#it’s starting to feel suffocating but i’m too fucking embarrassed still

[deadandwalking]

if teenage years are the best years of my life why am i apologising to the little girl in my head why am i fearing my family falling apart why am i failing to accept my bio family are not good for me why am i worried about grades and jobs and life why am i preparing to mourn my best friend why am i fearing growing old why do i miss what i never had why do i miss people who don’t miss me why am i disgusted by my own urges, wants and needs why do i cry over the things i love the most why do i seek comfort in fiction because reality is against me why do i fear the touch i crave why do i feel i am dying

[carbondioxda]

Too hot to cuddle

Prince Zuko x reader<3

c/w: fluffy, too hot to cuddle trope (reverse trope), hot weather conditions, the reader is a girl, reader is a waterbender, no use of y/n, third person, frozen elsa reference don’t even ask, harsh language cause what the fuck is this weather

a/n: had this in my drafts for months but I just finished it because I’m living through a heatwave nightmare right now and actually feeling like reader. This is horrible. It’s 35 Celcius and my ass is tweaking

sorry for any mistakes! english isn’t my first language. and the way I write dialogue might be different than what you’re used to

The air was suffocating. It felt as if she was breathing some kind of piping hot spores instead or oxygen. The girl was laying in a bed, that was way too warm for comfort and as embarrassing as it was, she swore she felt a sweat puddle on the mattress underneath her.

The fact that her boyfriend happened to be a firebender was making things even worse now. Firebenders are naturally warmer than others, maybe to adapt to the heat when they're fighting or for god knows what other reason. Still, Zuko's toned hands on her waist were making her feel as if he's gonna burn her body alive. They made her get those heat waves all over her, worse than chills every now and then.

"I'm gonna melt. Not in the good way." - she thought to herself. It's not like she wanted to get up. It was a cute little routine of theirs to cuddle and sleep together, ever since her and Zuko started traveling together.

However, The Earth Kingdom's summer nights were unbereable. Besides, that the little hut they rented was made for winter season, so it kept all of the warmth in. No wonder it was so cheap in this time of the year, anybody would go insane in those conditions.

She finally got up and sat on the bed. The hairs on her forehead were sticking to her skin and she had a sudden urge to chug a few litres of ice cold water. This was bad.

- You okay? - Zuko half-whispered, his voice cracking from tiredness.

- Yeah, it's just...hot as hell in here. - she got up and went to the bathroom. She was too exhausted to take a glass, so she drank right from the sink. The bed creaked, meaning that he also got up.

- Are you sure everything's okay? - he rubbed his eyes, speaking in his hoarse, tired voice.

- I feel like I'm melting. It's so hot I swear I'm gonna suffocate. - she said, gulping the water. Even the water didn't seem to be cold enough for her liking, so she had to chill the water with her waterbending.

- I guess it is a little warmer today. - he mumbled, finding her state funny somehow. The heat never bothered him anyway. She noticed him looking around and trying to think of some evil plan, as always.

- A little warmer today…for the love of god. What are you looking at? - she asked, catching eye contact with him in the mirror. He was staring somewhere.

-Nothin'

- You've been staring at the...- she turned to where he was looking. - …bathtub?

- No I wasn't. - he shrugged. His actions didn't really match his words, as he turned the faucet on and plugged the drain.

- Are you seriously gonna take a bath now? It's 2 am.

- No. But you are. - he said, lifting her up bridal style and putting her into the bathtub. Before she could register what's happening, she was in the water, fully clothed.

- whattHEFUCK?! - she shouted, almostjumping when her pijama got wet in the cold water, that splashed around from the impact of her hitting it. It was a shock for a second and then, it was....nice? The air wasn't so suffocating anymore and her skin wasn't burning.

- You'd overheat if I didn't do that. - he smiled and sat down on the floor next to her.

- You could've given me a heads up. Now my clothes are wet.

- They were wet from the sweat anyway. I could’ve told you but naah, seeing your reaction was better. It's not so bad, is it? I mean, you stayed in.

- ...it's not worse. - she half-whispered.

- Just don't think of bloodbending my ass in there, I'm not as hot as you are.

- Aww, you think I'm hot?

- What? Uh-shit. Poor choice of words. I mean, you are, I just didn't mean...nevermind.

- Nah, I can't blame you, I'm hot as shit. - she scoffed, cold water meeting more of her skin and the material of her pijamas.

- Shut up. - he scoffed, which resulted in a splash of water being bended on his face. - That was unnecessary.

- It absolutely was. 

- Okay just find something to keep yourself busy for a few minutes. I'll open the windows, maybe it's gonna help. - Zuko smiled and headed out of the bathroom. In a few minutes of his absence and some chill water calming down the girl’s overheating situation, she felt exhaustion washing over her. She didn’t have to worry about the hotness of the room anymore and her body desperately needed rest. Her eyes grew heavy.

Zuko did manage to help her get out of the bathtub and got her some dry clothes. Then he carried her to the bed, this time not to throw her into another surprise but just to sleep. The room was colder, faint breeze hit their skins thanks to the opened windows from time to time. The sheets didn’t feel like lava anymore and it was good. Good enough to sleep.

- ’night. - she mumbled, getting comfortable.

- goodnight, love. - he mumbled back. She instinctively wanted to snuggle up to him, but he stopped her. - No cuddling for today. Otherwise I’ll have to carry you to the bathtub again.

- ’kay. - she said quietly. He gave her a small kiss on the forehead, before turning to his side. This was the first time in their lives that it was in fact too hot to cuddle.

[chuuyasheaven]

5,10,12 with chuuya and dazai (separately) pls.. as in Oral sex (fem receiving)!!!

Prompt/Number; 5: “I know you can take it, baby/angel.”/ 10: “You taste so sweet, darling.”/ 12: “Let me hear your sweet moans, baby/princess.”

Summary; Soukoku pleasing the virgin!fem!Reader (separately)! <3

Warnings; Oral (fem! receiving), Petnames, Teasing (in Dazai’s Part), Virgin!Reader, Praise kink, Chuuya being pussydrunk, fingering maybe, Suicidal jokes (Dazai, what do you expect??), Chuuya starlight up worshipping us fr, etc.

Notes (from me); Normally, i don’t do this but since i don’t have school for a week, i might aswell let that slide lol. Enjoy! 🤭

It’s your first time doing this, letting Dazai have access to your pussy.

Of course, you trust him very much, but you still wanna take things slow, meaning he’ll let you know how it is getting pleased by his tongue.

Still nervous, Dazai just tries to assure you that you’ll get sent straight to heaven when he’ll start.

With his hand gripping your thighs, that were placed on his shoulders, he makes one last suicidal joke.

“I wouldn’t mind dying like this, suffocating between your thighs would be the best way to enter hell, Bella, y’know?”, you were impatient as Dazai’s breath kept brushing against your wet cunt, waiting for him to go down on it.

“Whatever, can we s-start already..?”, Dazai chuckled as he decided this was the right time to tease.

“Growing impatient, i see. Well, darling, I’ll get you straight to heaven, hm?”, you wanted to respond as you got cut of by a moan from yourself.

It was Dazai, he started with a long, simple lick. Which made you lose your mind.

Now, i don’t blame you, it’s his tongue we should blame, right?

You were so embarrassed by that moan that cut you off, you tried to keep it down, which Dazai despised.

Therefore he added a finger to press against your clit, making you lose yet another moan.

“That’s right, let me hear your sweet moans, princess. If I’m pleasuring you, i want to hear how good I’m at it.”, this man, he always knew how to put his mouth to good use, didn’t he?

“S-shut up..i know your a-already aware of it..”, “You’re right, you’re getting wetter each second, Bella. Should be proof enough, don’t you agree?”, Dazai wasn’t lying, his voice and tongue were responsible for this.

He went back to making out with your pussy, going back to rubbing on your bud.

“But it’s okay, you taste sweet, darling. The more the better, am i right?”, you were getting closer each lick, each rub made the knot in your stomach closer to explode. The pleasure became too much for you.

“T-too much..D-dazai, c-can’t take it- it’s overwhelming m-me!”, you forced past your lips, trying not to moan during.

“I know you can take it, angel. I’m almost done, okay?”, Dazai claimed, he was right once again, because you were about to snap in a mere seconds.

Finally, the sweet release hit you right to the ninth cloud of heaven.

“See? Feels so good, right?”

“Are you sure you’re ready, doll?” Chuuya asked as he kneeled down to face your bare cunt.

“Y-yes, I’m ready, please me, Chuuya.”, Chuuya smirked at this.

He kissed it lightly, making your breath hitch.

But he wanted to hear more.

Chuuya dived into your pussy like it was his last meal, which made it more difficult to stay quiet.

“Let me hear your sweet moans, baby. Maybe they’re more pretty than this pussy, hm?”, oh god, Chuuya really knows how to get you off, doesn’t he?

But, since it’s literally impossible to stay quiet, you let go.

Just how he wanted.

This encouraged him to treat your cunt with all the wet licks and kisses it deserves.

