#like when did the hatred stop and when did they decide to grow up? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iwaasfairy · 6 months

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┌─ “ ! „ CADAVER

tw. wound fucking, blood, gore, don’t read this if you’re squeamish!!, somnophilia, oral, noncon, megumi is delusional in this, yandere, belly bulge but gross! , cannibalistic thoughts wordcount. 6.4k

a/n. this one,,, was me pushing myself to just go buck wild, and channel my inner junji, and i think i got somewhere with it... a select few of you will understand me when i say that ,, this is like my love letter to megumi fr ♡ like i said though, this one might be the one that has people a little yucked out but! it's basically my halloween fic, for the spooky month

fushiguro megumi x fem!reader

When the rattling of the stretcher finally quiets in the halls and the rising rate of adrenaline starts to flatten out, Megumi’s lost on what to do. Any of the other sorcerers can’t decide what the next step is either, it seems. Yuji with his back pressed against the glass and staring off into the empty part of the hall they just came from, and principal Yaga a stern quietness and arms crossed. Ieiri-san will do her best work today of any days if there’s anything to be done about it, but Megumi can tell. That uncertainty hangs over all of them as the faint breathing of a collapsed body grows more pitched and panicked.

Megumi always sort of hated you. He didn’t like you from the second he first met you, and it just grew and grew and grew from there. He hates your stupid demeanor with your higher-than-thou morals and your sky-high milestones and that grin that could make even the coldest heart split in two. It doesn’t escape him that this is the same reason he always did enjoy Maki, but you were — more recognizable to him, and yet somehow much further away.

He always hated the way he’d catch himself watching the soft motion of your lashes, or how your mouth would form words, the heat that would carry color to your face. He always hated the quiet moments you’d sit by his side, rattling his heart out of his chest and laughing at him for his hot cheeks; and he always hated how you’d be the thought on his mind right after he’d made sure his own limbs hadn’t yet been blown to bits. But standing with his hands covered in a coating of blood that isn’t his, dripping onto the panes of the old flooring, he wonders what that hatred ever really got him. It never helped him understand you better, that for someone so alike himself, you were so much better at everything.

His chest is rising and falling too fast.

Gojo’s too late, always is when it comes down to the wire, Megumi thinks as the lankier man rushes through and stops a few feet away from them. Yaga’s brow pinches, before he lifts his head the slightest bit to acknowledge the white blond. “What’s the status,” Gojo has to ask, and before he has another conscious thought, Megumi’s furiously rubbing his hands over his sweater in an attempt to get the blood off while his teeth clack with how hard he’s clenching them. There’s a thickness between his ears that makes everything sound far off. The blood stains his fingers the more he rubs, and his face gets hotter and hotter as it lasts.

But he thinks he hears the principal explain.

How you had been pinned down and knocked clean out, head bashed against the concrete pillars. How Megumi had been too busy trying and failing to keep the uglier curse from blasting you both to shit, to notice. How the other special grade had picked you up by the neck and unceremoniously shoved something into your mouth and pushed until it went down your throat - until you started convulsing, spitting out blood and bile before he could reach you. Megumi hadn’t taken the time to look then, but he knows now what it was, slimy, decaying contents of a little vial that had gone missing a few months ago.

“The girl must’ve been a real good match.” Yaga pushes his fingers to his brow, as if forcibly trying to push the frown down. “Ieiri’s doing what she can.” It doesn’t make any of them feel better when Gojo clicks his tongue and aims his eyes at the door, before casting a quick glance at Megumi under thick, blond lashes. He wants to puke. He’d shoved his fingers down your throat for what felt like hours, trying desperately to get you to throw up the curse. Had carried you all the way back while you were sobbing and wailing in pain. Nothing.

If even the worst case repeats itself, they’ll have another incarnation on their hands, and the noose will be tightened around your throat. Yuji must have already realized this, because he’s yet to say anything since you’d been tied onto the stretcher with blood pouring out of your nose and ears and coughing up grime. Megumi’s not even sure if Ieiri would hesitate to put you down without a second warning before it gets to the same turning point. And he is pissed. At the situation, his friends, himself, you. He’s so angry his hands shake, and so angry tears start stinging behind his eyes, feeling like any motion might cause him to throw up. He hates you.

Your chest’s rising with big motions up and down, up and down, as you drum your feet on his bedsheets like an excited rabbit. Megumi grunts, snatches the book from your hands and tosses it back down with the others that were not-so-neatly stacked on his desk. Your shape on his bed makes a dent in his mind that he’ll have to keep replaying over and over when he closes his eyes, and it has a frown pulling his eyebrows down automatically. “So grumpy,” you yawn, and also roll over onto your stomach to tuck your legs to your core, lifting one hand to rest your face into it.

“This isn’t your room.”

“Might as well be,” you giggle back, and he watches for a moment as your hair falls along your shoulders in a gentle brush, making you look even more enchanting. You’re soft and parts of you are shiny like silk, seemingly oozing your rosy, peachy aura all over his stuff. You catch his eyes for just a few breaths, still rising your chest too distractingly, before you push yourself up and slide off the bed to walk up to him. He pivots to thumb through the notes on his desk again, to be farther away from your face probably, and his shoulders rise into an uncomfortable pinch when you approach, feet patting on his floor. “Megumi.” You say his name with a clear pout.

Then heat covers his skin at the base of his throat and he freezes, letting the way you drag your soft lips over his pulse fill him up entirely. His hands shake too hard to keep a grip on the paper, so he spins you around and shoves you back against the desk as you hiss at the sudden painful grip, his fist wrapped into the collar of your shirt. “I already told you to stop doing that.” He hisses, and your eyes are wide and glittering like diamonds, beautiful color peering up at him.

“But you like it when I do that,” you whisper back ever so softly, and his head feels like it’s splitting at the seams, cracking his skull under a non-escapable pressure. He can’t think, can’t even eat normally without the ghost of you hanging over him and shaking him up. It’s unbearable even when you’re not around. His fist unclenches from the flimsy fabric to instead grip your chin with his thumb, and his heart bangs against his ribcage harder than can be normal. Harder than is healthy. A little thought in the back of his skull begs to push. Just once, deny you from digging your claws deeper into him— but he’s already melted to your shape before he can blink.

His face drops like you’re magnetic, thighs pushing you further into the desk and also into him; and it’s truly embarrassing that his hands are still shaking like they do. You lean in when he does, and let your lips meet his hungry, treacherous mouth, other hand sliding to your waist to pull you closer. Your tongue brushes his and he implodes inside, and he swears it hurts to be this close to you.

Not that you care. Your arms wind around his neck to pull him even closer, and his blood feels like it’s boiling under his skin.

He finds himself wandering back to the quieter wing of the school when the sun’s already dipped far past the horizon, and the cold starts picking up. He’s dragging his feet, so he won’t fucking rush back to the room he finds himself thinking about so fast he stumbles. He’s glaring at the patterns in the floorboards so he doesn’t cry. You’re stable- quiet puffs of air escaping your nose every few seconds, but you’re still under surveillance. As far as the clans are concerned, they’ll put something sharp between your eyes sooner rather than later, before whatever’s slumbering inside you wakes up. But Gojo’s fighting for you. It makes him grimace to think about.

Knocking his knuckles onto the doorframe, he enters the dimly lit room. Nanami doesn’t stand when he spots him, but does uncross his legs as he takes a deep breath. Neither of them speak for a while, and the dark haired man takes that time to run his eyes over you. You’re not as dirty as you were when you first got back, shivering and shaking. You’re no longer dripping with blood, though he’s sure if he were to look close enough, he’d still be able to see flecks of it between your cracked lips. As he walks up, he finds himself thinking that you look strangely peaceful, and that doesn’t seem entirely right.

Save for the bloody mark that seems branded into your forehead, you look like you’re quietly sleeping on the metal slab that supports your body. After all the pain and agony you’ve caused in him, sleepless nights and long days of wondering, hoping you’d be okay. Why is it that he’s the one affected by you? Why is it that he’s the one who’s going to have to say goodbye again? He stares at your unmoving form as if that’ll give him an answer, but it doesn’t. And the pit in his stomach swells again. He’s just so angry all the time. Megumi breathes out. “It’s my turn to take watch for a while.”

“You’re early,” Nanami’s deep baritone chastises, but he gets up from the seat anyway. He smooths out the wrinkles in his suit, before slowly placing a hand on the other’s shoulder. The weight is heavy, and somehow doesn’t soothe him at all. But there’s an attempt, he guesses. He’s still not entirely sure why everyone is looking at him like he’s the one who needs it most, broken and disheveled and mourning. He’s been able to finish his tasks like everyone else has, and he can banish the thought of you when he’s supposed to focus on work— at least, mostly. He doesn’t need the fucking pity. “Want some coffee? Or green tea?” Nanami asks, letting his hand slide off when Megumi shrugs.

“No. I’m okay.”

The older man seems to hesitate, simply nodding when he walks past. Before closing the door behind him, he once again clears his voice, and Megumi turns over his shoulder. The blond has this look in his eyes, of pity, as he talks. “Megumi, there’s a chance she pulls through.” Why again - that fucking pity? “Don’t give up.” Though it makes him tingle with an unbearable sort of itch deep under the skin, he grits his teeth, and his brain’s hot and irritated when he responds.

“I wasn’t going to.” Nanami doesn’t seem to believe him, but still softly slides the door closed behind him, and when the footsteps grow softer and softer, Megumi allows for a second to collect himself. He braces his hands onto the metal as he leans in, close enough to feel just the slightest bit of your warmth on his fingers, and see the way you’re still breathing, though shallow, too faint for his liking. His brows pinch when he finds himself with his forehead pressed to your stomach, hunched over like he’s praying at your shrine or something. But he can’t help it.

As much time as he spent beside you with a frown on his face, it never feels enough. He can’t stay away, like it’s an involuntary thing— you leave him no choice in the matter. Even here in the darkness, whining softly into your wheezed breaths, it isn’t enough to be beside you. He can’t do anything from here at your bedside; and that uselessness makes him feel even more uneasy. He needs to be closer to you. Wants to be so close you two get stuck together and melt together like an inseparable entity, would want to crawl inside you if he could.

His nose presses into the clean shirt that smells like your laundry, as he clenches his fists so hard along the table edge they start to ache. His eyes are pressed closed tight when he allows him just a second to nose below your sternum, and that uncomfortable stinging sensation comes back to his eyes. “Fucking idiot,” his lips brush against your covered skin, taking in the lack of heat, of your smell and the way you sounded with his face buried there, “I didn’t mean it.”

“Aw, ow, ow, Megumi~” You pout with a pitched whine as his hand stays screwed around your knee for a little longer, keeping you trapped under his heavier, taller body so that you start wiggling. Your head falls back against his arm, and you lean to press a few kisses to his wrist that’s holding your own to the floor. “Be more gentle.” You pout when you pull back and flash him that fucking look that sends icy shivers down his spine, and exactly nothing else. “You can be gentle, can’t you?” Every other part of him flushes with heat under your doe-eyed, pitiful look, definitely when you start wiggling out of his grasp like you’re suddenly over the game.

You started it. He wouldn’t put himself in your range on purpose. When you’re about halfway out from under his crouched form, you sit up to be face to face; and you brush your hand past his ear, down his jaw and neck and trail his collarbones, all places he’s convinced are now stained a bright, obnoxious pink from his flush. You let your fingers linger when you tilt your head aside a bit so you can slot your lips over his into a sweet, little kiss, and you pull your lips into another pout. “Swear you’re doing it to hurt me sometimes. I’m never trying to hurt you, you know.” A few strands of hair fall over your eye when you sit below him, and he has to fight every single muscle in his body not to push it back for you.

He wants to see your eyes. He wants you to see him like this, pinned under you like the attraction you render him as— his body collapses on top of you as you start giggling all fucking cutely, and his heart races more than it ever has. Your heartbeat drums into his face when he buries it into your softness, chest against his cheek, too long for his own sanity before he drags himself off you. And it is a drag. His entire body starts feeling sluggish when you’re this close to him, close enough to drown himself in your scent. He won’t ever say it, but that scent gets him hard and awfully mellow all at once, his cock coming to life in his pants before he’s moving.

You look happy. Your eyes are those bright, gentle colors that rain down on him, and your lips are quirked into a soft smile, you must know what you’re doing to him. Setting him up for failure again. He huffs and pushes himself onto his back instead, knocking his head to the floor while you’re moving from the rug - splaying your knees either side of him before you nuzzle right back on top of his chest and make it even harder to get a breath, let alone catch it. He’s sure he’s panting a little when you leave your warmth draped all over him, and you don’t do anything other than be there.

His arms are still on the floor, his body rigid under you, but you’re softly giggling into his peck before he frowns down at you again when you catch his eyes. “What?”

“Your heart is beating super fast,” you admit, not proud, not gloating - just stating the fact, and heat overtakes his neck now too. Instead of letting you wind him up any further, he bucks you off and switches positions again, now with your two wrists caught in his hands as you squeak with the ache that probably lodges in your back.

“Can you get off of me?” He sits back on his feet, not letting go of your hands yet, before your eyes flutter and you grab him back. Well, brush your fingers over the skin you can reach, pawing at him just enough to tickle. “What’s with you today?” he bites back, and also snatches his hands back to escape the onslaught of feelings that wash over him. You don’t sit up this time, and from the tilt of your head, you’re considering your answer for a while before you speak out.

“Do you like me, Megumi?” Fuck. His room seems to collapse in on itself. Or, maybe it’s his body— because he gets a little more short of breath, and his thoughts short circuit as his mouth stupidly drops open. He’s choked up for long enough that he has to clear his voice to try an answer, and even then, he gets stuck. You’re studying him so closely it must show. The blaring warmth that fills him up and makes his ears bright red. After another second, your eyes seem to dim slightly, as you push your cheek to your shoulder, opening yourself up to even more attacks. “Love y’, ‘gumi.”

He straightens up with enough tightness in his chest to choke him, makes his eyes sting and his head blare cold, painful warnings— he grabs some of the glasses from the small table beside him, launches it straight into the wall until it shatters into a million pieces upon impact. The loud clang doesn’t do anything to settle his anger, where he fists his hands into his hair and pulls, in hopes the worry will somehow vanish.

“Why do you always have to be such a hero?” he hisses, even though you can’t answer now, “wouldn’t it have been enough to just stay here with me?!” He tilts your face to his and drops his lips to yours, and that familiar softness is enough to have him clenching his eyes shut again against the tears. He kisses you until your mouth opens a bit, then slides his tongue up against yours and grips your shoulders, pulling your limp body towards him more. “I’ll be better to you.” He pleads. You don’t move, and the breaths going over his cheeks are so shallow.

But he can’t stop himself from tangling your tongue with his, licking into your mouth and chasing the warmth until he runs out of breath. You’re so fucking pretty still. He kisses you again, bumping teeth, and grips your hip hard as he lays over you a little more, chest to chest and feeling it brush against him with each soft pant he lets out, each gravelly moan. It doesn’t hurt so much to brush his tongue against yours, to swallow your taste on his tongue until his lips numb — but while it doesn’t ache, it’s also not enough. Before he’s able to think about the morality of his actions, his thumbs are hooking under your shirt and pushing it up, over your soft belly and ribcage all the way up until it’s over your tits, where his lips travel to as soon as the skin’s exposed. You’re so soft still, too.

He’s not sure what he’s doing other than leaving messy, open mouth kisses onto you, kneading your skin between his hands as all the warmth in his body pools into his groin. Your tits are sucked into his mouth, one then the other, as he rubs his face into the doughy skin, then he’s pulling and pinching at your tits like he knows makes you whimper. The sound’s burned into his working memory, and it drives him on to run his face down your soft body to the part where your thighs meet. The skin just above your skirt of the softest, warmest, and he full on moans when his cock twitches hard in his pants and he reaches down to grab himself.

Normally you’d be blinking up at him now, sending him that little look with grabby hands, ready to wrap your puffy lips around him— it’s different when it’s his hand screwed around himself and not even moving yet. he can’t, or he’ll cum in his pants, and he’s not going to waste his cum like that when your warm pussy’s right before him. He’s shaky when he pushes the fabric up, flipping it over your tummy; and groans again when he licks down your panties and mouths at the seat of it. It tastes so much like you his eyes roll back, and his knees give a little, while more precum leaks out of him and into his pants.

He frees his hands momentarily to slide you to the edge of the metallic table, two hands gripping your butt and squeezing, then hooking his finger in your panties to just pull them aside. He doesn’t care about the chaffing he’ll have. Not even a second thought when your little pussy is in front of him, and he pushes his mouth to you for some open mouthed kisses, down to your pussy and back up. Wrapping his mouth around your clit, he sucks hard, and rubs the bud a few times with his tongue. He swears your breathing goes more pitched and heavier when he does, when his fingers trail down your puffier lips to rub the bit of wetness around.

His cock’s painfully hard in his pants, and after a few more times licking you up and down so that your slick covers the entire bottom half of his face, he pushes the zipper down and then takes himself out to watch how red and sore the head of his cock already is, oozing pre and coating both his boxers and his shaft. He spits into his hand to give himself a few tight-wrung pumps, tighter than he likes normally- if he doesn’t, he’ll spill all over your cute, little pussy. He pushes his fingertips inside your now wetter cunt, watching it wink and beg for something to fill, and groans when one finger slides in with ease.

Your soft walls are still soft and hot around him, giving mean licks over your clit again and again in a way that would normally overstimulate you too easily. You don’t whimper or whine now, take his finger nice and sweet inside your squelching, gooey walls, only making a little noise when he slides in a second and he can feel the slight bit of stretching you need. He’s dripping onto the table now, balls tight and heavy - imagines how you moan and look when you’re sucking on them and you smack your lips with each open mouthed kiss or lick. You between his legs is always enough to have his knees giving, and it’s no different now, he has to hold himself up against you before he thinks better of it.

