#Hensen

[englishcarssince1946]

1983 Hensen M30

My tumblr-blogs:

www.tumblr.com/germancarssince1946 & www.tumblr.com/frenchcarssince1946 & www.tumblr.com/englishcarssince1946 & www.tumblr.com/italiancarssince1946 & www.tumblr.com/japanesecarssince1947 & www.tumblr.com/uscarssince1935

[tampire]

Labyrinth / Sandman As requested by @violetoftheendless

[xxviviennevincentxx]

[alphabetskunk]

[bigtreefest]

New Year Coming In

Pairing: Boyfriend! Jake Jensen x Girlfriend! Reader

Summary: You and Jake may have signed up for more than you can handle to start off the new year with a bang.

Word count: 1,514

Content/warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, smut, p in v unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (f receiving), cum eating, kissing, exhausted sex, aftercare, Jake and his glasses and his hair and his beefy body and his everything

A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR!! I hope you all enjoy this Jakey crackfic that took over my mind at 2am. Please, feel more than welcome to screech with me about it. And a special little thanks to @brandycranby for a line of dialogue.

Comments, reblogs, and asks are especially appreciated!

Dividers by @strangergraphics

Main Masterlist

The idea sounded perfect at first. Jake was happy to indulge you. Heck, it felt amazing for him, too. He got to welcome the new year with a good release, pleasing himself and the woman he loves. But oh man, if he didn’t wish he met you sooner before, this was the one thing that would get him pleading for it to be 2001 all over again, even if he had to relive the awkward years to avoid death by dehydration. Never mind how old the two of you were back then, he would’ve time traveled for it to be that year with you now.

A nice year would’ve been 2004, too. Coming four times in one session was something he could do with his eyes closed. Except he hadn’t, his eyes were peeled open, looking at the bright screen, in the times where he remembered being locked in his dark bedroom with his first laptop. Four times, easy. Really, even ten times, 2010. It would’ve had to have been parsed out over the course of the day, but he could’ve done it without complaint. Except, for the year 2025, the two of you had gotten a late start, not realizing how long and how much 25 rounds would take out of you. The agreement being 25 times, for each of you.

Not that he wanted to complain, but Jake Jensen never thought that he would’ve seen the day where he thought it was too much sex. And yet, here he was nearly drained. He laid on his back, cheeks ruddy, glasses crooked, bleached strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead as he looked up at you with hooded eyes. His pupils were dilated in bodily satisfaction, just barely able to focus on you as you bounced on top of him, chasing your 12th simultaneous orgasm.

The sheets had been discarded long ago to the side, leaving you both exposed to the air in the room that was steadily rising in temperature, the sweat on your bodies lingering.

His fingertips dug into your thighs, sore hips sloppily raising to meet yours. Just enough sensation remained in his dick to feel you begin to clench in closeness as you reached down to rub your clit, tipping yourself over the edge with Jake joining you. His eyes squeezed shut and his chest heaved, nothing coming out of him despite the sensation of overstimulation that had overwhelmed him. In fact, he had shot blanks for the last three orgasms, too.

While you both came down from your highs, puffs of humid air filling the narrow space between your mouths as you leaned down to kiss Jake, he looked up at you, his face a mix of pure exhaustion, lined faintly with dopey satisfaction, but also a little worry. He hummed against your lips, pressing his forehead to yours to get just enough leverage to speak.

“Baby, I don’t think I can get to 25. We’re at 12 and my dick is gonna fall off.”

You giggled, pulling away and placing a hand on Jake’s cheek, thumb brushing back and forth.

“Okay, okay. How about this, what if we just make it 25 total?”

Jake furiously nodded his head, grateful for the reprieve. Between the two of you now, you’d reached 24. He could get you to 25. Hopefully. He knew his body was past halfway to limp, sucked dry, but maybe you weren’t as much of a noodle. Maybe you had one more in you.

Just when he thought he could take a breather, though, the both of you looked over your shoulder at the TV that had been softly playing in the background. In the top corner by the year’s newest pop sensation was a countdown clock to the new year. It had just reached under ten minutes.

Your head snapped back forward and your gaze met your boyfriend’s, the both of you panicking with eyes as wide as saucers. You had to make your deadline and time was dwindling quickly! But Jake swiftly jumped into action, tugging your hips in a gesture to pull you up his body. There was no way he had the time to recover and go another round, but this was dire!

“Use my face. USE MY FACE!” he urged you as he frantically pulled his glasses off and set them on the bedside table. You shuffled forward on your knees, his limp dick sliding out of your puffy entrance, filled with multiple rounds of your combined release. You moved so quickly to hover over his head that it didn’t have time to seep out of you before Jake yanked you down to his mouth with a firm grip by his large hands.

In an instant, his tongue was inside you, laving at your still spasming pussy, drinking down your wetness as his nose nudged your clit, coaxing it back to a stage of readiness. In seconds, he had you whining, grinding your hips against his face, begging for more attention on your sensitive nub. Jake could tell exactly what you needed, moving his mouth upwards, goatee lightly scratching your labia as he did so, and latched on to your clit, tongue working in tandem with the suction he was creating.

