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yelenasbraid · 1 month ago

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good enough — joe burrow

summary — ‘we’re not good enough’ is starting to sound and feel like ‘i’m not good enough’ for joe

warnings — fem!reader, whole lotta angst, mentions of panic/not feeling great, takes place after the game against the eagles, lots of italics so sorry, maybe some ooc joe?? halfway proofread so don’t come for me.

note — i listened to the song j’s lullaby (darlin’ i’d wait for you) by delaney bailey and whewww it fueled the angst

ANOTHER FUMBLE RECOVERY. another turnover. another at-home loss. he couldn’t fight this game anymore, he couldn’t fight the refs, he couldn’t deny the very blatant fact that they weren’t good enough.

so he sat, watching jake perform the last moments of the game. he watched as they lost, the score 37-17. he knew the stakes coming into the game. the eagles were a prominent team, a good opponent. he was expecting a good game out of it, not a blowout.

the post-game press conference was going to be a nightmare.

what kept him sane as he walked in the tunnel wasn’t a thing or an event, it was a person. you. he knew you watched the entire thing, he knew you’d be upset, as was he. he also knew that if one person said the wrong thing he’d snap.

he just needed to see you. just for one second.

he walked into the tunnel, his head hanging as cameras flashed. he clenched his fists; they wanted a picture of this?

“joe,” he picked up his to the sound of your voice, and if he didn’t know better, he would have collapsed right then and there. he walked up to you, putting the rest of the energy he had into his getting to you. he gently wrapped his arms around you, inhaling your perfume, reveling in your warmth.

you pulled apart from him like gum from the concrete; he didn’t want to let you go. he didn’t want to go to the press conference and face the failures, his failures.

“don’t you dare go there,” you gently warned, your voice like a cool stream over a sore wound. your hands held his clenched fists, which eventually opened to envelop yours. you were right, but it was too late; he was already there.

“i’ll see you at home,” he swallowed. his eyes twitched, the glass beneath them shattering as he made eye contact with you. he took a breath; he was not going to lose it.

“i love you,” you reminded him, letting go of his hands.

“i love you,” he hummed, mustering up some energy to offer you a smile. to you, it just looked like a more relaxed expression. he trailed off, being whisked away by staffers. he gave you one last look before he disappeared to the locker rooms.

—

his drive home was silent. his hands wrung the steering wheel as the conference played over in his mind.

“we’re not good enough, we’re not good enough. we gotta get better,”

“we gotta take responsibility for how we’re playing individually,”

“i don’t think anybody was good enough today,”

the underlying message that the reporters didn’t catch, thankfully, was that he wasn’t good enough. he should have been better. it was all his fault.

you’d catch it though. he knew you saw through him the moment you saw him. he loved it about you, that he didn’t have to say anything for you to get him. it wasn’t always the case, but it was this time.

he pulled into the driveway, throwing the car into park and sitting there for a moment. he stared at the wall of the garage, losing himself in the defeat and disappointment of the night. he blinked, throwing himself out of whatever funk he was in, and shut the car off. his body ached, his head was heavy, and all he wanted to do was sleep. it was only 6 pm; going to bed now wouldn’t hurt right?

he grabbed his bag and walked up into the house. he opened the door to the smell of vanilla and woodsmoke, his eyes directed to a candle that was lit in the kitchen. he didn’t see you in the living room or the kitchen, and for a second he thought you’d left. he swallowed, nerves bubbling in his gut as he kicked his shoes off by the door.

“babe?” he called, his voice hoarse and scratchy. his expression relaxed as he heard you pad down the stairs, seeing you in sweats and a t-shirt.

“hey,” you smiled, coming off the stairs. you crossed your arms over your chest, watching as joe stood there. he didn’t know what to do, clearly this game proved that. he just wasn’t good enough. the voices from past recruiters filled his mind as he zoned out again, whispering sweet lies to him about his performance.

he’d never be good enough.

there’s always someone better.

he wasn’t even good enough for you.

his breath hitched as he focused on you, the world around him coming back into focus.

“what?” he cleared his throat, seeing the confused expression on your face.

“i asked if you were hungry,” you repeated. seeing him this dazed worried you, especially given the circumstances.

“don’t really have an appetite,” he responded, moving past you and towards the stairs. his emotions were a sour cocktail, and he was tired of it being the only thing settling in his stomach. he wanted you told hold him, to comfort him, but he also needed to figure out what exactly happened out there. his brain was leaning towards finding a solution, even if there was no use in the state he was in.

“i figured,” you hummed, letting him stroll past you up the stairs, “i’ll be here when you’re ready,” you added. you’d wait for him, all day every day. you’d let him go through his process, do his routine, and he’d come back to you. he always did.

joe paused on the stairs, something stopping him. he didn’t know what it was, maybe it was your voice in his head breaking through the noise, telling him to not shut you out. maybe it was your divine-like patience. you always made time for his moods and his failures. did he make time for you? amidst his struggles, did he ever take a second to make time for your moods and your struggles? was he being a good boyfriend?

“baby?”

“why are you still here?” he asked you, his tone sharp, despite him meaning to sound that way.

“what?” his tone caught you off guard, making you rapidly blink to help you process.

“you should leave,” he continued, “you…” he was panicking. why was he pushing you away? he needed you.

“what are you talking about?” your fear struck you, but you still fought yourself. he couldn’t mean what you thought he meant, right? you swallowed, watching as he battled himself. watching as his eyes avoided yours, as his fists unclenched and then clenched again. he was shaking too.

“you’re always here for me, when have i ever been there for you?” he asked, “i’m not a good boyfriend, i’m not a good quarterback,”

“joe, stop,” your voice stopped him, a stern expression reminding him much of his mother. while you were serious, there was undoubtedly a kind warmth behind your eyes. he panted, his eyes filling with hot tears.

as silence sat between you, joe’s breathing lessened. he walked back down the stairs, dropping his bag at the foot of them. he stood there, deflated, as you approached him. you took his face in your hands, feeling warm tears hit your fingers. your thumbs whisked them away, trying to give joe some semblance of comfort during a time where there wasn’t much of it.

joe wrapped his arms around your waist, nuzzling his face into your neck. he pulled you in close, the weight on his chest lessening as he let you pull him in. he let your warmth take him over, spreading like a wildfire over his bones. he felt your fingers through his hair, your hands running down his back. you were the personification of comfort and safety, and he was trying so hard to drink it all in.

“you are not a bad boyfriend,” you hummed, and in response he squeezed you tighter, “you’re not a bad quarterback,” you added, running your hands down his back. he pulled away from you as tears fell from his eyes. he wiped them away with the palm of his hand.

“how?”

“do you remember that time i was followed by some guy? i called you, and without any hesitation you answered and came to help me,”

“that’s just what a boyfriend is supposed to do,”

“hold on, i’ve got more,” you patted his chest, “the time when my mom had a cancer scare. you left practice early every day to make sure not only that i was ok, but if i needed anything. the time i got promoted at work and you surprised me with my friends over for dinner. the time i was spiraling so badly after a bad encounter with someone at work you picked me up, made me a delicious dinner, and made sure i felt appreciated and loved,” you listed them off, and there were many more. you guys weren’t perfect, by any means, but he was enough. he’d always be enough.

“you’re a good quarterback. if you don’t want to look at the numbers, look at your heart. you have such a passion for these young guys, for the vets. you lead them well and confidently, you make sure they know they’re appreciated and give them their first game ball if necessary, like you did with andrei. but because none of us are perfect, we make mistakes, but it makes us better. it doesn’t define you as a person,” you continued. you watched the gears turn, and while it would take some time for joe to see that himself, he knew you were right. he knew what you were talking about, he saw what you saw, and it calmed the frayed nerves in his body.

“i don’t deserve you,” he whispered, “i really don’t,”

“you deserve the world, joe burrow,” you countered, giving him a soft smile. he gave you one back, sniffling.

“i’m sorry for telling you to leave, i just…i don’t know,”

“i know, just don’t push me away. i’m not here to make things worse for you, i hope you know that,” you allowed a laugh at your last words, making joe chuckle too.

“i know that,” he agreed.

“don’t push me away,” you repeat, resting your hand on his chest, it movie with the rise and fall of his chest.

“i won’t,”

“good,” you smiled, “now, i say it’s time for a comfort show,” you grinned, which made his face light up. the both of you walked over to the couch, sitting down on the plush white cushions. you settled a blanket across your lap, while joe grabbed a blanket of his own, laying his head in your lap.

“spongebob?” he turned his head up to look at you, a hopeful look in his eyes.

“sure thing, squidward,” you teased, kissing him on the nose. you turned it on, then nestling into your spot on the couch. you ran your fingers through joe’s hair, occasionally catching his neck before going back into his hair. joe melted into you, cuddling into your warmth and your safety. he watched the episode, giggling at a couple parts, but the most important thing is that he was with you. that you were the glue that held him together. the feeling of your hands in his hair sent prickles down his spine, and in a good and comforting way. every prickle sent warmth across his body, relaxing his taut muscles.

you bent down and kissed his temple.

“i love you, joe burrow,” you hummed.

“i love you more, y/n l/n,” he hummed back. it wasn’t too long before sleep bid him closer, and took over his body. he slumped into you, his soft breaths telling you he fell asleep. you kissed him again, smiling against his warm skin. he was safe and he was loved, and that’s all that mattered.

joey looked so sad after the game 🥺 hopefully this makes a bit better. ALSO! i do have a couple more fics lined up that might be released this week so STAY TUNED!! i just wanted to write an angsty fic ngl

tags: @wickedfun9 @joeyfranchise

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagines #nfl imagine

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hier--soir · 10 months ago

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a lover's pinch | eight

joel miller x f!reader

pairing: professor!joel miller x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+ mdni summary: the one where they get caught. warnings/tags: au, university professor joel, age gap [20 something years diff], ethically dubious relationship due to inherent power imbalance, domestic bliss, gratuitous descriptions of joel reading, joni mitchell, explicit unprotected piv sex, delayed gratification, dirty talk, finger sucking, biting, academic praise kink, cream pie, who's in the pic on joel's desk??, angst, confrontation, an orpheus and eurydice metaphor uh oh, those blue panties from 3 come back to haunt us. word count: 6.9k nice series masterlist | main masterlist chapter moodboard a/n: i need someone to make me write [or not write] the way j miller phd does in this... also sorry and i hope you like it and sorry again follow @hier--soirupdates if you'd like to be notified when i share my writing this is part eight of ALP. you can read the previous parts here: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven.

Winter descends over Maine not with a bang, but with a whimper.

The days and weeks fold together in a blurring mess of sleep ins and papers and coffees, until suddenly a month has passed, and you hardly noticed it slipping through your fingers.

You spend less time at home, and more tucked on one side of Joel’s couch, your feet in his lap as he lounges down the other end. You dip pale toast in runny yolks at the table, listening to him on the phone to Sarah in the other room. Hear him say I’m good, baby girl… I’m really good when she asks how he is.

You ride shotgun in the truck between his place and the university, slipping out the passenger door a little early every time. Walk the final stretch lest someone notice his glasses, your hair through the windscreen.

On campus you watch him up there on his stage, a burn in your chest, and see how he seeks you out in the after. How he props you above him and returns your gaze finally. Curls his body around yours and repents for every time he had to look away.

It's warm and it’s kind and it’s trading books with scribbled notes in the margins.

It’s rain smacking against the windows as you read, his scruffy chin nesting in the slope where your neck meets your shoulder, two sets of eyes staring at the same words.

It’s nodding off in his bed where the sheets have started to smell like your perfume, eyelids heavy as you wait for him to get home. It’s wearing only his clothes and being woken up by his face between your thighs, pupils blown and lips slick.

It’s finding each other at the end of a long day and hearing him say, I thought about you all afternoon.

And this feeling of familiarity writhes between the slats of your ribs. A comfortable, quiet fondness that you see reflected in his eyes when he looks at you; that you hear when that tender mouth forms your name.

You gorge yourselves on it. Put lips to the crooks and thorns in each other’s bodies and suckle on that fondness, swallow, swallow, and watch the well never run dry.

The bleed is endless. Beneath the stain of time it floods and flurries, melting the two of you together until you start to feel certain it could never end.

Until, of course and at last, it does.

Sunday.

It’s late, you think. Somewhere in the mess where time blurs between sunset and midnight, Winter stealing hours that feel like minutes.

The curtains in his living room are drawn, low yellow light warming the room from a tall lamp in the corner. Blue spins in the on the record player, a gentle sway of sound that fills the room.

I like listening to Joni on Sundays, he’d confessed in the bathroom, bashful as he rubbed a towel over you, drying the wet ends of your hair and the slick skin of your shoulders.

He reads at the table now, strong chin cupped in his palm as his eyes flit across the pages of a textbook.

Something to do with conservation; a Minoan palace in Knossos, you think. He’d explained it earnestly, but his curls were soft and fluffy from the shower and his glasses were resting on the tip of his nose and so you’d found yourself zoning out, eyes going from round to heart shaped as you nodded along from the couch.

Every few minutes he grips his pen and jots down a note before glancing up to check on you. And whenever this happens you avert your eyes quickly, pretending to be enthralled by the half-finished essay on your screen. You have a feeling he catches you each time, because he keeps laughing softly, tutting under his breath as he goes back to reading, foot never stopping its tap-tap-tap in time with the music. The only time he gets up is to flip the record, and soon those little laughs and huffs start to mix with Joni’s bell-like voice, and the opening lyrics to California swell through the room as you type at a glacial pace.

She sings, I met a redneck on a Grecian isle, and you glance up again, eyes turning wide and doe-like when you find Joel already watching you. He gave me back my smile, Joni sings. But he kept my camera to sell.

“How’s the writing going?”

“Good.” Liar. “Great, even.” Bad liar.

Joel’s eyes narrow behind his glasses, lips twitching in a clear attempt to smother a laugh, but he just nods, looking back down at his book.

He’s wearing home clothes. That’s what he called them. Home clothes.

When he’d said it, still pulling them on, you’d wanted nothing more than to grip his hands and stop him in his tracks, but you’d sequestered yourself to the other side of the room instead, sorely committed to the study evening he’d suggested. But he’s in soft grey sweatpants and an even softer looking white t-shirt, and every time he sips his coffee he hums happily against the rim of his mug, and his bare foot goes tap-tap-tap and Joni sings Oh, will you take me as I am?, and—

“Come here.”

You blink. His eyebrows raise expectantly, lips split into a broad smile now.

“Unless you’d rather stay over there and keep starin’.”

You reach him as The Last Time I saw Richard, the final track on side two, begins to spin.

Joni sings, all romantics meet the same fate, and Joel’s knees fall apart, thighs splayed so handsomely across his chair, inviting you to take a seat. You ignore the woeful lyrics and focus instead on the knowing smirk on his face, taking a step forward, and another, until you’re stood between his open legs.

He doesn’t touch you. Just smiles, all saccharine and easy, leaning back in his chair.

“Much left to do?” He points at the laptop in your hands.

“Maybe another hundred words,” you grumble and put it down on the table. “Today, at least.”

Joel hums, eyes flicking down. His gaze skirts across the bare skin of your legs, the soft sleep shorts you’re wearing; ones he puts on you himself, and knows you don’t have anything beneath.

