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isak-dot-gov · 1 month ago

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Bubblegum Pink

Pairing: Rhea Ripley x Girly girl!Reader

Word count: 1137

My Matherlist :)

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You and Rhea had always been an odd pairing, but one that worked. Her brooding, gothic style was the complete opposite of your sunny, feminine aesthetic, but it never caused any problems between the two of you. In fact, you both liked the contrast. She loved how unapologetically girly you were, while you found her dark and edgy vibe pretty hot.

But now, with the release of the new Barbie movie, your worlds were about to collide in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

It all started when you saw the trailer. You’d grown up with Barbie, and seeing your childhood icon brought to life on the big screen filled you with pure joy. Naturally, you couldn’t wait to see it. Even more so, you couldn’t wait to share the experience with Rhea.

One night over dinner, as you twirled your fork through your salad, you casually brought it up. “So, the Barbie movie comes out this weekend. Want to come with me?”

Rhea, who had been chewing on a piece of steak, glanced up at you with raised eyebrows. “Barbie?” she repeated, her tone filled with playful disbelief.

You nodded eagerly, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Yeah! It’s going to be so much fun. I was thinking we could, like, dress up a little for it? You know, something pink and Barbie-like. What do you think?”

Rhea leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms with a smirk. “Pink and Barbie-like, huh?” Her dark lipstick accentuated her teasing smile. “Babe, I don’t really do… pink. Or Barbie.”

You felt a pang of disappointment in your chest, but you didn’t let it show. You knew Rhea was right—dressing up in something so opposite of her usual style was a big ask. “I know, I know,” you laughed, trying to brush it off. “It’s okay, I was just being silly. You don’t have to. We can just go as ourselves.”

But deep down, you’d been hoping she might at least entertain the idea. Not because you wanted her to change, but because it would’ve been fun to share this experience together, dressing up and embracing the moment.

The rest of the week passed without much mention of the movie. You noticed Rhea hadn’t brought it up again, and you didn’t want to press her about it either. You told yourself it didn’t matter—after all, what was important was that she was coming with you, not what she wore. Still, a tiny part of you couldn’t shake the wish that she might try, just a little, to embrace your world the way you always embraced hers.

The day of the movie finally arrived, and you woke up early, excited to get ready. You’d been planning your outfit for days—a dreamy, pink flowy dress with cute accessories, glittery heels, and even a sparkly headband to tie it all together. As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you smiled at your reflection, feeling like you’d just stepped out of a Barbie dreamhouse.

But when you turned around to check your phone, your stomach twisted a little. Rhea hadn’t said anything yet, and you weren’t sure if she was going to dress up at all. Maybe you had been silly to even hope she would.

You tried not to let it get to you as you waited for her in the living room, adjusting your purse strap and fidgeting with your phone. When you finally heard her footsteps, you stood up, ready to go, but bracing yourself for her usual all-black attire.

As expected, Rhea came in wearing her typical style—black jeans, a black band tee, and combat boots. Her dark eyeliner and signature smirk were firmly in place. But something caught your eye, and you blinked, not sure if you were seeing things.

Pink socks.

They were subtle, barely peeking out from the tops of her boots, but they were there. Bright, unmistakable, bubblegum pink socks. You stared for a second, processing the sight, and then your heart swelled.

Rhea shifted on her feet, her smirk faltering just a little as she noticed your reaction. “Don’t say anything,” she grumbled, glancing away with a slight blush rising in her cheeks. “It’s just socks.”

You were speechless for a moment, but then a wide, beaming smile spread across your face. “Rhea…” you whispered, your voice soft with affection. “You didn’t have to do that.”

She shrugged, still trying to play it off. “I know, but I figured, you know, it’s important to you. And they’re just socks. Not like I’m wearing a pink dress or anything.”

Your chest tightened with emotion. It wasn’t about the socks—it was about the gesture. Rhea had seen how much this movie and dressing up meant to you, and while she didn’t go all out, she’d made an effort. She’d stepped out of her comfort zone for you, even if in a small way, and that meant everything.

You rushed forward and threw your arms around her, squeezing her tight. “Thank you,” you murmured against her chest, your eyes stinging with happy tears. “This means more than you know.”

Rhea wrapped her arms around you, chuckling softly as she pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re lucky I love you,” she teased, though her voice was warm and tender.

You pulled back slightly, looking up at her with a playful grin. “I know I am.” You glanced down at her boots again, eyeing the pink socks with a twinkle in your eye. “And for the record, pink looks good on you.”

Rhea rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of amusement in her expression. “Don’t get used to it, alright?”

“Too late,” you teased back, leaning up to press a kiss to her cheek.

With her arm around your waist, the two of you headed out the door. As you walked hand in hand to the car, you couldn’t help but feel like this day was going to be even more special than you’d imagined. Rhea might not be covered head-to-toe in pink, but she’d met you halfway. She’d made the effort, and that was more than enough to make your heart burst with love.

As you drove to the theatre, Rhea glanced over at you, taking in how happy and radiant you looked. “Alright, so what’s this movie actually about? Are we gonna sit through two hours of Barbie just being… Barbie?”

You giggled. “Oh, you’ll see. There’s a lot more to Barbie than you think.”

Rhea smirked, giving your hand a squeeze as she rested her arm over the console. “As long as I get to see you happy, I’ll sit through whatever you want, babe.”

And just like that, with her pink socks slightly hidden under her boots, you knew you had the best girlfriend in the world by your side.

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#the judgement day #wwe #rhea ripley x reader #mami rhea #rhea ripley

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gilbertscurls · 2 months ago

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Heyy can you do a matt x reader one where reader is filming a car video with the triplets and they told people to send in questions for her some one put” give me a chance y/n I’ll treat youill treat way better than Matt” replies with “hit me up yk my insta” Matt gets mad for rest of the video and when they arrive at their shared home with the trips they make up and cuddle

hope you like it!! <3

Hit Me Up ➵ Matt Sturniolo

The car was filled with its usual lively energy, the kind of banter that made the Sturniolo Triplets’ videos so entertaining. You were sitting in the backseat, right next to Nick, with Chris and Matt in the front. The camera propped up in the front caught everyone’s reactions, as usual. Today was special, though. They had asked their fans to send in questions for you.

As someone who had appeared on their channel here and there over the years, people were always curious about you—how you fit in with the triplets and, more specifically, about your relationship with Matt. Today’s video was meant to be light and fun, a chance for you to answer some of the silly and random questions their followers had sent in.

The laughter came easily as Chris read the first few questions, and you answered, giving playful responses while Nick threw in his sarcastic commentary. Everything was going fine, until Chris’s voice trailed off as he read one of the questions that had come in.

“Oh, okay, we’ve got a spicy one,” he said, holding back a laugh as his eyes darted from the screen to you and Matt. “‘Give me a chance, Y/N, I’ll treat you way better than Matt.’”

Your stomach dropped, and for a split second, the air in the car felt heavier. You could feel Matt tense in the front seat, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly. The joking atmosphere shifted.

Instead of brushing it off, you felt a mischievous grin tug at your lips. You looked straight into the camera and, with a playful tone, replied, “Hit me up, you know my Insta.”

You could hear Nick and Chris laugh at your response, but Matt… Matt didn’t say anything. His jaw clenched ever so slightly, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. You could feel his mood darken from where you sat, and the lighthearted energy in the car shifted awkwardly as the conversation moved on.

The rest of the video felt different. Whenever someone tried to involve Matt in the conversation, he gave short, clipped answers, his usually playful tone replaced with something colder. You glanced at him through the rearview mirror a few times, but he avoided your gaze, his eyes glued to the road or the questions on his phone.

It wasn’t long before Nick noticed Matt’s shift in mood. “What’s with you, Matt? You good, bro?” Nick asked, eyeing him curiously.

“Yeah,” Matt muttered, his voice tight, “just tired.”

That was a lie. Everyone in the car knew it. You tried to shake off the sinking feeling in your chest as you realized he was actually mad about your joke, and though you wanted to say something, you knew this wasn’t the time or place. Not on camera.

The rest of the video dragged on, Matt growing more and more snappy with each passing minute. When it was finally over, Nick turned off the camera, and you all sat in silence for a moment before heading back home. The tension between you and Matt was palpable.

When you arrived at the house you shared with the triplets, Matt was out of the car as soon as it was parked, muttering something about going to his room. He didn’t wait for anyone, didn’t say a word to you. The door slammed behind him, leaving you standing there with Nick and Chris.

Nick gave you a look, his eyebrows raised. “What the hell was that about?”

You shrugged, trying to play it off even though your heart was sinking. “I think he’s mad about that question.”

Nick chuckled. “You’re kidding, right? It was obviously a joke.”

“Yeah, well, Matt’s being Matt,” Chris said, his voice a little softer. “Maybe you should go talk to him?”

You nodded, already dreading the conversation that was about to come. You made your way inside and up to Matt’s room. The door was closed, and you hesitated for a moment before knocking gently.

“What?” His voice was sharp, but you could tell he was trying to keep it in check.

You slowly opened the door, peeking inside. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, staring at the floor. His usual laid-back expression was replaced with a frown, his whole body tense.

“Can I come in?” you asked, your voice soft.

He didn’t look at you, but he gave a small nod. You stepped inside and closed the door behind you, walking over to sit beside him on the bed.

There was a beat of silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging between you.

“You’re mad,” you finally said, though it wasn’t really a question.

Matt sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Of course I’m mad, Y/N. How am I supposed to feel when you joke about that?”

You frowned, the confusion and frustration starting to bubble up inside you. “It was a joke, Matt. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, well, it didn’t feel like one.” His voice was tight, the hurt seeping through despite his attempt to keep it at bay. “It’s not funny to hear someone say they’d treat you better than me, and then for you to play along with it? What was I supposed to think?”

You stared at him, your heart sinking further as you realized how deeply it had affected him. “Matt, I didn’t mean it. You know that I’d never actually—”

He cut you off, finally looking up at you, his eyes filled with frustration. “But you said it. You said, ‘Hit me up, you know my Insta,’ like… like it wouldn’t bother me at all. Do you have any idea how that made me feel? Like I’m not enough.”

His words hit you hard, guilt settling in as you realized how much your thoughtless comment had hurt him. You reached out, placing a hand on his knee. “I’m sorry, Matt. I didn’t think… I didn’t realize it would hurt you like that. It was stupid. I shouldn’t have said it.”

He let out a slow breath, his shoulders sagging as some of the tension left his body. “I just… I don’t like the idea of anyone thinking they could take you away from me.”

Your heart clenched at the vulnerability in his voice, and you moved closer, wrapping your arms around him. He tensed for a moment before finally relaxing into your embrace, resting his head on your shoulder.

“No one could ever take me away from you,” you whispered, your voice soft and full of reassurance. “I’m with you because I want to be. I love you, Matt. You’re more than enough for me.”

He didn’t say anything at first, but you felt his arms slowly wrap around you, holding you close. The warmth of his body against yours made the tension in the room start to melt away, replaced by the comfort of being together.

“I love you too,” he mumbled, his voice quieter now, more gentle. “I’m sorry for snapping at you… I just— I don’t know, sometimes I get insecure.”

You pulled back slightly to look at him, brushing a hand through his hair. “You don’t need to be insecure. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

Matt gave a small nod, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Okay.”

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, and he closed his eyes, letting out a content sigh as he leaned into your touch. For a moment, you both just sat there, the weight of the argument fading away as you held each other.

“Come on,” you said after a while, your voice soft and teasing. “Let’s go lay down.”

Matt nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips as he followed you to the bed. You curled up together, his arms wrapped securely around you as you rested your head on his chest. The warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart beneath you was all the reassurance you needed.

“I’m really sorry,” you whispered again, tracing small patterns on his chest.

He kissed the top of your head, his hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back. “It’s okay. I just… I love you so much. It freaks me out sometimes.”

You smiled against his chest, your heart swelling with affection for him. “I love you too, Matt. Always.”

And with that, the last remnants of the argument dissolved, replaced by the comforting quiet of being in each other’s arms. The world outside didn’t matter anymore — it was just you and Matt, together, as it had always been.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274

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crystallinestars · 3 months ago

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NSFW Alphabet - Moze

I didn't expect to like Moze so much, but his backstory and gameplay got me, so here I am. Hope Moze lovers enjoy these silly headcanons of mine. Despite his serious demeanor, I'm a strong believer that Moze gets flustered when faced with sexual situations. Also, in case someone is not aware, girth is circumference not diameter.

Moze x Fem!Reader

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Moze feels awkward about what to do after sex because he’s not used to being affectionate. You’ll have to guide him on how to proceed, such as pulling him into a cuddle or engaging in pillow talk (though he’ll be mostly silent).

Due to his love for cleanliness, as soon as you’re able to stand, Moze ushers you into the shower. If you convince him to bathe together, Moze will join you in the tub and help lather your body until you’re squeaky clean. If you offer to wash him in return, Moze will say that he can wash himself, but he won’t stop you if you do it anyway. He grows flustered if you wash him because he’s not used to being cared for in such a manner, but he secretly enjoys the attention.

After a bath, Moze always changes the bedsheets if you did it on the bed. If you did it on other surfaces, he cleans up whatever mess you two made.

If he sees any bruising on your skin or if you complain about feeling sore, Moze will bring you to Jiaoqiu for treatment. The assassin is not used to physical intimacy, so he worries he might have hurt you, and will feel guilty about it until told it’s nothing serious.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On himself, Moze likes very little. He was seldom shown affection as a child, so he never quite learned to love himself. Whatever body part of his you shower in praise is one he will grow to think slightly better of. You think he’s got a handsome face? Your words will float into his mind every time he looks in a mirror, and a little warm spark ignites in his heart when he remembers you like how he looks. You like his muscles? He’ll try a little harder and train for a little longer to keep himself in shape. You like his hair? He’ll keep that haircut forever. Your praise means a lot to him even if he doesn’t outwardly show it.

On you, he loves everything. Moze is generally not picky about physical appearance of his partners. Every part of you looks pretty to him because he loves all of you. Though if you held him at gunpoint and forced him to confess, Moze would reluctantly admit that he loves the shape of your legs. He likes admiring them when you wear shorts or short skirts, and seeing you in thigh-highs makes him weak.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

His cum has a mild salty flavor and is a bit thick.

Moze prefers to use a condom to avoid making a mess and generally avoids pouring his seed on your face or other body parts, though if you’re really into being covered in his cum, he’ll entertain you. He makes sure you’re properly cleaned up afterwards.

As for your slick, Moze doesn’t mind getting it on himself since it’s yours. He’ll let himself get as dirty as necessary if it means making you feel good.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Before you became a couple, there was a time when Moze walked into your room to ask for an important document. Unfortunately for him, you were in the shower at the time so he was left to search for it on his own.

However, the bathroom door opened before he could find it, and you walked out wrapped in a towel. Out of instinct, Moze quickly turned invisible and slinked off to an inconspicuous corner of the room, heart pounding quickly in his chest. He didn’t know why he felt the need to hide because it’s not like he was doing something nefarious in your room, but a part of him worried you would get the wrong impression if you saw him there, and he really didn’t want you to think badly of him.

