#doe eyed fucking top me please energy

[ex0rin]

📸 Jack-Quaid.com

[ex0rin]

Hi. I need a list of these older men though I personally like to imagine that they're just nameless one-offs in dirty alleyways (his fave) and there's not a ton of older men in showbiz overlap (except for Karl Urban because of course that must have happened)

Literally every "professional" photo of his gives me whore behaviour vibes - I need to chew my arm off about these photos again brb

re your tags on the JQ post - yeah... yeah you get it. definitely brat who knows he'll get away with it energy in that photo-set 👌

He really lays it on thick with all these abandoned building/sidewalk editorials 😩 he does that for his fans and also the many older men he has seduced over the years.

He's the definition of I'm gonna fuck that old man, it's his motto. That wholea innocent ingenue doe eyed thing is just one of many tactics, he's got nerdy and enthusiastic too, and this example here of "whore behavior". He's bout it bout it. Lol.

[thegoogoomuckkk]

breakfast, lunch, & dinner pt. 1 -> the jjk men tend to have a healthy appetite when it comes to you -> choso kamo, kento nanami, kiyotaka ijichi, sukuna ryomen, toji fushiguro

choso maybe does a little bit too much research. he’s heard that some women don’t necessarily like getting head as much as other things. he can’t fathom this because you sucking his dick is about the most pleasurable thing he can think of besides being stuffed inside your cunt. regardless, he wants to do his very best to make sure this is as pleasurable for you as it is for him; he’s just so concerned he’ll do a bad job. & it makes no difference how much you assure him that “you don’t have to if you don’t want to, sweetie,” & that even if he does do a bad job, you won’t be upset. no, that only encourages him that he needs to make this as good as possible. so when he finally makes up his mind, he’ll let you know as straightforward as usual, probably a text that has you choking on your coffee at 10:00am: “i want to eat you out tonight y/n.” straight to the point, as usual. & of course you’re excited, but a swirl of nervousness begins coiling in your stomach. last time he had his head between your thighs, he was there for hours. 

he doesn’t like it when you talk, especially coherently, that means he’s not doing his job. “faster? but when i go faster with my cock you cry. . .” “it feels good right, baby? am i doing good?” “shhh, s’okay, know you can cum for me again, pretty girl, don’t you wanna cum? i love it when you cum on my tongue, just for me.”

he tries to praise you, mimic the sweet things you say to him when you’re jerking him off or riding his cock, but he’s almost as fucked out as you are, & the praise never seems to sound as good spilling from his lips as it does from yours—at least, that’s what he thinks. but his soft spoken, sweet words cause your cunt to pulse against his tongue, so he tries for you anyways; tries anything, because if it gets you off, makes you feel even a fraction as good as you make him feel, he’s more than willing to do it!

he’s the type to eat you out until he loses track of time, cumming in his own pants once or twice, he doesn’t even need to put his cock in you. & it isn’t until you’re cross-eyed, sweaty, voice hoarse, & crying for him that he even considers stopping. “did it feel good?” if you had any energy, you’d smack him upside the head. 

if you were to ask nanami what his favorite thing to do in bed was, it would be–hands-down, without a doubt, easily—eating you out. of course, he’s a service top until the day he dies, but it’s more than that; he genuinely derives pleasure from making you feel good. after a long day of work, he comes home exhausted, bags under his eyes, muscles sore, & you’re thinking what you could do to make him feel better: a nice shower, a massage, & maybe—if he’d let you—sucking his dick. you’re pretty pleased with yourself about this little plan until you’ve got him in the bedroom, heading to the bathroom to turn on the shower & he’s tugging on your arm, pulling you down on the bed & wordlessly working off your pants. 

“kento? don’t you wanna shower first?” 

he shakes his head, “need to taste you, sweetheart, need it.” 

he hooks his arms under your knees, pulling your legs up & over his broad shoulders, making himself comfortable, in for the long haul.

his favorite is when you’ve sat down on him, hands gripping the headboard, mindlessly grinding against his face, chasing your own pleasure, head empty.  you feel bad sometimes, sitting on his face, or grinding your cunt against him, squeezing your thighs around his head, pulling his hair, but if anything, this adds to his enjoyment of it. he could sit with his head between your legs for as long as you’ll let him, & you always let him because he’s just so damn good at it; you don’t have to tell him what you want, what you need, because he already knows. 

he sticks his tongue into your tight hole, relishing, moaning at the way it spasms around it, working a finger in alongside it, curling it up to that special spot that has you throwing your head back & whining his name. sucking on your clit, almost meanly because he knows, he knows, how overstimulated you are, how it hurts so good. 

“you-you taste so good, pretty girl, s’good, please, n-no, don’t gotta run from it,” kiyotaka whines as you attempt to rock your hips up off the bed, obviously grinding his hips onto the bed, hoping you won’t notice. he’s just so eager, he needs you to cum against his face just one more time. he’s whining like a poor puppy when you pull on his hair. pathetic moans fill the air, & you’re losing it because there’s no technique, no method to the madness, just pure, sheer, utter desperation. & he’s apologizing into your soaking cunt as he ruts into the bed through his orgasm, potentially gaining more pleasure from this than you. it was always so easy to make kiyotaka feel good, just your moans of “more, more, so good, kiyo” had him whining into your pussy, palming his sore dick through his boxers. 

what he lacks in skill, he makes up for in eagerness; eager is the perfect word for the way kiyotaka eats you, tongue lying flat over & over on your slit, tongue slipping in & out of your puckering hole, thumb circling your clit constantly, overwhelming your poor cunt. 

it was rare that sukuna ate you out, not because he doesn’t like it, don’t get it twisted, but it’s so vulnerable of him, & he can’t fully control himself when he’s between your legs. he’s contrastingly gently, savoring every inch of you, alternating between sucking on your thighs, teasing you to no end, & assaulting your clit with his tongue & his fingers. he loves to have your hips in his hands, manhandling you how he wants, fingertips leaving bruises on your waist, growling when you whine out, “w-wait ‘kuna, s’too much,” because “isn’t this what you wanted in the first place?” 

maybe you had wanted this, but you hadn’t expected him to go on for so long. you couldn’t remember a time when you’d seen sukuna have any form of patience, barely even prepping you before bullying his cocks into you, but here he was, taking his time with you, not even worried about his own pleasure, too enchanted by your honeyed pussy, just begging for him. 

he’ll never tell you this, but his favorite time to eat you out is when you’re on your period; he’ll disguise it by saying that it makes your scent stronger, but really he just wants to ease your pain & make you feel better.

god, he’s an asshole. don’t get it wrong, toji loves eating that sweet cunt of yours, but he also loves nothing more than teasing you. he’s got you on your knees, upper body resting on the sheets, pressing the chastest of kisses on your thighs, your folds, hands slowly gripping your ass, spreading it open for him, swirling his tongue around your puckered hole just above your pussy, pushing a finger in even though he knows you’re cunt is aching for him. he’ll get there. . .eventually. 

“nghh—n-no, toji, n-not there,” you whine, trying to pull away from his finger, but he just pushes it in deeper. 

“not there? where d’ya want in then, princess?” & fuck it, he knows where you want it, but he just can’t get over how perfect you are like this: needy, desperate, unabashed. you’re not afraid to beg for what you want. but he doesn’t give you time to ask. “you sure you aren’t just pretending not to like it? ‘cause your pussy clenches every time i put my finger in here.” he laughs meanly, but then he’s sticking his tongue in your pussy, licking fat stripes front to back, spitting on it, shaking his head all up in it. toji likes it when you give him messy head, & so of course he likes to return the favor.

you’re reaching down to rub your clit while he’s taking his sweet time getting you off & then he’s swatting your hand away because you’re gonna take what he gives you or get nothing at all.

no, your honor, i don't believe in writing ooc headcanons. . . did you like it? -> here's my masterlist -> want something more? ask me for it

[grimesgirll]

“fuck, honey. you done yet?”

you shake your disheveled head furiously. “one more, please!”

rick almost collapses right then and there. “did you not cum four times tonight?”

“let’s make it five.” you insist with a kiss.

rick is powerless to do anything but indulge you, knowing you’ll still need more.

“old man’s ‘bout to fall asleep.” daryl chimes in from his spot nearly under the covers next to you and rick.

“just like one more and i’ll be such a good girl.” you plead, all doe eyed.

“fuck.” rick groans and you lift your hips excitedly when you feel him twitch back to life inside of you. he can’t hide the anguish on his face when you slam your hips down onto him, trying to coax him back into pounding you.

“c’mon, rick,” you whine. “ditch the self control for once and fuck me.”

“it’s not self control, sweetheart. it’s a lack of energy.” he reassures you, wincing as you swivel your hips down onto him.

you roll your eyes. this is too slow for you. pouting your lips, your eyes find daryl and suddenly you have an idea.

“fine.” you huff. “guess i’ll just have to hop off and let daryl pound me. if he’s up for it.”

you never had to question if daryl wanted to fuck you into the mattress. it’s a given, which is why rick’s eyes darken and he lets out a sharp breath.

“you sure you wanna start this shit this late at night?”

your eyes widen with delight. you give your naughtiest nod.

“well, i’ll fuck you but you gotta make it up to daryl since you’re dragging him into this.” the constable tells you.

you nod eagerly, offering little resistance when rick and daryl reconfigure you to be perfectly between them on your knees. grinning up at your leader’s best friend, you don’t need to wait for him to free his erection because it’s already at your lips before you even register the status of his bottoms.

taking your time, you kitten lick the girthy cock in front of you. the trail you’re marking with your tongue dips down to the man’s balls. without hesitation, you start your slow ministrations, going back between the two.

“damn,” daryl mutters from above you.

rick spares a glance over top of you to see what you’re up to before finally driving back into your dripping core. the way you’re immediately arching your back forces rick to adopt a more brutal rhythm.

“oh, fuck!” you’re panting.

the man behind you fists a handful of your hair, guiding your mouth from daryl’s balls to the top of his cock again and pushing your head down. “i’m not gonna let you tease, daryl,” he jests, not skipping a beat while you gag on his best friend’s dick in front of him.

daryl just snickers and cranes his head back, enjoying thinking about how he’s not far from coming down your throat one more time tonight.

meanwhile, rick lets go of your head only to deliver a reddening blow to your bottom.

“god,” you moan around daryl.

the brunette rams in and out of your sensitive cunt. you clench when he grazes your cervix. languidly you roll backwards figure eights into him, arching even further into him. you grab a fistful of the slippery sheets in an attempt to ground yourself, clutching them closer when you feel a hand on your clit.

“gonna come all over my cock?”

“of course,” you reply raggedly.

“gonna squeeze me nice and tight?” rick smacks your ass. “i wanna feel you gushin’ on me, honey.”

“yes, sir,” you promise before daryl pulls you back down to bob your head up and down on him.

the bruising grip on the back of your head is your cue.

you finish daryl off as soon as his length is down your throat again. the redneck shivers and buried his hands in your hair right before his orgasm floods your mouth, doing your best to swallow everything as he shallowly thrusts his hips into your face.

“god, you do deserve the pounding, pretty girl.”

once he lets you off of him, you just beam and hold onto him as rick fucks you without abandon.

“you like grindin’ my gears? teasin’ me just so you can get fucked one more time before you go to sleep?” rick punctuates each question with a brutal shift of his hips. “huh, pretty girl?” he moves his hand from your clit to your stomach and forces a hand against your stomach.

“ah!” you bleat at the pressure. “you’re so deep.”

the condescension drops from his tone. “i thought that’s what you wanted, darlin’.”

“i do!” you cry.

“then do what you said you were gonna do and come on my cock.” he commands.

you don’t hold back. the rubber band snaps just right and you keep leaning right into daryl. head against his chest, he and the man viciously fucking you through your undoing are the only things on your mind.

rick’s grasping onto your trembling legs and littering your torso with fingernail marks from how deep he’s digging. the grip he’s maintaining keeps your shuddering body in place when he finally fills you up, tensing and nearly toppling over you.

warm and full, you feel like you’re melting into the soft bed, especially with rick on top of you. he stays like that while daryl is mumbling about a towel and finally getting the hell to sleep. all blissed out, they won’t have to worry about you for at least another few hours.

daryl is the one who jumps to wet a towel and offer the both of you a room temperature water bottle. rick is too preoccupied with keeping you as close as possible. he even stays inside your plush walls until daryl’s almost dragging you off of him to towel between your legs.

“did so good for us, honey.” rick is rasping into your ear, rolling the two of you under the comforter. one of his hands find a place in your hair making you lean into his touch.

“thanks for indulging me.” you express your gratitude with a kiss for rick and a clasp of daryl’s hand, urging the man onto the bed.

“here, put this on,” daryl passes you one of his sleep henleys and a pair of your favorite oversized boxers fresh out of the laundry.

“yeah, and ditch the bra.” rick says in between kisses against your collarbone.

content washes over your face and your bra lands on the floor.

once your top is on and rick’s firmly pressed behind you, you feel yourself start to dissolve into the soft sheet. a hand finds your breast just as daryl gives you a goodnight kiss. you suspect the hand will stay there for most of the night but you don’t mind.

it’s owner nestles his face into your hair, whispering sweet nothings from how well you took his cock to how gorgeous you were, how excited he was to spend his next day off with you.

feeling daryl beside you and rick nearly on top of you has to be one of the coziest feelings in the world.

and you’re right; five orgasms and you were out cold.

[wolftoken]

Ticklish

a/n: my friend needs comfort???? writers block GONE ❌ i love you @pastlives-pastlie

word count: 696 • tags: gn reader, fluff, cuddling, ticklish vessel, ticklish reader

• masterlist •

He’s tired, his head resting heavy in your lap and his eyes half-lidded. His hands are softly kneading your thighs while yours rest in his hair and on his jaw. Absentmindedly you gently massage his scalp, savouring the big sigh he lets out at the feeling. Nuzzling further into you, he brings his arms up to hold your waist and since he’s entirely too tall for the couch, his feet dangle off the edge of the armrest but he couldn’t care less because all he can think about is you, your warmth, your softness.

“Should we go to bed?” you whisper, not wanting to break the gentle atmosphere. Vessel doesn’t respond, just tightens his grip on your waist. You bring your hands down to cup his jaw so you can get him to look up at you, and his eyes shine softly in the low light and you feel a swarm of butterflies start to take flight in your stomach.

“You’re comfy,” is all he can muster. His voice is quiet and monotone like he can’t summon the energy to speak properly. He does this every time you end up cuddling on the couch late at night when he has to rearrange all his limbs in order to get comfortable and you know he’d be complaining about a sore neck or back tomorrow morning if you stay here. But getting him off of you is a challenge in and of itself, especially if he’s sleepy and unwilling to move.

“You can lay on me all night if you come to bed, Ves. But you’re gonna be sore tomorrow if we stay here.”

“M’warm. Bed’s cold,” is his reply, muffled by the way his face is pressed into you.

You sigh, but a smile creeps its way onto your face nonetheless. He’s adorable even when he’s being annoying, it’s terrible. How are you supposed to survive in these conditions? He’s draped over you like a big sack of flour with insistent hands. But then you remember one thing that will get him up no matter how cozy the situation is.

Your nimble fingers find themselves at his sides and mercilessly tickle him and the reaction is almost instant.

His gleeful yelping is probably not what the neighbours want to hear at 11:45 at night but they sound so beautiful to you, especially if it’s what gets him up and moving. Only problem is, you forgot he can retaliate. His hands are much bigger than yours and can cover a larger span of sensitive skin and it feels so so good to laugh with him like this even if you can barely breath and you’re both writhing so much you’re sure to fall off the couch in a minute.

“Ves- fuck! I just want you to come to bed! Please-“ you can barely get the words out past the breathless giggling but he understands you just fine.

“Oh really? You want me to come to bed with you after you’ve viciously attacked me and disturbed my peaceful slumber? Hmm?”

Words seem you fail you as his hands find even more skin to tickle, each spot more sensitive than the last and you’re both teary-eyed and red in the face until he stops. You can tell he’s thinking about starting it again when he bites his lip and stifled a giggle, but he refrains, knowing he can get away with more tickling tomorrow when both of you are wide awake.

“Fine, you win. Let’s go to bed,” he smiles, begrudgingly getting up from on top of you and pulling you with him. He sees your hands creep down to his ribs and the mischievous smile on your face and raises his eyebrow at the sight.

“You’ve fallen victim to my hands once, you will fall again,”

“You talk like some sixteenth century knight sometimes,” you reply, retreating your ready-to-attack hands and opting to hold his instead.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now come to bed or you’ll fall asleep on the couch,” he grins.

“You are awful!” you laugh, following closely behind him to your bedroom. You should definitely wake up him with more tickling tomorrow.

[builtbybrokenbells]

The Green-Eyed Monster

After a particularly shitty day, refuge in alcohol seems like the best option to help Jake recover from his poor mood. Y/n, his long time girlfriend joins him and his bandmates at the bar with high hopes to salvage the night. Jealousy, which had never been in Jake’s vocabulary, makes its first groundbreaking presence and laughs at its own disastrous effects.

Pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader

Word count: 17k (oops 🤭)

Warnings: SMUT 18+ (actual filth), unprotected sex (wrap it), borderline hate-fucking, rough sex, oral (m!receiving), oral (f!receiving), fingering, dom/sub, degradation, name-calling, slapping, spanking, overstimulation, forced orgasm, touch of bratty sub, biting, mutual masturbation, praise, pet-names, swearing, jealousy, possessiveness, drinking, toxic themes, angst (with a happy ending, pinky promise), arguments, probably definitely missed some, sorry!!

Here’s some filthiness with a touch of toxicity and angst because my last few posts were a bit too sweet 🥰 had to switch it up somehow. got a little carried away with this bad boy. had to cut some out cause i got too into it, so if it seems a little fast paced at the end, please keep that in mind! just couldn’t stop myself. it’s long, smutty, intense and does end well, i promise 😃 also very poorly proof-read cause i can’t sleep and decided to post this tonight instead of tomorrow, so please be nice. as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🫶🏻

also, side note: all of the love I’ve received for Picasso has made my heart incredibly happy. I was very nervous posting it, and you guys really eased my worry. I appreciate you all dearly, your kindness makes me want to keep writing ♥️

~

Jake was in a terrible mood, and there was no doubt about that. Perhaps in the beginning, the idea of a lighthearted night at the bar was intriguing; something to take his mind off his mistakes in the studio earlier that morning, and hopefully to make up for his and Josh’s incessant bickering. It didn’t take long for that idea to turn sour in his mind, too. By the time you both realized it wasn’t going to brighten his spirits, you were already clad in a miniskirt and low cut body suit, hanging over the bar-top to tip the bartender. He thought it best to keep his mood to himself and just try to enjoy the sight of you all dressed up. It worked for a while; the tension remained minimal due to his hand permanently anchored to your hip, reminding him of all he had to be grateful for.

Once he’d gotten a few drinks into him, the familiar smile you loved so much started to grace his lips. The tension in his shoulders melted slightly, leaving him lax against the back of the dirty bar booth. His protective grip around your waist had turned into a loose hang over your shoulders, gently guiding you into his side with a loving undertone. Every so often, he even managed a laugh at his brothers antics, leaving you to believe the night may still be saved. But, only to your trained eye, you could still notice the cloud of irascible energy in his eyes.

You were quite certain that when he’d arrived back to your shared home earlier that day, the bedroom would never recover from the shock of the pornographic scene. You’d been able to pick up on his frustration through limited texts, only to have the speculation solidified when you finally caught sight of the expression on his face as he walked through the front door. When it never came, an uneasiness settled in your stomach. Jake’s favourite method of stress-relief was fucking you, which was always quite fine by you. Knowing that he still had all of the pent up anger left you conscious of the fact the night was teetering on a thin line; if it went well, no harm nor foul. If not, you were going to have to plan ahead for a rest and recovery period.

You were more than shocked when your long-term boyfriend pitched the idea of joining his brothers at the bar. In his ill-temper, he usually turned into a bit of a recluse. But, you thought it best to go along with the idea. If he thought it would cheer him up, you were happy to oblige, and never complained about seeing his band mates. They’d turned into the best of friends over the years, and they were your favourite company to keep aside from Jake. You opted to believe it couldn’t be the worst idea in the world. So that’s where you ended up: sitting in a bar booth with Jake wrapped around you and laughing alongside the other three boys.

They’d picked a small bar that you all frequented. It had low traffic and strong drinks to keep spirits high. There were dart boards, pool tables, complimentary table peanuts and some slot machines if you ever decided to try your luck. They kept a steady stream of dad rock flowing through the sound system when the karaoke wasn’t open to the public, and the bartenders had grown into acquaintances over the months of regular visits. If you were to go to any bar, this was the perfect one to choose. You all had yet to have a bad experience, aside from an occasional wandering hand from a too-drunk regular, or a drunken snide comment that was easily brushed off. The night was destined to be good, assuming Jake was kept in good spirits.

You picked up a shelled peanut, cracking the soft exterior with your thumb. You took one half of the shell and placed it on your napkin, and took the other one and tossed it across the booth. It hit Sam in the side of the head, as he was turned to speak to Danny who was beside him. He whipped his head towards you, the soft thud of the impact catching his attention. He immediately knew the culprit, as you’d been doing it intermittently the entire time you’d been there. You gave him a sweet smile, one filled with innocence, as if to say you would never do such a thing. His accusatory stare made it difficult to hold back laughter. He picked up the shell, which had fallen anticlimactically to the table, and tossed it back in your direction. It bounced off your chin and dropped down into your shirt, causing an eye roll from you. Sam pointed a finger at you, a silent warning not to do it again. You picked it from your cleavage and placed it with the rest of the waste atop the napkin. You vowed to leave him alone, just long enough for him to forget about it, then strike again.