You’re slid back on the table too easily, making room for him when he pushes one of your legs aside— and let out a slight gasp when he hoists himself over your body. He just wants you. So bad. It’s not so embarrassing when you’re not awake to see how fucking crazy he looks, flushed, cock twitching between his legs as he strains to kiss you again, lick over your tongue for more of your taste, and breathes your name. “Baby, fuck- I need to be inside you.” He wants to hide away in your safety forever. A crystalline, fucked up thought springs up in his mind for just a second, but he banishes that with a few blinks.

Instead he lines himself up over your hot, needy pussy and pushes inside just the head at first, grunting tightly at the softness that envelops him. His whole body shudders as he pushes in deeper, feeling that pit in his stomach expand with each inch that he goes deeper, tangles his fingers with yours when he bottoms out and fills you up so well. You’re curled into his touch, and he kisses you, his thoughts blanking as he pulls back, and snaps his hips back inside you. You’re hot and wet and it feels so fucking good, clenching your hand inside his larger one. It’s not fair. He’s losing his mind, and you’re always the end of him.

His cock rubs against your swollen insides with rough, imprecise strokes — he doesn’t mean to, it’s just that trying to focus on anything other than the heat as he slides in and out of your tight pussy is too much. You’re too much; you’re haunting him even now. He kisses down your face to your neck, sucks on your skin and bites down hard enough to make a serious mark, wanting to hear you cry. Normally, you’d cry out his name so pretty, dig your nails into his back until he’s letting you go and grinding back on his cock, but you can’t do that now. His cockhead bumps your spot each time he fucks himself into you further, but it’s not enough.

It’s never been enough. He wants to be closer to you, and that horrible image that was launched into his head creeps back up before his eyes, bloody and horrible. Maybe he always told himself that he hated you because - no matter how much he fought, he would never be able to stomach actually hurting you as much as it hurts him. But now, withering on top of you as his cock thumps with how much blood rushes south, everything else falls away. He wants to claw and bite and carve his way to your insides and make you pay just a little for his sins. His body is coated in a thin sheen of sweat, thighs pumping blood through his body to his lungs, his gut, his cock.

He pulls out of you to kiss down your tits and over your covered ribs, thumbing over the head of his cock and gliding it over your puffy clit, your wet pussy lips and flicking it just in and out of your drooling cunt— before he puts a sloppy few kisses there too, tongue coated in slick. The blood pumps through his head so hard he feels dizzy, pounding behind his eyes as the heat of your cunt overwhelms him entirely. It’s too hard to stay sane -he’s never felt less sane than now- when you’re laying below him like this, ready to leave him all alone. You wormed your way into his heart when he didn’t want it, and now, now that’s all about to end.

His mouth is dry, but he’s drooling as he grips your thigh and kneads the doughy skin of your tummy— looking so soft and warm and perfectly shaped for him. He wants -needs, needs it, to feel you swallow him, ruin him- to cut you open and eat your insides out with the sick force of what he’s feeling right now— he groans your name again, desperately trying and failing to get it out of his head— the more he tries the better it feels to think it. Despite having his fist around the base of his cock, stings of white shoot over your body as he crumples in on himself and paints you with his cum. He’s still hard though, painfully so, and as soon as he’s done cumming he can already feel the building urge to do it again, trailing his shaking fingers down to your clenching pussy and rubbing your clit until your body starts wiggling back just a little too.

Megumi wants to go, bury this urge down and never think of it again. He really does— but it’s like he’s possessed, drooling over your body and flicking his cock in and out of your pussy without sliding back in. He might’ve had it wrong this whole time, but if this is love - God, he loves you, he loves, loves, loves you so much he’s not ever going to have enough. Can’t ever say goodbye, not when his entire soul’s been bound to yours, has been rotted away into nothing like this. There’s only you, and him; and he can’t get close enough to make this fucking feeling go away.

With black spots swimming over his vision, he’s not sure what he’s doing until he’s knelt on the floor and shards of glass cut his knees open through his pants; he doesn’t feel it - just trembles as he gets one of the larger shards and crawls back to you, right between your plush thighs as he kisses your face over and over until he feels like he’ll be sick. “Forgive me when you wake up, baby.” It doesn’t really sound like him anymore, faint and messy as he ruts his cock against the inside of your thigh and stares at your face for a little longer. He paws at your tummy again, maybe it’s the lack of oxygen - he feels like he hasn’t taken a breath in ages - or the fact that all his blood is cleary in his swollen cock, hot and heavy.

He kisses you again, pants against your chest as he watches between your two bodies as one arm keeps him up, and the other drags the shard of glass below your belly button just hard enough to create a little cut. He just- just wants to be a little closer, you’ll let him, you’ll let him- he’s been so fucking mean to you and if he can just do this, he’ll make it up to you. Specks of blood well up that he swipes his thumb through to slide it into his mouth, get used to the taste of copper on his tongue. Sometimes he bites your lip hard enough to split it, and you tear up and whine, tangle your fingers in his hair.

He could cum on the spot when you yank like that, but the taste now isn’t enough. As he pushes the shard of glass into your skin harder, watching one layer make way for another, tougher tissue that still gives when he grids down a little- he waits for the moment where he feels bad, regrets and walks it all back- but the feeling doesn’t come. Your body looks so pretty like this, robbed of your innocence by his hands; and he doesn’t wanna cum yet, fuck. The adrenaline swimming in his head is pounding too hard to feel anything other than love for you, and the pulling, almost unbearable sensation of wanting to slide back into you. The blood pools around the hole as he slides along, hearing the skin squelch and snap, building a sweat along his neck and collar. Maybe you’d lick it up if you were awake.

The blood runs, covers his entire fist that’s wrapped tight around the glass, it creates little rivers that you’ll both be laying in soon. He coughs, before kissing you below your jaw, feeling the weak pulse beneath his lips— and righting himself to look at his work with a better angle, groaning. There’s both more blood and less than he expected, pooling in your belly button, all over your pretty pussy, his thighs and hands- his cock not yet. He drops the glass aside as he thumbs over the wound and sure enough- he’s cut through fat and muscle and sinew without too much struggle, because you’re soft all over.

He pushes the fleshy gash open more, thumbs over the clean cut he made with a strange sort of fascination before the hot, hot blood gets to be too much for his curiosity and he leans in to lick from your clit up, up, up until his tongue reaches the raised, tight skin— what has he done, what’s he doing, this, this isn’t — he can’t stand the heat that’s coming out of you for long, and it smells, but that isn’t what sticks with him right now. He’s never wanted to be closer. The gaping pouch of your belly’s drooling red for him. The head of his cock twitches when he feels the hot of your stomach coating him in blood, and coating you in turn. The cum from before’s all but washed away, but he’s sure he can give you another couple orgasms before he tuckers out.

He’s strung so high all of this feels like a dream, like his head is about to roll off of his neck; he pushes in with a garbled sort of sound that comes from deep, deep inside him. The skin doesn’t wanna give way at first, but he manages to push back hard enough before suddenly he’s inside, and it’s like nothing else. The pressure of a slab of skin taking him where it’s not meant to go— bleeding and whining out like this, it’s euphoric. He’s able to see his cock’s outline glide into you until it’s bulging your stomach, squelching and sucking him back in; feels like you’re taking him deeper than ever, letting him fuck his cock so deep he’ll hit your ribs soon. You’re so fucking beautiful, even like this, getting coated and letting him fuck it.

He doesn’t know what it’s like to feel like you’re dying, but the peace that washes him entirely clean might be close; he grinds his hips into you hard enough to rock your body under him as he laces your hands again. Both, this time, just chasing after an end that seems like it’ll never come.

He feels infinite. Your blood’s so hot it’s almost painful, and the tightness of the hole he carved into you is entirely different from your pussy, pushing back against him like you’re begging him to get out. He imagines you’d beg so pretty- but he’s inside you, finally inside and deeper than anyone’s ever been. He’s able to watch his cock blow up your belly and make it hollow when he pulls back, and God- he should feel worse than he does. He could swallow you whole if you’d let him. The feeling has him shuddering over you as he pants your name, makes your tits brush over his chest- and his balls smack against the smooth stretch of skin until he can’t feel his feet any longer.

Now he’s got you dirtied, he wants to ruin you too, leave you a mangled mess of flesh and swallow every last bit of you until he never forgets the taste. But that would require he’d stop fucking his hot cock into your bloody, little pouch, and that won’t happen. He’s panting, sweat running down his back from the effort, and his groin starts to feel a little raw too. He might’ve been going for hours by now, licking your mouth clean from his drool only to dirty you again. The head of his cock feels fucked raw inside you, and his thighs shake before his shoulders square over you.

Megumi speeds up his pace fucking into your guts -actually- until he clenches every muscle, is overcome again and reaches heaven inside you, spurting creamy white into the pouch he’s created for himself; “Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuck,” his hand has to twist into an uncomfortable position to reach for your clit, but he wildly does it anyway— cramping up, until he’s collapsing on top of you and stilling inside. The stench of blood makes the entire room smell, as he thumbs over the side of your blood-coated thigh with one hand, and feels the shaking all the way up and down his spine. He pulls out so slowly, pumping the last bits of cum out with a throaty moan, before he slides off the table onto awfully shaky legs.

If he was any more lucid, he’d think twice before leaning by your side to kiss your eyes, your nose, your pouty lips as the tears that must’ve been building for a while run down your temple— and suppresses the need to actually eat you- for now, he rubs a softer hand over your exposed tummy, before folding the now blood-drenched fabric of your skirt back down to hide your puffy pussy, lest he be tempted again. He whispers his love into your ears, nuzzles at your hairline until the feeling comes back to his hands and feet and he tucks his spent cock back into his boxers, and goes about cleaning the mess he made of the floor.

It’s only when an uncomfortable scratchy sound comes that he notices the burning heat on his neck, the dried sweat painfully sticky— and straightens up beside you when you start to shake again. Immediately his worry is sky high. Even in the gross air of mixed blood and cum and the scent of sex soaking everything, his mind is just clear enough to hold your head when you thrash around a few times, and your chest rises wildly up and down. Then before his very eyes, the damage he’d done upon you slowly starts to stitch itself together, like weaving threads. Lacing you up until every bit of muscle, fat, and skin restores to it’s pristine glory before he ever touched you, with a little puff of cursed energy.

He bites his lip hard when the shaking stops, and your back lands back onto the metal with a soft clang. The noise is louder now it’s quiet in the room. Megumi waits for a bit longer before he brushes the hair from your face, and doesn't mind it that he’s leaving tracks. The darkness is filled with his tense breathing, and then — every sound at once. Your eyes shoot open with a cry, sobbing out like a baby for a few painful seconds. But then spot him thumbing your tears away devoted like he is -though he won’t admit it to you, and you let out a noise of pure relief.

It’s almost poetic, when you crash back into his arms and this time, he lets your arms wind around his waist.

#kinktober #megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi smut #fushiguro smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #tw.dark content #tw.somno #tw.noncon #tw.wound fucking #tw.blood

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yiminsuu · 7 months

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Please, Stay

Pairing: MK1 Syzoth/Reptile x F!Reader

Warnings: Sexual themes (+18), breeding, two cocks, angst and fluff, self-esteem issues, jealousy, friends to lovers, mentions of violence.

Author’s Note: Did I buy a ps5 just to play MK1? You bet. He needs all the loving in the galaxy and we'll give it to him no matter how much it costs! Please the way his family was taken from him was just so cruel, baby boy didn't deserve it...

Shattering noises reached my eardrums as I stepped into the kitchen of the academy, watching Syzoth sigh in desperation while his emerald eyes stared at the broken cup on the ground. I felt my heart breaking at his lost expression, yet I ceased all desire to touch him and walked away as silently as I could.

Since meeting Liu Kang and the others my seemingly normal life took a toll, transforming me into a 24/7 killing machine with 0 possibility of my enemies ever escaping Kombat. According to the Fire God, I always had this in my blood, now I just have to balance it… I just didn't expect that coming to a different realm and being incarcerated by a maddened sorcerer was the way to do so. That's where we met him, that's where we crossed eyes, that's where I fell enchanted by him.

Perhaps it was the anxiety of meeting someone new, or maybe I wanted to punch someone for the horrible things done to the people of Outworld, but there was no way of knowing I was attracted to what Baraka called a 'Zaterran', at least not at the time. Seeing Syzoth in his real form was surprising because I had never seen his kind, but the reptilian didn't know this, and in the beginning, I was sure he hated me to the core. He kept a certain distance from me unless I engaged against someone, he had my defense just like I had his, I didn't think much about it to be honest, I was sure he wanted to stay on the good side of the rest.

So when I spoke with Ashrah about our teammates in the gardens at tea time, she made it clear that she wanted me to talk more about Syzoth, indicating how protective he was over me when our battle against Quan Chi and Ermac took place, or when Li Mei chased after me when I made a mistake. I mean… I am practically a child compared to them, I found it normal that even Johnny would aid me at all times. I did notice their growing friendship as time passed, I was happy Syzoth could grieve his family in peace, and that he can have a joyful life from now on, yet after so much I don't think he's comfortable with me, don't think he'll ever be.

"Sometimes, people need to reflect on their past to come to peace with their mistakes."

"Thanks Ashrah, not undermining your achievements, but just because you did it doesn't mean others can do it as easily."

"Then why not come with me and Syzoth to Outworld? We will have a chance to speak our minds while we have dinner."

I declined, didn't feel like being the third wheel.

Realizing I was jealous was quite easy, but I swallowed it down, it's normal for me to get my hopes up to then be crushed mentally and emotionally. I was in silent rage, and I almost broke Raiden's skull in a friendly kombat so I decided to retreat to my accommodations with Liu Kang's permission who, weirdly, didn't stop smiling at me as I left. Following my encounter with Syzoth, I sprinted to my room and screamed into the pillow with genuine self-hatred for not asking if he was okay, and with regret in my mind, I drifted off to sleep.

Subsequently, waking up in the middle of the night to knocks on my door scared me, I thought there was some sort of emergency and I hurriedly opened the door to freeze immediately at the sight of the reptilian, he looked stunned at the speed in which I answered that he visibly gulped. "Syzoth, hey… I-Is something wrong?" Don't take me wrong, I did try to have conversations with him plenty of times, but he either avoided or ignored me, so I just gave up. "Do we have an emergency?"

I jumped in place when he changed into his reptile form, speechless at the action, we stared at each other in silence until his human form came back with a deep exhale. Even then, Syzoth refrained from saying a word for a good minute and turned to walk away before stopping and muttering something under his breath, cursing slightly. "Can I-- Can I come in…?" He questioned loud enough. With a furrowed eyebrow and with a growing heartbeat, I let him into my room and closed the door gently, once I glanced at Syzoth, his back was turned to my figure, and his head hanging low.

I cleared my throat, getting his attention, but he wouldn't budge from his position. "Did something happen? Is Johnny bothering you with the whole movie thing?" It's 3 a.m. but I'm sure Cage is still awake doing whatever an actor does in hopes his movie would be a success. "I can speak with him." I finished. Frowning at the lack of answer, I crossed my arms and my anger built up fast in my body. "Look, if you only woke me up to stand silent in the corner of my room you might as well leave, we'll speak in the--"

"Do you hate me?" I shut my mouth and widened my eyes at him.

Hate him? How could I? He's saved me more times than I could count. "Why… Why would--"

"I've seen how you watch me, how everyone watches me." There was so much sadness in his normally soft voice, his beautiful eyes staring into my own with every emotion he could find. "Do I look that monstrous, (Y/N)? Do I look so hideous you can barely withstand me to be in your company? You turn away every time I try to be with you in the same room, is it because of my true form…? Do I scare you? Or is this human skin just as mundane for you?" Syzoth transformed into his Zaterran form again. "Will I receive hate from you no matter what sort of shape I possess?"

Nothing came out of my lips, mostly because of the shock from his unexpected outburst, Syzoth looked away and took a few steps back from me, his whole demeanor changing into one of desolation. The room got darker when the moon hid behind clouds as if to make the reptilian a cruel favor. "Syzoth…" I called but got interrupted.

"Someone like you will never see me as an equal, and I should have known, but you… Looked so innocent in that cell that I couldn't resist securing you from harm. I beg of you, forgive me if I intimidated you as far as not accepting a dinner invitation, I want you to know you are the last person I ever want to hurt in any way. I'll stay away, just… Don't look at me with those eyes, the eyes of someone frightened, not you…"

Without thinking, I placed my hands on his reptile cheeks, his pupils dilating under my touch, he felt cold but I didn't let that bother me, there's nothing about him that could bother me. "I don't hate you, okay? And I'm not scared." I uttered to him, and in a flash, his human shape graced me, staring down at me with a glow in his eyes I'd never seen before. "But, you were--"

"Syzoth, you are the kindest soul I've met, you did everything you could to protect your family, you helped us defeat Shang Tsung and saved our lives countless times. Besides, I couldn't care less about your appearance, you are so handsome, soft-spoken, and courageous." I pursed my lips as I saw something shift in the way he looked at me, maybe I should've said something more worthy of being seen as his friend instead of stating the obvious, I have a crush-- No, I am full in love with him. I felt as if the world was torturing me all this time, and I failed to see I was the one torturing him with my avoidance of solving my own problems. "You mean it…? All of it?" Syzoth's hands rested on mine, his body slightly closer to touch mine.

"I do. I was surprised the first time I saw your true form, I'm not gonna lie, but I've grown accustomed to Outworld's unique beauty… What I did not like, on the other hand, was being called 'freakish'." I smiled brightly when he chuckled, the tension between us quickly evaporated, but I knew something changed. "I am sorry, you are anything but freakish." He paused, and my cheeks grew hotter as my hands were held by calloused ones. I gathered the little braveness I had and spoke. "I actually thought you hated me, you observed and followed after me everywhere, I was sure you wanted to kill me at some point."

"Oh, I didn't mean--" With the light of the moon, I saw his expression turn into a nervous one. "No! (Y/N), have you seen yourself in a mirror? You look so lovely, so breedable…"

Both of us stopped to process what the reptilian said.

Syzoth covered half of his face with his hood while I stood in place, screaming internally. "Fuck… I didn't want it to come out like that, I wanted to take you out first." I was thrilled at the thought of him having me how he desired, so I shut my mind from judgment and gulped down my anxiety, and kissed his cheek. He gazed at me with widened eyes, letting go of his hood and leaning closer to me, pecking my lips experimentally, so delicately as if I was going to break in his arms. I felt hot at the sensation of being wanted, and kind of ashamed for judging his relationship with Ashrah.

