#i want to graduate so fucking much but i need to take so many finals for that and i need a good job because i can't afford my almost 200k

[quemirabobo]

I just realized that I've been putting too much on my plate lately and instead of getting some of that shit done all I end up with is feeling sick every week and things keep accumulating and I stress myself ten times more and I end up doing nothing, reading something to distract myself of the fucking titanic quest I put my ass on

[snowsinterlude]

need someone older.

(teacher!coriolanus × student!reader.)

summary: a teacher can do a lot in private lessons.

c.w: reader is 19 for repeating a year, age gap (coryo's 29), fingering, tummy bulge, heavy smut, edging (f. recieving), overstimulation, stuffed panties, mild public sex, petnames (coryo calls reader bunny, pet, good girl.), reader thinks coryo is married so . cheating implications, marriage proposal

being a dumb girl was something you tried your best to do ever since you repeated the first year of high school, watching all your friends graduating before you was something you weren't proud about- not for them, but for you. you were supposed to be by their side.

thankfully, you had your professor, coriolanus snow. god. he was the only reason for you to pay attention to class (or at least try to), you were hungry for his approval. for you to be called a "good girl", and be said that you've done well in your tests? yeah, you were willing to do anything for that.

when he offered you private classes, you said yeah without even thinking much. you needed to learn, and spending more time with him was something you craved for. the ring on his finger? fuck it. you wanted it. you deserved it. more than his wife – if he had one.

you've been day dreaming about it constantly, eyes always searching for his on every class you had with him, and he would keep that smile painted on his face, not wanting anyone to think you were the reason for him to be smiling, even if you were, the didn't need to know about it.

"bunny," he voiced, leaning on your desk and taking advantage of the fact that you both were on the library, every student on the school had gone home and the teachers had gathered to go to a nearby bar. "stop looking at my dick now, will we?" he said, chuckling at you.

"huh?" you asked, finally waking to your reality.

"you need to learn that if you don't want to repeat a grade again." he said, sitting by your side, his hand holding your thigh. "you don't want to repeat now, do you?" you shaked your head negatively, and he loved seeing you like that, shy as a kitten even if you usually had his dick on your mouth when that used to happen. "c'mon, don't look at me like that. we have to put these things on your brain if you want to graduate already." he said.

his fingers slowly travelled all the way up on your panties, finding a small damp on the fabric, he looked at you with his usual smirk, his pupils blown already from everything he was about to do to you.

and now you looked like a mess. hands gripping on the library desk as your legs trembled with the aftermath of every time you almost came. you counted six till now, crying from how good it felt having him behind you, his fingers thrusting lewdly into your cunt.

"c-coryo- t-teacher, please. please stop it, i have to cum- i can't hold it in anymore!" you begged, clenching as his fingers rubbed deliciously on your clit after thrusting so many times inside you.

"well, it's not my fault, pet. you're the one getting your questions wrong." he said, pulling his dick to tease the core of your pussy, your cries only making him feel and making his ego bigger. "tell me, baby, how do you want it?"

"q-quick, pleease! if it get slower i-i think i'll die!" you said, legs spread as your skirt revealed a small part of your ass.

"oh, c'mon, i'm sure you can take it, baby" he purred in your ear, the tip of his cock teasing your pussy and slapping your clit slightly, making your body jolt slightly. you bend over, your elbows being now your main support at that table.

"please, teacher..!" you begged. but he didn’t even bat an eye to your cries, slowly sliding his dick inside you, and fuck, you both fucked on wednesday, how come he always seems to stretch you up so good? the pace he choose to torture you with was so slow, making sure you felt every inch of his dick inside you, stretching you, making you his. "please, don't do that to me. j-just ask something easier!" you cried.

"easier? okay... let's see" his hips bucked slowly into yours, your pussy gushing around him as if your own body needed that- as if he was the hair you breathed for. "what's your age, babe?" he asked, a playful tone being cast as his free hand massaged your boob, pinching on your nipple and freeing both your boobs from it's cage.

"n-nineteen." you said, and he laughed again as he said: "good girl, you're right.", his hips giving you a powerful thrust that made you cum with only that, making you cry from your own humiliation.

"ah, bunny, don't tell me you came already only with that." he said, joking with your face as you cried.

"i'm sorry- too good. i-it was too deep." he laughed, pulling back and thrusting deeper again, this time, you made sure not to cum again, edging yourself as he changed your position to put your leg over his broad shoulder, his dick making a bulge appear at your tummy. he loved that view- much more than he loved you.

"look at you, taking me so well. how does it feel, baby? use one of the words we learned at the literature class," he grunted your tightness coating his dick with your own juices, "use them, even if it's just two, and i'll let you cum."

"tortuous," you begin, crying from how good it felt, from how dumb you were getting. "spiralling, it's twirling my insides!" you cried. and he smilled, kissing and licking your tears before placing the most gentle kiss on your lips, pouding faster into you as you closed your eyes shut, moaning and grunting from all the pleasure- and yet you tried your best to avoid moaning only to hear his moans and the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh.

"good girl." he said, his hands holding your hips as he fucked you. it felt truly out of your world experience. his phone ringed just at the right moment he hit your cervix. "t-teacher, your phone- it can be your wife." you said, earning a frown from him as he turned the phone off.

"wife? baby, i'm single." he said, chuckling at you. "you've been walking around school with my cum stuffed in your panties even thought you thought i was married?" he pounded into you with a more quicken pace. "god, what a dirty girl you are. fucking around with married teachers." he teased you.

you felt a heat on your cheeks that you never felt before. god, how much would you end up humiliating yourself? "b-but, fuck! y-your ring-"

he showed you the ring. taking it off his finger with his mouth and sticking his tongue to you, an invitation for you to take the ring.

"keep it." he said once you took the ring

"but- s-sir, i-"

"mm, bunny, i'm a faithful man." he said. "and right now, i'm faithful to you." he said. you squirmed deliciously at the feeling of his cock filling you up again, his tip on your cervix as you came again, and soon enough, he came too.

he helped you get dressed into your panties again and straightned your clothes, a cast kiss on your lips before he smiled sweetly at you, putting the ring on your middle finger.

"i hope you know what that means."

"i-i do." you said, for both questions heavily implied in that context.

"great. then make sure to graduate, bunny." he smiled. "i'm sure the honeymoon will be great."

[nathaslosthershit]

Long Distance (LN4)

Summary: Long distance relationships are hard, especially when they both have very time consuming careers

Warnings; Angst (a whole lot), no happy ending in this part (will happen in pt 2)

Request: hi!! requesting a lando norris x female uni!reader if possible reader being a medical student or a one of the engineers on the paddock 🧍🏻‍♀️

Lando wasn’t known for being the smartest on the grid. He, like many other drivers, had only a few years of school to his name. But that still hadn’t stopped him from being able to somehow ‘woo’ a woman quite the opposite. 

His girlfriend was currently in her last year of medical school. While he was unbelievably proud of how far she had come, the difficulties of long distance have gotten to both of them, and there wasn’t much hope once she graduated and was off to a medical training program. With her studying for finals and Lando being off to a new country every two weeks for Grand Prixs, their relationship has been rocky to say the least.

Constant lack of communication and missing each other's calls had led them to have tons of unspoken dialogue. Each unanswered call created the smallest bit of resentment that just continued to grow and grow. 

No more sweet ‘goodmorning’ or ‘goodnight’ texts, no more wishing her well before a big test, no more sending ‘good luck baby!’ before qualifying. Just a few ‘how are you doing?’ and other bland messages you’d send to a coworker, not your significant other. 

After weeks of little communication, they had finally scheduled a ‘zoom date’. Not particularly the most romantic date they had been on, but it's the best they could do with their schedules. Lando called in late at night for him while his girlfriend had a lunch break in between labs. Time zones be damned.

Lando was 25 minutes late leaving only 35 minutes to actually talk to one another.

Her wifi was spotty so it kept freezing.

Finally, with only 5 minutes left, Lando decided to make a joke that there is no reason for her to continue going to labs, as he would be happy to be her ‘sugar daddy’. This was not very well received by his girlfriend, who responded with a quick “fuck you” and hung up early.

Lando was joking, a bit. He loved his girlfriend and saw a future with her, he just couldn’t stand long distance and any job in the medical field was bound to take up most of your time. He wanted her, but he also wanted someone who could be by his side on race day. That just wasn’t something that was possibly currently. 

He supported her. He loved to brag about how smart she was and how she was so dedicated to helping people. But that came with setbacks.

After a quick message from Lando (‘I was kidding darling. You know how proud I am of you. Lighten up a little, yeah?’), which she ignored, she was off to her labs in a worse mood than before. Things couldn’t go on like this. 

He hadn’t heard from her in three days. His “how are you, love?” and “Miss you lots. Hope your class is going better than my neck training :(“ went unanswered. She knew she was being petty, but maybe a relationship was just too hard for her life currently. 

After three long and stressful days of silence, she called him. With no message asking what she needed to speak about, Lando feared he already knew.

“We can’t keep doing this” She said after they quickly exchanged a ‘hi, how are you?’ ‘I'm good, how are you?’. 

“Baby, I told you it was just a-”

“I know that Lando! It's just that this isn’t the first time you have mentioned me quitting my career to be your housewife or whatever unrealistic idea you have stuck in your head.”

“I don’t need you to be a housewife! I don’t want that for you. I just try to let you know that you don’t need to worry about your future as much because I will always be there to help you.”

“But I want a career! I want to work hard so I can have a good future. You need to get it into your head that your career isn’t the only important one.”

“I don’t think that! Me wanting to let you know that I support you no matter what isn't diminishing your career plans! It would be nice if you started to show a little more support. I am so sick and tired of all our conversations revolving around you and how your day was. If classes are rough, or you are stressed, you don’t respond to me. I never know where I land with you. But god forbid I try to mention how hard my day was. I am just as sick of it.”

She didn’t know how to respond. It seems that all the times she has been more focused on how she was feeling she completely forgot to check on how he was doing. Before she can even muster out an apology, Lando jumps back in.

“Maybe you are right. I don’t think I can do this either. Not anymore.” He feels his stomach dropping as he says the words, not fully meaning them.

There is a long silence, moments where she wants to apologize, to try and reconcile. In that moment all of the good memories of their relationship come flashing back to her, as if her mind is begging her to do something. But she doesn’t. 

“Then I guess this is it.” She finally says. 

“I guess so.”

[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.

[ur-mousey]

Elevator Sex ~

Yandere! Landlord! Geto Suguru x F!Reader

summary Landlord Geto fucks you in the elevator. You will learn your place. 1.1k warning mature, smut, cheating?, voyeurism, non-con.

..............................

Geto Suguru spent many nights in the room over from yours. It was the closest seat in the complex to your strip tease. He hated that you started to refuse him small talk, to your gracious landlord, who built his schedule around your comings and goings. You should be cordial, to say the least. Each morning, he would remind you to double-check your person. You tended to be forgetful. Stupid poor thing, you were. When you first arrived, you were prone to call up at noon to have him search for your room key. Geto didn't mind. He felt less perverted in those times you begged him to check on things. He'd chalked it up to you flirting, especially when your used underwear found home in his pocket. And, every time you said it would be the last, yet, you would do it again. You had a knack for leaving important things behind just like you were doing him. For weeks, he would wave in the foyer after you got back from work, ushering you to converse with him. 

However, every single time, you would squirm into the comfort of your apartment. He'd even had to drill a hole through your wall to make up for you ignoring him. He assumed you felt guilt.

It was your fault that he had to refuse another tenant from moving next door. It was your fault he took the listing offline. He was losing money. But, watching your tits hang while you changed from your work clothes gave him much fapping material. The walls being thin allowed your voice to fall into his lap. When he caught you gurgling on that man's cock, he imagined your hollow cheeks milking him.

You would look so pretty, sopping on the floor, your silk ruining the carpets which he'll lick up after he wears you to sleep. And, he'd felt more than knew, that he would be enamored by your worship of his cock that he'll press you into a mating lock.

He wanted to see you bound to him through the most intimate action of man. Your precious pussy needed to pulse around his shaft. 

You needed to learn your place. 

Mediocre sex with your boyfriend pained him when he thought too much of it. He would rather watch your toys vibrate your blushing lips despite your stifling moans. That boyfriend of yours was arrogant. He left you without building your orgasm to its head. It felt pathetic. 

Your landlord decided it was time to get involved.

>>>

"I'll see you later tonight," Your boyfriend cooed. He dipped his head to catch your lips in a soft kiss. You sighed and rolled your eyes before softly reciprocating. He stroked his thumb over your cheek. 

You lifted your coffee to your lips, needing the caffeine to silence your budding words. Your boyfriend brought you out on your day off to get breakfast. While seated in the French-styled cafe, Naofumi explained his new promotion. You were excited for him. This new change meant an upgrade from his shitty apartment to a new one. However, it didn't mean you were in his plans. You've dated since high school. Took the entrance exams side by side, graduated college together, and now, you're here.

The changes don't seem noticeable until you read between the lines. He used to include 'we' in sentences, now it's 'I' this, 'me' that.

Now, as Naofumi gave one final squeeze to your hand, the only thing you could think of was your landlord, who was staring bullets at you through the glass doors. You were somewhat aware of his crush.

Like a puppy, he waited in the foyer for your return. 

"Welcome back," Geto Suguru lifted his chin. He stood in your path to the elevators, strong biceps pushed his plush tits to your attention.

You felt intimidated to give him more than a passing bow. You looked down at your shoes. The pressure of his gaze made you wonder what it would be like to take a chance with him. But, you did love Naofumi.

You tried to sidestep Geto. You failed to meet his gaze and you kept your head down. You clutched your purse to your chest.

"Take me to your unit." Geto commanded to your discomfort. Other tenants who were leaving the complex regarded his hulking frame. And they'd probably wondered what had you in his bad graces.

"Excuse me?" You stuttered, taking a step back.

Geto slipped behind your frame, he gently shoved you forward. His natural musk caused your nose to wrinkle. The blood rushed down to his shaft, his cock sprang into action in his sweats. "A few of the units been experiencing plumbing problems. There, I need to check yours."

Bullshit!

You lived on the tenth floor and you were prepared for the awkward ride up. Geto hit your floor button. The elevator began its climb from the first level to the third but between the fourth and fifth floor, Geto punched the control panel and the elevator came to a stop.

You laughed through your teeth, "Geto-san? What are you doing?"

"If you want to continue living here. There are some rules you need to follow~" Geto leaned his back against the door. He blocked your only means of escape.

"One, break up with your boyfriend. He's not allowed to step a foot in here or I might rip him apart. Hearing him fuck you… I can't anymore." You felt the onslaught of an up-and-coming panic attack. Did he listen to your sex life? Your legs squeezed tight together. "Second, you will quit your job. It's too deep into the city for me to ensure your safety.