Josh, who was caught in conversation with his twin brother, suddenly smacked his palms against the tabletop, catching you by surprise and making you jump. You turned your attention to him, eager to know what the disturbance was about. “Drinks!” He announced. “One for you, brother dearest?” He asked Jake. He gave him a nod. Josh’s eyes trailed to your glass, noticing the liquid threatening the end and muddled with melted ice. “And for you, pretty lady?” He asked, flashing a smile. Nobody else noticed, but Jake’s eye gave a small twitch, and his jaw clenched at the term of endearment.

“Another Mojito, please.” You grinned, not willing to pass up an offer of a free drink. He had no worries buying them for you. You and Josh had been playing the same game for half a decade; he’d do something nice for you, and you’d hit him back with something even better the next time. The timeless battle had begun after you both had realized arguments of payments and repayments were getting you nowhere. Jake had found it endearing, never a worry in his mind about anything non-platonic. He trusted you with his life, as he did with Josh. He was more than happy that you were so close with his brothers, and would be the first to speak up if he were uncomfortable. But, the war had gone to extremes by times, ranging from signed albums from big music names they’ve met, to rarity collectors editions of his absolute favourite films. If the tally was still running, the amount of money and thought you’d put into each other would be unfathomable.

You looked over to your boyfriend, picking up on the sullen attitude once more. He caught your eye and you gave him an inquisitive look, but he just shook his head. You thought it best not to push him, instead leaning over to place a kiss on his cheek. Before you pulled away, he turned and gave you a real kiss, holding you there for a moment. When he pulled back, he gave you a small smile. You felt your nerves fizzle away, finding comfort in the small gesture. He was really good with always making sure you knew he wasn’t mad at you while he was generally upset. It was a small, constant reassurance that helped guide you through his occasional short temper.

When Josh returned, he placed everyone’s respective drink in front of them. “Thanks, darlin’.” You smiled, stirring the drink with your straw. You took a sip, a hum of gratitude immediately sounding from you. Mindless chatter ensued for a few moments, nothing of importance being spoken into existence. Then, the music over the speakers started to get louder and the lights were dimmed. The trashy coloured lights surrounding the dance floor flicked on, letting everyone know the time had hit double digits. A familiar note sounded, causing you to perk up instantly. Josh caught your eye, raising his eyebrow and nodding to the open dance area.

Without a second thought, you jumped up, reaching your hand out to him. It was a simple action, one that you’d done thousands of times over the years of you and Jake dating, and it had never been an issue. Jake was not a dancer, and you were sure he never would be. You theorized he may even try to skip out on your first dance at your wedding. Josh, on the other hand, was always happy to pick up the slack in that department.

You were a lighthearted spirit, one who loved fun and didn’t care about wandering eyes or judgment, not caring if your dancing or singing was making a fool of you. It was something that drew Jake to you in the first place, and he loved watching the sparkle in your eye as you lived your life to the fullest. He was usually happy that someone was always willing to dance with you; it ensured you were safe and it gave you someone to share a memory with. He was usually quite encouraging of Josh’s antics, especially because it meant the spotlight was off of him and he wouldn’t have to join you on the dance floor. He would never stop you from enjoying yourself, but certain things, as you’d come to understand, were just not Jake-esque.

That night, the sight of you so close with his brother, singing the song back to each other and him twirling you around, set him on fire. He wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was Josh’s unwavering pet names for you, or the way he always looked at you like he was head over heels for you, or the constant comments of Josh telling him how lucky he was. Or, how it looked like Josh was adding to your light, when in turn, sometimes Jake felt like he dimmed it. Especially on nights like that one, in particular, when he was perpetually angry and wasn’t sure how to shake it off. Or, maybe Jake was still pissed off at Josh’s critique and jabs at the studio when Jake was struggling to play his solos. Whatever it was, for the first time in his life, he was jealous of you and Josh. If looks could kill, his twin brother would have been on the floor.

“You okay?” Sam asked, picking up on Jake’s glare in the direction of the dance floor. His jaw was hard-set, knuckles white from the grip on his glass. Jake turned to face his younger brother, breaking out of the trance he’d found himself stuck in.

“Yeah.” Was all he replied, taking a long drink from his cup.

“It’s just Josh and y/n, they’ve always been like that. You’ve got nothing to worry about, brother.” Sam tried to ease the tension.

“Have they, though?” Jake snipped back, almost immediately. “Like that?” Sam and Danny looked towards you both, studying your actions for a moment. Eventually, they shrugged and gave a nod.

“Yeah.” Sam said, not finding anything out of the ordinary. “Come on, man. Josh would never do that to you, and neither would she. Y/n’s been head over heels for you since the day you met her.” Jake sent a look of warning to his sibling, silently telling him to stop trying to make the situation better. Jake knocked back the last of his drink, letting the bottom of the glass fall back on the table with a thud. Without another word, he stood and went to the bar.

As he waited for the bartender to fix his next drink, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander back over to you. He expected you both to filter back to the booth when the song ended, but the next tune caught your attention, too. Josh had his hand on your hip, and yours was loosely hung around his neck. You were close to him, but not provocatively close. Still, to Jake, it was more than enough to get his blood boiling. You were laughing at him singing the lyrics to you, swaying your hips in time to the beat. Even in his jealousy, he couldn’t help but admire your beauty. The wrinkles forming in the corner of your eyes, the radiant grin, the way your hair cascaded down and framed your face. He thought you were breathtaking, and for once, he was envious he wasn’t up dancing with you, instead.

He hadn’t realized the song had ended until you presented yourself in front of him, breathless and buzzing with joy. He felt himself soften slightly when you wrapped your arm around his midsection and leaned into him. “Hi, handsome.” He could tell you were tipsy; he could hear it in your words. He let his hand fall from his drink, bringing it to your face and running his thumb over your cheek. The anger seemed to melt away as soon as you touched him, and he was fully engrossed in your presence. The thought of you dancing with Josh became a distant memory to him as soon as you stood on your tip-toes and placed a kiss on his lips. “What’s wrong?” You whispered, concern thick in your voice. He looked down at your face, not knowing exactly how to answer.

“I… I’m okay.” He assured you, leaning down for another kiss. He realized he may have been a bit irrational, especially now that you were with him, showing him ten times more affection than you were with his brother.

“You can talk to me, honey.” You pried just a little, hoping he might open up. He snaked his free hand around your waist, letting it rest dangerously low on your back.

“Think I just needed a kiss.” He brushed your concern off, but you could still sense the indifference in his voice.

“Whatever you say.” You hummed, turning towards the bar. He kept his hand on your lower back, but turned with you. He grabbed his drink and sipped at it while you caught the bartenders attention. He rushed over, giving you a smile.

“Mojito?” He asked. You nodded enthusiastically, happy he remembered your order. He grabbed all of the ingredients, making small talk with you while he made your drink. “You’ve got some good dance moves.” He complimented. You let out a small laugh.

“Thanks, the really good ones only come out when I’m drinking.” You joked.

“We’ll have to keep them coming your way, then.” He said, placing the new cup in front of you. “There you go, beautiful.” The fire that had died down in Jake reignited as if the bartender had poured a gallon of gasoline on it. You noticed his grip on you tightened, and when you looked up you saw the tension of the muscles in his jaw. Jake grabbed his wallet and pulled out a bill. He threw it on the counter and guided you away before you could respond. You looked up at him, noticing the vibration of anger in his hands.

“Jake, what is going on with you?” You only let him lead you away so far before planting your feet on the ground, forcing him to stop with you. He turned his head towards you, eyes filled with an emotion you had never really seen from him before.

“Me?” He snapped. You recoiled at the harshness of his voice. You could see him soften a bit, but he was still ablaze with whatever he was feeling. “You’re all over Josh up there, and then you flirt with the bartender in front of me and I’m what? Just supposed to sit there and watch?”

“What?” You were certain you couldn’t have given him a look more bewildered than the one you were giving him, then. “Did me dancing with Josh bother you?” He didn’t respond, but his eyes did dart away from you. “Jake, I just… we always dance together. I didn’t really think… I’m sorry.”

“Fuck, no, y/n. I’m sorry.” He sighed, rubbing his face with his hand and pushing his hair back. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I know it’s not like that. I’m just in a shitty mood, and I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

“We can go home, baby.” You offered, making sure he knew you were okay with that, too.

“No, you’re having a good time. I just need to loosen up a bit, I guess.” He let out a small chuckle, one that was barely noticeable.

“I’d have just as good of a time at home, alone, with you,” you leaned up to his head, lips inches away from his ear “in bed, naked.” His arm around you tightened, pulling you into him slightly.

“Careful,” he warned. You placed a kiss to the sensitive area just below his ear, lingering there for a moment.

“Just so you know, the bartender could only have me in his dreams.” You whispered before you pulled away. “I go home to you, remember?” His lips upturned into a smug smile.

“Get over there and keep drinking,” he ordered “before I have to take you to the bathroom.” The look in his eye led you to believe he wasn’t joking. You felt a blush creep up to your cheeks, taken off guard by the bluntness of the statement. He gave you a wink, subtle enough to go unnoticed, but obvious enough to send a rush of arousal straight to your core. “Don’t get too drunk, though. I’ve got a long night planned for you.” He promised, placing a delicate kiss to the top of your head, as if the words he said weren’t laced with filth.

You joined his brothers back at the booth, both of you sliding in as if nothing happened. Jake resumed his earlier position, slinging an arm around your shoulder. His whole aura was much lighter than it was a few moments before. As the boys divulged into conversation, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to your interaction with Jake. He wasn’t a jealous person; in fact, you couldn’t recall a time off the top of your head where he had been. You’d been dating him for just over five years, knowing him better than anyone else. He could be slightly possessive at times, and even that was rare, but he was never outright jealous. Above all else, he was protective of you. He was always quite comfortable with the fact that you were his, and nobody stood a chance. At the same time, you’d never given him a reason to believe otherwise, because there was none. You were hopelessly in love with Jake, and always had been. To you, no other boy existed in that sense. He was everything you needed, and beyond that. Still, the idea of him radiating with jealousy sparked something inside of you. It was new, intense, and admittedly, very hot.

You shook the thought away, realizing it was not the best time to be thinking about how attractive you thought he was. You were broken from your thoughts when the volume at the table heightened. You looked up to see Sam and Danny locked in an arm-wrestling position. Josh had his hand on his brothers shoulder, encouraging him, while Jake was leaned in to the table slightly, cheering Danny on. You couldn’t help the laughs that you let out, finding the whole scene boyish and amusing. After a few moments of struggle, Danny took the win and pinned Sam’s arm down to the table. Jake let out a triumphant noise, removing his arm from your shoulder to reach across the table and giving Danny a congratulatory high-five.

“Pay up.” he said to Josh, now holding out his hand to his twin. Josh rolled his eyes, but fished his wallet out of his pocket and grabbed a twenty, sliding it across the table. Jake grabbed it, a smug smirk on his lips, and put it in his own. The betting war between the brothers was uncontrollable. They loved to put money on the stupidest of things, and when there was nothing pre-existing to bet on, they made something up. It was never about the dollar amount, more so just bragging rights.

Jake rested against the booth again, the satisfaction of winning giving him some momentary cockiness. Instead of returning his arm around you, he let his hand rest on your thigh under the table. You did your best to keep your expression the same, trying not to focus on the warmth of his palm on your exposed skin. His fingers drifted under your skirt, slowly making their way between your legs. He let his hand rest stop there for a moment, not wanting to push you too much. “So, y/n,” Josh started, catching you off guard. You looked up to meet his eyes. “I think that pool table is calling our name.”

“Rematch from last time?” You joked, raising an eyebrow.

“Redemption is a better word.” He corrected.

“And if I beat you again?”

“You won’t.” He dismissed you, not even considering the possibility. “But, if on some off chance you do, dinner is on me the next time we go out.”

“You said that last time.” You teased. “No originality.” You let out a small tsk. He feigned a look of offence. The conversation was allowing you to take your mind off Jake’s wandering hand.

“Fine, what’s your idea?” He conceded.

“I don’t have a better one, I just like making fun of you.” You shrugged. “Anyone else care to join?” You asked the rest of the table. There was a mutter of agreements and nods. Josh slid out of his seat first, followed by Sam and Danny. Jake was hesitant to move his hand from your leg, holding you there for a moment. You turned your head to look at him, giving him an inquisitive look.

“Better not keep him waiting.” Jake murmured, looking over your face. Your breath caught in your throat as he moved his hand up a little further, fingers inches away from your underwear. “What’s wrong?” He asked, a small smirk playing on his lips.

“Behave yourself, Jacob.” You said, your lips upturned into a smile, too.

“Mhm, careful.” He gave the same warning as earlier. You knew very well that in every sense, he was always going to be in charge when it came to anything bedroom related. Still, it always proved fun to push his buttons. He pulled his hand away, ushering you out of the booth. As you stood, he delivered a quick smack to your ass. You let out a gasp, quickly looking around to see if anyone noticed. When you found you were in the clear, you gave him a glare over your shoulder. “Love you.” He said, smiling in response to your reaction.

Instead of answering, you began to walk away. He made a mental note, ensuring he would get you to say it, later. He followed you as you made your way to the pool table, where you both noticed that your company had picked up some extras. There were three new faces, two girls and a boy. “Ah, thanks for finally deciding to join us!” Sam bellowed as you walked up beside him. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side, in a very annoying younger brother type of way. You rolled your eyes, attempting to wiggle your way out of his grip.

“Who’s your new friends, Sammy? Had to find some people who don’t know enough about you to make fun of you, yet?” He let you go with a dramatic, but light, push.

“Get out of my face,” he said, a smirk on his lips.

“You love me.” You nudged him with your elbow.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Your eyes turned towards the new faces, taking in the sight. Both girls looked quite similar, and the guy was nothing like the boys you’d come to the bar with. He was tall, had short, blonde hair and bright eyes. “I don’t know their names. Josh started talking to them.” Sam shrugged.

“Figures,” you laughed, knowing all too well how much of a social butterfly he could be. Jake was standing behind you and Sam, opting to stay out of the conversation. Eventually, when Josh caught sight of you, he waved you over. You joined him, allowing him to introduce you to his new friends. The girls were friendly enough, but didn’t particularly stick out as memorable in your mind. The guy was nice, too, but his wandering eyes were very noticeable and very uncomfortable. “Nice to meet you all.” You addressed them all together.

“So, is this your girlfriend?” The guy asked Josh, which produced a booming laugh from both of you. Jake, on the other hand, did not find the question very funny. And he found Josh’s answer even less tasteful.

“A man can dream,” Josh sighed, humour clearly laced in his tone. You smacked his arm, chuckling at the thought. “Unfortunately, just my best friend, my confidante, my partner in crime,” he paused, looking over to you. “Soulmate?”

“Too far,” you warned, but couldn’t help the smile that broke on your face. You knew he was drunk, just by the formulation of his words. The statement itself was nothing out of the ordinary; Josh loved teasing Jake, although he never really managed to bother him with it. That night, though, was an entirely different story. Every word that Josh spoke seemed to piss him off even more.

“So you’re on the market then?” The unfamiliar boy asked. Your eyes widened, shocked at the bluntness of his question. That seemed to be Jake’s breaking point, as he pushed through Danny and Sam to join the conversation. His arm snaked around your waist in an instant, the familiar feeling immediately comforting you.

“Absolutely not.” His tone was firm, but not threatening. When you looked up to see his face, you were certain that if his expression were rewritten in a comic, that would be the scene where smoke was coming from his ears.

“Ah, sister-in-law was probably a good descriptor, too.” Josh said, giggling at his brother. Jake shot him a glare in response.

“Sorry, man. Promise I didn’t mean any harm.” The boy raised his hands in defence, showing Jake he wasn’t trying to start anything. Jake calmed slightly, nodding in understanding.

“I think a game of pool will certainly lighten the mood!” Josh announced, drawing the attention away from the tense moment. He grabbed a cue from the rack on the wall, breaking up the group. The boy who you couldn’t really remember the name of followed Josh, leaving you and Jake to yourselves for a moment. The two girls were chattering amongst themselves, completely uninvolved in the situation.

“Soulmates, eh?” Jake looked down at you, a look of annoyance on his face.

“Jake,” you warned, giving him a pointed look. “If this is because I’m upsetting you in some way, let’s go and talk about it. If it’s just because you’re in a bad mood, quit it.” You told him. You weren’t mad at him, but you weren’t willing to be chastised all night when the root of the issue didn’t even begin with you. He’d never once had an issue with the nature of your’s and Josh’s relationship. The surfacing of his anger on a night where he’d already been upset seemed to be an indication that he wasn’t solely upset at Josh’s words, but more in general. He wasn’t the best at processing his emotions, and tended to direct them at smaller situations to avoid dealing with the main issue.

A note of apology flashed in his eyes at your words. Before he could answer, you broke away from him to grab a cue for yourself. He watched you, feeling a fizzle of regret form in his chest. You weren’t acting any different than any other night, but for some reason he couldn’t seem to shake the feeling from himself. He was too deep into his miserable mood to break out of it, now. He was pulled from his thoughts when Sam called him over to the pool table next to the one you and Josh were playing on.

Josh had started the game, fully keeping your attention on the table rather than Jake’s sour mood. Sam and Jake had started their own game, eventually joined by Danny and one of the girls from Josh’s new posse of friends. The guy had moved on to try his luck with another group of people, clearly only at the bar in attempt to get laid. The second girl was hovering around the other part of your group, watching the game with intensity. You tried not to notice, but every so often her eyes would drift and land on Jake. You shook off the distraction, zoning back in on your own game. You lined up your cue with the cue ball, and shot at a solid ball. It rolled in flawlessly, and you moved on to the next.

“Cheater,” Josh grumbled as he watched your next ball sink, too.

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game.” You shrugged.

“Could never hate you, mama. Just strongly dislike you.” He gave you a cheeky smile. You gave him a scoff of disbelief, knowing for certain there was no world to exist where Josh would dislike you, or anyone, for that matter.

When your turn finished, you stepped back to observe his. As he lined up his shot, your eyes drifted over to the table next to you, finding Jake and Sam laughing at a joke one of the girls had spewed out. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to look away from Jake’s smiling face, trying not to focus on it. But, in the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but think about how that was the happiest he looked all night. As much as you wanted to be annoyed at him for questioning your loyalty, you couldn’t find it within yourself. Yet, anyway. The sight produced more sadness than anything else. You swallowed your insecurity, chalking it up to you overthinking the situation.

The night carried on, the empty glasses piling up by the pool tables, and your inhibitions greatly diminished. You and Jake had silently made the agreement to steer clear of each other in avoidance of a blowout at the bar. You stuck with Josh, bouncing from pool, to darts, and even the dance floor a few times. Jake found himself constantly engrossed in the nameless bimbo that had taken an interest in him. Somewhere between drink seven and double digits, you’d both engaged in undiscussed competition to see who could piss the other off, more. When the clock neared twelve, the karaoke section of the bar opened up. After picking up another beverage at the bar, Josh was pulling you in the direction of the stage.

He put the songs in, shutting down your inquiries and telling you it was a surprise. When you both got on stage and grabbed a mic, Jake was seething before the first note of the song played. “Seriously, Josh?” You laughed as the name of the song flashed across the screen.

“Come on! It was a good choice.” He grinned.

“You’re trying to start shit.” Still, even as you scolded him, his drunken delight was incredibly entertaining.

“He’s being an asshole,” he said, making sure his mouth was away from the mic. “I’m sure he’s trying to do the same thing with her.” His eyes floated in the direction of his twin, who now had his arm hung loosely over the other girls shoulders, similar to his hold on you earlier in the night. Red flashed in your eyes, but instead of lingering, you turned to Josh, no longer worried about the choice of music.

“Let’s give a performance of a lifetime.” Was all you replied. He smiled, happy you were on the same page. You both divulged into the song, very dramatically singing the words to ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart’ by Elton John.

By the end of the song, you had almost completely forgotten about Jake by the pool table. You weren’t sure if it was because of the liquor in your system, or the sheer amount of fun you were having. You were still a bit breathless by the time Josh’s second choice lit up the screen. This one, although not a duet, was probably one of the most venomous choices he could have made. Mixed between Jake’s love for Jimi Hendrix, how often Jake played it and dedicated the song to you, and the connotation of the lyrics, you were surprised Jake didn’t get up on stage and strangle Josh in retaliation. Your eyes widened, looking over at him in concern.

“He’s been mad at me all day, and he’s taking it out on you. Let him be upset, he’s being a dick.” Josh said, his words assuring you that he would take the heat for the song choice. It felt nice to know that Josh also thought Jake was acting out of character; jealousy had never been in his vocabulary, and the toxic game you found yourselves caught in was something you had never done before. You and Jake had barely had more than an argument in your years of dating. The longer it dragged on, the more painful it became. He had a short temper, but you couldn’t recall a time it had ever been pointed at you, let alone caused a spiteful interaction. As much as it was hurting your feelings, it was fuelling an anger within you that you weren’t sure even existed before that night. The liquor and the sour mood didn’t mix, and you should have known that from the beginning, but had no idea it would divulge into anything close to whatever the current situation was.

By that point, all of the boys had caught on to the tense nature. Sam and Danny were baffled that Jake was even willing to put his focus on another girl, let alone his hands. He was nothing if not loyal to you. Usually, his eyes would never even drift to another girl. Everybody was more than aware that he loved you as much as his music, if not more. They were also very aware that you and Josh were acting out of retaliation, fuelling the fire and hoping to get the last dig in and end it for good. The girl remained quite oblivious to the whole affair, just happy to be receiving some of the attention. Sam let out a long exhale as Josh began to sing you the lyrics to ‘Foxey Lady’, him and Danny certain that this was the brutal climax to the entire night. Jake was vibrating with anger, and there was no consolidation when you’d given up your hesitancy and sang it back to him. Sam and Danny shared a look, silently agreeing that they were going to have to put a stop to the situation one way or another before it got too out of hand.

