#as in like makes my fucking skin crawl makes me sick to my stomach

[dip-the-stick]

*thru gritted teeth* i am grateful to spend time with family and grateful that people want to spend time with me 👍👍👍😁😁😁😁😁

#im actually rlly not is the thing #anyways my sister (bad) is taking me out for ramen and boba rn #which would be dope except she sucks and i hate her and she's the worst person ive ever met in my life #anyways i hate complainibn abt like. things that are not bad but i cannot stand being around her #as in like makes my fucking skin crawl makes me sick to my stomach #but hey. free ride #dipshitposts #sorry for complaining everyone it'll never happen again (lie)

[toxixpumpkin]

Some Allos think that not liking sex and in fact finding the act of it repulsive is a personal attack on their literal life. And it’s so annoying. Not to mention the near constant jumping to defend sex and waxing poetics about it, like it needs defending, when I talk about how I don’t find it appealing.

Yeah I get it. I’ve been told since forever how supposedly “important” and “beautiful” and “intimate” sex is. And if I don’t tiptoe around how I talk about it they’re sobbing on the ground like I punched them in the mouth.

Why should I mince my words to spare their feelings on sex when not a single time my feelings on it have been spared. Not my fault you’ve put something utterly arbitrary on an unrealistic pedestal of needs so much so you’re literally offended when someone thinks that thing is gross.

#Me: Yeah I just can’t see myself having sex the thought makes my skin crawl and I feel sick to my stomach but like y’all do you #Allos: *Proceeds to sob about how important sex is in a lasting relationship and how fun and amazing sex is* #Me: *Stares into the middle distance because I don’t give a fuck* #It’s like if everyone was into partner skydiving #You’re terrified of planes and heights so you don’t want to do that #And when you say it’s too scary and distressing for you #The Skydivers are all mad that you don’t want to also skydive while handcuffed to someone

[ecoamerica]

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[fluloa]

okay well now i’m going to be the one to ask you for the step!dad jake request bc I NEED IT, your jake fics are god tier fr

it’s time that i hop onto the wagon. also i have hadf a few glasses of wine

warnings — praise, stepcest, masturbation, rough fingering/fuck, little bit of awkward step-daddy jake, in heat shit, stomach bulge, daddy kink

fingers stuffed in your cunt and legs spread wide open, you hadn't expected for the flaps of your marui's pod to fling open.

"holy mother of eywa—" jake curses, shrieking at your dazed, whiney state with your really wet and bare pussy on display and he swings the flap back shut. you scream as well, embarrassment shaking through your system but it's immediately numbed by your heat fizzing up your body, stilling your mind and forcing your thoughts to only focus on your orgasm that you can't reach.

the smell of you reaches jake's nose, your sweet caramel-like aroma fogging up his senses. he understood now. why you had been stooped up in your moss of bed for the past few days, why you were so distant at dinnertime, why you had been avoiding him so much.

you were in heat.

his poor babygirl, fingering her pussy while she whined and withered in utter torture. that's why you were hissing with pain. not because you were hurt or sick, but because you were in fucking heat.

then he realizes you haven't stopped, by the continued noises of small gushing and pathetic high-pitched whimpers. "hey, sweetheart?"

you only whine in reply.

jake clears his throat, trying so hard not to focus on the way your pussy messily quelches each time your fingers thrust inside of it. he re-adjusts his loincloth, cringing at his growing bulge pressing up against it. "does it hurt? baby?"

"oh," you grit out a moan, and jake can hear the way you kick your feet against the woven ground. "mmmhm... daddy, 's hurts."

"didn't catch that. what was that?"

"it hurts," you groan. "please, daddy, come.. in here. i need- i nee... i need..."

jake gently pries open the flap of the pod once again, creeping his head past it and there you are, just like before, fucking yourself dumb with your tiny fingers. he clicks his tongue, crawling to your aid and he runs a hand up your arm, and you fucking shiver at it. your tail twirls ferally, and with the hand that isn't tied up in your cunt, you use it to slap it onto his arm and drag him towards you, piling him on top of you.

"tell me what i can do, babygirl. how long you been hurtin' for?" he whispers, and you can't even reply, only jutting your legs further apart.

jake is still unsure what to do, even though the solution is right there in front of him, right in between your glistening thighs. your smell is intoxicating him, telling him to just pick you up by your legs and fuck his cock into you so hard you see stars. "i want it," you rasp out, looking up at him with your big eyes that you know always gets him to give in and give you what you want. and right now, it's his cock.

"uh- for now, you can hop on my thigh. that sound good? yeah?" jake reasons, and you push out a reckless nod. he rolls you over with him, now laid out on his back and you practically pounce on his thigh, your gush of warm wetness immediately spreading along his skin. he bites back a groan.

you instantly start grinding your hips, letting your head fall back as your body sways, your pussy gliding along his thigh and rubbing at your puffy clit. fuck, if he wasn't hard before, he is now. hard as rock. watching his little princess ride his thigh like an animal, like a slut. it shakes him up in way more ways than one. the thick muscle of his thigh does absolute wonders for you, the amazing friction of your clit catching on the tough of his muscle making your eyes quite literally roll back.

"that's it, that's my girl. fuck yourself on me like that. using dad's big thigh for your pussy, hey? good fuckin' girl," he jumbles, sliding his hand on your hips, now helping you sharpen the desperate rocks of your body and you moan loudly.

your boobs bounce each time your hips roll, your hands trembling as they support your body on his chest and your fingernails digging into his blue skin. you're panting out heavy, quick breaths as you try and find words, "can... i..."

"hey, hey, 's 'right. use your words slowly for me." jake reassures smoothly, running a hand up your thigh and rubbing his thumb into your hot skin. "you close?"

"no," you hiss lowly through your gritted teeth. your words are filled with sobs, a sweet twist with desperation that has jake's dick twitching under his loincloth. "your cock."

"want my cock?" he asks, letting a dark and quiet chuckle slip past his lips, "don't know if you'll be able to ride that one, sweetheart."

"then fuck me with it," you manage to blow out, taking a hand and slipping it to palm his cock, tented up and ready for a pussy to plunge into. your pupils widen immensely, tail whipping up in excitement and your riding quickens, moving your cunt faster on his thigh. "please, daddy. pleasepleaseplease."

"might hurt a little. promise you won't cry?" jake coos, letting his finger trail up the smooth skin of your belly.

"promise," you rush, speeding onto your back and splaying out your body for him. funnily, your top is still strapped to your body. a bit disheveled, but it's still on. jake changes that though, as he yanks it off of your shoulders and flings it across the room. he then presses kiss to the middle of your shoulder, his hand shifting down to play with your pussy, striding a long finger up your slit and gathering some of your slick onto the pad. you whine at the much needed attention, finally getting a touch that is not your own, but your stepdad's.

he wastes no time in pushing a finger in, and then another. the girth of his digits stretch out your viscid walls, heighten your breath and make your pussy pulse in delighted appreciation.

"am i making you feel better, baby? feelin' good?" jake murmurs, and you can feel the side of cock rub up the inner of your left thigh. "think you're ready for dad's cock?"

"yes," you cry, your back arching off the ground as your mouth agapes.

"okay, okay," jake gives your cheek a messy smooch, untying his loincloth with ease and lining up the tip of his cock at your sopping opening. then he slides it in, pushing past your tight pussy and forcing the thick of his length inside of you. you let out a strangled mewl, your ankles kicking at the back of his legs and he catches the way your lips tremble. "ah-ah, baby— what'd i say about crying?"

"i'm not. i'm not crying, daddy." you beg with your voice meek, your cunt wrapping around him tight as if the body part itself did not want to let him go. milking his cock perfectly, he decides to start a slow rock of his hips, a soft pace of back and forth in your pussy. your legs are shaking as they shift to wrap around his waist, pulling him closer and encouraging him to push his cock further into your tummy.

"big ass bulge in your tummy from me. ouch, hey? that's daddy's cock in there, pushing your skin up like that." you're compelled to look at where your bodies meet, and you glare at the bump forming and deforming each time his cock glides into you, big and pointy and it only drives you faster to your release.

jake scoops an arm beneath you and around your back, using it to start bringing you down onto him, speeding up his thrusts little by little. a high moan breaks from your sore throat, hands shifting recklessly as you struggle to find a place to rest them.

"over my back, baby." he says, grabbing your arms himself and swinging them over the broad of his back. "there we are."

he leans down and seals your lips in a harsh kiss, tongue sponging out to dance along your hot one. it feels so wrong, so vivid and bad, that you can't help but let out a pathetic whine because of it because you love everything about it. jake fastens his pace, now rutting up into you hard and rough, moving your body with his as your loud noises muffle by the wrap of his aggressive tongue.

you're meeting his animalistic thrusts with your own, only they're more smaller and choppy because scrap before, you're getting fucked dumb now. your stepdad's cock driving in and out of your pussy so ruthlessly, you're going to see stars. literal stars.

"close?" jake mumbles against your mouth, his tone twinged with a sudden lick of his own desperation.

"mhm," you slur, gripping onto him as you attempt to have his cock impossibly hit deeper inside you.

“come all over daddy’s cock then,” he deepens the kiss, angling his head to the side slightly as a thick lock of his hair falls down in front of you. “wanna see my little girl come undone,” he pants.

that sets you off, has your orgasm exploding out of you and pussy gushing around jake’s dick. it shakes your entire body, smacking you with absolute bliss and all you can do is moan, feeling the tears rim your eyes. suddenly, jake is scooping out of you and groaning, dumping his load in his bunched up loincloth beside him.

you lay still beneath jake, panting like crazy and so is he, leaning an elbow on the ground as he attempts to catch his breath. eventually, he ends up collapsing to the ground, and he takes you with him. too fucked out to care, you slump your head against his chest. he tucks a lather of hair behind your ear, kissing the smooth skin between your shoulder and neck.

he doesn’t think it hurts anymore.

#jake sully smut #avatar the way of water #jake sully #jake sully x reader #dilf jake sully #jake sully imagine #james cameron avatar #avatar 2 jake sully #stepdad jake sully #jake sully x reader smut #so what im a sucker i gave in #yall already know i had to #STEPDADDY JAKE SULLY #jake sully oneshot #jake avatar smut #eat children EAT

[babygorewhore]

You’re everything.

Eddie Munson x fem reader

Eddie Munson comes home and sees the bedroom destroyed. Your mental health has taken a toll and you feel worthless. But he’s always there to remind you how much he loves you and how he’s always willing to help you pick up the pieces.

Warnings! Hurt comfort. Mental illness. I wrote this with the reader having BPD and autism. This is based on my experience. I haven’t seen much on those two issues. Feelings of worthlessness. Mild self harm. Anger episode. Anxiety. I hope this comforts you because you’re worthy of love and Eddie would love you no matter what. Also the photo used is just for aesthetic. Not proofread.

Thank you to my friends, Dolly, Mae and Em for helping me with this. I love you girls.

Eddie pushed open the apartment door, with his hip, a few grocery bags lined down his arm because he refused to make two trips. “Hey, sweetheart, I’m back!” He shut the door with his foot, did a quick unfocused glance around the living room.

“Fuck, the store was packed! I think you would have stayed in the car, baby.” He set down the bags and started putting away the cold items. Eddie yawned afterwards, closing the refrigerator and stretched. His black, stolen back sweatshirt rising above his stomach.

It dawned on him that you haven’t responded at all. “Baby?” He called again. No answer. He frowned and approached the bedroom door and he gasped when he saw the scene.

The bed was torn apart. Blankets thrown off and the pillows dented. Eddie went to take a step before he looked on the ground. Stim toys were all over the floor. Stuffed animals and even clothes. A few shirts were ripped. He didn’t see you. “Princess, what’s going-“

A hole was in the wall next to the closet. A small one but it went deep in the plaster. Eddie moved quickly. Surveying the damage, he saw a bloody imprint. Knuckles. Eddie sighed. You were having an episode. He should have known. You didn’t answer his texts. You hated phone calls. This wasn’t the first time this happened. Eddie on a number of times had to sit by your side during dark hours.

But he loved you. You were beautiful. His everything. It wasn’t one sided. If anything, you gave too much to him. You were always supporting him. Even when he was unbearable. You stood by him. He would do whatever you needed. He needed you. He wanted you. Eddie knew immediately where you were then.

He gently opened the closet door and he saw you. You were wearing a large t shirt, it went past your thighs and loose plaid pajama pants.

Over ear headphones on, your phone face down on the floor and you were stimming. Rocking back and forth. You were panting, your face flushed and he could see your eyes squeezed shut. Eddie saw your right hand. Your knuckles were bloody and bruised.

He didn’t want to startle you so Eddie opened the door further, enough for you to hear it over music.

Eddie’s heart ached when you turned to look at him. Your eyes were blood shot. Your lips bleeding from what he knew, you bit them or picking at them. Your nails had blood underneath them from biting the nail. You were a wreck. But you were his special girl.

“Hey…” He said, swallowing. “Baby, I-what happened?”

You tried to stand but ended up sprawled on the ground. He went to help you but you jerked away, pulling yourself up.

“I’m so fucking mad right now.” You were almost yelling. But you sounded out of breath. “I-I took my meds but I’m still like this. My heart hurts, I just feel like I want to crawl out of my skin. Everything is too loud!” You weren’t crying but you were growing hysterical. You started pacing.

“Why am I like this? Why can’t I just be normal? Why do I get so upset over the smallest things?” Eddie was standing close but he didn’t reach yet. You were tugging at your shirt. He knew you were getting hot.

“I can’t deal with this. I can’t feel this way! Im so sick of feeling like I’m useless because I can’t even talk on the phone to my boyfriend because I hate how it makes me feel! You shouldn’t have to deal with me.”

“Sweetheart, will you just come here for a second?” Eddie tried to prompt.

“No!” You stopped moving and placed your hands on your chest. “Eddie. I don’t want you to see me like this. Again. Maybe you should leave. I don’t want to keep freaking you out.”

Eddie moved then. And he gently grasped your elbows and looked down. Eye contact was difficult for you and he never wanted to force it. But he tilted your chin, happy if you just looked at his forehead. “Princess. I’m not leaving you. I would never.” He leaned forward, rubbing his nose against yours. “I’m just happy you didn’t break your hand.” He pulled away, glad you weren’t moving away. “You’re burning up. Let’s get to the couch, it’s too warm in here.”

Eddie wrapped his arm around your waist, helping you walk around the mess and he sat you down on the couch. “I’ll be right back, babe.” You grabbed his hand. “I promise.” He smiled at you. You slowly let go.

He tried not to show his panic as he looked for the first aid kit. Eddie came back to the living room, kneeling in front of you. “Let me see that hand.” He asked, pulling it towards him. It was shaking. He was careful, dabbing it with saline and you winced. “I’m sorry, baby.” Eddie went through the motions, remembering how to wrap an injured hand from his own share of punching walls.

After the bandage was around your hand, he pressed a kiss on top. He maneuvered his way up and sat beside you. Eddie held your leg that was bouncing. “Babe…I know for a while things have been really hard for you. And seeing all that today, I see you’re in a lot of pain. And I just want to help you. I love you so much. You know that right?” You covered your face with your hands.

“Eddie, you shouldn’t. I feel like I don’t have enough good days. I’m so tired of always telling you how bad my day was, or that I want to have a meltdown about fucking textures or sounds. I just wish I could be normal for you.” Eddie shook his head, taking your hands down.

“Hey. Hey. I would never trade you for anything. I would never want anyone other than you. The only thing I wish I could change, is how you feel about yourself. Baby, you are so much more than what you struggle with. You’re kind, funny, like so funny I almost snort and I can’t even breathe. You understand me, you are so caring and you let me be annoying when I smoke too much weed. I could go on for days.” You lifted your head. And looked at him. And held eye contact.