“Come here.” He pats his thigh; stops you with a soft tut when you try to straddle him. “Naw, baby, like this.”

Soft hands tilt your hips, turn you until your back is to his chest and he’s drawing you onto his lap.

“Oh.” You smile, leaning your head back onto his shoulder.

Nose turned into the side of his face, you brush a kiss to the edge of his jaw and sigh in relief as he wraps his arms around your middle and squeezes.

The space between his chest and the table is a little tight; small enough that if you were to lean forward a few inches your ribs would knock against the wood.

As if he’s thinking the same thing, Joel leans forward. Presses you against the table, one hand coming up to hold your face. His fingers are soft on your skin, offering small amounts of pressure as he grips your jaw and encourages you to look forward.

“Gonna tell me what’s on your mind?” he asks.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up a little, skin prickling at the shift in his tone. Still soft, still quiet, yet with something… demanding, shifting just below the surface.

“You,” you say, cringing at the way your voice takes on a higher quality all of a sudden. Steeling yourself, you add, “You’re distracting me.”

“Wasn’t doing anythin’,” he responds simply. “Just sittin’ over here, minding my business while you burn holes in my head.”

“You know what you’re doing.”

“I cooked dinner.” He squeezes you again. “Fed you. We showered, and now I’m readin’.”

“You were humming.”

Joel kisses the shell of your ear.

“And tapping.”

He flutters his fingers against your hip.

“S’that such a crime?” he murmurs.

“No, but…” You sigh when his tongue snakes out, tracing the soft curve of your earlobe. “But it…”

“But but but,” Joel mocks, and you can feel his sick smirk against your neck, teeth teasing along your carotid now. “But all you can think about is my cock, ain’t that right?”

Your stomach falls away. Everything firm inside you turns to goo as he laughs, knowing he’s right.

“So needy,” he taunts you, holding your hip tighter as his length begins to thicken against your ass. “Had all day to ask for it.”

You don’t respond, tongue tied and more uninterested in your essay than ever.

“Just lookin’ for a distraction now,” he teases lightly. “The more you put it off, the harder it’ll be to get it done, baby.”

“I know.”

“If you know.” He hooks a finger over the waistband of your shorts. “Then finish it.”

“S’not that simple,” you whine, rolling your hips over his lap. A sharp puff of air warms the back of your neck, so you do it again. His hand tightens around your jaw.

“Just a hundred words, right?” he coaxes gruffly. “Come on now, I’ll make it worth your while.”

You feel his thick cock beneath his sweats, stiff and pressing between the crease of your thighs, melting what’s left of your resolve. You want to grind down against it. To pull your soft sleep shorts to the side and let him sink inside with no more pretence. But you put your hands on the desk, eyes on the screen, and Joel slides his warm palms beneath the hem of your t-shirt. Floats them over the curve of your stomach, the soft flesh around your ribs, waking thousands of tiny hairs that cover your skin until his fingers meet your chest, and he cups your breasts.

You shiver, lids growing heavy as he squeezes and tickles at your skin. Your nipples harden to peaks against his rough palms, and he sighs at the feeling, face resting against the back of your neck as he plays.

“Fuck,” you sigh, voice a broken buzz in your throat as he pinches one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. “I thought you wanted me to write.”

“I do,” Joel murmurs unconvincingly. “A hundred words, go on.”

Hands like lead on the table, it feels like an impossible task. Even more than it did ten minutes ago. You force yourself to lift your fingers to the keyboard, vision sharpening as you look for where you left off. You try to shut him out, try to ignore the way his tongue warms the skin on your neck, the way the hairs on his thighs tickle against yours, and begin to write.

But he doesn’t make it easy.

The second you finish the first sentence one of his hands drifts down your stomach to cup your pussy over your shorts. You flinch, heart galloping in your chest when he sighs in your ear.

“Joel,” you whimper, pleading already. “I can’t if you…”

“You can,” he soothes. The warmth of his palm is suffocating, so hot against where you’re already wet and wanting. Thick fingers press against the fabric, nudging it between your slick folds until it goes damp. “Just ignore me, baby.”

“Easier said than done,” you reply. You type five more words, chest rattling with heavy breaths as he paws at you, thumbing at your clit through your shorts.

His breath is hot and heavy against your neck and his soft curls tickle your skin as you try to focus.

“Ignore me,” he repeats, and you squeak as he tilts you forward. A rush of breath spills from your mouth, chest flush to the desk, ass suspended above his lap as he shifts behind you. And when he pulls you back down, you sigh pathetically over the fact that he’s pushed his sweats down.

The full weight of his length presses against you, nestled between the rounded flesh of your ass, and you manage to mumble his name.

“Just—” You’re panting now; considering begging. “—I can do this later. I will finish it later, I swear, just—”

Joel nudges your shorts to the side and presses a finger between your folds. A ragged gasp stutters out of you, finger jammed against the keyboard. A steady stream of kkkkkkkkkkkkkkk fills a line of the document as he smears your wetness up to your clit.

“Fuck,” you mumble, hips tilting forward, trying to chase the feeling.

“None of that,” he tuts quickly, other hand slipping down and pinching the skin at the inside of your thigh. You’ve only backspaced half of the k’s when he slips two fingers inside you. “Come on, now.”

Thirty words fly as he crooks his fingers inside you. Slow and gentle, thumb rubbing messy circles against your clit as he works you open.

“That’s it,” he coos, pressing a third finger inside. Your cunt sucks desperately at his fingers, the skin of your face warming as you catch a glimpse of your reflection on the laptop screen. Jaw hanging low, a silent prayer for relief written across the open slant of your mouth. “My smart girl. Knew they didn’t give you that degree for nothin’.”

You gasp and swat at his wrist, but a satisfied little smile cracks your face for a moment when he laughs. Only for it to fall seconds later when he lays a sharp bite to the back of your shoulder. You moan, voice cracking around his name, rutting desperately against his hand.

“You can do it,” he flatters you, sickly sweet and entirely convincing as he strokes at your insides. Curling and stretching until you’re turning to a wet trembling mess in his lap, wobbling through half-assed sentences that you aren’t sure even match up with your essay outline anymore.

“Good,” Joel murmurs. “That’s good.”

“Don’t look,” you slur out, heart pounding at the idea of him reading anything you’ve written in this state. “It’s f-for your class, you can’t look.”

“Not lookin’.” He noses at the back of your ear. Presses an open-mouthed kiss to the hinge of your jaw. “Just lookin’ at you, m’always just lookin’ at you.”

“I’ll finish it.” You switch up your tactic now. Voice low and breathy, the back of your head resting heavy on his shoulder, eyes longing to close. “Tomorrow, I’ll write it—”

“Tomorrow?” His thumb drags harder on your clit.

“Yes,” you gasp, stomach tensing. You feel a bit floaty all of a sudden. Locked out of your own mind, all thoughts spilling from between your thighs as desire grips you, consumes you. “Please, just…”

“What, baby?” he prompts. “Say it.”

“Just let me sit on your cock,” you groan. “Please, I can’t think right now, I’ll finish it, I promise.”

“You fuckin’ promise—Christ,” he grumbles, fingers drifting from your tight clutch. “Just a little more, baby, for me.”

You don’t even really know how it happens after that. Ears roaring, skin tight, everything is a blur as you write and write and write and he presses his leaking tip between your folds works you down onto his length. Hands everywhere, so warm, so rough, holding your thighs, your waist, your breasts, your shorts to the side. Slower when your gasps spin higher, you think, always knowing when to ease up, when the burn gets too much too quick.

Joel grips your thighs, prying them apart until your calves are on the outside of his, and then he’s shifting his legs open wide, giving your own no choice but to follow. You feel the full weight of him in this position. The long, thick stretch of his cock inside you as your legs dangle listlessly over his lap, toes straining and failing to reach the floor. You can do nothing but rest heavily across his thighs, those hands still everywhere all at once, and whine pitifully as your walls spasm and clench around him, coil inside pulling tighter and tighter.

Vision waning, the text on your screen warbles as Joel slips the pad of his finger against your clit and begins to play with it. Soft little rubs that have you going tense and leaning forward on the table, braced on your elbows and grinding down into his lap, desperate for release, for movement, anything. It feels like your brain is splintering into a thousand tiny pieces inside your skull.

“You’re so wet,” Joel rasps, forehead heavy against your shoulder blade as he groans. “Pretty pussy’s drippin’ all over me, honey. You really need it that bad?”

You say something you think, mouth moving and eyes rolling as his hips shift up in a weak little thrust. Just one.

“Keep goin’.” He sounds pained, half-drunk as the words stumble out of him.

Your mind slips further from your grasp and you’re typing pure gibberish. Slurring messes of letters cloaked in perfect punctuation. Your fingers fly across the keys, painting commas and full stops and semi colons around complete and utter bullshit as your cunt flutters and your belly stirs.

His finger glides and his cock pulses and your vision darkens and you come. Shoulders hunched, table digging into your forearms, you fold forward and cry out as an agonisingly brief orgasm rips through you.

It’s over before it’s even begun, but Joel groans and offers a shallow thrust, your cry turning to a gasp as he grips your thigh for dear life.

“Oh good girl,” he murmurs, fingers slowing against your nerves, not wanting to overwhelm. “Fuckin’ squeezing me so tight, baby.”

“Joel.” There are tears in your eyes now. Liquid frustration that pools against your waterline and threatens to spill when he still doesn’t fuck you how you need him to.

“How much left?” he asks roughly, rocking his hips against yours in a steady pace now. Gentle, rolling movements that snag on the heels of your orgasm and hold it close.

“Huh?”

“How many words?”

“I don’t…” Your eyelids flutter. “I don’t know.”

“Shit, sweetheart,” he laughs a little then, rueful but not unkind. “That’s gonna be hell to edit.”

With a furious groan you slam the laptop closed, the sharp smack of metal on metal filling your ears as he grips your hips and really starts to fuck you.

It’s not fast though, not rough. Just deep, lingering strokes that grind against the end of you and nudge you stumbling toward the edge. He pinches your clit between the tips of his middle and ring fingers, rubbing slow drags up and down against the hood like that. Moaning and sweating, you slip your hand over his. Press lower and let your fingers glide around his girth, thick and vascular between your thighs, hot skin wetter every time he pulls out of you.

“Feel that?” Joel pants, teeth nipping at the top of your spine. “You’re creamin’ for me, baby. Fuck, I—I need to taste it.”

“Shit—oh god.”

He grips your wrist and drags it up, chin harsh against your shoulder as he sucks your fingers into his mouth.

The groan he lets out is filthy as his hot tongue snakes out to lick the webbing between your fingers, and you tip your head to watch his eyes roll back. His thighs tremble beneath you, but you can’t be sure it’s not just the vibrations of your own body tricking you.

But no, it’s him. His hips stutter against yours, deep plunges stilting into shallow movements, and he stalls deep inside your cunt for a second on the end of every thrust, as if his brain is short-circuiting.

You hook your fingers in his mouth, the tips digging into the gums behind his teeth, and tug him back to reality. He nips at your fingers and moans, hand falling heavy between your thighs again. And he doesn’t stop now; keeps pushing and pinching and fucking and grinding until your pussy is pulling tight and slick around his length and your fingers are fanned loose and shaky across his face, and you can hardly breathe except to say Joel or please or oh my god.

“Can feel it,” he grunts breathlessly, skin smacking against yours in a sharp staccato beat. “Deep breath, baby, c’mon, let me have it.”

“Your teeth,” you gasp feverishly. “Bite me again.”

“Fuck,” he snarls and then he’s grating the hard line of his incisors along your shoulder.

The sweet pinch of his canines digging into your back sets your cunt aflutter around him, mouth hung open in silent ecstasy as he fucks you full of his seed and you suck it in deep, tight with longing, still panting and high when it begins to drip from where you’re connected, spooling around his cock and smearing between your thighs and his.

His chest heaves against your back. Chest hair damp wet sweat, dripping through your thin shirt until it can’t decide whether to cling to his skin or yours. There’s an ache at the base of your spine, maybe a muscle pulled, and his thumb presses into the flesh there as if he can sense it.

Sounds come back slowly. Joni’s finished and the needle tracks around the runout groove on the record, a little crackle flaring every few seconds where the two channels join. Joel’s breathing too, rough against your shoulder, harmonising with the wet sound of his lips peeling from your skin.

You tilt your head to the side.

Wild eyed, cunt-struck, Joel knocks his nose against yours. Groans low when you flick your tongue out to graze across his bottom lip. He’s bitten it rough and ragged and red, and you want to soothe the sting. His glasses are on top of his head, smudged lenses tucked amidst wild fluffy curls.

You try to kiss him, hard and wet, but he stops you with a hand to your jaw. Cradles your face and strokes your cheekbone and wipes the spittle from your lips before kissing you lightly. Chaste and gentle, like the two of you are ten and have never kissed anyone before, have never been brave enough to use your tongues.

That invisible bleed in your chest drips heavier. You picture a thick spurt of red against your chest cavity as he kisses the corners of your mouth, the tip of your nose, your eyelids.

“You good?” he asks quietly.

You nod, smiling when his lips catch and drag across your skin with the movement of your head.

A moment passes like this. Searching kisses dotted over your smiling face. The swell of your cheeks, the ends of your eyebrows.

“Sometimes I feel like you aren’t real,” Joel confesses. A bare bones whisper that tickles the skin between your eyebrows, where his lips rest now. “Like you might just melt away if I don’t hold on tight enough. Disappear if I look away too long, and I’ll be stuck tryna convince myself that you were ever really here.”

Twisted up in his arms, you can feel the way his heart batters against his chest, thrashing through to vibrate against your back. He might as well be plucking the admission straight from your own mouth.

“I’m real,” you murmur against his neck. “I’m here, it’s real.”

“Me too,” he says. Something wet tickles your skin, but it’s gone in a second. Rubbed over by his thumb, soothed with another kiss.

I love you, you think, but when you speak it comes out as, “No melting.”

Joel laughs softly. Kisses you again. “No melting.”

Thursday.

“It was too much.”

“It was fine.”

“I said the word grateful three times.”

“Four, actually.” You chew the inside of your cheek and shrug apologetically. “I counted.”

“Jesus,” Joel sighs, reaching up to a drag a hand over his face.

He’s pulled his desk chair all the way across the office. Tie loosened and top buttons undone, he slumps in it a little. His thick knees almost brush against yours where you sit in his armchair.

“Hey, I liked it,” you smile, bumping his knee. “It was nice - shows you care.”

“Well, you ain’t all that hard to please,” Joel smarts, lip quirking up into a sly grin.

Mouth open in a scoff, you feign offence, dragging your laptop from your satchel and making a show of ignoring him.

“How the mighty fall,” he continues, sighing dramatically and tilting his head over the back of the chair. The light coming in through the window hits his face just right, and the grey hairs in his curls shine. “Grateful to have been your professor… asshole.”

“Don’t be precious,” you laugh softly. “You’re just embarrassed because you said you were going to miss us.”

“That was a lie,” Joel tuts, brushing you off with a hand in the air, biting back that grin. “I ain’t gon’ miss any of you assholes. And when those final papers come in—” He taps a finger against the top of your laptop “—I’ll be sayin’ my prayers that any of you can string a worthwhile sentence together.”

“If you’re lucky,” you drawl, batting his hand away. “You’ll teach some of us again next year. And when that semester finishes, you’ll say all of that shit again, because you’re a sap, Joel Miller.”