This made you loose your mind, Chuuya was really going at it-

“You taste so fuckin' sweet, angel. Fuck, i can't believe i get to fuck this pussy, aren't you excited, baby?”, oh how right he was.

The knot was about to snap when Chuuya suddenly pulled away, making you whine at the loss.

“Chuuya? W-why did you- oh god..!”, Chuuya let two fingers enter the wet, begging pussy of yours.

He still had his gloves on, but you didn't care, because they were a new level of pleasure, one you couldn't handle so well.

Chuuya moved his fingers in scissor-motion, this almost made you scream.

He really was skilled with his hands..

All this was way too much for you- i mean, all at once? This was wild.

“C-chuuya..s-slow down- it's t-t'much..!”, Chuuya was already deep into your cunt, already too pussydrunk of you. He couldn't bring himself to stop.

“Come on, please- i know you can take it, angel.”, you don't exactly know what has gotten into Chuuya, but his needyness made you cum in an instant.

As the waves of your high hit you, you hear Chuuya undo his belt.

“I felt you on my tongue and on my fingers, it wouldn't be fair to leave my cock out, right, baby?”

I think i made Chuuyaʼs WAY to short..but i hope you enjoyed it! 💔 (could've been better tho..)

[tkwrites]

The Second Time Is Better - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Photos from Pinterest

Title: The Second Time is Better

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn x Sarah

Warnings: fluffy smut (18+ only), penetration, talks of anxiety and under performing

Summary: Sequel to Love Me Gently, Quinn and Sarah have sex for the first time. After a disappointing first performance, they're in for an experience much deeper than either one expected. 

Word count: 1,400

The Second Time is Better

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

The walk to the bathroom was the most embarrassing part. Not only were his legs wobbly from coming, he hadn’t lasted more than two strokes. Sure, he hadn’t slept with someone in a while, and he hadn’t slept with someone he really liked in… well, he wasn’t sure he’d ever liked anyone as much as he liked Sarah. 

Seeing her naked along with being inside her for the first time was too much, and he'd lost it nearly as soon as he’d started. 

Breathing slowly to calm down, he cleaned himself up, thinking through what he was going to say when he went back to her.  

Sarah had pulled up the covers, resting them under her arms. Just the sight of her in his bed made his knees want to buckle. 

Self conscious, he walked from the bathroom and slid under the covers. He lay on his back, mirroring her posture. 

He was just opening his mouth to say something when her hand found his, lacing their fingers together. It was such an unexpected, sweet gesture, Quinn lost his coherent train of thought. It took him a few moments to get it back. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, staring at the light fixture. 

The sheets rustled, “for what?” 

He felt like a fool of epic proportions as he glanced at her. Did she not even care? She had this peaceful look on her face, like she wasn’t disappointed at all. 

“For,” he gestured with his free hand, “for my two stroke performance there.” 

She giggled, “Quinn, it was our first time. I know this may disappoint you, but I didn’t expect a whole lot. The first time is always a sham with someone new. From everything else we've done so far, I know you’ll listen to what I need and it’ll get better.” 

And just like that, his anxiety blew away. Some of it lingered, of course. Some of it always lingered, but it wasn't so embarrassingly suffocating. 

He blew out a breath, “how are you so perfect?” 

She laughed, “I am not perfect. I’ve just learned to have realistic expectations.” 

He rolled on his side, and pulled her closer with their clasped hands. “See what I mean? Perfect.” 

Their lips met in a soft kiss. 

Soon enough, he was back on top of her, reaching into his nightstand for another condom. 

When he pushed into her, engaging in some mental coaching to stay steady and not get too excited, he moaned around a deep exhale. 

“You feel so good,” he managed to say. 

Had he even said anything before, or had he been too wrapped up in his own head?

Sarah’s fuck it attitude was back. She wanted to touch and memorize him so badly. She had with her past two boyfriends too, but always held back, worried that her intensity would scare them away. Quinn had proved all of her fuck it feelings unwarranted thus far, so she leaned into them, watching his unfocused eyes as her fingers brushed over his chiseled cheekbone. 

Quinn’s eyes snapped to hers. He found her studying him like a work of art, her hand gently moving to trace his jaw. 

When their gazes locked, it knocked the breath out of him in a way that had nothing to do with her warm, tight heat. He’d never made eye contact like this during sex. This was intimate. Intimate in a way that made him realize he’d never fully understood the meaning of the word before. 

Captivated, he found he couldn't look away.  

The reality of Quinn really seeing her intensity made Sarah blush on top of the sensual flush in her skin. She’d never made eye contact like this during sex either. She didn’t think he was pulling away, but she felt like she still had to brace for the consequences.

“Sorry,” she said, quietly, not looking away.  

“For what?” 

One of her shoulders shrugged up. “I just wanted to remember this - and you,” she said, gently moving a lock of his hair off his forehead. 

Quinn had never felt so desired before - in every sense of the word. Sarah saw him, not just as a body, or an athlete, or a bank account, but as Quinn. She saw it all and still wanted him. 

He sputtered, “you don’t have to apologize for that.” 

She smiled, shyly, and he wanted to give her the world. The world on a silver platter. That wouldn’t happen (at least not right then), so he supposed he would settle for giving her an orgasm. 

“What do you need?” he asked, voice soft. 

She bit her lip, watching him for a while longer, memorizing the slack set of his jaw, and the way his Adam's apple moved in his throat. 

“Can I be on top?” she asked. 

He didn’t mean to, but a groaned laugh still fell out of his mouth. “Like you need to ask.” 

Carefully flipping them over, he settled as she adjusted, taking him a little deeper. 

Their eyes were still locked together as Sarah leaned forward slightly, gently rocking her clit against his pelvis. Quick bolts of pleasure raced into her veins. Her eyelids grew heavy, but she didn’t look away. 

It was easier for Quinn to hold on this time. He was able to brace himself. He let watching her take over most of his mind, no longer fixating on how tight she was, or how good she felt. Those thoughts were still there, of course - there was no way he could avoid them - but the forefront of his thoughts were caught on her delicate face, the gentle jostle of her breasts as she rocked into him and how much he liked her. It didn’t hurt that she wasn’t moving fast enough to send him over the cliff.

"Quinn," she moaned. 

That might do it. He bit his lip to distract himself. 

"Quinn, touch me."

His hands swept up her sides, and covered her breasts. 

She moaned, letting the sensations in her body take hold. The comfortable feeling she got with Quinn made her so much less self conscious. She didn't think about what she looked like as much when she was with him. It had been a long time - perhaps this was the only time - since she'd felt that way. It was such a relief to just be. 

Without that distraction, her orgasm raced to her quicker than with any other partner. 

Bracing her hands on his chest, she kept rocking, marveling at how much better it felt to clench around his hard, hot length than what they had done before. The pleasure kept coming and coming, rolling through her in waves. 

Quinn moaned. It didn't matter that she was rocking slowly. The way her back arched, pushing her chest into his hands along with the rhythmic pulses of her orgasm felt like heaven. Hell, she could even stay stock still except for that pulsing desire, and he would have no choice but to come. 

"Sarah," he moaned. 

It was the hottest thing she'd ever heard. She loved how much Quinn used her name instead of a pet name, as if he was making sure she knew who was making him feel this way. 

"Fuck, Sarah, I'm gonna…" his words fell away as his climax finally triggered. 

His hands slid to her hips of their own accord, gripping, holding her steady as he sought his last traces of pleasure. 

Finally spent, Sarah collapsed on him, chest to chest, her hair spilling over his shoulder. His arms draped around her waist.

After a few moments of their skin pressing together with each ragged inhale, she caught her breath and pushed herself up. 

“Stay,” Quinn said, tensing his arms around her. 

A smile crept over her mouth and Sarah adjusted, shifting slightly so he slipped out and she could lay her head on the front of his shoulder. 

“See,” she said, lips brushing the side of his neck, “I told you it would get better.”

He chuffed a laugh, “you did, and you were right.” 

A pause passed in their conversation for so long, Sarah wondered if he’d fallen asleep. Just as she was convinced he had, his fingers started a slow, soft journey up her back. 

“It’s never been like this before.” 

Despite the fact that they were the only ones in his apartment, his voice was so quiet, only someone draped over him would hear. 

“Like what?” she whispered.

She was feeling the same way, but wanted to know what he was thinking. 

Like love, he thought, but didn’t dare say out loud. “It’s never been so-” he paused, trying to articulate his feelings, finding there was only one way.

“I never knew why they called it making love until you."

Nuzzling his neck, she murmured, “I know exactly what you mean.” 

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[lawsvalentine]

Safe With Me • Law x reader •

Requested by @nyi72 : Can you write a fanfic with Law comforting a gn reader who just had a ptsd or panic attack out of nowhere?

Cee’s Note: Thank you for this request 🫶🏽 sorry it took long I hope you enjoy it ☺️

CW: mentions of trauma, descriptions of panic attack, fluff, gender not specified, reader and Law are not together but clearly like each other, reader feels like a burden, soft!Law

“Y/N-ya?”

You heard your captain from outside the door yet you remained silent, hoping he would just walk away.