“You’re more than bad days, baby. I love you so much. And I know you were listening to our song, right? The one I told you to play when things get bad?” You nodded. Smiling a little. Eddie feigned shock.

“Is that-is that a smile? That’s my girl.” It widened and he grinned, cupping your cheeks.

“Come on. Sing one line with me. And then, I’m gonna go pick up the bedroom. I’m going to make you something to eat and then we’re going to watch your favorite movies.”

“Do I have to sing?” You complained.

“Sorry, baby. Those are the rules.” Eddie winked, still holding tight to your face.

“And I don’t want the world to see me, cuz I don’t think that they’d understand.” Eddie leaned in, pressing his lips softly to yours. Gently because of the picked apart flesh.

“I’m proud of you, sweetheart.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and squeezed tightly. Eddie followed suit and hugged you around the waist.

“I love you so much, Eddie.”

Eddie breathed you in. It wouldn’t fix what you felt. But you wouldn’t have to battle anything alone.

Tagging. @xxhellfirebunnyxx @reidsbtch @take-everything-you-can @emsgoodthinkin @monstxrteeth @battymunson @scene-and-dandylover @lithium80sblog @elaine-in-the-membrane

#eddie munson #Eddie Munson imagine #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson hurt/comfort #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #hurt/comfort

[thefirstforgottenpages]

Just Another Win

I’d like to call it my victory lap

Authors note: Y’all really ate the first one tf up soooo… (me acting like I didn’t read every Rhea ripley x reader on tumblr)

Also Rhea with long hair makes me wanna crawl to Australia 

Warnings: smut, hurt comfort, fluff, wrestler!reader, (twisted/noncannon storyline) Nia Jax, Rhea being stubborn, mommy/mami kink, oral, strap on (reader receiving), praise, choking, manhandling… that’s about it (not proofread, I’ll go back and fix it later lmao)

You were livid, you were positively fuming. You watched in gut twisting fear as Nia Jax went off script again and started to beat the ever loving shit out of your girlfriend Rhea. You knew that Rhea was in actual pain when her signature smirk wiped off her face as she got slammed onto her back again and again. You glance around, frantically making eye contact with a few of your friends that were sitting in front row with you. The mirrored horror and confusion that was on their face’s confirmed to you your very worst nightmare. None of this was planned. 

Nia just wanted to win. And she was going to do anything she could to secure that. What made it worse was when the mic and camera would pick up Rhea’s tortured facial expressions and pained groans. You were sick to your stomach as Jax slammed her onto the monitor covered desk, the ragged gasp that Rhea let out caused you to swiftly turn your head away from the match, scrunching your nose in apprehension. 

Nia’s plan failed in the end. You cheered every time Rhea kicked out of a pin, and when she won, you didn’t care that you broke character, When camera’s weren’t focusing on you, you blew Rhea a kiss, your smile growing wider as her eyes softened while she nodded back at you.

You showed more of your concern later when you both were back at the hotel. “I won didn’t I?” Rhea responds when you ask her if she’s okay. You smile before arching your brow quizzically. “If you say so hon…” you trail off kissing her cheek before wrapping your arms around her. “You worry too much.” Rhea says softer before pulling you in closer to her body. You can tell she’s flattered by the sentiment although when she kisses you quickly on the lips pulling you backwards onto the bed. “I worry too little baby,” you crow, climbing on top of her with ease. Rhea chuckles letting you straddle her, strong hands coming up to grip your waist. As she winces softly, ribs no doubt sore, you frown. “My point exactly.” You say more seriously leaning down to kiss at any skin you can reach.

You know you’ve done your job when you pull away slowly to find Rhea blushing heavily the back of her hand attempting to cover her mouth. You giggle at this scooting closer to her as Rhea’s arm snakes around your torso pulling you snug to her chest. “I love you.” She purrs smoothly, and no matter how many times you hear it, the words still make you beam, blushing as you mumble back “I love you more.” 

“You’re always so good to me.” Rhea whispers and the tone in her voice has you shivering, but nonetheless nuzzling into her to place several lewd and biting kisses to her neck. Rhea bites her lip, a whine falling past them anyways. “Are you up to this?” You say trailing your hands up— and much to Rhea’s delight, they dip under her shirt coming to massage delicate  circles to the sensitive skin of her boobs. “Fuck yes I do darling.” Rhea stutters as you lean your head on her chest, looking up at her knowingly, batting your eyelashes in a way you know she loves. 

She licks her lips as you scoot your body lower rolling up her band t-shirt as you do. “You don’t think I would want to celebrate with my girl?” She smiles, a hypnotic look of lust evident in her eyes as you kiss down her tattooed stomach. You shrug, hiding behind your hair while you pull her shorts and panties down smoothly. “Ah ah none of that my love.” Rhea looks down at you through hooded eyes. You moan softly as her hand wraps in your hair, pulling it away from your face. “Mommy wants to see you tonight sweetheart.” You laugh at her stupefied expression as you begin to suck at her clit. 

“Fuck you taste so good.” Your words are muffled and when Rhea’s thighs shake at your words, you whimper into her pussy. “Y-yeah—Jesus-you’re too-shit-too fuckin’ good to me.” Rhea repeats, her hand grips tighter in your hair and you know you’re eating her out the way she always craves. “Like this mommy?” You hum out before slowly licking down to her gushing heat. The way Rhea’s hips buck into your mouth is answer enough, but the unrestrained moan that she lets out has your own cunt throbbing with need.

Rhea’s eyes roll back when your middle and index finger slip inside her. You giggle quietly loving the reactions you can coax out of the usually stoic woman as you continue to pleasure her to the best of your abilities. And your abilities were good you thought, as Rhea let out a pleasured cry that distinctly had a mix of your name in it. “Fucking hell.” Her words are slurred as she pushes your head closer to her cunt not that you minded. 

You gasp as Rhea begins to grind against your face. A mix of curse words and praises fall from her lips as her hand comes down to grip at the sheets. You can tell she’s going to cum when her thighs start to close around your head. And when Rhea feels you moan her name softly into her she does. You can’t help but to stare, absolutely enraptured with your girlfriend’s pleasured expression.

You crawl back up to her slowly lips quirking up as Rhea swears at your debauched appearance. You were panting softly, pupils blown and darkened, a heavy pink hue painting your cheeks. Rhea groaned as she pulled you in to place a sultry kiss on your swollen lips. You lay partially atop her as she reaches to her bag on the nearby bedside table. Your smile grows absolutely unrestrained as Rhea smirks at you pulling out her purple and black strap. 

You strip as she puts it on, throwing your shirt into the room. Rhea’s longer hair falls into your face as she climbs on top of you. “Have I ever told you how much I like you with long hair?” You mumble as she kisses you once more. “Considering you tell me everyday I would think so love.” Rhea laughs, voice low and raspy.  You cling to Rhea as she rubs the tip of the dildo on your clit loving when you gasp out. “You’re so fucking sexy.” You hiccup as she finally thrusts into you. 

Rhea’s hand finds its place at your throat before she responds “That’s all you sweetheart.” You blush mouth forming an ‘o’ as Rhea quickens the pace of her hips. “Taking this so well darling.” Rhea coos to you whining when the sound of your wet heat reach her ears. Your back arches off the bed as you wrap your arms around her neck. Your voice is pitchy as you mewl out her name, Rhea muffles your cries as she drags her lips across yours yet again. 

“Such a good girl.” Rhea murmurs to you as her head dips to suck at your collarbone. Your moans warble unintelligibly as you clench around the girth of the dildo. “Rhea-I-oh my god!” You can’t even speak a full sentence with how good she’s rutting into you. Rhea knows this responding with a knowing chuckle. “Does that feel good baby?” She purrs to you lowly, hand gripping just a little bit tighter on your neck. 

You nod simply, already fucked completely dumb by her precise thrusts. Another keen slips from your lips as Rhea lifts up your legs, the position making her immediately find the part inside of you that had you writhing beneath her. “Oh there we fucking go.” Rhea sighs as your eyes roll back again. “Right there? Yeah?” She chides. She knows fully well that you couldn’t answer even if you wanted. But as you nod your head vigorously Rhea’s smirk deepens. “Right fucking there.” The gravelly timbre in her voice has you clawing at her back as she continues to pound into you.

“Fuck me…” you trail off in your wreaked state unable to get out more than a few words. “M-mommy please I- Rhea!” The tightened coil of pleasure winds deep in your belly, close to snapping. You’re so very, very close. 

“Don’t stop—don’t stop I’m-‘m gonna cum!” Rhea groans at your state grabbing gently at your face. “I don’t plan on stopping love.” She grins as you shudder. “Go ahead and make a mess sweetheart, mommy’s got you.”  Rhea squeezes again at your throat, and at her lewd words you moan out her name, coming with a hoarse cry. Rhea continues to piston her hips until you’re fucked throughly through your orgasm. As she stills, you pull her body against  yours. 

“All good?” Rhea asks smoothly, her breath hitches however when you press several love bites onto her bare chest. You nod tiredly but nonetheless brighten as Rhea draws nameless shapes into your skin gazing at you lovingly. “My pretty girl.” She whispers wrapped up in the feeling of just being with you. “My stubborn woman.” You coo back just as lovingly but you both laugh knowing how close to the truth it was.

#Rhea ripley smut #wwe smut #rhea ripley x reader smut #rhea ripley fanfiction #rhea ripley x fem!reader #rhea ripley x reader #Rhea ripley fic

[yanderemommabean]

How would the CEO of Smlies Corp react to darling calling in sick?

"Oh no no, goodness no!" the suddenly saddened secretary coos, pressing on her dial pad to send the call over. "We'll get you in touch with your husband! He'll handle everything"

You just wince, rolling over to lay on your stomach as you try and remember what on earth she's talking about. Husband? Wait-

"Fuck..." you groan, remembering the entire office visit fiasco. You hold your tongue, not wanting to hear the same old speech time and time again about "Denying Our Beloved Employer"

A deep voice shakes you from your thoughts, and makes your skin crawl. "Dearest? Sick are you?" he asks with a bit of worry "Stay there. I'll send over someone immediately"

"NO!" you burst out, sweating profusely as your stomach turns "Please, I don't want strangers here...I'll be fine I just need a day to rest, please".

The line goes silent, but you can almost feel the mans wicked smirk as he sits back in his chair, phone to his ear. "You want to see me instead? It's good you know who can truly care for you. I miss you too darling, I really do, but I can't visit you just yet".

Nuh uh. You won't have creepy weirdo business cult people coming to your house. The lesser of two evils would be to play to his desires, and act the part he wants you to (or thinks you truly act).

You're going to hate yourself for this. More than you already do.

"B...But you said you'd take care of me" you wince, hoping the fake pout would do the trick. You wait a few seconds, listening to the man hum in thought. Maybe it worked?

"Oh now you're just being mean, sweetheart. You know how busy I am and how bad I want to see you". His voice held a venomous sweetness too it, like a poisoned honey drip. Great, well, it's either him or a bunch of psycho coworkers. Suck it up Y/N you gotta get through this.

"Yeah but, what makes you think those people know what I really need? They'll just hand me a basket and leave...You'd stay wouldn't you? M-Make me feel better?"

Fuck you sound so pathetic. It's better than the other options, but you immediately hate yourself.

There's a dark chuckle on the other line, and you hold your stomach as you await his response. "Perhaps we should both use a sick day then. You hold some very interesting points about your predicament".

Does everything have to sound like a meeting? Just say you're coming over! "Only if you want too!" you spew out, not wanting him to hold this as something you forced him to do. Knowing he had any leverage against you just felt like a guilt trip waiting to happen.

"As if I wouldn't want to" he scoffs, grinning wickedly once again "There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, my love".

(I hope you enjoyed! -Mommabean)

#yandere ceo #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere male #mommabean

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24Leaders #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental justice #environment protection #environmental health #Youtube

[dabislittlemouse]

First one of these I need triggers for so! CONGRATS B TW: Unhealthy/Co-dependent Relationship Dynamics, Stockholm Syndrome, Dub/Noncon, Branding, Self-Branding 

What the fuck is wrong with you?

The phrase echoed in your head as your eyes narrowed at the blue flames of the gas stove. It springs to life with the dull clicking of the ignition, the sound drumming in the back of your mind like a fucked up siren’s call. It looks just like Dabi’s fire. Flickering and dancing on the stovetop like it would on the palm of his hand. After everything he did to you, the very sight of it should make your stomach turn. But it doesn’t. Instead, you feel a sick sense of anticipation coursing through your veins. 

The man had ruined you. You were fucking broken and it was all Dabi’s fault. 

You pulled back the sleeve of your shirt and winced at the healed burn marks that polluted your otherwise smooth skin. He liked hurting you. Branding you. It was his way of making sure no other man would ever think you were attractive. Insurance — ‘in case you ever get the guts to run from me’ — he had said.

But you did run. And you did get away. 

It took months and months of planning and gathering the courage to do so. One night, you just bailed. Dabi didn’t even bother keeping the doors to your lovely cell locked — he was that confident you would never leave him. After all, he’d painstakingly broken you in. Turned you from a defiant, mouthy brat into his precious little slut. You worshipped the ground he walked on because that is what he demanded of you. His personal cumrag to use and abuse however he saw fit. Even if you wanted to escape, you didn’t have the balls to defy him. He hurt you too good — fucked you too good. The feel of his cock was permanently ingrained into your body, each and every one of your holes molded to his shape. It had taken a lot of fucking to get you so pliant and willing. But at the end of the day, you craved him like the desperate whore you were. Like the whore he made you to be. You couldn’t survive a day without getting stuffed full of his cum, begging Dabi to fill you up until you were bursting at the seams. 

At least, that’s what he believed. Until he found your room empty one morning. Part of him felt confident you would come crawling back, begging him on your knees to take you back but — you never did. 

As for you, you thought you were finally free, like a fucking idiot.

The kitchen drawer rattled as you yanked it open. Reliving the memories of being with Dabi was making your hands shake — blood pumping furiously through your veins with fear and arousal in equal measures. You rooted through your cutlery and grabbed a dull butter knife, hovering the blade over the gas-fueled flame.

The truth was, you had wanted to crawl back to Dabi. Fuck — you almost did. Several times. You couldn’t get off without pain anymore. It sucked. Every time you tried to move on and make something of yourself, those fucking azure eyes would pop into your head, Dabi’s voice echoing in your head…

“You’re mine, little mouse,” he cooed — every bit as arrogant and smug as you remembered him being. “You ran away from home but you’re still thinking about my juicy fucking cock splitting you right open, aren’t ya?” 

You snarled at the intrusion and focussed back on the butter knife in your hands. The blade was heating up nicely, a faint orange glow emerging on the dull tip. You planted a foot on the kitchen counter and ran a finger along your thigh. The touch reminded you of Dabi — on the rare occasion he would be gentle with you. 

“That’s a good girl, right there…you’ve been so good for me.” Those simple words could get your heart racing. Despite it all, you wanted Dabi so badly. It was pathetic. If he could see you now, he would be laughing his ass off at how needy you were being.

You weren’t free at all. 

“That’s right, I’m always gonna be with you, baby. Burned into your memory, your body…your heart…” 

You held your breath and pressed the white-hot blade into your inner thigh. A deep, desperate moan slipped from your lips and your eyes fluttered at the contact. It felt just like him. Your skin sizzled and burned as you held the glowing butterknife against it, pressing harder and deeper to make sure the mark would last. If this is what it took to get your fix and keep your dignity — you’d do it. 

Dabi could never know you craved him this much.