The Zaterran halted all movement to gaze at me. "I need your mind right here, baby. Please." I almost whined when he pulled me to him, kissing him as our clothing came off and sitting on his lap while he moved his head down towards my stomach and pressed open-mouthed kisses against my skin. "Your mouth feels good…" When I looked into his eyes, which were already staring back at me, I felt myself relax, his eyes were so soft and held so much love, that I felt like my heart was going to burst at the sight. Syzoth pressed his lips against my breast, squeezing the flesh of my thigh, enjoying how I shivered underneath his fingertips. I gasped when he bit my chest, breath hitching when he snapped away my underwear, inhaling my body as if it was the sweetest flower he found.

I kissed his forehead and embraced him by the neck, receiving a groan from him promptly. My breathing was turning heavy as his hands traveled from my thighs to my buttocks, pressing me against his clothed manhood. "W-Was that dinner supposed to be a setup?"

"Yeah… Truth be told, if you had gone I would have bent you over right then and there." Dammit Ashrah, you should've given me a hint. I shoved away the thought of her and planted a kiss on his neck, a breathless 'more' left his lips, sliding his remaining wear down and I gave out a wail when I felt two hard cocks on my behind. "Syzoth, you--"

"You don't have to take both, it's fine. I know this isn't something humans see every day…" He's going to be the dead of me, and the worst thing is, he knows about this by the expression he's wearing now. A soft mewl echoed in the room when one of his cocks brushed against my hole, he almost salivated at the sight of our bodies prepared to join together. "I promise I'll make you feel good, extremely good." Syzoth smirked as he laid on my bed, his thumb playing with my clit as his tip kept teasing my entrance, choked moans leaving my mouth and my fingers went to grab his short hair.

I let out a desperate whine when he suddenly entered me, my lips shaping an O as his finger abused my clit. "Syzoth…! F-Fuuck!" The sound of my wetness made me feel so self-conscious, but the way he looked so lost in pleasure excited me to no end. He retreated his finger when I arched my back, my walls clenching around his still-entering cock. "So warm… So perfect…" His piercing, green eyes kept eating at the scene, and his lips let out a sound of thrill for being able to be completely inside me, pushing my body against his as I shook above him, the moan that left me was unholy.

"Yes, yes, shit…" I heard him utter nonstop, his tail appearing to grasp around my thigh.

"Y-You’re stunning…" I told him, and the reptilian groaned deeply at my words, sitting once more and kissing me hungrily as he began moving. Syzoth bit my shoulder and spread my legs further apart so he could thrust deeper, he smiled weakly against my trembling skin, hugging me tightly as he felt his other cock rubbing against my asscheeks. I pushed his torso into mine, tears brimming in my eyes and both moaning between kisses. "Just like that, pretty… Take me all in…" I managed to nod, pulling Syzoth into another kiss as my legs wrapped around his torso. I was becoming desperate, the feeling of his cock stretching me out felt heavenly, I could feel every inch of him as he moved inside of me.

Syzoth grunted, tightening his hold on my body so it would become impossible for me to escape. "Fuck…!" He cursed loudly, forehead pressing against my neck. "(Y/N), please (Y/N)! Let me cum inside…!" His tip pressed against my cervix, and I attempted to shift my position a bit but his hold was unbreakable. He looked so needy with that fucked expression of his, so gorgeous with sweat running down his muscle, and purely swallowed by pleasure and pain alike. My forehead rested on his and he gasped, finally moving his hips faster, he was trying to reach the deepest depths of my being.

I could feel the love radiating off him in every action, the way he kissed me, how he embraced me, the affection in his eyes… I could feel it all, tears cascaded down my cheeks, kissing his lips. "Don't let go of me…" I whispered, holding onto him as my hips moved in sync with his. Syzoth whispered my name like a mantra, followed by many words of adoration amidst our lovemaking. "I will never let go."

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat x reader #mk #mk1 #mk x reader #mk1 x reader #reptile #reptile x reader #syzoth #syzoth x reader #mk reptile #mortal kombat reptile #mortal kombat imagines

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cry4mina · 1 month

Text

Take Me Back to Eden - Ascensionism (Part 4)

(Nayeon x Fem!reader)

Take Me Back to Eden - Choke Hold - Part 1

Take Me Back To Eden - Granite - Part 2

Take Me Back To Eden - Aqua Regia - Part 3

Word Count: 8.5k Angst/Angst/Smut Summary: Reader finds out the truth behind what Jihyo and Nayeon has been up to, she takes the steps to become more independent and heal her grief, only to fall back into old habits. TW: Betrayal, suggestive themes, lying, break ups, cheating, manipulative behavior, anxiety, top!reader x Bottom!nayeon, choking, degradation, truthfully its rough sex but anyways, let me know if I missed anything! A/N: After a reasonable amount of requests I decided to continue the series. I also decided to write smut for the first time. Thank you to @saiiidahyunee @neoplatinum and @miinatozakiii for the help/advice for this part! <3 (srsly, this wouldn't have happened without them)

“Did she believe you or do we actually need to stop seeing each other?”

Pulse radiating in every cell of your body, waiting to see if there’s another text from Jihyo. Absolutely baffled as the lie shatters your consciousness, returning you to the jagged spiral you were still reeling from.

It was true. She did this to you. 3 years of deception and it was all happening right under your nose.

Knees buckling underneath you as you think back to the conversation you had in the kitchen the night prior.

The tears she shed, the way she spoke…the way she studied your face… She was acting through the whole thing and you believed her.

“Nothing has happened since, and nothing like this would ever happen again. I wanted to tell you but the person I was then and the person I am now are two completely different people. Even that version of myself would never dream of hurting you in such a way.”

Stomach churning at the words previously said, fighting back the hatred growing in you.

‘Please understand that I would do anything to remove this from my past…our past.”

Nauseously fighting the tears threatening to spill from your eyes, remembering how your skin felt against hers as you slept next to her the night prior and you cringe knowing it was all fake and you had fallen for it.

Nayeon’s phone vibrates in your hand again, revealing another text from the other responsible party.

“We can lay low for a little while and let it all simmer down, if that’s easier. But I don’t want to stop being with you.”

As you stare at the screen, truth reflects back onto your face, flashing through your memories with her. Decorating the house on the holidays, her meeting your parents, anniversaries, going out to dinner; Even the small touches to show affection that intertwined themselves into everyday life hardened your exterior as you built your walls back up brick by brick wondering how long they’ll hold up with the digital reinforcement you’ve stumbled upon.

The need for the truth pokes at your chest while opening the text thread between her and Jihyo.

———————————Yesterday 11:34 pm——————————

Jihyo: Y/n didn’t seem to believe me when we spoke, I hope she listens to you or we might have a problem. 11:34pm

Nayeon: We might have a problem then 11:35pm

Nayeon: I don’t know if her and I will make it thru this 11:35pm

Jihyo: Do what u can. We will just have to cover our asses if the company finds out we are sleeping together. 11:37pm

Nayeon: It seems like she can’t really make a decision. I put her to bed a little while ago because she was exhausted. 11:38pm

Nayeon: She did bring me dinner last night… 11:38pm

Nayeon: She actually just came to the living room and def only in underwear…I’ll update u in the morning. 11:40pm

Jihyo: Just because she’s the piece that’s keeping the public and our company from finding out doesn’t mean I want to hear stuff like that, Nayeon. 11:42pm

———————————Today 8:12 am——————————

Jihyo: Did she believe you or do we actually need to stop seeing each other? 8:12am

Jihyo: We can lay low for a little while and let it all simmer down, if that’s easier. But I don’t want to stop being with you. 8:14am

Forgetting to blink as you’re reading the thread, in disbelief that you almost gave them the forgiveness they asked for. Caught between the smoke and mirrors, an illusion painted for the public eye to cover the secret that only they knew.

Screenshot clicks lightly as you send yourself the evidence and delete the pictures from the text thread as well as Nayeon’s phone. You wanted to be able to look back on this and remind yourself that she was responsible, and that you'd never give her another chance.

Sliding her phone into your pocket, you walk into the bedroom.

Nayeon is distracted in the bathroom preparing for your morning shower together. Hearing the door of the shower sliding open and the sound of the head sputtering to start. The clashing of the water hitting the tile mimics the storm you felt brewing up inside of you.

As your rage builds you quickly grab a backpack out of the closet, unintentionally knocking a tote bag down as you pull the straps. Trinkets of all kinds scatter across the floor, you flinch at the sound and look down at the mess before immediately unzipping the bag.

“Is everything okay, baby?” Nayeon yells from the bathroom, it's muffled by the foam of her toothpaste as you hear her spit into the sink.

Body tensing at the pet name, knowing the illusion of the past 3 years was uncomfortable and devastating.

“Yes. Just dropped something.” You shout back trying to hide the towering rage that is rocking against the winds of change your digital confirmation created.

“Okay, my love, I’ll be waiting for you in the shower.” She sings back trying to play cute with you.

You roll your eyes while shoving the bag full of everything you’d need for the next few days as quickly as possible. Clothes, charger, wallet, important documents, and your laptop.

Putting on the first pair of pants you see and not even bothering to change out of the oversized sweater you threw on to cover up while you had your morning coffee.

Quietly running to the dresser to grab some socks, your foot kicks some of the mess left on the floor. Sighing at the annoyance of it being in your way but it slows down enough to see what the contents were. Jewelry you’d never seen, love notes opened with a wax seal, and countless pictures of Jihyo and Nayeon together.

Frozen in fury as you take in what you’re unintentionally uncovering, a singular tear drenched in anguish falls - the tap on the photo echoing in your ears. Reaching your limit and the overflow of emotions are about to spill out of you in a slurry of misery and hatred.

Grabbing the specific Polaroid of them kissing, tucking it into your pocket with her phone and leaving everything else where it landed. Preparing for the confrontation, knowing she’ll probably try to cover it again. No more running from it and no more hiding from it, you had her cornered with the proof that she was a liar.

Hopping onto the counter in the bathroom, you waited for Nayeon to realize you’re there. The shower door is slightly open, she left it for your entrance. Opening her eyes momentarily to see you staring back at her, much like most mornings.

This morning was different though, after the fight you got into that spread out over a week and the information you got this morning; there was a thickness in the air that wasn’t just steam. Almost visible in how it intimately caressed your heart into a conflicted mess of emotions, waging wars inside your chest.

“Aren't you gonna join me? I’ve got a blank canvas for you if you’d like to make more art out of me.” She coyly says, winking at you.

Your cringe is covered by the steam coated glass, repulsed by the thought of this stranger touching you the way she used to. The trust was no longer there. Being past anger, past sadness, and clinging to the numbness so you could get through this conversation.

Trying to keep your brain on track when Nayeon steps out of the shower and walks towards you, seductively. A thin layer of sweat is starting to appear on your skin as she gets closer to you, you’re trying to talk yourself out of the thoughts of what would happen if you just showered with her and forgot what you found.

You can’t do that to yourself, you know that. You would never knowingly accept less than you deserve but your heart was fighting you with every step she took towards you.

She puts her wet hands on your thighs, allowing the material to cling to your skin, “why are you wearing these? Just so I can take them off?” Her pupils are wide as she fixates on your face watching you half glare back at her.

Swallowing as you try to keep yourself from shaking as the numbness wears off and turns to despair and then shifting erratically to pure anger and then back to despair again. The pattern is familiar, you’ve lived it before a few times. Trying your best to conceal the rapidly changing mood and keep a straight face.

It seems to go unnoticed as she parts your jean clad legs and slides her waist between them wrapping her arms around your neck. Shivering at the warmth of her skin against yours as her fingers lace through the hair on the back of your head, trying to get you to cave into her wants.

Your body is definitely reacting to her being this close to you the way it always did. The ache in your core screaming at the familiarity but your mind is repulsed. How many times had she done this with Jihyo?

Not pulling away, allowing her to set herself up, the same way she let you. Leaning into your ear, lips brushing against its shell as she whispers “I’d love to take this off, if you’ll let me.”

“Do you really think you deserve it after what you’ve done?” sternly leaves your mouth.

Clench her thighs as you speak, she loves when you talk to her that way. Not realizing that your voice is heavy with a different type of malice, not the usual light hearted mask you wear for her when she wants some roughness.

Hands come off your neck and slide under the sweater. She’s relieved you don’t have a bra on as she scratches harshly down your back, like she always did during sexually driven moments much like this one, in an attempt to rile you up more.

It works for a moment, you groan and chase after her lips as she teasingly pulls away from you. Challenging your power and being a brat, refusing what you were asking for to intentionally make things more heated. Two can play that game.

“Close your eyes and hold your hands out.” Softly spoken while only an inch away from her face. Her half lidded eyes looking up at you for a moment. The sparkle for you is still encapsulated in her big brown eyes.

Immediately listening, placing full trust in you. Removing her from between your legs, you guide her back and against the glass shower door. It rattles on impact as she leans against it, inciting a gasp from her.

Her hands are up and out, waiting for whatever you had in store for her. She’s smiling up at you, eyes closed, intrigued about what you’d place in her digits.

Reaching into your pocket and pulling out her phone and the picture. Looking at them one more time before placing them directly into her hands, almost as an offering, like it’s your ticket out of this mess you unknowingly found yourself in.

“You can open them now.” Tone leaving little to mystery as it sneers out of you.

Her brows furrow as she realizes something isn’t right. Nayeon opens her eyes and looks down at what you’ve placed in her hands. Confusion waves across her face until she sees the image of her and Jihyo kissing, staring back at her. Hearing the gasp leave her lips, a deep gust of air is still not enough for Nayeon as she almost starts to panic.

You’re out of the room in seconds, her quickly following behind you, she grabs onto the sweater leaving a wet handprint that matches the ones on your thighs.

“Please, let me explain!” she begs frantically and tugs on the sweater harder to try and get your attention while you’re gathering more necessities for your daily routines.

“Drop the act, Nayeon. I don’t want to hear anymore from you.” Your tone is growing more callous as time goes on. It roughens up the few soft spots she had even if it was entirely her fault you were going through this life changing event.

Her face shifts from worried to annoyed as you sprint around the room, not bothering to organize anything being placed into the backpack.

“And where are you going to go, huh?” she asks, tilting her head and dropping her arms to her side heavily, allowing her frustration to show for a split second before she remembers she’s still completely naked and dripping wet from the shower on the rug in your bedroom.

Taking a step forward to get in her face, you startle her, not expecting you, soft gentle y/n, to approach her in such a way. Leaning back when you stepped forward but not breaking eye contact. You watch her leg start to bounce as she gets more anxious realizing you were angry in a way she had never seen, fire behind your eyes noticeable as you adjust your stance to show her you weren’t backing down and you were no longer scared to lose her.

Movement feeling foreign to her as she’s unable to keep calm like the Nayeon you knew of. Backed into a corner and baring her teeth as you confront her about her wrong doings, is an attempt to control the situation and she was about to try an old tactic that had worked previous to this.

Playing with the belt loops on your jeans, she brings her voice back to the sweet one you used to know, “Are you just going to keep running away from me? Or can we talk this out? I thought we were okay. I thought we could get past this together” Retorting in a semi-cooled tone. Eyes watering again and the block of ice in your chest is trying to thaw in you as she leans in to put her satin lips on yours for a small second of contact before you avoid the affection, knowing you’d crumble at the act. Not allowing yourself to fall into her grasp again, knowing she was willing to hurt you in an incomprehensible way, and feel no guilt.

“That was before I saw those texts and before I found the bag of secret Jihyo shit in the closet, Nayeon!”

Looking down at the phone you handed her to read the message. The realization of what’s happening washes over her face, it couldn’t be played off as a misunderstanding anymore. She had been caught red handed and had to deal with the consequences.

Nayeon leaned in harder to her act of fake innocence, insinuating that you were in fact the big bad for violating her trust like she wasn’t the one who burnt yours to crisps and used the ashes as eyeshadow.

“Why did you go through my phone?” She crosses her arms, pushing her breasts together. She’s trying to distract you with multiple tactics but it wasn’t working, her act faltering when scrutinized. .

Extremely angry, your brain couldn’t see her as anything other than an enemy. “Is that really what you’re worried about right now? Our entire relationship was a false front for you and Jihyo and all you can do is try to flip it on me?! …Who made you like this?” harshly asking just trying to understand what she had to gain from hurting you in such a way.

“You don’t trust me?” Nayeon says sweetly, touching your torso again. Pulling away roughly, unable to believe it’s even a question she thought would be a good to say out loud, when you both knew what the answer was.

“You have been cheating on me for the entirety of our relationship and you have the audacity to ask if I trust you? Fuck you.I gave you the opportunity to be honest with me and you threw it right back in my fucking face, Nayeon!” laying into her, letting out every drop of anger she caused you through your teeth.

“3 years of what?! You completely ruined everything, our entire relationship was fake so you could fuck Jihyo without suspension! So absolutely not, I don’t trust you in any sense of the word.” voice starting to crack as you tear up, “and to think I was actually going to propose to you” letting the sadness of the future lost memories drain out of you onto the person who caused it all.

Speechless and not believing that the docile person who was head over heels for her could have such venom to spit. A new light is shining down on you as you display your livid behavior. Oddly, even more attracted to you than she already was, she was in a trance as she realized what you said.

“You were going to…propose?” Quietly said back to you. Her eyes are saddened as she starts to understand the weight of her choices and all the things that will never happen again between the two of you. The guilt cuts deep, creating a sharp sting in her chest as a heart string popped.

Rolling your eyes and open the drawer in the kitchen that normally is reserved for “junk” to pull out a little black box, slamming it on the counter. “I really wanted to…” allowing yourself to be vulnerable for a moment as she reaches out to open the jewelry box and sees the perfect ring.

The pear shaped diamond in the middle was huge, with little diamonds laid into a rose gold band. This is how she described her dream wedding ring to you on your 3rd date. You wrote it down in the notes of your phone for the moment you would need it, thinking she was the one.