Jake bargained with his temper, deciding on how to respond. Anger would be too easy, and too obvious. So instead, his course of action was the most disastrous one he could think of. Rationality was completely out the window by that point. He grabbed the girls hand, who he still hadn’t learned the name of (and he didn’t really care, quite frankly), and pulled her towards the dance floor. You didn’t notice at first, too caught up in the singing and laughter you were sharing with Josh. Everyone else did, however, and were awaiting the storm that was brewing. At the height of the song, you finally noticed that Josh had become a bit distracted from the performance. You looked to him, realizing he was staring off at the dance floor, and followed his gaze.

You cut off your singing mid-sentence, your heart plummeting to your stomach. Jake was dancing, in midst of twirling around the girl he’d been using as leverage all night. When he pulled her back in, his hand rested on her hip and he gave her a smile. It was a sickening sight for you. You slipped the mic back onto the stand, cautiously stepping off the stage, and headed straight for the door. You threw back the last of the liquid in your cup and set it on an empty table as you passed by. As the door slammed behind you, tears prickled your eyes and a lump began to form in your throat. At the sound of the door, Jake’s head turned to the stage, finally noticing your disappearance. Panic struck him, realizing he’d definitely taken it too far. He caught Josh’s eye, but wasn’t met with any type of reassurance. He’d won the battle, but at too much of a price.

He cut the dance short, not caring about any formalities, and followed hot on your trail. When he got outside, you were already on your way down the street, far clear of the parking lot. He muttered a curse under his breath, and took off in a jog after you. “Y/n!” He called, but you didn’t turn back. You kept your pace steady, hoping that you could make it home before he caught up. Your shared home wasn’t too far away from the bar, only a few minutes by foot. You thought if you could make it there before him, you could regain yourself a bit more. When he realized you weren’t going to slow down, he ran a little faster.

He managed to catch up, grabbing a hold of your hand to stop you from going any further. You tried to shake out of his grip, not willing to make any conversation with him, but he refused to let go. “What?” You finally snapped, turning to look at him. “What do you want, Jake?” He recoiled slightly, never once hearing you speak to him in that tone.

“I…” he trailed off, eyes wide and unsure of what to do.

“You what?” You asked again, tears still falling from your eyes. “Came to tell me all about your new dance partner? I can go get my shit out of the house and you can move her right in, in my place, if she’s so fantastic!”

“I don’t even know her fucking name, y/n.” Jake rolled his eyes, only fuelling your fire even more.

“That’s the point!” You yelled back, finally freeing your hand from his. “You don’t even fucking know her, and you get up and dance with her. It’s been five years and I can’t even get you to do that with me! One hand, Jacob. I can count on one hand how many times you’ve danced with me. I got tired of hearing no, so I stopped asking!”

“Jesus Christ, all of this over a fucking dance? You were practically fucking Josh all night, and I haven’t said a word about it.”

“That’s a lie, but we’ll unpack that later.” You scoffed. “It’s not about a dance, Jake. It’s about effort.”

“Effort? Like I dont give you my entire heart every day?” You opened your mouth to respond, but closed it and proceeded to turn around and walk away. You weren’t willing to have a screaming match in the middle of the street, especially while he was still mad. If there was one thing you knew about Jake, it was that while he was upset, he had very little rationality. “So you’re just going to walk away?” He snapped. You turned on your heels, giving him the dirtiest look you could muster.

“Get in the fucking house. We can talk there.” You pointed in the direction you were walking in. His eyes held the same emotion as yours, but he obliged, anyway. When you saw him start walking towards you, you turned and walked, too. The few minutes it took to get to the house were uncomfortably silent. When you reached the front porch, you unlocked the door and stepped inside. You flicked off the porch light when Jake made his way into the house, too.

You stormed to the kitchen, discarding your purse on the table and throwing your keys beside it. You did your absolute best to make it up the stairs in a stormy fashion while still wearing your heels. You didn’t have much time to gather a thought, because he was hot on your trail. “So what is it, then? If it’s not ‘just about the dancing’?” He mocked you with air quotes, hiking your temper up even more.

“The small things, Jake. Yeah, we wake up to each other every morning, and I get a kiss goodbye, but the small stuff matters. Like dancing. I love to dance, and the only time I’ve ever gotten to dance with you, I had to practically beg you. You’re with some complete stranger, and that’s what you decide to do to get under my skin? That was really low.”

“So you’re mad that I used it against you while Josh was up there singing my fucking song for you?” He took a step closer, face inches from yours. “You got plenty of dancing in with him tonight, I figured you got it all out of your system.”

“You’re missing the. whole. point.” You annunciated your words carefully. “I was up dancing with Josh because you never would! It hurt me because you won’t do that one simple thing with me, ever, even when you know how happy it makes me! And she got to have it with a snap of her god damn fingers, even if it wasn’t for the right reason. I got to watch you do something with another girl when I have to beg you to give it to me.” You sat on the bed, pulling your foot up onto your knee and messing with the strap on your heel.

“Didn’t seem like you missed me too much, tonight.” You closed your eyes, expelling a long breath to calm yourself down.

“I was only dancing with him because I couldn’t dance with you, Jake. I was only hanging out with him because all you wanted to do was argue with me.” You kept your voice steady, trying not to feed into him. “Do you think I prefer dancing with your brother? Getting asked if I’m his girlfriend, when we’ve been dating for half a decade?” You inquired, still messing with the strap of your heel. He let out a sigh, grabbing your ankle and pulling your foot up to rest on his thigh. He carefully undid the strap of your shoe and slipped it off your foot. He held his hand out, motioning for you to lift your other leg. You gave him a look of confusion in response.

“What? I’m mad at you, it doesn’t mean I don’t fucking love you.” He grumbled. “Give me your other foot!” He ordered, anger still present in his tone. You did as he said, allowing him to free you of your other shoe. When it was off and both of them were discarded in the closet, he resumed the conversation. “Certainly looked like you were enjoying yourself.” He finally replied. “With your… hmmm, what was it?” He asked, placing his fingers on his chin and pretending to ponder the answer. “Oh, yeah! Your confidant, your partner in crime, your soulmate!” He bellowed. “Who can only dream of being your boyfriend!” He let out a mocking sigh, laced with fake dreaminess.

“I don’t understand why tonight, after years of being together, Josh and I’s friendship is bothering you. You think if there was really a problem, you would have said something, oh, I don’t know, years ago?” You stood again, feeling more secure without your shoes on.

“Because you were using him to get under my skin!”

“God, you’re insufferable sometimes!” You shouted, pushing past him to go back downstairs. He was on his game, not letting the sudden movement deter him. He followed you as you walked. “You were doing the exact same thing! And in case you forgot, you were being a dick before we even got to the bar! I gave you ample opportunity to speak up, or go home, or just tell me what was bothering you, but you insisted you were fine and that you wanted to stay. Then she comes around, and all of your issues are suddenly resolved! You’re laughing and joking like you would any other day. All it took was for me to step out of your way for ten minutes.” You grumbled the last part, making your way into the kitchen. You opened the fridge, grabbing a water bottle and cracking the lid. You took a long drink before recapping it and setting it on the counter, just in case he pissed you off enough for you to throw it at him.

“If anything, it just gave you an excuse to be alone with him.” Jake hissed. “It’s not just about the dancing, or the karaoke, or the even the ‘funny’ passes. He looks at you like he’s waiting for me to fuck up, just so he can swoop in and finally have you all to himself. He practically undresses you with his eyes every time you walk in a room. Or maybe because it always seems like he makes you happier than I can. He dances with you, and sings with you, and buys you all of those gifts that he always just seems to know that you want.” You spun on your heels, facing him with a little bit softer of an expression than any of the previous.

“That’s what you’re worried about? You think he makes me happier than you do?” His eyes darted away from you for a moment, likely to avoid letting you know how he was really feeling. “Jesus Christ, Jake, are you blind?” He didn’t answer, causing a resurgence of annoyance in you.

“If I’m the only thing standing in the way of you being with him, go ahead. I’m not stopping you.” He snapped. “He shits on me all day at the studio, then I get to come home and watch him put his hands all over you, my girlfriend, and I’m the bad guy for being upset?” Your vision turned red, infuriated at the thought of him even thinking that. You took a step towards him, your nose practically touching his.

“If you’re so mad at him, why the fuck are you taking it out on me?” You questioned. “I told you, I would have been more than happy at home with you. You know why? Because I fucking love you, you idiot. I could say it a million times, and you wouldn’t care. Because obviously it’s all about Josh, and how I’ve been meticulously planning on using you to get to him for half a decade. Just waiting for the right time to strike, yeah?” You spat. “It doesn’t matter what I say, because no matter what, you’re always right, hmm?” You pushed your finger into his chest, really extenuating your point. “Nobody else in the entire world is allowed to have an opinion, because Jake knows it all! He’s got it all figured out!” He grabbed your wrist, forcing it down to your side and stopping you from prodding at his chest again. You were nose to nose, chests heaving with anger. You weren’t sure if he was going to tell you to get out, or if you were going to leave before he got the chance. You didn’t have a clue as to what was to come next, but you certainly weren’t expecting him to spin you around and push you against the island countertop. He let go of your wrist, grabbing a fistful of your hair instead. He pulled your head back gently, just so your ear was touching his lips.

“Did you like him singing that song for you?” He asked, his voice low and his breath tickling your skin. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal at your new found position. When you didn’t answer, his grip on your hair tightened. “Answer me.”

“Yeah.” You hissed, just for arguments sake. In reality, it was nothing compared to when Jake played it for you. Josh singing it had nothing on when Jake sang it, or hummed the lyrics to you. Josh had nothing on Jake, period, but you were too stubborn to stroke his ego.

“Yeah?” Jake questioned, his knuckles white against the hold on your hair. His hips were pressed into your ass, locking you against the counter indefinitely. “You’d rather go home with him?” He seethed. “Have him take your high heels off, wake up to him every morning?” Your heart was drumming against your chest. You weren’t willing to give in to him, but you also weren’t sure where he was going with his point. When you didn’t answer, he used his free hand to yank your skirt over your ass. His hand graced your exposed skin, the touch almost too gentle to fit with the current situation. After a moment of silence, he lifted his hand and brought it down forcefully, causing you to gasp at the contact. The ring that he adorned on his finger left a sharp sting long after the slap was delivered. “Fucking answer me.”

“N-no,” you stuttered, all of your confidence fleeing you. In place of it, there was a growing arousal between your legs and your tendency to submit to him was showing.

“That changed awfully fast.” He taunted. His hand still rested on your ass, but he’d moved it closer to your hip and held you in a firm grip, instead. You could feel his erection growing against you; the position alone was enough to get him going. “Color.” He barked.

“Green.” You said without hesitation. His fingers hooked into the side of your panties, his fist still anchored in your hair. He took a small step away from you, freeing your underwear from your body and letting them fall to your ankles.

“Since you don’t know how to make up your mind, I’ll do it for you.” He explained. You bit the inside of your lip, not daring to make a peep. “By the time I’m done with you, he won’t even be a thought in that pretty little head of yours.” He dipped his hand between your thighs, spreading them apart slightly. “The only word you’ll be able to say is my fucking name. M’gonna remind you why you come home to me.” His fingers ran through your cunt, getting a feel for the wetness that had already begun to pool. “That sound okay, angel?”

“Yes, sir.” You whispered, already knowing the rules to the game.

“Almost don’t want to let you cum. Haven’t been a very good girl for me, have you?” He hummed, spreading your arousal up to your clit. He swirled his finger around it for a moment, producing a whine from your throat. “So needy already. Pathetic.” He noted, applying a bit more pressure to his area of focus. You closed your eyes, losing yourself to the pleasure after hours of torture.

“M’sorry, sir.” You pleaded, knowing it was in your best interest to grovel for a while. “Promise I’ll be good for you from now on.”

“Come on, you expect me to forgive you that easily?” He chuckled. You didn’t respond, only let out a shaky breath when he removed his finger from your clit. “Gonna have to make it up to me, angel. You know that.” You heard him undo his belt buckle, pulling it from the loops on his pants. He set it on the counter cautiously, making you believe its use for the night was not over. He unzipped his zipper and freed himself from his pants in a swift motion. He tugged at your hair, silently telling you he wanted you to turn and face him. You did so, almost breathless at the sight of his face. His hand was still in your hair, pulling your head upwards slightly, making sure you couldn’t look away from him.

You wanted to break character so bad, to kiss him and tell him you were sorry, and that you loved him. You wanted to tell him everything you were too angry to communicate before, but you stayed silent. Instead, you gave an innocent bat of your eyelashes. He leaned down, likely feeling the same way, and pressed his lips to yours. It was sweet at first, but quickly turned needy and sloppy. You reached out for him, pulling him closer by the fabric of his shirt. You thought you would get in trouble for it, but in that moment, he allowed it. The small act satiated his need to feel wanted. You messed with the buttons on his shirt, trying to free him from it. After a few moments of struggle, you managed to slip it off his shoulders. He let go of you only for long enough to rid himself of it, and returned to his previous hold. He broke from the kiss, realizing he’d been far too accommodating for his liking. He raised his eyebrow, as if he expected you to know what he wanted. After a moment, you caught on, luckily just fast enough.

You sunk down to your knees, now eye level with his exposed cock. He still had his hand in your hair, holding it out of the way for you. You reached up, wrapping your hand around him before lowering your mouth to the tip and slowly bringing him into your mouth. You started slow, working yourself up to speed. He didn’t push you; as dominant as he was during sex, he was always hyper-aware of your comfortability. After a few moments, you started to hear a few curses fall from his lips. It gave you the encouragement to take him further, relaxing your jaw and your throat as you pushed your head down on him.

“Fuck, baby.” He sighed, unable to hold back his words anymore. You hummed against him, continuing your pace. Soon after, he tightened his fist in your hair, holding your head in place. He thrusted forward into your mouth, keeping a steady rhythm with his hips. You tried your best to keep yourself relaxed, making it easier for you to continue on. “Doing so good, sweetheart.” He groaned. The praise sent a shiver down your spine, your excitement for what was to come next was debilitating.

He sped his movements a bit more, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat with each re-entry. You felt tears from in the corner of your eyes, unsure how long you could keep up with him. But, you were more determined to please him than anything else, because it always meant you’d receive a fantastic reward. His head was thrown back in ecstasy, feeling too good to even look down at your face. As the tears rolled down your cheeks, you felt yourself gag, throat constricting against him.

His cock twitched in your mouth, bringing him back to reality for a moment. He pulled back, completely removing himself from you. “Should just cum in your mouth and leave you here like this.” He theorized, trying to attain his earlier tone of voice but failing. His chest was heaving with every breath, eyes glazed with lust. He wanted you just as bad as you wanted him, and he didn’t have the willpower to walk away from you, now. “You wouldn’t like that, would you?” He asked, his hand falling from your hair to your face, using his thumb to wipe away a few stray tears.

“No, sir.” You answered, finally regaining yourself a bit.

“I know, baby.” He sighed, realizing he could likely get off just by watching you looking at him that way. “Couldn’t do that to you. You know that.” You nodded, grateful he drew that conclusion. “Stand up for me.” You did as he said, raising slowly and ensuring you had your balance, not wanting to topple over. He brought you into a kiss, hands pulling at your shirt. If he knew you didn’t care, he would have ripped it off of you. He managed to free it from your upper half, pulling out of the kiss to bring it over your head. “No bra?” He inquired, fingers trailing over your now exposed torso. He brought his thumb to your hardened nipple, running the pad over it before pinching it between his fingers. You let out a gasp at the suddenness of his actions. “Such a little whore.” He quickly took his hand and swiped away any items littering the island. Your eyes widened at the action, watching as papers and books tumbled to the floor. He didn’t react, only placed his palms just below your ass, lifting you up onto the counter.

The cold countertop took you as a shock, causing you to tense for a moment. “Only for you.” You finally replied, watching him as he anchored your skirt above your hips.

“Didn’t seem that way tonight.” He muttered, forcefully shoving your legs apart. He took a step back for a minute, admiring the obscene display he’d left you in. You rolled your eyes.

“Jake-“ he cut you off with his eyes, his glare louder than any words he could speak.

“Kind of humiliating, isn’t it? When everybody at the bar thinks Josh gets to take you home, thinks he gets to see you like this?” He asked, not advancing any closer to you. You didn’t answer, just watched him. “How do you think that makes me feel? Watching you run around like a whore with my brother, begging him for attention?” Your face flushed at his words, embarrassed at the degradation.

“M’sorry, Jake.” You mumbled, not daring to move, in hopes of keeping him in good spirits.

“Are you? Or are you just saying it to get what you want?” He pried.

“I mean it.” You finally looked up to meet his eyes. He barely acknowledged your words before speaking again.

“Because you’re mine. You do know that, right?” You gave him a nod. “Nobody else gets to see you like this, ever. Nobody else gets to see how pretty you look when you’re desperate to be fucked.” He gave a small smirk, grabbing one of the chairs and pulling it over to him. He positioned it directly in front of you, taking a seat on it. You felt a sinking feeling in your stomach, having an idea about what he was planning. He leaned against the back of it, never letting his eyes leave you. “You know that, right?” He pressed.

“Yes, sir.” You affirmed.

“Show me, then.”

“W-what?” You stuttered, wanting clarification.

“Touch yourself. M’gonna watch. You’re going to show me all of the parts of you only I get to see.” He ordered. You didn’t move right away, wondering if he was serious. “Do you have a problem with that?” His tone was condescending and his gaze was burning into you.

“N-no, sir.” You shook your head.

“Good.” He raised his palm to his face, spitting on it. He lowered his hand to his cock, stroking himself as he waited for you to start. “I don’t have all day, angel.” He stated, almost sounding bored. You broke out of your shock, bracing one hand behind you to hold yourself up and lowering your other hand to your heat. You gathered your arousal, slowly running your fingers through your cunt, really giving him a show. You saw his jaw clench as he drew in a long breath, silently telling you he approved of your actions. “If you’re gonna act like a whore, you’re gonna get treated like one.” He explained, eyes laser focused on your fingers. “You love the attention so much, so I’ll give it to you. But you’ve gotta work for it, and you better not cum unless I say you can.”

“Yes, sir.” You let your fingers trail up to your clit, rubbing small circles. Your breath hitched in your throat, pleasure stemming from the sensation, but also from the sight of him touching himself. You had no idea how he could ever doubt your love for him, because you were hopelessly and utterly infatuated with him. Every movement, or word, or expression always made your heart flutter. He was perfect, and nobody in the world could ever compare to him. You applied a bit more pressure, letting your head fall back at the feeling. A quiet moan escaped your lips, hitting him with force. He closed his eyes, trying to stop himself from getting up and fucking you right then and there.

You lifted your hand that was supporting you and leaned back on your elbow, instead, giving him a better view. You brought your hand to your breast, the pad of your thumb drifting over your nipple while you touched yourself at the same time. You really wanted to give him a show, part of it being because it was a show of an apology, and the other part being quite selfish. You knew that the faster you gave him what he wanted, the more likely he was to get you off. Your eyes drifted back to him, settling on his face and soaking up every bit of his expression. He had a scowl, and his jaw was hard set. His eyes were almost feral looking, and he was watching you intently. His hand was wrapped around himself, slowly but steadily moving. It was just enough to get a bit of relief. You could tell he wanted to save his stamina for when he finally decided to fuck you.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about.” He ordered.

“You, Jake.” You sighed, another groan escaping your mouth. His breath caught in his throat at the sound of you saying his name like that.

“Mhm,” he made a noise of confirmation “You better be.”

“I am,” you promised, catching his gaze. “Only you.” Your steady pace mixed with you being incredibly turned on was causing a knot to form in the pit of your stomach. He knew you well enough to pick up on it by your expression alone.

“Don’t.” He warned. You gave him a pleading look, hoping he’d have a bit of mercy on you. In response, he only shook his head. You let out a whine, slowing your movements to hold on a little longer. You felt the pressure ease, relief crossing your face. “So you can listen,” he noted. “Good job, baby.” The praise was heavenly, washing over you with a warm embrace. You knew he couldn’t keep up with the current situation for much longer; he was eager to get his hands on you again. He didn’t have to say it aloud for you to know that. You took a break from your clit, slipping your hand down a bit further.

You slipped your middle and ring finger inside you, making sure to keep your eyes on him, wanting to see his reaction. You gave him an innocent smile, setting him on fire. You slowly pumped the digit into yourself, clamping down on your bottom lip with your teeth and letting out a sigh of pleasure. You couldn’t keep your eyes on him for very long, equating it to torture in your mind. You only had to work at yourself for a moment, riling him up faster by the second. “God, I wish it was you touching me, instead, Jake.” You whined, eyelids fluttering closed for a second.

It was almost like you flipped a switch; suddenly, the sultry looks and lust-filled noises drove him over the edge. He stood, almost knocking the chair over as he did so, and advanced towards you. His hand found the back of your neck, pulling you up to meet his lips. There was no gentle nature to be found, just volatile desire that you couldn’t quite wrap your head around. Once he’d fulfilled his need to kiss you, both of his hands grabbed you by the hips and roughly brought you to the edge of the island. He grabbed your wrist, abruptly moving your hand to your side. He replaced it with his own, fingers gathering your arousal and pushing inside you. He let his thumb slide up to your bundle of nerves, brushing it over the sensitive area every time he pumped his fingers into you. You were over the moon at the new found contact, although abrupt. You were trying to wrap your head around the rapid change while welcoming it at the same time.

