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seelestia · 3 days

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✧ the gambler and his knight.

aventurine can't stand having his outfit exposed to the elements nor to the rude hands of clients that won't cooperate – luckily for him, he has you to take care of it all. { aventurine with a bodyguard!reader. }

⎯ fluff & angst. 2.9k wc. headcanons w/ some written scenes. the plot is vv subtle but it's there a.k.a aventurine simps for you (jokingly) but you both end up catching feelings (not jokingly). mentions of violence, death & russian roulette. pre-penacony timeline. a self-indulgent piece to celebrate this blog's 2nd anniv! ★

★ 〜 masterlist.

aventurine who graciously welcomes you under his employment with a game. just a little something to ease your nerves and get you used to his ways. you look at him with such incredulity as if he just fell and hit his head silly. he pays no mind to this – finds it to be amusing a great deal, actually. keep it up, newcomer!

“heads or tails?” he asks, flipping a coin in the air and catching it seamlessly. a routine for him, you would've figured from the sight. “that's. . . an odd way of saying hello,” you point out but your tone bears no hint of protest. he notices that.

“i've heard that one before,” aventurine tilts his head with a smile, nonchalant. “so what's your guess?”

“tails,” you reply without any delay. it's a mindless answer; getting it wrong this way would prove to bear less disappointment compared to putting actual thought in it. “heads for me then,” he whistles.

aventurine opens his palm. it's heads. you frown as if to suspect foul play—but you don't because you know about his notoriously good luck—and your new boss chuckles, almost placatingly.

“looks like i win,” he grins without a care in the world at all. “aren't you starving? let's fetch ourselves a meal, friend.”

a loss rewarded with a prize? you blink. with grace so in contrast to the whiplash you feel, aventurine walks past you with a trail of expensive perfume in his wake. obviously, he expects you to follow and you do after a moment's reluctance.

(this guy is more confusing than the stellaron.)

aventurine who grows quite fond of seeing you acquiesce to his wishes, whether serious or trivial. could you ward off those reporters? could you pour him a drink? could you play a game of poker with him? could you join him for lunch? you're always so professional that he starts to find some mirth in pushing your buttons (never too much). unlucky for you, he does it to be affectionate and lucky for him, you always say yes even if you roll your eyes every single time.

aventurine who trusts you with his credit card. . . to a worrying degree. when asked if he's sure about this, he just waves it off and says it'll be safer in your hands. seriously, this card has been in your possession longer than it's ever been in his. sometimes, he does ask for it back – only to drop some 200k credits to your account. “a tip for doing a good job,” he'd wink casually while you're flabbergasted beyond belief.

aventurine who finds it extremely attractive whenever you step in to protect him from harm. dealing with uncooperative clients is a day in his life, yet some are so brutish they resort to getting physical – but he has you to make sure their hands stay off him. a gun in his direction? knocked off before the trigger even has a chance to get pulled. reaching out to grab him by the collar? they're already on the ground, your foot threateningly pressed on their back as a warning. what a dashing sight – and thanks to you, his pristine outfit has been saved more times than he could count at this point.

aventurine who likes to call you his “knight in shining armor” teasingly. awh, you don't like it? he thinks you're more than deserving of that title with the way you always swoop in to get him out of trouble. if the thousands of credits he gives you aren't enough yet, won't a cute title suffice? “it sounds corny,” you tell him with a grimace—and maybe, yes—but he just chirps coyly, “dunno. i think it's fitting.”

aventurine who makes it his responsibility to check on you after a rough mission. credits are no problem, he'd even reserve the most expensive private doctor in the cosmos if that means you'll recover faster. sadly, he has little to no medical skills – so the most he can offer you is bandages. sure, you can take a bullet to the stomach and handle a punch or two, that's your job, but what about tiny scratches? . . .don't tell him you're about to reject his kind offer.

“what's your favorite color?” he queries, somewhat out of the blue considering the situation where he is helping you tend to a minor cut on your finger. you raise an eyebrow, “why do you wanna know?” as he gently plasters a plain-colored bandage on your skin (which he's only been granted permission to after minutes of begging you to let him do it).

“for the bandages,” aventurine answers. he finds no need to hide his intentions as he runs a thumb over the bandage, softly as to not hurt you, to keep its position secure. “so that the next time you ask, i'll have some in your favorite color for sure.”

“how. . . thoughtful of you,” you snort, amused.

(briefly, he resists the urge to ask if he can place a kiss on your cut for 'luck'. but if he does, you might have his head. so, he'll try another time.)

aventurine who slowly begins to find a sense of comfort in your company. maybe, it's the way you scoff at his quips with a smile or the way you always tell him to be careful. maybe, it's the way you take him seriously or the way you stay by his side—is your job description the only reason why?—or maybe, he's just pathetic and reeks of so much loneliness you feel sympathetic. he can't tell, but he hopes the luxuries he has can persuade you to stay just a little longer. even if you don't actually care. (you do.)

aventurine who notices how anxiety brims in your gaze when you watch him gamble at the table – with a sum too high to be considered sane and sometimes, his own life. he can see it all; how your hands shake as if you want to reach out, how your lips tremble as if you want to tell him to stop. but this is what he's made for, is it not? he'll survive one way or another. . . until fate decides the bill for all his past good fortune is finally due. and when the time comes, he'll be ready for it. (will you?)

a game of russian roulette.

it always starts with thrills only to end with carnage spilled all over the table. luck is the only thing worth praying for at that point and oh, is luck not the dearest friend aventurine ever had? hence the reason why he always agrees, not with a yes but with a “why not?”.

you're there as his protector yet, utterly condemned to the role of a witness as soon as aventurine nods along to that darned game. panic rushes through your veins as the gun is passed around so relaxedly, so easily with laughter all around. aventurine's next in line, you realize grimly. the next decision that comes after is spontaneous, so different from your usual calculated nature – you drag him out of the casino in a frenzy before the weapon even lands in his hand. in your head, there is no other thought louder than: he could've died.

“a shame i didn't get to the fun part,” you hear him hum from behind you, too disturbingly calm for your liking. the bustling noises inside the establishment have all but faded into the background. “that was close, hm?” he laughs, a sound you would've found endearing if this was another occasion. any occasion that doesn't involve teetering dangerously on the precipice of death.

you stop in your tracks and aventurine, behind you, naturally follows. your silence is something he first takes note of and the way your hand shakes as it holds his is the second. you still haven't let go. what's going through your mind? he calls out your name softly, perplexed at your lack of explanation.

“. . .why did you say yes?” you respond with a bitter question. “you could've died. you almost died,” you try to hold back a shout – yet, your words are spat in such a fusillade he feels a seed of guilt starting to bloom inside his lifeless heart. he discards it in favor of putting on a frivolous smile.

“oh, relax,” he lets out a chuckle, one that sounds so ignorant of the taut tension in the air. “it's just some russian roulette. why so serious?” he shrugs as if to physically brush off any seriousness clinging to his figure. his remark gives off the assumption that every single hint of your worry has flown over his head.

“it is serious. . .” you bite your bottom lip. he sneers in return, “yeah? since when?” as if to challenge you to give an actual answer. his life is full of risks, to say otherwise would be a lie. “you're sweet for worrying but you don't actually care about me that much, do you?” he snickers to himself. like the thought of your caring about him can't possibly be true, like it's all just a terrible joke.

but he's the only one laughing.

aventurine falls quiet and finally, genuinely meets your gaze for the first time that night. he doesn't like what he sees. your lips are downturned, unamused and saddened—you do care, a realization that has been left unsaid—and all remainders of levity in him are replaced by immediate dread. it only now registers that the anger, concern, frustration on your face is for him; they're the unavoidable consequences from caring about him.

(his eyes widen. no, no, no.)

“c'mon, you—” he covers it up with a carefree smile, as feigned as it came. he shoves his hand in one of his pockets. it's shaking. “. . .worry too much. you've seen me play a handful of games before. i've never lost a wager, remember?”

you don't look convinced at all. in fact, you look as if you've arrived at the brink of seething. “and if you do? for once in your life, you lose?” you prod him for more. for something, for anything – perhaps, for a promise that he won't do it again.

(but you know aventurine, you know there would be no such promise.)

“then i lose,” he says, final and resigned. “there's really nothing else to it,” he tries to offer you another smile but it didn't quite reach his eyes. “hey. at least, you'll be there to witness my spectacular fall, right? it'll be a show to remember.”

he nearly doesn't manage to keep up the façade. it's already as precarious as it can be. you don't reply to him this time – instead, you let go of his hand to wipe at your cheeks. his gaze trails after your fingers and it freezes upon seeing the pearly tears falling free from your eyes.

aventurine has never seen you cry before. you're always so stone-faced, so hard to break that he recalls almost cheering when he heard you laugh for the first time. that was when you finally won a round of poker against him. a pity, he would've reminisced about the memory more. . . if only the matter of losing and winning a game isn't as serious as it is now.

“don't say that,” you mutter, harshly wiping away at the incessant tears pouring from your eyes more than you'd ever allow them to. some make their way into your mouth, they taste just as bitter as your current frustration. does he truly value his life so little? you can't fathom it, you can't fathom him at all.

but there is one thing you were certain of, at the very least: “you hired me to protect you,” you shake your head unrelentingly, “so i'll do it. until you throw me away, i won't let you die.”

you've stopped crying then. aventurine feels remorse; the tears that you shed because of him are starting to dry. the selfish part of him wants to reach out and brush them away with his thumb – but would you let him? would this lead you further down the rabbit hole that is him? in the end, he decides against it.

“. . .i'm sorry,” he sighs instead, raking a hand through his messy blond hair. whatever it is he is apologizing for, he doesn't have a clue either. he lets his eyes slip shut. he can't bear to look at you, can't bear to look at his pitiful reflection in your eyes.

(he's not worth caring about, can't you see? he dances hand in hand with death – there is no need to subject yourself to being a spectator.)

the two of you then part ways that night with shallow pleasantries on your tongues. no inside jokes, no evident yearning for the other to stay, no more than an awkward exchange of “i'll see you tomorrow.”

on his way 'home', regret and relief clash to form something inexplicably hollow inside kakavasha's chest. he wanted to wipe away your tears—what a regret—but if he did, they would've burned on his skin and became another mark to haunt him—what a relief he didn't. and frankly, if destiny is about to reap his debt, he'd rather go with no regrets at all.

whether those regrets include you? he doesn't have an answer just yet.

(the name at the bottom of his contract with fate is signed as kakavasha. but you wouldn't recognize that name. not as him, at least.)

aventurine whose eyes can't flutter close at night ever since thoughts of you fill his mind more than they already do before. you care for him, you want him to live—all his fault, he allowed himself to get too close—but these realizations are rooted in too deep and refuse to leave. what to do, what to do, what to do?

it isn't supposed to turn out like this.

what he and you have is meant to be transactional; he'd be spared from unnecessary scuffles and you'd be compensated with monetary payment. he means to keep it superficially fun; for him to tease you with jests—so you'd stay and save him from the deafening silence in his head—and for you to dismiss him with that adorably annoyed look on your face. just some silly banter, that's it.

so then, since when are there rounds of poker where he'd coo over your frown when you lost? or the sound of your lecturing after he secretly got you a high-end item? or meals shared together where you'd bicker over the bill? or bandages in your favorite color kept inside his bedside table? since when do you start to care? . . .since when does he start to care?

think of something else.

kakavasha tosses and turns in his bed, but the soft pillows and blanket do nothing to quell these bothers of his. are feelings always this complicated? he places a hand over his eyes, tired and exhausted, and stares at the ceiling as if it could provide him with an answer.

but there's no use.

in a moment void of logical thinking, he reaches for his phone and hovers a finger over your name in his contacts. he is usually good friends with bad ideas – but not this time, he sets his phone down and lets out a frustrated sigh that only his expensive pillows are there to hear.

(for gaiathra's sake, he hasn't even told you his real name yet.)

aventurine who becomes awfully distant the next time he sees you. you accompany him to meetings with clients per usual, but it's different. . . he talks to you succinctly, not verbosely with that trademark grin of his. his face is bereft of the things you grow to like seeing on him. a sincere smile instead of one just for show, for example. but even that's difficult to ask for since he only speaks to fill the silence with empty chatter. he doesn't look you in the eyes either; you feel a pang of hurt, you've always loved his eyes.

aventurine who discards all thoughts of you as soon as he steps inside pier point to be assigned a project. a conclave between the stonehearts is a matter of top confidentiality and you, dutifully, are ordered to wait for him outside the office. though, he'll admit; your absence by his side actually does leave a gaping void—such hypocrisy, really—but at least, those pesky voices in his head know how to shut up when it comes to work.