Joel stares at you for a moment, face softening, and then clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “Smart ass.”

“And you love it,” you quip easily, only balking a moment later when the word hangs awkwardly in the air. Hands pausing on your keyboard, you glance up, neck hot, only to find Joel watching you still. Face suspended in a small smile; eyes light as he nods.

“I do,” he says after a moment. “But you’re on thin ice, wise guy.”

He plucks a book from his desk and spreads it open on his lap, either not noticing or simply not caring as you watch on, slack jawed. I do.

After a moment, Joel taps his foot against yours again. “Write.”

So, sucking in a breath, you do. Time passes and rain starts to drizzle against the window as you write, and Joel reads. Having forgotten to put a record on like normal, he hums lightly under his breath; some tune you can’t place but still nod along to. Every few minutes he turns his page, and the sound sends a shiver down your spine.

You hate the way he holds books. Hate the way he cradles the spines, thumb hooked around the footnotes to hold his page. Hate the way his fingers trace the stanzas as he reads, tender and patient, and always afraid to miss something. Hate most the way the tendons on the backs of his hands flex when he turns the page. How the veins around them go fat and blue the longer he does this, as if all the blood in his body is sprinting towards the words. It’s a dangerous sort of eroticism, watching him read. You hate how much you love it.

In need of reprieve, you focus on your own hands. Crack tired knuckles and stretch out cramps and aches, taking a moment to peer over at his desk. The picture frame you’d once been so curious about is propped on the edge of it once again.

You can see Joel behind the glass panel, sporting a shit-eating grin with Sarah, clad in a graduation gown, tucked proudly against his chest. Taken the day she finished high school, you know now. And you’d never noticed it that first time, months ago, but Ellie’s face rests in the corner of the picture. Pink tongue stuck out and eyes pinched shut; she’d snuck her head into the frame at the last second apparently.

You gaze fondly at it, and feel that familiar warmth in your chest over the fact that he’s put it back out. No more hiding.

“What’re you lookin’ at?” Joel glances over his shoulder, and then smiles.

“It’s a good photo,” you say. “You look so happy there.”

“I was. It’s one of my favourites,” he nods, adjusting his glasses on his nose. He seems to consider you for a moment, eyes flicking around your face, fingers fidgeting with the corner of his page. “Hey, I uh… Sarah actually called yesterday.”

He pauses. Takes an unusually deep breath and folds the book shut.

“Okay.” You blink, confused. “Is she alright?”

“Yeah.” He nods quickly. “Yeah, yeah, she was uh, she was askin’ about the holidays, and if—”

The office door creaks open, and Joel’s mouth seals shut as Rachel walks hastily inside, rushed words filling the small room.

“Joel, sorry, I need to grab—oh.”

There’s an odd pause after the words catch in her throat. A moment of uncomfortable stillness as the three of you inhale all at once, glancing around the room as if seeing it for the first time.

You and Joel aren’t touching, but your knees rest close, one of his feet in the space between yours on the carpet. Laptop propped on your knees, your final essay still lays open with a stream of edits pasted through the margins, cursor blinking at the end of the word nostos.

Joel, tie undone and sleeves rolled up, looks painfully casual in your presence.

“Sorry.” Rachel blinks, hovering awkwardly as the door clicks shut behind her. “I didn’t realise you had a… a meeting today?” The end of her sentence flares up, as if she’s confused, phrasing it like a dubious little question.

You offer a smile in her direction and hope it comes across as relaxed, a little encroaching even; as if you are the one who has interrupted; the one who should not be here.

“It’s fine,” Joel supplies easily, straightening in his chair to give her his full attention. His face gives nothing away. Stoic and calm, the way you’d imagine him to be if you weren’t here at all. “Everything alright?”

“Yes,” she says, frowning like she’s affronted by the question. Looks between the two of you again, listless fingers curling at her sides. “Just came to get that Livy copy back

You look back at your screen and will yourself to type something. To appear casual, studious, as if your heart isn’t lodged in the base of your throat.

“Sure,” he nods, gesturing vaguely toward his desk. “It’s in one of the drawers on the left.”

Rachel nods, walking over to the desk, and as her back turns you spare a glance at Joel. Find him already looking at you, eyebrows pulled down a little. Pink lips mouth It’s fine, married with a soft nod of his head, and for the second time in seconds you attempt a smile.

There’s the sound of wood sliding against wood, and then a soft, tired kind of silence. The lack of sound seems to swell, the air in the room thinning, your eyes focusing on Joel’s fingers on the armrest of his chair, tap tap tap, Rachel’s unruly curls somewhere past that, her face downturned, looking at something. Wary breaths held in unison, synced heart beats racing. It’s fine, it’s fine, no melting.

“Is this some kind of joke?”

Your head snaps up. Joel turns in his chair and begins to ask what’s wrong, but all that ends up coming from him is a sort of choked noise, rough around the edges, and breathless in the middle. Chest on fire, you let yourself look past him to where she stands.

Her gaze is hard as she stares Joel down from across the room. A slip of blue; soft material visible between her fingers, held up for a stunned chorus to see.

Your hearing deafens a little as you look on, motionless, a vague memory of birthday boy and got your cute little panties all soaked thinkin’ ‘bout my cock? playing in your mind. Of a damp patch on his shirt as he tucked blue into his desk drawer.

Joel says Rachel’s name, you think. Can see the way his jaw moves, the way her dark eyes sharpen, flitting back and forth between the two of you. And then, like a volcanic eruption or the swell beneath a wave, realisation crests the hill and It’s fine cracks and crumbles and turns to dust in your grasp. You don’t know what she knows, or how she knows, you just know that she does.

“You… what is this?” Rachel’s face shifts into something uncomfortable. A warped, grotesque shot at a smile. But as her lips curl upward, eyebrows down, it’s nothing but a contorted mess that blurs endlessly between confusion, surprise, and then horror. “This… her? She’s the reason you—”

“Rachel.” Joel’s entire body is wound tight. You can see the edge of his jaw from where you sit; the way his shoulders pull back, tight he watches her.

Your body seems to hold itself together for a moment. Breath caught on an inhale, lungs expanded, eyes frozen on the hard line of his nose, the arm of his glasses—places you feel safe to hover. But then she speaks again, and everything lurches back into focus. Like a needle scratching on a record, or tires squealing as a car pulls to an abrupt stop at a red—the words make you cringe, chest deflating and face crumpling.

“Jesus Christ, Joel,” she’s saying, and her voice raises, louder to match the disbelief in her tone. “You… she’s a fucking student.”

When the fear hits it doesn’t come slowly. It strikes hard and solid; an icy sheet of dread that sucks at your fingers and numbs your extremities. Cool and abrupt, it sinks to your bones and promises that you’ll never again feel anything but this. It laughs in the face of your warm kind month, pressing its chilled ice picks to the back of your eyes until they burn.

Her words hang heavy in the air, thick weights that press down on three sets of shoulders, and you have never wanted anything the way you want to see Joel’s face right now. To look at him and believe that this isn’t as bad as you know it to be. See that mouth tell you it’s fine and remember how it tastes.

Instead, a fear-stricken Orpheus, you will yourself not to look at him. Despite that longing, the way your arms beg to stretch out, to hold and be held, you do not look. No, you don’t think you could suffer the double death of both knowing this is happening and seeing him know it too.

In his place, you let your eyes turn to Rachel, and find that she already stares at you, small mouth cracked ajar in incredulity.

Mind whirring, racing, stumbling; fumbling to pin back together the pieces of who you once were in her eyes and who you are now. This woman you admire so, whose career path you’ve dreamt of, whose wit and quirk has propelled you, invigorated you.

It’s agonising to watch—the way her face morphs into something so unfamiliar as she looks at you now. An expression that once held only admiration, kindness, marred here by an inexplicable sense of pity. Not hate, or contempt, which perhaps would be easier to handle. Easier than the way those dark orbs go round and solemn with worry as they fall upon your anguished frame. It’s a slap in the face; camaraderie washed down the drain like the dregs of a long overdue bath, as she grips your soiled underwear in her fist.

Joel says her name, you’ve lost count of how many times he’s said it now, and she spurns his attempt at placation like a snake. Fast and deadly, venom dribbling from her tongue.

“Someone else?” she says, and her voice is like never before. Mirthless and cold, fury laced through every word. With a sharp jerk of her elbow, she tosses the underwear across the room. They land against Joel’s chest, caught silently in his fist. “You’re fucking sick.”

“This isn’t what you think it is—” Joel starts, and you think you hear his voice shake.

“It isn’t?” She laughs cruelly at that. “You haven’t been sleeping with one of our students?”

The cursor blinks on your screen. Nostos, nostos, nostos, nostos.

“Listen, can we talk about this somewhere else?” he asks. “Not like this, I—”

“Oh, is this not a convenient time for you?” she scowls. “Jesus Christ.”

The urge to speak bubbles in your chest. You don’t even know what you’re going to say until the words are spilling from your lips, disjointed and warbled, a voice that doesn’t even sound like your own.

“I pursued him,” you say.

You can feel them looking at you. Can hear the way you must sound to her, like some kid and not a woman who’s almost thirty years old and just as much to blame. But you can’t stop it.

“We’re both adults. He never made me do anything I didn’t—”

Joel says your name sharply. His fist, in the periphery of your downturned gaze, grips your balled up underwear so tight that the blue is entirely invisible within the thick masts of his fingers.

You suck in a breath, and it feels like the last bit of air in the room disappears into your lungs, so you hold it there. Keep it safe inside and figure that if all three of you were to suffocate then at least the truth, and all the foul consequences that come with it, would die here with you.

“Can you give us a minute?”

Silence falls in the lull after those words, and it takes a moment for you to look up, finally. To realise that the double death wasn’t in looking at Joel, but in understanding that he’d spoken these words to you, not her.

Eyes locked with his, you feel the fear move to your side. Hang low until it ebbs and flows in the space beneath your ribs—a sharp ache with no end in sight. He looks tired; resigned. Mouth thin and downturned, cheeks splashed with red.

You think you must say something. Some fumbling, awkward acknowledgement, because Rachel is giving you that look again and you can’t bear it. Can’t stand those eyes, that misplaced pity.

You collect your things, hands numb as you pile them into your bag and head for the door, skin prickling in defence against the silence that follows your movements.

Outside his office, alone in the long corridor, you know you should go. Should follow the wall down the stairs, out to your car, and not look back. Can you give us a minute? But that sharp ache leaves you cowering against the wall, limbs heavy, ear to his door.

“Rach,” Joel says softly, and it’s so familiar that your stomach rolls, lids fluttering closed. “It isn’t what you think, just let me explain, alright? We met before the term began; before she was my student. Before.”

“And then?”

“What?”

“I said, and then?” Rachel’s voice is steely. “You met her before and, what, you saw her in class and decided it was fine to let it continue? You—”

“Everything was consensual. You know me, I would never—”

“It’s not as simple as that, and you know it. Did you not think about what would happen if you were found out? Her credibility will be destroyed, Joel.”

“I know—”

“I mean for fucksake, her first major presentation was given at a conference where you were the keynote speaker. How do you think this will look?”

“Fuck, I know. Can you keep your voice down, please.”

There’s a brief silence. You hear shuffling, feet against carpet, and a dull spike of fear flares in the back of your mind. The idea of getting caught a second time, eavesdropping from outside the door. Against better judgement, you don’t move, and Rachel speaks again.

“You’re wrong,” she says. “I don’t know you. I… you aren’t the man I thought you were.”

You don’t hear Joel’s response over the drumming in your ears. Hot blood thrashes and roars inside your body, veins pounding with terror. Hands shake damp and weary at your sides, thinking hard, hard, grasping for solution, for the chance to say I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, this is my fault.

But he must have said something because then you hear it. A low fragment of a human voice, words spoken clear as day. They slice through your ears and have you peeling away from the door, swallowed by a white-hot longing to disappear as you stumble down the hall, the stairs, until you’re sucking in cold air on the pavement outside.

It’s raining hard now. Thin spray that comes at you sideways, lashing at your face and blinding you. You curl your back to the downpour and search thoughtlessly for your car, hands outstretched, those words of hers ricocheting off the inside of your skull.

When you find it, you press your key into the door and slump inside, and you still can’t avoid it. She might as well be standing right by the door, peering in at you. Shock in the jut of her brow, disappointment in the slant of her mouth as she whispers those words over and over through the crack in your window.

"I don’t care if you love her, Joel. I have to report you.”

refs:

joni mitchell's 1971 Blue album. [life changer]

the hollow men by t. s. elliot [fat juicy banger of a poem]

orpheus and eurydice from metamorphoses by ovid, tr. by a. d. melville

thank you for reading x

#my writing #fic: a lover's pinch #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut

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kylosjuul · 1 year ago

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Kylo Ren NSFW Alphabet (reupload)

a/n: i posted this last year and here it is again! if ur expecting kylo to be a dom don’t read this. Also, this is AFAB!reader.

——

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

Kylo has never had anybody to cherish like this, to hold. So you best believe after sex, he’s planting soft kisses across your face and lips trying to show how lucky he feels to have you; that you gave this gift of intimacy to him. It’s all soft touches and cuddles (fight me on this). He looks at you with a sense of longing, to have this feeling forever. He’ll hold your hand over his heart while you fall asleep on his chest, for it only beats for you.

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

Everything about your body has Kylo red in the face, but he finds his eyes trailing to your thighs and your ass often. Your uniform clings to them tightly, and he feels guilty about how quick his blood pools to his thighs, constantly readjusting his leather pants when you bend down or “accidentally” brush against him.

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

Okay, listen. Kylo has never had any sexual experience so you BEST believe he cums a lot. And hard. Borderline hyperspermia. He’s just so sensitive and you just feel too good wrapped around him. Expect rope after rope of thick cum coating your walls, spilling out of you and down your thighs :D

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

You make him hard. A lot. He feels so perverted, especially in the beginnings of your relationship. The soft floral notes of your perfume made his pants constrict, the sweet smell making him dizzy. Every kiss, every brush of your fingers=boner. He was embarrassed. The worst part is the wet dreams. Oh. The dreams. Kylo’s mind would drift to images of you kissing him, sitting on top of him, the warmth between your legs remedying the pressure building in his hips; but he would wake up every time, hard as a rock, spilling into his sleep pants panting your name. Yeah.

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

Absolute virg. Never even kissed a girl before. The first time you climbed on top of him and started trailing kisses down his neck, he was 100% whipped, almost finishing in his uniform as you rocked against his length. He knew he couldn’t give this up, couldn’t give YOU up.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

A bit simple, but this man lovesss missionary. He gets off when your face twists up in pleasure, knowing he’s the one providing it to you. Plus, he can hear each moan, each sharp intake of breath; Between your face drenched in lust, your sweet sounds, and your tits bouncing with each thrust, this position makes him cum the hardest. (Besides you on top. He’ll dig his fingers into your hips watching himself disappear inside you over and over. yum).

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

I’d say Kylo is serious during the deed. He just loves you so much and wants to worship you with every bit of intimacy he has in him. Large calloused palms smoothing back your hair, plush lips sucking on your collarbone, all of it.

“You’re so beautiful. My sweet girl…”

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

He isn’t the hairiest man in the galaxy, but he does have a bit of hair down south. Nothing too extreme though. Kylo is very hygienic and well groomed, nothing to worry about here!