"Geto-san…" You whined through a fit. You threw your cup filled with lukewarm coffee as if it could replicate an impenetrable fort. You felt like a child as you stomped and pleaded for the man to let you go.

You wished at this moment that you had something. Pepper spray or a switchblade. Anything that could get you elsewhere. Geto solemnly moved, he allowed your tantrum to fizzle out. He then stepped over the mess. "Last rule. From now until you die, we're partners. So start calling me by my name. Su-gu-ru."

>>>

Your head lulled to the side, you felt weighted down by the copious amounts of coffee and cum that your hair soaked up like a mop.

Hair clung to your body. You couldn't tell which of it were yours or his. Time didn't exist but you counted the number of times you tensed up around his thick cock. "Su-uh," The moans were knocked from within your chest, it bubbled at each hit to your cervix. Geto's hips shuttered against your weeping pussy. "I- I'll do it! Please stop."

You tried screaming earlier and it got your panties shoved into your mouth. You were at your breaking point. You would do anything to get him off of you. "I'll be your dirty little slut! Su, please finish!"

Your chest heaved forward when Geto pushed his palm down onto the base of your belly. He edged himself against your inner walls. The ends of his charcoal hair teased your clit, along with his thumb which thrummed heavenly on your nerve, and it ghosted along your thighs to the rhythm of his pumps. "I'll follow your rules. I won't talk to Nao anymore," You rambled back his earlier demands. You promised him through another fit of throwing arms and legs that you'll be perfect.

His perfect cockwarmer.

"He, eh, said that he would come later tonight." You whimpered out from between your lips that you bit carelessly. "Suguru, you can be there when I- break things off. Then I can call my boss and put in my 2-week notice. You'll have all of me!" You huffed. Geto embraced your cunt lapping at the tip of his cock. Even if he tried to pull out now, your pretty little pussy sucked him in deep.

.............................. Thank you for reading! I had something different planned but I haven’t finished writing it but I wanted to update. Please leave ideas in the comments! Request rules are here! >>> NEXT JJK POST: Yandere! God! Sukuna x Disciple! F!Reader! prt 2. You can read prt 1 here.

[georgiapeach30513]

With Your Touch, Part 1

Summary: You were supposed to be living a normal life. Perfect boyfriend, just graduated college, and ready to start your new life. Until you met him. Brooding and imposing unless his daughter is around. You knew nothing about babies, but he knew less. Tension builds, feelings flare up, but are they just because he looks extremely sexy when he's soft? Could it be because you are falling for this princess of a baby girl before him? Is it because when he's in town you're too close? The money is good, and yet his attention is better.

Pairings: Lloyd Hansen X Reader

Rating: mild

Warnings:  language, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4.1K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

Lloyd scowls as he watches the scene in front of him. The crease between his brows is extra deep. He hates working in the field almost as much as he hates watching it. Idiots. He was surrounded by incompetent idiots.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” His fist slams on the table. How many shots have to be fired before they secure their target. “He’s right fucking there! Shoot his ass!”

“Lloyd,” a timid man says behind him, and Lloyd’s eyes never leave the monitors. “Mr. Hansen?”

“I don’t want to do this myself, but I fucking will! Levinson, get ready to go!” More rounds of bullets, and still the target was missed. “What the fuck is this?”

“Lloyd!”

His body goes rigid as he turns to look at the small man who is shivering. Eyes downcast to the floor so he doesn’t look at the towering man. “Why the hell are you addressing me?”

“We have a problem.”

“No, shit, Sherlock. I have two teams of mercenaries after one target, and he’s not been shot. What the fuck else could be wrong?” He leans over a bit looking at the man. “Well?”

“Who the hell brought a baby?” Ari asks, staring down at a pitiful little carrier. An envelope beside the small bundle, and her bright green eyes stare up at the large man. “This isn’t bring your daughter to work day,” her face cracks a moment as she searches his face. Lips puckering out before a scream radiates through the makeshift office. “Make it stop!”

“Where the fuck did a baby come from?” Lloyd snaps a finger at another man to take over the original issue at hand. He just needs the target killed, and he can go home for a bit. “What is this?”

Ari’s hands slap on the side of his head covering his ears, but his foot tilts the carrier to rock it a bit, but still she wails. Seeing how no one attempts to help out, or get the baby to stop, Lloyd assumes this is something he’s going to have to take care of. What else was new? Rolling his eyes in annoyance, he leans down to grab up the letter. Crumpling it up before looking down at the baby. “Mother fucker.”

Your fingers run over the empty shelves in your dorm room. Graduation has finally happened, and now it is time to leave your mark on the world. Your father didn’t bother to show up for your graduation because why would he? He never showed up personally in your life. Not really. He always made sure that everything was paid for though. It could be worse, right?

You try not to complain about your father, or your family. You had more than most and should be grateful. But then some people had attention. Sighing, you grab up your bag, and look towards the door.

“Chase,” whispering, you walk over to him, and lay your head on his chest. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I don’t know why you feel so attached to this dorm room, honey.”

“Because it was my home,” you’re sure he didn’t fully understand, which was okay, you never bothered to explain. You kept your family dynamics quiet. He never asked why you were so quick to visit with his family for the holiday, just enjoyed you being there.

His warm arms wrap around you, and he holds you in a tight embrace. He wasn’t quite comfort, but he is sweet. He means well, and did what he could for the information that you provided to him. But this dorm room was the closet you had to a home. You had good memories here. Friends that were more like family, and now it’s gone.

You groan when the stupid sound of your absent father’s ringtone sounds off. Maybe he is actually calling to congratulate you for wasting his money on a degree that he deemed pointless. He. It probably wouldn’t matter what you did, it’d never be good enough for him.

“You gonna get that?”

“Do I have to?” You complain looking up at Chase. His mouth lifts to the side, and he nods his head. He is right. You should talk to him and quit hiding. You didn’t know what he was going to say or do. “I’ll be waiting in the car.”

“So the kid is yours?” Ari looks down at the car seat, watching the little baby cry, no one attempting to soothe or comfort her. Lloyd squats down and rubs his thumb over her cheek, and she struggles to breathe from her tears. “Are you going to hold it?”

“Can you stop referring to my daughter like she’s a thing?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Ari answers sarcastically. “Then pick her up. What is her name?”

“Clara told me to name her. She didn’t bother naming her. What…what do I do?” He looks up at his friend, showing the tiniest bit of emotion. “I don’t know anything about babies.”

“Start by holding her.”

“You hold her,” Lloyd is a lot of things but nurturing is far from one of them. He was a man that didn’t make mistakes, but clearly, he messed up somewhere. Of all the women he had been with only one was he stupid enough to knock up. But the way Lloyd is staring at her would suggest he almost wanted a baby.

“This is so fuck…this is so stupid. Clean up your mouth. She isn’t old enough to talk yet, but she will be,” Ari gets down to his knees, starting to remove the straps over her body. “She’s a pitiful little thing. Shh, girlie, you’re scaring your daddy before he’s properly got to look at you. There ya go,” he coos, holding the tiny girl up against his chest. Her cries soften a bit. He wonders when the last time she felt loved, because her body moves around feeling more of him.

“What’s wrong with her?” Both Ari and Lloyd’s noes turn up in disgust as they smell her. “She’s not been bathed?”

“That’s poop, Lloyd. We can’t have a baby here,” that is something Ari is certain of. Not only was this not a place for babies, he didn’t want to have to smell the baby smells.

“I didn’t ask for the baby. She was dropped on the mother fucking steps. Clara. I’ll kill that dumb trollop. Never trust desperate women. She doesn’t want money. She just didn’t want the baby. And I need her to have a name, so I’m not just calling her the baby. Ari, name her.”

“I’m not naming your spawn. She’s born of you, you name her. And my god, you gotta change this diaper, and figure out what you’re going to do in order for us to not have to deal with a baby like this. What the hell do you want?”

Lloyd turns to look at one of the analysts standing in the doorway. His thick rimmed glasses, and quiet demeanor made him one of Lloyd’s favorites. He was trustworthy, and smart. Quick. One of the few people Lloyd didn’t want to strangle. “Roman, what do you need? We’re dealing with someone.”

“You need an au pair.”

“What the hell is that?”

“It…it’s someone that will live in your home, and care for the child. They could teach them another language, and…”

“Sounds like a wife. Do I get to fuck them? Does she talk back to me?” Roman shakes his head no, wanting to say more, but doesn’t want to risk his job. He had the perfect person to help Lloyd with his little problem. “Where does one find an au pair?”

“I know someone that just recently graduated, and she speaks French. She has a degree in art history, and…”

“I need her at my house immediately,” Roman acts as if he’s about to say something until Lloyd cocks up a brow, “I will pay her handsomely.”

“You’re keeping the baby?” Ari’s answer comes in the form of Lloyd reaching towards the baby. Turning up his nose at the stench, but he holds her gently. Tenderly. He gives her a quick peck on her head. “He’s keeping the baby. Roman, call whoever. Sounds like the amount of money is not an issue.”

Staring up at the posh apartment buildings, and squeezing Chase’s hand, you wonder how you even got here. Your father didn’t do anything but give you money. You didn’t even know him. Didn’t know what he even did to make the money. And now you are taking orders from him. Allowed him to make you feel like shit for your education.

“You don’t have to listen to him,” Chase says calmly. Slipping his hand out of yours, he turns to look directly at you. “You’re a grown woman, you don’t have to listen to what daddy says.”

“Don’t call him that,” your father didn’t earn that name. That’s exactly what you called him, father. “I mean look at it, there could be worse places to live.”

“Yeah, and you’re caring for a child that isn’t yours. And where’s her parents? How often will you have this child?”

“I’m going to live with them.”

“That’s another thing, I don’t exactly like the idea that you live with them. Who are them?”

“It’s a need to know basis,” you mumble. Finally finding your footing you take a step forward. It was now or never and it seemed like it was going to be now. What did you actually have to lose? This was a guaranteed job. It’s not like you had to stay. The pay was great. And how hard could one baby be?

You were going into this job with a house, great pay, and it seemed somewhat cushy. “You’re just going to be giving another child a life without their parents.”

“And just think where I would have been without my nanny,” you spit out, feeling a bit more protective of a child that you haven't met. It wasn’t her fault anymore than it was yours. Children should be loved and taken care of, and that’s what you are going to do.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know you didn’t. You don’t have to go with me if you don’t approve,” sighing, Chase follows you as you walk into the building. Following the exact instructions you were given from your father. You didn’t know what you were walking into. It was just a job after all.

Neither you or Chase say another thing. He definitely could feel your irritation at the need to insert what he thought he knew about your life. Your life wasn’t horrible. You just didn’t have your parents. Especially not your father. He had a business. And whatever he did afforded you a charmed life.

Seems like this child was getting the same treatment. And if you could give her the life that your amazing nanny gave you, then you feel like you’re giving it back. You didn’t see yourself as a teacher, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. And it was just one small baby. Eventually she would be going to school, and that’s if you even stayed that long.

Attention was everything when it came to children. If you said no, and this was apparently an emergency, what would happen to this child? Every child deserves a good life.

You don’t fully bother knocking on the door. Just punch in the code to the apartment, and Chase tugs at your arm. He isn’t as comfortable with this as you are. Your father gave you the code, Lloyd didn’t want you to knock, he wants you to make yourself comfortable. Your eyes go wide as you look around.

You could see the house at one point was pristine, but now it’s chaotic. Empty boxes are everywhere, but all of them seem to be items for the child. Your father told you she was a baby, but not how new she was. Tiptoeing deeper into the apartment, Chase pulls you back into him.

“Announce yourself. This is weird.”

“Mr. Hansen?” The sweetest little baby gurgle comes from the next room, and you look up at Chase. “That’s a real baby, handsome. Can I go meet my employer now?”

“I’m right here. Scream if you need me.”

“Mr. Hansen?” You ask again, looking into the first room. It is an even bigger disaster. Stuff was everywhere. The room has so much potential, but why does everything seem new? “Mr. Hansen, do you need help?”

He needs a lot of help. Could barely tend to his own child. His movements seem very rigid and unsure of himself. “Yeah, I think she peed. She has on the diapers that change color when wet, but…I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I babysat a few times,” it’s a bit of a stretch. They weren’t babies. But you’ve seen some movies. Read some things, “Let me see. Hey there, cutie,” she looks like she could break hearts. She is angelic. Chubby little legs, and the biggest dimples in her cheeks. Completely toothless with the prettiest bright green eyes and long lashes. “I think you’ve overwhelmed your daddy. Did you recently just get custody?”

There had to be a reason for this mess. But he went and spent a ton of money trying to give his daughter everything she needed and could ever want. “I just recently found out about her,” that took an unexpected turn. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t have the time to really devote to her, but I don’t want her to do without, and…I’m in over my head.”

So he was a bit like your father. But he seems to currently be more hands on than your father was. It was cute, in a completely not weird way at all. Lloyd was older than you. A full grown man while you had only just graduated college. “I’m not an interior designer, but I know some. The apartment is a mess, I’m aware. Lyla needs so much, and this place was just here. I never took the time to do anything. So me and my partner ordered everything we could think of. I don’t think she needs everything we got, but she could. She has her bed, and her diapers, and there’s a box of formula and food in the kitchen. Her food should be there, right? I don’t think she plays with toys yet, but there’s some somewhere.”

“Is this a Dior stroller?”

“I was told it was a pram,” you stare at him, trying not to giggle. The fact that it was Dior was the more silly part. “I can’t do what I do and have her there it’s dangerous.”

“What do you do?”

“Don’t ask,” the look he gives you makes you take a step back, gawking up at him when you realize his size. He is tall. Arms that are thick and hard as steel. His shoulders are wider than your entire body, “Lyla will be provided for, and because of that so will you. Whatever you need. I’ll leave a card for you. I won’t be able to personally get all your…well, all your needs. So this seems like the best option.”

“My needs? Like food?”

“Uh, I know that you women have things you need,” he’s an idiot. “I’ll give you a check, so this looks legit, but I can provide all your special woman needs,” huge idiot.

“Yeah, I can get my ‘womanly needs’ with my paycheck. Do…how often are you going to be here if I’m living here?”

He puffs out a bit of air, and he fully gives you attention. His daughter now has a changed diaper, and he cradles her sweetly. Some stupid expensive silver teething toy in her mouth, and his eyes roam over your entire body. He’s a bit too handsome to be a father, and one that just so happened to be your employer. His eyes are too blue, and his arms look too thick, and you gulp, clenching your thighs together. What the fuck was this witchcraft?

“Every night if possible. I typically work remotely, but sometimes I do have to go out of the country, and that leads to a few days to a week without me coming home to you and Lyla,” is he smirking? You shouldn’t feel so small and taken aback, but your stomach erupts with annoying butterflies with how hard he’s staring at you.

