that had implored themselves with terrible timing, and now you were ready to do the same. Nothing could hold you back, other than the sadistic rejection that you feared Daryl would meet your idea with. Your mouth felt dry, as though somebody had rubbed sandpaper upon your tongue, as you opened your lips, preparing every imaginable possibility to spew desperately in the form of many passionate words. But there was only a straightforward statement that abjured from you. “I want a baby.” You said with your head bowed down in a likeliness of shame.

The silence that prevailed had you feeling resentful of yourself and uncomfortable. It coiled in a cruel grasp around your shoulders, and you could only apologise profusely for your honest communication. “I’m sorry Daryl, god I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have sprung that on you like that.” The tears that dwelled in your eyes befuddled your vision; things were more than fine the way they were, and you just had to go and ruin it with your selfish impulses. “Forget I said anythin’,” you fearfully demanded, rubbing your damp eyes with the curve of your palm.

The dream that you had was nothing more than an epiphany of your greatest delusions, it was never going to happen. Whilst you felt largely incomplete, you felt guilty for the plague that you had erupted in Daryl’s mind, you couldn’t even dare to look at him. It was expected that if you did you would only be met with a flavour of emotions. The worst of them would be disappointment. You had never let Daryl down, and you had always been profusely loyal, but you deemed that all to be over now. If only you hadn’t been poisoned by the sins of greed, you wouldn’t have felt significantly judged by your better half.

With self sufficiency blending the lines that your sight gravitated towards on the floorboards as you attempted to brush past Daryl and escape the suffocating room, you felt his hand grab gently at the inner crook of your elbow. You became tense from the contact that you were normally no stranger to, afraid that he would guide you to the front door. But he didn’t, his stature remained still as he hoisted your chin up with his pointer finger again. “Don’ walk away y/n/n.” He inwardly gulped as you failed to recognise the glint that twinkled in his oceanic eyes. His mouth wavered as he too tried to pronounce the reeling of his brain. Daryl cleared his throat, attracting his body closer to your own.

You were almost shaking from the desolate nerves that scrutinised worrisome aura; he’d confided in you about the hardships of his youth. Had been selfish of you to have shared such an intimate aspect of the inclinations that your inner demons harboured. “Shit.” The curse fell from his lips, and you were no to being a witness to Daryl struggling to express how he was really feeling. Your expectations were for him to condone you with a faucet of repulse - he’d never have the intention of being your sexual partner again out of fear of putting an infant bun in your abdominal oven. There were always risks of an unwanted pregnancy in the apocalypse where any preventions were scarce. But you wanted this, and you highly doubted that he ever would.

“I don’ know how ta say this…” He had you hanging off the edge of a cliff with dreaded suspense. His exterior was a nervous wreck, he chewed with irrational refuge at his thumb as he was lost in a purgatory of speechlessness. “I…, um.” He stuttered over his southern accent, shaking his head at himself. There was never a time that he couldn’t confide in you, so why was he suddenly so apprehensive? All he needed to do was ogle in the familiarity of your eyes, and then the torturing weight was removed from his chest. “I’m ready to be a father and you’ll be the best mother.” He confessed nervously with tenderness, his heart beating with pure and innocent love.

Each of the survivalist quirks that you had adapted throughout were attributes that Daryl adored about you - he had never perceived himself to be a man that would fall in love, but here he was, gouging the elated expression that had cracked unto the lines of your face with his eyes. In the swallowing depths of the devastating apocalypse, there was no need for labels, reciprocating live for one another was enough. It was rare and pure to have love like what you and Daryl shared even before the world had fallen into unmendable shambles, you were so very lucky on the planet that had been overtaken by the dead.

“I love you Dixon.” Your confidence had returned to your previously nervous bones, as you licked your top lip in a moment of sultry thought that would condemn you from entering a church without sunning, and the notion did not go unnoticed by Daryl. His piercing azure gaze imbedded wistful daggers into your naked tongue, which only prompted you to teasingly stroke it against your opposing lip. In little to no time the strong archer shot forwards, grappling your maternal hips in his sturdy hands as he fought effectively to suck your tongue into his own mouth.

He stroked it passionately with his own vocalising muscle, making your head spin from the excitable onslaught of thoughts of what was to come. Hopefully him inside of you, the filthy corners of your mind prayed like a desperate whore, as the prospect of growing his child within you hit your hormonal drive hard. The process of procreating the baby that you desired so much hadn’t even resonated as a priority as silly as it may have sounded. Just carrying that bundle of untarnished flesh and infant limbs would bring you joy enough, and fulfil all in life that you had assumed would surpass you. “Love ya too y/l/n.” He said as he broke away from the impactful, rhythmic collision course of your conjoined lips.

Daryl missed the feeling of them already, but he knew how your mind had a habit of running wild if it wasn’t grounded securely, and thus his palm steadied a hold upon your waist, pressing you’d chests obscurely close together. “Bedroom.” The word escapes you as an instinctive order, filling the brief break that hung in the air as you shared a heavy breath. With no coordination, your feet stumbled through your home, careful to keep some quiet on your intentional route as to not disturb the the kids from their slumbers. Somehow you had navigated yourselves to the room that was occupied by the bed that Daryl often held you in as you drifted off into a rest, and he closed the door in an attempt to be as silent as possible behind you both.

Being in here with a lustrous purpose awoke something inside of you; this could finally be it, the amorous event that turned you into a mother! There was nothing that could contain your excitement, including your comfortable cotton panties, you were pathetically soaked from the arousal that pooled with momentous desperation in your underwear. Your skin was boiling to the touch, and only Daryl would be aware of the flush temperature that your body was running. His large fingers brushed down your inner thighs, eliciting a shuddered gasp to puncture through the bared enforcement of your clenched teeth. It almost felt scandalous as you touched one another with an intention of more than sex.

