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itneverendshere · 11 hours

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guilty conscience (+18)

chapter vi

pairing: rafe cameron x female!reader

summary: when ward cameron, a renowned business man and millionaire specifically requested your services through an escort agency, you assumed it would be just another job—brief and straightforward. however, your entire world shifted when ward disclosed his true intentions and rafe cameron stumbled into your life. there were rules, and rules were meant to be followed. was money worth breaking someone’s heart?

chapter warning‼️: smut

Your mind is a whirlwind of conflicting emotions as Rafe's lips move against yours. The kiss is full of everything that you've been bottling up. You can feel his desire, his need to prove that what he feels for you is real, despite the tangled web of lies and half-truths between you.

For a moment, you allow yourself to get lost in the sensation, to forget about everything else. It’s just you and him.

Rafe's hands move with a determined tenderness, one sliding up to cradle your jaw, the other pressing into the small of your back, pulling you closer until there's no space left between you. The vigor of his body blurs the lines between right and wrong. His hands are insistent, roaming your figure with a possessiveness that sends shivers down your spine. But as the kiss deepens, reality claws its way back into your mind.

Stop! What the fuck are doing?!

God, you shouldn’t be doing this. You’re going to ruin his life. It’s mind-blowing how everything changed in a matter of weeks. How easily you lost control of the situation. Rafe Cameron is just another target, a customer to please, and yet, here you are.

You know you should push him away, end this before it goes too far, but the heat of his body against yours, the raw need in his touch, makes it almost impossible to think straight.

His lips leave a scorching trail along your collarbone, each kiss searing into your skin, making you arch into him. The hallway is filled with the sound of your ragged breaths and the rapid beating of your heart. You can feel the desperation in the way his fingers dig into your hips, the silent begging in the way his mouth moves against yours as if he's afraid to lose this moment.

This isn't right!

You break the kiss, gasping for breath as you push lightly against his chest, creating some distance between you. Rafe's eyes are dark with desire and confusion as he searches your face, trying to understand why you stopped, lips practically chasing yours.

"Rafe, we shouldn’t," You say, your voice shaky but resolute. But he doesn't give you a chance to continue. His lips trail from your mouth to your jaw, then down your neck, each kiss sending electric jolts through your body, "W-we really shouldn't."

Once he comes back up, you trace the features of his face with your eyes, noticing a few freckles across his nose that you’d never noticed, and how the flecks of blue in his eyes are overshadowed by his dilated pupils right now. His hair is tousled, lips still tingling from all the kissing.

He’s so fucking pretty it hurts.

“We should.”

His hands find their way to your shoulders, and he gently pulls down the fabric, exposing more skin for his lips to explore and your knees feel weak.

“Let me make it up to you,” He murmurs against your skin, "Need you to understand how real this is f'me." His words are punctuated by the heat of his breath, making it harder to think, to push him away.

"You don’t—“ you try to protest, but your voice is a mere whisper, drowned out by the sensations flooding your body. His lips find that sweet spot, the pulse point on your neck, and your resolve crumbles. A soft moan escapes your lips as you clutch at his shoulders, your fingers digging into his shirt, “You don’t have to.”

"Need you to believe me baby,” he breathes against your skin, but his words are a mixture of groans and murmured assurances, "Need you... I need you to believe me. I don’t want her. Only you." Each syllable vibrates against your skin, making your pulse quicken. His urgency mirrors your own as your hands move to his hair, pulling him closer.

You tilt your head back, giving him more access as your defenses falter completely. "Rafe," you whisper, but this time it's not a protest.

It's a surrender.

Sofia fades into the background, her memory dissolving into the night air. All that matters is him, the overwhelming sensation of being wanted, seen, and cherished in a way that drowns out every lingering doubt.

Your hands are everywhere, caressing, claiming, and he responds with an urgency that matches yours. Your fingers thread his blonde hair, tugging, silently begging for more. And he doesn't hesitate, his tongue tracing the outline of your lips, craving entrance, craving all of you.

You can't resist, and the twisted dark side of you is enjoying every second of it.

“Don’t know what the fuck you’re doing to me,” he whispers, huskily against your lips, “No way in hell I’m letting you go.” He growls and something like pleasure skitters down your spine.

You swallow roughly, but there’s a smirk on your lips as you pull your eyes away from his lips to look him in the eye, face seemingly innocent and sweet. “Gonna tie me up to your bed?”

Rafe's breath hitches, before a matching smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. It’s absolutely filthy.

"If that's what it takes to keep you here," he responds, his voice low, “All sprawled out in my bed in nothing but that golf skirt? Yeah.”

Heat floods your cheeks at the thought, but there's a thrill coursing through you at the idea of his possessiveness, his determination to keep you close. "You like the skirt, huh?”

“Why do you think you keep winning, hmm? Can’t fucking concentrate around you.”

There's something undeniably thrilling about the way he looks at you like he wants to devour you whole. You feel your chest tighten as his mouth hovers near yours again, knuckles turning white from gripping his shirt.

You bite your lip, "Is that so? Thought I was a natural.”

Rafe’s thumb moves to your mouth, the pad slowly pulling your bottom lip down. “Oh, trust me baby, you are. Can't get enough of you."

A blush creeps across your cheeks at his words. Fuck, you can’t remember the last time a man made you feel so flushed or even remotely interested to flush at every single compliment coming out of his lips. But it’s all you’ve done since you met Rafe. You can see the satisfaction he feels every time he watches your jaw clench to keep the stupid grin off your face, watching the tinge of pink appear on the apple of your cheeks.

“Promise I’m gonna make it up to ya.”

With a quick intake of breath, you find yourself nodding in agreement, unable to form words. A small voice whispers in the back of your mind, reminding you of the consequences. You feel exposed, in a way that you’ve never felt before. You know this can destroy everything you've worked for, yet it's a risk you're willing to take.

You gasp as Rafe's hands slide down your sides, the thin fabric of your dress does little to shield you from the heat of his palms, his fingers tracing the curve of your hips, then venturing lower.

Rafe watches you, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "God, you’re so fucking beautiful," he murmurs, his voice hoarse.

His hands bunch up the hem of your dress, lifting it slowly, deliberately, as if savoring every moment. You feel the cool air against your thighs, a stark contrast to the heat of his touch. You’re trapped between him and the wall, creating a delicious friction that leaves you breathless. His mouth is on your neck again, kissing and biting, leaving a trail of heat that makes you moan softly. His fingers trail up your inner thigh, teasing, making you squirm with anticipation.

"Who's making you feel this good?" he asks, his voice dripping with jealousy, a reminder of seeing you flirt with JJ earlier.

“Rafe, please,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. The desperation in your tone only spurs him on, his touch growing more insistent.

“You want this?” he asks, his voice a low growl against your skin, his fingers dancing dangerously close to where you need him most.

“Yes,” you breathe, the word a plea, a surrender. “I want you.”

A satisfied smile curls his lips as he finally gives you what you crave. His fingers slip beneath your underwear, finding you already wet and ready for him. He groans softly at the feel of you, his breath hot against your ear.

“You’re so wet for me,” he murmurs, his fingers sliding through your slickness, finding your clit and circling it with agonizing slowness. His fingers are long and skillful, their calloused tips adding an extra layer of sensation as they trace your most sensitive spots. The sensation sends a jolt of pleasure through you, making you gasp and clutch at his shoulders for support.

He teases you like this for a moment, his touch light, drawing out your anticipation until you’re trembling with need. When he finally slips a finger inside you, you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips, your head falling back against the wall.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Rafe breathes, his voice thick with desire. He adds a second finger, his thumb continuing to circle your clit, each movement sending waves of pleasure through you. You rock your hips against his hand, seeking more, needing more.

His fingers curl inside you, finding that sweet spot that makes you see stars. He sets a rhythm, thrusting in and out, his thumb pressing down on your clit with just the right pressure. You bite your lip to stifle a cry, your nails digging into his shoulders as the pleasure builds, coiling tighter and tighter inside you. Rafe watches you, his eyes dark and hungry, taking in every expression, every gasp, every moan.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your temple. “So perfect.”

You can barely form coherent thoughts, let alone words. His tone pushes you closer to the edge, but the release you crave remains just out of reach. The pleasure builds and builds, each wave more intense than the last, but it’s a slow, torturous climb. Rafe’s relentless fingers work their magic, his thumb still circling your clit with just the perfect pressure, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that holy fuck spot over and over again.

“Rafe, fuck” you gasp, your body trembling, "Oh my god."

“You’re close, aren’t you?” he murmurs against your skin, “Can feel you tightening around my fingers.”

You nod, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. “So close,” you whisper, your voice trembling with the effort to hold on, to let the pleasure build to its peak.

“I know, baby,” he murmurs, his voice tender yet firm. There's an intensity in his demand that has your throat rolling “Need to feel you come.”

The pleasure a slow burn that builds and builds, until you’re on the edge, teetering on the brink of release, Rafe’s fingers don’t let up.

You never came from a guy's fingers before, not from a lack of trying either. His hand slides through your loose hair, angling your head so you’re looking at him, “That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, lips brushing over yours, and you're fucked enough to yield right away, "Fuck."

His words are your undoing. With a cry, you shatter around him, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. He doesn’t stop, his fingers moving through your release, drawing out every last wave of pleasure until you’re left trembling and spent, clinging to him for support. As the aftershocks of your orgasm fade, Rafe gently withdraws his fingers, his touch soothing now. He holds you close, his breath warm against your skin as he murmurs soft reassurances, his hands stroking your back, grounding you.

“You okay?” he asks softly, his eyes searching yours, concern mingling with the lingering heat of desire.

You nod, still breathless, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah,” you whisper. “More than okay.”

Just as you're about to kiss him again, the door bursts open and Topper barges in, an exasperated look on his face. He’s so caught up in his scolding he doesn’t notice Rafe dropping the skirt of your dress, his body shielding the movement, “Seriously, you two? The bonfire’s been going for like an hour and you’re still here?”

You exchange a glance with Rafe. His hair is still a mess from all the pulling you did and a giggle escapes your lips as you push him away, straightening your dress. “Okay, we’re coming,” you say, trying to suppress your laughter.

Topper rolls his eyes. “You better be.”

As you step towards the door, Rafe stops you both midway. You’re about to ask him if he forgot something but he beats you to it as he brings his fingers to his lips, licking them clean with a slow, deliberate motion that makes your cheeks flush all over again.

“Just had to taste you one more time,” he whispers, you can hear the satisfaction in the rich timbre of his voice. Motherfucker.

Without thinking, you slap his shoulder playfully. He laughs out loud, a genuine, hearty sound that seems to bubble up from deep inside him. It’s a laugh you’ve only ever heard when he’s around people he genuinely cares about.

“Asshole.”

With one last smirk, Rafe grabs your hand, leading you both out to join the others at the bonfire. Your mind is still reeling from the strength of your orgasm, but as you walk side by side, fingers intertwined you feel stable enough to walk.

You're both enjoying the bonfire for what feels like another hour, soaking in the warmth of the fire and the laughter of his friends. But then, your eyes drift back to Aria and Kelce, their genuine love and affection so palpable it's almost suffocating. It’s not even jealousy you feel for them, it’s more like this deep longing, yearning for a connection like theirs—pure and genuine, with no fake vibes or pretense messing it up. You promised yourself you wouldn't let things go this far—that you wouldn't blur the lines between your role as Rafe's “girlfriend” and the reality of your arrangement with his father.