The assassin didn’t look in your direction while you waltzed around the room, gathering a change of clothes but his face was flushed scarlet simply from knowing what you were doing. He respected your privacy and remained looking at the wall, not wanting to stare at you like some kind of pervert while praying you wouldn’t discover him. Thankfully, you remained unaware of his presence up until you left the room, and Moze used the first opportunity he could to escape.

He tried really hard to put the event out of his memory because it was a huge source of embarrassment for him and will never admit it happened (unless you somehow find out and press him, to which he will confess to everything while dying inside).

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Moze has no experience whatsoever. Absolutely none. The man hasn’t even kissed anyone before. He’s got a general idea of how sex works, but up until getting together with you, he used to view it in a very scientific way. In his mind, it was just a process that led to the creation of children instead of something that a couple could do purely for the sake of fun and pleasure.

He didn’t even imagine having sex with someone one day, so when the possibility of being that intimate with you surfaced, Moze was at a loss. The first time you have sex might be a bit awkward and full of little hiccups because he isn’t too sure about what to do. He knows the general process, but it’s the details and intimacy that he struggles with.

After your first time, Moze does research on bedroom skills so he can improve for next time and pays rapt attention to any directions you give him. He’s invested in making the experience a good one for you and becomes intimately familiar with all the ways you like being pleased.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Moze enjoys sex against the wall. Pinning you against the wall with his body with one of your legs hooked around his waist is usually his go-to position, though he also enjoys lifting you by the hips so you can wrap both legs around him. He’s strong enough to support your weight for the entire duration of the lovemaking.

Despite his shyness at showing his face to you during coupling, Moze really likes positions where he can easily see your face. Cowgirl and missionary are some of his favorites for this reason. He likes seeing your face because it makes sex more intimate for him, plus it helps him gauge how good he’s making you feel. He also does variations of missionary, such as hiking one or both of your legs onto his shoulders or pressing your knees to your chest for a deeper penetration.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Despite his serious demeanor, Moze is unintentionally goofy. He might recite a sex fact or a lame joke he read online with the most serious tone of voice and expression all while trying to please you and ruin the mood. He means well, but some of the things he says are so unexpected that they can be unintentionally funny (or cringy).

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He clean shaves to keep that area orderly. If he did keep hair, then it would be regularly trimmed short and the same shade of gray as his hair.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Due to his upbringing, Moze never learned how to be open with his feelings or how to accept love and care, so he struggles with this in his life. Sex is no different.

Being expressive and affectionate is foreign to him because he learned to restrain his emotions, so he doesn’t shower you with odes of love and flowery compliments. He expresses his love for you in a different way. It manifests in eye contact during sex, pressing his body closer to yours until you’re practically flush together, holding your hand, and leaving a simple but lingering kiss on your lips after the act. Once he learns to open up more, Moze incorporates long and deep kisses into your lovemaking and holds you tighter to him, as if he is a man starved for you.

Even without the physical cues, the fact you are allowed to see him at his most vulnerable speaks volumes to how much he trusts and loves you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

If he needs to de-stress, Moze usually cleans to clear his mind, but on rare occasions, he masturbates to relieve tension. He feels a bit dirty afterwards, especially due to how messy masturbating can be, so he doesn’t do it often. However, after he fell in love with you, he was embarrassed to discover his thoughts strayed to you when he masturbated. It was never anything too lewd, mostly images of how flattering your body looked in that nice top you once wore, or the way your pants hugged your legs, or imagining it was your hand instead of his pumping along his hardness. Moze is usually good at being very quiet when masturbating, but when his thoughts stray to you, he lets out breathy gasps and even a moan when he climaxes.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Moze is pretty vanilla. Even if he had a wealth of sexual experience, his kinks would still be tame. He likes your legs, so anything that highlights their shape would appeal to him. Short skirts, shorts, and thigh-highs are just some of the things he likes seeing you in. He’s also a fan of seeing you dress up in flattering lingerie. It doesn’t even have to be sexy, just something cute that flatters your figure will have him thinking you’re beautiful and make him eager to feel your body.

Adding on his love for your legs, Moze is into thigh sex. If you’re okay with it, he would like to bury his cock between the flesh of your thighs. The squeeze of your soft thighs around him is both an erotic sight and sensation for him.

Moze also enjoys cosplay. He likes it when you wear something both sexy and cute, like a maid outfit or cat ears. He thinks you look tantalizing dressed up like that. If you ask, he’s willing to dress up for you as well. Stuff like formal/business wear, butler suits, glasses, a doctor coat, etc… are alright with him, though more provocative outfits like bunny suits would be too embarrassing for him to wear. Don’t ask Moze to roleplay, though. He’s not good at it.

Other kinks he’s into are body worship and praise. Once he grows comfortable with sex, Moze worships your body with his hands and lips, kissing and caressing every part of you because he genuinely appreciates your figure and the fact he’s lucky enough to call you his. Receiving the same affection on his own body will make him feel conflicted at first. As mentioned previously, Moze was deprived of love and affection when he was young, so receiving it feels foreign to him. If you take it slow and ease him into the experience, he will let you pamper his body and find a strange sense of enjoyment from it. If you combine your reverent touches with some praise, he will be deeply touched (more on this in Wild Card).

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Strictly at home. Moze doesn’t feel comfortable having sex anywhere else. In terms of locations in the house, he’s fine with almost anywhere, though he does favor the bathtub and bed.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Moze is a simple man. If he sees you in revealing clothing or things like swimsuits/lingerie, he grows flustered and pops a boner. Teasing or directly expressing your interest in having sex with him is another thing that easily gets Moze going. Feeling desired by you in an instant turn-on for him.

One other thing that gets him going is seeing you pleasure yourself. Whether he stumbles upon you by accident, or you purposely play with yourself to seduce him, Moze won’t be able to resist such an erotic sight. He’ll want to join in and help you get off, but only if you allow him. Seeing you feel good makes him feel good in turn.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Sharing is a no-no. You’re very special to Moze, and he hopes he’s equally as special to you as you are to him, so having sex with a third party ruins the illusion of your special relationship. Plus, he doesn’t want anyone other than you to see him in such a vulnerable state. He also doesn’t like the idea of sex in public places because he’s a very private person by nature.

Losing control over his body scares him, so Moze dislikes things like bondage and blindfolding. He’ll entertain you if you want that done to you, but he’s not comfortable with having it done to him. He also finds watersports gross.

Moze also refuses to get rough with or degrade you. He doesn’t want to hurt you and won’t find it enjoyable to do so. Another thing he doesn’t do is roleplay, but it’s less because he dislikes it and more because he sucks at it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

The first time you gave Moze a blowjob, he was caught by surprise due to how good it felt. His knees felt weak, and he had to fight to reign in his desire to orgasm right then and there. It was probably one of the few times when you heard him let out a loud, strangled moan and saw his reserved expression crumble into a pleasured one. The sensation of having his dick sucked for the first time was new and intense, which is why it had such a strong impact on him. Moze comes to love receiving blowjobs even though he’s too awkward to openly ask for them. There’s something erotic about watching you work your mouth over him, though he tends to avert his gaze out of fear of cumming too quickly from the sight.

When it comes to eating you out, Moze may lack experience, but he makes up for it with enthusiasm. He desires to make you feel good, so he gives it his all in learning all the spots that drive you wild. He pays rapt attention to your guidance in how you like to be eaten out and relies on your feedback and moans to tell him which pressure and speed you enjoy most. Moze quickly memorizes how you best like to feel his tongue in your pussy, which speed and pressure of flicks you enjoy against your clit, and the suction which makes you moan loudest.

If you squirm a lot due to his ministrations, Moze will pin your hips down, so you won’t interfere with his task. He won’t stop until he makes you orgasm, though if you tug at his hair and say it’s too much for you, he’ll stop. When he eats you out, your sounds and reactions can cause Moze to pop a boner and unconsciously grinds his hardness against the mattress.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

His go-to pace is slow, especially when he first starts having sex. Since everything is so new to him, Moze wants to take it slow so he can get used to the act of sex and learn what you’re both comfortable with. If you’re comfortable with a moderate or even fast pace, Moze can adjust and go faster to meet your needs.

Whether he wants it fast or slow depends on his mood. If he’s horny, he’ll want to go faster to chase after his release, but if the mood between you is intimate and sensual, he’ll opt for slower thrusts. At the end of the day, he will always go at the pace you want instead of what he wants because his goal is to make you happy.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Moze can go for quickies. If either of you get horny but there’s not enough time for a proper session of sex, then he is willing to indulge in oral sex, thigh jobs, or a quick fuck to satisfy the lustful cravings. He loves the emotional intimacy that comes with your regular lovemaking, so he does prefer longer sessions.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Moze is highly cautious by nature, so he is reluctant to take serious risks like exhibitionism or doing things that could result in injury. However, due to his inexperience, he’s also open to trying new things, especially if they’re something you’re interested in. He’s willing to try most things at least once as long as they don’t endanger either of you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Moze trains a lot, so his stamina is quite high. He can last for a long time, outlasting you by a long shot, but he stops if he senses you’re tired. He can easily last for 3 rounds, but rarely goes for more than that since you can’t keep up with his stamina.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Moze doesn’t own any toys. He’s embarrassed by the thought of using one and thinks they’re not necessary for him to feel good.

If there are toys you like using on yourself, Moze will learn how they work and will incorporate them into your sessions. As long as it makes you feel good, he’s willing to do almost anything to indulge you.

If you want to use sex toys on him, Moze will be hesitant and wary at first, but with some coaxing, you can convince him to give them a try. Moze prefers to keep things simple, so BDSM gear and whips are not toys he enjoys, though he ends up enjoying vibrators more than he thought he would. Still, sex toys are not really his thing, and he prefers to have sex without them (unless you’re super into them).

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Moze is straightforward by nature, so he doesn’t tease you in the bedroom. Edging isn’t something he considers because his mission is to make you feel good and bring you to orgasm, and that’s exactly what he sets out to do. He’s also terrible at dirty talk and verbal teasing (he doesn’t know what to say, or if he does say something, it sounds cringe), though he might make an amused remark if he sees you’re very eager for him.

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

Having lived most of his life mastering the skills of being imperceptible, Moze became skilled at keeping his voice and breathing very quiet. The most you hear from him during sex are ragged breaths, muffled moans, and questions if you’re feeling good. With some encouragement, he can be convinced to let his voice out more, but it feels more natural for him to suppress his noises. If you can get Moze to lower his guard and just enjoy the moment, he might let out low moans. They’ll still be quiet, but at least more audible.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

The first time you had sex, Moze almost cried. Ever since he could remember, he was deprived of love and affection. Being orphaned and then tortured and treated like a tool by his “family” at the Sanctus Medicus had taught him to suppress his needs and emotions. When Feixiao rescued him and gave him a second chance at life, he grew used to being called a weirdo and feared by people.

But here you were, touching him so tenderly as if he were something precious instead of a terrifying tool of murder. You marveled at his physique in a way nobody ever had before and whispered how handsome he looked despite all the scars. You kissed his skin so softly, seeking out with your lips and hands all the spots on his body that sent jolts of pleasure through him.

Moze had never been treated with such gentleness and care before, and the attention overwhelmed him. The tender touches and sweet compliments felt foreign yet so good, and when you said you loved him, his eyes involuntarily teared up, though he suppressed the urge to cry. Your affection touched him deeply, and it was scary how vulnerable you made him feel, so Moze asked you to stop.

However, afterward, he caught himself wanting to be touched and praised like that again. It had felt scary at first, but a part of him craved to feel that loved and cherished again. In the subsequent times when you worshipped his body, little by little, Moze learned to relax and enjoy being pampered. It still overwhelms him sometimes, and the vulnerability makes him uneasy, but he also trusts and loves you, so he feels safe exploring this part of himself with you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

13cm (5.1 inch) in length and 9.5cm (3.7 inch) in girth.

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

Prior to getting with you, Moze’s sex drive was low. Once you became a couple, Moze’s drive rose, so he now craves sexual intimacy about 2 times a week. He can go for more frequent sessions if your sex drive is higher than his because he’s just that eager to please you. His self-control is high, so if you’re not able to have sex for whatever reason, he can easily suppress his urges.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It’s rare for Moze to immediately fall asleep after sex. Usually, he waits until you fall asleep first before allowing himself to rest. There are also times when he has to leave for business reasons, so he doesn’t have the luxury to sleep or relax.

For the first while, Moze will be uncertain and hesitant about cuddling and hugging, so you will have to initiate if it’s something you want. Once he gets used to it, he will drape an arm around you and pull you close to his side or spoon you from behind. He’s a light sleeper and tends to stay in one position throughout the night, so if you move in your sleep, he’ll instantly wake up.

Moze enjoys it when you hug him and rest your head on his chest or shoulder and fall asleep in that position. He finds it comforting to be held by you, and think you look cute cuddling him like that.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #star rail x reader #moze x reader #hsr moze x reader #moze x reader smut #moze x female reader #moze x female reader smut

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rmadridcore · 23 days ago

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Jealous Streak

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x Reader

Summary: After Kylian gets mad over a silly misunderstanding, things quickly heat up between you two, turning his anger into something much more intimate.

Word Count: 2.9K

Warning: Smut! (Minors DNI)

Author’s note: I’m back to writing about Kylian! Recent events surrounding him had been so messy that I couldn’t find any inspiration to write for him anymore, but a new idea arose so here it is! I have a few requests waiting and I’ll get through them as fast as I can & now I will be taking requests about Kylian as well 🫂 hope you enjoy this one! Let me know what you think 🩷

Water droplets clung to your flushed skin as you wrapped yourself in a fluffy white towel, stepping out of the steamy shower cabin. You grabbed another towel, running it through your damp hair before swiping a hand across the fogged-up bathroom mirror. The haze cleared just enough for you to see your reflection as you applied a few drops of face oil, the soothing sensation adding to the relaxation you desperately needed. The tension from the day melted away, your muscles loose and your mind clearer after the long, steamy escape.

With the towel securely wrapped around your body and droplets still trailing down your warm skin, you padded into the shared bedroom of you and Kylian. He was sprawled on the bed, one arm tucked behind his head, absently playing with the TV remote. A random documentary played on the screen, but from the way his eyes glazed over, it was obvious he wasn’t paying attention.

You glanced at him, noticing his lack of acknowledgment as you entered. It wasn’t that he didn’t see you — oh, he noticed. Kylian was angry, his mood as sour as unripe lemons.

You sighed, your annoyance bubbling to the surface. The root of his irritation wasn’t entirely unexpected. The night before, you’d gone to a friend’s birthday party, solo, since Kylian was away for an away game. You had bumped into your ex boyfriend there, exchanged a polite but fleeting conversation, and thought nothing of it. To you, the interaction was so insignificant that it didn’t even cross your mind to mention it when you spoke to Kylian later that night.

But Kylian, ever the hawk-eyed protector, had seen pictures of the party while on the plane home, one of which captured your brief exchange with your ex. He’d flipped. Your reassurances, how brief the interaction was, how little it mattered, didn’t help. He wasn’t just mad that your ex had been there; he was mad that you hadn’t told him about it.