The reality that had been nothing else but a tempted dream was to be possible, that was if you could in fact carry a child to full term. This was the fear talking as a devilsome voice in your head, there was no contending culprit, however the sadistic qualms that it brought up had a viable point. Those trained in the medical field were scarce to come by, and whilst there was a resident doctor in the Commonwealth, there were still the hurdles of limited medicines. It made sense that that you were becoming a worrier, you had been enduring the role of the strong yet cautious guardian for Judith and RJ in a time that felt so long that preventing any arising risks had almost become second nature to you.

“Don’ think about it sunshine.” Daryl knew you better than the back of his hand, and his observations of your overthinking behaviour had paid off, you could feel the weight from your shoulders fall as you listened to his words. They were soothing, a wave of calmness across the storm that crashed in your brain, a constant reminder that he would keep you and the living legacy of your old friend Rick Grimes alive. That was why you had fallen for the redneck in the first place, he was not only a loyal soldier whom was willing to risk his own life for his friends, but he also was your source of all reason. “Jus’ feel, don’t think.”

His words held a temptation that you couldn’t resist, as did the grip of his hands that swallowed the curve of your hips; there was hardly an occurrence that he could not hold you steady during, although the rare moment was creeping upon the two of you like the overhanging shade of a tree’s natural canopy. “Make me feel all of you then Daryl.” He did not restrain himself, you’d offered yourself to him, and he was never one to resist your body. There was a burning and wanton aggravation pooling in the destination of his chest, the archer lunged forwards with a distinctive growl.

The weight of his body launched yours back so that you were positioned on the mattresses just as the man wanted, laid out all vulnerable and ready for Daryl to prevail merch within your form. Simply the thought of impregnating you had the ability to make Daryl’s head dizzy, it was an arousing image to picture you full and round with his little redneck spawn. He already thought you were ethereally beautiful, but the prospect of you being the physical shelter for your human creation would transform you into a literal goddess. He was becoming rabid, like a starving animal that hadn’t eaten in weeks, and you were the only present source to quench his damning hunger.

The tip of his tongue tantalisingly stroked along the column of your throat; you looked intoxicatingly pretty beneath him, and Daryl was getting impatient with the long and drawn out foreplay. Your left breast was fondled in the side grasp of Daryl’s palm, and your face felt flush from the chaos whisked tsunami that rotated your blood within your body. All of this touching with no orgasmic outcome was making you not only disgruntled and impatient but lightheaded too. “I need you to put a baby in me.” You spoke with the intention of sounding dominant and full of copious confidence, however it escaped form you as a tender whimper. The tone that you had used seemed to spur Daryl on, prompting him to finally get to work.

Swift motions left you in a state of undress, distorted in the bare exposure of nudity that made Daryl fixated on every inch of your flesh. He kissed each limb, every scar until your shoulders were shuddering from suspense, and eventually his mouth drifted lower, causing your thighs to tremble. Daryl was face to face with your sopping centre, his eyes ogling at your perfectly constructed folds as he salivated from his own thirst to lather your sweet juices on his tastebuds. It felt like a precious moment to spark pleasure through each cell in your body; there was a chance that spilling his cum into your walls could depict a new path for the both of you - parenthood. Daryl needed to feel the breathtaking vice grip of your tight cunt squeezing his girthy cock, however it was his intention to make you already have the blissful aftershocks of an orgasm prior to him entering you.

This was your special moment, and you deserved to be treated like a queen during it. Lingering butterfly kisses were sporadically placed on the inside of your thighs, his teeth delicately scuffing on the meat of your legs, provoking your desires until you began thrusting your hips towards his face, trying to instigate Daryl into speeding up his loving touches until it escalated into something more. You must have been blessed with some kind of grace since Daryl stroked his slick tongue across your pussy, moaning onto your mound from your addictive wetness. Without any warning Daryl slithered a thick finger through your welcoming entrance, which made your skull fall defeatedly into the pillow that supported it.

It had been close to a fortnight from the last intimate instance that you and Daryl had exchanged, and that lacking span of time involving your sex life together had made you tight. Your pussy walls were hugging onto his singular digit as it worked its way in and out of you, refusing to release it in fear of having to survive without Daryl’s hands for another two weeks. That wouldn’t be the case in your present circumstance, the presence of his mouth joining in on the fun that his right index was having as his lips wrapped around his your clit vowed just as much. To observe that with a quietened moan and harsh bite to your lower lip, it was a signal to Daryl that you were enclosing to your high. It wouldn’t be long now, and adventurously he added another finger within you to be company for his other.

The stretch that his fingers made you feel almost had you in tears. You were already threading your hands through his wavy locks, tugging at the roots to express the sweet contortion of pleasure that belittled you. Daryl was a practised genius when it came to knowing the landscape of your body, his eyes gouged every reaction that he pulled from you into his memory. He was addicted to making you feel good, and so he acted begrudgingly with a forlorn huff as he withdrew his fingers from your heat. They were sewed with your own personal glaze, shiny from the interior of your count which he was eager to impale with his aching length. To be inside of you was an escape from the dystopian reality that mankind was haphazardly tossed into, and he relished in every break from it that he was able to spend with you.

“Daryl!” The meandering frustration spewed out from your mouth which the man half atop of you adored, but his reflexes were fast enough to cause him to slap his hand over your mouth, aware that your noise was a risk of waking the sleeping children in the household. They were far too young for the talk, and Daryl ironically felt the same when it came to explaining it. He wasn’t a father… not yet anyway, and it felt almost intrusive to be the one as to decide when Judith and RJ had adult activities explained to them. He’d rather get on with being their remaining guardian than stepping into the shoes of their father whom had been a dead friend of his. He hoped the same as you that Rick was alive, and in the case of that, he would reserve the dreaded talk for him.