But it’s hard to keep track of things with Rafe's warmth seeping into your skin and his concern melting away the barriers you've built, it's all too easy to forget the boundaries you've set for yourself. His hands don’t leave your body for the rest of the night, tightly wrapped around your waist, fingers that had been inside just minutes ago, moving aimlessly on your skin, lingering longer every time he found a noticeable beauty mark.

Aria's voice breaks through your reverie, drawing you back to the present. "Pink isn't just a girly color!" she scolds, her eyes sparkling with conviction, body fully turned to Topper as she sits on Kelce’s lap. "It's a symbol of strength, of resilience. It’s literally historical.”

"Pink?" Kelce exclaims, his eyebrows shooting up in mock disbelief. "Come on, baby, you can do better than that. Pink is like the most basic answer ever. I know you like green better.”

Topper chimes in, mischievous as ever, "Yeah, I thought you were all about breaking stereotypes. And here you are, choosing the most stereotypically girly color of them all."

Aria rolls her eyes, “It’s not girly! You fuckers wear it all the time.”

Her retort earns a round of laughter from the group, including you and Rafe, who exchange amused glances. Kelce feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart dramatically.

"Y’know what baby, you’re right. It's not just for princesses and unicorns, and shit.”

Topper nods in agreement, "Yeah, it's for real men too. Real men who aren't afraid to embrace their feminine side."

Rafe can't help but let out a snort, his amusement evident. He leans back against the log you’re all gathered around, a playful glint in his eyes as his arm moves from your waist to your shoulder.

"Real men, huh?" Rafe says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. You sneak a glance at him, and his earnest attention is suddenly making you feel nervous. "Well, I guess that explains why you've got a whole collection of pink shirts in your closet, Top.”

The group erupts into laughter. Topper only rolls his eyes good-naturedly. "It brings out the color in my eyes," he retorts.

“Sure it does.”

Aria shakes her head, a playful grin tugging at her lips. "Okay, enough with you boys.” She wiggles around in her boyfriend’s lap, turning her body in your direction, “What’s your favorite color?”

“Light blue.”

Surprise tingles through you as Rafe confidently voices your favorite color.

How does he know that?

It’s something you hadn't divulged to him before. Your heart quickens its pace, a rush of disbelief mingling with curiosity, causing your pulse to dance beneath your skin. You turn towards him, eyes widening in wonder, as a smile gradually spreads across your lips.

“I never told you my favorite color?” It’s hard to think straight when those eyes are on you, and after a solid minute of just staring at his lips, you move them up, “Did I?”

He sucks a breath in through his teeth, his attention dropping to your lips, “You always wear light blue laces on your tennis shoes."

The realization hits you like a fucking bullet, and suddenly, everything feels more complicated.

Again.

You could do just sex, despite destroying your morals. But this? Oh this was harder. You try to steady your breath, fighting to keep your cool.

Aria glances between you two, her lips curving into a knowing smile. "Someone’s been paying attention."

Rafe’s hand, warm and steady on your shoulder, gives a soft squeeze. "'M just observant," he says casually, but there's a depth in his voice that makes your heart race.

Kelce raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Sure you are, Cameron.”

The fire crackles, casting flickering shadows over the group, and you feel the intensity of Rafe eyes on you, your pulse pounding in your ears. You want to step back, to put up the walls you once thought were necessary. But his warmth, his presence, they’re too tempting, too magnetic to resist.

You force a laugh, trying to ease the sudden tension. "Maybe he's just got a good memory."

Topper chuckles, shaking his head. "Or maybe he just likes staring at you.”

Everyone laughs, and the pressure eases, but Rafe's words stick with you. The conversation shifts, friends chatting and joking, but it's hard to focus. Rafe's hand stays on your shoulder, grounding you. As the night goes on, you lean into his embrace, feeling the lines between your roles and real feelings blur. The fire burns low, casting a warm glow over the group. You know you should be careful, and should keep your boundaries, but right now, you just want to enjoy this.

The sense of being seen and understood feels too good to resist.

Plus, you’re planning on talking to Ward. Call the deal off. That makes all of this better, right?

As the group begins to disperse, Aria and Kelce head off, leaving you and Rafe by the dying fire. Topper lingers for a moment, giving you both a knowing look before he too leaves, not before yelling out a cheeky “wear protection.”

The night is quiet, the stars above twinkling in a dark sky. Rafe's arm around your shoulders feels like both a comfort and a challenge.

You turn to face him, the question you've been holding back finally escaping your lips. "Why do you notice those things about me?"

His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, he seems to consider his words carefully. "Because you matter to me," he says simply, his voice steady and sincere. "I mean it.”

“Okay.”

You let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, things could be different.

"Hey," he says softly, his hand finding yours again. "Stay with me tonight?"

You hesitate for a moment, the messiness of everything between you both pressing down on you. But then you look at him and you can't bring yourself to say no.

"Yeah," you agree quietly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'll stay."

It's strange, sleeping together without the frenzy of lust and passion that had consumed you earlier. But as you curl up beside him, cheek pressed against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek, there's a strange sense of comfort in his arms. Wearing his clothes, you feel a little closer to him, the fabric soft and familiar against your skin. Despite everything, despite the messiness of your situation, you find yourself drifting off to sleep with a sense of peace you haven't felt in a long time.

When the morning light seeps through the curtains, painting the room in a gentle glow, you gradually wake. For a fleeting moment, you're disoriented, the events of last night flooding back as you feel Rafe's warmth beside you.

You attempt to slide out of bed quietly, not wishing to disturb his slumber, but his arm instinctively tightens around you, drawing you back into his embrace.

"Where do you think you're going?" he mumbles sleepily, his voice laced with the remnants of dreams.

You pause, torn between the urge to stay warm and cozy in his embrace and the impulse to slip away before the complexities of the morning set in. However, when you meet his gaze, the vulnerability reflected in his eyes pulls at your heartstrings, and you find yourself unable to resist.

"Just need to grab a glass of water," you fib, offering him a sheepish grin, “I’ll be right back, promise,” you quickly peck his pouty lips, dragging yourself away before you change your mind.

He squints at you, clearly unconvinced, but ultimately relents with a resigned sigh. You slide out of bed, snatching a pair of shots from the floor to drape around yourself as you tiptoe toward the kitchen.

The house is quiet, the only sound is the soft hum of the refrigerator as you fill a glass with water. You take a sip, relishing the coolness as it soothes your dry throat. But as you turn to go back to the bedroom, you freeze at the sight of Ward standing in the doorway.

"Good morning, sweetheart," he says, his tone dripping with sarcasm, “Enjoying your stay?”

You swallow hard, feeling a knot of anxiety forming in the pit of your stomach. You had hoped to avoid him, at least for a little while longer, just a few hours so you could get your act together, maybe prepare a little speech in your head.

"Morning," you mumble, ignoring him all together.

Instead of anger or disappointment, there's a smug satisfaction in his eyes, a knowing glint that catches you off guard.

"You seem pretty pleased with yourself," you remark, unable to hide the flicker of annoyance coloring your tone.

Ward's smirk widens, and he advances, his presence closing the gap between you, his eyes still pinned to yours. "Why wouldn't I be?" he retorts, his voice dripping with arrogance. "I did tell you that everything was fair game to win Rafe's favor."

You bristle at his words, a surge of indignation bubbling up inside you. "And I distinctly remember telling you I refused to stoop to that level," you shoot back, the sharp edge in your voice betraying your frustration. "I refused to use sex as some kind of bargaining chip. I’m not a prostitute, remember?”

“And yet, here we are…” Ward shrugs, his smirk remaining steadfast. "Did you have a change of heart?" he comments casually.

“I didn’t have sex with you son, Ward. I’m not going to. Not for your money.”

“If that helps you sleep better at night.”

You square your shoulders, determined to put an end to this once and for all. "I want to break off our deal," you declare, your words ringing with conviction. "I don't want any part of your schemes involving Rafe. I’m out.”

Ward's smirk fades, replaced by a look of genuine surprise. You would take a picture if the situation wasn’t as serious. "Break off our deal?" he repeats as if he can't quite believe what he's hearing.

For a moment, there's a tense silence between you, your words hanging in the air. Then, Ward lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief.

"You think you can just walk away from this?" he says, his tone tinged with amusement. "You think you have any say in the matter?"

You refuse to be intimidated by his arrogance. "I know I have a say," you retort, your voice steady. "And I'm choosing to walk away. I don’t want your money.”

His gaze brims with such ire that a glimmer of satisfaction ignites within you. "You're making a big mistake, sweetheart," he warns, his voice low and threatening. "You have no idea what you're getting yourself into."

But you stand your ground, refusing to be swayed by his empty threats. "I know exactly what I'm doing.”

“Oh? You do? Because from what I’m hearing, you’ve grown to like my son…Hmmm. So caring for him, aren’t you? Can’t blame you for falling. It’d just be a pity if he found out what you do for a living.”

Your blood runs cold at Ward's insinuation, a chill creeping down your spine. You clench your jaw, refusing to let him see how deeply his words affect you. "You wouldn't dare," you shoot back, your voice trembling with anger and fear.

Ward's smirk returns, a cruel glint in his eyes. "Try me," he taunts, his voice low and menacing. "You think Rafe would still want anything to do with you if he knew the truth? If he knew you were just a little pretty prostitute? Using him for money?“

A startled laugh barks from you as you stare at him in disbelief, “I’m not a fucking prostitute. You hired me.”

“But he doesn’t know that does he? Who do you think he’d believe, huh? You? Or me?” Ward merely chuckles a cold sound that sends a shiver down your spine. "You don't have a choice, sweetheart. You're in too deep now."

“You’re insane.”

Not breaking eye contact, Ward reaches for his phone and places it before him on the kitchen island, jabbing his finger once down atop the technology, “We made a deal. You signed it, it’s right here. You’re a good kid, don’t fucking push it.”

You glance at the phone, its screen illuminating the evidence of your entanglement in Ward's schemes. You want to break it apart, smash it against the nearest wall, but knowing the bastard he probably has at least two more copies somewhere, maybe even printed.

"Dad?”

Relief washes over you, but there's also this tinge of apprehension creeping in. You glance over to find Rafe at the doorway, shirtless, his hair tousled and catching the light in a way that accentuates its natural dark blonde strands.

"Ah, Rafe," Ward greets him smoothly, voice dripping with feigned sincerity, “Arrived earlier from the London trip. Nice to meet your…friend, by the way.”

Rafe's eyes dart back and forth between you and his father, a glint of suspicion coloring his expression. "Everything okay?" he asks, his tone cautious, as if he already senses bullshit.

Ward dismisses his inquiry with a casual wave of his hand, slipping effortlessly back into his polished facade. "Just a little chat, son," he replies smoothly, his voice dripping with insincere charm. "Nothing for you to fret about."

But Rafe's focus remains fixed on you, a silent plea for truth lingering in his gaze. You swallow hard, torn between shielding Rafe from the harsh reality you were both dragged into and the urge to expose his father's shady bullshit. Yet, with Ward's threats looming over you like a dark cloud, you can't risk it, not when it could destroy everything you've fought so hard to keep. You can’t lose your job.

“Well, you kids have fun. I’m off to the office today, enjoy.”

Once he’s out of the room, Rafe rushes to your side, reaching for your hand, “Sorry about him,” his grip tightens, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand. "I'm used to it," he murmurs, a bitter edge to his voice, "But you don’t have to."

“It’s okay,” you assure him, lying through your teeth, “He’s just worried about you.��

“Yeah…Just ignore him, please,” his head leans down, resting atop of yours, “Don’t want him to scare you away.”

