#i used it twice and sort of got attached to it

[moon-ttokki-x]

Your fic about safe is so amazing I'm inlove with it?? Could you do a similar one but with daddy issues like you're dating Han or Chris (idm which you pick) and you sometimes worry he'll leave you + Ur own issues, tw? Bipolar and depression? Whatever makes you comfortable to do at least

aha thank you so much ! i just titled this one 'depressed reader' but all of the main details are in the descriptions below >< also i couldn't decide between writing chan or han so i just kind of wrote both lol . . . hopefully this one brings you some comfort too, anon <3

hold me - bang chan x depressed!reader

pairing: bang chan x depressed!reader

summary: watching chan with one of his members makes everything you've felt lately rise to the surface.

genre: fluff, idol! au, comfort at the end, depression, hinting to bipolar disorder, heavy descriptions of relationship issues (i made it sort of vague so it applies to a lot of scenarios), descriptions of ed, deprecating and negative thoughts, breakdowns, attachment issues, chan is the sweetest most understanding person in the whole world, jisung is mentioned multiple times in this fic

a/n: sending love to all my readers ! you are all soso appreciated <3. divider from @ianrkives

You hesitantly open the door to the studio after knocking twice. When there's no reply, you quickly step inside and blink. The room is pretty much dark, the only source of light coming from a dim standing lamp in the corner.

Chan is seated at his desk, hunched over the soundboard, with a pair of headphones clasping either side of his head. You can barely see him in the dark, only his face, hands, and the column of his throat visible out of the baggy black clothes he always likes to wear.

He doesn't look up as you enter and then quietly shut the door, too focused on the wavy, lilting lines and sequences of the song production software in front of him. You sigh softly and walk up to him, coming from the side so you don't startle him. Placing your bag down on the small table before the sofa, you place a couple of hesitant fingers on the arm of his chair.

"Channie?" You say quietly.

He's still squinting at the screen, somehow so focused he doesn't even see you right next to him. Or maybe it's the light from the screen; when you stare at a device for so long in the dark, it gets difficult to see anything else.

But he suddenly seems to sense your movement, and he must have realised it was you, because he wraps an arm around your waist and gently pulls you closer.

"Hi, baby," he murmurs, not taking his eyes off the screen. His gaze is focused and almost intense as he scrutinizes every soundbar and beat of the music. You bite your lip.

You begin to worry a little then; have you disturbed him from his work? Maybe you shouldn't have come, or at least sent him a text telling him you were coming to the company studio. Maybe he would be more comfortable if you just left him alone.

Before your thoughts can descend on your head like a static black cloud, Chan finally slips off his headphones, leaning back in his chair with a heavy exhale. His arm is still around your waist and so he tugs you with him a little bit, eyes roaming over your face as he stretches.

"Sorry," he says, sighing contentedly as his back pops a little. "Got so caught up, didn't realise I'd be here so late."

"It's okay," you say quietly. "I figured."

Chan catches the hint of sadness creeping into your tone and he pulls you onto his lap, coiling strong arms around your torso. His unruly, ruffled curls tickle the naps of your neck and you squirm, letting out an involuntary giggle. Though the sound is happy, it immediately fills you with a creeping feeling of disgust, and you reproachfully close your mouth.

Chan doesn't seem to notice; he seems rather content to just keep you on his lap. He's absentmindedly singing something, and you stand up off of his lap suddenly, brushing yourself off. For some unknown reason, you begin to feel a bit embarrassed, like you used to feel around Chan when you didn't know him too well.

The man in question sits up a little straighter in his chair, smiling at you. "How was your day, baby?"

"Good," you say a little curtly. You're not sure where the tone is coming from, and you shove the feeling down before you can say something in a way you'd regret.

Chan hums thoughtfully and pokes you lightly in the stomach. "Just good, hmm? Usually I'd get a lot more than that... are you okay?"

"Yes," you say quietly, even though you feel anything but. You're grateful for the darkness then, because it means Chan can't see the tears beginning to prickly hotly at the corners of your eyes. You keep your voice strong and fight the urge to sniffle so as not to alert him. "Just had a long day. You?"

Saying those sentences almost makes you break.

Chan can never know what it's like; how it feels to be brushed off and ignored and attacked by someone who is supposed to love you. To feel like you don't really matter, or that your thoughts and ideas and dreams are just that; useless, empty words inside your head. And to be constantly reminded of how little your worth is, to the point where you're not sure what love is, or what it looks like.

Chan will never understand; he had a completely normal childhood, with a completely normal family and upbringing, and he's normal. Normal in the way that he has people to turn to, people who love and support him, and he's normal in the way that he doesn't scrutinize his own actions every single second of every single day.

And he will never know what it's like to be struggling with something to the point where it all just builds up inside your head like a messy pile of bricks. Where it all weighs down heavy on your mood and sends clouds of dust into the air, distorting and warping your emotions.

So far you've been able to control your mood swings around him; you'd succeeded in making Chan think that you're a person who likes to sleep a lot. In reality you just lie down and keep your eyes and mouth shut so you don't end up acting hypomanic or have outbursts at him. At least it's working; you would much rather keep it all inside than bare the most vulnerable parts of yourself to someone who might decide to turn away and leave you because of it.

You've learnt that keeping those thoughts and emotions inside is better, because then at least people stay. For some time, anyway. Lately you've been feeling like you're biding your time, waiting until the day where Chan finds out everything and decides to do what's best for himself.

When he decides to leave you.

"...And then Han decided he was going to try and do his makeup himself all of a sudden, and of course it was a whole mess. I had to clean sparkly highlighter out of his mouth. I mean, how does that even happen?"

You blink. Chan has been talking this whole time while you've been zoned out of your mind, pitifully burying yourself in your struggles. You climb out of the pit but for a moment and nod along, though he still can't see you because of the dark. You hope that he's just been talking about Han the whole time and not anything else, because if you missed something, Chan will definitely know something's wrong. You inwardly curse yourself for making a habit out of replying to every event and topic that comes out of Chan's mouth.

"Does he not know you guys have perfectly good stylists for that?" You murmur, carding a hand through his fluffy hair.

He sighs exasperatedly, rolling his eyes. "Apparently not."

You feel the slightest hint of mirth warming your heart as you notice the tips of Chan's rough, calloused fingers covered in the faintest hint of sparkles. But it quickly disappears, replaced by a cold, dead numbness that seems to encapsulate your whole being. Like icy water.

"Anyways," Chan stretches again, standing up. "How come you're here and not at home?"

Slightly taken aback at the blunt statement, you stutter a little. Chan's eyes go wide and he shakes his hands frantically in front of himself. "N-not like that! I'm glad you're here, it's just that it's really late and I thought you would be asleep by now..."

You blink at him, and then at the clock. He has a point; the white LEDs on the display read 1:43 am. Normally you'd be passed out in bed at this time.

"Couldn't sleep," you say. "I missed you."

And it's true. You did miss him. But suddenly you're looking straight through Chan to someone else and saying that last sentence to him instead. You clench your fists.

"Aww," Chan whines cutely, pulling you into a hug. "My baby. I missed you too. This new song track is killing me."

You pull back from the hug and kiss him on the cheek, partly because kissing Chan makes him go all red, and if you let him hug you any longer, you'll probably break down.

Chan does go red and you poke him lightly in the side, teasing gently. He chuckles and jerks away as you walk to the low table and pick up a bag. "I brought food."

"Oh, you're the best," Chan dives for the bag and eagerly digs through, clumsily kissing your cheek as he pulls the lid off one of the takeout containers. He sits down on the couch before pulling out a pair of chopsticks from the bag and heaping a mouthful of the food. He groans loudly. "This is so good."

"Tastes better after work, doesn't it?" You sit down next to him and lean back, looking at the ceiling. You cross your arms over your stomach to keep it quiet.

Chan nods eagerly and holds out his chopsticks. "Say ahh, Y/n."

You shake your head ruefully but Chan insists, moving closer. Relenting, you open your mouth and feel the warmth of the food against your tongue. It tastes so good, and for a second, you think about asking for more, but you realise that Chan needs it more. After all, he's been working all night.

Besides, if you ask for more of his food, he might think you're being greedy and look at you that certain way that someone else does.

In disgust.

You know in your heart that Chan would never do these sorts of things, but the doubt nags consistently at your consciousness, tugging your mood one way and then your emotions the next. The constant change between feelings is almost giving you whiplash and you exhale, closing your eyes and leaning back into the couch.

"Baby?"

"Mm," you say without opening your eyes.

"Is everything okay?" You hear him setting down his chopsticks, feel the tiny thud through the table as he sets the already-empty container down gently. Your heart drops to your stomach.

Keep it together. He doesn't know anything.

You sigh and sit up, your heartstrings twinging. "Just a lot to think about lately. Why?"

Chan nods, leaning back into the couch next to you. "It's just that you've been really quiet lately. I was wondering if something was going on..."

He ends his reply on a sort of question, like he's expecting you to open up to him about everything at once. You almost laugh out loud at the absurdity of it. How could he possibly expect you to do something like that? And so easily too...

You inwardly scoff. Nice try. You're not getting anything out of me, Chan. Better you don't know anyway. I know you'll change your mind about me.

But your heart takes control of your mouth, and maybe it's the constant sense of longing you seem to have around Chan, but you want to open up to him. Tell him everything, about your terrible past and terrible experiences, and all you are because of it. And a sudden, lingering sense of hope makes you believe that even after you tell him all of it, he'll stay.

Even if it's just for a moment.

"I, um.. I just had an argument with someone," you say vaguely. And it's not entirely the truth. But it's not exactly a lie either. The words shouted at you earlier flash through your mind, white and hot and painful. Like a fresh cut, a harsh, swift slice too deep and sudden to process. Where, for a moment, there's nothing, until the blood starts filling the white gap and then spilling over, like a gruesome parody of tears.

Chan turns to face you on the couch. "Argument? About what?"

You shift a little uncomfortably. Now you have to tell him. "About- just whatever."

"It's not whatever, Y/n," he says firmly. "Not if it's making you this upset."

And maybe it's the sudden realisation that Chan is so normal, with his normal family and mind and life that you feel a raging pang of jealousy fill you up from your toes to your head. You huff and turn away.

"It's nothing," you grit your teeth, fighting not to spit venom.

Stop it, Y/n. It's not his fault.

Chan blinks in surprise at your slightly harsh response but doesn't push you any further. You don't look at him, but you hear him sigh and get up to toss the empty takeout container in the trash. Your heart sinks and you wait for him to turn around and chide you for being so rude and stubborn. After all, he was just trying to help.

But he doesn't. He sits back down on the couch, and looks up at the ceiling, so that you two are lying next to each other in the exact same position. He doesn't talk, either.

You both sit in deafening silence.

You're grateful when the door opens with a haphazard bang and Han walks in, clad in an oversized grey hoodie and sweats. He's clutching a notebook in his hands, glasses slipping off the bridge of his nose. You know the story Chan told earlier was true because you can see smears of sparkly highlighter high on his cheekbones. He doesn't seem to be aware of the time, nor the dark state of the room, or the fact that you're so tense your shoulders feel like concrete.

You're grateful for the interruption until he walks over to Chan and promptly sits in his lap. Han murmurs a few lyrics to him, who seems unfazed by the sudden action, and questions about what he thinks could be changed with the song words. Chan replies quietly and his gaze flicks to you in the dimness of the room, but you just shrug, saying you don't mind.