“Ya gotta be quiet peach.” Daryl reminded you, foreseeing the morning that followed the current eve where you would be kicking yourself if your whines sparked curiosity upon Judith. He gently released his clasp that his palm had over your mouth, softly running his moist thumb across the area of your bottom lip, vigilantly slipping it to be resting on your tongue. You suckled delicately on the calloused pad of flesh, staring with faux innocence that drove him mad. “Think yer cute, don’ cha?” The rasp of his voice rumbled in his chest as he leant down, allowing his lips to mumble against your flesh. “You’re real fuckin’ cute sunshine, look even cuter when I fuck our baby inta ya.” There was no room for him to deny it now; he had without a singular doubt thought about beating you with the gift of a child previously, if not multiple.

Daryl could be guarded at times, but even if he wasn’t vocal about the runnings of his mind, his actions always showed that he cared. There’d been nobody that he could open up pre-apocalypse, not even Merle as he had had the habit of oversharing his judgemental opinions without concern for upsetting the feelings of others. But with you, he could lower his walls and still feel safe. He was enamoured by the beauty of your soul, he felt like the luckiest man alive to have you by his side. You were like an angel whom was stripped of her wings and forced to walk among the walkers and remaining humans.

“Do it.” You begged desperately once he had removed his thumb from its balance on your tongue, tears pricking with threat in your eyes. “Please, please, please fuck me Dar.” Whilst your words were sharp with gouging intent for Daryl to mercilessly rail your insides into orgasmic obliteration, your tone was hushed, since you knew that the bowman would force you to wait even longer if you ushered above a whispered sound. And if that were to be the prevailing sentence which you served, then you would surely combust. You could not wait any longer, and so you could do no more than continue your symphony of begging. “Jus- just need you to cum inside me and keep filling me up ‘til you knock me up. I need to carry your baby…”

The world was spinning, your dream consciously making every avid sound cascade with profuse focus in your eardrums. The metallic clank that riveted around the room had your bloodstream flowing with wild vigour; it was the noise of Daryl unbuckling and discarding his belt, the rugged sight of witnessing him undress causing another wave of lustful discharge to lather your lady parts. Your own body was on instinct preparing itself to physically wield his mushroom tipped length within its walls, and you were grateful for that, seeing as his wife girth to this day after countless times of fucking throughout your years of companionship still took adjusting to.

His scarred flesh became uncovered as he stripped piece by piece of tethered clothing, the old marks strained atop of his skin in the gloomy shadows of the room. Daryl was aware of them, but only vacantly in your presence. As he shoved his boxers and utile trousers down and off his hips, he rose his head to be glowering at you. But it wasn’t with dominance, it was a fluorescence of tranquil ice blue that heart-fully admired each minor aspect of your appearance; from the crinkles created from expressions of joy on your face to the speckles of randomly dotted freckles around your pores (some of which were so minuscule that he had to squint as though he were looking through a telescope), Daryl always felt like his breath had been taken away each time that he turned his head in your direction.

It didn’t help that you were as naked as the first day of when humans began to roam the earth, your flaws were bare to the eye as were the streaked memories of past injuries. Those very scars however were evidence that throughout the difficult hardships that you had been cruelly handed before and after the dead had risen in ungodly ways, you remained. There had been no justice, and some all at the same time; the sick minded individuals that had strewn chaos upon the surviving communities as though they were swimming through oxygen had met the dire consequences of their dictating actions. Vengeance that you and Daryl and others had rationed out was never swiftly executed, despite earning victories with expenses, none of you had got away without more than scrapes. Immense torture contaminated you all mentally and physically - a harsh line was sharply drawn from the thinner flesh along your rib cage, the violent line work meeting at the middle section of your sternum.

It was one of many marks that you carried, however the biggest mark you had was on your heart. It was like Daryl had precisely struck you through the heart as though he was Cupid with one of his crossbow bolts, he had tainted your affection towards him without even having to try, he had just been himself and that was the best version of him that there was. He had changed and that was for certain, but you would be concerned if he hadn’t after all the shit you’d faced. You weren’t the same person either, the thick and thin of your triumphs moulded an armour of resilience. In the past life that you had lived you had held no priorities of mothering children, you had ensured through reliable contraception and carefulness that the possibility would not present itself.

It was made that in an ended world that your desires could shift so dramatically, it was the unexpected that forced you to carry on towards a brighter future. And that path was in the process of being mapped out, there was no blueprint, only two bodies that could harmoniously create another. Flesh on flesh when it came to the living was a profound risk for conception, there were methods that you and Daryl followed previously that had complied to avoiding the inevitable that meandered the both of you away from being parents. Now all of that wasn’t necessary, you had earned yourselves a grand slice of piece, and this was it.

“Ya ready sunshine?” The chalky rasp of his voice gently pried as he shifted to manoeuvre atop of you on the simple bed, his eyes that held years worth of every emotion that silently telling you that it was okay if you changed your mind or wanted to reschedule your sexual efforts of conceiving. Rather than speak straight away, you ran your hand across his curved hip, the notion was intimate as you reached to grasp his pulsating cock in your palm, softly applying pressure as you twisted your wrist in motions to grant Daryl a rush of adrenaline throughout his nether regions. He bared his teeth as he hissed, infinitely having flashbacks to the first time you had manhandled him.

“Yeah. I think that we’re both ready Dixon.” You had always had a smart mouth, and Daryl huffed and rolled his eyes at the little ‘innocent’ giggle that you had gifted his ears with. He moved to brush his thighs against your own as he reevaluated his position of straddling you, pulling your legs apart so that he could slot his body straight between them. Your centre was enchanting to his aching erection, and Daryl could not await any longer. He had been diversely patient, and somehow had managed to control himself all through it. Daryl held his length in his dominant hand, running the engorged tip along the outskirts of your vulva and dragging the head around your clit.