You take a deep breath, you want to tell him everything, to reveal the truth about his father's manipulation and your own role in it, but the words stick in your throat, suffocated by fear and uncertainty.

"I'm not going anywhere," you say softly, squeezing his hand reassuringly, "Just got here, remember?”

Rafe's grip tightens, "Good, ‘cause I still got take you on a date.”

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you meet his gaze, seeing the hope and anticipation reflected in his beautiful eyes. "I'd love to," you reply, your voice soft. He has you eating out the palm of his hands, it’s embarassing.

Rafe's smile widens, a spark of excitement lighting up his features. "Great," he says, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm, "How about dinner tonight? Just the two of us."

“Yeah. Just the two of us.”

Rafe's grin widens, and he squeezes your hand affectionately. "It's a date then.”

Maybe there’s still a chance to make things right.

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sovietunion · 2 days

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Maybe I'm the only lesbian who thinks like this but I don't mind political lesbians personally and I think it's a completely understandable way for het women to live their lives. However when the thinkpieces and lesbian theory starts flowing... 💀.

#maybe they just shouldn't impose generalizations on the greater lesbian experience if they aren't attracted to women in that way.#otherwise I think its beautiful to choose to live your life centered and surrounded by other women.#perhaps I'm just ignorant.

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xx-j4nu5-c4t5-xx · 2 days

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"An ideal Sims game would have Sims 2's gameplay mechanics, Sims 3's open world, and Sims 4's graphics!"

I absolutely despise this take, and I want to explain why. This is a very long rant and it is full of piss and vinegar directed at everything in the Sims 4. I'm gonna try to keep everything kinda professional as much as I can but I can't guarantee an unbiased opinion.

If you'll let me talk your ears off for a moment, I'd like to explain, from my own experience as an artist and a casual player, my issues with the art style and direction of The Sims 4 compared to The Sims 2. (I'm not really going to comment on 3 because I've never played it.)

I want to start off by explaining the difference between better graphics and higher resolution. The Sims 4 absolutely blows Sims 2 out of the water when it comes to textures and polygon counts on sims, no contest. But I'd argue that the graphics themselves... aren't better. They're worse, even, so much fucking worse. The biggest problems come from the stylization and the animations, in my opinion, so I'll explain what I mean.

Have you ever felt like the Sims in 4 just look... weird? Not quirky, not kinda strange, but off. Distressing. Uncanny. Whatever the fuck the kids call it nowadays. When you strip away the packs and the CC and the shaders, the sims in the base game look bad. They're very close to being human; they walk like us, talk like us, have families like us, but they don't look like us, not exactly. There's always something off about them, no matter how close you try to get. Proportions will be a bit off, or your eyelashes will be like three polygons for some fucking reason, and the jig is up. The illusion is gone.

This is one of the instances where a higher resolution and more detailed models and meshes work against you. You aren't making believe. You are beyond the point of pretending that the pixelated shapes are real clothes and bodies and faces, because at this point, they're close enough that you don't need to. There's no gap to bridge. But that doesn't necessarily mean that they're lifelike, at least, not enough to be completely human. In some ways, they're still tethered to being cartoony and plasticky and fake. Just enough to frighten you. Enough to put you off. They're not using it to their advantage anymore, and instead, it's holding them back.

When the Sims 2 came out in 2004, the developers knew that they weren't going to make a perfectly accurate life simulator. They physically couldn't render every wrinkle in the face or fold in the clothing. In some animations, things clip strangely or the facial expressions are sort of janky or there's just some form of roughness around the edges. But that's okay; your brain doesn't need a perfectly accurate representation this time. That's not what you're here for, anyway.

The Sims 4 is basically Icarus-ing itself into disaster. The entire game sacrifices style for complete realism, a goal that was unachievable ten years ago, and is unachievable now.

The Sims 2 never thought of itself as a completely realistic life sim, though. It has cartoony, low poly meshes and exaggerated proportions and wild, raunchy storylines that would never occur in real life. BECAUSE IT ISN'T REAL LIFE. And it isn't like real life, not because it's failing to be, but because it doesn't want to be!

The Sims 4 is not ever going to completely replicate human looks or interactions or dynamics. And if it's trying to, it's doing a shit job of it. That shouldn't be the goal in the first place. If I wanted to watch a lonely college student talk to himself in the mirror to try and get better at interacting with people, I'd close the computer and go look at myself. It somehow highlights the most mundane parts of life without any of the whimsy and goofiness that the earlier installments had. It takes itself too fucking seriously for its own good, and it's killing both the gameplay and the art style.

The other point I'd like to bring up is the animation. The Sims 4 allows for much more customization of both sim and environments, but at the cost of dynamic animations. How many times is that grab animation reused? How many times is the same set of animations used for sims with wildly different personalities? Your sims barely feel alive with how little they express themselves.

Now, look, I'm a digital artist. I've dabbled in animation, but only briefly, and only in 2D. I've got no clue how 3D animation works, much less how it worked 20 years ago, but I can see the passion in every single animation in the Sims 2. The more niche interactions allowed for more expressive animations than in 4. They could afford to have a distinct animation for mean sims throwing the football extra hard to be assholes, rather than every sim using the same generic football-throwing animation to save time and money. I get where they're coming from. I get the idea. But in one move, you've both made the art style stiffer and less expressive, and you've made the personalities of the sims seem meaningless. Everyone acts the same, regardless of what their moodlets or their traits say. It's hollow. It's stifled. It's a waste of potential.

But for what Sims 2 lacks in polygons, it makes up for in smaller animated details. Quality over quantity. The sims have hair physics, they open the door before they get in the car, they take utensils out of the counters when they cook, they jump on the couch and the cushions smush under their weight. When they dance, the weight is realistic, and when they smile, it tugs at every one of the few dozen shapes that make up their faces. The sims are lively. They dance and sing and love and hate just like humans, and rather than being some strange attempt at mimicry, it's almost a tribute. They were made with love. You can tell that they were drawn up and rigged and animated by a bunch of people working together, studying each other and making faces in the mirror for reference and watching their kids and neighbors and dogs and hands for reference. The sims are not human, and not trying to be, but they're taking the most human parts of us and making them their own.

You could never have a game with the Sims 4's graphics and the Sims 2's gameplay. The gameplay and graphics are inexorably connected, and the Sims 2 just has so much glorious detail baked into it, that you could never really make it work underneath the limitations of the later games. The developers of 2 knew what their limits were, and they worked tirelessly to make the game as full and complex as they could within those limits. The developers for the Sims 4 just did not have those guidelines, and thus, the drive to bend the rules was no longer there. They didn't go wild in rebellion because they were never told they couldn't in the first place. They spent the entire time chasing a goal they couldn't meet, and lost sight of what made the series fun to begin with.

It wasn't the realism you came for; you had realism already surrounding you. It was the caricature of it that made it interesting.

#sims 2 #sims 4 #rambling #please hear me out here #if I hear this one more time i'll explode #please #the problem is so deeply ingrained that it corrupts all it touches like an oil spill #you cant separate the graphics from the gameplay #please guys #THIS is why the sims 4 feels hollow #IT IS #IN EVERY WAY IT COULD BE #every advancement it claims to make only digs its grave further #GUYS PLEASE #CAN ANYONE HEAR ME #does this count as an essay #it felt like an essay #it's 5am

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fancyfade · 2 days

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Fandom does its best to make me dislike damian and dicks dynamic even tho canonically it's one of my faves... shut up about how dick is obviously much better for damian than his parents and how damian shouldn't speak to Bruce... stop only briefly acknowledging dicks canonical flaws if you only can admit them when saying "he's still much better than Bruce of course"... if dick ever not being the perfect big brother/ father is ever acknowledged in the first place.... say what you like about a character or character dynamic without flattening every other character or dynamic

#fade rants #negativity #idk #dc comics #batfam fandom bad takes #dick grayson #damian wayne

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 3 days

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AITA For Not Budging On A Potentially Unconventional Need?

I (M20+) have BPD and Autism, and when I was younger, they'd both team up to cause me a lot of struggle.

One of the biggest things I used to do was self isolate when I was upset or worried, and just sit around after throwing out some red flags, hoping someone would read my mind and ask me if I was alright.

OBVIOUSLY THAT WASN'T VERY HEALTHY, neither for myself or for others. I definitely think that was an "ESH" time period.

So now that I'm older, in therapy, taking meds, and generally doing better and am a lot happier, I put clear communication as my #1 priority in all of my relationships.

I don't phrase anything in a way that sounds confrontational, I don't tell people what they can or can't do, who they can or can't talk with, don't get jealous too easily, etc. I only ask for honesty, compromise, and mutual respect for boundaries.

I really thought I was doing well for myself by swapping "I won't communicate at all" out for "I need to communicate often"

But one thing that I just can't seem to stop is the paranoia when it comes to people I'm particularly close and very vulnerable with; I'll notice certain changes in their demeanor and worry it's because I've done something wrong, or that they don't like me as much anymore. Sometimes I CAN brush it off and wait it out until I'm inadvertently proven otherwise.

But if it's not going away, and I'm worried it's just getting worse, I need to just ask for their honest thoughts and get it over with. If for some reason they were actually upset, my intention would NOT be to double down or lash out. I just DON'T want to be strung along by a lie, as has happened!

This isn't really that common of an occurrence either. Maybe every few weeks during particularly hard periods.

I don't feel this way about people I'm not very close to, and people who do manage to get very close to me know this about me; I keep no secrets about my mental health and try to be extremely upfront. A lot of people will say at first that they understand, but over time, I'll eventually get that flack and heartache from them, saying that it's just too exhausting for them. At best, I'm kinda teased for it. It's made me feel like I haven't made as much progress in my recovery as I thought I had, which sucks.

It's not me starting arguments or fights, or accusing them of anything. Just me saying "Hey, I've been feeling a little paranoia lately, is everything okay between us? Is there anything we should talk about?" or something like that.

I'm really conflicted about it.

On one hand, I feel like if things are okay, it shouldn't be difficult or tiring to say "Nope, everything's alright, dw!" If you still like me in a certain way, why would it be tiring to just say so? It takes maybe five seconds to type/say. The only way I can see it being tiring is if they were just telling me white lies about how they felt, and had to maintain the act.

On the other hand, I know BPD isn't without its delusions, and that Autism isn't without its "misunderstanding of social norms". I know I'm likely to see things differently from others. I know it's not exactly EASY to love someone like me. Maybe it IS too much of a demand, and I've just convinced myself it's not?

This IS something I'm trying to work through in therapy regardless, but I just worry that it isn't a symptom that will ever fully go away, and instead it needs to be worked with.

Am I the asshole for standing by that, at LEAST for now? Is it fair? Or is that too much of a need for people to reasonably accommodate? Am I just not trying hard enough to be better?

If I ever got particularly close to someone again, would I be an asshole for again insisting that if I need reassurance to dismiss an oncoming spiral, they should be able to meet that need instead of asking that I keep the paranoia to myself and just deal with it on my own? Which may or may not work, or even make things worse.

I know it can make people feel like I don't trust them. That much I do understand! But I've tried telling them that it's not that I don't trust or respect them, I don't trust or respect myself. I dunno if that makes sense to anyone without BPD, though.

This is both a "Was I the asshole?" and a "Would I be the asshole?" ask I guess, lol

#aita #am i the asshole

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r0-boat · 23 hours

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Whb Kings as Monsters

Thank you @aet-tsu and @da-shrimping-station for the inspiration from your cute art and you're writing.

