#whatever honestly. like i genuinely can't do this i give up

[oceanmoss]

whatever fr. mom would want me doing 828373373737 things for her from abroad with a shitty internet and one billion other responsibilities . and then when i don't do hers bc i can barely get myself out of bed her reply is always "well ure going everywhere and hanging out with people all the time and having so much fun all the time it's about time you learn some responsibility" like are you fucking kidding me?????? i feel 60 years old bc of u i literally can't act silly for one second or the whole world will hunt me and kill me. besides SHE is the most irresponsible person on EARTH. so ???????

[lyssafreyguy]

God . . . imagine thinking Laios is a bad person who doesn't care about people. actual insanity.

[snekdood]

so much of my past art is such a love letter to humanity and yet they keep betraying me and wonder why I hate them so much now

[rinkkuma]

୨୧ JJK BOYS V.S. PLUSHIES

ft. satoru gojo, yuta okkotsu, suguru geto, yuuji itadori, & megumi fushiguro

tags. gn!reader, all fluff ! what will they do when you have plushies on your bed… / author's note. these are all lowk the same just variants im sorry i #hadnomoreideas

SATORU fights every urge in his body to not punch, throw, or kick your plushies off your bed. seeing them makes him mad. the word plushies makes him want to scream, he can't even control himself. like, they get to sleep with you every night?! he hates strongly dislikes whenever you get a new plushie and show it off to him. once you leave your room, oh boy, he is punching all of your plushies one by one. and not even a light punch; he is punching as hard as he can. (in the face, mind you) he gets a little carried away, unknowingly being loud as hell, and is laughing a little. you are confused and a little worried, so you decide to go check on satoru.. and what a scene you walked into! all of your plushies are now on the ground, with the sole survivor being your favorite, still on the bed. satoru has your favorite plushie in a chokehold while he blabs about how it'll regret even being made and gives it another punch with his other hand. he hasn't noticed your presence yet due to the heat of the moment, but when he does, he awkwardly drops your plush and looks at you like nothing had happened. you burst out laughing while he mumbles how he was just “fluffing them up”.

YUTA doesn't mind them at all. after all, he also has plushies to help him sleep at night, and he adored you ten times more once he found out that you did too. one day, the two of you have a sleepover, and he brings all of his plushies over.. oh boy! the moment he showed up at your front door with bags and bags of plushies, your jaw dropped. (there was one even balanced on top of his head) yuta was honestly more of a plushie addict than you. when he laid out his plushies on your bed, it was filled. wherever you laid, you would squish a few plushies. despite all the plushies, the two of you end up cuddling each other anyway. (half of them had fallen off the bed by the end of the night)

SUGURU is genuinely not bothered by your plushies. they're inanimate objects; why would he be bothered? they're cute, and he can count on them to help you sleep at night when he's not present. he also likes to buy you more plushies because of the way your face lights up when you see them, he can't get enough. every morning, after (the majority) of your plushies have fallen off the bed, he tenderly helps you arrange them back in their place. suguru even begins to give each one of your plushies a name (if you didn't already name them) and a little backstory. his personal favorite is a pair of plushies that reminds him of you and him.

YUUJI has mixed feelings about your plushies. yes, they're cute, but sometimes, when he sees you cuddling one, he wants to snatch it and replace it with himself. over time, he notices how you're always holding or cuddling the same plushie. sure, everyone has their favorites, but you have other ones, so why not switch them up every once in awhile? he decides to ask you why one day, and when you respond that it simply reminded you of him, he nearly passes out. he was hyperventilating, screaming, and everything in between. from that day on, yuuji has loved your plushies and even bought you variants of whatever plushie you said that looked like him.

MEGUMI tries to convince himself that he does not care about your plushies. they're cute and all, but he can't help but feel jealous of them. sometimes. whenever he has to be out and about, you send pictures to him throughout the day, and sometimes your plushie is sneaked into the photo at your side, and he can't help but feel annoyed. that plushie could've been him, but gojo had unfortunately dragged him out that day. he mentally groans as he types out a response, trying to sound as nice as he can. at first typing, “get that stupid plush away from you rn” before hastily deleting it and just sending, “pretty”. after megumi gets dragged around by gojo (yuuji and nobara magically appeared too) for six hours, he can finally go home. when he walks in, you're on the couch watching whatever random movie you had turned on out of boredom, and that stupid plushie is still by your side. he walks a little closer, and you're literally hugging it. megumi sighs before walking up next to your seat and gently snatching the plushie out of your hold before sitting down next to you and pulling you into his arms.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Coffee Crossfire: Part 2

Fandom: Marvel (Mob Boss AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: You own a cafe in Brooklyn, Bucky Barnes’ territory. You occasionally let him hold meetings in the cafe after hours and things usually go well….but not this time.

Part 1

Your anger and frustration towards Bucky fizzled out after two days. You knew that it really wasn't his fault the cafe got shot up. He told you firsthand when you bought the property of the risks of having a business in his territory. But he always reassured you that whatever damage happens, he'd take care of it.

Like a true mob boss, he kept his word.

Even with his busy schedule, he came in every day to help oversee the work that was being done. He wasn't much help though. You'd tell his men what to do, what goes where, how things should look, etc. He just pays for everything.

However, when some of the new tables and chairs came in, you put Bucky to work.

While everyone was working in the front, you and Bucky assembled the furniture towards the back of the cafe. Bucky looked at the instructions and let out a breath of relief, "Thank god these have written out instructions. Not like other instructions where it's all pictures. Shit gets confusing."

You snicker as you lay out the pieces by their labelled sticker, "Honestly, these shouldn't be too hard to do. They're similar to the ones I had before."

"Ready when you are, boss," Bucky says with a smile.

You snort, "Never thought I'd hear you call anyone else 'boss'."

He shrugs, "You're the only one I'll listen to, sugar," he gives you a wink and you look away as your cheeks start to heat up.

You can't deny that Bucky is attractive, funny, and charming. He's also sweet and intimidating, but also caring. Sure what he does isn't lawful in any means, however, he cares for everyone in his family's territory. He knows everyone by name, helps them when they ask, and make sure everyone's protected and safe.

You told yourself when you first met him not get close to him, but years later, you know you're more than close to Bucky. You two are attached to the hip. At first, you considered him as a friend, but in the most recent years, you've started to see him as more. That scares you a little.

You moved to Brooklyn to get away from those feelings and here you are, right back to where you were. All because of Bucky Barnes.

You love him. You know you truly do, you're just not sure if he feels the same. Sure he flirts with you, but he doesn't mean it. You've seen him flirt with a bunch of other people too, so it definitely doesn't mean anything when he flirts with you.

"Sugar, gimme a hand?" he breaks you from your thoughts.

"Sure," you move closer to him, "What do you need?"

"Just hold these two pieces together while I screw this in."

"M'kay," you hold to pieces of a chair together, and Bucky twists the screwdriver to secure them in place. Your face is close to his, you smell the coffee on his breath and his expensive cologne. You see the bags under his eyes and it makes you frown.

"There. Than-what's with the frown?"

"You haven't been sleeping well," when he looks at you confused, you point to his face, "the bags under your eyes. Bucky, you should be at home resting, not spending early mornings with me here."

"It's fine, sugar."

"No, it's not. You should be well rested because you have a lot of work to do-"

"And they're getting done, just not all by me. Things are getting handled, Y/N, don't worry. I wanna be here."

"Why? Nothing much for you to do here. Your guys have it covered."

He shrugs, "Just in case you need me or," he gestures to the furniture pieces, "need someone to help you build furniture." He smiles when you giggle. His heart flutters, "I'll be here every day until you tell me to fuck off."

"But why?" you genuinely ask him in curiosity.

He looks away from you and at the half-assembled chair in front of him, "Because I do what I can for the people I love." He then clears his throat and goes back to assembling the chair.

You stare at him in disbelief. He loves you. Bucky Barnes just said he loves you. He-

Bucky's phone starts ringing and he answers it. He hugs it between his ear and his shoulder as he screws in another piece of the chair, "Yeah?" He listens to the caller and lets out a long sigh, "Alright. I'll be over in a bit. Keep 'em awake. Bye."

You look at him with concern, "Everything okay?"

"Got more info on the guys who shot us up. Need to meet with Romanoff." Bucky grunts as he stands, pocketing his phone. His runs a hand through his brunette locks, "If you're still here when I'm done, I'll come back. Maybe I can get you some food since I know you don't eat when you get too busy."

You stand, meeting his gaze, a soft smile on your lips. Bucky knows you so well and you can't believe its taken you this long to see how he truly feels.

"Bucky?"

"Yeah?"

You lean in, pressing your lips to his in a gentle kiss. He's frozen in place and by the time he registers what's happening, you pull away, "I love you. Thank you for always taking care of me and being there for me."

"I, uh-" his face starts turning pink, "Ye-Yeah. Of course, sugar. I-shit." He hides his face in his hands and you can't help but laugh. You've turned The White Wolf of Brooklyn into blubbering, blushing mess.

He drops his hands from his face and he's smiling wide, "You love me? Really?"

"I do. I've loved you for a long time. I-I always hoped you felt the same. I thought you did with the flirting and how you were always there for me. But I'd see you do the same with others so I figured-"

He shakes his head, "No, sugar. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was so confusing. I-shit, Y/N, everything I do and say is because I love you. I love you so fucking much. I'd burn the world for you," he steps closer, placing his hands on your hips, nose grazing yours.

"For a big scary mobster, you're quite the softie, aren't you?"

"Don't let the guys know. It'd ruin my reputation," he murmurs, leaning in for another kiss.

"It's fine. We already know," Steve says as he stands there with his arms across his chest and a smirk on his face.

Bucky frowns, "Way to ruin the mood, Rogers."

Steve shrugs, "Sorry, but we have some important stuff to attend to."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Bucky steps away with a pout, "Sugar-"

You pull him back in for a kiss and he's quick to kiss you back this time. You then break the kiss with a grin, "Go take care of business, boss."

Bucky is a little dizzy and has a goofy grin on his face, "You got it, boss." He pecks your lips one last time and then steps away, "Got another reason to call you sugar now."

"Yeah?"

He nods, "'Cause your lips taste so sweet," he says with a wink and follows Steve out of the cafe.

You're not sure how you can get back to work after that kiss and confession. But you'll have to do your best!

[thegalleonsnest]

OK since I haven't seen too many people talk about this since twitter news usually strikes pretty fast over here whenever e'usk does anything ever, let me give ya'll the run down on two things that will go live on NOVEMBER 15TH and why people are mass migrating to Blue Sky once more; and provide resources to help protect your art and make the transition to Blue Sky easier if you so choose:

The Block function no longer blocks people as intended. It now basically acts as a glorified Mute button. Even when you block someone, they can still see your posts, but they can't engage in them. If your account is a Public one and not a Private one, people you blocked will see your posts.

They say because people can easily "share and hide harmful or private information about those they've blocked," they changed it this way for "greater transparency." When in reality, this is an extremely dangerous change, as the whole point of blocking is to cease interaction with people entirely for a plethora of reasons, i.e. stalking, harassment, spam, endangerment, or just plainly annoying and not wanting to see said tweets/accounts. or you know, for 18+ accounts who do not want minors interacting with them or their material at all (There is speculation saying these changes are specifically for Elon himself so he can do his own kind of stalking, and honestly, with the private likes change, it lowkey checks out in my opinion)

Also, this straight up goes against and may violate Apple and Google's app store policies and also is straight up illegal in Canada and probably other countries as well.

If this ACTUALLY goes through, twitter will only be available in select countries, probably exclusively in the US, which would collapse the site with the lost of users and stock, and probably be the last push it needs to kill the site. And if not, will be a very sad and exclusive platform made for specific kinds of people who line up with musk's line of thinking.

2. New policies regarding Grok AI and basically removing the option to opt out of Grok's information gathering to improve their software.

And anything you upload/post on the site is considered "fair game" with "royalty-free licenses" and they can do whatever they please with it. Primarily using any and all posts on twitter to train their Grok AI. A few months ago, there was a setting you can opt out of so they couldn't take anything you post to "improve" Grok, but I guess because so many people were opting out, they decided to make it mandatory as part of the policy change (This is mainly speculation from what I hear).

So this is considered the final straw for a LOT of people, especially artists who have been gripping on to twitter for as long as they can, but the AI nonsense is too much for people now, including myself. Lot's of people are moving to Blue Sky for good reason, and from personal experience, it is literally 10x better than twitter ever was, even before elon took over. There is no algorithm on there, and you can save "feeds" to your timeline to have a catered timelines to hop between if your looking for something specific like furry art or game dev stuff. It's taken them a bit to get off the ground and add much needed features, but it's genuinely so much better now

RESOURCES

Project Glaze & Cara

If you're an artist who's still on twitter or trying to ride it out for as long as you can for whatever reason you have, do yourself a favor and Glaze and/or Nightshade your work. Project Glaze is a free program designed to protect your art work from getting scrapped by AI machines. Glazing basically makes it harder to adapt and copy artwork that AI programs try to scan, while Nightshade basically "poisons" works to make AI libraries much more unstable and generate images completely off the mark. (These are layman's terms I'm using here, but follow the link to get more information)

The only problem with these programs is that they can be resource intensive for computers, and not every pc can run glaze. It's basically like rendering a frame/animation, you gotta let your pc sit there to get it glazed/nightshade, and depending on the intensity and power of your pc, this may take minutes to hours depending on how much you wanna protect your work.

HOWEVER, there are two alternatives, WebGlaze and Cara

WebGlaze is an in browser version of the program, so your pc doesn't have to do the heavy lifting. You do need to have an account with Glaze and be invited to use the program (I have not done so personally so I don't know much about the process.)

Cara is an artist focused site that doubles as both a portfolio site and a general social media platform. They've partnered with Glaze and have their own browser glazing called "Cara Glaze," and highly encourage users to post their work Glazed and are extremely anti-ai. You do get limited uses per day to glaze your work, so if you plan on doing a huge backlog uploading of your art, it may take awhile if your using just Cara Glaze.

Some twitter users have suggested glazing your art, cropping it, and overlaying it with a frame telling people to follow them elsewhere like on Bluesky. Here's a template someone provided if you wanna use this one or make your own.

Blue Sky Resources and Tips

So if your a twitter user and your about to realize the hellish task of refollowing a massive chunk of people you follow, have no fear, there's an extension called Sky Follower Bridge (Firefox & Chrome links). This is a very basic extension that makes it really easy to find people on Bluesky

It sorts them out by trying to find matching usernames, usernames in descriptions, or by screen name. It's not 100% perfect, there's a couple people I already follow on Blue Sky but the extension could not find them on twitter correctly, but I still found a huge chunk of people. Also if your worried that this extension is "iffy," they do have a github open with the source publicly available and the Blue Sky Team themselves have promoted the extension in their recent posts while welcoming new users to the platform.

FEEDS and LABELS

OK SO THE COOLEST PART ABOUT BLUESKY IS THE FEEDS SYSTEM. Basically if you've made a twitter list before, it's like that, but way more customizable and caters to specific types of posts/topics. Consolidating them into a timeline/feed that exclusively filled about those particular topics, or just people in general. There's thousands to pick and choose from!

Here's a couple of mine that I have saved and ready (down below). Some feeds I have saved so I can jump to seeing what my friends and mutuals are up to, and see their posts specifically so it doesn't get lost in reposts or other accounts, and also specialized feeds for browsing artists within the furry community.

The Furry Community feeds I have here were created by people who've built an algorithm to place any #furry or #furryart or other special tags like #Furrystreamer or #furrydev. They even have one for commissions, and yes you can say commissions on a post and not have it destroyed or shadow banned. You are safe.

If you want, and I highly recommend it to get visibility and check out a neat community, follow furryli.st to get added to their list and feeds. Once your on the list, even without a hashtag, you'll still pop up in their specialized feeds as just a member of the community there. There are plenty of other feeds out there besides this one, but I feel like a lot of people could use one like this. They even got ones for OC specific too I remember seeing somewhere.

And in terms of labels, they can be either ways to help label yourself with specific things or have user created accessibility settings to help better control your experience on Blue Sky.

And my personal favorite: Ai Imagery Labeler. Removes any AI stuff or hides it to the best of it's abilities, and it does a pretty good job, I have not seen anything AI related since subscribing to it.

Finally, HASHTAGS WORK & No need to censor yourself!

This is NOT like twitter or any other big named social media site AT ALL, so you don't have to work around words to get your stuff out there and be seen. There are literally feeds built around having commissions getting and art seen! Some people worry about bots and that has been a recent issue since a lot of people are migrating to Blue Sky, but it comes with any social media territory.

ALSO COOL PART,

you can search a hashtag on someone's profile and search exclusively on that profile as well! You can even put the hashtag in bio for easy access if you have a specialize tag like here on tumblr. OR EVEN BUILD YOUR OWN ART FEED FOR YOUR STUFF SPECIFICALLY!

So yeah, there's your quick run down about twitter's current burning building, how to protect your art, and what to do when you move to Blue Sky! Have fun!

[azziesbattybaddie]

You are my survival

Azriel x reader

You and Azriel are mates. Az knows it, you don't, that is until a particularly hard training session when the truth finally come out.

Word count: 5k

Requested: no

Warnings: fem reader, shadow play, smut, swearing, choking kink, praise, Azriel's wingspan, oral F and M receiving, Az is a Dom, PinV, we die like men

🔥 means smut will follow

Authors note: this is the first WIP I've finished in like 2 or 3 years so be gentle on me I also wrote this with one of my friends on discord and she is absolutely amazing, constructive criticism is welcome and plz let me know if I missed any tags. Enjoy!

"Pay attention."

His words weren't harsh by any means. No, Azriel would never raise his voice at you, but he'd be lying if he said training you was easy. He watched as you breathed heavily, body glistening with sweat. You'd been at this for hours. Clearly, you'd underestimated just how difficult swordplay was.