It made you squirm frivolously under Daryl as he sweetly teased you to make sure that you were ready to take him. But your words put a stopper to his tantalising game, and finally give each of you what you were hungering for. “Put it in Dar, please. I fucking need you inside me so bad.” Whilst your voice was not loud it spoke volumes to Daryl’s brain, and finally he prodded his cock at your slick entrance, taking his time sliding into you. The twitch of your cunt’s trembling walls as he began to sheathe his girth into you was making your lover lightheaded, you were so tight and it derived animalistic and strung out groans from his warm throat.

He had sank so deeply into your cervix that you were already feeling close, it was heaven to feel so full. His sternly knuckled fists framed a bracket on either side of your face, his hair was draped and hanging down like the branches of a soulful willow tree, some of the sun kissed strands tickled at your nose. Your hands found their resting placement on the bouldering structure of his defined shoulders, the nails on your fingers leaving indented crescent moon shapes on his skin in their wake. There was no distance in between your abdomens as you were pressed together, your legs tangled around Daryl’s waist, appreciating the motionless moment that you were sharing.

“Gonna move now,” Daryl made you aware so that you would not be surprised by his administrative thrusts that would undoubtedly churn a pool of ecstatic pleasure in the pit of your stomach. The crossbow archer leant slightly back, dragging his wide cock closer to the exit of your pussy, you grappled with needy loss and misery at his muscled arms, wantonly needing him to return to reaching the sensitive spot inside of you. Your agonisingly aroused pleas and prayers were answered when Daryl pivoted forwards, knocking all oxygen out from your lungs as you frustratedly chewed your bottom lip, needing to scream out and wail his name but knowing that you couldn’t.

He had started a pace, one that was not too fast or too slow. He was quite literally rocking your world, obscuring your vision with dizzying light spots in the corners of your eyesight, as you laid there restlessly, your nerves indignantly contorting the control that you had on your own limbs. Daryl chose to handle the battle that your legs were putting on his own terms, raising your legs in the air so that he could wind your ankles around the behind of his neck. One of his large veined hands sloped onto your calf, holding you captive by your own free will whilst his tense balls roughly slapped against your ass.

From the altering of your intimate position, the upper half of your body was pinned flat upon the mattress, your hands now empty of Daryl’s broad shoulders. Your torso and above it was completely on display for Daryl to appreciate, and to distort his beaded pupil focus even further, you teasingly cupped your breasts that wee already bouncing with perkish sin. Daryl’s tongue stroked his dry lip, as he tried to refrain from insulting any expectation that you had held onto for the length of your creative lovemaking session. “Y-y/n, I ain’t gonna-“ With an outstretched arm, you grabbed his bicep with as much strength that you could muster, frantically nodding your head in muted agreement.

“Me too honey.” Your strained sentence fell gracefully from your lips in the same smooth fashion as an upturned sand timer, the grains of your bliss swiftly contracted within your centre, strangling Daryl’s struggling cock with the labours of your orgasm. “Fuck.” You stuttered out as your eyes crossed and then closed, causing you to accidentally miss the state that Daryl was in; flushed temples, dripping sweat and a crinkled nose from trying to hold off his inevitable release. He almost pulled out on methodic impulse, but remembering what this was all for compelled him to refrain. And so, once the aftershocks of your high hand roused you into an ordeal of sensitivity, he let go.

Rope after rope of his release entered your maternal system, it was the first time that he had ever down so, and Daryl realised that he would never be able to cum elsewhere every again. He’d give you a million babies if it meant he got to do it every time. “Holy shit.” Daryl moaned with your legs still around his neck. He laid his chest atop of you, nuzzling his face against your collarbone. You laughed lightly and breathlessly whilst combing your fingertips through his hair. “Ain’t nothing holy about it baby.” You countered, watching astoundingly as he raised his head and your eyes met. “Same time tomorrow?” You queried, feeling hopeful at the prospect of something new and in the shape of a newborn.

There was nothing left to live for in this estranged life where infection was not the greatest risk, being mauled apart by walkers was, or the graphically dark libation of execution. You had to find some light that would make your eyes shine with illuminated happiness until you died, otherwise none of the consequential hurdles were worth the masterful sorrow that they had eternally etched behind your eyes. It all had to stand for something; the possibility of not only having a future but also creating one for the younger generations. You would do anything for the child that was not yet formed in your womb, nothing would happen to them on Daryl’s or your own account. Whenever they presented themself as a life form inside of you, it would be the peace that you and Daryl had each searched for even before the outbreak.

#daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon drabbles

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finnlongman · 1 month ago

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Today, I performed Feidhm is mó at the Clemoes Reading Prize in the ASNC department, and was joint winner. This is a very angsty poem spoken by Fer Diad as he prepares for his combat with Cú Chulainn, in which he expresses grief and regret about the forthcoming fight. I was in full costume and went very hard on the feelings, with lots of yelling and striding around and maybe even some tears.

Unfortunately, nobody filmed it, so I can't share it with you.

But I did film one of my "dress rehearsals" earlier in the day. It's considerably tamer than the real thing -- without space to stride around, I couldn't achieve the full level of emotion, either. But it exists, and I have captioned it, with a translation into English, for your delectation.

Behold:

If anything looks strange in the spelling, it's probably like that in the manuscript, which I didn't emend; if anything sounds strange about my pronunciation, let's just chalk that up to it being the fifteenth century and therefore neither truly medieval nor modern. It's definitely not me messing up 😶 And if Fer Diad occasionally sounds suspiciously like he's from Donegal... well, Connacht used to stretch much further north, that's all I can say.

#feidhm is mó #Cormac Fir Diad #tain bo cuailnge #ulster cycle #medieval Irish #about the author

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redheadspark · 2 years ago

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Fifth Floor Prt. 2

Summary - You and Oliver take full advantage of the Prefect's Bathroom

Warnings - SMUT SMUT SMUT! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED, 18+ ONLY!