(I wanted to do them as pets but you two already got that covered so now they're monster hybrids just pretend they are your 'pets')

Sfw

Satan

He looked pleased, His smile wide as he drank the water and ate the chicken. Poor thing must have been hungry! Well, you are so glad to feed a hungry mouth. That night, You heard scratching at your window; it was the hybrid from before! How the hell did he get here?! Did he follow you back????

tiger hybrid/Weretiger! You saw this hybrid in the daytime while you were shopping, sitting at side, and the heat. His tail swishing, his shirt was off, trying to keep himself cool. His ears folded back. You walked inside the store, coming out with a bottle of water and some food, bringing it out to What you thought was the cat hybrid. He seemed to worry of you at first, but when he noticed you had food, His eyes widened, looking at the cooked chicken and back at you.

It is now been one month, and the cat still will not leave. He plays idly on your bed, sleeping. You thought he was just a normal hybrid. However, you were greeted by something horrifying the next full moon. This hybrid was not a cat!!! You see that now. You now stare at the giant wear tiger now curled up on the floor of your living room. You thought this thing would kill you, but it has taken quite a liking to you. However, you are still getting used to the random temper tantrums, and your house getting destroyed because of it...

Mammon

Despite being a tiger hybrid. He still acts like a cat. Laying in sunspots, making biscuits with your pillows(destroying them). He even brings you dead things mostly; it's a wild game. You hope to God he doesn't bring in a human corpse one day; your weretiger is just an oversized cat. Well, you don't know why you're surprised.

Satan is practically attached to your hip He goes wherever you go even to the bathroom. And you can't help but smile when your big cat starts to rubbing himself against you purring. When you stop petting him he demands you to keep petting him.

A dragon, an ancient dragon waking from its slumber, its den filled to the brim with riches of the old world. Now here, as he walks among the humans using magic to make him appear human, He sees that this new world's wealth has changed drastically. He hungers for that wealth. However, he must lie low. With that, he comes to you bearing golden gifts, of course.

You are thinking that you haven't woken up yet. It's handsome man a suitcase full of solid gold bars coins and pearls asks to live with you and be yours. This man with a big grin swears that he can protect you. Dream or not, You are very much considering taking the money replacing all that furniture from Satan's rampaging is tiring.

The dragon's eyes widen when he spot it a familiar figure. Your cat boy (tiger) hisses immediately pouncing on the man. Even with the tiger's sharp terrifying clause It did nothing against the dragons almost indestructible golden scales. "I swear my friend you get shorter every time I see you!"the dragon laughs.

With his endless amount of wealth all of you move to a bigger house with a bigger yard. Mammon studies human money and how to acquire it. Mamon bellows in pride when he talks about his riches, and goes on and on about tell excited he is to add more wealth to his collection. And how he could take good care of you, His chosen master.

Since this time living with you, he has been liking you every day more and more, especially how tiny you are. He likes to pick you up and haul you around. Maybe he could even convince you to go flying with him.

Over time, he slowly warms up to you. You notice how he gets possessive over You don't know much about monsters well except for dragons and were tigers. However, you did hear about Naga's being possessive over mates. But that shouldn't be right... How could this monster see you as his mate? He looks like he wants to kill you half the time.

Leviathan

A Naga, You're not sure why or how he's here. He just showed up in your garden. Underneath your wooden deck, He looks hurt. You finally have to lure him out with food.

He glares at you, and when you get close, he snarls, telling you to back away and don't touch him. But at the same time, he's the one who comes to you; he gets close, watching you intently. Even as he kisses and threatens to kill you, You try your hardest to tend to his wounds. Finally convincing him to let you touch and take care of him.

Sometimes he has his whole body wrapped around you, trapping you in this coils, making sure no one else sees you but him. Keeping you like this calms him. Having you so close to him, like this, he feels like you were all his. Your warm human body is addicting to him.

Your other monsters hate him because he's practically claimed your room. Satan and him have brawls for your bed. And, of course, Mammon loves to provoke the Naga.

Beelzebub

Mothman/moth hybrid (hear me out): You heard a knock at your window. You see a handsome man with moth wings and antennae waving to you, giving you a wink, and gesturing at you to open the window. At this point, you are not surprised. Immediately opening the window. The first thing this winged man did was kiss you on the forehead and hug you. Next thing you know, your Levi tackles him to the ground, squeezing the lights out of him. He only stops when you tell him to.

Apparently, they know each other. As your are pissed off, Naga hides in your closet. You asked him how he found this place, And he said confidently, "I smelled you!" Moths find their mates by senses of smell. And he thought you smelled good, so obviously, you are his mate. You are not deterred by the fact that you already have three other monsters lined up for that title.

Beel Only shows up at night, leaving during the day sometimes; he's gone for days at a time. Only to just show up randomly, sometimes with random souvenirs as gifts. He is really good at blending into human society. They're already hybrids walking among the streets, and he does not need to do much.

He will always find you because no matter how bad his memory is he will always remember your scent.

Beel and Mammon, who are eager to learn about humans, Go out together. Beel teaches him all he remembers about humans. Sure, Beel and Mammon are no different parts of human societies, but they get along pretty nicely compared to the other two.

Lucifer

Vampire. He has already lived among the humans for quite some time. How you met him? Well, You haven't been out with people for a while now because of you certain somebody's usually chase them away, whether it be a friend or a date.

This person has already been your friend online and the two of you set up for a little date night. You thought it odd that he didn't order anything else but wine and drinks; however, He was paying for the meal, so you did not think anything of it.

Lucifer had no intentions with you in fact, he found you quite charming. He was not one of those vampires that lure people into their home as their prey; no, He is a doctor. If he needs blood bags, he will get blood bags without harming humans.

You got a little tipsy and he invites you to take you home. Forgetting about your four other things you agree... You're greeted at the door with a dragon with his arms crossed puffing out his chest a snarling yelling cat a hissing snake ready to pounce. And Beelzebub laying on your couch waving at you. Apparently, they know this vampire. Why does this keep happening?

Since you're already friends with his 'acquaintances' He drops the bombshell, which is honestly the most normal thing you've heard all week, that he is a vampire. Well, he is not ready to drink from you just yet (since he sees that as an intimate thing). He does drop by in his back form, which you had fun squealing over, and picking him up and petting him, which he reluctantly allows you to do.

#whb x reader #whb satan #whb lucifer #whb leviathan #whb beelzebub #whb mc #whb mammon #whb #wihib #what in hell is bad #wihib x reader #whb headcanons #what in “hell” is bad?

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neo-percs · 11 hours

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LOVE GALORE:: (lee jeno)

WARNING:: one night stand, fingering, oral (f!receiving), overstimulation, unprotected sex, drinking.

SUMMARY:: in which you sit at a bar drinking when the guy next to you begins to ask you questions about yourself instantly clicking. By midnight he's escorting you to his apartment.

WORD COUNT:: 3.5K

The club was buzzing, everyone gathered under clouds of smoke and dancing as sweat gathered on their skin. The walls and floors were vibrating from the hard base booming through the gigantic speakers propped up on the DJ booth. Ignoring all of the drunk women and men stumbling to the bar asking for bottles and shots with chasers. You play with the straw jammed in between the melting ice at the bottom of your drink and occasionally sipping from it. Being left by your friends in exchange to mingle with whoever they could dig their nails into a bitter feeling swirled in the pit of your stomach.

Your eyes attached themselves to the screen of your phone as you scroll mindlessly as you feel a pair of eyes burn right through your side profile, you choose not to look in case the person happens to be some random or worse. "What kind of drink is that" the person besides you finally speaks making you look up in his direction instantly taken aback. He was fitted into a black button up the sleeves rolled to the elbow, his hair a pale shade of blonde and his sharp features make you blink thinking the alcohol was finally taking its toll.

He was looking at you, he was speaking to you and yet you hadn't uttered a single word back only glancing at the glass with a clear drink and lime wedged onto the rim of the glass. "It's a margarita, I'm not very wide range with my drinks" you shrug as you finally let the words ripple through your throat, speaking loud enough over the music for him to hear you. He nods as he waves down the bartender who was cleaning off cups with a white towel. "What can I get for you?" The man asks his eyes are round and his bright magenta hair makes you eye him more at the interesting choice in hair color.

"Can I get the same margarita as her please?" He asks only getting a firm nod and smile from the worker who's name tag had been blurred out due to the bright flashing lights. "Nice manners" you laugh, he seemed to be in your age range and for him to have manners was almost like being the tallest dwarf. "It's the bare minimum, I don't want him to spit in my drink or anything for being rude" he shrugs which makes you bite back a smile. As a minute of sheer silence between the both of you.

"Why are you here by yourself? Shouldn't you be with friends at a place like this?" He asks, although he doesn't mean for it come off in weird way and you knew that and wouldn't take it as anything less than a sheer question of curiosity. "I am here with friends, but I'm pretty sure their off wondering around trying to get laid by some random girls in the corner over there" you wave off to the back right corner where you assumed Mark and Taeyong had wondered off to without even a second glance. He hums "what about you?" You ask delivering with a curious glance at him as he takes a sip out of his drink.

"I came here with a friend to look out for him on his date but he left to get laid too" he shakes his head with a smile thinking of Jaemin stumbling out with his date on his arm and a warm smile. And as time went on you and Jeno learn each others names, ask each other about hobbies, and what you do for a living. It was almost as if you were on a first date over drinks in one of the weirdest circumstances as to why you're both alone.

But as you continue the both of you grew to have a flirty banter going, and when you finally see people are starting to leave you both not end the night. Walking around the empty streets talking your arms brush against each other, you could feel the ache in your feet as you both walk down one of the still bustling streets when Jeno pitches the idea to walk to his place as it's closer. By the time you had both reached the front doors your stumbling and giggling holding onto each other's hands in case the other falls. Pulling the door open for you, you both walk to the elevator with dopey smiles resting on your lips without even realizing you had yet to let go of his hand.

Your breathing gets heavier as you realize that you were now alone, holding hands with an attractive guy you met at a bar. "You okay?" Jeno mumbles as he looks over at you with concerned eyes "you look like your burning up" he says as his free hand reaches to cup your cheek feeling how warm your face is his eyes flickers to yours not realizing how close he had gotten and how intimate his actions were. You look up at him nodding without a single word closing the gap between you both.

As your lips collide the both of your press into each other eagerly, not breaking until you could hear the elevator door open, both of you pulling away shyly as you meet the gaze of an elderly couple. You both apologize and scurry out of the doors lighting speed. Jeno guides you to his door embarrassed at the last encounter until he opens the front door. The both of you topple inside smiling as you once again latch onto each other. The room is dark yet the feeling of each other is all you need.

The both of you shedding clothes throughout the halls until you make it into his bedroom with nothing but your underwear on. Your both messily kissing each other until your back is pressed against the bedsheets and your head rests against the pillow.

pulling your panties down and sliding them off your ankle he discards them. The view of your pussy practically shining in all its wet glory. Jeno was desperate. To touch, taste and fill you up in so many ways he couldn't even think straight.

His hands unclip your bra watching your breasts spill out of the fabric and padding. Discarding it his hands palm your chest as leans down to lick your sensitive nipples making you let out a small moan.

Nobody had ever made you feel so good just by barely touching. Until Jeno had decided to drag his face down your stomach, littering small kisses on your sweet supple skin until he stopped at the place you needed him most.

