deathblacksmoke
half agony, half hope
m | she/they | 29i write things sometimes
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the unbearable weight of tenderness
pairing: jolly karlsson x f!reader
cw: unprotected p in v sex, soft dom jolly, reader is a little bossy and jolls is a perfect bb angel, kind of hurt/comfort but mostly just comfort, all sweet tings
word count: 1.6K
author’s note: the first of my jolly requests for the baby boy’s birthday ❤️ this one for my dearest hedy @darksigns-exe who wanted something nice and soft and comforting. thank you @circle-with-me as always for the beta!! i hope i did it justice <3
dividers by @saradika-graphics 🥀
It’s all been too much today — your heart hasn’t returned to its normal rate in hours and you can’t seem to stop the trembling of your hands. You don’t know how much more of it you can take, how many more of these days you can stomach.
You wait outside the door, unsure if you should go inside yet. He’s probably had a nice, relaxing day with you out of the house. He hardly gets the opportunity, and he deserves it. You don’t want to ruin his mood and bring him down with you.
But all you want is your bed and Jolly.
You imagine the welcoming sink of the mattress, the hold of your sweet boy, the weight of him on top of you as he kisses away all the bad. You just need him to fix it.
The immediate look of concern you’re met with when you step through the door and let your bag thud to the floor does little to soothe you, but he’s at your side in a moment, holding you to his chest as you allow yourself to slump into him.
“Bad day, darling?” he asks, but he doesn’t need to. He always knows. He’s long been able to read you perfectly, sense every little shift in your moods.
“Yeah,” you whine pathetically into his chest. He places a kiss to the top of your head and you feel as his lips curl into a smile. It isn’t mean-spirited. You can tell his gears are turning and he’s thinking up a solution.
Just like always.
“Why don’t you get comfortable while I order us some dinner. Does Chinese sound good?”
All you can bring yourself to do is nod, still feeling miserable, but hopeful and comforted as he separates from you and heads into the kitchen.
The thudding of his heartbeat beneath your ear soothes you. You’re still shaky, but at least if you can’t stop the trembling of your hands, you can place them on him.
But there’s something more you need. It’s usually just right, a lazy night in with him, but you can’t seem to settle. Even resting your full weight on him, his hands running through your hair, there’s a nagging buzz beneath your skin.
He notices — enough time spent squirming and unsettled on top of him has him fixing you with a look not quite of agitation, but a mix of impatience and pity.
“Are you doing all right, doll?” he asks you, and it’s almost teasing. You know what he needs from you before he gives you what you need, but instead you find yourself whimpering, squirming more until he stills you with a strong hand gripping your side.
“Joakim,” you whine, your eyes meeting his with a plea. “Please.”
“You have to tell me what you need,” comes his immediate response, stern and unwavering, but the edge of softness in his tone lets you know he isn’t angry with you. “I’ll give you what you need but you have to tell me what it is.”
“I just need you,” you beg, burying your face in his chest. You know he needs more from you, but it’s all so much. “Need you to get me out of my head, Jolly, please.”
You watch as the pity flickers back through his expression. There’s an undercurrent of desire, but it’s overwhelmed by something more tender as he traces a finger along your cheek.
“Do you want me to take you to bed?”
You feel as the ease floods through you, grateful he takes it easy on you just this once. You gaze up at him and nod, pleased and relieved as a grin spreads across his face.
The anxiety slowly seeps out of you as his body weight presses you into the sheets.
The welcome sink of the mattress is nothing compared to the burn, the sizzle under your skin everywhere you’re touching him — everywhere.
“Baby,” you gasp, with hardly a grasp on what you’re asking for, but it doesn’t matter. He knows. He always knows, as kisses are trailed from your lips, to your cheek, down your neck, over your collarbones. “Jolly.”
A soft shh is pressed into the skin of your chest. You vibrate with it, still trembling but in a way that’s so very different, a pleasant disquiet inside of you as he kisses away all the bad, like you knew he would. Just like he always does.