Eyes matching the diamonds, sparking with light as they fill with tears. She never thought about how much you paid attention or how well you knew her. Too wrapped up in playing her role with both you and Jihyo to even think that you were set on her being the one you wanted to spend your life with.

“I need you to tell me how it started. I need to know why.” speaking cold heartedly, keeping the distance between the two of you.

“...It did start with a drunken night. That was true. I never tho-” She started as she lowered her eyes.

“Look at me when you’re talking.” deliberately call her out, rattling her a little bit, her face turns red, eye wide as she goes to speak again.

“I never thought that it would go this far with her. I really was genuinely upset when Jihyo told me what happened the first time. I didn’t remember anything at all and then she convinced me not to say anything and then we hung out a few days later and…it happened again but sober this time and it just never stopped. There was no emotion behind it for me, I swear. I love you, not her.”

A freight train crashes through you as you reel at the information hitting your ears.

“You don’t get to say that. You don’t get to claim you love me when you’ve been living in a black light paradise with someone else this entire time.” hissing dispassionately to assert your words.

“But two things can be true at once, like you always say…” throwing back at you with a smirk knowing how much your own rhetoric being used on you makes you angry.

Aggressively grabbing your backpack again and heading towards the door again, once intimidating, now a way to safety as you jerk it open, feening for escape from the heavy atmosphere. Your steps are quick and precise as you make your exit.

“I made a mistake, y/n. She’s not you. She will never be you.” Almost shouted at you as one foot stepped over the threshold.

“You were the mistake and I hope your guilt drowns you.”

–

An anchor pulls your heart to the bottom of the ocean. You told Nayeon to drown but it was you who couldn’t swim. Pulling harshly at your arteries as you sludge towards your car, feeling as if you’re moving in slow motion just trying to escape the shark infested waters.

Remembering this same feeling from before, but this one was much more certain. With the evidence in front of you, the admission from both parties, and the way Nayeon spoke to you- there was no more safety in who she portrayed herself to be. The illusion has smashed into shards of false love, leaving you to pick up the pieces.

You drive to Momo’s house, not bothering to call before showing up, you don’t think you could speak anymore, your jaw is tense the entire way there to hold everything in.

Walking up to the door and hitting the door bell, the dogs bark to alert their owners. The locks click open and the door cracks open to reveal a surprised Momo.

“Y/n, what are you do-“ cutting her off as you collapse into her arms. You kept it together long enough to get to your best friend, but now the dam was broken and unable to contain the pure pain that was born from the cruelness Nayeon showed you.

Momo drags you into the house and sits you on the same couch you slept on days before, sitting next to you and trying to comfort you as you shake and sob, wrapping your arms around yourself trying to create a sense of safety for yourself that couldn’t be torn from you.

“Y/N, what happened?” Momo is so concerned with your inability to calm down, it’s starting to make her upset.

Dahyun walks into the room, hearing the commotion. The loudness of your sobs ringing in her ears with her heart sinking into her stomach as she sits on the other side of you, joining Momo’s effort to comfort you.

Shakily breathing as you try to regulate yourself yet again, this time it feels harder than the last because at least last time there was hope. You are only experiencing extreme sadness and betrayal, with a lot of anger mixed in it but there was no hope present.

Unaware of how long you’ve been crying as Dahyun gets up “I’ll go make up the guest bedroom.” Rubbing your back as she walks past you.

“Thank you,” you squeak out through your teeth, struggling to calm down.

Momo has a look on her face that could cut diamonds. Anger radiating off her cheeks as she grabs her phone, taps it a few times and brings it to her ear quickly, she stands and taps her foot waiting for the other person to answer.

Nayeon is heard on the other side, “is she with you?”

Momo’s face is repulsed by this considering the state of you in front of her but she answers the question anyway,

“Yes, what happened? She’s obviously not okay. Tell me what happened.” Momo’s arms are crossed, standing up she shifts her weight from one leg to the other.

“I don’t know, she just got upset and left”

“Nayeon, I have known you for years.You’re lying. Y/N wouldn’t just show up sobbing uncontrollably for no reason, so tell me what happened or I'm hanging up.” talking with her hands, raising them in a frustrated manner as the lies keep coming.

“Well if she didn’t want to hurt herself she should have gone through my phone.” annoyance present in Nayeon’s tone.

Momo looks over at you, devastated for the second time on her couch pulling your phone out in silence and showing her the text thread screenshots you had taken earlier.

“It’s not as big of a deal as it’s being made out to be.”

“Are you serious right now?” Momo harshly questions as Nayeon continues.

“Are you going to question Jihyo like you questioned me? Or are we just gonna pretend like she’s not part of this too?”

The sharpness in her tone was something you had witnessed before but the taste of her name coming out of Nayeon’s mouth was unbearable.

Momo gasps at the new knowledge that has now been thrown at her. Completely statuesque, as she tries to wrap her mind around what Nayeon just said.

Momo’s eyes look up on your screen to reveal the name at the top of the text thread: Jihyo

The rush of emotions she was experiencing was overwhelming to her senses, momo’s voice choked with tears as she spoke to Nayeon.

“Wait…what did you just say? J is Jihyo?!” Momo says in complete disbelief, shocked at not only what she’s reading on the screen but by what she was hearing from one of the parties involved.

“Yes. So please call and interrogate her. Can I speak with my girlfriend now?”

“No, you can’t. I am not friends with people who do this type of thing, Nayeon. How could you do this to y/n?” she shouts through the phone, hunched over with a hand on her knee, trying to understand all the pieces of this complicated puzzle.

Momo, trying to keep the anger she felt under wraps, started pacing in the room taking laps around the couch as she spoke.

“Nayeon…are you kidding me? How long has this been going on?” Confused was an understatement, Momo was completely overstimulated with the information she was being given.

Never noticing the connection between how close Jihyo and Nayeon were, always sharing hotel rooms on tour, finishing each other’s sentences, the looks across the room, Nayeon staying at Jihyo’s house frequently…it was all starting to add up and Momo is seeing red over the pain of her best friend being hurt beyond belief, and by someone who was supposed to be her family. She was just as angry as you were.

“Momo, I don’t want to do this right now, Can I please speak to Y/n? I’m trying to save my relationship and not be put under a microscope by you.”

“I can’t believe you would do this. You spoke of Y/n like she moved mountains for you and this is what you’ve been doing behind her back? I’m disgusted with you and your actions…and I’m pretty sure she’s your ex-girlfriend now but you knew that already, didn’t you?”

Momo hung up quickly, not caring about what Nayeon had to say back to her. More worried about you and your emotional state than anything Nayeon had to say.

“Did she tell you why or was it her avoiding the question?” inquiring as she took a seat next to you, giving an apologetic look and a bear hug to try to make you feel better.

“She told me enough for me to want to leave my home, technically she didn’t even tell me, I found a secret bag of Jihyo stuff in our closet with a bunch of pictures of them together, and one shot of them kissing, wax sealed love letters and jewelry.” Voice cracking and shaking as you bite back more emotion.

Momo gasps as the story unfolds before her, she can’t believe what she’s hearing. It is so polar opposite of what she expected of her members. She always thought they were kind and loving. She imagines what y/n might be feeling in all of this.

“I am so sorry. Please let me know how I can help you get through this.” reaching for you to pull you into a warm embrace.

“Well, I’m definitely going to need to find a new apartment so if you want to help me with that I’d be grateful.” half chuckling through some tears, trying to add a little light into the situation. You hated the idea of someone else being upset because of this situation.

“Consider it done” Dahyun walked back in with swollen eyes, sniffling. She probably overheard the argument Momo just had and was reflecting the same amount of empathy as Momo was.

“We can start tomorrow!”

—

About 3 weeks went by and you were slowly showing signs of your old self. You were going out with friends again, hanging out with Momo a lot, and starting to become present again, no longer constantly seeing the rewind of Nayeon’s innocence faltering behind your eyes. Still receiving texts from Nayeon at least 2 times a day. They served as a reminder of what once was.

Momo and Dahyun were patient with you, letting you speak with them about the effects this trauma was having on your mental health. It’s always hard to watch your loved ones go through something this difficult but it was obvious that they were proud of how you were handling it, even if it was hard. They were always there to remind you that you could do hard things.

Finding a 1 bedroom 1 bathroom that was close to Momo and Dahyun’s, signing the lease immediately. It was a slight upgrade to the studio that you and Nayeon occupied previously. The kitchen was bigger, the natural light was brighter, and the bathroom had a large bathtub that you could fully lay down in, which you were looking forward to.

Spending a week finding the perfect furniture for it, designing the interior however you wanted and making it your own space without someone else’s opinion in the back of your mind was fun. You enjoyed doing this for yourself, fixating on something that had to do with you alone. You felt the ashes from previous ruin sprouting stems as you tried to move on.

You had really been focusing on yourself, trying to resurrect yourself after total devastation. Pulling out the roots, and planting good ones so later on you could reap the benefits. Changing the perspective of your brain was hard, but well worth it.

Being in a better place mentally and emotionally as your sense of stability was so close to being present again, you thought it was time that you continue with the last step of separating from Nayeon.

There was still some stuff you wanted to get back at your old apartment but you didn’t want to run the risk of Nayeon being there. You had no desire to face her, especially while you were still mending. You decided to reach out to her to let her know you’d be coming by to get the rest of your things.

“Hey, I’m going to stop by today to get my stuff. I’d really like it if you weren’t there.“ You hesitate to hit send, not wanting to come off in a rude way. Quickly realizing how absurd that was and hit send.

“So now you reply? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for weeks… are you doing okay?” almost immediately after the message was delivered, like she has been staring at the thread waiting for you to say something.

“That’s not your concern anymore. What is your schedule like this week? I won’t be long. I’d just like my things, thank you.” you replied with haste, just wanting this to be over.

“I’ve got something scheduled at 5 today. You can come then if you really don’t want to see me.”

You can hear the pout over the text message without any hint of it present in the text. This instinctually sparks sadness in you. Biting the inside of your lip and type out a few replies before deciding to just drop it. A wave of the past just flashed in front of you, causing you to fall into loneliness, something you’d fought to keep at bay.

Checking the clock and it’s already 3pm, you finish up what you’re doing in the living room and take a cold shower before setting out to the apartment one last time.

–

Stepping into the once familiar place, you are hit with the smell of vanilla and sandalwood. “That’s odd” thinking to yourself, wondering if she’s left a candle burning as you walk in, sliding your shoes off by the door. She always forgot to blow them out after lighting them or would fall asleep on the couch with one lit.

You were right, but with an added twist, the candle was burning in the center of the coffee table flickering against the shadows in the room around you. The flame was blocked out by the shadow of someone on the couch in the dimly lit space.

“I thought you had schedules.” sighing, irritate at being met with another moment of dishonesty.

“I just needed to talk to you…” she whispers, she had been crying. Hearing it in her voice and seeing it on her face as she turned her back to the candle, taking in your features like it was the first time she’d ever seen you. A tinge of hope runs through her, your face must be showing sympathy.

“I needed you to be faithful and that was too much for you so I don’t really want to do any conversing with you.” asserting that you’re completely vexed by her as you walk into the bedroom to gather the rest of the stuff you were taking with you.

Following you closely, a habit you used to think was cute as she watches you pick up small knick knacks from your childhood, clothes, and some other important tokens left behind. Sorting through every drawer to make sure you got everything, wanting this to be the last time you’re in the once shared life.

Almosting touching you with how close her proximity was, she wondered if you’d give her some of your time so she could plead for you to stay when you finally spoke up.

“Can you stop hovering so I can do what I need to and leave?”

“Can you just talk to me for a second?” Nayeon replied equally annoyed and choked up as she watched you tuck all she had left of you away.

Turning around to face her, “Fine! What do you want?”

You’ve never shown her such apathy, the emptiness that rings in your voice hollows her chest out as she takes a few steps forward, you are surprised by the sudden closeness when she leans in and kisses you roughly.

You gasp which leaves an opening for her to slide her tongue into your mouth, the neediness pouring out of her drenches you with adrenaline and you slowly succumb to her as she bites your lower lip and tugs gently. The world stops.

Every ounce of love you ever felt for this person came slithering back into your mind for a split second, followed by anger as you remind yourself of the betrayal.

You can’t believe she’s just throwing herself at you. Body reacting exactly how you would expect when your recent ex partner kisses you like this, the familiarity of her hands on your body sends jolts of comfort and excitement through you and you aren't strong enough to fight the primal urge.

Trailing her hand up your back under your sweater while keeping you distracted with her mouth and sinking her nails into your shoulders, dragging them slowly down your back, causing you to lean into the kiss even more, moaning into her mouth as she smiles.

Falling into the trap she was setting and you knew it.

Hands slowly find their place on her waist, she kisses your jaw whispering sweet nothings into your skin.

“Baby, please stay” she lays another kiss farther down your jaw

“I know you missed this” laying another kiss

“You are always so hungry for me…show me”

She ghosts her lips up and returns to yours as she kisses you passionately, revealing pure lust as she grips onto you. Bringing your hands up to cup her face, allowing yourself to get lost in the breathy haze, heart pounding as you feel your body temperature rise, effects of the love that once was and the lust that now is.

Spiraling in the dizzying moment,you and Nayeon sink into each other, closeness returning as you’re swept away by the intense feelings you’re both harboring. Hands are exploring as you fumble around, not allowing space between you as you both collapse onto the bed, hungirly taking each other in as you gain control, Nayeon is lost in the essence of you and it was your turn to hold the power.

In addition to getting on top of her, you place your knee between her legs- just enough out of reach so that she couldn’t get a good position on it. You were going to give her this moment to remember and you were going to make her earn it.

The heat emanates off her as you rip off your sweater tossing it aside. She’s looking up at you like you put the moon in the sky as you reach your arm around and unhook your bra, letting the straps slide down your arms slowly, her eyes wide with anticipation as you remove it, throwing it on top of the sweater.

Nayeon’s hands reach up, eyes darkened as she tries to touch you when you slam her hands back down into the softness of the sheets, pinning her to the mattress forcefully above her head, glaring into her with white hot anger.

“No,” as you hold her in place, your body pressed against hers, faces close enough to feel each other's quickened breath. Nayeon sees the flash of spite in your eyes as you press your mouth on hers, it makes her ache while she is refracting desperation, subtly grinding on your thigh as she lets your tongue dance with hers.

Pulling back from the kiss to admire the sight before you; Nayeon is anchored to the bed by your hands, whimpering and grinding on your leg practically begging for you to fuck her.

Faces return close enough for your lips to lightly graze, teasing her as you remind her where you stand, “Tell me… does Jihyo excite you like this or is this only for me?” with a sultry nuance. She squirms underneath you as you taunt her, her eyes flickering down to your thigh as she tries to grind into you to get some friction to satiate the ache you’re creating within her, only for you to pull your knee back just enough so she can’t reach it.

She whines “y/n…please, it’s only yo-” getting up before getting the full answer and dragging her legs to the edge of the bed letting them bend over the edge, pulling her shirt off frantically, exposing her tits.

The knot in her stomach tightens as she watches you become completely carnal, continuing toying with her. Lightly tracing her chest with your finger before you kissed her again, this time more aggressively as if you are claiming what had been yours. She groaned into it, always loving when you got like this, you’re ghosting your finger along the waistband of her sweats as you pull back from the kiss again and attacking her neck leaving a trail of dark marks down to her chest.

“She’ll have to admire my artwork for the next week and I hope she enjoys it” leaving bite marks and bruises as you descend down slowly.

You take one of her nipples into your mouth and swirl your tongue around it, you can hear her breathing hitch as you roughly pinch the other one. Without letting go of her bud between your fingers you detach your mouth and slide your other hand up to Nayeon’s throat, lightly squeeze and ask “Does Jihyo fuck you like the slut you are? Or does she leave you for me to ruin?”

Nayeon let out a wail as the words cascaded off your tongue, completely bewildered at what is happening right now as she feels the intoxication of your agitated demeanor wash over her while she grows impatient. Pushing back and trying to take the power from you when you mimic your prior movements and slam her down on the bed, letting her know that wasn’t going to happen.

“Don't. Move.” Stoically said while standing up, sliding her pants and underwear off to reveal a string of arousal clinging to the fabric and the soaked mess that she was. She was already clenching around nothing.

“Pathetic.” You smirk.

“Does she ever make you this wet?” as you part her lips with one hand, gathering her arousal at her entrance with your finger, and slowly bring it up to your mouth, sucking it clean. She rolls her hips up at the sensation, body screaming for more.

“I told you not to move.”

Nayeon whines loudly, “Please, Y/n…touch me” begging for some continuous form of contact and being sure not to move while your stand above her watching as tears well up in her eyes.

“...so needy… does she make you beg for it like this?” the words daunting as they snake out.

“You’re so good at lying, I’m sure she thinks you belong to her.”

“What was it that you said earlier?” following up slyly while lowering yourself between her legs, knees on the floor and arms are wrapped around her thighs, with hands planted on her hips keeping them in place.

“You’re always so hungry for me…” breathing out as you traces patterns on her lower stomach and bring your face closer to her pussy,

“…show me” she sighs out as you dive down into her folds, moaning intensely as you tangle yourself between her legs. She feels you devouring her sloppily, not leaving a single place unexplored as she tries to buck her hips into your mouth.

Nayeon is seeing stars as past experiences flood back into memory, senses heightened as you consume her more possessively than usual. She loves this version of you.

Hands holding onto her so tightly as you start sucking on her clit, she squirms under your grip, squealing at the erratic pattern traced with the tip of your tongue before giving her the rhythm she craved so desperately.

Nayeon’s breathing gets heavier as you stick to the pace you know she likes, building her up to where you wanted her. The moaning gets louder as you continue lapping at her, hands go up to your hair, locking you in place as you bring her as close to the edge as possible.

Hearing her high pitched whines and feeling her pussy clench around nothing, completely stopping everything that you are doing.

“Wha?!-..” she let out a groan that could’ve shattered windows as you stood before her, watching her react to the orgasm being ruined.

“Why would you do that?!” she groaned out, squeezing her legs together again. You lightly smack her thigh, telling her without words not to. The slap radiates through the room and leaves a small red hand print displayed.

