#the way I was screaming with my head in my hands at his actions and attitude and always on thin ice | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

amyispxnk · 43 minutes ago

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AUGHHH MY GOD THIS SERIES MAKES ME SCREAM AND SOB SM ISTG. I LOVE IT.

Notes from reading as always 🙏..

He’s always so supportive, so gentle, so easy with you. It makes your heart clench, makes it beat a little more just for him.

“Yeah, guess I am.” He turns his head toward you and gives you a heart-stopping smile. “I guess I see all the potential in those pretty eyes of yours.”

Turning back toward the fogged-up passenger window, you lean against the door and smile. A smile that’s bigger than you’ve ever smiled before. You’re completely smitten by the handsome Texas man with big brown eyes. And he’s just continuing to show you how much life is worth living. Telling you how far he thinks you’ll go. But you don’t want to go far in distance. No. You just want to stay right here beside him. You think you’d follow him anywhere.

these two are SO FUCKING CUTE UGHHHH THE YEARNING. THE YEARNING, PEOPLE. ITS KILLING ME

...smile like your whole heart is right there in his eyes. “Thanks for seeing the potential in me.”

THAT WAS SO SWEET UGH

He slows to a halt at a stop sign and turns to face you, eyes sparkling with promises. “Then I’ll be there every single time you need me.”

Literally screaming, crying, throwing up.

Also when he says he has to go - I love how respectful and mindful he is of her, not touching her despite wanting to, when wanting to comfort her. Your writing and the way you show so much character and depth through even the subtlest of actions like that is honestly incredible. I literally adore your writing so much

Ok I know I keep going on about it but genuinely Joel's characterisation is so well done. I love him so much in this fic, istg, like the way he picks up on things like when her hand gets shaky? So sweet

You’re about to get up, run out the door, but Joel senses your worry. He slides the back of his hand against yours, brushing your skin gently, a way to say ‘Hey, I’m right here.’ And when you look up and see those big brown eyes gazing softly down at you, you instantly quiet down inside. Your knee stops bouncing, and you’re left with this overwhelming peace that seems to radiate through every part of your body. Like a quiet forest that soothes your soul, that’s what Joel does to you. He makes everything else around you so still, so quiet.

IM CRYINGGGGGG.

Ellie… That little girl tonight looked just like his lost daughter—the one he saved all those years ago. But he never fully saved her. Not after… not when he let her go…

Oh my god??? It's the way I'm about to start sobbing again if I was right(?)

Don’t let go. Never let go.

IM. SCREAMING. AND CRYING. SO MUCH.

And the ending was so beautiful as always.

Wow.

✨Saving What Was Lost Part 7: Your Hand In Mine✨

Pre-Outbreak! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: Get ready to meet soft, angsty Joel in this chapter. I would like to give him a big hug 🥺

Chapter Summary: Your first day of therapy is a little scary, but Joel helps you through it.

Rating: 18+ only MDNI

Word Count: 4.7k

Chapter Tags: Soft! Joel, so much angst, yearning, reader goes to therapy, dual POV, age gap (reader late 20’s, Joel late 40’s), mentions of violence and kidnapping, grief

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

“You nervous?” Joel asks from the driver’s seat, hands locked around the leather steering wheel.

You nod while your hands fidget with your leggings. “Mmm, a little.” But a little’s a lie. You’re downright terrified. You’ve never been to therapy, never talked about yourself before like that. Well, Joel was the closest. You’ve talked to him, and you’re oddly comfortable with that now. But other than that? You haven’t done this.

He must see the lie on your worried face and the terror ringing through your wide eyes. Giving you a gentle smile, he turns his focus back to the road ahead that’s shrouded in mist from the December rain. “Don’t be. Tess is great. You’re going to be great, sweetheart. I know it’s scary, but just know you’re taking that first step into the unknown. That first step of healing, and you’re going to do so well. I jus’ know it.”

He’s always so supportive, so gentle, so easy with you. It makes your heart clench, makes it beat a little more just for him.

You take a good look at him. Watch as he cards a hand back through his tousled curls, watch as his green flannel clings to his flexed biceps, watch as that easy smile melts across his plush mouth. He’s just so nice to watch, so easy to keep your eyes trained on.

Darting your tongue across your bottom lip, you tilt your head toward him and give him an easy smile. “You’re always so sure about me.”

“Yeah, guess I am.” He turns his head toward you and gives you a heart-stopping smile. “I guess I see all the potential in those pretty eyes of yours.”

Your mouth parts, cheeks redden as you repeat that sentence over in your mind. He thinks you have pretty eyes. He’s always so sure of you.

When he stops at a red light, you brave another stare at him and smile like your whole heart is right there in his eyes. “Thanks for seeing the potential in me.”

One side of his mouth curls up into a crooked smile, and his cinnamon-brown eyes sparkle against the windshield. “You’re so welcome, sweetheart.”

When you catch your breath from melting, you ask, “Sarah said you see Tess, too?”

He nods as the truck’s engine revs to life again. “She’s right. See her every couple of weeks or so. She’s patient and understanding and she really helps, I think. Helps when the nights get a little too dark for me.”

The way he says the last sentence, his low voice sounds a little weary like maybe he fights the nights as much as you do. And you don’t miss the flinch in his right eye or the way his hand tightens on the steering wheel. He must get them too. The nightmares that haunt your dreams every few nights. You wish you could just scoop them up, replace them with dreams of ocean tides or snowy mountains filled with deep green trees. You wish you could take away his pain, whatever’s hurting him so deeply. He hides it well—the pain. But sometimes it creeps up on him, and it spills in different shades across his shadows that slip in his brown eyes. That’s something you don’t miss.

Steady rain pelts against the windows, making the few trees in the distance look like monsters with tangled vines draping low to the ground. You flick your gaze back to Joel in the driver’s seat and another slow smile brushes against your lips. “Thanks again for driving me.”

“It ain’t no trouble, sweetheart. I’ll drive you till you don’t need me to.”

Another skipped heartbeat, another butterfly flitting through your stomach. The man is so sweet.

Biting your lower lip, you brave a question, mildly testing the waters. “What if I always need you to?” It comes out quiet, but not so quiet that he doesn’t hear you.

He slows to a halt at a stop sign and turns to face you, eyes sparkling with promises. “Then I’ll be there every single time you need me.”

“Promise?”

Another smile. “Cross my heart.” He folds a hand over his chest, promising once again.

You giggle under your breath, your eyes never leaving his. “Well, looks like I can trust you then.”

“You can always trust me, sweetheart.” And he means it. You can always trust him, and you know that. God, you know that.

When the tires start spinning again on the damp pavement and the low sounds of an old Western song plays through the speakers, he clears his throat and speaks. “It’s gonna be a late night for me.”

You flip your eyes back to him and give him a worried stare. “Do you have to go somewhere?” You already know what that means. He’s got an important job to do. One where he might be gone all night, maybe till morning.

He nods subtly. “Got an important run I gotta do with Tommy. So I might not be home till mornin’…” His voice cuts off. He knows you hate it when he’s away so long.

“Gone the whole night?” Your voice is a meek whisper because you’re afraid what his answer will be.

He’s silent a beat. “Afraid so, but hopefully that ain’t the case. But still, even if I am back earlier, it’ll be well after two o’clock in the mornin’.”

Your stomach churns just thinking about it. When he’s not across the hall when you’re sleeping, when he’s not just mere feet apart from you, it’s like something’s missing. There’s a void in the pit of your stomach, and you can’t seem to unravel that feeling till he’s in your space again. “I hate when you’re gone all night…” Your words falter, they break like your voice shakes.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” His right hand drops to the center console, just inches from yours. He seems conflicted, seems like he wants to reach out and graze his calloused skin against yours, but he doesn’t. But he’s trying. He’s still hesitant to touch you because you’re still so unsure of touch. He doesn’t want to scare you, and you know that. He’s just being careful. And maybe you’re still scared of physical touch, but his touch? That warm, gentle, soft graze he sometimes gives you. Well, it feels like sunlight skimming over you.

Carefully, you move your fingers in his direction. Just enough where you can feel the heat of his skin. You don’t touch him, not quite. But this is enough. This is your middle ground. “I umm… I worry about you at night when you’re not home. I’m always scared that… that...” You can’t even speak it out loud. You’re scared he won’t come back one night. And you can’t bear the thought of that.

His brown eyes soften. “I’ll be alright, sweetheart. I’ll come back. I can promise you that.” You give him a small smile and nod, keeping your fingers right by his just so you can feel the heat cover your own skin.

Physical contact is still something you’re struggling with, but you think Joel understands that. And he does. Always so careful around you. Never one to put you in an uncomfortable situation because he does understand your situation. He knows exactly what you’ve been through, and he wouldn’t dare make the wrong move because he doesn’t want to scare you. And you appreciate that. You appreciate him. So this is enough. Right now in this truck—hands centimeters apart, heat gliding over your fingers, a whispered promise that he’s going to take care of you.

Yes. This is enough.

After a few more minutes, Joel’s pulling into a little parking lot, right in front of a tiny building with a lit-up white sign that says "Essence of Healing.” Your heart starts beating faster, your breath tightening in your chest as your eyes scan the brightly-lit sign. “Well, here we are. You ready?” He turns off the ignition and pulls the key out, his brown eyes flitting over to you.

You swallow once and nod, an array of emotions spinning in your head. “Yeah, I think so,” you breathe out as calmly as you can.

He gives you an encouraging smile and pushes the door open. “C’mon, then.” You open the passenger door slowly and close it with a bang, your knees shaky, legs wobbly with every step you take toward the door.

This is it. You’re actually going to talk to a therapist for the first time in your life. What if you’re not ready, what if you choke, what if you burst out into tears and can’t sputter words from your choked-up throat? These are all valid questions, ones you never really considered, but you’re here. You have to do this. You have to do it for yourself. You owe that much to yourself. You are worth it.

When Joel goes up to the front desk with you, the one covered in green succulents and a calming, trickling desk fountain running the corner, you collect all the paperwork you need to fill out and in exchange give her your photo ID. Joel was kind enough to go with you to get a new one since your old one was lost somewhere in Washington. As for health insurance, Joel was paying out of pocket for you to be seen. But he promised he was working to get you on your own health insurance plan. You still don’t know why he’s being so nice to you, but without him, you’d probably be dead by now…

After a few minutes of fighting with the paperwork and scribbling out wrong information, you’re about to break out in tears. They’re swelling in the backs of your eyes, making your lips quiver and the words blur on the page.

“Hey. You’re alright,” Joel coos, taking the pen from your shaky hand. “Let me help.” And you do let him. He fills out the questions you couldn’t answer yourself—his home address, your phone number you still haven’t memorized, emergency contact information, insurance details, even going as far as helping you fill out medical questions you’re having trouble with.

As you look up at him all focused and intent on getting your paperwork done, a little spark sizzles in your chest. You study him—eyes glued to the page, jaw flexed as his rapt attention is on each question, tousled curls a little disheveled as he cards his fingers attentively while he thumbs through the pages. You’re a little mesmerized, a little surprised he didn’t just leave you to shovel through the numerous papers. Instead, he chose to stay right by your side, saving you from breaking down from the weight of so many unknowns.

