#what's low effort and what's me trying to take it easy

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Commonly asked questions

How do I submit songs? Submissions are currently closed. When it opens up again, I'll post a message here stating rules and which specific info I require. If you don't supply that info along with the song, your message will be deleted.

I submitted a song when we were allowed. When will it appear? :) There's waaay over two thousand songs in my askbox. 😅 And I'm very slow at posting submitted songs because it takes an oddly more amount of time and energy than you'd think, that's why it's easier for me to go with the songs I already have. Please have a bit more patience, hopefully it'll be posted soon enough! 💖

I don't like the genres posted recently. 🤷‍♀️ I mean, you can tell me what genres there's a lack of and I'll try put more effort into adding more of them.

I don't like the poll options. 🤷‍♀️

Will there be an "Indifferent" option? No. People bitched and very rudely demanded it when the blog was new and it left a very sour taste. Also we're 250+ songs in, it's kinda meh to add it now, but I definitely understand why you want it because some songs are really hard to define if you feel anything at all about them. (also you know people would just click indifferent to see the results instead of listening to the song lol) If I were to ever add more options, it would be love/hate.

How do I vote on a song if I feel indifferent about it? Indifferent = don't like it ig. 🤷‍♀️ Remember, I'm not asking you if you LOVE!!!!!! the song, or if you want to buy it. Liking can be as good as only a "meh, it's ok / decent enough to run in the background". Disliking can be being indifferent instead of outright hating it, when it's so neutral to you that it doesn't give you any positive feelings. It is only a minute long clip that I'm asking you to form an opinion about after all; you can change your mind either way when you hear the full version. Sometimes songs have to grow on you!

How do you pick the songs used in the polls? Mostly like this:

I have a huge mp3 hoarding archive so the submitted songs are easier for me to pick if they're already in my possession. 😅 Songs that aren't in my collection (tagged as #new to admin :D lol. sometimes i search out songs specifically for the poll that are tagged this as well) requires a bit more effort to download/listen to/edit but i have discovered a couple of great new gems so don't think i don't appreciate them!

How do I search for a specific artist/song that you've posted? All artists are tagged a day or so after the song reveal. Don't forget to use the hashtag symbol when searching or tumblr will give you all sorts of odd results!!!! (or none at all, lol) Please also remember that tumblr finds simple easy tasks extremely difficult, so only search for an artist with the easiest type of spelling, like #beyonce instead of #beyoncé. All artists and songs are added to the Complete Song List once their showdown poll is finished, for a quick search of what's been posted.

The audio quality is too poor for my taste!! 😡 sad </3

This is just for you. 💖

Why are all the songs of such vast variating quality? ....i mean, you didn't think I've bought all the tens of thousands of songs in my music library, did you...? Pirating songs gives you variations of quality, hell even my own cd rips have variations. It's easier to get better quality files now than it was back in the days, kiddos, so yeah some songs in the archives needs to be updated with new files. I have some very ancient mp3's that are in really low sound, that i've instead downloaded newer versions of in better quality for the polls but y'all still give me shit about it because the artist have remastered the track to unrecognition or whatever so there's just no pleasing some people i guess lmao. 😂

Do you like all the songs you've posted? No, lol. All the songs that are in my archive are songs I've at least liked enough once upon a time to save them, even if I'm not actively listening to them much anymore. Everything tagged as #new to admin :D are new songs to me that I may or may not like, regardless if they're submitted or if I've scouted them out myself only for the polls. :) Songs that I hate so much that I can't stand them are very few, and I won't waste time on adding them!

Did you change the song in the poll?? No. Maybe you clicked on the wrong one if I posted them too close together or maybe (most likely) tumblr has screwed something up for you. Some songs don't even show at times because it's tumblr being tumblr, just wait it out for a few minutes and tumblr will eventually remember to play the audio. So far there's only one song that I had to re-upload because tumblr killed the file. I can change the clip to better audio or to another part of the same song, but I never replace it to a different one once it's out there for you to vote on, I don't see the point of doing that.

Why are some polls audio files and other video files? Again: tumblr being tumblr. They won't allow some songs to be uploaded as audio, but using them in videos is ok. I hate the audio-as-video format and it requires even more effort from me so I'm not doing it on purpose. :)

I don't remember if I've heard this song before or not. If you know you've heard it, like if you're a fan or a hater or the song has been constantly played on the radio, you know it. (this is why the phrasing has been changed again in the latest polls) If you don't remember it, or just vaguely, or just a specific tiny part used in a meme/tiktok video, choose first time. The only thing that matters is the yes or no, knowing it or not is just an added fun but don't take it too seriously. :) Look at it sort of like "old fan/casual listener/hater vs new listener".

The part of the song that you posted SUCKS!!!! You should have just posted this one specific famous part for people to vote yes! "don't post the actual song in this song poll" ...................................like, no. not gonna post just the meme-bits or the drops or the whatever. Yeah i saw all the comments how you all clicked dislike on "Out of Touch" because you voted before you got to the chorus 😂 That's an honest opinion about the song lol, because a song is more than just a catchy chorus or a big drop. But yeah, sometimes one verse of a song would've maybe been better to post instead of that other verse, I'm with you on that.

I queued this song to see what it is but it's still stated as being Anonymous for me! Reblogs, drafts and queues will only show you what's there at the time, like a screenshot. It won't update automatically. All your reblogs, drafts and queued posts from when the poll is active will only show up as Anonymous songs. Always go back to the original post to see the song reveal. If the info isn't there, then give me a day or two to update the post because most likely things are too busy irl. 💖

I voted wrong/voted before I recognized the song! Will you change my vote? No, I'm not recounting anything wth. 😅

I'm embarrassed. I like the song but I don't want others to know that I do. I promise you that nobody but you can see how you've voted. Not me or your mutuals. Only you see what you've voted on. It's ok to like bad songs, and it's ok to like good songs by bad people. Don't let others shame you for that.

How do I vote on this cover/remix that was posted instead of the original? If you feel like this version is close to the original that you like, vote yes. If you don't feel like this version does the original song justice, vote no, even if it hurts.

This song that I don't know samples another song that I do know. How do I vote? I don't consider samples being used as being the same song, so pick first time. Unlike covers/remixes, the original song that has been sampled might show up at a later time, if it hasn't already been on here before.

