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sehnsuchts-trunken · 6 months ago

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What Happens in Cars, Stays in Cars

dbf!jake seresin x fem!reader 9k words

summary: After a month-long deployment, Jake is finally coming back home. Well, not home home. You're too desperate to wait until you've actually got him home. But who needs home when there's a perfectly good car anyway?

a/n: porn with plot. a lot of plot. and a lot of porn. 18+ obviously. reader is twenty-five in this, jake is forty-seven. as always, a list of things to watch out for:

nudes. mentions of masturbation. pet names used in an unholy way. the word 'brat' is dropped twice. safe sex (yess they still have a condom!!! i feel like i deserve a round of applause for not forgetting it). car sex, so a tiny smidge of exhibitionism. dom!jake. a lot of begging, as always. a tad bit dry humping. first finger sucking, then fingering. any more, uh....? i don't think so. there's not much space in a car for anything else.

top gun masterlist | dbf!jake seresin masterlist

(the gif has nothing at all to do with the fic, but tell me that's not dbf!jake working out in his backyard knowing you're watching him istg)

It's a one time thing. That's what they told him. A one time thing.

He isn't supposed to do these anymore. He's supposed to be stationed permanently, sitting in his office and doing what an admiral does. Important work, surely. It's a high honour and he's proud, of course. But office work... Office work has never really been his thing. And if they'd deployed him for this mission four months earlier, he would've been thrilled.

He's the best of the best. The navy knows. He knows. Which is why he's an admiral by now. And also why they want him coaching the new hotshots for a month, halfway across the country.

And, yes, he would've been thrilled - four months ago.

Four months ago, when you'd not yet moved back home. Four months ago, when he hadn't yet met you. Four months ago, when he hadn't known what it was like to hold you, to touch you, to miss you.

His phone chimes and momentarily distracts him. It's not that he didn't mute it - he's standing in front of a bunch of twenty-something year olds who he does try to be a role model for - it's just that you'd tampered with it once and ever since then, you've had a personalised ringtone that still somehow works even when everything else is muted. (He could totally turn that off if he wanted to, though. Definitely. Ab-so-lu-tely. He just... doesn't.)

His jaw clenches and he has to restart his sentence, but other than that, he manages to pretend nothing happened. Nonetheless, he has to glare at the snickering wannabe-pilots in the first row, who remind him very much of a young version of himself.

You're three hours ahead of him and probably just got off work. It's likely nothing but a sweet "having a good day?" message or maybe a photo of you all dressed up, ready for dinner with your friends like you'd planned.

Either way, knowing your message is sitting unopened in your chat has him talking quicker. He finishes his lecture half an hour early and fishes his phone from his pocket before the first of his pupils have even got up from their seats - which turns out to be a horrible, horrible idea, because the photo attached to "don't know how long i'll stay out, have a nice night, admiral" with the winky face emoji is not one of you all dressed up for a night out with your friends, but one of you in just a pair of panties in front of the mirror. The mirror in his bedroom.

Fucking god-

He seems to let out some kind of choked up groan or something of the sort, because a few of his pilots turn to look back at him. One even has the audacity to ask if he's alright, which he certainly isn't. But that's absolutely not their problem.

So he grumbles something about how they should all use their free time to go to the gym instead of bothering him before he collects his things and flees to his room. One of the many advantages of being an admiral, of course, is that he doesn't have to bunk anymore, which is always the greatest nuisance for anybody who's ever looking for privacy. The times he's had to listen to guys jack off a foot away from him- fuck, the times they'd had to listen to him.

No, right now he is incredibly thankful for the privacy of his bedroom as he locks the door behind him and opens his phone again. Goddamn, why were you in his house? His fingers hover over the call button for a few seconds, but then he decides against it - you're going out with friends for the first time in months, he doesn't want to bother you.

He's popping the button of his jeans and sitting down on his bed right as you come online.

"Like the pictures, baby? I've got more"

And before he can even respond, you've sent a bunch more selfies, half of them in front of his mirror, the other half on his bed and none of them decently clothed. Fucking hell, in one you've got your fingers down your panties and Jake is really thankful for the privacy of his room then because he groans so loudly that a bunkmate would definitely have heard.

"Are you still at dinner?", he asks, his fingers flying over his keyboard while he tugs at his zipper with his left hand.

"Yeah, won't be home soon", you write back. "Sorry"

"Don't be", Jake responds, as quickly as he can, because he definitely does not want to make you feel bad for spending time with your friends. "Have fun"

"Have fun with the pics", you send. Jake can picture your grin, sitting all dressed up in a restaurant and ignoring your friends to text him. "Thought those could maybe make up for no phone call tonight"

He swallows hard as you log off, leaving him with those pretty pictures of yours that certainly improve his night by a lot. Hell, he's already moving his briefs out of the way and clicking on your photos again. Just seeing you half-naked in his room - fuck, the thought of you sneaking over there only to do a goddamn photoshoot... You're really unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. And he can't wait to get back home to you.

...

"I miss you", you mumble into the phone, blinking at the alarm clock on your nightstand. It's eleven thirty, not nearly late enough for you to feel as exhausted as you do.

"I miss you too, darling", you hear Jake drawl on the other end of the call. "I'll be back soon."

"Not soon enough", you whine - god, you sound pathetic and miserable to your own ears already, you must sound ten times worse to him. You fall back onto your pillows and let out a deep sigh. "Would it be rude to say I hope the mission gets cancelled?"

Jake chuckles. Fucking hell, you miss that chuckle so much. You miss him so much. You miss cuddling up to him under the covers and tucking your head under his chin. You miss running your fingers through his hair and having your hands on him. You miss seeing him, standing in the kitchen or working out or tinkering in the backyard or fresh out of the shower. Shit, you even miss sneaking around with him, because at least then you'd gotten to watch him from a distance, maybe steal a kiss when your parents hadn't been looking or spend a night at his house pretending to be at your friend's.

Now he's halfway across the country and absolutely, completely out of reach. You'd barely gotten to see him at all - twice it had worked out to video-call during a lunch break, once he even managed to show you around his office after work. The camera quality is hardly any good, of course, which means video-calls aren't all that great, plus the connection never seems to really be stable, so with a few exceptions, you've only seen Jake in pictures over the past two and a half weeks.

His deployment would take another one and a half and then, finally, he'd be back home. Back home with you.

"I won't answer that", Jake says, and you can almost hear him grin. "But I wouldn't mind either if they moved the mission up."

You have to bite down on your lip to hide a smile.

"So you think you're good to go?", you ask softly, not wanting to bring the mood down further, instead opting for the non-classified work questions. You've already been bringing down the mood enough back here at home - you don't need to fill the few minutes a day you get with Jake with your whining as well. Your parents already hear enough of that. Of course, they don't know why you've been in such a bad mood ever since Jake left. And they can't know, either. You can't tell them. You can't tell anyone.

You can't tell anyone because no one knows that you've been sneaking around with your dad's best friend for the past three months. So you resign yourself to moping around and keeping out of everybody's way as much as you can. For one and a half week more, one and a half...

...

Exactly one and a half week later you're standing at the airport in your best heels and a little yellow sundress and are positively buzzing with nervous energy. Jake's plane would get in at half, he'd said, when you'd last spoken to him six hours earlier. Then the plane had taken off and so had his wifi.

You're playing around with a strand of your hair and doing your hardest not to start chewing off your nails, which proves more difficult than you'd thought (even though you'd put on nail polish).

You're just so excited.

It's been a month since you'd last seen him. A month. And at the early stage of your... relationship, if you could call it that, that's basically half a year. God, how long it's been since you've run your hands through his hair, since you've felt his arms around you.

You miss him so much.

Your phone chimes and you fish it out of your pocket with trembling hands, only to be disappointed when it's not a message from Jake. It's not like you'd told him to text when he'd landed, just... A part of you is kind of scared you're waiting in the wrong place. Maybe he's on the other end of the airport - it's not a particularly small one. It'd take you hours to find each other if you were waiting in the wrong place.

Then again - maybe the plane is late. Maybe he's had to wait for his luggage.

You check the time, just to be safe. It's 11:46. For all you know, Jake is still in the air. Or less than a door away.

You bounce on your feet, nervously shifting back and forth before checking your phone again. The text you'd gotten is from one of your friends, who you text back only to distract you. It barely works anyway. You can't put it away again quickly enough.

It's not even that you don't want to distract yourself. You just physically can't pay attention. You've been a nervous wreck for the past three days, ever since you'd made the plan to pick him up from the airport. Which is probably why you almost don't spot him.

Almost.

He walks through the opened doors with his suitcase rolling behind him, his backpack slung over his shoulder and at least five other people rushing past him.

He sees you before you see him.

But then, then when you see him-

You're already sprinting towards him before your mind even tells your legs to move. You can't control it and you can't be bothered to. Why would you?

You don't care about the people glancing at you with raised eyebrows. You only care about Jake, about Jake who's standing there, pulling his hand from the handle of his suitcase and grinning at you. Grinning at you as you run at him and throw yourself into his arms.

He catches you effortlessly and steadies you as you cross your hands behind his neck and press your lips to his.

God, how you've missed him! How long you haven't kissed him!

His palms flatten against your back and he holds you tight, so tightly to him. You push even closer. He's here. He's back.

You don't realise you're crying until you taste the tears.

That's when Jake pulls back.

"I've missed you", he mutters, raising a hand and brushing the tears off your cheeks. You lean into the touch and tighten your arms around his neck. You're really touching him. He's really here.

"I missed you too", you try to say, but you're choked up and crying and it somehow comes out a blubbering, stuttering mess that you're not quite sure Jake can even understand. "Missed you so much."

He smiles one of those gorgeous smiles that you haven't seen in far too long before he leans down and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. Your eyes flutter closed as you lean into him, your fingers trailing up the nape of his neck. His breath mingles with yours as he draws you in again and catches you in another kiss, tugging gently at your bottom lip as if he has all the time in the world to do it - slow and languid and real. Finally real again.

He pulls you in by your waist, his hands splayed wide and so, so big against your thin sundress. Your nails scratch against his neck and he lets out a groan and suddenly, he's got his hands on your thighs and you're wrapping your legs around his middle and tightening your arms around him and his lips are working against yours feverishly, heavily, messily. You're crossing your feet behind his back when one of them hits something hard. You've flinched away from him even before you can hear the dull crash of his suitcase kissing the airport floor.

There's blood rushing in your ears and you're sure if someone measured your heart rate right now, you'd be sent to the ER immediately. You probably look like a tomato with all the redness in your cheeks. But Jake stares at his suitcase silently for two seconds too, breathing heavily as his grip on you tightens further.

As much as he likes having you in his arms, his suitcase reminds him that you're still very much in the middle of a well-used airport. So he turns back to you and lowers his voice.

"I think we should get out of here, darling."

Your lips tug up into a grin and you lean in to give him just one last, quick kiss.

"Yeah", you breathe, carefully jumping back down onto your own feet. Jake lets go of you only reluctantly - if this wasn't a public airport, he'd never have let you go again. But it is, so he swallows hard as you brush your palms down your dress and blink up at him with a smile.

You're wearing heels. You're still shorter than him by quite a bit.

His amusement melts into a frown when you grab the handle of his suitcase.