"I'm trying my best"

He let out a small chuckle, watching your brows furrow with frustration as he managed to point his sword at your neck, Again.

"Gotcha."

"dammit!"

You threw your sword down in frustration and slinked over to the corner of the ring. Before hugging your knees to your chest and sulking.

"I'm done, I'm quit!"

Sheathing his sword, Azriel approached you slowly, his footsteps silent on the straw-covered floor. He stopped a few feet away, giving you space but close enough to offer comfort.

"Hey, hey now," he murmured softly.

"Don't give up just yet."

He hesitated for a moment before sitting down beside you, keeping a respectful distance.

"Training is hard, y/n. It's supposed to push you, make you stronger. It's okay to feel frustrated, but don't let it consume you."

He glanced at you, his eyes reflecting genuine concern.

"You're doing better than you think. You've improved so much since we started. It's just... progress takes time. And patience." He offered you a small, encouraging smile.

"And maybe some water? You've been at it all day."

"yeah well maybe I should train with someone else because your a thousand times better than me and you have 400 years of experience on me so even if I am getting better your skill just dwarfs mine..."

Azriel looked at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. He had expected such a reaction from you, and he couldn't say that he blamed you either.

"You underestimate yourself," he told you gently, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"It may take time, but you will get there. Just keep practicing and if you can't believe in yourself, believe in the fact that I'm starting to feel your progress in your punches." As always tried to joke with you slightly but seeing as he got nothing but a half earned smile he let himself fall quiet.

He sighed deeply, his gaze drifting down to his scarred hands fiddling with them idly. There were things he wanted to tell you, things he wanted to share about his past, but he knew you weren't ready for them yet. Maybe one day, when you were strong enough, he could tell you everything.

Following his gaze, you watched as he picked at his nails and cuticles. You had known Az for a few hundred years now and as long as you had known him he had never shared the story of his warped skin and you had never worked up the courage to ask, that was until now.

"can I ask you a question without you getting upset? You can tell me to screw off if you don't want to answer, I won't push." You said in a timid, whispered voice. Azriel turned to look at you, his expression curious.

"Of course, y/n. What is it?"

He kept his tone calm and non-threatening, not wanting to scare you off. Whatever it was, he would do his best to answer honestly.

"what happened to your hands?"

Azriel's expression softened, and he looked down at his hands, his fingers curling slightly as he remembered.

"My hands... They were burned by-" he let out a heavy sigh, flexing his hands under your gaze before continuing.

"they were burned by my brothers, many years ago. I was born a bastard like Cassian so I was treated differently, even by my so-called family. They it left me with these scars."

He lifted his hands, showing you the intricate network of burn scars that covered his palms and fingers. They were a constant reminder of his past, a painful chapter he would rather forget.

"what brings that question to mind?"

you reach to grab his hand but hesitated before touching him.

"I just always wondered if they were painful they still look painful..."He noticed your hesitation and gave you a reassuring nod, encouraging you to continue.

"It doesn't hurt anymore, physically at least. But sometimes, the memories can still be quite painful." He lowered his hands, his gaze returning to yours staying quiet for a beat.

"It's alright, y/n. You won't hurt me by touching them. I won't bite or as Cass would say 'i won't bite unless you want me too'" he says with a half honest grin trying to lift the mood slightly.

He held out his hand, palm facing up, waiting for you to make the first move. He wanted to show you that he trusted you, that he was comfortable with you touching him. "Go ahead, y/n."

you gingerly brushed your fingers over his scarred hand before taking one of his hands in both of your running your thumbs over the back before smile and saying softly

"They always looked soft still..."

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he felt his face heat slightly at the praise. He never wanted to feel anything other than your gentle touch on his scarred hand.

"Because of the burns, my skin never calloused so yeah I guess they are."

He turned his hand over, intertwining his fingers with yours. The warmth of your touch seeped into his skin, soothing the old wounds in ways he hadn't experienced in centuries.

"I never associated touch with comfort before. It feels like home." ' you feel like home' is what he would have said if he had the nerve but kept that thought to himself, thinking it to cheesey to say out loud.

His thumb stroked the back of your hand, a tender gesture that spoke volumes about the unspoken bond between you two. In that moment, the weight of his secrets and the darkness of his past seemed to fade away, replaced by a simple, pure connection with you.

you lifted your head to look at him only to find him already looking at you, your faces close enough to feel each others baited breaths.

Azriel's gaze locked onto yours, his heart pounding against his ribcage like a wild drum. The intensity of your stare was almost overwhelming, stirring feelings within him that he thought long buried.

He leaned closer, his lips inches away from yours. He could smell your scent, a mix of sweat and something uniquely you. It was intoxicating, making his pulse race and his resolve weaken.

For a moment, he considered closing the gap, pressing his lips against yours and losing himself in the warmth of your embrace. But he pulled back, breaking eye contact, reminding himself of the danger in such actions.

without thinking of the consequences of your actions you shot your hand out to cradle the side of his face turning him back to look at you and meet him with pleading look, begging him not to turn away.

Azriel's breath caught in his throat as he felt your hand cup his cheek, turning his face back towards you. He met your pleading gaze, his own eyes filled with a mix of longing and fear.

He wanted nothing more than to surrender to the desire burning within him, to lose himself in your embrace and forget about his past, his fears, and his responsibilities. But he knew he couldn't. Not yet, at least.

With a heavy sigh, he gently removed your hand from his face, his fingertips trailing along your skin as he did so.

"y/n, we can't," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"I care for you too much to risk putting you in danger. We need to focus on our training, on becoming stronger, you need to be ready for when hyburn attacks."

your pout deepened as you moved back slowly pulling your hand away from his reluctantly as you bit your lip trying to think of something to say to make him change his mind.

"Az we can still train and I've been getting stronger for years, why can't we just," you trail off, not knowing that words for the feeling you felt for him.

Azriel's chest tightened at your pout, a pang of guilt slicing through him as he cut you off. He hated seeing you upset, especially over something he had done.

"It's not because I don't want to," he assured you, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

"It's because I care about you too much. If I give in to these feelings now, it might lead to something neither of us is prepared for, not with so much at stake with war coming."

He paused, his gaze dropping to your lips before lifting back to meet your eyes.

"We're mates. I've known for a while but even though we were designed for each other. And right now with hyburn threatening to breach our borders, our lives and decisions can't be about love or passion-it's about survival"

you pull his face back to you for a last time before running the pads of your thumbs over his cheeks lovingly

"I know that az, but you are my survival. you said it yourself that your my mate, do you really think that I can live without my mate, without you?" You plead tears starting to form in your eyes.

The words hit him like a physical blow, leaving him momentarily speechless. Your admission cut straight to the core of his being, striking a chord within him that resonated with a depth of longing he didn't fully understand.

"You need my love..." he echoed, the words sounding foreign even to his ears. He'd never been loved, let alone needed. The idea was both terrifying and exhilarating.

"I... I don't know if I can give you that. I've never been loved, and I've never loved anyone the way I think I should. you deserve all the love there is in this world, and I don't think I can give you that."

His voice cracked with emotion, betraying the turmoil of feelings welling up inside him.

"you can,"

You step closer still holding his face you pull a hand away to grab his scarred one and place it on your waist and putting your hand on his chest over his heart gingerly.

"You have so much love in your heart that you can't help but let it spill over. You try to act so cold and calloused to everyone but we all feel you how much you love us. "

At your touch, Azriel felt a surge of emotion course through him, his heart pounding wildly against your palm. He stared down at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of deception or manipulation, but found only sincerity and vulnerability.

"You really believe that, don't you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"That I have love to give?"

He hesitated for a moment, then placed his other hand tentatively on your waist. The warmth of your body seeped into his chilled skin, melting some of the ice that had encased his heart for so long.

"I want to believe it," he admitted, his gaze dropping to your lips once more.

"But I'm afraid of putting you in a dangerous situation that you never need to be in. Afraid of losing control and doing something that could harm you. We both know that my work is extremely dangerous and if you got pulled into that I would never fucking forgive myself"

"Azriel... Your the bravest male I've ever met, please don't stop being brave." You take a final step faces inches apart

Azriel's breath hitched as you closed the remaining distance between you, your bodies nearly touching. He could feel the heat radiating off you, drawing him in like a moth to flame.

"Brave doesn't mean fearless, y/n," he said, his voice low and husky.

"Sometimes bravery means facing your deepest fears, even when every instinct tells you to run." You whisper gingerly brushing you fingers over his leathers laying over his heart.

He reached up, his fingers curling around the nape of your neck as he tilted your head back slightly. His thumb brushed against your lower lip, sending shivers down your spine.

"I'm just scared of failing you, of not being able to protect you. But I'm also scared of missing this chance, of letting my fears hold me back from trying to give us the life the cauldron has laid out for us."

"Then don't let your fears hold you back Az, let me hold them instead." You hold his hand over your cheek and guide his thumb over your lip again gently.

Azriel's resistance crumbled under your gentle guidance, his thumb gliding over your soft, plump lips with a tenderness that surprised even him. He leaned in closer, his nose brushing against yours as he savored the scent of your skin, the warmth of your breath.

"cauldron..." he murmured, his voice thick with longing.

he closed the final inch of distance, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was both tentative and desperate, holding your sides as delicately as fine china.

🔥🔥🔥

you surge you hand up to tangle in his hair and let out an audible cry of relief into his mouth.

Azriel groaned softly into the kiss as your hand tangled in his hair, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure through him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his body as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping across your lips to explore the warm cavern of your mouth.

As he kissed you, Azriel felt a weight lift from his shoulders, a burden he hadn't realized he carried until it was gone. In your embrace, he found a sense of peace, of belonging, that he had never known before.

Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against yours, panting lightly as he struggled to catch his breath. "Y/n, I've wanted this for so long," he confessed, his voice rough with emotion.

"Wanted to hold you, touch you, taste you now."

"then don't fucking stop now." You practically begged, chasing his lips.

Your impassioned plea sent a jolt of desire through Azriel, his grip on you tightening as he ground his hips against yours, the hard length of his arousal pressing insistently against your belly.

"Oh, god, baby," he gasped, his breath hot against your skin.

"I won't stop, not now, not ever again." His hands trailing down to your ass, gently kneading the flesh under your fighting leathers.

"You're mine, and I'm going to fuck you so hard, make you scream my name until you forget everyone else exists."With that declaration, Azriel swept you up into his arms and winnowed you back to the house of wind before.

carrying you towards his bedroom as he devoured your mouth in a frenzy of kisses, his hands roaming your curves with a hunger that bordered on desperation. your legs wrap around his waist as he carries you and you press your breasts against his chest, mewl desperately against his lips.

The sound of your moans vibrating against his lips was music to Azriel's ears, fueling his already raging desire. He kicked open the door to his bedroom, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity as he laid you down onto the plush mattress.

"Gods, babygirl," he growled, his hands tracing the outline of your curves as he knelt beside you, his eyes devouring every inch of your exposed flesh. "You're so beautiful, so perfect..."

Without another word, he began to undress you, peeling away each layer of your leathers with a reverence that belied his usual cool demeanor. As he revealed your skin to his hungry gaze, he marveled at the sight, at the swell of your breasts, the curve of your hips, the sweet dip of your navel.

"And you smell divine,"

Azriel couldn't help but lean down, his tongue darting out to trace a path along the delicate line of your collarbone, savoring the taste of your skin. He licked and nibbled his way down your body, pausing to lavish attention on each breast, his tongue swirling around your nipples before taking them into his mouth, sucking gently.

His hands weren't idle either, slipping down to cup your ass, squeezing the firm flesh as he continued his descent. His shadows hooked around the sides of your panties, dragging them down your thighs with a teasing slowness that left you squirming beneath him.

"Tell me what you want, baby," he whispered against your skin, his voice a husky murmur.

"What do you crave? Tell me how to make you come undone?"

you reached down to Palm the tent in his fighting leathers at the words and using your other hand to wrap the scared flesh of his hand around your throat.

"I want you to use me, own me Azriel."

At your command, Azriel's heart pounded with a wild rhythm, his cock throbbing in your grasp. He allowed you to control his movements, his hand tightening around your throat in a gesture that was both possessive and protective while one of his larger shadows gently brushed against the side of your face in stark contrast.

"You're mine now, babygirl," he breathed, his voice laced with raw need.

"And I plan to worship every gods-damned inch of you."

With that promise, he slid down further, his lips trailing kisses along your inner thigh, his breath hot against your sensitive flesh. He paused just above where you needed him most, his eyes locking with yours as he teased you mercilessly.

"Do you want more?" he asked, his voice a seductive whisper. "Do you want my mouth on you, tasting you?"

"gods yes please!" You hold his hand tightly around his throat encouraging him to squeeze harder what you arch your back of the bed in hopes of inching your cunt closer to his mouth.

Azriel's grip around your throat tightened slightly at your eager response, his thumb applying just enough pressure to send a thrill of excitement through you. With a low growl, he finally gave in to your pleas, his mouth descending upon your dripping folds.

He lavished your pussy with attention, his tongue delving deep inside you as he fucked you with slow, deliberate strokes while flicks of dark swirl around your clit. He explored every inch of your sex, savoring the taste of your arousal, the feel of your slick walls clenching around his tongue.

As he ate you out, Azriel's free hand roamed your body, palming your breasts, pinching your nipples, leaving trails of fire and cold in its wake. He could feel your climax building, could taste your sweet submission on his tongue, and it only fueled his own desire.

"come on babygirl, ride my face while you come."

He brought one of your hands to tangle in his hair and wrapped his arms around the tops of your thighs encouraging you to buck into his tongue.

Your hips bucked off the bed as you came hard on his tongue, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave, your juices flowing freely as you cried out his name, your fingers tangling in his hair, holding him close.

Azriel drank in your release, his tongue lapping up every drop of your essence as he savored the taste of your pleasure. He held you tight, his mouth never leaving your pussy as you rode out the waves of your orgasm, your cries of ecstasy music to his ears.

Only when you finally went limp did he release you, his face glistening with your arousal. He crawled up your body, his chocolate eyes blazing with a fierce possessiveness as he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss.

"Now it's my turn," he growled against your lips, his hands tearing at his leathers to free his straining cock.

"Get on your knees, baby, I want to fuck that pretty mouth of yours."

You eagerly roll onto your stomach and push yourself off the bed and onto your knees Infront of him batting your lashes and staring up at him with lust filled eyes.

Azriel watched you move, his heart pounding with a mix of desire and admiration. Your eagerness was intoxicating, fueling his own need even further. He discarded his leathers completely, revealing his veined cock, throbbing with need.

Azriel's breath caught in his throat at the sight of you kneeling before him, your eyes filled with hunger and desire. He ran a hand through your disheveled hair, his fingers tangling in your locks as he guided your head towards his aching cock.

"Open wide, love," *he murmured, his voice thick with need.

"Show me how much you need me."

you took him into your mouth, Azriel let out a low groan, his hips bucking involuntarily. Your warm, wet mouth felt like heaven, and he had to fight the urge to thrust too hard, too fast. Instead, he set a steady pace, his hands guiding your head as you sucked the tip every time he pulled out.

"Fuck, good girl," he gasped, his grip tightening in your hair. "You fucking feel incredible..."You moaned softly as you took him deeper into your mouth working your tongue over his cock, your hands reaching up to cup his balls as you continue to suckle on his cock.

The sensation of your tongue working over his length, coupled with the feeling of your hands on his balls, sent jolts of pleasure coursing through Azriel's body. He watched you, entranced by the sight of your lips stretched around his cock, the sound of your soft moans vibrating against him.

"That's right, baby," he purred, his voice heavy with lust.

"Take all of me... Show me how much you want this..."

He began to move faster, his hips rocking into your mouth, setting a rhythm that had him teetering on the brink of release. His fingers threaded through your hair, urging you on, pushing you to take him even deeper.

"fuck yes! Good girl, just like tha- oh such fucking good girl!"

You moan louder now sending subtle vibrations down his shaft, your cheeks hollowing out as you suck harder on his cock, taking him deeper each time until he hits the back of your throat. You gag softly but quickly recover and continue sucking him off as if your life depends on it.

The feeling of your throat constricting around his cock was almost too much for Azriel to bear. He grunted, his hands gripping your hair tighter as he fucked your mouth with abandon, his hips snapping forward with each thrust.

"Oh gods, baby..." he groaned, his voice ragged with need.

"You're going to make me come so fucking hard..."

His cock throbbed in your mouth, signaling his imminent release. With a final, powerful thrust, he spilled his seed into your willing mouth, his cum coating your tongue and spilling down your chin.

"That's it... Swallow it all..."

Swiping your fingers over your chin you collect the molten cream and swallow every last drop of his cum, your throat working to milk him dry, your eyes locked on his as you gaze up at him with a look of complete satisfaction and devotion.

Azriel watched, transfixed, as your throat bobbed swallowing his cum, your tongue working to milk him dry. He let out a satisfied sigh, his fingers gently stroking through your hair as he admired the look of complete satisfaction on your face.

"You're amazing," he murmured, pulling out of your mouth and offering you a hand up.

"I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did."

With a smile, he pulled you into his arms for a deep, passionate kiss, his hands roaming over your body as he savored the taste of you still lingering on his tongue.

You lean into his touch, your body pressed tightly against his as you kiss him back just as passionately, your hands running over his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his skin.

Azriel dominated you mouth with a throaty moan, his hands exploring your curves with a growing urgency. He broke away from the kiss only long enough to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, savoring the taste of your skin.

"I want more," he whispered huskily,

"but I think we should save some energy for later."With that, he lifted you effortlessly, carrying you back to the bed where he laid you down, his eyes darkening with desire as he looked down at you.

You giggle lightly as he lays you back down on the bed, your legs parting slightly as you invite him closer.

Azriel's gaze followed the movement of your legs, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he saw the invitation in your eyes. He climbed onto the bed, settling between your thighs, his weight supported on his elbows as he gazed down at you.

"Impatient little thing, aren't you?" he teased, his voice low and playful.