When Kylian arrived home a few hours ago, you’d expected him to have cooled off. You were wrong. If anything, he was more wound up than before, his brooding silence a testament to his irritation. After his passive aggressive digs began to test your patience, you decided to take a shower to escape his sulking. But now, as you stood in front of the vanity applying leave-in conditioner to your damp hair, you couldn’t ignore his childish behavior any longer.

“Am I getting the silent treatment now?” you asked, your tone sharper than you intended.

Kylian sighed, his gaze fixed on the TV. “I’m not in the mood to talk, that’s all.”

“You’re being ridiculous, you know that?” You set the bottle of conditioner down with a frustrated thud.

He didn’t respond, his jaw tightening as his eyes stayed glued to the screen.

The double standard wasn’t lost on you. Whenever you got jealous, Kylian would laugh it off, his reassurances wrapped in humor and affection. To him, the idea of you doubting his loyalty or devotion was absurd; he loved you too much to entertain thoughts of anyone else. But when the tables turned, when he was the one feeling the pangs of jealousy, it was a completely different story.

He wasn’t unreasonable — he trusted you implicitly. He knew, without a shred of doubt, that your love and loyalty were his alone. But that didn’t stop the irrational surge of irritation when someone else tried to insert themselves into your space, even momentarily. Jealousy wasn’t about mistrust; it was about his protectiveness, his possessiveness, his inability to tolerate the idea of anyone else claiming even a fraction of your attention.

And now, here he was, stewing in his emotions, dragging both of you into his mood. It was petty, it was unnecessary, and it was maddening.

You perched on the edge of the bed, your gaze fixed on Kylian, who still stubbornly refused to look at you. Frustrated yet determined, you reached out and placed a hand on his leg, giving him a light shake.

“Come on now, I deserve forgiveness, don’t I?” you said, your voice dripping with playful sarcasm. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes internally at how much of a fuss he was making over something so trivial.

Kylian didn’t respond, his jaw clenching slightly, but his eyes betrayed him. They flickered downward as your towel shifted, slipping just enough to reveal a teasing glimpse of your cleavage. His gaze lingered, involuntarily captivated, before he snapped himself out of it, tearing his eyes away and gluing them back to the television.

You smirked knowingly. That was it — his resolve was cracking. He was on the verge of giving in, and you weren’t about to let the opportunity slip away.

“You’re really not going to talk to me?” you teased, your hand sliding up his thigh, your fingers brushing against the sensitive spot that you knew made his breath hitch.

His reaction was instant, his breathing faltered, and his eyes darted down to your hand resting on his leg. But like the stubborn man he was, Kylian quickly averted his gaze back to the screen. “I’m watching something,” he muttered, the words unconvincing even to himself.

You arched a brow, suppressing a laugh. “Oh, really?” you challenged softly, leaning in closer. You were sure he couldn’t even name what the documentary was about if his life depended on it.

Tightening the towel securely around your body, you moved to lie down beside him, the mattress dipping slightly under your weight. Your proximity was deliberate, your movements calculated. You knew Kylian better than anyone, and you could tell he was fighting a losing battle.

You scooted closer until your body was practically flush against his, your hand sliding up to cradle his jaw. You placed a featherlight kiss on his cheek, your nose brushing against his skin as you inhaled his intoxicating scent.

He didn’t protest — in fact, you could feel him relax slightly under your touch, though his gaze stubbornly remained on the screen.

“Still mad at me?” you murmured, your lips trailing kisses along the curve of his cheek, each one softer and more deliberate than the last.

“A little,” he admitted, the corners of his mouth twitching into the faintest hint of a smile. You were close now, victory was within reach.

“How do I make you forgive me?” you asked, your voice dropping into a sultry whisper as your lips moved down to his neck. His breath hitched again, and this time, he didn’t even pretend to resist. Tilting his head to the side, he silently invited you to explore, giving you access to his smooth, warm skin.

You didn’t waste the opportunity, pressing open-mouthed kisses against his neck, slow and tantalizing, just the way you knew he liked them. Each kiss lingered, your tongue flicking lightly against his skin, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.

“You’ll have to figure that out,” he said, his voice lower now, a teasing edge lacing his tone. His hand moved to tug at your towel, but you swatted it away, stopping him just before he could succeed.

“Not so fast,” you scolded with a playful smirk, pushing his hand aside. You locked eyes with him, your gaze commanding. “Turn the TV off.”

He hesitated for only a moment before obeying without question, reaching over to grab the remote and switching off the screen. The room plunged into a comfortable silence, save for the sound of your kisses as you resumed your exploration of his neck. His skin was already beginning to show the faint marks of your affection, love bites blooming wherever your lips touched.

This battle of wills wasn’t one Kylian was going to win, not tonight.

Your hand slid down his chest deliberately, your fingers gliding over the sculpted ridges of his torso. Even through the fabric of his shirt, you could feel the tautness of his abs. Slowly, you slipped your hand beneath the hem of his shirt, letting your palm rest against the firm, warm skin of his stomach.

Your lips moved purposefully from his neck to his ear, where you knew he was most sensitive. As your mouth lingered near his ear, you took your time, savoring the quiet anticipation that built with every second. His breathing grew heavier, a restrained whine rumbling in the back of his throat.

Your lips closed around his earlobe, sucking gently before nipping at it with your teeth. At the same time, your hand ventured lower, cupping and massaging him through his shorts. The moment your touch landed there, Kylian let out a shaky whimper, his body betraying him despite his effort to hold back.

“Fuck, Kylian…” you murmured, your breath hot against his ear, your voice thick with desire. “You’re hard.”

He was, impossibly so. It always amazed you how little effort it took to get him this worked up. But Kylian never felt embarrassed by it; in fact, he encouraged you to embrace the power you had over him, and you did just that.

Teasingly, you paused, removing your hand from his bulge to toy with the waistband of his shorts. Your fingertips skimmed the edge, dipping just slightly inside before retreating, a deliberate game meant to drive him wild. At the same time, your lips stopped their exploration, hovering near his ear but offering no further relief.

Kylian exhaled a frustrated sigh, the tension in his body practically vibrating beneath you. “Y/N,” he said, his tone firm but undercut by an unmistakable desperation.

“What do you want, Kylian? Tell me,” you teased, your voice dripping with sultry confidence. Your hand hovered halfway inside his waistband, motionless, as you gazed down at him. His dark eyes locked onto yours, burning with need, though his jaw clenched with resistance.

“I—” he started, but the words faltered, his head falling back against the pillow as he struggled with his pride.

You leaned down, your lips brushing the shell of his ear as you whispered, “Use your words, baby.” Your mouth found the spot behind his ear again, kissing it softly before dragging your tongue across his heated skin. The reaction was instant — his chest rose sharply as he let out a ragged sigh.

“Touch me,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. His head tilted again, baring his neck to you as though surrendering completely.

You pulled back slightly, feigning a look of surprise. “That’s it?” you teased, raising a brow.

When he didn’t respond right away, you began to withdraw your hand, a silent punishment for his hesitation. That’s when he broke.

“Please, Y/N,” he pleaded, his voice raw with desperation. “Please touch me. Please.”

A wave of satisfaction washed over you at his shameless begging. “Since you’ve asked so nicely…” you said with a wicked smile, sliding your hand fully into his shorts. Your fingers wrapped around his throbbing cock, pulling it free from the confines of his underwear. You gave him a few firm, deliberate strokes, feeling his length twitch in your grip.

Kylian’s head fell back, a deep groan escaping his lips as his body melted under your touch. You worked him slowly at first, savoring every reaction — the way his breathing turned ragged, the way his hips twitched upward, seeking more.

Just as the tension in him began to crest, you pulled your hand away, leaving him gasping in frustration. “Y/N,” he whined, his brows furrowing in protest, but he didn’t move, his body too overwhelmed to resist.

You silenced him with a knowing smirk, spitting into your palm before wrapping your hand around his cock again. This time, your strokes were slick and smooth, your grip firmer as you tugged his foreskin up and down his shaft. Your hand moved with precision, knowing exactly how to unravel him.

Your head remained buried in his neck, your lips grazing and sucking at his skin, leaving marks that would linger long after. You didn’t need to look at what you were doing, your familiarity with his body was second nature by now.

Kylian was a mess beneath you, his body trembling with pleasure. His head lolled back, his mouth open as soft, breathy moans spilled from his lips. His voice was broken, whimpering your name between gasps, and it only fueled your determination to drive him further over the edge.

As your hand worked its magic on him, Kylian’s body tensed beneath you, his stomach muscles clenching involuntarily. His moans grew louder, more guttural, a clear sign that he was nearing his breaking point. You smirked against his neck, relishing the power you held over him. When his hips started to buck upward, chasing the orgasm building within him, you abruptly pulled away, leaving him on the edge and visibly desperate.

“Y/N—” he started, his voice hoarse with frustration. The heaviness in his balls was unmistakable, and his cock twitched in protest, aching for release.

You silenced him with a searing kiss, your tongue slipping past his lips and tangling with his. As the kiss deepened, you reached up and tugged at the knot of your towel, letting it fall away and tossing it across the room. The cool air kissed your bare skin, but the heat radiating from Kylian was all you felt.

In one smooth motion, you broke the kiss just long enough to tug his shirt off over his head, discarding it in the same direction as your towel. Your hands explored the expanse of his broad chest, feeling the firmness of his pecs and the rapid rise and fall of his breath. Straddling him, you felt his hands instinctively grip your hips, his touch possessive and eager.

Without breaking eye contact, you reached down, guiding his throbbing cock to your dripping entrance. Slowly, you sank down onto him, his length stretching you perfectly. Kylian’s head fell back against the pillows, a loud, guttural moan tearing from his lips as he filled you completely.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, his face twisting in pleasure.

Your hands splayed across his chest for balance as you began to move your hips, rolling them slowly to savor the sensation of him deep inside you. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your skin with an intensity that promised bruises. You welcomed the pressure, the reminder of how much he needed you.

“Feel so good, baby. So fucking good,” he cried out, his voice raw and unrestrained.

You couldn’t help but moan in response, the way he stretched you out and filled you making you feel like you were made for him. Every inch of his cock hit you just right, brushing against that perfect spot that sent shocks of pleasure coursing through your body.

Picking up the pace, you began to bounce on his shaft, your movements growing faster and more frantic. Kylian met your rhythm with thrusts of his own, his hips driving upward to match your descent. You were technically on top, but Kylian’s firm grip on your hips dictated the pace, his control subtle yet undeniable.

“Kylian,” you cried out, throwing your head back as waves of pleasure consumed you.

He raised his head slightly, his eyes dropping to where your bodies were joined. The sight of his cock disappearing into you over and over again made him groan deeply, his hand leaving your hip to find your clit. His fingers worked slow, deliberate circles, the pressure just enough to make your thighs tremble.

He knew your body like no one else, he could find your sweet spot even if he was blindfolded, underwater, and upside down.

“Merde, mon amour. Tu te sens incroyable,” he rasped, his words dripping with pleasure. His breaths were heavy, his moans frequent and raw as he fought to keep himself together.

Your legs began to tremble, the strain of riding him taking its toll. You gripped his shoulders tightly, using them for support as your pace faltered slightly. Kylian, ever in tune with you, took the lead, bucking his hips upward harder and faster.

“Kylian, I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as the tension inside you reached its peak.

“Come for me, angel,” he urged, his voice soft yet commanding. His hand on your clit didn’t relent, his movements calculated to push you over the edge.

You cupped his face with one hand, forcing him to meet your gaze. His dark eyes burned into yours, the intensity between you electric. The connection sent you hurtling into your climax, your body shuddering as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

Your moans mixed with his as Kylian’s hips stuttered, his release following closely behind yours. You felt him twitch inside you as he spilled his load deep within, the sensation prolonging your high. His head fell back against the pillow, his chest heaving as he rode out the last of his orgasm.

The room was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing, the air thick with heat and the scent of sex. Kylian’s hands moved from your hips to gently caress your thighs, his touch soothing where it had once been demanding.

You leaned down, your lips brushing against his as you asked playfully, “So, am I forgiven?”

He chuckled, his chest vibrating against yours as he pulled you closer. “I’ll let you know after round two,” he teased, capturing your lips in a deep, messy kiss.

You laughed softly, your forehead resting against his as the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you tangled together in the aftermath of your love.

#kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe x y/n #kylian mbappe x you #kylian mbappe angst #kylian mbappe smut #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe imagine #kylian x reader #kylian imagines #km9 #km9 x reader #real madrid #rma #rmafc #football player x reader #football imagine #football fic #football fanfic

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tojivu · 2 years ago

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one bed + morning after ⋆ genshin men

an. clearijg up drafts (that i like), expect more soon

cw. genshin men & one bed trope, includes zhongli diluc childe thoma. f!reader implied. sfw.

playing. nothing revealed / everything denied by the 1975

DILUC’s face is almost as red as his hair. he hoped to get this trip over and done with; considering how the friend group had just dragged him on this adventure when he had better things to do. however, he found the silver lining he didn’t expect; you.

he had always found you attractive, sometimes stealing glances at you when you’re talking to his friends or secretly hoping you would ask him to hang out (without your annoying friends tagging along, as they had always done)—so when he finds out he’s stuck with you for the night, he has mixed feelings. he sticks himself to the wall, feeling too awkward to even sit down, and you’re combing your hair in the mirror.

“i’m gonna go to bed soon. you gonna stand there all night, luc?”

god, the way you said his name. “no, i’ll be on the couch.”

“don’t be silly.” you put the comb down and turn off the bathroom lights, then getting on the bed to make yourself comfortable. you pat the empty space next to you to signal that it’s okay, that he could sleep next to you if he wanted. “don’t be scared. it’s not that big of a deal.”

of course it wasn’t, to you.

diluc reluctantly gets on the bed, and he’s as stiff as a wood plank. you turn and look at him, on your side, and he fights his urge to look back at you; he knows he’ll just make a fool of himself. “goodnight, luc.”

you expected diluc to be sleeping, facing the ceiling—as if he didn’t move from the night before. but your eyes flutter open and you see diluc facing you, his face only inches away; sleeping peacefully. the sunlight is seeping in through the curtain gaps, and the air is cold.

diluc wakes and he doesn’t jump in surprise, instead he opens his eyes and stares lazily at you—as if you were a sight he saw every morning; natural, like you were meant to be there with him. his morning voice is rough as he speaks, “good morning, y/n.”

your heart is merciless that morning, diluc swore he could hear your heartbeat pounding.

CHILDE doesn’t realise how troublesome it is to have such a tiny bed to two people. he had always slept alone, in a queen, his sleeping positions almost always bizarre as he had space to spare. your friend group didn’t think to consider whether making him sleep in a small hotel room with only one bed would trouble him— but as soon as he was told that he was sharing a room with you, his face lit up. childe didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, though, but it would be a lie if he said he didn’t want to be stuck with you for a whole 8 hours.

“did you hear?” he leans against the counter at the reception desk, on one arm, looking at you with a smirk on his face. you’re guessing what it could be—what prank he’d be pulling on you this time.