Part two of Fifth Floor

It surprised you: one minute you two were kissing and now you two were together in the bath on the throes of pleasure.

Both you and Oliver were not going to slow down as soon as you cast the charm along the door and walls into the Prefects Bathroom. The pent-up feelings you two kept to yourselves over the past few years since you graduated were now pouring out to one another, like a busted open dam. Yet it felt like it was right, stripping each other's clothes off while kissing and giggling. The serious tones of being consumed by one another never masked the playfulness either, which was almost a reflection of your relationship with one another anywho: serious and yet light. Of course, you were baffled when Oliver perched you on the edge of the tub that was now filled to the brim with hot water mixed with scented and enchanted bubbles.

His boldness came through as he gently pushed your legs open and licked into your folds like he was a starving student at a Feast.

Intense hot pleasure came through you ten told as he was between your legs, thankful that you could be as loud as you wanted since no one outside the room could hear your activities together. Yet it made Oliver persistent, listening to the cues on where to lick and where to kiss along your folds and inside your cunt. Almost like a devoted student, taking notes and knowing what makes you come undone and what made you whimper and writhe. You were unraveling in seconds since it's been some time since you had something like this with someone, his fingers gliding along your folds when he felt you shaking and close to orgasm. No matter how long you tried to hold out, it was closer than you thought.

Seeing him in front of you, his head between your shaking legs and his back muscles glistening and contracting made your head swim all the more. All of those times practicing and playing Quidditch was showing in his muscles along his backside and his arms. He memorized you, even with him giving gentle kitten licks along your sensitive clit. It made you fall back against the marble floor, moving your hips and trying to prolong the orgasm that was coming so fast.

Up right before you broke, you placed your hands in his brown tuffs of hair and felt your body move without your knowledge, rolling your hips into his face and finally feeling him suck your clit.

You fell with a howl, and Oliver thought of you as a gorgeous siren.

After a good moment or two of you calming yourself down, of Oliver watching you with wide eyes and a small glimmer of liquid on his chin and lips, you grinned widely like a Cheshire Cat at him as you pushed yourself back up into a sitting posting. Sinking into the water and feeling the temperature engulf your now sensitive skin, you sighed and moaned at the same time as you turned him around and made him lean against the bathtub wall. He went willingly, you pressing a hand against his hard and toned chest as he was how against the bathtub wall with nowhere else to go.

Slowly and without breaking eye contact with him, you reached your other hand down beneath the bubbles and felt his cock. Hard, a bit large for your hand to wrap all around, but it felt perfect in your hand as you gripped him tightly. Oliver inhaled sharply, his eyes going wide and his breath shaking as you started stroking him off under the water.

You never thought you would be in this kind of situation with your best friend, bringing in emended pleasure under the bubbles and water in a bathroom alone. But it was also a dream come true, being in his arms and blissfully happy. There would never be a right moment for something like this, Oliver reminded you of that moment before you both were in the throws of pleasure and lust like this.

But it felt right now, getting Oliver off as he was manning and biting his lower lips with every twist of your hand and every squeeze of your fingers. You could sense and see that he was trying not to be too loud, which seemed ironic since he made your moan crudely a moment before when he was licking into your cunt with vigor.

It should be the same for him.

You leaned up to kiss his neck and lick along his skin as your hand was moving a bit faster, feeling his hips shaking under the water and moving in sync with yours as his hands were gripping the sides of the tub, arms stretched out and his head thrown back.

"You can let it all out know you," You hummed against his jaw, kissing his neck once more with a bit of vigor as you pressed your bare chest against his, "No one will know we're in here, and they won't hear anything. You sound gorgeous like this, Oli,"

"F-f-fuck!" He moaned aloud as you traced your thumb along the tip of his cock. He was shaking, the water splashing the pair of you as you grinned wickedly and straddled one of his thighs. The hard muscle against your still sensitive cunt made you moan against his neck as your other hand raked in his brown hair and pulled hair. He moaned crudely, his head snapping back as you looked at his exposed neck and his trembling lips.

He looked beyond gorgeous to you.

Before you could say anything to him to make him come undone as he did with you, he moved one of his gripped hands from the bathtub wall and placed it on your arm in a death grip, making you stop stroking him since you thought you did something wrong. Your other hand released his hair, making his head snap back to look at you as you shot him a worried look.

"You okay?" You asked him, heading his labored breathing and how dilated his eyes were. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt him or made this a bad experience, it would have pained you. Maybe you were too harsh or this was too quick. But he slowly grinned, his crimson lips and flushed cheeks should no sign of pain or uncomfortableness as you were searching his eyes. He leaned forward, kissing you soundly and gently in the water, making you melt and release his cocked as you framed his face.

To share a gentle moment in the throws of love seemed far too much, yet not enough. He kissed you gently and with no hint of urgency. There was more time in the world for you two to finally have each other, to be in love with one another, and you felt like Oliver wanted to savor every second with you.

"I don't wanna cum yet," He whispered against your lips, tracing your nose with his as you gulped, "Not when I wanna have ya here,"

That alone made your heart skip, feeling his hands go under the water and grab your hips as he too was not breaking your glance. He moved your swiftly, having you now against the wall and him crowding you as he kissed you over and over. His hands moved to trace and touch your breast, some bubbles slipping down your nipples and making you moan as he palmed them both while kissing down your neck and jawline. You felt as if you were boneless under his touch, his chest against yours as his mouth moved now to lick and suckle your breast, his thighs against your own under the water to make you feel his still hard cock near your own aching core.

It felt perfect, all of this felt perfect.

Releasing a nipple from his mouth with a pop, your eyes were glazed over as he leaned into you again and stared into your orbs to catch his breath, "I got ya, okay?"