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

THE MOST INTIMATE. You can see in his eyes how he feels he doesn’t deserve you, doesn’t deserve your soft body beneath him. He treats you as if you’ll break, as if you’re the most precious being in the universe. Constantly asking if you’re okay, or, “Does this feel good?” He loves to serve you. To pleasure you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

As aforementioned, Kylo can’t help how hard he is around you 24/7. If he knows he’s going to see you, he’ll tuck himself away into his refresher and think of your figure, your eyes looking up at him, (that REALLY makes him cum fast) and stroke his cock with a punishing pace, imagining you slamming down on his hips. He feels a tinge of shame as he grits his teeth and releases his load onto the refresher door.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise. He feels his thighs go weak when you drag your fingers through his hair and call him a “good boy.” He’ll look up at you through heavy lids, a silent plea for more soft touches and appraisals. Also, eye contact. If you ever want anything from him, just look up at his through your eyelashes and he’ll blush like a madman, giving you whatever it is you crave.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s a very private person and extremely jealous, so he prefers to fuck you in your shared quarters. Nowhere else. Okay, maybe in his TIE, but that’s only when you beg him so sweetly; and who is he not to give his girl whatever she wants?

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

Yes. Just yes. A kiss that lingers a second too long, his name on your lips (in any context), your soft hand following the curve of his jaw. He’s a goner. If you want to torture the man, wear a low cut top around him, he’ll be desperately grabbing at your hips in no time.

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

Anything involving someone else. He’s a jealous, jealous man. All these fics about him sharing you with the KOR….girl. A big no no is anything related to degradation. Attention all Kylo writers! He would never even DREAM of calling you names or hurting you in any way. You’re his precious girl and he just loves you so so much:(

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

Virgin, remember? The first time you sucked his cock, he’s was a panting mess, brows furrowed, low moans punched from his chest, finishing in your mouth in under a minute. After a few times together, you guided him on how to eat pussy, and he definitely prefers watching your hips rock up into his face, coming undone from his warm tongue. (Kylo will never admit this, but while he was eating you out he rocked against the mattress like a rabid dog, cumming all over his stomach, a pool of his spend spreading over the sheets. Yeah, he prefers giving).

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

It depends on how much time you’ve spent apart. If he hasn’t seen you for a week, (missions, supreme leader shit) he’ll fuck into you with a strong and punishing pace, still careful not to hurt you, though. If it’s a normal day, he’ll slowly rock into you, dragging his cock along your walls in a sensual way, but you usually beg him to speed up, pushing you further and further up the mattress.

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

Kylo is a simp. He will take whatever you so kindly gift him with. You get to fuck your man whenever you so please. He gives it to you no matter the time. Day or night. He’s just so excited there’s a GIRL who wants him, his cock, this badly.

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

Nah. Not really. He’d rather savor the sex, instead of constantly looking over his shoulder. But if you drag him into a storage closet aboard and start massaging him through his leather, who is he to say no?

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

Hate to burst any bubbles here, but he’s completely inexperienced, so don’t expect him to last very long, at least not at first. He physically has to tense his muscles, eyes squeezed shut in concentration, trying so hard NOT to blow his load the second your tight wet heat engulfs his cock. His skin is flaming hot, but he’s shivering above you, groans emanating from his slacked jaw, trying to fight the way his balls draw up, the way his stomach muscles tighten already.

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

Are sex toys canon in Star Wars? Someone please lmk. But my answer is going to be no for now!

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Kylo doesn’t have to tease you, like, at all. You just want him so bad all the time and he still doesn’t understand why. However. You’re quite the tease, and this poor virgin can’t take it. Seriously, if you want to see the mighty Kylo Ren crumble, all you need to do is press a chaste kiss to his lips, put a hand on his thigh, look at him, or just breathe basically, and he’ll be hard and wanting in seconds. I love our space boyfriend.

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

Ben Swolo can make some NOISE lemme tell ya. It’s all low groans and grunts, so caught up in the heat of your body and how fucking tight you are around him. No matter how hard he tries to contain the noises that slip from his throat, he can’t help it. He’ll confidently moan and moan in your ear, minted breath hitting your cheek, letting you know his pleasure is solely from you, and you alone.

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

Kylo is what we call a service top. He would do anything to put your pleasure first, his own pleasure depends on that. He had never cum harder than that first time you clamped around his cock, finally feeling your orgasm around him. Lights flickered and whirred; it was…intense.

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

Hung like a moose omg who said that? Anyways. My guess is 7-8 inches. Good luck girl.

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

Siri play ‘Everyday’ by Ariana Grande please. Seriously. He feels fucking insane with how bad he wants to be buried in you at all times. Whether he’s tired, beaten or bruised, you could catch a dick anytime.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Kylo will eventually fall asleep cuddled up next to you, but not until he allots himself a few minutes to admire your beauty, running his thick fingers through your hair, kissing your temple until he sees you eyes flutter shut. Awe. Whatta softie.

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washeduphazbin · 10 days ago

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Vox NSFW Headcannons

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

One would think he wouldn't know what aftercare was, considering he'd lived with Valentino for so long. However, sleeping with Vox was pleasantly surprising. He is very attentive after sex, and you wondered if it was something he carried over from his time alive. Water is always by the bedside, and it gets you snacks if needed or even a hot or cold compress. Sometimes, his screen can get really bright, and he has a custom-made sleeping mask just for you if you get overstimulated after sex.

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

Vox: He likes his claws; he can be delicate with them, but they can get the work done when necessary.

You: Vox loves your skin; he likes how fragile you feel beneath his fingers.

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

Unlike many others in Hell, I think Vox is one of the rare men who doesn’t have a raging breeding kink. As long as you both get off, he doesn’t really care where he cums, inside or out. Although…on your face always paints a pretty picture.

His cum is thick and sticky and has a blue bioluminescence feature to it. Like you're (literally) turning on a computer. He cums a lot and has a shorter refractory period than most.

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

He wants to tie you up in the cables in his ‘lair’. His wires snug around your body accentuating the right parts. Vox would have full control of you, your body, and your movement. The millions of cameras in his lair would be pointed on you and set to record so he never misses a moment of you being ravaged. The way your fucked out face would appear on the millions of screens in front of you both would leave him with enough material to jack off alone for an entire year.

He also absolutely has stolen several pairs of your underwear.

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

Vox absolutely knows what he’s doing, he’s been with Valentino of all people. As fucked up as Val’s kinks are he has taught Vox a significant amount of his skills.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Cowgirl.

It’s no secret that this man gets turned on my power. Usually specifically his own, he likes being in control. **BUT** when you take control and top him he’s GONE. Insanely turned on at how you ride him into the ground.

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

Vox is absolutely not goofy in bed. He’s more serious, he can be a bit snarky with you both quipping back and forth but he takes it seriously. Especially after being with Valentino where sex meant so little, now he treats it like love making.

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

So. He has a TV for a head. So, carpets will never match the drapes. I think he wouldn’t have a lot (or any) hair.

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

He’s learned to be more romantic as the two of you progressed your relationship. Again going from Valentino to you was whiplash. At first he assumed you’d like the same stuff his ex liked but that was not the case, especially for your first time sleeping with one another.

Now he’s very romantic. He leaves you flowers every time he enters your room in the tower. When he has to leave for work he always sets up a little breakfast for you. In bed he’s much more attentive than he was at the beginning.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Oh boy, does he. He usually does it when you're not available for an extended period. If you were there, he'd much rather bury himself in your dripping pussy.

That being said, Vox absolutely has a shrine of things he’s stolen from you, mainly your panties. He uses them to jerk off, either fisting his dick with your underwear wrapped around his hand or pressing the crotch to his screen, taking in the scent of you. Other things in the shrine include your perfume, your rings, and a picture of you covered in a blue substance. The only other time he masturbates is if you make him do it in front of you, and god was that hot.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Has a mommy kink and a praise kink. Tell him he's doing an excellent job while your pussy's dripping on his face, and it's a surefire way to crash his systems. Yet, at the same time, he loves to be degraded or have anything that has to do with you being in control of him. He's also into electric stimulation, obviously. Likes when you make him bluescreen. Some errors include. _ERROR_(Y/n)'s_Pussy_too_Good.exe _ERROR_Mommy's_Punishing_Me.exe

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere, anytime. If you're both horny, he'll drag you off somewhere to blow off steam. He gets a rush from fucking in public where the press could catch them, but in reality, that would be his worst nightmare.

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

You glaring at him, cussing him out, being a stubborn hothead... etc. Any one of those will have him sporting a hard-on desperately needing your attention. Also, kissing his neck right where his circuits meet human flesh. That has him begging.

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

He's done a lot of shit with Val, but some things absolutely cross that line. Piss, Shit, or any other bodily fluid that isn't cum is one of his big ones.

He also has to say no to shower sex, not willingly; he cannot get his head wet without risking a major power blowout.

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

With Vox's long tongue, he's good at oral, can reach the deepest places, and uses his claws to keep your hips in place. You wake up covered in bruises from gripping him too tight. He has to pull your legs apart and hold them because you can't close your legs around his TV head. He loves receiving it, too, especially with you under his desk while he watches the cameras around Pride and is hooked up to the wires. If you work well enough, you can cause a city-wide blackout with just your mouth.

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

Depends on how he's feeling at the moment. He's had too many fast rough, and nonintimate fucks with Val. He appreciates smooth and sensual lovemaking. But also loves spontaneous sex; if you turn him on, he won't care where he'd find a place to fuck you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) He *LOVES* quickies. King of quickies, to be honest. Before work fuck, lunch fuck, afternoon fuck, before dinner fuck, after dinner fuck.

Most of the time, you don't know how you walk around the following days like nothing happened. If he did manage to fuck you stupid from a quickie, he would provide aftercare but still would leave to do his work at the end of the day.

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

He'll try anything once. If you say you like something, he'll give it a try; he wants to do electrical play and shibari more than anything.

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

All day, every day, several times. It's almost like because he's a computer, it's nearly like he has total control of his refractory period and when he cums. He could have you cumming five times before he finishes.

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

He has toys, plenty of them. When you live with Valentino, you know for sure every Christmas or birthday, he's getting you sex toys. You and Vox don't think he's capable of getting any of you an actual gift. Although both of you make good use of all of them

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Oh, he likes to tease. Insanely so, but then again, so do you whenever he gives you the chance. When he tops this man will delay your orgasm as much as possible while calling you 'baby girl' and complaining about how you're pathetic and needy for him.

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

This man likes to hear himself talk, so of *course* he's loud. Especially when you're sucking him off, lots of curses and mocking laughter as his claws pull and dig into your hair. When he's fucking into you, he growls and grunts saying how tight you are and how you're his perfect fuck toy.

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

He likes to film you on his screen and saves it away for later use in a file with your name on it. Val once asked if he could have access to it to sell it because it would make the Vee's an insane amount of money. Vox almost killed him for insinuating that he'd ever expose you like that; you were for his eyes only.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) He's long and slender; it glows a soft blue when it's dimly lit. There are thick veins on the underside of the shaft. The color is a deep navy blue, and the tip is light blue.

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

As discussed before, he has an incredibly high sex drive. If you don't want it one day, he'll accept it, but he will be whining about it all day. It's like you killed him or broke up with him; that's what withholding sex is like for him. He would never force himself upon you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

First, he gives you aftercare or vice versa, and then he immediately passes out. Even if you get up and shower, he's sprawled out on the bed, snoring away. You always have to maneuver your way back into the bed, moving his sprawled-out limbs. Once you're back in bed, he clings to you like a koala does to a tree branch. Then you're stuck until morning.

#x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader smut #vox x reader smut #vox x y/n #vox x you #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x you #hazbin smut #hazbin hotel smut #fem reader #reader insert smut #reader insert

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appleblueberry-pie · 10 months ago

Note

MORE YANDRE MILES PLSS I LOVE THEM

im just gonna put whatever comes to mind. trying to be as unhinged as you guys let me be. tell me if you want worse/weirder. fem reader.

Miles stopped caring about how fucked up he became when it comes to you. It doesn't matter when you're his only form of bliss he can find anymore. he kills every night. he can't sleep. he drains his mind and body every day. he has school grades to worry about and how he's gonna get the next 5 thousand from that one gang he made an agreement with two weeks ago. and, yet with the drugs he sees being slipped into people's hands on the way to school, and the syringes he feels cracking under his clean J's, the only thing that's pure enough to cleanse his mind, body, and soul is you. everyone wears the same shit to school every day, but you make it fit your personality and looks perfectly.

cut to the chase, he can't help but imagine being skin to skin with you every night. he wants you to rake your fingers into his scalp. fuck the fresh braids, he needs your nails on his skin. scratch his back, scalp, arms, anything. he wants marks of you on him any way possible. too young for certain activities, but when it comes to you, he'll fucking murder anyone. drug anyone, kill anyone for you. he hates when you pass him and he catches a whiff of your perfume, or even better, your natural musk. because he'll just stay in his head for the next few days. you're his high. he needs you.

he wants you to talk into his ears all damn day and never stop. he wants to hear you whisper, talk, laugh, cry, yell. everything. he never sees you crack a single smile in the science class you guys take together. But when he sees you howling your fucking ass off with your close friends, pushing, grabbing your friends, giggling, squealing with them, it just sets his whole body on fire. he's so fucking jealous of them, he just breaks anything in his vicinity at the thought of not having what you're giving them. he then began to wonder how he could have you for himself. he just wants you to give him all of you, and he'd obviously give you himself. why can't he have that?

when you pair up with him for a project in that science class you both share, he never thanked god so so so much in 15 seconds like he did when you began walking over to where he sat.

it gave him an excuse to stare at you and drink in every square inch of your body like he'd see an angel once and never see it again until he died. he greedily drinks in your scent while you speak. being able to see, hear, smell, and feel you if he tries hard enough, is almost overstimulating for him. he's great at hiding his emotions, but on the inside he wonders if this is what it feels like to take heroine. when you ask him a question about possible presentation ideas, he almost asks you to sit on his lap so he can hear you better.

Miles has been having maladaptive daydreams about you for the past year or so. so it was very difficult in that moment for him to separate his dreams from reality when he finally got a chance to communicate with you. before you left the class to get to your next period, you had already typed your number in his phone. he had already formed in his mind a way to locate your exact living apartment number. that way he can sneak in when you aren't there. miles needs you in his arms as soon as possible.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #reader #yandere character #across the spiderverse #atsv #miles morales #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #42 miles x reader #yandere miles morales #yandere atsv #yandere earth 42 miles morales

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look-at-the-soul · 8 days ago

Text

Every little thing you do- Part 12

Tommy Shelby x reader

Series Master list

Hello… it’s me 🫢 with another part of this series, please forgive me for taking so long, hoping the inspiration fairies will visit me soon ✨so… how will their relationship turn after this? 🥰 thank you so much for reading!

Word count: 3,514

Tommy was losing his patience, there was a snitch ruining his plans and even though he was already taking care of that, he couldn’t let his guard down. He needed to convince the Russians to be on his side and keep Father Hughes close to find his weaknesses.