He leaned down, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened peak before giving it a gentle bite.

"But don't worry, love. I plan to take full advantage of that"

Feeling your hands in his hair, Azriel gave a low chuckle, the vibration of his laughter traveling straight to your breasts. He continued his attentions, alternating between teasing your nipples and tracing patterns across your skin with his tongue.

"Hmm, sounds like someone wants more," he murmured, his voice muffled against your flesh.

Pulling back slightly, he shifted his position, aligning his cock with your slick entrance. Without another word, he pushed inside you, filling you completely with a single, smooth stroke.

You arch your back, pressing your breasts back into his waiting mouth as he teases and bites at your sensitive nipples, a soft moan escaping your lips. Your hands find their way to his hair, tangling in the strands as you pull him closer, desperate for more of his touch.

"Fucking hell, babygirl..." he groaned, his hips beginning to rock slowly as he adjusted to your tight warmth. impatience."

He moved to your other breast, lavishing the same attention upon it, all while grinding his hardening cock against your core. Your back arches off the bed as he fills you, a sharp gasp leaving your lips at the sudden intrusion. But as he begins to move, slow and deliberate, you relax into him, your inner walls clenching around his thickness.

"Ah... yes..." you breathe out, your hands tightening in his hair.

"Just like that... Don't stop..."

Hearing your plea, Azriel picked up the pace, his hips snapping forward with increasing urgency. Each thrust drove him deeper into your welcoming heat, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

"Gods, you feel incredible," he growled, leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue dueling with yours as he fucked you relentlessly.

His hands roamed your body, squeezing your ass cheeks, tracing the curve of your waist, and finally, cupping your breasts once again, thumbing your nipples into stiff peaks.

You meet his kiss with equal fervor, your tongue dancing with his as you lose yourself in the sensation of being filled so completely. Your legs wrap around his ass, pulling him even deeper within you, urging him on.

"Oh god, Azriel!" you cry out, your walls spasming around him, milking him for all he's worth.

Feeling your orgasm ripple through you, Azriel let out a guttural roar, burying himself as deep as he could go as he found his own release. He came hard, pulsing streams of hot cum inside you, his body shuddering with the force of it.

"baby Fuck, y/n-" he gasped, collapsing forward, catching himself on his elbows to keep from crushing you before pulling out and gently resting himself on top of you, his hips still between your legs and his head resting on your breasts.

He stayed there for a moment, panting, his heart pounding against your chest, before slowly rolling to the side, taking you with him so you were draped across his chest.

"That was... intense," he panted, his fingers trailing lazily up and down your spine.

"Are you okay, baby?"

"Yeah... That was amazing." you murmur, snuggling closer to him, enjoying the afterglow of their lovemaking.

As you lay there, spent and satisfied, your the aftershocks of your orgasm. You nod weakly, a contented smile tugging at your lips.

Azriel smiled, his fingers gently stroking through your hair as you nestled against him. He could feel the warmth of your body pressed to his, the steady beat of your heart against his chest.

"I know, baby," he said softly, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your forehead.

"And it's only going to get better from here."

His hand trailed lower, his fingers finding your hip, where he gave a gentle squeeze.

"Now rest, we've got plenty of time to explore more later when you can feel your legs again." He taunted with a tired grin.

You sigh contentedly with a fucked out smile on your face, feeling utterly relaxed and loved. You close your eyes, letting the warmth of his body envelope you, and drift off to sleep in his arms.

Watching you drift off to sleep, Azriel couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the moment. Here, in his embrace, safe and protected, with his beautiful mate, it was everything he could ever want. And now, it seemed, he had it all.

With a final lingering look, he allowed himself to relax fully, his breathing evening out to match yours. As he drifted toward sleep, he knew one thing for certain - this was just the beginning.

[taeyongdoyoung]

enjoy the silence

summary: your usually quiet self becomes unusually loud around your boyfriend so you want him to make you shut up 👀 pairing: chan x reader genre: smut with hints of angst warnings: silence kink, insecurities, swearing, healthy communication 🥰 belt, fingering, eating out, overstimulation, piv sex, safeword used, pre-discussed scenario, dirty talk, pet names, kissing, overthinking, they're just idiots in love, your honour 😔 word count: 1.5k

You are generally perceived as the "quiet one" among your friends. Always the listener, never the talker. Honestly, you are more than okay with it. Most of the time, you can't think of a funny or interesting thing to say so you keep to yourself. And you genuinely enjoy hearing about your loved ones' days, even if you are not the best at responding with something witty. Some of them say one of the things that they like about you is that you don't give unnecessary advice but offer your support which is more than enough in certain situations.

All of that changes when you meet Chan. He makes you feel so comfortable that you open up without realizing. Sometimes you would babble for hours and he would let you. In most contexts, you would overthink your answer and end up not saying anything. But when you are with him, you don't have to think. You just freely say whatever is on your mind and are met with acceptance. It is like he unlocked a new part of you that you didn't even know existed.

One evening, you are out having dinner with Chan, and you are excitedly telling him about what you did today, what you ate, where you went, what outfit you wore and all the silly details you normally keep inside. He smiles at you adoringly, adding "Really?" and "That sounds nice" every now and then.

You are genuinely having a lovely time when you overhear a remark coming from the table nearby.

"Ugh, does that woman ever shut up? That poor guy..."

"I know, right? Must be so annoying..."

You immediately stop talking and gulp nervously. They must be talking about you. Were you really that loud?

"Let's go home," you say in a quiet voice.

Chan doesn't question it, he just gets the bill and you two make your way out of the restaurant. He drives you home in complete silence and when you are inside the apartment, he finally breaks the quiet spell.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? You didn't even finish your meal..."

"N-nothing, I'm f-fine," you try to lie but your voice breaks.

"Tell me, please," Chan urges you to trust him with your concerns.

"Channie, do I talk too much?" you ask.

"Oh, so you heard those assholes, as well..."

"So...do I?"

"I seriously love hearing you talk, okay? I've seen how quiet you get around your friends and I am glad you feel safe enough to share all these stuff with me. And to be fair, it's kind of a relief, after a long day of me doing a lot of talking, I get to listen to you. These people at the restaurant were just jealous that no one wants to hear their nasty voices."

That makes you laugh and you bury your head in his chest, enveloping him in a hug.

"Don't you ever get tired? Don't you wish to shut me up?" you want to know.

"Where is this coming from? Forget about these fuckers..."

"Not in general. Don't you want to make me stop talking in bed?" you suggest boldly.

"Oh. It hasn't crossed my mind. Is that something you'd like to explore?"

"As long as it's with you, yes."

"With nobody else?" Chan runs a finger across your cheek.

"Nope, never," you admit.

"Well, I'll see what I can do about that."

Chan looks really tired from work and you probably shouldn't push his buttons right now of all times. But you really want to see him snap. Empowered by your previous discussions of this particular scenario, you decide to give it a shot. If he's not in the mood, you'll just drop it and let him rest. But if he's in...may the universe have mercy on you.

"So I told her, no, I don't want to get drinks for everyone, Susan, 'cause you never pay me back and you always treat me like a minion and then she said-"

Chan sighs deeply because you've told this story like three times already but doesn't interrupt you. Okay, he really appears exhausted, maybe this was a terrible idea.

"Tell me to shut up," you beg him at this point.

"Huh?" he blinks somewhat confused.

"I'm obviously being super loud and you're tired. So, make me shut up and take it out on me. Please?"

Realizing where you're going with this, Chan nods and the exhaustion suddenly disappears from his eyes. His gaze is now on fire as he squishes your cheeks with one hand and pushes you against the wall.

"As long you're begging," he smirks cruelly and kisses you.

Oh dear. He's never kissed you like this, so roughly and fervently, teeth clashing against yours, biting your lips until it hurts. You cannot speak even if you wanted to, which you don't. Completely losing yourself to the feeling, you let him do as he pleases.

Chan grabs your wrist and pulls you towards the bedroom. He pins you under him on the bed and starts talking.

"Always so fuckin' loud, huh?"

You shake your head in disagreement. You can be quiet if he wants you to. You'd do anything if it makes him happy.

"Got nothing to say all of a sudden?" Chan teases you and starts taking off your clothes.

You lick your own lips hesitantly but don't dare say a word. Seeing him like this is so unexpected but you can't get enough of it.

"What got you so shy, hm? I thought you loved yapping to me. All. Day. Long."

The way he enunciates each word would make anyone else think he was genuinely annoyed by it. But you know your Channie. You know that he wouldn't hurt you. Not unless you asked him to.

"Talk to me, baby, yeah? Why aren't you saying anything?" he asks while he's unbuckling his belt.

You refuse to speak and he takes it as a sign to continue. He smacks the bed with his belt and the action is so startling you unvoluntarily flinch as if you were the one hit.

"Are you going to speak or do you want me to force the words out of you?"

Oh, so he's going to use your own weapon against you? Very well, then. Two can play at that game. Let's see who folds first.

Chan takes the task very seriously and does everything he can think of to make you talk again.

"Come on, sweetheart, doesn't this feel good?" he keeps asking as his big fingers stretch you out deliciously. Yes, it feels amazing, but you are so stubborn you say nothing.

"Not even a moan? You're crazy," he laughs but doesn't give up.

He eats you out longer than you've ever thought humanly possible, making you cum over and over again. But you still hold on, fingers gripping the sheets and teeth biting the inside of your cheek.

"Was this okay?" Chan needs to know and you swear you see his eyes watering with emotion, begging to be praised for his otherworldly skills, but not even that can make you speak.

You give him a noncomittal nod, which obviously makes him even more competitive.

Finally, he thrusts into you so deeply, so overwhelmingly that it takes every ounce of willpower for you to not break. His hard cock inside you, his strong arms wrapped around you, his smooth voice talking to you, his beautiful eyes gazing at yours. It's too much, yet never enough. You want to tell him so many things. How much he means to you, how grateful you are for him, how happy he makes you, how-

"Be honest, do you hate me?" Chan interrupts your affectionate thoughts out of nowhere.

Huh? Where the fuck is this coming from?

"P-pineapple," you break your silence by saying the pre-established safeword because there is no way you could continue enjoying yourself and each other without unpacking this.

Oh, no. Chan just wanted to hear you speak again, but not like this.

"What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" he immediately asks in concern and stops his movements.

"Did you hurt me?" you answer sarcastically. "Did I hurt you? Why would you ask me if I hate you while literally inside of me, are you serious right now?"

"I was just wondering," he pouts adorably, "you weren't talking to me for so long, I thought you were mad at me or something."

"I wasn't speaking because that was part of the scenario we talked about! Of course, I love you, you big idiot! How could you possibly ask that?"

Chan smiles fondly and gives you a soft kiss.

"I love you, too," he giggles. "So, you're not hurt? We can keep going?"

"No, I'm fine. Yes, we can, I just said the safeword because I can't have you thinking I hate you under no circumstances. You're everything to me, okay?"

"Okay," Chan agrees easily. "But can I ask for something?"

"Sure, what's up?"

"Please never shut up for real, baby. No matter how tired I may look, I love hearing about your day."

"I know. The same goes for you, yeah? You don't have to keep everything in, alright? I'll always listen to you. Whenever and whatever you want to say, I'm here for you."

"Oh, really? You'll be my good girl and listen? You'd do what I like?" Chan raises an eyebrow and you long to see what kind of demon you've unleashed.

"For you? I'd do anything," you promise.

"Then no more silence. I wanna hear you scream for me."

The End

[elliesmainhoe]

Hey there vivi, I think your work is cool <33 Wanted to ask what you thought of Ellie and girlfriend having IVF with both their genetics/eggs so they both have a biological child together. Know it’s not possible yet but im thinking about a Ellie with biological kid. Tmi but im ovulating so this is what im thinking ab rn. Not asking you to do a little blurb if you don’t want to, but wanted to know if you like the idea of Ellie and her kidd, ngl i think is interesting and adorable. Much love!

omg I fucking love this idea!!!! she would be so silly , I wrote some headcanons for this so hope you like it!!!!

ELLIE WILLIAMS HEADCANONS: YOU HAVE A BABY WITH HER (biologically)

okay let's say- distant future, lesbians can now have biological babies (yay technology!)

when you tell her that your pregnant girlie is gobsmacked, even though you two were actively trying. (aka raw dogging every night)

goes through a crisis, buys baby books, pregnancy books, looks into a ton of birth and labour options

shes prepared for everything, goes to Joel to find advice about taking care of a pregnant woman and what to do with a newborn

GRANDPA JOEL????

stop that would be the most adorable shit ever, him sitting on his porch, yours and Ellie's babe on his chest, giving you two a break

stopppp 😭😭😭😭

anyways getting off topic-

she's literally so much more a doting loser than she usually is (which is a feat in itself)

gets you all your cravings, chocolate? done. pickles? done. chocolate AND pickles together? fuck it she'll try some too.

loves decorating the nursery in your house

PAINTS A DINOSAUR AND/OR SPACE MURAL IN THE ROOM???

the nerd indoctrination is already happening.

her and Joel make loads of custom furniture, adjustable crib, rocking/nursing chair, changing station.

the nursery ends up looking so cute, with loads of earthy tones and greens but also an array of rainbow toys.

OMG THEY MAKE YOUR BABY A ROCKING HORSE??

shed be so supportive during labour

whatever birth method you choose shes so supportive, makes you a little emergency bag just in case you go into labour

loves skin to skin

after the birth, you're exhausted of course, so you're sleeping and she's alone with a newborn baby???

honestly thinks that the baby looks a little funky

when babies come out they're squished, red and all silly looking

they're cute of course!!! but Ellie is still hoping your babe grows out of the squished tomato, potato phase?

skin to skin is her favorite thing

having the baby laid on her chest is genuinely the sweetest thing ever

she 100% cries when your baby grows out of their first onesie

she's so sentimental, keeps everything your kid does or has

old dummies (pacifiers if you're American), baby toys that the kid doesn't play with anymore, the umbilical cord? it's in a ziplock bag somewhere.

wears the baby in those baby back pack things (I can't remember the name LMAO)

when the baby starts teething she's always making jokes about how you've given birth to a feral baby.

jokingly scolds the baby when they start biting when you breastfeed them

dresses the kid up in the funnies outfits

the baby's dresser is basically a fancy dress box by now. dinosaur costumes, teddy bear costumes, pirate costume?

literally everything

---------------

I now have baby fever. kms.

not proofread

she's the best mum especially with a newborn

[aishabbbb]

You're just so cute!

Part 1 Strawhats x affectionate! reader Can be read as platonic or romantic Synopsis: You love giving out compliments, especially to your crew mates. Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp, and Nami

LUFFY

Likes the compliments, especially after Nami berates him.

LOVES compliments on his strength the most, but will beam if you call him smart(since no one else does TT)

Call him pirate king or the greatest pirate and he'll fold immediately.

He is fine with it generally.

Except for being called cute.

Will 1000% pout about it, especially if you call him that in front of Usopp or Chopper cause he wants to be cool yk?

"I'm not cute! What type of pirate is cute!"

Eventually will come around to it begrudgingly(he secretly enjoys it), but will also say it back to you to get you annoyed.

Backfires so bad.

Will try to compliment you back but he kinda sucks.

"You smell like the best meat in the world!"

— Or he is actually very heartfelt and deep out of nowhere

"I love how your eyes dance with the stars."

ZORO

Hates it

Ok he doesn't ACTUALLY hate it, but will act like he does

He will get all fussy about it like "Yeah, whatever." and huff off somewhere.

Will blush anytime you say anything nice about him(all the time) but NEVER lets you see it.

Actually comes to love the attention from you.

ESPECIALLY about his strength and skill.

Call him the best swordsman ever and you MIGHT see him blush since he'll be so off guard. Just might.

Will compliment you back in private, especially if you're dating.

Isn't one to focus on looks when appreciating someone, but will if you just did. Mostly points out your skills.

After some time, he won't feel embarrassed at all and will get a little cocky.

"You are so cool!" "Of course I am."

"Wow Zoro, you are strong." "Just strong? Give me more credit."

HATES if he see's you complimenting Sanji near him.

Brags to him about how cool you say he is.

NAMI

First thinks you compliment her to get out of paying her.

"I'm not going to forgive your debt by sucking up to me."

Once she realizes it's genuine, she changes her attitude.

Feels all giddy inside whenever you say anything sweet about her.

She will smile brightly to you and say thanks whenever you do so.

Doesn't have any compliments she dislikes at all

But she appreciates complimemts on her character a lot more.

Being a (former) theif and conartist makes people have a pre conceived notion of her

So saying she's nice or kind makes her feel very happy.

Will compliment you back a lot.

Mostly on skills and character.

But she does forgive some of your debt because you are kind.

USOPP

Flustered.

He starts stuttering before saying of course!

Tries to stay cool about it but say he is cute or hot and he disappears

With his self esteem, he feels like you don't actually mean what you say.

He WILL ask for assurance if your dating

After realizing you mean it, it will make him feel better about himself

Specifically about his fighting skills

He doesn't think he is that good but you think otherwise

Feels more confident the more you appreciate his talent

Brags about it to everyone

Will uplift you too

Originally to reflect your praise, but later on as actually genuine.

SANJI

Will evaporate

This man gets soooo flustered.

If you thought Usopp was bad, he will redefine the word.

He just can't commute.

Just tries to have any response but ends up babbling.

Honestly, his flusteredness is so cute.

He will get a nosebleed and may faint depending on the type of compliment.

Call him hot or cool and he will get a nosebleed or faint.

Especially if you say he is cool.

But say he is nice—

This man will freeze.

Feels like he doesn't deserve such praise. Especially from you.

Tries to reject the compliment and compliment you back.

"B-b-but Y/N dearest, you are the most kindest, nicest person to EVER grace this earth!"

You never let him reject it.

So he just ends up accepting the praise.

May cry a little sometimes, particularly if you say he is a good person.

Man NEEDS a hug TT

Starts showing off in combat and in general so he can receive praise from you.