“I always take care of you, don’t I?” he asks. A rhetorical question, but you find yourself nodding nonetheless, your skin hot and feverish as your shaking hands find purchase on his bare shoulders.
It’s always so much with him, overwhelmed completely as you’re naked in your bed and bent to his will.
It should always be this way.
The angle is awkward, cramped and a little wrong, when he slides his hand down through your folds, brushing a finger over your clit and smiling into your chest as he draws a gasp from you.
“Do you want me to get you off like this?”
You consider it for a long moment, losing yourself in the feeling of his rough hands on you. The callouses juxtapose with his ultra-gentle touch and it dizzies you. It’s enough.
It could be enough.
He could touch you like this for hours, his full weight resting on you as he draws orgasm after orgasm from you with practiced ease, but —
“No,” you gasp, grappling with his shoulders and pulling him back up to you. His pupils are blown when his eyes meet yours. He could do this for hours, too. You can’t help but pull him down to your lips, grateful for the way he always takes such perfect care of you. “Can I have your cock?”
He’s been so good for you, so patient, so polite — focusing entirely on you rather than his aching hardness. You knew. You felt it pressed into your thigh, saw him grinding his hips into the mattress as you felt the shift of the bed beneath you.
It’s for you, too, as much as him, when you ask for it. “Please.”
He nods, out of sorts, burying his face in your neck once more. Every part of you is covered by him. He’s so affected that he doesn’t make you work for it and you’re so thankful.
It’s with one languid move, smooth and practiced, that he lifts his hips and slides himself into you.
The stretch burns — always does for just a moment — but he’s right there to soothe you with kisses when you find yourself gasping.
“Be good for me, love,” he breathes into your open mouth, accompanied by the steady, shallow rock of his hips. It’s your favorite thing, being wholly surrounded by him, being picked apart and pieced back together.
You’re adjusted before long, lost in the slow drag of him inside you and his lips on your skin as you relax into the mattress once more, letting him take care of you.
“That’s my good girl,” he praises, nipping ever so gently at your bottom lip. Your mouth curves involuntarily into a grin. He always fixes it.
There’s a long while spent like that, his spit slick lips never parting from you, finding a home on your skin.
Your mind shifts to the realization you could spend your whole night like this, your whole life like this, when he lifts his torso off yours.
“Hey, no,” you complain, grabbing at his sides to try to drag him back down to you. The hand that had been moving towards your center stops its descent, and he stops moving, and you feel a little bit like you want to scream. You can’t have him stop.
“You don’t want me to get you off?” he asks, and the sweet look on his face would make you soft for him, if not for your complete displeasure with the space he’s put between you.
You shake your head, dragging him back on top of you. Your hands find purchase on his lower back, fingers digging into his skin, moving his hips for him. You know you’ll leave marks with how hard you’re gripping. You can’t wait to admire the marks for the days to come, knowing you did that.
“I’ll cum like this,” you tell him. He places a smile to your lips. It’s just the right amount of pressure, of friction. When you pull your knees up, wrapping your legs around him, it’s just right. “Just stay.”
It’s so much for so long that you can’t help yourself. You throw your head back but he follows, hands in your hair moving your head forward again to meet his gaze. “Eyes on me, darling.”
It’s out of your power when you feel yourself tumbling over the edge, gaze remaining on him, just like he asked. You knew he wouldn’t be far behind and you feel him stilling inside of you, bringing his mouth to yours to quiet his gasps against your lips.
And it’s everything you needed from him.
The moments pass and you’re so content to have him stay like that, resting on you, softening inside of you.
“How’s a bath sound? Need to get ourselves cleaned up,” he says into your neck, but not making any moves to get up. You’re not ready yet.
“Just a little while longer?” you ask — the question not even finished before you swear you feel him rest more of his weight on you, sinking further into the bed, intent to keep fixing it.