“Would you like to see your room? It’s next to the baby’s. My bedroom is in the front of the apartment, just off the living room. So I’ll be the first to the door. Absolutely no one in this apartment. I don’t trust people. Especially not around my child, and I guess now you come into my protection. If you need to know the apartment is in another name. I have a tendency to create a lot of enemies, and I try to keep things here as safe as possible.”

Lloyd freezes when he hears Chase sneeze. Handing you the baby, he covers you and her with his body in such a quick motion it takes your breath away. Your loss of breathing had nothing to do with his weight digging into your skin, and you surely don’t let out an odd sound that has him giving you a quick wink.

“That would be my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend? Roman didn’t say anything about a boyfriend.”

“Roman doesn’t even know when my birthday is. Do you have a problem with Chase being here?”

“What kind of name is Chase?” With your free hand, you shove him off you. You didn’t need him that close to you. “Honestly, what kind of name is that? And I said nobody visits.”

“You just told me that. He traveled here with me because he didn’t trust that I was coming to some apartment with some weird man that lured me here under false pretense just so he could murder me.”

“I don’t lure women here. This is a safe space for my daughter. I need you to make him leave,” Lloyd didn’t need to lure women. When he wanted a woman he could have one. And wanting a woman led to him becoming a father.

“But I don’t want to be here alone with a baby that can’t talk,” his eyes narrow at you. It is like you and Lloyd are playing a tit for tat game. Going back and forth of why Chase shouldn’t be here, and why you need him here. “He has a job. He works at an IT firm. Would you really want me here alone and by myself? What if someone comes here to attack me? Then Lyla is left all alone.”

“I’ve taken precautions that this would never happen. When you’re on the clock, Lyla is your only priority,” that made you feel slightly uneasy. You had to make a note to check the neighbors. Getting a feeling that someone was tasked with watching and listening to you and Lyla.

“When am I off the clock?”

“When I am here. Unless,” he gives you that eat shit grin again, shaking his head. Is he actually flirting with you, “I shouldn’t say that, sunshine. So what should Lyla call you? Nanny seems a bit too old and mature for someone sweet like you.”

“Why not my name?” He contemplates that for a moment, looking down at his little baby who stares up at you. If babies could talk, you wonder what she is thinking of.

“Dolly.”

“What?”

“I want her to call you, Dolly. Her Dolly. Ooh, yes, I like that. Let’s see what I should do about this boyfriend,” spinning on his heels Lloyd walks down the hallway, stopping the moment he sees Chase. Your boyfriend stands up immediately, holding out his hand for Lloyd to shake.

“I don’t like you.”

“I’m sorry?” Chase looks towards you holding the baby, and takes a quick gulp. Lloyd’s eyes go between the two of you before sidestepping in front of you. His wide body blocking Chase from looking in your direction. “What is this?”

“Chase, let's get something straight, when I’m not here, Dolly is on the clock.”

“Her name isn’t Dolly.”

“When I’m here, I’ll allow her to come and go as she pleases, but just like Miss Dolly, I need to get a background check on you. I don’t want just anybody to have access to my daughter, and her au pair. And absolutely under no circumstance will you be sleeping under my roof. This is my home, and my daughter’s, and I don’t need stupid boys coming in here and tainting that,” he turns to look at you. Giving you no time at all to process exactly what he is saying. He couldn’t be serious.

“Remember, I own your father. I also own you. I’m offering you money that you can’t refuse because he just cut you off, and you’re used to a certain lifestyle. I’m providing that for you. And I don’t want limp dicks in my home. Have I made myself clear?”

“You can’t do that.”

“I can do whatever I want, Dolly. I’m Lloyd fucking Hansen. If I want to cut every single finger off your father’s hands, I will. You can either have me as your employer or your enemy. And if you walk out that door with that boy, you will be my enemy. I’m not saying you can’t date him, I’m saying I don’t want him in my house or around my daughter. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes,” his head tilts forward, and his piercing blue eyes give you a look. A look you can’t exactly explain, but it makes you feel things. Makes you ready to do whatever it is he told you to do. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl. Get rid of the boyfriend.”

“But you’re here.”

“And so are you. There’s no need for him to linger around, while you move in. This is just an introduction, sweetheart. I need to walk you through all the boring stuff about your job. I’ll pay you extra if you get Lyla’s bedroom situated. This place is a complete disaster, and I can’t stand it. Get rid of him,” reaching towards Lyla, he walks back down the hallway to her room, and you give Chase an awkward smile.

“Come on, he can find someone else to be the au pair.”

“I need to see this through, Chase,” he tries interrupting you. Like he usually does, but you shake your head. You did need this job. None of the other places you applied at have called you back. “I need this job. It won’t be forever. And once I get settled in, and have my first day off, I’ll spend it with you.”

“You’re really going to let him talk to you like you’re his property?”

“No, I’m not. But I see myself in that little baby, and she needs me. He doesn’t know what to do.”

“Do you?” Nope. You had no idea about babies. You didn’t even have siblings. But your bags that were in Chase’s cars had a few books with some ideas on what to do. You’d figure it out along the way. Plus, you had this odd desire to understand your dad’s job, and also what exactly Lloyd did. How did a man that instilled so much fear in you also have a soft spot for his daughter?

“You’ll call if you want to leave? No questions asked, I’ll come and get you?”

“No questions asked,” you promise, kissing his lips softly. His hands cup your ass, and Lloyd glares at him down the hallway. How did Roman allow you to grow up and be disrespected in a stranger’s home? You allowed him to kiss down your neck, and neither of you even knew he was watching.

Lloyd would never let Lyla be treated like that. He wished he could make her not get any bigger. He liked the idea of having a woman in his home. Even if it wasn’t the way that a traditional family had it, who knew what the future held. You wanted to please him. Even told Chase it was time for him to leave. He still had it.

Chase pulls off your neck, and notices Lloyd watching you. His hands slip into your back pockets, and he gives your ass a bit of a squeeze, “Who’s girl are you?”

“I’m yours, Chase. Now go on, I’ll call you later,” his eyes flick over to Lloyd, who ventures into Lyla’s room. Going to lay her down for her nap as he tries to think of ways to get rid of Chase. He is an asshole. A cocky one at that. Unfortunately he reminded Lloyd of himself. And there is only enough room in your life for one asshole.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @floral-recs @pandaxnienke @theinheriteddutchess @rainydayandmondays @buckybarnesisdaddy @patzammit @xoxo-ls @rebeccapineapple @slutforchrisjamalevans @marvel-wifey-86 @jesevans @ughdontbeboring @infantasywonderland @vampy-doll @i-like-to-read-13 @missacidburn928 @charmed-asylum @honeyhoneylovelylove

[hotluncheddie]

high masking autistic steve harrington follow on from this post

ao3

wc: 2.6k | rated: T | cw: description of a meltdown with semi aggressive stimms | tags: autistic steve harrington (and eddie and robin but this is about stevie), hurt/comfort, stobin soulmates, steddie, steve Harrington has shitty parents

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he failed. he graduated. but he failed. those unsaid words between him and his parents. some get said. the bad ones, about him, they get said. over again like he’s 5 and being told is behaviour isn’t acceptable. that how he is isn’t right. ‘shape up or ship out’, basically. steve knows he can’t go anywhere new, not right now. only freshly recovered, physically at least. mentally; he’s still unacceptable. 

when steve works at scoops. it’s so fucking bright in there. so fucking bright, all day and he can’t focus and talking to people gets so much harder. it’s not like school where he can zone out in class and turn it on during lunch, in between, keep up his face with the people around him and sink back into his head during chemistry. no. now it’s all the time, customer after customer. that he has to talk to, put on a smile for, read so he gives them what they want and they leave happy. it’s exhausting. girls don’t like him anymore, they don’t react to him the same way. he doesn’t think he likes them much either though because they’re so much more annoying when it’s so fucking bright. 

but robin (robin who cycles to work with sunglasses on and doesn’t take them off till she has too) she turns the lights down during open and close. so those couple hours, it’s not so bad. not so stressful. a little bit less loud. 

after the mall burns down steve starts letting her in. tries too. she makes it obvious enough to him that she wants him there. she asks him to stay and calls him at night and he just wants to be enough for her. eventually he’d swallowed his pride and bolstered his courage and called her after a string of nightmares. asking her to stay the night. but then she was there, and it was like everything was thrown off. she was grating on his already freyed nerves but he didn’t know what to say. how to fix it without upsetting her. 

but that night, a mirror of the mall bathroom played out in steves en-suite. steve had freaked. hidden. but she didn’t leave. and he tried to explain. 

he needs her but he doesn’t know how to have her as a true friend. ‘i dunno how to talk to a girl if i don’t wanna date them. i uh, maybe, don’t really know how to talk to someone as myself. as a friend. sorry.’ 

‘well i don’t know how to talk to jocks so. same boat.’ and she has this glint in her eye. like she knows. and it’s okay. 

because robin, she made it simple. she makes it easy. she says just ask and she’ll be honest and give him a yes or no. she’ll say if she can’t be touched right now, or if the movie he chose is pissing her the fuck off. and she wants the same from him. if the music is too loud, if she needs to let him not speak for a while. wants him honest and present and real. real friends. someone close. finally. 

it’s rocky at first. she’s honest and he’s not used to it. it feel like criticism more often than not. makes him see red and lash out, like he was never able to with his parents. but he apologises and she stays. and he’s learning; that’s it’s okay, he’s not perfect and that means she’s knowing the real him. and she’s still his best friend even if he has to tell her to stop picking her nail polish off around him because it makes him want to die. and she laughs at him the first time she sees him in real recovery mode; hair not styled and he has on the only sweatshirt that ever feels good when he’s like this. 

they lay on the floor in darkness and silence. it’s perfect. they share a tin of soup and a grilled cheese. it’s perfect. 

being around robin as much as he is, its so new, having someone see so many parts of you. sometimes she laughs at him asking steve ‘why’d your voice change?’ but steve didn’t even know it had. he was, he was just talking to someone else quick, being nice like you’re supposed to, attentive to make them feel good. he didn’t know his voice changed that much. 

‘girls would like you more if you talked normal to them. how you do to me.’ 

steve swallowed thickly. he just. he just doesn’t know that thats true. nancy left, he talked to her about lots of things, too many things. she like him better at the start. before some of his black tar innards spilled out. before he freaked. before he was able to paste himself back together and she saw him for what he really is. 

he thinks of his parents. how they don’t know him and still don’t like him. anxiety prickles at his fingertips at the thought of those times they do come home. 

because with them there the routine he’s carved for himself, those quiet moments of darkness that he so craves. they’re gone. now it’s tv static and plates clanging and having to show his face at dinner again. but he’s not ten anymore. now he’s an adult whose still drowning in the tension of the room, never able to say what’s really going on, never allowed to ask how they really feel, never taught how to figure his feeling out. no listening ear for steve as a child, and the ice only grew thicker with time. 

it’s his skin itching at his mother stirring her tea across the house, spoon agains porcelain. it’s the hair on the back of his neck standing up at the sound of ice clinking in his fathers scotch glass. it’s triggered memories playing over and over again. it’s being plagued, by ghosts who haunt him, who left but come back every so often, like poltergeists. polietgists with the deed to the house, and ownership over steve, through blood and fear alone. 

‘when they get back you come to mine steve yeah? you come home.’

because now theres not just robin. there’s eddie. 

he sees everything. and more. even when steve’s trying to hide. eddie sees. 

he noticed steve squinting at the hospital and asked the nurse to turn the lights down. he saw how he started zoning out at a diner with the kids, their arguing reaching a pitch, asked steve to keep him company for a smoke break. once they were outside eddie said he just needed a moment, ‘those kids can be animals’. said it and looked a him like he didn’t need an answer, let steve just breathe a focus on the sound of the wind. 

it’s like there’s a million tiny moments, a million tiny cracks in him forming the more he’s around eddie. like his soft underbelly is mewling any time he’s around, wanting attention, wanting to let eddie see. let eddie touch. 

eddie used to look at him sometimes, across the lunch hall. stare at him with an expression steve couldn’t really make sense of. he used to think it was judgment, annoyance. now he wonders if that face was confusion or interest. maybe eddie’s always been trying to figure steve out. 

once it starts. them. eddie’s everywhere. more somehow, maybe, than robin because, you know, they go there. but it’s different, from those time, with those girls. instead now he’s there and his brains off and on in a, like, magical way. a new way that makes him feel whole and, and beautiful. 

this thing they have. it’s fragile. it’s not perfect. he messes up, takes him a moment to grasp how eddie can be so so himself, always, no matter what. especially when it causes him problems. ‘why not just try and fit in?’ but the stone faced reply told steve that was the wrong thing to say, he didn’t get it but he needed to respect it. respect eddie and his choices. ‘i’m not like you steve, even if my brain shit was all gone i’d still be poor, i’d still be othered. still be a gay weirdo little freak.’ 

and steve is trying to get it. he’s learning to recognise that it’s sadness and confusion in eddie’s eyes when he visits him at work, knowing steve is having a bad day and watching him pretend. watching that mask form thick and fast, hiding the real him, protecting but also keeping everyone far far away. steve thinks maybe they’re living parallels. finding different ways to survive. neither better, neither worse. both far from perfect. 

then that pinched sadness in eddie’s eyes. watching steve pretend. cover up. that damn breaks eventually. eddie sees all of him and more. those bits he always kept locked inside. between he and himself. it all comes spilling out. 

they were supposed to be going out soon. but eddie wasn’t feeling it anymore ‘let’s just stay here, be cozy a little longer. what do you say, sweetheart?’ it does sound nice. steves so tired. but they decided. they had a plan. 

‘we said we would. and i have to buy that thing eddie. we had a plan. and i have to go to work later, so we have to do it before. like we said and then i have to work eddie.’ and before he knows it there’s tears prickling his eyes and the ceiling fan is so loud and the desk lamp is too bright and he smacks a fist to the top of his head and it hurts a little but he’s so frustrated and so overwhelmed and so confused and embarrassed, suddenly. and he can’t breath. why can’t he breath? they had a plan. 

they were supposed to go see hopper and pick something up and he has to talk to him and ask about the game because he needs hopper to like him because it’s better when el can come when all the kids hangout. it’s important that she’s happy so hopper needs to trust steve so steve was going to talk to him today and pick something up. it was the plan. hopper makes him nervous but that was the plan. and then he had to go to work. but now he can’t breathe and he feels like he needs something to hurt. 

‘but he already trusts you with el stevie. hop trusts you with anything.’ 

‘i can’t know that. not for sure. when i talk to him it needs to be perfect.’ steve paces. a pinch at his arm. a tug at his hair. pivot. pace. repeat. 

‘i heard what he said to you steve, on your birthday, he was calling you son all day. you don’t need to prove anything to him.’ 