"I've got that", he says, reaching his hand out to take the suitcase from you, but you're already maneuvering it away from him and starting to walk in the direction (you think it's the right direction) you'd parked your car in.

"I want to do it for you", you hum.

"Sweetheart, you're already doing enough for me", he says, and he really does mean it. You've driven all this way to come pick him up, you'd watered his plants while he'd been away, you'd even cleaned. That one mostly because you'd desperately needed something to do and Jake's house had always smelled like him, but still.

"Doing enough to you, you mean." Your grin borders on lewd as you dig your teeth into your lip.

"Yeah, that too", he sighs, but he has to grin as well. You're absolutely unbelievable. Instead of trying to argue (he knows it'd be fruitless anyway), he wraps an arm around your back and pulls you into his side, his hand resting on your waist again.

You glance at him.

"I'm not letting go of this suitcase", you warn, even as you lean into his side and swallow. God, he looks so good. And he smells so good. And he feels so good.

"Got it", he chuckles, brushing a kiss to your temple and pulling you even closer into him. He can't have you close enough. Does this fucking airport not have an end? He just needs a little more privacy, a little more space-

"This way", you say and point right. Jake smiles at you as you guide him down the halls. He can't help but watch, can't help but stare at you, at your dress in that soft shade of yellow and your matching heels. Autumn doesn't seem to have caught up with you yet. Then again - autumn hasn't caught up with this place yet. And he's used to Texas heat, he likes that it doesn't get cold here. Also, those sundresses... Yeah, he certainly isn't complaining about the weather.

You speed up when you finally catch sight of the doors, dragging him along with you, almost falling into a jog. The suitcase rumbles against the airport floor, the wheels click-clacking over uneven ridges and bumps and then, thank god, you feel the sunshine on your skin. His hand tightens around your waist.

"Home sweet home", you grin as you take the first step onto concrete. You swivel around and steady both palms against the handle of his suitcase behind your back, bouncing on your heels and looking up at him. "After about a three hour drive."

Jake chuckles and looks back at you with raised eyebrows.

"You'll drive?", he asks. You hum.

"Maybe", you grin as you turn away again and walk over to your car, parked only three rows away for whatever holy reason. You'd been incredibly lucky. And you'd almost run over a grandma. "Or maybe not."

Jake follows you with another low chuckle that sends a pleasant tingling sensation down your spine. It's been so long since you heard that chuckle behind you.

He's next to you again within a few long strides, reaching out for you and you slow your steps to intertwine your fingers with his.

His hands are so big. He's holding onto you so firmly. Fuck, you've missed him so much.

You squeeze his hand and walk a little quicker. Car, home. Car, home. That's it. Then you've got him all to yourself. You can see the car glinting in the sunlight already - and then it's three hours. Three hours next to him in an enclosed space before you've truly got him back.

You stop and let go of his suitcase to fish the car keys out of your pocket without dropping his hand. You push the unlock button and open up the trunk before you turn to Jake and grin at him.

You want to say something, really. It's on the tip of your tongue, still running through your mind, but you've completely forgotten it when you look up at him.

Because while you'd been dragging him to the car, he'd pulled his sunglasses out and put them on and for whatever reason... That kind of does it for you. Holy shit.

"Are those new?", you ask hoarsely and swallow hard, the car keys digging into your palm as you tighten your fist around them. Maybe it's just that you haven't seen him in a month. Or maybe it's the way the sunlight catches his hair, slightly longer than when he'd left. Maybe it's just that with the sun behind him, you've got no choice but to squint at his broad shoulders.

"The other pair broke", Jake explains, letting go of your hand only to wrap his arms around your waist. Fuck, you're just standing there, doing absolutely nothing and he already can't keep from touching you. He has to touch you. He's got to put his arms around you and pull you close. "Why? Don't like it?"

You steady your palms against his chest and let out a breath as your eyes drop to his lips - he's got that cheeky look on his face that's not really a grin but not really not a grin and that nobody but him can do.

"I do", you counter, because it's the truth, and there's no way you can lie to him. "I very much do."

"Very much?" Jake does grin then, raises his eyebrows and pulls you fully against him. "That's more than just a yes."

Your fingers fist his shirt, the car keys digging into his chest just as firmly as they're digging into your palm now. He doesn't seem to be too bothered. He really isn't too bothered.

"They look good on you", you mutter, pulling him even closer. It's been too long since you'd pulled him close... And he feels so good, smells so good, looks so good. Fuck, he's so big and broad and-

"Thanks", he mutters, his grin all cheeky and self-assured and god, is it really this hot? Do you just feel this hot? Because you feel really, really hot. Your skin is burning. How the hell are you supposed to manage a three hour car ride?

"Jake", you whimper, without even meaning to. It's barely above a breath, barely above a whisper, and still too much of a whine to sound anything close to appropriate. A sort of grunt leaves his lips before his arms tighten around you, before he slots his mouth over yours hard. His thumbs drag circles against the small of your back, catching on the fabric of your dress. Your fingertips dig into his shirt, into his chest.

The sun beams down on you, warming your thighs and your arms and every exposed inch of skin, brightness behind closed eyelids as you push further and further into him. He's so sturdy, all hard abs right in front of you, broad arms around you.

You don't even notice the breathless moan that escapes your tongue. You can only feel the heat boiling inside of you, the desperate heat inside of you crawling up your body, every inch of you burning. Burning with want for him. With need for him. Fuck, he's been gone for way too long.

And then he pulls back.

You need a few seconds to even blink yourself back to reality.

"Home?", he suggests, even though it's less of a suggestion and more just a fact. He's getting you home. Now.

"Please", you whine, already halfway through pulling back and dropping the car keys into his palm. Three hours. Three fucking hours, you... You simply won't manage to sit down behind the steering wheel with your skin crawling and your underwear soaked through.

You'll barely manage sitting in the passenger seat.

Jake presses another kiss against your temple before he grabs his suitcase and leaves you standing there, trying to pull yourself together. He's breathing hard and his muscles are tight, his jaw clenched as he heaves his suitcase into the trunk and drops his backpack into it right after.

You force your legs to work, to carry you to the passenger side, force your arm to raise and your hand to close around the handle. It's heavy and hard work. Your body feels leaden, entranced. You let yourself collapse onto the seat and close your eyes.

Fuck.

You'd forgotten how much... how easily...

"Seatbelt, darling", Jake reminds you as he climbs into the driver's seat and adjusts it. You swallow hard and strap yourself in, trying to even out your breathing and pull yourself back to reality while you fumble for the confirmative click.

"Three hours", you remind yourself breathily.

"Three hours", Jake agrees lowly and turns the key in the ignition.

You settle back in your seat and close your eyes, clenching and unclenching your jaw as the radio starts playing and the car rolls out of the parking lot. You just have to relax. Just relax. Relax.

So you breathe out deeply and open your eyes again. Jake glances over at you as you lean forward, flick through the radio channels and then adjust in your seat - it's touching too much, too little of your skin, and the way you're rubbing against it somehow doesn't help in the slightest.

Before you can tuck one of your legs under the other and press the heel of your foot against your core, Jake puts his hand against your thigh. Against your bare thigh. His big fucking hand against your bare thigh.

You bite down on your lip and look up at him.

God, he looks so good. His features are chiseled, his hair that sunny, beachy kind of blond-

"Stop that", Jake grunts, his eyes trained on the road in front of him. It takes you two seconds to even realise he's talking to you. You'd kind of lost yourself in staring at him there.

"Stop what?", you ask, voice hitching as his fingers tighten on your thigh. Damn it, he needs to stop that. He's hardly been driving five minutes, he can't already be teasing you.

For once, actually, he doesn't even mean to tease you - not that you know. He just can't help but touch you, not when he hasn't touched you in a month, not when you're sitting so deliciously, tauntingly next to him.

"Stop looking at me like that", he says, taking his hand off of you to change gears before grabbing even tighter onto you again. "Or I'll have to pull over."

You brush your fingers along his wrist. Your chest feels tight, so tight. It takes everything in you not to push his hand further up your thigh. And you'd actually thought you'd manage a three hour car ride.

"I'll stop", you breathe, even though pulling over doesn't seem like the worst idea. "If you want me to."

A muscle twitches in his jaw.

"Don't do that", he warns, his voice staggering into that indecent gruff of his that has you clenching your thighs together, trapping his fingertips between your legs.

"Don't do what?", you ask, trying your best to sound somewhat innocent while you continue this little taunting game, not as though you're deliberately riling him up. You aren't, really. It's more just a reflex.

He turns his head to you then. His eyes are narrowed and his jaw is clenched and honestly, the way he's meeting your gaze all serious, as though he's trying to reprimand you just by looking at you - for no more than three seconds, of course, before he drags his eyes back to the road - has your lips tugging up in a teasing grin.

"Jake", you whisper, drawing your nails slowly up his arm, all the way from his wrist to his elbow. "Baby. You've been away for so long. You know how lonely I've been, right?"

Jake glances at you again and grunts his agreement, eyebrows raising as he starts to realise what you're doing.

"You can't blame me for looking at you", you go on, digging your fingertips into a spot right above his elbow and drawing one, two circles there. "Or for touching you."

Then you shift in your seat, spread your legs a little and run your fingers down his arm again. You grab his hand and brush his fingertips against the soaked spot on your panties.

"Or for being this wet", you whisper, your breath hitching from the sting in your stomach. He lets out a low curse. "I've just missed you so much."

He sucks in a breath then and trails his fingertips up your panties once, just once, before he jerks his hand back and clenches it hard around the steering wheel, so hard that his knuckles turn wide. Fuck. Fuck! Fuck! You're driving him crazy. You're driving him fucking crazy.

He's supposed to be responsible here. Somewhat responsible. You're young, you've got that risky twinkle in your eyes that he knows so well because he'd seen it in the mirror himself for over twenty years. He knows the thrilling buzz that's running through your veins. He still feels it whenever he's in the air. And he feels it around you.

Which is why he's not responsible, not when it comes to you. Not when you're sitting next to him in that pretty dress, with no shorts on and completely fucking soaked through.

You grin to yourself as he pulls off the highway and bite down on your lip, shifting in your seat once more, fighting the urge to trail your own fingers into your panties.

You haven't even asked how his deployment had been.

But goddamn, you'll have enough time to do that once you've got home. Or got off. Or got him off. At this point, you don't fucking care.

He pulls into one of those parking lots that mainly trucks use, one of those where there's hardly ever a toilet and if, then one that hasn't been usable since the last century. Right now, there's two trucks right at the front that Jake just brushes past. He parks your car at the far end and turns the motor off.

The silence is heavy.

Your breath comes much too quickly. Your eyes are fixed on him. And every inch of your skin is crawling with heat. But you don't move. You can't move.

He rolls his seat all the way back.

"Jake-", you whisper, catching on his name when he looks up and meets your eyes. There's a ghost of a grin on his lips, but... Maybe you're wrong.

"Yes, darling?", he asks, raising his eyebrows and leaning back in his seat. You have to strain your neck to keep looking at him. Instead of an answer, you just softly shake your head. You're suddenly unsure of what to say. His eyes weigh you down. You're painfully aware of every inch of your skin under his watchful gaze.