Will do something cool and look at you like a puppy until you notice him.

If you don't he pouts off somewhere else.

He will also brag to Zoro about how cool you think he is

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

Twenty-Five Going on Forty-Seven

dbf!jake seresin x fem!reader 12k words (.....yes. 12k. i-)

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

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. this is entirely based on my new fixation on dbf!jake. i have so many thots. so many that they led to a 12k oneshot lmfao. anyway, as always, a list of things to watch out for:

pet names used in an unholy way, safe sex (i fucking managed to finally give them a condom whooooohoooo), oral sex for the both of them (yes i also wrote a blowjob. this is unbelievable i know), dom!jake, some praise kink, a smidge of strength kink at the end. a lot of begging. as always. mention of shower sex. mostly vanilla. jake fucks in missionary because he wants to be nice for his first time with her. if there's ever a sequel i swear to god he will be the most unholy fucker ever

top gun masterlist | dbf!jake seresin masterlist

The first time Jake meets you isn't the first time he's supposed to meet you. He's supposed to come by for dinner that evening, to finally get to know the daughter your parents have told him so much about. And it's not his fault that he meets you seven hours earlier that day. Not really.

Because the pictures your parents had kept showing him were all old. Mostly childhood photographs, some from your graduation, but none recent enough to connect the dots.

So it's really not his fault that he doesn't recognise you when he sees you standing there on the side of the road, phone clamped between your ear and shoulder, the hood of your car all the way up. With how wildly you're gesturing, Jake guesses that you're not particularly close to fixing whatever problem you have.

You're wary when he pulls up behind you and opens his door. It's rarely a good sign when random men prey on very obviously helpless and distressed young women. But Jake doesn't even get closer at first, just stands there in the opened car door and asks if you need any help. For a little moment, you debate whether it's worth the risk. Then your father's voice rings out from your phone and you decide that there's not much this guy could do to you in broad daylight on a well used street with your father on the phone.

So you tell him the truth. Yes, you most definitely have a problem. The way he makes sure it's okay for him to come over and take a look calms you even more. He's considerate and careful and maybe you're actually lucky and he's just a guy who genuinely wants to help.

He steps out from the door and walks up to you and honestly, for a moment there you're startled. He has to be in his forties, but damn, he's attractive. Suddenly you're glad you picked your sundress over your sweatpants this morning.

You let him lean over your car and take a closer look.

"If he can't help, I'll just come pick you up and we'll call a tow truck", your father says after you've filled him in on what's happening. Honestly, you'd really rather not have to call a tow truck though, because that's just going to cost you a bunch of money again, which isn't particularly the way you want to spend it.

Also, this guy leaning over your car - and you're not even denying that you're very much eyeing him up - seems like he actually knows what he's doing there.

He takes a minute or two before he comes up again. He's smiling, which you take as a good sign. He opens his mouth and you hear what he's saying - but because you have no clue what it is that he's trying to tell you, you just nod along. You're not a mechanic, you don't know the goddamn terminology. Something something battery, something something fuel pump, whatever. You take the time to notice his accent instead.

The good news is he thinks he can fix whatever he's found, but you'll still have to get it checked out later on.

He walks back to his own car, rummages around and comes back with a toolbox and an unopened water bottle.

"It might take a while", he tells you as he offers you the bottle. "Feel free to turn on my radio."

You take the waterbottle and bite down on your lip to keep from grinning. He's sweet. Goddamn. Because you've deemed the whole thing safe, you tell your father goodbye and hang up - you honestly just want a bit of privacy to stare at this hunk of a man who's bending over the hood of your car again and offering you a very... good look at his backside.

It's summer. He's wearing a wife pleaser, which is reasonable in these temperatures, but the sight of his forearms working almost makes you feel like he knows what he's doing by wearing it. Does he have a wife to please, though? He's old enough to have kids - your age, maybe a few years younger. He's about as old as your dad. If he has a wife, maybe he's wearing it for her. Maybe she likes the way his biceps flexes just like you do.

You squint at his hands as you uncap the water bottle and take a sip. There's no ring as far as you can see. Would it be entirely unreasonable to assume he's... single?

It's been a minute, maybe, when you decide it's probably awkward for you to stand there and watch him, so you go with his suggestion and lean into his car, palms bracing against the seat to reach for the radio.

You turn it on, switch through a few channels until you find one you like and turn the volume up. Because it's probably just as awkward if you stay in his car - if not bordering on creepy - you step around the opened door and settle yourself against the hood. Your thighs stick to the warmed metal, but that's something you're willing to deal with.

Your eyes cling to him as he works. You don't know what the hell he's doing, you just hope he knows and you're not left with an even worse problem after. But he doesn't seem like that type of guy. And since he's seemingly unmarried... You don't stop yourself from staring.

Fuck, maybe he has a girlfriend, not everyone gets married at thirty. Not everyone wears their wedding ring either. But a girl can dream, right? And you're dreaming, for just a few minutes. You allow yourself to dream.

He looks so good. He looks so fucking good.

Sandy-blond hair, cut short, but not too short, broad, broad, broad shoulders... those arms, that back.

When he straightenes and looks at you, greasy fingers and a triumphant grin on his lips, you also have to admit that he's got chiseled fucking features. You swallow hard and do your best to pretend you haven't been ogling him.

"All done", he says. You raise your eyebrows.

"Really? That quickly?"

He grins and takes a step back, offering you to take a look yourself. You bite back a smile and push off the hood of his car - your hips are swaying as you walk, yeah, but as far as you're aware, he's single and just fixed your car for you, for free, in less than fifteen minutes.

Also, he's hot.

"Looks no different to me", you admit. He lets out a chuckle.

"Try it", he says, reaches for the hood and pulls it down as you slip into the driver's seat. You look up to him through the windshield before you turn the key in the ignition and-

The car starts.

The fucking car starts.

He's actually managed it.

You turn the key back and shake your head in disbelief. If he hadn't accidentally stumbled upon you, you'd probably have had to call the tow truck by now. Instead, you reach for the glove compartment and grab your purse.

"How-", you start as you climb out of the car seat again, shutting the door behind you. "How the hell?"

He chuckles.

"Actually, don't tell me", you interrupt yourself, throwing your hands up. "I don't even want to know. Here."

You reach into your purse and pull out disinfection wipes, offering them to him. He takes one with a smile and a drawled thanks and cleans off the grease on his hands before folding it up and letting it disappear into his pocket.

"So you're my knight in shining armour today", you say, biting down on your lip. Fuck it. You're gonna find out here and now whether or not he's single. "Otherwise I'm sure the tow truck would've cost me a hundred bucks - at least."

"Yeah, probably", he agrees, his eyes dropping to your mouth for just a second.

"Well, then", you smile, as coyly as you can manage. "How can I thank you?"

And just as you hoped, he stills, taking you in - maybe for the first time, you're not sure. His eyes rake down your body, your cleavage, your waist, your legs. His lips tug into a grin, but when he looks back up at you, he's serious.

"No worries", he tells you. "I'm not the tow truck."

He's not pushing you. Actually, he's doing the opposite, and you're not a fan. Maybe he isn't single after all. Maybe he does have a girlfriend. Or a wife. Or maybe he's not interested. Maybe... but you can give it a try, right? Just one try.

"I can't just drive off", you argue, blinking up at him a little more, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Fuck, are you really doing this? Your breath catches for a moment. But then again, if he isn't single, you're just gonna get into your car and never see him again. So who cares? "How about I give you my number?"

Your heartbeat quickens as he looks at you and straightens up. He's still grinning. You can't quite figure him out.

"I'm forty-seven, darling", he chuckles. You try your hardest to ignore how that pet name sounds, all sweet and intimate and god, you'd do a lot to have him say it again.

"So?", you ask and raise an eyebrow. "Does that mean you don't have a phone?"

Jake shakes his head with a chuckle, but you keep looking up at him so seductively, keep smiling so flirtatiously that he can't help himself. You're wearing such a pretty dress, such a dainty necklace around your throat. And you're serious about this.

He's had younger women flirt with him, yes, but usually five, ten years younger at most - and even that's been a while, because he isn't going to bars every night anymore.

You're really young. You're too young. You're, what, twenty-six? You can't be much older.

But you're stunning. Gorgeous eyes, kissable lips, glossy and plush and for just a moment, Jake loses himself in the images his mind seems to produce immediately when he looks at you - has been, from the second he'd spotted you through his windshield.

He's old enough to know better. But he still reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone.

...

The first time Jake officially meets you is seven hours later when he knocks on your parents' door and takes a step back to wait for it to open.

"That's gotta be Jake, someone get the door!", your mother's voice calls out, and it takes a few seconds until he hears soft footsteps coming down the hallway.

Then the door cracks open.

And there stands-

You.

You're smiling widely for the entirety of two seconds. Then your face falls.

Jake feels like the rug is pulled out from under his feet. He tumbles deep down a dark, dark hole as he stares at your pretty eyes, all shocked and wide, mouth open.

"You", you let out, almost breathless.

"You", Jake echoes, in quite the same tone.

Within seconds, you're stepping out onto the porch, closing the door behind you and holding out your hand in front of you, as if to keep him a safe distance away.

You're quick, almost stumbling over your own words as you come to conclusions and try to grasp all their consequences. Jake has a hard time even listening to you. He's frozen in his spot, barely comprehending the entire situation.

The young woman that had so unashamedly flirted with him this morning - that he had most definitely flirted back with - is his neighbour's daughter. His friend's daughter.

So he's fucking frozen in spot, yes.

He's frozen even as you're ushering him into the house with a smile on your lips that's just a bit too wide. He's frozen as he sits down at the dinner table and frozen as your mother offers him a beer. He's frozen as he settles on the couch after and as your father turns on a football game. He's frozen as you scoff at the tv and disappear up the stairs.

Your father asks him what's wrong, but there's no way Jake can tell him.

Even without your lecture on the porch, there would've been no way he would have admitted that he's got your number saved in his phone, "Twenty-five" with a winky face emoji behind it.

So he says he hasn't been all that well - maybe getting the flu or something.

Which is bullshit. He doesn't get sick. He's been sick two, maybe three times in all his life.

But he does think he'll be sick when you take your last step down the stairs half an hour later, in pajamas that barely cover anything - satin or something, he's too focused not focusing on your bare skin to notice anything except your bare skin, really. You just traipse over to the kitchen on tiptoes, eyes glued to your phone, hushed voices reaching his ears when you talk to your mother before you reappear in the living room.

"I'm going to bed", you announce, phone clutched tightly in your hands. "It's been a long day."

Jake can't hear your father's answer. He can't hear the commentator or the cheers from the tv. He can't hear anything, not when you're standing there in the doorway, when he's concentrating so fucking hard on not looking at you.

He fails miserably.

His eyes rake down your body so scorchingly hot that they burn holes into your skin. You have to swallow hard at his expression.

You're not tired at all, actually. Yes, it's been a long day, but if anything, you're buzzing with adrenaline. Which is worse. Because the entire dinner long, you've just had to sit there and stare at him and not do anything about it.

So you're aching to finally hide away in your room, to crawl into bed and contemplate what the fuck is happening. And, just maybe, to dip your fingers into your pajama shorts and think about his shoulders, his arms, his jawline...

Jake manages to grunt some kind of 'goodnight' before you flee - but he doesn't manage to drag his eyes back up from your stomach, all exposed and on display for him. And he doesn't manage to hide it from you.

...

He sees you often over the following weeks. He's been over at your parents' house almost every day for the past six months anyway, and that doesn't change just because you've come back home. Your father still invites him for football games, your mother still talks him into coming over for lunch or for dinner or both and whenever they're outside tinkering on something, he's being called to help.

And - because of course, it's your house as well - you're there, too.

All around him, all the time.

At first, it's innocent. You walk into the kitchen to get a glass of water and smile and say hello. You sit on the couch on a call with a friend and wave at him through the window. You come back from a walk with the dog and ask how he's doing before you disappear inside.

But then there come moments... Moments in which you lie down on a sun lounger in a skimpy bikini while he's painting the fence with your father, sunglasses high on your nose, a book in your hands, rubbing sunscreen into your skin and biting your lip when he can't help but look at you. Moments in which you brush up against him in the kitchen with a giggled 'Sorry', your mother's back turned to you as she grabs milk from the fridge, his fists clenching at his sides, his coffee cup held decently in front of his crotch. Moments in which you sit next to him on the couch and have to lean over him with a lengthy apology, your father just disappearing into the bathroom, your palm high enough on his thigh to stagger into the inappropriate.

The only time he's safe is at work. And even then, you're on his mind constantly.

Those pretty dresses you wear all the time, low-cut in the front and so short they hardly reach past your mid-thighs, in all colours of the rainbow. Those skimpy tops with the flowers on them and jeans-shorts or skirts he's more than once noticed are actually skorts.

He shouldn't be attracted to you. It's so wrong on so many levels. You're too young, much too young, twenty-two years younger than him. And - worse - he's best friends with your father.

He can't be attracted to his best friend's daughter. He simply can't.

It's wrong. It's so, so wrong.

But he can't help himself. He can't help himself when you brush up against him, when you touch him, when you look like that right in front of him.

He doesn't know how he survives those first weeks. He doesn't feel like he's alive, really. Every waking thought is of you - of you and of how wrong it is that he can't stop thinking about you. That he keeps imagining what it would be like to hold you, to kiss you, to-

No.

No, he can't.

Even though you're making it practically impossible for him.

And it's not like you really know what you're doing either. But ever since the car incident that very first day back home, you've been picturing those arms, those shoulders - and after the first time you caught sight of him working shirtless on some project in the backyard with your father, those fucking abs. All glistening, sweaty skin, that v-line, that happy trail...

It's not your fault he's starring in all of your late night fantasies now. It's his. It's his because he shouldn't be allowed to look that fucking good, to smell and sound and feel that good, when you can't have him. Because of course you can't.

He's twenty-two years older than you. He's your dad's new best friend.

You can't.

You can't flirt with him like you want to, you can't have him, because it would be wrong. But you also can't not.

You don't mean to taunt him, not at first. At first, it's just instincts. Talk to him, get his attention. But the more you're around him... the less you can control yourself.

You want to then. You want to graze your fingers across his thigh when your father isn't looking, you want to suck the straw of your drink into your mouth while you blink up at him, you want to accidentally drop your spoon and bend over in front of him. You want to because you know he wants you to.

Even though he doesn't say it, even though he forces himself to turn away when you walk by him, you see the way he looks at you. You catch him staring, you catch him eyeing you up and down. You notice the tick in his jaw and the way his fists clench at his sides. You watch his knuckles turn white as he grabs the neck of his beer bottle and takes a deep sip.

You know he's most definitely attracted to you.

Because even if you imagine half of those things - there's still the car incident. There's still your number saved in his phone. There's still 'darling' on your mind. Mostly the way he's repeated it since then, two or three times maybe, each one inspiring more sinful bedtime scenarios.

You can't.

He can't.

And yet neither of you doesn't.

...

Your parents are away when it happens. Your dad has to go on a trip for work and he takes your mother with him, surprises her with an extra weekend of romance just for the two of them. They're gone by Wednesday morning and won't be back until Sunday afternoon and even though you're twenty-five and have experience living on your own, they've asked Jake to check in on you, just to make sure you're okay.

The first time he 'checks in on you' is involuntary. He's just come back from work, it's Wednesday, 3pm, and he's sitting down on his back porch with a beer when he spots you.

He really doesn't mean to. He hadn't even known you were there.

But the fence between your house and his isn't high and so it's only natural that his eyes flick over to your garden once.

And then twice.

Because you're climbing out of the pool in the tiniest black bikini Jake has ever seen in his life, looking like some angelic, biblic, ancient goddess - your hair in a messy bun, droplets of water running down your bare skin, muscles working as you pull yourself up the little ladder and put both feet against solid, dry ground, leaving wet footprints with every step you take until you grab your towel, sling it around your shoulders and-

Look right at him.

Your lips tug into a flirty grin. You wave at him, your hand lingering in the air a second too long before you wrap the towel tightly around yourself and tread towards the fence. Jake can't do anything but watch you go and swallow hard.

The other option would probably be to drag you into his arms and ravage you until your throat is sore from screaming his name.

So he just sits there and stares at you instead.

"Hey there", you greet as soon as you're close enough to the fence that he can't look past your belly button anymore.

"Hey", Jake says and for whatever reason, his voice sounds raspy even to himself. Your grin only deepens.

"Do you have plans for dinner yet?", you ask. You bat your lashes at him innocently as you dry off your arms. "I was going to order take out."

So that's why three hours later, Jake rings your doorbell, in a black button up he spent twenty minutes picking out. The last time he'd spent that long in front of the closet, he'd been about fifteen years younger and about to go on an actual date. This isn't an actual date. This is anything but a date, because he's only supposed to check in on his best friend's daughter. He's supposed to look after you. Keep you safe.

But you open the door in an oversized, washed out band tee and smile so stunningly that he forgets what he's supposed to do in about half a second.

There's a moment of silence as Jake stares at you. He knows that damn band tee.

"Is that... mine?", he asks in disbelief as he waits for the sight to sink in, which it does not do. His mind blanks completely. It's not just that it's oversized and that you look like you're drowning in it, which already has him imagining the way he could flatten his palms against your stomach and feel for you in that heap of fabric. It's also that he knows this fucking shirt because he's been wearing it for the past ten years.

You look down like you're just realising what you have on, not like you'd almost had a heart attack when you'd seen it in the laundry basket, squealing so loudly that your mother had come in to check on you. Jake had worn that shirt the same day and apparently forgotten to put it back on when he'd gone home, so your mother had put it in the laundry.

She hadn't realised that you'd stolen it for yourself before she could wash it. She probably hadn't paid it that much attention.

You had though. And tonight had felt like the perfect occasion to wear it.

"I found it in the laundry", you say truthfully, looking up at him with big eyes. "Dad said it wasn't his so I just took it. Maybe a mix up. Do you want it back?"