“we’re sharing a room?” you guess, voice monotone and bored; it was 12 in the morning and all you wanted to do was sleep—entertaining childe’s nonsense was not going to be a part of your nightly routine. you expect a big “no!” from him, but he keeps quiet instead.

after a few seconds of awkward silence, he reaches for the keycard in your hand and grabs hold of it. “i guess i’ll unpack first, then.”

there wasn’t any point in fighting the receptionist for your own room, since she told you they were packed for the week and reservations had already been made.

you’re on the far end of the bed while childe is comfortable. the pillows smell like his shampoo. you can’t sleep, and he notices that. childe snickers at how you’re trying so hard not to fall off the bed.

“c’mere.” he offers, “there’s space.”

“there isn’t.”

“trust me, i don’t like this either.” what a liar, he thought to himself.

you reluctantly shift closer to him, yet thankful he offered—you were close to moving anyway. “this is so stupid.”

when you wake, you find yourself facing the wall—childe’s arms are wrapped around your waist, his chest pressing against your back. he’s still asleep, his light snores being the only thing you can hear. you tell yourself this is not what you wished to wake up to, but the blush creeping up on your face says everything.

ZHONGLI finds it completely normal. he cannot take a hint. it was just a business trip, and he didn’t want you (his secretary) to sleep uncomfortably. you had much to do the morning after and a sore back would do you no good—he was just being a responsible boss. just that, nothing else. he doesn’t notice the blush on your cheeks when he tells you to get in bed with him, and when he tells you goodnight when his face is only inches away from yours. it seems like you don’t notice how he gets a little nervous when you move closer—or accidentally brush your hands against his under the sheets, either.

zhongli takes off his slippers, then throwing the towel on his neck onto the chair next to the nightstand. you’re already in bed, laying down like a mummy—afraid to make a bad impression.

“busy day tomorrow.” he says. “goodnight, y/n.”

you muster the courage to say it back, but the heartbeat pulsing in your ears make it hard. “goodnight.”

“why are you laying down like that?” he suddenly says, just moments after you close your eyes. you jolt awake, surprised he would ask.

“i don’t want to make you uncomfortable, mr. zhongli–“

“don’t be ridiculous. come.” this is not normal. superiors are not supposed to be in the same bed as their secretaries. you’re not supposed to be in the same bed as your superior. nevertheless, he’s your boss. if he wants you to come closer, who are you to disobey?

you move closer to him, letting out a sigh of relief because theres much more space on his side of the bed. you hope it won’t be awkward at tomorrow morning’s meeting, and you hope no one catches you leaving his hotel room as soon as the sun rises.

your eyes open and the sun is rising. the sky is a pink-orange colour—the air is warm, but not too warm. you turn your gaze to your side and see zhongli, sleeping peacefully, and it hits you that you’ve never seen your boss like this. you’d just assumed that he never slept; such a workaholic he is. with his position, who has time to get shuteye?

you don’t realise he’s awake until he says something. you’ve been staring at him for a few minutes now.

“take a picture, it’ll last longer, miss y/n.”

you’re too tired to feel embarrassed, but the red on your cheeks show it anyway. “good morning, mr zhongli.”

“first time i’ve slept so soundly,” he smiles, “we should do this more often.”

zhongli was always blunt and straightforward, though it never bothered you. in fact, you admired that about him—something about the morning air and your boss waking up next to you stirs something in your chest.

THOMA was the shy classmate you always wanted to befriend. he was often seen reading books in the corner of the classroom, his head down and his eyes scanning pages. you were the popular kid, always being approached by those who are interested in you—but thoma was the only one who could catch your attention. you end up making friends with him, and spontaneously invite him on a trip outside the city. a small hostel was all you two could find, and even then, the prices were… outrageous.

“i could pay for two rooms, if you’re not comfortable.” you offered him, but knowing thoma, he’d probably decline and say—

“no, that’s a lot of money.” he shakes his head, “we came all this way. we still need money to head home.” of course, thoma was too sweet to make you do such a thing for him.

when you enter the room, you’re surprised to see only one bed. you’d just sleep on the floor, you thought—you dragged thoma out here, it would only be polite to do such a thing for him.

“so you wanna face the wall or..”

“what?”

“oh, you’re not sleeping on the floor, are you?” he questions, and you think he must be going crazy. what kind of guy asks a question like that? “we walked a lot today.”

your confidence is nowhere to be found now—with thoma, it’s hard for you to find the right words to say because you’re always so nervous; it’s a curse, especially during times like these. you decide to just suck it up for the night. thoma was a deep sleeper; and you knew this because of the train ride here—he was snoring so loud the whole cabin could hear him, and your pokes and shoves did nothing to wake him. it wouldn’t be much of an issue to sleep next to him, you hope.

it’s surprisingly easy to fall asleep next to thoma, his body warms the bed up and you find yourself inching closer to him as the hours pass—it’s comfortable, regrettably, but you can’t help yourself. it’s 4 in the morning when your head is buried into thoma’s shoulder, warmth encapsulating you; and the air is quiet until he speaks.

“it’s so cold tonight,” he’s complaining, though his tone sounds awfully happy, and you feel him hold your hand under the covers. “this hostel is so shitty.”

“isn’t it?” you’re smiling so hard you swear your cheeks are going to fall off. thank the stars it’s pitch dark in the room.

you wake hours later, thoma’s arm under your neck and holding you close. it’s no longer cold, you realise. you hear snoring in your right ear, and you’re once again thankful he can’t see your expression—a bright red.

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ghostchems · 2 months ago

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infernal - terzo x f!reader - part seven

and now... a flashback chapter

art by the always amazing @piaart

author’s note: i feel like shit but it helped me finish this up. plenty of terzo pain here meanwhile reader is home, blissfully unaware. i also have no idea if my writing is good at this point but here ya go! part one/two/three/four/five/six. ao3 link.

If you could see the wreck I am these days, you’d have new reasons to stay away. Just hold my hand for a little while —

Misery never goes out of style.

Terzo traces a delicate finger along one of the bags under his eyes, no longer concealed by the dark eye paint he once wore. His brows furrow at the sight of himself in the mirror. The wrinkles have deepened since he left the stage. His hair, now less lustrous, betrays gray strands emerging from his roots and sideburns. All those years spent cultivating his image, trying to become the perfect imperfection that Lucifer himself boasted—only to unravel after one fateful show. He grits his teeth, his mismatched eyes sharpening in his reflection.

With all the glitz stripped away, he loathes how much he now resembles his father…

Terzo forces the thought out of his head. His days are spent analyzing his time as Papa and what went wrong. He wouldn’t do anything differently but it still stung, especially after the new heights and exposure he had achieved for the Ministry. Somehow, it was not enough. His father was never proud of him, a theme that stretched throughout his entire life. Terzo was only ever the Third to him, the third son that would serve his purpose and then be pushed aside for whoever was next. While this had been the typical progression, Terzo was the fool who thought he would be different — even after being warned by Secondo.

Secondo.

“Cazzo.”

He’s late for Uno Night.

The once-revered Emeritus brothers now find themselves relegated to a desolate corner of the abbey with their only entertainment being a silly card game. Their influence wanes with each passing day. Terzo can't help but sneer at the irony of their situation - former leaders now barely more than forgotten relics, with only each other’s company. There was a time when the Emeritus brothers were revered as gods among men. Crowds would surge forward at their concerts, desperate to touch the hem of their robes or catch a glimpse of their painted faces. Devotees would line up for hours, sometimes days, just for the chance to receive a blessing or a fleeting moment of attention. Their every word was treated as gospel, their gestures analyzed and imitated by legions of faithful followers.

In the halls of the Ministry, their presence commanded instant respect and adoration. Ghouls and Siblings of Sin alike would bow their heads in reverence as they passed. Their chambers were filled with lavish gifts from admirers - exotic incense, priceless artifacts, and fervent love letters. The very air seemed to crackle with power and dark allure whenever they entered a room. Now, that electric atmosphere has faded to a dull static. The gifts have stopped coming, the adoring crowds have moved on to newer, shinier idols. The once-mighty Emeritus brothers find themselves grasping at the fading light of their former glory, clinging to memories of a time when they were worshipped as the embodiments of their infernal master.

He used to delicately paint his face for each meeting, a ritual of devotion to himself and his roll as Papa. But now, as he stares at his bare face, he feels a bitter resentment towards the being he once revered. The paint feels like a mask of lies, concealing the growing doubts and anger festering within him. Lucifer's promises of power and glory now ring hollow in his ears, leaving only the taste of ash and disappointment. Terzo exhales through his nose and tears himself away from the mirror, satisfied with his appearance but frustrated with the progression of his thoughts. He had grown more disillusioned by the day with the cause he so passionately promoted, the being he worshipped. Lucifer, once his guiding light, now seemed like a cruel puppeteer, manipulating him for some cosmic joke.

Omega did not like these thoughts. In fact, Terzo has begun avoiding him and instead has been seeking the company of his brothers. Perhaps the one silver lining in all of this is that he is closer than he ever has been with his true family, minus daddy dearest, of course. They had grown up together, with Primo practically raising him and Secondo after they had come to the ministry. Back then he was a true zealot - a satanic lunatic whose fervor for the dark arts knew no bounds. It was from him that Terzo learned the intricacies of their infernal faith, absorbing every ritual and incantation with wide-eyed fascination. Yet, somehow, both Terzo and Secondo emerged less fanatical than their older brother.

But still competitors, nonetheless. Secondo and Terzo had been born to different mothers three months apart so it came naturally. The more time spent together now, the more they realize how similar they can be and deep down, Terzo wishes they had not been so combative. It was encouraged, though, fed and grown by the higher ups in the ministry and their father. Maybe they feared they would be too powerful if they were close.

Now all they care about is Uno.

"Fuck!" Terzo exclaims again, his voice tinged with frustration as he runs a hand tiredly over his face. The weight of his thoughts bears down on him, but he knows he can't afford to dwell any longer. With a deep sigh, he forces himself into action, slipping his feet into his shoes - the familiar spats clicking as he gets them on. Just as he reaches for the door handle, a sharp knock echoes through the room. Terzo pauses, his hand hovering in mid-air. Irritation flashes across his face.

"Enter," he calls out, his voice tinged with impatience.

The door creaks open, revealing a young Sibling of Sin. Their face is pale, eyes wide with fear and urgency. Terzo's irritation gives way to curiosity as he takes in their disheveled appearance.

"What is it?" he asks, his tone softening slightly.

The Sibling swallows hard before speaking, their voice trembling. "Papa, I... I have news. It's about Omega."

Terzo's eyebrows furrow. "Omega? What about him?" He nonchalantly goes back to adjusting his outfit, wondering if this is another plot from the ghoul to try and make him listen to “reason”. He certainly has stooped rather low, almost as low as Terzo.

The Sibling takes a deep breath, as if steeling themselves for what they're about to say. "He's been banished, Papa. Omega has been cast out of the Ministry."

The words hit Terzo like a physical blow. He stumbles back a step, his mind reeling. "Banished?" he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. "But... how? Why?" Pain is etched across his face.

The Sibling shakes their head, clearly as confused and shaken as Terzo. "I don't know the details, Papa. It happened so suddenly. They're saying it came from the highest levels of the Ministry."

Terzo's mind races, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. Shock, confusion, and a sudden, unexpected pang of loss all vie for dominance. Despite their recent disagreements, Omega had been a constant in his life for so long. The thought of him being gone, cast out... it's almost inconceivable.

Terzo's composure shatters as the weight of the news crashes over him. His eyes flash with unbridled fury, causing the Sibling to take an involuntary step back. "Get out!" he roars, his voice reverberating off the walls. "Leave me! Now!" The Sibling, wide-eyed with fear, scrambles to obey, nearly tripping over their own feet in their haste to escape. Terzo slams the door with such force that the entire room seems to shake, the sound echoing through the corridors like a thunderclap.

As soon as the barrier between him and the outside world is secure, everything crumbles. A primal roar of anguish and frustration tears from his throat, echoing off the walls of his private chambers. In a whirlwind of unbridled emotion, he lashes out at his surroundings. His fist connects with the ornate mirror adorning his vanity, the impact sending a spider web of cracks across its surface before it shatters completely. Shards of glass rain down, glittering in the dim light like fallen stars.

But Terzo's rage demands more destruction. He overturns his meticulously organized desk, unleashing an avalanche of papers, pens, and trinkets onto the floor. Books, once neatly arranged on shelves, are torn free and flung across the room, their pages fluttering like disoriented birds. His wardrobe—a carefully curated collection of robes and suits that once symbolized his power and prestige—falls victim to his fury next. Garments are ripped from hangers and strewn about haphazardly, silk and velvet mingling with the debris below. Spotting one of his Papal robes, an early prototype, he seizes it and tears, splitting seams and fabric into pieces with savage force.

He could kill them. End the reign of his father and Sister Imperator with a knife to their throats, a hammer to their heads. He’s capable and he’s angry.

But that’s not who Terzo is.

His appetite for destruction is as swift as it is thorough. When the storm of his anger finally subsides, Terzo finds himself standing amidst the wreckage of his once-immaculate quarters. His chest heaves with each ragged breath, his knuckles having bloodied his gloves from his outburst. The room, previously a testament to his refined tastes and exalted position, now lies in utter ruin around him. He closes his eyes, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath as the full weight of what has transpired begins to settle upon him.

The dust settles around him, both literally and figuratively, as his mind wanders to Omega. Their relationship, once the core of his existence within the Ministry, had deteriorated over the past several months, transforming into a strained and tenuous connection. The rift between them had widened, growing into a seemingly unbridgeable gap that threatened to swallow everything they shared whole. Omega, ever faithful of their infernal master, had persistently begged Terzo to embrace what he perceived as a well-deserved retirement—a supposed reward bestowed upon them by Lucifer himself for their years of unwavering service and dedication.

"Papa, you've more than earned this rest," Omega would implore, his eyes blazing with sheer intensity behind his cool mask that Terzo found increasingly difficult to look at. "Our Dark Lord Lucifer, in his infinite wisdom, has granted you this period of rest and reflection. Why do you persist in resisting? Can you not see the honor in this gift he has bestowed upon you?"

But for Terzo, the notion of settling into a life of idle luxury felt suffocating—a gilded cage that threatened to strip away everything he had fought so hard to achieve. The very thought of turning his back on the empire he had painstakingly built, nurtured, and expanded over the years felt like a betrayal of who he is and what defines him. As time wore on, his arguments with Omega grew increasingly heated and frequent, his frustration mounting with each tense exchange, threatening to boil over into hostility.

"You call this rest, Omega?" Terzo would retort, his voice rising with each impassioned word, hands gesticulating wildly to emphasize his point. "This isn't rest—it's nothing short of exile, a banishment from everything I've ever known and loved! How can you, of all people, expect me to sit idly by, content to watch as everything I've dedicated my life to—my very existence—crumbles around me like dust?" The air between them would crackle with tension during these confrontations, an electric charge that made it increasingly difficult for them to occupy the same space without the risk of conflict erupting at any moment.