“penacony. . . is diamond finally ready to do something about it?”

aventurine rests his left hand on the small of his back, fiddling with the clubs-shaped detailing on the fabric there. it looks like an act of idleness from afar, but anyone observant enough would know it's a way to subdue whatever nerves he wishes to hide.

he waits for the person in front of him, gazing at the purplish-red sky of pier point at sunset, to speak. for their next words shall mark the start of his next journey in fate's course.

aventurine who hesitates to let you come to penacony with him at first. but it'd be poor reasoning not to, since some might have a bone to pick with him as the corporation's representative. . . and he knows you'll protest to come with anyway. fine then, situationship discomfiture be damned – not even a second after he steps out of the meeting, his neon eyes finally meet yours. “so, how does a trip to penacony sound?” he announces with a confident smile. you blink, noticing how his lips are wobbling at the sides. you don't say no, however. (if only the two of you know what sort of ride you're getting yourselves into.)

— thanks for reading! reblogs with comments are most appreciated. why don't we all sob over this man like it's a cryfest ♡

#hsr x reader #aventurine x reader #—stellaronhvnters.#honkai star rail x reader #aventurine x you #hsr headcanons #hsr imagines #hsr fluff #hsr angst #seelestial.inks #gambler & knight 🎲

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hexxynn · 17 days

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you're my forever | best friend! anakin x fem!reader

word count : 10.2k

warnings : MDNI 18+, anakin and reader are 18, angst, angst, so much angst, self deprecation, reader has a mom named lucille, insecure! reader, modern!, jock! anakin, swearing, anakin worshiping the ground you walk on, reader is described as having a tummy!, praise, even more praise, anakin talks you through it, arguing, readers parents are divorced, pet names, virgin! reader, oral (f receiving), piv, no condom mentioned (wrap it before you tap it!), creampie, aftercare (i think that's all?)

summary : you develop feelings for your long time best friend, anakin. you fall into a pit of bedrot trying to cope and push him away, only for him to push back. what you didn't know is that he felt the same way.

a/n : my first fic ever pls be kind lol, this is my first time writing smut too, so any tips would be appreciated! im lit new to tumblr so please don't be afraid to request anything. also im literally a slut for angsty sex and praise can you tell? also this isn't proofread soz

You didn't know when your feelings had turned from platonic, to overwhelmingly romantic.

Honestly? It was scary.

You had known Anakin for a while, him being your neighbor for most of your life. That was, until you moved, but only to downsize after your parents split. The quaint neighborhood, the only thing you had ever known, being torn away from you. Luckily— your parents didn't want to move far, so you stayed put in the same town, just in different neighborhoods.

You were two when you guys met, both of your toddler selves adorned with the aroma of innocence and childhood. Your moms had both bonded, over the struggle of motherhood, while you two seemed to find each other in the purity of your early years. He came up to you, with a simple ask to push him on the swing; an offer you couldn't refuse. Retorting with an, "as long as you push me after," which couldn't help but earn an eager grin from Anakin.

As you two pushed each other, giggles and laughs emerging from the silence of the neighborhood, your mothers had noticed the bond and smiled; knowing their friendship, and the one forming by the swing sets, would go on past this little encounter. They exchanged numbers, beams from ear to ear, knowing they found comfort in each other, and a pal for their children.

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

As time went along, they set up playdates, leaving you two to watch shows, and do little things only young kids would do, whilst they sat on the back porch of your house with a wine glass in hand. You and Anakin would watch silly things, and you would play with his toy cars; in exchange, he'd play dolls with you (no matter how girly it was, or how frustrated he got in his three year old brain).

The neighborhood gossip would flow from their lips. Inside, the sounds of juvenility and jolly would make themselves present in some of your earliest memories. Your moms has been content with the current exchange. The simple call to come over, no matter whose house, with the almost immediate response from the other, and you and Anakin were dragged into their friendship, building one of your own. It worked out nicely.

As you grew up, playdates turned into school, and he was your best friend in elementary. Bus stop hand holding was the cause of teases from the boys (not the girls, who thought it was 'cool' you were able to get a kindergarten boyfriend), eliciting a shrug of nonchalance from Anakin. He would defend you, and go back to the swing sets with you, returning back to your place of blossoming friendship. He didn't care much for what the six year olds had to say, knowing you already for over half of his life. The bond your mothers had created was stuck, and would be for a while.

Once you got to middle school, there was a shift, though. He found his guy friends, understanding the game that adolescents liked to play with jokes and gossip. While he still walked you to the bus stop, he didn't see you as much in school. Especially with the deferring interests you two had grown. You had become a bookworm, immersed in studies as soon as you entered the next phase of your life, while he became athletic and would stay after school to play soccer with the other boys in the field behind school. Nevertheless, he'd come home and his mom would tell him they're going to your house. With no protest— he'd go. He would never turn down seeing you. Without prying eyes and weird looks, he could be himself and return to the faithful friend he'd had for so long. The simplicity and routine created never felt off, even as the times changed. He would always run back to you.

Until High School started. Things changed yet again, messing with the routine you two had created. He didn't walk you, or drive you to school, but would bring you food, smile at you in the halls, and nod his head in the structured environment of school. It was more than middle school. You two still saw each other as much as possible, but hangouts got a lot different. He got into football, and the schedule was rigorous. Yet, you'd still go to his games, cheer him on, and wait until he got home to personally congratulate him. He never even let flings, or girlfriends throughout the years, change his behavior towards you. It had never been explicitly romantic, but you two were closer than most. He'd hold your hand to drag you to his room, and vice versa. He'd let you drape his legs across him on the couch, or let him spin you around in a hug after his games.

He saw you more than middle school, his maturity hitting him slightly. He valued you, and you valued him, and that was one of the first things he'd ever known. This platonic relationship he held with you, was one of the things he cherished most. He wouldn't let anything get between you two, no matter what was to come in the future. He'd never let you go.

You on the other hand, immersed in studies and prepping for college, had turned a lot of hangouts into study dates. Which was okay with him, as long as you two got to see each other. He'd lounge in your room while you sat at your desk with a textbook and computer. He'd bring you food when your mom called that dinner was ready, knowing your academics had pulled you away from reality. His nurturing nature stayed the same.

You two had both gotten into different colleges, across the state. He got a football scholarship, and you got an academic scholarship at a prestigious college on the west side. You knew what was to come as the summer after senior year approached.

What you didn't know was to come, was your feelings towards him.

You didn't know when your hand holding started making your tummy flutter, or when his hands tracing patterns on your calves had you feeling flustered. Sure, he changed a lot in High School. He got muscular, grew his hair out, had more charm and appeal. He had girls swooning. But you? You never expected to be one of those girls.

Coming to terms with your feelings was definitely a task.

At first, it was jealousy. Jealousy towards the girls who were able to openly fawn over him, with Anakin relishing in the attention they bestowed on him. He loved living in this spotlight, and the rush he got when girls would whisper and giggle sentiments about him. He adored all of the looks and the eye fucks he would get in the halls. It was an ego boost.

You wished so terribly you could be one of those girls. The ones he'd kiss after his games, the ones who went out with him on Friday nights. You just weren't that girl.

Sophomore year came with heated jealousy, and Junior year came with longing. Senior year, you slowly came to terms with it. It wasn't until after graduation, when you relished in all the attention he would give you on summer days, that you fully realized what you were feeling. You had never had a boyfriend throughout all your years, academics taking priority over any man.

The beginning of summer was torture.

He was mindful of his last couple of months with you, giving you his full, undivided attention.

And you fucking loved it.

At the same time though, you hated it. The torment of the sudden affection you received, along with an endless stream of texts and calls when you two couldn't be together. It made your feelings all the more real, and you couldn't do it any longer.

You were then slowly trying to distance yourself, for your own sanity, to protect your feelings and soften the blow of college. You were frustrated, angry, and hurt all at the same time. It wasn't his fault, but your brain blamed him for all of it. You were starting to resent him, and hole up in your room, only coming out for meals and water. It had been this way for about a week now, in the middle of June, and the contrast from this to the way you were two weeks before was startling. Especially to Anakin.

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Your mom, Lucille, was standing on her back porch per usual, pacing around her best friend, also known as Anakin's mom. Though she was across town, it wasn't far. A mere ten minute drive at most.

"I just don't know what's gotten into her, you know? One minute she's going out almost every day with Ani, the next she's- she's- god!"

Lucille was very annoyed, to say the least. The state she had found you in was worrying her, and her financial situation with college didn't assist in her anxiety.

"Did something happen between her and Ani?" Lucille pondered, quirking a brow up inquisitively at her friend, sighing. "Not that I know of. In fact, he's been asking about her," Shmi sighed heavily. "She might just be stressed about university, you know?"

"I know... but she normally comes to me about these things, Shmi! And now she's this void," Lucille sat down, wine sloshing in the glass.

Shmi rubbed her back, smiling softly. "Just be patient, Lucy, maybe try to have a heart to heart with her? Sit down with her," Shmi pondered.

"Yeah... yeah, sure. I'll do that," Lucille returned the soft expression Shmi reflected onto her, letting out a huff. "Can you come by tomorrow morning? I'll keep you updated," she asked, while Shmi rubbed her back.

"Of course. I'll head home, love you," Shmi replied, standing up and walking into the cool air of the house, watching the moonlight cast the house in a low glow. The hardwood floors leading to the front door were bleached from the sun, it's constant rays hitting the floor from the many windows in the home.

"Love you, too," Lucille wrapped her friend in a hug, wishing her off. "What to do," she looked at her feet, shutting and locking the door, heading upstairs to talk to you.

She heard soft music coming from your room, probably from the speaker Anakin had gifted you Junior year. She recognized the soft hum of your voice, and Lucille was then unsure if she wanted to disturb your peace. But, she knew it was for the better.

A soft knock resonated in the empty hallway, and she heard your hums stop, followed by your music. Your footsteps could be heard trekking to the door, that once opened, revealed darkness in your face.

Your bags were heavy, face devoid of any feeling as you tilted your head to the side, "Hey, what's up?" You muttered, avoiding eye contact with your mother.

"Can I come in?" Your mom requested, analyzing every feature you once held. It was sad, depressing, and a mess all in one. You straightened your spine, opening your door wider and flicking on the light. With no words, you sat on your bed, the white comforter all messy and tangled in an array of clothes; unfolded laundry you were too tired to do.

Your mother sat next to you, placing a hand on your back. "Is everything okay?"

"Mhm, why do you ask?" You force a smile, nodding your head. Your appearance spoke much differently though, along with the state of your bedroom. Your hair in a messy updo, and your clothes scattered around the carpet. Spandex and an oversized tee adorned your figure, hiding the body you once loved to dress up with random articles of clothing, a uniqueness reflected in your personality onto your style.

This wasn't you.

"You've been in your room for a few days now, what happened to your summer plans? The job you were looking for?" Lucille removed her hand, placing her cheek in her hand.

You again avoided eye contact, looking to your window. "I'm just tired, Mama," you replied in a hushed tone, chewing on your already scabbed lip.

"I know, hon, I know. But we're all worried. Me, Shmi, Anakin-"

At the mention of his name, you dropped your head again. Deep down, you knew it wasn't fair to anyone. But you couldn't help it. You'd rather put up your walls before letting yourself get hurt with a stupid crush. "It's okay, I promise," you again put up a facade.

"Is it me? Did I do something?" Your mother started to tear up, placing a hand on her chest. The last thing she'd ever want to do is hurt you. She had never seen this from you before, though.

You finally made eye contact, shaking your head rigorously. "No, of course not. I just need to sleep," you scrunched your nose, trying not to let the tears fall yourself.

"Okay... but if you need anything I'm here, alright?" Lucille stood up then, making her way out the door, shutting off the light on her way out.

In the absence of another person, you felt yourself rotting in self deprecation all over again. The mention of Anakin just hurt you all the more. You hated doing this, you really did, but crying for hours on end seemed to help, even in the slightest.

So, you sat back in your mess of sheets and blankets, music starting up again, as you scrolled through photos of you and Anakin over the years. Even looking at photos of him with girlfriends, his smile brighter than ever. Kisses on cheeks, arms around them in photos. A reminder of something you could never be to him. A hole was making its way into your heart, one that only he could fill, and you were devoid of any reciprocation to your feelings.

But, back at the Skywalker's residence, Shmi had come home, setting her keys on the rack, and plopping down on the couch with a soft thud. Even she was confused and frustrated, thinking of you as one of her own.

At the sound of the door opening, and footsteps, Anakin came tumbling down the stairs, excited to see his mom after a long day of work, knowing she went to your house immediately after her shift.

She perked up at the noise, laying back and turning on the TV. "Hello, Ani," she yelled to the hallway, as he came walking towards the living room.

"Hey, Mom! How was your day?" He asked, setting himself next to Shmi, leaning back in the cushions. His hair was damp from a shower, clad in a black tee and plaid pants.

"It was good, stopped by Lucille's after work," she muttered, with him letting out a chuckle in response. "Assumed so, it's around ten— you're normally not out this late unless it's Lucille's," he nodded. "Did you see Y/N?" He then asked, turning his head to face Shmi.

"No... I didn't. Have you heard from her at all?" Shmi frowned, watching him shake his head and loll it back on the couch, a sigh escaping his lips. "No, I haven't. I'm worried, you know? Did I do something?" He asked, looking for some sort of answer. Your absence was sudden, and no matter how many times he'd call or text, you wouldn't respond. Your location stayed the same as well, the icon staying on your house, so he knew you weren't busy. He didn't want to intrude though, and push boundaries, but he truly had no idea what was going on with you. And it hurt him.