But sitting there, watching Han sit so quietly and comfortably in Chan's lap makes your heart pang for some reason. He wasn't afraid, didn't ask if it was okay, just sat right down and made himself comfortable. Because you know for a fact Chan lets him do this.

And maybe it's the way Chan strokes an absentminded finger down Han's shoulder, or the way he speaks so softly, or the way it's so reminiscent of someone taking care of their child, but you find your eyes brimming with hot tears by the time Han gets up and leaves.

Chan turns to you, about to say something about the lyrics of the new track, but he stops short. A look of worry comes over his expression.

He scoots closer, placing a warm hand on your arm. "Baby? Are you okay?"

All you can do is shake your head, your eyes scrunching up as you fall into his arms. Chan holds you close, one hand cradling your head against his chest like you're the most precious thing in the whole world. Little do you know, to him, you are.

You sob. The reality of everything comes crashes down on you and all you can do is wail and hiccup into Chan's warm, solid chest. You expect him to push you away by the time the tears have soaked through his shirt, but he doesn't. He holds you close and rocks you gently, shushing you and cooing as he wipes hot, sticky streaks off your cheekbones.

You can't help but cry harder. Your eyes almost sting from how hard you've scrunched them up, and your hands ball in the back of Chan's hoodie like it's a lifeline. And it is. You feel that if you let go, you might fall and never return.

"I'm here," you hear Chan whispering through the mess. "I'm here."

Again and again he says it, and every time he does, your tears flow a little slower, and he keeps saying it until your breakdown has reduced itself to a fit of hiccups and messy sniffles. Still he doesn't push you away, or snap at you to get over it, or that your tears mean nothing. He just sits and holds you.

When you finally look up, Chan is smiling gently, reassuringly, though a little sadly. He sees the look in your eyes and knows you don't want to talk about it, so he sits and rocks you softly on his lap. You squeeze your eyes shut and heave in a rocky breath.

Please just keep holding me, you beg him silently. Just for a while.

And he does. And he doesn't let go, not even when you whimper into his shoulder and soak the juncture of his neck with your misery. He kisses the salty wetness away and strokes the pads of his fingers across your face, where the skin is red and sticky.

"I love you," he whispers.

"I'm sorry," you cry. "I can't get it all out of my head, and- it's too much, and I can't-"

"Shh, baby. I've got you, okay? Just breathe for me."

You heave in a few breaths and continue clinging to him. He feels so warm and safe. All you want is to be surrounded by him, to breathe him in, have him tell you that he loves you.

He must have read your mind, because he leans close to your ear and whispers firmly.

"I'm not leaving you, yeah? I'm gonna stay right here, hold you til you're better. You mean the world to me, hmm? Do you know that?"

You shake your head sadly.

"Now you do. I'm not going anywhere," he says with such conviction that you almost begin to believe it. He wraps his arms closer around you and kisses your forehead, whispering fiercely.

"I promise."

a/n: masterlist

[lured-into-wonderland]

Does any Nun have a pet ? What would she likes to have, if not ?

Does a horse count as a pet? If yes, then Nunnally does own a silver mare named Mist. The horse is really fast, and riding on it gives Nunnally the odd feeling of freedom. And independence. She likes idea of running away from her life that is often overwhelming for her. Even if she wouldn't openly admit that; not even to herself. Mist is also a substitute of a friend for Nunnally; "someone" with whom her secrets are secure. However, she doesn’t see her mare too often (perhaps apart from the royal verse) as the mare is kept in the country manor, where she cannot visit frequently.

Nunnally doesn’t have any other pets. She didn't either when she was younger. She would love to have a cat (but was never allowed to), she doesn’t like birds kept in cages (as they remind her of being trapped with no escape; in fact she can see herself in them), and is afraid of dogs (but all the dogs she knew were either guarding dogs or hunting dogs). She’d like to have more contacts with farm animals, like cows or sheep, but she was never allowed to. It was never deemed appropriate for a girl of her status.

@starzfield

[carlsangel]

CARE TO KNOCK?

carl grimes x fem!reader

(you and carl get caught. twice.)

tags: SMUT!! oral sex, f!receiving, getting caught! fun!

masterlist here!

You tried your hardest to be discreet about how…active you and Carl were. It wasn’t the easiest considering Carl was the leaders’ son and it seemed like eyes were always on him, whether it was his dad’s or Michonne’s. Sometimes people in the community.

You’d try to sneak off and do what you could but with your guys’ luck, you almost always got interrupted. One time something possessed the both of you to try it in the church house when there was a community event. That went as well as you’d imagine.

“Holy mother of-” Gabriel had walked in on the both of you on one of the pews. God was it embarrassing. (see what i did there) The scene he’d walked in on consisted of you without a shirt and Carl’s hand practically groping your tits over your bra. Also you were attached at the mouth so you could see why he’d be terrified.

Obviously you scrambled to put your clothes on while Carl tried to explain for the both of you, begging to not tell Rick or Michonne. “Look man, we’re really sorry we just- please don’t tell my dad. I’m begging you he can’t know about this.” He explains worriedly. Gabriel stood there still shocked. You had to make it up to him somehow, considering you were doing an unholy act in a holy place but, there wasn’t really any real repercussions because Carl had gotten him to keep it a secret. Something about making it up to him for something Gabriel had done when they first arrived at Alexandria.

Anyway, a large reason you didn’t want Rick to know, was because you two shared a room. You were happy to almost always get away with things at night (you tried not to be too loud) and not have anyone know. It was nice. Until one particular day.

Rick and Michonne go out on Wednesday mornings to scavenge, so you two took advantage of the time you had..and got to it. It wasn’t really anything crazy, your morning sex was usually romantic and sweet. It’s not like you were going at it like animals.

One week, they’d left a bit earlier so in your mind, you were able to get some extra time.

“Oh fuck-” You spoke breathlessly, he was under the blanket eating you out. Something about the way he was ruthlessly lapping at your clit made you realize that today’s morning sex wouldn’t be so romantic. He began to move upwards and start kissing up your body hungrily. He started to place harsh kisses all around your neck, leaving small bruises around as well. “You’re so perfect.” He mumbled against your neck.

The next thing you know, he’s sitting up with your legs between his knees. He flips you over on your stomach and lifts your hips up so you’re arched for him how he wants. You giggle at his sudden movements and you’re surprised by him literally shoving himself inside of you.

“Oh-” You moan loudly, surprising yourself and immediately slapping your hand over your mouth. He began thrusting himself in and out of you with no plan on stopping. That was until the door beside your guys’ bed suddenly opened. It opened just enough so Rick could see you and your back, Carl’s arms and his face.

Your eyes go wide and once he realizes what was happening, Rick quickly shuts the door, catching Carl’s attention which causes him to stop. “What the hell was that?” He asked, his hands still resting at your hips. “Your fucking dad.” You pull away from him and Carl sits there sort of astonished. “W-wait he saw?” He covers himself with the blanket and you move to find your underwear and shorts.

“Not everything, just me I hope. He didn’t open the door open too much.” You pull up your underwear and scramble around for your shorts which Carl pulled from under the blanket he was using to cover himself. “What’s scary is that you didn’t stop.”

You throw him his own clothes which were on the floor and he feels somewhat upset he didn’t realize the door had opened. He was too busy fucking you. “Well it’s kinda hard to focus on stopping when I’m in the middle of something.” He says defensively, pulling up his boxers and sweatpants. You plop on the bed, dropping your head to your hands while he found a shirt to wear. After seeing how worried you were, he walked over and kissed the top of your head.

“Don’t stress out okay? It’ll be fine, worst comes to worst he’ll take the room away but we’ll work our way around it.” He reassured. Maybe he’s right. This didn’t have to be such a big deal. If Carl didn’t make it one, you wouldn’t either.

“Care to knock? What the hell?” You both were now in the kitchen, Carl was scolding Rick who was standing with Michonne and Maggie at the island. You were standing behind him quietly. “Well I thought we were way past knockin. Plus we got home early.” Rick sort of laughs, seeming unfazed. Your eyebrows furrow at this and he notices. “What, you thought we didn’t know about what goes on in there at night?”

You look to Michonne and Maggie who were both sort of smiling at you. “What?” You asked peeved. “I mean…you’re not exactly the quietest.” Michonne reasons. Your face is flushed and you’re super embarrassed, it doesn’t help that when you turn you realize both Glenn and Daryl had been in the room as well, you just hadn’t noticed. Glenn sort of giggles at you, Daryl just…is Daryl. “Oh shit.” You mutter to yourself, hiding your face in your hands and Carl just stands there annoyed as hell.

“They’re not wrong though you are quite loud.” He says quietly, slightly teasing you over a conversation you’d had many times before, he always made fun of you for being so vocal, even though he loved it. You look up from your hands just to give him a pissed off glare. You give him a shove to the shoulder and make your way back upstairs.

“Fuck off.”

a/n: sorry guys for this HAHAHA idk how smutty anon wanted this request but they got smut..sorry pookie :| ANYWAY i hope you all enjoyed, currently deciding on closing my requests cause im gettin a shit ton but we’ll figure that out later!!! love you bye!!!

tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @evilnight07 @ilikestrawberriesandwomen

[randomshyperson]

Wanda holding hands 13 bc Ur smut is the best :D

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

prompt: linking hands together during sex | warnings: (+18) smut.

“Are you sure this is safe?”

Wanda lets out a giggle at your nervousness, sitting on your thighs, her hands resting on your stomach, she stares at you, her head slightly tilted.

"Are you questioning my magical abilities?" she counters your question with another one, receiving an offended snort in return.

"Of course not!" You mutter. You were looking at her before, but ended up looking down, where the toy conjured by the witch attached to your waist vibrates softly as if it were as desperate to feel her as you were half an hour ago when you both stumbled inside the rented room at the Harkness Mansion, where Wanda has been learning all sorts of magic for the past few months. Clearly, she has learned other interesting things, outside of the mandatory curriculum.

Your hands caress her thighs, but Wanda still notices the tension in your shoulders. She softens her gaze in your direction.

"It feels good, doesn't it? No need to worry." She rations, pleased to see you bite your lip as she tentatively caresses the plastic member. When you gasp at the stimulation, she feels a twinge of pride at her successful spell, too. "You can trust me."

"I trust you, darling." You assure her, a little out of breath and sweaty. It's round two already, and Wanda just proved her point by groping your new magical member, a squeeze that almost makes you lose your train of thought. "It's me I don't trust. What are we going to do about my strength? Are you sure-"

"That's exactly why I'm on top, silly." She cuts you off, adjusting herself on your lap in a way that brings her heat right where you want her. Your grip on her thighs tightens just enough to bruise. It's her time to bite her lip. With a deep breath, she stares at your eyes. "You just need to relax, and let me take charge. I bet you'll love it."

It's your turn to look at her adoringly. "Of course I will, it's you." You comment romantically, earning a shy smile from her. But then, there's a shift in her gaze. Wanda is still looking in your eyes as she adjusts the toy into her own entrance, teasing gently before slowly sinking down. She's able to feel every inch, filling her up to the bottom.

Your hands leave her thighs to grip the sheets, and she smiles breathlessly at your visible difficulty in keeping still, your jaw tensing as your stomach muscles tighten.

"See? I told you I'd like it." She teases, still getting used to the sensation of being full. She's pleased to know she got the size right, even though she can't help but imagine trying a bigger one in the future. "I'm going to start moving now, okay baby?"

But her body was betraying her. She was still quite sensitive, coming twice before for your fingers and tongue, she didn't imagine she'd be so affected so quickly when she switched to the toy. But the sensation was truly overwhelming. It was really different to feel you filling her like that, and in the attempt to grind against your lap, her body protested, as ready for climax as she had been when she started.