You’re scared, a little overwhelmed, a little more nervous than you’d like to be. But with Joel, it seems like you can get through anything.

When the paperwork is all completed and he’s back at your side, waiting patiently for them to call you back, you feel a little better—like you can do anything if he’s there next to you. Call him your knight in shining armor, but he truly is. He keeps saving you, and you hope he’ll never stop.

The nervous jitters start up again when you glance up at the clock. Five till noon, right when your appointment is supposed to be. Your knee is bouncing up and down in tandem with your flexed fingers against your leggings. Fear trickles down your spine, slides into the deepest parts of your veins. And suddenly, you’re downright terrified.

When you’re about to say something to break the trance you’re in, you faintly hear your name being called from the open office door.

You sit up straight and look toward the door, up at the woman that just called your name. “That’s me,” you call out with a shaky voice.

“Ahh. There you are.” She strides up to you and holds her hand out. You slowly take it. She has long light brown hair, strong cheekbones, welcoming hazel eyes, and a smile that instantly soothes you. “I’m Tess, by the way. It’s so good to meet you. This one’s told me a lot about you.” She flicks her eyes to Joel.

When you take her hand, it’s warm. “It’s nice to meet you, Tess. And of course he has.”

Joel shakes his head and lets a low chuckle leave his lips. “Guilty as charged.”

“You got lucky with this one. He’s one of the good ones,” Tess nods as your hands disconnect.

“He is…” you repeat back, getting lost just for a second in his syrupy brown eyes. He seems to get lost in yours too.

“You ready?” Tess asks.

“Oh, uhh. Yeah.” You take a second to push yourself up off the cushioned leather chair, let your legs stop wobbling beneath you.

When you’re just about to follow her back, Joel’s low voice serenades your ears. “I’ll be right here waitin’. You’re gonna do great, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, Joel.” You give him a lasting smile, until Tess beckons you back to her office.

“Come on. This way.”

With one last glance his way, you watch the front office door shut and what awaits you is a long hallway with mint-green wallpaper. Pictures of oceans, fields of wildflowers, and open spaces fill the painted walls. A small white table sits in the middle of the hall with multi-colored flowers hanging over the table that are tucked inside a cream-colored pot.

When you make it to the fourth door on the left, Tess nods inside and lets you go first. “Welcome to my office. Hope it’s cozy enough for you.”

Gasping, you take in her array of rocks and seashells on her back wall. Dozens of colorful shapes and sizes fill the expanse of it. But what really catches your attention is all the little sand dollars spread out by her computer monitor. Her walls are almost the color of sunlight, and she’s got a massive portrait of a west coast beach framed with love behind her desk chair. A white leather couch sits right across from her mahogany desk, and the scent of soothing lavender fills the air.

“It’s perfect,” you whisper, amazed by all the decorative details of her office. It’s so inviting and welcoming. It instantly calms you down.

“Glad you like it,” she smiles. “Well, have a seat. Get comfortable.” You comply as she gets situated in her chair and pulls up your paperwork. Sifting through it for a minute, she looks up at you with a bright smile lit across her face. “So. This is your first session, is that correct?”

“Yeah. I… I’ve never done this before,” you answer honestly, a little scared of what she might say, but she only gives you another encouraging smile.

“Well, you came to the right place then. We’re just going to take this slow, take it one session at a time. Healing is a journey. There’s no one single path to it. We’ll do what works for you, what you’re comfortable with. That sound okay to you?”

“Mhm,” you nod with your hands clasped tightly in your lap. You’re so fucking nervous, but this is normal, right? Everyone is scared of something they’ve never done before. But this? It seems like all your secrets will surely be unmasked, and that terrifies you. Sharing your past—what happened to you—isn’t going to be easy. Not one bit.

“I can see you’re scared, but you don’t have to be. This is a safe space. You can talk to me about anything. It’s all confidential. Nothing you say goes out that door.”

Your eyes flit to the closed oak door, and you nod in acknowledgment. “Right… Okay.”

She scoots back and crosses one leg over her knee, leaving the open papers splayed on her desk. All attention is on you now. “How about we start from the beginning. Before… before you were taken. Maybe start with your childhood?”

“Oh… I… Well, that’s a lot to tell,” you gulp out nervously. Your childhood trauma is a whole other monster you still haven’t tackled.

She smiles. “We’ve got an entire hour today. And if you come back, we’ll have many more sessions to unravel your past.”

You bite your bottom lip and nod, your nerves getting the best of you, but you push through. “Okay…” You take a deep breath and dive in head first. “Here goes nothing.”

Four o’clock flashes like an alarm on the oven clock, telling him he’s been gone for hours, but really, it feels like it’s been days. He reaches for the open whiskey bottle and pours the amber liquid over the square ice cubes in the glass. Every drop looks like the trickles of fresh blood that’s stained his flannel permanently. He should’ve fucking known tonight was not the night to wear nice flannels.

He scuffs his leather boots against the hardwood floor, dragging his tired legs from the kitchen to the living room, till he’s collapsed in a heap on the leather couch—one hand curled around the cold glass, the other raking down his face excruciatingly slow.

He failed. He was too late. Just minutes from being on time. Maybe he could’ve saved her. Saved that innocent little girl from her executioners. But he couldn’t…

As he closes his eyes, he sees the flash of red covering the dark walls, serenading the lace of her pink dress. Eleven-years-old, just shy of turning twelve, a daughter that’ll never be able to return home to a worried mother and father.

He curses under his breath, feels the tears pour like droplets of water down his cheek. She didn’t deserve to die, didn’t deserve to be scared and all alone. He was supposed to save her, was supposed to get her out. That was his mission, and he fucking failed.

Three minutes. He was just three fucking minutes shy of saving her life, but he was too late. He misjudged the distance, didn’t realize the captors were early to their destination. He got there right after they smothered her—silencing her terrified screams forever. He can still hear them like shrill sirens blasting through the base of that rundown building. This isn’t the first time he’s been too late, but God. This one hurts like hell because it reminds him of someone he lost along the way. Someone he loved just as much as Sarah.

And so, he did what he did best. He took them out—all the men that had hurt her. Thankfully, he took backup, including Tommy. He smothered their screams, pushed daggers into their throats, shot them dead in a frenzy of rage while his teeth were clenched and eyes were fogged with held-in tears. When he looked at that poor, lost girl—it nearly took him to his knees. Those eyes. Those same lifeless hazel eyes that still haunt his dreams to this day. They were the same shade as hers… The little girl that forever changed his life. The one that he wishes was still here…

Ellie… That little girl tonight looked just like his lost daughter—the one he saved all those years ago. But he never fully saved her. Not after… not when he let her go…

A wave of emotions floods through his chest as he takes another stiff drink of alcohol, letting the whiskey burn through him while visions of hazel eyes and crimson fill his foggy mind.

He was too late. He fucked up. He misjudged the minute hand from the second hand. Time slipped away from him. And before he knew it, everything he planned for was lost to the eerie night. Instead, it ended in bloodshed and turmoil. He hates it. Hates when things have to get extremely violet, but what choice did he have? He had to take them out because they stole an innocent life—a life he was supposed to keep safe.

He’s so lost in the crimson-stained memories in his mind that he almost misses that small, meek voice of yours. “Joel?”

When he opens his eyes, a part of his soul shatters. There you are, a plush blanket wrapped around your shoulders, heartbreaking eyes shining over to him from the staircase. You take in his half-drank glass of whiskey and the dried tears that stain his cheeks. But also, you see the faint crimson that tarnishes his flannel shirt.

Blood. There was so much blood… like a liquid pool of death.

He adjusts his back against the leather cushion and sits up a little straighter, just so he looks less worn down and broken than he already is. You see right through him though. You always do. “Sweetheart, it’s late. Why don’t you…”

“Are you… okay?” Your voice whispers across the room, silences the crackling embers in the fireplace. Your voice… it sounds broken too.

“I, uhh. Jus’ please, go back to sleep.” He tries to push you away, tries to get you to return to your room so he can sulk in peace. He doesn’t want you to see him like this. Doesn’t want you to see just how physically and mentally defeated he actually is. He’s not as strong as you think he is. He’s fragile, grainy sand that gets blown away by the wind. He’s not rock-solid; he’s quicksand.

You slide into the seat next to him, close enough where your knee could brush against his. “I’m not leaving you.” There’s finality in your tone, still soft but firm on your decision. And there’s those eyes. Those fucking beautiful eyes that could silence all the built-up pain he has piled on his heart.

You’re so fucking beautiful.

“Are you hurt?” You ghost your hand across the leather, reaching out just enough where he feels the heat of your skin. It soothes him over just a tad, but nothing can quite wipe away the excruciating weight of agony he’s carrying now.

“No. I’m jus’… I’m so tired.” He pinches his eyes closed and takes a deep breath, his hand clutching the cool glass of whiskey like it’s his lifeline. “This job weighs on me like solid concrete. Some nights are so fuckin’ hard. Some nights jus’…” He pauses, takes a deep breath in and blows another out. He can’t finish. He’s too tired, too strained from the past few hours, months, years.

He’s so fucking tired; he just needs some rest, some peace, some symbolism that he knows he’ll get to the finish line. But he’s been so struck down ever since he met that certain hazel-eyed little girl. Ellie. His little girl…

“What happened tonight?” Your voice comes off as a whisper. Maybe you’re just as scared to hear what he has to say.

He taps the edge of his thumb against the solid glass and takes a deep breath. “We uhh… I lost her. Her name… her name was Abigail. Just a little eleven-year-old, and I was supposed to save her, to get her back to her parents. But I… I was too late. I was too fuckin’ late.” There it is. The pen drops, another tear splashes down his stained flannel, and he’s lost to grief again.

You pause a beat, but you gasp loud enough for him to hear the horror in your voice. He’s a failure. You must think he’s such a failure. “Joel… I’m so… God. I’m so sorry.” There’s only sorrow in your lilty voice, no anger or resentment that he failed yet another soul. You’re just as sad as him, he thinks.

“I failed her… I failed everyone…” He shakes his head, sets his mind a little straighter just so he can grit the words out. “Sometimes I feel like none of this is worth it, like I don’t make a difference. Because when this happens, it makes me feel like I’m already six feet underground.”

“Oh, Joel. No.” He feels it—the couch creak beneath him, the weight of your body sliding over, your hand inching closer to his. “You save so many lives. You make every bit of difference. You change lives.” There’s so much assurance in your voice; you’re trying to soothe him over.

He snaps his eyes shut and shakes his head, anything to stop the burning sensation in his watery eyes. Maybe if he doesn’t blink then he won’t feel the pain of this gut-wrenching moment. “But I… I couldn’t save her… I couldn’t save…”

Ellie…

With his eyes still shut tight, he feels warmth wrap around his hand, feels the soft caress of your skin. And when he opens his eyes wide, he sees the most beautiful shades of softness gleaming from your pretty eyes.

“You saved me. And that… that means everything to me. You saved me. You saved your daughter. You saved so many lives. You are a hero, and don’t you dare think otherwise. Not for one second.” There’s tears licking your lash line, the most sincere look over your pretty face. A desperate plea to get through to him. And in that moment, he believes you for a second. Believes that he is a hero, even when he doesn’t believe it himself.