"I don't think so, she's avoiding Lucy as well," Shmi looked at her son quickly while she channel surfed, finding something to hopefully fall asleep to on the plush tan cushions.

Anakin sighed, standing up. "Tell Lucille I'll be over tomorrow, okay? I'll see if I can figure it out, might be too personal to tell her mom about," Anakin assured Shmi, standing up to make his way up the stairs.

"Okay," Shmi replied simply, feeling sleep overtake her soon enough.

Anakin, though, made his way up the stairs, racing to his phone. He pulled up your contact again, pressing the call button, and listening to the same ringing tone that he's heard for the past week bounce off of the walls of his room.

He sighed when it hit your voicemail, the sound of your once cheery self beginning to speak. He hadn't heard your voice in so long, it ached and left him confused. "Tomorrow," he told himself.

He'd see you tomorrow, no matter what it took.

Tomorrow didn't come soon enough, though, leaving Anakin tossing and turning in his sleep. He was so, so tired, so worried, and so anxious about what would happen. He had no idea if he had done something wrong, his brain relentlessly bullying him with 'what if's'. He kept waking up in cold sweats, eyebrows furrowed with concern for you. He cherished you like a lifeline, and he felt like he was slipping away as you did from him. When morning came, he had bags under his eyes, and his hair was tousled with the constant running of his hands through his hair throughout the night. He didn't know what if it went wrong today, or if you gave no response and shut yourself off.

He didn't even eat, too sick to his stomach to do so, waving a small, "bye," to his mother before slipping into his car, and Shmi had sent a text to Lucille as he left.

Shmi

He's on the way.

Lucy

Alright, she's awake. Ty for sending him over 😘

Shmi

Anytime. Want to come over while they talk, give them a little space?

Lucy

On my way.

And with that, Lucille had left her own home, knocking on your door and letting you know where she was going. You had hummed in response, getting into the shower, preparing to repeat the cycle of bed-rot you had created in the recent days.

The water soothed you, hot streams battering on your back as you sunk into the tiled floor. The speaker still let out hushed instrumentals and lyrics of your playlist, allowing you to wallow in your feelings. Not even washing your hair, or your body, you simply laid there. Tears were scarce at this point, not able to flow down your cheeks, as you looked at yourself in your naked state.

You doubted Anakin could ever, ever, love something like this in the way you loved him.

It was honestly sickening, in your opinion, how you destroyed yourself over him. Promises to him left unkept, and your friendship flowed down the drain, following the stream of the water. The sad, angry music you hummed along to only allowed for your wallowing to fester into an ugly knot in your stomach.

Some Phoebe Bridgers lyric had you leaning on the wall, closing your eyes. Too many years wasted. Too many tears shed over Anakin.

As the song was reaching its peak, you were oblivious to the sleek, black jeep that pulled into your driveway. Your room perched in the back of the house, anyway, so it was hard to hear over the shower and the music, along with your own humming. You were unaware of the unlocking of your front door, which Anakin had a key to, and the sound of his footsteps bustling up the stairs of your home. Which would have been bad, had it been an intruder, but it was just your good ol' Anakin.

As he made his way up the stairs, he heard the music in the shower, and the sound of your voice, the murmurs of lyrics you sang along to. He also heard the familiar pattering of your bathroom, having also showered here one too many times after games. Your bathroom was attached to your room, and he didn't want to disrupt, so he simply opened your door and sat on your bed.

When he walked in though, he was shocked. Your entire safe space was in disarray, a mirror of your emotions. If there was one thing about you, though, it was that you were a tad bit messy, but never this bad. He frowned at the thought, and decided to lay back on your messy bed, pulling out his phone to check the time. You should be out soon right?

But as fifteen minutes passed, he was getting impatient. He strolled up to your door, knocking softly.

"Mom, I thought you were at Shmi's?" Your voice was raspy, and quieter than normal, a pang resonating in his heart.

"It's me," he softly said, hand on the door.

You were struck with shock, sitting up immediately, feeling guilty and overwhelmed suddenly.

"I'm busy, come back later?" You pleaded, hoping to avoid him. But if anything, Anakin was persistent, and when he says he's doing to do something, he'll do it. Your brain had hoped silently that he'd take it, making his way out, so you wouldn't have to face him.

He shook his head, "No. We need to talk, now. Are you almost done?" he inquired, leaning his side on the door now, dragging his fingertips over the ridges of the wooden door. You didn't respond, and he didn't hear any movement, so he continued to press. "I swear to God, Y/N, I'll come in there if I have to."

Fear struck your veins, and you stayed silent, hoping he'd go away. "We can talk later, I'm busy," you simply replied, shaking your head at his perseverance. You always adored that about him, but now was a bad time for him to do so. Now, you wanted him gone. He was no longer your sanctuary, but a cause of fear and pain to you. Knowing him, though, he wouldn't stop.

And you were right.

You heard the handle jiggle a little bit, before a groan was let out behind the door. "There is no need to lock the door in your own home," he sighed, turning back to your room. A bobby pin should work, right?

"It's to prevent people from coming in, y'know, like you're trying to do," you rolled your eyes and scoffed, borders and walls making their way back up. You heard his footsteps walking away from the door, letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding. One obstacle down, right?

But then, you heard the jiggling of the doorknob again, and the click of the lock, and a sense of alarm surged through your veins. "I'm coming in," he announced sternly, before you heard the creak of your bathroom door opening. He had successfully found your bobby pins littered around your vanity, from various updo's you'd style your hair with during school. For a second, he was glad for the mess, which allowed him to find it so easily.

"I'm naked!" You screeched, though the shower curtain covered anything he could possibly see.

He chuckled, scoffing, "I've seen you before," he sarcastically uttered, hands finding purchase on the counter behind him, facing the curtain. The only barrier between you and him in the current moment.

"Yeah, when we were four, asshole," you shot back defensively, groaning at his antics. You still continued to attempt to avoid him, dragging out your shower for as long as possible.

Anakin grabbed the towel off of the seat, reaching into the curtain to shut the water off. "Get out," he demanded, "or I will personally come in there and wrap you in the towel myself," his aggression didn't go unnoticed, knowing now that something was definitely wrong between you and him.

"Fuck, fine," you sneered, standing up and reaching out for your towel, which he handed to you through the curtain. You stood up, wrapping yourself, and peeking through the curtain. Shit, he still looked as beautiful as ever. Even more than the photos you would look at while letting sobs escape your lips. He wore a white ribbed tank top, paired with gray sweatpants, hung low on his hips. He looked like a mess himself, curly hair frayed at his neck, sticking to the skin from the steam.

He raised a brow, looking away in respect for you. "Go get changed, I'll wait here," he muttered, allowing you to be at least respectable before he confronted you. As a result, you zoomed past him, quickly grabbing a pair of drawstring shorts and a hoodie, knowing you wouldn't have to waste time on a bra if you were in something baggier. After slipping into your clothes in your closet, you opened up the bathroom door again, and he followed you forward to the center of your room.

He eyed you up and down, finally taking in your features and your state. Though your hair was dripping wet, he didn't miss the puffy circles around your eyes and the split lip you often had when you worried about something too much. His face softened, ever so slightly, as you sat on the bed in front of him, while he continued to stand in front of your figure.

He broke the silence as soon as you sat, "Y/N..." Anakin muttered, folding his hands across his chest in front of you. You gulped, picking at the strings hanging loose from your shorts, "what's so important that you had to interrupt my shower for?"

"You act like you were doing something important. You've been ignoring everyone for days now," he began, eyeing you up and down as you fidgeted and avoided his eyes. Those damn eyes.

"I was, I was showering. Hygiene is important, Anakin," you retorted, turning your head to the window on your left.

"You know what I mean," he opened up his stance, running a hand through his hair. You hardly ever called him Anakin anymore, just Ani. The fact that you used his first name sent shivers down his spine.

"What do you mean?" You inquired, acting oblivious, hoping he'd leave and let you go back to your previous state. Though, as mentioned, when Anakin was determined to do something, he'd do it.

He took a step closer to you, peering down, "You've been avoiding me for days now. Everyone, for days now," he pouted slightly. "You promised you'd tell me everything, so what's going on? You know I don't judge," he assured you, getting down to face you, sitting cross legged on the carpet of your room.

"It's nothing, I promise," You said the same thing you've told your mother consistently. "It's nothing," you repeated.

"It's not nothing, if it's got you like this," he tried to smile warmly, show you he was there, to bring comfort, to bring peace to your mind. "Yeah, well, it's not something I'd like to share with you."

Now that stung, a pain radiating in his very bones, your words leaving him stunned momentarily. You shared almost everything with him. Everything that ever stressed you, he'd hug you and distract you until you were a laughing and smiling disaster. You had never been so closed off, so defensive.

Unknowingly, unintentionally, he shot back, "I've given you every piece of me to show you how open I am, and you can't do the same back? What happened to you?"

Venom laced his voice, making you finally face him. It made the blow all the more easier, while it also gave you a heartache you couldn't possibly fathom. "Life happened, Anakin. We're no longer silly teenagers living our lives, we're adults. We're growing apart," you let your arms fall to your sides, helpless to the heat and tension growing between you two.

"We're about to go off to college, and I've been spending every waking moment with you. We didn't just drift, something changed. I'm trying my hardest to be here, you know? Support you, give you a hand, and you won't even open up," he shifted uncomfortably, sensing an argument arising, which has never before occurred between the two of you.

"It's nothing you can help, Anakin. It's out of your control, so leave it be, and get out," you persisted.

"Get out? Get out?" He shot straight up, standing up in front of you, inching closer to your balled up figure facing him. "You don't kick me out of a place that is basically my second home," he raised his voice, causing you to stand up to face him at the same time.

Before you could speak though, he continued his banter, "So you admit something is wrong," he pointed to your chest, jabbing your collarbone while he spoke the words, voice booming out in the silence of your bedroom. Your stance was less defensive now, as he slowly broke down the barrier, and he continued, yet again.

"I told you, it's nothing you can help with," you replied with a hushed, raspy voice, not wanting to bicker.

"Just tell me what it is, then? Is it school? Because while I may not be as smart as you, I have damn well studied for hours on end with you. I have given up movie nights, going out with you, for all of that shit. You're perfectly fine. You're set. You've got a scholarship, and you'll be fine!"

He continued to step closer to you, closing the space ever so slowly, as you shrunk under his words. "If it's your daddy, fine! But I watched the divorce, the split happen. I watched as you were torn between your parents, and held your hand through that!"

"So tell me, Y/N, what is different this time around?"

Your throat was dry, not wanting to respond, everything seeming so stupid now. How were you supposed to admit, right to his face, it was him? Anakin, the one who held you, the one who made you laugh, the one making you cry yourself to sleep.

"Is it boy troubles? Because I haven't seen any man swoop down and carry you in his arms, and I would have heard about it from your mom. You haven't told her shit, either. So it's got to be pressing you, huh? Just let it out!"

He continued his verbal attacks on you, his frustrations from everything being let out on you. You wanted to shrink back, run away, but there was nowhere to go. Your gut was churning, bubbling, as a sob almost escaped your throat. "You wouldn't get it!"

"Yeah, I don't fucking get it because you won't tell anyone what's wrong," he immediately responded, again taking another step closer. You swatted the hand that was on your chest away, pushing him back from the close proximity. He stumbled, catching his balance, before turning to the side and letting out a low chuckle. "I see."

He saw the polaroids of you and him, laying on your nightstand, shaking his head, "It's me, huh? What the hell did I do? Just tell me," he almost begged, yelling at the top of his lungs at this point. You glanced back and let tears finally escape your eyes, sniffling from the flow. He noticed, slightly softening, as you began to yell back, finally breaking the dam.

"It is you, idiot! Everything about you. The way you laugh, the way you smile at girls like they're everything to you, bring them home at night to cuddle and hold them. It's the way you style your hair, and the way you saunter with your huge fucking ego!"

Oh, now he was confused. You despised his guts because of the way he was? Always has been?

"And you know- you know, I wish I was one of those girls! But you've never even looked at me that way, Anakin! That's the issue! That you've been so oblivious to the way I've wanted you, turning around and fucking other girls while I wait at home for your text that you're safe! It's all of it, Anakin," you let out a choked sob in the midst of your sentence, looking him directly in the eyes, "You go around and play football and don't even give me a sideways glance in the stands! It's so, so wrong to feel this way about you, someone I'm just supposed to care about. But no, I fucking love you, Anakin, and it hurts, it hurts so much. You sit and flirt with the cheerleaders in the cafeteria, giving them kisses on their temples and wrapping your arm around them, in public! But I will never, ever, be one of those girls to you. I will always be the best friend. I will never get to feel you longing for me, and never get to feel you loving me the same! That's what's wrong!"