You came to her rescue immediately. Sitting, one of your hands brushed her hair away from her face, to get a better look at her before kissing her. Your other hand went down, wrapping around her waist and taking control of her movements. Wanda rewarded you with an affected moan against your lips, her thighs trembling on either side of your body as you forced her hips to move against yours. She didn't want to come so fast, but she couldn't help it. Being held like this, she felt so safe and loved that the knot in her lower belly exploded almost at the same moment you whispered "I got you, lovely". 

In the ecstasy of her own climax, she didn't notice your determination to hold back, unable to surrender without worries. It was only when she calmed down, breathless and still trying to get back into orbit, that she realized. Hugging you by the neck, she kissed your skin before speaking again. "I told you to trust me."

You sigh, caressing her back with open palms. "I do, but I don't want to hurt you." You murmur. Despite being bigger than Wanda, you suddenly seem very small. "Every muscle is amplified by the serum, Wands, you know that. I'm afraid I might-"

She cuts you off with a determined kiss. Wet and rough, it makes you gasp and grab her cheeks, pulling away for air. Wanda arches her back, teasing and baiting you, the image of her naked figure making you gasp. You stare at where your bodies connect, but don't move.

She grinds, and you groan. "Jesus, Wanda."

"You won't hurt me, I promise." She assures you, equally affected, having trouble keeping her eyes on you, her brow furrowed due to the roughness of her own hips' movements. Doing this, you kept hitting a sensitive spot inside her, and it was a hard feeling to ignore in order to speak. "It's part of the magic. Can you, for all that is holy, trust what I'm saying?"

You don't contradict, mainly because you're unable to hold back when Wanda is riding you so eagerly. You tense up then, panicking once you feel your climax reaching you, but to no avail, it's your attempt at holding it. An animalistic moan rips its way through your throat, and you grab Wanda's waist, holding her in place as you empty yourself inside her. She whines affectly, grabbing your shoulders as she feels the hot shot inside her. 

For a second, not only the toy soften but your body too, going heavy on her. She holds both of you to the bed with her thighs around your waist, a hand caressing your hair as she tries to ignore the way your cock is still pulsing and leaking inside her.

“Need a break, baby?” She asks softly but you groan deeply, hands suddenly firming around her to flip both of you in bed. She gasps when her back hits the mattress, but her surprise is turned into something else when you pound into her with strength. “Fuck.”

Her hands fell into the bed with the shifting in the position, and Wanda's eyes widened a little when you reached for them, holding them together above her head.

This was new and Wanda was definitely not complaining.

“We should have tried this ages ago.” You say, your voice husky due to the efforts and the previous orgasms. Wanda thinks you look beautiful like this, out of breath while you fuck her. “I could be gentle but… something tells me you don't want me to.”

Your free hand moves down to flick her swollen clit between your fingers and Wanda cries out, her back arching on the bed. You smirk, adjusting just so you could move the toy that slipped out back inside her.

There's a quick teasing from your part, pushing just the tip of the toy into her overstimulated dripping pussy, but sooner than later, you push all the way inside. Cursing under your breath as Wanda fights against the hold on her hands. She wants to hold you so badly that it physically consumes her and you end up pitying her pleasing eyes and needy moans. 

But you don't free her hands, instead, you entrelaces your fingers together in a deep grip that anchors her when your movements resume.

The pounding is rough, it cracks the bed and takes Wanda to a state of colorful eyes and magic emanation. The only noises in the room are the shared moaning and the obscene sounds of your cock pushing into her aching heat, the moisture of your last climax leaking into the bed. When she comes, all the lights in the bedroom flash. You follow her this time, groaning into her neck as you come. 

For a second, none of you are able to say anything, all but breathless gasps leaving your lips. Then, there's a shared giggle, and your fingers, still interlaced, squeeze before letting go, only for you to remove the sweaty hair away from her face.

“Hey, you.” She smiles at your words, tired eyes threatening to close as she looks at you. “Enjoying yourself aren't you?”

“Don't tease me, when you're just whining three seconds ago.” She retorts, getting a chuckle from you. Wanda let her hands cross behind your neck. “Wanna join me in the shower?”

“Honey, if I ever say no to that, you can bet I lost my mind for good.” You joke, muffling her and giggling with your mouth.

[sleepymarimo]

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥!

read cw! summary: how the straw hat pirates treat you, a free use member of the crew pairing: straw hat crew x afab!reader, appropriate characters only ofc! cw: mdni, free use, multiple partners, vaginal sex, oral (m! and f! recieving), creampies, fingering, handjobs, groping, sex machines, voyeurism, exhibitionism, mutual masturbation, bondage an: this shit rated... porn. yes im sorry this is posted so late pls forgive me guys i love y'all wc: 2.8k+ for kinktober '23!

𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐘, as hyper and excitable as he is, doesn't fuck you as often as you thought he would. no, the captain can't say that he's particularly interested in sex.

however, what he loves to do, nearly everyday, is grope you. his hands always scramble to squeeze at your tits or ass, your tummy or thighs, and he'll do it at almost any time of day. when it came to this whole arrangement between you and the crew, he appeared to be the most shameless.

his rubber limbs seemed to sneak up on you at the most random times of day, his head poking out from around a corner and giving you a cheeky smile.

when he does use you for more than a grope or touch, it's always fun- a mutual experience that, more often than not, leaves you both laughing.

is willing to share! if he sees you busy with someone else, he'll interrupt without thought, be it with a smack to your ass or squeeze of your breasts

sometimes he'll let you wear the hat, usually if he's in a particularly good mood

sweet, fun and spontaneous. doesn't really mark you up, intentionally anyway, nor is he ever too rough. he'll make jokes, stretch in odd ways and makes sure you always have a smile on your face

an unintentional exhibitionist. he'll grope and fuck you anywhere, thinking it's funny watching people catch you. he's been yelled at by nami for it, though

finishes everywhere and anywhere, usually getting too caught up in the moment to really care. he's messy, not thinking twice about cumming on your face, in your mouth or on your breasts

likes overstimulating you, pushing you to your limits for the sake of fun

foreplay is not the best. sometimes he just gets too excited and uses his saliva to prep you. aftercare is a lot better! he'll get cuddly and bring snacks, becoming quite clingy with you

at first, 𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 doesn't really take advantage of the free use arrangement. he's rather indifferent about it, perhaps not seeing the appeal.

that all changes after a battle that was much too close, his adrenaline running high. he throws you over his shoulder, harshly tossing you onto the bed and working to get his clothes off while growling at you to get on all fours.

he briefly remembers overhearing you talk to the girls about your times with sanji, and he makes it a mission to outdo the cook in any way he can.

you never know when he'll strike, but when you're standing on the deck and suddenly feel goosebumps rising on your skin, you know just to bend over

acknowledges that you're up for free use, but he's selfish. if he gets the urge and you happen to be with someone else, he'll most likely huff out an 'oi, move over' and get to it. usually though, he prefers to have you to himself, with your attention only on him

after a session with zoro, you'll likely be leaving with bites and bruises. he knows sanji's 'schedule' with you and intentionally fucks you beforehand, wanting to piss off the cook by leaving marks on you

had to be educated on foreplay! the others got mad at him when he put you out of commission for a few days, since he didn't prep you enough. could also use some work with aftercare, since he usually falls asleep

more than okay with taking advantage of the agreement in the sense that he allows himself to be a little bossy, as if it were a transaction (which it kind of is...)

lots of orders and quick commands. a deal is a deal, and he doesn't really build some sort of special attachment with you (like a certain cook will)

finishes in you or on your ass without fail. is pretty smug about it, mostly because he knows that the cook is going to be licking it up from you later

difficult to predict when he'll need you. could be a few times a day or twice a week or once a month. more likely to engage if he's drunk, just had a battle or if he knows sanji is near

𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 has a pretty regular schedule when it comes to using you. with what she has to deal with on the ship, she wants nothing more than to plop onto bed, spread her legs and have you eat her out.

she doesn't hesitate to give you orders, somehow doing it in a way that's so sweet that you forget she's simply using you to get off. like luffy, shes also pretty big on groping, or at least, more than you'd expect.

a lot of 'innocent' touches. soft and curious pokes to your ass as you walk by. maybe a squeeze of your tits while the two of you hugged.

she's a touchy woman, up for cuddling and keeping you in the girl's cabin. nami knows the effect she has on you, using it to her advantage. when her cunning hands, she'll feel you up and give you compliments in that sultry tone of hers- the one she uses to get what she wants.

not a fan of sharing, especially with the guys. she is, however, more than willing to share with robin. with the three of you in the girl's quarters, things get pretty intense

very much a tease! she gets you worked up with the lightest of touches until you're begging her for more. nami makes you work for it

the navigator doesn't mind getting messy. she'll finger you, coax you into sucking them dry, then do it all over again. she likes spreading your wetness around, making a point to tease you about how excited you are

'better than all those dirty boys, right?'

head pusher and hair puller. when you're giving her oral, she isn't shy about letting you know what she wants

she likes being treated like a queen, obviously. nami feels high and mighty when you eat her out two or three times in a row, but when she sees how desperate you are for release, she starts coddling you and is quick to return the favor

is the first one to make you squirt, putting the guys to shame

nami is a busy woman. she mostly has you eat her out when she's stressed during the day, cuddles for a bit, then gets back to it. better with foreplay than she is with aftercare, but its fantastic all around

always seeming to hesitate would be 𝐔𝐒𝐎𝐏𝐏, who thinks that for some reason, you'll say no to his advances. even after weeks of the arrangement being in place, he'll always ask if what he does is okay.

he’s so so sweet! he touches you like it’s the first time, every time. the sniper is prone to getting heavy bouts of confidence though! with shaky breaths, he’d ask you if he made you feel better than your captain. hell, he loves it when you call him captain.

when he does find it in him to be brave, he always manages to surprise you. he creates all sorts of contraptions, with sex being lighthearted and fun as you go through his projects together.

loves to restrain you, to feel like he has control of you. you help him grow more comfortable and confident, which he appreciates. plus, he gets to let out that pervy side of him that he usually tucks away.

reluctant to share, mostly because he doesn't want to be outdone. however, he and luffy sometimes team up to give you quite the fun experience. lots of jokes and just a hint of playful competitiveness, all of which leave you nothing short of satiated

uses you on a weekly basis, but cozies up to you nearly everyday. he makes jokes about what he has in store for you, making promises of pleasure that leave your stomach in knots

an unintentional marker. might spank you too hard or leave a bruise, which makes him wheeze in embarrassment before he feels a swell of pride. a sort of 'i did that?!' to 'oh… i did that'

ties you up in all sorts of ways

he really does get off on your whines and moans. likes when you're loud

loves when you give him head. the control he has, combined with your sole focus on him, drives him crazy

the sound of you gagging on his cock turns him on more than he'd ever admit. he'll get a confidence burst and start to be more rough

loves finishing down your throat. he feels so confident and cocky, but as soon as he cums he's nervously asking if you're okay

good with foreplay and even better with aftercare… worries about your well-being and shows his gratitude toward you and your willingness to participate. tells you stories after you're all done, lulling you to sleep

when the arrangement was finalized, 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈 was one of the first to take advantage of it. nearly every day he indulges in the sweetness you offer. eating you out is a must! even though sanji is aware that this is just an agreement of sorts, it doesn't stop him from growing a little more attached to you.