Now, with the shocking news of Omega's sudden and unexpected banishment reverberating through the chambers of his mind, Terzo finds himself consumed with emotion. Relief, guilt, anger, and a profound sense of loss intertwine in a dizzying dance, each vying for dominance in the turbulent landscape of his mind. Despite their recent differences and the ever-widening divide between them, Omega had been a constant, unwavering presence in Terzo's life for longer than he cared to remember—a touchstone of familiarity. His abrupt absence leaves a gaping void in the fabric of Terzo's existence, a wound so deep and raw that he isn't certain he possesses the means to heal it.

Even with the turmoil raging inside him, Terzo finds himself drawn to the familiar comfort of his brothers' company. With a heavy sigh, he straightens his posture and smooths down his attire, a reflexive gesture from years of public appearances. He may be struggling, but he'll be damned if he lets it show—at least not to them. They have all had their hardships. If anyone knows and understands what he is feeling right now, it is his brothers. Terzo’s steps are heavy, using his feet to clear a path forward amidst everything now on the floor. He reaches the door, hesitating for just a moment. There’s a weight pressing down on him that threatens to crush him, to break him down until there’s nothing left.

He won’t let it.

Terzo opens the door and leaves his room. As he makes his way towards the small room where their Uno nights are held, his mind goes blank, going numb to the intense feelings that are simmering beneath the surface. He trudges down the dimly lit corridor, his footsteps echoing off the ancient stone walls, focusing on that sound to keep him grounded. As he rounds a corner, lost in the maelstrom of his thoughts, a familiar voice catches his attention, causing him to halt abruptly.

Turning, he sees Cardinal Copia emerging from his office, a stack of papers tucked under one arm and an Uno card inexplicably held between two fingers of his free hand. The Cardinal's painted face breaks into a warm smile as he spots Terzo, oblivious to the storm brewing within the former Papa.

"Ah, Papa, on your way to Uno Night, yes?” The cheerful greeting hangs in the air, a stark contrast to the darkness swirling within Terzo.

Terzo's entire body tenses, his jaw clenching so tightly he can hear his teeth grind. The sight of him, so content and oblivious to the turmoil raging through the Ministry, ignites a fire in Terzo's chest—one that he had hoped was extinguished following his outburst in his room. His eyes narrow as he regards Copia with barely contained irritation. "Uno Night," he repeats, his voice low and controlled, though tension radiates from every syllable. "Mmm… yes." He takes a step closer to Copia, his presence suddenly looming and intimidating.

Copia's smile falters slightly, but he presses on, still oblivious and sweet. "It's become quite the tradition with your brothers, hasn't it?" He hesitates for a moment, then reaches into his sleeve and pulls out a blue reverse card. He holds it out to Terzo, a tentative peace offering. "Here, Papa. I always keep this one for luck. Perhaps... perhaps you'd like to have it for tonight's game?"

Terzo's gaze sharpens dangerously as he struggles to maintain his composure. His arms are crossed tightly over his chest, fingers digging into his biceps. The sight of that blue card in Copia's hand—a symbol of the carefree life he now leads—causes the fire to spread inside him, consuming him yet again. Terzo’s voice, when he finally speaks, is low and menacing, barely above a whisper.

"Tradition?" His voice is guttural and rough. "You dare speak to me of tradition when everything is crumbling around us? When the very foundations of our world are ripped away from us?" His words are full of anguish and rage, each one striking Copia like a physical blow.

The Cardinal stumbles back, his expression morphing from confusion to outright fear. "P-Papa, I... I don't understand-" he stammers, his voice trembling.

"Of course you don't understand!" Terzo cuts him off, his composure shattering completely. "You're nothing but a pawn, a naive fool dancing to their twisted tune!" He gestures wildly, his movements sharp and erratic. "Do you have any idea what's happening beyond your little bubble of blissful ignorance? Omega is gone! Banished! Cast out like yesterday's trash! And here you stand, grinning like a fool, oblivious to the chaos swirling around you!"

Copia's eyes widen in shock, the full weight of Terzo's words finally sinking in. "Omega? But how- Why-" he begins, but Terzo is far from finished.

Terzo snatches the blue Uno card from Copia's hand, gripping it so hard it begins to crumble in his grip. "And this?" he spits, brandishing it like damning evidence. "You think this changes anything? You think a game can fix what's broken? This card, this... this mockery of what we once were!" His voice rises to a near-scream. "Do you have any idea what this represents? It's not just a game, you fool! It's everything we've lost, everything that's been taken from us!"

With a primal yell that seems to shake the very stones of the corridor, Terzo tears the card to shreds. The pieces flutter between them like confetti, a mockery of celebration in this moment of utter despair. Copia flinches, raising his hands as if to shield himself from the physical manifestation of Terzo's rage.

"P-Papa, please," Copia stammers, his voice barely above a whisper, a plea for understanding, for mercy. "I didn't mean to-"

But Terzo is beyond reason, beyond mercy. His voice drops to a low, dangerous hiss, each word dripping with venom. "Get out of my sight," he commands, his tone brooking no argument. "You don't belong here. You never will. You're nothing but a pale imitation, a cheap replacement for something you could never hope to understand. And take your pathetic games with you!"

As Copia retreats, practically running down the corridor, Terzo stands amidst the scattered remains of the card. His chest heaves with each ragged breath, anger and grief warring within him. In the sudden silence, the weight of his actions begins to settle upon him. He knows, in some distant corner of his mind, that he's overreacted, that Copia isn't truly to blame for the chaos engulfing their world. But in this moment, all he can feel is the crushing weight of loss - of his position, of Omega, of everything he once held dear. And that damned Uno card, now in pieces at his feet, seems to mock him with its cheerful blue color, a stark contrast to the darkness consuming his soul.

If only he could reverse being removed from the Papacy.

With a deep, shuddering breath, Terzo straightens his posture and adjusts his shirt in an attempt to calm himself. He struggles to push down the turmoil within, determined not to let his brothers see his inner struggle. As he approaches the card room, he steels himself, forcing his face into a mask of nonchalance.

Opening the door, he finds his brothers already seated. An almost startling wave of relief washes over him. He allows a scoff to escape his lips at the sight of Primo, face fully painted and wearing a Burberry scarf. Before he can comment, Secondo interjects.

"Already gave him trouble for it, stronzino. If you'd been on time, you could've joined." There's a glint of mischief in Secondo's eyes.

Terzo rolls his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth despite his best efforts to maintain his aloof facade. He saunters over to the table, pulling up a chair with dramatic flair. "Well, shall we begin? I'm feeling particularly lucky tonight." He shoots a pointed look at Secondo, silently accepting the challenge in his brother's gaze.

He settles into his seat and the feeling of relief continues to spread through him. Here, surrounded by his brothers and the familiar rhythm of an extremely low-stakes card game, he can momentarily push aside his anger and frustration. In this room, he's not the fallen Papa or a disappointment to the Ministry - he's simply Terzo, the youngest of the Emeritus brothers, ready to lose himself in the game and forget, if only for a while, how far he has fallen.

On this particular evening, Sister Imperator and Papa Nihil would make an unexpected appearance, delivering news that would leave the brothers startled and confused.

They would be unable to continue their card game.

Terzo is deep in his desk chair, his body nearly slipped from it onto the floor. His gaze is locked on the the hell phone which has been ringing nonstop since you left for the night. Your taste is still on his tongue, your scent clinging to his robe. He’s afraid to move to disturb the haze he’s settled into, even though you would be back bright and early for work the morning after next. Fingers fall to his temples, rubbing them with each piercing ring of the phone.

He wouldn’t answer. He doesn’t want to face who is on the other line.

Was it Omega? What could he possibly say? He would only complicate matters—as he already has. The hell phone materialized before you, and you listened to the sounds of the abyss. It drove you into Terzo's arms and bed, but... you didn't deserve to experience such terrors or feel so frightened in his home. Or at least, if anyone was going to frighten you it should be him. His fingers drum along the arms of the chair, a deep grumble vibrating from his chest. The goal is to get you to stay, to devote yourself to him and only him. Yet the fear gnaws at him. What if the terrors you've witnessed push you away? The thought of losing you to the very darkness he once revered sends a chill through him. He wants you by his side, but you have to want to be there. Perhaps, he muses bitterly, this is another of Lucifer's cruel jokes—dangling happiness before him, only to threaten it with the very forces he once embraced.

Maybe the imp who fixed your tire that Terzo had shredded was calling. What was that all about? He didn’t have time to mull that incident over earlier while you were here. Is he manifesting things?

The memory of when he had accidentally shocked you resurfaces, Terzo's frown deepens. He recalls the pain on your face when he zapped your wrist. His gaze drifts to his hands, studying them as if they belong to a stranger. These hands that once commanded crowds, that channeled unholy energies with precision and purpose, now feel like unpredictable weapons. He clenches his fists, feeling the familiar tingle of power just beneath his skin. What if he hurts you again?

Another memory flits to the forefront of his mind — when he screamed at you over his relics being displayed causing a lightbulb to shatter. He remembers the fear in your eyes as it happened. It wasn't Lucifer's doing—it was his own power, his own lack of control. The realization hits him like a punch to the gut. Perhaps the true threat to your happiness, to any chance of a future together, isn't some external force or cosmic joke. It's him.

The silver lining is that you had seemed to be… into it. But what if next time, it's worse than a small shock or a broken bulb?

The thought sends a wave of despair crashing over him. Is he doomed to be alone, forever isolated by the very gifts that once made him special? The irony isn't lost on him—he who once reveled in his dark powers, who used them to seduce and enthrall, now fears them as the very thing that might drive you away. Terzo slumps further in his chair. The illusion of his perfection continues to fade but he’s stubborn. Unwilling to change his ways even though he knows he can be cruel and difficult.

He originally expected you to just deal with it.

Terzo rises with a frustrated growl, letting the hell phone continue its incessant ringing. He stalks over to his liquor cabinet, hands trembling slightly as he pours himself a generous measure of whiskey. What have you done to him? How dare you make him want to be better? He decides he must, at the very least, attempt to protect you from whatever hell seemingly has in store for you. This includes tempering his emotions, an obvious factor of his otherworldly abilities. Seriously, how dare you?

Taking a long swig, he savors the burn as it slides down his throat. It's a familiar comfort, one that does little to reduce the budding anxiety he feels. With a heavy sigh, he turns his back on the still-ringing phone and retreats to his bedroom, drink in hand. The door closes behind him, muffling the sound of the hell phone but he can still feel its presence. Terzo takes another sip, hoping to drink himself into unconsciousness.

Only two sleeps until he sees you again.

#terzo #terzo x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus x reader #ghost fanfic #ghost band fanfic #ghost fanfiction

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starsinthesky5 · 4 months ago

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you belong with me (mini fic): hotel room || joe burrow x reader

description: sometimes the need to feel each other is just too strong to resist

a/n: SURPRISE! a little bitty standalone type fic before we get to the angstiest fic I've ever writtennnnnn ;) horny hour came to WORK in this fic...

also woah? two fics from me in 1 weekend? and I wrote this in a day? what. so if this is trash, boring, or me yapping, that’s because I wrote this within the last few hours and im sleepy 😋 this was inspired by 2 requests! thank you, you know who you are💗💗

anyway, go check out the one if you haven't!

word count: 5.9 k

warnings: smut (there’s thigh riding in this one 😜), language

you belong with me series masterlist

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"Oh, fuck," Joe whispered to himself as he opened the photos that you just sent him from your hotel room, the need to see you growing just like the tent in his pants as his hormones started to soar.

You both were away in Kansas City for the weekend ahead of the highly anticipated AFC championship game between the Bengals and the Chiefs on Sunday night. Joe had flown to Kansas City with the team as usual while he chartered a private plane for you that was a few hours behind him and he made sure that he booked you a hotel room specifically at the hotel that the team was staying at. He felt comfort in knowing that you were safe and close to him--you were just 8 floors beneath him--since you came to KC alone since his parents would be flying in early tomorrow morning.

Since you technically weren't allowed to see Joe and didn't want to go out in the City all alone, you found yourself absolutely bored out of your mind, not being able to find any entertainment or way to pass the time all alone. You found yourself like this a few weeks ago as well, the night before the first playoff game of the post-season, and remembered what you did to cure your boredom and entertain yourself and Joe.

Spicy Photos.

He loved them the first time so you knew he'd love them just as much this time. Maybe it could even become a 'night before a game' tradition?

So then, you found yourself half naked--only clad in a skimpy, lacy purple lingerie bra & pantie set--seated in front of the large body mirror and tapping away on your camera as you changed up your poses to show off the parts of your body that Joe was obsessed with (your thighs, your breasts, your ass, the crook of your neck where he liked to mark his territory).

Joe got your photos a few moments ago, and he was losing his mind. Especially because you were so close to him right now, close enough for him to see you. Or was he close enough for you to see him?

"Fuck, Y/N," he whispered again as the growing erection in his purple shorts was becoming more and more visible. He needed to see you so badly, he couldn't control himself. Not when you were this close to him. Last time, he was a whole half hour away so he was mostly okay, but this time...this time it was a different story.

Joe opened his camera and snapped a photo of the tent in his pants, a cheeky grin on his face as he went back to your chat and responded to your photos.

Joe: i miss youuuuu

You: i miss youuuuu too, if you couldn't already tell by the photos ;)

He then attached the photo of the tent in his pants, typed up a silly caption, and sent it to you, wishing he could see your reaction in person.

Joe: image 📸

he misses you too 😋

Your eyes widened as you opened the photo and saw what he had just sent you, the silly caption that he typed with it making you bust out laughing.

"There is no fucking way," you laughed to yourself as you flipped onto your stomach and laughed even harder into the pillow as you imagined Joe taking that photo and typing up that stupidly adorable caption.

"I can't believe he just sent me that photo," you smiled to yourself, still not quite used to this part of your relationship. How could Joe be so sexy and adorably silly at be the same time? You went back to the texts and quickly typed something up to make sure he didn't think you left him hanging, playing along with his silliness.

You: i miss him too 😪

Joe raised an eyebrow at your sudden straightforwardness but was amused that you were playing along with him.

Joe: you and that damn purple lingerie are reallyyyy doing something to me

He scrolled back up to the photos you sent him, tapping on one that showed off your beautiful smile but also gave him a good view of your perfect breasts. "Fuckk," he shakily breathed out while throwing his head back onto the pillow as he placed his hand on the tent in his pants, the pressure that was building becoming too much for him.

Joe was obsessed with your chest. Whether it was laying on it after a tiring workout while you played with his hair or it was him leaving little love bites along your nipple while he was sending you straight to heaven with each thrust, that was his favorite place to be.

He needed to feel your lips on him again, he needed to feel your fingers scratching down his back, and he needed to feel you.

He needed to see you right now.

Joe quickly went back to the chat, this time hitting the Facetime button instead of texting you. You immediately picked up, a grin growing on your face as you saw his adorable flushed cheeks.

"You're needy tonight," you giggled.

"I need to see you," he said while running his fingers through his hair and moving his curls back. "Like really bad. I can't do this,".

"Joe, you know I can't," you said as you sat up on the bed, his eyes falling down as your body came into the frame. You weren't in the lingerie anymore, but you were wearing a slinky tank top which showed off your beautiful breasts.

"Baby, please," he pleaded. "I can't,".

"If I get caught on your floor, it'll be hell for both of us. Probably me more than you since you're the star of the show and they can't really do anything because it'll hurt everything," you said while moving your hair back.

