#i am looking at shiver respectfully... 👀

[thelvadams]

SPLATOON 3 • dev. Nintendo

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

So does Jake always scent mark Ronnie whenever they see Bob bc he’s a jealous little bitch orrrrrr

👀👀🫣🫣 I am looking at it respectfully kee - it inspired a lil somethin somethin

word count: 791

warnings: jealous/possessive werewolf jake, mention of pregnancy, werewolf mating stuff, suggestive language

Of course, Jake asked how Ronnie was able to cover up his scent mark once everything was settled down. And of course, Ronnie wasn’t able to lie to him. She told him the honest truth. That Bob, sweet, kind Bob, had covered up his scent mark with one of his own. 

Jake lost it. He took her against the wall with a kind of feral, harsh need that had never been there before. His teeth scraped down her neck over and over despite knowing that he couldn’t scent mark her twice. The flesh was red for days afterward and it made him smile. Ronnie also couldn’t walk straight for days after and that made him smile too. 

She tried to assure him that Bob was always, and always would be, just a friend. He was only trying to help her. He saved her from being exposed to Bradley before she was ready. But it didn’t matter. That kind of offense, marking what wasn’t his, was like a scar that couldn’t fully heal over — that still ached from time to time. 

So even after their bond was settled, even after Bob found his own mate, even after she was nice and round with his pup — Jake still couldn’t let it go.

Even now, mingling at a pack get-together to celebrate the pup’s soon arrival, Jake had a possessive hand on Ronnie the entire night. Glaring around at all the other Blue River wolves that dared to get near her. She noticed, obviously. He wasn’t being subtle about it. Standing behind her the entire night, barely speaking two words to anyone who wasn’t Red Sky. Part of her wanted to be annoyed, but she understood his behavior. He was amongst wolves from a different pack (a pack that only a year ago wanted nothing more than to rip his throat out), in the presence of another Alpha, all while his Luna was at her most vulnerable. 

So really, she couldn’t find it in herself to be angry at him for being standoff-ish and guarded — especially when he pressed his chest into her back and put a protective hand on her large bump. 

Then Jake spotted Bob entering the house. He was late because he had to pick up his mate from work. A few of the Blue River wolves cheered when the pair walked in together. Not Jake. His grip on Ronnie only tightened when his eyes caught on the bespeckled wolf, following him intently as he made his way through the people with a smile on his face. 

Bob seemed to notice Ronnie first. His smile grew larger as he approached with a wave and his mate trailing behind him. Jake practically curled around Ronnie, hands sliding over the fabric of her sweater as he growled quietly — somewhere deep in his chest. 

Ronnie put her hand over his on the expanse of her belly, looking over her shoulder at him with a furrowed brow. “Baby, what is it?”

Jake didn’t say anything in reply. Watching as Bob’s blue gaze finally jumped to the Red Sky Alpha looming over Ronnie’s shoulder, a pleased smile on his face when Bob stalled in approaching Ronnie by saying hello to Natasha. Bob kept glancing at them after that, throat bobbing nervously as he chatted. 

And Jake made sure he was watching, made sure his eye contact held, as he leaned down and dragged his sharp teeth over Ronnie’s neck. Jake knew what Bob must have felt when he scent-marked Ronnie, because he felt it every single time he did it. The thoughts of mine mine mine, the sudden urge to claim her in any way he could. He hated that Bob once thought that about his mate. He felt Ronnie shiver in his hold and he smirked as Bob ducked his head. 

That was about when Ronnie caught on to what he was doing, however. 

She pulled herself out of his grasp and turned to face him with her hands on her hips, eyebrows raised. “Jake Seresin, stop.”

“What? I’m not doing anything,” he replied, facade falling when she narrowed her eyes at him. 

“I know exactly what you’re doing.” She poked him in the chest, then held that finger up to his face. “It was one time. He helped me out when you couldn’t. So, I think you technically owe him one. Now…”

She dropped her hand from his face. “I’m gonna go talk to my friend Bob. You can either come with me — or stay here and pout.” 

Without another word she turned and started making her way through the people, one hand bracing her lower back. Jake whined softly as he watched her go for a moment. Then with a sigh, he followed after her.

[free-boundsoul]

I have an idea.. a proposal perhaps (i really need to stop saying that people are gonna figure out who I am because I say jt too much on my page and I'd be so fucking embarrassed)

NSFW promt/ask/idk

MOVING ON.