It happened again.

You absolutely hated feeling this way.

The simplest things would trigger these emotions. The sound of raised voices, the loud bangs of objects colliding together, or glass shattering on the pavement and the haunting memories would start flooding your mind. Suddenly you were back at that place in your life before you had joined the heart pirates. The air starts getting denser and suddenly it feels like you’re suffocating.

This wasn’t the first time these overwhelming feelings would hit you out of nowhere but never had it happened in front of your captain.

Law had found you hyperventilating and sobbing in the hallway of the submarine. His medical instincts kicked in and he was quick to be at your side. He was familiar with the signs of panic attacks so he knew exactly what to do.

He instructed you to focus on your breathing. He demonstrated on himself, slowly breathing in and out, encouraging you to follow his breaths.

After a few shaky attempts you were able to slow down your breathing, your heart beat slowing down from its erratic pace. You could faintly make out his sharp features through your tears. Although his expression remained calm, his eyes held so much concern.

When you finally calmed down, your eyes widened in realization at what had just happened and you quickly rose to your feet and ran inside the door behind you which happened to be your bedroom. You locked the door, pressing your back against it, sliding down before burying your head in your arms from embarrassment.

Law was taken aback from your quick movements but stood from his crouched position and knocked on your door, calling your name. You remained at your spot, not budging an inch. After a few more knocks, it was quiet and you assumed he finally walked away.

That was until you heard a “Room” and “Shambles” and the book that was on your nightstand was replaced by your captain.

You were startled by his presence, forgetting about your captain’s teleportation powers.

“Y/N-ya, why did you run away from me?” Law questioned, eyebrows furrowed at you.

You sigh, trying to find the words to explain yourself but when you tried to speak it was as if the words were caught in your throat, unable to escape.

Law took notice of your lack of a response and slowly made his way towards you. He perched down and sat next to you on the cold pavement against the door. You two sat in silence for a moment, both trying to find the right words to say to one another.

“Ya know…you can talk to me”

You glanced next to you to see Law’s head down, hat lowered covering his eyes.

“I know I’m just your captain but….I do care about you Y/N-ya” his words were quiet yet soft.

The sincerity in his tone gave you the courage to finally speak.

“I didn’t want…you to see me like that” you admitted, eyes looking everywhere else but the man beside you.

“Why?”

Because I have a huge crush on you.

Because I don’t want you to think that I’m weak.

Because I don’t want to burden you with my issues.

“I just don’t…okay”, you sighed.

If only he knew

Law raised his head to study your features. Your tear stained cheeks and puffy eyes made his heart ache. He knew that there was something plaguing your heart and he wished he could free you from the pain and sadness you must be feeling.

“I used to get those a lot too….when I was younger”, he admitted.

“I had a lot of fucked up things happen when I was a kid. The attacks eventually stopped but i still get night terrors once in a while about my past.”

Your eyes widened in shock at his confession. Your captain was a very private person, you’ve never heard him express his emotions or talk about his past.

You turned your head to look at him, his golden eyes met yours before shyly looking down again. He never opened up to anyone, not even Bepo.

“Thank you for telling me that”, you gave him a small smile. “I’m here for you too, if you need somebody to talk to”

Law raised his head to loom at you, his features had relaxed and he returned your smile.

“I’m supposed to be the one comforting you Y/N-ya” he joked.

This was a side you’ve never seen from Law but it was refreshing, seeing him smile and be less serious.

You giggled at his comment. “You did though, I guess you can say we’re trauma bonding”

He chuckled a bit at your comment. It was a sound you’ve never heard come from your captain, but filled you with butterflies nonetheless.

“Well, you don’t have to feel scared or alone. You’re safe here…with me” he said, peering down at your hand that was an inch away from his tatted one on the ground.

You followed his gaze and decided to do what he had wanted to do but was too scared to. You closed the space between each other’s hands, looping your pinkie with his. His eyes widened slightly, his cheeks getting pink by the sudden action. Despite his surprised expression, he didn’t move his hand away.

Law’s heart felt like it was beating 100 mph. Such a simple act, has gotten him feeling butterflies in his stomach. You sheepishly look at him, feeling your own cheeks heating up. You looked so adorable to him. He couldn’t help his gaze from going to your lips then back up to meet your eyes, almost silently asking you for permission.

You nodded your head, giving him the okay. Law stared at you for a moment before closing the space between you two, pressing his lips against yours for the first time.

His lips felt soft like a warm pillow and you couldn’t help but to sink into him, kissing him back tentatively. You could feel the tickle of his goatee against your chin, the slight sensation of your shared breaths under your nose.

Law gave you one last peck, before breaking the kiss. You both slowly parted away from each other, eyes blinking open. Law lowered his hat, trying to hide his flushed face. You giggle at his shyness, he was so cute and awkward.

“I..erm…should p-probably check on the crew” Law stuttered, rising to his feet.

You nodded, smiling slightly. “Thank you for helping me with my panic attack and our talk…aaand the kiss”

Law looked down at his feet, “I-erm yeah..uh..thank you too…I mean…no problem”

He hastily left your room and you couldn’t help but giggle to yourself at his flustered behavior. Your usually calm and collected captain was a stuttering mess. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, Law’s words replaying in your head.

“You’re safe here….with me”

[heartkyeom]

perfect timing

chwe hansol x gn!reader

word count: 1.7k

tag list: @weakforsvt @junhui-recs @rasparagus @just-here-to-read-01 @baekhyunstruly @enhacolor @yourfavoritefreakyhan @todorokiskitten

warnings: best friends to lovers, mentions of female anatomy, oral sex

notes: hi remember that valentine's thing I made y'all vote on? yeah this is that! this is two weeks late but ... she's still cute! I hope you enjoy it

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Vernon mumbles.

“You paused the movie,” You smack his chest lightly before turning your head back to face the screen.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” He chuckles and finds the remote on his side of the couch and unpauses it quickly. 

You were both typically able to keep your annual Valentine’s Day movie nights lighthearted, and tonight was no different. You would both choose an iconic romantic comedy to watch with tons of snacks and, as you got older, plenty of alcohol to help you process the absurd plot lines and outdated jokes. 

For years, it helped distract the both of you from the suffocating corniness of the holiday. It originated as a way to forget your high school exes that managed to break both of your hearts right before Valentine’s Day in junior year. 

Now, it serves as a chance to set aside your responsibilities to spend quality time with each other. 

As the movie crawls on, you both get progressively more drunk until you’re only paying attention to each other. 

You’ve somehow sat yourself on his lap, pulled against his chest with his arms wrapped around your middle. 

The sensation of his fingers rubbing against your hand with his breath lightly fanning your neck leaves you far more relaxed than you originally intended. 

“Fuck,” You breathe out, eyes fluttering shut. 

“You ok?” That raspy voice of his doesn’t help at all, sending butterflies straight to the pit of your stomach.

It’s moments like this where you’re certain that you’re in love with your best friend. 

You can avoid confronting those feelings most times when you’re not thinking too hard about it, but when you remember the intimacy that’s worked its way into your relationship over the years, it becomes hard to ignore.

You’ve cuddled with him endless times, but this feels unlike anything you’ve done before. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You shake your head to attempt to force the thought out of your mind. 

“Doesn’t sound like it,” He scoffs. 

“The movie’s almost over, we can talk about it then,” You deflect once again.

“Okay,” You’re grateful that he leaves it alone, focusing his attention back to the screen. You weren’t exactly lying, you knew there were only a few scenes left even in your intoxicated state. 

The final kiss plays on screen and your cheeks burn in embarrassment. You were so close to admitting the truth that it almost left you feeling sick. 

Once the credits roll, he pauses the movie and calls your attention with a gentle hand on your hip. You reluctantly turn around in his grasp and he immediately picks up on your discomfort. 

“It’s okay, love. It’s just me,” His voice lowers to invite you to share. His eyes are so forgiving, that nickname was reserved only for the moments where he needed to be vulnerable with you. 

“I love you,” You say it without thinking. His face remains unchanged.

“I love you too, what’s the matter?” He asks, slightly oblivious to your tone of voice.

“No, Vernon, I love you,” You emphasize quietly, “and I have for a long time.”

“Oh,” He goes quiet. You’re always nervous watching Vernon contemplate his thoughts. He’s always been quite expressive, so seeing him process your statement starts to plant seeds of doubt in your mind.

It’s worse knowing that he’s tipsy as well, but it doesn’t seem to impact his train of thought very much when he locks eyes with you.

“Well, I really love you too,” He offers his hand to you, you grab it without hesitating. He fights a smile, but gives in once he sees your reaction, a mix of surprise and relief that he finds incredibly endearing. 

 “I didn’t think we’d ever get to tell each other that,” He avoids your eye contact with a short smile before looking at you again.

Of course, you’ve both said I love you to each other countless times, knowing that your love for each other has been evolving into something so distinct and fulfilling. It’s often unspeakable, laid out in spontaneous late night road trips, deep talks, holding each other accountable for your individual fuck ups, and countless other events that have kept your heart full.