Your fingers reach for the hem of the shirt down by your thighs, tugging mindlessly up just a tiny bit. Jake almost stumbles over his own words with how quick he is in denying you.

"No, no, keep it", he reassures. "Keep it."

You let go of the shirt as your grin widens.

"Okay then", you say softly, turn around and leave the door open so Jake can get in. You stroll into the kitchen, crack open the fridge and grab the freshly made iced tea while Jake closes the door behind him and puts away his shoes.

It could have easily been awkward. Honestly, Jake isn't sure that it's not. But it doesn't feel like that. It just feels... heavy. Drowsy. As though you're moving in slow motion, looking at him over your shoulder with a sultry grin. And in his shirt as well. His fucking shirt, it's unbelievable.

You're smiling at him over Chinese take out food with the radio playing softly in the background and the dim kitchen light on and it could have been almost normal, almost nothing, almost just a friendly dinner with his best friend's daughter.

But it isn't.

It isn't because you're leaning over the table and stealing a spring roll from him, grinning at him when he starts to protest. It isn't because you're pushing him back down onto his chair when he wants to get up and help you clear the table, leaning most definitely too close to him to grab his plate and bending most definitely too far down to put it into the dishwasher. It isn't because you're opening a bottle of whiskey, pouring him one and only then asking if he's going to stay and watch a movie with you.

You've already poured him the drink.

Not that he'd been planning to say no.

You're not close to him on the couch, not really. You're a respectful distance away as you put your own drink onto the table in front of you and grab the remote. You're still a respectful distance away as you scroll through a bunch of movies and ask him if he's got any preferences - besides football, of course.

But when you decide on a movie, on one of those rom-coms he'd never watch willingly, you're draping your legs over his and brushing your hair away from your face and he has to swallow hard.

His hands drop to your bare skin almost instinctively. He can't keep them off of you, not when you're this close to him, not when you're offering so prettily. It's like he has to touch you, has to brush his thumbs across your ankles.

This could all be normal. This could all be usual.

Jake doesn't bother paying attention to the movie. It's not like he could possibly pay attention to it, not when his fingers are running up and down your soft skin. So he doesn't really mind that he misses their first kiss, even as you look up from the drink you're refilling with a gasp and wide eyes to watch.

Jake just watches the way your hair frames your face, those droplets of iced tea on your lips before you wipe them off. He's sure he could taste them if he tried to.

You lean back into the couch then and stretch and your shirt - Jake's shirt - rides so far up that he catches sight of your underwear. Fuck.

He has to grab onto you hard so that he doesn't launch himself right on top of you. His mouth is dry all of a sudden, so dry that he has to swallow. You blink up at him as you feel his hands clench around your ankles, your teeth digging into your bottom lip to keep from grinning.

He needs a few seconds to even look up at you. It's like his eyes are glued to that expanse of bare skin at your hip, clinging to the thought of you in your underwear right before him. You're always wearing shorts. You're always wearing shorts. You're always fucking wearing shorts.

Shit.

He shouldn't. He can't.

But his hands brush up your calves and he does look back at you then, which really isn't better, because your lip is still caught between your teeth and your expression is so sinful that he has to bite down on his own tongue.

"Jake", you breathe, all soft and quiet and that's it. That's his breaking point.

You can't just say his fucking name like that, not in his shirt, not while presenting him such a good look at your underwear, and expect him to be okay.

"Fuck", he mutters, then he's on you.

It's an uncomfortable position. You're half turned to him, half away, your legs are still thrown over his lap, which means he can't really push close to you, but his lips are against yours, so firmly, so passionately that you can't care, not right then.

Your eyes fall shut and you kiss him back with the same fervor, the same heat, the same fucking desperation to finally feel him. You part you lips almost too eagerly, too quickly, just so he can stroke his tongue along yours. His hands dig into your thighs, grabbing you tightly, and your arms cross behind his neck to drag him down to you - just that your legs are really in the way now and you have to try and pry one from his lap so that he doesn't crush it, which isn't all that comfortable and takes a while too long to still be sexy. You hardly mind. Jake doesn't either, only pulls his knees up to the couch to climb on top of you.

The whole thing is complicated and annoying and decidedly too time consuming, but his lips are on yours and he's pressing against you, catching himself with a palm against the couch cushions and lowering you to lie down, every single touch frenzied and hurried and hot. Heady and heavy and horny.

You're dragging your hands through his hair, tugging, pulling, scratching your nails across his scalp. He's grabbing your hips with his free hand, grasping your thighs, tangling his fingers in your shirt and digging them into your skin.

You're grinding against him. Not softly, not carefully, not secretly. You're wrapping your legs around him and grinding against him, almost without realising it - you need to be close, you need to be closer. You need to move. You need to feel him.

At the first moan you let out, Jake stills. When you breathily add his name, he pulls back entirely.

It's cold and empty without him, cold and empty and confusing as he settles back on his ankles, panting and wide-eyed. Your arms and legs drop to the couch as you try to catch your breath.

"No", Jake mutters. "We can't."

You push yourself up onto your palms, chest still heaving as you look up at him. Your cheeks feel so hot that you're sure they're embarrassingly red by now and your mind is still hazy with what just happened -

Jake had kissed you. He'd kissed you and you'd kissed him back.

And now he isn't kissing you anymore and you're absolutely not alright with that. You need him to kiss you again. You need to dig your hands into his hair and feel him knead your thighs again. You need to find out what it's like to rake your nails along his arms and scratch down his back.

"Jake", you breathe, staring at him all wide-eyed as he shakes his head and inches even further away from you. He seems like he's in a trance. You repeat his name more forcefully and reach out for him - but he only shakes his head again and runs a hand down his face.

You still for the entirety of two seconds. Then you sit up, inches closer to him than necessary, and toy with the hem of your shirt. You've got a hunch that giving and taking the sight of your underwear will only help your case here.

"Why not?", you ask as you watch his eyes drop down, just like you'd wanted. His breath catches.

"You're twenty-five", he begins, his voice a bit too rough to sound unaffected. "And I'm friends with your father."

You take a long look at him.

"Would you if you weren't friends with my father?"

You bite down on your lip and blink up at him as prettily as you can manage. You're quite sure you know the answer. Especially with that car incident... With your number saved in his phone. With that smug grin you still see in your fantasies.

He hadn't been too concerned with your age back then.

"I am friends with your father", Jake says, all the while struggling to drag his eyes back up your body.

"But if you weren't", you go on, not ready just yet to leave this be - because you know that if you back down now, you'll never get a chance again. Not like this. Not with him. "If you weren't friends with my father. Would you?"

A muscle ticks in his jaw. You hold your breath - one, two, three seconds. Then he's on you yet again and this time, this time with no end in sight. Not as he pushes you back down onto the couch and sets both his palms down next to your head. Not as you wrap your legs around his waist and work the buttons of his shirt, fingers moving so frantically that you slip up more than once - not that you care.

You're kissing Jake. After what has felt like an eternity of teasing and quietly flirting, you're finally kissing him, touching him, feeling him. On top of you, all around you.

Yes, he fucking would. You were right.

His shirt finally unbuttons and you can hardly push it out of the way quickly enough to run your hands down his chest - exploring his collarbones, his abs, that fucking happy trail that has been driving you insane ever since you saw it for the first time. Your fingers brush bare skin, warm, hot, bare skin, before they catch on his waistband. He grinds his hips onto yours as you draw your fingertips along his belt and swallows the moan you so pathetically let out.

You're just about to get to work on opening his belt buckle when he shifts his weight onto one hand and grasps your wrist with the other, pulling an inch away from you as he does so, lips parting in sticky intoxication.

"Jake", you mewl, but when you blink open your eyes he's already shaking his head softly and- grinning. Grinning that smug grin that you've been dreaming of. The one you haven't seen since the very first time you met him. Not with your dad around or directed at anyone else, no. The grin that takes your breath away right then, and you can't even tell why.

It's confident and cocky and cheeky and so, so very, very sexy. Fuck.

You stare at him with wide eyes and parted lips, too caught up in taking him in to notice how he's bringing both your hands up over your head.

"If we're doing this, I'm doing it right, darling", he mutters, all low and rough and the pet name has you clamping your thighs even harder around him. "And only if you want me to."

You can't nod quickly enough.

"I need you to tell me, baby", he grins, exposing those pearly whites that you'd very much like to feel biting into your neck or something. "I need you to say yes."

"Yes, Jake", you push past your lips, breathless and panting and desperate. Desperate for him. "Please."

His chuckle reverberates in your own chest. He runs his hand down your side and rubs a soft circle against the bare skin of your hip, catching on the flimsy fabric of your underwear.

"Already begging for me", he mutters with a grin, his fingers hooking into your waistband. Your hips buck up into his and a moan drops from your lips and Jake just keeps on grinning. Keeps on running his thumbs along your hip bones. "That easily."

You can't even deny it, deny him. You need him to touch you and you need him to do it now.

"You're lucky I want to taste you, because I'm sure it'd be fun to tease you", he chuckles, holds you down against the couch as he sits back on his ankles, keeping your legs spread and the dark spot on your underwear right on display for him. "I could keep you here all night."

You're not sure what excites you more - the promise of all night or the tasting you part. Either way, you bury your hands into your own hair and tug hard to keep yourself from sitting up, pushing him onto his back and riding him into oblivion. He wouldn't let you anyway, you're guessing.

Jake runs his free hand down the inside of your thigh and you really have to concentrate on not moving then. Every touch, every brush and every stroke sends shivers down your spine and pools in your core, heating up each inch of your skin.

When he reaches your underwear once more, he hooks his second thumb into it as well and tugs. Your jaw clenches. God, you've gotta keep still, you've just gotta wait-

He looks up then and raises his eyebrows.

"Please, Jake", you breathe, before he can even say anything. His eyes drop again and he pulls your underwear down, down, down, pushing your knees together to slide them off your legs and you're holding your breath, holding your breath in this intoxicating mess of a moment as he parts your thighs again and leans in. Leans closer.

Leans... not close enough.

Instead, he grabs the hem of your shirt.

"As much as I like that you're wearing my shirt", he mutters, already pushing it up and exposing your stomach to him, "I want to see you."

You let out a pathetic little moan, loosen your hands from your hair and pull his shirt over your head instead, dropping it down onto the floor without looking or bothering where it lands. You're not really bothered about anything besides getting Jake's mouth on you right now.

You're dripping already, dripping down your own thighs as he takes you in - all naked, all bare in front of him, soft skin and smooth curves, chest rising and falling with your heavy breath, eyes half-closed, lips parted and kiss-swollen.

It's wrong. He shouldn't. But he's already gone too far and now, now, with all of you for him to see, to touch, to feel, he can't go back. He can't ever go back.

He wants to burn this image into his memory forever.

"Jake", you whisper, voice just as soft and silky as the rest of you and he snaps out of his trance, runs his fingertips over your stomach, studies you as your breath catches. He leans down again, but his eyes are fixed on you still, focused even as he presses a kiss to your hipbone, then to the inside of your thigh. His teeth graze your skin and his fingers brush against the underside of your boobs.

Fuck.

You bite down on your lip.

Jake thinks he might be in heaven as he palms at your breasts, swiping his thumbs across your nipples and watching your expression change ever so slightly. He breathes against your wetness and his eyes flicker down to finally look at you, dripping for him. His fingers still for just a moment.

If he does this, there's no going back. He's crossing a line that he can never uncross.

But in all honesty - he's already long crossed that line.

So he flattens his tongue against you and tastes you. And you throw you head back and let out a moan that's so filthy that he can't even be bothered to care about what fucking lines he's crossing anymore. He just buries his face in your wetness and basks in the way your eyes roll back into your head.

Your hands dig into his hair all by themselves, tug and pull and push him closer, further into you. You taste heavenly. You are in heaven. You're in heaven with Jake between your legs, brushing his tongue through your folds, sucking your clit into his mouth and groaning into you. He's running his fingers over your breasts, palming and grasping at them, circling and tracing.

That's when the movie stops.

You hadn't even realised it was still on, to be honest, but now, in the silence, your moans echo three times as loud. Jake bathes in the sounds you're letting out. You're absolutely gorgeous like that, teeth tugging at your bottom lip, cheeks flushed, eyes fluttering closed before you blink them open again to look at him, to watch him as he lays between your thighs.

You're soaking in the way he swipes his tongue against you, the way he palms at your skin. With every touch and every brush, you can feel the knot tightening. Can feel the tension in your limbs growing. Can feel the way your legs are starting to clamp tighter, tighter and tighter around Jake's head.

He's so good at this. He's so fucking good at this.

Your grip on his hair tightens so much that you're sure you have to be hurting him, but he doesn't show the slightest hint of wanting to tell you off for it. No, quite the opposite: he pushes further into you and groans his approval.

Which is about the last thing you can take.

Your legs cramp, your hands drag at his hair, your back arches, your head hits the armrest of the couch and Jake guides you through your high, eyes set on you, focused and fixed on you, watching every single reaction you have to him, drinking in the sight of you, drinking in your moans. You're pushing back against him, panting and clawing at him, lips parted and eyes shut tightly as you take in a shaky breath and sink slowly back against the couch.

The air is heavy. Heavy with your emotions, heavy with your orgasm, heavy with your moans.

Jake pulls back slowly, softly, draws his hands down to your stomach to rub circles onto your skin - significantly warmer now than before. You're still breathing heavily, legs unhooking from around his head only reluctantly. Honestly, you wouldn't have minded if he'd just decided to stay down there for the next three to five business days. But you also don't mind as he pushes himself up and presses a kiss to your lips, because he tastes like you and you get to hook your arms around his neck and pull him even further down onto you.

With his half-bare chest pushed against yours, his tongue runs along your lips and you open willingly up to him. More than just willingly. Because with him on top of you, his lips sticky and syrupy on yours, not wanting or not able to part from yours, there's already anticipation running in your veins, wetness pooling in your core again, the urge to wrap your legs around him and grind against him growing and growing with every second that he's kissing you.

You draw your hands down his throat, push his shirt out of the way and brush your palms down his bare torso, all hard abs against your fingertips. He's in such good fucking shape you could truly be running your hands up and down a washboard right now. It feels unfair that he's more than twenty years older than you and somehow fitter.

Your fingers catch on his waistband then.

"Jake", you whine softly against him. "Please, I need you."

He groans, drops his head down to your neck and for a second, you just hear him breathe - all hot and heavy before his lips graze your skin.

"Fuck, you can't say that, darling", he mutters. "You don't know what you do to me."

His belt buckle feels cold against your fingertips, so cold against your sticky, sweaty skin.

"Show me", you whine, beg, plead. He's not teasing you, not taking his time, he's not waiting or edging or anything, and still- Still, you're so fucking desperate. He's finally got you here, finally, and as much as you're sure you'd enjoy his teasing... You just need him to fuck you. Now.

Jake chuckles breathily as he raises his head to look down at you. There's that grin again. That fucking grin.

Then he plants that grin onto your lips and you moan softly, hooking your fingers into his belt and pulling hard. You've just started loosening it successfully when he sits back onto his ankles, leaves you cold and lonely and fully naked on the couch. You mewl.

"Jake-", you let out, but he's already standing up, climbing off of the couch and you're sitting up as if in trance, just to follow him, whatever it is that he has in mind.

He slips off his shoes before he starts to work his belt and then lets that fall to the ground too. You reach for him instinctively, drawing your fingertips along his thighs as he pops the button of his jeans and pulls down his zipper, but when he hooks his thumbs beneath his waistband and tugs down, something snaps inside of you.

"Wait", you whisper. "Let me."

You reach out for him and graze your fingers along his waistband, taking a breath as your eyes flutter up at him. He swallows hard, lets his arms drop to his sides and nods heavily. God, he looks so fucking attractive. His hair all messy, his jaw clenched, his eyes fixed solely on you. You make sure to work quickly, almost frenzied, hurriedly pulling down his jeans and taking his briefs right with them. You won't spend unnecessary time on unimportant things.

Your breath catches, palms stilling against his thighs.

Fuck.

Jake's hand twitches, then clenches into a fist. But he stays right where he is, doesn't move an inch. Everything in him screams at him to run his fingers through your hair and guide you closer to him - but he doesn't. He won't. Not tonight, not right now. Right now, he wants to give you every out he can. Just in case you want to take it.

You don't. Of course not.

Not when you can see just how much he's holding himself back.

So instead you lean down and kitten-lick his tip. His hand flexes, again, and even though he lets out a deep groan that will surely echo in your head for the next two weeks, he stays still.

You just wrap your fingers around the base of his cock and take him into your mouth.

He has to close his eyes and tilt his head up to keep from bucking into you. Damn, it hasn't even been that long since he got blown. And he didn't react like a teenager then. But something about your warm, wet mouth, something about the way your dainty fingers reach around him, something about how you eagerly take him so far that he hits the back of your throat, something about that soft little gagging noise you make just before you pull off of him to breathe in deeply-

Fuck, you're making this really hard for him.

"Jake", you mutter, your hand still working him. He opens his eyes and looks down at you, looks down at you sitting there on the couch, completely naked, eyes all wide and cheeks flushed and so fucking stunning. His fingers brush along your forehead, tuck a strand of loose hair behind your ear.

"Jake", you repeat, a little more breathlessly this time. "Don't hold back for me. I won't break."

His jaw clenches again, but you just blink up at him, the weight of your words heavy between you. His eyes roam your face for any sign of uncertainty - then he nods. He'd like to disagree, though. He's more than afraid he'll break you.

You're so young, so sweet, so fragile.

Just not innocent. And you feel like you have to remind him of that - of your more than obvious flirting, of your sultry grins and half-naked hints, of your number sitting so unashamedly in his contacts.