The more he thought about it, the more convinced he felt about it. After leaving the Petrovna gathering he was replaying in his mind Father Hughes’ reactions, he needed to take him down and he wanted to do it himself. That priest was everything but an example to people, arrogant, thought he knew all about everything and it irritated Tommy. But the key to him was through the Russian family.

Perhaps he could eventually make the Petrovna family betray themselves if he played his hand correctly, they were desperate for money and status. He just needed to be really careful and play his part.

With a groan he made his way upstairs, feeling his steps heavy. Ada would go to sleep whenever she wanted, he had asked Mary to have a room ready for her and Karl all the time because lately they’ve been staying over more frequently. His sister had been so helpful with the last touches to the foundation, she made sure the grand opening was successful and everything was running according to the original plans. He tried to push it as long as possible, but delaying the project to wait for Y/N to wake up would be unfair for the children and deep down he knew she wouldn’t want that.

Feeling tired he threw the jacket of his suit on the bed, followed by his tie. Taking the gun from its holster, he placed the weapon in the small of his back using the waistband of his pants as support. Discarding the rest of his clothes, his mind went to the following steps of his plans, he was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t hear the knock on his door.

“Mary?”

But he heard Ada’s voice clearly followed by a gasp and a Jesus.

Turning around he found the door slightly open and he heard voices in the hallway.

“What’s the matter?” He quickly went to see what was happening.

“I j-just knocked to see if you needed anything Mr. Shelby.” Mary stammered.

Ada stared at the maid and then looked at her brother, confusion evident in her eyes.

“No thank you Mary, you can have some rest.” He quickly replied.

Just as Ada was about to talk to him, Karl started crying in her bedroom so she excused herself and rushed to calm her son.

An overwhelming feeling washed over him and his eyes fixed in Y/N’s bedroom and he couldn’t help but walk in, everything was just like she left it. The bottle of perfume she refused to use in the beginning, her hairbrush and mirror, the jewelry box… as his eyes moved across the room, he found the trunk he bought for her just a few days before she got shot, his fingers trembled when he touched the perfect woodcraft at the top. Opening it and he felt his heartbreak in two as he realized Y/N had been filling it with blankets and clothes for her baby.

A sob escaped his lips. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled into the silence. And he was, he really felt sorry for what happened to Y/N.

That room shouldn’t be dark and lonely, she should be there.

Closing the trunk he felt his chest heavy, guilt was eating him alive. The feeling was more than he could handle and he rushed to leave. Once again inside his own bedroom, Tommy went straight for a glass of whiskey, downing in mere seconds.

He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t lay down on his bed and pretend to sleep peacefully while Y/N was battling for her life in the hospital. So he went downstairs, not bothering on putting his shirt on.

Pouring himself a drink, he sat in front of the fire, his eyes fixed on the flames flicking. The correspondence piled on his desk captured his attention, it had been accumulating since Y/N wasn’t reminding him to check it. Taking a sip of his drink, Tommy stood up to grab the envelopes, going one by one, he left a few letters directed towards the children’s Institute, he was saving those for Y/N. But suddenly his eyes stopped at one of the envelopes, in bold letters it said it was urgent and important.

Returning to his previous spot at the couch, he used his knife to open it and quickly ran his eyes through the words direct to any of Arthur Sr’s children.

It basically said that his father had passed away, he was shot.

Tommy stared at the letter for a while, his eyes fixed completely in the words. The news of his Father’s passing away took him by surprise and he couldn’t help it but think about how broken their relationship was. He couldn’t recall the last time he saw him, or a happy memory in his presence.

He was just a stranger, somebody who didn’t care about him or his siblings.

And for some reason, he didn’t feel pity for the old man. In the end the old man got what he deserved.

Battling with the internal turmoil, he decided to gather the following day his brothers and some peaky men to hunt, there wasn’t an ideal way to share the news and deep down he knew all his brothers had a difficult relationship with their father, but he hoped it was the right thing to do, to try to gain some closure.

That and sharing the plans for his next move, he needed to recruit the best men and also work on finding the Duchess’s weakness, she’d be fundamental to carry on his plans but she was smart and she’d want something in return.

And soon he’d confirm it, because by the time he returned home the following day there was a Bentley parked outside his house.

For fucks sake, he thought. He wasn’t expecting Tatiana it was just a bold move from her, she was desperate and pathetic.

Her seduction tactics were literally a joke, se was just a spoiled little princess living of dreams and people bowing. When she placed her hand on his cheek, Tommy didn’t feel anything, she’d probably provide a good blowjob, a wild one night stand… but that was it.

“You seem a bit off.” She soon realized by his lack of enthusiasm.

“I’m tired.” He lied, it slipped off his lips so easily.

“Mary is quite a character.” Tatiana stated folding her arms. “She seems so loyal.”

Tommy took his cigarette case and raised his eyebrows nonchalantly. “Hmm.”

“I’ve a theory about maids, there’s always one in love with her master, fantasizing about you, she’d do anything you ask.” The Duchess chuckled about her own words.

Tommy stared at her with his head tilted to the side. She was using her free time to make fucking theories about the maids instead of doing something useful.

“And what’s the result for your theory?”

“I think for you, that maid it’s Mary.” Tatiana laughed. “Haven’t you notice something off?”

Tommy wanted to roll his eyes at her. Her level of boredom amused but didn’t surprise him.

“Do you’ve an employee after you?” He asked instead.

“Oh yes. Maybe I can confirm it tonight, see her reaction squirming and getting uncomfortable.”

Tommy thought how twisted and sick Tatiana was. He didn’t want to know if her stupid theory was right, he didn’t want to put on a show in front of his maid.

He was desperately looking for a way to escape her, to find a way out of that situation because Tatiana seemed determined to carry on her own plans, but rejecting her, would cause him a lot of trouble so he needed to play along…just as he was about to sit next to her when the phone started ringing.

His heart stopped beating for a moment, sudden phone calls this late only meant bad news.

“Arrow House.” He replied automatically, praying for the first time.

“Tom? Is that ye?” Johnny Dogs asked.

“What’s the matter?”

“It’s Y/N…. She’s awake.”

Tommy didn’t listen to the following, Johnny’s voice sounded so far away. He felt underwater, like he was dreaming, the shovels on the wall hammering his brain. Somehow he asked Mary to get someone to drive Tatiana back home and then he rushed towards the door grabbing his coat in the process, leaving the Duchess perplexed and fuming for not getting the attention she thought she deserved.

If someone asked him what happened in between that phone call and the drive towards the hospital he wouldn’t be able to explain it. He didn’t know how he was able to drive, his hands were shaking, his heart was pounding like thunder.

And right now he didn’t care if Y/N’s family kicked him out, he would step back from her life if they wanted to, but he had to see her.

But it was impossible and not because of her family, but because there were a dozen of people inside her bedroom, between doctors and nurses. They needed to take samples for exams, do endless examinations and run tests to be able to determine the damage and consequences.

He spent the entire night pacing the white hallway up and down. Trying to have a word with each hospital staff that left her room, they still didn’t have answers.

His neck protested when he looked up, finding Y/N’s grandma sitting on an uncomfortable chair, the sun was almost up.

“Did you see her?”

The woman gave him a nod. “She squeezed my hand.”

“Why don’t you go and have some rest, I’ll stay here.” Tommy offered.

But she was already shaking her head. “No until I know she’s fine.”

Aching for a smoke, Tommy had no choice but to lean forward. “Do you remember when she fell from the fence and hit her head?”

They both chuckled at the memory.

“Was that when you asked me for a needle and thread to sew something?”

A smile formed on his lips, he was so fucking scared when he saw the blood, that he went pale. And when her grandma squinted her eyes and asked what really happened he told her the truth. In the end the blood came from the scratch on her knee but she rubbed her temple, therefore why she had blood on her head.

“I knew she wouldn’t give up.” Her grandma added patting his arm. “And you shouldn’t either.”

Confused by her statement, Tommy looked at her, but the woman got up and walked towards the reception. Leaving him to deal with the internal turmoil that just started inside him.

All kinds of people walked past him, some visiting, some leaving, a few nuns with a Bible and a basket of sandwiches… he had already paid a nurse to keep him updated before anyone else, and unlike his usual reactions he kept away from making a scandal, decided to keep a low profile for Y/N’s sake.

“She didn’t want to, but had a few sips of soup.” The nurse informed him with a smile.

But when a doctor approached him in the waiting room, his face changed. Was something wrong?

“Her mother refused, but the patient has been asking to see you.”

“She said she wouldn’t let anyone run any other test or check on her, they’re actually arguing about it as we speak, she’s quite stubborn.”

Touching the match inside the pocket of his coat, Tommy rubbed the edge nervously.

Tommy left his comfortable position against the wall he had adopted for the last few minutes and grabbed the doctor’s shoulders.

“How’s she doing? How’s the baby?”

“Her physical exam is well, she recognized everyone and if she’s already arguing with her mother, it’d take it as a good sign.” The doctor explained. “But we still have to wait for the blood sample and other studies.”

Feeling some relief, Tommy sighed loudly, leaning his head against the wall. A few minutes passed before he could put a step inside her room.

Hesitating first, Tommy took his time before opening the door. He wasn’t ready for the way her sight hit him.

The moment he had been waiting patiently finally was happening; Y/N was sitting on her hospital bed, a bandage crossing her from shoulder to shoulder, she looked pale and fragile and the attempt of smile seemed to demand a lot of effort from her, but she was alive… and she was awake.

“Thought you’d show up with quite a gang and start blinding everybody.”

She managed to say, it was a bit strange to speak for now, her throat felt dry.

Her statement made him swallow the lump in his throat to laugh, but he also felt like crying so everything got stuck and he couldn’t answer right away.

“I was about to if you didn’t wake up.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.”

He took a step closer, his fingers touched the feet of her bed, she had a sheet on top to cover for modesty.

“Can I give you a hug?” He asked out of the blue.

It was so unlike him, but he felt if he didn’t touch her, he wouldn’t believe this was really happening. Before she could even nod, he welcomed her into his embrace. Carefully to not hurt her.

“I’m so fucking happy to see you.” He whispered, not fully believing it was happening.

“Hey, did you really think I’d give up so easily?” Y/N ran her hands all over his back. “I learned from the best.”

“Fucking finally.” Tommy couldn’t suppress the chuckle she provoked. “I’m so sorry.” Tommy cracked but Y/N shook her head.

“It wasn’t your fault, stop it.”

In response, Tommy could only hold her hand gently and kiss her knuckles.

“Tommy please, stop.” She pleaded nervously, breaking away the contact between them.

Now that she was awake how could he carry on hiding his feelings for her?

“I hope we’re able to continue the pending examinations and tests?” The doctor stood by the door, holding her record, but before they could tell him to walk in, Y/N let out a pained sigh, bending over her bump.

Tommy reacted immediately passing one of his arms over her shoulders, but feeling useless not knowing what to do.

“Take it easy Miss, deep breaths.”

Tommy gave him a shocked and offended look. “What do you mean deep breaths? Give her something!”

“Unfortunately due to her pregnancy she can’t take most of the medication, since we can’t take the bullet out yet…”

Tommy was fuming, how come they couldn’t do anything? Something?

“When will I be able to be discharged?” Y/N asked tentatively, leaning to her right felt much better.

“If your tests come out clean, you can go.”

That was a relief, partly because to Tommy it was another thing to worry about, Y/N needed protection and someone to be with her 24/7.

“That’s wonderful news.” Y/N’s mother stated from the door, ignoring Tommy she walked to be by her daughter side.

Things between them were still like a bumpy road, her parents basically ignored him and he decided to do the same for Y/N’s sake.

“I don’t want you to feel overwhelmed, there’s a lot of things to catch up on, but the most important thing right now is yours and the baby well-being.” He explained to Y/N.

“I can’t wait to have you back at home an-“ Y/N’s mother started to say, but her daughter’s look was charged with concern and confusion.

“Mother I’m not going back to the house…” She stated through gritted teeth.

“Don’t be ridiculous, where else could you possibly go?”

“My house.” Tommy answered bluntly, not giving it a second thought.

The doctor confirmed right there it was a tricky situation but his job was to cure people, not being in the middle of a family drama.

“I’d highly suggest for now to focus on the patient, you can figure out whatever you need to later on. She’ll need space because the following months will be hard until the birth, then we can take the bullet out.”

His firm statement laid above Tommy, Y/N and her mother like they were holding a fragile veil. Everyone trying to keep their side up while checking the others to prevent it from touching the floor.

“Now if you excuse me, I’ve to run some tests.”

Tommy caught the cue immediately, but Y/N’s mother didn’t move. “If you excuse me Mrs?”

She scoffed and gave the doctor an offended look before leaving the room.

“Sorry about that.”

“For what? I didn’t see anything.” He gave her a reassuring smile, helping Y/N relax for a moment at least.

Y/N heard a voice in the distance, but her eyes felt heavy. The pain expanded through her body like a wave back and forth. It was hard to find a comfortable position to sleep in but she didn’t want to complain, she was alive because of some miracle.

She just wanted to be alright for her baby, she couldn’t wait to hold the little bundle in her arms.

Slowly she opened her eyes and waited until they adjusted to the light of the room.

“Where you dreaming?” Her sister Lee Anne asked, her eyes full of curiosity.

“Yeah, I was rocking the baby to sleep.” Y/N replied, the image was so vivid. “Where’s everyone?”

“Grandma went to the house to have some rest, Mum is running some errands…” Lee Anne then looked to the door.

“What is it?”

Y/N knew her sister so well, there was something she wasn’t telling her.

“Mum had a disagreement with Tommy and asked him to stay away from you, then you woke up and I heard Mom and Dad arguing again about what will happen when you get discharged.”

Y/N tilted her head up, to the ceiling not wanting to get into that just yet. She could tell her Mum wanted her home again by the comments she had been making all day. Small hints here and there, making decisions about her life, about her child.

“But I don’t want you to worry.” Lee Anne quickly tried to explain.

“Let me guess, Dad is still against it.”

Her sister felt a rush of guilt take over, but she wanted Y/N to know what was happening.

“I’m just done, you know?” Y/N expressed tiredly.

And suddenly Y/N broke into tears, she was a crying mess. Feeling all over the place she couldn’t even name her feelings. The sudden memory of getting shot assaulted her, blood and shouting surrounded her, and when she saw Tommy’s face full of panic, the fear in his eyes was all she could see every time she closed her eyes.

The realization of what might have happened, if the bullet had hit her stomach or her heart…

“It’s alright.” Her sister tried to comfort her, but it wasn’t working.

She had been trying to be strong. But she was scared.

“What if they try to come again and finish what they started?” Y/N asked, her voice full of worry.

“I won’t let that happen.” Tommy’s voice filled the room, neither of them noticed he was standing close enough to hear Y/N’s words, so he took them by surprise.

“Tommy…” Y/N said his breathlessly, knowing him the way she did, she knew he felt guilty, she could see it in his eyes.

“Even if I’ve to stand outside your door all day and night, I promise you nothing bad will ever reach you again.”

Y/N nodded, trying to not break in front of him, her sister sneaked out quietly choosing to wait for her Mother in the waiting room.

“I’ve taken care of that already, they better no try to hurt y-”

Y/N froze as she processed his word. “Wait, what do you mean? What happened ?”

Tommy looked away, he desperately wanted to change the subject. “Nothing.”

Placing her hand on his arm, she made him look down at her. “Tommy, tell me what did you do.”