His bottom lip trembles as tears gather in his watery eyes. Something hits him deep in the gut. Longing, the fear of losing you, and an all-consuming wave of tender emotions. He sees you. He really sees you. Such a beautiful soul. Such a lovely, amazing woman. To think he almost didn’t go to that auction, almost wasn’t able to save you. What would he do if he never found you? It stings to even think about. Because you… Well, you’re everything all at once. And he’s so fucking soft for you.

Carefully, softly, he laces his fingers through yours, holds on for dear life, praying you never let go.

Don’t let go. Never let go.

Your hand is a perfect fit for his. Every line, edge, dip carved specially for his hand to fit in. The weave of your fingers against his, the light brush of your skin, the heat that spirals into complete warmness when your skin slips against his—you were fucking made for him, just as he was for you, he thinks. Because when your bright eyes and soft smile are in his presence, he sees pure sunlight, sees the pure angelic essence you’re bathed in.

He was made to find you. This much he knows. And whether you choose to stay or go—he’ll have this moment to hold on to. Because he got you once. Your hand in his. This right here is everything he’s ever needed. It may just be your hand brushing against his, your fingers intertwined together, but it feels like home. You feel like home.

So, he lets the soft rain pelt outside against the living room windows, lets the dying fire crackle and pop in the fireplace, and savors the feel of your honey-like soft skin sliding against his. And he stays there for several minutes, maybe an hour, and there’s only silence shrouding the room. But your touch? It screams volumes, makes him feel human again.

For a breath of a moment, you’re his.

Texas rain was a rare phenomenon. Misty showers only a once in a while type thing. But you? You made it pour, made the flood waters wash clear through Austin. He didn’t see it coming, didn’t expect anything like you. But it sure as hell knocked him clear off his feet when you bathed him in your electric thunderstorms.

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freddleafton12345-blog · 2 days ago

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Small nsfw fic w/ Knuckles mwehehe (reader is female and can be mobian, or human!)

You felt the waves of pleasure roll across your body as your partner lapped at your lower regions, as if he was starving.

"Ahh~! Knuckles slow down-" You firmly gripped his quills, feeling the soft yet rough texture on your fingers.

He paused his actions, looking up at you with concern in his magenta eyes. "My dear, are you in pain?"

"N-no but you're going a bit hard. Try not to use your teeth, silly.." you panted with a hazy smile across your face.

"As you command, my queen." The warrior gave you a nod, then he continued to eat you out. He guided your legs to rest over his shoulders, and he gripped your waist.

Your moans only got louder as you felt your high approaching quickly. This felt way too good. And you couldn't be happier to lose your virginity to your partner.

"Fuck~! I'm close~! More, give me more~!!" You screamed.

Knuckles pulled his muzzle away from your slick folds and licked his lips. "If that's what you truly want, I'll gladly oblige." He smirked a bit.

You helped him align his huge member between your folds, then you looked up at him.

Sensing your hesitation, the Echidna leaned down and put a gentle kiss upon your forehead. "Hush now, my dear. I'll make you feel all the pleasure you desire."

Once you gave him a small nod, he gently pushed himself into you with a low groan, gritting his teeth. You moaned and your eyes rolled back as the feeling of ecstacy grew.

The moment he began thrusting is when you lost it, wrapping your arms around him to bring him closer as you moaned like a whole.

"Ahh..my l-love..your body is a magnificent temple!" Knuckles groaned and held you closely, careful not to crush you with his gloved hands.

"Feels g-good! So g-!" You managed to get a hold of yourself when you heard the low sound of the garage door opening.

Oh God's, it was Tom and Maddie! They must've brought the boys home from dinning out earlier than they said they would!

"Knuckles~! Hurry-" You didn't want to delay your release, and you didn't want the family seeing or hearing this.

With a firm nod, the warrior trusted faster and harder, just bringing you to your climax as the front doors opened.

"AYOOO! WE'RE BACK! AND TAILS AND I BROUGHT LEFTOVERS!" Sonic proudly announced, having a small box in his hands.

Maddie looked around the living room, petting Ozzy once before looking at Tom. "Do you think they're in the basement?"

Tom perked up and looked up the stairs. "I can hear noises. I'll go tell them we've got leftovers."

When Tom opened the door to the bedroom, he looked at Knuckles, then you.

"Ah, Mr. Wachowski! You have returned from your journey so soon?" The Echidna had you snuggled against him with the TV displaying some random nature show.

Thank GOD you both managed to fix the bed sheets so they looked decent enough. Otherwise you'd so be dead-

"Yeah, the boys really wanted to get back home for the baseball game tonight. But we brought leftovers, so I thought you two would be interested!"

You nodded and got up, having your comfy clothes on. But when you tried walking, you fell on your face.

"Oh, y/n! Are you okay?" The police officer helped you onto your feet, then he caught sight of the hickeys on your neck. "...um-"

You blushed and dusted yourself off. "Got into a fight with Ozzy! He bit me a few times! But I'm okay!"

The Echidna nodded to back up your point. "I managed to step in and separate them before it got out on control. I will go join the Fox, Hedgehog, and pretzel woman." He took his leave.

Tom shook his head with a knowing smirk, then handed you a turtleneck sweater. "Hide those marks with this, then come join us, okay?"

You nodded in embarrassment.

But it felt good, so you scored a win!

#sonic 3 #sonic movie universe #knuckles x reader #knuckles wachowski #sonic 2 #sonic 2 knuckles

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starlit-eudemonia · 16 days ago

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ok… I just finish Cirrus’s good ending of Ch. 2 (I haven’t played the other sides of it to be messy). And I’m so fucking confused??? /pos.

#like what???#spoilers in tags btw #but how did that happen #Has he been cultivating it in MC this whole time with their rituals #then that begs the question of how lunar ichor is made #or has he been putting in the food/substance they take or eat whenever they with him #or is mc just…delusional and abt to lose it #and that kiss??? WHOAAAA #but every time we got closer to the scene all I kept being reminded #That that man is a literal freak down to the socks #a nonsexual freak but still /pos #all I could do was constantly think about how my MC is literally just doing it for survival and the plot #the way I was screaming with my head in my hands at his actions and attitude and always on thin ice #all I’m saying is I’m so excited to replay it to break it down and compare with the other bad endings #obscura musings

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minkdelovely · 2 days ago

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There’s nothing I love more than waking up to some sweet, salty RadioApple on a Sunday morning.

VEXI 🙏🏻❤️‍🔥 You captured them sooo perfectly! I love Lucifer being the wallflower at the party with Alastor being unable to resist his perfect opportunity. I just know that deep down Lucifer was so relieved to have his company hehe ♥️ thank you for feeding into my RadioApple delusion, and I hope you enjoy my mindless screaming below the cut 🤭

HAPPY NEW YEAR, LITTLE DEVILS! 🥂

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

The hotel gleamed with festivity, gold and black streamers curled from the ceiling like gilded tendrils, shimmering in the soft glow of twinkling lights. Balloons bobbed gently in the air, brushing against a bold, loopy-lettered banner that proclaimed “Happy New Year!” with a cheerfulness Lucifer found difficult to match.

I’M LOCKED IN AND IT’S JUST THE FIRST PARAGRAPH

Lucifer stood apart, forcing a smile to curve his lips, though it felt unnatural. His posture was regal, his tailored suit immaculate, but his fingers curled into tight fists, betraying the serenity he was trying to portray. He took a steadying breath, letting the bubbling laughter of the crowd wash over him, though it did little to ease the tightening in his chest.

our poor luci is such a fish out of water when it comes to frivolity 😭

The longer he stood in the Hazbin Hotel—the hotel his daughter had built, with a certain insufferable demon at her side—the more his certainty began to erode. That bedrock of disdain he had clung to for millennia softened, crumbling into something far more dangerous.

Warmth.

And fear.

AAHHHHHH YESSS!! HE’S STARTING TO CARE!! 🥹

For even now, deep within him, that small flicker of reverence for the Lord’s judgment remained. And if the Lord had deemed these souls unworthy—if they were cast into Hell for their sins—then who was Lucifer to question that divine decree?

you’re the king of hell actually, my darling 💅🏻❤️‍🔥

The voice rang out, sharp and lilting, slicing through the festive air like a knife.

Lucifer’s jaw clenched.

MY FAVORITE REACTION

Alastor stood by Charlie’s side, grinning with that perpetual, unnerving smile that Lucifer despised. He hated the way the demon’s presence filled the room, commanding attention without even trying. He hated the way Alastor’s voice carried—warm and charming, yet laced with a subtle undercurrent of menace.

someone’s been dwelling on a certain overlord 🎶♥️

He had spent countless hours pondering it, obsessing over the enigma that was Alastor. He observed him from afar, dissecting his every action, every word, searching for the sinister ulterior motive that surely lurked beneath the surface.

WHAT DID I JUST SAY??

The sinner—was his name Dusk? Musk?—tilted his head, offering a glass of something dark and potent.

case in point, Luci only remembers two names in that hotel: Charlie and Alastor 😏

For all his power, Lucifer suddenly felt like an outsider—a relic of an ancient past that no longer fit in this strange new world his daughter was trying to create.

LUCIIII 🥺

Husk, perched behind the bar with his perpetual deadpan expression, barely blinked. With a sigh that carried the weight of someone who had long since stopped caring about life’s absurdities, the cat demon grabbed a bottle from the shelf.

HUSK!! I saw this perfectly in my mind omggg 😂♥️ PERFECTION

He tried to look comfortable, but the stiff set of his shoulders and the restless tapping of his fingers against the bar betrayed him.

my socially anxious king ;A;

That telltale crackle of a radio tuning in, followed by a voice as smooth as honey and twice and poisonous.

OUR KING OF RED FLAGS 😮‍💨❤️‍🔥

Lucifer didn’t need to look up to know who it was. He’d recognize that voice anywhere.

he certainly would, it’s committed to memory now 👀

“Indulging in spirits alone? How very… tragic.” Alastor pressed a clawed hand to his chest, tilting his head as if he were genuinely saddened by the sight. But his eyes gleamed with amusement, the downturn of his brows exaggerated to the point of mockery.

BE STILL, MY HEART. MY PERFECT BITCH 😩♥️

“I’m not alone,” Lucifer declared. “I’m drinking with my good friend, Dusk!”

But as his gaze flicked toward Husk, his smirk faltered.

The cat demon was gone.

GOD DAMN IT HUSK! 😂🙈

“Ohhh, I see,” Alastor drawled, his tone dripping with faux understanding. His eyes sparkled with mischievous delight as he leaned in, his elbows resting on the bar. “Why, I must join you two! What a charming little gathering this will be!”

AND HE’S PLAYING INTO THE BIT!! ALASTOR YOU BEAUTIFUL FIEND

“Surely, she would want to drink with her dear old dad… in front of all her friends. You wouldn’t embarrass her at all, now, would you?”