Kissing down your inner thigh sucking hickeys into your skin you shiver at the feeling of his warm tongue giving your puffy lips a small lick. Whispering a curse under his breath he licks again this time he is much more confident.

he holds your thighs when the pleasure starts seizing your limbs, as the feeling of his warm tongue licking from your hole to your clit and sucking needly. You moan as your hand reaches for the back of his head pushing him against your pussy.

Groaning against you sent vibrations all over as you let out a small giggle that broke into a moan feeling the harsh pad of his thumb rub against your clit while his tongue worked to push inside you.

The sounds you make are music to his ears. He presses his nose on your clit, inhaling your scent deeply before his tongue dives inside your waiting pussy. You pull onto his hair, writhing against his face. "Feels so good" you moan as you roll your hips against his face.

You could feel his lips curve against your pussy sending shivers down your spine. The wet muscle repetitively enters you, eager to gather your nectar. It feels like heaven, stomach tightening with each second.

Pulling away his thumb Jeno flattens his tongue against you licking from your entrance to your clit again, kissing it he sucks harshly on the bud with no regard as you moan his name mindlessly.

"Oh fuck" you manage to whimper out you tug at his hair as he groaned, your eyes shut as you "please use your fingers" you moan neediness dripping from your tone.

His hand moving from your plush thigh, his thumb rubbing harsh circles on your clit he pulled away licking your clit once more his middle and ring fingers make way to your entrance.

Pushing in slowly you groan at the penetration, easing your tight walls around his thick fingers as he pushes them deeper you feel the cool metal on his rings all the way at the knuckles of his fingers as it grounds you from the euphoric feeling.

Pulling his head he looks up at you with your juices on his swollen lips and on his chin his fingers begin to move opening your eyes. You look down at him feeling his gaze as he watches you react gasping as the feeling you grind down against his fingers "you like that? Hm?" He says as he licks your essence off of his lips.

His hair now disheveled as his cheeks were blooming with a soft blush, you nod eagerly "yeah? You want me to go faster for you?" He coos feeling you clench around him at the sound of his lewd words, you clench harder "yes please" you say losing your mind on his fingers as you absentmindedly grind down on them.

Without a single falter in his movements his fingers began to rub against the gummy part of your walls at a faster rate as the sound of your sopping pussy getting pounded by his fingers made you squeal.

"Oh my god" you cry out hoping to god he wouldn't stop the rewarding pace he had set. Your hips involuntarily buck against his fingers as his assault of pleasure on your pussy consumed you whole.

"I'm close" you whine as the sloshing sound and the sound of you and Jeno's mixed heavy breathing had been the only thing you could hear "yeah, you gonna cum all over my fingers?" He asks teasingly as his tongue licks a long stripe against your clit that had the feeling in the pit of your stomach churning in anticipation for your orgasm.

"Yes, wanna cum just for you" you whine under your breath as he pushes and pulls his fingers in and out of you faster watching you come closer and closer to the edge waiting for him to catch you. He sucks and licks your clit harshly making you let out a loud moan as you cum all over his fingers.

Not stopping his actions he presses his fingers into your thighs pulling you against his face as you try to wiggle away whimpering. The feeling of pleasure had become overwhelming his tongue and fingers making your legs shake around his head as your fingers found the roots of his platinum hair tugging harshly wishing he'd let up. "It's too much" you moan as your thighs tightly wrap around his head. His fingers moving faster earns a loud moan as your back arches off bed sheets.

You could feel another orgasm building up as you hiccup out babbles and pleas from pleasure. The sloppy sounds make your head spin. one of your hands moves to grip the hair on the back of his head and you push his face into yourself even more.

you breathily moaned his name and that made him piston his fingers in and out of you faster and curling them to hit your g-spot your jaw drops as you let out a silent scream as the knot in your stomach is finally released once again yet more intense than the first one.

"So good" he hummed as he fucks you through your high slowing down as he kisses your clit that's now sensitive making you writhed under him. "Doing so good for me" he smiles as he pulls away from you kissing your thighs as if he was rewarding you.

You let out a small huff that turned into a choked moan when his long fingers pulled out of you. With no hesitation he sucked on his fingers licking off any essence and cum you had left on his digits.

Pulling them away he leans in to kiss you letting his tongue brush over yours to taste yourself. Pulling him closer, the kiss becoming more intense and rough, your hand cupping his jaw as the other rests against his naked back you drag your nails against his skin leaving behind red rails of irritation, groaning against your lips Jeno strips out of his remaining clothes. "Do you want to keep going?" He asks sincerity dripping from his tone, you bite your lip nodding as you take this chance as a poor attempt to catch your breath.

"I do, really badly" you huff. Smiling Jeno presses his forehead against yours as his hand falls between his legs he stroked himself before pressing his tip against your clit teasingly he grinds against you moaning at the slick sounds coming from between you both. Your warmth against his shaft has him eager and twitching in his palm yet he's just addicted to the feeling of how warm and wet you feel.

pressing a chaste kiss to his lips and rubbing his tip against your entrance makes his head spin. His hips against yours he watches as your soaked and tight walls envelope him with a choked moan "you feel so good" he says as he presses forehead against yours which makes you giggle. As he pushes into you deeper and slowly you whine your legs without a second thought push his hips into you deeper earning a gasp at your own actions "fuck" you moan at the feeling.

"Such a slut, can't even wait for me to be inside you all the way huh?" He says rhetorically as he begins to thrust into your sharply, your moans are the only thing egging him on to keep going while your hands rest against his shoulders; nails begging to drag against his skin.

Your warm puffs of breath against his face has him in a trance. You smelled of cigarettes and cherries and it was so intoxicating for Jeno who's hands greedily need your hips as he drags them against his. The sound of skin against skin in the air made Jeno's eyes roll back. "So good" you babble as your head falls back against the pillow. Your hair was scattered against the leaning space for Jeno to kiss and mark your neck with purple and red splotches.

"Yeah? I fuck you good right?" He says as he pulls your legs over his shoulders and hits a new spot that makes your jaw slack and mind go blank. "Tell me. Tell me how good I fuck you y/n" he demands making you moan even louder "you fuck me so good Jeno I swear" you whine as your nails drag against his skin leaving behind red trails in their wake.

The bed thumps against the dry wall as your moans cover the sound. The sight of Jeno over top of you with a clench jaw and your legs on his shoulders as you clench around him tighter. The sight of his hair falling over his face as sweat begins to trickle against his skin under the red and blue hues from the window.

"You're so big" you slur seeing how good he filled you up to the brim your arms wrap around his neck your foreheads pressed together as you watch him begin to slowly move. Jeno couldn't get enough of the sight as his cock disappeared inside your Pussy.

His cock buried deep inside you that you moan and dig crescent shaped dents into his skin. set a pace for grinding against his lap. The feeling of your velvety walls tightening around making him choke back a moan.

"Oh- god" you whisper shakily. His hands holding onto your hips guiding a pace, the sound of skin slapping with your small moans could be heard throughout the room.

You looked so good with your chest bouncing and your hair all messy. You looked good with a small sheen of sweat on your skin and your makeup smeared, he was addicted to the sight.

Stopping his hips completely and pulling out you whine at the feeling of emptiness "lay on your stomach" he says his tone low and raspy making you not miss a step as you roll over onto your stomach and propping your knees into the mattress.

Arching your back gives Jeno the perfect sight of your ass. You could feel his palm caressing and needing your skin before giving it repeated harsh slaps that had you quivering. Nothing compared to the beautiful stinging feeling on your skin given by him.

"Want you inside me so bad" you mumbled as your fingers grip the sheets, you were so needy that you were dripping down your thighs and it didn't take much for Jeno to run his tongue over his lips and grab onto your hips pushing his tip against you again letting him bottom out fully.

The sharp grip he had on your hips kept you grounded as he set a steady pace that had you panting and moaning. Hearing yourself made your face heat up, dropping your head into the sheets hoping to muffle the pleasure falling from your lips.

"Don't get all shy on me now" Jeno says as his hand pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail, pulling your head away from the sheets "I wanna hear you. Don't hide from me" he says breathily as his thrusts become more sharp and the sound of him pounding into you was hard not to hear.

"I can't help it. It's too good" you slur your words as you begin to bounce and grind against him to meet his hips. It felt like he was in your stomach and you didn't mind at all, your hands clutching the sheets tighter as he used his other hand to wrap around your throat.

"Aw look at you, all fucked out. What would your boss think about me bending you over in my bed and fucking you like a slut hm?" He asks as his grip around your throat tightens, you couldn't even gather your words as he hits a spot that has you breathing shakily and your moans are even more louder.

"Right here? Does it feel good here?" He asks as he drags his cock against that same spot again and again "yeah, it feels so fucking good Jeno" you moan as your eyes roll back. The feeling of his sweet lips on your skin as you feel like you're in heaven.

Your thighs are practically shaking at the feeling, pleasure practically taking over your body as Jeno pounds you into his mattress without a single care in the world. Pushing your face against sheets while he becomes sloppy and rougher with every passing second you could feel the pressure in the pit of your stomach growing and waiting to be released.

"I can't take it" you moan as you shake your head "I'm gonna cum" you whimper as you feel warm tears slide down your cheeks. "I think you can baby, you wanna cum so bad right? So take what I give you" he orders sweetly in a faux tone. His thrusts are non stop and you can't help but let the pleasure envelope you.

"Oh fuck" you gasp as the feeling of release comes closer "cum on my cock. I know you can" he coos at you while pulling your hips into his harder than before tipping you over the edge as your walls clench around him sporadically earning a guttural moan ripping through Jeno's throat.

"I'm close, where do you want it?" He asks as he continues to fuck into you "inside. Please cum inside me Jeno" you whimper before you feel the pressure in your stomach let loose "I got you, you're okay" he praised as his fingers rubbed down your spine leaving goosebumps up and down your body.

A few more thrusts slow and deep have your toes curling and sending Jeno into an orgasm struck daze. "Fuck you feel so good" he groans as his hands rub against the red warm skin of your ass. Leaning of you and kissing up your spine as you both bask in your pre orgasm clarity.

Pulling out you turn over and lay on your back Jeno following suit on the other side of the bed still wracking his brain he lazily turns to look at you "please tell me you'll stay the night" he whispers and it makes your heart soar in your chest "I'll stay however long you want" you mumbled as you move closer towards him basking in his warmth.

©neopercs

#𖦹—( neo percs )#nct smut #nct dream smut #jeno x reader #jeno smut #jeno imagines #jeno hard hours #jeno hard thoughts

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softinkshadows · 22 hours

Text

Overworking

Disclaimer: explicit sex

Fem! reader x Nanami Kento

----

Ding! You press the doorbell to room 703, grumbling under your breath. It's already day 3 of the tech conference and your ankles feel almost bruised from all the walking in heels. You can already feel your body straining against a week of consecutive 3 hours of sleep, in between lunchtime meetings, speeches, networking sessions and too many cups of coffee (and occasionally champagne). You glance briefly at your watch. 11pm. To make matters worse, there's a mid-event assessment report due by noon tomorrow. And your colleague still has not answered the door, leaving you to muck pathetically about the expensive carpet and ostentatious perfume of the hotel corridor.

"Hey!!" you rap on the door, impatient. "We haven't got all day-"

The door swings open abruptly.

You're a little taken aback at the suddenness, but also at the newfound proximity. Your colleague was dressed in a laidback t shirt and sweatpants, a white towel draped casually across shoulder.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, I was in the shower. Let's get to the report," he said, turning back towards the room and motioning for you to enter.