Suddenly his tie felt so tight.

How could he tell her he killed someone? He was trying to make his businesses legal, he wanted to make her feel proud of him.

Towering over her, Tommy cupped her cheek gently, giving her a look of adoration. “You’ve nothing to worry about, hmm?”

Staring into his eyes, she realized he wasn’t telling her something, but at the same time she could see the worry in his eyes… and something else she couldn’t name, but yet she felt familiar with.

“Listen, Y/N there’s something I need to tell you.”

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@moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @narlytude @winchestergirl22

@zablife @elk96 @blondie-22 @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144

@peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @lau219

@adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @lauren-raines-x

@everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @red-riding-wood @lovemissyhoneybee @theendlessvoidofdarkest

@wannabeperfectionists-blog (can’t tag) @yeppaweshallsee (can’t tag) @skydisneylover (can’t tag) @holacia3 @galactict3a @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @ietss @abaker74

@natalie--rushman @elliaze @justrainandcoffee @teawonderfultea-blog1

#that’s what Cill said #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x fem!reader #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby x imagine #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x you

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sherewrytes · 6 months ago

Text

ℙ𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣 𝕋𝕣𝕚𝕡, 𝕆𝕟𝕪𝕒𝕟𝕜𝕠𝕡𝕠𝕟

(I'll always want you part Final)

Link for part three here

dividers by @Cafekitsune

Song inspo: Power Trip - J Cole

C.W: angst, drug use, smut. MORE ANGST.

Ony hadn't seen you since the party. Well, he saw you on campus, at mutual friends' parties, but y'all kept your distance from each other. It's been 18 months since you two broke up and almost a year since Armin's party. Ony had been back in the studio more than ever, working on his upcoming album. Between uni, social media, and studio time, he thought he'd be able to keep his mind off you. But he couldn't. His thoughts always wandered back to you. He'd stalk your socials every now and then and saw that you finally launched your brand, Xerar.

Ony was in the studio, working on a song called "Power Trip" with his producer/rapper best friend Eren for the final track on his album. He was smoking a blunt with Eren, Connie, Armin, and Jean when they started talking about your upcoming fashion show.

Eren: Aye Jean, you going to Xerar's launch man. Jean: Who's throwing that again. I don't keep up much with fashion Armin: You idiot, it's y/n's launch and her fashion show Connie: *Passes blunt to Eren* Man I aint missing that, she's been working on that shit forever. Plus, I gots be there since imma model and shit

Eren passes the blunt to Ony then watches his expression. Ony's eyes widened listening to his friend's conversation. He slowly realized everyone was invited but him. Everyone noticed his silence and quickly switched the topic.

Ony's mind momentarily had a flashback He remembered the nights working with you on your sketches, you bouncing ideas off him. Him helping you pick fabric swatches and the works. Ony felt sick to his stomach.

He moved away from his friends, put on his headphones, and started writing trying to clear his mind and probably work on another single.

Connie watched Ony over in the corner chilling with his headphones in smoking and writing. His aura a bit broken.

Connie playfully shoved Eren and said, "Man, you know he still holds a torch for her. Why you gotta mention it?"

Eren scoffed and said, "It's time he let go, man."

Ony left the studio when no one was looking and headed home. He found himself smoking a cigarette in bed, staring at the ceiling, mind running on times that no longer existed. He sighed, rubbing his hands against his face, he contemplated calling over someone to fuck the thoughts away, but he knew it usually left him feeling worse. He stubbed out his cigarette in the bedside ashtray stared into space hoping the pain would eat him alive.

Ony was smoking on the balcony of his apartment, looking out at the night sky when his phone rang. He answered without checking it. He heard your voice, "Hey Ony, what's up?"

Ony was shocked that you called but played it cool. "Hey, I'm good. Just on my balcony hittin' a blunt. What made you call me?" You heard Ony inhale through the phone. "Just curious to see how you're doing, Soro."

You calling Ony by his artist's name made him laugh a bit. You asked Ony to come over. You heard him hesitate, then he said OKAY and that the passcode for his apartment door was the same. You laughed and hung up.

Ony confused and in a fit of paranoia called Eren. "Hey man..fuck y/n called me now she's coming over. Idk what to do man."

Eren laughed then told Ony "Bro, calm down, probably take another hit of that blunt you're smokin right now and relax. Some of us sleep in the night man." Ony laughed and ended the call with Eren.

Thirty minutes later, Ony felt your presence before he saw you. You looked the same but different. You were wearing his old navy blue College Dropout hoodie from Kanye West that you stole from him and grey sweat shorts.

Ony watched you sit next to him, sparking up a blunt of your own. You both sat in silence until Ony said, "I'm glad to see you, Y/N." Ony smelled the faint scent of your usual perfume mixed with your favorite bedtime body mist and it had him tweaking a bit.

This was the moment he had been waiting for. The moment when he could really patch things up once and for all. He needed to be as honest as he could to make up for his mistakes. Ony was thinking to himself,

Why do I feel so nervous? I don't care. I have to speak my heart out.

His voice came out a little broken but heavy. "Y/N, I..." Ony's words failed him. It was so hard for him to speak when all he could see was your beautiful face.

"Hi Ony," you said. Hearing your voice in person sent him crazy. He tried to calm his mental. Ony wasn't sure what to say, so he just stared at you while you were smoking your blunt.

You felt him staring you up and down. He watched the moonlight hit your face, and it made him want you. Ony tried to speak again, but nothing came out. He thought to himself again,

Why is it so hard to say 'I love you' to her right now? This is frustrating. I need to say it. I've prepared myself for this. This is my second chance to fix everything. This is my one and only chance to make her happy again. It's time to stop hesitating and open my heart.

Ony watched you stub out your blunt and turn to face him. "Ony, what do you have to say to me?" Ony sighed and poured his heart out.

"Y/N, I know I messed up. I know I hurt you. I cheated, and I can't take that back. But I've been thinkin' 'bout you every damn day. I still love you, and I can't shake that. It's been almost two years, and I should've moved on, but I can't. Every waking moment, every dream is about you. I'm sorry for everything, for causing you so much pain. I just want a chance to make things right."

You sat there in silence, the words hanging heavy in the air.

Ony murmured, "Do you hate me, Y/N? Like, for real, do you?"

Ony was met with silence again. Ony sighed and started up again,

"I still love you, Y/N. I know it's been almost two years. I should move on, be more focused, but every waking moment, every dream is about you. I hate that I cheated and fucked up, Ma."

Ony watched you fix your hair and saw the Versace bracelet he got you still on your wrist. He thought to himself, "Why didn't she return that with all the other stuff?"

He wanted to ask about it but ignored it. He watched you rise from your seat, walk over to the balcony, and stare at the night sky.

Ony opted to change the music playing in the background. He switched it from "Dr. Suess" by Ski Mask to "Power Trip" by J. Cole ft. Miguel.

Ony sat there staring at you and continued smoking until he heard you say, "What do you really want, Ony?"

Ony thought his ears were playing tricks on him, then he responded,

"Are you askin' me what I want right now, Ma?" "Yeah, right now."

He took another hit, then said, "Honestly, I wanna hug you right now. I wanna hold you tight and feel your warmth as I tell you that I love you."

Silence again. Ony watched you fish a blunt out of your lil purse you came with while coming to sit next to him and said, "How about you smoke this with me?"

Ony pulled out his lighter and lit the blunt hanging from your lips in silence, his eyes locked with yours, he was the first to look away. He was lost in thought.

"She so damn beautiful takin' a drag. Missed this. Her lips, damn, so beautiful. First time in forever, I'm seein' it. Thinkin' 'bout kissin' her, scared 'cause we been apart so long. Don't wanna mess this moment."

Ony took the blunt from you and took a drag still deep in thought. *thinking to himself*

"View's beautiful now. Moonlight, city quiet. Us two, world feelin' small. Beautiful moment. Don't want it to end. Enjoyin' it, appreciatin' her bein' here, missed it so much."

With a smile on his face, Ony said, "You the most beautiful woman in this world. I swear you're perfect."

You turn to Ony and said, "Ony, it’s not just about the apology or just buttering me up with sweet words. It’s about trust. You broke it, and I don’t know if we can ever get it back."

He nodded, taking in your words. "I get it. Can't stop thinkin' 'bout us, what we had. What could've been. Tryna move on, stuck in the past."

You took a deep breath, the weight of his words sinking in. "Ony, I’ve tried to move on too. I’ve been focusing on my brand, on myself. But seeing you, hearing you say all this, it brings everything back. I don’t know if I can go through that pain again."

He leaned closer, his eyes pleading. "Y/N, I know I don’t deserve another chance. But I’m asking for one. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. I still love you, and I don’t want to spend my life wondering what could have been."

You looked away, the night sky providing a momentary distraction from the intensity of the conversation. "Ony, it’s not that simple. We can’t just go back to how things were. We’ve both changed."

He reached out, gently turning your face back to him. "I know we can’t go back. But maybe we can start over. Build something new, something stronger. Please, Y/N, give us a chance."

You sighed, feeling the weight of his words and the sincerity in his eyes. "Ony, I don’t know if I can. But I’m willing to try. One step at a time."

A small smile formed on Ony's lips as he nodded, hope flickering in his eyes. "That’s all I’m asking for. One step at a time."

You both sat there, the silence now filled with a sense of cautious hope. Ony leaned over to kiss you but you exhale smoke directly in to his face. Ony smirked then let out a chuckle. Ony whispered while taking a hit from the blunt in your hands "You know how that gets me ma."

Ony leans in again and kisses you this time exhaling the smoke directly into your mouth as you inhale and kiss him back. Ony watched as your eyes got low and red just like his while they were you were smiling at him made it obvious to him you were blushing heavily.

"I miss that look in your eyes a lot." blunt now forgotten, you and ony were making out heavily. Ony pulled you onto his lap. his hands roamed your body causing you to grind against his clothed body. Ony felt like he was losing his mind having you back with him like this felt like magic. Like a fever dream

As the night wore on, you and Ony talkin', reminiscin', fuckin,ownin' up to mistakes. No fix-all, but a start. Tiny step towards healin', maybe somethin' more down the line.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

The shrill sound of Ony's phone alarm shattered the moment, dragging him out of his dreamy haze.

Ony shot up on the bed wiping his face, feelin' hot and sweaty. Thinking out loud he said "It was so real. Like I was really with her... but that ain't possible. It was just a dream."

He gotta admit he miss her so bad. He loves everything about her. Her deep brown eyes, her dark hair, her beautiful face, her gentle and soft smile. He misses the little things about her, even her annoying habits and the small gestures she does without thinkin'.

He wishes it wasn't just a dream. He wishes it was real...

Ony felt like he wanted to scream. He turned off his phone alarm and saw texts from Eren

Ony felt a scream building in his chest. He turned off his phone alarm and glanced at Eren's texts, irritation bubbling up. Connie had exposed his vulnerability without truly grasping it. Plugging his phone to charge, Ony considered rolling another blunt. He had class today but couldn't bear the thought of facing anyone. Deep down, he knew his self-destructive behavior was spiraling out of control, but he felt powerless to change it.

He roamed around his apartment, trying to clear his mind, then suddenly

BANG BANG BANG

He heard a banging on his apartment door. He kissed his teeth and went to open it and saw. Connie, Armin, Connie, Mikasa and Sasha at his door. He almost slammed the door back in the faces, but Eren pushed the door open letting everyone in. Eren walked straight for where Ony usually kept his stash and dumped out his weed and Eren saw the pills and his eyes teared up almost immediately.

Eren grabbed Ony by the shoulders, attempting to shake some sense into Ony but nothing registered for Ony.

HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN GOING ON BRO, ONY, ARE YOU HEARING, ARE YOU HIGH ON SUM ONYANKOPON! BRO!

Eren raised his voice trying to talk to Ony but he just stayed silent. Mikasa looked through the pills. There was molly, percs and even some Xanax.

Connie chimed in asking Ony "Floch sold you these pills man like for real. He is the only dude on campus that got this shit."

Ony looked around the room at his friends and all he could think of was you. You'd hate to see him right now. This wasn't the Ony you fell in love with. The one who held your hand, stayed up when you cried about your finals. He was a far cry from that person.

Ony's world was shaken when he saw his older brother and sister walk in his apartment door. He knew what this was. An Intervention. All he prayed that his parents weren't here to see this.

His sister looked at him with sad eyes while his brother was furious.

All his sister said is "Mom and Dad knows, they were gonna disown you but Kwesi (Ony's older brother) explained everything to them. You gotta get help man. You're killing yourself. Are you sure this is all about y/n"

Ony stayed silent for a long moment then said "After finals. I'll get help. Let me just finish finals. That's all. This aint on y/n it's on me. I dont wanna hear anyone blaming her for shit."

Ony walked off, absentmindedly reaching for the cigarettes on the console table when it was pulled out his hand by Sasha.

Ony scoffed leaving everyone in the living room area, to sit out on the balcony alone. He needed a moment to just think.

He grabbed his iPad sitting on the table and mindlessly scrolled through IG when he saw a picture of you cuddled up with Lead Singer of the band ErrxR Reiner Braun. He dropped his iPad, watching the screen crack on the ground.

The little hope he had in his heart, that you and he could be once again is long gone. You moved on leaving him truly alone in the chaos of his own doing.

The End

#aot x you #aot x black reader #black tumblr #onyankopon x reader #aot onyankopon #connie springer #aot x reader #black reader #ony x black reader #onyankopon smut #aot smut #aot x y/n

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blueberrymocha · 5 months ago

Text

killua alphabet

A: how affectionate are they?

✰ he's not affectionate. he's not very used to it obviously, growing up how he did. it'd probably fluster him a lot too, so it'd take a lot of time before he showed you much affection.

B: would they break up with their partner?

✰ i don't think so. he's pretty commutative with you so if you were having troubles, he'd prefer to talk it out over ending things.

✰ if he were to though, he's the type not to tell you in person, leaving a note or message.

C: what is cuddling like with them?

✰ he's not picky, sometimes he could be sprawled across you while other times you'll be spooning him. if you asked him, he wouldn't turn it down but he himself rarely initiates, so you'd probably only cuddle at night or if you weren't feeling well.

D: what do your dates look like?

✰ mostly doing activities together. he'd prefer you're not just sitting around since you already have plenty time to do that. some of his favorites would be skateboarding, training/sparring, arcade, and surfing.

E: do they have a lot of energy?

✰ definitely not. he's super laidback and chill, but he'd love a partner who balanced him out by being wild and energized.

F: who made the first move?

✰ you did. it definitely seemed like a one sided crush for you, so you never intended to tell him. but once while you were having an fight, it slipped out and he was like :0 "you too?"

G: what kind of gifts do they give you?

✰ he'd be so greedy when it came to anyone else, but with you he always shares. so instead of buying you a ton of gifts, he gives you bites of his food or lets you borrow his clothing.

✰ when he does buy a gift though, it's not cheap at all. he has a good balance of thoughtful and expensive, so it'll probably be something you like to use often, such as perfume in your favorite scent.

H: would they have any habits?

✰ staying up late/pulling all-nighters. he just doesn't sleep for some reason. you can pull him into bed, but a good quarter of the time he'll just stay awake.

I: how often do they say "i love you"?