Enjoying the blissful anguish on her face as you licked the evidence right off your mouth while removing your pants and underwear. Getting on the bed, straddling her, wetness visible as it drips off of you, she looked up at you with wanting eyes, hips still rutting, and knowing exactly where this was going.

“Did you really think I’d give you what you wanted so easily?” you start scooting up so that your knees are on either side of her head, a mere inch from her face.

“You’ll have to earn it.” Leaning forward and head between your legs, tongue out already anticipating the taste of you.

A gasp echoes in your chest as she licks the inside of your thighs, making sure not to waste a drop of you before taking one big slow lick up your slit, doing that several times, causing you to thrust into her more before attaching her lips to your clit and finding the rhythm she knew you wanted.

Drowning in her all over again as you feel the knot in your stomach stir, you need more from her but she wasn’t going to give you that right away.

“Naye- ..fuck, just like that -on” you whine her name, slowly start to fuck her face.

“More.” Demanding breathlessly, feeling your release building throughout your body, muscles tightening as she shakes her head no, trying not to remove her mouth from you.

“Nay-“ a guttural moan stops you mid sentence, knowing what she wanted from you.

“Baby…please, I need you” pleasure all consuming, you’re aching for her inside of you.

Before you can ask again, a long finger slides into your core and starts pumping forward to hit your g-spot a few times before adding another finger.

Another loud moan, as you steadily rock your hips against her mouth, building on the list you were already feeling. Close to breaking, you feel one of her hands slide up to your chest and start tugging on your nipple, that’s what sends you over the edge.

Throwing your head back as your breath quickens, grinding against her face, with a death grip on her hair. Shaking on top of her as your orgasm rips through you, she keeps going, letting you ride it out.

“Good girl,” you say breathly as you scoot back to straddle her hips again, body feeling like static as you come down.

Catching your breath while looking at her cum covered face, you know you aren’t finished with her just yet. Leaning up to you, wrapping her arms around you and kissing you. Tasting yourself on her as you pull her arms off of you.

“I missed the way you taste.” she cooed as you stood up again, half wobbling as you were still recovering.

“Didn’t I say not to move?” sternly rolls off your tongue, her eyes widen as you push her back down roughly and spit directly onto her pussy. Not that you needed the extra lube, you spread it around her entrance before slamming 2 fingers into her.

“Fuck, Y/n…” she moans as you pump your fingers quickly into her, feeling how wet she is from the orgasm you stole. She thrusts harshly, forcing your digits deeper into her.

“You don’t cum until I say you can.” growled at her from between her legs - peering up to see her face, eyes clamped shut as she leaked out onto the sheets - impatiently waiting for you to stimulate her in some way.

You can’t help but torture her a little.

“Does Jihyo make you wet like this? Or is she a shit replacement fuck when I’m not around”

She doesn’t even hear what you’re saying while she’s writhing underneath you, completely fucked out and trying to focus on not cumming while you’re toying with her. Your mouth finds its way to her clit causing a frantic moan to rip through her chest, hands pulling at the sheets as she holds everything back.

“Ca- can I cum please?” She screeches between moans, nodding your head back to her while keeping the same circular motions going with your tongue on her clit, picking up the pace of the fingers inside her as she screams out - back arching, body tense, and clenching down on your fingers as she cums, gushing all over your hand.

Trying to take a breath, she squeals because you never stop fucking her at a relentless pace; she’s immediately back to moaning your name.

“Baby, What are yo-” words cut off as she loudly moans, giving her a second to try and finish the sentence.

“Use your words” as you pick up the pace even more, holding her down onto the mattress with your left hand on her hip, pounding your fingers into her.

Unable to speak coherently, almost screaming as she tries to formulate sentences.

“You wanted to cum so bad, so give me another one.” Answering the question she couldn’t ask while snapping into her g-spot, bending down to put your lips on hers again, giving her a taste of herself as she moans into your mouth, unable to hold back from the feeling of being over-stimulated.

She feels the tension inside her forming again, threatening to burst at any moment when you lean over to ghost your lips over her ear.

“I bet Jihyo doesn’t make you cum like this.” Violent combustion dispels from her body as she tenses underneath you, screaming into your mouth and sinking her claws into your back while riding out her orgasm.

Both of you lay on the bed, attempting to catch your breath. She rolls over to you, and tries to curl up in your arms but you get up before she can get too comfortable.

“Baby, where are you going? Sleepily stated while staying on the bed.

Silence as you put your underwear back on.

“Hello?”

Silence as you slide your pants on

“…are you leaving?” She says in a sad tone, leaning up on her elbows, watching you put your shirt on and gather all the stuff you came to get.

“Yup.”

She is in complete disbelief as you walk out of the bedroom door, hearing you put your shoes on in the kitchen and then hearing the door open.

“What the fuck are you doing here?…what is that on your neck?” heard from the kitchen. Nayeon’s eyes widen as she realizes the time and the plans she made…with Jihyo.

“I don’t really think she will be much use to you tonight but you’re more than welcome to try.” You say condescendingly to Jihyo as she stares at you about to walk out.

“Oh, by the way” , turning your head to her as you open the door.

“I hope you like the way I taste. Enjoy.” smiling at her as you walk right out of the apartment. She stares at the front door in disbelief as she’s figuring out her next move, now in a similar position to where you were.

“Nayeon!” screamed loud enough for you to hear while you’re walking toward the elevator. Not even being able to help the smirk across your face knowing she’s about to get an earful. Laughing to yourself as you call the elevator.

Starting the ride home, you think about exactly what just happened. Unable to believe you allowed yourself to fuck Nayeon and act like that towards Jihyo. Thinking about it not with regret, but with a blend of malice and sadness. They were both important to you, previously but that’s reality anymore.

Looking into the rearview mirror at the complex behind you, almost a far-well glance for you as your phone vibrates in your pocket.

Pulling it out to see Jihyo’s name across the top and hit the end button, sending her straight to voicemail. She calls again, same response. The third time your phone vibrates, you answer it

“Can you stop calling me? I obviously don't want to talk to you.” sounding heavily annoyed.

“…Y/n?” A familiar softness rings on the other line as you look at the phone number that isn’t saved.

“Oh…uhm, sorry…I thought this was Jihyo. I don’t have this number saved in my phone…”

“That’s alright” a small chuckle follows, “It’s Mina.”

"Mina?"

---

Take me Back to Eden - The Summoning - Part 5

#twice nayeon #twice smut #twice imagines #twice x reader #nayeon x fem!reader #nayeon x reader #im nayeon #wlw #kpop x reader #twice fic #twice angst

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everythingelseisextra · 9 months

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Part Eleven: You're Like Me

Description: After a miscommunication, Tommy apologizes in the only way he knows how. Warnings: Language, self-hatred, Thomas being inept at communication Word Count: 2439 Tag List: @theshelbyslimited @ttaechi @weaponizedvirtue @majesticcmey @optimisticsandwichgladiator @zablife @princesssterek @mm0thie @callsignvenus @ay0nha @mgdixon @babayaga67 @shelbydelrey @look-at-the-soul @globetrotter28

You are brave. You insist on this in the cab, and you insist on this when you walk up the driveway, and you insist on this when you knock on the door. You have courage. You think this as you settle in the dining room, at the edge of the long wooden table, the high ceiling and portraits and pale yellow lamps and grandfather clock making you small, insignificant. You speak with strength. You tell yourself this as Tommy walks in, checks on you, and all you can do is nod when he asks if you’re ready. You are worthy of him. This one is the hardest for you to master, the hardest for you to hold onto. You remind yourself this as you hear him greet her, hear their footsteps in the hallway.

When she appears in the doorway, all drawn back shoulders, piercing eyes and impeccable fashion, you lose all sense of yourself. You stand and bow your head, as if a queen has appeared in Arrow House, which in a way, she has. Like Tommy’s, her eyes flick over you like a cat watching a bird, that intensity and deep rooted sense of predatory analysis. She walks right up to you, and you resist the urge to step back, to remove yourself from her aura.

“Polly Gray.” A cigarette dangles from her lips and her outstretched hand is steady, stable, while the one you reach out to shake with shakes slightly. When you don’t respond with your name, her thin smile widens slightly and she tilts her head. “And you are?”

You open your mouth to speak, to give her something, anything, and nothing comes out. Frustrated and embarrassed, you look to Tommy for help, but he gives the slight shake of his head, barely moving it. You’re on your own.

Polly glances back at him, amusement in her sharp brown eyes. “Does she talk?”

“When she wants to.” His answer is immediate. His gaze flickers between the two of you, so neutral that you can’t read what he thinks, whether there’s shame in those deep blue eyes. Whether he regrets choosing you, out of all the women in Birmingham and England and Warwickshire.

“Now would certainly be the time.” She looks back at you, expectant. “Have you not got anything to say for yourself?”

You bite your lip, gaze still on the ground beneath you, desperately wanting to speak, to be strong, to be the person you want to become. You know you can, know you’re capable, but your voice gets stuck and your heart freezes and your lungs stop working and suddenly you’re frozen in a panic you feel in your body but not in your mind.

“I think speaking is a base-level necessity, Thomas.” She turns and starts the long walk out of the room, slowing as she passes him. “You could do better.”

“You don’t even know me.” You step forward, dragging your gaze off the ground to stare at the back of her head. She’s paused, listening as your cracked and clenched voice reaches her. “You have no idea what my life has looked like, and you decide that I’m not good enough just because I can’t always get the words out?”

She chuckles and turns to face you, that reserved smile back on her lips. “That’s more like it.”

Your brow furrows. “Forgive me if I’m not as thrilled as you are.”

“Tommy told me you’d take some convincing. Worth the work, he said.” She moves back towards you, slow, languid, a panther pacing.

“Did he, now?” You shoot a look at him, and find his eyes away from you. “You planned this, did you?”

He takes a drag from his cigarette, gaze still pointedly elsewhere. “Had to. Only way to get you talking.”

“I see.” Your voice grows tight. “Was I all you expected, then, Mrs. Gray? Do I meet your expectations?”

“It’s Polly.” Her smile stays, almost threatening in its own right, proof that no matter what you say, you will not shake the ground she stands on. “You don’t need to be like that. Tommy’s been needing a good woman on his arm. Glad to see he’s found one, after how the last one worked out.”

You laugh humorlessly. It’s supposed to be a compliment, you know this, but Polly also must know that any intelligent woman wants to be more than an ornament on a man’s arm, a trophy for him to parade. She underestimates you, views you as another pretty face, and you don’t know how to prove her otherwise. She’s not to be taken at face value, either. The Shelby’s, the whole lot of them, hide beneath a facade. Arthur’s is brute strength, John’s is humor, Tommy’s is intensity, and Polly’s is charm. Ada seems to be the only exception.

“I think I do need to be like that, actually.” You cross your arms, fingers playing at the shirt you wear. “I’m stepping from one dangerous world to another. I’d rather keep my guard up, thanks.”

“Danger comes from wanting more than what you have.” She glances at Tommy, quick and sweeping. “I doubt you’ll do that.”

You’re at a loss for words. How do you explain to her that you never had the privilege of wanting more? How do you explain that you’re stuck as a child learning to crawl, and you can’t lift your head to see that others can walk? Her words point towards Tommy but squash you at the same time, making you simple and lesser.

“This is wanting more.” You look down. “This is more than I’ve ever had.”

Your vulnerability earns you silence. You think that, in their world, no one wants to admit that they’ve been hurt, that they’ve been on the ground looking up at the sky, wishing they could fly like the birds. No one wants to admit that they’re human. And you just did exactly that. After a moment, you look up at them, afraid of what you’ll see but even more afraid of what you might miss.

Polly’s eyes lock onto Thomas’. Quiet communication flows between them, something so quick that you can’t follow. Within a couple seconds, Tommy gives her a subtle nod, and she sighs. Her eyes shift back to you, searching your face for something. You swallow hard. Keep your head up, your shoulders back. Meet her eyes and let her peer into you.

“I hope you know what you’re getting into,” she says to you, her tone softer than before, more welcoming.

“I do.” You think it might be a lie. You think you’re stepping into a storm that you’ve never weathered before, thinking that you can save yourself while battling the wind.

“And you.” She turns to face Tom again. “I hope you tell her what you’re doing.”

“I do.” His eyes flick to yours, and you immediately look away. You don’t feel warm towards him at the moment, don’t feel like allowing him the privilege of silent connection.

“Alright.” She smiles faintly at you, then turns to start her walk out of the room. “Then my job here is done. See you at the meeting, Tom.”

You watch her go, your heart in your throat. You close your eyes and fall into a brief fantasy where everything is simple and everything is good. In this world you aren’t battered or bruised, aren’t scarred or scared, and you’re brave enough to speak without being manipulated to do so. In this world you know that his ‘I do’ was not a lie like yours. In this dream you hold a knife and your hand does not shake when you lift it.

Tommy clears his throat and you open your eyes and the world of your creation disappears, and you’re left with the coldness of the dining room, the emptiness of the fifty seats, all but one unoccupied. You sit back down and place your head in your hands, your elbows on your knees.

“Thomas,” you say, a little hesitant, a little scared. Now that Polly is gone, now that your own mask has dropped, there’s hollowness to your chest and a strange pulling sensation on your eyes, like you haven’t slept in days. “Am I just… work to you?”

He stays where he is, leaning against the wall to your right, his suit jacket in one hand and his cigarette in the other. As usual, he seems to be searching for something in your expression, eyes observing the subtle changes in your face like one would study a newly-discovered animal. His jaw works slightly and he looks away. “Sometimes you are. Sometimes you aren’t.”

You look down at your hands in your lap, your fingers pulling at each other until they hurt, then relaxing. “Oh.”

“Everything’s fucking work.” He gestures vaguely, voice too tense to be calm but too casual to be conflict.

“I’m not supposed to be work,” you say quietly. “I’m not supposed to be part of that.”

He pauses, dropping his arm with the cigarette to his side and furrowing his brow slightly. He opens his mouth to speak, but you stand and speak before he can.

“I need to get to the horses. I better go.” You start for the door, half hoping he’ll follow you, try to convince you to stay, but he doesn’t. He stays where he is, watching you go in silence, his brow still furrowed in that strange, almost confused expression.

You work in the orange hour of the evening, sweating and thirsty and hungry and ignoring all of it. Work, work, work, all of it a reminder that you yourself take up too much energy, that you’re a burden on those around you. You squint in the falling light and convince yourself that the extra liquid in your eyes comes from the dryness of the coming cold.

You thought that, maybe, he’d tolerate you. That his lying and stealing and cheating and all the crime that creep through his bones would balance you out. That all the pent-up anger and vulnerability and broken promises and the gentleness of your touch would make up for the fact that it was you he was looking at, you he was pursuing. You didn’t want to be saved, you wanted to feel worthy of being saved.

You’re a chore. You’re work.

You retire to your house long after the sun has set, wiping the sweat from your brow and skipping the bath to crawl into bed. You don’t close your eyes. Staring out at the stars in the sky, wondering whether you’ll ever be small enough to fit into someone’s life. You’re a broken thing, and yet, you stare out at the sky like you did when you were a child, wanting to touch the stars even if they burned you.

A few hours later, the clattering of machinery and the steady pound of horse hooves outside your house disturbs your stupor. You sit up in bed, trying to see through the haze of night. Squinting, the shape of a horse-drawn carriage comes vaguely into view. You catapult out of bed, pulling clothes on haphazardly, and your bare feet patter down on the cold wooden floor as you make your way to the kitchen. You unlock a drawer, open it, and pull out a gun, ready to defend yourself, unwilling to be a victim in your own home.

You rush out into the night, and freezing air hits your face. You’re not dressed for the cold, wearing a simple short-sleeved shirt and pants. You hold the gun up, aiming carefully at the carriage from the doorstep, waiting for someone to draw a bead on.

“Put the gun down.” Tommy’s voice calls from the carriage. You do as he says, stepping back into your house to place it back in its drawer. When you come back out, your eyes fall on a gleaming white horse, elegant and seemingly glowing in the night.

“What the fuck?” You step down onto the driveway, slowly approaching Tommy, who holds the horse’s lead rope loosely, allowing him to hold his head up high, staring out into the darkness.

“You didn’t get a horse from the track.” His quiet, irritatingly calm voice answers your question smoothly. “Figured you could use someone helping you.”

“Tommy.” Conflicting thoughts bounce through your skull. You don’t want to see him, not after what he said, but he’s brought you a horse all the way from the racetrack, something that usually costs you a few months worth of savings. You open your mouth, then close it and shake your head, not knowing what to say.

“His track name is ‘Watch Me Forever.’” He reaches out a hand to stroke the stallion’s neck. “Needs a barn name.”

“This is the gray you liked. The one with the broken leg.”

“Paid to have it fixed. A few months of recovery and he’ll be ready.”

“Tommy.” You resist the urge to punch his chest. “You can’t just do that!”

“Why not?”

“Now I’m— I’m in debt to you.” You shake your head. “You can’t do this.”

The stallion’s neck arches and he reaches down his soft pink nose to sniff at you, ears forward, eyes soft. Tommy is quiet for a moment, and all that’s heard between you is the warm breath of the horse.

When he speaks, it’s not the usual, well thought out, precisely planned phrasing. It’s awkward and rambling and, you have to admit, endearing. “Gentling a horse is work. It’s not easy. Teaches you more about yourself than it does about the damn horse. Makes you a better person; more patient, kinder. It’s— It’s work, but if I could choose between that and anything else, I’d choose the horse every fucking time. Does this make any sense?”

You stare at him, and a weight lifts off of you. “Yes. I think it does.”

His eyes search your face, soft and beseeching. “You understand me?”

“Thank you for explaining what you meant, Tom. I forgive you. I—” You hold back the cliches bubbling in your throat, trying to push you to say something too soon, too recklessly. “I understand you.”

He nods, looking as relieved as you feel. His eyes turn back to the stallion, his posture straightening, his expression moving back to something harsher, more businessman-like. “What will you call him, then?”

