#valiant's inbox

[valiantroeagleangel]

This might be out of the blue but do you have any headcanons of bad omens with tall women? Like how you would feel or how they would act towards you. All is see is about short women 😭 so I had to ask. It's ok if you don't 💕 love you 💕💕

As a tall woman, I loved that ask so I'll use myself for reference. I think I'm like 5'9 ? or maybe 5'10 I'm not so sure, I don't understand a thing about the American metric system.

Sorry it took me time to write that down love, hope you'll love it nonetheless <3

Noah

One thing I love about Noah is that even with my tall ass platforms I'll still be shorter than him and that is great. If you're tall and you want to feel PETITE for once you know, Noah's your guy. It's great to be tall and stuff but sometimes you just wish to feel small and weak in someone's arms and not feel like you're a strong opponent he could fight. And with Noah, I'm pretty sure you would feel small in his arms and I love that. And the debate of him liking tall or short women doesn't even exist since you're probably all shorter than him.

But Noah loves that you're tall. Have you guys seen that picture of him and the look on his face when a fan came to the meet and greet stuff and he was really taller than Noah? He looked like a kid in a candy store, so in my head, Noah loves tall girls (I'm not saying that because I am, what do you mean?). He likes the fact that you're at his size and not small like everything around him. Here me out, you could have a customized kitchen at your height and not struggle with everything being too low and that would be so great. Or like a table with high feet so you won't hit your knees under it every time you try to cross your legs. Just for weird things like that he would feel special with you and not in an excluded way.

But in reality I don't think he cares that much about your height anyway, you'll look good next to him whether you're short or tall. Just wish we saw more headcanons and fics of Noah with tall women and not just short people for size kink hm.

Jolly

MY FAVORITE PART. Jolly is a little bit shorter than Noah but he still is pretty tall. That being said I know that with heels I might be his height or like almost his size. So he is not your absolute tall guy, you won't necessarily always be petite to him. BUT, hear me out, there is something really manly about Jolly that makes me feel small anyway. It goes with his charisma and presence I think but GOD. I FEEL SO SMALL AND WEAK COMPARED TO HIM. Do you see what I'm talking about?

Jolly? God, it is just his attitude but it's working (and the fact that he still is pretty tall). Noah is tall and buff but he isn't manly the way that Jolly is and that makes a difference. Maybe I feel even smaller with Jolly than Noah because of that and I love that. Jolly is VIRILE and I'm not talking about the grrr alpha man awou awou *wolves* *wolves* type of virile. There is nothing toxic here, he just sweats testosterone and I'm a weak little damsel in distress for it.

Kidding, but you got it.

Jolly is masculine enough to make you feel like you can rely on him for real, so you feel little and feminine. Yeah dating Jolly as a tall woman is for once not feeling like you're abnormally tall in a room of people of average height.

That aside, I think that he doesn't care much about your height anyway. That dude is Swedish, average Swedish women are tall. So he won't be that "shocked" about your height, even maybe that the day you both met he was like "damn finally someone with a normal height (Swedish height reference)".

Jolly is a dom in everything in his life so in the end, he will manage it all. He doesn't think that you being tall is taking his masculinity away. He just doesn't fucking care and will still treat you like the princess you are.

Nicholas

Oh Nicholas my beloved- I have no fucking idea of how tall he actually is but he isn't that short. Probably like 180/183 cm? I would say. Jolly is 185 cm and Nicholas is shorter but not by a lot. Which I think is something between 1 and 2 inches.

Yeah, we are doing maths here now.

But it's just for reference, since Nicholas is that tall I'm taller than him with my shoes on. So we're not on the petite side this time. But I think that dating Nicholas while being tall is something special. I think he worships you in any kind of way he can.

He likes the fact that you're tall, he likes how long your legs actually are, god he could die for those legs you know. It's great, you're just so great for him and in the end, Nicholas is still pretty tall, at least taller than average height in my country sooo. He still has a presence next to you even if he is an introvert that only wishes to disappear in social situations. If he wants I'm sure he could be very "towering" by his attitude and take things in charge.

I like the trope of the tall shy guy you know. Because he is shy, he wants to be invisible but he is so tall and has this dom side of him that you can't miss him. And that is Nicholas ladies, he is an elephant in the room that has a manly side he's trying to hide. But he is ready to wear big-ass shoes to be taller just so you can feel really small next to him, even if he hates standing out this way. Which is ironic, considering what he does for a living.

Folio

Oh, Folio. Folio's my short king. I still don't know his height but he is the shorter of the band. He might be my height, maybe shorter but not by a lot? Folio gives puppy energy on that one. He saw you one day, standing in a crowd and he was just MESMERIZED you know. You were towering over a lot of people and he fell in love immediately.

You won't feel petite next to him, but that doesn't matter because he is obsessed with you. I categorize him as the type of short guys that have a thing for tall women. You want to wear heels. Fucking yes queen do it and be taller than him he LOVES it. He is not the type of guy to ask you to wear Converse when you're with him because he doesn't want you to be too tall or tower over him or whatever. He is not insecure about his masculinity even if he is a bit cliché on that. He likes fishing and motorcycle, he has a fucking eagle tatted on the chest and I picture him as the type to have a trad wife BUT he doesn't have that toxic side inside of him.

He might be short but he won't tell you that he can't date you because "sorry you're too tall I feel like I'm dating a man and I'm not GAY >:(." (yeah this is based on a true story.) I'm traumatized by the short guys but I think that Folio could heal me. He's not the type to feel unconfident about that and he will just cheer you in a way so that you feel great and thankful for being tall. Be tall, be fucking awesome and he will be glad to be your carpet if you even want to step on him.

i just love that picture so much.

Mama’s tag list: @circle-with-me @somewhere-diamond @malice-ov-mercy @smokeynaomi @darkhallcorner @loeytuan98  @sthnog  @cookiesupplier  @cncohshit  @lma1986  @skulliecadaver-blog @talialovesmiw @to-be-written @4rtificialfolio @arkiliastuff

[neurotonic]

splurging abt this bc…. idk i want to. as much as i like to play around with potential animosity between prism and solaris, they’re such similar people, and i think deep down the both of them have a strange sort of fondness for the other in the sense that they can see themselves in each other…

as tough as i like to think solaris can be on prism, i think most of that- whether she knows it or not- stems from prism’s compassion and vulnerability. she’s a lover at her core, and solaris can’t imagine being that kind of person without getting hurt, or scathed, or trampled by the world. seeing prism be so whimsical is… unnerving. it’s not safe for her, and she doesn’t understand it.

meanwhile, i think prism is the exact opposite with solaris. she’s seen what happens when she lets her rage consume her… it got her working with zoraxis, inevitably being betrayed, ruining what she spent her life working towards, sending her spiraling into her grief… she can only imagine how angry and tired solaris is. how much the world hurt her. she wants to coax her out of her shell… mellow her out so things don’t become worse than they have to be.

but. you know. it’s hard to wrap their minds around each other’s viewpoints… and it turns into this strange messy friendship that the other is always misconstruing as an attack on their carefully crafted character

foirst of all you're always welcome to splurge in my inbox no matter what. second of all i really . really really like this interpretation of their characters... I've definitely thought about how similar they are in terms of experiences before, it's just how they end up interpreting their experiences and their general outlook in life has them acting very differently from one another... and like you said, even the smallest nudge in the opposite direction their fates would have been closer to the other's. Is Foil the right term for them...??

Which is why I really like the idea of them meeting and trying to work with their differing viewpoints ... Gotta be honest I haven't done much of that recently. sniff...those engineers sure can be a mirror of themselves yayyayy!!

The similarities get to them, I think, because sometimes they don't understand why they still couldn't get along most of the time?? It's a strange experience yet. I feel like they could complement each other's flaws by filling in a new perspective. and I always love that contrast between dynamics. The more they hang around each other I feel like they could appreciate each other's company. Even though they're still steadfast with their viewpoints (another similarity between them, I think it's not easy to make them discard their core beliefs)

Well. Anyways. I think this is social enrichment for them. Not romantic not platonic but a secret third thing (we're two sides of the same coin and we both don't know how to feel about that)

[valiant-if]

hello!! can i ask “What is your general favourite thing about the character? What is your least favourite?” for all the ROs + CAIT? if all of them is too much then just Path and Hex would be great!

hi, anon!

Anton - My favorite and least favorite thing are the same! 😂 He's nice! I like that he's nice, of course. Genuinely nice characters are very comforting to write, but they can sometimes feel a little bland when compared to their mean and/or moody co-stars.

Switch - My favorite thing is her flavor of hidden soft side, which is less gentle and sentimental and more "I will defend to the death someone else's right to be healthy and cared-for." Least favorite thing is probably how long it took her to reach that conclusion (whereas she was happily just doing what she was told for years beforehand).

Zero - Favorite thing: that she's bubbly and fun and does her best to turn even not-great moments a little silly. Least favorite thing: she's a little too willing to see the best in people when she meets them. Not everyone deserves the kind of niceness that she gives them.

Path - The polar opposite of Anton, my favorite and least favorite things being the fact that he's such an asshole. It's really fun to step outside of what is socially acceptable in real life and let a character just be mean and rude on the page. On the other hand, he really is mean to other people without cause, and that's not cool.

Kiran - My favorite thing is how clear-headed Kiran is in completing their work—their REAL work—without anyone actually knowing what it is. 👀 My least favorite thing is the way he talks. I've purposefully made Kiran the kind of character that doesn't speak with contractions very often, and it's very annoying how often I have to go back and eliminate contractions when writing their dialogue.

Yulia - Favorite thing without a doubt the hubris she has as a scientist. She really thinks she's above making mistakes, and oh how wrong she is going to be. My least favorite thing is how clinical and heartless she can be when it comes to her work. It's great for a character, but I would probably hate her if I knew her in real life.

Hex - Favorite thing is that he's smarter and more moralistic than he lets on. Even A2 is not aware of his depths, and they've worked together a long time. Least favorite thing is genuinely how late into the story he makes his official appearance. 😂

A2 - In a weird way, the fact that she hates PDA is my favorite thing about her. I think the reason for that is that so often I see (no matter how common, just what I see) character archetypes similar to her (no matter the gender, but usually women) be unapologetically sexual and/or flirtatious, as if the only time they can set aside their stoic demeanor is for the sake of sexual expression, and I'm just tired of seeing characters like that. So here she is, that kind of stoic character, and she does not like PDA, even mild forms of it. My least favorite thing about her is the same as for Hex—that it takes so long to introduce her.