OK SO, D.A.M.N polycule right? Freelancer is home early and decides to get a rise out of their boyfriends, not knowing 2 would be home earlier than expected, they put on thigh highs and send a picture into their gc, you can have the boys thirsting/simping over them (respectfully)

Theyre all rushing to get work done to get home to them

The first two home are Huxley and Damien...

Yo-you csn

....decide what happens next 👀

(Ahhhh thank you so much for this request, sorry this took so long and I hope you like it!💜)

It was never a good thing when the Freelancer was bored. It didn’t happen often, not with all the classes they took and with four partners and a little empathy daemon as a brother, but it did happen from time to time. They’d studied ahead and gotten their assignments done for a few weeks, and Caelum was busy with his charges and couldn’t come by. Lasko was teaching, Gavin and Damien were in their classes, and Hux was at practice. They were on their own for hours. It wasn’t like they could start on dinner at noon. So when the mail arrived, they were pleasantly surprised to see a package they’d ordered. And an idea hit them. They definitely wouldn’t be bored anymore.

They grinned as they pulled the black thigh highs up, fingers smoothing down the lace as they admired how they looked. They paired them with Hux’s only button down shirt, it was big enough to cover them and they could still unbutton it to show off a little more skin. Just enough to be tempting. They settled on the picture they liked best and dropped it into the group chat.

The Freelancer’s stomach dropped when they heard the front door open. Muffled voices getting clearer as they got closer. “Damn bro, you must have ran from campus. You get that hot and bothered from the pic they sent?”

“Shut up! I was getting my cardio in, that was the only reason I was running.” Damien snapped out, looking up at Hux as they stood right outside their bedroom. The fire elemental turned to see them sitting on the bed, his lips quirking up. “Aren’t you going to welcome us home, brat?”

“I thought you wouldn’t be home until later?”

Hux chuckled as he stepped into the room “Practice let out early so I was already on the way home when I got the message.”

“My last class was cancelled. As unprofessional as it was, I will say I’m grateful to be able to leave early, just this once.” The fire elemental grinned, “I get to show you how much I appreciated your little picture.”

They gulped at the heat in his eyes, that look that they loved to see, that made heat pool in their gut and a shiver of trepidation going up their spine. Or was it anticipation? With Damien, it was mostly both. His fingers ghosted along their jaw, their head tilting up at that little bit of guidance. He tugged lightly at the collar of the shirt they had on, “Maybe I should burn off this off?”

“Hey now, hotstuff. I get that you’re excited but let them keep it. They’re cute with it on.” Hux grinned, one large hand resting on Damien’s shoulder.

“Tch, you just like it because they’re wearing your shirt.” He huffed, but he let go of the shirt. “Fine, they can keep it, and those…delightful stockings. Anything else isn’t needed, right, brat?”

“Aww, they aren’t a brat. They can be so obedient, so sweet. You want to be good for us, don’t you, baby?” Hux’s voice lowered, his smile saccharine but he knew that his words had those knots coiling inside them. They bit down on their lip, their head bobbing in a nod before they could really think of doing otherwise. They had such a hard time being a brat to the big guy, it really wasn’t fair when he looked at them like that.

“You can at least use your words when he asks you a question.” Damien’s fingers threaded through their hair, his blunt nails lightly scratching at their scalp as they leaned into the touch.

“I want to be good, sir.” They rasped out, their heart beating a staccato rhythm in their chest as his eyes darkened at the title, his grip tightening in their hair and drawing a whine from them.

“Don’t be so rough with them, hotstuff.”

“I’m not going to break them,” He rolled his eyes, placing one of his hands on the larger man’s chest and moving him back until he sat down on the bed. “Though you’d like it if we did that, wouldn’t you, doll? Want us to break you? Just leave you a whimpering, needy mess? Why don’t we show Hux just how durable you are?”

~◇~♤~

Damien’s mouth was on theirs, hot and hungry as he swallowed down the moans and whimpers that escaped them as they rolled their hips down. Hux’s hands were on their waist, the span of his fingers always made them feel small in comparison. Well, not just his hands. He filled them up so completely, just shy of being too much for them, but oh, they could never get enough of this feeling.

Their back pressed against Hux’s chest as Damien leaned into them, his hands on their thighs to keep them spread open, his fingers traced the edges of lace that pressed against their skin. Hux’s breath left him in a shuddering exhale right by their ear.

“Fuck, baby. You feel so good.” His grip tightened as his hips rolled up to meet them, they had to pull back from Damien to gasp in a breath, their fingers bunching into his shirt as they held onto his shoulders. “Shit, you’re so tight.”