Alastor, there are kinder ways to say you want Lucifer to stay with you at the bar 😭

Lucifer turned slowly, his gaze locking with Alastor’s. The Radio Demon’s grin was insufferable, his legs pressed neatly together, his posture prim and poised. One hand rested lightly against his chest, claws tapping rhythmically as he batted his lashes in mock innocence.

pretty as a picture 🫠 (even though he’s being so fucking rude right now)

“I’m the King of Hell. If anything—” Lucifer slammed the empty glass down on the bar with a satisfying clink after draining the rest of his drink, his glare sharp despite the creeping warmth in his cheeks. “I’m a cool dad.”

that’s the spirit darling 😭

“Oh please,” he scoffed. “Look at you, Bambi. Probably can’t hold your own liquor. What’s the matter? Worried I’ll out drink you, and you’ll have to stumble your way back to your room?” He drained his second cup with a flourish, slamming it down dramatically.

hehehe let the games begin 😈 I looovee when Luci’s superiority comes out

“Fuck you,” he muttered, and with a smooth flick of his wrist, he drained his glass in one long gulp. He slammed it down next to Lucifer’s, the sound ringing out like a challenge. Without hesitation, he refilled both glasses.

HE’S ON CLOUD NINE 💘

The crowd’s voices rose in unison, laughter and excitement filling the air. Lucifer blinked, his gaze drifting toward the centre of the room where Charlie stood, radiant as ever, her hands cupping Maggie’s face as they shared a tender kiss. Their joy was infectious, their love shining bright amidst the darkness of Hell.

CHAGGIE MY BELOVED!! (also I rest my case — Lucifer only knows TWO NAMES in that fucking hotel)

Around them, couples leaned into each other—smiles, laughter, kisses shared beneath the glittering fireworks bursting overhead. Even Dusk and Angel Dust were entwined in a shadowed corner, their silhouettes barely visible in the dim light.

…okay THREE NAMES (but who wouldn’t adore Angel??)

Alastor sat impassively, watching the scene unfold with a distant expression. His glass dangled from his fingers, untouched, his gaze flickering from couple to couple.

For once, the smile on his face seemed… softer.

SENTIMENTAL ALASTOR WILL BE THE DEATH OF MEEEE

Before Lucifer could think better of it, his hand shot out, grabbing Alastor by the lapels.

AND LUCIFER TOO APPARENTLY AHHH!!!!!

Alastor’s muscles tensed beneath Lucifer’s grip, his entire body going rigid. For a moment, he didn’t move—didn’t react. But then, slowly, his fingers curled around Lucifer’s wrist, holding him in place.

And Alastor leaned in.

AAAAHHHHH YESSSS!!! YESSS!!! 🥂🎉❤️‍🔥

“You’re a… you’re a…” Lucifer’s voice slurred, the words tumbling over each other as the room tilted around him. He hiccuped, his vision swimming. “God, you’re a shit kisser.”

ONE OF MY FAVORITE HEADCANONS. VEXIIII I CAN’T!! _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):

“You’re a terrible kisser too.”

Lucifer’s breath hitched.

“But maybe…”

Fingers brushed against his hair, light as a feather.

“We could fix that.”

IT’S A DREAM COME TRUE ALL AROUND!! Or at least for me and Alastor — Lucifer has a little bit of catching up to do hehe 🤭

Fifth Kiss: Endearing

A/N: Bro. I can't write RadioApple. I'm sorry. I suck at writing this ship //don't perceive me!

SUMMARY: A drunken showdown between Lucifer and Alastor spirals into something messy and impulsive—one filled with tension, stubborn pride, and lingering questions neither is ready to answer.

Charlie’s voice floated through the lobby—a sweet, hopeful tune carrying the innocence of someone untouched by the weight of eons. She twirled through the crowd of sinners, bright-eyed and beaming, her very presence a beacon of joy.

It had been centuries since he allowed himself to be surrounded by this many souls—this many sinners. He had grown used to the isolation of his estate, cocooned in the quiet gloom of his own thoughts.

But here… Here he stood, watching them laugh, mingle, and toast to a future that none of them deserved.

Charlie’s smile caught his eye again, radiant and carefree. Her happiness was genuine, untainted by the darkness surrounding her. It made his heart ache with a feeling he couldn’t name.

Conflict.

For all her joy, for all her kindness, Charlie’s dream clashed with the immutable truth etched into Lucifer’s very being. These sinners—these wretched souls—had squandered his gift of freedom, twisting it into unspeakable acts of cruelty, selfishness, and destruction.

And yet…

His gaze swept across the room, catching fleeting moments of tenderness and camaraderie. Sinners offering each other drinks. Laughing. Dancing. Holding hands.

Warmth.

And fear.

“Hahahaha! Oh, Charlie!”

The voice rang out, sharp and lilting, slicing through the festive air like a knife.

Lucifer’s jaw clenched.

Alastor.

His eyes flicked to the source of the sound, his expression cooling into a mask of indifference, though every fibre of his being bristled at the sight of the Radio Demon.

Most of all, he hated the way Charlie looked at him.

Her arms were wrapped around Alastor’s middle in a warm hug, her face alight with gratitude as she thanked him for helping with the decorations. And for a brief, fleeting moment, Lucifer caught a shift in Alastor’s expression—a softening of his crimson eyes, a gentleness that didn’t belong in someone so steeped in human greed and depravity.

That was the problem.

The thorn buried deep in Lucifer’s mind.

Charlie adored him. She trusted him. And try as he might, Lucifer could not understand why.

But the more he watched, the more that motive eluded him.

It was maddening.

“Want a drink?”

A gravelly voice pulled him from his thoughts.

Lucifer turned, his gaze landing on a feline demon with dark fur and bright, mischievous eyes. The sinner—was his name Dusk? Musk?—tilted his head, offering a glass of something dark and potent.

Lucifer blinked, momentarily thrown off balance by the unexpected offer.

He glanced around the room, taking in the lively scene once more. The sinners danced and drank, sharing laughter and joy with one another.

For all his power, Lucifer suddenly felt like an outsider—a relic of an ancient past that no longer fit in this strange new world his daughter was trying to create.

With a soft sigh, he accepted the drink.

Perhaps… blending in wouldn’t hurt.

“Y-Yeah…” Lucifer’s voice cracked, rasping out with a dryness that betrayed his discomfort. His shoulders twitched upward, hitching in embarrassment as he coughed to clear his throat. Straightening his posture, he tried again, forcing his lips into a wide grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I mean… Yeah! Hit on me, bad boy!” he added, waggling his eyebrows in an exaggerated manner, hoping the humour would ease the awkward tension creeping up his spine.

The response was less than enthusiastic.

The glass made a soft clink as it hit the bar, and Lucifer stared at it for a long moment. He took a breath—deep, steadying—before lowering himself onto the barstool with an air of forced nonchalance. His movements were slow, deliberate, as though he could trick himself into believing he belonged here. That he was part of the scene.

He tried to look comfortable, but the stiff set of his shoulders and the restless tapping of his fingers against the bar betrayed him.

Lifting the glass, he swirled the liquid inside before bringing it to his lips. But before he could take that first sip, a familiar and grating sound sliced through the air.

Static.

That telltale crackle of a radio tuning in, followed by a voice as smooth as honey and twice as poisonous.

“My, my, my…”

Lucifer didn’t need to look up to know who it was. He’d recognize that voice anywhere.

Alastor appeared beside him, his ever-present grin stretched wide across his face. Those crimson eyes—bright and unrelenting—immediately flicked to the glass in Lucifer’s hand.

The Radio Demon chuckled, a low, mocking sound that grated on Lucifer’s nerves.

Lucifer clenched his jaw, forcing a tight laugh. He lifted the glass to his lips and took a loud, deliberate sip, letting the burn of the alcohol distract him from the irritation bubbling beneath his skin.

Setting the glass down with a soft thunk, he smirked, gesturing toward Husk with a flourish of his hand.

“I’m not alone,” Lucifer declared. “I’m drinking with my good friend, Dusk!”

But as his gaze flicked toward Husk, his smirk faltered.

The cat demon was gone.

Lucifer’s eyes scanned the bar, spotting Husk on the other side of the room, deep in conversation with that obnoxious spider sinner.

Damn it.

With a snap of his fingers, Alastor conjured a glass of his own—dark, swirling liquid just two fingers width. He plucked the glass from the air, holding it delicately between his fingers as if it were the finest wine.

Lucifer scoffed, rolling his eyes as he glanced back toward Husk, silently willing the cat to return. Husk didn’t even glance his way.

Damn it all.

“I’m good, thanks,” Lucifer muttered, pushing back from the bar. He stood, brushing imaginary dust from his suit as he straightened his bow tie. “Actually, I’m going to drink with Char-Char.” His voice took on a haughty tone as he lifted his chin.

He turned on his heel, fully prepared to march across the room and join his daughter.

But he only made it a few steps before Alastor’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Oh, my dear king, of course! Charlie would absolutely love that.”

Lucifer froze.

There was something in Alastor’s tone—a sly, knowing edge that sent a prickle of unease down his spine.

“Surely, she would want to drink with her dear old dad… in front of all her friends. You wouldn’t embarrass her at all, now, would you?”

Lucifer’s lips pressed into a thin line. His fingers twitched at his sides, itching to wipe that smug expression off Alastor’s face.

This was what the bastard was good at—digging under his skin, twisting the knife with precise, calculated jabs.

Because that was the one thing Lucifer could never fully shake.

That lingering doubt.

His relationship with Charlie had been reforged, rebuilt from the ruins of past mistakes. But there was still a gap between them—a fragile, unspoken tension that neither of them could fully bridge.

And Alastor knew it.

He knew.

Lucifer’s hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms as he forced a smile onto his face.

“I’m sure Charlie wouldn’t mind,” he said, his voice steady but tight.

Alastor’s grin widened, and his eyes glinted with triumph.

“Of course not,” Alastor purred. “After all, she adores you… doesn’t she?”

The words hung in the air like a challenge.

Lucifer swallowed the retort burning on his tongue, his gaze narrowing.

This was their dance—a delicate, dangerous game of push and pull.

And tonight, Lucifer wasn’t sure who was winning.

The bitter burn of the liquor scorched his throat on the way down, but he fought the wince threatening to crack his mask.

Alastor’s brow arched in amusement. With a lazy snap of his fingers, the empty glass refilled itself, the liquid sloshing inside with a rich amber glow. He lifted his own glass to his lips, sipping delicately, crimson eyes watching Lucifer over the rim.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re a lightweight.” His voice was sweet poison, smooth and mocking. As he set his glass down, his lips curled into that insufferable grin. “I understand now. Well, hurry along then.”

He turned his back, but Lucifer didn’t miss the subtle twitch of his ears—the faintest flicker of anticipation.

Lucifer knew he was being baited. He knew. But something about Alastor’s smug confidence gnawed at him. The unspoken implication that Lucifer was weaker, lesser, somehow beneath him—it stung more than it should have.

With a low growl, Lucifer plopped back onto the barstool, crossing his arms as he leaned forward.

Alastor’s forced laugh echoed between them, his ears flicking downward for a moment before springing back up.

And so it began—a quiet war of stubborn pride.

They drank.

And drank.

Somewhere along the way, their barbs blurred into slurred insults and lazy grins. At one point, Lucifer declared with a grand sweep of his arms that their drinks were child’s play and produced a bottle of Hell’s finest liquor—the kind that made even the most hardened demons wince.