“Me neither. Sorry it took me so long,” You admit sheepishly. 

“Well, you were brave enough to actually tell me, so don’t worry about it. I was probably just gonna die without saying anything.”

“Vernon, come on,” You try to laugh it off with a playful hit to his chest.

“I’m serious,” He insists, adjusting you on his lap by tightening his grip on your waist ever so slightly. It’s as if your dynamic shifted in an instant.

“I just always figured there would be someone else for you,” He sighs. He wasn’t exactly wrong, seeing as you’ve been in multiple relationships since you’ve first met. Since the last one ended only a few months ago, you’ve finally come to terms with the fact that these people were merely a stand-in to avoid thinking about being with Vernon. 

“That’s fair, but I always wanted you,” You affirm.

“Always?”

“Yes, shockingly, even when you had that weird middle part,” You recall his old hairstyle to his chagrin.

“You’re so mean for bringing that up,” He laughs and traps you in his arms further, pulling you into his chest until you fall on top of him.

“I’m sorry,” You giggle uncontrollably and surrender to his hold, causing him to lay you flat against the couch underneath him. Your mutual tension leaves him hesitant to touch you, but his hands eventually cup your cheeks and it already leaves you flustered. 

Your breath hitches in your throat as he leans closer to your face, finally confronting you with the scene that you’ve dreamt of for ages. 

Vernon is going to kiss you and it’s completely real, the fanning of his breath against your lips brings you back to reality. 

You nudge your chin up slightly and it’s enough for him to close the gap between your lips, pressing against you gently. You can barely register it at first, but the taste of him leaves you breathless. 

You instinctively let him take the lead as he pushes his tongue into your mouth, gladly accepting him with a tilt of your head. He swallows the moans that you let out, absentmindedly moving his hand down until it settles underneath your shirt, resting on your breast. He gently rolls your nipple underneath his finger, forcing your head away from his mouth with a quiet whimper.

“Vernon, don’t tease,” You whine pathetically. He retreats his hand from underneath your shirt and chuckles at you.

“Feeling desperate, love?” He teases you yet again, rubbing your hip with a quiet ease. You can only nod and adjust yourself underneath him, your brain can barely catch up to the desire of your body.

“Let’s take care of that then.”

--

“Fuck, Vernon,” You moan wantonly, eyes falling shut at the sensation of his mouth on your clit. Your energy is steadily waning, but Vernon’s stamina has kept you in the saddle longer than you expected. 

Your escapades had made it to his bedroom, and he wasted no time spreading your legs open to access your dripping cunt. Your first orgasm was explosive, you held his head against your entrance despite how painfully good it felt. 

His tongue doesn’t hold back as it prods your entrance without stopping, giving you no time to pull back.

You can already feel your second orgasm building in your stomach, and you let yourself whine louder than before. 

He raises his head and moves his thumb to your clit, massaging it faster than you could process.  “Come on, baby, you can give me another one,” He mumbles, keeping his eyes focused between your thighs. 

“I’m so close,” You whine with a hint of exhaustion in your voice. Vernon senses the tension in your voice and places two fingers inside you without warning, forcing a guttural moan from the back of your throat.

He knew he had you right where he wanted you, his fingers working you open steadily while his other hand keeps your clit stimulated.

It’s a perfect storm, letting you whine louder and louder until you can’t stay quiet anymore.

“I’m gonna cum, please,” Your voice tapers off into a whine, you can barely focus on anything except the heat pooling between your legs and the sensation of Vernon’s touch against your skin. 

“Cum for me, beautiful,” He encourages you and it’s only a few more moments before you let go completely, cumming hard around his fingers as your back arches slightly off the bed. 

“Shit,” You slowly come to your senses and notice that Vernon is working you through your orgasm, fingers slowing down until you’re twitching underneath him.

You take a few deep breaths with your eyes closed before looking at him again. He seems willing to let you recover as long as possible, rubbing his hand gently on your thigh to slowly revive you.

“You were perfect,” He kisses the spot on your thigh that his hand has been protecting and slowly makes his way toward your face. 

“You think so?” Your brain is still foggy enough that you can only question your surroundings.

“Of course, you’re always perfect,” He seems nonchalant, but the way his fingers gently rub your cheek says otherwise. He’s fully lying next to you now, his head propped up by his hand. 

“Wanted you to fuck me, but I’m tired,” You rub your eyes as if to emphasize it and he helps you sit up, adjusting your pillow to prop your head up.

“We can do that tomorrow morning,” He giggles and presses a kiss to your forehead. 

“Promise?”

“I promise, now let’s get cleaned up, sleepyhead,” He eases you up completely off of the bed and leads you through your nighttime routine.

It’s different now, knowing how often he’s seen you do parts of it, but still knows the entire thing by heart and makes sure you don’t miss a single step. He finds your favorite shirt of his for you to wear to bed, internally knowing that his lingering scent will keep you relaxed. 

By the time you’re out of the bathroom, he’s made sure that you’re both completely sobered up. Once you’ve settled back into bed, you indulge him with some pillow talk that feels more natural than you expected.

Eventually, he lets you cuddle up to him before settling on his back. You’re nearly asleep when you hear him mumble into your ear.

“I love you.” 

You fall asleep knowing for certain that he’s the love of your life, and it’s not a question that the feeling is mutual.

[cantalouupe]

fhfhfghfjs instead of brain there is tummy bulge xiao,,, just fucking him and seeing the bulge of your dick in his stomach <33

this ask . . . whoever you are just know this changed me

nsfw!!! mdni!!! xiao x m!reader

bottom xiao, sub xiao, tummy bulge, size kink, pet names (baby & good boy)

“Are you ready?” You ask Xiao, sprawled out beneath you, as you remove your fingers from inside him. He’s flushed, skin rosy and damp with a sheen of perspiration—his hair is unruly, and strands are sticking to the sweat his forehead. You sweep your other hand across it, moving the hair out of his face to see his expression clearer.  

Once already you’d brought him close the edge, but selfishly stopped before he could go over. He often gets tired after just one orgasm, falling asleep before you even get a chance to properly clean him up, but you crave him so vehemently, so desperately that you keep him from coming until you’ve had your fill. He never seems to mind it, though, staying pliant and moaning hushed and sweet while you play with him. 

It’s a bit of a struggle to get inside him, initially. The heavy amount of prep helps you, but his small frame has a hard time welcoming your cock, always squeezing so tight it borders on painful. You guide yourself to him, his body growing tight as soon as he feels your cock bump against his ass, an unconscious action that you diffuse through gentle touches and words.  

“Just relax, baby.” You see his lips part, as though attempting to shoot back a small “I’m trying” but you find yourself leaning into him before he has the chance, sealing your mouth over his. He reciprocates as easily as ever, kissing you back like he’d been waiting for it and there’s nothing else he’d rather be doing.  

There’s nothing that relaxes him quite like the pressure of your lips against his, and you find that he starts to open up beautifully after getting the chance to kiss you. It’s still suffocating inside, but it’s perfect, and you groan at every inch you’re able to get inside him.  

“That’s it,” you praise, “that’s a good boy.”  

He inhales, a wet, pathetic little breath, hands clutching onto your arms for dear life while you presume your task, pushing yourself deeper, deeper until you can see the little bulge in his stomach from your cock.  

You rub your hand over the bump—always a little mesmerized by how visible it is, how small he is for it to show through—and press down on it the way you know he likes. His body jerks and he makes a noise akin to a sob. It’s the type of noise he’d be embarrassed to hear himself make, one that he would normally try to cover or stifle. Luckily for you, he is at the stage where his awareness is dulled, too drunk on you to notice any sound you pull from him.  

Even better is when you start moving, beginning that intoxicating pull and push that makes Xiao tremble. You hold his waist to prevent him from shifting too much, and fuck him a little harder, a little faster, setting a rhythm that sets him off. He’s never truly loud, always quiet in his whimpers and cries, but he never stays quiet. Being as close as possible offers the best access to these soft noises of pleasure, so you always try to keep your face near his to hear them.  

Each time you thrust in and your cock bulges through his stomach, he makes a hiccupped moan. He can’t look at it, eyes screwed shut while you hammer in and out of him; he can’t look, but you do, feeling a little possessive over him and how pretty he looks, how nicely he takes your cock, how big you are compared to him. You press down over the spot on his stomach again, keeping it there and feeling your cock against your hand while you fill him.