sex with him is all encompassing and intense in the softest way possible. he does a good job of making you feel prioritized and wanted, beyond the scope of the free use deal. he's more attentive to your desires and how you want to get fucked on any given day.

truthfully, he's just happy to be able to serve you. funny enough, he tries to be respectful when it comes to groping you around the ship or in public. while luffy might be shameless in how he touches you, sanji does not want to make you uncomfortable or taint the 'lady-like' image he has of you.

he sees you as a meal which must be savored, after all.

sanji prefers more intimate sex, even if it's just an agreement. for this reason, he's not huge on sharing.

sometimes though, while he's getting hot and heavy with you, zoro will just barge in and remind the cook that you're free use, before just… joining

gets pissed off when he spreads your legs and sees zoro's cum leaking out of you. it doesn't stop him from lapping up each drop though, since nothing could keep him from that pussy of yours

sanji uses you on the daily. the cook's appetite is insatiable, but he always makes sure to prioritize your comfort and pleasure

such a sweet talker, swirling his tongue over your clit and insisting that you're the most precious person on the ship

likes leaving subtle marks on your body, on more intimate areas that you'll forget about until you're alone.

the spot below your ear, the insides of your thighs, the delicate skin of your wrist… he thinks that smaller bites and marks have their own charm. big ol' bruises on your collarbone or neck just seem so brutish!

finishes wherever you want him to. there are moments where he'll beg to cum inside your cunt, though. you gladly let him do so.

aftercare king. any food you want is yours. he'll draw a bath for you and eat you out one last time for good measure. gets irritated when he sees the others being too rough with you

miss 𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐍 is a force to be reckoned with. it takes her a few days before she has her first session with you, not because she was hesitant, but because she was waiting. watching.

she can play the long game, reading your cues and how you behave after having sex with other members of the crew. once she's sure she can break you down, she takes you. sex with robin is always a dizzying experience, almost unreal. between the many hands caressing you all over, and that cat-like gaze of hers, it's hard not to lose yourself.

very much a dominant lover, though whether she's soft or mean depends on her mood. regardless, she takes pleasure in watching you writhe and come undone.

it's a power play, a control she isn't fond of relinquishing.

only shares you with nami, franky and occasionally jinbei (if he's up for it), mostly because they can read the mood and follow her lead

weekly user, perhaps thrice a week if she's feeling up for it. most of the time, she's content to get you worked up for her and her only.

you can try to run off to someone else, but she knows she brings a certain element to the bedroom that no one can match

robin is slow and steady, curling her fingers just right and pulling away when you're about to burst. she's the second member to get you to squirt

she's nice to you in the meanest way possible. a lot of 'my, you're quite excited today' and 'such a sweet little thing'

hands on you and your most sensitive areas at all times. rubbing your clit, twisting your nipples and stroking every inch of skin. it's a full body experience.

does not particularly care for marking you up, physically at least. she leaves her own prints on you, something more soul-binding that goes beyond bruises and bitemarks that are bound to fade

takes care of you well before and after sex. she doesn't really indulge in quickies, only having sex when she knows the two of you will have an extended period of time to really enjoy it

on a more serious note, robin is also the one to explain to chopper what is going on between you and the crew. it does seem odd to the little reindeer, but he makes sure to be ready with contraceptives or pelvic exams when you need them.

𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐘 always has something special whipped up for you. within the first few days of you agreeing to this free use agreement, he indulged in you.

his dirty mind runs free with you and he doesn't hesitate to try out some new toys. thrusting sex machines and vibrating saddles… he has so many prototypes that he loves watching you squirm on.

he's also been able to give himself…upgrades that make things even more interesting. his favorite would be his detachable dick. he'll attach it to machines, watching and feeling as it effortlessly works into you.

he's not shy about such matters, not at all. sex with him is fun and he does a wonderful job of making you feel high-spirited and confident. your enthusiasm feeds into his pervy side.

down to share with anyone, honestly. this cyborg is up for most anything, given that you are, too

has you on the daily, but you never know when. sometimes it's in the morning, other times while you're getting ready for bed. if he's just restocked his cola though, you can expect a round or two

gives you his detachable dick and lets you use it as a dildo, so he can feel your cunt around him even when he's working in the shop

he eats you out and makes it messy. he spits and slurps as if your cunt was cola-flavored

likes getting head the same way. the sight of you with drool lining your lips and chin, mouth stuffed with his dick... he might let out an 'ow!' right then and there

doesn't mark you up intentionally. he just does his thing and makes sure you feel good. if he happens to leave some marks, he doesn't think too much of it

gets a little pissed off when zoro or luffy mark you up too much. he thinks they don't have to be that rough...

enjoys cumming on your chest and breasts. he's a simple man with simple pleasures

big on foreplay, but could work on his aftercare. he likes getting you worked up, likes to see you eager, but afterwards he's just so out of it. usually falls asleep and maybe hooks an arm around you

resident pervert 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐊 does not hesitate. once the agreement was set into motion, your panties were quick to be snatched up.

the skeleton is a voyeur, preferring to watch as opposed to actively participating. even when you know he's spying on you, you pretend not to notice. whether it's you masturbating or having sex with another member of the crew, you can bet that he's peeping in.

brook is also very much into groping, never missing the opportunity to squeeze your plump flesh when you walk by.

truthfully, he just revels in being a pervert, especially when he knows there aren't any consequences.

up for sharing in the sense that he likes to watch. some members are more okay with it than others

he's scared the living daylights out of usopp, has been threatened by zoro and gotten encouragement from franky. he just laughs though, finding a thrill in getting caught

his eye (sockets?) are on you pretty frequently. at the end of everyday, he'll ask for your panties and pockets them with gusto

it's common for brook to ask for your panties after you're done having sex with someone else. he just thinks it's so naughty!

he'll walk by you and ask you to flash him, losing his mind every time you lift your shirt and show him your breasts

his groping is never hard enough to leave marks. he likes the squishy skin, since he's all bone, so he just has a hand on you and absentmindedly squeezes your breasts like you're a walking stress ball

like he always asks for your panties, he always asks for permission to touch and grope you

one of the most respectful would be 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐁𝐄𝐈. it takes him a while to settle into the whole arrangement. a part of him did see it as taboo, especially considering that he's a fishman.

however, he realizes that what he asks of you doesn't have to be inherently sexual. that's why, jinbei enjoys having you do mundane tasks for him, all while completely nude. his eyes are never lewd or hungry, but thoughtful as he watches you fold his clothes or make his bunk.

ever the respectful man, he doesn't want to leer at you as if you were an object. things build slowly and intimately between the two of you.

it starts as you wandering around without clothes, then it's mutual masturbation, then eventually he's fucking you.

this fishman prefers to have you to himself. he wants sex to happen in a comfortable atmosphere. it's a calming, almost therapeutic environment that he prefers to navigate you through, without the presence of others

would not mind if robin joined in, seeing as she's mature and would enjoy the vibes

he prefers not to have sex when he knows he's in a bad mood. he doesn't want to let such trivial, emotional matters guide him, but sometimes it's not avoidable, so…

marks come in the form of spanks, red patches on your ass that he's quick to soothe with a rough palm. it's a way for him to get his anger and frustration out, though the next day, once he's calmed down, he's quick to apologize

cumming inside you seems so taboo that he finds himself doing it more than he should. it's a guilty pleasure that he denies himself less and less as time goes on

sex is weekly, sometimes less. he has a fairly good handle on himself and makes it a point not to lose himself in pure lust.

he also very much takes into consideration that you're busy with others, so he doesn't want to overwhelm you

once this little arrangement is finalized, 𝐘𝐎𝐔 never worry about being alone or untended to. they know better than to leave their little free use doll unsatisfied.

when you're sick or unwell, it's everyone's problem. though you're the one being used, you're so protected and well cared for, like their secret treasure.

even if some don't explicitly express their gratitude, anyone can acknowledge that this agreement takes a toll on you in one way or another.

luffy lends you his hat, zoro shares his sake, nami loans you money, usopp makes you trinkets, sanji lets you get first pick on dessert, robin teaches you how to read poneglyphs, franky designs machines for you, brook plays you special tunes and jinbei lets you ride on all the whale sharks you want.

overall, it's a pretty sweet deal!

taglist: @queen-of-elves, @who-the-hockeysticks, @sxhy-town, @flower-hua, @iwannachokeontojifushiguroscock (thank y'all for being patient 🫶)

[nvuy]

do u think boothill would be obsessed w readers waist . literally holding it pinching it using it to move them around etc he makes me a little crazy

yup.

always has an arm around your waist. and he always has to call you my man/my lady, otherwise it’s ‘honey’ and i’m not elaborating. he thinks he’s so smooth (dont tell him you can hear the fans whirring below his body). you’re, what, 2 years into this relationship and he’s still blushing at the ears and stuttering when you smile at him.

he can be smooth, sometimes. it’s all in the southern drawl, and also just him being quite touchy in general. has also like, 100% said, “well, hello, nurse” once or twice with a whistle when you walked in the room.

he’s not the biggest hand holder—he doesn’t like his hands at all—so he’d rather just squash you in tight next to him as much as he can.

he’s basically your guard dog. he’s always attached to you somehow, will bark and bite at anything that he doesn’t like coming close to you, and he feels like the king of the world knowing that he, some stupid hunk of scrap metal and junk, bagged you. nobody knows how he did it. he doesn’t even know. sometimes he thinks he’s dreaming.

he’s feel like an absolute gentleman as well, so there’s that too. he’s going to tickle you at any given opportunity, as well as give you a little squeeze. he’s got that sort of cuteness aggression inside him i think. if your back is turned, he’ll pinch your sides and nip at your neck like a puppy. he’s like that.

speaking of your back, somebody’s gotta call the mechanic if you’re wearing a top with a low or exposed back, or if you just take the damn shirt off entirely. he’s like a victorian man seeing ankles for the first time if he sees even an inch of your spine. why are you seducing him like this. please stop staring at him with heart eyes when he’s stumbling over his words.

he can’t join you on beach days unfortunately—sand and water not great for the robo-body—but he will be reluctant to let you leave, considering you’ve got basically nothing on and he wants you all to himself.

he also loves your legs. please swing them on his lap and use his as a foot stool. he won’t even complain. don’t get him wrong, he loves you in formal wear; suit, dress, whatever you want, but by the gods when you wear shorts or a skirt his brain melts.

appreciates nice shoes as well. fancy formal wear sort of stuff. he’s a total sucker for it.

if you wear heels, he loves those too (makes you look taller so rawr) (he will do that cat purr rolling tongue noise i have no clue what it’s called) (also he knows any sort of fancy shoes hurt your feet so YAY he gets to carry you home!!!!!! he wins!!!!!!!!!) (he’ll hold your shoes in one hand and carry you like you’re made of glass. doesn’t matter if you’re embarrassed. to be fair, he thinks you deserve to be carried everywhere. you’re way too ethereal to be touching the floor in any sort of way).

i just like the idea that he’s the biggest most loserish simp in the world. loves his partner more than anything in the world. whipped to all hell. will put a bullet in his head if it would make you smile.

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

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."

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

HIIIIIIIIIIIIII😁

THIS IS MY FIRST TIME DOING A REQUEST 😁😁😁😁

Can you make one where you say the safe word because Regina was going to ruff because she had a bad day and she was having attitude with everyone that day plssssss🙏🏾

PS. I LOVE YOUR STORYS

Stress Relief

|| Regina George x fem!reader

|| Warnings; smut, Regina fucking reader senseless, strap on uses, reader receiving, safe word used, swearing, dom Regina, bottom reader, multiple orgasms/overstimulation, short ish drabble

|| Summary; when Regina's had a rough day, reader becomes her relief.