Alastor’s grin faltered for the briefest second.

“Want to stick to your rye, or are you man enough for a real drink?” Lucifer taunted, his words slurring just slightly.

Alastor’s eyes narrowed to slits. Without a word, he shoved his glass toward Lucifer, the demand clear.

The first sip hit like fire, burning all the way down. Lucifer gritted his teeth, refusing to show weakness.

Cup after cup, they kept going.

Time slipped away, the world softening at the edges. Sounds blurred, the buzz of conversation fading into the rhythmic pulse of his heartbeat. Lights danced across Lucifer’s vision, bright and hazy.

Somewhere in the haze, he heard the countdown begin.

“Ten! Nine! Eight!”

Lucifer glanced to his side.

Alastor sat impassively, watching the scene unfold with a distant expression. His glass dangled from his fingers, untouched, his gaze flickering from couple to couple.

For once, the smile on his face seemed… softer.

Before Lucifer could think better of it, his hand shot out, grabbing Alastor by the lapels.

“What are you—”

Lucifer crushed their lips together.

The kiss was sudden, clumsy, tasting of alcohol and bitterness.

And Alastor leaned in.

There was a strange desperation to the way their lips pressed together—a messy, unspoken challenge. Lucifer felt the sharp scrape of teeth as Alastor nipped at his lower lip, drawing blood.

He hissed, pulling back with a glare.

“You’re a… you’re a…” Lucifer’s voice slurred, the words tumbling over each other as the room tilted around him. He hiccuped, his vision swimming. “God, you’re a shit kisser.”

Alastor snorted, his grin twisting into something more genuine—more amused.

Lucifer took one stumbling step backward, the world spinning beneath his feet.

Then he crumpled.

The floor was cold against his cheek, the distant sounds of laughter and celebration fading into a dull hum. His body felt heavy, warmth spreading through his veins as the alcohol took its toll.

As his eyes fluttered shut, the edges of consciousness slipping away, he heard a voice—soft, almost gentle.

“You’re a terrible kisser too.”

Lucifer’s breath hitched.

“But maybe…”

Fingers brushed against his hair, light as a feather.

“We could fix that.”

Darkness pulled him under, but the faint echo of Alastor’s voice lingered in his mind, teasing and...

Endearing.

❀˖° Like my story? Toss a coffee to the gremlin—probably safe, but no promises! ❀˖° Join Voxtek Server and Follow Me for live updates!

#it’s a new year to love radioapple y’all #if you thought i was crazy about them last year well…#BUCKLE UP #cuz my resolution was to be WORSE #radioapple #radioapple fan fiction #alastor x lucifer #alastor x lucifer fan fiction #hazbin hotel fan fiction #article by mink

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igneouswyvern · 11 months ago

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every day i live in anguish over the pendrago arc of zestiria because i am and always will be of the opinion that sorey should have been the one to kill cardinal forton and not rose

listen i understand why they made that choice. i understand why they waited to make the drama of sorey's first kill in the final battle with heldalf. i understand that rose is the assassin and it tracks for her to be the one to do the dirty work and it makes sense for her to not want the shepherd to have to do that. i get it. i understand. however. i simply think sorey should have been the one to do it

it's such a turning point in his character arc as he learns that some people can never be saved and sometimes the death of one is what's best for the rest of the world. it's what makes him start to realize that he can't be the hero of every person ever. and that maybe death is better for the individual than living the way they do. and we can see it impact him (briefly). but can you imagine how much more he would have been impacted by it if the blood was on his hands. in the game he grapples with the fact that he wasn't able to save her. but imagine if he also had to grapple with the fact that he was the one who took her life. can you imagine what that would have done for his character

and i mean i would have understood if he was too pussy to do it, like he hesitated and wasn't strong enough to go through with it and rose had to cover his ass before he got himself killed. but like no. he was standing there, knife in hand, winding up for the kill and she just jumped in and did it instead. he was resolute, he knew what he had to do, he was fully prepared he was fully ready to deal the killing blow. and rose stole it from him. listen you can't just show him holding the knife, preparing to stab her, and cut to black and play a gross stabbing sound effect and NOT expect me to go wild imagining what could have happened when the lights came back on.

and okay maybe it's just me being sadistic and wanting to make sorey my punching bag. i do love doing that. but you have to understand where i'm coming from right. how much more interesting his character arc would have been if he'd had to be the one to make that kill. and that whole sequence and what follows just convinces me that the writers were too afraid to hurt sorey too badly. they wouldn't let him kill and his signature tales-protagonist-depression-arc lasts all of two minutes before he's back to cheery and nerdy and optimistic sorey. please. please i'm begging you im on my hands and knees please hurt sorey please cause him emotional damage please let him feel like shit for more than 10 seconds i am pleading with you zestiria writers give me this give me this one thing

#can you tell i'm insane about this.#actually it was this exact moment when i first became mentally unwell about zestiria during my first playthrougg #nothing like missed potential to get the brain absolutely churning with ideas #there's a reason all my mind aus always feature sorey killing cardinal forton. its what should have happened #slams fist on table LET HIM KILL PEOPLE. LET HIM MURDER. LET HIM COMMIT VIOLENT ACTS #LET HIM FEEL GUILTY AND HORRIBLE AND BE IRREPARABLY AFFECTED BY HIS ACTIONS #shaking screaming throwing up pendrago arc. pendrago arc please. please live up to your fullest potential. please don't chicken out on me #i swear to god i watched the cutscene head in my hands begging for there to somehow be a way that i misremembered and he actually does the k #killing. but no. ofc i remembered exactly every detail. because i'm insane about this. as i mentioned #i lose my mind every day thinking about what pendrago arc could have been #wyvern rambles #tales of zestiria #sorey #wyvern's zestyposting #rants

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miihho · 5 days ago

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Can you write type of guy headcanons for thanos (230) please? thx <33

THE KIND OF GUY

(squid game edition) nsfw

English

Korean

Thanos / Player 230

��THANOS IS THE KIND OF GUY who’d shamelessly flirt with you, his words dripping with confidence and charm. He’d slip in Spanish pet names like "señorita" so naturally, it was as if he were born to sweep you off your feet.

There was one day when he suddenly dropped to his knees, a smirk dancing on his lips as he grabbed your hand gently. "I might just start my own religion, because of how often I find myself on my knees for you." He said as he brought your hand to his lips and kissed it, his gaze never leaving yours. You felt your face heat up, a soft blush spreading across your cheeks at the boldness of his actions.

He’d also call you every sweet name in the book—"baby," "angel," "princess," "beautiful"—each one rolling off his tongue with effortless confidence. And if that weren’t enough, he’d take it a step further, rapping his feelings for you in a way that was both cheesy and undeniably endearing.

—He’s the kind of guy who’d have a slow-burn romance without even realizing it. At first, it’s nothing more than casual interactions, small moments here and there. He doesn’t notice the shift—how his thoughts linger on you longer than they should, how he starts to care just a little bit more. It’s gradual, almost imperceptible, until one random moment hits him. Like it would suddenly click that he likes you. And now, he can’t stop thinking about it.

—He’s the kind of guy who wouldn’t give up on you, no matter how many times you ignored him. Your cold shoulder, your silence—it didn’t faze him. If anything, it only fueled his determination. He’d chase after you relentlessly, his confidence unwavering, his charm impossible to ignore, until you had no choice but to face him.

He spotted you weaving through the crowd, your determined strides screaming leave me alone. Naturally, that only made his grin wider. He adjusted his jacket, his confidence as unshakable as ever, and started after you.

"Señorita!" he called out, you didn’t even glance back at him, but when he saw your pace quicken, it only fueled his determination. He caught up easily, walking alongside you like he belonged there.

"Ah, playing hard to get? I like that," he teased, tilting his head to glance at you with that infuriatingly smug smile. "But you know, you make it way too easy for me to chase you baby. You’re irresistible."

You rolled your eyes and turned sharply, hoping to lose him in the crowd. But the next corner you turned, there he was—leaning casually against a wall, arms crossed, like he’d been waiting there all along.

"Miss me already?" he teased with a smirk, his body blocking your path. "You can run, but you can't hide princess. Not from me."

You tried to sidestep him, but before you could get far, he placed a hand dramatically over his heart, feigning hurt. "Ouch, breaking my heart like that? Really?"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes in disbelief. "Just stop, I can’t stand you."

With a smirk that practically oozed confidence, he leaned in slightly, his voice teasing yet bold. "Then just sit on my face."

"W-what!?" You froze, eyes wide with shock, your heart pounding. "Just fuck off!" you snapped, brushing past him quickly, your face flushed in a mix of embarrassment and irritation.

He chuckled, watching you retreat with that same infuriating smirk. But you knew, as much as you tried to get away, he wouldn’t stop. He was persistent, and no matter how many times you brushed him off, he’d keep following, keep bothering you.

—He’s the kind of guy who wouldn’t tolerate some random guy flirting with you. If he saw it happening, he wouldn’t hesitate to step in. He’d interrupt the conversation, push the guy back with a forceful shove, and growl, "Back off man! Who the fuck do you think you are hitting on my girl!?" (Yeah even tho you're not his yet)

If the guy was making you laugh or smile, he’d simmer in silence, his jealousy simmering beneath the surface. Once the guy was alone, he’d track him down, corner him, and with a dangerous edge to his voice, he’d lean in, his eyes burning with fury.

"Stay the fuck away from Y/n. Got it?" He said, his fist landing a brutal punch to the guy’s stomach, leaving him crumpled on the floor. "She’s my girl," he’d add, his tone low and possessive. "My woman."

—He’s the kind of guy who can’t help but yell, "Ah, there’s my girl!" with a huge grin spreading across his face when you made it out alive. Without a second thought, he’d rush to you, scoop you up in a tight embrace, and hold you like he’d never let go. "I’m so happy you're alive, baby. God, you don’t know how much I missed you." His grip would tighten as if to never let you slip away again.

—He’s the kind of guy who isn’t intimidated by you. He’ll rush toward you, full of energy, relieved that you made it through when the lights went out. While everyone else stood frozen in fear, staring in shock, you were casually wiping blood off your hands, having taken down a whole group without breaking a sweat.

—He’s the kind of guy who can’t believe he’s dating you after you finally accepted him. Like, a guy like him? Sure, he’s Thanos and pretty damn cool, but damn, you’re way cooler than him. So, every now and then, he’ll just blurt out, “Damn, I’m dating her?” when he thinks about you, or “I can’t believe she’s mine.” and his friend will just stare at him, completely weirded out.

—He's the kind of guy who's wildly in love with you, the type to fight a wild animal just to impress you. He lives to make you laugh, even if it means pulling off the dumbest, most ridiculous stunts. His love is chaotic, loud, and endlessly entertaining, but that's what makes it so unforgettable.

One day he tried to bake you a cake from scratch, only to set off the smoke alarm—but he still proudly presented you with the lopsided, half-burnt result, claiming it was "made with love." Or he'd show up at your door with a bouquet made of random wildflowers (and weeds), proudly declaring it’s “nature’s finest” while grinning like a fool.