How does so many people not know this song!!? Everyone is not your age/not from your country and your experience is not universal. 🤷‍♀️ That being said, I too get wtf-moments sometimes because some songs really do get wacky results, so, yeah 😂

Have you ever thought about-- Yes.

I demand you give me a rickroll!!!!!! Ask things nicely instead of demanding things from me. (This is the most common demand I've gotten, sigh. Thanks to those of you who have at least asked nicely and/or with a sense of humour!)

Please do a rickroll? It's already been posted in a bonus poll. It might show up in a "real" poll in years from now if this poll blog is still active but as of now it was added to a tumblr meme post where it was better suited.

I'm gonna ignore that submissions are closed and send you song suggestions anyway!!!! They will be deleted because they're not asked for atm. Unless you're the artist. Exceptions can be made in that case. :)

This poll blog doesn't respect my requirement to know who the artists are before I listen to their songs because of my need - that is very important that everyone else needs to acknowledge and follow - to know if a person is of a good moral standing according to my own views!! 😡 There's other poll blogs better suited for you. Not everything online has to be adjusted to fit *your* particular needs. 🤷‍♀️ (YES i've actually gotten this demand way too often. Sigh.)

Why was my reblog hidden from the notes where I spew hatred over an artist?! You are censoring me!!!! Did you mention the artist by name, or other obvious spoilers? Don't post spoilers. 🤷‍♀️

You hid this other comment I made with no spoilers!!!!! Sometimes comments show in dashboard mode but not in app mode and vice versa, or not even in the notifications. Haven't we already established that tumblr finds easy stuff extremely difficult? Also, sometimes you and I don't share an opinion of what a spoiler means. To all of you who have claimed an artist's name isn't a spoiler, yeah it's kind of a big one. As for the artist mentioning their own name or the song title in the song, you only hear that once you listen to the clip. Knowing it before even clicking to play the music is a spoiler.

Why have you turned off replies? I want to say things without reblogging!! I mean 🤷‍♀️ I'm sure you know why. Replies and anons have been turned off from the very beginning. The few times replies actually have been turned on, it's been stated as such and been very temporarily, like when we've discussed music in some post.

Turn on anon!!! I'm to shy to say thing off-anon! I mostly reply to things privately, or this blog would be nothing but q&a. Anons are off for a reason. Abuse and death threats are to be associated with the sender's account for all to see. I'm always nice to nice people so there's no need to worry about sending me questions or tagging me in things. :) 💖

I demand you to-- Pay me. :)

Shut up and take the abuse thrown at you personally because you're just a poll blog! You are aware that the poll blogs on tumblr aren't actually run by bots, right? Don't be an obnoxious twat. (and ughh yes, this too has been said to me several times. Sigh.)

I want you to add this song I want RIGHT NOW and/or i WANT these other options added now! Rich people can always break all the rules, just like irl. Just give me the $$$$ 😘

I don't like this song because I don't understand the language. Please only post English songs. Ok well, I mean, you can always learn other languages. 🤷‍♀️ Just like how I learned English.

If anyone feels targeted by these last questions without me meaning to, I'm sorry. These actually are the most common questions and comments and demands I've gotten in my askbox. Especially when the blog was new and people Demanded Their Rights to have me adjust everything to suit them. Don't feel like you can't state your thoughts in reblogs or in messages because as long as you're not being rude to me, my attitude on some answers isn't targeted at you, only at them. 💖 Remember to just have fun with the polls and hopefully you and/or your mutuals discover new music!

#qna

[daily-ethoslab]

my bad for not adding skizz won't happen again

#i didnt forget him I promise I don't know why I left him out #i love zkizz this is a sin I should repent or something #tt #i think its cause I don't have a good design for him and this was a lower effort drawing and i cant just draw him normally #he has to be weird and fucked up u know #and I've drawn him a lot but I didn't want to put in the energy at the moment #same as to why they arnt laughing in this drawing #cause I can't just slap an XD face on them and call it a day cause their poses would look weirdly stiff #then I would have to complicate the poses and I didn't feel like doind that cause I'm lazy #no its cause I spent a lot of my drawing energy earlier and I didn't want to burn out so I cut a few corners #i dont know where the line is sometimes #what's low effort and what's me trying to take it easy #I hope this doesn't come off as me venting I'm trying to reflect haha #anyways silly skizz doodle #this should inspire me to stay up a little later to do a few skizz designs tho #wegh

[toytulini]

god my executive dysfunction is so fucking Bad lately

#toy txt post #so many tasks and dont want to Do anything and like on the one hand Theyre Not That Hard it wont take THAT long i have plenty of time #on the other hand #it will take like 5fucking hrs and if it doesnt i will find a way to make take 5fucking hours and all this and i still havent eaten #enough for breakfast but like??? what am i supposed to waste energy on actually cooking something? #man i love eggs but i think maybe id actually struggle if i had chickens not cos id get tired of eating eggs but cos #all the low effort ways to consume eggs gross me out and the ways i like are not THAT high effort but its too high effort to be #an everyday thing for me :( #okay i have gotta stop thinking about the State Of Things. and figure out a nutrient dense thing to eat for breakfast thats quick and easy #and that i actually like to eat. but also i maybe want coffee so i should not have a clif bar. augh #IT IS 3PM. FUCK. I FUCKING WOKE UP AT LIKE 9!!!!! AND TOOK MY MEDS EARLY AND I STILL END UP NOT DOING FUCKING ANYTHING AT ALL TIL 3PM #i hate this i need to like #fully reset. i need to go to bed at idk. 9pm and wake up at like 5am and get dressed and go out fucking early i hate this!!!!! #i hate !!!! not fucking functioning!!!!!! aaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!! #i need a therapist or smth but like one that will find a way to word shit so that it doesnt piss me off and make me want to pettily not do #things that would maybe help #agh #i have been trying to get better about #doing my physical therapy at least

[luveline]

Mothers day lil fic with eddie x reader from june baby? 👉🏻👈🏻

mom!reader, 1.5k “Big stretch!”

You hold your arms above your head, stretching as tall as you can go. Your t-shirt rises and exposes the soft stretch of your tummy, stretch marks decorating your skin and lightened in the sun as you lean to your left side.

“Okay, now we count. One, two…”

“Three,” Junie says. “Five, six, seven.”