So you lean in again, pull your free hand from his thigh and grab his wrist instead, dragging it away from your cheek and planting it on the back of your head as you wrap your lips around him. He takes a shallow breath and your hand drops back down to his thigh. There's one, two seconds in which your eyes just flutter closed and your nails dig into his skin-

Then, finally, fucking finally! Jake tangles his fingers into your hair and pushes you into him. You loosen your hand from around him and put it against his other thigh, allowing him to pull you closer and closer. You breathe deeply through your nose as Jake groans above you - and it takes everything in you not to grin. Instead, you just let him guide you, blink open your eyes to look at him and try to ignore the arousal dripping down the inside of your thighs. He looks so fucking good, it should truly be forbidden, because now you have to press your legs together and steady your palms against him.

Jake feels about the same. His breathing is heavy, his grip on your hair firm, and his eyes are set on you - on how he disappears inside your mouth, again and again, your spit coating him, your throat tight. He can't help but push you down, one time, two times, and pull you back, three times, four times, then push you down and pull you back again. And again. And again. He can hardly concentrate on how good you're making him feel when you're looking that fucking sinful.

Shit.

Before he can come right then and there in your mouth, he tugs you off fully, his jaw clenching involuntarily at the soft whine you let slip. But you can barely be truly bothered when he leans down and presses his lips to yours instead. You're not bothered about anything, really - about anything but his tongue against yours as you cross your arms behind his neck and draw him in, your hands dragging into his hair, your mouth moving desperately against his, sloppily, silently begging him for more.

Jake steadies his palms against the back rest and pulls away heavily, breathing hard as you open your eyes again to look at him - half-lidded, all languid and slow. He swallows hard.

"Do you-", he starts, his voice low and rough and you nod, letting your arms drop from around him to point at the side table.

Have a condom, he'd wanted to ask. In any other situation, he'd have one himself, but something about bringing condoms for a check in on his best friends daughter would have felt incredibly wrong.

"In my makeup bag", you say, your voice thin and breathy as he stretches and reaches for the lavender coloured pouch, unzipping it and looking for the condoms between all the brushes and lipglosses. He can barely pull one out before your fingers close around it, before you've carefully torn it open. He drops your makeup bag back onto the side table right as you straighten up to press a kiss to his lips - almost innocent, almost, if it weren't for the taste of him on your tongue. Then you press a kiss onto his collarbone. Then one right onto his abs. Then one just above that happy trail that has been driving you fucking insane. And then, then, you run your tongue over his tip again before you roll the condom onto him.

Which means it's his turn.

And he doesn't hesitate.

He's not rough in the way he pushes you onto your back on the couch, no, he's smooth with it, hands running along your skin as he cages you in, as he rests his arms next to your head - but he's firm nonetheless. He takes control easily, moving you how and where he wants to, claiming your mouth, pressing his lips to yours. You let him. More even, you relish in giving in to him, in giving him control, in letting go, in trusting him. You bathe in his kisses, in his touches, in his soft grunts as he guides himself into you.

"Jake", you whine against his lips, your fingers tangling in his hair, eyes falling shut. The stretch is delicious, heavenly. He fills you slowly, dragging his lips down your throat as you tilt your head back and let out a filthy moan. Your legs wrap around him, pull him closer. His teeth graze your neck, drawing a moan from you as he settles. He gives you a moment to adjust.

A moment too long.

Way too long.

Even with his lips on your skin, with your nails dragging down his neck, digging into his shoulders, even with him inside of you, you need more. You need him to move. Right fucking now.

"Jake", you mewl, your eyes fluttering open. He raises his head to look at you and- Fuck, good lord. You've messed up his hair and his pupils are wide and his cheeks are red and he looks fucking heavenly. So heavenly that your breath catches. You forget what you wanted to say for a moment. Then his thumb brushes your cheek and you remember.

"Move", you breathe, digging your fingers into his skin and wrapping your legs around him tightly. You need him to move. But his lips tug up in that grin again and, as quickly as you can, you add- "Please, Jake."

His grin widens as he looks down at you, all pretty and desperate, clenching around him, lips parting in a silent moan. It would be so easy to tease you, so easy to make you beg and plead for him... And you'd look so gorgeous doing it. You're already so eager to please him.

But not tonight. Not right now. Right now, he just needs to make you feel good. So he leans down, presses a kiss to your lips and moves. Finally.

You open up to him eagerly, letting him run his tongue along yours, moaning into him as he thrusts into you. Deep and languid, hitting all the right spots like no one has before. Fuck, fuck, fuck-

You're really doing this. He's really doing this. You claw at his back, scratch down his skin, sure to leave bruises as he pulls his head up to look at you, to watch the way you arch up into him. Your skin glistens with sweat, your lips part to let out a breathy mewl and the coil in your stomach tightens, tightens, tightens.

Jake shifts his weight onto one arm, frees a hand to brush his fingers through your hair, tugging, tilting your head back, exposing your throat to him. You moan at the ceiling as he drops a filthy kiss onto your collarbone before he lets go of your hair again, trailing his hand down your side instead - and his hand is so fucking big, so big as he draws it down your body, brushing his fingertips over your boob, sweeping over your hip, grasping your thigh. You pull him down onto you, crash your lips back onto his hard. You need to feel him, you need to kiss him, you need to hold him right now. You need him. You need this.

He smoothes his fingers down your skin until they catch on your clit.

"Jake", you moan into his mouth, pathetic even to your own ears. He only grins into the kiss and circles your clit as he thrusts into you, again and again and again, your legs clenching harder and harder and harder around him before he pulls away, pulls even further away even though you chase after his lips, his eyes roaming your face as you squeeze yours shut tightly.

"Look at me, darling", he drawls, his voice low and raspy, his fingers rough against your clit. "Look at me when I'm fucking you."

You let out some kind of deranged moan at his crude wording, opening your eyes and blinking up at him because there's no fucking way you can deny him. Not when he calls you darling like that. Not when he thrusts inside you just right. Not when the view of him, messy hair and grinning and all, has you clenching around him this hard.

You're close. So close.

"Atta girl", he mutters, and that does it for you.

Your legs cramp and your lips part again to let out a gorgeous little moan that Jake swallows up immediately, slotting his mouth over yours and drinking up the way you clench around him. It takes everything in him not to come too. You're so fucking pretty and you're clenching so fucking perfectly around him, but he needs to make you feel good first, he needs to make you come first, he needs...

"Jake", you mewl, face scrunched up, back arched, as he guides you through your second high of the night. "Fuck, fuck."

He's grinning when you come down. You grab his hand and pull it away from your clit. It's too much right now, too much. It takes a second for you to even realise that he's stopped moving entirely, too focused on watching you, on drinking up the sight of you, tousled hair and red cheeks and parted lips and all. You look like an angel, so fucking heavenly that he can't believe his eyes, not really.

"Jake", you mutter, slurring his name so prettily and pulling him in for another kiss, your arms loose around his neck, your fingers lazily brushing through his hair. "Come for me?"

It's barely more than a breath, barely more than a whisper onto his lips, but he hears it, oh, he hears it. He lets out a groan as he draws away again, his eyes roaming your face. You're unbelievable. Fucking unbelievable.

You're asking him to come for you. Begging him to come for you.

And there's no grin in sight, no smug smile, no hint of trying to take control of him - it's not a command, not even close, you're actually, genuinely pleading, your eyes half-lidded and barely focusing, just needing him to feel good now, too.

You're really fucking unbelievable.

He can't remember ever having a woman ask him to come.

He kisses you so hard you become dizzy, pressing his lips onto yours and tangling a hand into your hair. He pushes impossibly closer, thrusts back into you and pulls another string of moans from you, bordering on incomprehensible, hardly more than breaths, mewls that he swallows before they can flee into the empty air of the living room.

His own breathing comes in pants, his muscles clenching and tensing and he's there quicker than he thought he'd be. He's close, really close, and that's when you decide to dig your teeth into his lip and tug and fuck, he's there, alright. He's done then. He spills inside you with a groan, pulling back right as you flash him a dazed grin, eyes fluttering open to take him in.

Your throat feels way too dry all of a sudden.

You don't think you'll get this image out of your head ever again, this image of him coming undone on top of you. It's burning itself into your memory while you watch, never to be forgotten.

Because hell no, you won't forget this.

"Fuck", Jake groans, his voice all rough and hoarse and he leans down to press a kiss to your lips again, slow this time, almost soft. He brushes a thumb down your cheek, lightly cups your jaw and pulls you even closer, your skin warm beneath his fingers.

You tighten your arms around his neck a bit, keeping him firmly there, firmly on top of you, firmly inside of you. But he makes no move to leave, anyway. Just runs his tongue tenderly along yours, unhurried and gentle, and holds you close. You don't know for how long. He could've kept you there for eternity and you wouldn't have minded. How could you mind, basking in the afterglow like this, with his skin sticking to yours, his fingers grazing your cheek, his lips brushing against yours? No, really, you could've stayed there for the rest of forever.

But he pulls back after a while, of course, and pulls out, too. You let out some kind of disappointed mewl, but that's about everything you can do before he gently grasps your wrists and pulls your arms from around him, smiling in a way you can't even begin to complain.

"Lets get you cleaned up, darling", he says softly, carefully helping you sit up, his hands everywhere but nowhere nearly long enough.

You sigh dramatically, blinking your eyes open to look at him, even as you let him pull you up. Your legs feel like pudding. You feel like pudding.

"If we have to", you give in, smiling as Jake grins and shakes his head at you.

"We have to", he chuckles, hauls you up into his arms and waits for you to hold onto him before he carries you into the bathroom - seemingly fucking without any problem whatsoever, as if you weigh nothing at all to him.

You bite down on your lip and rest your forehead against his chest, squeezing your eyes shut to not have to look at him while you contemplate his strength. He should not be this fucking strong. He should not be allowed to be this fucking strong.

"Careful", Jake says, his voice low, as he sets you gently down on the toilet seat. You flinch away from the ice-cold seat against your thighs, fingernails digging into his shoulders for one, two, three seconds before you relax and settle down.

Jake lets go of you just as softly, steadying you until he's sure you won't just fall right off the toilet. He turns and you look up, his back right there to stare at, a smile tugging at your lips again - goddamn, he looks way too good, holy shit. You barely hear the garbage can open and close as he throws away the used condom, then rummages through the drawers until he finds a washcloth that he can soak in luke warm water.

He turns with a smile, grabs your chin tenderly and presses a kiss to your lips, just one, all sweet and languid, so unlike the rest of his kisses. You hardly notice that he's cleaning you off as he kneels down in front of you, simply because you're so entranced by him. God, but he really looks like he's fucking glowing, you hate him for having this effect on you.

He wraps his arms around you again - did he put the washcloth away? fuck, did you miss that? - and you cuddle close, almost (but just almost) letting out a pleased sigh. Fuck, he's so broad and so strong and so comfortable...

He sets you down on the couch and smiles.

"Wait here for me, darling", he mutters, bending down to pick up your shirt (his shirt, really) and slide it carefully over your head once again. You hug yourself close and settle deep into the couch as Jake disappears. His steps echo through the house.

Then there's silence.

Absolute silence.

You rest your head against the headrest and close your eyes, your fingertips absentmindedly drawing circles against your heated skin.

And in this quiet emptiness... the reality of the situation finally sinks in.

For the first time.

Because you just slept with Jake Seresin.

Jake Seresin. Your neighbour Jake Seresin. Your dad's best friend Jake Seresin. Twenty-two years older than you Jake Seresin.

Holy fucking shit. Holy fucking shit.

This actually happened. This actually fucking happened. You slept with Jake Seresin. And somehow... somehow- Somehow you can't feel guilty. You can't feel bad or ashamed. Not like you should. And you definitely should. Because this is Jake Seresin, not some random frat guy. This is forty-seven year old, your dad's best friend Jake Seresin.

But you can't feel bad.

You really do try, for the entirety of a minute or two, while somewhere in the back of the house, a door is opened and closed again. But you still can't feel bad. So you don't.

Jake comes back with a water bottle and his briefs back on, which you can't help but feel disappointed at. He sits down on the couch next to you and hands you the bottle.

"Drink", he nods, so you uncap it carefully and take a sip. It's charming, really, how the first time you'd met him with your car broken down, he'd also handed you a water bottle. A grin tugs at your lips involuntarily. It's just coincidence, you know that, but there's something incredibly sweet about the way he's seemingly always made sure to keep you hydrated. There's something sweet about him, simple as that, with how softly he's cleaned you off and settled you down on the couch after.

You put the bottle down on the table and turn to him.

He looks almost normal again, almost like before. He's still nearly naked though (which you certainly aren't complaining about), and his hair still looks like he's just walked straight out of a hurricane. He raises his eyebrows at you as you take him in.

"We should probably talk about this", you say, your voice cracking halfway through. You're not sure you want to talk about it. And with the way Jake's face falls... yeah, he doesn't seem to, either. But he still straightens up and brings some more distance between the both of you.

Maybe that's smart, actually. Maybe. But then again, you've already done everything you could to try and feel bad, so instead of doing the reasonable (you're already way past the reasonable anyway) and pushing further away from Jake too, you stretch out a leg and drape it over his lap again.

A muscle in his jaw ticks and he grasps your ankle almost immediately, as if there's no other choice but to touch you even while he's trying to keep his distance.

"But", you grin, scooching a little closer as an idea forms in your mind, "You know, I still have to shower. Chlorine is so bad for the skin unless you wash it off. And I did spend quite a while in the pool today."

...

It's Monday afternoon and even hotter than the weeks before. You're sitting outside, sunbathing in the fifteenth layer of sunscreen of the day, with sunglasses on that hardly seem to do anything and wearing nothing but a bikini because god, you're fucking melting. It hasn't been this hot the entire year.

The only really good thing about the scorching heat is that Jake, for lack of swimming pools in his garden, is doing sets in yours. You're incredibly glad for your sunglasses, because even though your mother is sitting right next to you, burying her nose in another of the novels she'd checked out from the library two weeks earlier, you can ogle Jake without worrying that she'll catch you.

And goddamn, you're ogling, alright.

It's not like you haven't stared at him enough. Over the past five days, you've barely been doing anything else. Well, except for those times you'd had your eyes closed and his lips on yours, of course. But still, you don't really feel like you could ever possibly get enough of staring at him.

And right now, right now, with the way he climbs out of the pool, arms tensing and flexing, water dropping down his skin, his hands running through his soaking wet hair...

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You bite down on your lip and press your thighs together. God, if you aren't careful, you'll have to disappear into the house and shower early, because you're sure you could not pass the dark spot on your bikini bottoms off as sweat.

Jake turns away to grab his towel and starts to dry off and you're already mulling over how you'll phrase the message you'll send him (something along the lines of 'tell my parents you need to use the bathroom' with a shower selfie attached? You've already sent him way worse things while he'd been at work) when your mother suddenly gasps.

Three heads turn to her simultaneously.

"Jake!", she chokes, her book sinking down into her lap. Jake raises his eyebrows at her, just as clueless as you are. She parts her lips and then clamps her mouth shut again, apparently lost for words. "Your back."

It hits you like a tidal wave.

Oh, shit. Oh, holy fucking shit.

You should've noticed earlier. Much earlier. You should've- God, he'd known, too, hadn't he? But you'd been the one to stare at his back long enough that you should've noticed. Yesterday. You should've noticed the long, red lines running down his skin. Your long, red lines running down his skin. Fuck, fuck-

"Oh, that-"

Jake stumbles over his own words for the first time ever since you've met him. His eyes find yours, for just a moment or two, and you can see the panic in them. It's the second fucking day your parents are back. The second fucking day. And you're already messing up, you're already-

"I knew it", your mother grins, clapping her hands together and letting out a laugh that startles you so hard you flinch. "I knew you were a womanizer after all! I mean, looking like that, there's no other way-"

"Honey!", your father gasps, and she giggles and throws her hands up. But he's grinning too and you know him well enough to say he isn't really mad that she's complimenting Jake.

"Sorry, sorry, just saying." She chuckles to herself and grabs her book again, her voice dropping to a mumble. "I can't believe it though, we go away for five days and suddenly he's hooking up with someone! I think we need to stop inviting him over so often if we want him to find somebody."

Your father laughs and gets up to offer Jake a beer.

"You didn't happen to see who he brought home, did you?", your mother asks, her voice almost too casual to really be casual as she turns her head to look at you with raised eyebrows.

You choke on your breath.

"Um-", you start, but your father already rolls his eyes and saves you without meaning to.

"You're not nosy at all", he chides, resting his beer bottle against her foot. She tugs it away and shakes her head at him.

"Just curious", she grins. "Just curious."

Yeah. Just curious. You pray to god that just curious won't one day expose the little secret you've got going on with Jake. Next time, you'll really have to be more careful with your nails.

[simplyreveries]

Diasomnia boys with a reader that's really prone to panic attacks, but hides it really well?

Like, sometimes they get really jittery and stuff, but that's just them being them! It gets better, usually. If not, they go to the bathroom chill, even when they're literally going to die inside.