"Nobody will give you hell, you're my girlfriend. Everyone knows that now," he smiled.

"I know, but being your girlfriend doesn't give me a free pass to bend the rules that every NFL team has to follow," you sighed.

You wanted to see him so bad, but you were scared that you'd get caught and didn't even want to think about what the consequences would be. They had NFL players stay at a hotel the night before a game for a reason--home or away--and it was to prevent any and all distractions and to prevent them from partaking in activities that would release the energy they needed for game day. You both were already pushing it when Joe booked you a room in the same hotel he was staying at, the Bengals Travel Coordinators were not super happy about it, but Joe being Joe somehow convinced them to let it slide just this once.

"Do you have the Mascot suit on you by any chance?" he giggled, referring to the first time you joked about sneaking into his room by trying to pass as the mascot.

"Damn, I think I left it in my other suitcase," you pouted, a soft chuckle coming from his mouth in return.

Although he was laughing with you, he was still serious as hell about getting you in his room one way or another.

"Y/N," he said, turning serious again. "Please. I just need to see you for a little. I'll make sure you won't get caught,".

"And how will you do that?" you asked him, part of you wanting to hear him out.

"You can't come up the elevator because we have staff guarding the it up here so that nobody can come up here other than Bengals personnel, but there are stairs that connect every floor and my room is just 3 doors down from the stairs on this floor. I know that they make the rounds around my hall and the hall on the other side so you'll just have to wait for them to turn the other way," he explained.

"Why does this sound easier than I thought? Was this all I had to do to see him?" you thought, contemplating what you should do.

You would be lying if you weren't as turned on as Joe was right now. That photo he sent you made think some things and feel some feelings but you ultimately came to the consensus that you needed him right now.

Your brain was fogging up with thoughts of Joe. Thoughts of his lips pressed against yours, his hands massaging your plush skin, the dirty sounds of pleasure leaving his lips, the mere sight of him on the brink of coming undone. He was the only thing you could think about right now. With the way your heart was pounding in your chest and the way the heat was slowly rising up your body, you were either two seconds away from passing out or two seconds away from saying something that would really set you both off.

"Please," he begged again, a gush of wetness pooling at your core because of his husky voice.

"Fuck it," you whispered, you needed Joe. "I’ll be there in a little bit," you said as you got up and hastily searched for your clothes.

Joe immediately sat up on the bed, a huge satisfied grin on his face as a thrill shot up his spine. "I love you," he smiled.

"I love you too much, that's why I'm doing this," you giggled as you placed your phone down on the dresser and quickly slipped on your flimsy sleep shorts and tank top. "I'll see you in a few, okay?" you said to him once you picked up the phone again.

"Be careful," he said before you gave him a quick nod and hung up, then placed your phone back onto the table so you could slide your Uggs on. You grabbed your room's keycard and took a deep breath before opening the door.

About 10 minutes later, you were slowly climbing up the stairs as you were hot, sweaty, and out of breath. "W-what the fuck," you sighed as you stopped to collect your breath. "I need to go to the gym more," you panted, rolling your eyes when you saw that you were only on floor 7 and still had 4 more to go and you already climbed up 4 flights of stairs.

"Only for Joe," you laughed as you continued up the stairs. You wouldn't be caught dead doing this for another man, but for Joe? Anything. You'd move planets for the person that you've been in love with for 9 years if he asked you to, and you had the comfort of knowing that he would do the exact same for you.

Another 10 minutes later, you finally made it to the 11th floor.

"Holy fuck," you said while wiping the thin layer of sweat off your forehead, quickly crouching down once you saw one of the Bengals staff members through the little window in the door. "Fuck," you whispered as you peeked your head up to see if they saw you or not, which they didn't.

"Any minute now," you whispered, waiting for them to turn around and go down the other hallway.

You watched carefully for about two minutes, getting impatient as they took their sweet time before you saw them turn around and start walking down to the other hallway.

"Finally," you whispered to yourself as you stood up and quietly twisted the door handle, carefully stepping out into the hallway before gently shutting the door behind you.

You slowly walked down the hallway, counting 3 doors down from the stairs but realizing Joe never told you which door 3 doors down was his room.

You reached for your phone to text him but were met with an empty pocket. A frustrated sigh leaves your lips when you realize you left your phone on the table.

"Ugh. Left or Right?" you whispered to yourself as you looked back and forth between the doors. "This is like a game of roulette," you soughed. You eventually chose the left door, accepting that if you were wrong you would quickly leave the floor with your tail between your legs and go back down 8 flights of stairs to your room.

"Okay," you breathed out before making your hand into a fist and knocking on the door, in an uber-specific pattern.

Two quick knocks, "Knock-Knock", matching the start of the chorus with a steady beat.

Pause for 1 second.

One slow Knock "Knock", reflects the continuation of the melody.

Pause for 1 second.

Two quick knocks, "Knock-knock", follows the rhythm as the chorus progresses.

Pause for 1 second.

Two quick knocks, "Knock-Knock", ends the pattern in sync with the final beats of the chorus.

It aligned with the Chorus of the song "Night Changes" by One Direction, a song you and Joe were obsessed with back at OSU. A song you made a special knocking sequence to for times you showed up at each other's rooms unannounced for whatever reason. You made this special sequence up because there were times you didn't want to see other or hang out with other people, but you always wanted to see each other no matter the circumstance. This knocking sequence always let you both know who was at the door.

"Hm, that's ironic," you giggled as you remembered the Chorus of the song.

"We're only getting older baby and I been thinking about it lately, Does it ever drive you crazy just how fast the night changes, Everything that you've ever dreamed of, Disappearing when you wake up, But there's nothing to be afraid of even when the night changes, It will never change me and you,".

It did drive you crazy just how fast the night changed for you and Joe. Everything around you changed in the past 9 years--your ages, your careers, your lifestyles, your relationships--but the one thing that never changed was you and Joe.

And that was the one thing that was never going to change.

While you were lost in thought, you felt the door open as a whiff of air hit your face, your precious 6’4 boyfriend standing right in front of you.

"Oh thank god," you said, letting out a relieved sigh before you felt Joe grab your hand and yank you into the room, quickly closing the door before he leaned down and smashed his lips against yours. You were a bit taken aback by the intensity of the kiss, but it only took you 5 seconds to melt in Joe’s arms and lose your cool. His hands were firmly placed on your waist, the pads of his fingers massaging the soft skin of your hips, as he backed you both up to the couch across the room.

He felt the back of his knees hit the couch before he pulled away from the kiss and plopped down, spreading his legs extremely wide as he patted his lap for you to sit down. "Come here," he smirked, you gave him a quick nod before placing a knee on either side of his thighs and sitting down in his comfortable lap, the hardness underneath you making your hormones take over.

You cupped his face with your hands and pulled his face closer to yours, capturing his perfectly pink lips in another kiss. His hands landed on your waistline again, "Mm, I haven't heard that knock in years," he said in between the kiss.

"I had to let you know it was me," you whispered as you slid your lips to the corner of his mouth, peppering wet kisses up his jaw as his hands slid underneath the flimsy fabric of your tank top.

"I missed you," he rasped as you felt his other hand land on the back of your head, pulling you right back to his lips.

His hand then moved to the straps of your tank top, slowly pulling one down as he pulled away and moved his lips to your collarbone.

"Joe," you quietly moaned as you tilted your head to the side, exposing more of your neck for him to worship. You felt him attach his lips to his favorite spot on your neck, rhythmically sucking and biting the skin as he marked his territory--a special reminder to those who didn't know who you belonged to.

"Baby," you breathed out, grabbing his head by his hair and pulling him back up to your lips, your noses bumping into each other as your tongues tangled in each other's mouths. It was driving you insane, the more his hands moved around your body the more desperate to feel him everywhere you got. You wanted him to rip your clothes off and have you right then and there, but you were playing a risky game. If anyone walked past his door, they would 100% hear you two going at it.

His hands dropped down to your ass, kneading the flesh with his large veiny hands as he began to rock you back and forth in his lap. You instantly pulled away, taking note of how his big blue eyes were screaming 'fuck me' at you right now.

"Joe, we can't," you breathlessly said, his movements not stopping at your hesitance.

You feel him grab your waist again, scooching you over so that you are now straddling one of his thick, muscular thighs and not his lap. "Yes, we can," he whispered in your ear, heat pooling in your stomach as you feel his large thigh against your aching clit.

Joe continues to slowly rock you back and forth against his thigh, a tingling sensation all over your body as your clothed clit rubbed against his thigh; the flimsy fabric of your shorts practically had you bare against his leg. You leaned your head back as you let out a moan that was a little louder than you both preferred.

"Fuck," you whined at the stimulation his thigh was giving you. Joe lifted one of his hands to cover your mouth, "Shh, baby. Another one of those and this will be over a lot faster than we want, and it won't have a nice ending either," he warned as you looked back down at him.

You gave him a nod as you continued to move back and forth against his thigh, his purple shorts riding further and further up his leg because of your movements. The wetness from your core was seeping out of your underwear, and your rocking hips were spreading it along his thigh.

God, you loved his thighs. They were so thick and muscular and the perfect seat. Whenever you saw photos of Joe doing his typical man-spread, you lost it. The thighs were always the highlight of the show, not his face, not his arms, his thighs.

"That's it, baby," he said while guiding you back and forth, somehow enjoying this even more than you were even though he was receiving no stimulation from this.

"Joe," you whimpered, his big hand muffling your moan, feeling him bounce his leg underneath you which made your moans come out in short gasps. "J- Joe," you moaned again, your belly fluttering at the new movement.

You lifted your hand and moved his hand off your mouth, then leaned in and captured his lips in another kiss to hopefully stifle your moans.

Joe was taking part in a mental battle right now, trying to fight off the urge to take you to the bed in front of him and fuck you into oblivion. He needed to feel you more than he already was, but if he did you both would get caught very quickly.

Suddenly, an idea popped into his head that could solve your problems--the shower.

Nobody would be able to hear you both in the bathroom, especially with the running water.

He decided to hold off on that for a few minutes, allowing you to continue to do what you needed to feel your rapidly building high. He pulled away from the kiss again, lifting your head with his hand, "Look at me, Y/N," he whispered. His thumb stroked your bottom lip as he looked intensely into your glossy eyes, "Keep going," he encouraged, your movements getting faster against his thigh.

"Joe, I'm so close," you quietly whimpered, your clit pressed firmly against his thigh as the band in your belly tightened. You ran your hands up his arms, then gripped his shoulders as you continued to ride his thigh, your body starting to tremble on top of him as his cock grew harder at the feeling of wetness spreading along his leg.

"That's it, that's my fucking girl...you're so fucking sexy riding me like this," he whispered in your ear, his hands wandering along your body again as he pressed a kiss to your ear before lightly biting your earlobe. “Come for me, come on my thigh,” he whispered.

"Joe," you moaned loudly, dropping your head to the crook of his neck as you picked up the pace, your pleasure just a few seconds away. There was truly no place you'd rather be right now than the comfortable embrace of Joe's arms. This was your home. He was your home.

You bit down on the tan skin of his neck to stifle your moan, knowing that this one would be particularly loud as you let yourself go. "Mmph, Joe," you moaned as you felt the band in your tummy snap, your core gushing with wetness as most of it seeped out onto his leg.

"Fuck, Y/N," Joe breathed out, feeling a cool moisture pooling on his thigh as you quivered above him. "Baby, I need you," he whispered in your ear, your face coming back up from the crook of his neck.

"Joe, I- I told you, we c- can't," you choked out, aftershocks of your high washing over you.

"We can in there," he said as he motioned to the bathroom with his head.

All the hesitance and apprehension left your head about 4 minutes ago, so you honestly could not care less about what would unfold once you got in the bathroom. You didn't care if you got caught, as risky as that sounded. "Okay," you nodded, Joe immediately got up from the couch with you in his lap, his hands firmly placed on your ass as you wrapped your legs around him. You rested your cheek against his chest, whispering "I love you" to him in which he pressed a loving kiss to your forehead in return.

A few minutes later, you were in the bathroom, completely bare as the hot water of the shower was falling around you. You were pressed up against the cool glass of the shower door as Joe was spending some more time around your neck, especially at his favorite spot.

Your fingers played with his wet curls as you used them to pull his face back up to yours so that you could kiss him again. "We have to be quick," you mumbled in between the kiss. "I have to get out of here before lights out,".

"Okay," Joe nodded, his hands reaching down to cup your ass, hoisting you up as you wrapped your legs around his thick body. "Fuck, I needed this," he sighed as he looked deeply into your eyes again. "I needed you,".

"Well, it's a good thing I'm here then," you smirked before pulling him back for another kiss, this one way messier and needier than the others.

After another minute of attacking each other's swollen lips, Joe lined his rock-hard cock with your already-soaked core, thrusting all the way inside as you let out a loud moan and threw your head back against the glass.

"Ah, Joe," you hissed, the feeling of him filling you up all the way still new even though you'd done this quite a few times since December.

"Fuck, Y/N," Joe groaned as he felt your walls wrap around his thick shaft, his hips snapping into yours after a few seconds of getting comfortable.

"Oh my god," you cried out after you felt his cock grazing your g-spot, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"Yeah? You like that?" Joe panted in your ear after giving you another hard thrust which made him hit the spot.

"Yeah," you whimpered, his cock continuing to slam into your cervix, making you re-think your entire existence. The way he was going about this was driven by pure lust, love, and need. This was exactly what he needed right now, and you were giving it to him with open arms; and open legs.

You were the most addictive thing on this earth, he could never stay away from you and if he tried, he'd have withdrawals. For example, if you didn't sneak into his room, he would've had all this pent-up energy inside of him that would most likely turn into anxiety for tomorrow's game. But it wasn't, thanks to you.

For most, this would be a distraction. But for Joe, this was the best way to relax. The perfect way to collect himself, he just needed to be with you. You always made him lose his worries, lose his nerves, and make him calm down. You were exactly what he needed.

And you almost said 'No' to coming up to his room, pathetic.

A few minutes later, Joe leaned back a little and leaned down, sucking your nipple into his mouth as he rhythmically rolled his hips into yours, making sure that he touched every spot on your body that he loved.

"Don't stop, Joe. Don't ever stop," you cried out, feeling your second high building in your stomach as he continued to pound into you. You ran your nails along his back, lightly digging into the skin while Joe hissed around your breast at the burning sensation he was feeling.

After a few moments of showing your perfect breasts some love, he moved back up to your face, "Y/N, you feel so good," he moaned.

The sights and sounds of his flushed cheeks, tousled & wet curls, and open-mouthed moans drove you insane.

You felt your legs starting to burn from the rough thrusts of his cock, also because of what transpired on the couch earlier. "Babe, I'm close," you panted as you gripped his broad shoulders.

"Hang on for me," he softly whined, picking up the pace of his deep thrusts which sent you straight over the edge, your walls tightening around his veiny cock.

"Oh my fucking-," you moaned before you felt the tip of his cock hit a spot he hadn't hit before, causing your orgasm to rip through your body like a strike of lightning. "Joe!" you screamed as you grabbed his wet curls and tightly pulled on them.