“You forgot four, babe. Let’s try again, okay?” You stretch to your right side. “One, two, three…”

“Five, six, four–”

You giggle. Junie, who wasn’t doing a very good job at copying your yoga poses to begin with, hears you laughing and drops her short arms to her sides. “Tummy!” she says, jumping forward to push her hand into your stomach.

“I’m telling Eddie you did that. So nasty.” You drop your arms.

“Tummy,” she says again, poking at your belly button.

You catch her hands in yours and level her with a feigned glare. “What are you trying to say about my tummy?”

She beams. It’s lovely to have a little baby that looks like you. Her joy is yours, her smile made up of your lips and teeth. She’s a mirror, and you could never not think she was gorgeous —it makes you gorgeous too.

“Guess we’re done stretching?” you ask.

She lifts her hands to your sides, a gesture to be grabbed. You lean down to collect her and drag her up for a hug, holding her low at the back to encourage face to face time. “What, you’re not talking to me?” you ask warmly.

She touches your neck.

“I know,” you say. You’re pretty sure you get it.

Outside, tires roll across grass and road alike. You listen for the whine of Eddie’s van as it parks, grinning all over again when it comes. He’s not supposed to see you today, it’s Sunday, he has too much stuff to do.

If he’s outside, it means he swapped his shifts again or called out, which means he’s gonna give you one of his speeches about being sickly sweet in love with you. You can pretend you don’t like them as much as you want, but there’s no better feeling than being loved like you’re something special.

You open the door before he can, and he needs it, anyhow. To your confusion, he’s carrying a cellophane wrapped bouquet made up of a hundred different colours and a white box in the other, arms full and naked, no jacket to hide from the early summer sun. Your eyes widen as he gets to the steps. He looks like he made an effort to see you (and it doesn’t matter that he doesn’t always, you love him as he is, but you can’t help asking yourself why).

“What’s going on?” you ask.

Eddie smiles. “What do you mean?”

“What’s the stuff for?” There’s a bag hanging from his elbow.

“This stuff?” he asks, cresting the last step.

“Hi,” Junie says.

“Hi, babe.”

“Hi.” She reaches for the flowers. “Pretty.”

“You think so? I got them for your mommy but I’m sure she’ll share them with you.”

You’re nonplussed as he moves in to kiss your cheek and skirt around you. “Come on. This stuff’s heavy,” he says, the cellophane crunching against his chest as he squeezes past you into your home.

“Eddie, what is that stuff?”

“You don’t know what day it is today?”

You think about it for a second at least. “No?”

It’s not your birthday, not Junie’s. You and Eddie can’t have made it to your first anniversary already, but perhaps six months? You try to do the maths in your head. Eddie puts the white box on your kitchen table, the bag on Junie’s high chair, and the flowers by the sink.

“You really don’t know, do you?” he asks, some sympathy in play.

“Eddie, we did stretches!” Junie says from your arms.

You offer her to him. He wraps her up and makes it look easy, baby on his hip. Quick kiss pressed to her cheek. “Yeah? Mom’s got you doing yoga again?”

You’re drawn to the box like a magnet.

“What is it?” you ask.

“It’s for you, babe,” he says easily, smiling as Junie tucks a curl behind his ear. “It’s all for you. You can open it.”

“You sure?”

“Of course I am. Open it up.”

You take the box’s lid off, lips parting in surprise. Happy Mother’s Day has been written in white writing against a baby pink cake. It’s simple, without frills, but it’s sweet and it looks soft to the touch.

“Is it today?” you ask.

“Yeah, babe. I can’t believe you didn’t know.” Eddie shifts Junie forward to stop her from tangling his hair. “That’s a lie, I totally can. Quick, come here.”

You slot into his side, expecting the kiss, but not the second one against the apple of your cheek. “Happy Mother’s Day. I would’ve been here sooner, but I had to make sure my mom knew I was thinking about her first.” He taps your noses together before pulling away. “You’re the best mom ever, so. Me and June got you some presents. No biggie.”

“Junie got me this?”

“Who do you think wrote on the cake?”

Eddie pretends to eat Junie’s hand, to her delight. You feel the cardboard of your box between your fingers, no attempt made to hide the achingly huge smile that’s taking shape. “And the bags for me too?” you ask.

Eddie can hear it in your voice. “The bag’s for you too, of course. You're the mother.” He snarfs against Junie’s wrist. “Um-num-num.”

You drag the bag from Junie’s blue and orange high chair across the table to peek inside. It’s a flat, paper bag from a clothing store, so the contents surprise you for being much more than clothes. Your smile gets worse with each item unveiled from its tissue paper depths: a humble box of fancy chocolates, a bag of your favourite chips, a small black box and a pair of pyjamas wrapped together with a ribbon.

You hesitate with the box, hand atop it, head tilting toward your shoulder. Eddie doesn’t notice your hesitation, or at least he’s pretending not to, pretending to nibble Junie’s sleeve where she’s laughing it up in his arms.

“What’s in the box?”

He looks up quickly. Not pretending. “Oh, that’s– If you don’t like it, I can take it back. It’s nothing crazy.”

“You’re proposing.” The box is shaped for a bracelet or necklace rather than a ring.

He nods severely. “Will you do me the honour?”

You laugh softly and line your thumb to the box’s seam. It opens on a tense hinge, clicking into place.

It’s a bracelet made up of silver beads. There’s a small flat-circle charm between the beads, that, upon closer inspection, harbours two hearts, one bigger than the other.

“It’s nothing fancy, okay? So if it breaks you won’t feel bad. It’s real silver though, you don’t have to take it off much if you don’t want to. I don’t know. I think it’s, like, a reminder of her when you’re not together.” Junie whines, encouraging Eddie to press another peck to her cheek as he hugs her tighter, and takes a step closer to you. “If you don’t like it, it’s really fine.”

You slip the bracelet onto your wrist. It goes without saying you’ve never had much jewellery.

Taking his face into your hands is easy. Holding him tenderly is second nature. “Thank you,” you say, eye to eye, willing it to sink in deeply. “I love you.”

“Yeah, I love you, too. And Junie loves you more than anybody. You deserve to know that.”

“I do,” you say, glad when he puckers up for a kiss. You kiss his pouting lips misaligned to nobody’s worry, adding another for thankfulness, and a third just because. He’s smirking before you’ve so much as pulled away.