[hearts4hughes]

bonfire confessions | jack hughes

lake house summers au

a/n: I tried writing more descriptively, so please lmk your opinions on this. this is the first writing for my new au, 'lake house summers'. hope you enjoy!!!

tags: @sweetestdesire @hughesluv @huggybearhughesy @michaelrikas @spideyy

as the crackling flames danced and leaped, casting a warm, golden glow on the surrounding darkness, you found yourself nestled comfortably beside your best friend, jack, by the mesmerizing bonfire. the tantalizing scent of burning wood filled the air, intermingling with the faint hints of pine and earth, creating an intoxicating aroma that enveloped both of you.

the comforting crackling and gentle rustling of leaves intertwined with the occasional whispers shared between you, creating a symphony of its own. time seemed to lose its meaning as you basked in the company of each other's presence, your bodies drawing closer, seeking comfort and connection in the soft, flickering light.

although you only arrived at the lake house last week, everything felt different. from jack’s lingering gaze on you, to the passion and love held in his voice, everything felt foreign.

you had always loved jack more than best friends should. every moment spent together became a tapestry of emotions, woven with threads of laughter, support, and an unspoken connection that surpassed mere friendship. however, it was only this summer that you felt the same love radiating off of him. as the days went on, the tension grew thicker and slowly started to suffocate the both of you. conversations between you both carried hidden meanings, disguised beneath layers of playful banter and casual laughter. you danced around the subject of your true feelings, your words laced with double entendres that only you could decipher. if you both wanted each other so badly, why couldn’t you just admit it? fear of rejection and the possibility of losing what you both held dear held you back.

in the quiet moments, as you sat snuggled together next to the warmth of the fire, the air shimmered with unspoken confessions. you turned your head to catch a glimpse of his face when your eyes met his. you exchanged knowing smiles, lips still sealed, yet to explore the uncharted territory of falling in love.

“jack,” you called to him. your voice held uncertainty and anxiety. he hummed a yes in response, looking down to you and giving you his undivided attention. “there’s something i need to tell you.”

curiosity sparkles in his eyes as you speak. still, he stayed silent, not wanting to interrupt your thoughts. your eyes quickly turned away from his and onto the ground. they stayed glued there as if you were forbidden to look away.

“we’ve been friends since i can remember. together, we’ve shared every memorable moment, every secret, and every accomplishment.” you nervously rambled. jack’s silence was the que to continue on, “what i'm trying to say is that over the years, my love for you had grown deeper than just friendship.”

he tensed behind you. he was in shock; however, not in a bad way. he opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. his mouth ran dry. along with his breath, words were stuck at the back of his throat.

your gaze moved from the ground over to jack, observing his sudden tension. every single emotion raced through your body, causing a rollercoaster of both serotonin and sadness. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to put you on the spot. i totally get it if you don’t feel the same. this was so stupid of me to do,” you swallowed harshly, an attempt to stop the tears from brimming in your eyes.

“shit, no that’s not what i- fuck.” he stumbled on his words, unsure of how to respond and comfort you. he removed his hand from its resting place around your waist, to cover the embarrassment on his face. jack wanted to blame the fire for the sudden flush on his cheeks, but he could only blame his love for you. “y/n, i love you. i have for the longest time but i was too scared to admit it because i didn’t want to destroy our relationship.”

a wave of relief washed over you.

instead of responding with words, your lips crashed against his. softly, tentatively, your mouths came together, brushing against each other in a tender exploration. the touch was delicate, like the fluttering of a butterfly's wings, yet carried a weight of emotions that had long been suppressed. the world around you faded into a blur as the intensity of the moment consumed your senses.

time seemed to stand still as the kiss deepened, a gentle exploration evolving into a hunger that defied words. your bodies leaned into each other, seeking affirmation in this newfound intimacy.

and as you parted, breathless, your eyes met once more, reflecting a mix of wonder, excitement, and a newfound understanding. with a shared smile, you both acknowledged what had happened.

jack was the first to speak up, breaking the silence, “would you be my girlfriend?” he had never asked someone that before. it was always the other way around. additionally, he had never been with someone he truly loved and cared for.

“i thought you’d never ask,” you beamed with pride and excitement.

In that moment, a new chapter began, filled with uncertainty but also the potential for something beautiful. together, you ventured on a journey, ready to explore the depths of your connection and discover where your hearts would lead you.

[anarchiii]

The Shadowsinger’s lover-5 —ACOTAR AU

Part five | warnings: angst, ptsd, Rhys being a bit of an ass | Azriel x Rhys!sister

Summary; Rhys’ sister comes home, finally, and the the new members of the inner circle are surprised to learn that she (we are gonna call her ‘Selene’) and Azriel are Mates and have been for over two hundred years.

Note: this is an AU it’s not in the books.

Masterlist / Series Masterlist

Selene’s POV

“You know, you’ll catch a cold if you keep standing out here,” Rhys said, his voice barely audible above the snowstorm whirring around them, it was the middle of winter and it was fucking. Cold.

“Ah, quite the contrary, brother, everyone knows an Illyrian doesn’t catch a cold, we are too strong for such things.” She responded—if she could even count as an Illyrian anymore,—a sad smile on her face, she could almost feel her wings, her lovely midnight black wings shimmering in the moonlight, sometimes she’d forget they were gone. She could still feel their weight. The faint sounds of them moving in the wind, in a different universe she would be flying right now, trying to catch snowflakes on her tongue as she soared through the air, she missed her wings so dearly. The worst part was. That there was no one to blame for it but herself, it was her fault her mother was lying in a six-foot hole in snow-covered ground, Selene’s eyes crinkled as she fought off the tears.

Her brother came up behind her and pulled her to him, his chest against her back while he rested his cheek on her head, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there, that I didn’t make it in time.” He whispered. she felt his tears as they dropped, “it wasn’t your fault, it was mine, don’t beat yourself up about it”

“It wasn’t your fault, it could have happened at any moment, it was a planned attack…you were young, there was nothing you could’ve done,” he said truthfully, looking up at the sky.

“I could have fought them off harder, I could’ve done…something…” tears started falling down her face like rivers, the wind making them ice cold. “You need to let this go.”

She turned to her brother and looked him in the eyes—while Rhysand’s eyes reflected the stars, hers reflected the galaxy, the purple mixed with the richest gold—her mother used to joke that if eyes were worth something she would be the richest female alive—“it’s been four hundred-something years, Sel…”

She pulled away from him, “you don’t know what it was like, Rhys, you didn’t lose your wings, you didn’t see our mother get practically tortured and violated, you didn’t get held down while you watched our mother scream for mercy and relief from the pain they gave her. ” She growled. “You didn’t hear her get insulted and defiled,”

“That’s not what I meant, Selene, and you know it,” he said, “I was merely saying that it has been a long time and it is over now, you need to move on… this isn’t healthy.” He didn’t get it and he never would. she could show him all of it over and over again but he still wouldn’t get it, this was the real reason she hadn’t come back sooner, she hadn’t dared tell her mate that, because she knew he would somehow repeat it—if he meant to or not—

“I can’t—I can’t deal with this right now, I can’t deal with you right now, I need to leave, I need to get out of this city, it’s suffocating me.” Her tears fell faster now. Her eyes turning puffy and her face turning red, any other time she would be embarrassed but red clouded her vision too much to care.

“Sel, wait, I didn’t mean it, please stay!” Rhysand pleaded but it was too late, she stormed back inside and locked the door, giving her a few more minutes before he came for her, she barged into her room. Barely caring that Azriel was at the desk. He jumped out of his chair and tried stopping her but she didn’t care, she needed to get out of this place—even if it was only for a few days, “love. Please. Tell me what’s wrong—tell me what’s happening? Do I need to kill someone?” He asked but she only looked him in the eyes and whispered, “I’m leaving, I can’t deal with this right now, come with me or don’t, I just need to get away from him…I need to get away from this place.”

He wore a worried look but helped her pack before grabbing Truth teller and following her to the terrace where he tucked her into his side and beat his wings until they were high in the sky, he may not agree with her plans for running away but Azriel would be damned if he let her go alone.

The End.

Note: thanks for reading!! I really, really appreciate your support 🫶

-Taglist;

@daycourtofficial

@illyrianbitch

@milswrites

@itsswritten

@azrielslittleslut

@utterlyotterlyx

@thehighladywrites

@flickering-chandelier

[yandere-fics]

Time for a classic: Theanna wants reader to sit on her face, they’re hesitant cause “what if i’m too heavy”. and don’t you dare hover or else she’ll pull you down and keep you there until you can’t get up even if you wanted too

(I feel slightly embarrassed but I hope you enjoy this.)

♡ Theanna Wants Her Darling To Sit On Her Face ♡

♡ As much as Theanna loves seeing you so shy, it's very endearing, she is beginning to get fed up with your reluctance to allow her to feast on you as much as she wishes to. It's well known within high society how much the princess loves to make her darling mewl and moan with her tongue, due to multiple unfortunate incidents where the advisors didn't realize you were in the throne room with her, so why can't you also realize this. Are you too dense to get that she wants to be pressed as close to you as possible? ♡

♡ Theanna can be patient though, she has you here for the next few hours as there's no meeting today so eventually your legs will stop being able to hold themselves up as well. She's very delicate with her prodding, only light kittenish licks to your clit, not giving you what you want since you won't give her what she wants. Any attempts to get the much needed friction will be denied until you decide to plant your cute butt down on her. Once you do start lowering your legs even by a fraction, it will be greatly rewarded, she knew you couldn't stay hovering forever. ♡

♡ However if she finds your trying to resume hovering, she will edge you to the point of insanity. It really is only fair, can't you see how you're torturing her by not riding her face into oblivion. Tsk tsk, it really is somewhat shameless of you to deny the crown princess what is rightfully hers. Perhaps she'll have to teach you a lesson about disobeying her. ♡

Theanna hands have a tight hold on your hips even as you try to escape her merciless attacks. What the fuck was she? Some kind of cat? You would think so with the way her nails dug into your skin at any attempt to quit putting so much pressure on her face. Well at first it was because you wanted to avoid suffocating her but at this point it was beginning to feel like you might suffocate if her assault didn't cease.