—He’s the kind of guy who would let you paint his nails in any color you choose or decorate them however you like, all because he loves you and wants you to have that little piece of him.

—Thanos is the kind of guy who always needs to be in physical contact with you when you're together—his hand on your thigh, his arm around your shoulders. He craves that connection, that constant reassurance of your presence. Public displays of affection? He couldn’t care less. If you want him to kiss you in front of everyone, consider it done. If you mention he can kiss you after a game, why would he wait for privacy when he can claim you right in front of his friends? For him, it’s not just about the kiss—it’s about showing the world that you’re his and making sure you feel adored, no matter where you are.

—He’s the kind of guy who’s utterly captivated by your thighs, completely addicted to the way they feel wrapped around him. There’s nowhere else he’d rather be, no place more intoxicating than being suffocated by your softness.

He doesn’t just admire them—he worships them. His lips leave a trail of love marks along your skin, his way of claiming every inch as his own. Between kisses, his voice comes out low and teasing, filled with desire. (He also loves eating you out while you're wrapping your thighs around his head and getting suffocated by it. )

—He’s the kind of guy who would cover you in hickeys, leaving them all over your neck and thighs, a clear sign that you’ve been claimed and are already his. With a smirk, he’d tell you he’s just marking his priority, as if every mark is a reminder of who you belong to.

—He’s the kind of guy who’d proudly show you off to his friends with a grin and say, “Yeah, this my girl right here.” And damn, he wouldn’t just say it—he’d feel like the luckiest guy alive to have you by his side.

—He’s the kind of guy who doesn’t just take you—he claims you. If he ever finds out you're with someone else, he'll make sure you remember exactly who you belong to.

Thanos' rough words dripped with condescension as he gripped your hips, pulling you onto his thick shaft in one brutal thrust. You cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders as he began to pound into your mercilessly. "You're fucking mine, this fucking tight pussy is mine," he snarled, his balls slapping against your ass with each savage stroke. "This fat cock is the only thing you need. That pathetic loser can't touch this, can he?" He reached down to rub you clit, his fingers pinching the sensitive bud as he continued to ravage you. "Hngg!...—pls s'too much! too much! Thanos m'sorry p-please I w-won't do it again."

"Stop?" He chuckled, "We both know you love this. Being used like a cheap whore, stuffed full of dick. Admit it, you'd rather choke on my cum than go back to that limp-dicked loser."

—Hes the kind of guy who loves messy blow jobs. The sight of your lips stretched obscenely around his throbbing cock, your eyes glazed over in blissful submission, he fucking loves it. Loves how you surrendered completely, letting him control every movement as he fucks your mouth.

"Fuck... Your throat was made for my dick, wasn't it? Such a perfect fit, like you were born to worship my cock." he moaned, tangling his fingers in your hair and using your mouth like a cheap fleshlight as he chased his pleasure. The wet sounds of sloppy oral sex filled the air, punctuated by your muffled whimpers and gurgles. (Gosh he fucking loves that) "Fuck yes... hngg—take it baby, take it all, you filthy little cumdump!" His hips snapped forward, burying his cock to the hilt in your gullet while thick ropes of cum spilled in your mouth, forcing you to gag and sputter around his girth. "Look at you, such a good girl, gagging on my dick like it's your purpose in life. You were meant to be a cumdump, weren't you? Fucking slut."

—He's the kind of guy who loses his shit when you squirt into his mouth, he just fucking loves it when you're flooding his mouth with your ambrosial release. Saying "Holy shit," "I love you so fucking much baby," "Mmmm, you're fucking addictive as hell, baby. Can't get enough of this sweet juices." as he greedily laps up every drop. Just the taste of your squirting orgasm would send him into a fucking frenzy.

—He's the kind of guy who takes you apart piece by piece every time he gets you alone, his usual cruel exterior dissolving into raw, unbridled need. He doesn't just touch you—he worships you, his mouth and hands working in perfect harmony to draw out every moan, every shiver, every scream he can pull from you.

"You’re so fucking beautiful when you cum for me," he'd say, his voice dripping with hunger as his fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over again. His lips never leave your skin, trailing kisses and bites down your thighs, across your stomach, up to your neck.

"Look at you, spread open and dripping for me like the filthy little slut you are," he taunted, dragging a finger through your slick folds. "I bet all those prissy boys never made you feel this good, did they? They probably couldn't handle a real woman like you." he whispers, his breath hot against your ear as your body writhes beneath him. Even when your legs shake and your cries turn into breathless pleas, he doesn’t stop. He keeps you teetering on the edge, drawing out orgasm after orgasm until you’re left trembling, completely undone, and utterly his.

#thanos x reader #smut #squid game #squid game fanfic #squid game season 2 #squid game smut #squid game x reader #thanos squid game #t.o.p #choi su bong #choi su bong x reader

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sttoru · 5 months ago

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⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. toji cannot wait to break in his virgin girlfriend—though until then, he’ll settle for simply teasing you until you’re a trembling mess.

tags. toji fushiguro x virgin!female reader. smut, pwp. age gap (reader early 20’s, toji early 30’s). corruption kink. dry humping? cum play. size difference. reader gets called ‘princess, doll’ queued

toji loves to tease you—you know that very well. he thrives off your reactions to his dirty words, the subtle yet naughty touches that he sneaks in during conversations, the seductive glint in his half lidded eyes whenever you’re around . . he knows what he’s doing.

even more so when you’re in his bed at night. you usually cuddle, sometimes make out and grind against each other, but nothing too lewd yet. toji doesn’t mind waiting to get a taste of you. he knows it will be worth the wait at the end.

but oh—is it difficult. so, so difficult. especially when you allow him access to more parts of your body.

“shit, princess,” he pants, hissing a bit when the mushroom tip of his cock bumps against your clothed clit, “y’re gettin’ so wet, huh? just by looking at my cock ‘n feeling it rub against your pussy.”

your cotton panties surely are damp with arousal; from both toji and you. his pre-cum mixes with your juices, ruining your favorite pair of panties. the wet spot forming near your slit only gets darker and darker the more you allow toji to rub his dick back and forth over your cunt.

“mngh—fuck. need you,” you whine, unable to fight the urge to buck your hips against his fat cock. your eyes dart up to your boyfriend to express your neediness, but he grabs your nape and guides your gaze back to his red tip pushing against your sloppy underwear.

toji lets out a dry chuckle. “i know y’ do. y’r pussy told me that long time ago,” he comments while he watches your adorable reactions to him pushing and pulling his cock from your clothed pussy. he’s only interested in you—the way your eyes glisten with tears and pleasure.

if it isn’t for his self control, he would have fucked you by now. but he’ll patiently wait until the perfect timing to push through that invisible wall, to pop your cherry while he looks you in the eyes, taking that innocence from you that he oh-so loves.

“want my cock, doll?” toji asks with a wicked grin. his large hands runs over your chest to your tummy. he guides his shaft over to your belly, measuring how much of your insides it would fill. “mm, yeah—would mess you up pretty bad,” he hums as the tip reaches your belly button. even further than that.

the thought excites the older man. to be your first, the first man who’ll mould your pussy to only fit his cock. no one else will have the honor of stripping you from your virginity.

“want it. want it all the way inside me,” you reply back, voice shaking with excitement. you’re going to cum soon from him simply grinding against your clothed cunt. your poor clit is continuously being circled and bumped against by his tip and it’s driving you crazy.

toji swallows thickly. “don’t ya tempt me like that,” he warns you in a dark tone. he runs a rough finger over your wet panties, keeping your legs spread wide with his knees. he easily finds your little hole as the cotton material sticks to your pussy, showing the outlines of your lips.

“might just push in here. .” toji murmurs as he positions the leaking head of his dick against your covered entrance, “. . and fill you up while hearing you scream my name. sounds good, ay?”

you gasp and feel your cunt clench around nothing. his hips move back and forth, shallow thrusts against the barrier that is your panties, mimicking the real thing. “y-yeah—oh, ‘m g’nna cum,” your heart rate picks up as your back arches off the mattress.

toji raises an eyebrow, secretly finding it endearing how that is the action that pushes you over the edge. you’re so adorable; simply thinking of him actually fucking you senseless and the feeling of his tip seeking your pussy is enough.

“aww, she’s gonna cum,” the dark-haired man snickers after mocking you. toji gauges your reactions and grins when he sees your head rolling back against the pillow.

“do y’ wanna cum together? we can,” he smirks as he leans down to intertwine your hands—playing the role of the gentle boyfriend who’s having sex with his girlfriend for the first time. he’s trying to give you the full experience while not actually giving it to you yet.

“y-yes, wanna cum together,” you nod mindlessly, your mouth feeling dry. you squeeze your eyes shut while also holding tightly onto toji’s hand. your pussy tightens up around air while your hips buck up to meet toji’s thrusts against your covered, wet hole.

“c-close—ngh, toji!” your eyes widen once his tip pressing snugly between your pussy lips. for a second it felt like his cock had successfully breached through your panties. that short-lived moment is enough to push you over the edge and cum on spot.

toji witnesses the bliss in your facial expression and he groans. “fuckkk—take it. g’nna cum all over ya princess,” he presses his hips firmly against yours, his full length resting right between your wet folds, ropes of cum spurting out of his aching tip.

you feel the sticky liquid stain your belly, running down to the waistband of your panties and even staining the front part. your choked up moans are music to your boyfriend’s ears while he calms down from his own orgasm.

his big biceps tremble as he holds himself up above you, grinning from ear to ear. “keheh, made a mess out of you,” toji’s voice is filled with pride. he lets you cling onto him for as long as you need to.

his eyes dart down to the sticky mess on your tummy and panties. the older man leans back on his knees to admire the view. he really couldn’t wait to actually slide inside of your tight cunt—but this will suffice for now. the sight of his cute girlfriend trembling and whimpering beneath him makes up for everything.

his fingers hook around the waistband of your panties. “can i look, doll?” toji asks in a gruff voice, desparate to see your glistening cunt. you weakly nod and he doesn’t waste any more time.

the sight greeting him when he pulls your underwear down is nearly enough to make him cum again. your juices are everywhere, multiple strings of wetness connecting your pussy to your panties. they snap one after the other as your panties are slowly removed.

“oh, y’re such a messy girl,” toji sighs, leaning down to kiss your tummy, licking up some of his own cum. you shiver and your hands dart out to hold onto his black hair. he chuckles at the gesture, humming in acknowledgement.

his eyes darken when he catches a glimpse of your sopping pussy again. he’s so close to it — so extremely close. his gaze darts over to a drop of his cum that threatens to slide down and over your clit. the heat and smell of your cunt is driving that man to the brink of insanity.

toji lolls his tongue out, eyes glistening with desire while he pushes your legs up and over his shoulders, big hands holding onto your hips. drool gathers in the corners of his mouth as his face hovers right between your legs;

“mind if i have a taste of you, princess? jus’ a quick one, i promise.”