“And thank you!” you add saccharinely, stroking Junie’s cheek, though the idea that she had anything to do with your gifts is funny. “I wouldn’t get to be a mommy if it wasn’t for you. I love you.”

“Love you,” Junie says distractedly, more interested by the stud earring in Eddie’s lobe.

He gives you both a soft, soft look, startlingly yards away from his previous smirking. “You’re the best girls in the world.”

“You're the best boyfriend.” You curve an arm around him to steal him and press your face into his arm. “I love you,” you say, smushed. “Thank you so much for everything. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he says.

“I really love you.”

“Yeah,” he says, his nose touching your head as he cranes his head down to you. “It’s okay, sweetheart, I love you too. You deserve it, alright?”

Junie pats your head. “Love love love you. Kiss?”

She almost blinds you trying to kiss you in the eye as you turn your face toward her, but it’s nice.

#june baby universe #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

[spilledkaleidoscope]

Activation Energy and Executive Dysfunction

A bunch of people (with executive dysfunction I assume) reacted a little disheartened to how I described the phenomenon.

The gist is that I used activation energy, a concept from chemistry, as a model for how executive dysfunction can keep you from doing things. Activation energy is the minimal energy that has to be available for any chemical reaction to occur and that amount is specific to every reaction.

Executive Dysfunction to me means, that this activation energy is always high, even for tasks other people experience as spontaneous reaction (yes the amount of ae and spontaneity of a reaction are not connected necessarily but bear with me here). A good example is showering or feeding yourself or sometimes getting up from the couch.

The tricky thing here is that the energy put into trying to reach activation energy is still *expended*, so while it might seem like nothing happens, you still get drained, making it harder to reach activation energy levels.

So what can we do?

In synthesis, if your activation energy is too high you basically can do two things: you either add a catalyst, or you find a different way to get to your result altogether.

The latter can be choosing a simpler recipe to feed yourself, graze on random items without making a meal until you are full or ordering food for example.

This is not always possible, but it *is* worth thinking about. An example from my life would be that I open my mail outside at the trash bins and immediately discard what I don't need because otherwise, I have paperstuff flying around my appartment that I don't get rid of.

"Weird" is not something that should factor in here. Make it functional and helpful.

The catalyst is my favourite solution however, and I can give you some tips here that you can *immediately* use. I won't know if they work for you, but they do for me (sometimes! be kind to yourself).

CATALYSTS AGAINST EXECUTIVE DYSFUNCTION

Have your tasks broken down: when you have energy, make sure that the thing on your to do list is something you can *actually* physically immediately do. Don't write "make reservation", but "call restaurant" along with the number. Not "clean kitchen" but "move dishes to sink" etc

Doorway Effect: The Doorway effect describes that silly thing that, when we cross a boundary, we sometimes feel like we've been soft reset ("what was I going to do?"). A hypothesis for why this happens can be that it helps our brain create separate contexts which then aids memory creation. What it can do for you is that it is an easy way to change context, which then frees you up to start something new more easily. Try it! Physically go through a doorway or open a different window on the computer, sometimes that is enough.

Costuming: Similar to the Doorway Effect, we are changing context in a low effort way here. Concentrate on putting on your shoes instead of taking out the trash or put on some rubber gloves if you plan on cleaning. Might be enough. Sometimes putting on mascara is enough for me to go "oh I am out of couch potato mode now"

Move! Put yourself where you need to be to tackle your task. That can already help.

Pressure: This can be done by setting a timer that will go off soon. Challenge yourself to get up and go before it rings - might stress you into inaction sometimes, but it can be helpful. I love visual timers for this as it helps with my time blindness

Prepare! If you are in a state of flow and have energy to spare *use it*. This includes breaking down your task as already described but also preparing your space - this can be a cleaned up desk or a caddy with cleaning supplies in a prominent spot.

And my absolute favorite: Throw a dice. When it is really bad, one thing I can always do is throw a dice (via an app, typing "d20" into the search bar or physically having one on me - which I usually do now). I tell myself that if I "make the roll" I get up and do it and if I don't, I try again in 20 minutes. This changes context easily, removes responsibility from me and makes the whole thing playful. I usually go with a d20 and tell myself to get going with a result over 10. If I have a particularly bad day I might need 15+ to do something. Just try it.

In short, what we are trying to do is

minimize friction by frontloading as much thinking and preparing as we can

make a context change as easy and small as possible

And remember: the goal is never to Always Be Doing Something.

#ADHD talk

[heartfullofleeches]

OKG OMG CATMAN DILF PRACTICING HIS SIGNATURE OVER AND OVER FOR GOLDENRETRIEVER READER ASKIN FOR AN AUTOGRAPH- OMGOMG

Yan Ex-Idol Catman + Fan Golden Retriever Hybrid Reader

-

He's done it a million times before. This should be easy-

"Maybe it's time for me to move again."

Moving cost outweigh the humiliation. He can always find another house near a park or school. One so close to either is hard to find around these parts, but he'll manage. The neighbors, on the other hand... It'd be hard to find anyone like that sweet mutt next door.

"Shit...." The feline scratches behind his ears - molars nawing at the plastic heart glued to the pen grasped in his fist. Torn scraps of notebook paper flutter to the carpeted floor around him as he props his arms up on the table - written signatures of differing scale and quality penned on each. If he could rewind the clock a decade or so - and used a pen with better ink, he'd have done it right the first time. All he had at he desk where the glittery pens his daughter left behind during her last visit. The kind that only seemed to work every other stroke. Had he really sunk so low to blame the inability to write his own name on a cheap pen? Why was he even doing this anyway? The day he quit, he swore he'd live his life for his fans no longer. Why go through all this effort now?

"Makariy!!!"

Fingernails claw at his front door. Makariy closes the notebook, tucking it beneath the couch cushions as he climbs up into the furniture. He pauses briefly to check his shirt for stains before speaking.

"It's open."

A gust of wind scatters more pages across the living room floor as the door is ripped out. While he may have hide the book, the physical evidence was still present. He brushes a few of the notes beneath the couch as you enter - trotting up to the coffee table where you drop a fatter stack of paper.

"I brought your mail, made you some lunch, and.... Are those?....."

Kneeling, you gather up some of the pages off the floor. The accelerating wag of your tail creates a small vacuum to which the remainder are sucked into. You snatch them up as well - bouncing on your heels from all the excitement coursing through your veins.