Holy fuck-

Everybody SHUT UP, SHADE HAS WRITTEN DARK CONTENT AND I HAVE THE HONOR TO BE THE FIRST ONE TO GET IT ‼️

I'm so weak for this omfg??? Dabi fucking his S/O up and breaking them to the point they start craving the pain and pleasure- I AM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH

As fucked up and sick as it is, I love the thought of Dabi ruining me and making me his, to the point I hate him so much but at the same time I crave him, the emotional mess he'd turn me into, I just want it all, I want him to hurt me and break me and make me cry from the pain and pleasure mixed together, I want him to play with my heart and my mind and shatter everything in me, only for him to build me back and shape me however he wants

“That’s right, I’m always gonna be with you, baby. Burned into your memory, your body…your heart…” 

THIS LINE TOOK MY BREATH AND SANITY AWAY- Shade what have you done to me, I can't be normal after this oh no but when was I ever normal

#B's inbox🦋 #Shade 🌌 #i fucking loved this so much #thank you for the good food #dabi #touya todoroki #mha dabi #dabi smut #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #dabi x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #dark fic #dark fanfiction #touya todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #tw: noncon

[bonniepop]

character: sawamura daichi words: 1,100+ warnings: nsfw; mdni. reader has depression. angst and comfort. notes: i was looking through my old fic and found this and it made me cry wtf is wrong with me

—

you had a particularly bad day today.

it feels dumb to keep carrying the weight of that as you went over to your fiancé’s, to your safe place, but the regret and disappointment and the angry voice in your head that’s been mean to you all day are making your skin crawl. this isn’t the first time you’ve turned to daichi for comfort, but it’s the first time that you feel like it's a waste of his time, like you don’t deserve it.

but still, you want to hear it. you want him to tell you that you’re so good for him, so beautiful, that you’re made for him and him alone. how your body is the most perfect thing in the world for him, how he can't stop himself from touching you, from finding pleasure with you, how he wants you so much he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

but you can’t. you don’t know what it is, but you can't—your body feels stiff and icky and gross, and the words that spill out of daichi’s mouth feel like lies.

his cock feels so good when he slides into you, hitting the spot inside of you that makes you want to grip the sheets and keen, when his hips sink down to meet yours.

but the feeling in your chest is ugly and gross, and your stomach feels like it's going to turn inside out. it's turning something beautiful into something terrifying and disgusting, you realize that you can’t do this. not right now.

“b-badge,” you force yourself to mutter—the safe word you’d chosen—but it comes out weak and soft and pathetic. you don’t know if you can take any more, if you can—

he can't hear you over the sound of his own pleasure. “i can't—fucking—agh,” he grunts, hips slamming into yours, and it feels so good, but you feel so sick.

“badge,” you say a little louder, voice a little thicker, and the hands gripping your wrists almost instantly loosen, the heavy weight hovering above you pulling away. daichi takes his warmth with him, and you feel empty and unwanted.

the look on daichi’s face, earlier a haze of lust and desire, has been replaced by confused yet nervous fear, and god. you hate yourself for this.

you hate yourself.

“are you okay, baby?” he asks, concerned. his voice is deep and raspy, and you don’t know how and why it makes you hate yourself even more. “did i hurt you?”

words don’t come out, but tears spill out of your eyes. you gently shove his shoulder—he gently pulls out of you—and you curl unto your side.

with heavy breaths, he leaves the bed, and you can hear him get a washcloth from your shared bathroom. he runs it under the tap for a bit before twisting the knob closed, and you hear his footfalls as he returns to you. he sits by your back and places a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“come on, sweetheart,” he murmurs gently, rubbing your arm. “i know you’ll feel better when you’re a little cleaner. up, up.”

you don't fight back. you acquiesce with a shaky breath, letting him pull you up. he gently runs the cloth over your arms, shoulders, and neck, through your torso with soft strokes of the damp fabric. you say nothing when he pulls you close, and you settle into his lap, bare skin against skin. your arms tentatively wrap around him, and you press your face against his shoulder.

you ready your apologize with a pitifully small voice. “i’m sor—”

“i’m sorry,” daichi says softly before you can finish, pausing in running the cloth over your back. “i… i should’ve been able to tell that—should’ve known that this was the last thing you needed. but i didn’t. i was selfish, and i’m sorry.”

you curl around him tighter. “it's not your fault."

"it's not yours, either," he tells you gently.

you shake your head, hair curling against his skin. "i was being dumb.”

“hey,” he says with a frown, pushing you away to tilt your face up. your wet eyes meet his. “you’re not that.”

you can’t help your sobs and fall into him, and he tosses the washcloth aside to take you in his arms. he maneuvers you to the bed, and you cry against him.

“i don’t know why,” you wail in anguish. “i don’t why i’m like this!”

daichi lets you cry against his collar, stroking your hair as he listens, face turned to the ceiling.

“you’re amazing and wonderful, daichi, and i’m just—i’m just no one, and i don’t deserve you, but i'm ugly and gross and selfish because i don’t want to ever, ever let you go,” you sob.

he closes his eyes and his chest aches. he wants to get rid of this, he does, but he knows he’s powerless against the mean voice in your head, waiting in the dark corners of your mind that he can’t reach.

you huddle closer into his chest when he turns to wrap his arms around you and pull you close. “i’m so sorry,” you cry, “you don’t deserve this. you don’t deserve someone—someone like me.”

“that’s not true,” he murmurs against your hair, but he knows you can’t hear it through your pained sobs.

it takes a while, but your cries die down, and all that’s left is your puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. you hiccup and sniffle and push yourself away, and daichi lets you.

you sit up and look down at your lap, taking deep breaths, staring at the glinting engagement ring on your hand. unbidden, the voice in your head asks, he regrets asking you, doesn’t he?

the bed creaks when daichi sits up next to you, reaching over your lap to take one of your hands in his.

it's a while before he speaks. “our hands look good together, huh?” he mumbles over your shoulder. you hiccup out a laugh, watching his fingers trail over your palm. he threads them together with yours, and he gives your hand a soft squeeze.

“i wish i knew what to say,” he tells you honestly, his voice near your ear and the warm of his chest pressed to your back. “i wish i knew what to say to keep that voice in your head quiet. i wish... i wish i could protect you from it. i wish i could hear them first, before you do, so i could take them away and hide them from you so you'll never have to be hurt by them ever again.”

he kisses your shoulder. “you’re the most important person in the world to me,” he murmurs against your skin, and your eyes slide shut before the heat behind them turns into water. “i love you with everything that i have. and in this moment, i want you to know that that’s the truth."

you sniffle, not saying anything.

“if i could get rid of this feeling for you every time, i would,” he continues. “i would do anything to make you happy. but i can’t. and i hate that i can’t. i can't do a lot of things because i'm just human and all i can do is love you and tell you over and over again. i love you, i love you, i love you," he says, punctuating each declaration of love with a kiss on your skin.

"i love you, too," you say, voice broken.

"i don't think i could ever stop," he admits with a shaky breath. "i don't want to stop. but when you apologize for being with me, it... it destroys me.

"please,” he says, almost begs, “please never apologize for being with me.”

you can’t help the sob that escapes you.

he lets go of your hand to tilt your face towards his. “we chose each other,” he reminds you, eyes shiny with unshed tears. “and i’ll choose you every time. no matter what anyone says. not even you.”

you shakily grasp his hand and lean up to kiss him, tears trailing down your cheeks once more. he grips your face in his hands and presses into you, and you’re falling against the bed in a haze of love and comfort and sadness and warmth.

you both pull away and you huddle against daichi’s side, hand on his warm chest. his arm is wrapped around your waist, his lips pressed against your hairline.

“i love you,” he whispers earnestly into your hair, and your heart swells, the beating of it ringing louder than the hatred in your mind. “i hope that… i hope it’s enough, even if it's just for today.”

your eyes drift shut and your body sinks closer to him. the voice in your head is much quieter now, almost nonexistent.

he kisses your forehead and pulls you closer.

#hq smut #haikyuu smut #daichi smut #hq x reader smut #daichi x reader #hq x reader #x reader smut #x reader #📝 — my writing #🍋 — my smut #sawamura daichi #daichi sawamura

[milkbreadandtadpoles]

soup and stars

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snip: you keep sukuna's favorite after workout drink in your fridge. and no, you don't frequent that store. sukuna looks at you like you hung the moon and painted the sky yourself when you're either on the brink of death or not paying attention (it's only with his eyes, though. he's a certified rbf). the two of you have been hooking up for over a year with little conversation outside of snarky comments and emojis he doesn't get.

and he sometimes takes care of you when you're sick for five hours only.

warnings: suggestive language, sukuna being a parallel of this guy i used to hookup with who was srsly emotionally constipated and really milked my daddy issues, reader being dumb (lol me), probably a lot of run on sentences and weird descriptions but i am not srry ab it, no Y/N here, a lot of parentheses for some reason

authors note: omg hey. i have this a03 and i thought i'd put a tumblr to pair it together cuz i had an old tumblr but i was kinda done w her (may she rest in peace!) anywayyy my name is lillie, hi again. hope u enjoy this!! luv me some sukuna who reminds me of all my bad flings.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚⋆˚🐾˖°⋆｡°🎧•‧.₊˚🐰‎₊˚⋆⭒｡⋆୨୧˚˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚⋆˚🐾˖°⋆｡°🎧•‧.₊˚🐰‎₊˚⋆⭒｡⋆୨୧˚

Since when did you get sick like this?

This time, not that time you lied to your boss, you have an actual stomach bug. Stomach thing. Food poisoning from bad sushi. You don't know.

What you do know, however, is that everything smells bad, you can’t stomach anything other than a handful of saltine crackers. You couldn’t even finish your coffee yesterday morning; you’re just coming down from a fever. Everything is hot and cold, nothing feels right on your skin. Noises are too loud, but the silence is making your ears bleed. 

Curled up into the sheets, you shiver. It rocks over you, feeling cold despite your body burning off whatever infection is brewing in your gut. Your skin feels crusty yet damp, scalp itchy and pulled back into two haphazard buns. Stray strands lay over your forehead that twinkles with cold sweat.

Vampire Diaries plays in the background, volume loud enough so you can hear where you’re at within the series but quiet enough to give you grace if you wish to take another four hour nap. You don’t even want to get on your phone, ignoring the occasional, silent buzzes and flashing light that draw your eyes away from the fuzz of your blanket.

Time passes in a druken haze, not knowing whether you slept or not, not feeling entirely there at all. You fail to count the amount of times you got up to throw up or sit on the toilet, thankful the walls are snug enough to rest your head on the wall of it to contemplate if it’s worth passing out before you gather your wits and crawl back into bed.

There’s a rustle in your sheets, a distant sound of intro music for the vampire show.

“You still watchin’ this shit?” A gruff voice sounds from above you.

Your brows furrow in your sleepy haze- you don’t have energy to fight an intruder, pulling the sheets over your head that throbs from lack of everything. Horribly big hands paw at the clothed dip in your waist. And you let out a mixture of a whine and huff at the realization that your little fling (if you could even call it that) picked a horrible day to play.

“Sukuna,” You murmur, drawing the blankets higher above the crown of your head before he has a chance to yank it down and see your very unprepared self, “Not a good time.”

Sukuna, an occasional fuck and lackluster addition to your friend group, scoffs a laugh, muttering something about you really being a freak, something about thanking your dad for giving you all these issues that only he can handle as he gropes the flesh of your ass.

And it would feel so lovely if you weren’t on the brink of death.

“Eggroll. All the eggrolls.”

He groans, lifting his hand away from you in agreement to the safe word (because that one time when the two of you didn't have one and you reacted that way actually scared the shit out of him). 

“I’m sick.” You add quietly, urging your body to morph into a tighter ball. If Sukuna were his younger brother, or his younger brother’s friend, you’d ask either of them to cover you with another blanket. Or to refill your water bottle. Maybe even run to the store down the road and grab you some soup. But this is Sukuna, and-

There’s a harsh tug at the blanket covering your head, and you try to weakly grip the fabric in place.

“That’s why you didn’t answer my text? ‘Cause you’re all disgusting and shit?” He questions, giving one more quick tug to reveal your messy hair, the tint to the apples of your cheeks. The way his gaze feels makes the very top of your gut churn, and you scrunch your face as you decide whether or not you need to puke again.

“Mhm.” You nod, begging for the fabric back with a soft tug. Sukuna relents, snorting as you cover your head back up.

His body weight makes your bed frame squeak as he repositions himself to slouch next to you, and you peer at him through the crack of the blanket. He pulls out his phone, typing on it lazily. Through your bubbling stomach, confusion festers simply because he isn’t moving.

“Thought you not replying was you trying to be cute ’n shit.” A hand makes its way onto your lower back, the weight of it making your eyes bulge in silent surprise. With all your strength, you shake your head and whisper a soft sorry. He tuts, like all weirdly immature but mature, rude but nice and confusing older brother types do, dismissing your apology with a little pat on your back.

Another pat, and you’re snuggling into the blankets and letting your eyes close, mapping the way his hand feels and ignoring the way your stomach cramps. You hear the distant sound of a picture being taken, only being able to mutter a humiliated groan. There's a vibration where your phone is, and you know that the group chat has been notified of your predicament. 

“You eat? Take a shower?” Sukuna asks, mastering the art of making his concern dismissive. The silence on your end answers everything he needs to know, humming in acknowledgement. You’re a stubborn little shit who likes to suffer in isolation, he’ll give you that.

He synchs a basketball game to your TV, adamantly rotating between patting and rubbing your back until you’re snoring and curled up next to his lap.

When you wake up, you’re still cold, still sweating off your fever. You peers towards the bed, noticing the empty spot but the basketball game still softly playing on the screen. For a moment, you let your head slump back into the mattress before you force yourself out of bed to pee.

The weight in your body is too overwhelming to be horrified by your appearance when you emerge to make your way into a shared bathroom with your roommate. They’re all gone for work, and you don’t have the wit to ask where Sukuna got the time off to come fuck you in the middle of the day. Or why he was looking at your location. 

“I forgot how much of a bitchy face you have.” He comments, voice a note softer than you would usually hear, as you pad towards the bathroom. You grumble a quiet fuck you, slinking towards the bathroom.

You fix your hair to the best of your ability- standing up too long made you throw up. Your abdomen feels like it’s gone to three HIT classes in a row, hardly having any reserves to help you stand and brush your teeth. So you do it knelt over the bathtub, making sure to lock the door to make sure that stupid person of interest doesn’t see you so weak.

Rinsing your mouth out knelt over a tub is a new low, spitting the globs of toothpaste and water into the drain before you turn it off and brace the sides of the tub to stand and wander back out into the kitchen. Your bones feel like brittle, a bowling ball in your stomach forcing your posture to look horrifyingly old. It's been two days but you've aged thirty years. 

“Hi.” You greet weakly, rubbing your eyes before putting your arms back down as swiftly as you can. When was the last time you shaved?

Sukuna nods back, digging through a plastic bag. It’s only a few seconds before you’re sitting on the floor. The tile makes you twitch, and you wonder how you’re going to get up without looking like a hobbling mess. Maybe you’ll just crawl.

Soup and some electrolyte drinks are set out on the counter- along with your favorite candy. For a moment, your brows furrow, and then your lip wobbles in realization.

“Did you get that for me?”

“Can’t fuck you if you’re all pitiful and disgusting.” Is all he says, but his lip twitches into a bewitching smirk as your eyes well with tears and you sniffle out a sweet thank you. "Of course you’d cry over stupid shit like this." He adds, shaking his head. 

His shoes click bluntly against the floor, and he peers down at you with that devastatingly handsome, horribly mean face.

“You could just go fuck another girl.” You murmur sappily, lip jutting into a pout. And it’s true, you know it. The two of you have established that. He throws it in your face, too, when you tell him you’re busy or you’re too sleepy. Or when you simply don’t want to deal with his attitude.

His laugh tickles your heart, staring at him with wide, watery eyes as he bends down and gathers you into his arms. You squirm, or try to, holding any pride and ego close to your chest like a rabid animal as you let out a faux uncomfortable noise. There’s a familiar tap to your ass that urges you to stop, and you sink into Sukuna’s terrifyingly comfortable embrace as he carries you back to your room. The two of you have hardly cuddled before, the absolute most being him begrudgingly letting you cling onto him after one particularly rough night- only to shove you off five minutes later, giving you a pat on the head as if to say good job, thanks for the head, before leaving.