#sttoru writes.#jjk smut #jjk x reader #toji smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #toji x you #toji x y/n

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slightly-knot-insane · 4 months ago

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Breaking a Promise

You love your monster boyfriends cock. It's huge, long, ribbed, a wonderful alien shape that you can't even describe. Beautiful colors are splashed across it, along the veins, glans, his balls, and surrounding the lovely hole that shoots that delicious load all over and inside you. You love to lick that little hole, pushing your tongue inside, tasting the pre-cum while listening to the grunts of your handsome boyfriend. His muscles spasm, he barely keeps himself under control. You forbade him to touch you this time. This time, he's your monster toy.

You glide your tongue slowly along his shaft, kissing every curve and stripe, every little marking. He can only squirm under your touch because he promised - he promised! - not to place a finger on you.

Smiling deviously, you continue your torture, soaking his monster phallus with your saliva. You suck his balls and foreskin, pulling them with your teeth. He hisses, his hands curled into fists. "Fuck... you are evil..."

"Evil?" You lift yourself on your knees and crawl closer to his dick. You kneel and start grinding yourself up and down along his soft creases, stimulating your swollen clit. "I am now."

"Fuck..." His head falls backward, exasperated sigh escaping his lips. He swallows hard while he grunts, controlling his arms, scratching the bedsheets like a nervous cat. "Please... Let me, just a little bit..."

"No", you snap, too focused on your pleasure, holding his dick against yourself and rocking your hips. Your moans become louder and you can feel your core aching. You push yourself forward, forcing his cock on his stomach so that you can ride it with more force. "Ah... ah... yes, I'm close."

He puts his hands behind his head, biting his bicep, trying not to look at you. But he can feel and hear every part of you. He can feel your wet cunt, the moist sounds, your pants and whimpers, your folds sliding along his cock.

"I'm gonna—" Your orgasm hard, screaming from delight, still humping his cock, making your clit pulsate. It is so intense, you shake and whimper like a pathetic plaything.

"Fuck this!" He grabs your hips and lifts you up like a doll. You aren't aware of his actions until you feel his full length inside your still pulsating pussy. "Ahhh yes!", you scream.

His pounding cock enhances your ongoing orgasm and just pushes the next wave forward. Hearing him grunt and groan while slamming your pussy against his groin speeds things up. You climax again, him balls deep inside you, chasing his own release.

"Oh fuck, baby, you feel so good... Your pussy loves my cock... It throbs around my cock... Ah..."

He presses you against his chest so that his hips can buck with full force. With a deep guttural growl, he buries his cock deep inside you and cums. He fills you up so much, you feel the pressure inside your womb as it swells.

After catching his breath, he says, in a most fake apologetic voice: "I'm sorry I broke my promise."

With half-lidded eyes, you kiss his chest. "You are not, you whore. At least you break your promises in a really fantastic way."

#monster imagine #monster #monster lover #monster fucker #monster boyfriend #monster fuqqer #werewolf #werewolf lover #werewolf romance #teratophillia #terat0philliac #terato #monster x fem!reader #monster x reader #monster x you #slightlyknotinsane #ski.doc

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backinmyphase · 27 days ago

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"A gift from our village for the king, the great Lord Sukuna!"

There was cheering behind you, firing up the hatred for these people who threw you out for the lion the second their life was threatened. The king was sitting there, chin on his hand as his eyes went over you. You knew he was making out your worth right now. Deciding if you were really good enough for a gift.

He was a strange looking man. Four arms, two different sides of a face, marks everywhere and you could see with just how he was sitting that he had a tall frame.

He was strange, but more like fascinating strange. However, that wouldn't make you hate him any less. After all he was the reason these people, you called your people once, gave you away that easily.

If only he didn't exist.

"You are staring."

His voice is deep but with a tint of mockery. Normally you would lower your head. If you were normal thinking, you wouldn't have risked your head for a snappy comment. No, you would have just kept your mouth shut.

"You are too."

There were many gasps. The strange monk with white hair next to him frowned. But the Lord didn't even raise an eyebrow.

Instead he stood up and you saw you were correct with your assumption, he was towering above everyone here. He slowly made his steps towards you. Now you were realizing how dangerous your action was. Just the way his presence made you want to hide was enough prove that he was danger. He stopped before you, looking down on you.

His hand found it's way to your chin lifting it, so you kept looking at him. You knew you shouldn't move. One snap with his finger and you would be... Oh well.

"I am." he grinned, while meeting your eyes. His were red. So unbelievable red, only blood could be.

"I hope I am allowed."

The silence spoke loud. You knew he was mocking you. He was making out right now if he should kill you or not, you were sure. There was just no way out of it, the decision was purely relying on his mood.

"Of course the king is allowed!" you heard screams from the people behind you.

"Lord Sukuna can do whatever he wants, no commoner can speak with him that way!"

There was loud mumbling of agreement behind you, which made your body stiffen. They were trying to get on his good side, there was no doubt.

"Offering such a pretty flower, just because they heard I was coming. Assuming I would destroy this place." his fingers were slowly caressing your chin. "You must be angry they were so willing to give you to me, are you not?"

You blinked at him, seeing his grin growing.

"Want me to kill them?"

The mumbling immediately died down, the tension now palpable in the air. Sukuna was still staring, watching your every move, even just the glancing of your eyes. You were shaking. But not just out of fear.

"I don't need them to die." You saw how Sukuna raised an eyebrow while there was small sighing behind you, just until you spoke again. "But...

If you did want to kill them, I wouldn't be mad enough to stop you."

The only thing you heard was your own breathing. The people behind you were quiet like they were not even there. You didn't look at them no, you didn't dare to.

Not when the king was looking into your eyes.

Then he let go off your chin and started laughing. Just laughing for an unbearable long time. Time, in which you wondered if you were dead now.

But he just shook his head while his laughter died down.

"Uraume, bring her to the estate." The white haired monk was already by your side. They were looking at him with a curious glance.

"And you my lord?"

"I have a Village to kill."

Part 2

#sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #jjk #sukuna ryomen #sukuna #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #sukuna ryoumen x reader

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oncasette · 2 months ago

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𝗕𝗟𝗔𝗠𝗘 𝗜𝗧 𝗢𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗡

jj maybank x fem!reader

summary: 1.1k

Your head is spinning. You must be dreaming. There’s no way you’re actually kissing your best friend right now, not quite sure if he’s still your best friend at that moment or not, but not caring enough to pull back and check.

or the one where jj spills his feelings for his best friend.

a/n: i haven't seen s4 and i don't know if i'm going to, but here's this jj fic since i was feeling up for it? question mark? it's all fluff.

masterlist

“Done in there?” JJ calls from where he’s no doubt spread out on your bed. You can’t help the small laugh that trickles out of you as you open the door, still facing the mirror as you finish up your skincare routine. In the corner of the mirror, you catch JJ’s reflection fiddling with a lighter.

“Don’t burn down my bedroom,” you say. He looks up at you, catching your gaze in the mirror. He flips the spark wheel. A small flame erupts, already being bullied down by the high setting on your ceiling fan.

“What? Don’t trust me?” he smirks.

“Not even a bit,” you chirp, setting all of your creams and oils back into your medicine cabinet.

He sets the lighter down on your nightstand.

“Comfy?” you giggle, watching as he snuggles down further under your plush duvet. You’re glad you made him change, not sure you’d ever get the dirt and sweat from his clothes out of your sheets. He nods, humming. You feel his eyes tracking your movements as you shut the bathroom light off and slide under the covers beside him. It’s almost instantaneous that JJ molds to your side, pushing up your arm in order to lay his head against your shoulder, nose in your neck. You do your best to ignore the way your stomach flutters a bit.

JJ had always been touchy with you. You like to think that he does it with everyone, that that was just his nature. You’d seen him sling an arm around Pope at the Boneyard, tug Kiara into a hug, spin her around, even, kiss John B on the cheek in some of his more emphatic moments. But, you couldn’t ignore the way he was with you. The lingering touches, the snuggling, the sleepovers, the kisses against your temple. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been out on the HMS without him putting his hat on you. It’s friendly enough for you to brush off, for the most part. For you to push it all down and justify his actions when the rest of the pogues prod you for information.

It’s moments like this, though–alone, away from prying eyes–that you allow yourself to pretend. Just a little.

You bring up a hand to his hair and run the tips of your nails across his scalp. He purrs, curling closer into you and you feel his eyelashes brush your skin as his eyes close.

“‘S it raining?” he mumbles into you. His hand slides over your stomach as he reaches for the hand not currently in his hair. Slowly, nearly leaving goosebumps beneath his fingers, he intertwines his fingers with yours. There’s no way this is platonic. Right? Your brain screams at you.

“What?” you hum, brushing your thumb over his knuckles.

“Rain. From the sky. Outside.”

You look at the window.

“Yeah. Yeah, J, it’s raining.”

He smiles, kissing the skin already beneath his lips. That’s new.

“I like the rain,” he chirps, voice surprisingly drowsy for how energetic he’d been before you’d left for your shower.

“Do you?”

He nods, humming. “Makes everything slow down a bit.”

“I didn’t think you liked slowing down,” you say, your fingers moving down from his hair to ghost over his back.

“I like slowing down when I’m with you,” he shrugs. You feel him shudder slightly when your nails gently scrape across his shoulder blades. “Plus, I look sexy when I’m all drenched like that.”

You snort and smack him on the shoulder.

“Ow! What was that for?” he scoffs, head snapping up to glare at you pitifully.

“Smug bastard,” you laugh. He winks as his lips curl into a fittingly smug smirk.

“You love it,” he says. His hand squeezes yours, still held tight in his grasp. You don’t respond in words, instead opting to squeeze his hand back. You feel his heart rate jump against your ribs. His eyes flicker between yours. The smirk slowly drops into something a little less cocky. Something a little softer. Warmer. You watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows. It’s only when his gaze moves down to your lips that your own breath stutters. That definitely can’t be platonic.

He whispers your name so quietly you almost don’t hear it. You probably wouldn’t have if he hadn’t been so close.

“I think I love you,” he says. What.

“I love you, too, J,” you say, pasting on your friendliest voice to try and ignore the way his breath is now fanning over your face. He smells like the gum he’d stolen from your car.

“No, I mean…” he clamps his eyes shut. “I do love you, like that, like a friend. Of course I do, you’re my best friend-”

“John B’s your best friend,” you cut him off, because there’s no way this is actually happening.

“Listen, just… I,” he drops his head against your sternum, frustration seeming to roll off of him in waves.

“I’m sorry, I’m listening,” you say softly.

“I don’t want to keep doing this,” he grunts.

“Doing what?”

“Pretending.”

Pretending.

“Pretending?” you ask, placing a hand on his cheek to pull his gaze back up to yours. You smile softly at the way he nuzzles into your palm.

“You really don’t see it, do you?” he asks. His eyes are closed, his nose pressed against your thumb. “I thought I was being obvious.”

You need more than these clipped comments. Stupidly, something deeper in the back of your mind can’t settle for even the chance of you misconstruing this. Of being wrong.

“Obvious about what, J?”

“I already told you,” he whispers. He just barely kisses the pad of your thumb.

“Tell me again,” you beg, holding your breath.

“I’m in love with you.”

“Good,” you hiccup.

“Good? That’s all you have to say? I’m pouring my heart out here, baby,” he huffs and your heart nearly stops altogether. A bewildered giggle slips out of you.