"Come on", he drawls, the grin that's growing on his lips more obvious now. "You were all eager to talk just then, baby."

Your teeth catch on your lip as you let out a breathless sigh. Your fingers hover over the buckle of your seat belt. Can you? Or...

"I missed you", you whisper, letting your fingertips glide over the hard plastic. "Can I-"

You swallow.

"Can you what, darling?", he repeats, grinning widely now.

You chew on your lip as you push down and unbuckle yourself slowly, your eyes still trained on Jake, who simply watches you with raised eyebrows.

"Can I touch you?", you whisper, your breath disappearing into the thick air of the car, the seatbelt still caught between your fingers. The corners of his mouth only tug up further.

You look angelic with your wide eyes and rosy cheeks, so obviously desperate to feel him - but still you don't move. You sit there and wait for him to tell you what to do. To allow you to do something. Anything. It's almost endearing how well behaved you are in moments like this.

"Go on, darling", he drawls. "Come here."

Without hesitation, you reach over the centre console and grab onto his shoulders, steadying yourself against him as you throw one of your legs over his and climb into his lap. His hands find your waist, grab onto your sides, hold you softly against him. Your teeth dig into your lip as you sink down, your fingers trailing along the outline of his collarbones over his shirt, your dress riding up and pooling around your hips. You suck in a breath when your panties drag against his jeans.

Fuck. It's been so long. It's been way too long.

"Jake", you mutter as you lean in, pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth, brushing your nose against his cheek. "You look good."

He lets out a breathy chuckle, his grip on you tightening.

"I know, darling", he can't help but say with a grin. "Thanks."

You giggle onto his skin as you trail your lips down his jaw. Sometimes he's incredibly unbelievable. I know. How cocky. Not that he shouldn't be - goddamn, he should be! You can't even fault him. And confidence is sexy. Especially on him. Though, then again, anything on him is sexy.

"I've missed you", you mutter, pressing another open-mouthed kiss against his skin, this time against the spot between his neck and his ear. "Missed looking at you. Missed touching you."

"Yeah", Jake breathes, digging his hands into your hips and pulling you harder onto him. "I've missed you too."

He's missed you so fucking much that he's hurting, straining against his jeans so hard that he feels like he might combust. And you're kissing down his throat, pressing your lips against his skin, wanting, needing to touch him, to feel him-

A month away from each other. A month too long.

"I need you, Jake", you whimper into his ear, all breathy and desperate, rocking softly back and forth in his lap and letting your eyes fall shut.

"You need me, baby?", he echoes, grabbing you as tightly as he can and dragging you against him, his head thumping back against the seat.

A filthy moan slips past your lips as your hips roll against his, finally, for the first time in weeks. God, yes, you need him so badly. You need him now. Here and now, in the driver's seat of your car.

"Please, Jake", you breathe, steadying one palm against his chest and grabbing one of his hands with the other. You wrap your fingers around his wrist and tug it off of you, but before you can drag it down to your panties again, drop it between your legs and beg him to fuck you, before you can do any of that, he's turning your grip around and taking your hands in his instead.

"You're getting ahead of yourself, baby", he chuckles, settling your hands against your thighs. He's painfully hard by now, yes- But that doesn't mean you can just drag him to where you want him. "Seems like you forgot your manners."

You're already shaking your head before he can finish. No, you haven't, you haven't, you just need him so badly... and you can feel him, you can feel that he needs you too, so why doesn't he just take you? Why doesn't he-

"I haven't, Jake, I promise", you whisper, looking at him and forcing yourself to still on his lap. It won't help you if you move. It definitely won't help you if you move.

"You haven't?", he asks with raised eyebrows, looking all but amused at you. You keep shaking your head no, no, no. "So if I'd told you to stay in your seat and wait, you would've?"

You bite down on the inside of your cheek and look away. He's grinning. He knows. He's not even really asking. But if you've learnt anything, anything at all about him, it's that he doesn't like to be ignored. If he asks a question, he wants it answered. So you'll answer.

"No", you breathe truthfully, because you most definitely wouldn't have managed a three hour car ride next to him. There's no way you would've managed a three hour car ride next to him. No fucking way.

His grin widens.

"No", he repeats lowly. "No, darling? You wouldn't have listened?"

"Couldn't", you correct, fighting the desire to rock against his thighs that's growing with every passing second. He looks so fucking good. He smells so fucking good. He feels so fucking good. And he'd fuck you so good, you know that, if he'd just finally get to it.

"Couldn't", he echoes, his fingertips rubbing circles onto the bare skin of your thighs. "That desperate."

It's just that he's that desperate, too. Desperate to feel you wrapped around him, desperate to hear you whimper and moan. He needs you as much as you need him.

"You want me to fuck you, baby?", he asks, all smooth and casual and your fingers dig into your thighs to feel something, anything. It's unbelievable how easily something so dirty slips off his lips.

"Yes", you gasp. "Want you so bad, Jake. Please. I'll be so good for you. I'll be perfect."

A muscle ticks in his jaw.

"You are perfect", he breathes, even though that hadn't been his plan at all. But he has to say it. He has to tell you. You've got him wrapped around your little finger, even if you don't know. And he's not all that sure you don't know anyway.

Your teeth catch on your lip, your hands dig harder into your skin and-

And Jake's thumbs trail along the inside of your bare thighs, brushing up naked skin, drawing a shallow breath from your tongue. A shiver runs down your spine as you clench your legs around his and force yourself to keep still. He's touching you. You have to remind yourself of that. He is touching you. There's no reason at all for the urge to defy him, to pop open his jeans and just sink down on him. He's touching you, he's touching you...

Yeah. Barely.

"Let me feel you", you beg, drawing your hands away from your thighs and trying to put them against his chest - but before you can, he's pulled his hands away from your thighs as well and grabbed your wrists. Again.

"You're not in charge here, darling", he chuckles, pushing your hands back down. He grabs for your waist again. "If you can't behave, I'm gonna put you back in the passenger seat and keep on driving, got that?"

You nod.

You want to be good for him. You will be good for him. God, there's no fucking way you could have managed the car ride already, and if you had to sit through it now, after this- No. You'll be good for him. You'll be so good for him.

He flashes you a grin and goes back to dragging his thumbs along your thighs.

"Ask nicely", he says. "Maybe I'll-"

"Please", you blurt out, your hips involuntarily bucking into his touch. "Can I kiss you?"

His eyes drop down to your mouth then.

"Yeah, baby", he mutters, his thumbs catching on the hem of your dress. "You can kiss me."

He expects you to jump at him, to slot your lips over his and lick into his mouth eagerly - but you only steady your palms carefully against his chest and lean in, your eyes focused on his, your breath meeting his skin. You kiss him softly, lightly, with your lips just so grazing his and your eyes fluttering shut. His fingertips run down the soaked spot on your panties.

That's when your teeth catch on his lip. You sink them into his skin gently and tug, your heart missing a beat as he groans into you. He hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them to the side just like you'd hoped, just like you'd begged for.

Jake's right - you're not in charge. But that doesn't mean you don't know what buttons to push to get what you want.

His fingertips trail through your wetness for the first time in a whole fucking month. It's long overdue. So long.

You moan into him, pressing your chest right up against his and fisting his shirt, and push closer. You need to be this close. You need to be even closer. You need him to fuck you, now, not only to drag his fingers up to your clit.

But he's too focused on you, getting too drunk on the feeling of you. He's finally got you here again, finally on his lap again, finally kissing him again, finally eager for him again. He's finally touching you again. And he has to touch you.

You're so fucking wet. You're soaked. He wants to take his time to notice that. He needs to take his time to notice that. He needs to touch you, to feel you. He doesn't even mean to tease you. He doesn't even realise he is teasing you. Not until you rock into his hand and let a whine slip into his mouth.

You really don't intend to. It's an accident. You don't want to rush him. What you want is to be good for him. But you can't help yourself.

And he knows you can't.

Which is the only reason he doesn't pull back and leave you high and dry. Well, that - and his desperation to have you.

So instead, he pushes two fingers into you and catches the languid moan you let out. Fuck. You sound so sweet. You feel so perfect. It's been so fucking long.

"Jake", you whimper, just because it's also been that fucking long since you've whined his name into his mouth. Into the low-quality mic of your phone, yes. But with his lips on yours? With his fingers thrusting inside you so precisely, hitting the right spot immediately? No, that's been too fucking long.

It's dirty. Not quick, like the other times neither of you had been patient enough to look for a better spot to have each other and had opted for the car instead. No, it's just dirty, with his fingers pumping in and out of you, his tongue running along yours and your knees rubbing against the seat.

Maybe it's because the radio had turned off alongside the car, or maybe it's just the long month you'd spent apart - either way, all sounds are louder than they should be, your ears ringing with your moans, your wetness around his fingers and his lips against yours.

Goddamn.

He's working magic. You don't know how he hits the right spot again and again and again, his fingers curling, his thumb catching on your clit - but he has you clenching around him, warmth pooling in your core, wetness dripping down your thighs and onto his jeans within minutes.

You pull an inch away from him, your eyes still squeezed shut, your palms flattening against his shirt, and the only reason he knows he isn't just dreaming of you again is because you're warm and wet around his fingers. Everything else about you is unreal.

You're gorgeous. You're so damn stunning, rocking your hips back against him and moaning his name, your lips parted and your skin sweaty.

"Fuck", you pant, your chest rising and falling so tantalisingly that his eyes drop right down to your cleavage. "Just like that."

He has to grin to himself, but he lets it slide, if only because you're looking so pretty holding onto him as he pushes his fingers into you and circles your clit - just like that. Again and again, until you're digging your nails into his chest and catching your lip between your teeth and moaning his name, Jake, baby, fuck, fuck, fuck, until you're clenching around him and shuddering in his arms, until you're reaching your high not on your own, but on his fingers for the first time in four full weeks.

"Attagirl", he mutters, straining so hard against his pants that it hurts. "I've got you."

You press your lips against his jaw sloppily as you come down, your breath shallow, your skin burning, just needing to get your mouth on him. You can feel your heart beating, every thud, thud, thud against your chest. God. You hadn't come like that in a month. You'd come, sure, to the low rumble of his voice over the phone, calling you all sorts of sweet names and telling you just how to get off for him. But nothing could ever possibly beat the way he works you.

And still - even as you come down from your orgasm, you already crave the next, long and lust and hunger for him inside of you, not his fingers, but his cock.

"Jake", you mewl, slotting your lips over his and desperately dragging your tongue over them before you draw back an inch, your breath meeting his. "Fuck me? Please?"

He pulls his fingers out of you and raises his hand and before you can even really realise what you're doing, you're parting your lips and watching as he grins and presses his fingertips down on your tongue. God, he fucking tastes like you. You suck his fingers into your mouth obediently and lick them clean, looking at him out of lowered, half-lidded eyes and he fucking grabs at your waist with his other hand like his life depends on it.

Goddamn, it's been too long since he's watched this. Since he's had this sight in front of him. And holy mother of hell, what a sight that is.

Your cheeks hollowed out, your gaze caught on his, your lips wrapped around his fingers. His jeans are too tight. Too fucking tight. He needs relief. Now.