So this is new, awkward, when your semi friend with semi benefits sets you down with the upmost genteel fashion and retreats back into the kitchen. He comes back with an armful of products moments later. Soup, your favorite cup filled with mystery get well liquid, a straw and a big spoon.

“I don’t like big spoons.”

“That’s too fuckin’ bad because that’s what I got- stop pouting like that, it's disgusting.”

Sukuna sets everything down and defiantly does not grab another spoon for you. You make a noise in the back of your throat when he reaches over and urges you to sit up with a silent look that you’re expected to figure out. He lets you maneuver a pillow behind your back, lets you curl a blanket around your body and change the TV back to Vampire Diaries- he does not let you feed yourself.

When you reach for the bowl of soup (your favorite- chicken and stars), he uses only a percentage of his strength to swat your hand away, giving you another demand to stop sulking like a little kid before he’s crawling (crawling!) across the bed. Bowl of soup and too big of spoon in hand, he sits across from and in front of your view from the show.

He leans forward in a sort of endearing way, brows furrowed in a certain concentration as he scoops the perfect spoonful of soup and stars, holding it to your mouth. And he watches when you open your mouth with furrowed brows, lips closing around the dipped metal so that nothing drips down your chin. The broth warms your mouth, your stomach in an instant, making your face relax and your back slump into the pillow that supports you.

There’s a prickle of humiliation on the apples of your cheeks, something Sukuna would likely make fun of if you weren’t half asleep by the time he finishes spoon feeding you. And yea, there was one singular instance of him swiping away fallen liquid away with his thumb. And yea, you’re going to remember that forever. And most definitely are you going to internalize this as something more between the two of you than just friends who fuck (friend being a huge overstatement).

“I don’t like you.” You find yourself murmuring as Sukuna thrusts your clunky, metal, pink water bottle in your face. Obediently, as you always are, you sip at the liquid, swallowing down any grimace as he stares right at you while you swallow.

“You’re not my favorite, either.” He grunts, picking the cup up as soon as you set it down and representing it to you with a face.

“I’m at least second to your video game console.” Your grumble with pursed lips, taking another measly sip. When Sukuna raises his brows, you take a few more.

“Third. Second is pot. And it’s a PS4- fucking nerd.”

The part of your stomach that isn’t cramping to shit flutters, your fever probably rises, and you smile to yourself as you take a big gulp of the electrolyte solution. You swallow before he says the softest atta girl and takes the cup to set it back down.

Sukuna helps you shuffle under three big blankets, gives you your phone and goes to wash the soup bowl. You text Satoru with sick enthusiasm, to which he reiterates it in your (other) group chat where everyone just starts sending silly fangirlish memes. Shoko isn’t phased, Suguru isn’t pleased, either. But there’s an icky smile on your face, the thought of when it’ll end and Sukuna will go back to, well, Sukuna, gnawing at the back of your throat.

But you’ll pretend for today, like you do everyday.

“Are you leaving?” You ask when he comes back into the room, question answered when the bed dips once more.

He grunts a no, to shut up and sleep as he synchs up another sports game. You don’t mind, turning your head so you’re facing him. His back rests against a pillow with a floral case, one of your weighted stuffed animals squished between the weight of his back and the metal bed frame.

You stare with lidded eyes and hot cheeks, tracing the musculature of his shoulders and the sharpness of his face in the same pattern you do after he’s done making you quiver and shake and cry. The plush of the blanket is a perfect excuse for the sheen of sweat on your face, your stomach still molten lava and convulsing.

But it’s just a little more than a dull ache with Sukuna here, bored face and all.

For a moment, before you fall asleep for a third time today, you feel his fingertips, hard and gruff and soft, brush against your cheek, your chapped lips. You’re too tired to hide or quip at him in the static-like fashion that makes him laugh.

You swear you see his lips twitch when you hum affectionately. There’s a text waiting for your friends, a mental scoreboard to update. Smile number two. Four days apart. From holding a sparkler and ogling at it like a child at Satoru’s New Year’s Eve party to laying in bed sick, purring like a cat as he pets you.

“Stop looking like you’re going to die.” He all but requests, covering your face with a sliver of the blanket and looking back at the game. Grabbing the remote, he turns the volume up a few more notches to ignore your itty bitty, very sleepy laugh.

Seconds away from sleep, Sukuna uncovers it- you. His lingering gaze tingles your nose, all the way down to the tips of your toes. Your infatuation with him might as well be the cure to cancer from the faintest spark of energy it gave you.

He’s not there when you wake up. It could have been a fever dream for all you know if it wasn’t for the refilled hydro flask and oddly neat note scribbled for you to ‘drink the fuck up’ on one of your Sanrio sticky notes. There's a brief look of horror on your face knowing that he looked through your drawers to find one. 

You drink it all and take a gruesome looking picture, sending it to him with a silly caption- your way of saying thank you. Sukuna doesn’t respond, but the read receipts are on. And he doesn’t talk to you for awhile, as if he curates the perfect way to make you stay by letting the bubbling like for him simmer into nothing, only for it to come back in full force when asks if you’re awake three Thursdays later.He asks if he can still use the key you gave him to come by after the gym to shower because his little brother and friends are over and he doesn’t want to hear them blubber while they figure out their alcohol tolerance (or lack thereof).

A pearly, well built increment of yourself hopes it’s so he’ll check up on you, too, after he slinks into your room and fucks you just the way he likes- because he knows you like it, too.

And you say yes, like you always do. Tell him about this new body wash you got that he can use, that you just so happened to get his favorite drink from the store he get his protein powder and supplements from when you went grocery shopping.

you don’t even like that store lmfao

found a new prebiotic there! Saw it on Pintrest

sure

Sukuna is not immune to exploiting your obvious cartwheels to please him. He’ll never say thank you, and you won’t ever ask him to. You do it for all your friends, you tell him. Shoko’s toothbrush brand is in your bathroom cabinet when she sleeps over. Satoru’s moisturizer and favorite tooth-rotting snacks. Suguru’s blanket because he gets cold at movie nights. But Sukuna knows he could have whatever he asked for within the hour.

He’ll never address that he took care of you when you were sick. Both times. Or that there's a packet of your favorite gum in the console of his car. And he'd rather be dead than you, shit, anyone, find out that there's a hidden album of little you's in his phone. 

i’m just a good friend  *ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆

we’re not friends.

It doesn’t hurt your feelings. Because you know he’s emotionally constipated, that no one’s ever really cared. Except Yuji, but little brothers always care. That whatever affection and consideration thrown his way will be burnt to a crisp, that he’ll only ever look at you like you hung the stars when no one’s looking, or only think about you at night when the weed isn’t helping him sleep. 

uh huh, we sure aren’t. see you later! make sure to stretch before you lift!!

stop texting me, it's fucking up my music

₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡

?

#jujutsu kaisen #jujustu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna #ryomen x reader #jjk ryomen #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #my works #one shot #drabble #jjk fluff #implied smut #hello i hope you enjoy #i want to chew this sukuna up like a toy!!

[pastshadows]

Shadows of the Past

Chapter 5: Soaked in Desire

Summary: After a year of blissful cohabitation, Astarion disappears without a trace, leaving behind a heartfelt letter explaining his departure. Determined to find him, you traverse Faerûn in search of your lost love, only to realize that some absences are meant to be permanent.

Returning to Waterdeep, you find solace in the company of Gale as you come to terms with Astarion's absence. But just as you begin to heal, Astarion reappears, begging for a second chance at love.

The question looms: can you forgive his abandonment and trust him once more? As you grapple with your emotions and trauma, a sinister force lurks in the shadows, targeting you for unknown reasons.

With danger closing in, you must navigate the treacherous waters of trust, love, and betrayal to uncover the truth behind the mysterious entity's motives. Will you be able to reunite with Astarion while facing the demons of your past? Can you unravel the secrets that threaten your very existence?

Setting: Post End-Game. Mostly canon compliant.

Word Count: 6.6K

Content: Explicit 18+ - intended for mature audiences.

Warnings: [Additional tags will be added, but expect mature content / read at your own risk.

Spoilers. Mentions of in-game missable content. Violence. Sexual Assault [not in currently posted chapters; possibly upcoming - I haven't decided] Past Trauma. Murder. Death. Longing. Sexual themes. Smut. Blood drinking. Angst. Innuendos. High use of sarcasm. Completely fabricated camp interactions.

Please be warned - this chapter gets a little more graphic than previous chapters. Read at your own risk.

Aldous gives you another unconcealed, odious ogle. It makes your stomach churn. He looks at you like you’re nothing, but a piece of meat and he’s famished. He glowers are you threateningly, and you draw on the Weave almost unconsciously. You shift your position, straightening your spine until you’re standing as tall as you can, and squaring your shoulders.

The grand blazing inferno of your magic implores to be used. With a sneer, you stifle the compulsion to incinerate this miserable creep where he stands. Despite your restraint, the churning repugnance for this man causes your skin to alight ablaze under his provocative lour.

I should wipe him from this realm.

“My lady,” he tries to bow but stumbles forward, snorting to himself immersed in his insobriety.

“Go home, Aldous. You’re not thinking clearly.”

His words slur together as they roll off his alcohol-soaked, lax tongue, “Who could think clearly with such an enchanting woman near.”

Good Gods. I want to be sick.

“Go home.”

You say it in a low warning with a dangerous scowl adorning the usually delicate features of your face, having had quite enough of his dopey eyes stripping you bare.

“Your scales reflect the firelight ravishingly,” he takes a couple of lumbering, unsteady steps toward you, making you reflexively back away, “I do wonder, Saer, where else is your body embellished with such silky splendour.”

Your skin crawls as Aldous’s goggling, bulging eyes skim covetously over your frame. Your jaw clenches, and you grit your teeth as your stomach turbulently heaves.

“Is it true your ancestor fucked a dragon, or perhaps a dragon fucked your ancestor? The texts are not quite clear on the subject.”

Your palms heat so blisteringly hot they begin to glow in the murky darkness, and you ball them into fists at your side. You would usually never allow someone to speak to you in such a grotesque fashion, but retaliation was out of the question. If you hurt him, it could be traced back to you and, by extension, Gale, and you couldn’t risk it.

“I do not believe my ancestors or my origins are any of your concern. Leave me be.”

“Saer,” the way he says it sounds almost like a slanderous statement now, “I have not met many with a dragon in their ancestry, even in a city as big as this. Tell me, does that fiery temper extend to the bedroom? Do you erupt in a blazing glory when you spasm with your crescendo?”

Your stomach wretches so violently that you dry-heave. The burning disgust in your blood sparks in a berserk, ruthless surge, and your body suddenly feels like it’s fabricated of flame alone. Your skin crawls with the licking sensation of fire.

You cringe and shudder as you curb your instinctual desire to show him exactly what your blazing glory is capable of.

Aldous shambles forward as he reaches for you, and you jump backwards, “Do not touch me.”

“Sorceress, don’t play coy. I know somewhere we could go, somewhere private .”

He tries to wink, but his muscles can’t discern what exactly he’s asking them to do, and his face contorts awkwardly.

“No,” you growl through clenched teeth.

He takes another step toward you. Your body shakes with ever-increasing adrenaline and fury as this predator advances on you. You could end him here and now, and you would savour his burning demise, relish in it, but you suppress the urge of your twitching palm.

If I retaliate, it’s asking for trouble, and I can’t bring that to Gale’s doorstep.

“I believe the lady said no.” Astarion’s voice resounds from the murky darkness of the alley to your side, and your nerves rejoice in the sharp-edged, protective intonation.

You want to run to him, to be wrapped up in the safety he promises, but keep yourself firmly planted on the rigid ground with your fists balled up at your sides, leering at the soused noble threatening you.

Astarion stalks out of the alleyway with his scarlet eyes trained on Aldous. His jaw is clenched tightly, muscles vacillating the otherwise calm air.

With the sudden appearance, Aldous balks slightly, “Of course,” he laughs raucously, “the sorceress is a friend. We are just fooling around.”

Astarion stares at Aldous like an apex predator observing his next meal. Aldous sucks in a sharp breath and stumbles backwards, tripping over his own feet and falling to his arse on the hard stone pavement. You stifle a laugh.

Maybe I don’t scare him, but Astarion definitely does.

Astarion slips his hand into yours, once again interlocking your fingers together.

He winces slightly and leans close, “Cool down, darling. You’re burning me."

It takes you a moment to realize just how hot you’re burning. Your skin feels like a channel of molten flames. You try to pull away from him when you discern you’re hurting him, but Astarion holds your hand firmly and unwavering, not allowing you to retreat.

With a deep breath, you focus and take control of your innate ability and force your skin to cool.

“Do you want me to,” he pauses, “take care of this sod?”

Yes.

You yearn to see Astarion gut the wretched noble like a fish. You’re no stranger to death or murder. Some viewed you as the hero of Baldur’s Gate, but the undeniable truth is that you were never a hero. You have lived long enough to know that sometimes death and killing are necessary. It was an unspoken understanding and had drawn Astarion to you in the first place.

“No, he’s not worth the trouble. I would like to go home.”

“As you wish. One moment, my dear.”

Astarion lets go of your hand and strides confidently over to Aldous, who is still staring at you intensely with hate brimming in his eyes from the ground.

You hear the whistling trill of a blade being drawn. Astarion plays with his dagger dangerously, twirling it around skilfully in his hands while he crouches menacingly beside Aldous.

Should I stop him?

Nah.

He drags the tip of his dagger down over Aldous’s body, starting from the collar of his doublet to his stomach, before applying just enough pressure so that Aldous can feel the razor-sharp dagger tip well but not enough to tear fabric or flesh.

“If I see you joking with your friend like that again, I will be forced to spill your vile innards all over this lovely stone. We wouldn’t want that, would we?”

Aldous stares at the dagger digging into his stomach with widened eyes, tears brimming in them, and his mouth drops open in a silent scream.

“Nod you if you understand me,” Astarion growls ominously.

Aldous nods frantically, tears starting to slip down his cheeks.

Astarion smirks, pleased with the fear he’s instilling in the young man, “Good lad. Now, remind me, what does no mean?”

Aldous’s mouth opens and closes repeatedly, but fear constricts his throat, and no words spill out.

Astarion snarls, teeth bared, “Say it.”

“No.”

“I don’t think I heard you clearly - say it again.”

“It means no.”

Astarion stands, towering over Aldous, “You owe my friend your life.”

Astarion turns swiftly, his hand outstretched, and you take it, disappearing with him into the dark streets. When you glance back at Aldous, he sits on the ground, chest heaving, while he glowers at you with brimming hatred in his protruding eyes.

I doubt that’s the last of him.

Walking hand-in-hand down the darkened streets towards the manor with Astarion feels like a dream. The liquor still swimming around hot in your belly numbs your fears.

“Are you alright?”

You nod, “I’m fine. He’s hardly a threat, just another drunk noble who has a dismal concept of the meaning of no.”

“Who is he?”

“The son of the man who owns the bookstore Gale frequents, Aldous Blackwell.”

“I see… and he’s also your… friend?”

It’s official - I hate that word.

You recoil noticeably, “Absolutely not. He assisted me in the bookstore a couple of times, nothing more.”

“Have you told him that?”

You roll your eyes at him, “Gods.”

“A jest, my dear. Your distaste for him was obvious. I’ve never felt your skin burn quite so stiflingly, and I’ve felt just how hot you can get,” he winks, “Have you been holding out on me?”

You recall Astarion wincing when he touched you, “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“No, darling. I’m fine, but you likely would have scorched the skin off of that man.”

“One can only hope.”

He laughs, “You will tell me if that lout troubles you again, won’t you? I would enjoy killing him.”

“So would I.”