‘i do eddie! you don’t understand. people, they lie. adults lie. they don’t say things the way they mean. i can’t fuck up talking to him. not like i always fuck up talking to my parents. i need to do it better. do it differently. because everyone always leaves. and i just don’t want to be alone again.’ and the tears really start to fall and steve can barely breath and he’s so embarrassed. shaking hands try and cover his face but the tears slip through. 

and all he can think about is the plan. going to work. his vest hanging by the door. the way the plastic tapes feel in his hands. the smell of the bleach they mop the back room with. the day stretches before him. so many things in the way. so much anxiety still to come. if he can’t start, it can’t end. he gnaws at his lip. thumps a hand to his chest, trying to breath right, trying to ground. 

‘i have to go to work’ he mutters. like a prayer. speak it in to happening. taking him away from the now. thump thump thump at his chest. ear ringing. 

eddie’s holding his arms out, giving steve the option. he speaks so calmly, so earnest. ‘you can’t go to work steve. not like this baby.’

steve rounds on him. angry. when did everything get so messed up? if he was just left alone. he should’ve stayed on his own. ‘i cant just call in sick eddie! i’m not sick and and i hate the way they’ll sound when i say it over the phone and knowing what they’ll be thinking about me. they’ll know i hate the job and think i’m lazy and realise how stupid and useless i am and fire me. i can’t afford to get fired eddie. i’d rather just go in.’ he know it comes out garbled, his cheeks on fire. 

‘i’m not letting you go in steve. i’ll sort it. i’ll go pick up robin before and she’ll cover for you, she’ll explain. and she would never. ever think that of you.’ eddie’s voice dropped octave. he speaks clearly and plainly and finally there’s a new plan to follow. a new rule for the day. 

and all steve can do is curl up in a ball and sob. curl up in a ball against eddie chest, in his arms, squeezing his t-shirt between his fingers. clenching his muscles tight, his teeth grinding together. grunting out some of the decade old scream, still stuck there but more visible to him now. 

until finally finally, he relaxes. spent and exhausted. too afraid to open his eyes and face the lamplight, face what could be in eddie’s expression. he drifts..

eventually he gets up, blows his nose and splashed water on his face, turns off all the lights and get back under the warm blanket. fills his lungs. sighs. whispers, ‘m’sorry’ 

‘don’t say that. there’s nothing to apologise for’ eddie’s so close, so warm. 

‘no one’s supposed to ever, see that.. it’s okay if you want to leave’ 

‘steve. why the fuck would i leave you right now?’ 

‘who’d wanna date someone who acts like that? it’s. it’s not good eddie. but, but it’s okay. i’m used to being alo-.’ 

‘please stop stevie. your breaking my heart here. i want to stay, i want to be here with you. i really really like you steve.’ and steve’s cheeks feel wet again. he feels flayed open and young, like a little kid who fell off the swings and everything is different suddenly. 

later later when eddie picks robin up from work she stalks in to where steve’s wrapped up on the couch. curls up into his side and exhales. she bites into his bicep. huffing a sad, annoyed little ‘dingus’ before grabbing his hand and fiddling with his fingers. 

steve feels his eyes prickle again. looking up at the ceiling he croaks out a small ‘sorry.’ for the day. for everything. for anything he can be. and everything he can’t. 

robin kneels on the sofa right next to him. growling a little and placing one of her hands at his sternum and the other at the same height on his back. like she’s forcing herself inside him, holding him together. her hands start to rub up and down quickly, frenzied and grounding for both of them. steve let’s his head hang. eyes closing at the sensation. he grunts. robin grunts back. 

eddie joins. sitting at his other side. slipping a hand in steve’s hair, soothing his scalp with long scratching fingers. and steve humms, sighs, keens. eyes closed he drifts but not away from his body, instead into it. with gratitude, and warmth. at the centre of the two best things that ever happened to him. willing to try again. be just, better. never perfect. 

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pt 3 snippet

a little happier for u @pearynice <3

ty @spectrum-spectre @vampyreddiemunson @fangirlycupcake @grandwretch for ur tags and additions, it was very inspiring

and tags for lovely @irethsune @willim-billiam-byerson @2jug2head

[rivatar]

Pandora’s Hub

Pairing: Adult!Lo’ak x Fem!Human!Scientist!reader

Warnings/content: MDNI 🔞, heavy smut, p in v, outdoor sex & recording (obvi), porn references/simulation, degradation & praising, creampie, flirty man-whore Lo’ak, squirting

A/n: Day 5 prompt (Outdoor Sex + recording) for Pandora’s Glow- hosted by @luvv4j4ybe11 @aperiraa! Sorry it’s a week late, I’ve had so much going on (graduations, weddings, birthdays, etc) but I finally finished this. And ngl it’s filthyyy hehehe🤭. Also I hope you guys get the ‘Pandora’s Hub’ = ‘Pornhub’. Idk I thought it was funny 💀

Dividers by @cafekitsune

W/c: 2.2k

It was a beautiful day on Pandora. Quietly humming to yourself, you made your way towards the forest where you would be collecting photos of many different plants to further your research. The book ‘Pandoran Botany’ that Grace Augustine wrote was literally like your Bible. You spent countless hours working with the other botanists to learn more about these plants and what they are capable of providing. Their beauty and wonder never failed to amaze you.

You’ve spent almost the past week coming out into different spots in the forest to capture photos of plants and try to identify them without looking in the book. Of course, you didn’t stray too far from the lab but each day you ventured out a little further and further, not being able to contain yourself each time you seen a new plant you’d never seen since you arrived on Pandora. But what was the harm, right?

You were crouched down in a spot, carefully focusing the camera on the details of this plant you found.

“What’re you doing out here?” A deep voice startled you, making you jump and gasp, nearly dropping the camera. You whipped around to find the source.

“Oh, Lo’ak,” you blew out a sigh of relief with your hand over your heart, “You scared the shit out of me!”

He laughed, flashing a wide and charming smile, looking at you in amusement. “Sorry, didn’t know you were so jumpy,” he teased with his hands on his hips.

You stood up from your crouch and gave him an eye roll, trying to suppress a smirk.

“Well, what are you doing?” He asked for the second time.

“Oh yeah— I’m just taking some pictures of some plants for my research,” you explained as he nodded in response. “What are you doing?” You threw the question back at him.

He tsked, “Last time I checked you’re on my terrain. Didn’t know I needed a reason to be out here.” He tilted his head at you holding your camera.

“Let me see this,” he snatched the camera out of your hand.

“Hey!” You tried to grab it back but he dangled it way above your head due to his much taller stature. “Be careful with it, Lo’ak, it’s got important stuff on there!” You scolded while jumping up and attempting to get it back. It was to no use, though.

He chuckled and seemed to enjoy teasing you. “Awww, the little human girl can’t reach. Aren’t you just pathetic?” he laughed and feigned pity, poking out his bottom lip in a fake sad expression all while holding you off with one strong arm.

He threw it up in the air and gasped to scare you, only for him to easily catch it with his large hands. Your heart dropped, not wanting the camera to shatter and lose all the photos it possessed.

“Knock it off, Lo’ak!” You shouted angrily and kicked his shin, only to make him bust out laughing.

“You’re so cute when you’re angry,” he kept laughing and petted your head.

“I’m not a fucking child, stop treating me like one!”

“Oh, yeah?” His eyes danced around playfully.

You didn’t answer, you didn’t know if he was still teasing or if it was a trick question. You just stared at him, eyes filled with anger.

He smirked and looked away from you to look at the camera, clicking through its contents.

“Hmm, these are pretty pictures,” he stated observingly, “But Eywa, you would look so much prettier in this camera” he flirted shamelessly.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, trying not to blush. It was no secret Lo’ak has always been a huge flirt.

“Oh please, Lo. Don’t you have anything better to do than flirting with me?” You asked peering up at him with your arms crossed.

He loved you calling him his shortened nickname and how you teased him back. He liked to think you were playing hard to get. All the other girls would’ve already submitted to him by now, but what’s the fun in that?

“Nah, I don’t think I do.” He quipped. “Have you never wondered what you’d look like on here?”

You raised an eyebrow. “What’re you talking about?”

“Like they do back on earth. I think dad called it ‘porn’?” He asked nonchalantly.

Your jaw fell to the ground after you nearly choked on your spit. A blush crept over your features, not being able to hide your blush this time. “Lo’ak! You pervert!” You shoved his stomach and tried acting offended that he would insinuate such a dirty idea.

He chuckled at your reaction. “How am I the perv when you’re the one blushing, huh?”

Your blush deepened, much to your dismay, and you looked down at your feet.

He squatted down to be on your level. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost think you are curious about it” he spoke lowly, and you swore you could feel his breath on your face. He stretched an arm out to pull the strap of your tanktop and bra down your shoulder. Your stomach did flips and you were frozen in place, unable to stop him.

“Tell me you want to,” he demanded, already feeling impatient. “I know you do, I can smell you, but tell me you want it.”

“I-I want it, please,” you gave up your fight easier than you’d like to admit.

“Hmm, good girl. I knew you had it in ya,” he praised, loving that he broke you and won. He turned his attention back to the camera in his hand and pressed a button, making a red light come on in the corner as he pointed the camera towards you.

“Hey everyone, Y/N here is gonna show us how good she can be whenever she’s not bickering like a brat or hiding in that damn lab,” he started, and you blushed and couldn’t help but laugh at him.

“No one is seeing this, Lo.” You made it clear and shook your head, looking at him and not the camera lens.

“Oh, come on! I know that but don’t ruin the fun, baby.” He laughed. His smile faded and lust clouded his eyes, darkening his expression. “Now let’s see you take those clothes off, sevin,” he rasped.

Your heart was racing and you were nervous as hell. Not only because of the thrill of doing anything sexual with this hot Na’vi man, but also the thrill of doing it in on a video?? You were sure your heart was about to beat out of your chest.

Your hands were shaking a little as your reached for the bottom of your tank top, slowly peeling it up to raise it over your head and off. Your nerves made you slower and less confident. You had the first item of clothing off at least, time to tackle the rest.

“C’mon babe, this thing won’t be able to finish our video at the pace you’re going,” he laughed behind the camera, holding it up to his face to make sure you were perfectly centered.

You huffed in frustration and wiggled your shorts and panties off in one quick tug, flinging them off to the side and unsnapped your bra in a swift move as well to be completely naked. “There! Happy?”

He lowered the camera from his face so he could fully take in the sight for his own eyes. “Fuckkkk, yes,” he groaned out deeply, reaching down to palm his tented loincloth that was aching for some relief. His eyes were hooded and ate up every inch of your naked form, licking his bottom lip in the process.

His evident approval made your confidence boost and you didn’t feel as insecure to be exposed in front of him. You rubbed your thighs together as slick coated your pussy lips, you were more than ready for whatever Lo’ak had planned in that dirty mind of his. He chuckled seeing your apparent neediness and untied his loincloth with one hand, the other hand still making sure the camera caught every inch of your glory.

His cock sprung out as the cloth fell to the ground. You couldn’t help your mouth from hanging agape, taken aback by how huge and heavy he was. It took effort to force your eyes off his beautiful erection and back up to his equally beautiful face. He motioned you with his hand. “C’mere, babe.”

You gently walked towards him, waiting for him to make a move. He reached his hand out and grabbed your tit, fiddling with your nipple between his fingers. He smiled when you couldn’t help but hum and whimper in satisfaction. Then he lowered himself in a squat to get on your level and positioned the camera to get a closeup on your boobs.

“Fuck, these are perfect,” Lo’ak said while groping them, “Truly a work of art.” He continued to get all the angles of your breasts while playing with them, making your heart speed up.

Then he lowered himself more, opting to sit on the ground in front of you. Without warning, he hiked up one of your legs and you quickly gained your balance on your standing leg, hands finding rest on top of his head. He angled the camera to get a good view of your pussy as his other hand began playing through your glistening folds, collecting all your slick on his long fingers. You whimpered above him, the rough pads of his fingers bringing much pleasure to you.

He spread your lips apart, gaining a perfect view to your little hole. Looking through the camera, he made sure this stunning view was being captured. You blushed deeply at the way you were being put on display like a pornstar, but it turned you on beyond belief.

“Such a tiny little tawtute pussy,” he hummed and looked up at your eyes, “I’m gonna fuck it so good.”

You clenched around nothing, your one standing leg suddenly growing weak and wanting to give out. “Please Lo’ak!”

“Lay down, now,” he demanded and you wasted no time in rushing your way down to the forest floor, spreading your legs wide open.

“You’re so good. What a good little slut,” he praised you. He grabbed his rock-hard dick and ran it up and down your slit, earning a moan from you. Once again, he held the camera up and made sure it was getting all of this. Your pretty self laid out on display for him and his dick starting to breach your hole. It was nearly too much for him to handle.

Pushing in slowly, you gasped at the stretch and he groaned as you sucked him in your tight walls. He pushed and pushed until he nearly bottomed out, giving you a minute to adjust to his size. “You okay?” He asked, genuinely concerned you might break in half.

“Mhmmm, go, please!” You thought it was more painful with him being still inside of you instead of moving.

He obeyed and started with some short thrusts to get you going. He knew the interspecies differences would make this nearly impossible if you and him weren’t so damn turned on right now.

Squelching noises filled the air as you took him in your pussy so well. Your noises of pleasure only encouraged him more, and he swore to himself he wouldn’t cum until you did.

“Fuck! You’re so fucking wet and tight around me,” he said breathlessly.

“Mmm, feels so good, more!!” You shamelessly begged as he sped up his thrusts.

“God you’re so good at this. Taking me so well.” he groped your tit some more with his free hand, marveling in the way they bounced around from his steady and hard thrusts.

You moaned loudly and felt your orgasm approaching as the pleasure intensified. You reached down to rub your little nub and threw your head back, screwing your face up.

“I bet you’re so wet because you like being recorded, hm? You like being a filthy whore every once and a while?” He degraded you, but he was right, and God, it only turned you on more.

“Yeah everyone, look how she’s rubbing her clit and trying so hard to cum. How pathetic,” he spoke to the ‘audience’. The thought of someone else watching this was all you needed to finish. You came hard around him.

“Fuckkkk!!” You screamed and kept rubbing your nub quickly. You felt warm liquid coat your hand and splash around.

“Holy shit!! We’ve got a squirter!” Lo’ak said in awe and surprise, continuing his thrusts but they got sloppy as his orgasm overtook him too, not being able to hold back anymore at the sight of you squirting on him.

“Shit, I’m cumming!” He announced and came inside of you, somehow finding more room in there to put his cum.

Your combined sounds of pleasure and heavy breaths rang through the air. You were both a sticky mess from sweat and cum.

He lowered the camera and ended the video, laying it to the side as he collapsed on top of you. You were both trying to catch your breath.

“Well, that wasn’t what I had in mind for what I was going today,” he joked.

You snickered. “Yeah. You’re telling me.”