✰ he's a little too embarrassed to say it to your face, so he'll tell you when you're sleeping or on call. so while technically quite often, the only time you'd hear it is on special occasions like your birthday.

J: what's it like when they're jealous?

✰ he's super cold and rude to the person he's jealous of. he might also get snappy with you. if it goes on for too long he'll find some excuse and end the exchange himself.

✰ he'd definitely be in a bad mood the rest of the day unless you pulled him to the side and talked about it. once you reassure him that you don't care for the other person, his whole demeanor changes and he completely denies ever being jealous.

K: how do they feel about kids?

✰ he's too young to have given it much thought. not to mention while growing up, he'd never expected to love someone enough to start a family anyway.

✰ if you did decide to have children, he wants a daughter so bad. he literally radiates girl dad energy.

L: how loyal are they?

✰ fully committed to you. there's just no chance this boy would ever leave you, especially not for someone else.

M: what are mornings like with them?

✰ he's very soft in the morning, much lower energy than during the day. you'd probably wake up to him with an arm around you while he talks about any plans today. once you're fully awake, he'd be back to his usual self, asking what you want to do for breakfast.

N: what nicknames do they call you?

✰ nothing romantic. he'd use an inside joke and never let you live it down. he's too much of a tsundere to actually be nice 💀

O: how observant are they?

✰ he's pretty observant, but he also has a habit of reading into things too much or doubting himself. if he noticed something going on with you, like you're in a bad mood and keep complaining about cramps, he'd assume it's your period but would shy away from confirming it incase he jumped to conclusions.

P: how do they feel about pda?

✰ not for him. even if you like it, he still wouldn't want to. he just doesn't want to be that couple who's all over eachother in public.

Q: how quick do they fall in love?

✰ it takes a while. people don't grow on him fast to begin with, and you're his first love so it's also an unfamiliar feeling. once he does realize his love, he'd probably deny or ignore it.

R: how romantic would they be?

✰ not at all in your day to day life. on anniversaries and birthdays though, he'd plan things out and be much more confident.

✰ i see him as a rose petals leading you to the box of gourmet chocolates with a pretty card and teddy bear before taking you to your favorite restaurant on valentine's day type of guy.

✰ but again he's only like that when he has time to prepare. otherwise, he’s so unromantic it’s as if you’re just friends…

S: what would they smell like?

✰ he doesn't have a strong scent. you probably wouldn't smell anything unless he'd just put on cologne or whatever. speaking of, i see him enjoying sweet scents, he's big on vanilla.

T: how do they show they trust you?

✰ when he lets you show him physical affection. he wouldn't lay in the lap of anyone else, so if he's reciprocative to your touch, he trusts you a lot.

U: how understanding are they?

✰ he can be unintentionally apathetic and too honest sometimes, but if you need grace he'll always hear you out. and while he might not understand, he's there for you the best he can be.

V: how vulnerable are they with you?

✰ he's never vulnerable unless he has a nightmare. he mostly wants to move on from the past, so he wouldn't talk about what happened during his childhood a lot.

✰ when he does talk, he really doesn't know how to say things, so it's more of a rambling. he'd be so thankful if you'd just wrap your arms around him while he finds the right words.

W: whole, do they feel incomplete without you?

✰ for sure. the two of you are joined at the hip, he’ll want to do everything with you. if you ever have to be apart, he’ll still try and keep contact. in cases where it’s not possible, he’d be very irritable the whole time.

✰ he gets used to your presence surprisingly easily, so its like he’s missing something whenever you’re gone.

X: whats an xtra headcanon?

✰ his hair is super fluffy. i feel like mito might've said something like that in 1999, so if she did i totally agree.

Y: how many years would they wait to propose?

✰ he'd ideally wait until your mid twenties. he doesn't see a rush to get married and wants the two of you to enjoy the dating stage. if you happen to be adamant about marrying young, he’ll propose a lot quicker, after all, your happiness comes first.

Z: zzz, who falls asleep first?

✰ you, no question.

#hxh x reader #hxh hcs #hxh headcanons #hxh imagines #killua x reader #hxh killua

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wosemi-sama · 9 months ago

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and the crowd went mild 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 also no chara dividers im lazy rn

these r so short id add more but im rushing rn sorry lmfao 😭😭😭

intended lowercase!

misc. obm hcs

LUCIFER

wakes up at the ass crack of dawn every single morning.

wears those old man pjs. with the long hat and fuzzy slippers and gown. you know the one.

most bitter coffee you've ever had in your life how he can drink it is astonishing.

his bed, his mattress, his pillows are all as hard as rock how does this man SLEEP.

sleeps like hes the corpse at the funeral hes that one image

MAMMON

will pull you into a headlock and call it a hug.

LEVIATHAN

guy who had mountain dew and cheeto dust in his veins instead of blood. guy who marinates in his room for two months straight. guy who- (i am immediately shot dead).

did a collab with the anti-lucifer league to create a 100k words dialuci fic to piss off lucifer (dont worry about him he got paid in anime and tsl merch).

TRULY believes he is the #1 tsl fan. and also #1 ruri fan.

wimp who VOLUNTARILY makes you cosplays if you are a cosplayer or even if you aren't. it will happen.

vtuber fan. he was like "hey i wanna be a streamer but i dont wanna show my face but i also want to be an anime boy! wait-" and now hes a vtuber.

has accidentally referred to all of his brothers as "chat" at least once. hes never recovering from that btw.

SATAN

cannot stop annotating books he reads for the life of him.

all of his books are just filled to the brim with sticky notes because all he does is annotate.

once he has a crush he will start imagining him and them in the same scenarios as the characters in romance novels he read. (loser alert!!)

sneaking a new cat into hol like once a week (he never succeeds btw).

ASMODEUS

oh boy his room REEKS of perfume and body spray.

"i sprayed my new perfume in every nook and cranny! smells so floral and elegant, don't you think?" (it smells like a bath and body works threw up.)

surprisingly plays the trumpet and BOY is he loud. bro is absolutely blasting those notes.

worst driver ever btw.

BEELZEBUB

freckles all over!! like a lot. *im not beating the insane allegations*

ate like 27 family size dorito bags, 30 dollars worth of taco bell, and four sprites in one sitting and he still hasnt recovered.

sleeps. like a lot. not as much as belphie but enough to be considered an eepy guy.

BELPHEGOR

will randomly grab every blanket and pillow he can get his hands on and make a nest in the common room if he's up to it. and then have everyone make a dog pile in it just so they can hang out and be silly.

will NOT clean it up afterwards. lucifer will tell him to and his only response will be "im tired..."

freckles like beel too i think theyre silly.

9829364 cow plushies. (theyre all from lucifer)

SOLOMON

will randomly gaslight people for no reason

"hey did you do the homework"

homework? what homework? there was homework? my, what even is homework? never heard of that.

"hey, i heard of this animal from the human world called a giraffe! can i see a picture?"

what? what's a giraffe? oh, those!! yeah, they're just myths. they're not real. purely fiction!!

yk that one post about tumblr funnyman solomon. he is a tumblr funnyman to me. he confidently posts his exploded spaghetti and gets 10k notes i think.

SIMEON

has a book club with satan and solomon. :)

probably writes oneshots of the brothers on tumblr idfk man (sorry to the simeon fans i write like nothing on this guy bro).

LUKE

bodily six ("but didnt the devs say hes ten?" shut up. /j)

along with that, also shorter than in canon. (since hes. yk. a first grader. that BOY is not five foot hes one sauce packet long dude.)

favorite store in the human world is walmart. i like to think his human world outfit is all exclusively from walmart bc thats funny i think.

DIAVOLO

hands of STEEL. he tries to grab your wrist and he nearly crushes it by accident.

ice cream!! he loves it :) his favorite is strawberry btw.

also this boy is NOT a himbo hes a smart man.

needs like a hug and some sleep and also a friend this boy works too much!!

BARBATOS

short. like really short. especially according to devildom standards since most demons are super tall.

"but isn't he six feet?" not in my heart.

somehow always making tea for some reason?? if he's not making tea then he's making pastries.

my boy does not SLEEP. hasn't slept since the sun has been birthed and doesn't plan on ever doing it.

#a letter from yours truly!💌#obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me solomon #obey me luke #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #not tagging sim i dont wanna disappoint the fans lmao

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vampiretendencies · 2 years ago

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request; reader and jj seeing each other after a while apart? like reader was on a vacation or something? thank you

warnings; fluff, the end may be suggestive if you take it that way

pairing; jj x fem!reader

authors note; i didn’t know if this was for a blurb or an imagine but i assume it’s for a blurb. but yes again, i am having a bit of writers block, almost through it. so i’m writing from the list of prompts below for blurbs or you can send in your own idea for one. as well as imagines and etc.

JJ has resorted to spraying your perfume on his pillow.

He’s fucking miserable, to say the least.

The flowery scented spray; something you’d accidentally left at the chateau— from sleeping in with JJ and snotty goodbyes upon leaving for vacation.

He begged and pleaded, even tried to convince your parents to let you stay.

It was always ‘no, this has already been planned.’

Now this wasn’t some all expense paid trip, as if you were a Kook or something. Your parents had been saving up to go on a get away for months now— you were a pogue to your core, well that’s where you thought you fit anway.

Though he knows your arrival is minutes away, he’s still snuggled with the pillow; holding onto it for dear life. Sniffing it every now and then so he could be pulled back into sweet melodic memories of what was.

He didn’t have your touch for nearly two weeks, which he constantly craved and hungered for— no delicate, slow and ravenous kisses. No more ‘this is my excuse to touch your ass’ hugs. No more sleeping directly on top of you.

Not a thing.

JJ is completely irritable, annoyed, and touch-starved. So out of his element that whilst the rest of the Pogues went fishing he stayed, and waited.

Because he’d wait for you in the burning sun and the pouring rain, no matter the circumstance he’s there.

He’s convinced he’s not even breathing normally and that he’s having heart palpitations.

He’s not sure how he even made it this far.

But today’s the day.

Today’s the fucking day he gets to touch all over you like a wild animal, and he can’t wait a minute fucking longer.

Prior to this final moments alone he’d been in the mirror combing through his hair. A single piece of his blonde tresses stood taller than the rest, nitpicking really— because he normally wouldn’t care about such a thing.

But he feels like a small child awaiting for a piece of their favorite candy.

Or someone that just won the lottery.

He’s not nervous, no, merely yearning for you and wanting everything to be in its right place.

At the right time.

He’d also checked his breath multiple times, awaiting the most silky, sensual kiss he could fathom.

JJ is jumping up from the couch at the impounding sound of your knock. And it’s music to his ears.

The door nearly flung off of its hinges, and he’s drowning in joy to see your short frame on the other end. Breeze fanning your hair effervescently; both sharing a grin so huge that cheek bones reached the corners of their eyes.

JJ's picking you up like clockwork, so effortlessly and sustaining. Walking backward on his heel clad combat boots, he spins you around; sulking in the fact that the person his insides ravaged for was in his arms.

"Well, put me down J. Want my welcome home kiss!"

He never lets you go though, sat cutely on his hip; whilst he removed his head from the crook of your neck his lips trailed and lingered themselves from there, all the way to your mouth. Groaning all at once and you tried to keep up with his feral pace. Lips almost swallowing yours whole, he tasted you. He memorized every groove of your tongue; you couldn't even remember his tongue going into your mouth with his impatientness.

You didn't necessarily care though, awaiting this moment youself.

So wrapped up in each other, like a dopamine high that neither of you could come down from.

Millions of fibers of love erupting in the two of you.

Ethereal.

"Being feisty now, aren't we?"

You were sarcastic and JJ knew it. His forehead glued against yours, searching your soul with his eyes; reading you. Lips sore from a mix of the attack he'd made and not having used them soon enough.

If he could pay someone to take a picture of this moment, he'd give them every last penny to his name.

"Just really fucking missed you, baby."

"Hm ... how much?"

You challenged, and JJ smirked knowing that he's really rubbed his own banter off on you.

"How about I show you just how much I missed you."

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deltaromeo3 · 2 years ago

Text

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎..? #2 ⋆ Charles Leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: in which the reader does not recognise the famous Monegasque Formula 1 driver; the very same one that was about to change her perspective on the sport and also her life.

— you can read part 1 & 3 here! : #1 #3

A/N: thank you for all the love on part 1! here’s a part 2!! tbh I got carried away… let me know if i should do a part 3? 🤭

— Warning(s): poorly translated french.

"Will there be a next time?"

You were sitting on the balcony, enjoying the Monaco sun with a book in hand and a cup of ice cold sparkling water on the table.

“Ding!” Your phone rings but you ignored it.

“Ding! Ding! Ding!” Your phone goes off like crazy.

You huffed and place your book down, wondering who the hell would be spamming you at this time of day. It was literally 9 in the morning.

charles_leclerc started following you.

charles_leclerc liked your story.

charles_leclerc liked your post.

Your eyes widened. You blinked a few times to make sure this was real. Why.. and how the hell did he find your Instagram account?

“Em!” You called out. No response.

“Emma! EMMA!”

“WHAT!” She finally responds and you see her head peek through her room door.

You walked over to her and said nothing, instead just showing her the notification. Her mouth went agape and you could see her jaw almost physically touch the floor.

“Wh-what are you waiting for? Follow him back!”

“What?! Why? I don’t even like F1!”

“Doesn’t matter! He’s hot. J-just do it!”

“Okay okay!”

You decided to follow him back and quickly exit the app, locking your phone.

Your phone dings once again.

charles_leclerc sent you a message.

Shit shit shit!

You gasped.

“Emma. He. Sent. Me. A. DM!”

Emma gasps in response. She quickly rushes over to your side. She couldn’t believe her eyes.

“Oh. My. God.”

Silence falls between the two of you as you both stood frozen in the living room trying to process the fact that the Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc just sent you a DM.

“Well reply him then! Good god.”

“Last time I was this nervous was when I kissed Andre.”

Emma whips her head towards you, “Wh- you kissed Andre?! When?! How come I don’t know about that?” She shakes her head, “Eh! That’s not the point. Ch-Charles! Reply him!”

You quickly type out a response.

You bite your fingernails out of nervousness waiting for his reply.

“Ding!” Goes your phone.

He sure is a fast replier.

You continued texting him. Long story short, he’s asking you out for brunch. You told Emma about your plans and she jumps with joy, clapping her hands in excitement.

“Ooh someone’s going on a date with Lord Percevallll,” She teases.

“It’s not a date Emma!”

“Mmhmm. Sure.” She smirks at you as she walks away.

You rolled your eyes in response.

You looked at the time, luckily you still had a few hours to prepare before meeting him. And like you always do, you went to the balcony to continue reading your book.

You tried your best to read, but you just couldn’t. You were nervous to say the least, about meeting a very famous Formula 1 driver. God, everyone here adores him. He is everyone’s favourite. Even the goddamn Prince loves him…

You decided to take and a nap, hoping it would help you to relax and not think about it too much. So, you did just that.

Your sleep got disturbed to the sound of Emma calling and shaking you vigorously.

“Wake up! Y/N! WAKE UP!”

“What!”

“Did you forget about brunch? Hurry up and get your ass ready!” She says as she tosses you your towel. You looked at your phone. 1:10pm.

“Merde! I’m late!” You quickly got off your bed and headed straight for the shower.