Requests open!

Started; october 27th

Finished; october 27th

~~~

Home. Regina couldn't have gotten there faster with you. She was so sick of everyone. And she needed some sort of relief, you just happened to be the closest thing to her. Which meant you got dragged to the blonde's room. You followed behind your girlfriend helplessly, realizing exactly what you were in for. On days like this... you just knew you wouldn't be able to walk the next day. Regina was in a mood. You were her stress relief.

"Hurry up." Regina demanded, glancing back at you. You sighed and moved your pace a little faster before she shoved you into her room. She took you to her bed and forced you to lay down, grabbing your chin to look into her eyes. She debated saying something, but scrapped it and just kissed you roughly. The kiss was bruising as she bit your lip, you whimpered in response and gripped at her arms. Trying your best to keep up with Regina's pace. She wasn't holding anything back. When she parted, your lips were swollen.

Regina reached for the bedside drawer, grabbing the strap on and lube." Take your clothes off." She demanded, leaving zero room for arguments. You easily complied, getting your clothes off as she lubed the silicone dick. She got it attached as you discarded the last of your clothing to the floor. Regina's hands came and gripped at your hips," stop squirming." She practically growled out her command and you did your best to follow.

She aligned the strap with your entrance, then pushed herself in without warning. Earning a sharp gasp from you as your hand flew to grip the sheets while you bit your other. Regina pulled your hand away from your mouth, her nails digging into your skin as her eyes bore into yours. "I want to fucking hear you." Regina's hand moved from yours to back on your chin, gripping the skin to keep your focus on her. You whimpered at her touch, body trembling as her hips went back then snapped forward.

You moaned, clawing at the sheets as Regina thrusted into you. Then again. And again. Each thrust getting harder and faster than the last as she worked up to the pace she wanted. As each thrust got harder, each of your moans got louder and your head tilted back but she forced you to look at her again. Regina's thumb moved into your mouth as she made you suck on her. Your eyes locked on hers. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed throughout the room. Followed by your muffled screams of pleasure. She didn't stop even after you'd released on her twice, Regina wasn't giving you any breaks today. You felt helpless, unable to do anything but make strings of moans as your body felt limp. Completely in her control.

Your eyes tightened shut as you felt your stomach knot; a third orgasm creeping up on you. You tried to speak but she had you fucked senseless. You whimpered as you came undone again, your mouth dry and head spinning. You desperately needed water and a moment to breathe. But Regina clearly wasn't letting you have either. You weakly slapped at her arm, trying to get her attention.

"Re- Regin-" You gave up trying to say her name, switching to your safe word instead. Desperate to get her attention and make her stop," pi- pin-" Regina froze when she heard you trying to say 'pink'. Her mind quickly registering the safe word and forcing herself to stop. Looking down at you with wide eyes when she realized for the first time just how out of you were. She'd gone too hard.

"Shit." Regina muttered, taking herself out of you and quickly getting you a glass of water. She handed you the glass and then helped you drink as she laid down next to you. Her hand on the back of your head to keep you up. The water pouring down your throat, giving you the refresher you needed. Your eyes rolled back and you slumped onto the bed. Chest heaving. Regina's eyes took in your tired form, seeing just how much she roughed you up." Baby... you there?" She asked quietly. Trying to figure out just how far gone you were.

You tried to nod, letting her know you heard her which made her relax a little." Fuck, I'm sorry." She murmured, giving your cheek a gentle kiss. You leaned into her and she held you close, setting the water on your bedside as she brushed your skin with her thumb.

Regina kept you in her arms, letting you regain some of your strength," would you like me to run a bath?" She asked, looking down to you.

"Please.." You croaked out, able to speak even at least a little now. She stayed with you for a moment longer before going to run your bath. Knowing she had a night of after care ahead of her.

[hippopotamusdreamer]

Period Reds

genre. [F][C]

warnings. Talks about periods; as in MENSTRUAL CYCLES. No actual mentions of blood but it does talk about tampons, pads and cramps.

additional notes. Female! Reader | You/Your pronouns, reader is aged between Hyunjin and Han, includes all members of Stray Kids in some way, Lee Know as Minho

This was a request by an Anon!

Hope you don't mind that I tweaked it a bit!

pairing. OT8 x 9th member

w.c. 1.1K

synopsis. It's that time of the month again, so how do the boys handle it?

Kpop Masterlist

Fandom Masterlist

Waking up, you knew that that day was going to be a problem.

You’d started your period yesterday. And as usual, Day 2 was always the worst for you. Everything felt twice as difficult. Lower back pain? Unbearable. Cramps? Unbearable. Overwhelming urge to not move? Unbearable in your line of work.

Not only did you have to waddle to the bathroom like some sort of deranged cowboy, but the ondol in the apartment stopped working at the beginning of month so your tootsies were cold. Your mother had always nagged that your cramps were worse because you were barefoot on the cold floor. You hated every second you were out of bed…

Not to mention your lower half needed a soak but the unfortunate thing about Korean bathrooms was that there was no tub. Just a double filtered showerhead attached to the sink.

At least the water heater worked…

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

After allowing the discomforts of this morning literally go down the drain, you found yourself holed up in one of Binnie’s pullovers. Not wanting to be confined to your room, you made your move. Fuzzy socks and house slippers on, you trudged your way to the living room, the plush couch calling your name. Everyone was out for the day besides Hyunjin since it was one of the rare days off.

Speaking of Hyunjin, the couch was where he found you not even fifteen minutes later of laying down. Half asleep and cozy with s Pochacco blanket that remained in the living room. The title song of some random Netflix show playing on the tv nearly lulling you to sleep.

As he dried his hair with a towel, he made his way to you. A pep in his step until he saw how your eyebrows remained furrowed. Kneeling by your head, he touched your forehead while calling out to you gently.

“Y/N-ah?”

“Mm?” you roused softly.

“You ok?”

“Mmhmm”

“You don’t feel warm, so you’re not sick…at least not yet.”

“’m not sick Hyunjinnie. My uterus is just mad at me for not being pregnant,” you mumbled.

“Oooh,” he says, already used to how casually you talked about your period with them. With that new information squared away, he took out his phone to message Minho.

‘We have a Code: Empty Nester’

Minho hyung: How is she?

‘Image.png sent’ Minho-hyung: Ah it’s day 2 Minho-hyung: Give me 20 minutes. I’ll be there soon. Minho-hyung: Message Felix too ‘Ok’ ‘Lix, we got a Code: Empty Nester’ Yongbokkie: Which day are we on? ‘2’ Yongbokkie: ‘2 ½ batches of extra fudge brownies coming up.’

Nodding to himself, he looked back towards you. You’d basically conked out on him, so he couldn’t ask you if you needed any of the American medicine you had. Instead he decided to do the next best thing.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Minho and Han walked into the rapper dorm; hands loaded with groceries for the soup that he was going to make for you. You’d commented once that it had settled your stomach when he’d whipped it up the first couple of times during your period. So now it was basically a staple during these times.

They were rendered motionless immediately after taking off their outside shoes. Through the opening that lead inside the apartment, they were able to see you and Hyunjin asleep on the couch. Somehow Hyunjin had managed to wiggle himself behind you and had essentially koala wrapped himself around you. They silently chuckled as they walked past, careful not to make a sound. It was common knowledge amongst them that you got terrible sleep any time you got your period.

The two of you stayed asleep until the soup was just about ready for lunch. Felix and Jeongin walked through the door, each carrying a kimchi container filled with brownies. Smiling as they watched you stir, Felix handed over his container to the maknae and made his way towards you.

“Hey sleepyhead,” he greeted softly while cupping your cheek as he crouched in front of you.

You gave him a delirious smile in return, still in the process of waking up.

“You hungry?”

“I am,” the muffled voice of Hyunjin was heard from behind you. The two of you giggle as the lanky man detangled himself from you.

“Minho-hyung made your favorite-” the Aussie began.

“Soooup,” you cut him off with a croak.

“Haha, yeah soup. And I made brownies.”

“Extra fudge?”

“Of course, I’m not a monster.”

“You guys are the best,” you said with your best half asleep smile.

“Wanna get up?”

“Yeah, just give me a sec,”

The other thing about Korea was that tampons were not widely used in comparison to pads. So getting a box of 12 was not worth the price. Instead you had to wait for your friends and family back in America to send you a mega pack to keep over time. Which meant that you were able to feel everything shifting as you moved about.

Hyunjin helped you up slowly from your laid down positions. Occasionally having to stop every now and then. Until a sudden pain in your lower stomach had you take a breath in sharply. A few seconds of worried glances from the boys had you reassuring them that you were fine and that it happened every now and then.

“I’m gonna go freshen up first then meet everyone in the kitchen, ok?”

As you made your way to your bathroom, you heard Jeongin calling after you.

“Hyung said that him, Changbinnie-hyung, and Seungminnie-hyung were at the store picking up snacks for your stash. But then Sungminnie-hyung said that they were out of your chocolate covered sunflower seeds. They said they’ll be here in like 15 minutes.”

“Aww, tell them I said that’s ok and thank you!”

Phone in hand, you sat on the toilet. You couldn’t help but reflect as the sounds of the boys getting rowdy in the kitchen intensified. You were very appreciative of them and how far your relationship with each of them had come. How grateful you were for their understanding of you and your menstrual cycle. There have been plenty of childish men in your life that had tried to make you feel bad when talking about it but they were no longer worth your time.

Your guys certainly made everything easier to deal with.

You knew you’d gotten lost on your phone doom scrolling when a timid knock sounded from the door and Chan questioned if you were alright.

‘Uh-oh…’

“…I’ll be out in a sec!”

a/n. For my sake, 9th member will never be a different age than where she's at. Just to keep everything orderly.

Tag list: @elizalabs3

This in no way reflects the actual persons involved/based in this fic, nor their actual character. This is purely fiction.

© hippopotamusdreamer, est 2024. all rights reserved.

[erwinsvow]

Heeeey, Shea. How are you?

I just wanted you to know I love your stories. Kook trio reader and shy reader are my favorite. 

I know that's not how it went, but I really think in another universe, Rafe would have trouble getting to date shy!reader because she just wouldn't realize he was flirting hard with her. Maybe a bit of self esteeming issues or because she's inexperiente. But, anyway, I see her being completely oblivious about all his efforts and being like "he's so nice, guys. No, he would never flirt with me. You guys are insane" and everyone else would be like "girl... what?".  

Thank you for your stories, they keep me smiling. <3

- T.

hi t!!! thank you so so much for your kind words, it means so much. i am so glad you love the different readers on this blog! i think your idea is so cute and funny, it suits them perfectly. here's a little bit based on what you sent and i hope you enjoy ♡

since the day you had met rafe—truly met him, not counting the multiple instances where you had passed him in tannyhill attached to sarah's hip when he hadn't even realized you'd been there—you had been a little confused about the newfound attention he was giving you.

you felt it was strange. sarah was always going on and on about how mean rafe was, how badly he treated others and how he never spared a minute to talk to anyone. but she must have been exaggerating. right?

the rafe that you were becoming more and more acquainted with was nothing of the sort. from the time he had driven you home a few weeks ago to now, he had been nothing but nice—offering you a ride everytime you were at tannyhill, asking if you wanted anything when he was on his way out. he even went out of his way to find you at the country club, stopping to say hi even if it was in the middle of one of his golf matches.