"Y-your h-highness nnngh, p-please, I can't nggh, I can't take it any m-more~ ahhhh~!" She only tightened her grip in response to your pleas to stop. She'd already forced you to cum on her tongue five times and showed no signs of stopping until you were completely unable to move your legs at all. Then she'd probably do it again just for good measure.

She loosened her grip momentarily to look up at you. "You should have considered that before you decided to hover, darling. I have to make sure you are properly aware that I can handle the full weight of you on my face so that way this doesn't occur in the future. Now hold still."

[bonezone44]

‘Stages of Grief’

Word Count: 1968

Joel x Reader

image credit

Summary: After a tense interaction with a family member who raised you when you were little, you spiral. Joel talks you through it.

Tags: Reader gender unspecified, angst, grief, familial neglect, childhood emotional/physical abuse

a/n: Read if your family sucks. Read if you like crying. Read if you’re crying-curious. But also keep in mind that I’m a random person on the internet who writes fanfiction. Not a therapist.

++++++

‘It’s not fucking fair,’ you tell yourself. The pain shooting through your body in a way that feels unending. 

How can an emotion feel so much worse than anything else?

How can a thought trigger a full body nuclear meltdown? How can it send you burning and twisting and writhing and regressing into the small child you once were?

Years have passed since you were a little kid, being tugged around and shoved from place to place, trailing behind the adults in your life. All your curiosities being ignored. Your questions going unanswered. Your needs being shoved aside so they could do whatever the hell they thought was so much more important than you. Their child. Their responsibility.

But what about you? What about your needs and desires? What about all the shit that you wanted to do? 

You still remember staring up at the glowing carousel–the colorful, twinkling lights mirroring the stars in the night sky. The beautifully painted horses gliding up and down to a fun, jaunty tune playing loudly from some hidden location within. Your eyes sparkled with majesty and wonder. And you remember how the whole place smelled like popcorn–rich and buttery. The memory always made you hungry when you thought about it.

“I wanna go on that next!” you pointed and shouted with hope and excitement.

You heard an angry scoff. “We’re not going on a fucking kiddie ride.”

“But I wanna go!” you stomped.

They turned around and got in your face. “Well too fucking bad!” They yanked your arm, tugging you through the crowd. Other adults. Other kids. Other people with cotton candy and stuffed animals and new light-up toys and big smiling faces.

You started crying. It felt like your whole world was shattering. “But I wanna go!” You kicked and screamed. You wanted to have fun. You wanted what you wanted.

They shoved you into a corner and got into your face again. This time it was accompanied by their finger and a suffocating cloud of anger. “I don’t give a shit about what you want. Now shut the fuck up and don’t fucking embarrass me.” They whispered fiercely.

“But–”

They slapped you hard across the face. 

It stung. Badly. You felt dizzy.

But it got you quiet.

“Now I’m gonna go down there and hang out with my friends–” they said, pointing down the dim, smelly alley behind the stalls. You saw two men in dirty aprons, sitting on buckets and smoking cigarettes with greasy fingers. “--and you’re gonna shut the fuck up.”

You pouted and sniffled, but had no choice in the matter. They were your adult. You had to go wherever they went. There were no other options.

And now you’re older and wiser, but anytime you’re with them or think about them or meet someone who reminds you of them–it sends you into a spiral. As if they still have their hand wrapped around your arm and you’re still begging them to let you get your way.

“You gotta talk to me, darlin’,” says Joel.

You can’t even see him. You know he’s in the room but your head is a thunderstorm and it’s raining out your eyes. “They do this. They do this every fucking time!” You choke out through sobs. “They can’t be happy for me. They can’t let me have anything!” The last word comes out with a stomp. You clench your fists and dig your nails into your palm. The pain is sharp and you shake your head, burrowing into it. “They never give me anything!” Never give you their attention, their love, their respect. It didn’t matter if you still lived in their house or not–they still saw you as a burden. “It doesn’t matter what I say or-or-or how I say it. They just refuse to fucking hear me!” They wouldn’t even listen when you spoke. “I have tried everything and nothing works.” You wipe your eyes, attempting to compose yourself.

“Then why do you keep tryin?” he asks.

You stare at him dumbly. “‘Cause they’re supposed to! They’re supposed to-to-to–” You break down harder. You can barely say the words in your own mind, but somehow they come out your lips. “They’re supposed to love me!” Your anger recedes, replaced with pain. Pure heart-stinging pain. You rub your chest with your palm. “They’re supposed to love me, Joel.” Your head falls back, your eyes on the ceiling. You can feel the muscles straining in your neck. “But they don’t!” Your mouth is wide and grimacing as you cry. “I can’t even get them to care about me!”

“Then why do you keep tryin?”

“‘Cause they’re supposed to,” you pout. Your brow is tight and you can feel yourself getting a headache. 

“But they don’t.”

Hearing those words from Joel–it knocks a part of you back into place. Like you had spread out into a puddle of tears and he’s scooping you back together. You’re still hurting, though. You’re still crying.

“So why do you keep tryin’?” he asks again. “When you know they don’t care?”

“Because… because I want them to. I want them to care about me. I want them to know me. It’s not fair that-that-that I’m living this whole life without them and they just… they don’t even make an effort.”

“So stop tryin’.” He shrugs. His arms are crossed against his chest. “Stop givin them the effort that they won’t give you.”

“But I have to–”

“No,” Joel says firmly. “No, you don’t.”

“But–” you’re not giving in. You refuse. Your leg is shaking. You wanna beg him. Plead him. “But they’re my family.”

Families are supposed to love each other. Share stories. Call on the weekends. They’re supposed to learn and heal together. They’re supposed to be interested in one another’s dreams and struggles and achievements. They’re supposed to be lifelong companions. And when you’re an adult–they’re supposed to make the effort to heal whatever wrongs occurred during your childhood.

“I can’t just… leave ‘em, you know?” Your lips are trembling as you try to get the words out. “I can’t just give up on them.”

“Yeah–” Joel’s eyes are wide and serious. “Yeah, you can.”

“But–”

“You don’t owe them shit, darlin’,” he says. “It don’t matter if they fuckin’ raised you.” He shrugs. “It don’t matter how much money they spent on you or the time they took outta their shitty little lives to take you to school or soccer practice or to fuckin’ feed you.” He steps closer to you. “If you feel like shit every time you talk to them or try to… reach out–then stop.” He shrugs his shoulders again. “They coulda gifted ya a million fuckin dollars and it still wouldn’t make a difference.” He stares right into your eyes. “You don’t owe them anything.”

Your sobbing has ceased, though your cheeks are still wet. “Then what am I supposed to do?” you ask. What are you supposed to do with this piece of you? This solid chunk of yourself that sits in your gut. What is it supposed to do if it’s not desperate and yearning for your family’s attention and approval and support? 

“Nothin’.”

“...What?” 

“You don’t have to do anything,” he says while shaking his head.

“But…” But that didn’t make sense. You were always doing something. You were always seeking and reaching and tugging and pulling and grasping for them. You were always begging and pleading and crying and aching and needingneedingneeding them. 

“But…” And you could feel yourself releasing–like the odd burst of blood flow you got after unclenching your fists. When you had been holding onto something so tightly for so long that you stopped even feeling your own hand anymore. Didn’t know you had fingers. The only thing you noticed at the end of your arm was a strange sensation.

And when you finally let go, unpeeling your fingers, your joints moved unfamiliarly and uncomfortably. Your muscles trembled and shook–feeling weak. Your fingers were warm and tingly and pulsed. It made you think of a balloon popping–without the sharp sound. It was dull and matted and flat, but also exploding and alive and free.

“I don’t have to do … anything?” you asked. Because how the hell was that possible? Because once again, you were always doing something. Always feeling some sort of way.

“All you gotta do is live your life and do what you wanna do. In whatever way you can.” He shrugs. “If they show up, they show up.” He holds his palm out. “But you don’t owe them anything if they do. Even if they try to tell you that you owe ‘em.” He shakes his head. “You don’t.” He puts his hand on your shoulder. “Nobody asks to be born, darlin’. But that don’t give them permission to treat you like shit for it. And you don’t owe them for doin’ the bare minimum to keep you alive.”

 “So I can just… do whatever I want?” The tears return and you’re not sure why. There’s still pain inside you, stored deep in your muscles. But the twisting ache in your gut isn’t as strong as it was before. You feel lighter. Lighter than you ever have in your whole life, you think.

“You can do whatever you want.” 