Taglist: @bambithewriter @neteyamssyulang @anemonelovesfiction @professional-yapper @plantgirliewholovespandora @etherynn @nonamevenus @ladykat37 @loakstahni @zafrinaxyz @xylianasblog @xstarsdiary @itchaboi-itchyboy @neteyamsoare @strongheartneteyam @inolaphoenix @erenjaegerwifee @vogueweb (lmk if you wanna be added or removed from taglist!)

[yan-lorkai]

Good Morning/afternoon/evening! Can I request a headcanon with a reader who comes back to Twst (after they have returned to their world) and finds yandere Idia made a robot (like Ortho) that looks like them and have the same personality as them? Thanks! ✨💖

Returning to Twisted Wonderland this time was a choice you made after thinking and rethinking the pros and cons, after remembering everything you would be leaving behind. But the pros were greater than the cons, at least you thought. And when you came back, you knew what you wanted to do, look for Idia.

It wasn't really difficult to imagine where he would be, even though a few months had passed you knew he wouldn't have changed that much. However, you should have known how wrong things were when you saw Ortho and he looked surprised, and fearful, trying to dissuade you from opening the door. Trying to keep you from seeing what his brother had done.

But his attempt was futile. You opened the door, received Idia's permission and entered. But nothing could have prepared you to find your own face staring back at you when you entered Idia's room, the emulated expression of surprise making everything more uncomfortable. You and Idia were paralyzed for different reasons, inert, not knowing how to react. However, you recovered faster while he were still processing the entire situation.

"What the fuck is this?" You curse as you look with a mix of admiration and apprehension at your copy. Every little detail was exactly perfect, the same as the original, the same skin tone, the same hair, even the gestures were the same. It wouldn't matter if Idia had a plausible explanation for this, it was clear that he had created a robot to take your place to fill the void in his chest when you left. And it made you feel a little sorry for him, just a little.

"W-well, you see..." Idia can only mutter and whisper gibberish, his hair turning completely pink at being caught with such a strange creation. All this while said creation continues to maintain an impeccable posture, erect and proud, observing you, analyzing.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, my name is Yuu." The robot introduces themselves, without knowing or noticing the tension around them. It's so strange. There is no life behind those eyes like there is in Ortho, it is empty and dull plastic. It's uncomfortable to look at. "I'm Idia's lover and we're planning our wedding for after we graduate. Should we invite them, honey?"

Silence. It's embarrassing, invasive and wrong, this all felt too much, should you feel betrayed? Sad? Happy? Or honored that Idia created yet another robot? You didn't know at that moment. All you knew was that you needed to get out of there and you needed it now. But the door was now closed and locked, and no matter how many times you open it or yell at Idia nothing works. He has you now, he doesn't want to let you leave again. He can take your fear, he can take even your hate but having you leave again, even if only for your old dorm? That he can't handle. He won't.

"Prototype Yuu, shut down." He announces, finally recovering from his shock. He acts nonchalantly but you know he feels really awkward and anxious. "Listen, we can talk about it. It's not what it looks like."

You scoff. "Lover? Marriage? Yeah, it's exactly what it looks like, Idia. You created a robot that looks like me, that sounds like me. Because you still don't know how to deal with loss and you need comfort in the only way you know how to receive it."

Touché. He looks like a wounded dog that you kicked. But you find that you don't care at all. "You didn't have to call me out like that, you know." He mumbles but doesn't deny how right you are. "Plus how I was supposed to live without you? I felt so empty, so cold. But I didn't want to stop you from going home because it would hurt you. I can always destroy this prototype if you want, just please don't leave me again!"

He grabs both of your hands, holding onto them as if they were his lifesavers that keep him above the water so he won't drown while he stare at you without blinking, tiny little tears starting to run down his face. Now, can you forgive him or not?

[twice-inamillion]

The Company

Recruitment

Light smut and Story Building

Chapter 7

1,360 Words

(You take Jennie’s opinion into consideration and look for a reliable flight attendant. Some important decisions are made for the future of the company and a possible recruitment of someone special.) 

A few days have passed since you and Jennie fucked for the first time. The morning after, Jennie complained of soreness from your length and how wide you stretched her, “Daddy, I don’t think I’m going to be able to walk correctly for the next few days. Is it okay if I take a day or two off?”

You smile at Jennie and smack her ass, “Sure. You can tell your members you have a stomach bug, and I’ll let the coach know the group will take a break from practice.

“Thanks, Daddy,” giving you a hug. 

The first thing she did after recuperating was text you early in the morning, “Daddy, I’m all better now. How about going another round?”

You message her back, “It’s 6 in the morning, and you’re thinking about sex?”

“Yes, these past two days, I couldn’t think about anything besides your big cock stretching my small pussy.”

“Okay, how about tonight?”

“Actually, I’m outside your door, hehe”

You roll your eyes, get up from bed, walk towards the door, and check the screen, “Daddy, open up.” Jennie immediately lunges herself at you after you open the door, “Daddy, I missed you!”

“I missed you too, but you’re up so early.”

“It’s the only time I can sneak out without the members noticing.”

You smirk at her and say, “You’re a bad girl. Daddy needs to punish you for sneaking out.”

Jennie smiles, and your comment, “Daddy needs to punish me with his big cock. He should fuck me roughly and pump me with cum.”

You don’t even respond and instead, pick her up, walk towards the guest room, and toss her onto the bed. 

The two of you fuck until eight in the morning, showering together and having a light breakfast. “What are you reading there?”

“Just some resumes. I just purchased an airplane and am now looking for a flight attendant. These are some resumes I got sent over by one of my assistants.”

Jennie looks over your shoulder at the various applicants' pictures, “Oh, she looks pretty,” she says as she gets one of the applications. 

“You think so?”

“Yeah, you can see it in her eyes.”

“Hmm… you might be right.”

“What about hiring Jisoo’s sister? She’s about to graduate from flight attendant school.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, she’s really pretty. With her pale white skin and nice body, she might be your type.”

“Do you have a picture of her?”

Jennie pulls out her phone and scrolls through her photo album of Jisoo with her sister, “Here, take a look.”

“Wow, she's beautiful.”

“Right? You should hire her. Did you know that many flight attendants struggle to find work because it's a competitive field?”

“No, I didn’t know. Maybe I’ll let one of my assistants contact her.”

“I’ll ask Jisoo about it and let you know.”

“Thanks.”

—————— 

“Sir, Bang Si-hyuk replied back.”

“What did he say?”

“He said that he accepts your offer and is more than happy to partner with us.”

“Good, get the paperwork ready so we can have a final meeting. Also, tell him that I want to invest in his boy group, the one with the seven members.”

“Yes, I’ll get right on it.”

“What about Park Jin-young?”

He replied too, but asked for a bit more funding.”

“How much does he want?”

“About ten or fifteen percent more.”

“Haha, that man is greedy.”

“He is, sir; what do you want me to reply?”

“Tell him that I’ll accept, but I want the full transfer of his upcoming girl group to our site and any other female trainee in the future. I’ll send you more information.

“Thank you, sir.”

——————

A few weeks went by since Jennie mentioned Jisoo’s sister, the flight attendant. After giving it some thought, you considered her opinion and asked one of your hiring assistants to look into hiring Jisoo’s sister. Luckily, she was easy to get in touch with after getting the information from Jennie. 

“Hello, my name is Kim Ji-Yoon. I’ll be your flight hostess starting today,” she said as she bowed.

“Nice to meet you. Take a seat.”

Ji-yoon takes the seat across from you, and IU goes over the contract. “You will be a salaried worker. Here is the amount of money the company is offering,” sliding the piece of paper towards her.

Ji-yoon opened it, and her eyes widened. “Are you sure? This is a lot of money, much more than what they pay someone who’s working in the business for years.”

You respond, “Yes, I want to ensure you are rewarded nicely and expect your utmost discretion. You’re also Jisoo’s older sister, so I wanted to do something nice.”

“Thank you so much. I will do my best not to disappoint you.”

“I’m sure you won’t. Also, our first trip is going to be in a couple of days, so I hope you’re ready.”

“That's great, sir; where will we be going?”

“Japan.”

—————

“We will be landing in Japan shortly, sir.”

“Thank you, Ji-Yoon.”

“Would you like to drink?”

“I’m fine, thank you, though.”

“My pleasure,” she said, and she made her way to the attendant area on the plane. 

You watch as she walks down the passage, her nice-length skirt giving you a glaze at her toned thighs, “Damn, what a view.” 

The purpose of today is to visit and hopefully recruit a potential trainee after getting a couple of letters of recommendation from a dance studio. The head choreographer linked the company's recruitment account to multiple videos of their student. She praised her students' stage performance and talent, suggesting that someone visit and see them in person. 

The recruiters watched the videos were attached and gave you an idea of what to focus on after watching. You watch each video multiple times and can’t help but be amazed by her beauty and elegance. The way she performs is something that many people can imitate unless they’re a natural. 

After settling down at your hotel, you get in contact with the head choreographer and let them know that you will be arriving later that day. She thanks you for visiting and the opportunity to see one of her students. 

You arrived at the location before opening and were given a studio tour. Walking around, see the pictures of all the trainees, “Is this one her?” as you point at the photo. 

“Yes, that’s her.”

“Okay, nice to know.”

“She’ll be coming to the studio in about twenty minutes.”

“You seem nervous.”

“I am. She’s been with us for so long; we know that she can do much more out there.”

“You seem to care for her a lot.”

“Yes, which is why I emailed the company so you can see for yourselves.”

The person arrives twenty minutes later and sets their bag before entering the changing room. They come out in sweats and t-shirts and walk toward the center of the room before playing the starting the music. You hear the song begin, focusing on their dance movements and expressions.

You watch her dance to various types of music, but the one that caught your attention was when she danced ballet. The way she presented herself and moved with such elegance was heartwarming. You know that you needed to recruit her at all costs. 

The music stops, and you slowly walk out of the office and greet both the choreographer and the dancer. “That was amazing. Great job.”

The dancer bows, “Thank you so much for your compliment.”

“No, no, you deserve it.”

You see her get shy and play with her fingers from the attention. The choreographer steps in and says, as she points at you, “This is the person I told you about. He’s from Olympus Entertainment and came to see you perform.” 

She bows and says, “Thank you for visiting us. I’m Myoui Mina. It's nice to meet you.”  

[justmeinadaze]

Take It Out On Me Part 25 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: Shhhhhhh a gift I bare to you :)

Warnings: Daddy Steve/Sir Eddie & Sub Fem Plus Size Reader (with a slight twist to the dynamic this time), SMUT, they are trying new things, Y/N gets to use a toy on Stevie, dirty talk ABOUND, overstimulation, FLUFF, they love each other, ANGST, cliffhanger ending because I can :).

I am just all kinds of naughty with these cliffhangers lately. Maybe I need a spanking. ;).

Word Count: 3667

Series here

The Italian sun just barely begins to peak through the curtains as you try to muffle your moans into Steve’s chest in front of you as both he and Eddie’s cock thrust harder inside of you.

As the semester ended and you graduated, summer finally arrived so you and the guys were able to utilize the tickets to Italy that your parents got for your honeymoon. It was honestly the best week of your life so far and you didn’t think it possible that you could be any happier. 

The three of you went to all the tourist attractions you could find and ate some of the tastiest food you had ever had in your entire life. More than anything, you enjoyed seeing their faces as you three toured different cities and took in the new environment. For the first time, in a long time, neither man seemed to carry heavy burdens that weighed them down but let go and genuinely enjoy every little moment. 

Of course, when you weren’t walking through museums or eating at a new restaurant, they were on you and vice versa. So far, this entire trip, you had been unable to keep your hands off each other especially when you were alone. 

Last night, Steve had asked if you guys could finally do what he promised during that phone call when you first started dating. 

“What promise?”

“I said that I wished you had a toy so you could fall asleep with it inside you and imagine its me.”

“Oof, Steve Harrington, you kinky bastard.”, Eddie teased as his palm softly rubbed up and down your body.

The other boy grinned, gripping your jaw lightly as he leaned forward to tenderly kiss your lips as he continued in a low, seductive tone that had you groaning.

“I told you how hard it was making me at the thought of me and Eddie falling asleep inside of you so we could take you whenever we wanted in the night.”

“Daddy…”

“Fuck me, you want that don’t you dirty girl?”

“Yes, Daddy. Please.”, you moan as your fingers glide up to tangle in his hair trying to bring his lips to yours and whining when he ever so slightly pulled away. 

“Say it, sweetheart. Say what you want.”, the metalhead whispered as his hips began to grind against your ass. 

“Daddy, I want you and Master to fuck me and then fall asleep inside me so you can use me whenever you want tonight.”

That night they made you cum so many times that the evening became a blur of moans and grunts. You did fall asleep full of them but they were always still the diligent boyfriends, constantly checking in to make sure you were alright or ask if you needed a break. 

This morning, you woke up to the euphoria of them slowly pumping their cocks deep into you while trying not to wake you but failing miserably. 

“God damn it, Y/N, still so fucking tight.”, Steve groaned through gritted teeth as his fingers dug into the meat of your hips. 

“D-Daddy…I don’t—mmm—I don’t know how much more…I can take…”

They were both panting in your ears, all three of you trenched in sweat as you neared your climaxes. 

“It’s ok, baby girl. We just need you to—fuck—need you to cum one more time, honey.”

Eddie’s ring covered fingers looped around and took hold of your throat as they pounded into you. He was the first to find his release, clinging to you as he thrust his spend roughly into your ass. You shuddered, your nails digging into Steve’s back as you came making him follow you as your pussy clenched around him, warming your insides as your cunt milked him dry. 

“Slow, slow, baby please.”, you begged as each man pulled out as carefully as they could. 

“Princess, I’m going to lift you and bring you to the bath when Stevie finishes getting it ready, ok? Are you ok, Y/N?”, he asked as he delicately moved your hair out of the way so he could see your face as tears fell from your eyes.

“Yes, Sir. I’m just sore.”

“I know, sweetheart, but you did so good for us. Always such a good girl.”

You smiled as you pushed up onto your knees and wrapped your arms around his neck, inhaling everything that was Eddie as he kissed your cheek. 

“I love you, baby.”

“I love you to, Eddie.”

Smiling, he lifted you into his arms and brought you into the bathroom, trying his best not to jostle you to much as he placed you in the warm water. 

“So, what’s on the itinerary for today, honey?”, Steve asked as they both began cleaning you. 

“Can we do something new?”

“Define new, babe. I mean we’re in a new country exploring things that are new.”, the metalhead joked as you giggled. 

“I mean, I like the idea of us staying in this fancy hotel all day eating delicious Italian food while staying and playing in bed but… I want to try something new. It’s been a while since we’ve done that and the honeymoon is a perfect place to try, right?”

“Did you have something in mind, princess?”

“There’s a store we passed in the market the other day and I was thinking we could go take a look around. Maybe…I mean, if you’re comfortable…you can let me…take…control.”