And they kinda knew cause they went on a boat date, then they just kinda started saying they were uncomfortable and stuff and they ended up having a huge panic attack, like how would they react?

malleus draconia

he is very observant, especially over someone like you. it's his own way of showing care and affection if anything. malleus usually seems to have a watchful eye over you-- your wellbeing is something he finds really important to him. he can quite easily tell how nervous and how much anxiety building up in you. with that being, however, he is a bit... awkward showing how much he does want to help you. he doesn't understand that part well. now, he doesn't express it, but it does he feels a strange and foreign sense of powerlessness because he wants to be able to magically take it all away.

malleus is incredibly gentle; he does go out of his way to still try even though he can't fully solve it for you. when he notices the jitteriness or even as soon as you seem to be unable to focus, if you're alright with the touch- he'll carefully slip his hand to hold yours and trace his thumb over the top of your hand. he will give you reassuring affirmations or looks. though, he tends to just slip you away from whatever you're around and give you the best sense of peace he can.

with that being said, that's what he prompts to- he knows you seemed to feel somewhat better during your times with him outside ramshackle at night, where you may find comfort just trying to ease your breathing outside. he'll be there, quiet but someone for you if you wish to speak. and once again, because this is still new for him- whatever you want practically goes because he just ultimately wants you to feel better. so even if that's space, stay in silence, or talk about something else to get your mind off it. he will gladly give any of it.

lilia vanrouge

lilia already has this caring and doting nature around him- and that always applies to you. he can sense what you're feeling from a mile away. he knows you so well already and only wants nothing more than to help you. lilia genuinely wants to be someone you can lean and rely on. despite the trouble or teasing to others he can bring- he is very careful around you. especially during the aftermath of any of them, he is ready to be there.

he is always seeming to check on you. when you seem to be bouncing your leg, fidgeting, biting your lip or nails- very quick to notice- he'll calmy hush a "do you want my help, dearest?" something of that sorts and give a reassuring smile. he never wants you to feel bad for it and make it any kind. he also wants the approval from you if you want or need him around to ease yourself.

when you've dealt with one, carefully, he'll try to ease and calm you down after the adrenaline high you were just experiencing. he'll always seem to have a caring smile on his face when he asks if you''ll let him hold you for a moment. i have a feeling his hugs, with the addition of soft humming or strokes are the epitome of safe.

silver

at first, he was new to handling these kinds of things- he felt completely unsure how to help when all he wanted to do was do just that. much like malleus, but honestly, probably even more so- his quiet nature can most likely prove to be some help when it comes to your panic nature. anything he says or does, even if he is a bit internally worried about how to handle it himself, is so gentle and soothing. it hurts him seeing how much you have to deal with- so he'll do everything and anything he can for you. in moments especially where you're talking to others and feeling anxious, he'll take over for you.

silver is protective by default; it only heightens around you. he wants nothing more than for you to be and feel safe. he is knight, he really couldn't push that part away from him if he tries. in the midst of the moment his focus is solely onto you. if you'd allow him, he hold your hands and let you squeeze them as tight as you want, trying to help guide you through it the best way he can. even if it's difficult and you feel like a mess, he is right there with a worried look and this aching desire to fix it for you.

after it slowly wears of, he might recommend and try coaxing you to fall asleep. he doesn't leave your side if your comfortable enough to allow yourself to. he'll lightly trace your arm and try to have you match your breathing with his.

sebek zigvolt

sebek would probably have the most confused time trying to help you- not in a bad way- like anyone else he wants to help you, but he has zero clue how to even begin the first few times. he gets so concerned and when he gets worried it comes out as loud unintentionally. or maybe even aggressive to others in a sense of thinking someone was bothering you. and clearly that's the last thing you would need, so he tries his best to be more cautious of himself for you. there are times where he's been kneeled in front of you sitting looking up to you with a "tell me what i can do for you" attitude. he gets so serious,,,

like silver, he's a knight and wants you with a sense of security- he doesn't want to feel like he failed you on that. he would go out of his way after he starts to slowly understand them- to spend his spare time reading about it and even go to lilia for help on comfort. so, at times like this during an instance on a date he would be ready all the more.

him trying to help you does feel rather by-the-book scientific ways of helping you get through it. but he genuinely tries and is solemn about it. he does stumble a bit nervously sometimes, because he still can't quite think straight when you're experiencing anything sorts of bad. but sebek does his absolute best.

[etheries1015]

Twisted wonderland characters : Would they wait until marriage? Shit post 18+ minors dni

Featuring: trey, leona, epel, vil, malleus, Lilia, Idia, Azul, Cater, Jade, Floyd, Rook

Warnings: 18+ , not proofread

Trey- probably not, thinks about it, but in the end it doesn't matter if yall wait or not he knows you're the one he WILL marry, so doing it now, doing it then...makes no difference to him

Leona- no

Leona- okay but seriously be probably told his family that y'all are waiting (being apart of royalty or whatever I guess) but no, the second you have an opening he is tearing your clothes off and having his way with you.

Epel- I'd say yes because it seems like maybe it'd apart of his family values, I dunno. But you could probably convince him otherwise ngl, his resolve isnt too strong in this aspect

Vil- Is very gentlemenly but doesn't wanna wait. He loves going to down on you after a rough day of work, taking the days stress out on your body

Azul- not waiting one bit. He loves to study you, your body, your legs, your other extremeties. Also possessive as fuck, so will leave light marks on your body afterwards

Malleus- Probably says he will, until he gets into a heat (a dragon thing that I decided is cannon) and loses control. Haha yeah no, he has such a breeding kink he is stuffing you to the brim. But he apologizes profusely afterwards and pouts "are you sure you still want to marry such an impatient fae such as myself?" ...shut up and breed MC again.

Lilia- prolly won't get married ever, so he's down for it whenever. He's playing video games and you get the horny? "Lilia pls" "after this raid hold on" "but I can't" you guys are so open sexually that you can honestly not be embarrassed asking to try new things with him either.

Riddle - absolutely waiting. His pride. Won't. Let. Him. He must practice being patient and refuses to allow himself upon you until he feels confident in his future and your relationship.

Idia- you see that pile of hard dried socks next to that anime body pillow? Yeah. You're his sock replacement.

Cater- Nope. Probably asks to record it too. Maybe sell it on only fans and get some money

Jade- also probably asking to record it. I have no basis for this but I think he genuinely would.

Floyd- Hahahaha no and I will not elaborate

Rook- Actually maybe. I think he would hold out for like, two years, but not without giving him a few blowjobs and handjobs, and he using his skilled hands on yourself...but not actually inserting himself until marriage. I dunno. Just feels right for him.

--

Thats all thanks for reading tell me ur thoughts in the comments like and subscribe and share ur own headcannons

Also here's my masterlist for more of my works

[simpjaes]

enha is desperate horny losers 🔛🔝

i know you probably didn't ask for this but idc

hyung line being desperate and horny

warnings: one mention of piss, virginity loss, mdni

★ heeseung:

sure, he can be desperate. an utter mess, really. eyes empty, cock so fucking hard just looking at you anytime you're around him. as if you don't know he wants you, him knowing you fucking do.

you tease him so aggressively and it pisses him off knowing he can't have you. he's not allowed, or some shit. fuck bro code. he could give less of a fuck that you belong to sunghoon right now, by next week it'll probably be some loser like jake or something.

never him though, for some reason.

he's so tired of going home all alone, fucking his fist right up against his apartment door because he can't manage to make it to his own bedroom before needing the touch. so desperate for you. so goddamn horny out of his mind that he genuinely thinks he might just fucking kill himself if you don't spread your legs for him for real within the next three minutes.

always trying to lure you, always always always wanting you to break before he does. after all, anyone can see you want him too. you just like to play games and he's sick of it. perhaps he's willing to lose this time, if just to get your legs spread around him.

it wouldn't really be a surprise to you by the time you make your way to his place yet again, in that same outfit that you know drives him up a wall. you know you're walking into a lion's den when you step inside. he's already hard, staring at you with narrowed eyes.

"you know exactly what you're doing walking through my door dressed like that." he'd comment. "you think i won't do it, don't you?"

you'd laugh. you'd brush him off. you'd ignore every passing comment thinking you can still tease him, thinking you can still walk away like you're doing nothing to him at all.

it's not a game to him at this point though, because he made himself very clear throughout the day with little comments. little aggressive touches. little degrading remarks. and by the time you think you're safe to leave? oh, no no.

"where do you think you're going?" you'd hear him rush up behind you. "i told you."

he did tell you, and you still stayed.

"Sunghoon's going to kick your ass for acting like this, you know."

"Still trying to make fucking jokes?" He'd rumble the words in a tight voice, slipping his hand straight between your legs from behind and feeling the mess you hide from him time and time again.

"You always this soaked for me or did you just piss yourself in my kitchen?"

"Sunghoon-"

"Fuck Sunghoon." He'd say as if it's the last words you'll ever hear. "This-" he grabs your cunt, his fingers pressing your panties into your hole. "is for me, isn't it?"

☆ jay:

it's not even embarrassing anymore. with the way you know jay wants you and you still pretend like he doesn't. like this friendship is normal and not at all filled with an immense amount of sexual tension.

like you didn't makeout with him at jake's party last weekend, whispering drunken words over what you'd let him do to you.

honestly, it wasn't anything more than a simple friendship before that happened. he isn't sure whether to curse the strong drink or thank it.

you've acted like it never happened since that night but he, oh, he can't stop fucking thinking about those filthy words you whispered up against his ear. "come on, jay, all those study sessions? i keep my legs spread just enough for you to slip your fingers down-" and "could take me to the bathroom right now and do whatever you want."

he's pissed that he didn't do it. then again, you were drunk and so was he. he probably wouldn't have been able to make his way to the bathroom that night without crashing his head through a wall, in all honesty.

oh, but now. as he sits during another study session with you plus two other people who could give less of a shit. you were right in saying you always keep your legs spread for him. he never noticed it too often before, but considering he can feel your thigh pressing against him? maybe you really do want him to slip his hand down. maybe you really do want his fingers.

goddamn.

he hasn't gotten his dick wet in months.

still, you act like what you said at that party never happened at any other time. still, you sit like you hope he remembers it. and, well, he's desperate enough at this point to at least try. right there in front of the group.

his hand slips to your thigh, and his brain is no longer focused on formulas. instead, he's entirely in his head about the little shocked jolt your body does in response. he almost pulls his hand back but he can fucking feel your skin prickle under his palm. it's enough to keep his hand there, petting up, up, up.

his hands are shaking when he looks at you, cock twitching and weak in his pants just like his brain every time you make eye contact with him. you spread your legs a little more as he looks at you, urging him to keep going. unfortunately, the poor guy looks like he's holding back due to the, uh, situation regarding the two other friends in the room.

you're quick to jump up on your feet. fucking finally he's picked up the hints.

"i'm going to the bathroom." you say as you lay a hand on his shoulder, only directing the words towards him at first before looking up to your unsuspecting study group.

jay isn't going crazy right? that's an invitation, right?

and, well, he doesn't fucking care at this point to make himself look a fool. he stands up before you even close the bathroom door and dead-pans at the poor souls about to hear him lose his goddamn mind on you.

"I'm gonna, uh, you know-" he starts, pointing his thumb to the bathroom and watching the curious onlookers swap their faces to something that is...knowing.

"yeah." he admits now, standing with a proud hard-on and rushing his way straight the bathroom and opening the door.

There you are, already up on the counter with your pants fucking gone. He's so fast to slot himself between your legs, not thinking twice before attaching his lips to you in a desperate attempt to quiet his thoughts.

"took you long enough," you'd chuckle into his lips, feeling his desperate hands fucking tear your panties off of you before sliding in without so much as a moment of foreplay.

you both were anticipating this though. and god, did the wait make it feel so much better.

★sunghoon:

sunghoon will never defeat the allegations of being "too polite". which fucking sucks because no girl will come for him unless they're looking to get married within the next six months.

god, it's such a fucking issue. his scene isn't exactly to go out and hunt for girls to fuck but at this point he might just have to. fuck all those people who talk so highly of him. (literally, if he could at this point.)

"oh! sunghoon is such a good guy! he'd be the perfect boyfriend!"

"don't even waste your time trying to sleep with sunghoon, he's too serious to play around like that."

"he's too nice to fuck you the way you want, really, go for someone like heeseung."

because of all that praise towards him, he hasn't gotten laid in close to a year. no party he's attended has yielded results, no study sessions with pretty girls even when he tries to make a move, no pussy is willing to spread for a man who seemingly would treat it right.

fucking rude.

"jay, please."

the roommate rolls his eyes, grimacing at the very idea.

"why her?" jay shoots back, holding his phone so tightly, all while sunghoon grips his wrist as if he's gonna rip it clean off his body.

he needs that fucking phone.

"you said she was a real slut, i need this. please. I won't even clean her up after."

jay can see the desperation in his eyes, though he didn't entirely need to considering his roommate has been parading around with a desperate boner for the better part of six months.

"she's my ex girlfriend." jay scolds, ripping himself from sunghoon's grasp.

"exactly!" he shouts back, trying to plead his case. "she had like, what? six dicks not including yours when she was with you? why can't I just-"

"what makes you think i'd help you now after saying that?" jay rolls his eyes again, but he knows well enough how it feels to have heavy balls and no girl to empty them into. "anyone but her."

sunghoon's eyes light up when he looks at his friend, and it's not even a full ten minutes later before he's got a list of potential fucks recommended by jay himself. sunghoong does have to ignore the hateful looks after the fact, but decides he'll just apologize later for...you know, trying to go for jay's ex.

why he didn't do this sooner though? well, he really thought he'd be able to get some girls to come to bed with him on his own by now, unfortunately, he's grown far too pathetic to keep trying on his own.

jay's truly a great friend. just yesterday sunghoon was jerking off a solid eight times just to satiate the need and now he's got four of the six girls texting him back.

god, he was so gross about it too. barely even introduced himself, just sent a selfie and a small line of "been looking for a pretty girl to hang out with, jay say you might be interested."

going from 0 choices to 4 choices felt insane, honestly. sunghoon nearly cums in his pants at getting a "yes" from the prettiest one. and it only took an hour for him to hear jay greet you awkwardly. like he didn't have his dick in you just last week.

and goddamn is it great for him. he barely lets you into his room before his hands are just fucking....going. straight up your shirt, his lips go straight to your neck, cock immediately on your thigh and pulsing.

you're not too upset about it, really. you both knew what this was gonna be, and there was a reason you didn't wear panties. then again, who would? you saw his selfie, that alone was enough to get you to meet him pretty much anywhere.

and that desperation in him really showed. it bubbled up in the form of frantic, hard, fast thrusts. he chased and chased the pleasure, not at all giving you much love through it. not that you needed it, the guy gives good dick. It's all you can really ask for during a hookup.

and he keeps going, and going. so much cum to give, so much stamina. to the point that after the second session of sex, he starts to feel more like himself.

the sex gets better, less frantic, and he's more careful about how he's already made you sore. his hands are softer, he starts talking, he starts playing with you, appreciating you for letting him use you previously.

and by the next morning, not getting a single second of sleep, you're shocked when he asks for your number. you're even more shocked when he texts you later that day with more appreciation, asking to go to fucking lunch.

and that's when sunghoon realizes all those nice rumors about him are fucking true. because why the fuck does he want to make you his girlfriend without so much as learning your favorite color?

☆ jake:

jake loves you. he loves you so, so much. your virginity was never an issue, truly it wasn't.

emphasis on wasn't.

when he asked you to be his some two years ago, it wasn't an issue. a year into the relationship, it got a little difficult but he communicated that to you well enough. to the point that you were more than happy to compromise and offer a little bit of something to him. you got plenty out of it too, of course.

so, for a year now he's been surviving off of dry humping. that's it. just...grinding, humping, and messy jeans. time and time again, he knows it's all he's gonna get but fucking hell you're so...

god, you make him so horny. and perhaps you being just out of reach sexually only amplifies that but he can't help it at this point. sure, he cums every time you guys start grinding and kissing but more often than not you'll find him secretly in your bathroom shortly after with wet palms trying to stimulate himself in a way that he really needs.

in a way where he isn't rubbed raw and in pain the next morning.

he doesn't want to push. he won't push you. after all, you said you'd tell him when you're ready.

at this point, as he sits in his room sliding his palm up and down his sore length, he's unsure if you'll ever be ready and he's faced with the fact that he isn't sure if he can spend his life with someone who would never want him to-

his eyes roll back at the thought of all the things he'd like to do with you. for you. fuck, you'd look so pretty getting off. and it's the fact that even as he lays here thinking of you like this, he can't imagine what your tits would look like because he hasn't fucking seen them. he can't imagine what your pussy would feel like because he's only ever felt it over a thick layer of pants.

have you ever even gotten wet? if you had, he's sure you would've wanted it by now.

and so, he cums like that. very very upset. a very bad orgasm. one that didn't satisfy him in the slightest and one that definitely won't help him last through this fucking sleepover he has with you tonight.

he's unfortunately right about it too. because not even an hour passes before his cock is leaking against his pants and he's having to keep from moaning just from a simple shift of his leg as he walks around your apartment.

you note his difficulty in being around you today, and you're very aware of his hard on.

"jake, do you want me to sit on y-"

he groans before you can even finish asking. the sound is more frustrated than he's ever sounded towards you and it kinda...makes you feel bad. mostly because it's not like you don't think about it. you very much want to experience your first time with him. unfortunately, you've kind of had it hammered into your head that sex=bad. so, you've been a little afraid of it. though, after all the dry humping and stuff, orgasms aren't....so bad.

they're great, actually.

"no." jake answers you shortly, avoiding eye contact with you probably to keep his own sanity as he flops down on your couch. "i just need to cool down."

you walk over to him, unaware of how literally anything you do makes him want to push you to the floor and just fucking........take it.

"jake, you know you can ask. just let me sit on it." you offer, trying to straddle his lap for another session of not-enough.

"no, no." he pushes you away from him, moaning at the small pressure you did manage to press against him. "i think i just need, like, more than that right now. i'm gonna go to the bathroom."

and he does. he doesn't even kiss you before he stands up and makes his way in there. his tone sounds so focused on something that isn't you that it actually kind of hurts.

and this whole time you know he masturbates but you're never aware that he does it when you're here. he blatantly admitted to needing to go do it himself instead of letting you??? what the fuck??

and it kinda clicks in your head that like.....why is it that the fear of all that sex suddenly disappears when you think about the jake is probably going fucking insane right now? he's possibly losing interest in you, even. oh my god, what if he's going to go find someone else that'll ....

you rush to the bathroom, finding the door locked. you press your ear against it, feeling a pang of jealousy over nothing more than his own hand.

you hear the slapping of it, his palm hitting the base at a frantic and desperate pace.

you knock once. "jake?"

you hear him moan, the slapping only intensifying.