CAIT - My favorite thing about her is having to sit and really think about how a digital being would interpret certain situations. And I'm certain that I get it wrong all the time, but it's a good thought experiment and a fun exercise for my brain. My least favorite thing, at least right now, is that she only has the MC to interact with and the MC is keeping her hidden, so it can be hard to figure out how to organically use her in a scene in a way that is unknown to the other characters.

thanks for the ask! 🧡

[iriysse]

"Irisse," Findekano called out to his sister, slowly turning his attention from the fluffy rabbit sat in his lap to his little sister. He raised an eyebrow as he looked her over, taking in her riding dress and boots. "What are you doing?" (from my sideblog @findekano-the-valiant )

Inbox Answered---

---- Írissë immediately froze, no longer sneaking past quietly, but rather craning her neck backwards to see him sitting there. "Finno~ didn't see you there!" she said, moving to lean against the doorframe with a smile. "Well let's see, I was considering the for a ride. And then when I was done, I think I'll figure out where I'm at and judge from there. Who knows? Anything could happen."

She eyed the rabbit in his lap. "Where did he come from?"

[gomzdrawfr]

This has been stuck on my mind and you shall deal with it now. And hear me out on this. For the whole next game of modern warfare/call of duty game, Kortac and TF141 has to work together but are separated into groups and Ghost and Konig are stuck together.

And during some type of mission they have, Konig is on the field while Ghost is on the computer, just like in modern warfare 3 where Soap was out and Ghost was on the computer for half of it. And here’s the part that might make you cry.

Konig, while he is on the field, asks Ghost about Soap (maybe KorTac doesn’t know that Soap was killed and only found out when they got to the tf 141’s base) and for most of the game, it is Konig asking all types of questions of Soap to Ghost and Ghost is answering them but sometimes he has to stop and go quiet so that he doesn’t break down and cry in front of the colonel or that we get flashbacks of Soap, when he was alive, with Ghost and the others behind the scenes.

This is probably out of character for them but it is still kinda wholesome but also sad. I imagine it as Konig being some little kid, asking Ghost like he is his parents or grandparents about someone they lost and are trying to hold back tears from talking about it.

out of character is what i feel yeah but interesting thought

I like how Ghost still answer him despite everything and didn't just drop the news immediately

[ask-valiant-victory]

Mimipon @ Valiant: "Ah, a floofy floofyness." Mimipon excitedly announced, "You are super floofy! Bet you give great cuddles and don't even need to worry about sleeping on a rock because you are a pillow." She looked up at the Zoroark with childish joy, "Is it because you are made of clouds?!?"

"You are quite silly, I do not think I am made of clouds. That is the first time someone has ever called me 'floofy', usually I am called much harsher things. I think I like this 'floofy' word more." He gave an odd attempt at a snicker but it came out more as a scoff sound. "I am made of something much different."

"And she brought swift judgment down upon the mortals who dare challenged Arceus." "But I guess that's pretty close to a cloud!" Valiant gleefully smiled at the Mimikyu, "Birds fly in the sky with clouds, I think? I do not know any birds. I may not be a cloud but..."

"The champion, her name was Victory, but she is gone now. I suppose I was her in my past life, but I do not recall it." "Arceus said her remains were far too damaged to give her a proper rebirth." He thought for a moment before giving a vague shrug, "Maybe that is why I am so much different from my siblings, I wasn't made correctly."

→ Oh? Seem's Mimipon improved Valiant's mood! He'll be much more upbeat and cheerful now.

[nuruhuine]

*sneaks into a party where they all are and puts on the Macarena for dancing purposes*

Inbox Answered---

--- It takes a moment for the music to register ( they're all embroiled in the very serious topic of 'who has the most trouble with their brothers' ), and therefore they stare for a moment. Finrod smiles first, then cackles, putting down his wine as he immediately begins doing the dance. Fingon holds out for approximately a millisecond before he downs his wine, says "oh what the hell" and proceeds to join him. It's a hard contest of who does it better.

Maedhros just watches before he steps in, tells them to take a step back so he doesn't hurt them, and then proceeds to maneuver his ridiculously long limbs into the sexiest macarena ever seen. He's not even trying, he's just that good. How does he know the macarena? He doesn't want to know. It's up there with Baby Shark and Barbie Girl ( though he's pretty sure that last one was Celegorms fault ). Known and better to be forgotten to its origin.

[rouecentric]

Roue roue roue can i request something:D ??

Go ahead!!

[thedragonkween]

King Baldwin IV Headcanons! ♔🤍♕

A/N: So, here we are. I could not resist this mysterious and tormented king's charm. His silky voice makes me dream! These are some headcanons I've collected off the top of my head. The Reader is implied to be female and married to Baldwin IV. Please, do feel free to hit my inbox to ramble about our king because I'm literally dying of pining and yearning.

tags: female!reader x baldwin iv of jerusalem (from kingdom of heaven); reader is married to baldwin iv of jerusalem; fluff; slight angst towards the end

wc: 1150k

reccomended songs to listen to while reading: "Summertime Sadness" by Hildegard von Blingin; "Right Here" by Ashes Remain; "Blood, Sweat, Tears" by BTS (orchestral version)

"Many are the tales of the King Baldwin IV of Jerusalem and of his Queen. Despite the varying accounts of their deeds, each one of them agrees on one aspect: the King of Jerusalem loved his Queen dearly, and the world is richer for it".

Baldwin IV is mysterious, intense, valiant, noble and utterly devoted to you, his Queen. But what does this devotion look like?

Firstly, he would believe in you like no other and would always be ready to give you his best advice whenever the weight of your responsibility becomes too much. Foreign rulers would soon learn of your qualities - there would hardly be a piece of correspondence where the King of Jerusalem does not praise the intellect and insight of his dear wife. He would glance at you from time to time, while you both work at your desks sharing the burden of paperwork, silently thanking God for having sent him not only a beautiful, but reliable life companion as well.

He values your opinions greatly and has the utmost regard for your views on political, military and state matters. Disagreements happen, yet your overall values are aligned, which is why Baldwin understands your vision and where your point comes from. During the discussions regarding complex decisions, he would let you speak and explain, then he would offer his honest thoughts on the matter, should he see another, different way from yours. 

Playing chess is a favorite way of spending quality time together in your chambers, away from the chaos of the court. If you know how to play and are proficient at it, he would delight in the thrill of challenge, as he would finally have found a true equal. If you do not know how to play, he would teach you with patience, taking pride whenever you make an unexpected and astute move. He would be such a nerd while he explains the rules to you and would be delighted to see how your mind works when devising a plan.

"Congratulations, dove. You have a checkmate."

I can also see Baldwin taking you on long rides, if his health allows it. He would sweetly check the reins and saddle on your horse before mounting on his steed and leading you away to enjoy the cool early morning breeze, before the heat of Jerusalem becomes too sweltering. You would have a nice and secluded spot to enjoy and to pretend that you are a couple of young lovers without responsibilities and crowns weighing on your heads.

Your presence brings him safety and comfort, which is what would convince him to remove his mask when he is alone with you and the physicians. He would especially love to rest his head on your lap as you gently caress his curls while the physicians tend to his skin. It is a sacred moment. He does not know how he went so long without your presence during this delicate time. Speaking softly to each other, you would distract him from the pain with talk of your hometown, fairy tales from your culture, or even simply reflecting on a happening of that day. On these occasions, you learn how to best take care of him, watching the physician tend to his arm while you tend to the other, delicately dabbing the cloth over his wounded skin. Baldwin feels so protected and safe in your presence. He thinks you are God’s greatest gift to him.

Now, jealousy. Baldwin knows he boasts the honor of having an exquisite flower such as yourself to call his own. As do powerful men and courtiers from distant lands. Many covet your loveliness as one would a precious gem. Should one of these foolish people try to take you from him or even stare at you for too long to be considered proper, they would be met with a pure force to be reckoned with. Should a knight’s eye linger on you for too long, he would be quick to put him in place in his signature glacial, elegant way. Before long, everyone learns not to disrespect the Queen consort of Jerusalem.

“Perhaps you would have understood my point, had you not been so insolently ogling my wife”. He takes out his whip. “On your knees. You will pay for insulting the Queen”.

He would protect you with his life. He swore to protect Jerusalem and, as its Queen, that includes first of all you. Should a courtier doubt your devotion and mistake it for thirst for power, or should he learn of an orchestrated attempt on your life, he would waste no time in employing his best forces in your service to defend you.

His enemies and templars alike fear him, yet with you he is as gentle as the morning breeze that gently caresses Jerusalem. This powerful king who makes armies tremble and kingdoms shake is the same person who holds and kisses your hand (when in public, bringing your fingers to the lips of his mask), who silently admires your loveliness from afar and sighs to himself, who longs for your warmth after a tiring day. 

He would write you letters. Lots of them. And not always when he is away. Maybe he just liked the way the sun reflected in your eyes that morning. Or maybe when you helped a servant, he was moved by your kindness. Your every action inspires him, so much so that he has to let out his thoughts on paper. You have a pretty wooden box brimming with delicate papers penned by Baldwin in your honor. He is not only the King of Jerusalem, but also the king of pining, of yearning. Even when he has you near, he yearns for you.

I love to imagine him letting you accompany him to battle. He would love it too, in theory. You make him so strong, the both of you would be quite the sight, meeting your enemies head on, as one, donning your best armors. Yet, at the same time I cannot imagine him resting easy knowing that a loose arrow, a desperate soldier seeking glory for killing the Queen of Jerusalem, or fatigue and sickness could take you from him. It pains his heart to be parted from you, yet he cannot risk your safety. Instead, Baldwin would trust you with ruling the kingdom. He has absolute faith in your intelligence, willpower and cleverness, especially after all he has taught you about running the realm. He longs for you every second he’s away from Jerusalem, yet his heart is at peace knowing his kingdom is in the most capable hands.

When he feels that his time on this Earth is nearing his end, he calls for his most trusted advisors, including Balian and Tiberias. He would ask them, almost begging, to protect you always, at all costs, when he is no longer there to do so. Balian and Tiberias would exchange a quick glance to each other, vowing to respect their King’s wish until the very end.

“Protect her. Please.” “Always, my Lord”.

Poems, songs and stories would be written in honor of your love even centuries after your passing. Many tales would speak of Baldwin IV of Jerusalem and his Queen. Different pieces of art, such as paintings and ballads, would inspire people from all over the world to find a love as devoted and unshakable as yours. Until the very end.

All in all, to love Baldwin means knowing your time together is limited. As is the time of all creatures on Earth. He would beg you to go on after his passing, to live for him. He shall wait for you and protect you from above. Until the very end.

[hangmanssunnies]

Heat To Boil

Summary: After a failed Tinder date, you go to hang out with your friend Jake "Hangman" Seresin. When you get to his house, you unexpectedly find him with a baby, and it is a sight that rewires something in your head. Jake needs a baby of his own. Right now — like yesterday, actually. And that is a task you would be more than willing to help with; now, you just need to find the courage to bring it up.

Pairings: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Word count: 9k

AO3 Link

Warnings: 18+ Only, Friends to lovers, baby fever, smut, P in V, Oral, Hangman with a baby (deserves its own warning)

Author's note: The attorneys at work keep bringing their babies in and letting me hold them, and @top-hhun has done absolutely nothing to discourage the subsequent baby fever I've been dealing with. Anyways, that's where this fic came from. I hope you enjoy this. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are gold to me. I love reading through them.