Astarion stops quickly and tugs your arm so that you fall into him. The back of his fingers caress your cheek delicately. His scarlet eyes ripple with concern as they search your face.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

A soft smile tugs at your lips, “I’m okay, Astarion. Really.”

He nods and places a chaste, short kiss on your lips, “Okay. Let’s go home.”

When you arrive at the manor, Astarion walks you to your room.

“What about your prize? You won tonight, and we never discussed it. What did you win?”

“My prize, darling, was spending the night in your delightful company. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Astarion.”

You bathe, change and climb into your bed but lay awake. A part of you sulks that Astarion hadn’t chosen you as his prize.

Well, not in the sense I want anyway.

Probably for the best.

The anesthetizing effects of the liquor are starting to wane, and your resolve is tottering. All your heartache and fears cascade in a downpour once again.

Friends.

Astarion’s words hang in your mind, “my wife.”

Friends.

The word echoing in your thoughts makes you wince. Your face twists into a cringe as if the very idea of being his friend leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

I don’t want to be simply his friend.

Fear bubbles and curdles up in you like a boiling cauldron at the realization. Fear that chains you, binding you to this broken-hearted, jaded person you’ve become.

This has to stop. This scared, unhappy person is not who I am.

You have let your fear consume you whole. You let it drag you down into this bog you have been calling existence. It has stolen all the joy and colour from your life, turning it into shades of grey. Your past self would be ashamed of the person you’ve become.

No more.

No more running.

Your meditative trance creeps in as your body finally starts to settle, and with a deep, calming breath, you let it take you away without a fight.  

Gale sits at the table while you prepare lunch for the both of you. You can barely recall the last time you even bothered making food.

“You seem rather chipper this afternoon. Are you feeling alright?”

Setting the food down, you draw in a deep breath, “I owe you an apology, Gale.”

“Whatever for?”

“I’ve been an all-together terrible guest. I haven’t been myself for quite some time, and I’m sorry for how I’ve acted since I’ve been here.”

“Are you ill? Should I write Shadowheart?”

You laugh, “Perhaps. It would be nice to see her.”

“She misses you. She said you haven’t been answering her letters.”

Another friend I’ve pushed away.

“I will write her, but first, I need to make things right with you.”

“As much as I do appreciate the apology, there’s truly no need. I am no stranger to sinking into the darkness of one’s own desolation,” he smiles, “I’m just glad you’re crawling your way back out again.”

“Thank you, Gale.”

Gale grins widely, “Anytime, my friend. Anytime. So, what brought this on? Do I have our fanged friend to thank for this?”

You laugh, “Not entirely. You actually have yourself to thank. I have been shackled to my fear for too long. You pointed that out.”

“I am rather wise from time to time, aren’t I?”

“From time to time.”

“And have you decided what you’re going to do about…” Gale trails off, looking unsure.

“Astarion?”

He nods.

Yes. No. Maybe?

“Not exactly. I still need to speak with him. Only time will tell if there can be any future for us.”

“If anyone can make it work with that immortal bastard, it’s you.”

You and Gale laugh, but a harsh, loud knock at the door interrupts your mirth.

Gale eyes the door, “Are you expecting someone?”

“No. You aren’t?”

He shakes his head, “No.”

Another booming knock echos through the entryway.

“I best go see who that is. Thank you for the lunch. You actually prepare food quite well. Who would have known?”

You smirk and roll your eyes, “I’m going to pretend I don’t hear surprise tinging your voice.”

Gale disappears down the hall in a hurry to answer the ceaseless, booming knocking shaking the door. Raised voices drift from the bright foyer, catching your attention. Walking down the corridor, Mr. Blackwell’s angry face comes into view, and your heart pounds in your chest.

That little worm.

Gale runs his fingers through his hair, “I think there must be a misunderstanding.”

“My son said someone in the company of your sorceress assaulted him and threatened his life!”

“Mr. Blackwell, I’m sure there’s another explanation.”

Movement in your peripheral vision catches your attention, and Astarion is standing on the stairs, well away from the sunlight streaming from the open door.

If Mr. Blackwell goes to the authorities, they will take him to prison…

“It was me!” You blurt out.

Astarion shakes his head, narrowing his eyes, warning you not to take the blame. You scramble out the door into the sunlight before he can pull you away.

“It was me. I assaulted Aldous.”

Gale bulks at you wide-eyed, confusion pulling his brow down in the furrow.

Mr. Blackwell narrows his eyes at you, “No. Aldous specifically said it was a man, a tall Elf with red eyes.”

You seethe, “Aldous was quite drunk. He could barely stand. His memory can’t be trusted.”

“My boy does not lie!”

“But he does drink, no? Heavily, might I add, and then speak salaciously to people? He spoke his filth to the wrong woman last night, and I taught him a lesson you have failed to teach him.”

“You dare accuse my son of this heinous behaviour?!” Mr. Blackwell spits out harshly, “I’m sorry, Gale. I will be reporting this to the authorities. We are friends, but I cannot let this slight on my family go.”

“Surely, we can work this out without involving the authorities. I’m sure it was a simple misunderstanding.”

Gale nudges you, trying to get you to play along.

You swallow the hatred rising in your throat and force a smile, mustering every ounce of charisma available to you, “Yes, of course. Perhaps I overreacted. I do have a fiery temper, after all.”

I need to smooth this over.

Gritting your teeth, you coat your voice in your most persuasive tone, putting your silver tongue to use once again, “I will come to apologize to Aldous. If you will allow it, of course.”

At the reassuring cadence of your voice, Mr. Blackwell’s scowl eases up, and he thinks, “Yes, an apology might just suffice. I will speak to my son. If he agrees, perhaps we can deal with this incident civilly between friends.”

Friends. Ugh. That word is everywhere.

Mr. Blackwell departs with a huff, his nose held up in a snobby, holier-than-though expression that makes you want to throw a fireball at him.

Gale closes the door, and Astarion races down the stairs as soon as the sun is blocked.

“What in the Hells do you think you’re doing?!”

His brows are pulled down in a frightful scowl, his teeth bared.

“I’m dealing with it.”

“I will not let you apologize to that wretch.”

Gale interrupts, “Would one of you care to explain to me what has happened?”

Astarion looks at him, “I threatened the boy last night.”

“Yes, I surmised that much, but why?”

You run your hand over your face, “Aldous was drunk and getting rather… belligerent. You know I’ve rebuffed him enough times. I think he took offence.”

“For the love of…” Gale’s hand pinches the bridge of his nose, “You did quite well persuading Mr. Blackwell. Not that I am surprised, of course. I have seen you talk yourself out of far worse situations.”

“And I will talk my way out of this one.”

“No!” Astarion shouts, “You should not have to atone for my conduct.”

“Do you trust me, Astarion?”

He blinks, “Of course.”

“Then trust me to take care of this as I would trust you to pick a lock, pick a pocket or disarm a trap. Charming people is my talent.”

“Ugh,” he sighs, “I do not like this.”

Gale pipes up, “If what you say is true, nor do I.”

They would gang up on me, but at least they agreed on something. Small miracles, right?

“Both of you forget who you’re speaking to sometimes, I swear. I’ve made my choice, and your objections are noted.”

Gale and Astarion’s mouths open to argue with you further, but you put up your hand and stop them, “I will hear no more on the subject.”

They both glower at you. Gale and Astarion both huff exasperatedly and shake their heads.

Did I just shut Gale and Astarion up simultaneously? 

With you putting a halt to any further discussion, Gale excuses himself to visit with his mother on the upper floors of the tower. Astarion snickers, and you frown a warning at him. He huffs and crosses his arms over his chest, rolling his eyes at you.

If he had it his way, he would be mocking Gale right this minute.

You can see Astarion listening to Gale’s footsteps as they scuff across the top floors of the manor, his eyes following the sound before darting back to you with a frown.

“You’re a bloody fool, you know that?”

“I said no more discussion. My mind is made up, and it’s not going to change.”

Astarion smirks, “We could simply kill him and his father now, I suppose."

You give him a shove, and he smiles at you slyly. Your moral compass is not exactly pointing straight. You’re not averse to killing, and you never have been. You kill mercilessly and without guilt when the situation calls for it, but you do attempt not to spill blood unless necessary.

Well… most of the time.

“No, I don’t believe this situation calls for killing. At least, not yet.”

He pouts, “Pity.”

Returning to the kitchen, you try to enjoy the rest of your lunch that was so rudely interrupted. Astarion sits at the table with a brooding glower on his face.

“I’m sorry I got you into this mess.”

“You did no such thing,” you smile playfully, “I rather enjoyed seeing him terrified, crying and whimpering like the child he is.”

“I’m glad I was able to provide you some fine entertainment during our little outing.”

He’s going to try and talk me out of it.

Astarion takes your hand across the table, “Darling, don’t do this, please.”

There it is.

“I’ve made my mind up. This is the best way to handle it, and I think you know that. If Mr. Blackwell goes to the authorities, they will take you to prison.”

“My dear, I’ve never met a cell I can’t escape.”

“It’s not worth the risk, Astarion. I need you to trust me on this.”

“I trust you implicitly,” he scowls, “It’s the boy I don’t trust.”

“Astarion.”

“Ugh, yes, “my objections are noted,” he mocks you, “Stubborn little thing.”

You flash him your most angelic smile. He groans, leaning back in his chair, defeated.

“I’m going back to bed. The knocking woke me, and I need my beauty sleep.”

“Sleep like the dead, darling!” You imitate him.

He smirks, “Hilarious."

Returning to your room, you light the fire and a candle by your bedside. Pulling out a stack of letters, you slip onto your bed and stare at them. Your fingers caress the rough parchment. Shadowheart has been writing you, but you’d left them piling up for months unopened and unread. It wasn’t something you did intentionally. Every time a letter came in, you intended to read it, but somehow, it ended up on the stack with all the others you had planned to read.

Some friend I am.

It takes hours to read through every letter, and by the time you’re ready to write her back, your hand hesitates over the blank paper. You aren’t entirely sure what you would like to say.

You and Shadowheart had been close. She had been one of your best friends, but you had pushed her away just like you had pushed everyone else away in your self-imposed stockade of misery.

A knock on your doorframe escorts you out of your thoughts in a hurry. Astarion stands at the precise of your open door.

“When you have a moment, I would like to speak with you.”

You’re face flushes, and you feel like your heart skips several beats before settling into a vicious rhythm. Your chest constricts against your raging heart, and your throat feels tight. Every nerve in your body hums, and you shake all over.

He’s leaving.

“I have a moment now. Where do you want to talk?”

“My room. Come.”

Following Astarion down the hall to his room feels very much like walking to your death. The hallway feels far too small, and the ceiling too low. Everything feels like it’s closing in on you. Your thoughts spiral out of your control as the anxiety coils in your stomach.

We need to talk?

He’s going to run, isn’t he?

What did I do now?

What did I say?

Tears are already threatening to spill out of your eyes, but you try to blink them away. You’re lower lip quivers uncontrollably.

Astarion closes the door behind you, and you stand with your arms wrapped around you, trying to calm your urge to run.

Astarion’s scarlet eyes meet yours, “What’s wrong?”

“Are you running again?”

Astarion eyebrows rise in shock, and he crosses the room in long strides, wrapping you up in his arms, and you bury your face into him, “Hells, you’re trembling all over.”

“Are you leaving me again, Astarion?”

You can’t keep your tears back, and they start gliding down your reddened cheeks.

“Darling, look at me.”

Fear paralyzes your mind and body. His words seem far away, and you don’t comprehend them.

“Look at me, my love,” his cool hand cradles your face, and he gently directs your eyes to his, “I’m never going to leave you again. I promise.”

Promise?

Astarion doesn’t make promises unless he knows he can keep them.

Astarion fingers brush away your tears, “I’m sorry I frightened you.”

“If it’s not that, what did you want to speak about? If this is about Aldous-”

“No, my dear. I know you well. Trying to change your mind would be nigh on impossible. No, I wanted to talk about the other night.”

You’re eyebrow cocks, “What night?”

“Your nightmare.”

Run, your mind chants.

“I… I don’t want to talk about my nightmares yet.”

“I understand, and I will wait until you do, but that’s not the part I wanted to speak about.”

“Okay, what is?”

Astarion takes a deep breath, odd for him, “You touched me, and I jumped away from you.”

Oh…. 

“It’s fine, Astarion,” you smile, “You don’t have to explain this to me.”

“I know. I want to. I haven’t been touched in,” he pauses, “a while. The sensation caught me off guard.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have do-”

Astarion’s fingers come to your lips, “Stop,” he smiles, “Darling, I wanted you to, really wanted you to, but when you did, it brought up those old feelings.”

Fuck.

“I won’t do it again.”

“Fool woman,” he clicks his tongue in disapproval, “I want you, all of you. Gods, you have no idea how difficult it’s been to keep my hands off of you. Well, for the most part,” he winks.

“But?”

Astarion takes a seat on the bed, and you climb up and sit next to him. He looks ruminative, and you wonder what is going on in his mind.

“I think I would like to try some things. If you’re willing, of course.”

Try some things? 

“What would you like to try?”

“I’d like you to touch my back, my scars specifically.”

He’s figuring out what triggers him and trying to work on it.

You balk a little at the request. His scars have always been somewhere you generally avoided touching.

“That is difficult for you.”

He sighs, “Which is precisely why I need to do it, and I need your help.”

“Always.”

“Thank you. We… we could start now if you’re not busy, of course.”

“Shirt on or off?”

He smiles, “Trying to get my shirt off already?”

“I'll admit, I do enjoy the view, but this isn’t about me. It’s whatever you’re comfortable with.”

Astarion removes his shirt, “I wouldn’t want to deny you the view, as you say.”

“Astarion…”

“Relax, my dear. This is the way it must be.”

“You will tell me when to stop, right? Before it gets too much for you?”

Astarion kisses the pads of your fingers softly, “I will tell you.”

“Tell me when you’re ready.”

“I’m as ready as I will ever be, darling.”

Your fingers hesitate, hovering above the scars, and he giggles, “I can feel the warmth from your skin, but not your actual skin, my dear. Don’t be afraid. This is what I want, what I need.”

Taking a deep breath, you allow your fingers to gently caress the raised scars as lightly as you possibly can. You’ve seen these countless times, of course, but you’ve never spent time touching them, not like this.

Astarion’s jaw clenches, and he tremors slightly. You lift your hand promptly away from him. You hate seeing him in discomfort and feel even worse that you are putting him through it, even at his request.

“Keep going.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, if you can get past all the other emotions, it feels kind of nice.”

You lower your hand to his back and slowly trace the infernal script with your fingers. The scars are smooth like the rest of his silky skin, but there are jagged edges to some, and you wonder if that’s where Cazador made his revisions. You nearly shudder at the thought.

You lose yourself in those lines, in the softness of his skin and the intimacy and trust of this moment. There’s no way to know how much time passes.

“Stop.”

You drop your hand away from him instantly. Astarion turns, takes your hand in his, and kisses the back.

“Thank you.”

“Are you okay?”

Please be okay. Please don’t run.

He smiles genuinely, “I will be.”

“Do you need some time alone? I can leave…”

He chuckles, “Actually, there is one more thing I would like your help with.”

“What?”

“Have a bath with me.”

You sputter, “You want to have a bath?” Your eyes shift from side to side, “Together?”

“I would love nothing more if you’re willing.”

“But what about….” Your face flushes hot and red.

A devious half-smile quirks up his lips, “Finish the sentence, darling.”

“The sensations… you pulled away.”

Astarion giggles at your bumbling with a look of amusement at your sheepishness.

“You were not this shy before, but then again, I suppose we weren’t merely friends then.”

“I am not shy!”

“Oh? Then say what you mean, love.”

Why am I being shy? I was never shy with him.