You got dressed in a simple tank top with high waisted jeans, sprayed on some perfume and accessorised with a necklace and a few rings. You put on your shoes and quickly left the house.

“Have fun! And don’t forget to use protection!” Emma shouts as she closes the door behind her.

You quietly laughed to yourself. It’s just brunch, nothing else.

As soon as you exit your building, you were greeted by a familiar figure. He was standing next to his car, leaning on it. The both of you exchanged smiles as soon as you made eye contact with one another.

Charles was wearing a black tee with light wash jeans.

“So sorry I’m late! I took a nap and ended up oversleeping I-“

He cuts you off. “Mon amour, it’s okay. You’re here now. More than happy to see you.”

Does he call every girl he meets mon amour?

You blush at the nickname. Why were you blushing? God help me please.

You sighed in relief, “Thank you for waiting.”

He smiles softly, “Brunch?”

“Brunch.” You smiled back at him.

He brought you to L’Intempo, which was situated in a hotel by the sea. Of course, he requested for the outdoor seating.

Whilst waiting for your food to be ready, you chit chatted with him. He told you all about his life, how he got into F1 and his career.

“I’ve talked so much about myself. Now you!”

“I just recently moved to Monaco. It’s always been the country of my dreams so I decided to study here! I’m studying Neurosciences in Paris, so it’s nearby!”

“Neuroscience? Like… you study brains?”

You chuckled, “Kinda.. but not really. Ah well, you get the idea. Brains.”

He laughs, “Brains.” The both of you laugh. “Why didn’t you just stay in Paris? Everyone wants to go to Paris.”

“Monaco is smaller. And everyone here is crazy rich so who knows, I might end up marrying a rich man. Won’t have to work so hard, y’know.” You joked.

He laughs again, “Really? Who told you that? Google?”

You nodded and he laughs again, “Yeah, who knows. You may be right.” He smiles.

Your food finally came. You took a pic before eating.

@yourusername posted on their story.

Charles offered you to taste some of his food and even fed you some, and you did the same.

The air was filled with your chatter and laughter and soon enough everything was just background noise.

It felt like you’ve been friends with Charles for so long; conversations flowed easily and there was no awkwardness between the two of you.

After brunch however, he decided to drive you around Monaco since you’ve never properly seen the city. He even drove on the F1 track; the chicanes and road markings were still fairly visible.

You sat quietly in the car, admiring the views of the city. It was one thing to explore Monaco with Emma, but with Charles? It was different; he grew up here so he knew spots tourists didn’t know.

Last but not least, he brought you to the Prince of Monaco’s automobile collection. You wondered why he was so eager to show you a collection that wasn’t his but as soon as you entered the building you understood why. There were many cars, but one car stood out in particular.

You shot him a look. “Ah so this is why you were so excited to bring me here?”

He smiles, “Yes! Look, it’s my car.” He gleams with excitement. “I had my first victory and pole position with this!” He explains. Although you had zero interest in Formula 1, hearing his excitement when he was explaining to you about his car was heartwarming. And so, you listened despite not knowing anything about F1.

You smiled as he was explaining, it was cute. You’ve never seen someone so proud of their achievements.

“That’s so cool! So you gave it to the Prince?”

He nods. “I know it’s in good hands so I’m okay with that.”

It was around 630ish when the “date” (can you call it that?) was over. He drops you off in front of your apartment building. When you wanted to exit the car, you realised Charles was rushing over to your side to open the door for you.

“When you’re with me you don’t open doors! I’ll do it.”He says and you laugh at his antics.

He even walked you to your door.

“I’m kinda sad this is over.” He says.

“Well… me too. I had fun.” You smiled.

He smiles back, “Moi aussi. me too. He pauses. “Y aura-t-il une prochaine fois? Will there be a next time?” He asks.

“Why? Voulez vous qu’il y ait une prochaine fois? Do you want there to be a next time? ”

“Oui. Yes." He shyly admits.

“D’accord. Okay. I’ll see you next time then, Lord Perceval.” You teased him with the nickname. “Text me when you’re homed?”

He chuckles. “D’accord.” He walks off and you take out your keys to unlock the front door, but suddenly you were stopped halfway.

“Here,” He passes you his phone, it was opened to his number pad. “I almost forgot.”

You laughed and keyed in your number. “Ok, I’ll go now.” He waves goodbye and leaves.

You entered your apartment to be greeted by Emma cooking dinner.

“Wow finally. Thought you’d never come home! So, how’s the date?”

“It’s not a date!” You exclaimed.

Emma laughs at your reaction, “Okay, how’s brunch that went on for 5 hours?” She corrects herself.

“Good, we-“ You were interrupted by your phone ringing. It was an unknown number. You answered it, only to be greeted by a familiar voice.

“Hello, it’s Charles. I’m on my way home.”

You chuckled, “Hello, Charles. Are you driving and calling me at the same time?”

“Ye- No! I’m… not.” He lies. “Okay, I am. I just wanted to hear your voice, that’s all.”

You blushed, “Charles… it’s dangerous! Just call me when you’re home okay?”

You hear him giggle, “Okay mon amour. I’ll call you in 10.”

“I’ll be waiting for you,” The line ends.

“I’ll be waiting for youuu,” Emma mocks you, and you cringed, covering your face, asking her to stop. She just replies with laughter. “Glad you had fun with Mr F1 driver. Your wag era is coming soon I can smell it!” She jokes.

“Oh god,” You laughed, walking away to the bathroom to take a shower.

#charles leclerc x reader #f1 x you #f1 imagines #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #deltaromeo3 #aya2 #and you are..? 2

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quantum1mmortality · 1 year ago

Note

leans into the mic ... period sex with kenshi ..... ? /nf

blind or not, either works; do what you want, comrade i j- i just need him very badly PFFJNRHJFJ

here's a pic of your favorite pookie shmookie wookie bookie boo beekeeper btw (wheezed typing it but i am, in fact, putting respect on his name bestie)

Oh em geee

How could I resist when you add such a breedable pic of pookie shmookie wookie bookie boo of who is also a beekeeper???? I simply cannot

I've been kind of into Kenshi as of recently,,, most fics with him are poly with Johnny and that's cool and all but Johnnys just not for me 4 realz

Tw/cw: AFAB reader, blind Kenshi it's relevant to the plot, you guys are dating but it's only mentioned like twice, humongous blood kink(it's Kenshis), pet names (princess, beautiful), smiley Kenshi, he's just happy to be there, probably incorrect sento usage, finger fucking, cursing, piv, pwp ish, reader is embarrassed bc period blood smells, Kenshi is a man tho so he doesnt care

Not proofread get over it

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kenshi has always been a loving and compassionate person. Given that you're his girlfriend, he's shown a side of himself that he's shown very few others. He's a man who loves date nights and taking things slowly just as much as he loves doing things in the heat of the moment.

Period sex was something he was more than willing to do. If he thought he could help your pain by outweighing it with pleasure, he'd be on his knees in mere seconds. As much as he loves seeing you squirm underneath him, he'd be more than willing to just cuddle you until it was over. At the end of the day, the choice was always yours.

He couldn't help but want to take you in those moments, however. Something about you bleeding for days on end did something to him. While he knew that you must hurt, your cramps have been killing you all day and you can't walk because of them, some part of him just wanted to have your blood dripping from him as he made love to you.

In short, dating you was how Kenshi realized he had a blood kink. It's mild to the point he doesn't think about it often, but when you're on your period, he practically goes insane. All he wants to do is be near you, to touch you, all that good stuff.

Kenshi wouldn't even realize he had a blood kink for the longest time. He'd be so overwhelmed by the feeling of his hands and cock covered in blood and practically getting high off the smell he couldn't focus on anything but finishing. It was only until later when he was laying in the bath tub with you that he'd realize that he's never felt like this with anyone, just you. He'd eventually come to the realization that period sex gets him so turned on because of his blood kink and ends up embracing it more.

That being said, when you got the news Kenshi was blinded due to a series of unfortunate events, you had spent sleepless days and nights waiting for him to come home.

And he did.

It took you both a while to get used to his new living condition, but you made it work. Since one of his senses got removed, this meant his other senses were heightened. Taste, hearing, touch, but most importantly, smell.

His sense of smell got much stronger than he'd expected, he could smell practically anything, but he had specifically made it a point to familiarize himself with your scent. Your perfumes, body wash, shampoo, just you in general. He made sure he knew what you smelled like, that way he knew it was you.

So when you got on your period, he could tell before you did. You and him were sleeping together, cuddling as usual. He woke up first and upon waking up, he was hit with a smell he hadn't noticed the night before. It was a familiar one, just much stronger than what he's used to.

He was practically stunned. He didn't really know what to do, considering you guys haven't done much since his premature blinding. He felt like waking you up, telling you that he needs you as he began to feel the familiar feeling of his cock straining in his boxers.

But he resisted. He had to, would you really want to be woken up over this? He was able to watch you slightly through sento, being mounted on your wall in front of your shared bed, he could see you both decently enough. You didn't show any signs of movement, nor signs you were awake.

He could feel your soft breaths puff onto his collar bone as he could feel his cock twitch. He could feel you shifting in the bed as he watched you through sento. He could see you were starting to wake up, and cuddled into his chest more.

You placed small kisses on what he thought was your face (it was the top of your head but don't tell him) as you woke up more from the feeling. Your small giggles filled the room as you playfully pushed back, locking him into a sweet kiss before laying your head next to his.

"Morning Kenshi," was all you currently had the strength to say. "Morning beautiful" He replies back with his usual smile. He always loved calling you pet names, specifically in the morning, so this wasn't out of the usual.

What was unusual, however, was his heavy breathing. It was slightly faster than usual, and specifically through his nose... You found this odd, obviously, and you began to think about what could be different. It was obvious enough that he was soaking in your scent, he always has, but nothing was out of the usual. Nothing that you knew yet, at least.

You had thought back to last night when you and Kenshi had bathed together, you always had taken showers and baths together, but due to the fact he can no longer see anything, you've decided to help him with such. You used the same body wash, the same shampoo, conditioner... Nothing that he hasn't smelled already.

Then, it hit you. You were on your period. Of course you were, your body just had to choose the worst possible time for you to get your period. You internally sigh as you now understand why Kenshis been acting odd.

Kenshi could see you contemplating through sento, he could see how embarrassed you were. He felt bad for thinking such dirty things, maybe he shouldn't have been feeling like this, but he couldn't help it.

It wasn't that you were embarrassed by the fact you were on your period, it was that fact that he had an enhanced smell now. You knew that Kenshi was into period sex, it's just you thought it'd be embarrassing with the smell. You sigh aloud and get disappointed in how your precious pair of panties that you liked oh so much now have to be period panties.

Kenshi knew that you were upset by this, he just didn't know what to say. Should he come out and just say how the smell turned him on? It smells like you, just, enhanced. That's what he liked about it. It smelled like you, the pussy that he'd give his life for, THATS what he was into.

"I'm- sorry. It must smell bad-" he cut you off.

"It doesn't. It smells like you. Not your hair products, not your perfume, you. It's amazing to be able to know what you smell like, this is just enhancing it. I like it, honestly."

Although sweet, it was weird. You just didn't exactly expect a man to understand this sort of thing. You felt somewhat relieved, just a bit weird about the situation. He could tell by your facial expressions that you were. He took your hands in his and continued speaking.

"Your scent, knowing you're here with me throughout everything I'm going through, it brings me comfort. You bring me comfort. Knowing you're here, next to me, fills me with a joy you wouldn't believe. So no, waking up to the scent of you would never disgust me."

How poetic. He pulled you into a small kiss, relishing in how amazing you taste. He could smell a small bit of arousal form in you, panties getting some how wetter as he puts his thighs between your legs, prodding at your heat.

You whimper at the feeling, opening your mouth slightly in the process. Kenshi takes this opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, exploring it as he felt you grind on his thigh.

His hands unclasp themselves from yours as he took one and dragged it to your panties. Slipping his hand inside, he can feel the heat radiate off of your pussy, practically begging him to touch you. He gathers your wetness on his fingers, pushing one inside you as his thumb plays with your clit.

You moan out and break the kiss in the process. You lay your head next to his as your breathing became harsh, gripping the bedsheets as he continued his motions. "God I wish I could see you, I know you look beautiful like this." He bit his lip as he could feel you clench from the praise.

He slips in another finger and earns another moan from you. Kenshi could feel his cock twitching in its confines, begging to be inside you, but he needed to wait till you were properly stretched. You, however, had different plans. You could see the tent in his pants, and you were practically drooling over it. You placed your hand on his bulge, Kenshi lets out a surprised moan from it.

"Princess,, you're goin' to make me cum if you touch me like that. Good girls keep their hands to themselves, yes?" He questioned you as he continued his pace of finger fucking and clit rubbing.

You try your hardest to stifle your moans, but your back arching to the feeling of Kenshis fingers curling inside you wasn't something you could ignore. Your chest pressed against his as your soft hand squeezed his forearm.

Your whines and begs for release made Kenshi go faster, making you cum harshly in his fingers. He placed his fingers in his mouth, swirling his tongue around them and letting out a moan at the taste.

"Delicious as always, you treat me so well." He laughs as he climbs on top of you. He takes off his boxers and you make quick work of stripping yourself as well. He gives his hard cock a few strokes, he can feel you staring at him as he does.

"Look what you do to me princess, all for you." He gives you a cheeky grin before aligning his tip with your opening. He pushes himself inside you at a slow pace, taking in how your walls cling to him.

As he began to thrust into you, he could feel your blood painting his lower abdomen. He felt lightheaded as he could smell you on himself, small droplets of your blood fell down his thigh and he can feel himself cumming.

Luckily, he can control himself. Not when it comes to thrusting into you, though. Kenshi hooks both your legs onto his shoulders, his hands place themselves on your waist as he lifts you up enough to where his thighs are below you, keeping you elevated at all times. Hes thrusting into you at a high pace, high enough for your body to be shaking with every thrust but not enough for you to be overwhelmed.

His harsh pace continues as his hands angle you slightly lower, making him repeatedly hit your g-spot. You cry out his name and your hands fly to his head, tugging on his hair as he feels himself get closer.

"Close- Kenshi- I'm so-" you moan again as his grip on your waist tightens. Kenshi has to use sento to see you, but luckily, he was able to move the sword to a different position. He was able to see just how painted he was- how you both were painted in blood. His hips begin to falter as he gets lightheaded with pleasure once again.

He was also lucky enough to see your back arch as your head fell back in pleasure, coming on his cock in the process. "You did so good for me princess, I, ugh, I'm goin' to cum so hard for you," and seconds later, he lets out a deep groan before collapsing onto you, cum leaking out of your now abused hole.

It took you both a few minutes to get your breath back. Once you did, you just laid with each other for a bit. As you played with Kenshis hair, he rolls over, exposing his lower abdomen to you.

"You're covered in blood." You giggle out. Using sento again, he was able to see himself. He was actually, and within seconds he had turned back to you.

"Up for another round?" He asked with a smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n: to everyone who's been using my asks to say they appreciate my fics and the videos I use for headers, I love you. Except for that one person that said size kinks were disguised pedophilia, please stay far away from me

#mortal kombat smut #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x reader smut #kenshi takahashi #kenshi takashi x reader #kenshi smut #kenshi x reader smut #kenshi takahashi smut #mk kenshi #kind of hate this fic but oh well ig

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