Whatever you want. Just like always.
tags:
@concretenoah @circle-with-me @darksigns-exe @ladyveronikawrites @cookiesupplier
@bngurngheart @agravemisstake @iknownothingpeople @anameunmusical @sitkowski
@abiomens @baddestomens @collapsedglasshouses @somebodyels3 @itsafullmoon
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The Working Girl, Daniel Varoujan (translated by Alice Stone Blackwell)
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my wips:
dramamine 10 (y’all know)
cyanide (ruffilo x ofc, local band au)
nicky gets the strap (ruffilo x f!reader, exactly what it sounds like it is)
nick and noah angsty thing (ruffilo x noah, friends to lovers slowish burn — collaborating with @darksigns-exe)
playing: 3x3, lore corner
tagging: @circle-with-me @darksigns-exe @ladyveronikawrites @aplaceinthedark
FERN'S WIP WEEKEND GAMES
Hey y'all! Let's force each other to work on our WiPs, even if it's just to talk about them or think about them!
EACH WIP WEEKEND RUNS FROM FRIDAY 5PM UTC-5 TO SUNDAY 11:59PM UTC-5
To participate, reblog with up to 5 filenames of your WIPs, and also which games you want to participate in this weekend (example at the bottom of this post).
Each game is basically replying to asks about your WIPs in different ways! For that reason, please make sure to search the reblogs to find other players - send them an ask, keep the game going, force each other to work on their WIPs!
If you see this, you are invited to play, even if you weren't tagged!
There are 3 different games. You can play all of them, or only the ones you like best:
1) Three by Threes: The OG WIP Wednesday game. For each filename you receive in your ask box, reply to the ask with 3 NEW sentences on that WIP. Then, send 3 asks to other WIP Weekend players!
2) Lore Corner: Answer questions about your WIP. It can be anything from headcanons to backstory that you have for your WIP that don't even make it into the fic. Askers - get creative with your questions! (If you are playing Lore Corner, please give a single-sentence description of each of your WiPs so askers have some context)
3) Moodboard Mania: Make a moodboard for your WIP! Askers can also specify a moment or a character-specific moodboard relating to your WIP so that you're not making the same moodboard over and over.
————————
MY WIPS:
• the universe and us in the night (vampire!Jolly x girl!Noah) - Ever romanced your sleep paralysis demon? Ever embraced the void of night? Ever lost your fucking mind? Noah's really going through it in the pandemic.
• rainy ghost (Nicholas x Noah) - Church boy Noah is caught in the closet with the pastor's adult son and is excommunicated, destroying his life and effectively leaving him homeless. Thankfully, Folio's dead distant relative owned a big, spooky mansion on the coast that needs tending. Nobody told Noah about the haunting, though.
• more fae shit (Nicholas x Noah) - In the same universe as strap the wing, but a millenia earlier.
GAMES I'M PLAYING: three by threes, lore corner
Tagging @throughwoodsanddirt @the-way-of-words @cowpokeomens @blessedwithabadomen @poppy-in-the-woods and anyone else who wants to play!
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the unbearable weight of tenderness
pairing: jolly karlsson x f!reader
cw: unprotected p in v sex, soft dom jolly, reader is a little bossy and jolls is a perfect bb angel, kind of hurt/comfort but mostly just comfort, all sweet tings
word count: 1.6K
author’s note: the first of my jolly requests for the baby boy’s birthday ❤️ this one for my dearest hedy @darksigns-exe who wanted something nice and soft and comforting. thank you @circle-with-me as always for the beta!! i hope i did it justice <3
dividers by @saradika-graphics 🥀
It’s all been too much today — your heart hasn’t returned to its normal rate in hours and you can’t seem to stop the trembling of your hands. You don’t know how much more of it you can take, how many more of these days you can stomach.
You wait outside the door, unsure if you should go inside yet. He’s probably had a nice, relaxing day with you out of the house. He hardly gets the opportunity, and he deserves it. You don’t want to ruin his mood and bring him down with you.
But all you want is your bed and Jolly.
You imagine the welcoming sink of the mattress, the hold of your sweet boy, the weight of him on top of you as he kisses away all the bad. You just need him to fix it.