You had become friends with Jake unexpectedly some years ago, hitting it off at your mutual friend's wedding. Part of you had, of course, hoped the attractive blonde aviator would be interested in you, maybe in a romantic sense, but it never came to fruition. He shipped out the week after the wedding, but the easy rapport you carried with him started with sharing jokes about how trashed other people got at the reception, and eventually developing into a true and close friendship. 

It was for the best because the more you got to know Jake, it became clear to you that he didn't want the same things that you did. He was focused on his career and didn't have time for a partner. When he did talk about settling down, it was never in an authentic way, more joking that he was waiting to swoop in if Coyote's marriage fell apart or that his Mama would set him up with a nice southern belle who wanted to give her twelve grandkids. Jake would claim he was too busy for a relationship, away from home too much to be steady. However, none of that seemed to stop him from finding time for you, which is probably why you hadn't been able to completely repress your feelings for him despite some valiant efforts. 

Just today, after a failed lunch date with someone from Tinder, you texted Jake disheartened. He hadn't hesitated first to ask if you were okay and then invited you over for dinner to tell him all about it. He had even promised to cook you whatever you wanted. A special treat guaranteed to make you feel better, considering Jake's superb culinary skills. 

You walk into Jake's house without knocking or ringing the bell, knowing he left the door unlocked in anticipation of your arrival. After securing the front door's lock into place, you toe off your shoes, making sure to set them neatly in line with the others there. Jake's home is clean and tidy, just like it always is; the organization of the entry is no exception. You know from the smells and sounds wafting towards you that he must still be cooking, which is odd because he's almost always done by the time you show up. 

Venturing further into the house you see him, standing in the kitchen, with a baby strapped to his chest. It's an unexpected sight, and you're frozen by it. Jake's in a casual white teeshirt, jeans, and a dark navy blue sling with a camo pattern wrapped tightly around him, securing a tiny infant in place against his broad chest. His hair is fluffy like it often is on his days off, and the golden strands fall across his forehead. Seeing it like this always creates an instinctual desire to run your fingers through it. However, you can hardly even process that thought because you're so distracted by the bundle on his chest. Music is playing on his record player, and he is humming along. 

Jake suddenly stops the humming, and the prep he is doing, looking down at the baby. After a pause, a smile pulls at the edges of his lips, his eyes crinkle before he drops a kiss on the infant's head. And it's like everything is right. Jake with a baby seems so natural. The fact that he exists any other way than with a baby in his arms every day feels wrong. Your heart starts beating harder in your chest, and a thought pops into your head, instantly taking deep root: Jake needs a baby of his own. Right now — like yesterday, actually. 

You don't know what sound you must have made, but Jake looks up and finally notices you standing in the hallway. He doesn't appear at all startled as a wide grin spreads across his face as he greets you, "Howdy there, Doll!"  

"You have a baby," you say stupidly in an entirely delayed response. 

"Yeah, this little guy is Jackson. Coyote and the Mrs wanted a date day, so I offered to watch the baby for them. They were supposed to be here two hours ago to pick him up, but I'm sure they just got caught up." Jake laughs and presses another kiss to Jackson's head. Before continuing on, "I hope you don't mind."

"No, I don't mind," you manage to breathe out, unable to tear your eyes off Jake or even pretend you're not staring. He quirks an eyebrow at you but otherwise doesn't comment. After he gestures for you to join him, he returns to the cutting board in front of him. You are transfixed; when you sit down at the bar in the kitchen, it occurs to you that you should probably say something and not just stare like an idiot. "Do you want me to take him?"

"I think he is just fine here," Jake says, examining the sleeping baby strapped to his chest again. Jackson has hardly moved since you showed up, clearly passed out, not disturbed by the music or any of the kitchen sounds. 

"At least let me help finish cooking then?" You request. 

"No, Ma'am. Bubba and I have this dinner taken care of. I did pick up that wine you like from the store. Maybe you can open it up for us?" 

Entering the kitchen, you pull out two wine glasses from a cabinet. Opening the fridge you see your preferred wine stocked, as well as a few of your other favorite drinks stored there. Warmth blooms in your chest that Jake picked up things for you when he was at the store last. It was touching that he would take care to buy something he would never touch but getting it anyway just to have beverages you prefer on hand. After pouring the wine, you set one glass next to Jake's cutting board, making sure it's in easy reach for him. 

"Thank you," he says appreciatively. You sigh and lean against him, pressing your face into the bicep of his arm, careful not to disturb Jackson or the sling as you do. Closing your eyes, you breathe him in, looking for the subtle cedar scent of his cologne to soothe you. However, only a hint of it tickles your nose, the cedar not as strong as it usually is. Today, Jake smells more like clean laundry and his natural musk than anything else. You are surprised to find it still does the trick in helping settle your nerves, though. Jake hums but doesn't protest your closeness, instead asking, "Long day?" 

You don't answer with words, just humming noncommittally against his arm. You leave your face pressed there for a moment longer. "Not enough wine to talk about it yet," you eventually say into his arm before pulling away. Settling on the other side of the counter again, you take a long drink of the wine you poured. Deciding to admire Jake again, you ask, "How was your day?"

"It was pretty good. Javy dropped Jackson off this morning. We had tummy time, went on a walk, and to the grocery store to get things for dinner. Then we got a little cranky, so we rocked in the lazy boy for a while." You took a moment to picture Jake doing these activities and can't decide which is most swoon worthy. Jake is always swoon worthy, of course, but knowing that he was caring for a baby while doing it feels like an extra kick to the stomach or maybe ovaries. 

"And?" You ask him, taking another drink of your wine and pillowing your face on your palm. 

"And what?" Jake asks. 

"What else did you and Jackson do today? I want to hear every detail." 

Jake gives into your request easily. Starting his description of the day over, he tells you how even though he has babysat before, the Machados were still anxious to leave Jackson alone here when they dropped him off that morning. Jake told you about tummy time, which toys they liked and which were uninteresting. How long their walk was, and what they saw. He told you about the old woman who fawned over them in the store and how they helped her with getting her groceries to the car. It was endearing that Jake used the first person plural 'we' as if he and Jackson were a team with equal agency in their day's activities. It was especially cute when Jake told you about the tantrum they had thrown earlier in the afternoon as if he had been crying right along with his godson. 

Just as dinner was finished and you were setting the table, Jackson woke up and started to get fussy. Jake cooed to the baby affectionately, leaving to the guest room, where Javy had stuffed almost a car full of supplies for Jake to watch Jackson. Some of the just-in-case supplies included toys and clothes Jackson wouldn't even be able to use until he was at least a year old.  

When Jake comes back, both he and Jackson are wearing different clothes. Jake is in a soft green shirt and sweats, while Jackson is now wearing a giraffe onesie. He has the baby propped on his hip and doesn't offer you any explanation aside from that they had an accident. Then he sees that you have plated and set everything for dinner at the dining room table, and he offers a soft thank you. 

You watch as he balances Jackson on his hip and starts following the written out directions for making a bottle that's taped to his fridge. Jake isn't someone who struggles, and you know that this is something that he is fully capable of doing, but you also can't help but think that it would be easier for him if he had two free hands. So, you gently pull Jackson from his arms and into your own instead. 

The baby blinks up at you, his eyes still soft and sleepy. He babbles a bit of nonsense but otherwise makes no protest at you. Jackson has the same brown eyes and skin tone as his father. Even with his chubby cheeks, you can tell that the little boy is going to be Coyote's mini-me. The similarities in their appearance are so close it's like the universe had just hit copy and paste. 

He is so cute you can't stop the grin that stretches across your lips when Jackson snuggles into you. One of his hands starts grabbing at your shirt's fabric while he absently gnaws at his other one. The little boy completely steals your attention as you walk around the living room and dining room with him. Asking him how he feels about his day with his Uncle Jake, pausing for his babbling like they were real answers. Jake comes up behind you several minutes later, setting a steady hand on the small of your back.

 "Here, let me take him," Jake mutters practically in your ear while reaching for Jackson. 

"No," you protest, turning away from Jake's reach. "You've had him all day. I've only gotten to hold him for a few minutes." 

"Now, darling," Jake drawls. 

"Don't darling me."

"Doll," He says 

"Don't Doll me either." You snap, though the aggression of it is completely manufactured. 

"Fine, fine," Jake says, holding his hands up. "You can have him for a few more minutes, but then it's my turn again."  

"How is that fair?" 

"It's fair because he is my godson." 

You pout at Jake, and he pouts back." I can't believe you're going to be a baby hog like this. Don't you know sharing is caring?" 

"Jackson isn't a rental car, sweetheart. Can't just hand him out to anybody."

"So what? You don't trust me with him?" 

"No," Jake says, suddenly dropping all of his dry, teasing tone. "Of course, I trust you with him. Of course, I trust you."

Jake steps closer when he says this, crowding a bit into your personal space. His sea glass green eyes hold you in place, and you don't think you imagine that they flick downwards, that he has his sights set on your lips, that Jake could be considering kissing you. However, a breath later, he is swooping Jackson out of your arms and into his own, quickly back peddling. 

"You can have the baby back after I feed him, okay? I don't want to risk him throwing up on that pretty blouse you've got on." 

"Kidnaper! Baby Snatcher!" You half gasp, half yell, and start to chase after Jake as he runs away, holding Jackson close and carefully but still managing to evade you.  

You're both laughing, and Jackson has started joyfully screeching as well when the doorbell rings, startling all three of you. Jake hands Jackson to you wordlessly before going to check who's at the door. It only takes a minute for him to come back with Coyote in tow. Who immediately rushes to sweep his baby from your arms and press kisses all over his cherub face. 

After Javy examined his son to ensure nothing was out of sorts, he handed Jackson back to you to hold while he and Jake packed up all of his stuff and moved the car seat. This was only after he made a sly comment about how good you looked with a baby in your arms, though. 

When you are alone with Jackson again, you take a moment to admire yourself in the mirror hanging on the wall. It wasn't such a hard thing for you to imagine holding a baby, and it looking normal, like something right, especially when you start to picture one with Jake's features or one that would take more after you, possibly even some sweet mix. The feeling of casual want that started from seeing Jake when you first arrived suddenly twists into an unexpected ache and intense need. 

You expect it to let up, but it doesn't. Rather, the feeling smolders in you, burning hotter and hotter until it feels slightly consuming. Seeing Jake hug and kiss Jackson goodbye, promising they would spend another day together soon, nearly does you in. Heating your feelings from a low simmer to a roaring boil. 

When you and Jake finally sit down to actually have dinner, it gets a little hotter with every sip of wine you take. Every time that Jake smiles and his eyes crinkle around the edges, the way he asks about your failed date with the perfect mix of sympathy and care, even the way he reheated dinner, all adds to the fire. As Jake is starting to put away the leftovers from dinner, refusing to let you help, you can't keep it in anymore, and you boil over. 