Damien’s chuckle had them focusing back on him, even as the pleasure continued to build drop after drop and they were so close to overflowing. “You gonna cum again, doll?” His hand slid up their thigh to where they were hottest, drawing a gasp from them as their hips tried to buck forward to meet him.

Hux moaned, deep and guttural as his grip tightened, keeping them still and forced to take the onslaught from both of them. The earth elemental’s gentle yet steady rhythm and Damien’s persistent fingers turning their mind to a jumbled mess.

Damien’s searing lips at their neck, sucking and licking and somewhat burning, had them tumbling over the edge. They’re shattering around him, their body twitching and convulsing and their voice rising in their ecstasy.

The earth elemental grunted as they sent him over that edge as well, his face pressed against their shoulder as he rode out his high. Damien smiled as he watched his partners come back to themselves, both panting heavily, their skin flushed and their eyes dazed and fuck if they didn’t look magnificent like this.

Hux trailed gentle kisses up their shoulder as his fingers massaged their hips where bruises from his grip were already forming. “I told you they could take it.”

He chuckled softly at the smug tone the fire elemental’s voice carried, accepting the water bottle he was offered and taking a large swig. “Thanks, bro.”

The Freelancer blinked, a shiver going through them at the slight sting of aloe that Damien dabbed at their skin. “I got a little carried away, love. How do you feel?”

They smiled lazily as they pulled him in closer, kissing his cheek “Mmm, fuzzy-headed and jelly-boned.” They took a drink from the bottle Hux offered them.

“Good, let’s get you both cleaned-“ Damien blinked as their hands slid under his shirt, his inhale a little shaky as his words stalled at their touch and the look in their eyes as they leaned forward.

“We’re not done yet, Damie. Not until I return the favor.”

“Make that ‘we’, babe.” Huxley chuckled deeply as he reached around them to put his hand on Damien’s hip to draw him in closer. “Dinner might be a little late tonight.”

(@cottagecorexboy only because I hope he likes this)

[anthonyjlockwood]

1 and 3 as Luke/Willie? 👀

“Wanna talk about it?”

It’s uncharacteristically chilly outside; the skate park is dark and empty. Willie walks up to Luke slowly where he’s sitting on a bench, pout in full display, arms crossed against his chest.

Until he sees Willie approach, that is. And he brings with him a gust of wind that makes Luke shiver involuntarily, momentarily cursing the fact that he hadn’t bothered to bring one of his flannels out with him that night.

Willie stops in his tracks, staring at Luke with wide eyes. Like he’s an injured raccoon and Willie’s not sure if he should come any closer.

“You’re cold.”

“Am not.”

Willie stares at him a moment longer, probably judging if Luke is going to act like a rabid raccoon and attack him. Eventually, though, his shoulders relax.

“You’re wearing one of your show-off tanks in fifty degree weather,” Willie smirks. “And, like, yeah. I’m looking respectfully, but put on a jacket or something, dude.”

“You’ve known me for how long?” Luke asks skeptically. “You should know I don’t own a jacket.”

“Maybe this’ll help.” Willie holds up the bundle in his arms out towards Luke, and he sees it’s a hoodie – a gray one, with a coffee stain.

“I didn’t think you were all… weather-appropriate with your clothes, either.”

“It’s the middle of winter. I do own sweatshirts, you know.” Willie smiles crookedly. “Unlike some people.”

Willie runs his fingertips along Luke’s arm; the sensation makes him shiver all over again, and he takes the hoodie out of Willie’s hands and slips it over his head.

“Better?”

There’s a coffee stain on the sleeve, and Luke runs over it with his thumb. The sweater might be stained, but it’s warm and it smells like earth and sunshine. “I guess.”

Willie grins. “You guess? That’s my favorite sweatshirt providing you with warmth and comfort. You’d better appreciate it.”

Luke pulls it even tighter around his body. “I… I do, actually.”

“So what brings you to the skate park at…” Willie glances down at his watch, and looks back at Luke, eyebrows raised. “One-thirty in the morning?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

That’s… partially the truth, at least. Luke can never sleep. Insomnia took him in its clutches longer ago than he can remember, and it hasn’t let him go. But usually, the lack of sleep doesn’t bother him. He uses the time to write songs or listen to music or watch movies.

But that’s not the whole reason he’s at the skate park. He doesn’t actually know why he’s here; only that he let his restless feet take him somewhere because he couldn’t stand to stay in his bedroom. He’d rather be moving, even when the rest of the world is still.