“That’s good because I… uh,” you swallow. “I love you, too.”

He doesn’t answer this time. He slides up the last couple of inches to press his lips against yours. His free hand comes up to cup your jaw, bringing your mouth even harder against his. His other hand squeezes yours for dear life.

You’d kissed him before. On New Year’s Eve at the stroke of midnight. But, that had been a quick, chaste peck between friends and you’d been able to blame the fireworks behind your eyelids on the holiday, and this. This was different. Much, much different. There were sparks tingling down to the tips of your toes. You pull back when you can no longer justify ignoring your need for oxygen and nearly whine when JJ chases your lips.

“I’m in love with you.” His voice is hoarse.

“You said that,” you giggle, brain still a little hazy.

“Yeah, I don’t think you’re going to get me to stop saying it now,” he says. His body weight is almost fully pressed onto you as he ducks his head to place short kisses against your neck. Your fingers find his hair again, combing through the silky strands. You mentally thank him for stealing your shampoo.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #rudy pankow #rudy pankow x reader #outer banks #outer banks fic

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sinfulcries · 2 months ago

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I WANNA FUCK YOU LIKE AN ANIMAL! / GOJO SATORU

AUTHORS NOTE: wow dylan’s writing again after a million years 🤓 i could not miss out on halloween so what better way to celebrate than to destroy gojo’s ass? i miss you guys lots and i miss getting all creative nd being able to write again after dealing with so many stressful things irl <\3 this is pretty tame compared to my previous smuts and this is like also a month old so my apologies 🙂‍↕️

CONTENT WARNINGS! knife play, overstimulation, pet names (doll, sweetheart,) slasher reader x victim gojo, implied marathon sex

"That's it, baby, spread those pretty legs f'me." A dark chuckle escaped your lips as the rough tips of your fingers roamed the smooth expanse of Satoru's legs, opening them wide enough to reveal his leaking cock lying hard and useless on his flat stomach. Satoru could only muster a whine in response, trying to pull you in deeper whilst your thick cock nudged teasingly against his puckering hole. "Please," He whimpered prettily, his pale cheeks flushing red with arousal and hunger.

The white haired man didn't need to see your face to know that you were grinning down at him sadistically underneath the ghostface mask you were wearing, and it only made his cock twitch with need as you pinned him down onto the plush mattress— rendering him utterly helpless against you. "I'm about to kill you and yet here you are begging for my cock." You laughed amusedly at the absurdity of the situation, making the poor man pout. "S'not fair you're so big that I wanna feel you in my guts."

Okay, Maybe you'd keep him as your slut instead with how desperate he was. Slender legs wrapping around your waist coaxing you to just fuck and claim him already.

"You're playing a dangerous game here, sweetheart." You growled through the cheap plastic of your mask, reaching down to push your thick fingers between Satoru's lips, his tongue instantly swirling around the thick digits getting them nice and wet as his gaze never left yours.

God, He was a filthy little thing, and you couldn't help but notice the way his hole clenched around nothing every time your free hand trailed the knife's blade teasingly against his inner thigh. Satoru pulled away from your fingers with a wet pop, glaring up at you through thick eyelashes. "Just put it in already." He growled impatiently, and you only responded by pressing the blade harder against his skin, the tip of the knife threatening to dig into his flesh.

Satoru only gulped in response at the action, a shiver running up his spine feeling the cold metal of your knife kissing his thigh. "Okay, okay— calm down." He tried to laugh off his insistent whining with a practiced grin however, you could see the lingering traces of fear swirling in those blue eyes. "Just be patient, doll." You murmured raspily, spreading the lube you had used earlier to finger his sweet little hole open with your thick fingers around his twitching rim.

You couldn't help but notice the way Satoru threw his head back against the pillows, his bruised chest heaving as you rubbed his lubed entrance messily. He was so sensitive. So easy to break. And the thought of splitting him open on your fat cock made it jut against his thigh with aching need.

Wasting no more time, you aligned the fat head of your cock in front of his wet hole before thrusting in with one brutal snap of your hips. Satoru's eyes widened impossibly, his hands scrambling to grip the headboard as a high pitched scream ripped past his throat.

"Fuck—! S..So big—!" He mewled, moving his hips in sync with the way you jackhammered into him like a cheap fleshlight. Satoru wrapped his legs around your waist weakly, trying to anchor himself with the way your fat cock battered his prostate— And as his screams and the wet squelch of skin against skin filled the room, the white haired man could slowly feel his brain melting with searing hot pleasure.

"Take it." You growled possessively, continuing to rut into his ass like a beast in rut, angling your hips to reach deeper inside of his hole. "D'you like that, doll? You've been beggin' for this all night."

Satoru could only nod frantically in response, his brain too mushy to form any coherent words. You could see a white creamy ring of cum forming at the base of your cock, the sight only fuelling you to pound your willing little victim until he passed out, still impaled on your unrelenting length.

"'S too much..!" He squealed, arching his back as your cock drilled in harder, rearranging his insides until they were moulded to fit your big cock. "Can't take it—! 'M-M gonna die..!" With a loud cry, his body started convulsing in your hold, trying to squirm away from the brutal onslaught of your merciless thrusts.

"Don't chicken out on me now, doll." You warned lowly, now pressing the cold edge of your knife against his throat, each thrust driving the blade closer to his jugular. "We have a long night ahead of us."

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hoshigray · 5 months ago

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꯳⃘꤫⃛✿ contents: Toji + Nanami x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - oral (m! + f! receiving) - face-fucking + sitting - clitoral play - double penetration; anal & penetration - reverse cowgirl + missionary (fusion?) dp positions - spitting - pet names (baby, mama, princess, pumpkin, sweetpea) - mention of drool/spit and tears.

Nothing beats the feeling of your husbands, Nanami and Toji, taking turns spoiling you rotten. Nothing but utterly raw skin-to-skin action with the two hands and sweat cascading on every skin of your body left untouched, and your lips barely keep your moans locked to your throat. The neighborhood may be sound asleep, yet that atmosphere is entirely different within the heat of this master bedroom.

Your face is glued to Nanami as he kisses you, pillowy lips taste his old, favorite scotch, same with the tongue flaying around with yours until he sucks on it to have you mewl so alluringly. “Mmm…hey, sweetpea.” He coos with his half-lidded mocha gaze warming you, straightening his posture on his knees as the glans of his cock meet your lips. And your mouth instantly waters as you suck him in with hallowed cheeks.

Meanwhile, Toji sits right underneath you, his face buried in between your thighs, scarred lips peppering your wetness with slow, lazy kisses that have you whimpering on Nanami’s shaft. The older man’s tongue burrows between your folds, groaning at the sense of you on his tastebuds, slurping anything and everything the muscle can get. And his nose bumps onto your clit, your muffled shrill music to his ears. “Fuck, mama, smell so good…taste too fucking good…”

So fucking sticky — that’s how you’re feeling at this moment. Your lips were coated with your spit, pooling over and painting around the blonde’s shaft. This pace of his hips quickens with haste, speed growing to where he gives in and fucks your face. Wails are muffled, and you submit to him with every hit to the back of your throat. God, he looks so disarranged, his golden locks not kept in their tidy form, sweat gleaming from the ceiling lights, and chocolate eyes scanning your face stuffed with his cock. He titters, watching you suck him off so eagerly, and rewards you with more ruts to spill your saliva down to your chin.

Jesus fucking Christ, Toji’s moans as he eats you from below are to die for, feeling his voice of pleasure reverberate from your insides. The raven-headed man has no desire to let you go, his firm hands on your thighs to keep you on him. “Oh, don’t do that,” he licks your clit sluggishly after pulling you back onto his tongue. “No runnin’ ‘way fr’m me, princess…” Your lower half can’t help but motion to ride on his muscle, and your husband contentedly sucks your labia until you shudder.

There’s too much going on at once – your lips are puffy and hot from the hits of Nanami’s pelvis drilling into your mouth, while Toji has your legs trembling with a mere flick of his tongue, evoking screams that are felt on Nanami’s cock. “Mmmff, mmph!” Shit, this is too much! Your head pounds because of the fair-haired one, and the dark-haired other makes your eyes crawl upwards. I’m gonna cum…!

“Haahh, ohhh, ohhhhshiiiit, I’m gonna cummm!”

“Hnnffuuck, I can tell…! Squeezing my dick like crazy, pumpkin…”

Your legs wrap around Nanami’s waist as he rocks into you. As the hour goes on, your body goes numb to the overstimulating sensations your husbands bestow on you — so drunk off them using their little wife like a fucktoy. Your swollen cunt, full of Toji’s semen and your wetness, is now being pumped by Nanami’s dick. Pistoning his length until his balls profound, excess substances seep down to the crevice of your ass. All the while, Toji is under you, his girth stuffing your asshole.

“Fuck, so tight,” Nanami curses, strands of his hair now stick to his forehead. “Trying to milk me dry, baby?”

“Heh, they’re doin’ the same here,” Toji snaps his hips concurrently with the other husband, rushed dicks brushing your walls too good you gasp. “Hm, ya want me to fill this nice ass of y’rs, too, baby? Bust my whole load like I did to y’r pussy?” He sneers at the twitch of your ass puckering, embarrassed to hear his words, yet your body can’t suppress the excitement. “Well, at least your body is honest enough; so needy for y’r husbands’ cocks, huh.”

You turn your face away from his. “Don’t say—ohoo!–say…”

A hand from your fondled chest comes up to snatch your chin. “Heh, what’re ya shy fr’?” Toji kisses and chews on your bottom lip until you whimper, shoving and exchanging tongues with blissful moans. It isn’t long before Nanami bends down to peck your cheek, claiming your lips immediately after Toji lets go.

“Hey, sweetpea, open for me.” Words you follow, your mouth opening for him to spit, drool falling gracefully down from one tongue to another before Nanami slams his face into yours, the rhythm of his hips increasing from the sound of your yelps being taken by his mouth.

Nanami kisses you passionately, hot air puffing from brushed noses and lips smacking, and Toji whistles at the sight. “Hot as hell…” Toji lays his lips on your neck and cheeks as his hands keep groping your chest, rutting up to your ass aimlessly, along with the blonde’s cadence.

Once again, senses are pulled into overdrive. Your body and nerves are too sore and keen from constant pleasure, tears threatening to streak from your eyes as Toji sneaks two fingers to please your clitoris. Wailing aloud into your husband’s mouth, you succumb to the climb of your crescendo, and it rattles your frame to the core. Both holes contract with each hit of your orgasm, causing the men to groan merrily and lock into your climax until tranquility. A few more rough thrusts to your clamping entrances, and they soon fall into their respective orgasm.

Nanami breaks away from the kiss, spit breaking the connection while he removes his dick from you, and the spurt of his semen falling out with it, trailing from your hole and spilling to your ass still plunged with Toji. “Ahhh, you’re a mess,” he comments with a smile, rubbing your cheeks.

And Toji sniggers in agreement. “Don’t hear ‘em complaining, though,” he brings your face to his to kiss. “Right, mama?”

You sigh into his lips with a simper. And as warm bodies and sticky skin relax and cool down, nothing beats the feeling of being spoiled by your husbands.

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