Your eyes squeezed tightly shut as their hands stopped moving. It feels like ages before fingers grip your chin and turn your head slightly. 

“Open your eyes, baby girl.” 

Like a child, your hair smacks your cheeks as you aggressively shake your head. 

“Come on, sweetheart.”, Eddie cooed, wrapping his arms around you and bringing you to his chest. “We’re not upset. There’s nothing wrong with what you want to try.”

Your eyes slowly open meeting Steve’s soft ones in front of you as he smiles comfortingly. 

“We don’t have to do it for long. I was just wondering…what it was like…you know?”

“There’s something I read about once that has always kind of lingered in my head. I’d be willing to try it with you.”

“O-Ok, Daddy.”

###################

Once you three were clean and put together you did make a run to the market where not only did you grab all the food and alcohol you guys could carry but made a pit stop at the store you had mentioned to pick up the item you would need. 

“Steve, baby, are you sure about this? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“I’m sure. I trust you.”, he grins as he kisses your forehead. “Plus, Eddie will be there to guide you and watch out for me.”

When you got back to the hotel, you spent the rest of the evening relaxing and giggling with them on the floor of the hotel while you ate and talked. You made a little comfortable pillow area where the three of you could lay down even though you utilized them to lay your head throughout the evening. 

“Baby, no!”, you shout light-heartedly after the flash from Eddie’s disposable camera blinds you. You hold up your hand to block him as he moves around to try and capture another image as you pull your bare legs under his long heavy metal shirt you were wearing. 

“Oh, come on, princess. I’m going to put these in my private stash.”, he teases. 

“What private stash?!”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Steve chuckles behind you, taking you in his arms, and pulling you flat against the floor making you laugh harder as the metalhead takes another picture of you both. 

“So, are we doing this thing or not. I’m kind of curious to see princess here use her big girl voice.”, Eddie jokes as you roll your eyes. 

“Honestly, that’s probably how it’s going to come out.”, you giggle as he lays on the other side of you. “Little girl pretending…”

“Eh, that just makes it cuter.”

“And hotter.”, Steve adds as his thumb caresses your cheek. Lying flat on his stomach, you had begun doing what you usually do which was running your fingers along his arm that was across your chest and down his back causing him to let out a little moan every now and then. 

Eddie was leaning his on his elbow, looking down at you with nothing but love as his own palm ran continuously along your thighs and up your tummy. 

“Try it, sweetheart. Try telling him what to do.”

Steve smirked as he opened his eyes, scooting closer to you till his nose was touching yours. 

“C-Can I still call you Daddy? Is that ok?”

“Yeah, baby. If that’s what you want.”, he whispers as his breath warms your lips. “Tell Daddy what you want me to do.”

“I want you to kiss me, please.”

“Please?”, the metalhead snickered. “Y/N, that first night do you remember us saying please?”

Steve’s soft gorgeous eyes met yours encouragingly waiting for the proper command.

“Kiss me, Daddy.”

Tilting forward, his lips tenderly kissed your lips before trailing down your cheek to your neck. A moan escaped your chest that even had Eddie licking his lips beside you as he watched your eyes flutter closed as you rubbed your thighs together to relieve the ach between them. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

Absently, your hand grabbed at the air, searching for the other man that you loved until you found what you were looking for, lightly yanking on his hair to bring him down to your neck. As they both kissed and sucked on your flesh, their hands roamed but Steve wanted to test you. His fingers drifted under your shirt between your legs and roughly cupped you sex making you groan loudly. 

You have no idea where the confidence came from but your palm abruptly grabbed his wrist pulling him back as your tone drops. 

“Did I tell you that you could do that?” Both their heads leaned up to look at your face as a little shudder ran through your body. “Whoa.”

“How did that feel?”, Eddie asked, a little quiver of his own shaking his voice. 

“Odd but… good. Did I go too far?”

“Baby, we just started.”, Steve groaned, biting his bottom lip before taking a hold of your hand and placing it on the bulge in his boxers. “Don’t be afraid, honey. You’re doing great. Do you feel what that did to me? That tone coming out of those sexy lips got Daddy so fucking hard. Let go, Y/N, and fully step into it. It’s ok.”, he whispered. 

Pushing him onto his back, you straddle him as your lips sloppily mingle with his while Eddie presses to your side and tosses away the shirt you’re wearing. 

“You have to get him ready, baby.” Both you and Steve had begun grinding against each other, your already soaking cunt trenching his underwear. “Come on, pretty girl.”

Groaning, you leaned down to kiss Steve’s lips, dragging them down his chest until he grunted in frustration as you moved your lower half away from his. 

“Aw, poor pathetic Daddy wants my wet pussy so bad, doesn’t he?”

“Fuck me… yeah, baby girl, I do.”

“What else do you want me to do, Daddy?”

“I-I-I want you to touch me, baby, please.”

“I am touching you, honey.”

You were in a complete state of bliss as you watched his breathing stutter at your words. Mimicking his own words back to him was making Steve practically feral as his large palms took hold of both sides of your face as his upper torso twisted up so he could press his forehead to yours. 

“Please, Y/N, Daddy needs to feel your hand around my dick. Please, baby. FUCK, you’re driving me crazy.”

Panting against your lips, he watched as you brought your palm to your tongue and licked along the skin, moaning as you did what he asked. 

“Like this, Daddy?”

“Just like that, baby. Shit.”

After he fell back against the floor, you smiled seductively at Eddie who wrapped his arms around you and adjusted you till you were on all fours hovering over Steve’s length. Placing his chest on your back, the metalhead reached underneath you and you both groaned as he slid his fingers through your folds. 

“Jesus, princess. You like having this control?”, he whispers in your ear. 

“I like watching you two—mmm—come undone.”

Your eyes rolled as he pushed two fingers inside of your core and Steve whimpered as you enveloped his cock into your mouth.

“There you go, princess. You always look so good with your mouth full of us, pretty girl.”, Eddie praises as he kisses your temple. “Are you ready, babe?”

A long line of drool dangles from your lips as you come off the man below you and nod your head. 

“Daddy, are you ready?”

“Fuck, yeah, baby, please.”

“Now, Steve, I’m not going to touch you or anything ok. It’s all going to be her but I am going to guide her so I may need to look.”

“It’s ok. I’m comfortable if you’re comfortable.”

“If at any point you do get uncomfortable…”

Steve grins as he tilts up and quickly captures your lips before lying back down. 

“I’ll say Vanilla. I promise, honey.”

Bringing you up to your knees, Eddie leans you into his lap as he reaches off to the side and grabs the bottle of lube.

“Focus, sweetheart.”, he teases when he feels you grind your ass against him.

Taking a hold of your hand, he squeezes just enough to coat your fingers before lightly walking you closer to the other man. 

“Ok, baby, you’re going to get him nice and wet so take your hand…”, Eddie instructs as you slide your digits between Steve’s ass. 

His stomach tightens when you graze his hole making you pause as your eyes meet his. 

“No, it’s alright. Keep going, baby.”

“You’re doing good, Y/N.”, the metalhead coos as he kisses your shoulder. “Whenever you both are ready, you’re going to want to slide those fingers into him so you can stretch him out just like we do with you, angel.”

Opening his legs wider to grant you more access, Steve gives you firm nod signaling he was ready when you were. Carefully, you pushed your middle finger into him, groaning when you noticed his cock twitch at the feeling. 

“Is this ok, Daddy?”, you breathily moan, completely turned on by the heavy breathing that was coming from his lips. 

“Yeah…yes…fuck…I’m ok.”

“How does it feel, baby?”

“Feels…feels good.”

“Yeah? You’re…you’re just sucking me in.”

Steve’s head fell back against the floor as you slowly began moving your finger faster inside him. 

“Fuck, pretty girl, I just want to fuck you so bad. Would it distract you if Master fucked you, sweetheart?”, Eddie asked, tone dripping with intense need.

“No, Sir. Please. I need you inside of me. Daddy, I’m going to use another finger, ok?” Steve didn’t respond verbally, his back arching as he reached down to stroke his cock. “Answer me, Steven.”, you growled.

All movement ceased again as his needy eyes met yours just as the boy behind you gathered his bearings and your mouth fell open as he guided his length inside of your cunt. 

“Ok, baby girl. Go ahead.”

As your ring finger joined your other, he mewled loudly as he continued to pump himself at your rhythm.

“Fuck, Daddy. You’re so tight and warm… like me.”

Eddie was thrusting into you at a pace and intensity that told you he wasn’t going to last long as he slammed into you like a man possessed. 

“Sir! I…I can’t breathe. Fuck! So…deep…”

The metalhead leaned against your back again, clinging to your body as he rolled his hips roughly. 

“You can breathe, baby. J-Just keep focusing on the moment. Goddamn… just hearing you talk so dirty like this… I feel like a fucking virgin… I’m gonna cum, sweetheart.”

“Fill me up, Sir, please!”

His ringed fingers travelled between your legs and rubbed your clit in fast circles, both of you moaning and panting as you came at the same time. Yanking back up on your knees, he hugged you to him as he did what you asked, placing open mouth kisses along your skin as he did. 

“I love you, Eddie.”

Chuckling softly, he kissed your lips before releasing you from his hold. 

“I love you to, Y/N. Here. Use this on the thing.”

As he lazy continued to stroke himself, Steve watched as you collected the dildo you guys bought today and lathered in a generous amount of lube before placing yourself between his legs again.

“I love you to, Steve. Are you ready?”

“I love you, Y/N. Yeah, just go slow at first.”

“Of course, baby.”, you coo as you position the head of the toy near his entrance. 

It was a modest size dildo, much smaller than the two of them but it still had Steve clenching as you gradually began pressing into him.

“Breathe, honey. You’re doing so good.”, you praise him the way they always praise you. “Taking me so well.” You smile when he gently laughs, smirking in your direction. “How does it feel, Daddy?”

“H-hurts a little but…good.”

“Do you need me to stop or anything?”

“No…fuck…I think…” As you push it a bit further in, you feel resistance as he tightens around it and his dick stiffens in his hand as a moan you had never heard from him before echoes through the room. “Oh my fucking GOD…”

“Is that the spot? Right here?”

“Ooooo! Yes, Y/N! Don’t fucking stop.”

Placing on of your arms down beside him, you tilt your face over his as you whisper against his lips. 

“Was this what it was like the first time, Steve? When you had me flat against the desk with my legs hanging off the side and you pounded your big cock into my tight little pussy?” You grinned as his free hand searched for you, gripping your bicep as he groans. “You felt so good, baby. When I went home, I could still feel you both.”

Eddie beamed up at you from his spot on the floor as he comfortingly rubbed your back. Steve abruptly opened his eyes, the dominate side reentering him as his palm took hold of your throat.

“I need to feel your cunt around my dick, honey. NOW.”

Nodding, you straddle him with your back facing his chest, mewling as you bring yourself down onto his extremely hard length. His fingers dig into your hips as you ride him hard while still thrusting the toy into his ass.

“Y-Yes, Daddy!”

Steve shudders underneath you as he tries to hold himself back desperate for you to cum first so he can feel you cling to him. 

“Come on, baby girl. Please…I need you to cum for me.”

Licking his fingers, Eddie helps you along, reaching between your legs and playing with your clit again. Right as your body trembles and you let go, Steve does the same, thrusting up into you hard as he fills you with his release. His hold on you remains steadfast till he’s completely emptied inside of you, making you groan in pleasure and exhaustion as you start to fall forward before the metalhead hastily catches you. 

“Whoa, baby. I got you. I gotcha, sweetheart.”

Leaning against his shoulder, you careful pull the toy from the man under you and Eddie gradually lifts you off his lap, lying you flat on the floor with your head on the pillow. 

“So…thoughts?”

“I like watching you both get riled up but I’m definitely not a dominate girl.”, you grin.

“Could have fooled me.”, Eddie teased. “Dirty girl with that sexy dirty mouth.”

“I think that toy we save special occasions but, Munson, you should let her finger you while sucking your dick. Oh my god.”, Steve playfully exhaled as he turned onto his side to face you. “You did good, honey.”

“Thank you for being patient with me and being willing to try something new.”

“Of course, sweetheart. You don’t have to thank us for that. You’re always so open with us when it comes to this stuff.  

You smile wide as you rub your face into the pillow. 

“Oh, I hate that we have to go home soon. I wish we could just stay here forever.”

“Well, when Ed becomes a famous rockstar, he can finally treat us like the king and queen we are.”

“Oh, really, Harrington? And what am I in this huh; the jester?”, he sasses as Steve laughs.

“No, baby. You’re a king to.”, you confirm as you turn your head to kiss his lips. 

################

“I’m coming! Hang on one damn second!”, Masie shouts as someone pounds loudly on her front door. As soon as she cracks it open you come barreling through, sobbing as you begin to pace in her living room. “Y/N? What’s wrong, honey?! What happened?!”

“I fucked up, Maze. They are going to hate me, I know it!”

“Who?”

“Eddie and Steve! And my parents are going to be so disappointed. I can’t lose them again! Fuck! What am I going to do?!”

“Y/N! Breathe!”, your best friend commands as she grabs your arms and forces you to stand still before cupping your face in her hands. “Now, those men love you. Nothing you could do would make them hate you. Y/N, stop.”, she tried to soothe as you shook your head. “Stop. Calm down and tell me what happened. You know I’m here for you no matter what. We can get through anything together.”

“I don’t know how you can fix this, Masie.”

“Not with that attitude, we can’t. Come on, honey. What’s going on?”

Wiping your eyes, you walk over to her couch as she follows to sit beside you.

“I’m pregnant.”

################

@manda-panda-monium @sherrylyn628 @eddiesguitarskills

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[asterias-record-shop]

mommy kink dave lizewski please and thank you ? 😋 i love your work sm and would be so happy if you decided to write this !!!! 💓😖

╭════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╮

— make me a mommy

╰════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╯

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪

Nympho! Reader who never wants to stop having sex after her and Dave take each other’s virginity and wants him to get her pregnant so they can start their family early. **also, lactating can start as early in a pregnancy as a few weeks

“Dave, stop it!” You whine, tugging on his shirt as he leaned over the table looking at ads that were put out saying ‘NOW HIRING’ in big letters. “We bought a house and daddy’s covering the bills for a year, you don’t need to work!”

We didn’t buy a house, your family bought a house for you both to live in. You were a daddy’s girl, and whatever you wanted, your father was surely going to get it for you no matter how much of a dent it put into his extremely deep pockets. Your father didn’t necessarily like Dave, but he didn’t necessarily dislike him either - he just wanted you to be happy.

Dave wanted you to be happy too, he really did, or he wouldn’t have proposed right after graduation. He was looking for a job so that he didn’t live up to your family's expectations of being a horrible person for you to marry. Dave truly did want you to be happy with him, and make sure your parents loved him just as much as you did - not in the same way though, of course.