Taking a deep breath, you bolster yourself and force the words out of your mouth, “When I touched your cock, you leapt away as if I burnt you. A bath… you can’t tell me that won’t happen.”

“Such vulgar language,” he tuts with a darkly mischievous smirk, “I do love it when you say cock, particularly when talking about mine.”

Heat rises to your face, and you flush bright red as he teases you.

Gods, what’s wrong with me?

“Would you like to bathe with me or not? We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with it.”

Fuck this.

“It better be hot!”

He smiles smugly, “I remember the way you like it, my love.”

Does he? 

Astarion fills the large tub. Steam floats off the water, fogging a wall-hanging mirror by the washbasin. You stare at the bath in trepidation. Is this a good idea? Is he pushing himself too far? Should you even be doing this with your friend ? You hear the faint click of the lock on his bedroom door.

I could never simply be his friend.

I need to speak to him. Soon.

Astarion’s hand comes to your lower back, “May I undress you?”

You nod, and his hands slip under your shirt, and he strips it slowly off of you. Your chest heaves with a mixture of anxiety, excitement and arousal. The cold air makes your nipples harden almost instantly into peaks. Feeling suddenly shy under his crimson gaze, you cover yourself.

Hells. He’s right. I am being shy.

Astarion moves your arms gently away, “You’re a vision. I never want you to feel you have to hide from me.”

His fingers trail over several new scars that mark your body, acquired while you were out looking for him, “So many of these are new."

You shift your eyes away from him.

“I won’t pry, but I do hope you will tell me what happened one day.”

“I need to trust you again first.”

“I understand.”

He trails his fingers around the waistband of your pants, “May I?”

You take a deep breath and nod. He hooks his fingers in the band and pulls them down your legs. Crouching, he helps you step out of them.  You’re bared to him now, and his hooded red eyes take you in sensually.

Astarion’s cool hand glides up the counters of your body while he stands. His hands reach for the ties of his trousers, and he undoes them in a flash and slips out of them.

He’s definitely not shy.

It’s the first time you’ve seen him naked since he left, and your eyes devour that beautiful sight.

My memories didn’t do him justice.

“Enjoying yourself, darling?”

“Thoroughly.”

He laughs, “Good. Me too.”

Astarion steps into the tub and holds his hand out to you. Taking it, you step into the hot water with him.

He really does remember how hot I like my baths to be.

Astarion sits down, sinking into the hot water and sighs happily, closing his eyes. You sit towards the opposite side of the tub, being extra careful not to let your body touch his too much and keeping your knees hugged to your chest.

Thank Gods Gale has oversized tubs.

Astarion’s eyes open, and his brows furrow, “Why so far away?”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Still excessively gentle with me, I see,” he tuts, “Come here, my love. I wish to sit together like we used to.”

Before he left me...

Slowly, you move toward him, turning around and putting your back against his chest. You keep your body rigid, careful not to touch his crotch, but it’s uncomfortable, contorting your body in an awkward position.

Nothing like before he left. I would sink into him.

Astarion trails soft kisses up your neck, his lips ghosting your ear, “I want this.”

Your skin flushes, and heat pools in between your thighs, accompanied by the all-too-familiar pulsing throb.

Ugh, not this again. I need to control myself.

Bit by bit, you allow your body to relax in increments, doing your best to watch for any signs he’s been pushed over a boundary, but he just giggles at you.

“Stop giggling at me, Astarion!”

“Sorry, darling. You’re just too cute.”

You huff and scowl at him before letting your body completely relax.

“Good girl,” he purrs.

His arms come around you, and he hugs you even closer, “May I wash you?”

“You have me naked and pressed up against you in a tub. Why do you keep asking permission?”

Astarion kisses your cheek, “We are friends, no? I do not know the proper etiquette for bathing with friends .”

Friends. Ugh.

You want to rip that word out of his vocabulary so he can never utter it again.

Well, two can play this game.

“You may wash me, friend.”

He chuckles and brings a washcloth up your arm, over your shoulder and down, grazing your nipple. You suck in a sharp breath, arching your back at the delicate sensation. Astarion repeats the same trail on the other side, and you whimper when the washcloth grazes your other nipple.

Your swollen clit aches with each movement of his hands over your body, and you squeeze your thighs together to relieve some of the intense pulsing.

Astarion kisses down your neck and across your collarbone. The cool embrace of his lips compared to the searing heat of your skin and the water make a chill run down your spine, and it takes everything you have not to writhe against him on the spot.

You’re desperate to feel closer to him, to be consumed by him. Your heart beats rapidly, your chest heaves and your voice comes out in a breathy, pleading whimper.

“Astarion?”

“Yes?”

“Bite me.”

You feel his sharp fangs sink into your neck, and your core clenches and spasms. Your hands find his thighs and squeeze. He holds you steady, hard against him, and you can feel his growing erection at your back. He moans into your neck, and you swear that sound alone could be your undoing.

He eases his grip on you. Immediately, his finger comes to your chin to bring your gaze to his. He finds your lips with a growl that reverberates in his chest.

He knows I like to taste myself on him.

He parts his lips, and you skillfully explore his mouth, tasting yourself and him mixed, and you moan against him.

Astarion pushes his erection further into you with a breathy hiss. You want to feel it, taste it, be filled by it, but you keep your hands firmly planted on his thighs. You don’t want to take it too far, especially since he said he hasn’t been touched in a while. He needs to feel in control of when and how he is touched.

Astarion’s hand travels languidly down your stomach and your skin prickles at the sensation.

Keep going.

Wait.

Should I stop him?

No.

He splits your folds with his finger, and you buck your hips and groan into his chest. His tongue laps up some of the remaining blood from the fresh bite as his fingers find your swollen clit. You can’t help yourself, and you push harder up against him. His pulsing erection pressed firmly against you.

“Gods below,” he groans in your ear.

Your whole body quivers as he strokes, circles and teases the pulsing bundle of nerves.

“Do friends do this?” He growls.

You can hardly think with him expertly caressing your throbbing flesh, barely put together words between your whimpers, moans and frantic pants.

His fingers slow, and your body cries at the end of his delicious touch, “Astarion. Gods. Please.”

“Then answer me,” he taunts commandingly, “Do friends do this?”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you manage to pant out a reply, “N-no.”

“That’s right, darling,” he coos, “They don’t.”

Astarion’s fingers start massaging and stroking the aching bundle of nerves, setting a merciless rhythm. Your legs quake and twitch, tilting your pelvis further into his touch. You feel the familiar tightening start to curl up in your stomach. Your body quivers with his precise movements, and your chest heaves.

So close.

“A-Astarion…”

“Yes, my love,” he growls, “Cum for me.”

You start to spasm and tremor, shockwaves gripping your body as if he gave the command, and your body obeyed. You convulse so strongly and violently that you scream out in sheer ecstasy, and Astarion uses a hand to muffle your incoherent, wanton cries. Water sputters up and splashes on the floor from your frantic movement.

“Darling, if you keep screaming like that, you’re going to make the wizard jealous.”

“Astarion,” you pant.

“Yes?”

“For the love of the Gods, don’t talk about “the wizard” right now.”

He nuzzles your neck and kisses your temple, “Gladly.”

With one last shudder, you sag back into him, and your back presses up against his throbbing cock.

“What about you?”

He smiles devilishly, “I have an idea for that too.”

“You’re full of great ideas today. Care to share?”

“I want your hand to do it, but I want to control it.”

You nod your understanding. He’s not ready to take it further just yet, but you had to start somewhere, and this was as good a place to start as any.

“Dry off and go to the bed.”

You and Astarion dry off and move to the bed. You stare at his cock, precum glistens at the tip, and you fight the urge to take him in your mouth, missing his taste.

“As much as I am happy to let you sit there and gawk for as long as you would like, I would much rather feel your hand around my cock, darling.”

You don’t need to be asked twice. You wrap your hand around him. He pulsates under your grip. His hips jerk at the contact, and he hisses in a sharp inhale and groans. His hand wraps over yours, making you grip him tighter.

“Hells, I’ve missed your hands on me.”

You let him set the pace. It starts slow and controlled. His eyes flutter closed, and his face twists in pleasure handsomely. Thick strands of precum dribble out the swollen tip.

His eyes open and meet yours, gliding over your naked body, relishing in it, and he picks up the pace. His fangs peek out as his lips part in a moan. He squeezes your hand around his cock tighter. He rolls his hips and increases the tempo. You’ve seen him reach his peak countless times, and you know he’s close.

Seeing him like this, you can already feel your arousal rising again. Your skin flushes, your core clenches, and you want to squirm on the bed, but with considerable effort, you manage to keep yourself still.

With a groan, he throws his head back, and his mouth drops open. He whimpers your name through muddled, breathless hisses and pants. He stills, and with one final stroke, thick spurts of cum shoot onto his abdomen and dribble down your hands, gathering on his lower abdomen.

Beads of sweat roll down his temples and his body glistens.

Astarion releases his grip on your hand, and you release him in turn. He pulls you to him and kisses you. This kiss isn’t about lust, arousal or pleasure. This is pure love and intimacy physically manifested, and it reminds you of before he left.

I love you. You want to tell him; you want to scream it but swallow the urge.

Astarion grabs the towel he brought, “Hand, darling.”

You hold out your hand soaked with his release, and he wipes it for you with a smirk before cleaning himself up.

“Quite the eventful bath, friend.”

“Are you okay?”

He smiles, “Yes.”

“Good, friend.”

Astarion chuckles, but it's cut short as his head snaps toward the door, “Get dressed. Gale is summoning us.”

You dress in a hurry and go downstairs with Astarion. Gale is pacing up and down the corridor to the entryway. Brows furrowed, muttering to himself.

“Gale, what’s wrong?”

“Aldous has agreed to see you tomorrow. It says you must go alone.”

Lovely. 

Thank you to all those who read/like/comment/follow/reblog/etc. I hope you're enjoying reading this! Let me know what you think :)

Chapters Master List - Shadows of the Past

If you're interested, I also write fanfic for Ascended Astarion x Spawn Tav - Fangs and Fractured Hearts

AO3: Crossposted

Small Notes: - I'm not a smut writer, so hopefully, the smutty parts get better as I get more practice. I'm working on it. :)

#astarion ancunin #astarion x mc #astarion smut #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x you #astarion romance #baldurs gate astarion #shadows of the past #astarion baldurs gate #astarion bg3 #spawn astarion

[k-marzolf]

Seeds

Canon typical violence, blood, threats, intimidation, past with sexual abuse (both reader and Billy), kissing, dark themes, fem!reader

Rabbit Heart Masterlist.

1,022 words.

“How’d Russo get a sweet piece of ass like you?” asked a balding, short man, leering at you as he approached you in the hallway.

You stopped in your tracks, you’d been on your way to see Billy in his office.

Men made you nervous, and you flinched when he touched your arm. “I want a taste,” he smirked, as your hand jerked and you slapped him. Hard.

His head snapped to the side, and he looked angry, a red handprint on his face. “Bitch,” he spat hand tightening on your arm making you claw at his face with your other hand, as Billy’s office door opened.

You were shaking, and Billy noticed, as his eyes lazily turned to Morty. Like a cat ready to pounce on his prey. “Morty,” he greeted, casually. “What’re you doin’ here? And take your goddamn hands off her.” He asked, hands in his jeans pockets, moving over to you.

“Rawlins wants—“ Morty said, letting go of you, but was cut off immediately.

Billy bared his teeth, “I don’t give a fuck what Rawlins wants. He’s a dog looking for scraps at his master’s table, and you’re just a rat with the courage of a rabbit.” Billy said roughly.

And something about the casual way he handled Morty, had you pressing your thighs together. You’d never seen him working or in action.

“Fuck you, Russo. Maybe I’ll visit your girl tonight—“ Morty didn’t get to finish his sentence.

Billy unsheathed his hidden blade, and struck him in the shoulder, faster than a snake strike, making Morty scream as Billy pushed through bone, unsympathetic, a warning. “You touch my girl, and I go for your eye next. Match your master, huh?” Billy asked, getting his face, blade dripping with blood as he carved a mark under Morty’s eyes, making him grit his teeth.

He pulled back, pulling out a cloth and wiping his blade, “You can tell Rawlins I ain’t interested in what he has to say.”

Morty looked hatefully at Billy, blood dripping down his face, spitting at him, before pushing past, holding his bleeding shoulder, and leaving the country house.

You felt sick from Morty’s touch, he had reminded you of your uncle, rat like and pushy. How he’d watch you in your bedroom while you slept in the chair in the corner, or go through your undergarment drawer, and steal some of your underwear. He’d blackmailed you with that one. “I’ll say, look at what my niece gave me.” He had taunted, making your heart drop. Or the way he’d touch your arm softly, fingers moving along like a spider crawling along your skin.

Billy followed you down the hall, his combat boots squeaking a little bit, as you made your way into the kitchen. It was huge, but sunny looking. Beige colored walls, with light colored wood cabinets, and stainless steel appliances. There was a sliding glass door that led outside, bringing in the sun making it seem warm inside, even the winter.

You wanted something to eat. You’d always eaten when things got tough, especially carbs. You craved those often. It was why your father always said you were fat, that no man was going to want you if you didn’t cut back a little.

Billy didn’t seem to give a fuck about your extra weight, he often pulled you into his lap while he read over paperwork, or his men gave reports. Anvil was a cover for his criminal operations, and you hated when he had to go to the city and make an appearance.

Billy watched you grab some pomegranate seeds, and asked; “Did he touch you, bunny?” His voice was low, seething at the thought, but he didn’t touch you yet, knowing you might be triggered. He understood, the word pretty still made him uncomfortable after all these years. He still gets a pit in his stomach like a stone.

You’re never the same after someone violates you, and takes away your autonomy.

“Just my arm. I slapped him.” You said, biting into the seeds, sighing at how good they tasted.

Billy grinned, “That’s my girl.” He said, kissing your forehead, and you leaned into his touch.

You replayed Billy stabbing Morty, his casual way he handled him, like a cat toying with a mouse, and pressed your thighs together. “You were kind of sexy, the way you handled Morty.” You said, juice dripping down your chin.

You moved to wipe it away, but Billy caught your hand, and leaned in, his mouth lapping up the juices, making you whine softly.

You and Billy had never consummated anything, despite the teasing, and the fooling around. He didn’t want to push you knowing you’d been sexually abused. And he was surprised he was uninterested in other women, despite never having taken you to bed.

He enjoyed the companionship, the soft press of your body to him at night with your fingers in his hair, the sweet things you’d do for him, or reading together with your feet in his lap, and the conversations late at night.

He pulled back, “Sexy, huh?” He asked, lips turning up. You were so goddamn cute.

You bit into another seed, and god it was taking everything in Billy not to have you against the counter, to hear the sweet sounds he knew you’d make just for him.

“Tryin’ to tempt me?” He asked in a low voice, caging you in against the counter, you let the juice drip down, and he caught it with his tongue again, kissing your mouth this time.

You clutched his green sweater, returning his kiss, leaning on your tippy toes to taste the whiskey in his mouth. He gave you soft kisses that left you breathless, and hard kisses too, that had you aching for him, his fingers tangled in your hair, pressed against you. You could feel every inch of him.

You both spent the rest of the afternoon sharing pomegranate seeds, and kissing, both content to let it go no further.

But you realized with an ache between your thighs you were ready to trust Billy with yourself.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader

[jamisonwritestf2trash]

Please rant about it!!

Ok!

But also, I'm linking the videos just incase people stumble across this and want to watch the videos after seeing this:

HBomberguy's Video

Todd in the Shadows video

————————————————————

I'm starting out with some of my favorite parts before a mini rant bc, yeah! (This is nowhere near all of my favorite parts, but there's just so much it'd take me hours to compile.

————————————————————

Immediately starting with a Harlan Ellison moment was amazing

The "world's most fuckable twink" line absolutely took me out, but then him going into the explanation about plagiarism being disrespectful right after was like two back to back gut punches, in the best way. Because he was so fucking right about it.