As if he still weren’t close enough to you, he used his hands to press on your plush thighs, squeezing you closer to him when he sucked harder. A new wave of arousal flowed through you, confirmed by Jake’s satisfied hum that sent a shockwave out from your core and across your limbs.

Your arms flailed, searching for something to hold onto, one reaching the headboard, the other drifting down into his damp locks. As you fisted his hair, you made brief eye contact with him, a smile on his face evident by the creases at the corner of his bright blue eyes when he reached up and tweaked a nipple towards the end of his focus range. Jake could just barely make out the scene above him, squinting slightly, when you fought throwing your head back in pleasure.

You might have felt like ecstasy was about to make your body implode, but you would’ve held on for just how pretty the sight of your boyfriend was, enjoying this moment underneath you, trying to feed your insatiable appetite for him. You were so zoned in to his every feature that he caught you by surprise when he did that thing with his tongue, guaranteed to make you topple over the edge every time.

You barely caught the image of him winking at you in reassurance that he wanted you to let go as you squeezed your eyes shut and your fists clenched hard, the headboard creaking. Jake let out a groan against your pussy that sent another tingle up your spine, causing you to call out, “Ah, Jake!” when you careened over the cliff once more.

Jake broke the suction of his mouth, gently easing you off of him, his strong arms setting you into the mound of sheets that laid at his side. He had regained just enough life in his legs to jet to the bathroom quickly to clean himself up, returning with a warm, damp towel which he used to tenderly wipe between your legs. He discarded it, tossing it into the hamper as fast as he could.

Jake settled back into bed, slipping his glasses back on and looking at the countdown clock on the television which had just dipped below 30 seconds, as he pulled your naked body on top of his, a sleepy smile filling your face, eyes closed peacefully. You hummed contentedly, finding comfort pressed against his beefy torso as his one arm wrapped around your shoulders, the other hiking your knee up for you to toss your leg over his slim waist. Your head settled on his shoulder, nearly face-to-face with him, just in time for the final countdown.

Both of your gleaming smiles matched each other when the ball dropped and you lifted yourself up to kiss him, lips dancing slowly, reverently. There was no longer a rush. The two of you could just enjoy each other as you rang in the new year with a definite bang.

As you pulled away, gasping for air, you resettled yourself down with your ear right over Jake’s heart, your hand moving to idly rub over his belly as the two of you watched confetti fall over Times Square on the screen.

“Got any resolutions, babe?” you slurred.

Jake blew out a contemplative breath, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as his fingertips teased up and down your arm. He clicked his tongue in thought, “Maybe presenting the suggestion to you that we take the square root of the year and do that many orgasms instead from here on out. That way in 2064, when we’re old and wrinkly, we’ve only gotta do eight. And in 2081, our frail bones can settle for nine.”

You laughed along with his warm chuckle that rumbled his chest and nodded. “Good idea, Jakey.”

Bonus A/N: My life’s dream is to drain Jake’s body like this. Thank you.

Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly @mercurial-chuckles @steviebbboi @thiquefunlover63

[texaschainsawmascara]

Downtown, ep 13

[belltherad]

i love you legend i love you labyrinth i love you princess bride i love you return to oz i love you dark crystal i love you the neverending story i love you hook

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Overtime 11

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss, Mr. Hansen, runs you ragged but you find solace in an unexpected friend.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, Jake Jensen.

Author’s Note: This one is dedicated to my dearest @thezombieprostitute

Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

Mr. Hansen is right. Your legs are long. Too long. The short skirt makes you feel gawky and overexposed. The tight halter does little to make up for that and the visor around your head can’t hide your shame.  

As he climbs out of the golf cart, you do the same. You cross your arms and stay to the side as he goes to the back of the cart and peruses his bag of clubs. He peers out across the green then back to the collection. He hooks his finger under a hooked foot and slides the club free.  

He slips the cover off and turns the club. He looks at you and smirks as he approaches. 

“How about a personal lesson, Critter? Give you the what about before you get creamed?” He boasts. 

You shrug and drop your arms.  

“Sir,” you agree without agreeing. 

He grabs a tee and a ball and pokes the former into the grass. He waves you over and you approach reluctantly. He flutters his fingers with impatience and reaches for you. He takes your arm and moves you in front of him. 

“Alright, set your feet,” he kicks your shoes and you put your soles flat. “And you wanna push your shoulders back.” 

He reaches around you with the club and guides your hands around it. He squeezes his grip over yours. He’s flush to his back, his breath fanning on your shoulder, as he moves your body with his. 

“Loosen up a bit, swing with your whole body,” his voice is low and silty, not his usual snarl. He leads you in a swing, “twist,” he raises the club, “and follow through.” 

You do your best to let him take control. You’re not exactly listening. You just want this over with. If you give him what he wants, he’ll get bored. That’s the way it is. 

You twitch as he presses his pelvis against your butt. Your lips part but you don’t say anything. It’s nothing. You’re sensitive because you’re not used to so much skin. When he’s done you move away with the club. 