it was nice. it was really nice. everything sarah had told you about him seemed to be completely wrong, but then you realized it. rafe was probably trying to be a better brother, and starting with being nice to sarah's friends was likely a good jumping off place.

with this notion firmly stuck in your mind, you proceeded to go about your days, smiling sweetly at rafe when he was being so nice and reminding yourself to tell sarah—her brother was making a big effort, and it deserved to be recognized.

"did i see rafe walk away from the course to say hi to you?" sarah asks, and you look up at her, a little surprised. you hadn't brought it up yet, and in all honestly, didn't know when you would.

your other girl friends look a little closer at you—surprise evident on their faces too. you hate being the center of attention but somehow it feels even worse like this—they're all getting the wrong impression.

"yes.. he's being very nice. i think he's trying to make it up to you, y'know, for being mean like you say he is."

"by being nice to you?"

"by being nice to all of us," you add quickly, looking at the other girls, waiting for them to pitch in.

"he's never been nice to me."

"i don't think he's even ever said hi to me."

"so how exactly has he been nice to you?" sarah asks, and you feel your face burn. they still have the wrong impression and you have no idea how you'll correct them.

"well not much," you lie, clearing your throat. "he just gave me a ride home a few times. and he said hi a couple times here. and got me a soda from the gas station the other day."

"not much?" your friend questions.

"he never asks me what i want from the gas station-" you interrupt sarah, eager to make sure they stop speculating.

"he was just being nice. it was nothing, i-"

"what's next?" sarah asks, cocking her head at you. "don't tell me, he lets you pick the music in his car?" she laughs, and the others do too, but you stare back at her blankly.

"just once or twice," you mumble, suddenly finding your drink and the misty glass far too interesting.

"oh my god. he's totally flirting with you." you whip your head up so fast you think you got whiplash.

"you're insane. that is so not what this is. he was just being nice."

"if any other guy did this, you'd be picturing your future wedding-"

"it's not just any other guy, it's sarah's brother. do you see the kind of girls he goes out with? that's how i know he's being nice, i'm nothing like them-"

you feel incredibly flustered, face hot and playing with your hands like you do when you get nervous. your friends are laughing, and though you know it's not at you, you still hate the feeling, feeling like you might burst from the intensity of the emotions you're experiencing right now. first and foremost—the fact that maybe rafe wasn't just being nice to you.

"yeah?" you hear, though you don't look up. "then why's he walking over here right now?"

[kaija-rayne-author]

Do whatever you want, believe whatever you want. And using Veilguard as any sort of source for anything remotely related to canon Lore is just ridiculous. It's so... awful, IMHO, to use it to defend any sort of point.

I'm not certain if this would be considered critical, so I'll put it under a cut. Potentially critical of Veilguard.

Though I'm really just talking about the Lore.

I point out 4 massive retcons in Veilguard that blew my mind and that I see people commonly using as arguing points. And yes, if someone wants to pay me for the time, I can prove all of it with sources.

What little canon Lore they actually used in Veilguard? They twisted beyond recognition.

Just a few examples.

1. The blight is NOT, in fact, (or even in Veilguard) 'everywhere in the Fade'. It has always been contained to the Black City, that floats disconnected from everything else in the Fade. It's why the previously golden city is black ffs! Even in Veilguard, it's really damned obvious that the Fade isn't full of blight. We hop in and out of the Fade throughout the whole damned game like it's a shopping mall.

2. The Fade is not full of demons. Demons are spirits (people) of emotion. What usually twists them into demons is coming through the veil! The only reason there was the big demon in DAI is because it was attached to Coryphyfish. There's probably some, but it's an arguable point that an emotion spirit of, say, anger, or spite is actually a demon. Emotions aren't bad. They wouldn't automatically be demons simply because they reflect a negative emotion.

3. The veil has been canonically choking the life and magic out of Thedas for thousands of years. If the veil didn't come down, there would be no Thedas. This is clearly spelled out in canon. The veil was never meant to be part of the world. At the end of Trespasser, the veil is as holey as my grandmother's doilies. It's not as they tried to depict it in Veilguard, a firm, whole wall holding hordes of demons and the blight of blights back. That's such a bullshit retcon, and I make weird faces every time I try to figure out the mental gymnastics necessary for someone to come up with that idea.

4. It's also a massive retcon that Solas lies. (Sigh. Yes. It really is. No matter what you believe.) He canonically does not. They rewrote his character for DAI so that he doesn't lie because it weakened the character. He was originally written as much more similar to Blackwall. They decided it weakened Solas as a character and made sure he doesn't lie. He obfuscates, misleads, doesn't answer, and is really good at letting people make assumptions or even leading people to make assumptions. Because that is what a Trickster does! But in all of DAI and Trespasser, he does not lie except once. At the Winter Palace when you ask him where he got the experience of court. No. A 'lie of omission' is not a lie by the definition or philosophical understanding of what a lie is. You, as the player, not paying close attention to what he says doesn’t mean he lies either! He is not the 'god of lies'. That's Epler's hate shining through. Throughout 3 games, many dlcs, books, comics, short stories, the Dread Wolf is known as the Trickster. The god of rebellion and sometimes the god of betrayal. He is never once referred to as the god of lies in anything pre-veilguard. It's. Bullshit.

And Solas is an absolutely terrible liar. He stumbles all over himself trying to do it in the winter palace. It's hilarious tbh.

There were more retcons. But I need to go help with dinner.

Just, even if you liked Veilguard, don't use it as a defense in any sort of discussion of Lore. Perhaps listen to us Lore fiends, instead? Because they shat all over the Lore for Veilguard.

Real talk? It makes you look ignorant to anyone who actually has been paying attention to the Lore.

FWIW? I'm not in the best of moods right now. Please think twice, then a third time before responding/reblogging in disagreement. (Unless you're polite and actually have sources I haven't seen. I'm usually willing to have polite discussions or answer questions. I'm also willing to stand corrected if people actually can prove me wrong with sources attached. A 'nuhn unh, Solas lies cause I believe he does', won't get you far with me.) Nor will using anything from DAV to support an argument. I've relegated DAV to the graveyard of not-canon because of the complete disrespect of the Lore.

And I'll just laugh at you if you try to attack me. Internet randos filling my responses with shit doesn't phase me, bother me in the slightest, or make me upset. I find it incredibly, laugh out loud amusing because I've lived through so much more than that in my life.

[freeuselandonorris]

honestly would kill to see your take on any kink ever, but I must admit I haven't been able to get your thoughts on electrostim out of my mind since you shared them so. that one. (+camshow if you're feeling it 👀)

ps.: I did have a good festive season, and I hope you did too!! 🫶🫶

glad to hear it! 🫰 mine has been. mixed. but mostly good thank u!

obviously could not resist this one. enjoy oscar being the stone cold freak for once!

Lando had asked to see it, mainly because he didn’t entirely believe Oscar was telling the truth. 

Oscar was cool and everything. Funny, with a saucy mouth on him once you got to know him. But you had to admit the guy came off as �� well. Vanilla. 

So when they’d gotten pissed together on leftover Moët in Lando’s suite and Oscar had picked up the TENS machine Jon had left in there, turned it over in his hands and said, “are you into electrostim?” in tones of nervous delight, Lando hadn’t even considered it might be some sort of weird sex thing.

What the fuck is electrostim? he’d asked, tipping the remnants of his glass down his throat, which meant he didn’t notice Oscar’s horrified expression for a few seconds. 

“Nothing,” Oscar said quickly, but by that point Lando had clocked the blush spreading rapidly across his cheeks and perked right up. Even then, he’d figured it was something embarrassing, but not — that. 

He’d not believed it, when Oscar explained it. How you could wire up the same kind of machine Jon used to zap the cramps out of his aching thighs and stick it round your cock. Not that Oscar said it so brazenly. There was a lot of umm-ing and err-ing, a lot of vague hand gestures and stuttering, before Lando got the picture. 

“Fuck off,” Lando said when Oscar finished stammering out the barest of explanations. “Really? You?”

”Jesus, Lando,” Oscar said, somewhere between exasperated and indignant.

“I bet you a hundred quid you can’t,” Lando said. 

Oscar shrugged. “Believe what you like.”

Lando, whose impulse control was bad at the best of times and even worse combined with half a bottle of champagne and a burgeoning stiffy, picked the machine up from where Oscar had dropped it onto the coffee table and held it out. “Show me?”

Oscar gaped at him. He was redder than Lando had ever seen him, but he didn’t look mad or anything. Just — blindsided, maybe. 

“Not now,” Oscar said eventually. His voice came out in a kind of croak, and he cleared his throat before he spoke again. “Maybe — maybe some other time.”

Lando knew a brush-off when he saw one, so he shrugged and changed the subject and tried not to feel too mortified about it. Oscar made his excuses after another glass, sloped off to his own bedroom, and Lando put the whole embarrassing affair out of his mind. 

When his phone buzzed a week later with a text from Oscar, he had to read it twice before he understood it.

Osc 19:48 Hey. I took a video if you’re still interested. No worries if not, don’t want to pressure 🙂

Lando breathed out hard through his nose, blinking at his phone.

lando 19:50 thats the politest sext i’ve ever had yeh i am pls

Osc 19:51 🙄 it was hardly a sext [video attached]

The thumbnail was blurry, a flash of maroon and some squiggles that might be wires. Lando swallowed hard, thumb hovering over the play button. He tapped it.

”Okay,” Oscar’s voice came from the phone’s speaker, quiet. Lando kicked the volume up a couple of notches, watching a confusion of movement. Oscar’s torso, clad in his usual plain t-shirt, and a pair of khaki knee-length shorts, open at the waist. The wires Lando had spotted led out to a hand-held control box, similar to the one Jon used but a different model. 

On-screen, Oscar cleared his throat. “Had it on for five minutes or so already,” he said. His voice was a little shaky, like he was nervous. He swallowed audibly before he spoke again. “So I’m a little — I’m already, you know.” A soft laugh. “Sorry, don’t know how well I’ll be able to, um, talk you through it. Let me just — I’ll just show you.”

He exhaled, audibly steeling himself, and Lando felt himself mirror the action unconsciously. His hands were sweating enough to worry he might drop his phone. He swore under his breath and hit pause on Oscar, heading through to his bedroom and flopping back onto the bed. After a moment’s deliberation, he shoved his own shorts down to mid-thigh. He wasn’t hard yet, but — well. Better to have the option. 

He hit play. Oscar-on-the-screen hummed thoughtfully and then the screen blurred again. Some scuffling sounds that made Lando wince, the screen going briefly dark and then bleaching light again until Oscar came back into focus from the neck down to mid-thigh, standing in what looked like his bathroom with the camera, presumably, propped on the sink. 

“Right, that’s better,” Oscar said, and breathed out again, a short sharp exhalation. “Okay, here goes.” 

He put the control box down, out of shot, and visibly straightened his spine before he pushed his shorts down. No boxers. Oscar, Lando thought admiringly. I wouldn’t have thought you had it in you.

It took the camera a few moments to focus, but when it did, Lando bit back a groan. Oscar’s cock was thick, semi-hard, and covered in wires. A thick black loop of it cinched tight around the base, and another snug beneath the head of his cock, trailing a black wire. 

“Had it on low,” Oscar said. “I’ll turn it up a bit.”

His hand reached out of frame and adjusted something, and he gasped. His cock jerked, filling out in front of Lando’s wide eyes. Oscar made a soft noise, the muscles in his forearm flexing as he adjusted something else that made his cock jump again, a tiny rhythmic pulse. 

“Ah,” Oscar said. “That’s — about halfway now. Feels pretty intense.”