"Are these the signatures I asked you for?" Your voice comes out in quick exhalations - barely sparing a breath between each word. "I mean I only asked you for one, but I can have these too right?! Wait, are they for other people? I'm sorry for being greedy if they are, I just didn't think you'd actually do this for me! Thank you, thank you, thank you- Sir!

Makariy jumps up out of his seat as you bow at his feet. He pulls you off your knees, dragging you up onto the couch as he hears you digging underneath for the other scraps s he hid. "Hey, hey- What did I tell you about that Sir, shit. I'm just your neighbor, got it?

"I know, Si- Makariy. It's just not everyday you mean the lead singer for your favorite idol group. Let alone have him as your neighbor. I hope the food I brought will make up for my outburst."

You have to be conscious of it by now. Even you can't be this oblivious. If you continue to look at him with those eyes there's no way he'll be able to get out of this neighborhood anytime in the near future. There's no telling when the wonder in them will fade once you realize he's nothing like he was back then... He's not sure if his heart can take it.

"You're fine. Just stay for once instead of running off when I start eating. Why do you do that anyway?"

"Just trying to respect your privacy, Sir! Ack- I did it again, and didn't I....."

Oh well... Better to enjoy things while they last.

#Makariy my oc #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere insert #yandere blurb #male yandere #yandere scenarios #yandere #yandere hybrid #yandere drabble

[pinkmirth]

⸻ 𝒢ℒ𝒰𝒯𝒯𝒪𝒩𝒪𝒰𝒮!

↶*ೃ 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓃𝒶𝓊ℊ𝒽𝓉𝓎 '𝓁𝒾𝓁 𝓃𝓎𝓂𝓅𝒽ℴ! ˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

𝒮𝒴𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮ℐ𝒮 ༉‧₊˚. it takes reiner his all to keep up with his horny little vixen of a girlfriend.

𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒯𝒜ℐ𝒩𝒮༉‧₊˚. (7.2k words of . . . ) reiner braun x fem!reader (black coded), nsfw/smut, modern college au, brat tamer!reiner, bratty!reader, feminine “girly-girl” reader, established relationship, themes of coercion, reader has a high libido, switch!reader, size kink, grinding, dry-humping, make-out session, f!masturbation, panty ripping, spanking (only once), finger-sucking, fingering, oral (m!receiving), deepthroating, floor sex, mating press, reiner being a tiny bit aggressive (but affectionately!!!), soft dom!reiner, use of pet names (honey, love, baby, darling), explicit language, minors shoo!

ℐ𝒩𝒮𝒫𝒪 𝒯ℛ𝒜𝒞𝒦 — loveeeeeee song; rihanna, future

𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁ℯ 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ 𝓁ℯ𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇 . . . this is extremely self indulgent!!! all i want is for reiner to put me in my place and tell me what to do >< a girl can dream! ♡︎

It’s 12:06 AM. The clock ticks and Reiner sighs.

He incessantly shifts in his desk chair, being held in the confines of his quaint home office. Reiner glares at the laptop before him with great disinterest. The screen casts a dull lighting over his sharp features. 

If there were anything capable of completing this damned project for him, he wouldn’t be so high-strung. He sucks in air through his teeth before letting out a weary exhale. 

All it takes is the sudden clicking of a doorknob to tear him away from his thoughts. 

He turns to be met with the sight of you emerging from your room, pedicured feet carrying you across the carpeted floors of your shared apartment. He pulls away from the MacBook’s screen, chair creaking under his weight as he swivels around to face you.

Reiner can’t help himself from hungrily examining your scanty attire— adorned in a smooth, silken nightdress. The soft pink gown you wear has the thinnest straps, and the most revealing design. It’s noticeably short, with the laced hem stopping precisely at your upper thigh, neckline dipping real low. Your supple skin and bouncy cleavage lay bare to your boyfriend’s piercing eyes. 

A faint smell of sugar is detected in the air. Reiner indulges in the familiar saccharine scent of your favorite perfume as you approach him. You rotate his chair to completely face you, assertively dropping onto his lap. Amused, he allows your hands to rub along his broad shoulders. Lowering your lips to the shell of his ear, you whisper. “Hi, Rei.” 

His strong arms envelop your waist as an instant reaction. Reiner can feel his tensive mood lessen under your sparing touch. The warmth of your presence filters into his senses as you lazily circle your arms around him.

Reiner makes sure to greet you with a soft peck, as always. He briefly licks his lips after. You taste of strawberry gloss. “My love,” He responds, words gentle and doting when he calls out to you. He puts on a small smile, but it’s all too easy to detect the gravelly detail of exhaustion in his deep voice.

“You tired, hm? My poor baby,” you softly murmur, hands running through his sandy blonde hair and tousling it between your fingers. He releases a content hum as your nails stroke his scalp. “I’m fine, ‘hon.” Reiner insists, “I just… wish I could take my mind off this.” 

You peer down at him through wispy lashes. “Do you need a distraction?” arousal produces a sweet drawl in your words. Your lips curl up to form the sultriest of smiles. He can read your indecent intentions with little effort.

Your touch runs down his body, ruffling over the olive green sweatshirt he has on. It’s a shame, how the fabric conceals his sculpted muscles. Your hand trails along his deliciously firm biceps while the other settles on his broad chest. He finds comfort in the way your filed nails repetitively graze against his collarbone. 

How cunning you are, trying to coax and flatter him into bed! Especially when you know just how hard it is for him to refuse you. Reiner searches for a suitable answer. Admittedly, he'd much rather allow you to whisk him away, despite his responsibilities that condemn the thought. 

“Don’t tell me you’re preoccupied…” You make a glossy pout, since it always works in breaking him. Though, he seems to have worn a thicker armor of refrain tonight. One that isn’t as flexible to your vixenish schemes and bratty tendencies. 

“You know I am, love.” Reiner sighs. He wants more than anything to please you. It’s all he ever does and the only thing he yearns to do. But there comes a time where he has to put his foot down. 

“I’m busy,” he emphasizes. It sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself instead of you. Sure, he’s occupied, but that shouldn’t matter. He can tell that you need him, can’t he? Badly, too. Your boyfriend should know that resisting you is futile.