"I'm almost done, baby, let me just put in this application in." Dave mumbled, inhaling as you slowly came behind him, rubbing his shoulders as you pressed soft kisses to his neck.

"Come on baby, we have stuff to get to remember? I'm ovulating and I found positions for us to try because missionary gets boring," you whispered, your hands pushing down his shirt as you looked over his shoulder at the applications. "You as a firefighter would be pretty hot."

"I don't know about that, honey," he whispered back with a sigh. "You got to go to school and training and whatever."

"What about that?" You suggest, tapping the position for an IT technician. "My daddy said they need one at his company. He can get you a good salary."

Dave shook his head, sighing. "No baby, I don't want any more handouts from your dad. I think a weapons dealer would be hot, don't you?"

You laughed, shaking your head as you tapped another square about the military. "What about that?"

"How would I be able to do that-"

"You being Kick-Ass and not having pain sensors in most of your body," you responded, giggling. "Come on, I would make an amazing military wife. Now put those up..." you pushed the magazines to the side, humming. "And come put a baby in me."

Dave swallowed as you grabbed his wrist, tugging him to your shared room as easily opened the door before jumping on the bed. "So, the article said that if I leaned over the bed a little bit, the sperm will find its way past the cervix quicker because of gravity. Do you think that's true?"

Dave blushed, shrugging. "I-I mean... gravity is real?"

You giggled, sitting up only to slip off your clothes before your stomach started to twist. You burped softly, covering your mouth before rushing to the bathroom and leaning over the toilet. You groaned loudly as you vomited into the toilet, Dave immediately following you and pulling back your hair while holding your shoulder.

For fucks sake, was this it?

When you finally stopped, he passed you a water bottle he got from your shared bedroom, watching as you swashed the water in your mouth before gurgling it and spitting it out. "David, give me a test."

"Y-Yes ma'am," he pulled out the drawer, grabbing you one of the tests as you stood and flushed the toilet, quickly doing your business and cleaning yourself up before flushing and pacing. "Y/N, honey, it's going to be okay."

"I want to be pregnant, Dave," you whisper, inhaling as you push back his hair. "I want to be pregnant with your baby, want to have so many babies with you. I want to be a mommy, Dave."

"You'll be an amazing mommy," Dave assured you, holding your hips as he stared down at your tits. They were already fuller; you had said that lactation can start as early as three weeks after talking to your gynecologist. "Such an amazing mommy."

You paused, looking down at your tits with a slight smile. "Do you want to see if it's... happening?"

He blushed, shaking his head. "I-I don't... I don't think that's right, honey."

"Why does it matter? They're not born yet, they don't need it," you whisper, smiling as you looked back. "Shall we see if it's true?"

"Of course."

You turned around and gasped, squealing. "I'm pregnant!"

Holy shit.

You jumped into his open arms, giggling as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, Dave spinning you around in excitement. "We're going to be parents! You're going to be a mommy, holy shit," Dave laughed as you stroked his cheeks. "You're going to be the most amazing mommy ever."

"And you're going to be the best daddy ever," you giggled, smiling as his hands ghost the sides of your tummy, eyes trained on your pretty tits. "Want to see if it's happening? We could celebrate with it."

"What, are you going to be my mommy too?" He teased, watching as your cheeks started to tint, smiling down at him. "Oh."

"Well come on. I'm going to be a mommy soon, I should get used to someone calling me that."

Maybe that's how you got here, Dave sucking on your tits as his hips rutted uncontrollably against yours, desperate to be deeper inside of you. "F-Fuck mommy, fuck, you taste so good, I need more."

You were so out of it, your hips unconsciously bucking into his in desperation to cum, to get that high as his hands paw at your tits, squeezing and letting his thumbs glide over your nipples. "I-It's early, Dave, maybe there's not much!"

He had been sucking and pinching, making you cum at least three times just from his work on your tits, oversensitivity flooding your entire body. Every thrust he made had you seeing white, every slide of his thumbs along your hard, pebbled nipple making your eyes roll back, each drag of his cock along your walls and his tip hitting what felt like your cervix.

"You said constant stimulation will make it produce more, right? Please, please mommy, I need more," he groaned, cursing when none was squeezed out of your tit. "Fuck!"

"D-Dave, there's no more, fuck! Just wait, wait a few minutes." You whimpered, staring down at your swollen nipples, gasping when he pulled it back into his mouth.

"Just a little longer, mommy? Please?"

You inhaled, sighing. "Okay."

What kind of mom would you be if you said no, hm?

Taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪   𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪   𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪   𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪   𓆩[@xyzstar]𓆪  𓆩[@just-my-shit]𓆪   𓆩[@your-mom21]𓆪   𓆩[@c78r]𓆪   𓆩[@dizscreams]𓆪   𓆩[@copypastedaphne]𓆪   𓆩[@asrt5]𓆪   𓆩[@xoxomoonlightbabe]𓆪   𓆩[@f-aggotry]𓆪

© asterias-record-shop

[respectthepetty]

Yin (of YinWar) is PETTY

And I have 29 pictures to prove it!

Background info: Yin and War have their vlog where they upload videos of them doing . . . well, whatever they want, so today's adventure was going to be of them eating at a restaurant that Yin wanted to go to, but War demanded they go to a different restaurant with chickens roaming around, even though he wanted to eat fish at the restaurant.

Yin abided and found a restaurant that fit War's criteria. He called War when he got there THREE TIMES but War didn't answer. Yin was bothered because he thought his buddy had gotten in an accident or something. Finally, someone answered War's phone and said they had kidnapped him. Yin thought it was a joke, until the exact moment he didn't think it was joke.

Then, we get the dumbest flashback to War leaving his house in the most ridiculous outfit to meet Yin only to get hit over the head and dragged back into his house.

The kidnappers tell Yin they will start cutting War's fingers if he doesn't give into their demands. After looking very stressed and upset, Yin finally figures out that this is War's version of the early 2000s American show Punk'd and decides to get petty.

He tells the waiter to box up War's food, but to bring him his plate. Then, the man eats stating that "[War] is a survivor. He can survive."

Then, Yin decides to get dessert.

Mind you that this entire time, War is still tied up.

And he is getting pissy waiting around, so the kidnappers remind him who is in charge and to stfu.

They put him in the cage (dunk tank with blocks of ice in the water), and wait for Yin to figure out where War is. Yin must answer questions to figure out the location and his first question is about an animal, which Yin incorrectly answers is a chicken since he is being PETTY and upset that War made him go to that restaurant for chickens that he didn't even wanna eat.

War gets dunked.

Next, Yin is told to go to a place where he refills his energy when he is down, and once he gets there, he needs to dance for the angel. He asks for clues, so he gets hit with a riddle - How many dwarves are in Cinderella. He answers "seven" even though there are no dwarves in Cinderella.

War gets dunked again.

Yin keeps getting more questions, and keeps getting them wrong showing this is a Pinky and the Brain relationship with him and War, and clearly, Yin is not The Brain.

The kidnappers start taunting War about how much Yin doesn't love him since Yin can't seem to answer one damn question correctly when Google is literally at his fingertips.

But then War starts to embrace the cold, which is good since his ass is getting dunked a shit ton because of Yin's pettiness.

War is resigned to his fate with each passing moment as he slowly comes to the conclusion that Yin is dumb.

But thankfully, Yin has finally figured out the place with the clue to where War is being held which just happens to be War's mom's house since that is a place Yin goes to when he is down (awwww!). He has to dance for the angel, who is War's mom (awwww x2!), but the whole family is there and it takes a minute for Yin to get over his shyness to dance for the location where War is being held (which, if you remember, is War's house).

Meanwhile, War has a light bulb moment, and puts 2 and 2 together.

Yin is fucking smart! He graduated WITH HONORS in computer engineering. How the fuck does he keep getting these fucking easy ass questions wrong?!

Pettiness is the answer

But before War can get properly upset, Yin rushes in to rescue him screaming "P! P'War!" and in an Oscar-worthy performance, War puts on the softest voice begging Yin to get him out.

While Yin records the entire thing claiming he is too dumb to get War out.

War tells him that to get out, Yin has to solve another riddle, so Yin (being petty) hands a shivering War the camera while telling him not to drop it in the water. War's smart mouth tells Yin to not worry about him only the camera since he is already addicted to the pain of the water.

Because of that, Yin decides to stay on his bullshit and takes forever with the riddle while War is FREEZING!

Finally, War snaps and starts yelling answers at Yin.

But he fucks up and says that Star Wars has only six movies instead of nine, so Yin takes a moment to berate War for that since WAR is the big Star Wars fan.

Finally, it's time to get War out, but instead of using the key that would release the water from the tub, Yin says "fuck this kid" (even though War is older) and pushes the button so War falls one more time as War is screaming for him not to.

War is upset and starts questioning Yin even while Yin is helping him out of the tank because it's so interesting that Yin has a waterproof jacket on. Sooooooo. Interesting.

So War slaps him!

After getting dried up a bit and warmed up, War immediately starts questioning what the fuck took Yin so long.

Yin blames the traffic saying that Bangkok traffic is 🎶The Worst🎶 and somehow, War agrees with this bullshit.

But he is still upset and questions Yin's intelligence. Yet he continues to do all of this in the softest angry voice I've ever heard. It's like he is scolding his child but doesn't want his kid to cry. It's adorable.

War asks if he is hungry (since they were supposed to eat like eight hours ago), and Yin unintentionally states that he already ate, but Yin plays his final card to guarantee that War doesn't get mad at him, and tells War that his mom bullied him. This shit works. War isn't upset anymore.

Pettiness wins!

But not before War fesses up that he just wanted to do this because it fit with Jack & Joker and Songkran. Yin doesn't seem pleased with War's reasoning for putting him through all of this.

But I loved it!

If I even get a quarter of these shenanigans in Jack & Joker, I will be thrilled!

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 43

PREV

FF is a pretty good student. Solid Bs in his Gen-eds and As in regard to his major. With one C+ that he’s still working on with Captain Neil but it’s higher than the D+ that he had been pulling before Captain Neil had started to tutor him and he really just needs to pass the one gen-ed required math class.

There was many a deep breathing exercise before he made an appointment with his educational advisor for the next semester back in October but it hadn’t been that bad even though she was the one that had asked if he knew anyone good at math since it obviously was not a strong suit of his. So he dragged his grade up from a D+ to a C+ and he was pretty proud of that.

FF has a preferred spot in each and every one of his classrooms. In his Gen-Ed courses he sits in spots that the Professors don’t even notice and where there is almost always a gap between him and the next person. He arrives perfectly almost late every single day for every single class he can to achieve this feat.

For his Major classes he sits near the front with the few Foreign Language major friends that he has.

FF likes to be prepared. Studying was a nice way to prepare for the future. If he’s already read the entire textbook front to back and taken notes then a pop quiz can’t catch him off guard. He double, triple, and quadruple checks homework. He could probably recite the syllabus for any of his classes off the top of his head. He has read it so much to make sure he’s gotten everything and is on track.

FF kind of likes finals week.

For once, for one week, everyone is as anxious as him.

He sits next to Nicky patting his back as his friend sobs into a pillow. “I’m not going to graduate and it’s going to delay seeing Erik by an entire year!” Nicky yells as he brings his face out of the pillow.

“Nicky, you only got one flashcard wrong how about you shut the fuck up!” Aaron yells from his desk where he seems to have spontaneously developed ambidextrousness as he writes notes with both hands. “Fuck I am NEVER fitting all of this one one index card.” Aaron slams his face into the table.

“I don’t even need this degree.” Matt says looking down at a textbook that he has not turned a page on for the last hour. The fact that Matt had also not even opened that textbook before now was a bit of a cause for concern. “I’ve already got offers for professional teams. I can just play Exy. I do not need to pass a workplace psychology course.” Matt says.

“You think Dan wants an idiot?!” Nicky demands not wanting to go down alone.

“She thinks it’s cute that I’m stupid!” Matt exclaims.

“No she doesn’t!” Aaron points at him, “She said and I quote ‘I love it when you use that big ol sexy brain of yours.’ the last time you had her on speaker phone!” he uses a slightly more…effeminate voice when he impersonates Dan but FF had spoken with Dan and to his memory she did not sound like that.

“Fuck you’re right she deserves an all rounder!” Matt cries, head in his hands.

“Why do I even have to TAKE this Gen-Ed about history?” Nicky demands now holding onto FF as if he were a teddy bear.

“So that we’re well-rounded individuals with a wider perspective on-”

“Smithy, my sweet child, I was not looking for an answer.” he feels Nicky’s hand come up to his hair and maybe he’s being treated more like a favored pet?

“You’re having trouble with a Gen-Ed?!” Aaron asks turning around in his seat, “That’s embarrassing.” he turns his nose up.

“I’m having trouble with something that is going to be useless in my adult life.” Nicky says as if he were not currently an adult. “You are having issues with a class that will have huge ramifications on your future if you don’t manage to learn it!” Nicky points out.

“Eat my shorts Nicky.” Aaron hisses.

“Maybe I could study if you would wash your shorts Aaron. I can smell your laundry pile from over here!” Matt spits.

The fight devolved from there and FF slipped out of the dorm as Nicky was holding a chair over his head to seemingly throw at Matt for his ‘unreasonable number of sticky notes messing up the flow of Nicky’s studying’.

He heard a crash.

“It’s probably fine.” he says to himself and he has his index cards with the speech he has to give for and he really should go over to talk with Captain Neil.

He walks to Captain Neil, Andrew, and Kevin’s door and- “There faster-!”

FF walks away from Captain Neil, Andrew, and Kevin’s door, remembering only in this moment that Kevin had declared that he would be “Living in the library until this paper is done or I am.” to the team at the last practice of the year.

Captain Neil and Andrew were never the type to waste an empty dorm room.

He misses Pepto Bismol as he hears a particularly dirty line of Russian coming from his Captain’s dorm room.

***

Eventually Finals week is done and dusted with only 4-5 more blow-ups in his dorm room that result in Nicky, Aaron, and Matt stopping their fight to see if they accidentally had knocked him out with all of the thrown debris (only happened once when Aaron threw a textbook that Nicky ducked but he didn’t.)

FF came out of his final…final feeling pretty good all around. He had managed to get some extra tutoring time with Captain Neil after Kevin managed to finish his history paper a little early. Despite all of their fears and complaints Aaron, Nicky, and Matt all did manage to pass all of their finals and their classes.

The Tower was closing tomorrow for the rest of the year and despite checking almost every day with Nicky he still was invited to go to New York City with most of the team to stay at Allison’s house.

“Smithy, did you pack a swimsuit?” Nicky asks.

“Nicky, we’re going to New York for Christmas break. Do you think we’re going to swim?” Aaron asks incredulously.

“Two words, my fetus of a cousin: Hot. Tub.” Nicky holds his hand up and putting one finger up and then another. “Is hot tub two words?” Matt asks as he reaches for his own swim trunks.