The grammar mistakes he points out are so funny

Him overlaying Brian Deer's documentary over Blair's video was also great.

Him calling Blair out for being lazy and honestly a shitty person was also great.

ALSO! BLAIR CITING HER SOURSE AND IT BEING A PIRACY WEBCITE!?

Also also him making fun of how her sprite moves 😭

Him calling out Internet Historian for being a piece of shit

German board game joke

How he points out Reilly's skill and talent

"Just don't touch the screen or move the mouse awa..."

"MASTER OF SHIT!" (rips the wall down)

"There's one group more important than historians, or journalists, or anyone else with a real job, and that's gay people."

————————————————————

Rant time :)

My mini rant is just about how fucking stomach churning the second half is. Like, let me tell you, I watched that entire section, mouth agape, in shock and horror. I can bearly fathom how lazy, pathetic, and malicious you'd have to be to pull some of the shit he (Somerton) did. (The first half stuff was insanely bad too don't get me wrong)

Hbomberguy did an amazing job showing the visual of how many parts of the queer horror video were plagiarized, I legitimately gasped when the highlighted portions were shown.

Every time you think he can't get any lower, he does. It's baffling, and honestly, I wish I could say more about how mad this makes me, but I'm so mad and tired that I can't think of words so mini rant over, I suppose.

————————————————————

But also, sorry, this is one thing I feel like no one is mentioning, and it's driving me insane. I also watched Todd in the Shadows video (which is also really good btw) and at least three parts of the video debunk lies Somerton said about nazis, the main ones being, (and I'm taking the titles from the yt video so you can find these in the time stamps)

1. The SS was "teeming with homosexuals"

2. The hitler youth was also run by homosexuals

3. The nazis created our current body standards.

In the three mentioned above, Somerton's lies are genuinely just him writing gay fan fic about nazi Germany (at least that's how I felt about what he was speaking and wording things) and it's fucking disgusting. He says things in such a skin crawling way it makes me sick.

And no one seems to be talking about it or how fucking weird it is, but hey, maybe I'm reading too much into it.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed my mini rant and my favorite parts. Sorry it's all kinda messy.

#sorry its not too much of a rant </3 #also sorry if parts dont make sence im so tired #james somerton #hbomberguy #also #ive watched it so many times #at least 3 #because its so good #if you havent seen it please watch it!

[green-static]

Descriptors are so weird like

Sex repulsed? Yeah definitely, most of the time. I feel sick to my stomach and genuinely start stressing out over it.

But there’s also times where I’m like indifferent about it??? BUT THEN!

There’s also that moment when I’m like “the idea of sex and being physically connected and intimate in some kind of way is beautifully romantic.”

And sometimes I’m like “yeah these two characters are fucking. Good for them. *aggressively draws them naked* “

But like I’m still like wanting to throw up at the idea of myself being in anything sexual.

I use the label sex repulsed because it’s how I feel a majority of the time, it’s not always to the extent of it feeling like bugs crawling in my skin, but it makes me uncomfortable??? God it’s so weird

I guess I’m just asking if I’m the only one like this

#ramble ramble ramble #acespec #sex repulsed #asexual #aroace #lgbt #lgbt labels #queer #queer community #cw sex mention

[foli-vora]

Massive congrats Foli! Thanks for bringing joy and thots to us, we appreciate you! 💗

I’m being greedy and I know it: 110 “is that a drawing of me?” with Marcus Pike à la You’re Somebody Else? Angsty or heartbreaking smut? Or both?

my sweet, sweet angel! thank you so much for your request and your kind words. i appreciate your presence here! i'm always down for hopping into this universe - i hope you enjoy! x

rough lines [marcus POV ’you're somebody else’]

marcus pike (alex) x f!reader

word count: 1.8k+ warnings: angst. A N G S T. lies and deception, undercover work, soft moments, these two were so in love it fucking hurts me, soft sad smut/love making - not overly explicit but still very much 18+ ONLY.

It shouldn’t be happening like this, but it is.

He feels it everywhere. He feels it thrum through his system, mixing with the blood that runs through his veins. He feels it in the pit of his stomach, twisting and curling and threatening to tear its way up his throat and choke him. He feels it crawl over his skin, stretching over his being with rivers of trembles and sparks of something wonderful. 

Love.

God, he’s such an idiot.

What the hell is he doing?

This is a job—a case—and here he is, falling in love. 

Falling? No. It’s too late. He’s already fallen. He’s done for. He’s sold his soul and now has to live with the pain of knowing it has an end date. This wouldn’t, couldn’t, be forever, and it’s starting to slowly break him. He swears he could hear the tic of a clock.

Time patiently chips at his heart, the inevitable end lingers in the shadows of every tender moment.

There would be no ring. No house. No altar. No future.

He fights it. Of course he does. 

Despite his heart singing it’s relief, it’s joy, of finally finding another, he shuts it away. He ignores the thrill that shoots through his system. He ignores the way his heart starts to thud in his ears. He ignores the fire left in the wake of your touch.

You give him the affectionate name of Snoopy. You merely think he just likes rifling through your things, flicking page after page of your journals and sketchbooks out of curiosity and the want to know you on a deeper, more personal level… if only you knew. 

While, yes, that was true—he loved studying the curl of your handwriting and the notes you’d leave next to your drawings and memories and soaking in your voice as it recalled moments in the past—he was looking for things to lead him and his team in the right direction with the case.

He wasn’t doing it for the right reasons. 

You believed he was just asking about your friends after coming across photographs of you smiling prettily at the camera, when in reality he was memorising names to give to his fellow agents for a background check and to grow their lengthy suspect list.

Every bit of your life was under scrutiny, under careful observation, and you had no idea. None whatsoever.

He wasn’t expecting the guilt that would come with this investigation and the way it would grow, the way it would fester into this hideous beast of a thing that threatened to make him sick the second he looked at you.

It’s there now, bubbling on the back of his tongue—anxiety, nausea, mixing with the ever present words of apology and declarations of love. Words you’d never dream of hearing, yet words you’ll hear through ringing ears as your love for him morphes into red hot loathing. Hatred.

He won’t ever be ready, prepared, for that day.

The soft pat and stroke of your brush is calming in your apartment, lit only by your favourite candles lining every available surface. You weren’t into strong bright lighting, choosing to instead turn to soft, warm hued lamps and lighting wicks birthing a constantly calm, welcoming atmosphere.

He knows your favourite scents.

He knows your favourite lamp. 

He knows you prefer to lounge on the large, shaggy rug rather than any of your comfortable chairs.

He knows the way your tongue would peak from between your lips when focusing.

He knows you. 

The nausea grows.

He can no longer focus on the journal in his hands and flicks it shut, smoothing his fingers over the front cover with an air of apology for stealing from its depths. He slides it back into your monstrosity of a bookcase, the vintage dark wood stretching along your wall, ignoring the way your collection of trinkets and souvenirs placed over the shelves seem to jeer him.

“Are you okay?”

Your voice pulls him from studying the shelves, and he forces a smile in return, turning his head to find you sat comfortably on your rug with a small easel propped out in front of you. He can see the swirls of colour sprawling out across the canvas—an original, he notices with relief— and admires it as he wanders closer, sinking down behind you and warming at the way you comfortably recline into him.

“Yeah baby, just had a bad day,” he murmurs, kissing the bare skin of your shoulder where your cardigan had fallen from.

He rests his lips there, sighing quietly and closing his eyes, almost in pain, when your hand raises to cradle the back of his head, your fingers weaving and combing through the grown out hair there. Your nails scratch lightly against his scalp and, just for a moment, he pretends he’s himself.

Marcus.

He’s Marcus, not Alex.

It’s bliss.

There’s no hiding, no secrets kept close to his chest or lies to burn his mouth. You know him, you know everything, and you’re still here, still open to him, loving him… but the moment can never linger. He returns to the present, to the truth of your situation, and languidly opens his eyes at your concerned tone. His fantasy melts away with the next exhale that blows along your skin. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask quietly, tilting your head so you could gaze up at him from where you rest against his chest.

“It’s work,” he replies truthfully, letting his head hang until his forehead presses into yours, “it’s just getting harder and harder, that’s all.”

It wasn’t meant to be this hard.

The feelings he holds for you had just developed so quickly, and admittedly, he had lost himself in the budding romance. The intel on you had left out how sweet you are. How caring and kind and compassionate and smart… he should’ve stepped back the second he felt that spark of true attraction.

Maybe it was selfishness, maybe it was the loneliness inside him crying for the company of another… either way, he was fucked.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you murmur softly, your fingers tracing his cheek, “is there anything I can do?”

Self loathing rolls around the pit of his stomach at your tone, at your touch. His exhale blows softly across your lips, his head giving a small shake of denial. 

“It’s just the way it has to be,” he admits in a whisper, trying to push his unspoken apology into his tone.

He hates it. He hates it so fucking much.

“I get it,” you reply with a distinct note of sadness, your eyes fluttering to a gentle close. 

God, he wishes you’d say more.

Maybe he could help you, maybe he could get you out before it all goes too far. Maybe there was still time…

You’ve been incredibly tight-lipped about your place in this whole illegal art ring, but with the more time he spends with you, taking in the cryptic marks you’d make here and there, he’s almost certain you weren’t into this life of crime as others may suspect.

It’s not like he could just come straight out and ask you, so he was simply left with his theories until you trusted him enough to open up. 

“No more talk of work,” you decide after a moment of silence, turning in his hold and looping your arms around his neck with a sweet smile.

He finds himself returning it immediately, unable to resist.

“Okay,” he grins, eyes closing at the delicate press of your lips.

Everything feels so easy with you, so natural. The way your lips mould with his, the way you both seem to fall into such an effortless rhythm. He burns under your hands, his heart launching into his throat as your nimble fingers drag his T-shirt up and off his body before exploring the planes of his bare torso. 

He’ll never get sick of the sounds that fall from your throat. Your whines, each and every soft exhale, the muffled moans that he swallows down eagerly when his own hands explore your body.

He memorises it all.

The feel of your skin, the curves and dips and soft spots that tear the prettiest of sounds from your lips; the way your back arches when he hovers over you, his mouth crafting its own path over your skin; the way you open up for him, weep for him, muscles clenching and tightening and fluttering around him as you meet your end. 

The guilt lingers.

It hangs there in the back of his mind as he moves, his skin like fire against yours as he fills you. He hides in your throat, squeezes his eyes shut when you start to whisper the name that doesn’t belong to him. If he focuses hard enough, he can almost imagine your sweet coo of Marcus ringing in his ears.

The shadow of it takes hold when he sits on the edge of your bed after spending the evening losing himself in you, chasing your end and kissing away your bliss filled tears. He tugs at his jeans, pulling them up his legs and relishing in the warm fingertips that trace up and down his spine, bringing a pleasant wash of electricity across his skin.

“Can I have my water, please?” You murmur tiredly from where you rest in the sheets, your face half hidden in the pillow you snuggle into.

He gives you an amused smile over his shoulder before stretching for the water jug beside your bed, pausing when the page of your open sketchbook resting on the edge of the night stand catches his eye, displaying a familiar face crafted from hasty, rough lines of graphite. His stomach tightens.

“Is that a drawing of me?”

You hum softly, accepting the offered jug and leaning up on an elbow, unbothered by your nudity as the sheet slips and pools around your stomach. You gulp at the water greedily, smiling when he catches the drop that escapes your lips and slides down your chin with the rough pad of his thumb.

“It is,” you admit quietly, “that’s not weird, is it?”

He chuckles, reaching for the sketch pad and shaking his head. 

“No, it’s not. Why did you draw me, though? I’m hardly the Statue of David,” he says with a heavy tone of amusement, his grin hiding the faint wash of pink that crawls along his cheeks.

You sit up more, shifting closer to him and brushing the strands of hair falling over his forehead with such a soft tenderness it threatens to knock him down. 

“Because you inspire me.”

His heart aches at your answer, the pain spreading throughout his chest and seeping into his bloodstream. It takes every bit of strength within him to not let the anguish twist his features as you soften into his side with a peace filled exhale, a single thought circling around and around his mind with a fierce, unrelenting force—

I’m so sorry.

---

everything pp tags: @maievdenoir, @javier-pena, @lv7867, @dihra-vesa, @katronautt, @radiowallet, @januarystears, @missminkylove, @beskarprincessjenny, @mswarriorbabe80, @danidrabbles, @sergeantbannerbarnes, @amneris21, @eri16, @absurdthirst, @hnt-escape, @acourtofsnakes, @ezrasbirdie, @mstgsmy, @lovesbiggerthanpride, @coaaster, @sherala007, @kelseyxyeslek, @greeneyedblondie44, @wyn-n-tonic, @you-got-me-starry-eyed, @shirks-all-responsibilities, @withasideofmeg, @harriedandharassed, @andruxx, @buckybarneshairpullingkink, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @prostitute-robot-from-the-future, @tanzthompson, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @hope-for-the-best-98, @fangirl-316, @christina-loves, @jediknight122, @hallway5, @xoxabs88xox, @nicolethered, @churchill356, @massivecolorspygiant, @just-here-for-the-moment, @gracie7209, @pinkie289, @lavenderluna10, @goodgriefitsawildworld, @juletheghoul, @punkerthanpascal, @itswanktime, @karolydulin, @pedrostories, @fabilei, @ghostwiththemostbitch, @omlwhatamidoinghere, @cannedsoupsucks, @chaoticemz, @hows-my-hair, @alexxavicry, @cran-berry-vodka, @deadhumourist, @outercrasis, @thisshipwillsail316, @toxicfrankenstein, @hotchlover, @ew-erin, @mishasminion360, @jitterbugs927, @penelopeimp, @woodland-mist, @pedro-pastel, @spaceserialkiller, @adriiibell, @1andthesame, @elegantduckturtle, @captain-jebi, @magpie-to-the-morning, @sharkbait77, @sleep-tight1, @musings-of-a-rose, @karlawithacapitalk, @woomen23, @frasmotic, @songsformonkeys, @loonymagizoologist, @aynsleywalker, @ruhro7, @bluestuesday, @what-iwish-you-knew, @princess-djarinn, @totallynotastanacc, @girlofchaos, @pjkimrn, @bangaveragewhitewine, @trickstersp8, @rominaszh, @gooddaykate, @ms-loverman-066, @bunniwarrior, @detectivecarisi-1, @tintinn16, @iceclaw101, @bport76, @thatpinkshirt, @tusk89, @withakindheartx, @curiouskeyboard, @pedropascalsx, @sirpascal, @racetrackheart, @timpletance, @titabel, @xdaddysprincessxx, @dnxgma, @astronomeoww, @dindjarinswhore, @alwaysdjarin, @mando-amando, @mx-ferelden, @trinkets01, @jxvipike, @thesmutslut, @thereisaplaceintheheart, @scentedthingtidalwave, @mwltwo, @loveslide, @artsymaddie, @untitledarea, 

marcus pike tags: @pedrohoe04, @evyiione, @androah, @wildmoonflower, @naughtynecromancer, @quica-quica-quica, @stevenmylove, @lawfulgranola, @fuckoffbard, @dins-cyare, @eatommo, @serini-ty, @chaoticevilbakugo, @raphaelaisabella, @f*cklife_imdreaminghere, @randomchick546, @in-for-a-pennyx, @littleone65, @joelmiller81, @Curiouser-an-curiouser, @h-hxgirl, @thevoiceinyourheadx,  @shadowolf993

yse/rty tags: @kirsteng42, @insomniamamma, @albertasunrise, @oursubjectisntcool, @birdie-girl, @lepagera-blog, @maryfanson, @toomanystoriessolittletime, @cecilyjmorgenstern, @donnaa, @spishsstuff, @hungrhay, @tanyaherondale, @dreamcatcher121, @elegantmusicdragon, @aninnai

#foli's 3k #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike #pedro pascal x reader

[lomlhwa]

i'll help you feel better (h.k)

pairing: bf!heuning kai x gf!reader

preview: heuning kai wakes up with a terrible headache and a stomach ache. he finds that the only thing he really wants, is for your help to feel better

tags/warnings: fem reader, sickfic (???), kai has a stomach ache, a fever and a sore throat :(, oral (m.receiving), marking, lots of forehead kisses, pet names (baby, sweetheart, my love), hand holding, lots of sloppy kisses yay (don't actually kiss your partner like this when they're sick), riding, slight size kink (it's me, what do you expect?), unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), creampie

trigger warnings: n/a

wc: 988

song recs for this fic: stay up by baekhyun, are u ridin? by baekhyun, step? by bibi, moon by jonghyun

a/n: mom i frewed up🧍this was requested by a lovely anon! thank you sm for this request, i hope you like it! (sorry for how short this is)

heuning kai wakes up, rolls over and checks the clock. 03:00am. why on god’s great, green earth is he awake at this time?

he stays for a moment and realization finally hits him. his stomach hurts. not only that, but his head is pounding. he reaches up to feel his forehead. it feels hot. but that could also just be his general body heat temperature. 

he shifts to face you. he doesn’t really want to wake you up, but what if he really is sick? he feels like a little kid who threw up in the middle of the night. he reaches over to shake you awake. you stir and roll over.

you open one of your eyes to peek at your boyfriend. “hyuka? hey, what’s wrong?” you ask, rubbing your eyes before opening both of them to take in his figure fully. you lift yourself onto your elbows, sensing something is wrong.