You finished, letting out a huff, and realizing what you had done. Anakin stayed silent, processing your words, mouth open in shock. You were so terrified, yet so relieved that you had let everything out all at once. You knew now that you had crossed a line, broken a border down in your relationship with him. It had turned from sweet, innocent bliss, to rage and despair, mixed with love and fury. You knew you could never come back from this, back from the words that flew out of your mouth. You were desperate for him, and you would worship the ground he walked on if it meant you could receive one backwards glance held with the passion he held for the other women. But you knew you'd never get that, and you'd spend all of your life searching for a person to fill the hole he created in your heart, but never quite filling it up fully. It would be like a bandaid, covering it up temporarily, but the wound would still exist. It would still rot underneath your skin.

"You mean it?" Anakin simply said, words quiet, as he took a step towards you again, looking into what felt like your soul.

"Every goddamn word."

As soon as the curse left your lips, he grabbed you so swiftly, so tenderly, colliding his body with yours as his breath fanned across your lips, waiting for you to say no. You froze instinctively, still coming to terms with the fact that his hand was laid on the small of your back, the other placed on the back of your head, inching you closer. Before you knew it, the feeling of his lips encompassed yours, with unspoken feelings reverberating through the action. You immediately kissed back, gripping his shirt with the arms in front of you, pulling him instinctively closer. He pushed your frame impossibly close to his, wrapping his arm tighter around you, clutching onto the hoodie you wore.

His hand had gripped your sopping wet hair, earning a small noise elicited from your mouth into his, leaving his kiss softening in satisfaction. It was filled with need, hunger, and years of built up frustration. He handled you so softly, as if you would break, tears still streaming down your cheeks. A sob wracked your chest again, causing him to pull away.

"How in the world could you think I could never love you?" He questioned, bringing you into a hug. You continued to clutch his chest, squeezing your eyes shut. He gingerly set you down to sit in front of him, while he kneeled between your legs. His hands were placed on your knees, looking up at you, as if you were a goddess bestowed upon him.

"I'm not them. I'm not the cheerleaders, or the dancers, or the athletes you date. Look at me, Ani," you grabbed onto his hands, squeezing. His expression showed guilt, love, and anger. Anger at himself, for ever making you feel like this. For ever making you feel like you were the second option, and that he could never adore you. Because for years, he has.

"Oh, honey, you are so much more than them," he brought a hand up to cup your cheek. "I have loved you for so long, I can't believe you ever felt this way," he mumbled, kissing your knees after he uttered the sentiment. "You are everything to me."

He wiped the tears off of your cheeks with his hand, raising himself on his knees slightly. "I'm so sorry I ever made you feel that way, because you are my first and forever love."

"You mean it?" You mocked him, your normal attitude coming back to life. He grinned like a cheshire cat, watching you beam back in the midst of tears.

"Every goddamn word," he mocked back, grabbing your hands and placing kisses on them, "you could never compare to any other girl. You are worth so much more to me, I promise. You are my sun and my moon, my stars, I revolve around you. I love you, so much," he praised you, placing one of your hands on his cheek.

You began to cry again, tears of happiness this time, knowing it was okay.

"No, no, don't cry baby, please," he kneeled up, know facing you directly. "You're too pretty to cry."

You shook your head in disbelief, looking down at your lap.

He kisses your forehead, softly, bringing you close to him. "I'm so sorry," he profusely apologized. He left kisses down the side of your face, peppering you, before meeting your lips again, where you wrapped your arms around his neck as he hunched over. He never once disconnected your kiss as he hooked his hands under your thighs, pushing you back on the bed and under him. The kiss grew more needy, more desperate, as his hands rubbed your outer thighs, guiding them to wrap around his waist. As you did so, you pulled him down closer to you, your two bodies moving in sync with love, care, and adoration.

You tugged on his hair, making him grunt softly into your mouth, making you giggle slightly. "What was that, hm?" You mumbled into the kiss. You honestly were lost with what you were doing, your first kiss taking place on the playground at recess, and had never gone as far as to continue kissing someone.

"God— you, Y/N," he pulled away, looking at you from above, the locks of hair falling from his head, caressing his jaw. He scanned your face for any hesitance, any doubts, and in finding none, he leaned back down, caressing your arms in the process.

"Wait, Ani," you stopped him before his lips could meet yours, bringing one hand to trace along his jaw. "I've never done anything like this before," you mumbled, partially out of embarrassment and nervousness. He had then begun to pull away fully, out of respect for you, before you trapped his hips in with your calves, pulling him back down.

"We don't have to do anything, I promise, I don't expect anything from you, nothing— I swear," he promised, grinning at you from above. "I want you to feel as comfortable as possible," he told you, realization hitting him that you most likely had never done anything beyond kissing, and he didn't want to pressure you into anything you wouldn't want.

"No, that's not what I mean. Ani, I want to," you told him, the heat growing between your bodies, his sweatpants and your shorts being a soft barrier between what could occur.

"You want to?" He questioned, anticipation almost hurting him in his core. You were willing to give him one of the most treasured, most vulnerable parts of yourself, to him, and he couldn't quite fathom that.

"Yes. Anakin, I've always wanted to do this with you, since I knew I fell in love," you leaned up to kiss his cheek, then you kissed the shell of his ear, whispering, "let me be yours."

With that, he bent down to kiss you again, gentle hands and tender touches. "I'll be careful, and tell me if you want to stop at any point, okay?"

You nodded, bringing him back down to you, yet again, as the kiss grew heated. His tongue swiped along your bottom lip, allowing you to open your mouth, letting his own wrap around yours and explore your mouth. The feeling itself was sensational, and you wished you had confessed sooner. Your hips bucked up to meet his, knowing only clothing separated you two. You reached down to tug on his shirt, enticing him.

He sat up, ripping his shirt off quickly, and you took the time to admire him. While you had seen it many times throughout the years, you couldn't get enough, knowing this was the man who loved you, who adored you, who pledged himself to you. Your hand traced along his abdomen, and up his chest, with slow circles and movements.

He looked down to you and your hoodie for permission, to which you grew embarrassed and shy. He stopped, again, tracing his hand along your hip, "What's wrong?"

"I'm not wearing a bra, Ani," you muttered with embarrassment, and he looked at you inquisitively at the fact. "Honey, do you know—"

You interrupted him, mid laugh, "Yes, I know, I'm just nervous. My body, and uh—"

You were cut off, almost immediately, with a tut from him. "You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen. I promise," he told you, looking at you as if you'd break with a single touch or glance.

You nodded, beginning to lift your shirt up yourself, before he stopped you, kissing you and setting your wrists down. "Let me show you how much I love you," he told you, so sincerely, that you felt your body heat up and tense.

His fingers found the bottom of the garment, beginning to lift it over your head, as you lifted your arms up for him to slip it off of you.

He could have practically cum at the sight.

He was met with your soft skin, only for him to see, and his sweatpants tightened ever so slightly. Your breasts splayed out, tummy revealed, and it was all for him. Would forever only be for Anakin.

He kissed you again as you held him, trailing pecks down your cheek, and to your neck, where he suckled the skin and nibbled. You whimpered quietly, never having even thinking you could let out anything from kisses.

"You're so, so beautiful. Sculpted by the gods themselves, I swear. If I could worship a statue of you at a temple, I could," he whispered into your collarbone, moving his pecks downward. You became inherently flustered at his words, a garbled mess, until his breath was fanning in between your sternum. His palms found your ribs, inching upward to your breasts, thumb teasing over your nipple. The contact jolted you, overly sensitive and becoming needy for him to make love to you.

"So divine, I swear," he spoke over your nipple, before his mouth latched onto it, suckling like it would be the last thing he ever tasted. Yet, at the same time, it was so pure. Merciful whimpers left your garbled throat, hands tugging on the hair at the nape of his neck.

He switched over to the other breast, the other one being caressed with his saliva coating it, hardening at the contact. He let his teeth drag along the peak, almost teasingly, before kissing the bud and moving downwards.

He moved down to your tummy, kissing all over. His tongue licked a stripe from your sternum to your navel, then kissing the skin above your shorts. "No matter how insecure you are, your tummy is perfect," he mumbled into the skin, teeth gently grazing the skin as he sweet talked into your skin, lust filling his eyes as he made eye contact with you from above him.

"Anakin, I need you," you muttered, not able to hold the eye contact as he sat between your legs, where you needed him most. He smirked, nodding as he did so, "I know, baby, just wanna take my sweet time with you," he spoke, so close to your core, where your desire lingered for him. He could practically taste it as well, bending down lower, his teeth biting on the waistband of the fabric, slowly pulling it down. His other hand met the other hip, assisting in his teasingly slow antics. He shimmied the shorts off, looking back to where you laid underneath him. He adored you, to say the least, and the way you're looking at him as him twitching in his pants. Desire and need are painted all over your expression, as he finally looked down to your panties.

He noticed the damp spot on the gray cotton, his mind going crazy. He did this to you. God, he loved it.

He kissed the wet spot, earning a small noise that strangled it's way out your mouth. Those damn noises to him, would be the death of Anakin himself. He then looked up, "Is this okay?" He questioned, wanting to make sure you were alright more than anything.

"Yes, please, Ani," you begged, watching him then tauntingly pull the fabric down your hips. Before looking, he begins to kiss the inside of your thighs, tongue dragging along the plush of the skin. The freckles and moles and scars, everything, he was taking in as he tasted you. It was perfect to him. You are perfect. He wanted to make sure you knew that as well, his attention switching to the other leg, repeating the same tantalizing licks and nips and kisses, sucking gently as he got closer to your center, leaving light hickeys and eliciting noises from you.

He then made eye contact with where you needed him most, a small sigh of his breath leaving a tingling sensation for you. "All of this, for me? You're too good to me," he spoke, before taking his first lick, a stripe from your entrance to your clit, groaning at the taste of you. "Y'taste so heavenly, honey, please," he begged for nothing, knowing he already had you as putty in his hands. You fell limp as he pressed a damp kiss to your clit, using one hand to pull back your folds for him. You were glistening with desire, leaking onto your sheets. He was disappointed he couldn't take the chance to lick it up off of the sheets, your hole twitching and practically clenching at this point.

He began his attacks on you, slow and steady, trying not to overwhelm you. Moans began to fill the room, letting him know he was doing a good job, only using his tongue at this point. "S'good," you spoke out, and he hummed in response, smiling in his head. All he wants is to make you feel good. This is an apology, devotion, and need all in one.

The vibrations sent shivers up your spine, fingers clutching the sheets beside you. His other hand was keeping your legs apart, the incessant twitching making him rut into the end of the bed. This wasn't about him though, this was about you.

His tongue prodded your entrance, scooping up whatever was leaking out, and he swallowed it graciously. "You're doing so well, my love," he praised. You hummed in response, not being able to form coherent words, even though he was the one with his mouth occupied. The hand spreading your folds twisted, allowing for his thumb to start slow, gentle circles around your clit.

"Is this good? Do you feel good, darling?" He asked, looking up to you as you nodded feverishly, in a haze of love and lust all at once. Your brain was clouded with the pleasure of Anakin between your legs, lapping you up like you were his final meal on death row. His thumb circling your nub, and his tongue swirling around your walls, gummy and slick with his saliva and your desire. He loved every second of it, your squirming and your hips rolling on his mouth, suffocating him in the best way possible.

His thumb began to speed up, and your hands found their way to his hair, pulling him closer and gripping on for dear life. And he hasn't even inserted fingers yet.

The heat between your legs grew stronger, as minutes passed of torturous circles and slow licks and prods, before you begged for him more. "Fingers, something, Ani," you managed to make out some words, jello and oozing into his palms and mouth. He chuckled at your eagerness, now using his hand he was using to hold your legs apart to wrap your legs behind his back, heels digging into the muscular blades of his shoulders. A single digit slowly entered you, curling inside, arching your back off of the sheets. His tongue moved up to your clit, suctioning the bud, and gently nibbling as his finger began a new pace. It was steady, almost leisurely, as he inserted a second finger, scissoring at your entrance. You were so, so tight, and it was heavenly to him. "Ani, faster, please," you commanded, and he damn well listened like an obedient dog, picking up the pace and curling inside of you each time, his thick fingers searching for the spot that would make you see stars. One your own fingers could hardly reach.

As he sped up and became more passionate with it, your legs trembled from overwhelming excitement and anticipation. You felt the knot beginning to form, one you had only reached on your own, while always thinking of this. Your moans became more strangled and raspy, his mouth never leaving his assault on your clit, and his fingers squelching from your wetness between your legs. The smell, the taste, everything was undeniably delicious to him. This was his Y/N, the one he pined after for so long, the girl of his dreams.

Your pussy began to ache, an overwhelming sense of your release approaching. With whatever you could make out, you uttered in a strangled mess, "C-cum, Ani, 'M gonna."

He began to get more aggressive with his suckles, and his eyes looked up to your expression as your breasts shook with every breath you took, head lolled back from the craving you had- no, the need you had for him. He felt your walls clench around him as your release was coming, his eyes never leaving you. "Good girl, I wanna see that pretty face look at me while you cum," he quickly reattached his mouth to you, the words themselves making your orgasm hit you like a trainwreck. Your eyes never left his, though they rolled into the back of your head momentarily. He felt the flutter, and the clenching of your legs around his head as you finished, his mouth licking up the last of you as he finally pulled away. "You did so well, baby. We can stop here if you want," he assured you, licking his fingers clean as he leaned up to cup your face and kiss your neck.