“F-fuck, Jake.” You moaned, letting the weight of your head fall back into his hand.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” He whispered, trying to cover his own tone of neediness. He didn’t need a verbal answer to his question; your expression was more than enough. As much as he was dominant, he was also a giver. Knowing he was making you feel good was more than enough to satisfy him. Watching you was great, but it was nothing compared to him being the reason behind your pleasure. His fingers curled upwards ever so slightly, hitting that spot inside you he knew all too well. “How fast can you cum for me, angel?”

“I-i don’t..” you trailed off, only focused on the feeling of his hands working magic on you.

“You don’t what?” He asked. You could hear the smirk in his voice without even looking at him. “Make it quick, before I change my mind.” He leaned down, making you lean back, too. He pulled one of your nipples into his mouth, gently grazing his teeth over it. You hated to admit that he already had you teetering on the edge. After years of practice, he knew you well enough to know exactly what to do. An expert of sorts, if you had to label it. You reached a hand out, grabbing on to his bicep for support while your other one was anchored on the countertop. You had already pushed yourself to the edge once, and it wasn’t hard for him to get you back there.

“Jake, m’gonna cum.” You announced. His pace didn’t change, only encouraging you further. It was embarrassing at how fast he could bring you to an orgasm.

“That’s it, baby. Come on.” His voice was low, only audible due to how close he was to you. He said it like he needed it, too. It only took the small push from him to send you into your first orgasm. Your legs were shaking, your arm barely holding you up. You barely managed his name through the mess of vulgar noises that came from your mouth. Instead of coaxing you through your orgasm, his movements never tapered. By the time you were coming down from the high, the overstimulation had already started to take over.

“Jake!” You gasped, unable to free yourself from his grip.

“You’re fine.” He said, a hint of venom still in his tone. Your eyes were screwed shut, the unpleasant feeling starting to drive you insane. He noticed the look of discomfort on your face, questioning himself for a moment. “Color.” He whispered, the act completely out the window. His thumb was still working over your clit, just with less pressure.

“Green.” You hissed, knowing deep down that you could handle it. You knew the reward after was worth the moment of discomfort. He wasn’t sure if he believed you, so he gave you another chance to speak up. “Green.” You said again, noticing he was holding back a bit. At the assurance, he continued working at you. The feeling was intense, but you coached yourself through it, and eventually, the knot in your belly tightened once more, although not fully covering the uncomfortable sensation the movements were producing. When your next orgasm tore through you, it was powerful enough to make you lose the strength in your arms. If not for Jake holding you up, you would have fallen backwards. When you relaxed against him, he slowly withdrew his hand from you. Your chest was heaving, sweat glistening on you, and your face was flushed. He took in the sight, letting the picture burn a memory in his brain.

He only let you recover for a moment before ridding himself of his pants completely and sinking to his knees. You let out a groan, barely back to earth from his previous actions. His eyes looked up to you, wordlessly checking to see if you were ready to keep going. He didn’t speak again, but placed a few kisses on the inside of your thighs. Just when you relaxed into him, thinking maybe he’d gotten his fill of being an asshole, he let his teeth sink into the sensitive skin. You jumped slightly at the sudden feeling, not expecting it. He continued on, barely aware of your reaction, and sucked a few marks into you. By the time he’d worked himself up to your cunt, you had surpassed your overstimulation, and quickly became eager for him to continue on.

“You want it, don’t you?” He teased, mouth only inches away from your heat.

“Yeah,” you breathed.

“How bad?” His eyes flickered up to your face again. Your lips turned downward, almost into a frown.

“You want me to beg for you?” You questioned, not realizing how challenging your tone sounded. His eyes turned stony, eyebrows furrowing slightly.

“Thought you said you wanted me, angel?” He pulled back slightly. You felt your stomach sink, hoping you hadn’t made too much of a mistake.

“I do, Jake. I’m sorry.” You rushed out.

“Then fucking tell me how bad you want it.” His scowl had returned, his order clearly stating that he wasn’t in the mood for any argument. You realized it was less about dominance, and more about him needing to hear the words, needing to feel needed. You reached down, placing your hand on his cheek and letting your thumb run over the soft skin.

“So bad, Jake. I need you.” You whispered. Involuntarily, he leaned into the touch. You could feel his rigidness soften, almost immediately calmed by the feeling of your hand on him. “Please.” You gave him a look of desire, softening your features. “I want it so bad, I’ll do anything. Only you can make me feel this good.” That seemed to be exactly what he needed to hear. He didn’t make you work any harder for it; before you were even finished your sentence, his mouth was on you. You let your fingers tangle in his hair, holding on to him while his tongue ran through you. You let out a sigh of pleasure when he focused on your clit. His fingers sunk into your skin, holding you as if he was scared you were going to get away, sure to leave marks in the morning. He was working at you as if he starved, cautious as to not miss out on a second of the experience.

You were unable to contain any of your moans, giving him exactly what he wanted to hear from you. You’re tugged at the roots of his hair, another way of letting him know how good he was making you feel. He pulled back from you for a moment, moving his thumb in place of his tongue. “Does that feel good, baby?”

“So good, Jake.” You struggled to get the words out, too caught up in the moment.

“Don’t be shy. I wanna hear all of those pretty noises.” He ordered. He didn’t let you respond, already having his tongue take over again. He slipped his index and middle finger back inside you, adding the extra bit of stimulation for you. He was determined to fulfil his earlier promise; he wanted you so fucked out that he was the only thing you could think of. Little to his knowledge, he didn’t have to do much for that to be true. He was always at the front of your mind, wiggling his way into every thought and action. This part was just a bonus for you.

In retaliation to his statement, you decided to up your game a bit; if he wanted to hear noises, you were more than willing to give it to him. The moans and curses you let out were pornographic, sure to be heard by the neighbours if they listened hard enough.

You could tell he was enjoying himself, too, humming against you and taking in sharp breaths when a sound he particularly liked was heard.

His fingers curled upwards in just the right way, causing you to give an involuntary tug on his his hair. He only used it at motivation, ensuring to repeat the same action with each movement. His skills at guitar had paid off fantastically for you in the bedroom. “Fuck,” you groaned, feeling the familiar pressure build once more. “God, please don’t stop, Jake. Feels so good.” You whined, letting your head fall back in ecstasy. He took the praise to heart, making sure to keep his movements steady. He was focusing on keeping his hand and tongue at the same speed, wanting to allow you to get the most of the pleasure. It didn’t take much longer for you to come undone, gripping at his hair and uttering curses. He only eased up when you started to come down, taking the opportunity to get a good look at you. Your eyeliner was beginning to run, and your lipstick was smudged. Your hair was messy and your eyelids were heavy as you looked down to meet his gaze. He had to admire your beauty even in the disarray. He thought you were the most beautiful thing that ever walked the earth.

He removed his fingers, standing in an instant. He took hold of your hips again, pulling you as close to the edge of the table as he could. Your head was still spinning as he used his hand to line himself up with your entrance. He had no more willpower to wait any longer. You both let out a sigh of relief when he pushed himself inside of you, the feeling intensified by the lingering sensitivity of your last orgasm. The position was a bit awkward, making it hard for him to move, but it didn’t bother either of you very much. The intimacy was what you craved, and it was giving you just that. He brought one of his hands to your face, letting his thumb trail over your bottom lip. You parted your lips, pulling the digit into your mouth and lightly suctioning your cheeks around it. He let out a long exhale through his nose, the tail end of it sounding more like a growl produced from his chest. He slowly moved his hips, rocking into you agonizingly slow. You opted to just enjoy it while it lasted, knowing the gentle nature would be out the window soon.

He pulled his thumb from your mouth, a small pop sounding as he did so. His hand drifted towards your neck, fingers ghosting over your skin. His thrusts didn’t speed, but did get more forceful. You couldn’t help but let out a gasp as the tip of his cock brushed your cervix, sending a jolt of pleasurable pain through you. “Just like that, baby?” He asked, eyes boring into you. His fingers tightened slightly on your neck, leaving you to believe his concerned inquiry was a bit misleading. “Does that feel good?” You hooked your leg around his waist, drawing him even closer. It gave him the answer he was looking for, although nonverbal. “Such a dirty little whore.” He hummed, clearly pleased by your action. “Is this all you wanted? To get fucked?” His eyes scanned your face, the flame still dancing in his pupils. “Didn’t matter whose bed you were in, as long as there was a cock inside you?” His fingers tightened again, finally enough pressure to restrict the blood flow. “Or did want to go home with him?”

He knew you were unable to answer; he was talking to himself, and taunting you in the process. He knew the minute he took his hand away from your neck, you’d be talking back, and he wasn’t particularly fond of that idea. He leaned in, lips hovering over your ear as he fucked into you. He knew he’d have to release his hold on you soon; he may have been willing to degrade you, a few slaps or spankings, but never seriously harm you. He didn’t want you to fear he would, either. “You think he’d fuck you like this? Make you feel this good?” He whispered, breath hot and tone gravelly. He clamped down on your neck tighter once more, completely restricting any blood or airflow. He felt you let out a pointless, choked gasp, not getting anything from it. He bit down on your earlobe, one final move before he loosened his hand. You let in a long, desperate breath, filling your lungs as much as you could. You coughed, sputtering for a moment at the sudden burst of oxygen. He let his fingers gently massage the area he’d just assaulted, wanting you to know without breaking character that he was, in fact, just acting. His head was still down by your ear, scared if he looked up he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from cumming.

You were agitated from his words, feeling the bratty part of you start to surface once more. If he was so willing to talk down on you, you weren’t afraid to give it back. You hadn’t fully thought out the whole thing, only depending on your bruised feelings for clarity. “Don’t be so cocky. You call this fucking?” You challenged, voice was still raspy from his hand around your throat. He stiffened, pulling back from you as if you’d burned him.

“What did you say?” His hips stopped, too. His expression was feral, and his body tense.

“What, you can dish it out, but you can’t take it?” A smirk was playing on your lips. “If you’re not going to do it right, I can go call-“ your sentence was cut short by his palm retracting from your throat and colliding with your cheek, throwing your head to the side. It caught you completely off guard; your train of thought disappearing and his body language now anything but loving. Admittedly, he’d hit you a bit harder than intended, but he was in no state of mind to cater to you. Without so much as an utter of concern, he pulled out of you roughly grabbed your hips, yanking you off the table and onto your feet.

You didn’t have time to process the change before he spun you around. His hand found your hair and he forced your upper half down onto the countertop. He wasn’t gentle with his touch, shoving your face into the table until your cheek was squished against the wood. He took in the sight, your skirt still pushed up to your bellybutton. In a rash decision reliant on emotion, he grabbed a fistful of the bunched up fabric and gave a hard pull, busting it at the seams and ripping it from your body. He could buy you another to make up for it, he decided. Now less concerned about the sex, and more worried about your favourite skirt, you opened your mouth to protest. “Jake-“

“Shut the fuck up.” Your time for talking was over; you’d pushed him just a bit too far. He let the now torn clothing fall to the floor, grabbing his belt from beside you. He maneuvered it so it was folded in half, all whilst still holding you to the table. “You think he could do a better job?” He seethed, running the cold leather across your bare ass. When you didn’t respond, he lifted the belt and brought it down with force, causing a sharp sound and a lasting sting. “Do you really think anybody could?” His hand in your hair tightened, driving your cheek even harder into the table. He had no care for your comfortability, now. “I should just leave you here, make you get yourself off, instead, since I’m not doing it right. Would you like that?”

“N-no,” you squeaked, mentally preparing for another blow. Just as you expected, another searing sensation spread across your backside, causing you to jump.

“If you want him so bad, then go. But don’t think for a second he can give you half of what I can.” You could hear the sneer in his voice. “Do you understand me?” You weren’t sure if he wanted you to answer, or if it was rhetorical. When the belt flashed across your skin the third time, it was made clear he wanted a verbal confirmation. “I said, do you understand me?”

“Y-yes, sir.” Tears were spilling onto your cheeks, teeth grinding at the pain from the leather. But, you had pushed him, and you were more than aware of the consequences when you misbehaved.

“Don’t you ever speak to me like that again.” His tone dropped, less authority and more finality. You heard the belt fall to the floor, followed immediately by him lining himself up with you. There was no adjustment period before he pushed himself into you again, taking no mercy with the power behind his hips. You let out a yelp when he slammed into your cervix, but he was in no hurry to ask if you were okay. You had no time to recover before he repeated the same action.

His hips were moving at a brutal pace, all of the anger from the night being let out at once and building up to a dramatic climax. He was still holding your hair, never easing up on the weight of his hand holding you down. His other hand was holding your hip, keeping you in place while he fucked you. There was no ability to keep yourself quiet; the sounds falling from your lips were obscene, pleasure bordering pain creating a whole new feeling. He pulled your hips back a bit, giving more space between your legs and the edge of the table. He slipped his hand around to the front of you, fingers finding your clit with expert precision.

“How’s this? Good enough for you?” He growled. You couldn’t find the words to respond, eyes squeezed shut as all of the stimulation acted together to bring you to the brink of insanity. His finger danced over your already sensitive bundle of nerves, coaxing another orgasm out of you almost effortlessly. He was almost smiling at the noises you were making, arrogant enough to know how good he was making you feel.

“F-fuck, Jake,” you managed out, some form of confirmation that you heard his words.

“What’s wrong?” He tormented, voice wavering slightly at his rapid movements. “You asked for it, now you can’t handle it?” He showed no signs of slowing down or easing up; he was determined to prove a point, now, and he wasn’t backing down. He heard a familiar moan fall from your lips, your walls tightening against him slightly as you did so. He knew you were close, and it was only encouraging him further. Within a few seconds, you were caught up in another orgasm, all of your muscles tense and your throat coarse from crying out his name. You couldn’t allow yourself to relax as you came down, his hips nor his fingers letting up.

“Jake, please, I can’t.” You pleaded.

“You can, and you will.” He dismissed you, fully aware of the state you were in. He could see the tears staining your skin, your mascara fully running down your face. Your cheeks were red, burning with heat, and sweat glistening on your forehead. “Color.”

“Green, fuck!” You expelled, frustrated with your own unwillingness to give in. Every nerve in your body was on fire, begging you to stop, or take a break, but you were still enjoying yourself. You knew he was, too, and that was most of your motivation. He continued as if there was no question asked in the first place, never easing up on your clit, either. You were on the brink of screams, desperately trying to contain the moans ripping from your chest.

“You gonna give me another one, angel?” He asked, venom still present in his tone. You knew he wasn’t being so generous with orgasms for your sake, it was solely a personal agenda for him to prove a point. You were completely unwilling to cum for him again, but his fingers were forcing your body to betray you. He knew it, too, only allowing the cockiness to grow. “You ready to admit it, now? You want to tell me the truth?” He hissed, eyes never leaving your face. Before you could reply, the pressure in your belly peaked once more. He’d successfully forced another orgasm from you, letting the pride settle in his bones. Before you fully came down, he was already lifting your upper body off of the table so you were standing. He was aware of your lack of strength, assuring he was holding you tight enough so you wouldn’t fall over.

He pulled out of you, still supporting you with his arm, and turned you around. You were exhausted, completely at his disposal. You weren’t the least but worried, knowing he would take care of you; if you said the word, he’d stop immediately. “Arms around me.” He told you, a little gentler than his earlier orders. You obeyed, snaking your arms around his neck. His hands fell to your ass, lifting you up in one swift motion. You wrapped your legs around him, almost as if it were muscle memory. He carried you over to the wall, pressing your back into it. As much as he enjoyed the accessibility of the last position, the simplicity of doing whatever he pleased to you, he wanted to see your face. He kept one hand firm on your ass, holding you up, and guided himself back inside you with his other. The position change had given you a minute to calm down, just as he was hoping it would. He rested there for a moment, not making any further advances.

“Look at me.” He snapped. You lifted your eyes, barely keeping them open, and met his gaze. His expression was hard, but no longer malicious. He couldn’t find it in himself to stay angry with you; the sight of your face so close to his was enough to immediately soften his heart. “I want to hear you say it, angel.” He whispered, stare burning into you. “Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.”

“You are, Jake.” You breathed, unable to lie about it and risk any more punishment. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody could replace you.” Your voice was quiet, all of your energy completely drained. But, you were speaking from the heart, and he could tell. He leaned in, resting his forehead on yours. Slowly, he started rocking his hips into you again. The feeling was so much different, now. His movements careful, filled with love. He’d proved his point beyond intention, and he was well aware of it. All of the anger was gone, and he just wanted to be close to you, now.

“You’re mine, baby. You know that.” He hummed. “Nobody else even gets to think about you, like this.”

“M’yours, Jake. All yours.” You promised, hoping he’d lean forward just enough so you could kiss him. “I don’t want anyone else.” Your fight was gone, now, not as if there was a lot there in the first place. Your back talk seemed to hurt him a little more than intended, and all you wanted was to make up for it.

“I know, honey.” He assured you. “Me, too.” His sincerity was staggering, the softness of those two words were the most profound vulnerability he’d ever shown during sex. You felt like you were seeing right through him. “Gonna take care of you, now. Okay?” You managed a nod, filled with relief when he leaned forward to connect his mouth with yours. You tangled your fingers in the hair at the base of his head, holding him to you. You didn’t want him to pull back, savouring the loving gesture as if your life depended on it. The sensation of him fucking into you so carefully while he was kissing you was more euphoric than anything else you’d felt that night. Not often did you get slow sex with Jake, and it was just as phenomenal, if not more. Something about the emotion, the complete transparency, was unmatched.

“I love you,” you mumbled against his lips, causing his fingers to tighten on you. He pulled back slightly, just enough space between your mouths to speak.

“Fuck, y/n, say it again.” He ordered, but it sounded more like a plea.

“I love you, Jake. So much.” You groaned, losing yourself to the feeling of him inside you. You were sure there was nothing that could feel better than that.

“I love you, y/n.” He closed his eyes, jaw clenching as he rode through the blissful proclamation. You could tell he was close, and you were eager for him to get there. “God, you feel so good.” You let your hand come up to his cheek, holding his face while your thumb drifted over the soft skin. “Can you cum for me one more time?” You nodded as best you could with his forehead against yours.

“Just kiss me, please.” He didn’t need to be asked twice, his lips were on yours again in an instant. You kissed him with a hunger that could only be satisfied by him. He picked up his pace a bit, silently begging you to cum, just so he could, too. He had been holding himself back for long enough that it had started to become painful. He pulled you down on him every time he thrusted, just for a little more impact. That was enough for you; with the added pressure, he reached the spot inside you that only he could. Your legs tightened around him and your fingers grasped at him, letting him know you were there again. He pulled back, wanting the full view this time. Your head fell backwards against the wall, eyes closed in pleasure. You breathed his name between moans, finding it impossible to think of anything but him as your final orgasm washed over you.

At the sound of his name spoken so beautifully, and the sight of your blissful expression, he couldn’t help but lose himself to the feeling, too. He pulled you down on him one last time, holding you there as he spilled his release into you. He slumped over, pressing you further into the wall and letting his head rest in the crook of your neck. He was breathless, completely overpowered by euphoria. He didn’t withdraw right away, wanting to savour the moment of intimacy with you. Nothing but heavy breathing sounded through the kitchen, both of you chest to chest and feeling your heartbeats against each other. He turned his head inwards towards your neck, placing a few kisses into it. He left a few light marks, just as a final reminder of the entire night.

“You okay?” He asked, still resting his head on your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “Are you?”

“Yeah.” He murmured. “I’m so sorry.”

“Me, too.” He finally pulled back from you, placing a kiss to your forehead.

“Bath?” He asked. You nodded, giving him a small smile. He carried you to the bathroom carefully, not pulling out of you yet in avoidance of a mess. Once you were in the bathroom, he withdrew and let you get cleaned up. He flicked on the faucet for the bathtub, letting the warm water run before closing the drain stopper. He grabbed your package of makeup wipes pulling a few out and setting it back on the counter. “C’mere.” He whispered. You turned towards him, leaning into his hand reaching for you. He gently wiped at the smudged makeup, cleaning you up as best he could. He discarded the dirty wipes in the trash and placed a kiss on your lips.

By the time he finished, the bathtub was full and more than ready for the both of you. He flipped off the faucet, helping you in first. As you settled in, he couldn’t help but notice the marks littering your thighs and ass. He felt a sinking feeling of regret, checking your face for where he’d slapped you. It was red, slightly irritated, but seemed as though it would fade away soon. There was a small welt on your cheek from where his ring sat on his finger. He got in, too, settling behind you and pulling you into him. The warm water soothed your aching muscles, allowing you to fully relax into his hold. With your back pressed against him, you were fully surrounded in comfort. You rested your head against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you. After a moment, he lifted his hand to your cheek, fingers gently running over the inflamed area.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He said, lips turned down into a frown. “I shouldn’t have been so rough with you.”

“I’m okay.” You promised, turning your head and placing a kiss to his thumb. “Let’s just… never do that again. The sex was great, but I don’t like fighting with you. I also really didn’t like whatever we were doing at the bar… it was gross and childish.”

“I agree. No girl in the world deserve the time of day, especially when I have you to come home to. I started the whole thing. I know you and Josh would never do that to me. You guys really weren’t doing anything out of the ordinary, I was just in a shitty mood.”

“Yeah, but I knew you were upset. I shouldn’t have pushed you. I was being an asshole, and I really shouldn’t have let him sing that song. I knew it was a bad idea when I saw it come up on the screen.”

“You didn’t pick it?” He asked, fingers still caressing the spot on your face where he’d slapped you.

“No, of course not, Jake. I was mad at you, but I’d never go that far.” His stomach sank.