"Jackson was so precious," you say, casually swirling the bit of drink you have left around in the glass.  

"Little mans is so fun. I love him. It's always a treat to babysit," 

"You were really great with him today." 

"Aw, thanks Doll. Now, what do you want to do with the rest of the night? Play a game, watch a movie? We can do anything you want."

"Anything I want?"

"Yes, ma'am," Jake says easily as he pops the lids of his pyrex container into place.  

"I want a baby." You say in a quick breath. You nearly slap your hand over your mouth in horror that had just jumped out of your mouth. You really haven't had enough wine to be this bold, but then again, maybe you were a little intoxicated on having seen Jake be so domestic. 

"What?" he asks with a laugh, probably thinking he misheard you. You grip the edge of the cool countertop trying to steady your nerves and prevent your hands from shaking. 

"Jake, I want a baby," you tell him more slowly, making sure each word comes out clearly. 

"No, you don't," he laughs, shaking his head. He starts tossing dirty dishes into the sudsy water of the sink and stacking up the food containers to put in the fridge. Jake turns away from you before saying, "I thought you've said you didn't want kids."

"It's complicated," you explain softly. "Are people not allowed to change their minds about things anymore?" 

"Oh, so are you debating or like —"

"I don't really know how to say this more clearly. I want to have a baby with you, Jake." 

He freezes. You see his shoulders tense, and he stares into the fridge for a long moment, slowly finishing storing the leftovers. When he closes the fridge, he still doesn't look at you immediately. 

"You want me to be the father of a child you have? You want to have my baby?" Jake asks you incredulously. You gulp, now feeling entirely too vulnerable to speak, so you just nod in agreement instead. Jake's eyes are piercing, and his body language is tense as he stands in front of the sink again. He heaves a heavy sigh, his lips flattening into a tight line. Then he scrubs his hands over his face before narrowing his eyes at you, "This is not a very funny joke." 

"It's not a joke, Jake. I want a baby, and I know you would be a good father." When Jake's demeanor still doesn't change, you continue on hurriedly. "I think we could do the whole platonic coparent thing easily enough. We get along so well, and we're already such good friends." 

There is a long pause where he does not say anything, turning on the sink, waiting for the water to heat, and sudsing up a scrub daddy sponge. Only once this task is started does he answer you in a very stoic, perfectly level tone, "No, I don't think I can do that. I can't just sleep with you."

"Oh, well. I see. Forget that I asked, please." You mutter, embarrassed but trying to not let the sting of rejection affect your tone. You knew that this could backfire, but you didn't think it would feel this bad. Feel like the pit of your stomach falling so low you are almost nauseous. 

"I'm sorry, Dolly." 

"It's okay, Jake, really. It's just the wine getting to me."

"Are you going to ask someone else?" 

"What?" 

"Are you going to ask someone else to give you a baby?" Jake asks in a gruff tone. 

You wouldn't actually, you wouldn't want one without Jake. In fact, this urge to have a child came from seeing him. However, you didn't know how else to play off your out-of-pocket request than to commit to the bit. Nonchalantly, you say, "Maybe." 

"I could help you find someone," he offers. 

"Please, Jake. It's okay you said no. You don't have to try and fix my situation."

He practically ignores you, asking, "What about Rooster?"

"I'm sure that I would have fun with the process," you say. Jake, who has focused himself with dedication on the dishes, looks up at you sharply. He quickly looks away again as you continue, "I'd be worried about having a baby that's born with a full mustache, though. So, no, thank you." 

"I'm sure Fritz would be happy to help you out." 

"No —"

"Harvard—" 

"No Hangman. Stop," You say much harder with emphasis, cutting him off and leaving no room for argument. 

"I tell you no for one thing, and suddenly I'm Hangman to you?"

"No, you're Hangman when you disregard the people around you, no matter what they say. You're Hangman when you decide something's a mission objective, and you refuse to let it go. This isn't your problem to fix or one to pawn off on one of your friends." 

"You made it my problem when you just asked me to give you a baby," Jake says, frustrated. Roughly scrubbing the dishes, rinsing, and setting them in the drying rack. 

"Well, the moment you said no, it's not your problem anymore. I'm absolving you of responsibility. It's my problem, and I will find someone for myself to put up with me, at least for a night." You joke, trying to lighten the mood again, not wanting to ruin the whole night from this mishap. Jake doesn't react more than his face darkening significantly, a deep frown pulling at his lips as he rinses the last dish and closes the dishwasher. 

"Put up with you?" He asks, his eyebrows knitting together. Jake reaches for a dish towel to dry off his hands, and you're momentarily distracted by the thick fingers and web of veins tracing up his arm. It's a better sight than meeting Jake's intense eyes, those eyes that can stare you down and leave no room for you to hide. 

"I mean, I know I'm a lot, but I think even I can get someone to fuck me once or twice. If I want and am very lucky, I'll only need one night. There are also other options, of course, like sperm banks and adoption. Let's just let it go. Okay?" When you don't get an immediate response, you glance at Jake once more. He is staring at you, but it's not a look you like. He's looking at you like you are a problem to be fixed, a puzzle to solve, an item to take off his to-do list. So you force a chuckle out and smile.  

"I don't think I want to. Actually, I can't let this conversation go." 

"We have to," you insist. 

"Why?"

"Because Jakers, it doesn't have anywhere else to go. I expressed a stupid desire without thinking. It was awkward, and that's okay. It doesn't have to stay that way, though. Now we laugh and forget it. There is no other option." 

"A lot. Put up with. Stupid desires," Jake scoffs the words as he rounds the kitchen island. He spins the bar stool chair you're sitting on by the back, turning you to face him. Then he sets his hands on the marble countertop on either side of you, effectively boxing you in. Even sitting on the tall bar stool, you have to tilt your head a bit to look up at him. When your eyes meet again, the green isn't as soft or kind as you're expecting. "I don't like how you're talking about yourself right now." 

"I'm just being honest. I'm taxing to deal with; people get tired of me. My past relationships have certainly taught me that I'm only desirable under the right conditions. And I am stupid. I just ruined our whole night because I couldn't keep my mouth shut. What kind of normal person asks one of their best friends to fuck a baby into them unprompted?"

"Oh wow, I'm not even sure where to start with all that." Jake breathes. You can't take seeing his furrowed brow and disappointed frown. So instead, you examine his right arm that's stretched by you, mapping out the moles and freckles there. "You've developed a warped sense of the truth, Doll."  

It's your turn to scoff and roll your eyes. When you do, the arm you've been studying shifts, and Jake cups your cheek. Gently, he urges your face to turn back towards his, and a calloused thumb sweeps across your cheekbone. "Listen to me good now. The things you want and desire they ain't stupid, and neither are you. You're not too much. You're just enough."

"Thank you, Jake." You whisper. And while his words are kind, you don't really believe them.  

"Don't say thank you."

"What else am I supposed to say?"

"Say you believe me and mean it," Jake urges you. 

"I don't want to lie to you. That's not who we are, that's not our friendship," You say. Jake's hand drops from your cheek, and he steps back quickly as if he's been burned. After you had been so surrounded by him, you nearly reach out to urge him close again. Running a hand through his hair, you can tell he's resisting the urge to pace. 

"Is that our friendship, one built on honesty?" 

"I thought so." 

"Then I've failed you, and I've failed us because it's not." 

"Jake, what are you talking about?" You ask him, confused. He shakes his head at you and doesn't respond, instead backing away further until he is abandoning you in the kitchen. Swiftly, you stand to follow him, "Where are you going?" 

"I'm leaving." 

"And going where? This is your house," you remind him. You've caught up to him in the doorway of his bedroom, where he's grabbing a hat and his wallet. "I'm sorry I ruined tonight, and I'll leave. You have to be honest with me before I do, though. I have to know we're going to be okay tomorrow." 

"I can't," Jake says tersely, not meeting your eyes and attempting to sidestep you in the doorway. 

"I was wrongly under the impression there wasn't anything you couldn't do, Hangman. But I guess we are finding a lot of things you just can't do tonight, aren't we?" You aren't expecting the little lash out of a taunt to get you anywhere. Jake is normally always calm, cool, and collected, acting with decisive precision. However, nearly as soon as you've finished speaking, Jake's hands are on your arms, and he backs you up until you gently hit the wall of the hallway across from his door. 

"You're asking for more self-restraint than I have, Doll." He warns roughly. The sudden movement doesn't make you back down like he was probably expecting. Instead, the rush makes you feel emboldened. 

"I don't care. I can accept you don't want a baby with me, that you don't want to fuck me. I can accept that you want to force me to talk, but I can't accept you making me question our friendship." 

"Oh god. You really don't understand. My honesty is not going to make this better," he warns. 

"Yes, I do. Whatever it is, please tell me. I can think of many things you could be referring to, like that I'm not attractive to you. How I would make a terrible mother. Maybe I'm not a good friend. Or you don't actually like spending time with me. Whatever it is, you have to tell me. I've never thought you would lie to me. So, I need to know, or it's going to drive me crazy." 

"There you are, all twisted up again," Jake sighs. 

"And whose fault is that?" You snap back. Jake still has you pressed against the wall, so you set your hands on his broad chest with the intention of pushing him away. However, he doesn't budge; in fact, he does the opposite, coming even closer so he is flush against you. You refuse to tilt your chin to look up at him as he looms, rather only lifting your eyes in a cold stare. "I shouldn't be surprised that you're going to leave me hanging to dry, but you could at least —"

You don't get to finish the thought because a hand has snaked to hold the side of your neck, thumb tucking under your chin, turning your face upwards to Jake's waiting lips. The first brush of his lips on yours doesn't line up quite right, but that doesn't stop your breath from catching. Shifting to get a better angle, Jake applies two more feather light kisses. Your hands, which are still resting on his chest, creep up, and you loop them around his shoulders, using the leverage to lift higher on your toes and get closer to him. 

This prompts him to deepen his next kiss, lips moving harder against yours. When you open your mouth wider in invitation, Jake's tongue traces along your bottom lip but doesn't dive in. You whine when Jake pulls away to take a breath. 

"Forgive me, Doll, I should've asked first." 

"Asked what?" You wonder, not moving your eyes away from his lips and strategizing how to get them back on yours. You think if you could just get a little higher, you would be able to kiss him without Jake needing to bend down so much. 

"May I kiss you?" He asks. 

"Yes, please." You answer immediately. You tug your hold on his shoulders, hoping it will urge him to get right back to it. Jake doesn't, though. His hand shifts from your neck to cup your cheek again, his other leaving the wall to settle on your waist. 

"Can I touch you?"

"Yes, Jake." His hand traces up your side from your waist and back down again in what is a soothing motion. It's too soft and delicate for what you want right now, though, so you tug on his neck again, pressing your chest into his. He gives in this time, molding his lips to yours once more. 