So he pulls his fingers out of your mouth with a low grunt and fumbles with the button of his jeans, quick and hurried. He's barely popped it open before your hands slip between his and push them out of the way. You drag down his zipper, reach into his briefs, finally, finally, finally! and he lets you, steadying his palms against your thighs and watching you tug your lip between your teeth.

"Condom", you breathe, then you glance up at him and blink - once, twice, thrice to get yourself back to reality. Condom. Condom, fuck, you're sure you've got one, you know you've got one, somewhere-

Jake takes his hand off your thigh and reaches for his pocket, pulling out a condom before you've even finished thinking.

You grab it from him almost reflexively, your fingers closing around it, tearing it open - quick and frenzied now, because you're not sure how much longer you can hold out. How much longer you can manage without having him.

You glance up at him before you roll it onto him, waiting, checking, if you can, if he'll let you- And how could he not? Fuck, he's got to clench his jaw and grab onto your waist just to hold back, to stay still. He hadn't meant for it to be like this. He'd meant to fuck you back at home, slow and steady, preferably in bed where he could really see you, where he could see every inch of you, not in the front seat of your car that he'd probably have to get cleaned tomorrow. But he can't fucking help himself. He can barely fucking wait until you've rolled the condom onto him, already grabbing at your bare thighs, slipping his hands below your dress, grasping at your stomach.

You steady your palms against his chest and breathe out a whine as his fingers slide across your boobs, pushing the fabric of your dress up, up, up, circling your nipples and damn, you've missed him. You've missed him so fucking much. It's been so fucking long. And you're so fucking desperate.

So you slowly sink down on him and let out a moan, rolling off of your tongue so filthily that he has to groan. Shit, shit- You hold yourself against him, drop your head against his shoulder and an open-mouthed kiss onto his skin.

"Fuck", he grunts, his fingers working frenzied circles onto your boobs, trying, desperately, no, needing to touch you, to feel you. God, you feel so good around him. Finally around him again. You take your time sinking down on him, catching your breath and pressing your lips against his neck, your eyes squeezed shut. Inch by inch, you take him - and the only way he can keep from bucking up into you is by trying not to concentrate on the way you feel around him (so, so fucking perfect), but instead do his best to breathe. Just... breathe. It's been too fucking long. And you're too fucking pretty. And he'll go fucking crazy.

"Jake", you mewl, your lips dragging against his jaw.

Instead of an answer, he turns his head and catches you in a kiss.

You whine into his mouth, your legs clamping around his, stilling as you adjust, your tongue running along his lips, his teeth, your hands fisting his shirt, clenching and cramping and pressing against his chest.

"Go on", he urges, pulling away no more than an inch, his breath shallow, mingling with yours. "Take what you want, darling."

"Fuck", you breathe, arching into his palms and steadying yourself against him, your teeth catching on your lip as you move - up, slowly, steadily, then down, faster, quicker, and again, and again. Holy hell. Moan after moan rolls off your tongue. He feels so fucking good. You're so fucking full of him. You find a rhythm, then that spot inside of you. Your head tilts back, your fingers clench into the collar of his shirt, your nails scratch against his skin.

He watches you, every inch of him tensing. You're gorgeous, so damn gorgeous, bouncing in his lap like this. You're stunning, your dress pooling around your hips as he drags his hands back down to your waist, thumbing at your stomach, circling and drawing against your skin. He's touching you. Now, here. It's not just a dream. It's not just his imagination. It's you, you, wrapped around him, moving up and down him, your palms against his chest, your eyes fluttered shut, your teeth digging into your lip.

"Just like that, keep going", he encourages, all low and deep, smooths his hands down your body and can't help but grin as you let out a soft mewl. It's been so long since he's heard you whine for him - so long since he's heard it without hundreds and hundres of miles between you, without the microphone ruining what have to be the sweetest sounds he's ever known. "Feeling good, baby?"

The air is heavy, heavy and sticky. It presses down on you, pushes against your skin, settles on your body and flattens your breath. Every single one of your nerve ends is on fire.

"Yes", you gasp, your eyes fluttering open to take him in, him in all of his very, very real glory right in front of you. He looks so handsome, so fucking handsome. Your thighs tighten, clench. You can feel yourself growing closer and closer and closer with every stroke, with every time you sink down on him. Fuck, he doesn't just feel good, he feels heavenly. He feels like everything you need. "So good, Jake."

The grin on his lips sends sparks through your body. It's confident, self-assured... Yeah, you're on top of him, you're moving, you're taking what you want - but he's in charge, you can see it in his eyes. He's in control. It's in the way he breathes, in the way his hands grab at your hips, in the way he palms at your skin. If it weren't for the red on his cheeks, for the sweat beading on his forehead, you wouldn't even have guessed he's all that affected. But he's hard, he's hard as a rock, and it's taking everything in him not to just buck up into you and come right on the spot.

He prides himself on his stamina. In all his years, he's always prided himself on his stamina - on how he can keep going long enough to make you come twice, thrice. And he'll hold out now, too.

But you're gorgeous. And you feel perfect. And you're close, you're clenching around him as you lean in to press your lips to his, to slot your mouths together and kiss him with all your might.

So you're not making it easy for him. Not at all.

He brushes his hand down to the inside of your thigh, leaves a trail of tingles on your skin before his finger finds your clit. You breathe out a whine that he easily catches on his tongue, your nails digging into his chest as he draws circles on your clit, on that sensitive bundle of nerves that has you melting, your eyes squeezing, squeezing, squeezing shut.

Fuck, fuck, you're close, you're close-

Just for a fleeting second, Jake debates pulling his hand away again and leaving you there, on this edge you're teetering on. Not forever, only until you'd got home or so. But he's too desperate to come, too wound up already, too close himself, and there's a much bigger part of him that wants to just fill you up in the driver's seat of your car, in this random parking lot, a month after he'd last had you. The part of him that will revel in knowing that you'll be sitting in the passenger seat for the next three hours with soaked panties, probably leaving behind a wet patch when you'll get out, the evidence of two orgasms right there-

"Fuck, Jake", you gasp and your head rolls back, your lips parting as your entire body clenches, every single muscle cramping and tightening at once, your nails digging hard and harder into his skin, your eyes squeezing shut. His finger on your clit doesn't still, just keeps drawing circles, keeps guiding you through your high, through the foggy haze you're swimming in as your body writhes and tingles.

Jake is too entranced, too enamoured, too captivated by you to even realise he's spilling inside the condom, coming as you do. He can't feel, can't see, can't touch anything but you - his hand grabs at your hip, it palms at your thigh. Anything to feel you. Anything to be with you as you unravel.

"Jake, fuck", you breathe, a lot more softly now. Your grip on him loosens. He'd barely noticed how your nails had still been digging into his chest, but now that you're pulling them away, stretching your fingers and steadying your palms flat against him, he can't help but miss them. You blink at him with the sweetest smile, your lips plush and kiss-swollen, and the view of you is so disarming that he can just so resist opening his mouth and letting those final three words roll off his tongue. But it's too early, it's way too early, even as you're sitting in his lap, even as you're squeezing his cock, even as he draws his finger away from your clit. He's never been the type to say it early. He won't now.

No, instead he raises his hand and rests his fingers against your lips. Once more today, you part them obediently and wait until he's pushed them onto your tongue. Then you close your mouth around them - he still tastes of you faintly - and suck, slathering them in saliva in that sloppy, messy, dirty way you know he likes, your head bobbing as you clean them off. You pull back just far enough to dig your teeth into his fingertips and bite down on them playfully.

Your lips tug into a grin as he draws his hand back, eyebrows raising, his gaze settling on you - still so very heavy, so intense, so fucking full of sex.

"You're a brat, darling", he chides, but he's already brushing strands of hair out of your face, tucking them behind your ears and then wrapping his arms around you to pull you even closer, even tighter to him. Your grin only grows as your fingers clench into the collar of his shirt.

"Maybe", you laugh breathily, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his lips, one that's so addicting he thinks he might need to stay in this car, in this parking lot for the rest of eternity. "But you love it."

Jake chuckles as he chases after your lips.

"Such a brat."

#x reader #dbf!jake seresin #dbf!jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #dbf!jake seresin smut #jake seresin smut #jake hangman seresin #top gun #top gun x reader #hangman x reader

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circeyoru · 8 months ago

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Suddenly I had an idea for the series unwanted soul (⁠◠⁠‿⁠・⁠)⁠—⁠☆

what would happen if the reader encountered cursed cat Alastor and saved it the same way they saved Alastor. The cat will cling to the reader and will bite anyone who tries to get close, including Alastor him self <⁠(⁠￣��︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>

Go to MASTERLIST for the works. This ask is for {Unwanted Souls}.

OMG!!! That's a good doodle!!!! I like calling it Bambi. (it's not like Alastor knows what Bambi means, am I right?)

Okay. 2 ways this can go. Before and after Alastor's save that you found Bambi.

If it was before finding and saving Alastor.

You would get attached to it quick. And you saved it too? It's attrached to you. The creature was something of an odd cat to you because it had the ears and tail of a deer, so you had to call it Bambi. Yup. There's nothing against you distanting yourself from animals, they were something you like when you were alive. But you never had a cat before and want one. So this was the perfect opportunity! You got it healed up quick with your powers and gave it a nice home or hospitality for a while. When it was all healed up, you opened the door and asked if it wanted to leave. You watched with bated breath as Bambi took slow steps to the opening of the door. It paused and stared at you, you thought it was saying goodbye so you waved bye to it. Then it somehow managed to close the door shut and cling to you after scaling you like a cat post. "I guess means you're staying, Bambi!" Then Alastor enters your life. You save him the same, but Alastor got annoyed when there's a cat version of himself in your care. His fixation on you was even faster and stronger when there's Bambi around you. Even worse when you showed it more affection than Alastor himself and the cat was taunting Alastor all the time.

If it was after finding and saving Alastor.

The meeting was a bit funny. There was a weird sense of deja vu when you saved the cat thing. You thought it was Alastor trying to get your attention again but in a cat form. So you picked it up and gave it a weaker healing so it wasn't dying on you. "Come on, Alastor, let's get you home." You got home and set Alastor into the sink, washing off the semi-dry blood on it. You mutter and scolded it, still thinking that it was Alastor. When the front door opened and closed, then there were quick footsteps to where you were, you got confused real quick. Turning around, you saw Alastor. "Dear! Why did you leave without me!? What if some lowly demons were preying on you?! What would I— What is that?" "I thought this was you." You blinked twice, looking at the cat in your sink. "Guess it wasn't?" Alastor was against you keeping the thing, even offended when you named it Bambi. Why does it have a cute name that doesn't match its disgusting appearance? (the pot calling the kettle black....) He was fighting for your attention already, now he has to share? No!

No matter the cases, in the end, Alastor and Bambi set aside when it comes to protecting you and making you happy. Their personalities are the same, just different forms. Their obsession is the same, you.

But when it comes to fighting for your attention and affection. All's fair in love and war.

#Circe's Nighty Writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #yandere alastor #yandere alastor x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel imagines #Unwanted Soul #cursed cat alastor

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livlaughloveluke · 4 months ago

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NSFW ALPHABET WITH LUKE CASTELLAN…

warning! this fic contains- a lot of nsfw headcannons, all varying. soft!dom!luke. afab reader.