The immediate look of concern you’re met with when you step through the door and let your bag thud to the floor does little to soothe you, but he’s at your side in a moment, holding you to his chest as you allow yourself to slump into him.
“Bad day, darling?” he asks, but he doesn’t need to. He always knows. He’s long been able to read you perfectly, sense every little shift in your moods.
“Yeah,” you whine pathetically into his chest. He places a kiss to the top of your head and you feel as his lips curl into a smile. It isn’t mean-spirited. You can tell his gears are turning and he’s thinking up a solution.
Just like always.
“Why don’t you get comfortable while I order us some dinner. Does Chinese sound good?”
All you can bring yourself to do is nod, still feeling miserable, but hopeful and comforted as he separates from you and heads into the kitchen.
The thudding of his heartbeat beneath your ear soothes you. You’re still shaky, but at least if you can’t stop the trembling of your hands, you can place them on him.
But there’s something more you need. It’s usually just right, a lazy night in with him, but you can’t seem to settle. Even resting your full weight on him, his hands running through your hair, there’s a nagging buzz beneath your skin.
He notices — enough time spent squirming and unsettled on top of him has him fixing you with a look not quite of agitation, but a mix of impatience and pity.
“Are you doing all right, doll?” he asks you, and it’s almost teasing. You know what he needs from you before he gives you what you need, but instead you find yourself whimpering, squirming more until he stills you with a strong hand gripping your side.
“Joakim,” you whine, your eyes meeting his with a plea. “Please.”
“You have to tell me what you need,” comes his immediate response, stern and unwavering, but the edge of softness in his tone lets you know he isn’t angry with you. “I’ll give you what you need but you have to tell me what it is.”
“I just need you,” you beg, burying your face in his chest. You know he needs more from you, but it’s all so much. “Need you to get me out of my head, Jolly, please.”
You watch as the pity flickers back through his expression. There’s an undercurrent of desire, but it’s overwhelmed by something more tender as he traces a finger along your cheek.
“Do you want me to take you to bed?”
You feel as the ease floods through you, grateful he takes it easy on you just this once. You gaze up at him and nod, pleased and relieved as a grin spreads across his face.
The anxiety slowly seeps out of you as his body weight presses you into the sheets.
The welcome sink of the mattress is nothing compared to the burn, the sizzle under your skin everywhere you’re touching him — everywhere.
“Baby,” you gasp, with hardly a grasp on what you’re asking for, but it doesn’t matter. He knows. He always knows, as kisses are trailed from your lips, to your cheek, down your neck, over your collarbones. “Jolly.”
A soft shh is pressed into the skin of your chest. You vibrate with it, still trembling but in a way that’s so very different, a pleasant disquiet inside of you as he kisses away all the bad, like you knew he would. Just like he always does.
“I always take care of you, don’t I?” he asks. A rhetorical question, but you find yourself nodding nonetheless, your skin hot and feverish as your shaking hands find purchase on his bare shoulders.
It’s always so much with him, overwhelmed completely as you’re naked in your bed and bent to his will.
It should always be this way.
The angle is awkward, cramped and a little wrong, when he slides his hand down through your folds, brushing a finger over your clit and smiling into your chest as he draws a gasp from you.
“Do you want me to get you off like this?”
You consider it for a long moment, losing yourself in the feeling of his rough hands on you. The callouses juxtapose with his ultra-gentle touch and it dizzies you. It’s enough.
It could be enough.
He could touch you like this for hours, his full weight resting on you as he draws orgasm after orgasm from you with practiced ease, but —
“No,” you gasp, grappling with his shoulders and pulling him back up to you. His pupils are blown when his eyes meet yours. He could do this for hours, too. You can’t help but pull him down to your lips, grateful for the way he always takes such perfect care of you. “Can I have your cock?”
He’s been so good for you, so patient, so polite — focusing entirely on you rather than his aching hardness. You knew. You felt it pressed into your thigh, saw him grinding his hips into the mattress as you felt the shift of the bed beneath you.