"I want to feel you inside of me," your lips were flush and swollen from the kissing and biting you had done, and your checks were splotched with redness as he nodded. "Fuck, you're so perfect," he guaranteed your utmost comfortability and contentment. "If you're sure."

He began to pull down his boxers and sweats in a swift motion with one hand, the other propping him up so he could kiss your cheeks sweetly and with care. "You're doing amazing."

You grinned and kissed him, tasting yourself on his lips eagerly. Sweat beaded your foreheads, but the mess created never stopped either of you from continuing. He kissed your forehead, then both of your cheeks, before dragging his lips down to the corner of your mouth. He pulled away momentarily, hands reaching down to stretch you with his fingers. You glanced down to below his navel, and holy shit, was he big.

"It'll fit?" You questioned, your naïveté getting the best of you in the moment.

He chuckled, grinning and looking down at you waiting for him. He took a mental picture, analyzing every possible detail of your bare skin, and the way you looked right now. He was infatuated with you before, but this sight under him, left precum leaking from his tip. His fantasies could have never compared to this sight of him between your legs. "Yes, it will. It'll hurt at first, okay? And tell me to slow down or stop at any point, promise?"

You nodded your head eagerly, "I promise," so grateful for the way he was praising and taking care of your needs over his.

He kissed you again, dragging his tip along your folds. The red and swollen cock in front of you had you nearly drooling, but you decided to save that for another point in time.

"Are you ready?" He asked tenderly, kissing along your neck, tapping your clit with the head of his cock. "Yes, please," you chanted over and over again, like a prayer on your lips.

He let out a quiet hum, slowly pressing his tip into your folds. It slowly slipped past your entrance, earning a hiss from between your teeth.

"Are you okay?" Anakin immediately asked, though not pulling out, so he could look you in the eye, his gaze wavering slightly.

"Mhm, just hurts," you felt tears prick the corner of your eyes, and Anakin knows you've never been someone with a high pain tolerance. "Shh, it's okay, I've got you," he comforted you, pressing a small kiss to your lips, waiting for you to nod to continue. It didn't matter that even your entrance was gripping him like a fucking vice, he wanted you to feel as safe and pleasured as possible.

You made eye contact with him, nodding slowly, as he pushed in a little more, your hands finding his biceps, caged around your head, nails digging into his skin and leaving welts. It hurts, but you expected it. And there was nobody else in all the universe you would rather give your virginity to, just Anakin himself.

"You're doing such a great job, taking me so well," he smiled, hoping his voice would bring you a sense of oasis in the middle of his cock piercing through your insides. "Think you can take a little more?"

You nodded, as one hand reached down to press on your thigh, as he felt your pussy clench him so tightly, knowing you were his. Made for him. "Relax, it'll help it hurt less baby, I promise," he told you, rubbing sweet circles on your leg.

He felt your body loosen up, and he was able to bottom out into you, and his tip kissed your walls, a whimper of pain and pleasure entering his mouth from the kiss he gave you. "Good girl," he whispered into your mouth, making sure he was to never break eye contact in this moment. It was so pure, so sinful, and such a precious moment. He was lingering inside of you, movements stilled, no matter how badly he wanted to pound into you until you were crying into the sheets. You bucked your hips up, enticing him to move, and he got the memo.

It wasn't full throttled thrusts, but slow and lazy pumps in and out of you, waiting for the pain to subside. He felt so amazing inside of you, with your warmth and wetness connecting you both. The closest he could ever get to you, and he never thought he would be here. He was savoring every clench, every thrust, and every moment like it would be his last. Because it was you, and he loved you so dearly, he wanted this to be perfect for you.

Your back arched, your pussy twitched around him, all the while he was still slowly going in and out. It was celestial, the way you moaned and let out slurred words of his name, eyes half lidded and already looking fucked out, a devious and wanton expression he'd commit to memory. "Ani," you made out, grabbing the hand on your leg and placing it on your core. He understood, starting to rub spirals under the red and swollen hood of your clit, picking up his pace. Then, the pain has completely subsided, turning into seraphic pleasure, his eyebrows creating a wrinkle as they furrowed. His own pants and grunts left his lips, chest heaving from the bliss he was subdued in. He was immersed in you completely, mentally and physically. You looked so angelic, even godly, as your bodies connected in the most unholy way possible.

He had waited too long for this.

Your warm and inviting, virgin pussy, saved all for him. And now you were underneath him, his cock filling every inch of you, and each time he bottomed out his tip would meet your cervix, but not hard enough to hurt you. He treasured you, wanting the moment to last as long as possible.

"Faster, Ani, I'm okay," you rested your hand on his head, pushing his hair out of his eyes, as he tried so hard to contain himself so you could feel loved for every second of it. He got off on you feeling so cherished under him, and you had never felt more adoration than in the present.

He listened though, picking him his pace, hips snapping so scrumptiously against you. You could hardly moan anymore, and you broke the eye contact, head rolling back and hitting your pillows from the amount of satisfaction you gained. He took the opportunity to look down at where your bodies met, watching his length slide in and out of you, coated in the sticky sweetness of your serene need for him. His eyes glanced over your body, watching as your tits bounced with every jolt of his body, and he almost creamed at the very sight. He was going to wait though, until you came, to ever think of cumming.

"S'well, baby, you feel so good wrapped around me. You're so beautiful, God. I could do this for hours," he praised you, feeling your pussy clench around him at the simple, yet overwhelming words. The way the plush of your thighs jiggled with every little movement, and the way your tummy followed with. He was encompassed in serenity for every second of it.

"M'gonna cum," you mustered out, warning him of your second release, building quicker than the prior one. "Go ahead, my love, whenever you feel like it," he said between pants and grunts, thumb still circling around your clit as he felt you get all the more tighter.

He sped up his pace, shifting his body to the right, the angle directly hitting that spongey spot inside of you that had you seeing stars. Your hands began to dig into his shoulders, the knot tightening. He could tell, watching as your thighs clenched and you let out the most wanton cry of his name, cumming around his cock.

The feeling and satisfaction of you finishing left him close to his own release, pulling your head down to look at him. "'S it okay if- fuck- I cum?"

"Cum in me, Ani, fill me up," you assured him, still whimpering from overstimulation and groaning at the feeling of him fucking your cum back into you.

His breaths were shakier, turning into soft whimpers and groans as you felt his thrusts grow messy, and soon still, feeling a gush of warmth inside of you, filling you to the brim. He stayed there for a moment, sighing as his cock softened, not wanting to pull out and disconnect from you in the most intimate way possible. He knew he had to though, as he pulled out slowly, leaving you feeling empty and lost.

You let out a breath of air, leaning up to kiss him. He happily obliged, rubbing sweet patterns along your hips, tracing the dips and curves with his index finger, soothing you after your release.

He leaned up quickly, making you feel cold, empty, and lost. Was he already leaving?

But no, he came back with a warm washcloth, leaning between your legs again. He came face to face with your cum and his load leaking out of you, beginning to drag wet and sloppy kisses on your knees as he ever so gently wiped up what was leaking out of you, and the mess and sweat off of your thighs. The residue piled along the fabric, which he then wiped his soft cock with, running back to your bathroom to throw it in the hamper. He crawled back into bed with you as you turned over on your side, the room smelling of sex and love.

"I'm so proud of you, you did so well," he told you, wrapping an arm around you and bringing you close to him, so you could lay your head on his chest. His palm rubbed along the small of your back, tracing up your spine.

"Thank you, I don't think I could have asked for someone better to do it with," you smiled, an after sex glow making you all the more beautiful to him.

"Does this mean you're my boyfriend now?" You asked, and a dumbfounded expression was plastered on Anakin's face, causing you to worry momentarily.

"I would assume so, but only if you'll have me," he spoke into your hair, bare and naked bodies intertwined under the cold sheets. "Of course I'll have you," you comforted him, hands tracing the curve of his biceps. "You're my forever, Anakin."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

#anakin skywalker x reader #hayden christensen x reader #modern!anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x female reader #best friend!anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker angst #star wars #hayden christensen smut

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sh1-n0bu · 11 months

Note

yall this is my first time requesting something from someone so im a bit nervous but

imagine overstimulating venti until he cries 🤭

also can i be 🌊 anon ? PLEASE tell me if anything i asked made you uncomfortable!!

♡︎ 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙚𝙢𝙤 𝙜𝙤𝙙’𝙨 𝙙𝙚𝙫𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 ♡︎

characters: sub!venti x nb!dom!reader

warnings: overstimulation, size kink, dacryphillia, reader’s genitals/pronouns are never mentioned so the cock can be interpreted as a strap on

notes: of course you can be 🌊anon! and yes, i’m slowly coming back to life. man author’s block is hard to beat. also, if this get’s flagged by tumblr when i wake up tmrw, i’ll delete it and post it again so don’t get too scared if it’s suddenly gone bbies

venti, or better yet known as barbatos to his people, was never really much of an archon.

he never plays by the rules, governs over his people nor even tries to abide by celestia’s rules. often, the wind spirit simply prefers to lay back and watch as his people takes care of any problems. they’re strong after all, his children always has been. of course, the windborn bard slurs out words of being the anemo archon in his drunk dazed self but no one ever takes it seriously.

and another thing was that, venti never worships the celestia. the floating island in the sky is full of nothing but liars, manipulators and cowards. besides… why would he worship those pathetic things when you’re right here?

why kneel before them when he can kneel before you?

why worship those who spat venom everytime they open their mouth when ballads and praises, songs of life flow from yours?

why chase after meaningless praises when your words sting like the strongest alcohol, burning his throat, making his eyes water as he becomes more and more addicted to you?

that’s exactly why the anemo archon prefers to worship you instead. when you braid his hair and comb out the knots as he nuzzles against your form, dazed and sleepy.

when you’re there to console him, help him through his darkest days when those wretches of celestia has done nothing.

when you’re kissing away the tears that spill from his eyes, shushing his slurred speeches and sobs of pleasure as you continue to ram into that one spot inside him, making him shriek and spill over his stomach again and again.

the windborn bard could worship you for eternity.

spilling another load into his stomach, the god in your arms spasms and twitches as his legs weakly wrap around your waist to at least try and calm the twitching of his small body.

dear stars above, you felt so big he could almost feel your tip in his stomach in his sex drunken haze. slurred whines of what seems to be your name flowing out of his mouth as he tries to keep his last threads of sanity together but how can he do so when he can just feel your previous loads slipping out of his rim and down to the sheets.

it all felt so hot, the room was so hot, everything was spinning. the warmth of your cum seeping out of his hole, the slight bulge in his stomach, the feeling of your finger wiggling in next to his already stuffed hole and pushing the cum back inside while your cock stays in — venti lets out a weak sound.

“look at you, little bird. you’re leaking out my cum that i worked so hard to put in you. can’t have my hard work being spent, right?” you coo out teasingly, a grin bit too sadistic tugging on your lips as venti writhes under you when you add in another finger. stars above, were you trying to break him?

venti couldn’t respond. he couldn’t even fully understand and register your words. brain too fried from the previous rounds of your just absolutely handling his small body around, pinching, teasing, smacking, leaving marks and hickeys but he loved it all.

as a response, the bard only weakly bucks his hips back into your strap again seemingly wanting more. my, what an insatiable little bird.

throwing his leg over your shoulder, you take out your fingers from his hole and squeeze his tiny waist once in a warning before fucking back into him again. small whines, weak noises and slurred whorish moans spill out from under you, the anemo archon far too fucked stupid to even try to properly say your name anymore.

making a grabby motion with his hands — a silent ask to hold you close while you fuck him full of your cum again — you decide to be nice and lean down, the absolutely filthy wet noises of your cock easily entering him causing venti to dig his blunt nails into your back, pulling you closer to himself.

feeling another orgasm building up embarrassingly quickly, the archon chases after your lips with weak whines, a sob following as you deny him of a proper kiss. instead teasing him by kissing his soft cheek. he didn’t even realize he was crying.

but soon those soft and weak whimpers and slurred words turn into a sharp scream as he feels himself cumming into both of your stomachs again, a sob of your name following along as you chase your high, getting more frantic with your movements.

the archon feels himself getting filled up again when your hips stutter, causing the short man under you to whimper a quiet “[n-nameee…❤︎︎]” in your ears.

after having caught your breath, you pull away from him slightly. pushing his hair away from his face, you couldn’t help but laugh as you wipe away his tears. but that laugh is cut off short as the archon bucks his hips against yours again, a cheeky grin pulling on his lips.

#nobu.writes #sub genshin impact #sub genshin #sub!genshin impact #sub!genshin #sub venti #sub!venti #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader smut #genshin x reader smut #genshin smut #venti x reader smut #venti smut #🌊 anon #new anon!!!#gender neutral reader

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ckhaine · 11 days

Text

O2, sweven | montréal

ᝰ playing montreal by the weeknd. pairing badboy!jk x afab reader genres best friends + fluff angst smut

as you are by the weeknd “show me your broken heart and all your scars.”