When his tongue meets yours, a low rumble emulates from Jake's chest, and the sound sends a new wave of arousal coursing through you. Reaching up, you push off Jake's hat, not caring where it falls, only that it's no longer in your way. When you thread your fingers into his hair, it's smooth and silky, providing no resistance when you tug it. 

"Tell me what you want, Doll," Jake says when your lips part again. 

"You. I want you," you whimper, tugging his hair again. A wide grin breaks across Jake's face, and his eyes crinkle around the edges. He tucks his face into your neck, and you can still feel him smiling. 

"What else do you want?" He questions. When his lips brush a spot that makes you stretch your neck to give him easier access, he nips it lightly. You stumble, coming up with a response, just sighing his name as he finds another spot to bite. "Come on now, you said it so pretty earlier. Tell me again."

Once his request processes through your lust filled brain, you push on Jake's shoulders once more. This time, he doesn't resist, backing away from you and creating some space between your heated bodies. Sagging against the wall, you try to catch your breath while examining Jake. His hair is disheveled now, some of it falling across his forehead. 

"You said no, you don't want that with me. You don't want this with me," You answer, finally dropping your gaze to examine the grain of the hardwood floor near your feet. Confusion at this sudden turn in attitude from him settles over you as your head clears. One of Jake's hands enters your field of vision, turned upwards in an offering. "Come sit, we need to set some things straight." 

Taking Jake's hand, he curls his fingers with yours and gently tugs you back through the doorway of his room. With his direction, you perch on the edge of his four poster bed. Jake presses a kiss to the back of your hand and lets it go to settle on the accent chair that's in the corner. 

"We'll be honest, right?" You say hesitantly, already missing the feeling of Jake's hand in yours. 

"Yes. I'll be honest." Jake answers reassuringly before continuing, "From the beginning, I never wanted to be friends with you. 

"You didn't?" 

"Nope," he says, popping the p. "I never wanted to be friends, and then once we were friends, I was stuck. You didn't seem to want the same things as I did, and I'm not the kind of man to complain about the friend zone."

"I haven't friend you zoned you," you say, scandalized at the suggestion. 

"Just earlier tonight, you asked me to have a baby with you, platonically," Jake deadpans. 

"Because I can't conceptualize you wanting me any other way." 

"I want you. I've always wanted you, but not platonically, baby." 

Baby. Jake was a casual sweet name user, there was doll, sweetheart, honey, darling, those all were commonplace, but baby was new. Hearing it makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. He called you baby, and he has wanted you. You could have had him from the start if your fears and insecurities hadn't held you back. 

"I'm sorry," you whisper. 

"I don't want you to be sorry. I want you to need me, to love me," Jake explains with more hesitation than you've ever heard from him as if he is tip-toeing through this conversation. Worrying your fingers together, you have to take a calming breath to settle your own hesitation before answering him, "Well, that's easy because I do."  

A gleeful grin stretches across his face, and it's so bright you feel a matching one appear. He rubs a hand over his face, hiding it from view for a moment, and when you see his face again, he is still smiling. He looks as if he is trying to bite it back but can't quite manage. 

"Well, alright, a few more things we have to iron out then. I love spending time with you. You've never not been desirable to me." You can't help a disbelieving laugh when Jake says that, and the look he gives you is disapproving. "I mean that. I was thinking about it even the time I came over to bring you soup when you had the flu. Wanted to bundle you up and crawl into bed with you." 

"Oh, come on, that can't be true. I was so gross." 

"It is. I promised I would be honest, and I'm not going to be breaking any of the promises I make to you. Can you believe that?" 

You study his face, tracing over his nose, and jaw. He still has the hint of a grin that hasn't slid off his features yet, and he looks so very earnest. You can't imagine that Jake would be in the business of lying to you, and the openness he is offering makes it feel like you can believe him. That you can keep trusting him just like you always have. "I can believe that."

"Great. So, baby —" 

"Yes?" You say entirely too breathily before he can even finish the sentence. It was really a surprise how much hearing him say that already turned your brain to some form of liquid. 

"I want to sleep with you," Jake says plainly. 

"Then why are you all the way over there?" 

"I didn't want you to feel any sort of pressure while we were talking, and wasn't confident I could keep my hands to myself." 

Standing up from his bed, you walk steadily over to the chair Jake is sitting in. Crawling into his lap more confidently than you truly feel, his hands automatically slip around your waist, steading you against him. Holding eye contact with him, you say, "I don't want you to keep your hands to yourself." 

"Fuck, you're going to kill me," he sighs, tightening his hold on you. You go to kiss him again, but when you do, he blurts out, "I don't have any STDs or STIs." His cheeks stain a little pink, and he looks as surprised by the declaration as you are. 

"That's good to know. I'm clean too," you inform him. 

"Good to know. I just thought it was important to put it out there. Got to do safety checks first and everything. I don't want us to have any questions or be unsure about anything, and it's important to consider all the factors involved with —" Jake's rambling comes to a halt when you dip your face into his neck, kissing at the underside of his jaw softly. 

"Jake," you say, linking your arms around his neck and playing with the short hair there. "Will you give me a baby?" 

"Fuck, Doll. I promise to give you anything you want. The ring, the house, the baby. It's yours." 

You don't waste any time kissing him. When your lips meet, all the hesitancy and nervousness that Jake had while you were talking melts away. His mouth confidently teases yours open for his tongue to quickly follow. Your hands thread into Jake's hair again as his start to roam your back, sides, and arms. When you wiggle closer on his lap, he groans and grabbing a handful of your ass, lifting you up. Jake stands easily and walks you back to the bed. 

He doesn't drop you on the bed like you're expecting. Instead, he sets you down gently, one of his hands cradling the back of your head as he does. Laying on your back with Jake standing over you reminds you just how large and broad he is. 

With surprisingly little fanfare, he pulls off his shirt and tosses it to the side. Jake shirtless is not a new sight; in fact, it's a tantalizing one you've seen too often. He has every right to be proud of his body, you know how much time he dedicates at the gym. So it shouldn't be a surprise that, never one to be self conscious, Jake hardly could be found wearing a shirt if the situation didn't require it. However, you realize this is the first time that you don't just have to look but can also touch. 

Wanting to get the nervousness of undressing out of the way, you sit up, quickly discarding your shirt and tossing it aside. Before you can shimmy out of your bottoms, Jake's large hands are on your wrists, stopping you. 

"You're doing my job," he chastises huskily. Jake is slow and meticulous in removing your clothes, running his hands over all the skin that's exposed to him. When he pulls off your bra, leaving you only in your panties, he just sits back and stares for a moment. Such intense scrutiny from his gaze has you covering your chest, crossing your legs, and looking away. 

"I wasn't planning on sleeping with anyone tonight," you mutter, knowing that you don't have the sexiest underwear on and perhaps were not as physically prepared for this intimacy as you would like. 

"Good," he says lowly. "No one else is going to get to see you like this anymore." Grabbing an ankle in each big hand, he spreads you out for him. He slides off your panties so you're completely bare, and takes up his staring once more. "Ain't you fucking gorgeous?" Jake mutters and you realize he ain't talking about you necessarily; he's talking to your pussy. Whining his name gets Jake to shove off his sweatpants, leaving him in a pair of dark grey boxer briefs as he crawls over your body. 

As he kisses you again, your hands greedily explore his exposed skin. His chest hair proving to be much softer than you had imagined it, and his shoulders are taut as he holds himself up. While Jake's lips move with yours, you use a leg to encourage him to ease more of his weight into you, seeking friction. Kissing down your neck he lavishes attention to your breasts, licking and sucking his way across your skin. 

"You know, I was too busy to make dessert," he says when he reaches your core. One of his hands teasingly traces all around the skin. Placing a kiss on your inner thigh, he asks, "Do you mind filling in?" 

"Jake, you don't need to." You say, trying not to squirm when his fingers dip between your lips. 

"I want to. Do you not want me to?" 

"I know it's not everyone's thing," you answer, giving him an out. 

"It's my thing," Jake says. His eyes lock onto the cleft of you, and he licks his lip, biting at the bottom one. Reaching up, he grabs one of your hands and brings it up to his hair, encouraging you to thread your fingers there. His fingers that are teasing you spread you open more, and he groans, "Oh yeah you're my thing." 

Jake's tongue traces over you, probing until he finds the spot that makes your hips jump. Once Jake finds your clit he doesn't waste his time. Widening his mouth, he latches on and sucks. While he starts gently, he ramps up to sucking hard and twisting his tongue as he does. When you pull at his hair, he moans encouragingly.

"More," you request tugging his hair gently. Jake listens, sliding a finger into you. Whispering praise into your thighs about how pretty you are and how good you taste. You don't know how long Jake spends between your thighs, but he doesn't seem to be in any hurry. He sucks and licks, fucking his finger into you until the sound is sloppy and wet. He slips a second finger in, stretching you, occasionally scissoring them wider open in you. 

Even when you are whining and gasping, working against Jake's tongue, he doesn't let up. You don't have the mind to worry how you're trying to suffocate him with your thighs, which he keeps pushing back open with no complaints. All that you can focus on is Jake, how good he is making you feel, and how close you're getting. It's a matter of time until you're shuddering and falling apart for him.  

Continuing to lavish attention even as you jerk with sensitivity, Jake seems content to keep eating you out. You try to pull him away by his hair, but he just licks into you harder. "Jake, enough," you whine, trying to wiggle away from his mouth.

 "I haven't had my fill yet, Doll," he says, pulling his mouth off you but not going far, pressing wet kisses to your thighs. 

"I haven't even seen your cock yet, and I don't know why it isn't in me." You say, trying to reason with him. It doesn't come out very strong, though as Jake's fingers curl in you, making your cunt flutter. 

"Patience is a virtue," he teases.

"Being virtuous isn't really at the forefront of my mind at the moment."

Jake sighs dramatically and presses one more kiss to your pussy before sitting back on his haunches. You can see the hard outline of him in his briefs as he gets off the bed. You watch his every move closely, more than ready to finally see him naked.

However, Jake is clearly taking some sort of joy from making you wait, because he detours to start picking up your hastily thrown clothing. As he is laying them out on the chair, you lose your patience. Grabbing one of his decorative pillows, you throw it at him. It smacks him between his shoulder blades before dropping to the floor with a thunk. 

Spinning to face you, Jake crosses his arms over his chest, making his biceps bulge, his eyebrow raised. "Did you just hit me with a pillow?" 

"No, I wouldn't do that," You deny trying to look innocent. Jake tsks at you, picking up the makeshift weapon and setting that neatly on the chair as well. 

"Being desperate for my cock isn't an excuse to misbehave, baby." 

"Big talk for someone who still hasn't shown it to me. It's okay if you don't have a pretty dick, Jake. It won't change how I feel. I'm still going to want you to fuck me."  

Goading someone into action was a wonderful tactic you had learned over the course of your friendship with Jake. Something he easily did with others, and something tonight that it proved was just as effective against him because he doesn't even respond to your words. Sliding off his underwear, his dick springs free. He's hard from eating you out, and just from the first glance you get, it's clear there isn't one thing for him to be self-conscious about. 