He adjusted himself with one hand, pulling the top loop of wire a little tighter with the plastic toggle tucked up tight beneath the head. His long fingers hovered for a second, like he was struggling not to jack himself off, help things along. 

Lando let out a string of curses beneath his breath and grabbed himself. He thumbed at the bottom of the screen to bring up the playback bar. Jesus, the video wasn’t even a quarter of the way through yet. 

He watched Oscar’s cock get harder, bobbing in midair. Lando tuned himself into it after a minute or so. He could tell when Oscar adjusted the intensity of the current by the way Oscar’s cock flushed red, jolting against his belly, the veins on the underside pulsing beneath his foreskin. 

Still, it made him gasp when Oscar’s cock blurted thin clear liquid. It trickled down the side of his cock and dropped out of sight. 

“Yep,” Oscar said tightly. “Yeah, it’s. Getting good now.”

“Oh my God, Oscar,” Lando said to his empty room, voice shocked and shaking. 

Oscar hummed again, a low rumble in his chest. When he spoke again, it sounded like an effort. “Sometimes it makes me, uh. I think it stimulates my bladder or something, so — just to warn you.”

Lando let out a shuddering breath, blinking hard at the screen. This was insane. Both of them had clearly lost their minds. He wondered, for a brief paranoid second, whether this was some sort of sophisticated deepfake scam and he was going to have his bank account emptied or his DMs leaked yet again. But no, Oscar had said it to his face. 

“Right,” Oscar’s voice came over the speaker. “Gonna take it up another notch. It’s getting — it’s strong now.” 

Lando could hear it now. A faint ticking sound, barely there, pulsing in time to the jerk of Oscar’s swollen cock. Oscar pulled up the hem of his t-shirt with one hand and clenched his abs, gasping. 

“Ah, jeez,” Oscar gritted out, and on the screen, his cock jumped and let out a spurt of liquid. It spattered wet against his stomach, dripping down. Too far away from the camera to be able to see what it was. 

Lando curled his toes into the bedding. He was wanking furiously now, skin slapping against skin sounding overly loud in the room compared to the processed sound of Oscar’s heavy breaths. On the screen, Oscar’s cock was pulsing rhythmically, drooling clear liquid with every movement. Little droplets ran down the shaft, dripping to the floor. The hem of Oscar’s t-shirt had fallen down again when he’d let go of it, and it was dark and damp. Lando found himself wanting to suck it clean.

”Not—” Oscar’s breath hitched on a moan. “Not long now.” 

You’re telling me, Lando thought wildly, squeezing himself around the base to try to calm himself down. He was panting, thighs flexing with the need to come, but Oscar hadn’t yet, and he wanted to see it. 

“Okay,” Oscar was saying on the screen, more to himself than the camera. “Gonna — gonna turn it up to max now, and that’ll probably do it.”

He reached out then and picked up the phone, bringing it closer to his straining cock. As the camera moved, Lando caught a glimpse of his face, red and shining with sweat. 

“Ready?” Oscar’s voice came over the speakers, and Lando moaned at the shock of being directly addressed. 

Oscar reached his other hand out to the control unit, and Lando saw his thighs clench, his cock lurch violently. 

“Oh, fuck,” Oscar rasped. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—” 

He came, untouched and messy, spraying across his t-shirt. Before he knew it, Lando was coming too, letting it get all over his own stomach as Oscar’s ragged gasps echoed in his ears. 

Lando stopped coming before Oscar did. Oscar’s cock was red and angry-looking, still spurting thin liquid every few seconds as his thighs shook visibly. Then the screen tilted dizzily, and the video stopped.

Lando stared at the screen, shell-shocked. His brain felt like it had been hollowed out. 

“Fucking hell,” he croaked to the phone. He wanted to laugh, slightly hysterical. Instead he wiped his sticky hand on his shirt and swiped out of the video, back to his message thread with Oscar.

lando 20:03 omfg wow

A second later, Lando’s phone vibrated, but there was no reply in his thread with Oscar. Instead, there was a notification from his bank. Lando opened it.

Oscar Piastri has requested funds! Oscar Piastri has requested £100.00 GBP.  Message from recipient: “Told you so.” Accept request to transfer funds?

[confettiibunny]

bf!leon hcs ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-

note :: mentions of sex twice, straight silliness and not meant to be taken seriously !! I just goobered around for 800 something words. Also I personally thought of di!leon bcs I love that old man 😈

──── ୨୧ ──── ₊⊹ ──── ୨୧ ────

⭑.ᐟ Loves to give you hugs from behind, warm breath tickling your neck as his hands are splayed on your tummy. Feeling his stubble graze upon your skin, calloused palms slipping under your shirt to feel you. Almost on instinct the two of you start to sway, rocking back and forth and back and forth. "Prettiest girl I've ever seen, mhm. As cute as a button." No matter how long you've been attached to the hip with Leon his voice always makes you a mess, the low timbre of it tickling your ear and sends a little shudder down your spine. And he knows this and takes this moment to tease you, lips against the shell of your ear as he whispers sweet nothings and his hands slowly but surely creeping upwards to your chest. But it's not long until honeyed words turn to desperate kisses and gentle touches turn to needy. Forgive him, really, he's just a man and man has his needs. And as he scoops you up and carries you off to the nearest flat surface, it's not like he won't satisfy your needs too.

ᝰ.ᐟ Gives the best piggyback rides. No, actually please do this with him; he'll try not to act like crazy at first but deep down it makes him so happy you have no idea. Who is he to pass up the chance to have you clinging to him with your arms around his neck and legs on his hips? It's so cute to him when he starts to run around the apartment, laughing as your shrieks and yelps fill the air. Yeah, you might be choking him a little with your arms but it's okay! Nothing beats hearing you struggle for air after laughing your ass off and feeling you lift his bangs up to lay sloppy kisses on his forehead.

⭑.ᐟ Plays with your hair as you guys cuddle. Mainly just a lot of petting, like you're a cat of some sort. Gets on your ass about it sometimes and playfully scolds you when you practically push your head into his chest to get him to touch your hair. It's soothing for both parties, laying you down atop his body and working his fingers into your strands to massage your head. Your blissed-out expression is enough for him, he’s do anything to keep it in his memory for life. Yes, playing with your hair was a must. Unless you just washed it. The hair stays untouched then. But on the days before you rewash your hair, you let him mess around with it as you're sprawled on top of him. Leon also does his best to undoes any knots he makes during sex and he's so attentive with it. Keen eyes do wonders for a tender-headed girl, propping your spent body in his lap as he carefully works out any tangles. Thinks your hair is so pretty and dotes on it, never letting you feel negative about it.

ᝰ.ᐟ Cat dad. Hates dogs, but that's not a shocker. But also, he doesn't actually adopt a cat. Instead, he constantly comes home and whips out a stray kitten from his coat, holding the little critter in the palm of his hand. Makes you a cat mom (with your permission), and does his hardest to make sure the kitten is healthy. His favorite part of the process is when he sits on the couch and lays the little thing on his chest, giving it the lightest rubs as it curls up into a ball. You snag a lot of photos of these moments and save every single one, documenting every single cat he helps. You'll also use these pics to prove the fact he has some fat tits but for now, you'll let him have this wholesome moment with his strays.

⭑.ᐟ Not a single nonchalant bone in his body anymore. Yeah no, he grew out of that after nearly fucking dying more times than he can count on his fingers. That's partly your doings since being nonchalant doesn't exist in your vocabulary either. Besides, Leon's got a girlfriend sweeter than honey on cream. Who the hell is acting nonchalant with you? He is a true romantic at heart and while sometimes there’s a struggle to show it, the effort is there. Always expect good morning hugs, goodbye kisses, nighttime cuddles, weekend love-making, holiday fucking, literally anything and everything. He'll be a dead man before he stops worrying about the world so he'll love you like it's his last. Kisses you like he'll never kiss you again; a hand at the back of your head as his lips feverishly crash against yours. It's sloppy and loud with teeth and tongue, but he could care less. Go ahead, drool all over him if you want. He'll just wipe it off and just go in for another.

[gamesetart]

me when dilf!art breeding kink but im feeling horribly masc so the actual idea of pregnancy grosses me out - anyways i support transmasc breeding kinks guys

nsfw below the cut - reader is afab, one use of 'good boy' but other than that its very neutral. afab terms for reader's parts.

tags: breeding kink (sort of? they're not actually trying to get pregnant), cheating (sort of, tashi allows it. orchestrated it, actually), mentions of the arttashi marriage, overstimulation, the mildest of crying. technically an age gap (art in his early 30s, reader in 20s) but it never comes up.

his hips slot against yours like he was made to be there, made to press your knees to your chest, to fold you in half, to settle between your thighs and jackrabbit in and out of your cunt like he owns it, like there isn't even a person attached to the rest of it.

it's not the first time you've found yourself like this, praising his athleticism whilst cursing his absolutely unfair stamina. you've cum around him twice already - on his tongue, because art donaldson wouldn't dare try to fuck you stupid without coating his face in your spend, first, then on his fingers, a futile attempt to open you up for his cock. but nothing feels like enough prep for art, especially not when you're whining for him, telling him you want it to hurt, you don't care, you need him now.

"fuck," art groans, breath hot against the crook of your neck. "fuck, you're so fuckin' tight f'me, jesus, baby."

"don't bring him into this," you manage, nipping at his ear.

he huffs a laugh. even when he's like this, fucking you like a man posessed, snapping his hips into yours like he'll die outside of the sweet clench of your pussy, he manages to find lightness. you both do. it keeps things sweet, keeps them from slipping too far into uncharted territory. you have tashi's permission to let him ruin you as he pleases - tashi duncan knows all, and she's sanctioned your existence as the perfect outlet for all pf art's pent-up fantasies - but art doesn't want to be rough with you. not yet. he likes that he can hold you and feel strong, protective. likes that he can bend you in two and still kiss your temple. art likes that you can be sweet, soft, lovely.

"shhh, you can take it, baby," art soothes, and it's far too kind with the way he's fucking you. "doin' so well for me."

"art-" it's a warning as much as it is a plea.

he just nods, strokes your hair from your face, gentle as sin, and presses his forehead to yours.

"go on, babe, cum on my cock, c'mon, that's it, that's it-" and he feels it, the moment your walls clench around him, the fluttering of your cunt as a broken cry of his name falls from your lips. "oh, god, there you go."

he doesn't stop, though, barely even slows as he wipes a tear from your cheek and continues to slam his cock right into your overstimulated cunt. no amount of whining, of red scratches raked down his back, could have stopped him. you have a word, a signal. if you really couldn't take it, he'd know.

but you're his good boy, you'll take it, you always will. you might be the only one who can. you're the only one he wants, certainly. the only person he can fuck into like this.

"'s too much," you sob weakly, clawing at him with shaking hands. "art, please, can't-"

art just shushes you with a soft, quick kiss. "got one more f'me, don't ya? i know you do, know you can, baby, c'mon."

the tears fall freely, the press of his cock inside you so ridiculously filling you wonder if you'll split in half, if you'll simply die from the overstimulation. and then you think that'll be such an excellent way to go out, crying under him, safe between his strong arms.

art's right hand slips from where it rests on the back of your knee, holding you spread open. he hooks your leg over his shoulder, using the now-free hand to rub torturous circles on your clit. it burns, it's good, too good, white-hot sparks of pain crossing their wires with pleasure as you all but scream, sounds torn from your lungs in ways you didn't know you could make.

"c'mon, babe, wanna feel you cum around my cock before i pull out-"

your eyes go wide and you shake your head. no, not this time, wait, but the words don't come out.

"what, what's wrong?" art slows, pulling his hand from you. his blue eyes are doe-like with concern, eyebrows knit in the middle, lips settled into a familiar worried pout as he stares down at you.