“my stomach… my head… hurts,” he mumbles. his headache is hitting him in full force. he groans, leaning his head on the headboard behind him. you lift yourself up to sit criss-cross, looking at him with a worried expression.

you lean over him to turn the lamp on the bedside table on. you can tell he’s pale and bordering on sickly. you place the back of your hand on his forehead. he’s burning up. just to double check, you lift onto your knees to place your lips to his skin. yep, burning. 

“oh my god, kai. you’re burning up! do you want some tylenol? do you want a cold cloth for your forehead?” you hold his face in your hands; his entire face is on fire. he shakes his head, wrapping his hands around your wrists. 

“need something else…” he presses his lips to yours, whining into your mouth. your tongues collide in a feverish fight for dominance.  he sucks on the tip of your tongue as he pulls you closer. 

"need your mouth, sweetheart, please," he mumbles. you nod against him, kissing him a few more times before pulling away. you crawl down the bed, hooking your fingers under his waistband as you move. 

you let his hardened cock pop out of his shorts and boxers. you're practically already drooling puddles on his legs at the sight. you wrap your hand around the base, stroking him slowly. you ghost your tongue over his tip, gathering his pre-cum. 

you take his tip between your lips and suck ever so gently. he takes a sharp breath and bucks his hips up. you push down on his protruding hip bone, silently telling him to stay still. 

he drapes his arm over his eyes, his chest heaving. you bob your head up and down on his length at a steady pace. he places his free hand on the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair. you move faster, your mouth and hand keeping a matching speed.

“fuck, baby, you’re gonna make me cum like that,” his voice is low and raspy, probably the result of his oncoming sore throat. as he starts thrusting into your mouth you realize he won’t be the only one with a sore throat if he keeps fucking your mouth like this. 

you hum against him before making sure to keep up your ministrations. his whines get more and more high pitched as his high creeps up on him. you remove your mouth and jerk him quickly. “cum for me and i’ll make sure you feel better, kai,” you smile a sinister type smile at him. 

he looks at you with the glassiest eyes imaginable as he comes undone for you. he spills all over your hand and his lower abdomen. you stroke him slowly to coax him through his orgasm. you press your lips to his forehead, finding that he’s still burning up.

“will you let me ride you, baby?” you ask him. he nods, his heavy breathing starting to subside. you shimmy out of your own pants and underwear before hovering your core over his half-hardened length. you reach down to hold his length as you slide down on it. 

his hands rest on your hips, his fingertips leaving imprints on your hip bones. you set a soft rhythm to start, only barely rocking your hips back and forth. you play with the hair on the back of his neck as he tries to focus on you. you bring your lips to his, resulting in a spitty mess of teeth and tongues. 

you finally move faster when your own body can’t even take the teasing. his hands fall away as he watches himself disappear inside you; a bulge appearing in your lower abdomen every time he’s sheathed completely.

he traces the outline with his finger, amazed at how well you take him. “do you feel better, hyuka?” you ask, seemingly out of the blue. you snap him out of his amazed trance with your question. “feeling much better, my love,” he says softly. you give him a small smile back as your legs start to burn and your high builds up. 

“fuck, kai, i’m gonna cum,” you gasp. his hands tighten on your waist to thrust his hips up to meet yours. your high washes over you like a tidal wave, causing you to collapse onto your boyfriend’s chest. he thrusts a few more times into you before releasing inside you. 

he holds you close, his arms trapping you against him. you know you should get up and go to the bathroom and also get redressed. but heuning kai is just so warm and comfortable. much to your dismay, you end up falling asleep on him. 

when you wake up in the morning, he’s feeling somewhat better. you can tell that you, for sure, caught whatever he has. you both call out of work and spend the whole day in bed. and maybe have round two…. and three. 

© lomlhwa 2023

#lomlhwa #lomlhwa requests #txt #tomorrow x together smut #tomorrow x together #heuning kai #heuning kai smut #txt smut

[slutforavatar]

“I’m Yours forever Jake sully”

Pairings: Na’vi!Jake sully x Na’vi!Reader Smut

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, self harm, slight toxic relationship, spanking, degradation.

If your sensitive to self harm please do not read this story!.

Summary: Y/n and Jake are in an on and off relationship, you guys swear you will never get back together but then later that night you find yourself underneath him stringing out your feelings with your body.

Word count; 2.4k

“Your ending this again?” my blood boils at the Sully boy standing infront of me “yes i am y/n” he sighs then drops his head to look at the glowing grass underneath him “you are fucking unbelievable Jake” i scoff as anger takes over my body “what happened to ‘i want you forever’” I walk closer to him, chest to chest, face in face, noses basically touching “I do want you forever” I feel him place his big warm hand on my arm, i let out a sigh at his touch “you can’t say that while breaking up with me, how many times do you plan on breaking up with me” I shout as I pull my arm out of grasp “this is the last time y/n” he looks at me with pleading eyes. I let out a laugh “thats what you said the past 4 times you’ve broken up with me, im so sick of you, you break my heart, i hurt myself then you come back, we fuck then get back together. Its a never ending story with you Jake Sully” Tears well in my eyes as sadness rolls over me “why do you take me back everytime then” he walks closer to me awaiting my answer “maybe I’m out of my head, maybe I’m out of my mind, but your so good and I can’t explain it, what can I say it’s complicated, no matter what you say, don’t matter what you do, I only want you.” I try and blink away the tears in my eyes that are blocking my view of the boy infront of me but they roll down my cheeks “i dont want to be the reason you hurt yourself” he grabs my wrists and places soft kisses over the freshly healed scars, i wince at the sight, I love this boy more then I love myself that’s why I cannot leave him even if it’s hurting me. “I must leave you y/n, it’s hurting us both” he drops my wrist and looks down at my face awaiting my response “i cannot do this anymore, don’t come crawling back” I look at him coldly then I turn to face the other direction and I leave the sully boy standing there alone.

An hour later

‘Scars on my body so I can take you wherever I like’ I slowly drag my knife across the skin on my wrist, i hiss at the stinging feeling that spreads across my arm. Im not good enough, tears roll down my cheeks as thoughts flood my mind as i slice my wrist to release my pain and anger.

I dont know how i ended up here but here I am walking into Jakes room, i look at the man sleeping in his bed, i lift the covers up and I crawl in next to him trying not to wake him. I cling close to him and I place soft kisses on his neck, he softly stirs in his sleep “y/n?” His voice is groggy and low “i need you” i climb ontop of his body and I place sloppier kisses on his neck “what happened too ‘don’t come crawling back’” He places his hands on my waist and stares up at me “i missed you” i mumble against his warm skin “you came back like i knew you would'' he pushes my hips to grind against him, we both let out a groan at the friction. “I’ll never get enough of you y/n” he whispers in my ear, his hot breath fans on my ear making the pit in my stomach grow larger for him, i lick a stripe up his neck to behind his ear and i softly suck on his soft spot behind his ear, he lets out a soft whimper into my ear and grips my ass tight. Before I could make another move he flips us so he’s on top of me now “hurry up and get inside of me please” i let out a whine, it’s moments like this i crave, yet we fuck like there’s no feelings except hate it is full of love somehow, this is mine and jake Sully’s fucked up relationship our love is expressed by hurting eachother then fucking like we hate eachother. I feel his long thick fingers graze against my thigh and he pulls my loincloth to the side, he runs a finger through my slick heat and his eyes widen “so wet already” he places a light spank on my wet pussy, i let out a gasp as the palm of his hand hits my clit “please” i place my hand on his shoulders and i squeeze them hard. He pulls his loincloth to the side exposing his hard thick cock, he runs it against my heat then slowly slides inside me, i gasp as i feel the veins on his cock graze my gummy pussy walls “mm thats it y/n suck me in” he looks down at me as his whole cock squeezes inside of me “this little pussy of yours always welcomes me so well” he groans as he slowly pulls out the smashes back inside of me “fuck” i close my eyes, I feel his lips crash onto mine as his thrusts quicken, our lips dance together and tears well in my eyes, he hurts me so much emotionally breaking up with me 24/7 but I love him so much, I let out a cry into his mouth as tears roll down my face. I’m not crying because he is hurting me im crying because this is the only way I feel close with him when my body is sucking him in, he bites down on my lip enough to almost draw crimson but then pulls away in search for air, i open my eyes and i stare at the green eyed boy on top of me “stop crying y/n i love you” he places a kiss on my cheek then grabs my wrists “whyd you come back y/n” he brings his free hand to my face and uses his thumb to wipe the hot tears rolling down my cheeks “i want you forever even when we’re not together, scars on my body so I can take you wherever” a sob mixed with a moan escapes my lips, he examines my wrists then lets out a sigh, he bring his lips to my fresh cuts and places kisses on them “stop please i must get over you jake” i let out a cry “if you wanted to get over me baby you wouldn’t be underneath me right now” he places my hands on his chest and he takes my face in his hands as he slows his thrusts “i love you more then anything y/n, i hate seeing you hurt yourself because of me then coming and letting me fuck you like this” tears well in his eyes, i sit up. i sit on his lap and i wrap my legs around his torso with my arms wrapped around his neck “were so complicated jake” i grind against him “i know but i cant leave you, your my drug” he wraps his strong arms around my torso, his body heat radiating off onto making me even wetter “feel so good wrapped around me” he groans as I grind against him faster “dont break my heart again” i rest my head on his shoulder and he thrusts into me “i wont baby” i run my fingers through his hair as he pounds into me from below “i just wanna be good enough for you” I cry into his neck “you are good enough for me baby, i love you” he holds me tight.

“Loving someone doesn’t mean you hurt them” i rock my hips against him faster letting out my pain and anger “i know i know, ill never hurt you again ma y/n” i scoff as i hear his words “your words mean nothing, fuck me like you mean it” I groan as I grind harder against him, he lets out a huff then pounds into me from below, his cock twitches inside of me “so good” he mumbles as he takes a fist full if my hair into his hand and tugs my head back “so beautiful baby” i feel myself getting closer to my high, i let out a soft whimper as he stares me down “p-please” i close my eyes in exhaustion “please what baby?” he tugs harder on my hair as he slows down his thrusts, my eyes fly open “no no dont stop” i let out a whimper “well keep those pretty little eyes open for me” he regains his speed again as our eyes lock. I lower my hand down to my clit and i rub slow circles on it “what do you think your doing” jake snaps “need to cum so badly” i whine and I speed up my motions on my clit, he grabs my hand and pulls it away “my cock not good enough for you slut?” he pounds into me harder “it is, you know it is” i groan as he grabs my throat “touch yourself like the whore you are” He watches my hand travel down to my pussy, i start rubbing myself again and his breath hitches “pathetic” he groans and i ignore his words. A pit grows in my stomach as I feel my orgasm creeping closer “please let me cum” i rest my head on his shoulder and I bite down on his shoulder “not yet” he grabs my waist tight “hold it until i'm ready” I whimper in his ear as he spanks my ass, i'm on the brink of my orgasm and i clench around his thick cock “do that again baby” he groans in my ear, i listen to his instructions and I clench myself around him earning a groan from him “gonna cum with me pretty girl?” he pants “yes daddy” his cock twitches at the name “let go” i let go at his words and my orgasm washes over me, “oh jake” i let out a breathy moan as I clench harder around him “cumming, im cumming” he lets out a moan as he rutts his hot seed into my pussy, my legs start to shake at the pleasure as he still pounds into me riding out our high. Once were both finished our high he stops his movements “that was..awesome” he places a kiss on my head i rest my head on his shoulder. I pull away from Jake and I bring myself to my feet, i put my clothing back on not saying a word to jake. “Y/n” he stands up and places a hand on my shoulder “where are you going” he rubs my shoulder softly as I tie up my loincloth resting on my waist “ im going back” I reply blankly and I pull my body away from him “we cant just fuck and not talk about this and you leave” he starts putting his clothing back on “like you said were over” I shrug “no y/n get here now your not walking out of here, get your ass on that fucking bed and we are talking about sorting everything out” I turn to face the blue boy “sort things out?” rage washing over me “Two hours ago you broke up with me now your demanding me to sort things out with you” I scoff “you dont get to pick and choose when we are together jake” he looks taken back by my words “y/n your hurting yourself we must talk” he looks down at my wrist “YOU are the reason i hurt myself jake. YOU break my heart, you tell me you love me, break my heart then fuck me like nothing happened, am I just a warm hole to you for you to use whenever you feel like it” Tears well in my eyes, his gaze softens at my words “no of course not y/n J am not using you” He walks towards me slowly “stop” i put my arm out so he cannot walk any closer towards me “i could have anyone else but i chose to stay with you. I chose to stay with you after you break my heart constantly and make me feel used” my voice trembles as tears roll down my cheeks “i could find someone w-who loves me for me, not just loves my body and loves fucking me” I wrap my arms around my body and i hug myself tight “your so stupid y/n if you think im using you for your body” he scoffs as he pulls me into a hug.

“i love you so much y/n but we fight so much and I get so mad so I guess i try and show my love when our bodies are close like that, you are so incredibly smart and beautiful y/n, you show me what love is and I break your heart every single time because i’m a scared idiot. But trust me, seeing you hurt yourself like this” he pulls away and grabs my hand and looks at my cuts “it breaks my heart to know you feel like you must hurt yourself because of me” tears roll down his cheeks, i look up at him not saying a word “i know im a skxwang for not showing you love but trust me i love you y/n and if you take me back I promise I’ll show you how much i love you” he looks down at me with pleading eyes. Were both standing here, chest to chest with hot tears rolling down our cheeks and our hearts in our hands “please dont break my heart again, or i think i'll break” I let out a sob as i finish my words “i promise ma y/n, if you promise me to never hurt yourself like this again” He winces as he looks at the injuries on my wrist “i promise jake” i smile softly “if you ever feel like your gonna do that to yourself come to me, tell me please, give me your pain I can handle it” He squeezes my hand as he lets out a sob “we’ll suffer together y/n” he pulls my body to his and holds me tight “im yours forever jake sully.”

Short one sorry <3

#Short #Jake sully #Jake #sully #imagine #jake x reader #jake sully x reader #avatar #avatar way of water #neteyam sully #neteyam sully smut #neteyam x reader #neteyam imagine #lo’ak imagine #lo’ak sully #requests #neteyam #jake sully smut