“I’m sorry I danced with her. I knew it would hurt you, and it was wrong. I shouldn’t have assumed you would do that, either.”

“That did hurt me, a lot.” You admitted, feeling no need to lie about it. “You’ve never really been jealous before. Where the hell did that come from?”

“I don’t know.” He was honest. “I was mad at Josh all day, and when I saw you guys being so nice to each other and dancing to those songs, especially while I was so upset…I guess it just felt like he made you shine a little brighter than I did, tonight. I feel like I dim your light, sometimes.” He mumbled the last part, almost afraid to admit it out loud. You felt your heart break at his words.

“Jake, Josh is my best friend. My brother. Of course I have fun with him, but that’s all it is. Yeah, I love him, but I’ve never once felt that kind of love for him. I’m in love with you. You don’t have to make me shine all of the time, because you complete me. You can’t always make me shine brighter, especially when you’re the one who ignited the flame in the first place.” He had one arm snaked under yours, lazily strewn across your torso just under your chest. He used that arm to pull you closer to him, still letting his fingers dance over your cheek.

“I love you.” He sighed. “I never want to do that again, either. It was so stupid. I never want to hurt you like that again.” He placed a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll never be able to say I’m sorry enough to make up for it.”

“I’m sorry, too. If me being so close with Josh makes you feel that way, I can take a step back. You’re the most important person to me, no matter what.”

“No, baby. Never bothered me before, I guess I just felt a bit forgotten about. Got in my own head, and instead of talking to you about it, I tried to make you feel the same way. Next time, I promise I’ll talk to you. You’re my most important person, too. Seeing that look on your face when you left the bar made me realize how easy I could lose you, and I never want that to happen.”

“Guess we learned our lesson, then, ‘cause I really don’t want to lose you, either.” You laced your fingers through his, running your thumb over the back of his hand.

“The sex was fantastic, though.” He chuckled after a moment of silence. “I hope I didn’t hurt you too bad. I got a little to caught up in the moment.”

“I’m okay,” you laughed. “Maybe a bit sore, but it was my own fault. Shouldn’t have talked back like that.”

“You were being bratty, weren’t you?” He pondered back to the earlier scene in the kitchen.

“Yeah, but I didn’t mean it. Just wanted to get under your skin.” You giggled, sinking a bit lower into the water.

“I know, beautiful. You did a good job at it, I’ll give you that.”

“Yeah, my ass knows it, too.” You grumbled. He laughed, leaning down and peppering a few kisses over your shoulders. You melted into the touch, happy to have things back to normal.

“Hey, y/n?” He asked, lips still drifting over your skin.

“Hmm?” You hummed, eyes closed in peacefulness.

“I don’t want you to stop dancing with Josh. But I do think that maybe I wouldn’t mind dancing with you, too, if that’s okay.” He whispered. A smile broke onto your lips at his words.

“That’s more than okay, Jake.” He dropped his other arm, wrapping it around you, too. He pulled you into a hug, love completely surrounding you, now. “I love you.”

“I love you, angel. God, I’ll dance with you every day for the rest of my life if it means I get to have you like this.” He sighed. “I was stupid for not wanting to, before. I can sacrifice a little embarrassment to get a smile on that pretty face of yours.” You couldn’t help but laugh again.

“Don’t have to do that to make me smile, baby. You know that. You can have me like this for the rest of your life even if you don’t dance with me.”

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t mind it. I’d do anything to make you happy.” You almost rolled your eyes at the statement. He said it as if he didn’t do that already.

“You already give me the world, Jacob. What more could you do to make me happy?”

“I’ll stop when I can give you the universe, instead of just the world.” You could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll buy you a new skirt and take you out tomorrow night, make up for everything. Wear your best shoes, cause you won’t be able to get away from the dance floor.” A smile grew on your lips, too.

“Can’t wait.” And you meant it. Not just for the dancing, or a night out, or the promise of a replacement skirt for the one he’d destroyed. You couldn’t wait simply because you were excited to be with him. You were certain you could live the rest of your life deprived of all modern comfort, but if Jake was by your side, you’d be the happiest person to have ever lived.

[sanemisstalker]

sanemi doing the suspicious eye squint whenever you lie to him

"I'm back babe, I had to deal with some annoying ass demons. How was your night?"

you tell him about your night and how you slept.

"Great. Anyways, did you touch yourself while i wasnt here?"

if you say no nervously he will squint his eyes suspiciously and if you say no with complete confidence unwavering he will reward you!! (in bed)

if you nervously say yes he'll feel a bit bad and feel like he's pushing you which usually ends up with him clutching onto you with an iron grip or offering to let you be top (FEMDOMMM sorry) if you confidently say yes he'll punish you (praying for your ability to walk)

NSFW/ fem reader/afab genitalia/ domination

I'm in a Dom Sanemi mood fuckkkkk- I need him so fucking nmgnsbhsss-

The only image my brain will allow me to conjure for this, and I need you to stick with me, because I've been thinking about how to word this ask for days--- but it's just the vibe. The energy. There isn't a scenario I can give you- just how it would feel.

But I need you to imagine that feeling right after you cum. Maybe you're huffy, maybe you're done, maybe you need more. Every day, you've had your fingers buried in your needy pussy. Banging fists into walls, your back against your bed- because nothing feels like him. Nothing does, and you can't put your finger on why?

You rejoice, for the first time in days since he's left you to go pursue real, life threatening damage, you're finally able to work yourself up enough and cum. It's short, and unsatisfactory. Not worth a thing-

And then it's him. Maybe it was seconds ago, or hours, it doesn't matter. You can tell he knows the second you turn and lock eyes on him. He doesn't have a starch array of emotions to sport, but this one is concentrated, wide eyed and blown out.

He can smell it. Hear it. Did you ever break a plate as a child? That's the fear that look strikes into you. It all but sings that he knows your sins- but you don't know that's why, yet. There's that tiny little voice egging you on to just try and get away with it.

He couldn't possibly know.

And you do- try that is. You try to appeal to his emotions, to his logic- a simple 'Hi, Sanemi, did the demon hunting go alright?' But before you can even ask, he's growling at you,

"Did you touch yourself?" It was so to the point- like he'd grabbed your head and slammed it through the nearest wall-

His eyes lowered, understanding you were about to make an incredibly stupid decision while looking incredibly guilty. Incredibly needy. Incredibly in need of his cock down your shaking throat- In need of his hands between your rubbing thighs.

God you looked so happy to see him, it was lighting him up. His cock would begin to rise.

You'd lean down and prop your head on your hand, the man would start to walk toward you with a plan in mind. He didn't know what the plan was, yet, but the start and end were easy. You act especially dumb, and he leaves you fucked so you're actually dumb.

"No?" You'd croak, not even believing the sound of excitement dripping from your voice.

-----

AGHHHHHH. I WANT HIM TO FUCK ME PLEASE GOD PL E A SE

[drpeppertummy]

"Didn't you eat dinner tonight?"

Thank You My Friendddd this mostly wound up just being laurie & sunny bein jackasses😭😭😭😭

[hunger, play fighting, light stuffing & belly rubs]

"Let me up, I'm hungry," said Sunny. Laurie, who was laying on her back with her head on his tummy, didn't budge.

"Didn't you eat dinner tonight?"

"No," he said glumly. His stomach growled impatiently.

"Well, that's on you," she said. "I'm comfy, you're stuck here." Sunny glared at her and tried to push her off of him, but it was no use. She was stronger than him, and if she wanted him pinned to the couch, then on the couch he would remain.

"Come onnnnn," he whined, slumping down. He tried to squirm his way out from under her, but she pushed herself further on top of him, holding him in place with a mischievous smile.

"What? I thought you liked spending time with me," she teased.

"No, you suck," he said, brushing her hair over her face. She blew it away and put her arms behind her head, settling into her position across Sunny's sunken middle. His belly rumbled unhappily. He folded his arms over his chest with a huff and pouted. Then, after thinking for a moment, he lifted one of her arms and bit her--not hard, but certainly enough to draw a reaction.

"Ow! Sunny!"

"Let me up!"

"No! Now you're staying here forever," she said, pushing herself up and sitting fully on top of him.

"Lauriieee," he groaned, trying in vain to shove her away. She leaned back and settled in, squashing him entirely into the couch cushion. Her arm came to rest beside his face, and this time, he bit with purpose.

"Sunny!" she yelped, yanking her arm away. "You are a feral fucking animal, you know that?" He simply glared up at her. His stomach growled pitifully, and she could feel the vibration against her.

"Get offa me!"

"If I get up, will you promise to quit biting?"

"No. Get up!" He tried again to push her off. Laurie rolled her eyes. As slowly as possible, she eased herself off of him, until finally he was free enough to spring away, scrambling over the arm of the couch and tumbling to the floor with a thud. Laurie peered over the side, but he was already up and scampering off to the kitchen.

It wasn't long after Laurie had gotten herself comfortable that Sunny came diving over the back of the couch, landing clumsily across her lap. It didn't seem possible that he could have eaten so quickly, but his tummy poking out against his shirt was proof enough, and he let out a loud burp, happily folding his hands over his rounded middle. Laurie wrinkled her nose at him.

"Hi," he said, smiling innocently up at her. The look she returned was unamused.

"Can you just sit there and behave?"

"I am behaving!"

"Yeah, behaving like an untrained dog," she retorted.

"If I'm a dog, does that mean you'll rub my belly?"

"No."

"Aw, come on, please?" He stared up at her, puppy-eyed, clasping his hands sweetly under his chin. She sighed.

"Fine." She gave his full belly a halfhearted rub. It felt taut under her hand, and she was amused to see him melt almost instantly at the touch, a big sleepy smile spreading across his face. Shaking her head, she went on rubbing his belly, more softly now, until Sunny's wild energy seeped away entirely, leaving him limp and content across her lap.

[gallus-rising]

here we go. i’m doing it and no one can stop me

i am (going to attempt) to rank all stands by sexiness starting with the JoJo’s themselves. by the end of this “project” all of the winners will be pitted against each other in a final showdown, as judged by me, Standfucker Extraordinaire. unfortunately no TJL stands will be included as we’ve not seen enough of them in action. sorry Jodio 😔

plz keep in mind that these are only my objectively correct opinions u-u

11: Tusk Act 1

marketable plushie lookin ass

10: Tusk Act 3

change up the colors and this thing the world’s ugliest sleep paralysis demon

9: Hermit Purple

its just vines. idk what i’m supposed to say. comes w Joseph’s slut energy built in. it’s cool that its purple i guess?

8: Tusk Act 2

Johnny you have 4 stands and almost all of them are ugly as sin wtf man. the design is finally fun so points for that at least

7: Crazy Diamond

now we’re getting onto the fuckable stands babyyyy

Crazy Diamond is just a tad much. his colors are ok, the hearts coordinating w Josuke’s design are cute. but then there’s the plating, the helmet, the tubes(??), and he even suffers from jjba Codpiece Syndrome. it’s all a bit much and doesn’t quite fit. in some of the anime promo art they gave him a sparkly diamond texture, but besides that i don’t care for him all that much.

6: Star Platinum

using the DiU palette bc of all the Star Platinum colors it’s the best. the pastels are cute and make for a fun contrast w the big muscles

an oldie but a goldie. bc Araki hadn’t gotten his footing w stand designs yet Splat looks more unique in retrospect. hair and clothing, capable of facial expressions, a tasteful loincloth as opposed to Another Fucking Codpiece.

i also think it’s cute how artists like to draw him w starry hair :>

5: Gold Experience Requiem

GER? this guy fucks. there’s simply no other way to put it. he fucks so hard. unfortunately points have to be redacted for that dead eyed stare and unmoving grimace. GER could be so much higher if he didn’t have such an awful baked in expression and this will become an unfortunate running theme. maybe if GER had more screen time that could be mitigated, but alas...

4: Stone Free

one of the few female stands, which sucks bc Araki goes off w girl stands. just look at her. the blue accented by gray, the radical bright green sunglasses, the sexy hints at her string powers, she even complements Jolyne nicely if stand/user synergy is needed. she’d probably be higher up if we saw more of her bc Araki prefers to show off her powers via having Jolyne psychically unravel which is fun! but does mean this beauty didn’t get enough time to shine 😔 not sure how i feel abt the bumpy texture as well. makes things a bit busy

3: Tusk Act 4

finally!! after 3 shit stands Tusk strikes gold in the final hour. its weird, its pink, its got (jo)stars its a cowboy, what more could you want??

more screen time goddamn it!! Tusk Act 4 gets like 2 and a half physical appearances across 2 parts. Araki wtf man. Tusk Act 4 just fucks so hard tho so it’s gotta be top 3

2: Soft & Wet

YEAHYEAHYEAHYEAHYEAHYEA!!! NOW THIS IS WHAT I CALL A FUCKABLE STAND! Soft & Wet is the platonic ideal of a MC stand. fun mechanical parts, cute little face, the Stand Tubes finally serve an aesthetic purpose and aren’t just awkwardly tacked on. he also has such pleasing colors and silhouette. i love him so much and he’s easily one of the best, cutest, most sexy stands in all of jjba

However

Soft & Wet has 3 variants and they all look the same. base Soft & Wet, Josefumi’s Soft & Wet, and GO ⭐ BEYOND are identical. so many good multi-stage stands and Soft & Wet drops the ball on every level 😔

1: Gold Experience

Gold Experience is not just fuckable, he’s h*rny. nonstop GE everyday all the time GE is just Like That and the sheer confidence of it all overpowers the few negative aspects of his design. even the Fucking Codpiece

GE has more than 1 facial expression and a sexy alt form to mix things up. he pairs w Giorno perfectly. he’s got a Lot going on w the loud colors, ladybugs, wings, helmet, teardrop markings, vague insect texturing, and hints of The World. but unlike Crazy D it all ties together. amazing. flawless. unbelievable.

and if you don’t know what i mean when i say GE is h*rny. BEHOLD:

in every one of his Iconic poses he is dtf. the h*rniest stand for the h*rniest part. this is how it was meant to be godbless godbless and goodnight.

[z3nitsusgf]

Hello again Val!! I’ve decided to try and be more bold so now i’m gonna be the number one Kenma simp on here 😌 Can i please have a continuation of my first Kenma request? Like after stream where he actually fucks you. If not i can always ask for something else ^^ Also- may i be added to your taglist?

Have fun writing this and all of your other stuff!! Remember that everyone here loves your writing <3 it makes people like me happy (and horny/hj)

Hello again Nico!! So glad u requested again (this was long overdue I’m so so so sorry to keep you waiting, I hope it’s okay! )

Kenma Kozume (𝙥𝙩. 𝙤𝙣𝙚)

CW: degradation, m.reader, amab reader, overstimulation

“you’re a mess.”

You can hardly hear it under the whirr of his PC, fan blowing to keep the unit cool. On top of the continual wet pap of his hips against your ass, his murmur is all but blended in the kaleidoscope of neon strip lights and faint video game music.

Mess would be considered an understatement - you’re absolutely wrecked. It’s the sheer irony that he spits when you’re alone that usually makes you laugh, but now makes you cry under him. Tears that stream freely down your neck and onto the pillow, now able to make their way from your eyes and shimmer iridescent.

If you could speak you’d beg Kenma to give you reprieve, reduced to nothing more than a blubbering little mess of cum and drool under his palms. Wailing against the bed sheets with two hands gripping your hips and bringing you down on Kenma’s cock. “Please, n’ more Kenma- I can’t.”

Your tummy sinks, weight pooling down on your pelvis as your ass is being pounded into the mattress. “You’re gonna cum again.” Is all he says, not even command because you know it’s true. The worst part is that he sounds bored, monotone lilt in his voice with the soft drawl that makes the cruel twist in your tummy churn.

And he’s right, your hole fluttering around his cock as your length bobs and twitches against your navel. Hands gripping a lone pillow like an anchor, Kenma grinding his hips against yours. So so brutal because he knows - knows it makes you clamp down and see stars. He keeps hitting your prostate, that spot inside you that makes you cross-eyed and blubbery, the hot iron coil snapping inside your stomach and making you spill across the sheets, again. “Fuck-!, fuck, fuck, ohmygod.” 

Your face dropping down against the sheets, mushed into the black fabric as you whimper and convulse under the man. He angles his hips up, tipping them back so the head rubs against that spot harder, you let out a wail. And Kenma let’s out something akin to a small chuckle. It shouldn’t make you as hard as it does, but you can’t help the small bucks of your hips, the faint twitch in your throat at the sound.

“You look good like this, maybe I should show everyone what a good cockwhore you are.” He says, smoothing his hands down the curve of your back, pressing his thumbs into the dips. The thought makes you squeeze down on him, your cock brushing along the sheets as Kozume pushes you down. It’s wet, hot with cum and drool and other slick fluids.

No one would’ve thought someone like him had all the energy to pound you into the mattress. but he does it with ease. You widen your eyes when he pushes you forward, “wait- s’ rubbing,” He knows, knows that when he pushes you down the sheet rubs against the underside of your cock, the continued ruts of his length making you drag along the textured fabric, dragging out your orgasm. “so cute.” He mumbles, shuddering when you clench down again.

Kozume gives you three timely thrusts before he’s pausing, stilling up to the hilt as he unloads inside. Gripping the sides of your waist as he cums, and he can’t help the cruel twist of his hand that slips from him as he wraps it around your oversensitive, tip thumbing at the tip. Length jumping in his hold, pads of his fingers trialing up the tingling shaft that’s quite frankly not able to cum any more.

“One more.” Is all he says. And you drop your head down on the mattress, feeling him push back inside you again.

[ex0rin]

Jack Quaid | InStyle 2022

[hyunjilicious]

A/n: I'm low-key terrified because I never wrote anything like this before... 🥺 so I hope it doesn't suck? Thanks for the request @hommoturttle I hope its ok!

Summary: just sex. And breeding kink. SMUT 1.6K

Warnings: smut, some dirty talk, the tiniest bit of degradation, breeding kink obvi and some possessive Bucky. 18+ please!! (also idk about you but this gif does ✨things✨ to me - like.. Mr Barnes, stick whatever you want wherever you wantksksksk ok I'm done 🥲)

It would happen after a mission that you went on without him. No matter how used he is to going away and putting himself in danger, his brain refuses to accept that that's your job too. He gets crazy worried, sweats through most of the nights that you're not there to sleep on his chest, snaps at everyone that tells him to calm down, and counts the days until you're back. He's usually able to stand the distance, but not in these scenarios. He always ends up missing you like you've been gone for months, but the way the night you're back unfolds, makes up for everything.

No amount of cuddling, sweet nothings or showers together could possibly make up for the time away like the frantic rounds of sex you always go through as soon as you get back do. And it's always the same, he's on top of you, hovering above your body as his eyes never leave your frame. He wants to see every detail, every inch of your face, every feature that he loves so much. 

It starts crazy and it ends even more so. Foreplay is long forgotten, everything you get is him throwing you on the bed and ripping every piece of clothing that stands in his way. And it's more than enough, the pure need and hunger in his manic blue eyes, has the power to drive you insane in record time.

You're a squirming, wet and needy mess by the time he has you naked on his bed, hands clawing up to him. "Come on, Bucky, I need you"

And it drives him up the walls too. He hates the belt that slows him down, and his shirts never make it out intact. 

Biting down hard on his lower lip as his need gets the best of him, Bucky's breathing passes the threshold of obscene, his buffed chest heaving as he can't help himself.

"Come here, doll" he finally rasps, his voice low and grave as his jeans fall to the floor.

In a moment, he's on top of you, his legs lodged in between yours. Every touch is amplified by the wait and the feeling of his rough hands on your waist is mind-blowing. You squirm under his touch, trying to wiggle your way closer to him.

"Missed me too, huh?" Bucky grins proudly, gently but sternly grabbing your chin. His thumb rubs along your jawline, his teeth showing as he can't hide his enthusiasm.

"Yes-" you breathe out, melting under his touch. "Missed you so much, Buck."

"Need me?" he keeps teasing, lowering himself so that his lips reach the side of your neck. At first, it's his hot breath that you allow yourself to get drunk on, but when his teeth lewdly sink into your skin, you yelp, your thighs involuntarily closing around his hips.

And you can tell he takes pride in the responses he gets from you. You're sure he feels the goosebumps up your arms, or the way your rib cage shakes with every breath you take. But he keeps going, his greedy hands exploring your naked body, taking your breasts into his palms as he keeps on sucking claim marks into your neck.

"Fuck, Bucky-" you moan, back arching. His lips and his fingers are already too much for you to take, but when the tip of his cock brushes against your thigh, you're all but done. 

"Tell me you need me, doll" he hums, pushing himself up on his left arm. The mattress dips under the weight of his metal hand, and as you look between your bodies, your eyes land on the way he's eagerly fisting his cock in his right hand. You're caged in his hold, and it's the only thing you want.

"You're all I need, Bucky" you cry, your hands softly roaming up his chest. His hair had fallen around his face, framing his features and offering them the required amount of shadow needed to accentuate his carnal desire. Bottom lip wet and lodged between his teeth, he watches you closely, waiting for more.

"Bucky, please-" you continue, uselessly shaking your hips from side to side. "I'm already so wet, I'm such a mess for you sometimes. Just use me, do whatever you want with me, I just need to feel you, Bucky. Deep inside me, please"

He shakes his head in disbelief, hints of bitter laughter escaping his lips. "Such a needy, little thing" he muttered to himself.

With your mind clouded and busy enjoying the build-up, when the tip of his cock connectes to your folds, your eyes snap wide. Your reaction brings a proud grin to Bucky’s lips, but this is just the beginning.

Giving you no time to adjust whatsoever, he slams himself into you, bottoming out as you feel your breath cut short. "Fuck, fuck-" you pant, wrapping your arms around his shoulders in a pathetic attempt to ground yourself.