You nodded your head, you two staring each other down as his spare hand reached down to take his cot in hand and guide himself into you. You felt it all through your bones and skin, through your veins as your eyes rolled back and you felt him slowly sink himself inside of you. The stretch felt like an ache, a good ache after being on a broom for far too long. It felt right, almost engrained within you as his cock snugged against your walls and you moaned loudly with no sign of being restrained. Your eyes were closing, not seeing how Oliver was watching you take him so well and how he wished he could etch this image in his mind. You were naked, covered in water and bubble, bare and open for him and only him.

He won't forget it ever in his life.

Oliver, once he was fully inside of you, waited for your to adjust for him as you took a long breath. It was a bit much, almost losing your breath as your thighs trembled under the water and against his own legs. You had to hold onto his neck for some kind of support as his hand under the water grasped one of your thighs. His other unoccupied hand was back out of the water and bracing the wall by your head as he kissed your face over and over.

"Okay?" He asked in a raspy voice, he too was feeling the immense pleasure of your walls keeping him inside of you. You whimpered and nodded your head as he grinned along your cheeks, "Merlin you feel fuckin' good. So…so good."

His hips were moving slowly, with deep hard thrusts that made you moan with each push. His hips were doing most of the work, the thrusts were deep enough and hard enough for you to melt against the wall but enough to make everything shake under your skin as you were taking everything he gave you. Oliver was not going fast, which made you wonder for a split second if he wished to. No, you could tell in how he was going at it that he wanted this to last, not a fast fuck.

"Yes….Merlin Yes…..Oli…FUCK!" You mewled as he hit that spot inside of you, hearing him growl for a moment as he was still fucking you in the tub. His hand that was holding your thigh was in a tight grip, not letting you sink as you clung onto his back of dear life, feeling your nails almost break the skin as your moans were getting louder and more vocal. His rhythm was consistent, not slowing down or going too fast just to drive you insane as you felt that feeling of an intense orgasm come over you again.

"I'm c-close, O-o-liver—" You were moaning into his neck as he huffed and stopped his thrusts. You were about to protest at him, teetering right on the edge of that pleasurable fall when he moved swiftly once again. Still inside of you, he leaned back a bit and scooped you in his arms, moving with ease to have his back against the wall once again and you in his lap. With his cock still buried deep inside of you, he peered up at you and saw the state you were in.

Naked and shaking from pleasure, hair plastered to your neck and backside, eyes wide and unhinged. He reached up, damp hand up to your neck to look at the image before you as he smiled. Being perched over Oliver made you feel almost powerful, untouchable, and yet you were still at his mercy. You too wished to savor this image in your mind forever, knowing you would never be the same.

His thumb traced your lower lip, his hips now moving up and down as his other hand under the water moved to touch your cunt, right over your clit. You keened, leaning over from the shock of pleasure as he gripped your neck and watched you get that high again. With his thumb on your clit, making sharp and small circles and his cock drilling into you, he was watching in utter fascination and wonderment.

"Cum for me," he whispered rapidly against your lips as he kissed you boldly, "I can feel you're close, aren't ya? I wanna feel it, all of it. Please, cum for-"

The orgasm you felt slammed you sideways and made you scream, your body going stiff from the pleasure that was now intensified up and down your body as you rode through every second of it. Oliver saw how your eyes shot wide, your body quivered in the still hot water, and your hands clenched onto his shoulders tight as he thrusts two more times before he too released with a loud moan.

You felt him unload inside of you, spreading inside of you to feel that warmth along your walls and make you moan some more as you collapsed on top of him. He wrapped you in his arms, still riding out his release as he thrust into your a few more times.

The pleasure was no long piping hot but a simmer, you both still shaking and each your breaths as Oliver gathered you in his arms and kissed you all over. You were grateful you were still in the tub, covered in water and bubbles to get some relief. Although he pulled out of you, he never once released you, placing you in his lap and kissing you soundly with a massive grin on his face.

"Merlin's Beard…that was…." You said, still unable to talk as Oliver grinned widely.

"I was thinking the same thing," He murmured, his voice uneven himself as he pressed his forehead against yours, "And to think we could have done this sooner if we weren't thick in the head,"

That made you giggle, curling into him some more as he was keeping you close in his arms. It was true, if you both weren't worried so much about the "what if's" and simply went with what you felt, then you would have this kind of love, this intimacy, way sooner. But life was strange in that way of course bringing you two back together in the aftermath of an almost catastrophic war that would have erased everything you knew and loved.

You decided then and there to live in the moment, leaning up to kiss him hotly.

30 minutes later, you two walked out of the Prefects Bathroom, dried off, and back in your old clothes. Heading back to the Great Hall and the Courtyard, you both walked side by side and held hands between the two of you, trying to hide the still evident flushness and blush on both of your cheeks.

Yet neither one of two saw Professor McGonagall near the Great Hall entrance watch you two walk out together, a knowing smile on her lips as she looked at her two old students and Gryffindor Alumni.

"Took those two long enough," She replied with a soft smile.

The End.

Tagged - @a-lumos-in-the-nox

#oliver wood x female reader #oliver wood fanfiction #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood #oliver wood x y/n #fanfiction #writing #oliver wood smut #oliver wood x you #oliver wood imagines #harry potter smut #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter writing #hp fic #hp smut #hp fandom #hp fanfic

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disco-archetypes · 5 months ago

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STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - The young man takes the folded up magazine with some hesitation. As he reads over your annotations and emendations a look of deep concentration comes over his face...

EMPATHY - He has the look of a man spread naked on the operating table. He can feel the cool metal of the scalpel, the bracing sting of the antiseptic, and yet his expression isn't wholly unpleasant. A part of him actually seems to *enjoy* the attention.

#disco elysium #psyche #empathy #steban the student communist

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conundrumoftime · 2 months ago

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How many children does Galadriel have?