You start crying again, in a mix of confusion and hurt and relief. But you’re nodding. You’re agreeing with Joel. God, you can’t imagine what you must look like right now. Probably covered in snot, swollen eyes and lips. You just cried like a little baby and he watched you and talked you through the whole thing. You feel so silly and stupid and–grateful. You feel so grateful for Joel. 

“Thank you,” you say after swallowing back tears. “Thank you for loving me,” you choke out and you reach out to hug him and his big arms wrap all the way around you. 

“Of course, darlin’” he whispers and kisses your head. His hands rub up and down your back as you sway into each other. “Of course.”

Once the tears fully stop, and you can think of your family without immediately falling apart, you sigh and let go of Joel.

His big hands cradle your face and he kisses you on the forehead. “Gonna get you some water,” he says and leaves the room.

You know this won’t be the last time you do this–grieve your family. But it’s a start. It’s a baseline. It’s a feeling you know you can seek out again when the next spiral hits. And then the next spiral. And the next. 

But it will take less time in the future when you know the destination–when you can recognize the end of the journey. And even if Joel isn’t around for those, he was around for this one. The first one and worst one. And he didn’t judge you or silence you or push you away for having your feelings or expressing yourself. He didn’t treat you like a burden or toss you aside for being you and dealing with your shit. 

And he didn’t try to replace your family. He didn’t try to become the new target of your yearning and desire and need for approval. Because he knows he can’t be that for you. He can’t be your new family–your new lifelong companion. Only you can. Only you know your own thoughts and desires and ambitions and dreams. Only you can be there inside your head at every waking moment and every sleepy night. And when that solid chunk inside of your gut starts to spread, grasping like ivy for something outside of you to fix you or approve you–you have to scoop it back in and tell it, “No. I don’t have to do anything. I can do whatever I want.”

+++++++

a/n: I'm currently enjoying my ride on the 'Joel x Reader x Healing' train. Most of my fic titles end with "(18+)" and I was tempted to put "(Fun for All Ages)" on this one 😂

[dykewhoresgetdicks]

He exposes my tits to the open road. I think how anyone could look down and see if it wasn’t so dark. I whimper, glancing towards him. He’s groping me and whispers a low fuck. I know he loves how soft they are. I’m so embarrassed and overwhelmed. I meet his gaze. It’s the same one. I might suffocate. He leans back to pull it out. All I can do is stare for a moment and he grips the back of my neck. There’s a fumble, my stupid dyke hat I wear to pretend I’m grasping to my gold star. It’s tossed aside, I’m pushed down onto it. He lets me get a few strokes in before pushing into my throat. I focus on my breathing. I gag once. He pulls me up a little to pull his balls out and pushes me back down. I know to hold them, even if I’m too stupid to fondle them like a good whore. I don’t know why it turns me on. I’m better this time when he pushes me back down. He groans and I feel his hand groping down my back to my ass. Quickly pushing his way into my panties, fingering around my asshole. I think I whimper, making me gag again. He’s being rough now, using my mouth as he wants. His finger slips inside. It feels good. I feel so good. There’s panic in the corners of my brain from focusing on pleasing him. No teeth, no vomit. I gag again, hard, and he lets me up for a moment of air. I don’t want him to. I push myself back down and he starts again. His finger is pushing deeper into my ass, fucking my tight hole. It feels so fucking good. I gag and he doesn’t let up. Good. I’m breathing through my nose like a good girl. There’s drool. I realize I’m drooling on him. He tells me he’s going to cum. My mind is a haze but I push myself down on him, feel the liquid warmth start to fill my mouth. It’s my job to make him feel even better, so I suck like a good girl, pulling it all down my throat. I clean him one more time, to make sure I’ve done it right and there’s a humiliating pop when I come off of him finally. It’s then I can realize I’ve been sobbing. My face is soaked with tears and my mouth is wet. I make sure to look at him. I look away too quickly to read his expression. My tits are still out. He’s still fully clothed, my tits are out and I’m crying.

🫣

That's so fucking hot. And now you've sent it to me, and I'm posting it so even more Men can get off to you being a little dyke whore. 💕

[suterbuyout2024]

for the fic ask - #11 or #13 for the deweys pls!

hey hey thank you! you get a twofer because i had an idea i couldn't get out of my head :3

11. things you said when you were drunk & 13. things you said at the kitchen table

Connor hates the club. Or — it’s complicated.

Connor hates the whole routine of getting ready, standing in line for an hour because no one knows who the fuck he is around here, and freezing your ass off just to let a billion strangers touch you without any of them really thinking about it. He doesn’t like that it’s sweaty, that it’s loud, that the lights catch his eyes the wrong way sometimes and he’s momentarily blinded, that — a lot of things. There are a lot of reasons for Connor to hate the club.

Chief among them is standing right in front of him looking like he might fall over at any moment.

“We should go home,” Connor shouts, leaning up and speaking into Brandon’s neck to make sure he hears. What he really means is you’re an embarrassment right now, but sue him — he’s got a soft spot.

Brandon’s hands land on his waist, of course. It’s like a hug but worse. Connor’s all sweaty and warm, and Brandon’s hands feel like brands through his damp button-down. Brandon’s messy-drunk, handsy, wobbling a bit. Connor hasn’t been able to make out a thing he’s said for the last ten minutes, mumbled and slurred as his words have been. Connor’s gonna have to hold his hair back while he vomits later, he knows.

Brandon leans down until his head is almost resting on Connor’s shoulder, and for a mortifying moment Connor thinks Brandon’s gonna ralph all over him, but then Brandon says, voice rough from shouting, “I’d take you home.”

Connor goes stock-still. Doesn’t even try to hide it — Brandon’s not gonna remember this tomorrow anyway. For a second, all that’s going through his brain is pure static. Somehow, he manages to laugh. He turns his head just the slightest bit, so he’s talking directly into Brandon’s ear. “B. You’re so fucked up right now.”

“No,” Brandon says. “’M fine.”

“Okay,” Connor says slowly. By now, Brandon has fully draped himself over him, hands migrating to Connor’s lower back, his whole broad, overheated chest pressed to Connor’s. Connor’s like, suffocating. He thinks. “Let’s get outta here, bud. Let’s go home.”

“I’m serious,” Brandon insists, hands tightening, and for a second Connor has this ridiculous idea that Brandon’s gonna slip his fingers beneath Connor’s shirt, hands on skin, slick and sure. Brandon’s mouth grazes Connor’s throat as he speaks. He’s still hiding there. “’F I could, I’d take you home. Right now. ’S fucking stupid, Connor.”

“Um,” says Connor.

“I would,” Brandon says to Connor’s neck.

“Okay,” says Connor. For some reason, he makes direct eye contact with this guy near the door, just for a second, but it sends a bolt of ice straight to the pit of his stomach. “Come on, B. Let’s go.”

---

Brandon’s a shit houseguest. Connor’s known this forever. It somehow always manages to surprise him. He likes to think the best of people, really. Brandon just makes it kind of hard sometimes.

“Why are these made of rubber,” Brandon says through his mouthful of egg. Egg that Connor made him this morning, thank you, after holding his hair back last night and tucking him in with water and Advil and everything. Dickhead.

“Your mom’s made of rubber,” is what comes out of Connor’s mouth. He’ll get him next time.

Brandon gasps. Luckily, he has the wherewithal to swallow first, because at this point, if Brandon started choking on egg, Connor thinks he’d just let him die.

“What,” says Connor. He’s doing the dishes, too. Brandon hasn’t even had the decency to ask if he could help. Whatever.

“I should bring you home sometime,” Brandon says.

Connor freezes. Again. He tries to be subtler about it this time, but Brandon’s not paying attention anyway.

“My mom makes a mean poached egg,” Brandon says. “She could teach you.”

Connor’s voice gives out on him, so he just keeps scrubbing at his pan for a second. The thing is, like. Brandon says all these little things, things like I’d take you home, and dude, we should totally get a place together, and you should meet my mom, Dew. Connor’s never sure which ones he really means. He tries, most of the time, to believe that he doesn’t mean any of them. It’s easier that way. But Connor’s got that stupid soft spot, so.

“I’d like that,” Connor says to the sink. It’s so quiet that at first he doesn’t think Brandon heard. The sound of running water cuts through the kitchen.

“Okay,” Brandon says, then. “Sick. You should come this summer.”

Connor risks a glance back at him. Brandon’s grinning like he just won the lottery. Dumbass. “Sounds good, B.”

[sehodreams]

omggg thank u sm for ur response!! i’d love to know more of ur thoughts on toxic! boyfriend sungchan then when you have a chance because i’m really curious on how you see him like that…!!!! my brain is so rotted for sungchan, riize in general, and esp toxic riize >:)))))))) so i wanna know (when u have time) how he’d be in ur mind <3333

Oh honey, I wanted to add it too but I didn't know if maybe I was putting too much again 😅, but since you ask, here are some thoughts I've had (that might change since things can go differently when I write).

I wrote too much haha

What I understood from what you put was that Sungchan actively tried to make you lose weight, while, in my head, this boy LOVES your size, and he loves you and your body so much he starts to feel ashamed (because he also believes that liking you is somehow wrong).