you get a second to catch your breath. "in me," you gasp hoarsely. "inside. art. want you to cum in me. fill me up, please."

it's like something snaps.

there's a look on his face you can only liken to how he looks on the court: wild, fierce, a calculated cruelty he uses to systematically destroy whoever's on the other side of the net. and right now, a version of that look is fixed on you, a hungry glint in his eyes, pupils blown so wide you'd think his iries had vanished.

"fuck," he groans. "you want me to breed you, that it? fill up this pretty little pussy?"

and you moan, because neither of you are trying for a baby, not in the slightest, but the idea of being owned so thoroughly by art donaldson is enough to make you clench around him, fresh heat coiling in your core, and you could probably give him a hundred more orgasms, as long as he keeps talking to you like that.

"yeah, yeah, fuck me, art, 'til it takes, please," you babble, and maybe one day you'll start meaning it.

his pace begins anew, and this time, there's barely any rhythm to it. he's seeking release for himself now, too, for the first time since this has started, pulling out almost entirely before snapping back in so hard, you're sure you can feel it in your throat. deft fingers make rough circles on your clit, quick and dirty.

it pulls another orgasm from you faster than you'd like to admit. you don't even have time to warn him, but he can feel it in the way you tighten, your legs shaking, can hear it in the sharp note of your voice when you call his name.

"that's it, there you go," art groans. "gonna fill you right up, baby. 's what you want, right?"

you nod, so far past words, so far past anything more than lying there and taking it. but that's all he needs from you. his pace stutters.

"fuck, yes, you're so perfect, so good to me, you feel so good-" he's babbling now, grinding into you with all the grace and decorum of a fucking animal. "made for me, made for this cock, god, yes-"

and with a high keen of your name he's cumming, driving his hips into you, pushing his cock in as far as your cunt will allow, so far you're almost worried his sheer willpower is enough to override the birth control pill you're on. he stays there for a while, holds it in like he really is going to force it to take. and when he pulls out, his fingers push it back it sloppily.

art presses a soft kiss to your temple and all but collapses next to you with a sigh. when he catches his breath, you know he'll vanish to the bathroom, return with damp cloths and the bath running. he'll massage all your sore joints and rub oils into your skin and kiss every inch of you. but right now, he just needs to feel you. to lie next to you and try to memorise the pattern of your breathing.

"that was... something," you mumble, a soft smile playing at your tired lips.

"good something?" art asks.

"great."

"oh, thank god, because i really enjoyed that."

"so did i."

he kisses you again, on the lips. it's slow, sweet, drawn-out, as he weaves a hand into your hair and trails it down to draw circles on your shoulder. both of you know a child isn't in the cards right now, but your purpose here is to let art play pretend. you don't even actually want kids, it's just hot to think about making art a daddy again. tashi is the mother of his daughter, will be the mother of any of his future children. you, you're the outlet she hand-picked for all of art's needs, because while she can do everything, she won't let him fuck her the way he wants to fuck someone, and art doesn't want to fuck tashi the way he fucks you. you're okay with that. you like being someone he needs. someone he wants.

and who knows? maybe tashi will change her mind. maybe you will. maybe she'll let you have his next kid, and maybe you'll want it.

god knows art wants it. he'd let you. he'd give you anything. everything.

"thank you," he mumbles against your hair. "that was... i love you."

"i should be thanking you, i haven't cum thag much in one night in... ever."

you pause, tip your head up to meet his eyes. he's smiling, soft as silk, sweet as sugar. in the dying light of the sun, his hair looks like it's on fire, haloed by the sky itself. apollo incarnate come down from the heavens.

"i love you too," you say. and mean it.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Shutter 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Peter Parker

This AU is called Watcher Anonymous and will include different series for different characters. This is our introduction to Peter and Pipsqueak.

Summary: a community class brings together all sorts.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The community centre is a good place to waste time. After a particularly brutal break-up, it was Peter's only distraction. His only solace. He couldn't stay in that apartment he shared with MJ and working as a freelancer couldn't keep him busy if there's nothing going on.

It got even better when she showed up. Most of his students are seniors, looking for the same thing as him, a way to keep busy. She's younger but enthusiastic. While the others come once or twice a month, she's there every week.

That day, she walks in with Betsy. She always finds one of her classmates before she even gets there. She has her camera bag over her shoulder as she adjusts her thick-lensed glasses. They magnetize her irises and make the rest of her look even smaller. That's no great feat as she's tiny all over.

He welcomes each student as he always does, a smile, or a wave, a hello, or how are you. It's a bit awkward to teach people older than even his aunt, but it's more of a club than a class. There's a few new tag alongs; Jeffrey and Edith.

He goes over the focus for the week. There's lot of birds around and he asked them all to get some good snaps before migration season. There's a bit of technical difficulties as he helps them get their prints on the overhead or upload to the cloud from their SD cards. He always has to account for their varied skillset.

His attention strays from the blue jays and the cardinals to her. She sits with her legs twisted together, her eyes set on the large screen. Her glasses reflect the tint. When it comes her turn, she presents a hummingbird she proudly explains was lured to her balcony by her honey feeder. She adds that it's also against the rules but she doesn't care. She giggles and takes her seat again.

When the meeting comes to an end, the elders bluster about the traffic or bingo. It's only two in the afternoon but some are even on the way to dinner. As he waits for them to filter out, he shuts down his laptop.

"Um, excuse me, Mr. Parker," the warbly voice startles him. She stands across from him sheepishly. He almost laughs. No one calls him mister. "Um, I was hoping you could help me but if you're busy."

He's almost breathless. He's talked to her before. He talks to everyone but she's shier around the men in the class, even him.

"No, I don't have anywhere to be. What's going on?" He forces out, wondering if he sounds as nervous as he feels.

"Erm, okay," she moves her camera bag to the front of her. "I found this old camera at the thrift shop but um, I don't want to break it. I wanted to start using it..."

She pulls out the camera with the strap attached. He tilts his head as he examines it. He reaches for the compact device.

"May I?" He asks.

"Please," she hands it over. "I don't know if it's any good. It was ten bucks but... if it doesn't work I thought it would be a good ornament."

"Holy," he turns it over, "it's a Leica. That's... you know these go for a good penny on eBay. I restored a few myself..."

"Really?" She leans in and he almost loses feeling in his fingers. She's so close but doesn't seem to realise. Being so small, she probably doesn't think about it.

"Oh, sure," he plays with the shutter button. "I could have a look over and see if it's still in good condition. Do you mind if... I take it home?"

"Yeah, that would be--" she reaches for her bag again and finds her small blue wallet inside. "I could pay you--"

"What? No," he waves her off. "It's fun to me."

"Right, um..."

"I could have it done in like a day or two," he can barely hear himself over the thumping of his heart. Is he really going to ask? "Maybe we could meet up?"

"Oh, sure. I could... I could do that," she widens her eyes and they look even bigger.

"Okay... uh, maybe we could exchange numbers?"

"That sounds good," she bounces on her soles. "Let me just..." she takes out her phone in its butterfly case, "what's yours? I'll send you a message."

He recites the numbers, his tongue sticking as he focus on getting every digit right. She smiles and taps the screen triumphantly.

"There, uh, okay, you hold onto that," she sticks up a spindly finger, "and I will wait patiently for your phone call!"

"Sure, cool, yeah," he stammers, fighting his own excitement. He takes out his phone. "I'll save your number now."

"Have a good one, Mr. Parker," she gives a little hop. "I gotta go get my train."

'Guess who just got her number!'

She flits out right as he says "you two" missing the "sweetheart" at the end. He stares at the door then slowly peeks down at his phone. He adds her to his contacts then flips over to the discord chat. He smirks as he keys in his message.

A rolling eye emoji comes from Bucky and Thor sends a celebrating one. Curtis gives a thumb up and several others see the message.

'Did you get it or steal it?' Jake snarks.

Peter sneers and blacks the screen. He's not arguing with those idiots again. They're just jealous.

[punkrockmlchael]

I can see Eddie having a crush on Wednesday Addams as a kid & that crush eventually goes to him falling in love with Morticia when he gets older. So imagine one day when him & reader are getting ready for some sort of event & reader wears a long black dress & has their hair down and Eddie just has an 'oh shit!' moment where he realizes that he's dating his fictional crush

I love this so much, okay? Your mind, as always, is just amazing, absolutely and truly amazing. (Word Count: 598)

"Darling, are you ready to go to the Award's Show yet?" Eddie asked, straightening his tie in the mirror. Corroded Coffin had taken off and they were invited to their first Music Award's Show. Eddie was just as excited to walk the red carpet with his band as he was to show you off to the paparazzi and fans.

"Baby girl, come on, we're going to be late," Eddie whined, making sure his tie was straight for the hundredth time in the past five minutes. He turned towards the bathroom attached to your bedroom as you smiled and made your way into the bedroom, fixing the sleeves of your long, black dress.

You fluffed up your hair, tossing it over your shoulders as you walked towards the bed. You took a seat on the soft bed carefully, strapping your black heels onto you feet as Eddie stared at you. He watched your every move, eyes lingering over your body as you stood up and walked towards him.

You smiled at him, stopping in front of him. You straightened his tie for real (because let's be real, it doesn't matter how hard he tries, he can never get that tie straight; bless his heart for trying) and looked up at him. "What?" You asked, feeling his eye roaming all over your body. "Do you not like my dress?" You asked softly, taking a step back from him slightly.

Eddie shook his head, looking at your face. "What? No, uh, actually, quit the opposite. I, uh," he said, looking at you. "Where did you get that dress?"

"The store?" You replied, looking at him. "Is there something wrong with it?"

"No! What? You look so hot, you look so perfect, oh my god, you look like Morticia Addams. Fuck, that dress looks.. so good on you.."

"From the Addam's Family?" You snorted a laugh, looking at Eddie. "Yeah?" You asked, looking at yourself in the mirror. “Huh, I guess it does. It’s a simple black dress with sleeves,” you shrugged.

“Simple black dress with sleeves? No, it’s beyond that. It makes your figure look amazing, fuck, look at your curves. And, your hair like that? Fucking hell, baby girl, you look.. so good.” Eddie said, walking towards you. He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and kissed your neck softly, looking at you through the mirror. You giggled and tilted your head to the side slightly, looking at him through the mirror.

“Got a crush on me, Gomez?” You teased, placing your hands on top of his.

He hummed against your neck, looking at you. “Look, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to fuck my fictional crush but, tonight might be a different story.”

“Oh? You think you’re getting something tonight?” You giggled, looking at him.

“Well, we don’t have time now,” he whined against your neck, his grip tightening around you. You glanced at the clock and giggled.

“We have time for a quick makeout session. The boys are picking us up in 15 minutes," you said softly, looking at Eddie.

"Oh, baby girl, you don't have to tell me twice."

And with that you were pushed up against the wall, Eddie's hands roaming all over your body feeling you up in that black dress. His lips moved from your neck to your lips, kissing you desperately as he was grinding against you.

"Are you sure we don't have time for a quckie?" He begged, kissing at your lips with soft bites and nibbles.

"Mm," you hummed softly, "we might be able to squeeze it in..."