You kick off your heels near the doorway, shutting the door with a click. Maybe it's the fact that it has been long day, or the fact that you've never seen your colleague outside of his perfectly pressed beige suit and slacks. But you feel disoriented, and nervous, as if you stumbled upon a scene you shouldn't have. When did Nanami Kento, of all people, actually look kind of attractive?

You spread out the printed documents on the coffee table and pull up the slides and excel sheets on your laptop. Your eyes can't help but slide, every now and then, over to the man seated next to you on the couch.

Nanami had always gotten on your nerves. If it was not an early promotion, then it was a compliment from Director Yamazaki, or a client lunch only he was invited to. You'd both graduated from ivy leagues with top grades, started at JJK Corp at the same time, and yet it always seemed he was just a step ahead of you. And while he was competent, there was just something about it that seemed quite unfair. It made you bitter and him stoic, filling your working relationships with barbed back-and-forths. Somehow it was Nanami that always knew how to rile you up the most.

You watch as a glistening drop of water falls from his damp hair, darkening a spot on his grey shirt. You could feel the slight warmth of his body, radiating from his proximity. Also, he smelt good.

"Uhm okay," you clear your throat to redirect your focus. "So about the report, it seems like we have pretty good sentiment around the CTO's remarks."

"Yes, and I think with this it will be good to introduce some, uh, some new messaging around our core product," Nanami said. It was only when he stuttered slightly that you realised his face was very lightly flushed. Was he drunk?

He caught you looking quizzically before quipping quietly. "Yeah sorry, I was dragged for some drinks with clients after the dinner."

"Oh, with Director Yamazaki?"

"Yeah."

You fight the feeling of frustration wanting to claw its way out of your chest.

"Well anyway, I don't think that's the right call. The downsides around the technology is too sensitive to broach now, it'll invite unnecessary criticism," you shot back a little too fast, irked from exhaustion as well as to compensate from how oddly riled up you are. "We should just stick to what the CTO discussed, and double down from there."

"You don't like me, do you?" Nanami said, his teeth lightly clenched.

There was a rather long silent pause.

You met his gaze and tried hard not to squirm under its intensity. There was something in his eyes which showed annoyance, provoking, yet somehow tinged with a little remorse, as if he regretted what he just said. It was only now that you realise he was in fact very drunk.

Angry, haughty, stoic, bratty Nanami you could deal with. But drunk Nanami? It was a whole new animal.

"Er I..." you trail off in growing discomfort, at a loss of what to say. Your eyes subconsciously dipping to his neck, still streaked with a little water from his shower, and the broad curve of his shoulders. Somehow the sight made your mouth dry, stomach knotting in a newfound intimacy. You look back up and see his brown eyes still on you, piercing. Immediately, you flush up to your cheeks.

"I-I mean, the report.." you begin to say, stammering. Flailing. Saying anything possible to distract him from this embarrassing moment.

"Screw the report," Nanami breathes. Then he pulls you into him, his hand cupping your chin. Your lips almost touching

Then he pauses, observing your reaction, waiting for permission. His cheeks are pinker now, and the tips of his ears are lightly flushed. You feel your heartbeat in your ears, the tension in your chest about to burst. He always knew how to rile you up.

"Ugh, screw you," you moaned as you gave in, leaning in to smash your lips against his.

With a new hunger, Nanami grabbed your waist and pulled your legs around his, pressing your body hard against him as he sloppy kissed his way into your mouth, his fingers stroking up and down the length of your thigh. You moaned at the feeling, the taste of alcohol on his tongue egging you on. You felt even more giddy at how unrestrained he was, how strong his arms were around you. Before you knew it, you could feel yourself growing wet between your legs, desperate for friction.

As if on cue, his nimble fingers found its way to your waistband, unbuckling your pants, and pulling them down around you. You're too caught up with his tongue stroking the inside of your heated mouth, of both your spit trickling down the side of your lips to feel self conscious. He moves his hand up your your blouse, stroking your spine lightly before removing your top as well.

Nanami pauses for a moment, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His brown eyes burning with lust.

Your bra straps have fallen off your shoulders, your hair messy and tousled, lips wet and legs parted. Your lace underwear has a spot darkening with slick. He's never seen you like this.

"Oh fuck," Nanami breathes, pulling you to straddle him such that your back is to him. He nibbles on your neck, fingers dancing a trail from your collarbone, to your breasts, where he plays with your hardened nipple through your lace bra. His hands travel down to your underwear, where he massages your clit lightly from the outside.

"Stop teasing, Nanami, ah-" you cry out, your body quivering with want.

You're on edge, spreading your legs wide as possible and arching back into him to just feel anything. Wanting to push yourself into his touch.

Nanami relents. He pushes aside the fabric and strokes his digits lightly along your drenched folds. "You're wet," he chuckled, before inserting one thick finger into your cunt and biting lightly on your neck at the same time.

The sensation is enough to make you gasp out loud in pleasure, as you spread your legs wider to, thrusting up into his palm.

"Shhhh.. you really have to be a little more patient," he whispered into your ear, before adding a second finger to stretch you out.

Your eyes widen at the feeling, moaning as his large fingers already fill you.

"Did you know I've always wanted to have you like his, quivering over me with my fingers inside you?" Nanami lulled, adding his third finger into your quivering pussy. Already, from the sound of them thrusting in and out of you, you're obscenely wet, and he hasn't even taken off his clothes.

"But not, you had to be a little minx. Always all about work, and the competition," Nanami emphasised the last word while reaching his thumb up to press against your swollen nub.

"Ahhh fuck me, Nanami, please, I need to.." you gasp in between heavy breaths, on the verge of falling off the edge of pleasure. His fingers going in and out of you fast, squelching and hitting your g spot with every movement, your juices dripping down your thighs and onto the couch. At that moment, he speeds up, his fingers drilling into you relentlessly and his thumb massaging your clit in circles. His other hand clasps lightly around your neck as he whispers into your ear, "Come for me, sweetheart."

"Ahhh Nanami, fuck-" You moan as you come undone, hitting your climax. Your mind goes blank as you convulse around his hand, feeling your juices coating his palm. Thighs shaking, you arch into his kiss and frenziedly rub your ass against his crotch to ride out the high, gasping for air as fingers continue to pummel in and out of you.

When you come down, he pulls his fingers out, stringy with all your fluids. He licks them off with his tongue before pulling you in for another kiss.

"I would have liked to do this in the bedroom first, but I don't think I can wait," Nanami murmured darkly. He lifts you easily and turns you around, so that you're facing him, legs spread out on either side of him and ready.

He unclasps your bra and throws it unceremoniously to the side, out of sight. "Oh god, you're beautiful," he whispers, trailing his fingers around your nipples before his bites onto one of them hard. You moan, grasping his hair with your fingers and finding your legs unconsciously spreading wider. You can feel him hot and hard beneath the sweatpants, and suddenly this animalistic hunger overtakes you and you absolutely need to be completely filled up by him.

You almost tear off his shirt, licking and biting your way down his neck, while your hands fiddle with his sweats to set him free. His cock is already huge and hard against his abs, throbbing with a little precum at the tip.

"Nanami I need you in me, now, please" you beg, pawing at his chest, messily kissing around his mouth. Nanami chuckles into the kiss, before lifting you and slowly lowering you onto his cock.

You wince slightly at his girth and how big he is. He's barely past the tip and you can feel him stretching you so much it stings. But you're already so wet and needy that your juices are coating him, making it easier for his cock to bury itself into you.

"Such a good girl," Nanami murmurs, stroking your hair as he lowers you all the way up to the hilt, you body trembling to accommodate his size. You feel so indecently splayed out in front of him, nipples wet and sore from being bitten, sweat speckling across your body and his entire cock sheathed inside you, that you felt yourself getting wetter despite the stinging stretch. You begin to grind against him, feeling his whole length stroke your insides, hitting the spot deep inside you.

"Oh! Nanami! Fuck, you feel so good," you cry out at the pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Something about Nanami, about the way he gazes at you with such feral hunger, the way his fingers are pinching your nipples and holding the small of your waist, ignites a new thirst in you.

Without warning, you feel a new escalating pleasure build in your stomach as you hit another climax, moaning and rolling your hips around his cock, hearing your pussy squelch around his length, which continues to throb and brush against your g spot.

"Oh fuck," Nanami groans, "You're needy for my cock? What a little slut." He starts to bounce you up and down his length, coating the base to the tip of his cock with your cum before slamming you down again. You cry out at the rough and new sensation, pleasure starting to build again as the room fills with the sound of wet skin against wet skin.

He reaches around to slap your ass, hard and unforgiving. It's certain to leave a mark and you love it, crying out and moaning and egging him on, begging for him to go faster and harder.

"Nanami- oh fuck - feels so good!" you moan as he picks up his pace, thrusting into you, your nipples sliding against his now-sweaty chest, your clit rubbing against his torso and getting even wetter by the second.

"You're such a desperate minx, have you been waiting for me to ruin you all this time?" Nanami grunts between heavy breaths. You can feel the strain, the vein in his forehead that shows how desperate he also feels, rutting into you like his life depends on it.

"Fuck - yes!" You cried out, tears beginning to roll down your cheeks from the intensity, as you feel yourself completely emptied, then gaped wide and filled so entirely, as Nanami's cock goes in and out of you. You breath catching in your throat, you feel the knot of tension in your stomach growing larger, wider, your limbs beginning to quiver with pleasure and pain.

"Nanami, I'm going to-" you're unable to finish your sentence, as Nanami quickens his pace, pinching your nipples hard and using his hands to spread your ass cheeks even wider so he can bury his cock even deeper. His throbbing length hits the wall of your cervix rhythmically. HIs tongue laps around your nipples and your neck and earlobes, all the sensations tipping you over the edge as you come, loud and hard, moaning and whimpering against him. Your pussy clenching and convulsing around him unbearably tight, juices dripping across his thighs and onto the couch. His fingers around your ass also drenched, pushing and prodding against your hole, making you eyes blow out in pleasure as you ride out your longest ever orgasm.

The erotic sight and sensation sends Nanami over the edge as he thrusts wildly inside you and ruts into you one more time, shooting hot, thick ropes of cum inside you. "Fuck.." Nanami moans, emptying out and holding your waist so he coats all of your walls. You curse at the feeling, moaning so good against him as your orgasm doubles, driven by lust and the depravity of his want. Your slick now mixed with white cum seeps out from you, coating his balls, trickling sticky down to the sofa.

You've never felt this good in a long time.

Nanami pulls you in to him, breathing hard.

"I don't hate you," you finally said, your face flushes, legs trembling from the high.

"Seems like you don't," he laughed, reaching to give you a kiss on the cheek. He eyes settle on open door to the bedroom, before looking back at you.

"Ready for round two?"

#jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento x reader #nanami smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami kento #nanami x reader

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starringthesturniolos · 1 day

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baby it's cold outside - chris sturniolo

summary: you are forced to share the air mattress with your long time enemy, chris, on a camping trip.

"Since you two wanted to argue the whole way up, you guys get to share a tent together. Yay!!", Matt says while jumping up and down in fake excitement.

On the way to the camp site, Chris and I did argue a lot. But in my defense, the idiot kept pushing my buttons! He kept turning my least favorite songs on and blasting them at full volume so I couldn't sleep. When we stopped at 7/11 he grabbed the last of my favorite drink and gulped it down in front of me. When we finally arrived, he dumped all my heavy bags on the ground and laughed at me struggling to pick them up. It was like he was asking to get yelled at, or like he wanted me to be mad at him.

"No, Matt please!" I grab onto his arm desperately. "I'm sorry but please don't make me stay with him!"