The fleshy pink length is nestled among dark hair, and the size of him is nothing to dismiss. It's a very symmetrical cock, lining up nicely with his balls and adonis belt. Bouncing a bit as he gets back on the bed, you can't bring yourself to look away. You know he is going to fill you so deliciously. When he's finally close enough for you to touch, you hesitate though. 

"Speechless?" Jake wonders, with no ounce of shame or self-consciousness present. 

"Can I touch?" You ask. Jake nods, taking your hand and bringing it to your mouth. You suck a few of your fingers in, wetting them with your spit. Then he guides your hand to his dick, encouraging you to wrap it around him. Jake's hand covers yours for the first few strokes, showing you what he likes, but then it falls away, letting you explore. He grunts when you trace one of the veins that runs along the side, following it down to cup his balls. He allows your teasing for a few more strokes before he pulls you close, kissing you hard. 

The hard planes of Jake's naked body pressed against yours is nearly too much. He is so close and yet not close enough. With some gentle maneuvering, Jake is in between your legs and checking that the position is comfortable for you. Jake runs his length through your lips, the head bumping into your clit. Despite all the encouragement and build up, he's still not in a hurry. When his cock is wet from you, it starts to slide effortlessly. Losing your patience, you cup Jake's face, making him look you in the eyes. 

"Jake, fuck me now. Please." You say. He nods, kissing you slowly. Then finally, he grabs his cock lining himself up and pushing the tip into you. When his pelvis meets yours, he holds himself there, your breaths mingling together in light pants as he stretches you out. The time he gives you to stretch and adjust is necessary, but once you have, Jake fills you deliciously. 

"How're you feeling baby?" He asks. Your thumb moves across his cheekbone, soothing until the worry lines between his eyebrows disappear. Only responding when you know you're okay and so is he, "Perfect. Feel so full of you."

"I'll fill you up," Jake promises. 

"Yeah?" You ask. He hums his agreement and rocks his hips against your experimental, drawing a small gasp from you. 

"Promise," he says, starting a lazy punctuated rhythm, moving his hips against yours. Your hands explore the skin of his back as he thrusts into you. You hike a leg up on Jake's hips, letting him get a little deeper in you. The action makes him moan, and he pulls your other leg up around his hip, too. 

Hooking your ankles together, you use the leverage to encourage Jake to fuck into you faster. Digging your heels into his ass and lifting your hips up to meet each of his thrusts increases the heat boiling between you. His face falling into your neck, Jake starts whispering dirty praise about how good you feel around him and how long he's been dreaming about this. 

Stamina clearly isn't something that Jake is lacking in. He fucks you until you are both dripping with sweat, and you are begging for him noncoherently, unable to process anything but how good his cock feels. He maintains a steady rhythm, snapping his hips to meet yours the whole time. 

"You feel so good. Want to get you there again. What do you need?" Jake pants huskily. 

"Harder," you answer shakily, snaking your hand to play with your clit. You're close, and you know it's not going to take much more for you to get there with how long Jake's been building you up. He listens, slamming his hips more pointedly into you, grinding his pelvis every time he bottoms out. 

Huffing, Jake pulls out of you a few minutes later. Making you cry out wantonly, reaching for his retreating body. He takes a moment to kiss both your hands that he unhooks from his neck. Then, shushing you gently, he grabs a pillow and lifting your hips, he slides it under them.

"It's okay, just a little better angle." He explains to you. You flop back on the bed, content to have Jake manhandle you any which way he wants if it means he'll be in you again.  

"Oh, you're such a needy thing, aren't you?" He asks, as your cunt clenches around nothing, empty and wanting him. His fingers dipping in to play with the wet dripping from you. A flash of shame passes through you as he asks that. You drop your arms that had been reaching out for him back to the bed, and you screw your eyes shut, turning your face to the side looking away from him. 

Jake had already got you to cum once, and it was possible he didn't want you all over him as he was trying to get off now. Preferences were probably something y'all should have talked about more in depth before jumping into intimacy. You didn't want him to think you were overly needy or hard to please. You didn't want to ruin what you and Jake could have the very first time together. Noticing the shift in your enthusiasm Jake immediately stops pressing his cock into you, worriedly asking, "What's wrong?" 

"Nothing," you answer, staring up at the ceiling looking for patterns there. It's easier to play this off if you don't have to look at him; easier if you don't have to acknowledge the unexpected, unwelcome swell of emotion that's overcoming you. 

"Doll, look at me." He orders you, but you shake your head, refusing. Jake grips your chin, tilting your face to meet his eyes. They are intense studying you intently, completely focused on you. "The honesty we just promised each other needs to extend to sex nearly more than anywhere else going forward with this relationship," Jake says seriously. His hard dick is pressed against your thigh, and you don't know how he's able to have such a level-headed conversation considering the circumstances, just having been balls deep in you a minute ago. "So, what's wrong?" 

"I don't want to be too high maintenance or needy," You sigh, trying to work through your words. Knowing this conversation is important, but also not completely sure how to express what you're feeling. "Sometimes I might seem needy, or maybe I could take a while to cum or not at all, which wouldn't be a reflection of you. I don't want you to think, well, I don't want to be too much for you to change your mind about this, and now I'm ruining the mood with a dumb fucking insecurity."

"Stop," Jake says gently, but leaving no room for argument. "You haven't ruined anything. I'm sorry I called your pussy needy. I didn't know it would make you feel this way. Can I tell you something, though, Doll?" When you give a hesitant nod, Jake's voice drops so low it's nearly gravelly. "I want you to be needy. I want your pussy desperate for my cock, desperate for my cum. I want you as desperate for me as I am for you." 

"You're desperate for me too?"

"Frantically and wildly so." He answers easily. Then he asks with his thumb ghosting over your nub, "Are we okay? Is this still okay?" 

"Yeah, this is good," You sigh, enjoying the zing that runs up your back when he nudges your clit more pointedly. 

Jake grabs his cock, giving it a few languid strokes before he guides it back into you. You push your hips up to meet him. The new angle that the pillow gives him leverage to hit somewhere that's just a delicious feeling. As he rocks into you, his thumb maintains its place on your clit. Your fear of the mood having been ruined proves wrong as the coil in your core quickly builds, pushing you near the edge once more. 

"Cum in me, Jake, please. Give me a baby," you request, your thighs quivering as you near your orgasm. 

As his hips snap nearly frantically, Jake rolls your clit over in nearly the same rhythm. He moans your name a minute later, falling over the edge and spilling inside of you. Though his hips stutter to a stop leaving himself fully seated in you, he continues working over your clit. It doesn't take long until you're dissolving into pleasure along with him. 

The ripples run through your body, and you feel every muscle tense and relax, turning into jelly. Jake grunts when you spasm around him but doesn't move or pull out until you've fully melted into the bed on the downward crest of your peak. 

When he does pull out, he doesn't go far, shifting enough to spoon you. Settling behind you, Jake pulls you close to his chest, wrapping you tight in his arms. His hand is tracing lazy patterns on your hip and occasionally venturing to the soft skin of your belly. You don't have the mind to be self-conscious at the moment, still a little too blissed out. It takes significant brain power to process his question when he asks, "Do you actually want to have a baby?" 

"Do you?" You wonder. 

"You can't answer a question with a question," Jake chastises you. Turning in his arms so you are sprawled against his chest, you snuggle close, nuzzling him affectionately. 

"Do you know how it was seeing you with Jackson today?" You ask him. 

"If it was even half of how it felt seeing you hold him, then I'm sorry." 

"Whatever you felt, double it. Triple it even." You say lightly. "It was enough for me to ask my friend, who I thought could never want me, for a baby." 

"I do want you," Jake immediately reassures you. 

"Thank goodness for baby fever, then. Because at least now we know we want each other," you reason, slowly starting to draw mindless patterns of your own against his skin. 

Jake heaves a sigh and strokes his hand down your back, wondering, "Was this just baby fever?" 

"No," you answer after thinking about it for a long span of silence. "I would have a baby with you. It seems right. I want that, I think." You can feel the relief in his body, hearing that, all his tension easing into relaxation. 

"Good," is the only response he gives you, kissing the crown of your head. You expect more but don't get it. Rather, Jake seems content to just bask in the afterglow. That doesn't seem to be too bad an idea, so you close your eyes, listening to his steady heartbeat.  

When you wake up from your impromptu nap, you're not alone in bed. However, you are now under the covers of a different comforter than there was before, and Jake is no longer acting as your pillow. He is on the other side of the bed, but his hand is stretched out, grazing the middle of your back. 

Rolling to face him, you admire the sight he makes stretched out on the bed, leaning against the headboard. Jake's got a book open, folded in half, clearly abusing the book's binding just so he can have one hand on you. When he notices you sleepily admiring him, Jake shoots you a soft smile. 

"Hey baby," he whispers. 

"Hi," You whisper back scooting closer to him and grab the hand that had been touching you, threading your fingers together. 

"Let's go on a date," Jake suddenly springs on you, squeezing your hand. 

"I would love that," you respond, feeling giddy as butterflies erupt in your stomach. "Want something first, though."

"I already told you I would give you anything you want, and I meant it," Jake says, setting his book on his bedside table and giving you his full attention. 

"Good, because I want round two and a shower, which hopefully has round three involved." 

"Your wish is my command," Jake says easily. You move even closer to him so your lips are only a breath apart. "I meant it, the ring, the house, the baby. I can make it all happen by tomorrow." 

"Let's start with breakfast in bed," you say, kissing him hard. When your lips hardly touch because you're both smiling too wide, well, that actually makes it feel all the better. 

[entities-of-posts]

Greetings valued Archive visitors, the letterbox has been overflowing for quite some time and I am not able to keep up with it. I will be closing it temporarily, making a valiant effort at answering a chunk of the hundreds of questions trapped in there, and then unfortunately I will have no choice but to clear the rest, because I will never manage to read and reply to everything that has accumulated in there. The inbox will be opened again soon once this is done!

[valiantroeagleangel]

Babe, babe, babe…I’m sorry but I’ve seen requests you just received for Will fics and I couldn’t help myself and felt the uRgE to send one too because let’s face it: that man is so handsome and sweet and deserves so much more love and recognition.

Anyways, Will has this super adorable needy puppy energy that has me melting, and no one can convince me otherwise. So I was thinking: post tour Will, being eXtrA needy, needing cuddles and being touched 24/7, demands kisses and hugs all the time…you can make it just fluffy sweet or you can add smut too, whatever your beautiful heart and mind desires.

I just want to thank you for sharing your works with us, you’re so talented 🥺

Listen to me my dear, don't be sorry. WE WILL BRING THE WILL RAMOS SUPREMACY ON THIS EARTH.

I'm down on my knees for needy puppy Will. I can die for this request because I visualise it way too much and I fucking like that. I'm adding that to the list immediately.