“I think… I think Iris is good.” You stroke his soft nose, looking at his eyes, one blue, one brown

“That’s a woman’s name.”

“It’s a fucking flower, Tom. Flowers don’t have gender.”

He shrugs. “Iris it is, then. Iris it is.”

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #peaky blinders x reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinder imagine #tommy shelby imagine #peaker blinders fandom #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fanfic #peaky fucking blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #polly gray #polly shelby

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y-rhywbeth2 · 5 months

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I know we sickos all love the tragic memory of Durge killing their parents as a child, but honestly - as a lover of interpreting Durge as a tragic eldricht horror cuckoo/changeling creature - my favourite memory is baby Durge playing tag with the other children in a "time before Bhaal".

They're being gentle with their friends, but the narration explicitly describes them as hunting and compares them to a predator. If Durge pities their child self the narration just goes: "Mayhaps that child was already a murderer." "Oh, sorry, did you think this was a happy memory?" asks the game before it points and laughs at your naivete.

You pair that with the little cuckoo killing their foster parents and it's very much like somebody took in a baby predator. Sure, it hasn't grown into its claws and aggression but then we reach the starting point of puberty and suddenly the once cuddly baby is a danger to everyone around it.

Oh, except that apparently there's a chance that Durge was already killing things as a baby!

We know they were aware of Sceleritas following them around when they were young, occasionally talking to them as he does in the dead family memory - even if he hadn't presented himself yet. Even if he doesn't always speak, did Durge grow up seeing him out of the corner of their eye?

The fun thing about Durge is that we get to make our own character out of the scraps we're given, so all of it is up to us to decide for our own characters/playthroughs.

I interpret Durge as being like the Bhaalspawn we meet in Throne of Bhaal, Gavid, and the 3.5e tieflings - they've always known they were different. Always had dark urges and whispers in their mind, coming from the essence in their blood.

Kids have accidents around them, pets go missing. Maybe they have black outs, maybe they're aware but can't stop (small children aren't exactly masters of impulse control). We know from a later memory that Durge feels self-hatred regarding their urges, so presumably they learnt enough to know this is wrong and feel guilt. Do they still feel pain and nausea if they resist? I'm going to assume for my own take that since they got the Urge back then, they did.

I wonder if their family ever took them to wizards and clerics, trying to find out if their child was cursed?

Then that family dies. Violently. Graphically. Another tragic accident taking place around the twitchy weird kid who sees monsters and hears voices.

If you play paladin then the Oathbreaker Knight tells you that you've broken your oath multiple times, so I assume that these disasters didn't stop happening.

And judging from the fact that they showed uncharacteristic compassion to a homeless person at the peak of their "I'm such an evil bastard villains like Elder Brains and the God of Tyranny are impressed" era, I think that Durge ended up homeless themselves at some point between losing their parents and joining the temple (I'm also pretty sure that's the period of their life the cannibalism memory happened in).

And then they "came of age" (I recall the age of majority being 15 in the Realms at some point, but can't find that anywhere so don't take my word for it) and Sceleritas introduces himself, and it's time for a family history lesson that explains everything and Orin gets a sibling she absolutely never wanted, ever - put that thing back in the ditch it came from, so help me.

#this is “still not shutting up about Durge” hours #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #durge #the dark urge #long post

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afterglowkatie · 6 days

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vulnerable | c.f.

caitlin foord x reader | 1.9k | you didn't realise how much caitlin meant to you until a missed opportunity to be vulnerable pushes her away for good

ˏˋ°•*⁀pure angst with no happy ending for reader :) also reader has like negative self thoughts and definitely not a stable mental health and not great childhood (mentions parents not being good parents etc). arsenal/matildas!reader :)

‘You can’t keep shutting me out,’ Caitlin threw her hands up, frustrated to be having this conversation with you yet again, ‘We’re meant to be partners, we’re supposed to be able to communicate about things like this,’ her voice was shaky and started to fade away while she spoke to you. All Caitlin wanted was for you to listen to her, to listen and to see some change in your actions. Though every time she felt like her words just fell on deaf ears.

‘Cait, I’m not shutting you out,’ You sighed. You sounded more like you were trying to convince yourself of that instead of your girlfriend. For the first time since you both arrived back at your apartment you looked up at Caitlin. You couldn’t help but feel a wave of guilt knowing you were the cause of her bloodshot eyes, holding back tears that threatened to fall at any moment.

‘Bullshit,’ You looked away from her. The worst part of it all was that Caitlin could read you like you were an open book. That’s what years of friendship does. All throughout youth camps you had been each other's rock, always leaning on each other becoming almost inseparable when you were younger until the lines of friendship blurred into something more. So it’s not a surprise when she’s able to call you out on this.

It’s not entirely your fault for the way you are, at least that’s what you like to tell yourself instead of being responsible for the consequences of your actions. Your childhood was fine until it wasn’t. Until your parents' marriage broke down when you were little and all the love they held for each other turned into anger and hatred. Anger and hatred that eventually seeped into the way they treated you. They stopped showing their love towards you, not even able to recall the last time they uttered the words ‘I love you’ to you or hugged you or any ounce of affection.

At a young age you started to feel like a monster that wasn’t able to be loved. You just wanted to be good enough to be loved, but you convinced yourself that you weren’t. You weren’t good enough but maybe you could try to be. So you masked the pain throughout your teenage years and into early adulthood and gave your teammates and friends the love that you longed to receive.

Though you never really did let anyone in enough, afraid they would be able to undo years and years of masking and see the real you and then deciding to get rid of you. But that’s exactly what Cailtin had done. You didn’t plan on falling in love with anyone, especially not your best friend. You hadn’t told her much about your parents or childhood, nothing specific at least. No one, not even Caitlin knew how your parents treated you or these dark thoughts about yourself that plagued your mind.

You confided in Beth when you realised you and Caitlin had fallen for each other, afraid of what to do. Though she convinced you it was okay to let someone in enough to love you like you deserved to be loved. Trying to allow that for yourself, everything had seemed fine in the beginning of your relationship with Caitlin. But you couldn’t help the voice in the back of your head reminding you of your childhood. Reminding you that your own parents couldn’t love you so how did you expect that someone like Caitlin could possibly love you.

You knew it wasn’t an excuse but you also didn’t know how to get rid of that voice, you didn’t know how to ask for help. So you left it to grow louder causing you to continuously shut Caitlin out, despite what you actually wanted. In the start Caitlin thought you were opening up to her, that she was learning more about you things that she wouldn’t have known by being just your friend. Though she was quick to learn that you had mastered the art of seeming like you were being vulnerable without actually telling her anything too personal.

This wasn’t the first time she had confronted you about this. Each time you promised her that you would try harder, assuring her that your relationship was important enough that you could work through whatever it was that had you shutting Caitlin out and pushing her away. You had been trying, you wish how much you could actually tell Caitlin that you were trying, wanting her to be able to see through you and notice your silent struggle and plea for help. You just couldn’t find the voice to do that.

‘I can’t do this anymore,’ Caitlin broke the silence. Her voice was barely above that of a whisper but it was still loud enough to be heard between the both of you. Caitlin thought you had been making progress with her but she had instead lying to herself and trying to see something that you just weren’t doing. The love she held for you had made her start to see things in you that weren’t there. By being in love with you Caitlin was hurting herself. It pained you to see the person you love the most being affected by your actions. Even as you were about to lose Caitlin you still couldn’t break free from your mind, instead you held back your own tears, face emotionless while you tried to believe that this would be for the best.

Caitlin stared at you, tears freely falling down her face, she shook her head. She couldn’t believe she had let herself be put in this situation. With you of all people, the one person she trusted the most. Caitlin had always been the one to love the other more, so when it came to you she really thought everything was going to be different, but when it wasn’t it hurt her so much more. You not loving her back in the way that Caitlin needed you to was slowly pulling her apart. The anger was slowly rising inside herself, more angry at herself than you, ‘You’re pathetic, a coward. You can’t even look at me, did you even love me?’

Caitlin couldn’t help but voice every thought that was racing through her mind. It was the only way she could keep herself grounded instead of spiralling from the disbelief that you weren’t even willing to fight for her, for your relationship.

‘Cait-’

‘No,’ Caitlin cut you off, turning her head away from you, ‘I don’t want to hear the answer. We’re over. I can’t believe I’m saying that,’ The anger subsided and her voice fading back into an almost whisper with a slight rasp from crying, ‘I put all my trust, all of my heart into this relationship and you’re just going to let it go. This isn’t just a year of a relationship but years of friendship you’re letting go of. Do you even realise that? Do you even care because you don’t seem to,’ When you turned your head away from Caitlin and back to the ground did the realisation flood her face. Never trying to speak or deny what she was saying, Caitlin took it as though you were admitting to everything she was saying.

It wasn’t until Caitlin walked out of your apartment that you let yourself break. Falling to the ground, knees to your chest whispering out everything you wanted to say to her. Everything you wished you could have told her. Everything you never allowed anyone but yourself to hear.

It wasn’t a surprise that Caitlin avoided you where she could. It wasn’t always possible with training and the games so to make things easier on her, you had negotiated so that you could take some time away from arsenal. With the acl squad having returned to the pitch no one could deny that you weren’t needed, allowing you to take this time away from the club.

You stayed in your apartment, wallowing in your own self pity. Some of your teammates had tried to reach out and see what was going on, having noticed you weren’t showing up to training or being put on the match day roster. Since the club was vague they tried to talk to you first. Though you dismissed their concerns saying you were fine and leaving it at that. Cailtin had told the team of the breakup when talks and rumours regarding you started floating around the team. She left out most of the details so now you were left with getting messages asking how you were holding up and if you were okay.

The messages only fueled your mind, fueled the self pity you had decided to wallow in. Only being able to see all the times you broke Caitlin’s heart and realising how miserable you had made the one person you loved the most. Trying to not be anything like your parents you had only found yourself acting just like they had.

This lasted a while, even when you went back to training you kept your eyes down and barely interacted with anyone. Though one day during the off-season it was like your mind had cleared and you realised just how much you missed Caitlin. All you had been thinking about for the last month was how much you missed different aspects about her. You missed the way she would talk to you for hours on any little thing that came into her mind. You missed the way she would always try to make you laugh and smile doing silly tricks with the ball. You missed the way her eyes softened as she smiled.

You knew the team was gathering at this bar tonight, not far from your apartment. You hadn’t gone out with them in a little while and you did miss spending time with everyone, even if you had one objective for tonight it would still be fun to see them all. What Caitlin had said about you was right, but now you wanted to prove to her that you could give her what she needed without being afraid.

Greeting the team when you arrived, you were too focused on finding the one familiar face you wanted to see, that you missed the sad smile Beth had greeted you with. Subtly trying to find Caitlin’s face amongst the team, you had turned your head away from the group when you saw them together. Caitlin and Katie, sitting a little bit away from the rest and a bit too close to just be friendly. The more you pushed Caitlin away you didn’t realise you had pushed her into the arms of someone else.

Beth pushed a drink into your hand and grabbed you to sit with them, trying to focus on the conversation that was floating around you. But you were only focused on them. Engaging in conversations where you could so it wasn’t obvious. You watched them from afar, Caitlin’s head thrown back, her laugh drowning out any other sound in that bar. Your heart ached, watching what could’ve been you and Caitlin if you had allowed yourself to be vulnerable that day instead of letting her walk out of your apartment.

So you drank more than you should’ve that night, Beth and Viv helping you to their place wanting to keep an eye on you. Beating yourself up with how easy everything you should’ve done seemed now that you knew there wasn’t ever going to be a second chance with Caitlin.

It was bittersweet. Every time you saw Caitlin and Katie together from that moment in the bar, thinking how it could be you in place of Katie. Being the one to make her smile and laugh the way she did. But it wasn’t and that was something you had to live with. Though you were glad. Glad that Caitlin had found someone who could give her everything you couldn’t.

#caitlin foord #caitlin foord x reader #caitlin foord x you #awfc #arsenal #arsenal women #arsenal wfc #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso fanfics #woso soccer #woso x reader #woso community #auswnt #matildas

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vilixxr · 8 days

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(non)commital

kyle x gn!reader

tags: fluff, bits of smut, marriage, that’s it. kyle is also endearingly annoying?

notes: marriage? no. with him? maybe.

wc: 962

You didn’t do the whole 'marriage' thing.

Well, you liked the idea of it. On the outside, looking in, it painted a nice picture: Eternal love, spoken out loud, in which death couldn't keep you apart. In theory.

It looked nice, pretty and pure, but you had sworn against it. You've seen how it ends, anyway. At some point, 'Eternal love' would sound more like chains you would tie to your wrists. Till death do you part, until you'd grow desperate to find the key midway through.

But, fuck, it was hard to keep promises between you and your heart. Especially when he was there.

This bastard. The one who had managed to worm through your own wall that you had set, now sitting in your stuffy kitchen. Your boyfriend, all calm and quiet, yet still holding that air of confidence that drove you wild. His lips were propped up in a dumb little smirk, almost a grin, as he caught you staring.

Kyle tilts his head, barely hides his amusement. "Somethin’ wrong?"

Absolutely.

It didn’t make sense to you. You've known Kyle for years. Years, and he’s always been the same man to you. A man who moves like he dreams. Constant, unstoppable, a man who soars and would never settle down, even if it killed him. Marriage was the furthest thing you'd find him doing. Probably.

Of course, though, you had to feel something anyway. All your heart, solely spent on him, the man that pissed you off. He just taunts you in ways that fit in the crevices of your heart, and he didn’t even know it. He makes your head spin, him and his perfection, drowns your mind in blooming photos of every single feature that made him the cunt that he is.

It had gotten so bad that you couldn't stop painting a picture of life beyond calling him your boyfriend. Wrath knows no bounds, and it's in the way you'd punch him at the altar for enlisting and leaving you. It's in the way you'd hiss in his ears all of your gripes that falter with the moan that leaves your lips mid sentence. It's in the way that you'd dedicate your energy to arguing over every little thing, even while the both of you went window shopping for a potential home.

You glance away. "No."

He smirks, like he knows. He's so getting punched at your wedding.

He slowly blinks, nonchalant. The slight sheen in his eyes are irreducible. "Has to be. You keep lookin' at me like I did somethin'."

The only thing that leaves your lips is a sigh that you hope doesn't tell him anything. You know it does anyway.

His expression barely changes, but you (unfortunately) can tell that there's something different. He looks at you, smirk stretched into a smile that shows top teeth, and his eyes shine in a way that makes you melt. It's such a look of love, where he tells you that you were the only one he really existed in his world. He may drop to his knees and bend to your will, just to see you smile. All that "hatred" you harbor, which he knows doesn't really exist, is something that he loves to shatter every time he tenderly takes you in his arms. Feel his heart pressed against yours.

And, you hate to admit it, but this is what made you soften. Your body slumps a little in your chair, but you kept your eyes on him. Those beautifully made eyes that glow in the sun, and seem to shine especially when it's you who's staring back at him.

Fuck. You'd punch him at the altar, you decided. Punch him, lightly, in the shoulder, because you couldn't dare to try and harm the man that's survived bullet wounds and bodies at his feet. You'd kiss him, because he deserves tenderness he was never given until now. You'd kiss him, again, just because. Again and again, and you'd beam at the sight of your husband.

The gripes would be nothing but insincere complaints. "I hate you," you'd breathe, but you wouldn't mean it. Your breath would hitch as he grips your thighs and kisses you in tandem with the pace set, while you follow with, "God, I love you."

And, while you may argue with him over the smallest things while choosing, you could still envision the home you'd live in with him, too. Small, cozy, some place that fits only you and him. Pillows placed so. Scattered remnants of hobbies and hoarded items left askew that encapsulate everything the both of you could ever be. Decorations, messes, love in every corner.

All that, and not just that. You'd find comfort, among the things that would make up your predetermined home. You could laugh, cry, ache, yell, rise and fall, all in the middle of the kitchen you imagined in your dreams, especially with him, wrapped around you and carrying you through it all. It was then that you'd find that something, as he cupped his hands around your face, and you did the same, cuddling among the walls of the only place the both of you could settle.

Something you've both yearned for, for a long, long time.

A home. One to reside in. One within each other.

So, marriage was something you swore off of, but it seems like the perfect time to ask him something. A murmur, so hesitant and unlike you.

It pairs well with the way your eyes dart around, before falling on him once more. You breathe, and the question leaves your lips:

“Would you marry me?”

And it was perfect, the way the corners of his eyes crinkle in an unspoken yes.

this fic beat my ass. kyle i’m sorry

stars + dots divider by cafekitsune

#cod #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #cod mwii #kyle gaz x reader #gn reader #gaz #cod gaz #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod fluff #gaz ily btw #fluff #suggestive #. . . fics

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dev-mars · 12 days

Text

Garroth’s Betrayal

Garroth was in a depressive episode but even then I can’t see him betraying Aphmau and Laurance (the two people he trusts most in this world.) Like clearly Garroth can be a jealous person but he also bottles his emotions till he absolutely can’t anymore (usually till outside forces make him tell the truth.) I feel like his jealousy would have more likely led him to close himself off again and his extreme self hatred would grow rather than him just deciding to betray them. Especially because Phoenix Drop itself is one of the most important things to Garroth. But, if Zane or Lillian did something to cause Garroth to spiral and back him in corner it would make way more sense for him to rely on the only person that can understand everything he’s facing, his little brother.

Lillian says she’s a herb specialist it would have been interesting if she had given Garroth a potion or item that worsened his mental state. Something that made him more paranoid and anxious. Like Garroth has an overwhelming feeling of doom. Zane’s plan could’ve had begun as soon as they got back from the Malachi arc. Possibly, Zane found in an item that causes Garroth intense nightmares or Lillian is able to control dreams sort of similar to Malachi’s magicks . So Garroth stops getting sleep because of his nightmares. The dreams could just be a million different scenarios but they all lead to Phoenix Drop’s destruction. So he doesn’t know what’s going to happen and the cause changes in every dream. One of the worst dreams involves Laurance giving into his shadow knight form. He kills the entire village including Aphmau and her sons. Once Laurance is himself again he begs Garroth for forgiveness and death. He pleads with Garroth to make him pay for what he’s done.