( intro ) montréal﹕where you and your best friend want to help each other, but don't want to accept it, leading to complications, hurt and a strong sexual desire.

ch. content MATURE, vulgar language, JK’s a lil mean at the start, self-harm, daddy issues and mommy issues on JK’s end, underage usage of drugs, very light degradation, reader’s soft and caring here, unprotected sex ...

may contain some grammar mistakes, please ignore them!

send your thoughts · montréal mlist

> nother chapter :)) had fun writing this, actually, despite the aches in my hands but i’m hoping it payed off ;; my tumblr has been quiet so i’m praying this brings some activity here, js trying to clean up the cobwebs in my blog. ok bye ♡

ㅤㅤ“Jungkook!” You quietly shout, aware of the large crowd of students in the halls but they’re slowly leaving to their classes.

Walking towards Jungkook who’s busy looking into his locker, getting the books and tools he needs, he turns his head towards you with a raised brow.

Instantly, your hands are all over his face, cupping his cheeks and turning his head side-to-side, checking for any signs of possible harm that could’ve happened overnight.

Jungkook grunts, eyes darkening as his head jerks back, avoiding your touch which does, in fact, hurt your heart quite a bit. “I’m fine.” He tells you what you want to hear, just sternly. Your eyes shine with a small, doubtful twinkle.

“You promise?” You ask, and though it sounds childish, you really want to trust him. “Yeah.”

He won’t tell you about the deep wounds aching his wrist, ones that he caused but he had no part in the reason. Luckily, his arms are hidden underneath the loose, black jacket worn. Jungkook clears his throat, diverting his focus to shoving the necessities into his black school bag.

“Why didn’t you answer my text last night? Actually, I think I texted you, like, five times…? Called, even,” you softly mention, gawking at him like an idiot.

Pathetic. You felt pathetic. There’s no sparkle in his eyes, lacking the warmth they always held. You felt cold, no longer warm. Maybe because his body wasn’t pressed against yours, hugging you tight in his arms, or maybe it’s because you felt like you were begging to be noticed.

You never felt like this before. Makes you wonder why he’s the one making you feel this horrible when you’re staring at your heart in his hands.

His expression remains blank, cold. Almost like he doesn’t want to talk to you. But, why? You quickly look away from him, fiddling with the small pockets of your jeans, and the hoops of your belt. Your thumb traces the tiny diamonds that shine against the thin band.

“No. I wasn’t able to pay my phone bill. I’m going t’class, see y’later.” He brushes you off like you’re nothing but a speck of dust, shutting his locker and walking off.

Leaving you all alone in the quiet, empty hall.

ㅤㅤWiping the white, powdery remainders from his nose, Jungkook lets out a loud cough as he tips his head back onto the back of the couch, letting out a heavy sigh. Just as he’s about the shut his eyes and shift into a world he’ll never experience, there’s loud knocking on the door.

He shoots up, hand hastily dusting off the cocaine on the coffee table before he stumbles towards the door. A shaky hand twists the chipped, faux golden knob, and he’s so close to shutting the door.

Did he want to shut the door out of shame or spite? Spite… what’d you do to deserve that?

“Hi, Kook.” You smile, hands rubbing at your sides, the thick sweater you're wearing not doing enough to protect your skin from the cold night. “What d’you want?” Jungkook breathes out, eyes hazy of the high rushing through his veins.

You shrug, glancing behind his shoulder, into the small home he lives in. Fuck, can you even call it his “home” when all that happens is arguments between him and his parents?

Sighing, a semi-transparent cloud of air forming in the cold, you part your lips to speak. “Wanted to check up on you. Your parent’s home?” You ask, raising a brow in query. “Mom’s passed out, dad hasn’t been home in days. So, uhh, no.” He says with a dry chuckle, letting you in.

ㅤㅤHopefully his brother isn’t bothered by his headboard rocking against the wall. Jungkook’s lips slide against yours, dipping his tongue in your mouth, swallowing your loud moans and whimpers of his name. His knees dig into the firm yet soft mattress, breaking the kiss to watch the way his cock disappears into your dewy folds.

“This your way of checkin’ up on me, huh?” Jungkook comments, making you roll your eyes in annoyance, yet they roll into the back of your head as the tip of his cock kisses your sweet spot. “Pfft, f-fuck you.” You falter.

He lets out an airy breath, straightening his posture so he’s no longer hovering over you. “I’m already fuckin’ you, baby. Don’t be greedy. Take what I give you,” he says in a sarcastic, mocking tone.

Asshole.

Jungkook’s large hands cup your hips, his thumb gently brushing over your pretty, moisturized skin. The soft, warm light of the lamp on his nightstand grazes against your skin, making the sparkle of the tears in your eyes brighter. Making his pride much, much higher.

“Yes, yes, yes—” You gasp, eyes wide and round while he roughly trusts into you; like he’s using you for his own pleasure yet that’s all you want.

A knot forms in your stomach, causing you to throw your head onto the large, white pillow behind you. The scent of musky cologne, shower gel and cigarettes lingers on his pillow. The same scent that lingers on his clothes—the comforting one that’s embedded into his skin.

You let out a loud whine, one that’s close to a scream while you come undone. Your thighs shake as your nails claw into Jungkook’s skin, knowing you're leaving red crescent moons. Long, red lines on his tan skin.

It triggers his release, burying himself inside you as deep as he can as his shaft twitches, his face tucked into the crook of your neck, feeling your hand present at the back of his head. Your fingers tangled within his dark strands due to the sensitivity.

Jungkook flops down beside you, on his back, panting and licking his lower lip. One of his arms is tossed over your torso, the bandages you had put on his wrists covering up last night’s misery.

“I’m sorry,” you abruptly say, glancing over at him with sad eyes. The hand over your torso shifts, moving up to sensually brush his fingers against your cheek. “I-I hate that this happens to you—it’s so messed up ‘n I—”

“Baby, enough.” He sighs, leaning over to plant kisses all over your sweet face, hoping to kiss away that frown that’s on your lips. “It’s not your fault. I’m right here, no? Breathing, alive... I’m okay.”

#ckhaine 𓃭 #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff

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beegalactica · 5 months

Text

The real 'glow-up' is all mental.

With it being the prime season for the 'how to glow up' guides to make their rounds in the media we consume, it is always worth reminding yourself that the only way you are going to 'glow up' on the outside is if you 'glow up' on the inside.

I personally get annoyed with the whole glowing-up phenomenon because it perpetuates this idea that there is some kind of 'end goal' in life and once you reach it, everything will be perfect. In a world where the idea of what it means to be attractive, intelligent, successful, or desirable in any way is constantly changing, there is only one constant: YOU.

You are a lifelong investment, and you are worth every penny, second, and ounce of effort you put into yourself.

Let's go over some of my glow-up tips and habits for you this year and examine how much of your levelling-up will really need to take place in your head.

Invest in your hygiene. This doesn't mean buying the most expensive skincare and having a 30-step routine, this means brushing your teeth every day, taking showers regularly and looking after your hair. Of course, we all want to achieve that 'clean girl aesthetic' but to me, simple hygiene is the best way to send a message to your body and mind that you care. Nothing says "I love you just the way you are" to your body like taking the time to clean it, care for it and pay attention to what it needs.

Invest in your surroundings. Now I know, making your bed every morning can be an unnecessary waste of time, especially if you're just going to end up getting back into it at night, but I like to think that my surroundings reflect my mental state, so if my room is a mess, best believe my mind is a mess too.

Invest in your interests. Start a hobby, pick up a new skill, try to find a book that interests you, or even start a Tumblr blog 😉😉! This year, I am focusing on really cultivating myself and becoming an interesting person who has things to talk about with people, instead of mindless gossip or resulting in self-deprecation to entertain others.

Invest in your happiness. Do what makes you happy. Distance yourself from those who seek to pull you down, to prop themselves up. You are worth so much more than that. Sometimes, those people are in our households, and the only way to cope is to know what makes us feel good and chase that happiness. Know that whatever issue you are facing shall pass and you will feel good again.

There is a common belief among people who may struggle with their self-image that once they fix this, or change that, everything will be perfect, but as someone who has had that mentality, it won't. If you want to lose 10kg for example, but hate your current body, waking up skinny tomorrow won't fix that voice in your head that tells you that you're still not good enough. If you love yourself as you are, and acknowledge that exercising is a form of self-love, and it doesn't take away from it, that mental glow-up will begin to manifest itself physically.

What's the point of others complimenting you daily if you don't believe it or can't accept it because you don't think of yourself the way that they do?

Trust me when I say this, my biggest milestone on my 'glow up journey' was not losing x amount of weight, but looking at myself in the mirror, first thing in the morning with no make-up or styling, and still being able to say "Damn, I'm so beautiful." And I can confidently tell you that to reach this point, I didn't set the intention of losing weight and trying to become more beautiful, I set the intention of loving and accepting myself the way that I am and all the actions that followed after stemmed from this love that I have. I didn't feel the need to exercise because I wanted to be skinny, but because I knew that it was what my body needed, and I loved my body so much that I was willing to do that for her.

It's easy to get wrapped up in so many things and lose sight of yourself, but when that phone is off and you're all alone, disconnected from the rest of the world, what do you say to yourself?

P.S. If you're reading this thank you all for the love on my first post! Opening Tumblr every day to new notifications has created this sort of excitement and extreme joy that I didn't even know was possible! Stay safe and take care of yourself 💗💓

#lifeblr #girlblogging #girlblogger #it girl #that girl #becoming that girl #glow up #it girl energy #clean girl #glow up tips #self improvement #self development #how to glow up #self care #self love

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livelaughlovesubs · 3 months

Text

(Repost cuz tumblr still doesn’t like me- seriously, it’s the six time @nvllxiety)

Dom!reader x sub!akutagawa (reader is gender neutral)

Warning: handjob, overstim, overall very soft

Today your love came home especially early. Despite that fact he looked extremely exhausted and tired, your heart throbs a little whenever you see him in that state. You wanted to take care of him, to make him feel loved. Which is why you were hugging him gently as you two lied on your bed. Your arms wrapped around his waist from behind, chin placed on top of his head. “How was your day aku?” You whispered softly, noticing how tense he was. The boy took a deep breath before explaining, “it was fine as usual.”

You never knew if what he said was the truth, or maybe he doesn’t know better. Another reason why you try to be as tender and patient with him as you could. One of your hand found its way to his hair, ruffling through it while scrubbing his scalp slightly. “I see, as long as you are doing well.”

Akutagawa didn’t need to look at you in that moment to know you were smiling. As always you were being your kind and caring self, something that irritated him as well as made his heart pound. This feeling was weird, it hurts in his chest but he doesn’t want to let go. Suddenly you moved closer to him, those arms of yours tightening around his cold body. You were warm, or at least warmer than him. The warmth radiating from you was heating him up, his body was no longer cold. Now his cheeks were getting hotter, and that curling sensation in his stomach grew stronger. Truly bizarre.

“Hey, ryuunosuke.” He could swear his ears just got redder from the way you said his name, the way it rolled off your tongue made him feel tingles. Was this because you used his first name? “Do you… want me to help you? Down here.” You asked in a quiet manner, then your eyes wandered towards his crotch. “…huh…?!” The boy shook a little, this was surprising, why was his body acting so strange today. A shiver ran down his spine, and you noticed it. You didn’t rush him, waiting once again, matching your pace with his. “If you want to.” He answers, not looking into your eyes, rather avoiding them. “I see, thanks.”

God, he can read you like an open book, can’t you stop grinning at him like this? It was almost embarrassing. He grabbed a pillow, holding onto it like how you were holding him. Panting into the fabric while you slipped a hand inside his pants. “Cute.” You mumbled at the sight unfolding in front of you, feeling your own heartbeat rising.

Slowly you wrapped your hand around his half erect member, he let out shaky gasps as you did. With even more meticulous effort you gave him a handjob, moving it upwards in slow motion. When your fingers reached the top, you rubbed his tip a little, collecting the precum leaking from him to use as lube. He started to trembled, now grasping the pillow even tighter. You knew he was shaking because you could feel it, that was how close your bodies were. Without rushing things too much, you picked up the pace, your hand now moving a tad faster. His face was red as a cherry, completely different than his normal pale complexion. The shame and embarrassment he felt was practically painted on his needy expression, eyes half lidded as he tried to not squirm away from your touch.

In the end, he wasn’t able to keep himself still. Jerking his hips back and forth, matching the rhythm you set. Small whimpers started to slip from the boy. “Mhm..! Hu-uhgnn, hm..” those already barely audible sounds he made were further muffled by the pillow he was holding. If it wasn’t for how dead quiet the room was, you wouldn’t have been able to hear them. The only other noise that occurred were the sounds of yours and his breathing, as well as the blankets being moved aside. Soon enough he reached his limit, clawing at the pillow like a cat while you gazed at him with loving eyes. What are you going to do with him? He was so adorable you were going to overdose on cuteness.