“Yes Matt hot tub is two words.” FF says nodding.

“Thank you Smithster.” Matt says.

“I can’t believe you don’t know that hot tub is two words.” Aaron says with a huff.

“I can’t believe that you don’t know how to not be an asshole even after you started getting regular sex with Katelyn.” Matt returns, “Look at how not a thing that was when Smithster answered it.” he gestures to FF.

“You cannot compare Smithy to Aaron. Apples and Tomatoes.” Nicky dismisses.

“Whatever, so Allison got a hot tub at her place?” Aaron moves past the conversation.

“Aaron you just made fun of Matt for asking stupid questions.” Nicky says with a hand on his cheek.

“I fucking hate being part of your family.” Aaron says without any real heat.

“Yeah sure.” Nicky says, rolling his eyes and smiling as he saw Aaron packing swim trunks that FF knew he had bought for his cousin.

“Okay, I’ve got the packing list that Allison sent. Do we wanna run through it so that we’re all properly packed?” Matt says holding up his phone.

“Yeah, let’s run through it.” Nicky says with a sigh.

They went through Allison’s provided list twice and then zipped up their suitcases. Smith was going to be driving to the airport with Matt. Neil and Andrew were going to be driving the Maserati up alone while the rest of them were going to be flying up to New York City.

Now onto something that filled FF with far more dread than simply passing tests that determined whether or not he continued to get a free ride in college.

Meeting new people.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

[lightwing-s]

Can you do a JasonxReader where the reader graduated college and Jason finds a special way to celebrate?

It was all finally over. You’re a college graduate now. Seems like it was only yesterday that you started this journey, but it has finally come to an end.

You felt strange, happy and sad at the same time, stressed with finals and your thesis presentation, and all the planning for the graduation ceremony occupying your head. 

And Jason noticed, and stood by you through everything, helped you with anything, and stood there with the biggest smile on his face watching you walk on stage to get your diploma.

After lunch with your parents and an afternoon spent with your friends, Jason was ready to have you just to himself. “Psh” you heard him whistle at you, immediately turning around to find him hiding in a corner, head poking outside just enough to get your attention. Checking to see if nobody had noticed, you sneaked away in his direction.

“What are you doing?” you asked, amusement evident in your voice as you watched him fill his backpack with food and champagne bottles.

“Rescuing us.” he answered, grabbing your hand and dragging you out of your friend’s apartment. 

Laying your head on his lap, giggles filling the air as the empty champagne bottles decorated the makeshift picnic blanket you’d made out of curtain Jason had stolen from your friend’s house, you two watched the moon rise from the now deserted Robinson Park. Jason’s fingers playing with your hair, as you stuffed the last bits of cake into your and his mouth.

“I’m so fucking proud of you, babe.“ he blurted out.

“Stop it.” you told him, feeling the redness climb up your cheeks for the millionth time today. “I just got a degree.”

“And I’m not supposed to be proud of this? I’m not supposed to be proud my girlfriend is a fucking genious? That she’s now a graduated boss bitch?” he said, holding your face in his hands and spreading kisses all over it.

“Stop, Jay.” you moaned, not holding back the laughs from coming out.

“No!” he screamed, tangling his body on yours and rolling you both on the “blanket”.

You spent some time like that, tangled in each other, cuddling under the moonlight, between kisses and laughter, and many more “I'm proud of you” from your very proud boyfriend.

“I have something for you.” he told you, reaching for a pocket in his backpack and taking out of it a large velvet box. “I thought of you as soon as I saw it.”

Sitting back up, you took the box from his hands and carefully opened it, feeling by it’s weight it was something much more expensive than you were used to gifting each other. You wanted to complain, to tell him you didn’t need his expensive gifts, that just these moments you got to spend with him was enough to make you happy. But opening the box left you in awe, and all thoughts of complaint left your mind.

There laid a thin delicate gold necklace, adorned with pearls and tiny crystals that sparkled brighter than the moon itself. It was ethereal, a piece of jewelry you’d never seen before and you couldn’t have ever imagined. “Jay, I-I…” you tried, but no words formed on your lips.

“Yes, you can. It’s yours, it’s my graduation present. So please, Yn, take it.” Looking up at him, his eyes reinforced his wish for you to take his present and you could not deny. Taking it from the box, you dropped it in his hands.

“Can you put it on me?” you asked, turning around so your back hit his chest. His soft touch tickled your skin, putting the accessory  in place and laying a kiss at nape of your neck, arms soon engulfing you in a tight embrace as his lips continuously met the sensitive area behind your ear.

“I’ll forever be proud of you, princess. Even if you think it’s not worth it, that it might be a small achievement, I’ll be proud. Because I know you are bound to greatness and it’s my biggest happiness to watch you succeed, and I want to be there every step of the way by your side. I love you, and I know you can do anything you want. So yes, I’ll be proud of it, of every little thing, of every silly thing. Because I love you, Yn, more than anything in this world.”

[dear-ao3]

how i met my boyfriend - the designer axe story

as promised, since we have both now graduated the statute of limitations has expired on this story and i can now share it all with you.

some notes: ra is resident assistant and this story occurred in august of 2021. i wrote this all out the day after it happened almost 2 years ago. we did not actually start dating until october 2021 after we both realized we were in love with eachother. yes, we are still together as of may 2023.

without any further ados, the much anticipated designer axe story.

so part of RA training is that we have to make door decorations and bulletin boards for our halls and buildings. i had finished my door decks at 1 am sunday morning and the bulletin boards weren't due until 9 am monday morning. so i had all of sunday to work on it.

my building has no less than seven bulletin boards per floor and an additional 4 on the entrance floor. i dont know who the hell built this building but we need to have a serious talk about when too many bulletin boards is too many fucking bulletin boards.

so i was in charge of three on my floor. one about me, one covid policies and one sloth (his name is sam and i love him). and i am a chronic procrastinator. so i finished my about me and got through about 95% of my covid one by like 9pm and had to go back to the res life office to cut out a few more letters and get some scrapbook paper.

at this point its probably important to know that the only people on campus at this point were the RAs, some students getting mentoring training, and a few random first years here for an early arrival program. plus some staff.

now, i need you all to understand that there are 42 RAs. all of us have the same deadline. all of us had between 2 and 5 bulletin boards to complete. plus door decks. and room condition reports. so we were all moving at literally 600 frames per second, 120 miles per hour, or about as fast as a child does when they are told there's cake.

which is to say, we were all frazzled and stressed out of our minds.

so i open the door to the res life office at around 9 pm to cut out the word "but" in orange construction paper and grab 2 sheets of purple scrapbooking paper. in the office are the four RAs that were on duty that night, plus a good 7 other people are running around asking about glue sticks and construction paper and keys.

i knew that i only had my sloth board left to complete so i decided to take my sweet ass time, knowing that i was in need of a good break (and also im just a procrastinator) so i cut my letters and grabbed my paper and stood at the desk for no less than an hour talking to everyone about things like the fact that i fell out of a suitcase when i was 2 and that tamper proof lids exist because of the chicago poison pill murders and the flagship l.l. bean store in maine. it was very productive.

so i finally slink back to my dorm at around 10pm, very confident that i would finish by midnight and could watch some netflix or something before i went to bed. if only i knew what was in store for me.

i enter my dorm building and walk to the elevators. and then. one of the RAs from the third floor was like "oh saph. [another RA in the building] is looking for you."

and me, of course, didnt bring my phone to the res life office so i didnt know this.

i go up to the second floor and see one of the RAs from the second floor and another from one of the other buildings working on a bulletin board. they say "oh saph. [the same RA in the building] is looking for you."

i run up to my dorm and discover that somehow we missed the bulletin board by the downstairs elevator. seriously there's too fucking many bulletin boards. and they were asking me to do it. because they wanted to put covid policies on it.

and i know i said this story was about axe body spray. and it is. we are getting there.

so panic sets in because its 10pm and i still have two whole bulletin boards to make now. one of which i have nothing planned for. so i threw some soup in the microwave (because i had forgotten that dinner existed) and opened my laptop.

thankfully, i could reuse some of the same stuff from my own covid policies board in my common room. i just had to print it. which meant, yep you guessed it, another trip back to the res life office!!

at this point i think i had taken a grand total of at least 7 trips to the res life office that day alone. its a good 5 minute walk. not terrible, but just annoying enough that you hate yourself a little more every time that you have to do it. and now its 10:30pm. i am starving. i have two boards to complete. it was crunch time.

i make it to the office and this time i had no time to sit around and debate how popular l.l. bean is. i had policies to print and letters to cut.

as im struggling with the printer (because those fucking things can smell fear), someone else in the office starts loudly discussing timothee chalamet.

and now, this is where you want to actually pay attention because this man would be the reason i ended up only getting 4.5 hours of sleep.

said man in question is quite the character. he's in my grade and im pretty sure he's a polisci major (and maybe creative writing? there's some kind of writing) and he plays lacrosse. i dont really know how to describe him other than the fact that the first interaction i ever had with him was two years ago at freshman orientation when he complained to me in the dining hall that there was no milk for his protein powder.

that interaction is in my top 10 favorite interactions ive had in college.

but the one we are about to unpack definitely takes all of the cake.

so here i am, struggling with the printer and my tiny knock off dongle. the other RA on my floor starts discussing timothee chalamet's outfits with the protein powder RA.

and so apparently the protein powder RA worked in some major fashion designer brand corporate something or other thing over the pandemic. he told me which one but i was so shot and only thinking in construction paper and glue and staples that i didnt process any of it. but it was a fancy one. the store that is.

and so here's what happened:

me: "timothee chalamet? isn't he like, 17?"

protein powder RA and the other RA on my floor: "nah he's like 25. ive checked."

yet another RA: "yeah i just googled it."

me, a wimbo: "oh im thinking of finn wolfhard. but i dont think he's 17 either."

listen before you slam me, remember it is like 11pm and i have to still do 2 bulletin boards and we have training at 9am the next morning.

so protein powder RA pulls up some photo of timothee chalamet and starts telling me about all the brands he's wearing and i literally said "i understand all of the words that you're saying separately."

and he said "exactly!! he's just so great that when you put it all together you can't understand it!! he's just too perfect!!"

and the i made a detrimental decision.

there is life before this decision and life after.

i said "well. bring your fashion designer knowledge into the lounge and help me decide what color to cut my letters."

and he said okay.

so after severely debating the different color purples that we had and listening to the finer points of the fashion industry, i noticed something important.

he smelled like axe body spray.

see i bet you thought i forgot the point of the story. i did not.

let it be known that we are juniors in college (that's 20-21 years old if you dont know). axe is very common in middle and high school boys locker rooms. i have vivid memories of avoiding that hallway so i wouldn't be choked.

so im trying not to inhale too deeply because the smell has permeated my mask as i cut my "covid safety" letters in the color this man has dubbed "light lilac" and half listening to him talk about the fashion industry.

but i finish quickly, somehow escape the smell of axe, and grab my laptop and print outs before tagging along with the same protein powder RA and the other lax player RA back to the dorms. its now 11:15 pm. i still have 2 bulletin boards to complete. my soup is sitting in my microwave in my dorm, almost forgotten about.

halfway back from the office i realize that i forgot my dongle. i say so out loud and protein power RA says that he will go back and look because he's just that guy who likes to help. i say okay fine. and i sprint to my dorm building, drop the print outs and letters downstairs for later, and start the sloth board.

several minutes later, my soup has been inhaled, my papers glued, a sloth cut out, and im sitting in a mess of construction paper and staples in the hallway when i get a text from protein powder RA that quite simply said:

"its not there. do you need help with your boards?"

and me, being me, because i am exhausted and in need of company, say "yeah sure."

by the time he finally shows up, he's changed his outfit.

as a side note, every time ive seen this man during the last 5 days of training, he's been wearing a different outfit. oh and he works for lulu lemon. forgot to mention that.

but alas, here he came, holding my papers and reeking of axe as he walked down the hall to me, who is failing to staple a sloth to my bulletin board.

so for the next two hours i did my boards and he sat and talked. he wasn't physically helping me, but he was helping me stay awake, cause this man is a ball of fucking energy, and that was very important.

i only remember about half of what he said but essentially he was talking about how he was trying to be a better person than the one that he was freshman year. which is admirable. but he does still reek of axe.

at around 1 am i finished my last board and went upstairs to clean up. he came with me and sat on the floor and continued to talk while i cleaned up my disaster of paper and staples and glue among other things. at this point i was so relieved that i had finished that i was actually able to engage in the conversation, which was surprisingly deep and interesting.

and then. its about 1:45 am. i am about to wash my dishes so i can shower and go to bed. because remember that i need to be at training at 9 am the next morning.

and he says something about trying to be a better person again. and me, in all my sleep deprived glory, says:

drum roll

"and yet you still wear axe body spray."

and all hell broke loose.

i would like to preface by saying that he freaked out in a very joking matter and was not actually mad at me. but he was definitely disappointed and in shock. the next hour pretty much consisted of:

"are you kidding me? this is prada something something cologne and all these celebrities wear it!! how dare- it could not POSSIBLY SMELL LIKE AXE!!! well i guess its a little dry and axe is kind of dry smelling...bUT I SPENT SO MUCH ON THIS BOTTLE and the lady sold me on the larger one and it was like 150 bucks and UGH i cannot smell like axe! you know i got four compliments on how i smelled today??! and you're telling me i smell like fucking- *sniffs shirt* no! there's no way!! well i mean... no i cannot. i cannot smell like designer axe. damnit saph! im gonna have to sell this whole bottle now cause i can't use it! BUT ITS PRADA!!"

for an hour.

but it was very entertaining.

eventually i dragged him to the common room cause i needed to do my dishes and sleep and he continued ranting about it there, going as far as to call his best friend (who was asleep) and another RA and ask them if he smelled like axe. i meanwhile was laughing my ass off and 12 kinds of tired but couldn't find it in myself to care.

eventually he decided he needed yet another opinion. so he went to find the other RA on my floor, which, if you remember, is the same one who was thirsting over timothee chalamet with him in the res life office all of those fateful hours before. but that RA was nowhere to be found. so he ran down to the common room below us and scared the shit out of three freshmen.

and he asked these freshmen if he smelled like axe.

the answer was yes.

after that he left because it was 2:30 in the morning, and all the while he was yelling about how he was going to come to training tomorrow with different shirts with all his different colognes on them and have me sniff them because he couldn't smell like designer axe.

and i did the only logical thing. went upstairs to my my dorm and made him a door deck that looked like a bottle of axe that had a post it on the front that said "designer."

and so. now you all know not to buy cologne because its expensive because there's a good chance it will just end up smelling like axe.

and i didn't get to smell his other colognes because i almost passed out in training and left to take a nap. but maybe that was a blessing in disguise.

we’ve been dating for a year and seven months and just graduated college :) and in a fun twist of events, prada no longer makes that cologne anymore.