"Y/N," Joe panted as he dropped his head to the crook of your neck, your walls convulsing around his twitching cock. "Fuck, I'm," he choked out, his orgasm begging to be released.

"I know, I know," you soothed as you rubbed his back while coming down from your high. "I'm here," you said while kissing his reddened cheek. "I'm right here,"

A few more thrusts later, you felt him let go as your walls were coated with warm spurts of his cum, Joe continuing to whimper and moan into your ear as he felt his high come over him. "F- Fuck, you're incredible,".

"I love you," he panted, trying to catch his breath as he gently let go of your legs and set you back on the ground, your knees buckling as you fell right into him. "Woah, I got you," he smiled as he wrapped his arms around you.

"I love you," you giggled as you clung onto him, the hot water falling on both of you making you feel even more refreshed than your previous orgasms.

About 10 minutes later, you both dried each other off and made it out of the shower. You slipped your clothes back on before brushing your wet hair in the mirror while Joe changed into a fresh pair of shorts behind you, your eyes widening at the red scratches on his back.

"Oh, shit," you gasped as you flipped around to look at his back. "I'm sorry,".

"No need to say sorry, princess," he smiled. "I like it when you leave a mark," he winked.

"But the guys are probably going to give you shit for it," you frowned. "They'll see that those are fresh and figure it out,".

"If the guys find out, they'll be too busy bitchin' about how it's not fair for them to not be able to see their girls before a game to care that you broke about a dozen league rules," he laughed. "Besides," he added as he placed his hands on your waist and flipped you around so that you were facing the mirror again. "I left plenty of marks on you," he said while resting his chin on your shoulder and moving your wet hair to the back to show off your neck, a prominent purple love bite on your neck with a few small, faint ones scattered around it.

"Good thing I brought extra concealer," you giggled as you felt Joe pepper kisses along your neck.

"Mhmm," he hummed as he looked back up and met your tired eyes in the mirror. "I still can't believe you actually snuck up here. We should do this more often next season,".

"Woahhh, slow down, Burrow. I had to climb 8 flights of stairs to get up here. My legs are about to snap in half and I have 8 more flights to go down to go back to my room. This is def a once in a once-in-a-blue-moon deal," you nodded. "Stairs are not my thing,".

"Fine," he sighed, earning a pleased smile from you. "I'll be looking forward to the next time we get to repeat this little rendezvous, though,".

"I know you will," you winked before looking up at the clock, seeing that it was almost time for you to make your sneaky exit. "I should get going," you said as you flipped around in his hold.

"Okay," he nodded, tucking your wet hair behind your ear.

"I'll see you at the game tomorrow, okay?" you nodded.

"Yeah," Joe nodded again while giving you a soft look with his eyes.

"I want you to know that no matter what happens tomorrow night, I'm so proud of you, Joe. You've truly had one of the best years since you've been in the league and regardless of what goes down tomorrow, you did your best and went above and beyond. I love you so much and I'm so happy and proud of you," you smiled while you cupped his cheek and pulled his face down to press a kiss to the crown of his forehead.

"Thank you, Y/N. That really means a lot," he said while letting out a deep breath. "I love you. Thank you for being here," he said while leaning in for a sweet, purely innocent kiss.

"I'm always here," you said against his swollen lips after you pulled away.

After a few more minutes of saying goodbye to each other, you took a peek outside the hallway to see if the coast was clear; which it was.

You stepped outside into the hall, slowly and quietly inching towards the door to the stairs before you heard a familiar voice call your name behind you. "Y/N?" the deep voice spoke up.

"Fuck. Ja'marr," you whispered to yourself, instantly recognizing the voice and turning around.

"Y/N? What the hell are you doing up here?" he loudly said as he walked closer to you.

"I....uh....," you mumbled, not being able to come up with an excuse for why you were on this floor.

"Wait a second," he said as he looked at your wet hair, the purple spots on your neck which you clearly couldn't cover since your makeup was in your room, and your blissed-out facial expression and glow.

"Ain't no fuckin' way," he said, bursting out laughing as he realized he just caught you in a walk of shame. "No fucking wayyyy,".

"It's not what you think," you nervously shook your head.

While you were attempting to come up with an excuse, Joe opened his door because he heard a ruckus outside and decided to see what was going on, but he froze at the doorstep once he saw both you and Ja'marr look back at him.

"Oh my god," he said while laughing harder once he saw Joe's wet hair matching your wet hair. "You two seriously...right now...at the team hotel...oh my GOD," he said, his entire body shaking at how hard he was laughing.

"Ja'marr please don't tell anyone," you begged as you looked over at Joe.

"Joe, you do realize she probably just broke about a dozen rules by doing this, right?" Ja'marr asked while looking back at him.

"It was actually my idea," Joe said while scratching his neck, his cheeks turning red out of embarrassment.

"Man, why you so fuckin' horny lately?" Ja'marr shook his head, a laugh coming from your lips as you saw Joe's cheeks turn even more red. "I get you have a hot girlfriend and you're making up for 9 years worth of sex, blah, blah--not to be weird--but damn Joe, keep that shit in your pants till you get home," he lectured.

"Yeah, Joe. Keep it in your pants," you teased as you gave him a wink.

"Y/N, please. Spare me," Joe playfully rolled his eyes. "Maybe save the lingerie pics for when we get back home then,".

Your jaw fell open at his lack of filter considering you were with Ja'marr right now.

"Okayyy, I don't need to be a part of this conversation," he laughed. "Yall can have your lovers quarrel later. We have 5 minutes before lights out and the staff comes to check the rooms, Joe. So Y/N needs to get outta here or you're both fucked,".

"Well, I was just leaving until you stopped me," you huffed.

"Well, your secret is safe with me...for now," he grinned. "Yall owe me, remember that," he said while pointing at you two.

"You got it," you laughed as you gave him a salute. "I'm gonna go now," you said while looking back at Joe, a small smile on his lips as if he was enjoying this situation.

"Bye, Y/N," Ja'marr waved like a little kid.

"Bye, Ja'marr," you laughed before looking back at Joe.

"Bye, J. I love you and remember what I said earlier," you said while shooting him a loving smile.

"I love you too, and I will, " he smiled while giving you a small wave.

"Man, are yall still talking dirty right now? For real? 'Remember what I said earlier?' No. Joe don't need to remember whatever the fuck you whispered in his ear while going at it," Ja'marr said with a disgusted look on his face.

"That's not what I-...you know what? Never mind," you said while throwing your hands up and turning around to open the door to the staircase, a smile tugging at your lips as you heard Ja'marr and Joe laugh behind you while you closed the door behind you and slowly made your way down the stairs.

"Man, yall are really something," Ja'marr said when he walked back over to Joe's doorstep.

"What do you expect me to do," Joe shrugged. "I've been after her for 9 years. Let me have my fun with my girlfriend,".

"Have fun, but don't have too much fun," Ja'marr laughed as he patted Joe's shoulder and walked back to his room.

"That's considered too much fun? Please," Joe whispered to himself while turning around and going back into his room. "We're just getting started," he said with a content grin on his face.

--The End--

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #ybwm #joe burrow fic #joeburrow #nfl imagine

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mountainficss · 4 months ago

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Hiii pretty! I love your mind honestly💖 you wrote about the puppie threesome and it was soooo freaking good!!! it got me thinking about threesome with two kitty cats... woozi and wonwoo sub kittens who aren't very physical until they're needy 😫😫😫😫

!! mentions of: sub!jihoon, sub!wonwoo, threesome, unprotected sex, teasing, nipple play

ahhh thank you sooo much i am so glad you enjoyed it! that makes me so happy <3 and omg i LOVE this idea anon.

i looove thinking about the kitty duo. jihoon and wonwoo would naturally be very mellow and easygoing, not needing much to be satisfied. jihoon would enjoy staying in the peaceful quiet of your home, easily finding things to keep him entertained. wonwoo would also enjoy the calming atmosphere of your apartment, finding it the perfect place to wind down and play games on his computer. the both of them can be a bit independent, but they’d always appreciate the time they spend with you. they definitely love the quality time more than anything, and just being able to be around you would make them very happy kitties. on their regular days, they wouldn’t need more than a sweet kiss to get them by (they’d never be opposed to more of course; they’re just not openly touchy). they also might go out of their way to start little convos with you just because they love you and love talking to you :)

on days where they’re needy, you would notice the difference in behavior right away. they’re very subtle about their delivery, but it doesn’t take much for you to tell since they’re not usually touchy. when you’re in the kitchen, jihoon might graze his hands over your body more often than usual under the guise of getting around you. might even let his hands hover on your waist, even giving it a small squeeze before letting you go. he’d also sit closer to you than normal when you’re seated on the couch, lacing his fingers carefully with yours and running his thumb over your knuckles. you’d shoot him a knowing glance, but would only be met with a flustered jihoon who seemed set on avoiding your gaze. wonwoo would act in a similar fashion, finding any excuse to touch you. he’d beg you to try the new computer game he downloaded, having you sit at his desk and play while he watches. he’d even place his hands over yours, guiding them over the correct keys. wonwoo would also hover behind you in the bathroom when you’re applying your skincare, settling his chin on your shoulder and gazing at you in the mirror. you’d find his clingy behavior a bit silly if he hadn’t turned his head and buried his face into your neck, giving the skin a few heated pecks.

your apartment would practically be buzzing with sexual tension by the end of the day, and you’d become irritated knowing that your two pretty kitties aren’t sprawled out beneath you right this instant. so you’d take matters into your own hands, snatching them both by the collars of their shirts and dragging them to your bedroom. you’d strip without any words, and the pretty boys would follow your lead with no questions asked. they’d try to be discreet about it, but they love being under your control. jihoon might be a bit huffy and wonwoo a bit timid, but when it comes to you and your pleasure they’d immediately drop to their knees for you.

you’d decide on toying with jihoon first, always finding his pouty expression and flushed cheeks adorable. jihoon would lie beneath you, his pretty pale skin completely exposed. you’d straddle him, hovering over his length and simply grinding down once. wonwoo would be seated right behind you, watching over your shoulder as you use jihoon and fisting the blankets below him. jihoon would let out the tiniest of whimpers, trying his hardest to hold back his embarrassing sounds as you grind your wet heat against him. you’d run your fingers over his hardened nipples, relishing in the way jihoon flinches beneath you. “aww, jihoonie. feels too good, hm?” you’d tease him, cupping his face gently and rubbing a thumb across his heated skin. “want me to use you an’ fuck you, right jihoonie? bet it feels good to let go,” you’d continue, watching his face become even redder at your dirty words. he’d always get so adorably pouty when you said such vulgar things, because he knew they were true. “s-stop,” he’d whine, eyes rolling back as you slide his throbbing length into your hole slowly. he’d let out a wanton moan, his hands shooting up to your hips and grasping the flesh harshly. he’d occasionally buck his hips up into you, unable to resist you and needing to feel more. “you might even be needier than wonwoo, baby,” you’d coo, glancing behind you to look at wonwoo’s cute expression. his eyes were widened and glassy, hands still twisted in the sheets in an attempt to control himself. jihoon would just let out another frustrated whine, face becoming increasingly red from your teasing. he hated and loved when you teased him; he’d never admit to liking the muddled feelings of embarrassment and arousal every time you spoke to him.

you’d circle your hips, suddenly bouncing harshly on his length and pulling a surprised moan from sweet jihoon. he’d try his best to hold back his whimpers, but lewd sounds would just keep slipping from his lips uncontrollably as you pleasure him. you could feel wonwoo’s warm presence behind you, and you’d reach back with one hand to grab a fistful of his hair. wonwoo would moan gently, his hands gravitating towards your waist and gripping softly. he loved seeing the way you bounced on jihoon, and watching the both of you pleasure each other would make wonwoo’s cock twitch with want. you could feel wonwoo’s erection against you, smiling to yourself as you continued to ruin jihoon. jihoon would be a moaning mess as he gets closer and closer to his release, his hands getting restless as they travel up and down your body. “c-cumming…” jihoon would trail helplessly, unable to hold back his orgasm and shooting ropes inside of you. you’d slow your pace a bit, helping him ride out his high and making sure his release stays stuffed in your hole. “such a good kitty, jihoonie,” you’d coo, admiring his gorgeous blissed out expression. when you feel jihoon soften inside you, you’d slide off of his cock, immediately sinking down onto wonwoo’s erection with no warning. you’d grind down hard against him, feeling his grip on your waist tighten as jihoon just watches dazedly. you were slick with jihoon’s previous release and your own arousal, and it was easy for you to completely envelop wonwoo’s length. wonwoo would bite back a groan, eventually giving up as you continue your grinding. “ready for your turn, kitty~?” you’d smirk, glancing back at wonwoo and giving him your prettiest smile. wonwoo would nod eagerly, unconsciously bucking his hips up into yours at the pet name.

out of every other activity, playing with your needy kitties would be your favorite pastime <3

taglist: @jeonghanpill , @bangantokchy , @caratboy , @bewoyewo , @luvseungcheol , @wonvsmile , @haolovre , @aaniag , @writingbarnes , @dokyeomkyeom , @allieyaaa

#thoughts #seventeen smut #seventeen #smut #svt smut #sub!idol #svt #woozi #wonwoo #lee jihoon #jeon wonwoo #woozi smut #wonwoo smut #mountainficss

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realcube · 15 days ago

Text

dilf december

day twenty-one ⭑ doppo kunikida ⭑ naughty list ?!

tw: nsfw minors dni, sexting, heavy implact play and degradation

everything is so boring when you are home alone.

workload at the ADA suprisingly seems to surge around the holiday season, meaning kunikida has to stick around at the office for longer, leaving you in the house all alone, with nothing to do. the place was spotless, since you had already done every chore conceivable. as for preparing dinner, it made more sense to begin once kunikida messaged you saying that he was on his way home, that way it will be nice and hot upon his arrival.

hence that left you with an hour, in which you had nothing to do but mope around. of course you had sources of entertainment in your home, like a tv and a console, but neither really called to you.

however, the messenger app on your phone did.

you rushed to your shared bedroom and spent the an hour throwing on different sets of lignerie and negligees you owned, posing for all sorts of seductive photos in the full length mirror. each position you took was even more raunchy and revealing than the prior. some were silly and light-hearted, while others were intense and could believably be found on the cover of a porn mag.

and you recklessly sent image after image after image, not thinking much of it. you assumed that his phone would be on silent during office hours, then he would be in for a little treat when he clocked out, but you couldn't have been more wrong.

you realise your mistake when your husband comes storming in to the house. while leaning against the bannister of the staircase in the foyer, you attempt to welcome him home in a seductive manner — dressed in a see-through gossamer negligee — but he is entirely dismissive of you; focussed on the removal of his jacket and neatly hanging it up on the coat rack, not paying your lewd antics any mind.

once he has completed all his routine duties upon entering the house — such as taking off his shoes and placing his work bag aside — the air in the room turns cold as his piercing stare finally lands upon your scantily clad form.

he storms towards you with an unwaveringly cruel glint in his eye, and before you have a moment to react, he scoops you up in his arm and hauls you upstairs to your shared bedroom.