“Ahh…haa-ha, nghhh…” Akutagawa whines a last time before he came, his slim figure trashing around a little. His shoulders also jerked upwards for a split second and his face twisted into one of bliss and want. You could feel something wet dripping down your hand, a familiar sensation by now. “Good job, aku, you did well.” You praised him again, feeling content with him. “mhm.” He gave back meekly, still not daring to look at you.

“… and are you up for a second round?” What? The boy had to think for a moment, you wanted another round? His ears just tainted bright red, it made you chuckle a little. While he was still ponding over your suggestion, you moved your hand again. He yelped, “eh-uhh..!” Now finally facing you, staring at you with hesitant eyes. “It will be fine, leave it all to me.”

This time he was a bit more expressive than before, jumping at every contact. It’s obvious he was more sensitive now, his shoulders were raised to his ears as he bit into the pillow. Was the pleasure too much? Was he ashamed of his voice? How cute. Your hand moved slightly faster, you could hear the pounding of your own heart, it was getting louder and louder. “Mhm..hngnnn, hmm..!” The boy let out some high pitched sounds. He was trying his best to make it easy for you, but in the end, he didn’t succeed. His legs clenched together, the overwhelming feeling was taking him by a storm. It felt so good but also frustrating, how he was losing himself over such a small thing.

“Ah.. y/n.” Akutagawa whispered, not knowing why he called out to you. “Yes? I’m right here with you, don’t worry, you are safe with me.” You reassured him, knowing that he was getting closer which is why you picked up your pace once again. “Hmm-!” Chocked out moans escaped him, a sigh that he was enjoying himself. This made you feel proud, of yourself and him. “So good, so so good for me.”

“Please..” he managed to say between ragged breathing’s, mouth hung agape while he continued to shiver. “It’s alright, dear.” You said, smiling when you noticed him looking back at you. “Ah-ahhHHh…!” Not long after he came again, this time his entire body shook as he came. Another wave of build up ecstasy washing over him, enough to make his mind go blank for a second. “You did so well, I’m proud of you.” You said, while kissing his head, hand still moving though slowly to help him come down. A sigh of relief and disappointment came from the male when he realised this was over. Now he was even more exhausted than before.

Even more of his fluid was running down your hand now, you grabbed a tissue to wipe it away. This was only a temporary solution, you should get a towel. “I’ll go to the bathroom, okay?” You proposed but he turned you down, switching positions so that he was facing you and snuggling against your chest. “… just a minute.” He demanded and closed his eyes. This act caught you off guard, but it wasn’t bad. Haaaah… you just can’t say no to him when he’s being this sweet and vulnerable.

#sub bsd #sub bungou stray dogs #sub akutagawa #sub ryuunosuke #sub character #sub!character #dom reader #dom!reader #akutagawa x you #akutagawa x y/n #akutagawa smut #akutagawa ryunosuke x reader #🌈 anon #akutagawa x reader #akutagawa bsd #bsd akutagawa #bungo stray dogs akutagawa #akutagawa ryuunosuke

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seineko · 1 year

Text

diluc ragnvindr x reader

warnings: explicit content, self indulgent, implied multiple orgasms, implied orgasm control

minors do not interact!

diluc does not talk - no, diluc cannot talk when he's inside you. all the neurons in his head constantly misfire and his mind is completely occupied with a single thought; the feeling of warm flesh completely wrapping him from the tip to the bottom.

his mouth is almost stuck to your neck; biting, sucking - trying his best to cover up the grunts, whines and whimpers that threaten to leave his throat involuntarily.

it does little to help him (and you) though. the sounds directly hit your bare skin at one of the most sensitive parts of your body, sending goosebumps all over it. but your mind has already turned into mush to even register those.

diluc is never rough, quite the opposite actually. he almost always goes slow. way too slow to the point tears run down your cheeks at the feeling of being absolutely full and so close to your release but still not able to reach it.

you're almost sure that he does it on purpose. the small twitch of his lips near your neck whenever a whimper leaves you should be proof enough.

his hands refuse to leave the flesh of your thighs, completely digging his fingernails in your flesh while they rest on his arms. that, coupled with the weight of his body pushed on to yours to reach your neck, is enough to let you feel him throbbing deep inside you.

your hands, on the other hand, are busy trying to engrave the map of scars on his arms and back into your mind. touch so careful, so delicate and so soft that he is forced to dig his hands, head and hips deeper into their respective spaces.

diluc is nothing if not passionate, but one thing no one would have expected would be how much of a menace he is in bed. so much so that he can go hours without letting you or himself reach the climax while getting you to the furthest edge on top of a cliff.

but all that is made up for when he gives you the most mind numbing release while huffing his breath into your mouth that he pressed his tongue into, one hand reaching up to caress your tears with his thumb, the other still under your thigh, letting you feel his own release flowing through you.

diluc cannot speak when making love to you, no. but a single word does leave his mouth when his mind clears enough to think about something other than your warm insides:

'again.'

#diluc #diluc x reader #diluc x you #genshin impact diluc #diluc smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin x you #🐈‍⬛boba.drabbles

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wip · 10 months

Note

just how many official tumblr blogs are there? i just recently found out that this one and changes exists which seems less than ideal

Hey, @limelocked!

Great question! We have, we hope, a great answer for you. First up is a comprehensive list of all of current active staff blogs.

You can find ’em by simply searching each name, + @, in the search bar. (i.e., @action)

@action: Highlighting Tumblr’s long-standing social justice priorities of racial justice, mental health, equality, and beyond.

@art Exploring and featuring original artists on Tumblr.

@artistalley: Supporting local artists on Tumblr by buying directly from their storefronts.

@artistpicks: Monthly curated experience by artists and creators on Tumblr.

@best-of-reblogs: A curated collection of some of the best reblog threads on Tumblr.

@bigweekon: Tumblr’s beloved podcast highlighting recent trends, memes, and more.

@blackexcellence: A showcase of things all Black, all excellent, past and present—literature, fashion, music, historical spotlights, and beyond.

@books: Exclusive interviews and curated content from authors, publishers, and book fans.

@changes: Your go-to for new Tumblr launches, bug fixes, and updates on platform.

@creatrs: A network that connects artists, makers, and builders with brands.

@emporium: The Official Blog of the Tumblr Shop™, run by Brick Whartley back from the Island.

@entertainment: Exclusive content and features from across TV, film, and streaming.

@engineering: Behind-the-scenes work on how Tumblr engineers build Tumblr.

@fandom: Home of Fandometrics, Tumblr’s weekly ranking of entertainment properties.

@fashion: Runways to streetwear and every style in between.

@featured: Featuring exclusive content from Tumblr’s many good, good blogs.

@gaming: Exclusive and curated content across mainstream and indie games.

@getloudr An in-kind ad donation program dedicated to amplifying marginalized voices.

@happytuesday: A blog dedicated to all our Tumblr Tuesdays, posts featuring users based on a weekly theme.

@humans: A blog we use so we can reply in the notes of various posts.

@kpop: Exclusive content and a curated experience of K-Pop on Tumblr.

@labs: A way for engineers at Tumblr to experiment in public.

@music: Exclusive content and features on all your favorite musical artists.

@postitforward: Supporting the community with resources for mental health, self-care, and wellness.

@prideplus: Your home for all things LGBTQIA+ on Tumblr.

@radar: Sharing four pieces of original posts from Tumblr artists per day, hand-curated by our team from across the globe.

@staff: The ultimate source for big news, platform updates, and everything that makes Tumblr, Tumblr.

@support: News, tips, and nerdy details from Tumblr Support.

@tee: A blog from your friendly neighborhood Tumblr user, Tee.

@todayontumblr: Daily curated content around trending topics on Tumblr.

@wip: Dedicated to feedback and questions from Tumblr users to Tumblr staff.

There’s more. For our global audiences, you can find all the localized Staff blogs. They’re linked here!

We also have a carousel in the feed somewhere called “Official Blogs,” but it might be that we need to make that more obvious or provide a dedicated feed or page somewhere.

Leave that last point with us, but we hope that helps! Thanks for your question, and have a good day.

(And a tip of the hat to you, @lizzieonka! Consider them tagged)

Best,

—Caragh, Cates, and Cyle

#editorial #blogs #wip speaks

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d10nyx · 3 months

Text

MAMA'S BOY - NERO

ft. nero x fem!reader

a/n: if nero does not stop looksmaxxing omfg why is it so hard to find a pic where he isn't mewing? this is admittedly so super self-indulgent and idek what the dmc fandom on tumblr is saying so... if this gets four notes i'll still die happy. feedback and reblogs appreciated :3 ty to @thevirgincherry for beta reading !! ilysm MWAH

cw: 18+ content, mdlb, nipple play, tit play(?) in general, use of mama, handjob, cum eating, super sappy smut basically

word count: 1.8k words

“You've gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me.” Is the first thing that spills past Nero's lips when you mention shifting the dynamics a little bit in your relationship. He's giving you an incredulous look, one of his brows arching towards his hairline.

“I'm really not. You're so irritable all the time. You need to let yourself relax. All that cynicism is getting to your head.” You say with a frown, your brows furrowing as you look at your boyfriend. He's giving you that look again - the one that says he's about three seconds away from saying something downright horrific, but he's choosing not to - to spare your feelings, of course.

“Right. And so, what… you coddling me like a kid's meant to… miraculously make me a ray of sunshine?” He scoffs, his own brows pinching together in frustration as he runs his hand through his hair. The cybernetic one, ‘cause his human hand is currently twitching at his side. “Baby, I love you, but seriously. I've been handling myself for a long while. I don't need you to do it.”

You know it's not that - you know Nero well enough to recognise the uncomfortable shift of his feet and the way the tips of his ears turn a slight pink. He's embarrassed, even if he's trying to hide it. A sense of unease always comes over him when he thinks about being taken care of. It's a luxury he's never had - one he thinks he doesn't deserve.

You give him that look that he really, really hates. ‘Cause you really are the only person that's always looked out for him, so seeing the way your eyes narrow in frustration is enough to have him wanting to kneel at your feet with his tail between his legs, rubbing himself against your thighs and pleading until you forgive him.

Shit. Maybe he's more cut out for this whole ‘mama’ shit than he thought.

His resolve wavers, his hand awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck before he lets out a soft sigh and nods. “Alright, alright. I’ll try it out, but I ain't promisin’ shit.”

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

Turns out all Nero needs is a few stern words and gentle touches and he's rolling over like a good boy, exposing the soft underbelly he tends to try and keep hidden. When he comes home drained and you're quick to guide him to a bath, it's hard for him not to completely melt under your attention.

Scratch his scalp when you're washing his hair, and he's fully ready to go all ‘yes, mama’ to whatever you want. He's happy to bare himself for you. You want him bent over the back of the couch? On all fours? He'll stick his tongue out and beg for it like a good boy if it meant you'd give him that proud expression that makes his heart feel like it's beating again. Mama gets what mama wants, and that's an irrefutable fact.

“C'mere, baby.” You coo after he makes his way into the apartment after a long day of ‘work’. Blood splatters his feet dragging against the floor. His movements are exhausted - slow and rugged. You can see that glazed over look making itself present in his eyes, his gaze somewhere off in the distance.

His body is working on autopilot as he makes his way to the sofa you're sitting on. He flops down next to you, and the change in him is immediate. The tension melts from him as he buries his face into your chest, nuzzling his way between your breasts as his hands clutch your waist tight enough that it's almost painful.

“Mama…” He croaks out, pressing himself right up against you, trying to wriggle his way on your lap without ever having to disconnect any part of himself from your warmth. You cradle him as best you can - it's not necessarily the easiest thing to have a 6’2 demon hybrid trying to curl up on your lap like a kitten, but he always manages to find a way to worm himself into your arms, clinging to you like he's scared you're gonna vanish as soon as he closes his eyes.

He's never found it so easy to be loved by someone. You gave him that unconditional, no strings attached love. You loved him just ‘cause he was worth loving in your eyes. Not because you needed him for something, or because you had some sense of pity for his situation.

You were easy to love, and his love for you was unwavering and all consuming. It was far too easy to fall into you with your kind eyes and gentle touch. He didn't have to deal with the shit of his life when he was with you. He could finally relax. He was safe.

“Missed you.” He breathes out against the skin peeking out from the low collar of your shirt, his blue eyes flicking up to gaze at your face. His nose brushes your skin, his hands pawing at your shirt as if he's trying to entice you to take it off. “Mama… please.”

“You gotta ask properly, baby. Use your big boy words, c'mon. What do you want from mama?” You coo, running a hand through his white hair. You let your nails rake over his scalp lightly, enjoying the way he shivers at the touch.

His hands slide under the fabric of your shirt, trying to tug it off anyway. He's never been good at this part - getting the words out. His cheeks grow all pink and he gets quiet, just whining until you let him pull the shirt off of your body. As soon as your tits are in view, he's licking, biting and sucking at every inch of skin he can get his mouth on.

“So impatient, baby.” You scold lightly, helping him adjust slightly so you can slip down his trousers, freeing his cock. It's already rock hard and leaky, the tip flushed red as it oozes precum down his length. “S'okay though. It's not your fault. Mama knows you can't think straight without her help.”