"Be good for me, doll, ok?" Bucky groans against your ear. His body is right on top of yours, fully rocking you against the mattress with every deep and powerful thrust of his hips. "You need to take all of me"

You can feel him up into your chest, your pleasure materializing in the form of tears, coating your eyes for just a short second before running down your temples. 

"Buck-" you cry.

"I'm gonna fill you up, baby" he grunts, holding onto your shoulders as he shoves himself deeper. "Deep inside your belly, yeah? Gonna feel me for days"

And you're not that close yet, your brain isn't yet drowning in hormones, so you can think straight, you can form a decent answer - but you refuse to. You just squeeze your eyes shut and grit your teeth, sucking the pleasure his cock forced into your body. Every vein is palpable, your walls closing in around him as if his size isn't already a tad bit more than you'd normally find comfortable. But you love it, he's there, as close as he can get, consuming himself right there with you.

"Fuck-" Bucky grunts, his metal fingers wrapping around the roots of your hair. It's unwashed - a weeks worth of sweat embedded into its fibers but he doesn't care. He only sees you. "I missed you so fucking bad, doll-"

"I'm here, baby-" you coo, your words shaky and barely audible.

You don't know if he heard you, or if he even processed your sentence, he's too caught up.

"You're mine - you're here with me, only mine-" he adds, fervently sucking away at the skin of your neck. "My baby, my angel, mine-" he grunts, emphasising his last word with the help of a ravaging thrust that shakes you to your core.

You cry out, his name burning your throat as you feel him ripping your insides apart.

"Bucky- Buck- I-"

"So sweet-" he cuts you off, moving his head to the other side of your neck. "And only fucking mine. Say it-" he demands.

"I'm-" you gasp, "I'm yours, only yours"

"All mine"

You faintly nod along, vision blurry as you start to lose yourself.

"Say it!" Bucky adds.

"I'm all yours"

"Say it again"

"I'm... all- all yours, Bucky" you manage to mutter before a pleasure filled whine erupts from your throat. "I'm getting close… Bucky, I can't-"

"Easy now-" he moans, slowing down his pace. He comes face to face with you, his damp lips sloppily pressing against yours. He's still balls deep inside your cunt, making the gentle movement of his hips almost unbearable.

Eventually, he slowly tilts your head to the side, burying his face into your hair as he whispers against your ear, "I'm gonna pump you full, yeah? Gonna fill this sweet cunt with my cum, and you, like the good little slut you are, are not gonna let any of it go waste, right?"

"Yeah…"

"Gonna use that pretty cunt of yours to milk my cock dry, yeah?"

You whimper and nodd, frantically trying to get him to pick up his pace. But he isn't having it. When he finally pulls out at that agonisingly slow pace, he captures your lips into another kiss as he slams himself back in.

"Come on, Bucky, fill me up" you cried, involuntarily pulling breaking the kiss, "I wanna feel you inside me"

"Oh, you're gonna feel me inside you alright" he taunted, repeating his movements and pulling all the way out before forcing himself all the way back in. "A little bit of me inside you-" he growls and thrusts again, deeper and harder, "Growing inside you-"

"Holy- fuck!" you screamed, throwing your head back.

"Mine forever, doll-" Bucky grunts, both of you dangerously close the edge, "Yeah?"

"Mhm-" you hum, whiny and all teary eyed with your lips gathered between your teeth.

And then you're all but done - legs tightly wrapped around his middle - every muscle of your body clenching uncontrollably as a spiral of pleasure engulfs your body. And Bucky isn't far behind, your name being the only thing on his lips as he shoots his load deep inside your pussy - careless and irregular, a few last thrusts until he crashes down on top of you.

Although out of breath, as the last waves of your orgasm propagate along your body, you still cling to him. Bucky's face is hidden against your shoulder as he struggles to come down from his high, none of you willing to move even an inch.

"I'm never pulling out" he jokes, and it takes all the energy you have left inside your body to chuckle along.

"Wouldn't ask you to" you laugh, "But you're crushing me so-"

With a grunt, but still with impeccable ease, Bucky wraps his arms around your middle and spins the two of you around, until he's laying on his back with you against his chest. 

"There-" he shrugs placing a kiss on the top of your head, "Problem solved"

[dumbdemonslayertexts]

my general vibe is shuddering submissive armin being called babyboy and babydoll but i just got the pussyshocks from this imagery so HEAR ME OUT.

you're stressed out from the day you've had and you're at a house party. and from your experience in past hustles, you mix drinks like a mf pro and it's kind of theraputic for you so you get into a flow just to take your mind off things.

but your sweet doe eyed boy sees how hard you're shaking martinis and comes to check on you.

"hey... what is it..?"

you feel his voice-- that soft, airy gumdrop voice that does so many things to you-- before you even sense his body, and it's behind you, a sinner's touch tracing along that pretty brown skin peeking between your top and your jeans. and you ignore the blooming chillbumps he sends illuminating your glowing body. but the vibes in here were ones you wanted to absorb, not taint. so why speak your problems out and screw up the good time?

"i'm not about to fuck this party up over--"

shit. and you almost let it slip, too. the storm over your head was not letting up on you even with everyone else having a ball around you. in fact, it felt like it was trying to grow just to spite you, now that your sweetheart was here to save the day. "over some bullshit." you finish weakly. nope. you were not giving this your energy. and you definitely weren't about to cast it on armin, "i don't want you bothered over it."

"so then talk to me, baby," he rubs a tender set of circles into the small of your back with his thumb, biting a little smirk when it arches for his touch. "who do i need to embarrass?"

he said so teasingly, but you knew full well what armin was capable of with that mind and that mouth on him. and he knew you knew. you'd seen him take down entire reputations, you'd seen him raze positions in social hierarchy to the ground just with how he could expose and read folks. over slights, over digs at his friends, any reason he felt like. he could lay any bastard he wanted to out completely bare and do it with the coldest disposition you had ever laid eyes on. heartless. relentless. ruthless. he could do it without giving a fuck, and for some reason, that power of his turned you on even more than dudes out here who would knock somebody out for the same offences.

"boyyyyy..!" you whined, pushing at him softly with your crush on him stretching your cheeks in a smile. he ate it up, encircling you in his arms from behind and rocking you from side to side, his chin resting on your shoulder. "nobody..! i said don't worry about it..."

"you can't think i'm going to let something upset my queen and not worry. i'll swing on whoever, just point me where."

you can't help it. you melt. armin was the warmth of sunshine to you, and just him caring so much was whisking away everything that had gotten you so worked up. "no, cause then you can't squeeze on me."

"you want me to squeeze on you, baby?" he asked lowly, softly. you could hear the smile in his voice.

"i want you to squeeze on me."

he gives you what you want. soft and full and tight, making you feel the most heavenly mix of appreciated and owned. his body is so strong and encompassing, protective of yours-- in his smell, his closeness, his care, his unmatched brand of sexiness that was so unique to him. slowly he lessens the hold, only to hum and squeeze you again. it's so full of intimacy that you forget you two aren't alone.

he sets your body alight, and suddenly you feel yourself getting hot between your thighs.

"mmm... better..?"

"...yes," you answer more breathily than you should have. but you feel his response against your ass, so you don't regret it, "don't stop, please..."

"i love you, baby," he answers back so dreamily and elated, wrapping you again in a warm squeeze, "you know i won't stop. you know i'll do anything to make my queen feel good."

you feel one of his arms leave, and mourn the loss of that touch. but you feel two fingers press against the denim cupping your pussy, and pull in a silent gasp. "...i want to make you feel so good."

"armin..!" he eats his name when he kisses your soft lips, swirling more pressure into your pussylips while his tongue slowly collides with yours.

"just one, baby... just one for me..." he closes his eyes, his nose pressed into your edges as he begs low in your ear, "please? i promise i only need one. i swear."

your knees buckle when he finally smears your pussy open for him through your bottoms, getting that contact with your sweet little clit he wanted. he holds you up easily with the one arm still around your middle, shushing you to calm.

"let me make my baby's pussy cum... she's been so stressed all night. you didn't see like i could. it hurts so bad to see my baby like that. can i have one..?" he asks huskily, "isn't that fair, baby..? she needs more, but i'm a patient boy. i can wait for more when no one can see her shaking and crying for me... please..?"

you're grasping and grabbing now, clutching at the arm he has around you and the countertop that's hiding what he's doing to you from everyone else. "sh...shittttt..! yes, yes, baby, yes you can have it. take it, take it, please please, fuck..!"

his breath hitches and breaks in your ear, panting and shaking in a gasp like your permission alone made him bust his nut in his pants.

and damned if that didn't set your pussy on fire. you felt your arousal trickle out and gush into your panties, to armin's absolute delight. he rubbed you faster and with heavy pressure in the pads of his fingers. he's moaning into your ear in rapture with every rotation, like you're the one with your lips and tongue tight and soaking around his dick. and he's thrusting into you from the back from how bad you turned him on.

"tell me who's your babydoll."

"you!" you waste no time answering, and he groans out the gratification that so sexily gives him, "it's you, armin, only you..!"

"and am i your babyboy?" he asks further, biting his lip when he sees you roll your hips and ride his fingertips.

"you know you're my little babyboy," your glossy, half-dazed eyes land on his-- black with how lustful you'd made him, and he coos, placing tiny kisses over your cute nose and cheeks.

"and you're going to let your babyboy make you cum, right?" he egged again, seeing that you were starting to climb the peak.

"ohhhh sshhhhhiiiiiiitttt..."

"you're gonna let your babydoll get your pussy to cum all on his fingers, aren't you, baby..?"

"oh my fucking--armin, i'm about to... cummm!"

"don't keep me waiting, then, baby," he husks before kissing you, smothering your cries and writing his name into your pussy while you came, over and over while your orgasm had you convulsing against him.

[miyaagis]

demon lover

+ pairing. incubus! oikawa / fem reader / incubus! kuroo

+ genre. dark, smut

+ word c. 2,378

+ warnings. snuff, dub/non con, implied somnophilia and stalking, facial, choking, fellatio, creampie

+ author n. part 2 of monster. there are some references from it, but u should be able to understand the story even if u didn’t read that one before :)

it has been around five weeks since your encounter with oikawa and you’ve felt restless ever since.

it doesn’t matter where you are —on the streets, at uni, even in your own bathroom— there’s always an unsettling feeling of being watched.

but the nights are worse.

as soon as you close your eyes, images of him smirking down at you plague your mind and dreams. he’s repeatedly having his way with you, fucking you and making you come over and over again until you wake up. leaving you sore and wide awake for the rest of the night.

the days go by and it’s as if your energy is being sucked out of you, not even coffee nor energy drinks are able to keep you awake and away from the haunting dreams.

your body feels weak, you are weak. your fragile-looking body, covered in bruises and dull, sunken eyes easily attract looks of concern from your friends and family. but what’s most concerning it’s the fact that even if you’re restless, you keep thinking about that night.

your body and soul ache for him and you wonder if it’ll take another year until you can see him again.

it’s not until you’re at your weakest, delirious, and on the verge of insanity when he shows up. or at least that’s what you hope, being unable to distinguish your dreams from reality anymore.

“you’ve been such a good girl,” he coos in your ear, stroking your hair out of your face and leaning closer, “have you been waiting for me?”

you nod frantically, whimpering when his lips touch your cheek. he shuts you up with his mouth, his thumbs grazing the skin of your cheekbones and making you melt.

the blissful state you’re in vanishes when an unknown pair of hands start removing your clothes.

your eyes widen, trying to get a look at the intruder but oikawa keeps your face fixed on him with a strong grip on your jaw.

“i brought a friend, hope you don’t mind.”

you take a peek over his shoulder, and your eyes meet a pair of menacing ones. you recognize him immediately as oikawa’s friend from the party —another demon.

“hello, kitten. don’t mind me; i just had to see with my own eyes the pretty pussy that he has been bragging about.”

the dark-haired demon’s lips curl up in a smirk when he sees the troubled look on your face. but it’s true, oikawa hasn’t shut up about you so it's reasonable kuroo asked him to share.

his hands roam over your legs, forcing them open and keeping a firm grip on them when you try resisting him. he takes his cock out of his pants with one hand and lines it up with your entrance, marveling at the sight of your folds.

“oh and you can call me master too.”

he slides in without warning nor prepping you, the burn of your walls stretching as they make room for his cock bringing tears to your eyes.

you don’t want him. it should be oikawa, not him.

“s-stop, please,” you whine, looking at oikawa when kuroo refuses to acknowledge your pleas. but his eyes harden, a dark look taking over his features.

“don’t be rude to our guest and shut up.”

his words break your heart, tears now falling freely down your cheeks as you keep being fucked by the other demon.

“shit, kitten. i can barely fit inside your pussy. let me stretch you out, yeah?” kuroo groans as he keeps forcing his way inside your walls, his girth finally sheathing in and causing him to breath out in relief, “that’s it, sweetheart.”

“isn’t she amazing?” oikawa smiles brightly at his friend, craning his neck to the side to observe your pussy being abused by kuroo’s cock, “the neediest cunt i’ve ever had.”

you clench involuntarily at oikawa’s words which make kuroo groan.

his hand slaps your thigh only to grab a handful of it and squeeze it, “i knew you’d love my cock.”

you’re about to protest when kuroo places your legs over his shoulders and leans forward, resting his upper weight on top of you.

“no! wait– please. too much! ‘s too much, please!” you try to push him away, your nails digging into the skin of his forearms but your desperate wails fall on deaf ears.

kuroo’s pace is relentless, every graze of his cock against your snug walls feels like fire.

your eyes lock with oikawa’s, he looks pleased —much to your dismay— and you feel your heart drop when he catches you staring and smiles.

“enjoying yourself?”

a cry escapes from your lips when kuroo picks up his pace, the distinctive sound of his cock thrusting inside your pussy taking over the bedroom.

“fuck, shut up. you’re getting annoying,” kuroo groans but you’re way too preoccupied with the pain to register his words.

you keep sobbing your heart out, your desperate cries getting louder as he continues his assault on you.

his large hand suddenly covers your mouth, concealing your sounds and making your eyes widen.

“i told you to shut the fuck up, stupid whore!”

“can you control yourself and not kill her before i get a turn?” oikawa’s irritated tone reaches your ears, “you always do this.”

the tears refuse to stop, kuroo’s actions plus oikawa’s words wounding you both physically and emotionally.

“i’m close, fuck– so close,” kuroo’s grunts in your ear, the snap of his hips picking up its pace as he draws to his end. 

a few thrusts later and he’s finally reaching his high, emptying himself inside of you. his cock pulses as it pumps his cum inside your raw walls, moaning in relief at the way they wrap around him.

once he lets go of you, you curl up around yourself. your soft cries are the only audible thing in your bedroom, pain tugging at your heartstrings as the weight of what just happened falls on you. you’re so lost in your own suffering that you miss the quiet sound of clothes rustling.

it’s not until oikawa’s familiar scent reaches your nose that you look up —teary-eyed and with your eyelashes wet with tears— and observe as he crawls up his way on top of you.

“will you be good to your master?” he asks while wiping your tears away, pouting at you mockingly.

“please,” you don’t even know what you’re asking for, your mind too hazy and your body too weak to comprehend what's going on around you. 

but he goes in anyway.

his hard cock enters you easily, sliding in thanks to kuroo’s cum still coating your insides and bottoms out almost instantly.

“shit, it feels way better when you’re awake.” 

he starts a slow pace, basking in the feeling. his hands start kneading your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh under his fingers, and then running the pads of his thumbs over your nipples.

the sensation has you involuntarily gushing around his cock, wet sounds starting to echo around the room and prompting kuroo to lazily stroke his hardening cock again.

“naughty kitten, you want more don’t you?” a devious look takes over kuroo’s features, but he instantly dismisses your presence by turning to oikawa instead, “does she give good head?”

“why don’t you–hah, see for yourself,” oikawa struggles through his words, brows furrowing in pleasure as his hips collide against yours.

kuroo wastes no time, making his way next to your head while his hand keeps pumping at his now fully erect cock. the weight of it falls on your parted lips, running the leaking head over them and coating them with pre-cum.

you’re not given a warning, kuroo’s fingers get a tight hold on your jaw and force it open so he can slide in, the head poking at your inner cheek and making it bulge out in an obscene way.

“there you go, kitten. you are way better when you shut up,” he smirks down at you, thrusting up into your mouth, “all you needed was my fat cock.”

drool leaks out of your mouth but at this point, you don’t care anymore. you are drained, basically a corpse for them to fuck and fill with their semen.

you have a hard time trying to focus your vision on the demons before you, your head throbbing at the lack of energy. but it only gets worse when you feel a pair of hands fumbling around your throat.

“if only you could see how fucking gorgeous you look right now,” oikawa praises you as his hands wrap a collar around your neck, almost moaning at the sight underneath him, “my good girl, do you like your master’s cock?”

the leather fabric tightens around your neck, the leash allowing oikawa to jerk your head up and making kuroo’s cock slide out of your mouth in the process.

“oi! don’t hog her!”

your groggy brain barely registers them arguing over who gets to control you.

“shut the fuck up. i found her first,” oikawa tries to get his point across by lifting your legs over his shoulders and pounding even harder, your whimpers turning louder at the new position. 

“but you’re fucking her cunt! at least give me control over her head!”

oikawa’s too busy thrusting his cock inside your plush walls that he eventually gives in. once the leash falls on kuroo’s hands, he wastes no time and pulls your face towards him, making you gag around his cock.

your muscles contract at the intrusion which only heightens the blissful feeling, transmitting waves of pleasure through his body.

“ah fuck, i can feel her trying to suck my cum out of me. such a cum-thirsty whore.”

what both demons miss, it's the way your face starts to turn purple. the tight grip of the collar plus kuroo’s tugging at the leash preventing the air from reaching your lungs.

with the last bits of energy you've left, you try to rip the collar off of you. your hands desperately claw at the material as your eyes widen in realization of what will come next if you’re unable to free yourself from their grip.

but your actions seem to anger kuroo, who growls and drops the leash only to grab you by your head and shove your face all the way down his length.

you start to choke, his thick girth taking so much space in your mouth and when you try to take a deep breath through your nose, he pushes in even more. coughs erupt from your chest, his pre-cum and your saliva reaching your lungs while dark spots start to cloud your vision. their voices sound far away, numbness taking over your body as you start growing dizzy and a violaceous hue tints the skin of your face at the lack of oxygen.

both demons pay no mind, too busy chasing their ends to notice how you’ve stopped fighting them. their moans echo freely all over the room, the lewd sounds of their cocks abusing your holes bringing a sense of hunger to them.

“shit, baby you feel so good. i’m gonna cum in your sweet, needy cunt and fill you with it m’kay?” oikawa announces, his orgasm rapidly approaching and inciting him to thrust harder, getting lost in the way your walls rub against his twitching cock.

kuroo lets out a low groan as he finally cums in your mouth, pulling out just enough to paint your face with it and smear it all over your lips. he sighs in relief, smiling at the sight of your pretty face covered in his sticky cum. the way it sticks to your eyelashes and drips down your face to your parted lips etching itself on his mind.

he can’t remember the last time he had such an erotic sight. 

but when he notices a lack of movement from you after a minute, he couldn't help but curse out loud. thankfully, it goes unnoticed by oikawa since his moans got louder, his own orgasm sending shivers down his body and causing him to lose focus on his surroundings for a while.

“ngh– fuck,” oikawa spills inside your pussy, his cock throbbing as load after load pumps out of him and fills you to the brim.

his eyes are closed, breaths ragged as he basks in the afterglow of his orgasm. it’s not until he opens them to admire your fucked out face when he finally finds out.

he’s confused for a moment before it dawns on him. he slaps your thigh gently, calling out your name in a futile attempt to get you to answer him back.

“sweetheart, this isn’t funny.”

but as he turns to face kuroo in search of an explanation, one look at him is enough to answer his question. 

“i swear i didn’t mean to!”

a nervous-looking kuroo, fully clothed by now, stands awkwardly by the door. he’s well aware he fucked up—big time.

“fucking hell!” oikawa rakes his fingers through his hair in exasperation, “did i not tell you to control yourself?!”

he can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness since he did grow a liking to you thanks to his nocturn visits. but the sentiment quickly fades away when his eyes fall on your form once again. a pleased smile appears on his handsome face as he takes in the sight of your legs spread wide open, his cum seeping out of your pussy.

“she remembered how much i like this,” he coos to himself, plunging one finger between your folds and smearing the fluids.

he’s so lost on you that he doesn’t notice kuroo disappearing from your room and leaving him behind—not like he cares. his hands reach out to smooth out your hair, traveling down the side of your face and stroking the skin of your cheeks with his long fingers. 

you look so peaceful, so pretty, covered in their fluids, and with the choker still adorning your neck.

the nostalgic feeling returns, tugging at his heart and prompting a gentle smile to take over his lips. with a kiss on your forehead and then one on your lips, oikawa finally bids his goodbyes.

“don’t worry, baby girl. i have a spot in hell saved just for you.”

[no-droids]

Just the Translator

Part Ten of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7.6K

Warnings:  There is rough sex in this.  THERE IS ROUGH SEX IN THIS.  Do NOT read if that offends you.  There is also more anal stuff—NO FUCKING (not yet).  Uh, canon-typical violence, grumpy Din Djarin, some fluffy moments, Baby Yoda being a little troublemaker, bit of a cliffhanger ending BUT NOT TO WORRY PALS I ALREADY GOT QUITE A BIT OF THE NEXT PART WRITTEN

A/N: ***Please take a second to visit this googledoc, in it are useful links regarding the BLM protests and what we can do to help. Here is a separate link to where I originally addressed this and shared more thoughts***

***

Whelp.  At least you’re in a good mood. 