Moving towards something, or moving away. It doesn’t matter. It’s the stillness that’s the problem.

“But why the skate park?” Willie prods gently. “Last I checked, you… don’t skate.”

Willie is right, but Luke doesn’t have a good answer. He just shrugs noncommittally, and Willie takes the motion as permission to continue speaking.

“I think… now, I’m not some all-knowing sage with all the secrets of the universe,” Willie says solemnly. “But I think maybe you came here ‘cause you wanted to be found.”

“At the skate park?”

“What’s bothering you, Luke?”

And… wasn’t that the million-dollar question. The truth is, it’s just a bad night. A night where music wasn’t sufficient in drowning out all the negative thoughts swirling around in Luke’s head. About the fights with his mom and the uncertainty of the band’s future.

Sometimes he has these nights, but he usually does a better job of hiding them from his friends. He goes to clubs where no one knows his name. Street corners where most people are too preoccupied with their own lives and problems to notice the sad melody coming out of his guitar, his calloused fingers restlessly plucking the strings.

Luke usually doesn’t want comfort on nights like these. Because he’s not really allowed to be upset. His friends have it so much worse. And because he’s supposed to be the strong, confident one. His sadness doesn’t really have an explanation that doesn’t involve his own recklessness and mistakes. So why should he get to feel it? Why should he bother his friends with it?

Willie wasn’t supposed to find him here, not really. The skate park… it’s a common place for Willie to be, sure, but Luke hadn’t really thought about running into him when he came here. It just felt right, like some outside force was calling on him to stop there and sit for a while.

Maybe that same force was what brought Willie there to him.

But Luke doesn’t want to think about forces right now. That would just add another layer of complex emotion on top of what he’s already feeling, and he has enough to be confused about tonight.

His worries about Willie can wait.

“Dunno,” he says finally. “It’s just… one of those nights, I guess.”

But he should have known that wouldn’t scare Willie off. Not much does; Willie’s one of the most fearless people Luke knows. One of the most ready to tackle any problem – except his own. Because whatever brought Willie to the skate park that night, whatever stress Luke noticed behind his eyes, evaporates as he listens to Luke speak.

“Okay.” Willie scoots closer, their knees bumping gently together. He blinks up at Luke, one-hundred-percent focused now, as he asks, “what do you need? What can I do to help?”

Luke just stares at him, and Willie waits patiently.

But… Willie shouldn’t have to do anything. He shouldn’t feel like he has to do anything. Willie’s always so… carefree, so happy. Luke shouldn’t be here, taking up Willie’s time and energy with problems that he’s too stubborn to fix.

But the idea of Willie leaving… the idea of losing the comfort that his presence brings, the feeling of longing and hope that his presence inspires, is too repellent to even consider. Luke might not deserve Willie’s support, but… Willie’s like the warm, oversized sweatshirt that Luke’s drowning in right now. Not perfect, but cozy and soothing and – although Luke wouldn’t have let himself seek it out, now that he has it, he doesn’t want to let it go.

So, just this once, he lets himself give into it. He pushes aside the thoughts in his head that are screaming at him that all he does is cause problems. That he just makes everyone’s lives difficult – that he’s a disappointment. And he focuses on what he wants: that feeling of warmth and belonging to envelope him and drown out all the uncertainty.

“Can you just… hold my hand?”

Willie’s face lights up with his signature sunshine grin. “That I can do, songbird.”

He takes one of Luke’s hands in both of his, running his fingers along the calluses, playing with Luke’s fingers. “Geez, your hands are freezing.”

“They are not,” Luke huffs.

“I guess I gotta start bringing full winter gear with me when I come to find you in the middle of the night,” Willie says. “You can’t brood inside where it’s a little warmer?”

“I’m not brooding.”

“‘Course you’re not,” Willie hums. “But I think maybe I should start carrying around an extra beanie or something, with me. ‘Cause maybe middle-of-the-night skate park hangs could be our thing.”

Luke lets out a breath; Willie’s fingers finally close around his hand and he squeezes.

“A hat, a scarf,” he goes on. “Maybe some gloves.”

“We live in California,” Luke grumbles. “It doesn’t get that cold.”

“Okay, fine, you’re right,” Willie breathes out a laugh. He lowers their intertwined hands onto the bench between them. “Guess I’ll just have to hold onto you and keep you warm myself.”

A smile slips across Luke’s face. Because even though he’s having a bad night, and there are still thoughts in his head that he doesn’t want to be there, Willie’s with him now. Willie’s holding his hand, and Luke doesn’t want to let go.