Matt rolls his eyes at me and folds his arms over his chest. "Would you rather sleep outside then?" I scoff and shoot a glare towards Chris who isn't standing too far behind Matt. "Yeah, sounds about right."

"Sleep outside then. That's fine by me, princess." Chris sneers responding to my comment while turning his back on me to set up his tent. I take three deep breathes and close my eyes. I am not going to let this idiot keep getting under my skin. I stomp away from Matt and Chris over to the log Nick was sitting on and he laughs at me.

"Well hello, Mrs. Grumpy"

"Oh shut up" you sigh.

I plop my bag down on the floor, my chest heaving from hauling ass. I had to carry my heavy bags all the way from where Chris dropped them earlier today to the tent. He was laying all comfortable in his set up of blankets and the sight alone pissed me off.

"Thought you were sleeping outside tonight. Is it because you're scared of the animals, princess?" he sneers out the nickname like I'm more of an ogre than a princess. Why is he always so fucking annoying.

"Leave me alone, and I leave you alone. I'm going to bed. I'm tired and I'm not here for the bullshit." I say as I reach into my bag for my sleeping bag. My sleeping bag. Holy shit.

"Shit, shit, shit" you dump out your bag and see no sleeping bag in sight. Its cold out and the thought of sleeping without any covering made a shiver crawl down your spine.

"What is it now??" Chris sits up and turns the flashlight on in an exasperated manner. You sigh deeply. "It's nothing, go to bed Chris." He shrugs and lies down again, turning his back to me. I didn't need to give him another reason to tease me tonight. I flop on the ground on the opposite side of the tent from him and curl up into a ball. I can feel myself shivering but I try to ignore it.

Thinking back on when I first met the triplets in 3rd grade, I remember how cute I thought Chris was. I met Nick and Matt on the bus ride home from school one day when Chris was sick. The next day, me, Matt, and Nick were playing tag at recess when Chris walked out with a doctors note in hand. He walked over to his brothers and my heart skipped a beat. Immediately, Nick and Matt went to introduce me. "Chris! This is-" before Nick could even finish his sentence, Chris was already talking. "Well, isn't she a looker" he chuckles sarcastically while looking down at me, clearly judging me. I also looked down at my two loose braids and hand me down clothes and sigh. "Am I really that ugly" I thought to myself. I knew I probably shouldn't have let a boy that I hardly knew opinion get to me, but the tears came nonetheless." I wanted him to like me" you thought to yourself, wallowing in self pity. I was cut out of my trance when Chris started to laugh sporadically. "What? What is it?" I mutter looking at Chris and then too Matt and Nick who look embarrassed by their brothers rude antics. "Nothing, nothing. Its just... You're even uglier when you cry!" he starts laughing even harder. I felt myself start to shake from embarrassment and anger. Who did he think he was. "Your mean!" I stomped my foot which only made him laugh harder. I couldn't take anymore harassment in one day, and turned on my heel and ran away with Nick and Matt right on my heels.

After all these years he still hasn't changed. "Y/N, HELLO!!" Chris yells bringing me back to the present. "What?".

"Where the fuck is your sleeping bag?" he asks. I sit up from where I was laying to face him. He was now laying down with his body faced in my direction.

"Oh my God, clearly not here or I'd be using it, dumbass." I roll my eyes and go to lay back down.

"Lose the attitude and come stay in the bed with me" he mutters before I can return to my balled up position. My mouth flys open. Since when did he care if I was cold or not. "Wait, what?" I say in shock.

"Get the fuck up and come here. Nick and Matt will punch me in the throat if you catch a cold." he says nonchalantly as if it's normal for people that hate each other to share a bed. I roll my eyes again. I'm not sharing a bed with an asshole, even if it causes me to freeze to death. "No thanks" I scoff, preparing to lay back down again.

He sighs exasperated and moves from his comfortable position in his blankets. He stands up and starts walking towards me. I feel my throat start to tense up. "What are you doing?" fear creeping into my tone. Once he reaches me, he grips underneath my thighs with one hand and tries to support my back with the other. Desperately, I try to wiggle out of his grasp but too no avail. I am in his arms in no time. It takes everything in me to not sink into his warm chest. I didn't realize how cold I was until this exact moment. Suddenly I start to panic again when he starts to walk because I have no idea where he's taking me. Then I think of the worst. "Are you seriously gonna throw me out the tent. Come on Chris, do you really hate me that much??"

He stops moving entirely and he looks down at me. God the way he looks looking down at me is enough to be in any girls dream. Too bad he's just a big dickhead. "You weren't listening to me. So now I'm forcing you to stay with me on the air mattress." he pauses before continuing, almost like he doesn't want to say what he's going to say next. He sighs and continues on, "You were shivering really bad while you were in La La land. I didn't want you too freeze anymore." He had a glimmer of concern in eyes when he said it and that's all it takes for me to believe him. I hate the way my cheeks warm up from the honest confession. It meant he cared, and it shouldn't matter to me but it does.

He starts to walk again, seeing I had no response and plops me down on the mattress. He flops down right beside me, and even though it's warmer with the blankets, it's not enough. Another shiver racks through me. "Y/n??" Chris doesn't even try to hide the concern in his voice. "Do you need me closer? Will that help?" he looks at me waiting for my call. The thought of Chris getting close to me is enough to make my head spin. And as much as I wish being in Chris' arms would repeal me, it doesn't. Instead I feel my heart skip a beat like they did all those years ago. Get it together Y/n.

"Yes" I whisper. Chris doesn't need to be told twice and he pulls me impossibly close to his body. He grabs my thigh and puts it around his waist and then pulls my head into his chest. All I can sense is him. Instead of it annoying me, I lean into his scent and his warmth. In my heart I know that even if it was the hottest night of all time, I'd still enjoy being wrapped in him like this. And I hated myself for it. I melt into his arms and feel myself getting lulled to sleep. Just as I'm about to fall asleep I feel his lips graze my hair. " I could never hate you, angel, not in a million years. I'm sorry". And with those words, I fall asleep in his arms.

Send in request, I could always use some more inspo

Love, Mya

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic

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poppy-metal · 11 hours

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thinking of married artashi and you and patrick being together and its after the challenges tournament and you all become a kind of friend group - maybe one that's too close - maybe one of you (definitely tashi or patrick) comes up with the idea to.... swap partners for the night. theres a tense kind of chemistry between tashi and patrick, shared heated looks, and you'd be jealous if you weren't busy trying not to ogle art, how his chest looks in those tight fitted shirts, makes your mouth dry. patricks caught you checking him out more than once.

maybe its reckless and messy or maybe its perfect and the messiness of it is what makes it the perfect idea. i mean, why wouldn't art want to fuck you? your patricks girlfriend, surely he has the desire to touch what isn't his. he always has. and if you're worried about patrick and tashi falling in love, you shouldn't be. because tashi wants you too - and patrick is too addicted to how you feel wrapped around him to ever let you go.

it takes some convincing, but it isn't long before you find yourself in a hotel room with art on top of you - another womans ring on his finger, a woman who is somewhere off fucking your boyfriend, arts wife - and you feel so nervous but excited and he asks, "can i touch you?" and you say, "art you can do whatever you want with me. just please kiss me."

and its so exhilarating, this new person to explore - so different from his wife. someone who wants him to lead, who looks up at him with pleading eyes, who shakes when he skates his fingers down their body, who whimpers and moans his name and begs for his touch. he thought he'd be eaten up with jealousy, too busy thinking about what patrick was doing to tashi to focus on you and feel good, but he hasn't thought of either of them once - its just you and him and its so, so good. when he spreads your legs and puts his mouth on you - his wedding band digging into your hip where he's gripping you - you think only briefly of patrick, before arts tongue swipes through your wet slit and you cease thinking about anything at all.

#poppy speaks #all of artricks issues can be fixed by art fucking patricks new gf think about it #challengers smut

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buwheal · 3 days

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uh.

So youre going to have to choose.. You can explore further, and figure out more, or you can not address it and move on. Depending on how you word things, which shouldn't be hard in this case, you'd be able to get some information out of him. Or you can leave it aside and figure that out later or smth. Ive done the specific ask i wanted to do with his mood, so now its up to you. Im aware that its split like this because i think the more bait curious people are more vocal, but because also, you're contributing to what gets chosen by /not/ saying anything. I /usually/ choose the outcome based on the majority of each type, and then i choose the overall one that'll work the best, but your asks still get taken into consideration when deciding, good or not. Your asks typically are still important to the route taken.

#[you've got mail!]#i dont think ill need a whole day for the poll so ill take the outcome when i think its pretty much over ig

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arcane-apathy · 1 day

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Chapter 11

Prologue | Previous | Next

AN: Firstly I'd like to apologize for teasing y'all in April. However family and my mental health always come first. Turns out that planning a funeral, attending said funeral, and grieving one of the most influential people in your life sucks. Again thank you all for your patience and support. And I hope you'll enjoy it! 🌻

Warning(s): Self Mutilation, Blood Ritual

The morning came too quickly. For once you weren’t the first awake, as Kurakh shook your shoulder. “Come on Odmili, it's morning.” You groan in protest but still sit up, knowing well enough you asked for it. The fire was barely lit, meaning Kurakh mustn't have been awake long. As if he read your mind, “I still have the sand in my eyes.”

“Would you like me to tend to the fire?”

“If you feel so inclined,” he yawns while slowly standing up. You follow behind him, quickly slipping on your boots to protect your feet from the cold stone floor. Fabric rustles behind you as you feed a new log to the fire. The flames were now high and illuminating the small room well. You quickly glance over your shoulder to make sure Kurakh was decent enough for you to tolerate. With a sigh of relief, you turn around. "I don't know how you can function in this cold."

"Years of training," you chuckle while pulling your stay over your shoulders. You didn't even bother to look while you re-laced the front, muscle memory taking over. "Besides, this isn't the worst of it. Wait until the snow is above your knees."

"Only when you say things like that, I regret coming north," he sighs and slips on a furred vest over his tunic.

“I doubt that is true,” eyes rolling at his antics.

“I speak this truth. I have yet to lose a warrior, Moltschab’s horde is too scared to travel this far north, I have gained allies… And I met you.”

You pause in the middle of tying the final knot, fighting to ignore the fluttering of your heart, "that is the most saccharine thing I've ever heard you say." Surprisingly you were met with silence, making you pivot on your heel. Kurakh's confusion was written all over his face. Again the fact that the two of you come from completely different worlds dawned on you. "Saccharine means something is very sweet," you explain while stepping into your habit.

"Oh, I couldn't tell if it was good or bad," he chuckles a little and stands. Retrieving his cloak from a hook on the wall. "If Mazna asks, please tell him I'm out hunting."

"Of course, he should still be asleep, right?"

"Yes, and hopefully for a few more hours. For Roldza's sake."

"Indeed, bless that woman," you smile and begin to re-lace the habit. "Should I assume it shouldn't take long, considering our numbers have grown?" Your smile quickly disappears as a knot forms in the laces.

"Correct," he smirks and approaches you. He gently moves your hair aside, breath fanning across your neck. "You said our numbers."

"Yes, and," you counter while a blush starts to make its way up your neck.

"You're no longer considering yourself an outsider," he carefully takes the laces and undoes the knot. His fingers gently graze along your back as he finishes lacing the habit for you. "That is good."

"Oh... And you don't have to do this for me. I can lace this thing in my sleep."

"I know," his voice didn't give room to argue.

"Then why are you insisting on doing it?"

"Why must you be suspicious of everything I do?"

"Well, we didn't start on the right foot."