It is Mothers' Day today and I wanted to post something, so here is a shortish post collecting together my thoughts on this question :)

As with so much re: Galadriel there is a short answer and a long answer, and the short answer is “one, obviously”, and the long answer begins with “Well...”

In the published LOTR, the only child mentioned is Celebrían. Given that Tolkien only invented Galadriel while writing LOTR this is probably the original idea and it's the one Christopher went with when composing the Silmarillion. But, in Unfinished Tales where you see more of the different ideas for Galadriel's Second Age story that he wrote afterwards(? we presume), Amroth is also the child of Galadriel and Celeborn, and when Galadriel passes through Moria after Annatar and the gwaith-i-mirdain stage a coup she's 'taking with her Amroth and Celebrían'.

Christopher says of this:

The text is much emended, and it is not always possible to see what belongs to the time of composition of the manuscript and what is indefinitely later. This is the case with those references to Amroth that make him the son of Galadriel and Celeborn; but whenever these references were inserted, I think it is virtually certain that this was a new construction, later than the writing of The Lord of the Rings. Had he been supposed to be their son when it was written, the fact would surely have been mentioned.

By the late 1960s JRRT seems to have gone back to considering Amroth the son of Amdír.

But then, when Nature of Middle-earth was published it contained more notes of Tolkien trying to figure out the years of birth of Galadriel, Celeborn, Amroth and Celebrían, and the considerable tangle he was trying to unpick regarding when elves have children and when Amroth (as the first child of Galadriel and Celeborn) could fit into his narrative while leaving room for Celebrían. And this is where we find out he also considered a compromise to this where Amroth was the son of Celeborn from an earlier marriage:

As first written, before most of it was struck through, this concluding sentence (after the colon) read: "The following calculation is probable. Celeborn's wife [?stole] away and left him with a son, Amroth." In conjunction with this, it appears that the following footnote was supplied: The Elves did not normally marry again, but after the judgement of Míriel they were permitted lawfully to do [so] if one partner deserted the other. This very seldom occurred; but in such a time of divided feelings as [the] end of [the] First Age this could occur.

But then Tolkien struck this out, leaving us with nothing more than a lot of intriguing possibilities to explore in fanfic :)

So. The answer to how many children Galadriel has is: One - No, two - No, one - No, one plus a stepchild from her husband's first marriage - No, just one.

But finally! Back to LOTR, and Treebeard's greeting to Galadriel and Celeborn:

A vanimar, vanimálion nostari!

Which Tolkien translates (in Letters) as 'O beautiful ones, parents of beautiful children!'

I was going to treat this as conclusively "she has more than one child, at least as far as Treebeard is concerned", but then Parf Edhellen translates Quenya 'nostari' not simply as 'parents' but also as 'ancestors'. So: back to "one child" or at least "not necessarily any more than one child".

But finally! The whole reason for translating 'nostari' as 'ancestors' there and not simply 'parents' is because:

the couple to which the phrase Q. a vanimar, vanimálion nostari was addressed (Galadriel and Celeborn) had only a single child, and so the phrase only makes sense if it refers to them as ancestors of all of their descendants: their daughter Celebrían and her children Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen.

Which is a fine and coherent way to reconcile "they only have one child in LOTR" with "Treebeard speaks of them as parents of children, plural, in LOTR" I suppose - but is not the only explanation. And Tolkien translated that greeting of Treebeard's as "parents of beautiful children", not "parents-and-grandparents-and-ancestors of beautiful children".

Maybe Treebeard just forgot. Or maybe they end up having other children post-LOTR and he foresaw it. Or: maybe there are more children, and always were, and Ents know better than we do...

(Happy Mothers' Day!)

#galadriel #celeborn #amroth #eyeofacat meta #lotr #tolkien

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cannabiscomrade · 2 years ago

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Remaking this since my last post lost traction

I’m Dave, I’m chronically ill and I’m just coming off a medical leave from work and I’m really behind on expenses due to medical care. I am 100% tube fed and hydrated, and I will now be going to the hospital 3x a week for IV hydration.

If you want to help me with some of my needed and reoccurring medical supplies, here is my wishlist

If you want to help me monetarily, my cashapp is $forcewielder - message for PayPal/venmo

My deductible rolled over as of July 1, so I am now paying co-pays on appointments and prescriptions again. Primary care is $25, specialists are $50, and my most expensive prescription on its own, Emend, is $108/month.

Also my birthday is August 3, if you could help or boost this it would be greatly appreciated ❤️❤️

#disability pride month #disability tag

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mypalbuck · 6 months ago

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TWO GHOSTS — P. PARKER {4}

↳In which two people, trying to move on from the loss of their lovers, find themselves fated to one another.

pairing: tasm!Peter Parker x female!reader

warnings: NWH SPOILERS! angst, mentions of infidelity

a/n: hi my loves I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to update this fic. It’s a little rushed and I haven’t edited it but I wanted to get it out to you all for Christmas. There will be an epilogue after this. I hope you all love it. Happy holidays! 🩷

You felt a little bit of normalcy being back in your own world. It had been a year since the multiverse events. You resumed work straight away and threw yourself into it. That was the only way you could distract yourself from Pretty Brown Eyes Parker. Your dreams were constantly plagued with him, manifestations of what could have been. The life you two could have lived. So work you would if it meant it would keep the heartache at bay.

And it did work, for a little bit. It was only until you see the first fall of snow that you felt that sharp pang in your chest again. Yes you were safe and had decided to befriend your Peter and Harriet. You thought when Peter arrived at work it was to see Harriet now that she was off maternity leave but it was to see you. He wanted to make emends and invite you to baby May’s 1st birthday. To say you instantly fell in love with baby May was an understatement, strangely enough there wasn’t one part of you that was jealous or sad anymore. Your heart without you giving any permission belonged to someone else, someone worlds apart.