18+ mdni !

(also keep submitting your guys nasty thoughts i love reading them lowkey & do you guys want dark luke version?)

A = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

luke’s all over you after sex, holding you in his arms and asking dozens of questions to make sure you liked it and aren’t hurting. he massages your plump skin, trying to soothe any future soreness and because he likes to touch you in a non-sexual way. unless you want it be, of course.

B = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

his favorite part of himself would have to be his hands. he loves to make you writhe and squirm on his fingers, curling and pumping them inside your wet heat. it’s also so easy for him to grab and manhandle you as he pleases with the size of them.

as for you, he loves your thighs. he doesn’t care about the size or any scars, he’s just completely obsessed with squeezing the flesh. it could be while he’s sitting next to you at the bonfire or while he’s eating you out, but he is always groping them somehow.

C = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

at camp half-blood, there’s a low supply of condoms and birth control is only given out for medical reasons, so he’s usually forced to pull out. most of the time he likes to cum in your mouth, and occasionally on your tits. although, there was this one time you let him cum inside, on the promise that he bought some plan b from the dionysus kids, who snuck out into the city every so often and stole a bunch of shit.

D = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he likes to be dominated. it started one night when you felt frisky and rode him, whispering praises into his ear while bouncing carelessly. something snapped inside his brain that day, and he developed a new desire to be under your control. but he has a reputation to uphold, so it’s rare he let’s you take charge.

E = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he’s definitely not inexperienced. luke’s a good looking guy, so it’s no surprise that he’s had a few girlfriends before you. he grew to be decent in bed, knowing how to get a girl off while still pleasing himself. with that being said, he still had a lot to learn while dating you. there’s no real porn in camp besides some old playboy magazines his brothers stole, so he just had to go off what he heard girls liked.

F = favorite position (this goes without saying)

luke likes to stick with the classic missionary, mainly to see your face and your tits, but also because of his lack of knowledge to other positions. if he’s had a bad day and feeling rough, he’ll try doggy, although it usually ends in him flipping you around and fucking you on your back.

G = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

typically he’s pretty serious, too busy spewing out mindless praises to crack a stupid joke. every once in a while he’ll softly laugh at something dumb, but that’s mainly him just being pussy drunk and happy at everything.

H = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

not clean shaved, but well trimmed. he’s got a little bit of a bush, but nothing dramatic or anything that would irritate your skin.

I = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he grew up treating women with uttermost respect, and thinks sex is only for real relationships. in other words, he’s not a believer in hook up culture. luke’s only interesting in fucking if there’s strings attached, mainly because there’s a strong chance of him falling in love after getting intimate with someone.

J = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

the hermes cabin is packed, so there’s not a lot of places for him to jack off. if he can’t see you and is really desperate, he’ll do it quietly and quickly in the shower, but overall, he doesn’t feel the need to that often. i mean, why use his own hand if he can use yours?

K = kink (one or more of their kinks)

he’s typically a vanilla person, besides the whole secret sub kink. unless we’re talking about post tlt dark!luke, in which case that’s a whole other story. (would you guys want a different alphabet based on that?) but anyways, he’s got a huge thing for praise. complimenting you helps him get off on it’s own, but when you turn the tables and start telling him how good he’s doing, that’s when he really starts feeling it.

L = location (favorite places to do the do)

basically any private places around, whether that be one of the empty cabins or a secluded spot in the woods. with no other alternatives, he’ll find a way to make anywhere work.

M = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

literally just you. he’s fascinated with anything you do, even something as simple as brushing your teeth or waking up all disheveled and groggy in the morning. that doesn’t mean he sees everything as sexual, but there’s nothing more of a turn on at night than you.

N = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

not really into anal, just prefers just good old p in v. if you asked he would be willing to try, but he wouldn’t never suggest it. he knows it can be really painful, and he wouldn’t want to hurt you for his own pleasure. this includes pegging, mainly because it sounds like it would hurt him.

O = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he loves loves LOVES giving head. there’s nothing hotter to him than eating you out, and sometimes you have to pull him away because he’s still going after your second orgasm. and he’s so good at it, too. he knows every every spot that makes your moan like the back of his hand.

he’s into receiving head, too. the innocent look you send up while on your knees and kitten licking the tip makes him go fucking insane.

P = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

like mentioned before, he’s a believer in intimacy. it usually includes slow and hard thrusts and him taking his time with you. although sometimes at the end, he speeds up, eagerly chasing both of your highs.

Q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

not really big on quickies, but with such a busy schedule, it tends to happen more often than not. again, he’s big on taking it steady, so a quick fuck behind the shed isn’t ideal.

R = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

if you’re cool with it, he’s most likely cool with it, or at the very least he’ll try. he’s down for some risk, as long as it’s not hurting anyone. sometimes you’ll fuck in semi-public places just for the risk of getting caught, although no where near any kids.

S = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he’s good at lasting a while, but not at multiple rounds. if you’re just going straight at it, he could last for a maybe twelve minutes, depending on the situation. but he can also make himself finish quicker if needed. as for rounds, usually it’s just one or two.

T = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

honestly, i don’t think owns any toys. it’s hard to his hands on get condoms alone, so he can’t even imagine trying to get any sort of toys. (he would find a way if you asked, though) he prefers it plain and simple, just using his body to help you climax.

U = unfair (how much they like to tease)

surprisingly, he’s always down for some teasing. nothing painfully time consuming, but just a minute of running his dick through your folds before sticking it in. although he hates when you tease him, and won’t hesitate to take what he wants if you’re acting up.

V = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he groans a little, but in most situations you two are forced to be somewhat quiet. if you’re on top, he’ll occasionally just moan and whimper.

W = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he’s gotten off untouched while eating you out before. you were in an empty cabin, eyes rolled back and letting a few hushed moans slip, and he couldn’t stop himself from cumming in his pants as you climaxed.

X = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

more length than girth, but he’s definitely got something. about 6inches, maybe 7 inches while hard?

Y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

decent, but not anything crazy. he’ll do as much as you like, or as little. anything to keep you happy.

Z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he’s out almost immediately once he’s checked up on you and cleaned you up. he doesn’t mean too, but how can he help it when your cradled in his arms?

#luke castellan #luke castellan smut #percy jackson #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan blurb #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan headcanons #luke castellan imagine #percy and annabeth #pjo

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daniclaytcn · 7 months ago

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What do you think are the fandom ~~classic buddie fics?

i think this is a very subjective opinion, but i can tell you which fics i really love and constantly re-read—and which, in my opinion, should be read by everyone in the fandom :)

Leave the Light On (I'll Be Coming Home) by @hmslusitania Rated M | 44k | Completed Summary: An accident on a call leaves Buck with custody of Chris after Eddie is... missing presumed. While they navigate their new family circumstances—and fight to stay together, despite Eddie's parents' best efforts—a John Doe wakes up in a coma ward with no memory of his own life beyond the knowledge he has a son named Christopher and, somehow, he needs to get home.

a bleeding sun on a silver screen by rarakiplin Rated M | 130k | Completed Summary: One day, Buck will tell an interviewer that he would be happy to make movies with Eddie Diaz until the day he dies. But first, years before that, he sees Eddie for the first time on the set of Chimney’s fifth movie. (or, the actors au)

i want your midnights by @littlespoonevan Rated T | 36k | Completed Summary: In which Eddie decides to rent out his spare room to help with mortgage repayments right around the time Buck decides to move out of Abby's place after some not so gentle prodding from Maddie. It's a coincidence. Or serendipity. Or maybe just really good timing.

maybe we'll make something by @buckactuallys Rated E | 76k | Completed Summary: On a road trip with Christopher, Buck and Eddie finally work through their various traumas, and Eddie faces his parents again.

what a heart can do by @bvckandeddie Rated T | 86k | Completed Summary: In which Buck becomes the guardian of the daughter he never knew he had. Together, they discover what happiness truly means to them.

Hot Ghost Problems by ebjameston Rated T | 40k | Completed Summary: Eddie is the newest firefighter at the 118. Buck is the ghost haunting the 118. Unfortunately for both of them, Eddie's also a witch and needs to put Buck's spirit to rest, because that's what witches do. Turns out, Buck's spirit? Super not interested in being put to rest. Very interested, however, in flirting with Firefighter Diaz, who is just trying to survive his candidate year. (Also turns out, Buck? Super not dead.)

Both Blade and Branch by @cal-daisies-and-briars Rated M | 62k | Completed Summary: The chances of being struck by lightning twice are incredibly minute, but Buck still manages to pull it off. During a double date with Marisol and Natalia, nonetheless. Eddie manages to resuscitate him, but as Buck recovers from yet another trauma, Eddie can’t help but notice there’s something very different about him. He’s not quite sure what version of Buck he got back.

we're not in love (but the sex is good) by elless Rated E | 15k | Completed Summary: Eddie is new to LA. Feeling lonely, he goes to a bar for a drink and meets a beautiful stranger that kisses like a dream. What starts as a one night stand quickly moves to frequent no strings sex. When circumstances lead to them spending time together out of bed, Eddie realizes he’s attached to Buck in a way he never planned for.

for all the haunts and homes of men by euadnes Rated M | 113k | Work in Progress Summary: The year by the old calendar is 2025. Home is gone. Home is a failed rescue mission and an echo of a memory. Home is a lost boy living in a wooden house by the sea. But first, there was a promise. Christopher, when it's safe, I'll take you back to your father. Buck had all but given up on keeping it after the world had died and everyone in it. But just as some oaths refuse to be forgotten, so the same can be said about the endurance of love.

things we shouldn't do by Ingu Rated T | 21k | Completed Summary: The one where Buck and Eddie accidentally get set up on a blind date with each other, and everything snowballs from there.

#i know there's probably a ton i'm missing but these are some really good ones to start with!#neethu answers #anon #fic rec #i read for all the haunts and homes of men recently and let me tell you. this fic. this goddamn fic. it made me cry like a baby.

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venus-haze · 2 years ago

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Love Is a Ring on the Telephone (Homelander x Reader)

Summary: When work calls you away from New York, Homelander can’t bear how much he misses you.

Note: Gender neutral reader and no descriptors are used. This fic is fluffy (and shorter than what I usually write) but still a little dark, and takes place vaguely during season 2. Inspired by Bruce Springsteen’s and Patti Smith’s versions of Because the Night (I actually got inspired for a few fics based on various lines in the song). Do not interact if you are under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Some possessive behavior and emotional manipulation (it’s Homelander). Do not interact if you’re under 18.

Homelander stared at the calendar taped to the wall in a desperate hope that he could somehow will time to race forward, and you’d be back home. He missed you terribly, spending the past few nights in your shoebox apartment he had yet to convince you to move out of. It was too cramped and loud for his liking, between your neighbors and the street noise, but he hadn’t realized how attached he’d become to it until you were gone.

He went as far as pulling on one of your sweatshirts to sleep in, just because it still smelled like you. It was only day two of your five day business trip to a conference in Los Angeles, but each day without you felt like a week that dragged on endlessly. He’d been on bullshit missions from Vought that went longer, ones where he couldn’t even contact you until he returned, his insides shredded to bloody mush at the lingering anxiety that maybe in his absence, you found someone else.