In contrast, Din and the kid have been causing problems all morning, the both of them.  Like two… two annoying, middle-aged children competing to see which one is less mature.

The smaller of the two, and older (most likely) is bouncing with energy.  Acting a complete fool.  Ready and willing to launch out of his restricting little sphere at any second, a bright green bundle of energy that slept way too well last night and is just rubbing it in at this point.  He was fine earlier—checking out of the inn, picking up some food at a local market, riding in the Crest as it navigated towards the most isolated sector on this planet—but the hike to this field has been like pulling teeth.

In fact, Din is currently wearing a singular gauntlet on his left hand for that very reason—so this child’s hyper ass could be contained within the hovering, reflective prison.  He’s restless, though, continuing to act out.  At one point you suggest just letting him walk to let some energy out like yesterday, even if he slows the group down with his tiny little legs.  Once you let the little menace out on parole though, he just continues to veer off in his own direction and irritate his dad even further.

And, oh stars—his dad.

Din has barely said a word, only answering with short responses when directly prompted and spending most of his energy just silently stewing inside his own little grumpy teapot on his head.  The helmet is the only other piece of armor he’s donning besides the lone vambrace, and you’re surprised steam hasn’t started whistling through the top of it with how frustrated he is, how many times you’ve seen him curl his hands with impatience. At first it was amusing, though you know better than to tease him about it right now.  You keep your mouth shut and try your best to wrangle the kid, doing everything you can to be helpful while also steering clear of unintentionally exacerbating his silent irritation, knowing Din isn’t in the mood for jokes after being interrupted at a very crucial moment last night.  The sun shines directly on the front of his helmet and blinds you with every single annoyed step, so you follow just far enough behind him and try to use his enormous refrigerator of a body to shield your eyes.

At first it was amusing.  But then the baby catches sight of a gorgeously patterned butterfly floating through the field that he probably wants to snack on for breakfast, and he breaks off from your entourage once more with a quiet little coo that should strike pure terror into the hearts of small animals everywhere.

Immediately you’re turning to go get him—but then a large hand quickly snatches the front of your shirt before you can take a single step, pulling until you’re colliding with an unarmored chest with an oof.  

A bare hand catches your jaw and tightens until you’re staring deep into the thin blade of his visor, before Din whispers rough through the modulator, “As soon as he falls asleep.”

That’s all he says.  And then he’s releasing you and letting you stumble back towards his wayward son a whole lot less amused than you were before, and a whole lot more achy.  The baby shenanigans are far less amusing too.

“You’re killing me here, kiddo,” you breathe after quickly catching up with him, having to bend in half to lead him back towards his impatient dad. 

His hot, moody… incredibly well endowed dad, thick arms crossed tight over his chest as he waits for your return.

The monster’s hand lifts high above him as his three fingers cling to just one of yours, the baggy brown sack exposing his pudgy little green elbow as he follows next to you with a waddle.  It’s slow going, but at some point he decides to pull himself up onto your wrist and you catch him, cradling him in your arms before quickly hurrying back to Din.

Thankfully he begins to calm down a little after that.  As you three eventually find a spot in the endlessly breezy field to settle into, the kid clamors back into his shield while Din carelessly drops the dark bag of supplies he carried from the Crest into the tall grass.  You twist your back to let some of the stiffness out, rotating your arms to encourage more movement as he approaches.

“Same thing as yesterday,” he gruffs when he’s in reach, patting his chest again with a bare hand.  “Hard as you can.”

“My… My hands hurt,” you eventually admit, not wanting to frustrate him even more and hoping you would be able to work on blocking today instead, but Din just nods while you gently brush your thumb along your sore knuckles.

“That’ll happen until it doesn’t,” he tells you quietly, reaching out to touch your elbow in a quick, awkward gesture of comfort and then dropping his arm to his side.  Short, but not unkind.  “Push through.  You can do it.”

You nod, knowing that’s probably the very best motivation you’ll get from him.  His beliefs, condensed down to quick, stunted sentences, presented with such unwavering surety that they must be truths.  Weirdly, it works wonders for you.  Maybe it’s just the person it’s coming from.

You drop into stance and then slam your fist into his chest before he’s ready, and Din steps back on impact with a small grunt while you bite your lip to silence your own noise from the pain reverberating up your arm. 

“Good,” he huffs nonetheless, rubbing the spot on his chest he’s historically designated as target practice.  “Good.  You’re… hitting harder than yesterday.  That’s… fuck.  Good.”

“Good?”  You ask lowly, chancing a quick look over at the kid.  Who blinks directly back at you, wide-eyed and staring purposefully from his crib.  You deflate just a little bit at the sight of him still wide awake, and Din’s fists are clenched by his sides when you turn back to him.

He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel the pent up tightness in his body as you spend the next couple hours throwing more hits at him, different types.  Left hooks, right hooks, crosses, jabs, elbow strikes, palm heels.  He was absolutely right though—the more you make contact with him, the less you begin to feel the pain, until it eventually feels like nothing at all to you.

But then, at one point, you pull your hardened fist back, aimed and focused directly on that same spot on his chest once more—when suddenly his hand flashes up and he flicks his finger against the lower part of your open ribcage. 

He barely puts any strength into it at all—it’s the pressure you’d use to tap someone on the shoulder if you were trying to get their attention, but for some reason the incredibly well-placed reminder throws you.  A little fucking touch like that shouldn’t hurt nearly as much as it does, but you nearly tip sideways and have to catch your footing with how dizzy it makes you.

“That’s what’s called a liver shot,” Din tells you calmly, watching you wrap your hand around your ribcage and wince at the lingering pain through gritted teeth.  “Keep your arm down like I told you.  That’ll happen every time you wanna get lazy with me, little chicken wing.”

You hiss and shake your head a little bit, trying to clear the fog, and then purposefully tuck both arms tight to your sides.  But then—

His hand flashes up again and taps the side of your face this time—not hard enough to hurt but enough to make you flinch on instinct and take a step back.  “That arm stays up.”

Your quick huff of air is suppressed.  Somewhat censored—it doesn’t duly portray the sharp flare of annoyance you experience.  You do exactly what he says, however, and keep your arms in position in front of you.

But then you jerk back and sputter angrily when the tips of his fingers lightly connect with your cheek once more.  “Stop that!  My hands are up!”

“Then why’d you let me do it?”  He asks, stepping up as you retreat to poke you square in your chest.  “Stop letting me do it.”

He goes to tap your face again, but this time your forearm comes up to swat his away before he can make contact, and he seems pleased for the moment.  Din steps back and hits his chest again.  “Come on.”

He lets you get in just a few more blows before coming at you again.  You smack his hand away and then go to throw another punch, but he’s quick.  He cheats—goes for you twice in a row when you’re not expecting it, and taps the vulnerable spot on your side for the second time today.  It hits you like a bullet and takes you a second to snap out of the abrupt shot of pain.

“Come on,” Din taunts once more, curling his mismatched fingers at you—one hand leathered and the other tan and bare.  He sounds like he’s grinning under the helmet, starting to enjoy this way too fucking much.  It makes your blood boil, makes you just stand there like an idiot for a few seconds and fume at his audacity.

Apparently you take too long getting pissed off at him.  He comes at you first, going for your side again, but you shove his arm out of the way with a growl.  Except his other arm flashes and you react instantly, ducking under the wide, careful swipe aimed for your cheek and then zeroing in on the same exact spot below his ribs he’s been torturing you with all day, the one left wide open while his arm misses its mark.

Except—yours isn’t a tap, or a flick.  It’s a hard uppercut.

Air rushes through the modulator as he groans and stumbles sideways, gasping and trying to steady himself.  Triumph surges through your veins as you watch him, shaking your hand out at your side to quickly encourage the numbness away, your knuckles not yet used to hitting bone.  He clutches his side and shakes the helmet violently in an effort to regain himself, breathing hard through the filter and—

The visor instantly jerks to you and you’re already taking a step back on instinct, adrenaline roaring.  He snaps upright as you continue to retreat—until you trip over yourself and plunge to the grass.

A reflection catches in your peripheral, and you whip your head to the side to see the kid completely passed out in his metallic cradle, eyes closed and mouth drooping a bit.  The sight shoots pure exhilaration through you, but it’s nothing compared to the thrill of only seeing him there for a split second before chrome shields instantly slide shut over his head.

You look back to Din just in time to see him dropping his gloved hand back down to his side and taking quick steps towards you—and you react without thinking.  You scramble over on your hands and knees and then launch forwards before you’re even halfway off the ground, finding your feet as you stumble into a run and hearing footsteps pick up behind you.

Maker, it’s been ages since you’ve run like this.  You don’t even know why you’re running—you just do, it just feels like you should.  Your body barrels through tall grass and your heart thunders faster than the sound of your pumping legs, louder than the wind whipping through your ears.  You don’t know if he purposefully allows you to get this far or if you’re genuinely quick—

—nope.  Nope, you’re not quick, because he suddenly bursts into a sprint behind you and gains way too much ground way too quickly.  You try to break left as soon as you realize what’s happening, but he’s too fast and hooks an arm around your stomach just before you’re out of reach.  Din yanks you back to his chest as he twists around and takes you both to the ground, his shoulder blades slamming down first and softening your landing with his whole body and a grunt, skidding you both to a halt in the endlessly wavy field.

The wind is knocked out of you regardless.  You try and struggle off of him but the positioning makes it almost impossible—your abdominal muscles are no match for the strength of his arms wrapped around your stomach, keeping your body pinned tight to his as you wrestle to lift against him in the grass.

“Fight harder,” Din growls raggedly in your ear, and your pussy seizes with need when you feel how rock hard he is against your ass.  It encourages you—you make a rough sound towards the sky and then lift against him with all your strength, and your elbow comes down hard into his ribcage.  Air whooshes out of him and his arms loosen just slightly.  You’re able to wiggle off him and start crawling away, but then he heaves over and snatches at your pant leg—

Which means you pull them down yourself as you keep clawing yourself forward by your arms, raw excitement coursing through your veins, the fabric pulling tight over your ass and then bunching around your thighs.  You squeal and flounder and kick at him—but Din just grabs at your ankle and then pins your leg to the ground, pushing up and using your calves to clamor on top of you with brute strength, catching your underwear and ripping them down too.  Your heart pounds and your pussy just about floods itself hearing him dig in his pants to pull his cock out, his breath coming heavy through the helmet.

Maker, you’re so fucking ready for it.  You keep struggling just because your body is telling you to, but nothing close to the word ‘stop’ ever leaves your mouth, never even comes to mind.  You feel wetness slicking your inner thighs as Din grunts and plants an arm next to your head, his bare hand shooting out to hover in front of your face.  You flinch—but he keeps it there, palm open in front of your lips in silent expectation.

“Wet or dry,” he snarls when you don’t immediately react.  “I don’t give a shit.”

Still, his hand stays right in front of your face long enough to let you make up your mind.

And… not lick it.

After a moment, Din makes a sound that drops another wave of white hot arousal down through your stomach—a furious, growly noise that resembles distorted static passing through the filter.  He angles his cock against your opening and when you hear him muttering angrily, you think he’s scolding you for it.  Calling you dirty under his breath, promising you you’ll regret saying that in a second.  But no—he’s—

“Perfect.  Perfect little girl, fucking perfect,” Din hisses darkly, pushing into your soaking entrance without anything but your slick to ease his way.  “H-How are you—s-so fuck—ing—”

Oh Maker, you turn your head into the grass and cry out through the delicious, blissful intrusion, pushing your hips back against his—and Din curses as he quickly bottoms out, making sure he lurches fully into you before his hands find out exactly where they want to be.  They land on your lower back and he mounts up, pinning your body hard to the ground with almost his full weight.  It means you can rip out as much grass with your useless arms as you want—he doesn’t even give you a single moment now that he’s successfully rooted you to the crushed greenery.  You bloom for him all the same, as soon as Din pulls out with a wet sound and then starts fucking you strong and steady.

It’s sharp.  Biting.  Even the pleasure has a hard edge to it, completely paralyzing you even if you could struggle in this position.  His hands are pushing down so hard that the ground digs into your tummy and makes his cock angle and slam right into your g-spot each and every time.  You want to moan out your ecstasy but he’s wringing the air from your lungs with every shattering swing of his hips back and forth, quickly speeding up as he goes and taking out a full night’s worth of deprivation on you.

“Ngh.  Take.  Cock.  So.  Fucking.  Good—” Din grits with every mean thrust, the staccato growls of praise getting lost in the echoing, rhythmic clap of his hips.  You can’t fucking breathe—the pleasure is too overwhelming, your face is pressed into the grass, he’s got almost all his weight on you.  You’re helpless to do anything besides close your eyes, furrow your brows, drop your jaw, and just let him own your body in the middle of this beautiful oasis.  The heavy, wild thrusts steal every sense away from you, any ability to think beyond the fractured piece of heaven he’s striking inside you over and over.  You don’t even feel him grabbing your asscheeks and spreading them—

Somebody makes a pitiful, breathless whine—it’s you, you realize.  You make that sound, because worn leather lands right on the entrance he was denied last night and shamelessly breaches it before anything else can interrupt him.

“Tight,” he hisses, slowly sinking his thumb all the way down to the knuckle while you clench your eyes shut and choke out his name, “—f-fucking tight—”

His cock pulses inside you and you bear down as hard as you can on it in return, trying to get accustomed to being penetrated in two places at once.  He doesn’t move his thumb after that—he just keeps it there, deep inside you while he continues wrecking you with the brutal hammering of his hips from behind. 

Still—the impropriety of it starts to burn you up, how… dirty it is.  Getting the life fucked out of you in broad daylight, in the middle of a wide open field, the thickest finger he has buried deep in your ass, helpless to do anything else besides lay here and let him—you feel yourself start to clamp down, steadily getting tighter and tighter around the intrusions while he grits out hard curses and keeps giving it to you through the rapid build.

His name—you start repeating it into the ground like it’s the only thing you’ve ever known.  The word scrapes from your throat over and over, and you try to pull at the grass but your hands are clenched into fists and you can’t seem to remember which muscles to use to open them.

“You like this?”  You’re able to hear him grit from above you.  “Like when I—fuck—when I fuck you l-like this?  When I just.  H-Hold you down and take—” he chokes, “—take what I w-want—”

You can’t respond, but fuck yes, you do.  The kindling spark inside you suddenly flares up and starts to spread through your body like wildfire, tightening, tightening, tightening, but then—

He’s so pent up—Din cums.

Devastatingly early.

The savage thrusts suddenly stutter to a halt and the gasp he takes in sounds like it physically hurts him.  Like the orgasm is just ripped out of him.  His hold turns to steel on you, as if he thinks you can somehow get away right now, and Din cums deep inside your spasming cunt with a shuddering, desperate groan of your name. 

It’s like it drains everything from him—he slumps, just conscious enough to slowly ease his thumb out of your tight asshole, and then he collapses in the grass next to you.  You stay there for just a second and shake next to him, muscles feeling like they’re creaking even while just laying on the ground like this, completely motionless.

“Shit—was that—”  Din pants, turning and scooting over to you to brush your hair out of your face with his bare hand, “was that… okay?  Do you… do you need…?”

You’re still so submissive, still so high on the overwhelming rush of pleasure, your mouth opens and croaks out a response without your permission.  “It was good.”

“Yeah?”  He huffs, dropping back on the grass and trying to catch his breath.  “Good.”

And… it’s true.  It was good, it was absolutely fucking amazing.  So overpowering, such a hard fuck that you almost don’t think about the fact that you didn’t actually cum from it.  The thought doesn’t really even register with you fully, not yet.

Eventually you both push yourselves up, each of you equally lacking in energy, just in different ways.  Din looks like he’s drunk—unbalanced and dizzy while he removes his glove and stuffs it into one of his pockets, before carefully tucking his spent cock back in his trousers.  In contrast, you’re nothing more than another trembling blade of grass in an enormous landscape of them, flimsy and yielding to the powerful, rippling wind as you attempt to adjust your clothing.

It’s fine, you tell yourself on the slow, quiet walk back.  Sex doesn’t always need to end in a fiery orgasm.  Sometimes a rough pounding hits the spot, scratches that itch.  You feel like you’re a newborn blurg trying to balance your oddly proportioned weight on two noodle legs as Din’s hand patiently guides you from your lower back, and a bright flare of arousal arcs through you feeling how gentle his hold is compared to the way his cum is steadily leaking from your throbbing, aching cunt.

You don’t need to cum every single time he fucks you.  It’s fine.

***

Upon returning to the sight of the unbothered, napping kid, you both decide to walk a bit more, and you learn your lesson this time.  The sun glints bright against Din’s left side while traveling in this direction, so you stick purposefully to his right the entire time.

In the meantime, you share easy conversation and attempt to regain some semblance of control over your still slightly… restless body.  Slowly but surely, your feverish arousal for him dims and fades to the backburner, replaced instead by… softer, quieter feelings.  There’s not a solid word for it, not really.  If you were mixing on a palette, you’d start out with a base of gentle contentment and then add a big dollop of affection, diluted with silence until it’s a swirling, pastel… color you don’t have a name for, but cherish all the same.

The baby wakes up about halfway through the afternoon hike, and he’s better now too.  Eventually your ragtag party finds a place to settle for the night—a small clearing in the field at the edge of a thick forest.  There’s a sizable log and boulder situated relatively close together, with a wide open space to make a fire in the center.

Din disappears for a bit to go get some firewood from the looming forest while you entertain the kid; the log is tilted perfectly to allow you both to watch the sunset, and you easily converse with the riveting baby talk as if he’s an absolute genius.

“I’m not so sure about that, honestly,” you tell him diplomatically, receiving nothing but unintelligible babbles in response as he climbs all over you.  “Well, no actually, because there’s two major schools of thought concerning that, the first being—”

He pops up in front of your face to interrupt you heatedly and you scoff, rolling your eyes over the loud gibberish.  “Look, I’d appreciate it if we could tone down the passive-aggressiveness, okay?  If we can’t have a respectful discussi—”

Three green fingers settle over your lips and you gasp at the nerve of him, forced to let him continue to ramble on your lap about absolutely nothing at all, the size of his ego soon growing to match the size of his ears.

“Hear that, shiny?”  You turn your head and ask his father upon his eventual return, and Din grunts distractedly as he dumps the firewood down and rummages around in the bag for a lighter.  Tilting your head back towards the kid, you prompt him with a raised brow.  “Tell him what you just told me.”

The baby bursts into more nonsense, encouraged by your attention, and Din crouches down to set the wood into position in the dusky twilight glow while saying nothing at all, and it somehow manages to pass as listening intently.

It continues to go on like that far longer than you expected it would, the baby apparently having quite the bone to pick about something that’s been on his mind, and one point you have to rest your hand over his mouth so he finally stops babbling.  “Hey, that’s not very nice,” you scold him quietly.  “I’m sure his face is perfectly normal under there.”

The helmet turns just slightly towards you, unamused while you snort at your own joke for a little bit. 

“I didn’t say it,” you remind him after far too long of just celebrating your own hilarity, clearing your throat through the stifled chuckles.  “I’m just translating.”

“Oh yeah?”  He eventually murmurs, beginning to ignite some of the crumpled twigs at the center of the pile, and if you worked at it, you could probably convince yourself he’s sharing your gentle smile.  More muted than yours perhaps, but beautiful and easy on his face, fitting him simply and perfectly.  “What did… What did he say I look like?”

You would’ve shot something ridiculous back at him, something snarky and facetious, but you stop short.  You catch it—underneath his voice, it sounds… timid, almost.  Uncertain.  It makes you take just a second in responding.

“Brown eyes,” you tell him after a moment, and Din doesn’t visibly react, just continues to slowly add small branches to kindle the flame.  It’s so quiet out here, but it’s different from hyperspace quiet.  This quiet is… natural.  Warm, and.  Free.  Fleeting, allowed to roam.  In a way that hyperspace just feels compact, stifling.  “He said you have… brown eyes.  And a… a strong bone structure, striking features.  A sharp, chiseled jaw, dark facial hair.  And, uh.  He also said…”

Din keeps silently feeding the fire until it’s crackling and bright, and then he settles back on his butt next to it, both elbows resting on his knees, not moving the visor towards you but waiting for you to finish regardless. 

The stunning backdrop gives way to a stunning surge of bravery.

“He said you make a bunch of faces under there that nobody ever sees,” you say softly, blinking at Din in the fading twilight while the kid sits silently in your lap.  “That you’re an open book.  Behind a metal wall.  And you have a really nice smile, I bet—he bets… he bets you probably do it more often than anyone realizes.  And your… your hair starts to curl when you let it grow long, and.  And you’re almost guaranteed to be drop dead gorgeous under there, and it’s a real fucking shame that you’ve probably never had anyone tell you it.”

Din tilts his helmet at you, looks at you for a long time—long enough for blood to rush to your cheeks and for you to get fidgety.  But when he finally does respond, his voice is gentle through the modulator.  “He said that.”

You mhm at him quickly, nodding your head and turning away as casually as you can, heart beating incredibly fast for some reason.  “Just the translator.”

A lovely silence soon blankets the both of you, a warmth permeating through to your bones that has nothing to do with the steadily growing fire.

***

A little while later, the kid has retired to his reflective cradle and the dancing flames are the only source of light besides the bright moon hanging directly overhead.  Din sits with his back to the large boulder and digs through the bag, pulling out all sorts of food you picked up before leaving the village this morning and handing them to you.  Something red and unfocused flashes oddly against the curve of his helmet when he reaches his hand back in, but it’s only for a second—he’s already pushing more food at you and filling your arms with bags of dried meats, fresh fruit, and loaves of bread.