Every time you saw a flash of orange your heart leapt in the hopes that Pete came back for you, that somehow he begged Doctor Strange to open a portal back to you. But alas it was always a traffic light or shop sign.

“Thank you for being here Y/N, it means a lot to Harriet.” Peter of your universe pat you on the shoulder in a nostalgic way, you smiled and nodded your head and handed him baby May’s birthday present. “Actually, I go by MJ now.” You smiled at Peter in a friendly manner. There was no love between the two of you anymore, but you remained civil. Besides, you only had eyes for one Peter now and it sure as heck wasn’t this universe’s one.

The party went along in a blur and you found yourself fiddling your keys, the familiar Empire State keyring missing that you gave to Pete made your keys feel light and mundane now. You chuckled and pushed yourself off the wall you were leaning on, making your way to Peter and Harriet you bid them farewell and made your way out onto the snowy street.

You cursed under your breath for not bringing a warmer jacket for you walk home. You had rushed straight from work to the birthday. Pulling your lab coat closer to your chest you shoved your freezing hands into your pockets, you furrowed your brows when your fingers brushed against cool metal. You pulled the object out of your pocket and realised it was Doctor Strange’s ring.

You had forgotten that you had kept it. Looking down at the ring you clutched it tight in your fist before running home.

You were going to do it.

You were going to make your way back to him. You didn’t care how, you two belonged together there was no doubt about it.

When you got home you quickly packed a backpack with all your special items and things you needed. Clothes and other things were replaceable, a love like that wasn’t.

Grabbing some paper and envelopes you wrote a resignation letter to your work, a letter to Peter and Harriet and one to Gwen’s family. They would think that you moved countries for a work opportunity. But unbeknownst to them you’d be in a whole different universe.

There was nothing keeping you here anymore. Running downstairs to the postbox you quickly sent the letters off before preparing yourself for this new journey.

Slipping the ring onto your fingers you took a deep breath and tried to recall how Strange moved his hands to open the portal. Closing your eyes and thinking only of Peter you moved your hand in a circular motion until you felt heat and saw a bright light through your eyelids.

You gasped, it had worked.

Stepping through the portal you made your way into an unfamiliar apartment building. Walking around you observed all the photos on the wall, and there his smiling face was. You were in the right place.

Taking off your backpack you placed it by a gorgeous Christmas tree. You smiled at all the spiderman decorations on the tree before your hand stopped at a familiar keyring. Peter had placed the Empire State keyring you gave him in the centre of the tree. You let out a sob, this confirmed that you weren’t insane for traveling across universes for this man.

You were brought out of your thoughts when you heard the door open. Before you could move, a dog ran into the room and licked you. It was a brown Labrador. You leaned down to pat the pup and noticed its name was Mocha. Your favourite coffee.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach and your chest warmed. You were seconds away from seeing the light of your life. The man who gave you hope and made you feel loved within minutes of you meeting him.

Hearing footsteps coming closer you looked up to find Peter walking towards the kitchen across from where you were standing. When he called out to Mocha and she didn’t respond Peter turned around to face you. Eyes wide, jaw slacked he dropped all the groceries that were in his hands. He blinked and rubbed his eyes as if he were dreaming. He looked as beautiful as the day you lost him. Fluffy brown hair tucked under a beanie, plaid jacket and scarf hanging off his lean frame.

“Y/N, a-are you really here?”

All you did was nod your head, afraid your voice would betray you. That was all it took for Peter to rush over to you and embrace you tightly. Together the two of you wept in eachother arms.

Peter brought his hands to your face and cupped your cheeks. “So I’m not dreaming?” You laughed and pulled the familiar handkerchief he had given you, bringing it to his face to wipe his tears. “No you’re not Tiger, I’m real. I traveled across universes for you.”

Peter let out a laugh of joy before pulling his lips to yours in a kiss that one would describe as something from a romance novel or movie. You always dreamt that your first kiss with Peter would be sweet and gentle but how wrong were you. This kiss was passionate and full of need. All the pent up emotions, the grief, the longing was packed into one kiss. After a while you broke apart breathless. Peter’s face streamed with tears again as he kissed your forehead.

“Are you here for good?” He whispered, waiting for the pin to drop and for the two of you to be separated again. You smiled affectionately at him and stroked his cheek, he looked at you like a lost puppy. “You and me forever Pete, that is if you want me?”

His eyes widened “Are you kidding me! I literally wished for you under my Christmas tree this year and here you are.” He lifted your feet off the floor and carried you to the hallway. Sheepishly he pointed above to the roof where a piece of mistletoe hung.

“I mean… rules are rules.” Peter blushed, waiting cheekily for a kiss. How could you say no to him ever again. Grabbing his cheeks in your hands you kissed every inch of his face.

“Merry Christmas, Peter my love.”

“Merry Christmas, my MJ.”

to be continued in the epilogue….

Masterlist

Taglist: @tsukishimawhore @apoloslut @l4mentis1 @stormbeyondthewall @im-nada @eg-dr3amer3 @pretty-pillow-princess @imsuperbored @m-ar-ia-m @tuxic @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @saltedcoffeescotch @xoxoloverb @lizzieann143 @shoxji @aubreylovesthegames @ay0nha @having-fun-is-what-i-do @buckys-vibranium-arm @cyanide-mustard @notalxx @haroldpotterson @ghostspf @spencybear @idli-dosa @kyushii @silverwindptv @kneelforloki @nervouslaught3r @plutoneu @officiallyunofficialperson @thewinterrbucky @stumbleonmywords @eaudenana @no-mercy-bby @book-fic-reader @lendeluxe

#peter parker #tasm!peter parker x reader #spiderman #peter parker x reader #avengers #spider man no way home #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield angst #spiderman andrew garfield #tasm #tasm spiderman #tasm Spidey #tasm Peter Parker #tasm!spiderman #tasm x reader #tasm!peter #tasm!peter x reader

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