"Fair point," he lightly tugs on the laces to signal he's finished. "Would you like me to tuck the laces?" You only nod, trying not to tense up as he tucks the laces into the habit. Kurakh's hand finds its way to your hair and moves it back to how it normally lays. "There. Save for that blasted headcover you look like a proper Maid of Eia."

It felt like you could finally breathe as you stepped away from him, "I'm also missing the pin... But that's the last of my worries right now."

"I'll be fine."

You smack him in the chest playfully, "and what made you so sure I was talking about you? I'm more concerned about Schelura cutting my hair!"

"Right," he smirks, "don't worry, you'll be in good hands. Schelura's family has been hairdressing for generations."

"I thought she was a beadmaster?"

"Most beadmasters are also hairdressers. The work goes hand-in-hand." He hovers in the middle of the room, contemplation written all over his face. "I suppose I should go to the main hall."

"I believe so, Otoschlibt. I'll be right behind you, I just need to fix my stockings." He nods and slowly walks to the door. Taking a deep breath before he opens it, bracing for the cold air of the hallway. "The faster you do it the sooner it'll be over with," you tease. With a quiet laugh, he opens the door and enters the hallway. You watch as he goes, kindly closing the door behind him so you can have more time to savor the warmth.

It didn't take long for you to deem yourself fully dressed. With your cloak fastened you step into the hall. The cool air hitting your face, properly waking you up. The halls were lowly lit with glimmerstone, and eerily silent. As you stepped into the main hall it almost felt like a different world. Warriors bustle about as they prepare. The sound of blades on whetstones surrounded you as you made your way to the center of the room. Kurakh and the commanders surround a table covered by a makeshift map.

Eteos seemed to be the mastermind of the attack, effortlessly explaining as he pointed to the map. No one seemed to pay attention as you sidled up to Kurakh. “We will attack from all sides. Dogar and I will lead the larger group attacking from the south. Kalos will lead the western group and Aren will lead the eastern. Kurah and Galta will lead the northern group to capture the lieutenant and the maid.”

I lean in closer to Kurakh, trying to keep quiet, “the maid I understand, but the Lieutenant? Have you gone mad?”

“We need leverage, and Eteos says the winter will work in our favor by slowing rescue efforts.”

“It could also lead to our slaughter.”

“The council has already voted,” the finality of his tone kept your mouth shut. You could see a hint of doubt in his eye as he refocused. His fingers tapped on the table absentmindedly. Usually, Kurakh was able to keep still, but within the last week, you’ve caught him fidgeting more than usual. Hopefully, it was only his secret project he was worried about.

“Alright everyone, ready your weapons. We must leave before dawn,” Eteos calls to the crowd. Kurakh gently moves you away from the table as he also leaves.

“I'm unsure what we should do for the new Maid, should she stay with us?”

“I don't see why not, but it depends on who she is. It's usually the newly ordained Maids that get drafted.”

“Except you?”

“There might be some marks on my record.”

Kurakh laughs, “So I'm not the only one who's dealt with your attitude?”

“The Elders didn't appreciate the fire in my eyes like you have,” you scoff as you follow him outside. The wargs were already lined up waiting for their riders. Sukkori wags her tail at the sight of you and Kurakh. “With all seriousness, please try to be gentle with this Maid. She is likely not even twenty years old.”

“I'll make sure of it,” Kurakh mounts Sukkori swiftly. “I’ll task Galta with her care. She’s the gentlest option.”

“Gentle is not a word I would use to describe Galta, but it is the better option.”

Galta scoffs from a few steps away, “I heard that!” Even with the lack of sunlight, you could make out the warpaint on both of their faces. The dark red paint dripped from their foreheads and onto their cheeks. While the design was simple it got the point across.

“You’re lucky we don’t have any more to say Galta,” Kurakh laughs before returning his attention to you. “We’ll be careful.” The rest of the warriors make their way towards the gate around the two of you. “I must go.”

You grab his hand, causing Kurakh's breath to catch in his throat, “come back in one piece.”

He brings the back of your hand to his lips, “I promise.” He gently squeezes your hand before joining the group as they speed past the gate. Save for the guard closing the gate you stood alone in the yard. And you stood there until you could no longer hear the centaur’s hooves hitting the frosty ground. Once you made yourself go back inside you began to mentally scold yourself over your lovesick antics. With your mind so distracted you didn’t notice someone walk into the main hall behind you as you set up your triage.

“Didn’t want to go back to sleep I see,” a soft voice startles you from your work. When you looked up there was an Elven woman merely a foot away. Of course, you didn’t hear her coming.

“There was no point, I would’ve just laid awake with worry.”

“I’m the same way when my brother goes out on those missions. I’m Artenna,” she extends her hand. You first noticed the delicate and glowing tattoos that littered her pale hands. It was difficult to pull your eyes away from the faint pink light as you shook her hand. “Sorry, I probably should have given you a warning.”

“You’re a hypnotist?”

“Yes, I promise I’m not as scary as the King makes us sound.”

“It’s not that, I’ve never met a hypnotist before. It’s a niche field of magic, even before the decree.”

Artenna shrugs, “it depends on where you are. My mother also said it used to be more common when she was a child. Can I help you with anything?”

You glance around to see if there is anything left to do, “not at the moment. I already sped through everything I could do. Unless you wouldn't mind keeping me company until they return?”

“It would be my pleasure,” she smiles and sits on a bench across from you. Thankfully Artenna proved to be pleasant company as you exchanged stories, jokes, and camp gossip. After some time passes you both venture outside. The sun was finally over the horizon, signaling for you to continue preparations, and for the rest of the camp to rise. Artenna helps you break the ice and carry water from the well. The luxury will only last a few more weeks until the ice is too thick to break. Then the camp will have to rely on melting snow.

With the last bucket you were willing to carry in hand, the sound of hooves began to echo through the valley. It was urging you to hurry back into the main hall. Setting the bucket beside your tools, hoping no one else will try to use it. As much as you didn’t want to be scolded by Schelura, you quickly shove your hair into your linen cap. Infections are always worse to treat in the winter.

You didn’t know what you expected when the warriors returned, but it wasn’t the Lieutenant being carried in by Kurakh. “What happened?” Kurakh quickly sets him on a table before you.

“He poisoned himself, and we don’t know what he used,” Kurakh grumbles. Galta quickly approaches beside you, with a vaguely familiar shadow cloaked in blue. “Their Maid also doesn’t know what he could’ve taken. The officers are cowar-”

“It’s new, all high-ranking officers are supposed to take it if they get captured,” a meager voice interrupts.

“What is your name,” you glance at her as you roll up your sleeves. Her fair skin was red from the wind and her deep blue eyes were wide in shock.

“Yulla.”

“Cut off his armor and enough of his shirt so I can access his neck,” you reach for your satchel with determination. “Kurakh we’re going to need charcoal, and more wood added to the main fire.” He thankfully didn’t question you and made haste. It didn’t take you long to find your most treasured tools. A tiny iridescent blade that was easily the size of your hand, and almost as thin as your fingers. And a cast iron press of Eia’s true sigil. You carefully set it on the table before searching for other ingredients and bandages.

Yulla sees it and immediately stops in her tracks, “is that a Kisarvuhevstabler?”

“Yes, is he ready,” you didn’t even look up as Kurakh returned with a small bowl of charcoal. Muscle memory takes over as you begin to mix your ingredients in a brass bowl decorated with ancient runes. Before Kurakh gets comfy you push the cast iron press towards him, “this goes in the fire. Long handle facing out obviously.”

Before Kurakh could take it, Yulla attempted to smack his hand away, “Elder, are you insane?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Blood magic is forbidden!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “it’s only been forbidden for the past six years. While Maids of Eia have used this magic for centuries. I’m not throwing centuries of tradition down the drain, simply because our King gets nauseous at the thought of it. Now you are going to watch and learn a technique that can no longer be taught in the temples, or Commander Galta can find you something else to do. He doesn't have much time left.” Yulla doesn’t respond or leave, conflict written all over her face. You spare a glance at Galta who looked as equally concerned as Yulla. “Galta we’re going to need a bucket that we’re not afraid to get dirty.”

When Galta steps away from the table, Yanna takes the opportunity to stand beside you. You place the bowl on the table, “the potion is made with crushed unicorn horn, charcoal, and stinging nettle. I’ll tell you the exact amounts later.” With a deep breath, you pick up the blade and remove it from its sheath. “It doesn't have to be a Kisarvuhevstabler for the spell to work. They are more a sign of status, to show you know the magic.”

You take a second to examine the disheveled Lieutenant laid before you. His skin was paling, a mysterious gray forming around the mouth. And his veins looked as if his blood turned black. His breathing was ragged, but strong enough to tell he was alive. It appeared as if he wasn’t able to finish the full dose of the poison considering he survived the journey from the battlefield. By now a crowd has formed around the table, and you try your best to ignore them. The sound of an empty bucket hitting the floor signaled it was time to begin.

With the iridescent blade in your right hand, you turn to Yulla, “I will need you to turn him towards me when I give him the potion. But first, the bucket should be closer to where he will vomit when he is turned.”

“Understood,” she quickly moves the bucket before getting into position. You take a second to scan the crowd, surprisingly unable to find Kurakh anywhere. With a deep breath, you move the blade closer to your left wrist.

The blade pierces your skin, immediately stinging. In the ancient tongue, you pray, “Noble Eia, hear my prayer as I spill my blood as a testament of my conviction to thy doctrine.” As you drag the blade up your arm diagonally, blood pools atop your skin. As soon as the first drop hits the bowl the runes carved inside begin to glow. “Hear my prayer so I may rid this soul's vessel of poison. Hear my prayer so I may heal in thy name.” The pain finally catches up to you, causing the blade to fall on the table.

You steady yourself by leaning on the table, “hear my prayer so this blood is not wasted.” You force yourself to push through the pain, picking up the blade and using it to stir your blood and the ingredients together. The room was silent around you, and every eye was focused on you. You gently lift the bowl to the Lieutenant’s lips, coaxing him to swallow the potion. Once the bowl was empty Yulla tilted him towards you. Luckily for him, it didn’t take long for the potion to work.

The visible darkness in his veins crept up his chest and into his neck as the spell expelled the poison from his body. It was almost like tiny black snakes were writhing in his veins. At this point, you knew he would be saved, and now it was time to save yourself. Weakly you raise your left arm, keeping your wound above your heart, and turn towards the main firepit. The crowd quickly parts for you as you step away from the table. No one said a word to you, mostly staring at you in disbelief. With the silence, it was easy to hear the Lieutenant retch the poison into the bucket.

It was a struggle to move your body through the pain and blood loss. But you've done this before. As you neared the fire it felt like the world around you was spinning. Within the blink of an eye, you were on the floor. Crawling instead of walking to the fire. Many voices were shouting your name. But nothing could shake you from this trance. And none of them could save you from this, there was only one with that power. And you couldn’t help but mutter apologies in the ancient tongue, hoping for a sliver of mercy.

The world around you was slipping away, and all you could see was the hot iron in the coals. It felt like someone was kneeling beside you, trying to talk to you but there wasn’t much time to listen. You grab the handle of the hot iron, determined to prove yourself. With no hesitation, you laid the flat end decorated with sigils and runes onto your wound. The scream that escaped you would be considered unholy by some, but to the clergy, it was one of obedience and understanding. The pain was blinding, no matter how many times you've done it. Perhaps that was the point. The iron was lifted from your arm, most likely not by you. And despite how much you fought it, the void consumed you.

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