You give his dick a squeeze, his face scrunching up so prettily as he bucks his hips into your tight grip, his cock pulsing in your hand. “Mama… Mama, please. I'll be good, c'mon. Been good, just tou-”

His words are cut off with a groan as you finally start pumping his length in your hand, circling your wrist and running your thumb along his slit everytime you fist the head of his cock. You let go to spit into your palm before stroking him again, leaving him panting into your breasts.

His lips latch onto one of your nipples as you continue touching him, slick sounds filling the room. He suckles greedily, his eyes becoming heavy-lidded as he looks up at you, his tongue flicking eagerly against your nipple.

Your free hand cups his head, holding him against your tit as you let him fuck your fist. Your thumb brushes back and forth on his scalp as he pulls away from your nipple, biting and sucking marks into the flesh of your tits instead as his thumb plays with one of your nipples, stroking and pinching the bud.

“You're making such a mess, baby. Leaking all over mama's hand.” You tease, digging your nail lightly into his slit as he bucks his hips, a low whine spilling from his lips. “You sound so pretty, though. Lucky I'm so good to you, huh, pretty boy?”

You can see the conflict on his face at that nickname, the twitch of his brows and the way his face heats up, his teeth biting down just a little harsher as if he's trying to protest the choice. He can act all he wants, but his dick doesn't lie - and it always kicks when you call him that.

“Mama… gonna cum, mama, please…” He grits out, fucking your fist with more urgency. He pulls his face away from your tits just so he can shift his body to gain better control of his hips, rutting into your hand desperately as he chases his release. “Tits, mama. Lemme… lemme cum on you, please. I'll clean it up, promise. Please.”

You pause to think about it for a moment, watching him writhe as he struggles not to cum, his eyes tearing up and his face all flushed as he continues to jerk his hips, unable to stop chasing the pleasure you're giving him.

“Alright, baby. C’mere then.” You murmur, shifting to lie on your back. As soon as your grip on him loosens, he's quick to straddle your waist, kneeling over your body as he hungrily fists his cock, aiming it down towards your breasts.

“Fuck, mama. Gonna… gonna cum.” He grits, his hand quickly coming down next to your head to support his weight as he slumps forward, ribbons of white coating your chest. His lips part in a silent moan, his breath coming out in heavy pants.

He takes a couple of seconds before he leans down, his tongue sliding along your soiled skin. He laps up every drop of his release happily, his eyes practically shimmering with satisfaction.

“There we go. Such a good boy, cleaning up your mess.” You say softly, your hand finding his hair once more, scratching behind his ear in a way that never fails to have him melting in your grasp. He rests his head on your stomach when he's cleaned you up fully, his hand reaching out for yours. He yawns a little, letting himself lie across the couch while using you as his personal pillow.

“You sleepy?” You ask softly, gazing down at his hooded eyes. Nero nods softly, blinking slowly a few times. You smile at him, still stroking his hair with one hand as your free hand comes down to rest on his back, your thumb rubbing small circles there. “Take a nap, baby. Mama will be here when you wake up.”

He gives you another one of his looks - the one halfway between pure adoration and complete confusion. He knows you're someone that sees him. That sees Nero behind the front he puts up. Somehow, you're aware of how fucked up he is, and you're still willing to stay. He doesn't know how to take it, he can feel himself getting choked up as he meets your eyes. And he can't cry, not in front of you. So he nods again, closing his eyes to keep in the unshed tears, wrapping you up tightly in his free arm while his hand squeezes yours as hard as he can without hurting you.

“Alright, mama. Night.” He croaks out, the words he wants to say dying on his tongue. But when you rub your thumb over the nape of his neck and squeeze his hand back, he knows you felt it. He knows you love him, too. He knows that despite everything, it's enough for you.

He's enough for you.

#nero x reader #nero x you #dmc5 smut #dmc smut #dmc x reader #dmc x you #nero smut #still in my nero era

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floralcyanidee · 10 months

Text

ɴsғᴡ ᴀʟᴘʜᴀʙᴇᴛ - ᴊᴏɴᴀᴛʜᴀɴ ᴄʀᴀɴᴇ

Jonathan Crane x AFAB!reader

Behold the NSFW alphabet for Jonathan Crane.

warnings: smut, mentions of kinks, descriptions of kinks/sex

author’s note: I've seen people do these for a lot of characters/ people I have loved over the years, so I decided it was time I did my own. Obviously, none of this is canon, it's just my imagination lol. I'm still shadowbanned on my main tumblr, so I guess I'll be hanging out here for a while. But I'm still on that tumblr daily! Thanks for all your support (':

main masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

Despite his desire to be rough or detached during sex, Jonathan always ensures you’re cared for and comforted afterward. This includes a warm bath if needed, some cuddling (if he really cares for you), and helping you clean up. If Jonathan has an attachment to you, he’ll spend the rest of the session just hugging up to you and telling you how good you did.

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

Jonathan loves your legs- from your ankles to the apex of your thighs. He can't get enough of them, whether they’re wrapped around his waist, on either side of his head, or on his shoulders. Jonathan will bite and squeeze your thighs, often leaving marks and bruises. He’ll kiss up your calves and knees during missionary (which is rare unless he has taken a liking to you). On his own body, he guesses his torso or arms. They’re not too lanky or too buff, they’re a nice in-between. Jonathan’s body is lean and fit; he thinks it’s ideal enough. He’d rather focus on your body in general.

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)

Jonathan is such a cum slut. He’ll make sure to take all of you when he eats you out, licking and lapping at you until every drop is accounted for. Sometimes, if he’s feeling kinky enough, he’ll spit it into your mouth and let you spit it back into his. Jonathan also loves watching you swallow his cum or watch you take his load on your face. It causes him to get worked up all over again, no matter how spent he is. He enjoys cumming inside you, too. It’s one of his favorite things, especially when hitting it raw.

D= Dirty secret (Pretty self-explanatory)

Jonathan has a panty kink. He will steal your underwear any chance he can get, which is often. You pretend you don’t notice your favorite pairs going missing after visiting him, and you eventually feed into his addiction. He just loves your scent and the feel of the lace or cotton of your underwear between his fingers. Many would find this gross, but Jonathan finds it hot.

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

Jonathan definitely knows what he’s doing, even if he acts oblivious to most things. He lost his virginity at a reasonable age and has had many partners who have taught him just about everything he knows. Some stuff he’s learned on his own, though. Jonathan takes good care of you in the bedroom, making sure you’re just as pleased as him every time.

F= Favorite position

This man loves doggy through and through. Sure, missionary (if he likes you) and laying on your side feel good, but slamming his cock into you as deep as he can go from behind? Doggy is chef's kiss, in Jonathan’s opinion. He could ram into you forever, feeling you clench around him as his tip hits your cervix dead on. It never gets old.

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

Jonathan isn’t really a goofy person anyway, so he isn’t goofy during sex, either. Sure, if a mishap occurs, he may crack a smile, but other than that, he’s composed.

H= Hair (grooming habits)

He keeps himself pretty neat hair-wise. He’s trimmed but not clean-shaven- he thinks it’s a tad too much work. Besides, a little hair isn’t going to hurt anyone.

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

Jonathan likes it hot and dirty most of the time. He’ll get rough and grab you by the throat or grip your body with a vice, making sure you can’t move. Jonathan will take you against a wall, in the bed until the headboard breaks, and in the office bathroom if a quickie is needed. Every time is rough enough for you to be sore the following day. As I’ve mentioned a few times, if Jonathan has feelings for you, he doesn’t mind a little romance. He’ll be gentle and look you in the eye as he fucks you, his eyes full of wonder and endearment.

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

Jonathan used to rely on getting himself off just about every day until you stumbled into his life. Now, he doesn’t really think much of it unless you ask him to do it in front of you. Other than that, he has you to let out his sexual frustration.

K= Kink (kinks what they like, possibly unusual)

Boy, oh boy. Spitting, choking, blood, knife/gun, light bondage (sometimes actual bondage if Jonathan’s in a mood), spanking, slapping, hair-pulling, biting, fear (of course), cum-swapping/eating, degrading, the list goes on. I feel like Jonathan would enjoy exploring things with you.

L= Location (where they like to get it on)

Jonathan loves having sex with you quite literally anywhere he can. Preferably the bed where it’s comfortable, but if you’re in public or at work, he’ll take you to the bathroom. If he needs you immediately while at home, he’ll pin you against the wall or fuck you on the couch. Sometimes, the counter as well if it’s the spur of the moment.

M= Motivation (things that make them tick/turn-ons)

Seeing your legs, any time you’re confident in yourself, pulling his hair, biting his ear, you being afraid/ terrified, when you’re walking around the house naked (even if for a moment, he spares you nothing), seeing you happy or angry.

N= No (turn offs or absolutely won’t do)

Any body fluids other than spit, blood, or cum, torture to the full extent isn’t his thing (he doesn’t want to actually hurt you), full-on public play isn’t something he’s into either, but semi-public play is something he’s cool with.

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

Jonathan is magical with his mouth, so you’re always up for oral. He can work his tongue like none other and give the right amount of attention everywhere. He also loves it when you’re taking him with your mouth, gagging and crying around his length. Jonathan could thrust into your throat forever and be content. Jonathan, overall, enjoys both giving and receiving.

P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)

He is pretty quick in his movements, especially when he’s feeling unhinged. Jonathan will not be merciful when he’s feeling this way either, he will grab you somewhere on your body and use you like a toy and fuck you senseless. He can go numerous rounds, so he can last hours sometimes. This is a blessing and curse, depending on your libido.

Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)

Jonathan (as I’ve said) will totally fuck you while you’re both at work in the bathroom or sometimes in a closet at a friend’s house if you attend dinner together. Even at home, if you’re both in the mood for something quick, the kitchen counter is notorious for your quickie rendezvous. Jonathan always goes fast and hard with your quickies. There’s nothing slow or romantic about them.

R= Risk (do they like to try new things)

Between the two of you, there’s always something new going on in the bedroom. Sometimes, you’ll stumble upon something that interests you, and it’s the same for Jonathan. Most of the things he’s into, he knows he’s into them because he’s tried them with you. You’re constantly challenging him to try new things in the spur of the moment, too. One time, you asked Jonathan to tie up your hands with his tie because you thought he looked really good in it that day. Now you’ve graduated to handcuffs. It took some convincing and trust-checking for you to finally let him try to fear toxin on you, and even though it was terrifying, it was the best sex you’ve ever had.

S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)

God, this man can go several rounds and can go for hours like the Energizer Bunny. Every round differs in duration depending on how quickly you cum and how quickly he does as well. It also depends on how worked up you both get with every round.

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)

Oh boy. Jonathan loves using different toys on you, especially the Hitachi. He will make you spread your legs on the bed and put it against your clit as he sits and watches from across the room. Sometimes, he’ll use a bunny to spice things up, pushing in and out of you at a snail’s pace, much to your disliking. He is hesitant to let you use toys on him, but you’ve brought up the idea of a vibrating cock ring, to which he said he’d think about it.

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves?)

As I mentioned, Jonathan has tortured you (not literally) with toys, teasing, and new kinks. His favorite thing is teasing you until you’re overly wet and turned on, squirming for his touch. Jonathan also loves being teased, but only sometimes. He has to be in the mood for it, or else he’ll just get pissy.

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

Jonathan gets loud when the sex is really feral, which is most of the time. He’ll grunt in your ear and speak dirty words into it as he stutters and moans from how tight you are around him. He’ll praise you over and over and say your name like a mantra when he’s coming down from his high. There’s nothing Jonathan loves more than speaking your name as you milk him dry.

W= Wild card (random sin cannon of any sort)

Strip poker. Or stripping while playing any game, really. As odd as it sounds, Jonathan likes to play this, especially with chess. You aren’t too good at it, but you’re learning. So, of course, you’re the one to strip most of the time. Sometimes, the two of you will play actual poker, and you usually beat him, making him grumble as he takes off an article of clothing. Usually, this is your kinkiest kind of sex because of the slow build.

X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)

Jonathan is fairly average while soft, but when he’s hard, he’s pretty big. Not big enough to hurt, but big enough to make you full and miss that fullness when he pulls out of you. He knows how to use his cock properly in a way that it won’t bruise you unless he’s feeling violent or you want him to hurt you. Then he’s like an animal with what’s in his pants.

Y= Yearning (sex drive level)

Jonathan yearned for you for so long before you finally had interaction, both platonic and sexual. He would touch himself to the thought of you until he had the real thing. So, for the first few months of your relationship (or whatever this is), he was borderline addicted to exploring you and your body. His sex drive level was insane and still is sometimes. Like I’ve said, man could go for hours, especially if it’s with you.

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after? if so, how quickly after)

For Jonathan, sex either energizes him or knocks him the fuck out, all depending on how wild you get. Suppose it’s a rough session. In that case, he’ll curl up with you to his chest and fall asleep almost immediately following your aftercare. It’s cute. Sometimes, you’ll watch him sleep and realize that maybe you love him, and maybe he loves you too.

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