You deftly roll your eyes before he brings his palm to warmly cup your soft cheek. “You get that, right honey?” He wants you to look him in the face and understand the words coming out of his mouth. No use in that— You’re probably only thinking of all the ways he could be using it to eat you out. 

“Reiner, baby… c’mon.” You shift your weight onto his lap, slow-grinding with the most subtle rock of your hips. He knows you to be unpredictable, and he’s fond of it; you keep him on his toes. But this? It’s sly and abrupt, enough to make his breath catch in his throat. His low grunt spills into your ear as he instinctively bucks upward.

Reiner should be used to your teasing by now, especially considering that he’s been your boyfriend of well-over two years. Yet, the apples of his cheeks bloom a faint red as if the way you move atop his body is a foreign feeling. You giggle when he averts his hazel eyes and looks fixedly elsewhere. 

Again, you roll in slow circles to friction against him, and he unsteadily whimpers your name. “You’re so hard,” you tease him with a dulcet laugh. Reiner furrows his thin brows, flustered. He can feel his blood rushedly streaming south. 

“I make you that excited?” Look at you, asking as if you don’t know the answer. Reiner wants to scoff. You know good and well of the dire effect you have on your man. 

He gives in, just for a moment, to grasp at your waist with newfound fervor, holding you down and guiding your body with sturdy hands. He directs the way your hips gyrate, dragging you over his erection. Your breath hitches, clinging at his broad shoulders.

“Fuck. You know what you do to me,” He breathes out, slightly tossing his head back onto the headrest. You take the opportunity to close in on his exposed neck. He smells rich and earthy, like that of sandalwood. Reiner basks in the eagerness of your messy kisses, gloss and saliva lingering on the column of his throat. 

“Come to the room, Reiner.” You murmur against his jugular, nipping until the taste of his skin settles upon the tip of your tongue. The seat creaks when the both of you shift and adjust yourselves, grinding into each other with bated breath. You lift your head to stare into his darkened gaze, making another effort to persuade him. “I know you want to.”

Boldly tilting forward, you initiate a daring kiss. Your lips sweetly move against Reiner’s, but there’s an unabashed fire upon your tongue as it darts into his mouth. You openly moan against his lips, and the enticing sound of your voice gets him harder. Reiner digs his fingers into your waist, eyes screwed shut. Groans tumble deep from his throat in the form of lowly ‘oh’s, and the bristly facial hair on his jaw prickles your skin. 

Reiner only now begins to register how your breasts squish against him, nipples rigid from under your nightgown and brushing at his chest. The warm press of your cunt rests atop his growing hard-on. He’d try to maintain the grain of resolve he has left, but with his cock prodding at your underside, it’s evident that he’s too far gone. You can feel him twitching beneath the soft cotton of your thin panties.

“I— shit, want you so bad…” his words tremble. See what you’ve done! Now he’s all wired up. You can tell by the way he holds your sides with an edgy grip. He pulls you in tighter, wants you immeasurably closer. Reiner can feel your heartbeat vigorously pumping in tandem with his. 

“Then fuck me.” you spur him on, dipping your head to connect with him once more. Tensions inflame between you as the kiss builds. Reiner tries to still the fleeting jerk of his hips, using everything in his power to resist your sugary lips and break away. He opens his mouth to respond, only to make a hesitant pause. Whatever he’s about to say, you know he doesn’t fucking mean it. The way his boner’s nudging at the plush of your ass says otherwise. 

“Can’t, baby.” He finalizes. You huff, grabbing his sleeves and tugging at the cloth. “You don’t want to?” Your lips look plump and sore, prettily bruised from obscene kisses.

“I never said that…” He lowly whines against your lips, dropping his head to rest along the junction of your neck. Of course he wants to. He’d much rather make you cum like it’s all he’s good for instead of wasting another moment at this damned desk. 

He then recalls the countless times he’s supplied your every desire without question. It brings him to realize that he truly has spoiled you, his sweet girl, nastily rotten. Though Reiner loves to provide for you in any way he can, he chooses to exercise discipline today. He thinks this’ll teach you some sort of lesson concerning patience and self-control. As if. Realistically, he’s merely punishing himself by desisting pleasure. 

You give him another fluid roll of your hips, but he stills you with an iron grip. His resolve’s firmer than it was mere minutes ago. “Hey.” Reiner shoots you a pleading look, but you know that it’s more of a warning. His soft dominance comes in the form of a heavy quiet, one which shows itself every so often. Particularly when you go out of your way to tip him over the brink. 

He’s made it clear that he won’t budge. You make an attempt to distance yourself, retracting your arms from around his neck to cross them over your chest, boobs pushing up with the motion. He pulls you back into his chest, to which you respond with a vexed ‘hmph’, subtly scrunching your face. Just how much could you possibly turn him on in one sitting alone? You’ll be the end of him, he’s sure of it.

Reiner softens his expression, rubbing at your sides. “Hey— look at me.” reluctantly, your eyes meet his. He just can’t seem to tug away from your heavy-lidded gaze. “Tell you what, darlin’,” he announces, offering you a compromise. “Once I finish this up, I’m yours for the rest of the night. M’kay?” 

You don’t like the terms of his little deal. It’s selfish, and you know it is, but you want him now. 

“Hm.” With a hum, you tap your fingers along his shoulder, barely agreeing. “No harm in waiting, yeah?” 

To that, you exaggeratedly sigh. ‘You’ll be fine, you big baby.’ Reiner thinks. 

You eventually release him, pressing a kiss to his scruffy jaw. He’s quick to return it, skimming his lips across yours in a chaste peck. He can feel your sensual grin spread against his mouth before you break away, like you’ve got a naughty little plan that he's yet to know about.

You descend off his lap, peering at his obvious boner with a silent giggle. Is he even sure he’d be able to wait a moment longer before sleeping with you? ‘Cause it looks like his pants have become much too tight. You’ve truly made a mess out of him.

Before stepping back to the room you appeared from, you send him a look with those alluring eyes of yours. There’s a glint of mischief; something tantalizing that lies within your irises.

“Don’t worry, Rei.” You call out to him in your pretty, tempting voice. With lithe fingers, you lift the ends of your short sleeping dress to reveal the tiny panties that lie beneath, giving him just a snippet of what he’d be missing. 

Reiner’s glance catches onto the lips of your pussy, hidden behind cloth. He bets it’s fucking soaked. Just as he thought, there’s a puddle of slick wetting the cotton material. His need for you begins to show itself all over again. You can see it in the way his Adam's apple bobs. 