"jake, open the door. please?"

and he doesnt. he finishes before he even considers looking at you again, more for your own safety at that point rather than his own sanity. after all, had you of walked in and looked at him in the midst of a lust-stupor...well...

anyway, he opens the door and looks at you out of breath. instantly that softness is back in his eyes and you're already aware that it's time for a fucking talk. a make it or break it talk.

and hours pass as you talk. you explain, he explains, and you come to realize that jake truly is a person willing to do just about anything for you. he'd suffer for you, he'd lock himself in the bathroom just to cum so he doesn't have to ask you over and over again, just so he doesn't have to beg you or guilt you.

that's all it took really, to want to give him everything he needs too. two years of close to nothing and you never once realized how badly he needed it until now?

and the fear isn't there when it's with him. you see him struggle with his control when he finally sees your naked skin for the first time. you know he wants to go fucking insane on you but he knows he can't.

and he doesn't. he shows you that all those fears were useless. nothing hurts. his fingers are soft on you, in you. his tongue is warm and loving when he uses it all over you. and even when he slides into you for the first time, he contains himself. shushing you, letting you adjust, and then not needing to lose his mind because you do it for him.

working him about as quickly as he would have for you, never once did you realize how much you needed to feel full while enveloped in his arms. he just let you too, sliding back and forth, wiggling around on his cock with no rhyme or reason to how you move.

it feels so fucking good for him. to see you, feel you, watch you, fuck you. god, if he knew just this morning that this is what he was missing?? on god he would have had to tie himself up to just keep you safe from the lust that would've poured from his soul.

thankfully, he doesn't need to be tied down now. not with your legs practically doing it already, moaning for him, asking him for more.

he loves the words he truly thought he'd never be able to hear you say. honestly, all he can do is let you go insane, as if you've been the one needing this for the past two years. after all, now that it's happening, he's sure he'll have you like this again if the way you move your body on him is anything to go by.

[torakowalski]

(part one | part seven)

"Yes," says Eddie when Steve cups his face with one strong hand.

He says, "Yes," when Steve kisses him too. Says, "Yes," again, when Steve slides his free hand into Eddie's armpit and pulls him up onto the bed.

They land with a bounce, Eddie half under Steve. He looks at Steve, gorgeous and pink-cheeked, braced above him, lips still slightly parted, and says, "Wait."

Shit, he is not a fan of himself, right now.

Steve waits. He leans back a little, looking like he's bracing himself for whatever Eddie's about to say.

"What's happening?" Eddie asks. "Don't say kissing."

Steve pouts like Eddie is robbing him of all his simple pleasures. "I, uh, I mean I'm not totally sure." He bites his lip. "I wanted to kiss you, so I did."

Okay, Eddie is calm. Eddie is calm about Steve wanting to kiss him.

"Weird reaction to making the team?" he guesses.

Steve scrunches up his face, like he's thinking about it. "I don't think so. I wanted to kiss you before I made the team."

"You... did?"

Steve is still very much hovering above Eddie. It seems like he might not have noticed that he's basically doing a plank while having this conversation. Stupid swimmer's arms. His t-shirt is hanging down, away from his stomach, and Eddie desperately wants to touch his bare skin. He bets he's really, really warm there.

"How long before?" Eddie adds, without giving Steve time to answer the first question.

"Since you cheered for me," Steve says, which doesn't narrow it down at all, until it does. "I fucked up my first couple of races, but then I saw you yelling for me from the stands, and I thought I can't wait to kiss him for that, later. Took me an extra couple seconds to realise that we don't kiss, and then I couldn't think of a good reason why not."

That was maybe two hours ago, and that's only if Eddie is feeling generous with time.

"Steve, you can't just..."

"I know," Steve interrupts. "I know I'm supposed to take time to freak out and panic and think about what this _means_ and worry about all the things that Robin worries about, but I'm just... You know me, I do things, I don't think about them first. I really don't feel any need to think about this, either."

He looks down at Eddie with his big, dark eyes all genuine and sincere. And yup. Yup Eddie is going to get his heartbroken so very badly.

Eddie shakes his head at himself and his own stupid decision making. "A good person would say you need to take your time and not rush into this." Steve looks genuinely disappointed, which Eddie cannot stand. "I, however, am the son of Satan, remember?"

"Oh, shucks, I thought you were just a Satan worshipper," Steve says. "I didn't realise you were like, Hell Jesus. You should have said something."

Eddie snorts a laugh. It's kind of gross honestly, but Steve just smirks. Fucker.

"Put that face to better use and kiss me," Eddie orders. He's glad he sounds confident because he does not feel it.

Steve's smirk because a smile, all sunny and surprised. "Yeah?"

"Just until you come to your senses." Eddie reaches up, puts his hand on the back of Steve's neck. His hair is damp against Eddie's palm and his skin is smooth and hot.

"That's gonna be a while, I think," says Steve. He lowers himself down onto his elbows so their chests are barely a breath apart, presses a kiss to Eddie's mouth.

It's not Eddie's first kiss or anything, but it's definitely within his first... three kisses. He hopes like hell he's doing it right. At first, it's closed mouths, lips moving gently together but then Eddie feels a burst of total daring and parts his lips. Steve hums happily and dips the tip of his tongue into Eddie's mouth.

Fuck, holy fuck, this is really happening. Eddie can taste Steve's spit. That never happens in his dreams.

He hears himself make a noise and his hand clenches, squeezing the nape of Steve's neck. He squirms a little, gets his other arm around Steve's back, hand flat just above the waistband of his pants.

Steve makes a very happy hum, licks into Eddie's mouth, and then they're definitely not just kissing; this is definitely making out.

Eddie's hard in seconds, but this isn't the time, so he's gonna ignore that. It's more difficult to ignore how fast his nipples go tight, aching with it until all he can do is pull Steve down, press up into him, until they're chest to chest.

He wishes their shirts would melt away. He wants Steve's skin against his own. Preferably, he wants all of Steve's thick, ridiculous chest hair for this half-hour of madness, but he'll take the smooth, waxed version too.

"Ed," Steve says into his mouth. His fingers have knotted in Eddie's hair. "Eddie, can we lose our shirts?"

"Are you an actual mind reader?" asks Eddie, which just makes Steve laugh.

Steve sits up, grabs the back of his t-shirt, and is just above to pull it over his head when the room phone rings.

They both freeze.

"Fuck. Dinner," Steve says, eyes wide. Eddie hadn't realised he'd forgotten about it; that's pretty gratifying.

Eddie grabs the phone, since it seems the gentlemanly thing to do.

"Where are you?" Dustin whines. "We're starving."

"Eat bread sticks," Eddie tells him, watching sadly as Steve lets his t-shirt settle back down around his body.

"We've eaten them all," Dustin says. "What are you even doing? You've been ages."

Eddie flops backwards onto the bed. He knew making out with Steve wasn't going to last, but he thinks the universe could have let him have a little more time with it.

"Team USA here has to do his hair all pretty," he lies, sending Steve an apologetic look.

Steve rolls his eyes.

Judging by the noise Dustin makes, he does the same.

"Well, tell him to hurry up. Your uncle just called Ma 'ma'am,' and she giggled. I need back-up."

Huh. Go Uncle Wayne. "We're hurrying," he promises. "Order without us and we'll be there stat."

"I'm ordering the steak," Dustin says, like he thinks Eddie is the one paying and hangs up.

Steve has moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He gives Eddie a wonky smile. "We really should get ready to go."

Eddie rubs his hands over his face and doesn't let himself think about whether Steve sounds regretful. (He really does think Steve might sound regretful.)

"Yeah. Apparently my uncle is flirting with Mrs Henderson, and Dustin's at risk of both a stroke and starvation."

"God forbid he reacts to something calmly," Steve says, a smile still in his voice. "I'll go shower."

He stands up. Then he sits down again. He reaches out and curls his long fingers around Eddie's wrist. "I haven't come to my senses yet."

"Hm?" Eddie asks.

"You said, you said you'd kiss me until I came to my senses. I still feel totally senseless, so maybe we could kiss more after dinner?"

Fuck. How is Eddie supposed to eat now? Or hold a conversation like a normal person.

"Um," he says. "I, uh. I did say that, and I never go back on my word."

Steve squeezes Eddie's wrist then briefly tangles their fingers together. "Wanna shower together?"

He bounces his eyebrows, so Eddie doesn't think he's serious. It makes him want to say yes just to see what Steve would do. Except he knows what Steve would do, he'd go through with it, and neither of them are ready for that.

"Not on our first date," he says. "Hit me up when you've got a gold medal, and we'll see."

"Maybe I'll hold you to that," Steve says. He gets up and heads off to the shower, whistling as he goes.

(continued here)

[amomentsescape]

Can I request a Yandere Slashers with an S/O like Patrick Bateman (She is a rich narcissist, arrogant with others, always treating others as if they were inferior, but with the slashers she is sweeter, always showing affection for them)

Yandere! Slashers with Patrick Bateman-esque Reader

Slashers x Reader

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, Bo, & Lester

Warnings: Some foul language

A/N: I love this request! Thank you, and I hope you like it! (No mentions of Reader pronouns in the fic itself)

Freddy Krueger

Honestly, Freddy finds it pretty funny (like most things)

He too is an asshole to pretty much anyone other than you

So together, you make quite the duo

He won't admit it, but there are times where you're honestly kind of scary

The way you can say the most traumatizing thing to someone without so much as blinking has him a little frazzled

Even he chuckles or shows some type of emotion

But when you're both alone, it becomes a different story

It's the only time he sees you smile and really relax

To think that you'd so much as hug someone is insane, but Freddy gets to see that side to you

It honestly just makes him trust you more

Knowing that he's the only one you're actually nice to puts his mind at ease

It's even gotten to the point where he feels comfortable letting you have some freedom during the day

He's still watching, of course, but he knows he has nothing to worry about

Michael Myers

He's probably the most similar to you out of everyone you've ever met

(It's why he became attached to you in the first place)

Seeing you say the most evil things to people without showing any emotion, and using your money just for yourself stirred something in him

And it still does

The connection was so immediate that he learned to trust you pretty quickly

He still likes to follow you whenever he gives you some "alone time"

But what originally started out as trust issues soon turned into entertainment

He likes seeing you move so confidently about your day and scaring all those around you

The way your presence alone silences a room is enchanting to him

And since he doesn't really like to go out much during the day, he gets to live vicariously through you

And when you come home with a smile and a quick kiss, it secretly melts him

You are perfect for him

Jason Voorhees

When he first got to you, his ability to trust you was hardly there

You seemed so cold and uncaring

It seemed impossible for you to return his feelings

But over time, he began to see you show more kindness and affection towards him

He was confused and just assumed that you were trying to gain his trust so you could leave him

But then he saw how you acted when he "wasn't" around

Whatever side he got to see of you wasn't the side you showed to everyone else

Because of this, you began to make him feel special

And his walls came crumbling down the as soon as they were put up

You spoil him, in his opinion

Lavish gifts, kisses, genuine laughs, and just overall attention has Jason melting in your hands

He honestly doesn't even care if it's just an act anymore

He's addicted to how special you make him feel

Plus, there's no way he's ever going to let you go anyways

Thomas Hewitt

It came as quite the shock when you were actually nice to him

He was enamored by you, clearly

But he saw the way to treated others as below you

It was a risk for him to take you as his in the first place

But when he noticed the little gleam in your eyes while looking at him, he knew he was locked in for good

He lets you initiate the affection most of the time, and he'll never say no to you

He even feels pretty comfortable letting you go into town and do what you want

He knows how you act around others, so there's no doubt in his mind that you wouldn't try to betray him

Plus, he loves the gifts you come home with after a day out

He's never owned anything nice before, so he truly feels like he's in heaven with you

You just can't ever act cold towards him

Even if he does something to anger you, you can't lash out

He will not hesitate to lock you in your shared room for the whole day if he sees it necessary

He likes your cold demeanor only when it's not directed at him

The moment it is, he will become immediately wounded

Bubba Sawyer

This poor man doesn't know any difference

You could step on his face and he'd be giggling

So he barely even notices your sour attitude with other people

He just thinks you're perfect no matter what you say or do

You can literally see hearts in his pupils when he looks at you

But thankfully, you actually enjoy your time with Bubba

The simplest touch or compliment given by you has Bubba kicking his feet and blushing

And when other people are around, you could call them the meanest name in the book, and he'd just be all smiley and giddy

He really is all around innocent

However, this sweetness only lasts for as long as you stay in the house with him

If you need to grab some things from the store or want to walk around by yourself for a bit, it comes with a price

He will beg, cry, and plead with you to stay

It doesn't matter how cold and uncaring you are with everyone else, he doesn't want you going anywhere

But if you insist, expect him to be pouty and silent around you for the rest of the day

But don't worry, by morning it's like it never even happened

Brahms Heelshire

Your calm and callous demeanor only fuels Brahms possessiveness

He loves how cruel you can be with others

And the money you have is fitting to him (having been raised a rich boy himself)

He'd prefer if you didn't interact with anyone at all, but he supposes your hatefulness makes up for that

Oh but when you come home with a big smile and arms outstretched for a hug, he becomes putty

He'll hold you for hours without so much as a motion to move

He loves that he's the only one that gets to see you like this

But just be careful

Brahms likes making up situations in his head

If he thinks you so much as blinked one too many times around someone, he will go berserk

He loves that you're cruel to everyone but him, but if he's having an off day, it's easy for him to see things that didn't actually happen

And once he has that thought in his head, it's hard to convince him otherwise

If he thinks you weren't being cold enough to someone, he will not hesitate to lock them in the house and place you right in front of them, making you do the dirty work

It doesn't faze you much thankfully, but it can become a bit annoying

Especially when your $800 shoes get blood on them

Norman Bates

Kindness is the number one policy in Mother's book

So he really isn't a fan on how you treat other people

Treating other's cruelly and not even attempting to share your wealth is all immoral in Norman's mind

He's tried having so many conversations to you about how you should be kinder

But his voice always falls on deaf ears

You'd think he'd be sick of it by now

But the main reason he can't give you up is because of how sweet you are towards him

You litter him with affection and sweet words

You gift him with just about everything he's ever wanted

He knows it's wrong, but he's addicted to how you make him feel

Could it all be an act on your part? Sure

But he barely cares, to be honest

He knows you'll be the death of him, but he truly can't imagine a better way to go out

Billy Loomis

He hates to admit it, but he finds it oh so sexy

You're quick with your words, and the slight raise of a brow is all it takes for someone to crumble to their knees around you

The control you have is awe-inspiring to him

And the fact that you become his little love bug at home only makes it more exciting

Seeing you go from rude and cruel one moment to sweet and kind the next keeps things interesting for Billy

He truly believes that most of humanity doesn't deserve the attention of people like you or him

You're both too good for them

With that being said, Billy's "body count" has gone up drastically since he claimed you

You're mean to someone? They deserve to die

You're a little too nice to a guy? He had it coming

Someone so much as bumps into you on the street? They'll be gone by the end of the night

He swears you're making him even crazier than before

But God, he loves it

Stu Macher

Look, Stu is all about hating other people

As lighthearted and goofy as he is, he really can't stand a lot of people

The amount of times he's murdered some stranger over and over again in his mind is outrageous

So he gets it

But at the same time, suspicion easily arises from people who see how outwardly cold you are

He's asked you time and time again to "lighten up," but it never changes anything

Which is why he's always so astounded by how you are when you both are alone

You laugh at all of his jokes, you plant his face full of kisses, and you even share his love for horror films

How you act with him is how he wishes you'd act in public

But at the same time, he kind of likes how two-sided you are

There's a part of him that loves being the only one who receives your kindness

It just makes it taste that much more sweet to him

And to be honest, if you ever did act nice to someone other than him, his whole mind would go dark

And you'd never hear from that person again

Vincent Sinclair

Contrary to what many people would assume, Vincent enjoys your callousness towards others

He hasn't come across many people during his life, but those he has met have always shown him nothing but disgust and hatred

Even his own brothers have ridiculed him and ordered him around like he was a slave (mostly Bo, but Lester has had his moments)

This only fueled a true hatred for most of humanity

It's a large part of the reason he set his sights on you in the first place

You stirred something in him, and he knew there was no going back from that feeling

But the way you acted around him was quite the surprise

You spoke so softly to him and touched him like you were a true angel on earth

You made him feel so special in a way that no one else had

There's no way he was ever going to let you go

It just feels so nice to have someone on his team for once

Your glare is so cold that even Bo doesn't want anything to do with you

Vincent has gotten his first taste of respect, and he only wants more

Bo Sinclair

He's always wanted his partner to have a little fire to them

But damn, you were a hell of a lot more than just a flame

He was drawn to you like a moth, and seeing how mesmerizing yet cruel you could be was like the total package to him

Anytime you told someone off, he'd just be standing back saying "that's my darlin' right there"

And at first, he didn't want to believe that you were being genuine when you cuddled up to him or gave him a passionate kiss on the lips

He thought is was all a game, and he was happy to play

But after some time being met with this affection, he soon became convinced that maybe you actually did return his infatuation

And that opened up a whole new world

He loves to take you to a night out in the next town over, showing you off

And between the money he's stolen off of visitors and the riches you have in tow, you both splurge on each other like crazy

This is quite literally a dream relationship

And with how manipulative you could be, the wax museum was booming more than ever

He'd be dead before he'd let you leave

Lester Sinclair

He finds your arrogance and cruelty a little unnecessary at times

But he doesn't ever push you too hard on it

As long as you're nice to him, that's all that matters

In fact, he lets you do what you want whenever you want it

You could walk all over him, and he'd still thank you for it

However, escaping him will never be an option

You're his, and your happiness is his number one priority

Just so long it involves being with him

But he grew to trust you pretty quickly

You're just so kind and loving towards him that he can't imagine you ever leaving him

It just doesn't make sense, right?

Even if you did try to leave, all you have to do is give him a big kiss, and he'd forgive you

Just don't talk to other people for too long

Even if you're saying the most hateful things to them, that attention alone is enough to make Lester insecure

If you want to spew anger at someone, he'll happily take it

Your attention is all he desires after all, good or bad