From the moment he stepped into the disgustingly crowded airport with you, a melancholy swept over him. He offered to fly you to your hotel in LA himself, frustrated when you decided to do things the pedestrian way. At least his presence allowed you to skip the security line that stretched all the way back to the bag check as he graciously took selfies with each TSA agent. After all, you couldn’t be a threat if you were with The Homelander of all people.

He would’ve gone with you, if it weren’t for the ‘Dawn of the Seven’ promotions that Ashley couldn’t get him out of. She nearly threw up while breaking the bad news to him, and he could hear her heart racing even as she practically sprinted down the hallway after he dismissed her. Reluctantly, he stayed behind while you went away, gritting his teeth through every interview and guest appearance. Having been paraded around plenty of Vought conferences himself, he knew damn well plenty of people used them as an excuse to get drunk and fuck around without their significant others’ knowledge.

He huffed, turning away from the calendar and practically rolling his eyes at himself. You’d proven time and time again that he could trust you, that you were the one for him. Still, his self-assurance did nothing to abate the sourness in his stomach, and suddenly, he’d pulled out his phone, ear pressed to the screen as the dial tone rang almost mockingly. He paced the kitchen floor, glancing at the clock on the wall. A little past one in the morning on the West Coast, but you wouldn’t mind if he woke you up.

“Baby? It’s late,” you yawned, the mundane noise making Homelander’s nerves settle slightly. “Is everything okay?”

He chewed his bottom lip, feeling like a schoolgirl calling her crush for the first time, almost instinctively reaching to play with a non-existent phone cord. There was neither pride nor shame when it came to you, only the affection and devotion that he’d spent his life longing for. Your presence soothed him, but your absence made his heart wrench in his chest.

“Missed you,” he said softly.

“I miss you too. This conference is so boring. The people are weird, and I haven’t gotten a chance to see anything in LA.”

“What’s there to see? You’ve got a hot blond at home,” he said.

Your laughter made him feel indescribably lighter, even when it became muffled by your hand covering your mouth.

“There aren’t palm trees in New York, smarty.”

“If you wanna see palm trees, I can think of at least five places I can take you that are nicer than LA.”

“I read that some palm trees grow in the Mediterranean, like Greece and Italy.”

“We’ll have to go one day to see, huh?”

You enthusiastically agreed, and he clung to your every word as you described your dream vacations in detail. He’d bring you everywhere, wrapped tightly in his arms from the moment he took off in New York until the two of you inevitably ended up in bed somewhere beautiful and secluded, where you could truly be alone together.

He wondered what you’d think of moving out of the city, maybe to one of the smaller beach towns out on Long Island or somewhere more secluded in the Catskills. Either way, he’d have a commute for the first time in his life, but he could deal with a quick flight to Vought Tower if it meant waking up beside and coming home to you each day. After years of clamoring for the adoration of the masses, millions of people cheering his name and going into a frenzy in his presence paled in comparison to the sincerity in your voice and steady heartbeat whenever you told him that you loved him.

Often, he felt like no one else knew what being in love was like, otherwise they wouldn’t make him go on asinine press tours or send you away to the opposite side of the country for a conference. Something so passionate and all-consuming as what he felt for you couldn’t be ruined by distance, and though he could listen to you talk on the phone all night, it wasn’t the same as being able to see and feel you. He’d grown far too accustomed to the warmth and gentleness of your touch, the way your eyes lit up for him and nobody else.

A loud bang and the sound of drunk chatter outside your room interrupted your voice, and though no human could have heard the commotion so clearly, he could, and his lip curled in response. You immediately apologized, ranting about the people at the conference, most of whom you found uppity and unpleasant, finding networking with them at panels and meals more of a chore than an opportunity.

He looked at your refrigerator, colorful magnets holding up your handwritten lists and reminders, but his gaze was focused on the selfie of the two of you on your second date to the Bronx Zoo just a few months prior. You’d taken the time to get the photo printed and displayed in a spot that was domestic and sentimental, somewhere you and anyone else who entered your place could easily see. His hands suddenly felt cold in your physical absence, and a lump formed in his throat as he found himself on the verge of tears.

“If it’s such a drag, you should just leave early and come home.”

“Baby, you know I can’t—“

“I’ll take care of you,” he promised softly, the ‘from now on’ was unspoken, but from the way he could hear your breath faintly hitch over the phone, he knew you understood.

“Okay,” you whispered. “Will you come get me?”

“I’ll be there before you blink.”

“I’ll keep my eyes wide open for you.”

He smiled, letting out a soft chuckle at your words. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“That’s impossible.”

You were quiet for a moment. “Can’t I try?”

“You don’t need to try. Just being mine is enough, darling.”

Everything in his life had gone to shit so fast, but not you, never you. He’d raze cities to ash before letting you go, before possibly losing the warmth that enveloped him at the thought of you and how much you loved him. Even if he could bottle the feeling, inject it into his veins whenever he pleased, he wouldn’t, not when he had you by his side. He wasn’t sure if anyone could compare. As much as he wished he’d met you sooner, he supposed later was better than never.

You ended the phone call, your voice soft and melodic as you once again professed your love to him. He did the same before hanging up, hastily grabbing one of your sweaters from your closet. You’d always get cold while flying with him. He brought the knitwear to his nose, the scent of your fabric softener and a hint of your perfume almost making him dizzy. Wasting no more time, he left your apartment to make it to Los Angeles before you could fall back asleep.

He knew which hotel you were staying at and the room number, having texted it to him before you left. Of course, he’d memorized the details, and within half an hour was hovering outside of your eighth floor hotel room window, which you gladly opened for him. You were in your pajamas, your small suitcase packed on the bed.

“My hero!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around him and pressing a playful kiss to his cheek.

Your lips on his skin made it feel like he was on fire, and he took your face in his ungloved hands, kissing you desperately as your sweater fell to the floor. Two days had suddenly transformed into a lifetime of longing and separation, and as he slipped his tongue into your open mouth, he did so with the intention of savoring you, getting as close to devouring you as he could.

Squeezing his hips to steady yourself only encouraged him further, a groan rumbling from deep in his chest. Sometimes, you made it so hard for him to have any self-control, and in those moments he almost lamented his powers. His strength made your being with him inherently dangerous, yet despite the risks, you willingly sought out his embrace and intimacy.

“Always yours,” he muttered huskily against your lips.

You looked at the sweater on the floor, smiling at the gesture. “Thanks.”

“Can’t have you catching pneumonia on the way home, can I?” he said as you pulled the sweater on.

You grabbed your suitcase off the bed, and he took it from you with ease, holding it in one hand, his other arm firmly around your waist. He’d flown you plenty of places before, and though you were no longer nervous like the first time he took you flying, he loved how you clung to him anyway.

#homelander x reader #the boys x reader #homelander x you #homelander imagine #the boys #the boys amazon #the boys tv

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theneighborhoodwatch · 23 days ago

Note

Do you have any initial thoughts on the update? I have so many crossing my mind.

[rubbing my hands deviously before remembering i should put this under the cut so people can avoid in-depth spoilers]

first - between this latest update and The Homewarming Incident, i'm beginning to notice A Pattern of home reacting very quickly when they either see an opportunity to have the spotlight on them, or if they think said spotlight is being taken away from them. consider for a moment how most of wally's dialogue this update was just him speaking on home's behalf. and i mean - the homewarming party was supposed to be for them. it's in the name, after all. they don't seem to have many qualms about sacrificing another neighbor's wellbeing for it, either. i wonder if they were even counting on the neighbors generally not having the Best emotional problem-solving skills to take care of the rest, or on neighbors like eddie or poppy being less likely to speak up if they went just a bit too far in getting them out of the way for a while. it has to be frustrating, being rooted to one spot and only being able to be part of a scene once other people happen to wander by. i imagine it'd be very easy to resort to doing anything to make that happen. i also imagine that you'd get very attached to the one person who always comes back at the end of the day, and that it's very important that it stays that way.... much to think about.

anyways. let's ALSO talk about the ending to the awayfrompryingeyes version of the video! the little bit of the storyteller's conversation that we hear when they stop narrating, the fact that the two people we hear at the end of the audio clearly Sound a lot like sally and frank but are left unidentified in the transcript - i don't think it's a huge reach to guess that this is the first we're hearing of the actual playfellow staff. y'know, voice actors, puppet handlers, etc etc. but then... is that poppy at the end of the video? or is it her actor/handler? if it's the latter, when did poppy leave the scene? where does poppy end and poppy's actor begin?

to elaborate: i've written a lot about how the horror of a puppet's existence in welcome home is that they cannot exist without being maneuvered around by something so much bigger than them (if not in literal size than by virtue of being considered a Full Person whereas a puppet is a simulacrum of a person) that it borders on incomprehensible, right? and also about how i'm not a Huge fan of the idea that things are only starting to go sideways for the neighbors bc they're actually possessed by human souls, but the Idea of possession could work for me in a select few contexts? what if we're seeing a sort of role reversal of the typical possession theory stuff here - instead of humans possessing puppets, it's puppets (making an attempt at) possessing humans, however unconsciously or imperfectly. after all, if you really, truly cannot exist without that aforementioned incomprehensibly vast presence, i suppose your next best bet would be to try to subsume it into yourself somehow.

but this also comes with a cost. it's not wrong to want to exist or to have autonomy. but could you really just end another's existence to get that? would you know what to do with it afterwards? i know i'd have a hard time with it, at least.

...of course poppy could have just ceased to exist temporarily once the door was opened/her actor Presumably got out of costume, but let me have this late night ramble.

i think those are all my thoughts for now! this was a short but Meaty update. maybe i'll have some more in the morning.

#welcome home #wh speculation #poppy partridge #home #anonymous #ask

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topherwrites · 8 months ago

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FIC RECS: TOP GUN: MAVERICK - 2!

Okay, so there was shit I forgot in my year in review rec list. I posted it and a minimum of about 10 other fics immediately came to mind. so, part 2! I also didn't put many WIPs on the first one, but I think currently in progress fics should get some love too. I'll be marking them with an asterisk.

If I made a little comment about every single fic or series here, it would be inhumanely long, so I've refrained from doing so and have just put the summaries for each.

I hope that anyone who reads this list finds something that they love on it just as much as I do! Happy reading!

P.S. If I missed anyone, I'm sorry, there was a lot to sort through!

(P.S.S. reblog the fics you like, it makes writers happy.)

part 1, if you missed it.

SOME OF THESE ARE 18+, PLEASE HEED THE INDIVIDUAL WARNINGS!

JAKE SERESIN

Parking Lots and Matcha Lattes by @withahappyrefrain

In an attempt to get coffee, you meet a grade A asshole whose head you want to rip off. Meanwhile, Jake Seresin is pretty certain he just met his future wife in the parking lot of a coffee shop. AKA Jake Seresin likes mean women, pass it on.

The Hangman Special by @hangmanssunnies

On a night out with your friends at a fancy cocktail bar, you are just trying to keep your head down and ignore the girl that your ex cheated on you with. The night only seems like it's going to get worse when you are dared to kiss a stranger at the bar. However, it seems like the odds might finally be in your favor when you notice a familiar set of broad shoulders. If you can be convincing, you think you might just be able to get your brother's friend Jake "Hangman" Seresin to help you out with your little problem.