All you do is smile at his reaction. “I’ll just help myself.” 

It's been a good chunk of time, about fifteen minutes since you disappeared into your room. You most certainly meant what you said about ‘helping yourself’…

“Oh—!” Moans spill into the corridor. And fuck, is it loud. You didn’t close the door to your room, and for good reason. You want him to catch wind of every little thing you’re doing without him. 

Reiner tries to keep his focus aimed at the computer screen, but he just can’t. Especially not under such conditions. He’s already sporting a raging hard-on, which he meekly brings a hand down to rub out every now and again. That isn’t even the biggest problem— there’s you, located a few doors down, intentionally making as much noise as you can. 

Reiner prods his tongue at his inner cheek. He knows exactly what’s going on. If you can’t have his attention, then that stupid fucking project of his wouldn’t be getting it either. 

“Mm, fuck!” Another cry of ecstasy reaches his ears, and his blush-tinged cheeks continue to burn even further. The harsh squelch emitting from the room tells him all he wants to know; you're plunging your fingers into your wet little pussy as deep as you can get it to go, but it’ll never be able to stretch you out as well as his thick digits. 

‘That fucking wet, huh?’  Reiner muses. His desire to be there with you is stronger than his will to breathe. The throb of his cock feels like it’s pounding heavier than the beat of his very own heart.

Funnily enough, he thought that you’d hardly be able to carry on without him there; now you’re the one enjoying yourself while he suffers in horny solitude. In all honesty, Reiner’s just barely holding out, and his resolve has thinned down to the mere size of a thread. He hadn’t considered the fact that you’re his weakness. 

Nine times out of ten, Reiner’s a man of his word. He sticks to what he says and hardly ever diverts from it. But at this moment, you’re giving him no choice. The only options you’ve proposed are for him to comply, or endure torture. It truly is complete and utter torture, to hear you getting yourself off when he could’ve been the one stripping you down and making you scream. 

 He wants to give himself a slap in the face for denying you— if not for him, you probably would’ve been cumming on his face right now, or bouncing on his cock in the way that he liked. Hell, he might’ve even gone about punishing you for teasing him on this very chair. 

Maybe he should’ve just come to the fucking room.

“Makin’ a scene, huh?” Reiner mumbles, palming his clothed dick. “Well, it worked.”

Your voice continues to ring aloud in the atmosphere. He’s physically incapable of ignoring the problem that lies beneath his pants. To be specific, the problem that you created, and he’s sure you’ll be eager to help him fix it. 

Reiner peers at the time before pushing his laptop closed and neglecting his assignment. It’s 12:49 AM when he finally decides to give in to you. He rises from his seat to follow the luring string of moans. 

He’s near. You can hear it, feel it. Every dull footstep means he’s closing in, aching to fuck you. Reiner’s giving up early on, and it’s much quicker than you thought he would. But you certainly don’t mind. You swipe your clit and tremble with anticipation, awaiting his presence.

You lie on your back, splayed across cream white bamboo sheets of the king-sized bed that you and him share. You wait not-so-patiently for him to enter and be met with the sight of your manicured fingers toying around inside your pussy.

It didn’t take long for you to get what you wanted. Reiner comes strolling in, leaning his bulky frame against the doorway. His chest heaves slowly. There’s yearning behind every deep breath he takes. He’s hot and bothered; it shows with the blooming pink tint of arousal that’s spread across his cheekbones and nose bridge. 

You’re all on display, from the roundness of your breasts beneath your skimpy nightgown as your chest rises and falls, to the clenching wetness of your cunt, panties pulled aside for access. There’s not a thing left to his dirty imagination.

Your eyes trail down to meet the suggestive bulge that strains against his baggy gray sweats. It’s definitely grown since before. Reiner looks borderline feral, ready to pounce and eat you alive. But he plainly stands, drinking in the view of your sightly body with glowering eyes. You wonder when he’ll finally jump in for a taste.

“Aw,” You breathily coo at him, sitting up on your elbows. He watches your tits sway with the motion. “You just couldn’t stay away, could you?” your light and mocking tone makes his dick twitch. 

“Looks like you’re havin’ fun…” Reiner mutters. It’s almost cute, how wound up he is. “Would be better if you joined in.” you suggest. “Are you gonna help me out while you’re here? Or did you only come to watch?” Still running your mouth, huh... You really do know how to push him to the edge. 

“C’mere.” Reiner beckons you towards him with the gesturing movement of his finger. His voice is low and domineering, it makes you want to listen. So you do, lifting yourself off the bed and doing just as he wishes. 

It seems that Reiner’s forgotten of all his good-boy behavior, and his sense of responsibility’s flown out the window. He’s quick to smash his mouth to yours, resuming the fervid kiss from before. He cradles the back of your head and pushes you deeper into the warmth of his lips. Bringing his unoccupied arm to loop around your waist, he tugs you in. 

You melt into his large and imposing frame, grabbing at his shirt within your fisted hands. “Reiner,” you separate from his enthusiasm, needing a gulp of air. Thin slivers of spit connect him to your sheen lips. 

“Heard you tryin’ to fuck yourself while I was gone,” Reiner whispers, hands snaking down to your butt. He shamelessly grabs your doughy ass in his rough hands, kneading the fatty flesh before giving it a nice, hard spank. You moan upon contact. He’s entirely sure you throbbed over that. 

“It wasn't enough, was it baby?” He shakes his head and you mindlessly mimic him, doing the same. “I’m here now. ‘Lemme satisfy you,” he plants a brief kiss at the surface of your neck before laying you down upon the wooly surface of the floor’s rug, kneeling to slot himself between your legs.

He brings his hand to your face, thumb resting at your plush bottom lip. You instantly know what to do, encasing his fingers into your mouth. “Bein’ such a good girl,” he praises, pushing down on your tongue with the pads of his fingers. You lick at his digits with a soft moan, lapping them in saliva as you grip onto his wrist. 

His middle and forefinger leaves your mouth with a wet pop. Reiner’s hands find their place at your sides, caressing the curvature of your hips. He hooks his pointer finger into your panties, pulling them further aside; just before he determines that you won't be needing them. And with that, Reiner’s abruptly tearing them off, ripping the cloth with the ease of one effortless tug. The fabric feathers apart against your skin. 