“Stars,” you whisper under your breath, examining the feast in the flickering firelight.  “Here, take—take some of this, it’s too much.”

“There’s more in here,” he counters lowly, zipping the bag and dropping it somewhere on the other side of his body.  “The kid hasn’t eaten all day.  Might crawl away and catch himself a Gungan later if you don’t feed him soon.”

“No, I mean—” you let all the food drop into your lap and start sorting the items, “—you need to eat.  What do you want?  There’s plenty.”

“I’m not hungry,” he answers, far too quickly to have actually taken a moment to check.  “Just give me whatever you two don’t eat when you’re finished, I’ll put it back in the bag.”

Okay, if he’s gonna play it like this, you’ll just have to choose for him.  You’ve already dedicated at least two bags of dried meat to the kid, which takes care of him.  So, you take an extended moment to methodically find the ripest fruit in the bunch, the one with the most squish to it, and then search for the softest loaf of bread, not caring that Din is silently watching you.  You gather both of them in your arms and then pluck three bags of meat from the pile, before depositing all of them back into his lap.

“Eat,” you urge quietly, grabbing another portion of food for yourself, heavy on the fruit.  “Don’t inhale it.  Please.”

With that, you grab the kid’s food and then scoop the little guy up from his shield with your free arm, standing and walking to the other side of the fire.  You carefully plop yourself down with your back purposefully to Din, the kid happily finding a place on your lap with his back to you and reaching six little fingers out for the food.

You start eating, and after a moment, you smile around the large bites of fruit at the sound of metal clinking against stone.  The baby, of course, refuses to even open the bag of dried meat you set in front of him, so you roll your eyes and do it yourself, hoping he’ll at least eat like an adult and give you some time to feed yourself.  But no—the fifty year old creep demands to be hand fed, and any other day, you wouldn’t have let him get away with it.

Today, you’re just really fucking.  Happy.

You’re unbelievably happy.  Having spent a few days on this gorgeous planet, your two favorite people in the galaxy with you.  It fills your heart with air.

You start out quiet, praying you aren’t bothering Din as he (hopefully) continues to relax and enjoy his food behind you.  You begin humming your favorite melody under the sound of the crackling flames, the source of heat burning pleasantly against the curve of your lower back, setting another piece of dried meat into the kid’s cute little mouth and only just slightly annoyed that he refuses to do this himself.  Admittedly though, you do love babying him, especially when he shows you his adorable little chompers.

One bite for him, two bites for you.  That’s the deal, even though you’re hungry and you deserve way more than double his food intake rate.  You try to be quiet enough that your gentle humming will get lost with the fire between you and Din, and he never says anything or tells you to cut it out, so you just continue to let your cheerful mood provide a quiet soundtrack to the moonlit evening.

Even better, you and the kid actually finish snacking before he does, and you’re more than willing to wait for him, thrilled that this is actually happening.  It’s so simple, such a throwaway thing, but.  Knowing he used to eat his meals as quick as he can and now he’s comfortable enough to just take a second and enjoy it… you don’t know, there’s something inherently meaningful about it, something that you specifically notice.  Something about this, about sitting around a fire and sharing a meal together for the first time—even with your back turned to him, it just feels… familial.  In a way.  More than it’s ever felt before.

You have a little moment.  It’s nice.  You drop your head back and gaze up at the night sky, in awe of how different the stars look from this side of the galaxy and remembering how far you’ve come.  The kid follows suit, leaning back against your tummy and blinking silently at the universe, the star-speckled sky reflecting in his gigantic dark eyes.

He starts to doze after awhile, listening to you hum softly to yourself, but the noise of a helmet finally lifting from the boulder and most likely fitting itself back in its rightful place snaps him awake just enough.  The kid pushes off you and waddles over to his dad, and you scoot yourself back over to your little log while he unceremoniously clamors up onto Din’s thighs.

Admittedly, it’s really fucking cute.  The visor moves just enough to watch him plop his little green butt down and find a comfy position on his lap, not helping but not preventing the movement either.  A heartwarming, silent kind of tolerance hardened men have for innocent little creatures that makes you bite your lip to hide your smile.  What a softie.

You sit there in companionable quiet, staring deep into the dancing firelight and losing track of time just a bit.  They’re hypnotic, the flames.  Crackling and popping, warming just the forward-facing parts of you and nearly burning your cheeks, but you love it.  Breathing in the woodsy campfire air, hearing the gentle breeze float through the field surrounding you, the quiet forest waving dark and deep in the distance.  The midnight sky stretches long above you and the stars seem… brighter than they were on Arvala-7.  They probably aren’t—that planet is practically abandoned and has almost no light pollution whatsoever compared to Naboo, but… maybe it’s because now they feel… in reach.  Something you can touch.  Interact with.  Something you can cover your eyes, blindly point at, and then say—that one.  That’s where we should go next.

After awhile—you have no idea how long—you blink your gaze over to Din and startle to find the helmet facing you directly, shamelessly, the kid completely passed out on his lap as the flames reflect in the visor.

Without intending to, you’re already thinking back to earlier today.  How quickly he bolted after you, how strong he was bringing you to the ground, pinning you under him and taking what was so rudely denied to him last night.

You didn’t actually finish, and you can still feel it simmering down low.  Din’s cum has been steadily leaking from you all day, and while you eventually became successful at blocking out the sensation, it suddenly slams to the forefront of your mind again.  The visor pierces deep into you while you start to squirm just a bit against the rough log pressed into your back.  You can still feel him when you flex your lower muscles, and you bite your lip and do it repeatedly while blinking at him, waiting, squeezing your thighs together and loving the reminder.

He still hasn’t said anything to you, and you start to get antsy under his stare.  Your body works itself up even more, fueled by the flames reflecting in his helmet.  After a few more moments of silent tension, you’ve finally had enough.

“Din,” you whisper, trying not to make it sound like a whine and his head quickly lifts when you didn’t even realize it was slightly tipped forward.  The helmet rolls back in a drowsy little circle, as if his neck is suddenly remembering the weight burdening it.  Embarrassment instantly floods you.  “Oh.  Shit.  I’m so stupid.  I’m sor—”

Only he’s already pushing himself up with his free arm, lethargic and drunk with exhaustion, not saying a single word as he sets the conked out kid in the cradle and closes the shield over his sleepy little head with the push of a button.

You bite your lip as he drags himself over to you, swinging a leg behind you and then dropping down without any ceremony, firmly inserting himself between the uncomfortable log and your back.  Your butt is shoved forward from the sudden displacement but he’s not done.  Din wraps both his arms around you and pulls, dragging you up onto his long torso while his legs close under you and you’re off the ground completely.

Oh Maker, he’s already thousands of times more comfortable than sleeping up against the log would be.  He makes the best bed in the galaxy, big and warm and firm under you, letting you stretch out long on him.  You lounge on his lap and drop your head to his shoulder, resting your arms on top of his as they drape heavy across your belly.

“Sorry,” he gruffs, voice low and rough through the modulator.  The filter rings sharp through your ear when it’s pressed up against his helmet like this.  “Just need a few hours.  Didn’t… didn't sleep great last night.”

You close your eyes and internally scold yourself, now taking responsibility for his lack of rest for the past two days.  Shit.  You don’t actively respond, feeling slightly put out, but your body is of another mind altogether.  It still continues trundling down the steep slope you shoved it towards earlier, when you stupidly thought he was giving you eyes under the helmet instead of him being passed out cold.  You wiggle against him just slightly under the guise of finding a comfortable position, but it has unintentional consequences.

You breathe out a soft sigh when your hips move over his cock, biting your lip at the sensation but trying so hard to stop it in its tracks.  He’s exhausted, and he already fucked the life out of you today, there’s no way he’ll want to go again this soon.  Except—then he shifts and mmms low in his throat.

“And you,” Din murmurs quietly, reaching a hand down to slowly push under your pants, “need to start being more honest with me.”

“What are you t—oh, stars,” you whisper, your body shuddering as one of his thick fingers slowly dips into your slit.

“Shit, you’re wet,” he groans, sinking his hand down lower to feel remnants of himself still easing its way out of you.  Your lashes flutter as your jaw drops, and his cock gets hard against your spine almost immediately.  “You’re fucking… soaked.  I—I asked if you came and you said yeah,” he whispers low to you, but you shake your head.  “Why’d you lie to me abo—”

“No, no—” you protest breathlessly, “—you asked if it was okay, and then I said—”

“You said it was good.  It’s not good if you didn’t cum,” he grunts quietly, and the tip of his finger now drawing tight circles over your clit makes it damn near impossible to argue.  “I didn’t fuck you right if you didn’t cum.  You should be fucked right.”

“Maker, you fuck me exactly how I need to be fucked,” you whimper, tilting your head until your lips are pressed against the curve of his helmet while his hand steadily works under your pants.  “And—oh, fuck, that’s… h-however you need to fuck me.”

“Fuck—obedient little thing…” he huffs, starting to rub harder over your clit.  “What I need is for you to cum.  From now on, you’ll tell me.  Say yes.”

“Yes,” you moan into the beskar, your eyes fluttering back at the slowly building pressure.

“Say, ‘yes, Din,’” he breathes.

“Yes, Din,” you dutifully repeat, lifting your hips up against his hand, and he groans softly through the modulator.

“Say, ‘Din, I need something to cum on’,” he whispers.

You’re delirious, you don’t even catch it before most of it is already out of your mouth.  “Din, I need something to c—” you cut off but he’s already reaching down between your bodies to ease his cock out, before yanking your pants down your ass just enough to position himself up against your entrance.

He rocks his hips up and he slides in easier than ever before, and you… don’t know what you’re expecting, but he surprises you nonetheless.  He doesn’t start thrusting into you at all.  Even though he’s rock hard inside you, thick and pulsing and breaking you open, he doesn’t move a single inch.  He just keeps himself there, continuing to rub circles around your clit and giving you exactly what he prompted you to ask for.

Something to cum on.

Your body tenses and squeezes him, and Din shushes you before you realize you were making noise.  His free hand comes up to settle tight over your mouth and guide you turn your head away from his helmet.  At first you think it’s because your heavy breathing was probably fogging the visor up, but no—his fingers leave your pussy for a split second and you hear him maneuver himself out of it.  The hollow noise it makes thunking to the ground is beginning to become your favorite sound in this universe.

But then of course, Din buries his face into your neck and starts talking again, whispering low praises behind your ear with that bassy, dark chocolate rasp, and you have to remind yourself to keep breathing.  His fingers return to your cunt to slowly rub your clit and his cock throbs hotter than sin inside you, building your pleasure into a strong, slow crescendo.

You start to whimper unintentionally, but his hand is wrapped tight around your mouth, muting and confining the desperate sounds to your throat.  His finger presses down harder on your clit and his cock flexes inside you.

“That’s it, sw—sweet girl,” Din mutters, his voice interrupted by his own staccato breaths and tight gasps the longer he talks you through it, the longer he keeps himself perfectly still while engulfed in your drenched, fluttering cunt.  “That’s—that’s it, I can feel it c-coming.  Fuck—make it good for me, give me a good one—”

His words shove you right over a cliff you didn’t even realize was there until you were dangling over the steep drop for an extended moment like a cartoon.  Everything squeezes around him unbearably tight—your hands dig into his forearms, your back arches up against him, your pussy constricts his thick cock until you feel like you’re hurting the both of you with it, and Din’s breath catches next to your ear while you’re both suspended in thin air for a split second—

—before you’re convulsing in pure bliss, flooding his cock with cum while he rasps out, “good girl,” into the crook of your neck and rocks his hips up into yours.  The few heavenly inches of movement hits something jaw-dropping inside you and nearly makes you scream against his palm, launching your body even higher into mind-bending rapture.  Fucking Maker, you cum hard for him, on him, around him.  You downright drown his cock in your pleasure, suffocate it and work out the aching tightness in your pussy all over him until you feel like you can’t breathe anymore.

“Mmm…” Din murmurs quietly, continuing to circle your swollen clit hard through the shattering aftershocks.  His voice is deep and sinful and vibrates your whole back with its frequency, but something underneath it also sounds as if he’s considering, before he seems to land on an answer to a wordless question he just asked himself.  “…One more.”

And, like the fucking Maker himself commanded it, another blazing hot wave of fire suddenly rips you apart and sends you spasming rhythmically around the throbbing cock buried inside you once again.  This one wrings you completely dry, robbing you of every sense.  The ragged whine you make behind his hand must be too loud—his fingers quickly tighten around your jaw and lock down, keeping you as still as possible while you give him everything you have to give.

Eventually the sparks die out and you’re left a shell of what you once were, clamping down hard on him and shuddering your bliss at the night sky.  He lays there silently under you, holding you as you fall back down to reality.  Your breathing is a mess and so is everything below your waist, and your whole body jerks when Din carefully slides his hand from your pussy and rubs gently over your thighs, your tummy, your chest.

“That was…” you croak out, trying to remember how to speak, “ … g-good.”

“Go to sleep,” he whispers, pressing soft kisses against the side of your neck.  You can hear the gentle grin he’s hiding from you, knowing he completely incapacitated you.

“But what about—” you start to protest, when Din’s teeth sink into your flesh and your pussy seizes up tight around him, making him choke a hoarse little groan into your skin.

After a moment, he eases his throbbing cock out of you, and he resets your clothing while you whimper in distress.  “Go to sleep,” Din murmurs, before softly kissing your neck once more, and your eyes slowly droop against your will.  Fuck, his body beats a king size mattress any day of the week.  “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

***

He…

He isn’t.

[missjaystone]

“Don’t Wake Up”

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader | Bucky Barnes x Reader Summary: Work keeps you busy. That's why as long as Steve's gentle and doesn't wake you up, he's free to do what he wants while you sleep, but what he wants is his best friend to feel what he feels. Word Count: 1,800

Trigger Warning(s): Somnophilia, NonCon/DubCon, Drugging Please DO NOT ignore trigger warnings and read at your own discretion.

Life was unpredictable, anybody who knew exactly how their life would go was either omnipotent or the most boring being alive. Early on you learned to roll with life's punches and that's how you were where you were right now. A top SHIELD agent trusted with a great deal of knowledge and an almost insane amount of clearance, working closing with the Avengers. You rose thru SHIELD's ranks fairly quickly, especially for someone of your age. You were mid-level when they unfroze Captain America. You were one of the people entrusted with the task of helping Steve warm up to this new 21st-century society, pun not intended.

Once the initial shock of being thrust into this world had worn off, you and Steve developed a comfortable and vital friendship. You two spoke multiple times a day and saw each other frequently. The two of you were together so often, people used to joke that if one of you was around, the other wasn't far behind and they usually weren't wrong. It was no secret nobody was surprised when Tony loudly made a scene when he saw you two sharing a New Year's kiss. Tony shouting "I knew they'd end up together! I fucking knew it!" to everyone on the Avengers team and a handful of SHIELD agents wasn't how you two intended on exposing your relationship, but life is unpredictable.

Things around you gradually became more complex but that wasn't a surprise, you just kept rolling with the punches. The battle of New York happened, Ultron happened, Hydra's infiltration of SHIELD happened, the team grew, the entire situation with the Sokovia Accords happened, the complexities already on your plates multiplied. Of course, you stuck with Steve thru everything, you never stopped having faith in him. There were a handful of times where you could've turned and stopped fighting but how could you abandon your Captain? You loved him. Over the years all the fights, all the curveballs, everything wore on you both and the two of you had to change with the times and adapt to your surroundings. You were both changing before each other. There were times where you didn't see each other for weeks at a time; Steve would get busy with his missions around the globe and you had a mountain of SHIELD files to deal with; drives that had to be decrypted and stored properly, reports that had to go to a dozen different people, agents to recruit and review, clips to scour with minute details.

Things got a little bumpy when Bucky came to stay at the tower; Steve trying to help his oldest friend get accustomed to everything and you helping any way you could. You couldn't bear the thought of telling Steve when you started to feel uncomfortable around the brunette. The lingering stares, the prolonged hugs, the borderline-peculiar conversations; you brushed it all off. This was a man who spent 70 years as a mind-controlled assassin, he had everything ripped from him and now he had to readjust to modern society. He had to learn how to form relationships again, he had to relearn everything so there were bound to be moments of discomfort as he navigated his way. In all of that, however, you missed the small frowns and brooding moments he had whenever you and Steve were being overly affectionate together. He'd never do anything about it though, you were Steve's. He'd had his fair share of ladies back in their time but you were Steve's girl, you made Steve happy and Bucky couldn't-wouldn't take that from him.

When your workload multiplied again, you weren't as available as you used to be and it wore on Steve a bit. He and his super-soldier stamina had gotten used to a certain level of intimacy that wasn't happening anymore. It came to a head one night when Steve was in the mood but you were too tired to even pretend. Your words were mumbled as you snuggled against your pillow but Steve heard them loud and clear "do whatever you need to get off, baby, just don't wake me up." He asked if you were sure and got a hum in response but that didn't entirely suffice. He gave your shoulders a small shake until you turned to look at him. You looked tired and were so close to kicking him out of bed "Stevie, do whatever you want just please let me sleep."

You two still had sex other times, they were more intimate and personal though. In a mildly humorous way, that seemed to boost your relationship some. You'd wake up the morning feeling surprisingly peaceful for a few minutes before your work to-do list came to mind and Steve found out he enjoyed the idea of doing something he wasn't supposed to. He'd made it into his own little game; how much could he do without waking you up?

Tonight, you had your nose buried in your computer screen and papers were strewn across the bed; you were already exhausted but you still had a number of things to finish. You were pulled out of your hype focused state when the bed dipped beside you. The blue-eyed man offered you a cup of water with a sweet smile "come on, I haven't seen you drink anything in over an hour." You thanked him with a quick peck before taking a long and much-needed drink, thanking him when you set the nearly-empty cup back down.

Time felt like it began to drag on slowly, heavy tiredness slowly enveloping you throughout the next hour. You didn't even realize you'd dozed off until Steve was gently laying you down, pulling the blankets over you. "Steve, I still have work to do," you forced yourself to mumble, everything just felt heavy. "You can't even keep your eyes open, finish it in the morning," he said softly. He hushed you when you tried to object "Captain's orders, doll." You couldn't argue with that. Literally, there wasn't an ounce of strength or a grain of energy to fuel a disagreement. You were out like a light in a manner of seconds.

The blond stayed snuggled up beside you, stroking your hair soothingly to lull you into a deep sleep. No more than ten minutes had passed before the door opened and closed without a sound. An unsure Bucky stood by the dresser with his hands in his pockets and spoke quietly "are you sure about this Steve?" He nodded "I'm positive, Buck. I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't sure about it. I see the way you look at her, you deserve happiness too y'know." Bucky started to question him but Steve stopped him "she'll love you as much as she does me, Buck, it'll take some time and subliminal messages but she will."

Bucky looked at your sleeping form in thought, you were a nice person; you were smart, helpful, genuine, charming, you made him feel normal. He'd never be normal but if having you made him feel that way, who was he to pass up the opportunity? He quickly shed his pajamas while Steve moved your bottoms down. They'd been planning this for what felt like ages and they knew there'd be no going back, but it gave them a chance at a future they got to actually choose.

A thick silence filled the room as Bucky moved slowly to hover above you, lining himself up at your entrance with a slightly-shaking hand. With one last confirmation look from Steve, he slowly eased himself into you. He bit his lip roughly to keep from groaning and wake you up. The crushed-up Valium in your water should've kept you from waking up at anything but he wasn't taking a chance and getting too caught up in the moment. He finally broke the silence with a mumbled groan after finally bottoming out. Bucky's eyes fell closed and he stilled to savor the feeling, almost cumming right then.

Very slowly, he started to pull his hips back before pushing back in just as slowly. He continued like this for what he thought was ages and when the only response from you was a mumble here or a moan there, he slowly picked up his pace. Steve was in heaven watching the scene unfold in front of him. There was a slight pang in his chest for betraying your trust and not only letting but encouraging his friend to use you but he had a plan, a plan he was confident in. He started off palming his throbbing erection over his sweatpants before eventually pulling them down and fisting his member. There were a few moments where both stilled in fear when you stirred before settling. Bucky finished first, his hips jerking briefly before they stilled, a satisfied groan leaving his lips as he moved some hair out of your face. Steve finished when he watched him slowly pull out and came with a muttered 'fuck'. Steve quickly grabbed a few tissues, handing some to Bucky to clean you up while he took care of himself. Once the evidence was removed, the men shared a tight hug. Bucky actually looked a little more like himself now, he looked the slightest bit happier and more at peace.

In your unconscious and drugged state, all that you really felt was a sort of tugging pressure but you couldn't open your eyes. You heard voices conversing quietly after the pressure was completely gone and you felt the bed move as somebody got up. Despite your best efforts to listen, you couldn't make out the words. It took all of your strength to open your eyes even slightly but you could've sworn you saw a brunette figure leaving the room. There was no time to process it before your eyes fell shut again and you were entirely asleep.

You still felt a bit groggy when you woke up in the morning but nothing seemed out of place. Steve was quick to appear with a couple of mugs of coffee, handing you yours before he took a seat. He planted a sweet kiss on your temple. When you didn't say anything after taking your mug, Steve looked you over "are you feeling okay, doll? Are you coming down with something?" He asked, some concern in his eyes as he placed the back of his hand to your forehead for a temperature check. You finally took his hand and kissed his palm, sending him a smile "I'm fine, baby, just a little groggy is all. Crazy dream is all." Steve smiled sweetly at you “wanna talk about it?" An image of Bucky on top of you flashed across your mind and you shook your head “I don’t even remember what it was about.” You kissed his cheek softly and smiled. After all, it was only a dream.