All these dreams cause Garroth to begin to isolate himself. Then from his lack of sleep he begins to impair his judgement and this is when Zane really begins his manipulation. Zane reaches out to Garroth, Garte is becoming dangerous to everyone (some kind of lie that makes it seem like Zane has no where to go) he somehow creates a lie that opens up communication again. Garroth can’t differentiate between his scared kid brother and the high priest Zane, after all he still is a protector through and through.

Garroth is barely keeping it together and he’s wearing his helmet again. Everyone is noticing this change but Garroth says he’s fine and he’s still managing to keep up his duties as head guard. Garroth feels like he’s going crazy but he can’t falter everyone is relying on him. Garroth is also talking to the enemy (Zane) and he can’t tell anyone because they wouldn’t understand. The final nail in the coffin is when he sees the illusion of Laurance and Aphmau.

They kiss in the clearing and break apart to have a quiet conversation seemingly to themselves. Garroth intently listens despite his heart aching. Aphmau confesses she’s been having terrible nightmares and she falls apart in Laurance’s arms. She sees Phoenix Drop burning to the ground and Garroth realizes she’s having the same nightmares as him. Then she finally says she can’t trust anyone but Laurance and she suspects Garroth is betraying them. He’s been pulling away from them and Aph can’t even recognize him anymore and Laurance agrees with her. Garroth sneaks away after this and decides that he’ll make sure everything is okay. He’ll fix everything at Phoenix Drop and leave for O’kasis so he won’t cause them anymore pain. So, he tells Zane of his dreams, the amulet, and he agrees to go to O’kasis as long as Zane never harms the Phoenix Drop and its people. He’s convinced himself that what he’s doing is for the greater good. He can handle it. He’ll make sure everything is alright, after all he’s a protector and he never deserved Aphmau and Laurance anyway.

#aphmau #minecraft diaries #aphmau mcd #laurance zvahl #mcd rewrite #garmau #garrence #garroth ro'meave #larmau #mcd garroth

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countryclubkook · 1 year

Text

Him or Me

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x fem!Thornton!Reader

Warnings: language, topper being a slight asshole, small mention of parent death and absent parent, not proof read so potential grammatical errors, slightly ooc/fanon Rafe I think that’s all but please let me know if there’s anymore I should add

Summary: when Topper finds out his best friend Rafe is secretly dating his sister behind his back, all hell breaks loose. Will they be able fix their relationship? Or will the betrayal be too much to recover from?

A/N: This is the first story i’ve written in months so i’m still a little rusty. I wanted to get something out though to get back into the groove of things. Italicized means flashback, this also is meant to take place in season 1 after Sarah and John B are together so I hope you all enjoy🤍 I left the ending of this slightly open for a potential part two if people want it/I decide to write one (Topper is 19 and reader is 18 for the sake of this story, Rafe is his canon age in the show)

“You know I’ll take care of you right?” he spoke with such certainty. How could you not believe him?

It was never supposed to be this way, you and your brother's best friend being together, but when he gave you those bedroom eyes and whispered those sweet nothings in your ear how could you resist? The both of you kept it a secret from Topper as long as you could knowing his overprotective nature when it came to you. He had found out when he saw the two of you kissing at the country club, that was a bad night for the three of you.

“My fucking sister dude? Are you kidding me? You could have any girl on this island but you go after my sister?” the vein on his neck popping out as he screamed at Rafe. Neither of you had expected him to be home, let alone for him to be waiting in the living room for you two to come back. As soon as Rafe stepped into the door he was thrown against the wall by his neck, a very angry Topper staring at him with pure hatred.

“Topper stop, let him go. Please.” you pleaded with him but it was no use, his grip stayed the same and he acted as if you weren't there. They were in their own world at that moment.

“Fucking relax man, I chose her for a reason. I love her, and you're not going to stop me from seeing her. So if you're going to hit me and tell me to stay away from her, do it so we can get this over with.” he was visibly annoyed by this as his tone confirmed it. Sure they were friends, but you meant more to Rafe than anyone else so your big brother trying to prevent your relationship was simply just an inconvenience that had no real effect at all.

The two men stared at each other for a moment, nostrils flaring and veins so visible you were getting concerned about their health. It wasn't until Topper let go of Rafe with a small scoff that you felt you could breathe again. You've never felt more shitty in your whole life than you did when Topper looked at you with such betrayal and hurt. He just shook his head and stormed out of the house, the front door slamming behind him.

“Are you okay? I'm so sorry, I didn't know he would be here” you say as you rush over to him and examine his neck that was now red (and would inevitably bruise) from the grip Topper had on it. He watched as you examined him with such worry and such a gentle touch that it reminded him yet again why he was with you, that you were worth whatever argument ensued because you showed him love nobody else would.

“Baby, I'll be fine. I'm more worried about you being okay than my neck.” grabbing the sides of your face and forcing you to look at him. Your eyes were glossy with tears and your breathing slightly uneven. Your relationship with Topper was different than the one Rafe had with his sisters, it had always just been the two of you since you were growing up. Your dad had died when you were babies and your mom was a piece of shit who was never around so that left the two of you to protect and raise each other. Hurting him felt like the biggest stab in the chest and you felt terrible.

“I-” your sobs overpowered your voice before you could finish as you broke down in your lover's arms. His shushed comfort helped bring you some peace but not nearly enough to stop the feeling in your chest from growing. He had moved you over to the couch and held you in his lap until your cries eventually stopped and your breathing remained calm.

“Baby?” he asked quietly in case you had fallen asleep. When he got no response, he gently laid you on the couch and covered you with a blanket before kissing your cheek and heading out to find your brother. Rafe was probably the last person he wanted to see but he would try to talk to him for you.

That “talk” didn't go very well. You didn't know what was said, all you know is that Topper came home bloodied and bruised and didn't say a word to you. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together when you saw Rafes bruised knuckles the next day and his excuse was that he “wanted to try boxing without his gloves”. But a few weeks had passed since then and you thought it would be fine, you and Top would go back to normal and eventually he and Rafe would reconcile like nothing ever happened. If only it was that easy.

Topper had grown increasingly hostile toward you when he decided to acknowledge your existence. His responses were always short and snappy like you were the most horrible person to be speaking with. You knew the only way of fixing this was breaking up with Rafe but there was no way in hell you were doing that so you instead just tried to give him space when you could. But one day he decided that ignoring each other wasn't enough, he needed you to know your options.

‘We need to talk’ one text that always has the ability to make your heart race. You stare at it for 10 minutes trying to figure out the right response before you type back a simple ‘Okay’, his next text telling you he’d meet you at the house in ten minutes. You felt like throwing up and your anxiety was through the roof. You knew what he wanted to talk about, that's what made you nervous. It felt like hours had passed when you finally heard the front door open and heavy footsteps approach the kitchen. Your heartbeat had become very quick when he came into your peripheral vision.

“Hi” a simple word used to greet people now had a more hostile meaning behind it. You finally looked up to see him but he was already looking at you. He still had that same look in his eyes he had that day. Betrayal, disgust, anger, every emotion you had hoped you'd never see him have towards you.

“Hi” your voice much smaller as you tried to avoid his hard gaze. An awkward silence passed for a few moments before he finally spoke again. There was clearly no small talk to be made so it was now or never.

“I'm giving you two options, and I never thought I'd have to say this to you of all people but I guess you really can't trust everyone. I understand you think you love Rafe and that he loves you, but you don't know him like me. Rafe Cameron doesn't ever love someone, he uses them to his advantage until he no longer needs them around and then he leaves them in the dirt. I'm not staying around to watch that happen to you so it's him or me.” his voice was stern, there was no hesitation in his words. He meant every last thing he had just told you.

You stared at him for a moment trying to process what you just heard, did he really just give you an ultimatum? You half expected him to laugh and tell you he was just fucking with you, that he was still upset you hadn't told him but as long as you were happy so was he, but that moment never came. Instead, he continued to stare at you with a pierced gaze waiting for your response.

“Are you serious right now Top?” you chuckled in disbelief. There was no way this was happening right now.

“As serious as a heart attack” no hint of amusement in his voice. Your emotion quickly changed from guilt to anger as his words finally registered.

“You have no right to do that. None. Rafe and I do love each other, we don't think that. You don't know our relationship and this was exactly why we didn't want you finding out. I'm not a baby anymore Topper. I'm a big girl and I can make my own decisions about things, including who I date. If that backfires that's on me and I learn from it. You don't get to decide that for me.” your face had turned red and you felt hot. How dare he make you choose between them.

“Y/N you don't understand okay? I know how he works, I've seen it happen. He's only going to hurt you when-” he tried to argue but you cut him off.

“No. You don't understand. He treats me better than anyone else ever has, he makes me feel loved. You don't know anything about love, that's why your girlfriend cheated on you with a fucking pogue.” his face fell at the comment. You knew it was harsh and uncalled for but you were too upset to care.

“Fuck you Y/N. I'm giving you one last chance to make the right choice” you knew he meant that.

“Fine. You want me to choose so badly? I choose him, I'll always choose him.” your breathing was heavy as you yelled at him. There was no taking it back now so you could only hope it didn't end badly for you.

“Okay” he scoffed “just don't come crying to me when he breaks your heart. You mean nothing to me anymore” he spoke with such disgust that it took everything in you not to cry.

“I won't. He's never going to do that to me” you spoke to him with the same voice he had spoken to you. The two of you staring at each other with anger and a look of disbelief that this had happened to you. Topper gave one last shake of his head before going up the stairs to what you thought was his room. It wasn't until you heard a loud thud a few minutes later that you realized he was in yours.

One by one, bags and boxes of your things came flying down the stairs. Topper was standing at the top with his arms crossed and a satisfied look on his face.

“You want to be with him so bad you can go stay with him. I don't want a lying whore living with me.” his words hurt you more than would ever admit but you swallowed your tears and began packing your car with your things, getting in and starting the car to drive to Rafes once the last thing was thrown in.

He hadn't expected to see your text but all he could do was worry when you’d told him you were on your way to him. The only thing comforting him was pacing around the room and thinking of all the ways he could try and help you. He heard your call pull up and almost broke the door getting to you and his heart shattered when he saw you. Tears streamed down your face, eyes red and puffy, you looked destroyed.

As soon as you were in his arms you broke down, the both of you falling to the ground as your sobs echoed in the warm air. The familiar smell of Rafe's cologne made you feel safe, a feeling you hadn't fully felt since Rafe and Topper's fight. It felt like you were finally home and could relax, the war was over and you could just live again.

“Shh baby it's okay, you're safe now. I've got you” he said as he rested his head on top of yours and wrapped his arms around you tightly. There wasn't much that could be said to help you feel better about the situation but knowing you weren't alone did help to make you feel good. Topper was just jealous he didn't have this type of love with Sarah.

You'd finally calmed down enough to unload your things into Rafe's room. Ward adored you so letting you stay with them was absolutely no issue which you were so thankful for.

Hours had passed and your tears had long stopped. You had taken a nice long shower and now you were in bed with Rafe, it felt natural to you. He gave you a small nudge to get your attention and your eyes met his. He had a slight smirk on his face.

“What? Do I have something on my face” your eyes widening slightly worried you had forgotten to wipe some makeup off your face.

“No no it's not that, it's just… I could get used to this you know? It feels right” his voice was much softer now.

“It does, doesn't it? Maybe this whole situation isn't so bad after all” it was very bad, but maybe you could convince yourself otherwise if you said it enough.

Rafe could see you thinking about the situation again despite what you'd just said so he grabbed your face to hold it in place. His eyes never leaving yours for a second.

“You know I'll take care of you right?” and you had no doubt he would, fuck Topper. You just needed Rafe. He would never betray you like Topper, he would never hurt you the way your brother did. He loved you.

“I know” you smiled sweetly at him before giving him a soft kiss, both of you enjoying the moment of peace before pulling away to turn the lights off. Sleep slowly engulfing you as you relaxed into the others touch. This is how it was meant to be.

If only you knew exactly what getting involved with Rafe Cameron would turn into.

#rafe cameron imagine #rafe obx #rafe cameron x thornton!reader #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fluff #obx angst #obx imagine

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jewishvitya · 5 months

Note

I just wanted to thank you so much for all of your insight and generosity with your perspective as an anti-zionist israeli, something you absolutely don't owe us but I feel immense amounts of respect and admiration for. from an American jew, it's been so valuable to know there are people like you out there, it's made everything feel much less hopeless despite all the hopelessness. I've felt very alone recently, surrounded by all the Jewish people in my life who are pro-israel and don't seem to grasp the gravity of the situation and my pro-palestine gentile friends, and I've felt very alone in my grief as I've only really started to unpack and dismantle my own biases very recently. reading your posts and your perspective on everything has just made me feel very seen as a jew in this situation, especially as I try to reconcile my feelings about everything going on with my own feelings about my faith and my identity.

you've probably seen that I've gone through a lot of your posts and that I've followed you. i just want you to know that I'm not necessarily following you just for that, I know you're just a fandom blog, it's just that after looking through your posts I feel like you're just a really nice person and seeing yoi on my dash from you would be endearing coming from you even though im not into it myself.

just. thank you again for sharing your story and continuing to share. you have no idea how much it's helped me.

I'm in tears. I've been crying way more than usual over the past couple of months, but it's nice for a change to have those tears to come from being touched instead of grief. I apologize if I'm going to ramble.

You say I didn't owe you all this, but I do feel responsible. I'm watching so much destruction and seeing how comfortable people around me are with the loss of life. This is why I've been talking about what we do and not as much about the impact of October 7 on me or people I know. I did a bit of that in the beginning, but pretending it was the start of everything to keep going back to that one day, after two months of horror, as if I can't count past 7... I didn't choose to be born where I am, I didn't choose to grow up in the most extremist community this place has to offer. But since I'm here, since I'm comfortable at the expense of Palestinians and violence is being done in my name and I have the tools to highlight issues within my society, I think it's a moral obligation.

I know how I talk about things here, and that's genuinely because I don't want to minimize the severity of the racism and the nationalism in Israel. And someone perceived my words as showing hatred for Israelis. But... I love my people. I don't expect those who see or experience our violence to feel the same or even understand me, but I do. It's my neighbors and my childhood friends and my family. It's children I see playing outside and getting excited when they see I have a cat, and the random people who stop me in the street and give me directions if they think I look lost.

Even growing up in the West Bank settlements, the people were very good to me. I needed years to internalize the fact that this kindness doesn't get extended to you if you're not part of the in-group. It broke my heart. It still does. Seeing people who I know are capable of kindness and compassion, hardening themselves against the pain of other human beings. Closing their eyes and telling themselves it isn't real. It's all an act.

I told a friend I feel like I'm betraying my mom, who was deeply bigoted, but also a wonderful mother. She taught me a lot of the principles that are guiding me now - I just took down the walls she put around who deserves to be considered. She'd be horrified with seeing the things I'm saying if she was still alive. But she taught me to care about people, I just decided it means all people.

Everyone should be prioritizing Palestinian liberation, and at the same time, I care about this too. I care about the morality of my people. I need us to be better than this. I want to dismantle the nationalism that teaches us hate and violence so we can start to heal and come to terms with what we did (and still do) here. I want us to fix what we can and hold ourselves accountable. I want us to reimagine safety in a way that doesn't cause harm, and build good relationships with the rest of humanity. Every marginalized community is experiencing bigotry in interactions with every other community, that's just how these things work. But I believe healing the world, and healing my society, is possible.

And it's hard, because so much of what we learn is rooted in truth. Antisemitism is real. Millennia of persecution are real. The trauma we carry is real. If the idea of an ethnostate makes us feel safe, and the idea of losing it makes us scared, how do we differentiate between fear as a natural reaction to antisemitic violence and fear that was taught to us for the sake of nationalism? Especially those of us living in Israel, immersed in the propaganda. It doesn't matter in practice, our feelings of safety or fear don't justify an ethnostate, especially not one built on top of another nation, but it matters for the conversations I have with people.

And I said that the violence I'm seeing feels like an attack on my identity. Seeing a giant hannukiyah in Gaza, when Hannukah tells the story of occupied people fighting off their oppressors. Seeing images that echo so much of the horrors that were done to us. The Magen David being used with hate and spite. It's all so painful. And I love this land, it's the only home I've known, so seeing us destroying nature and soaking it with blood and calling that connection?

Judaism does guide me here. The concept of tikkun olam. The idea of לא עליך המלאכה לגמור ולא אתה בין חורין לבטל ממנה - doing what I can, even if what I'm able to do isn't some decisive blow that entirely turns the tide. The idea that every human being is a whole entire world, to me it means that every single person alive is worth fighting for. So no matter how much death I see, there's still worlds more to save.

And Jewitches had this post that felt just healing to read. Nationalism hijacked our culture, and it will always leave a mark for centuries into the future. But I'm not letting go, and I'm not letting that create a rift between me and thousands of years full of history I can be proud of.

I feel your grief. And I'm grateful for the anti-zionist Jews I met by talking about this, because honestly, I need you people in my life. The pain and the anger are both easier to hold together.

So, thank you for following. I might follow back, just to see you around on my feed. And thank you for sending this. Feel free to message me anytime for any reason (I promise it won't result in a lecture every time).

Also, your url gave me pjo nostalgia

#riki babbles

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leonstoenailunderhisbed · 2 months

Text

Break me.

MDNI - 18+

Warning: no protection. p in v. no plot. subordinate/superior. office. age gap. hatred. female reader.

Summary: I had a dream about this exactly but I didn’t see his face so I’m just going to pretend it’s Leon.

………………………………………………………………………………….

You had been appointed to work under THE Leon Kennedy. Ever since you wanted to join the force, you’ve heard stories about the man’s adventures and you couldn’t wait for the day you would meet him. Unfortunately for you, he only thought of you as a pest.

Every time you’d see, you would say ‘Hi’ and the occasional ‘Good morning!’ But you were only met with a scowl and sometimes even a nod. You didn’t care, however. You were far too happy to even be in the same room as him. You pardoned his scowls and his harsh and cold tones whenever he spoke to you.