*she is both hellfire and holy water by @chemistryread

you should take it as a compliment, that I'm talking to everyone here but you.

Birds Away by @wombtotombx

You’d known Jake since you were kids, bonding over the shared experience of being military brats overseas. You were the perfect pair - he was reckless, you followed the rules; he didn’t care what others thought, you were a people-pleaser. You both became the best of the best in your field - he through sheer talent and skill, you from demonstrated grit and determination. For over two decades, everyone around you - parents, friends, even teachers - had assumed you’d both end up together, despite the fact that somehow, you never did. The Navy always had its way of keeping you two apart. Whatever possibilities there might have been, it was just never in the cards. Until you got to Fallon.

*The Backup by @ereardon

No strings attached sex never works, right? You and Jake Seresin have fallen into a bad pattern of seeking each other out for sex after dates go awry, but a year of being friends with benefits with Jake hasn’t been good for your dating life. Especially when the two of you are hiding your antics from your lifelong best friend Coyote and the rest of your tightly knit friend group. But what happens when you decide to take a step back and end the cycle with Jake to focus on your dating life? And why is it that all of the sudden Jake looks more irresistible than ever when you know he’s off limits?

Take Care of Business by @honkytonk-hangman

The last time you met Lieutenant Jake Seresin, the war was still ongoing and you’d been in a floundering engagement. Back then you’d seen the possibility for more in his eyes, and now? Well, now you could explore it.

When Jake Met Polly by @/honkytonk-hangman

Jake likes to flirt with his Air Traffic Controller or Jake Seresin has never seen When Harry Met Sally.

How It's Done (Oneshot Version) by @/honkytonk-hangman

“Like me? I didn’t even think you wanted me as a squadmate, let alone–” you stop speaking, but only because Hangman cuts his eyes sharply away from you to glare out at the ocean. “Well, I do.” He says kind of indignantly, all things considered, and eyes you almost sourly. “You can just say no if you don’t–” “–No, I do!” you quickly cut him off, because at the end of it all, you’re a little too much of a hopeless romantic to let this moment pass you by.

Twenty-Five Going on Forty-Seven by @sehnsuchts-trunken

Flirting with the guy who fixed your car turns out to lead to much, much more when you find out he’s actually not just some random guy, but your new neighbour and father’s new best friend, Jake Seresin.

BRADLEY BRADSHAW

*fever pitch by @greenorangevioletgrass

Arsenal and USMNT captain Bradley Bradshaw attends the mononymous music sensation Y/N's concert with a friendship bracelet and a dream. Little did he know that they soon embark on an epic love story fit for pop royalty...

This Love Came Back to Me by @beyondthesefourwalls

You and Bradley hadn’t ended on bad terms; really, you stopped before the two of you could even truly begin. Still, in the last seven months, you had never completely left his mind. So when you suddenly appeared in front of him at the bar, asking for a favor and pulling him into a kiss, he thought maybe it was the perfect opportunity to see if this time, things could be different. But what neither of you realized was that there’s more going on than just rekindling a lost romance, and it might not be as easy as simply just wanting it.

I Like Your Cinema by @sometimesanalice

Bradley wasn’t sure why you wanted to see the movie again, especially when neither one of you had particularly liked it the first time you’d seen it together. But when you’re tugging down his zipper, things start to make a lot more sense.

‘cause no one breaks my heart like you by @heartsofminds

“Last times always make him uneasy. He thinks that he should be used to it by now from his track record of being abandoned (willfully or “out of their control” situations alike). None of this should hurt him as deeply anymore.” or Bradley Bradshaw is terrified of commitment and he decides to stop being selfish (even though it’s hard to see).

the periphery by @youvebeenlivingfictional

You’d met Bradley a few times before the happy couple had announced their nuptials, and you’d always gotten a pretty good vibe from him. He was sweet, he was easy to talk to—and it helped that he was easy on the eyes. In fact, as soon as you’d been told that Bradley Bradshaw was going to be the Best Man, you were well on your way to having a crush on the guy.

*Hotter Than Texas by @tongue-like-a-razor

Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin’s baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley’s dream girl worst nightmare.

*flight risk by @ofstoriesandstardust

In which you and Rooster got married while at UVA for the military benefits. What started out as a mutually beneficial deal between friends years ago turns into a point of interest for Maverick, causing Rooster to have to haul you out to Fightertown to get him to shut up. While Maverick’s fussing over a marriage he didn’t know existed, Rooster’s focused on getting the ball rolling on divorce papers because really, the Navy does not need to be calling some poor girl from his college that he’s died in a horrendous accident. It’s proving to be more difficult than he expected, especially when Hangman and Phoenix take it upon themselves to encourage a friendship to become more.

How You Play the Game by @roosterforme

Bradley always loved October because of the World Series. He never expected a mix-up with the ticket he won to bring something as spectacular as you into his life. But time is fleeting, and now baseball is the last thing on his mind.

*The Intern by @/roosterforme

You barely have a minute to yourself after graduating at the top of your Ivy League class before your father insists you find an internship. Your days of lounging by the pool and partying are numbered as he has an endless parade of his colleagues visiting the house. But one of them is familiar to you in a way that warms your skin just like the San Diego sun. And it turns out, Bradley Bradshaw may just have the answers to all your problems. And those answers might be waiting for you on a yacht in the Mediterranean Sea.

there was something 'bout you by @bussyslayer333

bradley bradshaw didn’t fall in love, especially not with uptight girls in his english lit class and especially not the ones being forced into tutoring him.

*Ultraviolence by @babyonboard

You and Bradley loved each other, and Jake was just your old friend from high school who you tried to pay no mind to. At least that's how it used to be.

All Too Well by @bradleyfuckingbradshaw

You’re at dinner with your boyfriend and some of his colleagues at a restaurant he chose when you look over the menu and realize there’s no vegetarian option, but he’s too busy with his friends to realize that. Bradley isn’t.

October 3rd Promptober by @familyvideostevie

you go to a tailgate with your friend bradley.

If You Met Me First by @tip-top-cloud-surfer

Rooster confessed to Echo that he was in love with her before the mission. One minor problem: she has a boyfriend.

Home for the Holidays by @mothdruid

Bradley might have lied about having a girlfriend. His best friend, you, decide to help him out and go home for the holidays with him. As the trip unfolds, so does your and Bradley’s feelings for one another.

BOB FLOYD

*I bet this would look beautiful on film by @coridotmp3

Honey desperately needs a photographer, and Bob desperately needs a break.

Robert from Next Door by @attapullman

You've lucked out with the perfect neighbor, a kind and overly helpful WSO. He puts up Christmas lights, lends his lawn mower, and grabs your morning paper. But what happens when he's out of peppermint tea one night?

If Only the Neighbors Knew by @/attapullman

A month of stolen kisses culminates in Robert hosting the HOA meeting and getting you on his couch. The ladies of the neighborhood may make him blush, but only you can make your sweet neighbor weak in the knees.

*Golden Hour by @/ereardon

Willow, Georgia. Barely even a town, just a speck on a map that you tried to wipe off, mistaking it for a crumb. You’re the outsider: a fancy New York doctor, fresh out of a failed engagement, with zero primary care experience. You’re also the new town doctor, taking over for a recent retiree who was beloved. His son, Bob Floyd, is the other physician at the practice, and takes an immediate dislike to you. But you were looking for a fresh start, and Willow doesn’t seem all that bad if you can get past the fact that there's only one restaurant in town. It helps that you've caught the eye of Bradley Bradshaw, the town attorney, despite the fact that you vowed to take a break from dating. How long until you start to make friends in a town where social circles have been set in stone since elementary school? And what will it take to make Bob Floyd see you’re not as bad as he wants to believe you are?

Ruin the Friendship by @withahappyrefrain

The night before Bob leaves for Boot Camp, he’s learned no one has gone down on his best friend. He’s determined to fix that.

International Bob Floyd Fucks Month Masterlist

a january writing event hosted by @/attapullman

Bob from Stats by @/attapullman

College is a wild time, but absolutely nothing could prepare you for the quiet guy from Stats riding around campus as a cowboy. Or what a good kisser he is.

#jake seresin x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bob floyd x reader #jake seresin #bradley bradshaw #bob floyd #tgm fanfiction #fic rec #fic rec list #queue

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ann-atar · 28 days ago

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Finale thoughts ... Nothing to see here, just thinking about Celebrimbor's brilliance and heroism in his last moments, his prophecy, and the absolute crying rage-fueled tantrum Sauron is likely to have when he has a moment to sit and think about how and when, exactly, Galadriel got her hands on the Nine.

Because in that last scene Celebrimbor wasn't just playing their game of "whose will is mightier," he was stalling to buy time for Galadriel. (Which he said he would do and somehow delivered on. Honestly what a stellar badass.)

He wasn't thinking only of Sauron during his last moments, his thoughts were on Galadriel and the safety of his people too; Celebrimbor's last words were meant for Sauron, yes, but those words also goaded Sauron into killing him and bought a few extra seconds for Galadriel.

So during their last (precioussss) moments together, Celebrimbor was supposed to be focused on Sauron alone, but he wasn't; instead Celebrimbor deceived him, and in Sauron's mind that is not acceptable.

When he puts that together and really sits down to digest that timeline he's going to be even more difficult to be around. I pity the Uruk even more now.

The way I see it, Sauron wanted three things during those last few episodes: Celebrimbor's compliance (following the pattern, the abuser trying to win over the abused again), the Nine, and the Uruk army. He got two out of three, but at a huge cost that he's hardly aware of yet, even though Celebrimbor's last words are probably forming shadows and doubts in what passes for his mind.

Then there was the bonus fourth thing that he wasn't aware he wanted until close to the end: Galadriel's ring, Nenya. But that slipped through his fingers literally, in much the same way Celebrimbor's soul slipped from his grasp metaphorically. (I really like that symmetry too, even if it was absurdly painful to watch.)

And Galadriel was fantastic because she played him too! I didn't see that coming, thought she was just going to throw herself backwards off the cliff, but instead she taunted the bastard and, in a move that mirrored Celebrimbor's goading of Sauron, took a fall that could have killed her rather than cede a millimeter of her will to the Enemy.

So Sauron has his army, and he has the Nine, but he's not quite winning. Not at all.

And that look at Fëanor's hammer? Well. I just responded to another post about this where we were talking about how a theme this season is that Celebrimbor is (the original) preciousss to Sauron (for all the wrong reasons) but I do hope that future seasons give us a call back to the hammer, and to Celebrimbor's dying words as Sauron's inspiration for the forging of the One.

Because I think Sauron is going to be compelled by equal parts fear and grief to forge that ring, and I hope they show that the forging of it is not quite a consensual act.

I really love this version of Sauron so far, and I want to see him suffer through that forging, I want to see him try and fail to break out of the pattern of maladaptive attachment he fell into with Melkor, and to have many flashbacks and references to our beloved Tyelpë throughout that process.

#celebrimbor #sauron #annatar #galadriel #rings of power #rings of power spoilers #silvergifting #tolkien-meta

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theredpharaoah · 16 days ago

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Nah cuz now I’m thinking Wooly is like her handler or something. He always tryna keep her “on track” and doing a regular children’s show. The broken tape showing him going around her in a circle, and then the big wooly eating everything definitely count against him too. And then he wanted to get rid of all of her stuff. I could’ve sworn the robot was in the attic in the first game so those are probably Rebecca’s real toys. It’s like he wants her to forget about her old life and embrace her identity as Amanda.