“Ladies first,” he winks, “all yours.” 

He gestures to the ball and you move towards you. You stare down at the dimpled ball, happy he can’t see your face. You don’t care where you hit it. Just hit it. 

You reset your feet like he said. You shift your hips as you hold the club on your own, measuring the weight and balance in your hands. He points out the hole, “somewhere over there, sweetheart.” 

You ignore the pet name and bite your lip. You pull the club up and back and swing through, twisting with the motion. You keep your feet in place as the club meets the ball and you lose track of it as it goes zooming off into the distance. 

Silence. You step back and turn to Mr. Hansen. You hold out the club as he squints into the sky. “Huh.” 

“Is it your go, sir?” You ask as you wiggle the club. 

“Yeah...” he utters and snatches the club. 

He lines up and makes his shot. His ball goes to the left of yours. He tilts his head but doesn’t comment. You’re not sure who’s closer. He spins and shoves the club at you. You take it and put it back in the bag. He’s already behind the wheel of the cart. 

You climb in next to him and fall into the seat as he steps on the gas. You jostle next to him, holding the side to keep from sliding completely across the seat. He reaches over with one hand to steady you, clasping down on your knee. 

You flinch and look down at his hand. The little dots on his glove are rough. As he keeps his grip on the wheel, his touch slowly works up your thigh. You squeak and latch onto his wrist. 

“Mr. Hansen.” 

“Making sure you don’t fall out,” he snickers. “I’d say you’re falling out enough.” 

He slows as he looks over at you, his eyes aimed at the deep vee of the halter. 

“Sir,” your curl your shoulders in. 

“Ah, come on,” he slaps your leg, “it’s a day out of the office. You should be fucking ecstatic.” He rolls the wheel and you lean into him without meaning too. “I’m sure you got all the eligible bachelors lined up and ready to take you out shopping, huh?” 

“Uh, Mr. Hansen, thanks, but uh--” 

“I’m sure Jake loves taking you to the comic store, huh?” 

“Sir, I... Jensen is a co-worker--” 

“Seems real fucking cozy to me. Critter, I know those beady eyes aren’t blind. The way that man drools at your desk,” he tuts, “I need you focused.” He snaps his fingers in front of your face. “Remember who you work for.” 

“Mr. Hansen, I wouldn’t--” 

“You wouldn’t do anything I don’t tell you to do. I know that,” he slaps his hand back on your thigh, higher, right at the edge of your skirt. “Not like last night when you walked out on me.” 

You squirm as his fingers caress your sensitive skin. You never realised how sensitive that part of your leg is. You lean back against the seat and squeak. 

“Sir, please, slow down,” you beg as the car bounces. 

“I told you, you should show these off,” he squeezes your leg. “You can’t even take good advice. You come in dressed like some retiree. You got too much ass for that.” 

“Sir,” you beg and nudge his arm. “This isn’t professional--” 

“What’s not professional,” he slams on the brakes and you lurch forward, his hand slipping up your skirt. You squeal and close your legs around his hand. “Is you fucking flirting with that Big Bang Theory fuck on my pay.” 

“But, Mr. Hansen,” you grab onto his forearm, “I didn’t--” 

“Heard about your trip to IT this morning. Think I don’t know what the fuck is up,” he pinches you and you whine. “You’re getting uppity, Critter. I see it. I tasted it in my fucking coffee.” He rips his hand away and shoves you off the seat. 

You land on the grass with a helpless flail. He gets out and grabs a club from the bag as he rounds the cart. He strides around as he spins it then steadies it, putting it just below your chin. 

“Lucky for you, I’m a spit kinda guy. I just usually don’t partake outside the bedroom,” he puts his cleats on your chest as he pins you on your back. “So, critter, let’s get this straight. Where you are right now, in the dirt, that’s where you belong. So, stop fucking with me.” 

You stare up at him, horrified as the spikes on his shoes bite through the shirt and your skin. 

“Mr. Hansen--” 

“And the next time you talk to that jizzhole, I’ll have my nine iron ready to knock his block off. Got it?” 

“Ow, please--” 

“No, you say it. Say ‘yes, Mr. Hansen.’” 

You writhe and dig your heels into the grass as his cleats sink in further and he pushes your chin up with the club. 

“Yes, Mr. Hansen,” you whimper. 

[awolfswill]

Miss Piggy and Kermit sitting on a tree!

[n0seblood]

gelfling doodles, the bottom is supposed to be a drenchen who sails with the sifa. their gills would be perfect for seafaring!

[your-super-paper-grandma]

💖 Helping Mama Deet with the chores 💖

[thriftrescue]

Fraggles are BACK!!!! seen locally at Kroger!

and Red is HORRIFIED !!!!!!!!!! Wembley! what did you DO!?????

[xxviviennevincentxx]

MTV'S Downtown (1999)

[erksome]

🐸💚

[thefugitivesaint]

Bruce McNally, ''Labyrinth - The Storybook Based On The Movie'', 1986 Source

[texaschainsawmascara]

Downtown, ep 13