It’s for you, too, as much as him, when you ask for it. “Please.”
He nods, out of sorts, burying his face in your neck once more. Every part of you is covered by him. He’s so affected that he doesn’t make you work for it and you’re so thankful.
It’s with one languid move, smooth and practiced, that he lifts his hips and slides himself into you.
The stretch burns — always does for just a moment — but he’s right there to soothe you with kisses when you find yourself gasping.
“Be good for me, love,” he breathes into your open mouth, accompanied by the steady, shallow rock of his hips. It’s your favorite thing, being wholly surrounded by him, being picked apart and pieced back together.
You’re adjusted before long, lost in the slow drag of him inside you and his lips on your skin as you relax into the mattress once more, letting him take care of you.
“That’s my good girl,” he praises, nipping ever so gently at your bottom lip. Your mouth curves involuntarily into a grin. He always fixes it.
There’s a long while spent like that, his spit slick lips never parting from you, finding a home on your skin.
Your mind shifts to the realization you could spend your whole night like this, your whole life like this, when he lifts his torso off yours.
“Hey, no,” you complain, grabbing at his sides to try to drag him back down to you. The hand that had been moving towards your center stops its descent, and he stops moving, and you feel a little bit like you want to scream. You can’t have him stop.
“You don’t want me to get you off?” he asks, and the sweet look on his face would make you soft for him, if not for your complete displeasure with the space he’s put between you.
You shake your head, dragging him back on top of you. Your hands find purchase on his lower back, fingers digging into his skin, moving his hips for him. You know you’ll leave marks with how hard you’re gripping. You can’t wait to admire the marks for the days to come, knowing you did that.
“I’ll cum like this,” you tell him. He places a smile to your lips. It’s just the right amount of pressure, of friction. When you pull your knees up, wrapping your legs around him, it’s just right. “Just stay.”
It’s so much for so long that you can’t help yourself. You throw your head back but he follows, hands in your hair moving your head forward again to meet his gaze. “Eyes on me, darling.”
It’s out of your power when you feel yourself tumbling over the edge, gaze remaining on him, just like he asked. You knew he wouldn’t be far behind and you feel him stilling inside of you, bringing his mouth to yours to quiet his gasps against your lips.
And it’s everything you needed from him.
The moments pass and you’re so content to have him stay like that, resting on you, softening inside of you.
“How’s a bath sound? Need to get ourselves cleaned up,” he says into your neck, but not making any moves to get up. You’re not ready yet.
“Just a little while longer?” you ask — the question not even finished before you swear you feel him rest more of his weight on you, sinking further into the bed, intent to keep fixing it.
Whatever you want. Just like always.
tags:
@concretenoah @circle-with-me @darksigns-exe @ladyveronikawrites @cookiesupplier
@bngurngheart @agravemisstake @iknownothingpeople @anameunmusical @sitkowski
@abiomens @baddestomens @collapsedglasshouses @somebodyels3 @itsafullmoon
#jolly karlsson fic#jolly karlsson fanfiction#jolly karlsson rpf#jolly karlsson smut#bad omens fic#bad omens fanfiction#bad omens rpf#bad omens smut#joakim jolly karlsson fic#joakim jolly karlsson fanfiction#joakim jolly karlsson rpf#joakim jolly karlsson smut#jolly karlsson x f!reader#deathblacksmoke works
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the sexual tension between my solitude and wanting to fall in love
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sorry i got distracted thinking about sitting in your lap and sucking on your tongue. it'll happen again
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Men shouldn't be allowed to be this pretty 📸 heffylynn
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today on the boy is in my brain
(@darksigns-exe assassination attempt)
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women and girls, here’s a reminder that you deserve to eat. your goal in life isn’t to be skinny. the world is a happier place when you nurture your body and your mind so they can function properly. enjoy all the different foods and flavors out there without guilt. i love you
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daily fave jolly 💛
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Oh my god just kiss????
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