He would always reply with short words. The less he talked, the better. But you couldn’t blame him, he’s been through so much and he has all these emotions pent up inside. You’d catch him all by himself during breaks. He hated the company, he felt like he HAD to be involved in a conversation. Everything felt like a burden to him. Even you.

You were young and naive. Too happy, he thought. How can someone be so cheerful when there’s all this cruelty and chaos happening? He thought you were strange. But maybe that was how kids your age were nowadays. Brain dead, he called it.

You knew that underneath all that anger, was someone so compassionate and kind. But he’s been betrayed before and he wouldn’t want to go through that pain again. So he built walls around himself, to protect his peace. Until you came around.

You two were in the same office, same room as always. He was looking over some details about missions on his files. But what were you doing? You were talking nonstop. It’s become a habit of yours. And he doesn’t know why hasn’t stopped you from talking about whatever it is you had in your mind. Work gossip? You’d spill it. What you did over the weekend? You’d tell him in full detail. Usually he would ignore it, like I said, he thought you were strange.

That is until one day, you wore this cute little outfit and it hugged your figure just right. He wasn’t one to stare but damn did you look ravenous. Your tight clothes hugged your breasts and ass like a puzzle piece. You looked like a classical Greek sculpture. Surreal and ethereal.

But he wouldn’t say that to you. Never. He was older and he was your superior. Why would he have these thoughts about the young woman he worked with?

He was sitting down on a chair and you were standing as you read over some detail out loud to him. But he wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying, god no. He was scanning your body with that outfit. He felt hot and bothered that you looked this good.

He shifted in his seat as he noticed a growing bulge in his pants. He quickly put his hand over his bulge. He may be an asshole but he had manners.

Unfortunately for him, you noticed. And once you noticed, your cheeks grew red and your eyes widened ever so slightly. You quickly continued reading but you stuttered.

Cute, he thought. He’s got you flustered. He decided to play with you. He uncovered his hand and leaned back into his chair.

You know what they say about men taking up all the space? Yeah he did that too. He spread his legs apart as he got in a comfortable position. Making his boner very noticeable from this angle. He was huge.

You don’t know how it happened. You just found yourself kneeling down between his legs. Your hands gripping on his thighs as he slowly unbuttoned his pants and pulled out his cock.

You took his big cock on your mouth and felt his tip reach the back of your throat. You gagged and twirled your tongue around his thick shaft and sucked him like no tomorrow. His cock fucking your mouth as you bobbed your head back and forth. You felt your pussy grow wet and began to rub your swollen clit with your hand as your other hand held on to his thigh. Tears pricked at your eyes as you felt his cock twitch inside your mouth. His hands traveled to your head and gripped on your hair as he bucked his hips into your face, wanting you to take him fully. He kept thrusting into your throat until you felt his cock twitch and squirm in your mouth. He brought his hand down your jaw and forced you to open your mouth wider as he shot his cum in you.

The saltiness of his cum dripping down your throat as he pulled out from your mouth and forced your jaw to close. He looked down at you and spoke with his deep voice.

“Swallow.”

He commanded. You nodded and swallowed his cum.

As you stood up, you felt your thighs rub against each other as you grew wet from sucking his cock. You slowly pulled down your pants with your panties and got on his lap. You held on to his shoulders as he wrapped his big calloused hands on your waist. You leveled myself on top of his hardened length and slowly sank in. As you took him slowly, he threw his head back and closed his eyes tightly shut as he tried to suppress a groan of pleasure.

“Fuck y/n… you feel so good,” He mumbled against your ear.

Growing desperate, he harshly pulled you down so you could take his cock inside. He stretched you out completely and you moaned in reaction. He breathed out shakily as you began to move against him in a circular motion. Feeling his shaft inside you drove you wild. You brought your head to the crook of his neck and bit down to muffle any moans of pleasure. He grew desperate and began to lift you up and down on his cock. The sounds of your skin clashing against each other echoing through his office as you felt tears prick at your eyes. Pleasure washing over you as you felt his hand travel down to your bud and used his rough thumb to rub your swollen clit. You moaned his name as you became a hot mess.

“Leon,”

You felt your stomach tie up in knots as your walls began to clench around his thick manhood.

“I’m going to cum-“

You choked out through moans and whimpers and he only quickened his pace, driving you insane with his touch. No matter how much he hated you, he definitely knew how to prove it by fucking you so rough. Through one last thrust against your pussy, you came hard on his cock and your body spasmed. He kept thrusting in you, lifting you up and down through your high as you felt his cock twitch inside you. He grunted and he gripped on your sides as he pulled you down to the base of his cock and cummed inside you. His hot juices spurting inside you, hitting your deepest lengths. He pulled you to his chest as you rode his cock after he came, making sure you milked him of every last drop. You both remained there for a moment, panting and catching your breath after your intimate session. He pulled you away and stared into your eyes as you barely had the energy to move. He lifted you up and pulled out you. Once he pulled out, cum began to drip down the sides of your inner thighs to his chair. He used his index finger to pick up the cum and stuff it right back inside your pussy with no warning, earning a soft moan from you as you felt his long finger inside you. He pulled his finger away and gently lifted you off of him. You leaned on his desk for support as he began to clean you and his chair. He pulled his boxers up and put on his pants as he picked up your underwear from the floor and gently dressed you up. His hands working so lightly as if he was scared of breaking you.

And you would let him break you again.

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #smut #resident evil #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x reader #leon smut #leon s kennedy

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red-balloon12 · 3 months

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Sooo since people are complaining about Chaggie/Vaggie being boring and stuff (though I don’t see much of people trying to give ideas to how this could be fixed-)

I’m gonna give a layout to make both Vaggie and the relationship more spicy.

So I think the best route to go about this is to have Vaggie still be a fallen Angel. But the thing about this is that Charlie doesn’t KNOW she’s a fallen Angel. As far as Charlie’s concerned, she met Vaggie a while ago while wandering the streets of hell trying to find someone to aid her in her “Happy Hotel” start up quest.

She meets Vaggie at some coffee shop and the two make quick friends. To Charlie, she just met Vaggie but to Vaggie, she had already met Charlie, some time ago during the last execution.

Vaggie, still as an Angel, did not like heaven. She thinks it’s full of hypocrisy and she’s not all that well treated there. But the two things had kept her from leaving heaven was the fear of hell her hatred of demons. (I’d imagine she probably hated Charlie a lot because she’s the daughter of hell) Until one execution where she was about to kill one demon but said demon was saved by Charlie. Hell, they could even have a face off. But in those moments, Vaggie’s worldview is challenged by Charlie’s unwavering want to protect her people.

The angels retreat and Vaggie is stuck with her battle between her and Charlie replaying over and over in her head. If the daughter of hell can have kindness….then maybe other demons can? This thought finally pushed Vaggie to leave heaven (or get kicked out. Idk how it works-)

She decided to transform into a moth demon with Charlie in mind (because cute moth to light allegory).

Flash forward to current times and Vaggie is the manager of the Happy/Hazbin hotel but, as we can see from what’s out already, the past has come to haunt her in the form of Adam. Throughout the show Adam will constantly tease and hint at Vaggie’s past and Vaggie will have to work hard to deny everything. After all, why would Charlie ever love someone who tried to kill her and her people?

Hell, Alastor could even get in on the tea after finally putting together the pieces. Have him constantly plant seeds of doubt within Charlie, saying something along the lines of “you’re love with Vaggie isn’t as strong as you think it is” and such. Have Charlie slowly start to doubt Vaggie on her love and loyalty to not only the hotel but to her. Have Vaggie dig herself deeper and deeper into a hole with every lie she tells Charlie.

And when the truth finally comes out, due to either Vaggie trying to protect Charlie from something and accidentally outing herself, Alastor or Adam, Charlie feels betrayed…but not because of anything Alastor would try to say to Charlie (spinning things so that it would look like Vaggie was a spy sent from heaven to ruin the hotel) but because Vaggie didn’t trust her enough to tell her about Vaggie’s past.

This angst can go one for maybe an episode or two. Through events Vaggie can talk to Lilith about stuff and Lilith can say something along the lines of “the people who truly care about you wouldn’t care about who you were then, but who you are now and you have to do that for yourself.” For you see, this story isn’t just about Charlie and Vaggie but it’s about Vaggie realizing how much she’s changed but also how much she needs to grow. She needs to learn how to forgive herself and stop letting her past as an Angel hinder what she has now.

And for Charlie (as much as this isn’t her fault) reflects (maybe with her dad) about Vaggie. Lucifer tells Charlie about how Lilith found out about him being a fallen Angel and how they made their relationship work and how fell apart. How he doesn’t want the same for her and Vaggie.

The two meet up…maybe at the coffee shop where they “first” met and they talk after a while. Vaggie goes on to apologize for lying to Charlie, the executions and explains the real reason she fell into hell. And her reasoning makes Charlie fall in love with her all over again. Vaggie chose hell over heaven for her, she chose to work with her to get her passion project up and running and stuck by her despite all of the backlash the idea gave them. Despite the backlash and consequences for being a traitor of heaven.

It makes Charlie appreciate Vaggie so much more than she did before. And she expresses this. Yes, she’s hurt that Vaggie wasn’t honest with her, but she understands why she wasn’t. Charlie tells Vaggie that she’d love her no matter what and she shouldn’t have to be afraid to tell her anything. She reflects that maybe she’s helped a little bit in that insecurity, being so wrapped up in the production of the hotel, constantly letting other people sway her mind and being a little neglecting towards her. Charlie apologizes as well and the two get back together, stronger than ever.

Is this perfect….nope. But I think it does the duo some justice while also utilizing other characters as well. Lemme know what you guys think.

#chaggie #charlie x vaggie #Chaggie criticism #but also Chaggie sugar #hazbin charlie #hazbin critique #hazbin hotel criticism #Hazbin Vaggie #hazbin alastor #hazbin lilith #hazbin lucifer #slight Hazbin fandom salt

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hiorisgf · 1 year

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Hii! For the valentine's event can i please request Kaiser with marriage booth? Thank you so muuuch!⚘️

##DO YOU LOVE ME OR NOT, WANNA FIND OUT?

↪In which, Kaiser thinks the best way to find out if you love or hate him is by a kiss

↪ft. Kaiser

↪Guess who forgot who Kaiser was halfway through😍😋 Also, I tried.

↪Mentions of murder(jokingly, probably) and uh roaches?(somewhat a replacement for butterflies bc im original like that/j im sorry)

Event navigation

"You insufferable bastard."

"D'aww, can't you at least sugarcoat your words, mein Liebling?" You scowl at the pet name, and Kaiser finds the sight adorable—very kissable, he'd add.

Kaiser places a hand on his chest, his face mocking a hurt expression. "You wound me, dearest. The price for this experience was not a hefty one; the least you could do is thank me for giving you this one-of-a-kind experience."

The gasp you let out was nothing short of comical. And the guests—your classmates—grows curious about the conversation you're having.

"You paid to have us in this hellhole?!"

The way Kaiser looks at you makes it seem as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Yes," he said, and you considered committing 2nd degree murder right then and there.

Your hands are trembling with fury, and all you see is red. Blood—you're out for Kaiser's blood, and you'd be sure to squeeze him of every last drop once you've managed to stop his heart from beating entirely.

"Why do you hate me so, dearest?" he asks, and you're drawn out of your thoughts as you stare at him dumbfoundedly.

Come to think of it, why did you hate him exactly?

The answer to his question was left unfounded, even to you. All that you knew was that ever since he'd decided to bother you to the best of his abilities, your heart started to flutter as your liver and lungs danced around, doing a tango in your stomach. Heat would rise up to your face and smoke would come out of your pores the more he spent time pursuing you, and from then on, you assumed it must be because you hate him.

"That's none of your business."

"Oh, but it is. You're bullying me for no reason whatsoever."

You flare your nostrils in annoyance—at least, what you think is annoyance—at the way the cockroaches fly and buzz around in your stomach, begging to be sprayed with insecticides. You've noticed it appearing more often; the insects comes and flies around at times where Kaiser flashes his stupid, stupid smile at you. You remain silent as the makeshift priest drags on his speech. A second more, and Kaiser asks you yet another question: "Is it really hatred you feel for me, dearest?"

"Yes," you reply without skipping a beat.

"Oh, how you hurt me, beloved."

He begins his theatrics, and you roll your eyes at the sight. But despite your apparent display of annoyance, a microsmile graces your lips, barely noticeable to normal people but an easy find for Kaiser, who loved you dearly.

He takes ahold your hand in his, and you try to pry his wretched hand away from yours, pulling and tugging on it with force no stronger than when you try to lift a hundred weights. But Kaiser makes it clear he has no plans of letting go when he refuses to budge his hold on yours. His eyes gleams with something you find, you are a stranger to. And the heat of summer seems to hit you the most as blood rushes to your cheeks and leaves it smothering.

"Pray, do tell, does your heart flutter when I hold your hand like this?" He asks, and your face forms an expression you think is one of scorn. The next, he's inching your hand closer to his face—too close to feel his breath, in fact, and the room grows hotter; despite the ac being turned on to the highest point, it's as hot as the desert's temperature—and maybe even hotter than that.

Your heart, the idiotic organ that pumps up blood, leaps and soars and has suddenly learned to do ballet when he presses his lips on your knuckles, eyes never leaving your face as he kisses it softly. It's similar to the hundreds of novels and movies your friends had forced you to watch alongside them—the way he looks at you, as if he's the main lead of a romance movie—and you, his love interest. "Or does it do leaps and twirls when I do this?"

By now, you're rendered speechless and immobile as Kaiser asks you questions you'd answer yes to. Lungs almost failing when he pulls you closer, the crowd gasps and cheers, but you pay them no mind. Your focus remains on Kaiser and how he looks so frustratingly beautiful wearing that suit and along with it, his hair tied up in a ponytail.

"Well? Riddle me this, dearest, does my face without fail, pop up in your daydreams? Do I ever cross your mind, and do you wonder how do I do?"

If you were to answer truthfully, you'd tell him yes. That his mind plagues you every waking moment, that you worry and wonder if the smile he makes whenever he's with you isn't exclusive only to you, that you wonder if his teasing remarks meant anything at all. You'd tell him you think of him too much; it's maddening and bothering.

"What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying, are you sure it's hatred you feel for me rather than love?"

"Interesting, where did you get the idea? Was I doing a bad job at not leading you on?"

"Certainly not, you've done too good of a job I almost got discouraged," he chuckles, "but I've read somewhere that love and hate are two sides of the same coin, and I'm just a hopeless fool who wishes you've mistaken the other for the truth."

Kaiser leans closer, and your breath hitches because of the proximity you share with him. "Won't you indulge this man in his foolishness, dearest?"

Your eyes lock onto his ocean blue eyes, and for a moment, you're stuck in a trance. "Why not? This ought to be fun," you say, and you almost fall to your knees when you find Kaiser smiling down at you. god, this stupid man and his stupid smile, you'll kill him someday, most probably.

"Splendid!"

"Well, what do you have in mind?"

He hums, and it's only then that you haven't released yourself from his hold yet. His face is close, so much so that you could count his eyelashes, and his breath tickles your skin, leaving goosebumps trailing over its place. His arms rests on your waist, holding it firmly yet loosely enough for you to move out if you wanted to. And maybe you should; it's the most genius idea you could come up with at the moment. But something in you refuses to let you move away, and rather makes you lean into his touch. And if Kaiser noticed—which he most definitely did—then he didn't say anything.

The priest continues his speech, and you notice him pausing from time to time to eavesdrop on your conversation. But it seems like Kaiser didn't mind, given the way he continues speaking despite the priest's obvious eavesdropping.

His eyes flickers to your lips for a split second, and had you blinked, you're sure it would have gone by unnoticed. But you noticed, and it sure didn't do well for your mental health.

"I've been thinking long and hard about it, and how about we kiss?"

His blunt words leaves your mouth agape and your eyes looking at him with a silent question of "what?"

Laughter bubbles up from Kaiser's lips, and your stare turns into a glare, one sharp enough that should you not have an ego as large as Kaiser's, you'd be sure to cower away in fear.

"Be serious"

"Oh, but I'am, darling dearest. I believe kissing is the best way to know if you love me or not."

Doubtful, those were the words that were imprinted in the way you stared at him. "Be for real, Kaiser. How are we supposed to know with that method?"

"If we kiss and you feel something, then you're in love, simple as that."

"How am I supposed to know if it's special?"

"You'll know when you feel it. Experience is the best teacher above all else, after all." He pauses, giving you time to think. "Well, what do you say?"

You nod, and at that very moment, the priest finally gets to the part people seemed to be aniticipating from the start.

"You may now kiss the bride!"

Kaiser moves his hand to rest on your shoulder, face moving closer until he's a breath away, and your hand trembles, whether from nervousness or excitement, you aren't sure. He connects his lips with yours, and you shut your eyes close.

Oh.

A firework is sparked, and it soars into the sky, exploding into thousands of pieces in the shape of a heart. The butterflies goes rampant, aggressively fluttering around, and it feels like you're riding a rollercoaster, your heart thumping so wildly it's almost concerning and inhuman. Your legs are weak, threatening to give up underneath you, and it's pathetic how you have to hold onto him for balance.

His hand moves to caress your cheeks, and the simple gestures sends over a tsunami of emotions you don't know how to process. It gets your lips twitching, threatening to form a smile too dorky for your character, and you feel like melting into a puddle of nothing but the emotions the event makes you feel.

When Kaiser pulls away, he's grinning from ear to ear, and you think you'll faint with how unfairly pretty it is.

"Well, what do you think?" he asks a minute later, but the smirk that rests on his face tells you he's already figured out the thoughts that courses through your head as you gasp for air.

"Do you think you've got it all sorted now? If you don't, we can always go for another one," he winks, and you think all the feelings you had for him had been washed away by the shore. It's funny how love comes and goes so fast.

And oh, heavens no, you think it's returned—the feelings that the waves had taken away—happily returned on a silver platter when you spot him looking at you, so full of love it leaves you gagging. Why does love come and go so fast.

#blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #kaiser x reader #michael kaiser x reader #♡xylvie's 100 + valentines event!!

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