"kunikida! what're you doing?" you yelp, not bothering to struggle against his strong grasp. he's quite strong so he is able to pick you up with a single arm, carrying you under his arm and hauling you to the bedroom in a similar fashion to the way a farmer would carry a chicken.

"what are you doing, is the better question." he corrects sternly, in the displeased and aggravated tone that you know all too well, "sending me all those lewd photographs while you knew i was at work."

clearly you have sent him on a tirade, so once you finally arrive at the bedroom and he carelessly throws you onto the bed, you know better than to argue and simply listen, innocently gazing up at him through your lashes to hopefully soften the blow.

"i see you are messaging me so i open my phone — thinking it was an emergency — but no, your entire nude body is now covering my screen! you're lucky i was in my office, what if i was in a meeting and other people saw that?" he huffs, pacing back and forth across the length of the bedroom, yelling out into the emptiness of the room opposed to directly at you. though he would shoot you the occassional pointed glare. "not only that, but know that i've seen the images, i have to conceal my, uh, feelings towards them. i couldn't get up out of my office chair for half an hour, (y/n)!"

you fail to quell a snicker at the thought of kunikida being chair-bound due to a boner, which causes him to halt in his tracks and stare at you with a dumbfounded expression. "is this funny to you?" he asks, deadpan.

before you can even open your mouth to croak out a response, kunikida hastily approaches you on the bed, harshly grabbing at your thigh, "because it's not. you should know better than to send me such depraved images during work hours, but you clearly you need a reminder." he tells you through gritted teeth. then, he uses his grip on your thigh to flip you over, so you are lay on your stomach, and pull you down so you are bent over the edge of bed; with your stomach flat against the sheets and your legs hanging off the side.

he runs his big hand over the flesh off your ass, which is stuck out all pretty for him and is partially veiled under the gossamer of your negligee, but mostly on display, especially once kunikida has pushed the fabric aside as he caressed your ass.

his fingers then begin to explore between your folds, barely inhibited by the embarrassingly thin string of your thong. the rough pads of his fingers rub lazy circles over your soaked labia and clit. "so wet already.." a precise balance of fast and slow to make you squirm yet desperate for more stimulation, which he would happily deny as he pull his hand away from your cunt, licking his fingers clean.

"when did you become such a slut?" he spits, his palm making firm with your ass he does so. the loud 'slap' noise resonating throughout the room, shortly followed by your incoherent whimpers and sobs that you feebly try to choke back.

"please.." you whine, knuckles paling as you grip the cotton covers, "i won't do it again."

"yes, you will." he says defnitively, "because you're just a little attention whore." his sentence is puntuated with another hard slap on the ass, provoking a guttural gasp from you as a reaction to the painful impact.

"you'll do anything for me to play with this needy pussy, huh?" he asks while using the heel of his hand to carelessly rub your folds for a moment, then immediately slap your cunt afterwards, sending electric jolts of pleasure and pain up your spine and through your stomach.

"so here is all the attention you so desperately need." another spank hits your ass; the sting causes you to wince and moan in response.

"that feel good, princess?" he asks, mostly sardonically, his relentless hand spanking your ass repeatedly, each time more brutual than the last, surely searing a burning handprint into your skin. it hurt more each time, hinted at by your quiet whimpers and mewls. but also your pussy would spit out more arousal with each intense impact, which gave mixed signals.

you had lost count of the amount of spanks before he eventually paused, stroking your aching cheeks as he idled, "i asked you a question."

previously you were unable to answer the question because you were preoccupied with choking out faint pleas and cries, but now that he has halted his ruthless attack on your ass, you are able to stutter, "it felt good, sweetie." your face is consumed by the heat of the covers which you bury yourself into.

"good.." he muses, continuing to gently caress your sore skin, "you know i only do this because i care. so much. i could never ignore a message that you send me; i worry far too much about you to do that, so i have to view it. and if i open it in front of my co-workers, i would hate it if they saw something meant for my eyes only. understand, sweetheart?"

"mhm.." you hum. pleased with the kind and relaxed way he was speaking to you, but his change in tone was so sudden that it could've gave you whiplash. not that you were complaining.

"i enjoyed the photos. you are so gorgeous, (y/n). don't stop taking them." he softly squeezes the fat of your thigh and asks, "does it hurt badly?"

"kinda." you reply timidly.

he bends over and plants a kiss your ass, peppering them over your warm skin before straightening himself. "i'll be gentler next time." his hand wanders from your ass, down between your thighs to carefully poke at your clit, "now, let's take care of my needy girl.."

#bsd kunikida #kunikida doppo #bungou stray dogs kunikida #kunikida x reader #kunikida x you #kunikida bsd #kunikida smut #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs smut #👾nsfw #dilf⭑december

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ollypopwrites · 7 months ago

Text

Happy Pride Month I am nothing but a sappy bisexual who wants to make love to her video game wife.

Karlach pre-engine fix mutual masturbation.

Karlach x F!Reader

CW: 18+ (MDNI), dirty talk, slight switchy dynamics. Horny and sweet, just like our fiery friend.

❤️‍🔥 you just want some alone time with her not even sexual you just like being around her

❤️‍🔥 sitting in her tent with the flap only barely closed cuz of the heat but your determined to withstand it

❤️‍🔥 but gods it’s hot in there so you remove your shirt. You’re all sweaty and in your underclothes and trousers and now it’s even HOTTER when you notice Karlach’s starting to burn blue

❤️‍🔥 she makes a needy noise “you’re killing me soldier”

❤️‍🔥 “sorry” you say sheepishly, “should I go?”

❤️‍🔥 “don’t you fucking dare.”

❤️‍🔥 it’s torture for her. You’re soooo close, close enough to touch, but she just can’t and even though she’s literally playing with fire somehow it’s worse to think of you leaving

❤️‍🔥 she just crosses her legs stretched out in front of her and her tail wraps around herself tight, trying to maintain self-control

❤️‍🔥 her reaction excites you and you can’t help but speak. “you always ask what I would do if I could touch you,” you lick your lips as a bead of sweat drips down your temple and onto your neck, her eyes watching it as it goes. “But what would you do if you could touch me?”

❤️‍🔥 “everything. I’d do it all.”

❤️‍🔥 she sounds so different. She’s always loud and joyful and silly, but now her voice is so much lower and rougher. You can tell how badly she wants you just by the tone.

❤️‍🔥 “tell me.”

❤️‍🔥 “I want to lick the sweat off your neck there,” her eyes are glued to the spot. She blinks a couple times, “we’re playing a dangerous game here, baby.”

❤️‍🔥 your smile feels wicked as it spreads on your lips. “Live a little,” you tease.

❤️‍🔥 “I’ll burn you,” she says, truly tormented. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

❤️‍🔥 “you won’t.” At her confused look you bite your lip. “You stay over there and I’ll stay here.”

❤️‍🔥 it takes her a minute to understand what you mean ( 8 INT + horny brain, she’s doing her best) but she groans and grins “gods you’re a genius.”

❤️‍🔥 “tell me where you want to touch me” you don’t mind taking the lead, it’s been years since she could entertain the idea of a lover, years since she could experience anything like this with someone else — it’s okay if she needs some help figuring it out again

❤️‍🔥 “I’d touch your face first,” she tells you, and you caress your hand over your own cheek, “touch your lips” you drag your middle finger over the sensitive skin

❤️‍🔥 “take your hand, kiss the palm” you instruct, and when she does you say, “close your eyes.”

❤️‍🔥 she just holds her hand there for a moment eyes screwed shut, you can hear her lips smack against the palm of her hand. She makes another quiet noise, and you let her enjoy the image of it for a moment.

❤️‍🔥 “I’d rip that top off.” She says once her eyes open, gaze glued to your chest. You don’t rip it, but you do remove the last piece of clothing keeping your breasts from her view. For a moment she just stares.

❤️‍🔥 “grab them,” it’s half of a demand, half of a plea, and you do as she asks. Grabbing your tits in your hands, squeezing and massaging them. Karlach’s nearly panting, as she tugs down her own top. You admire the glow of her skin, blue against red in a beautiful contrast, and the way her nipples are already hard.

❤️‍🔥 “play with - I wanna play with your nipples,” she breathes, her own hand coming up to her chest. “Do you like that?”

❤️‍🔥 you nod, a white hot flash of pleasure shooting down your spine as you pinch the the soft skin. Your head tilts back, and you rub your legs together for some friction. “Are they soft? Gods, I bet they’re soft.”

❤️‍🔥 “they are,” you breathe, eyes opening to watch her mirror your movements, little noises of pleasure and heavy breathing akin to how she does in a fight making the space feel hazy. You’d never be able to watch her fight again without getting wet, the dark focus in her eyes looks so similar, the rough grunts and bright heat you can feel radiating off of her all too familiar

❤️‍🔥 “pants, take ‘em off,” she says.

❤️‍🔥 you both wriggle around on the ground, careful not to touch as you take off the remainder of your clothes. It feels good, the heat in the tent is overwhelming but you find it adds to the excitement of it. You feel loose, relaxed and now that there’s no sweat slick clothes sticking to your skin, it’s comfortable.

❤️‍🔥 “you’re so gorgeous,” she huffs. “It’s not fair. I just want to touch you.”

❤️‍🔥 “trust me,” you reply, eyes roving over all of her muscle, all the scars and marks and infernal ridges of her skin, “I know what you mean.”

❤️‍🔥 “open your legs for me, darling,” she says, and immediately you have to swallow past a dry throat. She’s getting more used to it now, she’s feeling confident, and knows exactly what she wants.

❤️‍🔥 you spread your legs, exposing your wet cunt for her, and she bites at her lip. She does the same and you want to bury your face there, let her ride your tongue for as long as she likes, to start claiming back years of pleasure that was she was denied.

❤️‍🔥 “I wanna kiss a trail down to that pussy, baby,” she breathes. “I want to taste all of you.” You tickle your hand down your torso, her watching as you do. Her hands twitch on top of her thighs.

❤️‍🔥 “you can touch yourself,” you remind her. “It’s okay.”

❤️‍🔥 “together.” Is all she can seem to find the brainpower to elaborate on.

❤️‍🔥 you nod, dipping your fingers between your legs, watching as she rubs the seam between her legs but never dips her fingers inside. You spread your lower lips, showing her all of you, the lewdness of the gesture and the way her jaw drops making you twitch

❤️‍🔥 “are you wet?” She asks. “For me?”

❤️‍🔥 to prove it to her you rub through your folds, the wet sounds almost drowned out by the sound of heavy breathing but Karlach is pinpointed into every move and sound you make, and she hisses at it. “Fuck, you dirty girl. Soaked for me. Good.”

❤️‍🔥 oh. Well. You hadn’t expect her to get so comfortable so quickly, nor had you expected the slightly authoritative tone. But you certainly aren’t complaining.

❤️‍🔥 “show me what you like,” she tells you. “When I get my hands on you, I wanna know what makes you scream, love.”

❤️‍🔥 “you first,” you challenge.

❤️‍🔥 Karlach gives a truly wicked grin. She finally gives in, her fingers delving into her cunt. You watch, mesmerized by the lick of flames that dance on her skin, as she dips a finger into her hole, dragging wetness up to her clit where she slowly starts to circle.

❤️‍🔥 you lick your lips, rubbing gently at your own, it’s simultaneously so exciting and frustrating. You want her. You want her to touch you, you want to kiss her, you want to hear those low grunting moans in your ear—

❤️‍🔥 “I know, me too.” The tadpoles must have connected your consciousnesses, and you had a fleeting flash of embarrassment, hoping no one else in the camp had also been included in the connection.

❤️‍🔥 Karlach was twitching, hips rolling up to meet her own touch as she slunk down slightly. Her other hand played with a nipple, pinching and squeezing hard and rough. You memorized the method, mouth watering to put the stiff peak between your lips.

❤️‍🔥 “fuck yourself with your fingers,” she breathed. “I wanna see.”

❤️‍🔥 you sunk a finger into your own heat, the soft wet walls taking the intrusion easily, you were quickly losing focus as you gently pumped in and out.

❤️‍🔥 “you can do more,” she said, eyes intensely trained on you. “Know you can.”

❤️‍🔥 another finger then, anything she wanted, you would certainly do. You pumped, curling your fingers best you could to hit that spot that you loved but it was just slightly out of reach. You knew she’d be able to hit it easily.

❤️‍🔥 “gods I want to try everything with you,” she whined. Her fingers her dancing over her clit, quicker and more urgent. “Would you let me fuck you? Like with a toy?”

❤️‍🔥 “fuck,” you shuddered, “yes.”

❤️‍🔥 “bet you’d beg for it,” she grinned wickedly. “A big red cock, strapped to me so I can feel it in my clit while I rail you. Fuck.”

❤️‍🔥 “thought about it a lot, have you?”

❤️‍🔥 “you have no idea.” She was getting excited, all the things she wanted to do bubbling to the surface in a hazy stream of consciousness she spoke out loud. 10 years of only being able to fantasize seemed to have given her very detailed images of exactly what she wanted, and she was happy to share them with you.

❤️‍🔥 “Just wanna see your hole stretched for me, lick your clit and fuck you until you squirt for me,”

❤️‍🔥 “fuck - Karlach,” you breathed in shock. You had asked her to tell you what she would do if she could touch you. But the list of ideas was so long, so delicious you started to feel yourself tipping towards coming hard.

❤️‍🔥 but she wasn’t ready to stop telling you everything she wanted. “Grinding our cunts together, until we can’t come anymore, hold you down on the ground and ride your face — play with your pretty pussy so you see stars while I fuck myself on your tongue -“

❤️‍🔥 “Karlach,” you chanted her name, “I’m —“

❤️‍🔥 “yeah? You there?”

❤️‍🔥 you nodded, unable to speak much else.

❤️‍🔥 “do it, please, let me — fuck yes.”

❤️‍🔥 you cut her off with a needy whine, back arching and hips rolling into your own hand. Wave after wave of satisfaction making your body break out into a new sheen of sweat, heart thudding in your chest.

❤️‍🔥 Karlach groaned, her hips bucking as she hit her own release. Her entire body burned bright blue, the rush of heat in the tent making your skin tingle. It was entirely worth it to watch her ride out her orgasm, until she fell limp on the ground.

❤️‍🔥 a moment of quiet as you two breathed heavily, the hot air making it even more difficult to slow your breathing down. You were parched, covered in sweat and still twitching.

❤️‍🔥 Karlach laughed. A loud, throaty fully bodied sound that made you grin. “Gods, soldier,” she sighed. “I nearly burnt the camp to the ground.”

❤️‍🔥”worth it, if you ask me.”

❤️‍🔥 “completely.”

❤️‍🔥 she was quiet for a moment. “You know what else I’d do?” You hummed in response. “I’d hold you. All night. Just want to have you near. “

❤️‍🔥 your hand came out, just close enough to hers that it was tolerable to your skin. It was something you two had started doing, hands just close enough to touching as was safe — the closest you could get to holding her hand.

❤️‍🔥 “I’m here.” You assured her. “I’ll never be too far.”

🔥 she grinned, and the engine in her heart glowed.

#karlach x reader #karlach x tav #karlach fanfic #karlach cliffgate #bg3 fanfiction #Olly writes

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