Y'all, be ready to drown under fanfictions omg.

And just, thank you for your request and your support. I swear those sweet words are working way too good on me.

As a non-English speaker sometimes writing is so hard I worry I might write awful things but you are just so lovely I- 😫

[justporo]

I just read your headcanons about Astarion, they are so good!! And since he is the hardest for me to understand I'd love to read your headcanons/input about: Him trying to manipulate Tav into liking him, but she simply doesn't get it and thinks he is just after her body and blood (of course she never says that unless he would challenge her)

Alright, I had this sitting in my inbox for a while mostly because I had to give it a good think, my dear. And I'm really digging the idea that Tav is just super oblivious to his manipulation tactics, so have some

Headcanons about Astarion trying to manipulate a completely oblivious Tav

Astarion starts out flirting with Tav just the same he's always done with everyone: trying to pick up on a few things to work it into his routine (even if it is stupid)

"So, darling... knives, eh? I bet you're even sharper than your weapons, my dear." (spoiler alert: obviously this is not the case...)

Or maybe it is just, that you see through his games immediately and were prepared to help him from the start

He really, REALLY puts his back into it but his tactics just won't work with you, you don't seem to pick up on any of the flirting

In turn though, you really don't need to be manipulated, you just offer help "You know, Astarion, if you need some of my blood you can just tell me, it doesn't bother me."

And that makes him very suspicious of you because no one has ever reacted like this, this is not how this thing works! "I bet our sweet little leader very much has an agenda of their own, if you ask me." "And what would that be, Astarion? Go for world domination while the worm slowly devours my brain? Is it so hard to believe that people maybe just want to do the right thing." "Yes actually, oh valiant, noble leader, it is hard to believe - at least for me!" And you see the pain in his eyes as he says that

So the flirty behaviour turns into mean sass very quickly, he snaps at you at every given opportunity - because why would anyone just offer help to a vampire? Nobody could be this good, right? And then also: why did it take so long for him to meet someone like you?

But when you keep offering help and just support him, he breaks at some point; first because he has no other option it seems but later on he allows himself to believe if only just a little and he dares to have just a tiny fraction of hope

Later on when he confesses he was trying to manipulate you and fell for his own trap, you just wrap him in your arms and softly tell him, that he doesn't have to worry about stuff like this anymore; "I just want you to be happy and safe, Astarion, that's all."

And he might not fully or even partially believe you in this moment, but a seed of hope and love is surely firmly planted

So basically, just slam him with support until the sassy little vampire falls in the pit he dug himself, hehe.

Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @azukiel

[valiant-if]

hex, actively shooting at mc: we don't even have dental!

mc, dodgerolling, shaking their head commiseratingly: they don't even have dental...

they don't even have dental! 😭 but they certainly get paid well enough to make up for it 👀

[burningcheese-merchant]

"Eyes" - BurningCheese Short Story #4

I have a bunch of asks in my inbox, and I would like to answer them... but I also want to get this short story finished and posted before my SO nags me about going to bed super late again lol.

I'll answer people's messages tomorrow! In the meantime, enjoy this short! Thanks for your patience and thanks to those who reached out! I always enjoy and appreciate people taking the time to tell me their thoughts!

'Were they always like this...?' Golden Cheese wondered. 'So bright...'

Burning Spice returned her curious stare with a smile and nothing more. He quite liked this unprompted attention, honestly. Just how long would it last, if he kept choosing not to interrupt it?

'So bold... I don't think I've ever seen anything like it...'

"Birdie~" he called to her playfully. (He couldn't help it. She looked so cute when she concentrated that he simply had to say something.)

'So red... The shade of White Lily's eyes is so much more... calm. Subdued.'

"Little bird?" His smile began to falter.

'And his pupils... Were they always like this, as well? Was he born with a beast's eyes, right from the very beginning?'

"Little thief?" His tone sounded less playful and more... confused.

'What is it... Just what do I see...'

"Golden Cheese?"

"Hm?"

Only now did she realize that Burning Spice had invaded her personal space (as he was wont to do) by leaning down and resting his forehead against hers. Perhaps that was why his eyes seemed so bright, at least in part - they were hardly an inch from her own now.

When he knew she was back in the waking world, his smile returned. "There you are," he said. "Why are you staring at me, little thief? Can I help you with something?"

"I..." She averted her gaze from him, her cheeks flushing red with embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she said. "I don't mean to be so rude. I was... lost in thought."

"I could tell," he chuckled. "And where did your mind wander off to? Somewhere to do with me?"

"Nowhere important," she said, still refusing to look at him.

"Come on. Tell me. Sing for me, pretty bird." He cupped her chin. "You don't want to keep being rude, do you? Not looking at someone when they talk to you is very rude. Turn those pretty eyes back to me and speak your mind."

"Eyes..." she murmured. She did what he asked and looked at him again, her gaze once more unwavering and... curious. "That's what I was thinking about, actually."

"What do you mean?"

"Your eyes," she said. "That's where my mind wandered off to, Burning Spice. Straight into your eyes."

"Ah, I see." His lips curled into another teasing smile. "What about them? You like them?"

"They're very unique," she told him. "I know plenty of people with red eyes... including a dragon and a man made of fire... and even their eyes aren't quite like yours."

"I certainly hope not. I'd rather you stare into my eyes than theirs."

She made a face at him and gently swatted at his cheek, earning her another chuckle. "I mean it," she said. "I'm not saying this lightly. Your eyes are... one of a kind."

"Such high praise," he purred. "I think and say the same of yours, pretty bird."

"I feel... drawn to them, when I look at them," she continued, past his little attempt at flirting. "I'm not sure how else to put it. I see them and I think of..."

"Of...?" he echoed.

"...Of many things," she eventually finished. "They aren't static. They grow brighter, dimmer... I almost wonder if you change them at will."

"Maybe I do. Maybe I don't." He leaned in the slightest bit closer, letting his nose brush against hers. "Regardless, what do they make you think of? What do you see? Tell me. I'm curious."

She paused, losing herself in thought for another moment. Burning Spice stayed put, patient but eager, waiting for her answer.

"I see... a star," she finally told him. "I see stars, shining brilliantly within the vastness of space. I see them glowing, twinkling, burning so bright... and I see them falling apart. Collapsing in on themselves. Dying valiantly in an all-consuming flame. These beacons of light in a deep, dark ocean, succumbing to loneliness at long last... but not with a whisper. With a bang. With aplomb. With the same brilliance they had possessed all their lives."

His smile grew. "Yeah? What else?"

"I see a great inferno," she continued. "A spark that grew out of control and into something too powerful for anyone to stop. Waves of fire crashing down, consuming everything in their path in mindless fury. Swallowing a forest whole and spitting out its ashes. Striking primal fear in the hearts of all who see it. Rampaging across the world until either someone puts an end to its reign of terror, or there is nothing left to consume, and so it consumes itself instead."

He hummed. For a moment, just a moment, his smile faltered again. He composed himself quickly - but not quickly enough for Golden Cheese not to notice.

"I see... a fire pit," she said, a bit more carefully this time. "A stove top, an oven, a nest of metal and charcoal... I see someone hard at work, their brows knit, tending to the flames as a mother tends to her child. Hammering away at a piece of unrefined steel, sprinkling salt into a pan, carefully molding a mound of clay. Perhaps only for a few hours, perhaps for days and nights. But at the end, when they're finished, I see them reach into those flames they cared for so diligently and pull out the fruits of their labor. A fine sword. A delicious meal. A beautiful vase. Something new, something great. From within this force of death and destruction still comes creation and ingenuity."

A blush began to creep across Burning Spice's face. "I..."

"Now, I don't see these things all at once, all the time," she told him. "They... change. The flames in your eyes rise and fall. They glow, they simmer, they explode. Never a dull moment, in those eyes of yours."

"Yeah?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," she echoed quietly.

"Then... if they always change..." He let his hand wander up from her chin to her cheek, his fingers ghosting over her skin. "What do they change into... when I do this?"

He kissed her. Slowly, deeply, those fiery eyes still open and gazing into her own. And she stared right back at him, shining gold gazing into smoldering embers. Red, orange, yellow, white... all the colors of summer. Heat and light and unashamed passion, boring into her soul.

When he pulled away, he let himself linger, his lips still just barely brushing against her own. She could feel his hot breath on her lips, on her skin. Still taste it in her mouth.

"And now?" he asked. "What do you see now?"

She didn't answer. She only continued staring at him in silence, lost in his warm gaze.

"Tell me, Golden Cheese," he insisted, caressing her cheek. It was a deep red and hot to the touch. "What do my eyes look like now? What do you see in them?"

"...I..."

He pressed another kiss to her lips. "Tell me," he said again. "Please. I want to know. I must know."

"I see..." She faltered again. Another moment of silence passed before she spoke again.

"I see a hearth," she murmured.

"You do?" He smiled again... with the same warmth and adoration she saw glittering in his eyes. "What about it? What kind?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She closed her eyes, staying still and silent... and then she sighed softly, shaking her head.

"Sorry," she said. "I'm sorry. I..."

"Sorry? What for?"

She was already pulling away from him. The spell had seemingly been broken; now she was tearing her eyes away from his own and casting them any which way. Anywhere but him.

"It's rude to stare at people, Burning Spice," she said.

She turned and started walking away, her head slightly bowed. He stood frozen in shock for a moment or two, before he snapped out of it and hurried after her.

"I don't care!" he told her. "Who cares about that? I don't mind if you're rude! Be as rude as you'd like!"

"Sorry," she said quickly, shaking her head again.

"Where are you going?" he asked. "Why are you leaving me? At least let me say my piece! Let me tell you what your eyes show me!"

"Maybe another time," she told him, her cheeks turning a shade darker.

"No! Now! Let me do it now!" He rushed up to her side, now keeping perfect pace with her. "Ignoring others when they talk to you is rude too, remember?! If you don't want to be rude, then stay! Stay with me! Let us tell each other more of our thoughts!"

They stayed in this loop for a little while. Golden Cheese with her arms crossed and face a deep scarlet, walking away from her own foolishness with increasing speed. Burning Spice with his pleading look, those telltale flames now crackling frantically, always hot on her heels and fighting to take back their little moment.

Until she had enough of their charade and took off into the air, with a flap of her wings so sudden and forceful that the gust of wind nearly knocked him over, and he found himself pouting after her as she flew up and away.

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

A supernova. That's what that first thing Golden Cheese talks about is. She sees supernovae in Burning Spice's eyes. Haha.

Something I often like to do (or attempt to do) when I write is... try to tell people what something is without outright stating it. Describe an object without mentioning its name. Let people put those pieces together themselves. Let their minds wander. Leave a few spots on the canvas blank, so they can fill them in on their own. It's a fun little challenge. A guessing game. Keeps people reading, if only to figure out what you're referring to, before they skip to the glossary out of boredom or frustration.