Of course, he was the one who made your relationship official, but from the start, he was doubting his actions (and desire) a lot, and he'd convince you to keep your relationship lowkey with some x excuse, when, in reality, he just didn't want others to know much about you two together.

So, another thing that keeps happening, is that he only takes you on dates in places he knows he won't cross anyone from his circle, and if you end up going together to some place as a couple he'd be plainly cordial with you, close, but not enough for others to think ''wow, they're really a couple'' (I really liked the part in which you said something about him making you wear tight clothes since its something Pinching!Sungchan would do, but not the toxic!Sungchan I'm thinking about since he doesn't want you getting too much attention because that would attract attention over you two together as a result).

I imagine him making you feel insecure with more things, and perhaps, you wouldn't even notice these actions (because, in the end, you're still going on dates, he's still around you at reunions, and he's really close to you in the privacy of your room, repeating many times how he likes you and almost everything related to you, his precious girlfriend). Still, you'd get hurt with other comments about your body that he makes you believe he says out of worry from the bottom of his heart, but even if he talked a lot, in the end, he's the one buying you sweets, telling you to order food after fucking and staring at you with desire while you change clothes. With those comments, he makes you believe, even if not directly saying it (perhaps in a fight he'd loudly say it), that, in some way, you're the lucky one to be with him.

In bed, however, he's exactly like you said, he's such a giver, and when he feels you start to get weird (like suspicious of something that you can't clearly point is happening) he does everything for you to not think, things you even feel embarrassed about, like grabbing your rolls with force to make you meet his hips, pounding up into you while you're trying to not suffocate him with your chest (which he adores), and constantly eating you out until you're crying and assuring him that you love him too!

[reddie-fangirl24]

“Are you wearing my shirt?” Richie asked when he returned to their chairs sitting by the ocean. Little kids ran around, playing in the sand or splashing in the water. Eddie was trying to duck out of the merriment by hiding under their umbrella.

As if he was surprised to see Richie, Eddie looked almost embarrassed, holding his boyfriend's shirt by the neck or close to his chest as best he could. “Oh, hey, you put sunscreen on pretty fast.”

“Only takes a minute,” Richie said, sitting down next to him.

“Did you do a double coating?”

“Jeez, Eds, I put on sunscreen! What’s the big deal!”

“Are you seriously asking me that? Do I have to share all the stats about how many people get skin cancer or skin-related diseases because of sunburns?”

“Okay, babe, chill! I get it,” Richie put an arm around his shoulder, noting how anxious Eddie was still. “We’re at the beach. It’s time to relax.”

Eddie calmed down some, but not enough. He barely ever went to the beach, in his adult years that is. The night before it took Richie a total of three hours to convince Eddie to spend that Saturday at the beach. Eddie agreed when Richie agreed on two things. One; he wouldn’t push him in the water. And two, Richie would take him to the new train museum in town. Fair enough.

“I’m surprised I’ve never had one of my gigs down here. Do you think if I tried to book one people would come?”

“Anybody would come to see you perform, Rich,” Eddie said to him, glancing over his shoulder when a couple walked by. Earlier, a group of girls recognized Richie and fangirled over him. That didn’t make Eddie too happy. His hand clasped tightly around the collar of his shirt, almost choking himself.

“Hmm, should we start planning one?” Richie asked. 

Eddie was too distracted, fidgeting with the buttons on his shirt. They put their chairs close to the water as far away from people crowding the beach. It was 90 degrees today. Richie never understood how people liked standing or sitting in hot sand. A little breeze came off the ocean.

That’s when an idea hit him. “Hey Eds, listen!”

“To your teeth hitting the sand if you call me that again?”

“Have I ever told you how much your hostility turns me on?” Richie leaned forward on the arm of his chair.

“Oh, fuck off!” Eddie half giggled.

Richie took his hand and stood up. Eddie slowly followed, a bit nervous, but hooked on Richie’s gorgeous eyes. Feeling the smooth skin of his hands made his heart beat like the drums. Taking him close to the edge of the water, Richie stopped close to the small rocks. 

“What are-”

“Sh, listen to this,” Richie instructed, subconsciously pulling his boyfriend a little closer. Not knowing if it was from the sun or the warmth of Richie's body, his heart fluttered. Nobody ever held him close like this. His mother was always so frantic, racing around and covering him with all the blankets she could find in the house, suffocating him. And Myra... let’s just say she wasn’t the definition of a cuddler.

Staying quiet, a small wave rippled in, hitting their ankles. Eddie flinched but he didn’t move away. As the water drifted away, it swept the rocks away with it. The pebbles rattled against one another, like music. That sound made Eddie feel... peaceful. It was rare for him to feel that way.

They listened to it again. This time the rocks made a different rhythm as they pelted against each other. Eddie listened closer to the water, the way its rapids evaporated, running back to its home. Funny, Edde hadn’t noticed that since the days they’d swim in the quarry. Had his anxiety really caused him to avoid swimming - something that he once enjoyed?

“What do you think?” Richie asked softly, something very out of character for him. His hand moved down to hug Eddie’s waist. His entire body relaxed. That was good. Before Pennywise... hurt him, Richie barely touched Eddie let alone stand right next to him - leaving space. Now, he couldn’t keep his hands off him.

“It’s beautiful, Richie,” Eddie answered, leaning his head against Richie’s shoulder. The rest of the people on the beach disappeared. Only he and Richie existed.

“Thought you might. I’ve been waiting to share this with someone.”

“How long have you been coming here?”

“Since I came to L.A. when I was 18.”

“Wow, you’ve been on your own for a long time,” Eddie said to him. When he thought about it, he’d never been on his own. His mother remained glued to him after he graduated high school. When he found out that she had cancer, Eddie was overcome with so much emotion that independency scared him. Now that he thought about it, he tried to spend more time with himself. Eddie spent a lot of time at the gym or running when he was with Myra. 

“Glad I have someone to share it with now,” Richie kissed his forehead. 

Eddie hugged Richie around his waist a little tighter, enjoying the sound of the ocean. “Hey, I have an idea.”

“What’s that?”

Unbuttoning his shirt and stripping out of it revealing the long red scar indent, Eddie stood boldly on the beach. Nobody turned to look at him. “ Let’s go for a swim.”

[bowieandqueen11]

Hii, I just wanted to request J, V, and Y on the NSFW alphabet for Roman. Also congratulations on 8,500 followers! I love your writing so much you deserve all of them and more. I’m also happy you decided to start a career in writing! Thank you <3

That's so sweet of you, and genuinely means so much to me so thank you!! I can't wait to share in this adventure with you! :)

Roman Roy NSFW Alphabet - J, V, Y

(I do not own Succession or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @romeytime. NSFW alphabet credit goes to @evelinamox.)

Warning: As it says on the tin, this is NSFW so 18+ only please!

J = Jack off (Masturbation Headcanon)

We all know Roman Roy is a disgusting little slime puppy, so jacking off happens at quite a regular interval. I wouldn't say daily, but maybe once a week before he met you: mainly so he could feel some semblance of control, being shamed by the people around him to feel in charge of his sexuality, but also as a way to assert dominance over his surroundings and release some pent up rage and annoyance at being caged in at Waystar. When he starts dating you, though, it happens far less often. Sometimes during sexy times, when he still feels unsure and too uncomfortable yet to actually do the do, but more often than not he leaves it for when you're sent off to some diplomatic conference somewhere else. It's the first time he feels actually comfortable doing it, knowing that it's solely because he misses you so much, and he needs to release that pent up adoration in the only way he knows how to release (pardon the pun.)

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

I feel like Romey's little noises during sexy times are so sweet, honestly. At first his mouth would be quite vulgar, asking you 'yeah, do you like that? I bet you fucking do, you little freak.' But then when he starts to drop the pretence that he's some sex crazed, matador maniac, he becomes quite... soft? Quite submissive, quite tender as he squirms and shudders underneath you. The sounds then become like little yelps, little whines that he tries to hide by covering his mouth with yours, but the mewls still vibrate down his tongue and against your teeth. He feels embarrassed whenever he lets the tiny whines out, squeezing his eyes shut and dropping his head back against the pillow until the muscle in his jaw is flexing, almost popping like a pulse of lightning against his face. You immediately dip down and lick your tongue against it, peppering kisses up and down his jawline until he finally relaxes, and allows the whines to come out fast, ferocious, and loud enough to be heard from the next apartment over.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

For Roman, I would say his sex drive isn't the highest? I feel he puts on a lot of bravado: his sexual innuendoes and constant dick picks are all just a big show, because honestly I don't think he even knows himself. I don't think he quite understands who is is, and Logan definitely hasn't allowed him the freedom or, more importantly, the security to try and find himself. He does love you - god, more than anything, but I feel his sex drive has been suffocated over the years, so sex comes only once every couple of months. By goodness, though, if that once a month isn't worth the wait. All the adoration, the uncertainty, the grief, the wonderment - they all come bursting out, Roman feeling safe enough in your presence to just allow himself to be. And he will literally love you to the end of the earth and back for it.