At first I thought Wooly was one of the children they kidnapped, as we don’t know what happened to them. But now I think he something else. It’d be crazy if every object in the show that has eyes is one of the children that have disappeared.

So the medieval cult survives in the present day as Hameln. The show Sam started with Rebecca turned out to be a hit, and so they wanted it to attract more children to kidnap or reach more children? Hamelin is the name of the town the Pied Piper went to. I wonder what they want children for. And so I think when Sam vanished is when the company kidnapped him and confined him to that room. And they made Rebecca(Amanda) sign a contract which somehow allowed for that demon to attach itself to her. But the demon seems to listen to her so I wonder what its deal is.

So we know Kate was the librarian who promoted the show a lot in the first game. She became close to Joanne, whose lil brother was one of the children who disappeared. I think Joanne is the masked woman that’s with us. Kate, Caroline, Peter, and David noticed the demonic names and messaging and got together to investigate more. That happened over a period of like 15 years. Something happened to David and Kate knew she was gonna die too. I don’t think they say if Caroline or Peter died. I wonder if one of them hiding in that hatch. I don’t think the company got a facility under the library cuz it was Kate’s office that led there.

Belial, Mara, and Iblis are just different names for the devil - or its analogues in different cultures: Belial is Hebrew and later Christian, Mara is Hindu but was really developed in Buddhism, and Iblis is just the Devil in Islam. They mentioned over 40 mentions of these types of names and sigils. I’m assuming they’re partly basing this off of the medieval grimoire tradition and early 20th century demonology. Particularly Aleister’s Crowley Lesser Key which lists 72 demons and their sigils attributed to the King Solomon from the Bible. I’m really curious to see how they’re gonna tie all of that together. (This is the cliff notes version of all this).

We have at least one alleged demonic contract in the archaeological record. It was used in the trial of Urbain Grandier in the 1500s. It’s considered to have been fake and created as evidence to get him killed. I don’t remember the exact case but I think it was like a bunch of horny nuns blamed him for their horniness or something.

#amanda the adventurer #Amanda the adventurer 2 #horror games

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ganondoodle · 3 months ago

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(totk rant)

something i dont know if i have ranted about specifically is .... how i hate how little defined the sonau (zonai) magic is

like i get it, its magic, but it feels like it can do anything when the idiot plot demands and cant when it doesnt for no good reason, just like the enigma stones (secret stones)

(its not that each little thing is a problem, i dont need everything single thing explained, but that the whole mess of sonau magic, enigma stone magic and elemental magic feels like .. a mess, and a stupid mess at that! you dont know what is what and what soemthing can and cant do and that leads to a bad kind of confusion, one that makes it feel like there are no rules except when the plot demands it)

(also i will forever refuse to call it sonau 'tech', bc its not, its some vaguely stone textured pieces that do a thing when hit or pieces floating around some vague magic bs, theres no cogs, not maschinery, nothing that makes you feel its got an internal mechanism like the shiekah tech had-- worst part being they had planned sonau bs to be more magic than 'tech' but then, as i previously ranted about, decided to make it 'so players can immedaitely know what it does just by looking at it' and then decided they still needed to explain to you what the obvious fan thing does 5 times over when you already learned it on the literal tutorial ALSO ITS A FAN- WHAT IS THERE TO TEACH ME ABOUT IT- ... wrong post .. anyway)

sonau magic, apparently, can, replace an entire living persons arm that was 'beyond repair', when the person giving their arm IS ALREADY A GHOST (or dead for that matter, yes you can argue its the part of his arm that was left over at that point but .... that also leaves the question how the hell he could suddendly, conventiently, move that arm part independendly to catch link, when it flopped over limply a second ago .. and was also able to .. see? how would he catch him otherwise .. but only after it flopped over .. for no apparent reason too, its not like zelda picked the stone right off it or soemthing-- ALSO why does it not look like it then, like its long nailed creepy thing, but instead his perfectly alived arm argh)-

teleport people to places that have moved kilometers away from where it originally was (as in, rauru teleporting link via dismembered arm part train to the garden of time that was not in the sky last he remembered) but ..only like that?? i guess?? since no one else ever teleports via sonau magic, its always shiekah stuff that teleports except for this one instance (and it cant be it just went back to raurus ghost bc .. he acts like he just woke up as a ghost too so he couldnt have been ghost chilling in the garden of time either ....... why wasnt his ghostly version attached to his slightly less ghostly arm part anyway .....)

lift entire pieces of land into the sky i guess ?? (off screen ... somehow .... for no reason ............ after all the sonau that were there were dead (who did that?? the constructs??????????) and no scar left on the surface either)

make shield, once rauru, otherwise minerubot (we dont know if either did that in the og fight with ganondorf since ... we dont get to see ANYTHING of that 'fight' i am BITING this game in a non sexy way)

let you swim upwards and through ANY amount of earth (only link ever does it)

glue literally anything to anything (unless you shake it too hard) and have that glue actully make the glued together pieces work together as if there was a mechanism connecting it (only link ever does it like that, other NPCs are shown to be able to get pieces to work together without it ... and with no explanation either how THAT works, sicne there is no mechanism in anything??) (fuse is just the same glue glued into an extra ability slot, its not different in any means)

can ALSO glue stuff to the literal MASTERSWORD?? which, if i can be honest, i really dont like, idk, the mastersword itself being fused to some random other material and getting those weird green symbols on it while even changing its form temporarily when you pull it out?? idk, that feels like desecrating an holy object to me (and yet again .. sonau stuff in everything and everywhere ..)

reverse time on objects and generally copy other peoples abilities?? its not the stones since link doesnt have one, its like .. built into rauru bracelet even, thats kinda weird, what do you mean his bracelet is perfectly made for housing that exact number of peoples abilities- or ghost copies for that matter O.o

grab someones heart and seal it in a condition between life and death for THOUSANDS of years while dissolving its wielder ??? i would consider it being influenced by rauru light powers (which is still stupid to give to him of all people) having sealing capabilities towards "evil", but when he does it its really only typically sonau magic stuff, green glow, the symbols, the spiral (... why IS it a spiral, did he turn himself into a less stupid version of the shrines? lol)

(now theres things that overlap with the engima stones, but since its all such a mess i cant tell what part is strictly sonau magic bs and what is magic pebble bs and what is just kinda ... both)

stripping people of their clothes and teleporting to weird dream like dimension tm (end of game)

bringing back ghosts (rauru did the oh no im ghost gone now too which is why i cant tell you anything you should know link looooooool- whoops he back) sonia was never even shown as a ghost before (why? .. no seriously, why? you cant me she didnt have any regrets when she died? why does everyone get a ghost like its nothing but not sonia .. until that point .. which is probably just so she can hold hands with rauru and fuck off again, we wouldnt want her around when rauru isnt, the most importnatest coolestest guy to ever kingexist )

reverse irreversible transformations via stone (you can, uwu its time powersss!! me all you want it sucks in every aspect and i will not be argued with)

restore someone 'beyond repair' arm even when it was not fully purified as it was implied to be necessary at the start- and also just .. take away the arm that got transplanted? (games allergic to consequences)

(more stone than sonau but .. i feel like those two are inherently linked anyway)

"enhance" peoples already existing magic abilities- which .. isnt really true? like that sounds like a lie bc except for giant rauru laser he uses only once, no one seems to actually use it like that, speaking of which

giant laserbeams capable of taking out an entire family of moldugas

my point being, like i talked about before, is that all of the other people with stones, we either dont get to see what they can do bc they just get it and are only shown standing around doing nothing giving no example of its effect (old sages) or the new sages creating copies of themselves that they give to you, which i would argue, is not enhancing their abilties, bc their ability is very element specific, not the shiekahs copy game, yes their ghost houses their ability but .. thats not 'enhancing' that just a double- plus, and this drives me mad, THEIR GHOSTS GO AWAY WHEN THE REAL ONE IS AROUND, which defeats even the idea of it being stronger just bc there two of each now, so they get nothing and you get a ghost copy if they arent around themselves which is not something i would call "enhancing" (its so gamey .... it only exists like that so you get shitty companions with those abilities in the game and when they are around dont get double the already shitty way of activating them.. and i hate it, i hate how gamey it is, you can make things work without it feeling THIS gamey)

ooooor, are just a set piece, like sonia, who doesnt use her stone for anything, bc she cant have been too weak on her own to time reverse a single cup of tea now can she (i wouldnt put it past them)

the only other time it seems to work as it was said is with ganondorf, bc he had miasma (gloom ... ) powers before and just kinda .. miasmad himself up more

time travel! somehow!! even though the traveling person has not shown any time powers before that point, has no idea what the stone is or how to use it, and no idea where to go, nor to think of going there even in panic (which is something i would have accepted, like .. idk atreus travel via the marbles in god of war, how he thinks of home and travels to his old home instead of where he meant to go, thats a neat twist!) (also .. sonia is the one whos lived all her life with time powers and, supposedly, acts like a mentor to zelda (if you can count that one scene where she says some vague -cheer up- stuff) .. what if sonia could time travel, bc she actually knew how to use it, and went into the future to warn them or lead them into the right direction .. already thinking of better things again ..)

stones can also turn people into eternal, immortal (lie, you can kill dragondorf) dragons, permanently (also a lie, zelda is reversed, and 'she was just sleeping uwu', stone she ate is ALSO back) (dragons being something i thought of being ethereal, untouchable and timeless sacred beings you shouldnt try to understand or control- but no, sonaus stupid stones can just turn people into them and its only used for one cool set piece and a fake emotional hook, also a shitty way to bring zelda back into the future all fine and dandy bc her learning to control her sudden new time powers well enough to travel back on her own would have been too much agency for our little maiden prize- the whole dragon thing also feel like desecrating dragons to me)

(probably more im forgetting here lol)

in the end, what my problem is that its TOO much and TOO messy, theres no lines and all the rules told to you are proven wrong with no input from you or even hint at it being possible and no logical lines to it

like sure, in botw the shiekah tech and the encient energy is also rather vague, but you get a sense of what it is, its magic that powers their tech! and it doesnt go beyond that (unlike the sonau stuff which is .. both made AND powered by sonanium?? which feels a little ... stupid) and the people sometiems had some elemental magic, like urbosa and her lightning etc in totk its just all over the place, all the things work together in vague ways and seem like they can both do everything and nothing, which leaves you with an unsatisfying confusion and possible frustration (if you are me, who cares too much) instead of a intrigued curiousity (like i had with the ancient energy from botw) that can still feel like you not knowing the answer too doesnt distract from anything, its feels plausible on its own-

... hey, been some time since i got to rant in long form! take everything with a few more grains of salt than usually, i still have covid :/

#ganondoodles talks #zelda #ganondoodles rants #totk critical #too tired for long tags #maybe i sound nit picky alot but you know #i feel like i deserve to hate on soemthing as much as i want for once #usually i only have a neutral disinterest or slight dislike #this is the one game i hate in the franchise i love #i can be a little annoying .... as a treat #long post #woops

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