Things lend themselves to a lot of fascinating imagery if and when you allow yourself to take on that sort of challenge and try to view them that way. Go look at a plant or a mug and try to tell yourself what it is without saying it's a plant or a mug. You start to train your mind the more you do it. Might help you write better. Hopefully. I hope it's working for me.

[fleet-of-fiction]

Jake Kiszka // Female Reader

Summary: Jake's time off is driving you crazy. You still have to work from home and he's demanding your attention. During an important phone call, he decides to take matters into his own hands. And mouth.

A/N: Enjoy this smutty little blurb I've been rolling around in my mouth for a few weeks. It's slightly self indulgent. But certainly a little something I felt needed to be shared.

Warnings: Oral sex f. Fingering. Edging. Dirty talk. Deprivation.

He was bored. Lingering in the space where you'd tried to close the door and he'd caught it, a look of boyish indignation on his face that let you know he wasn't about to let you get any work done.

"If the shoe was on the other foot..." You sighed. "And I disturbed you like this in the studio, you'd be furious."

There wasn't any desire to reject his playful insistence that you pay him some attention. There was nothing more that you wanted than to close your inbox and switch your phone off. To go downstairs with him and get settled on the couch with a glass of wine and let him delicately work his way up your body as you tried to watch a movie.

But deadlines were sat there, making your heart sink and your patience wear ever increasingly more thin. Never more so than when your love was home. His guitar case closed, the need to satisfy weeks of salacious messages exchanged from the tour bus and hotel rooms.

"Furiously turned on." He replied, flashing you a grin that sent flutters down from your stomach into the ebb of your aching core.

"Jake." You moaned, "Go and find something else to do."

You knew he wouldn't. You knew he would continue to watch you type out irrelevant e-mails and feel the mounting arousal in his gaze as you simmered under a barely there thong and t-shirt. Inappropriate to wear in an office, but a sight for sore eyes as you sat at the little desk in the corner of the house.

"There's nothing else I want to do in this house, than you." He complained, adorning the most rage inducing pout you'd ever seen.

You considered setting aside your tasks. To let him fawn over you a little while. Let him have a taste of everything he had missed, just enough to slake his need. To make him less deprived. There was mischief in his eyes and you could never squander the opportunity to see what his boredom could conjure.

"Give me five minutes." You gave in, rolling your eyes playfully but knowing his triumph would bring you to a valiant end.

He tilted his chin. Let the corners of his mouth turn upward. Smug. Like you'd put up a genuine fight. Basking in the glory of his defeat of your intention to continue working. And you would have let him have it, were it not for the tiny little name flashing up on your screen moments later.

Your boss. A name which never usually invoked much of a reaction, but as your attention began to wander it felt as if you could have slipped your phone underneath the pile of paperwork you were yet to complete and simply ignore it.

Jake watched closely to see what you would do. Shaking his head slowly as you swiped your thumb across the screen and mouthed a pathetic 'sorry' as you took the call.

That was your first mistake. To think that he would simply honour your decision to derail his mounting desire. The second was to think that he wouldn't continue in his quest to pull you away from your work load.

"I'm looking at that file right now." You said, spinning your chair around to face the computer, Jake's reflection sitting behind the ceaseless words and numbers you needed to make sense of. "No, there doesn't appear to be any anomalies. But I can double check the numbers for you and get them back to you in the next hour."

No sooner had you made that promise, you felt your chair being spun back around. Jake, on his knees, a serious expression etched on his face as he silently pleaded with you to let him have his way.

"Yes, of course." You continued, holding the phone to your ear whilst widening your eyes. "If all the files need checking I can oversee that for you."

You let your boss speak about numbers and figures. Checking and double checking files. The monotonous drone of their voice fading away as you felt the lace edge of your thong slide down your thighs. Jake, without any regard for what your boss might hear, spread your legs and licked his lips at the sight of it.

"Yes, I'm still here." You tried to focus, almost audibly moaning at the sensation of his hands moving your thighs apart. "Sorry, can you repeat that?"

He was evil for this. The daring glint in his eye as he looked up at you. The sensation of his hair as it brushed against your inner thigh. All the ways in which he brought you back to him, even as you tried to keep your focus elsewhere. He knew the battle for your attention was one that he would always win, but he enjoyed the fight. And you were powerless to stop him. Resolve dissolving as you gripped the phone a little tighter.

You let him lean you back into the arms of the office chair. Raising your knees, letting them fall open as he sank into the gravitational pull of your throbbing pussy.

"Mmmm'hmmm." You hummed, perhaps in agreeance with something your boss said, but mostly at the brush of Jake's tongue as it swept across your outer lips.

The fragility of your voice was going to be the thing which gave you away. The gentle laps of his mouth as it licked the length of your slit, causing you to arch your spine where you sat, would be your undoing.

"Of course." You carried on, trying to keep your voice steady. "I think those were the files I sent over to you last week... Yes, in the blue...folder."

You caught a look of pure unadulterated satisfaction in the way he almost made you unravel. Using two calloused finger tips to open you up even wider. Holding your pussy lips apart, he set his mouth against your swollen clit. Padding the flat of his tongue against it, causing the nerves to awaken and send a flood of arousal to every muscle and sinew in your body. All your joints became loose, and you almost dropped the phone.

"I'll have to draft up some templates." You felt ridiculous, speaking of such ordinary things whilst you were being subjected to a depraved act of sexual rebellion.

He was practically drinking from you as he pressed his nose up against your mound. Letting his mouth take all of you in. Sucking in your lips so that his tongue could reach your entrance. Feeling the sudden rush of blood to your head as his tongue ventured inside.

Your head fell back as he probed you with it. The all consuming need to take a fist of his hair and moan at the way he took you there like that had you tempted to hang up.

"No, I can get that done for you by Friday." You assured, inwardly begging and pleading for the conversation to end.

When he came up to catch his breath, you were smothered across the lower half of his face. Mouth and chin saturated in pussy juice as he ran a palm over the whisks of facial hair that glistened. He stared at you with half closed lids, like he was lost to his arousal and didn't see the phone in your hand anymore.

"Keep talking, baby." He whispered, gathering your t-shirt in a closed fist, pulling you towards his sticky mouth.

There was no doubt in your mind that the kiss would travel down the airwaves. The sound your throat made as his mouth made contact. The uncontrollable whimper that was breathy and almost silent, but not quite. The sound of his tongue as it travelled against yours, the taste of what he'd swallowed now in your mouth as you tried to hold yourself steady against the ramblings going on at the other end of the receiver.

And then the inevitable question came. Is everything alright over there? As if you could tear yourself away from his sweet breath. You kept your tongue in his mouth far longer than you'd anticipated. And when the response came, it was almost met with suspicion.

"Yes." You replied swiftly, feeling foolish for being so reckless. "Everything's fine. My apologies, what was it you were saying about the new deadline?"

He almost fell to laughter. Seeing the crimson in your cheeks and the heavy flush in the flesh at your throat. Positively wrecked by his assault. And nowhere near to being done with it.

The blurred lines between decency were ruined. All you could do was submit. Your chest heaving in shallow breaths as he lingered at your mouth with his parted slightly. Not kissing, but savouring the way your lips were a little swollen from the pressure of his mouth against them.

"Mute them." He instructed, "They don't want to hear this."

You swallowed thickly. Swiping over the little mic icon until it was crossed out. Your boss carried on talking, little musings that required no response but information you no doubt needed in order to get the next lot of projects done.

"Whatever it is you're planning on doing, do it quickly." You urged, letting him slide the phone out of your hand and place it screen down on the pile of unfinished paperwork.

"Hold on tight." He said, causing you to grip the arms of the chair in trepidation.

Pushing the hem of your t-shirt up, he exposed your breasts and rose on his knees to meet them. His body pressed up against you, warm and tender. He wasted no time in taking what he wanted. Sucking your nipple violently into his mouth as he penetrated you with two of the most delicious fingers.

And then you knew why he'd wanted that conversation muted. The sound of your wetness pounding against his knuckles was utterly pornographic. Teeth bore down into your flesh as you threw your head back and you began panting wildly at the way he punched into you. Flecks of pussy juice flicked onto your thighs, spreading up his forearm as he fucked into you with his hand.

Your entire body was shaking with the onslaught. The chair practically ready to fall back as he curled his fingers inside you and applied the most delicious pressure on those places he loved to tease the most. You couldn't breathe. Your legs felt entirely weak. Your senses heightened.

"Taking phone calls when you've promised to fuck me." He admonished, bringing his mouth to your ear as your breasts bounced against his chest. "I'm gonna teach you never to make promises like that, baby."

You loved how he made you a sloppy mess. Looking into your eyes as he vigorously forced his fingers inside you as far as they would go. Watching your brow furrow and your jaw go slack, nose wrinkled in a look of absolute hedonistic pleasure. If this was a punishment, it didn't feel much like one.

"I'm gonna lose my job, baby..." You whimpered, letting him slow to a steady pace, his fingers sliding in and out as your pussy lips pulled against saturated knuckles. "I really....fuck...I have to get back to this call..."

You could see how worked up he was. A little edge of disappointment as you picked your phone back up, your boss still prattling on as if you'd been listening the entire time. You kept eye contact with him, listening to the way your pussy sounded now that he'd ruined it.

"That all sounds fine." You interjected, "I should probably go and get a head start on all of this."

Jakes thumb was rolling around your clit. Pulling back the hood, pressing down on it like it was a big red button that shouldn't be pressed. Begging to be detonated. Your breath still lingering on errant moans you didn't dare express.

"Yes..." You could feel his intention rise. "Yes, that all sounds do-able."

You needed to let go. To feel the fissures of your orgasm that was building more clearly. He'd call it legendary, the way he'd made you let him play with you while on this seemingly important interaction. He'd talk about it again and again when he wanted to remind you that you were his.

You were about to speak when his mouth returned to you. Sucking on your tongue as if to rob you of all the words you were meant to say. You could hear your boss on the other end of the phone, waiting for your response, one that you simply couldn't make whilst letting Jake wrap his lips around you. All you could do was gently murmur until he had his fill.

"Anything you need." You said breathlessly, to your boss...to Jake. "I'm gonna go ahead and make a start on those files for you, ok?"

He slapped your pussy with the back of his hand as you came off the call. Causing you to squeal, a high pitched whine of delight.

"Oh, no..." He shook his head. "You think just because you hung up that you get to cum now, is that it?"

You would have begged. But it would have been futile.

"Stand up." He ordered, bringing you to your feet. "Palms on the desk."

The torturous beat of his ministrations continued. Thighs parted as you leaned against the array of work left undone. He fell to his knees again and licked endless stripes up from your pussy into the valley of your ass. Pressing his mouth into the moisture there. Making your begs come out in painful moans. Not in words, but in restrained little moans that did nothing to help your cause.

"You ready for my cock?" He asked, sliding a solitary fingertip down the path of where his tongue had been.

The way your head moved up and down, humming your need as the word yes spilled out... you felt the incomparable rage of your phone vibrating again.

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