You can’t help but laugh in total shock, the ruined cloth tickling your hips. “Reiner!” All he does is a shrug, slipping the remains of your panties out from under your ass and tossing them elsewhere. “They were gettin’ in the way.” he clarifies. The pads of his fingers can now properly trace your slick pussy lips, and he drags his touch just above your engorged clit. 

You mewl when he strokes the nub in tight circles, jerking underneath his touch. Reiner can tell that you’re especially sensitive. With raised brows, he asks, “You already came?” He's given your immediate nod in reply. Reiner brings a hand to his heart, feigning offense. “Without me, baby?”

“Why’re you surprised? Told you I’d handle myself,” you say all matter-of-factly, gazing up at him from where you lay. He dryly chuckles, almost taken aback. “And I told you that I would be here soon, didn’t I?” he queries. You suppress a shudder whenever he makes contact with your over-stimmed bud. 

Patience is a virtue that you haven't yet learned. Reiner would normally take it slow and savor your taste, but all he has in mind is to teach you a valuable lesson– when he tells you to wait for him, you wait. 

Or, you just can deal with the outcome of defying him. That seems all the more fitting for a minx like you.

“Guess that means you’re gonna have to come again,” He decides, “Give me another.” To that, you whine. “But Rei! I already stretched myself out for you!” 

“With your fingers?” you nod when he asks you. “Hm. Not enough.” aiming to convince him otherwise, you spread your legs wider apart and reveal your gaping hole to his sharp stare. 

You drip with glassy cum, and he wants nothing more than to dive in face first, completely ravage all of your beautiful being, and eat away at that attitude of yours until you forget your own fucking name. Somehow, he finds a way to ground himself and stay on course. You can see it's a struggle for him to do so. He’d already be whipping his dick out if he wasn't trying to discipline you. 

“Doesn’t matter. You’re gonna take what I give you. Right, baby?” he hums in question, rolling his lengthy sleeves up to his elbows. Your eyes trail along the expanse of his thick forearms. Taking your nod as a green light, Reiner delves three large fingers into you and sets a dangerous pace. His starting thrusts are fast and fluid. “Fuck, Reiner!” you cry out, clawing at his wrist. 

“Uh-uh,” He tuts, bringing his hand up to your face to playfully squeeze your cheeks. Your lips jut out cutely, and he grins. “I ain't stopping until you come.” He makes himself clear. “Understand?” 

“Mhm– u-understood.” you shakily comply, voice muffled. He releases your face, momentarily dipping low to peck your lips. “Good. That’s good.” He continues plunging into your core, every thrust bringing about a lewd squelch. “So sorry I held out on you, baby…” Reiner mumbles. “M’gonna make it up to you, okay?” The way he’s stroking your insides is the best apology you could think of. 

Reiner knows just how to work your body, almost too well. With swift motions, he skillfully curls his fingers up, nudging into an area that makes you writhe. “Found it,” he unconsciously whispers. 

After locating your sweet spot, he doesn’t relent. His flicking wrist allows him to push in faster, and the repetitive prodding of his thick digits gets you shaking. Your breath comes out in disarrayed puffs as you clamp down on his digits, hard, to the point where he can hardly move. It’s like a plea for him to remain inside. 

“— So fuckin’ tight…” he curses, teeth grit. “Just relax, baby.” Reiner calms you with his low tone, despite being knuckle-deep as your pussy draws him in. He struggles against your tight pink walls to pull out. Your stretched hole pulses around an empty nothingness where his fingers once were. You’re throbbing so much for him; the sight could almost make him cum in his pants. 

Reiner drags his touch down your gaping slit, gathering your wetness and smearing it over your puffy bud. He takes pleasure in the way your eyes roll back. You jerk underneath the pressure he applies, legs closing in and trapping his hand between them. 

“Keep ‘em open.” He exerts the slightest bit of strength to pry you apart by the thighs, proceeding with his attack on your clit. He notices the way you convulse, like you’re bound to crumble apart at any given moment. “R-Reiner,” you brokenly wail. “M’gonna—!” You aren’t in the right mind to speak. Just as he said earlier on, all you can do is take what he gives you.

“I know, baby.” He rubs you out with drenched fingers, “Want you to make a fuckin’ mess for me. C’mon.” and with that, plus a final of quick strokes at your bundle of nerves, Reiner prompts your disorienting climax. Your long nails dig into the flesh of his forearm, vision spotted white. Your orgasm’s powerful and he rides you through every lasting second of it. 

“That’s it… you did so good, baby.” he mutters, pouring sweet nothing into your ear like you can even register what he’s saying. You don’t even notice the drool slipping past the corner of your own lips, or the tears pricking your eyes. All with the work of his calloused fingers, he’s thoroughly ruined you. Thing is, he isn’t even halfway done.

Reiner leans down and scatters the lightest of butterfly kisses across your cheek, your neck, your shoulder; anywhere he can reach. He calls out to you by your name, trying to reel you back into consciousness with a pinch on your side. You squirm, and he airily chuckles. “There she is.”

You regain yourself, maneuvering up to rest on your knees. “Rei,” you sit before Reiner, mirroring him. Your delicate touch reaches for his crotch. His cock jumps when you grip him through his sweats. You speak soft and hushedly, the form of a weary whisper, “I want all of you.” 

Despite being completely spent, you swear that you’re ready for more. Reiner doubts that you are. But you’ve begged him for so long, he might as well deliver.

“I was gonna get to that,” he habitually tilts his head to the left, grabbing onto the hem of his sweatshirt. “but you just can’t wait, can you?” The olive-green top is pulled off, thrown into an obscure corner of the room. Right after, he begins to make quick work of his pants until they’re strewn away, dirtying the floor with his small heap of clothes.

Reiner grabs at the band of his briefs, about to rid himself of the final obstacle— until your hand skims over his. “Let me,” you say, breathless. With a brisk nod, he allows you. It’s intimate, how you strip him, with your hand resting at his shoulder while the other tugs down his waistband, eyes locking onto him throughout it all. Reiner lifts his hips, giving you access to peel away the underwear. You slide it past his thick, firm thighs until he’s kicking them off his ankles.

He feels your eyes trained on him, burning into his warm ivory skin. You run your gaze across the broad expanse of his athletic body, scrutinizing the subtle flexure of his muscles, from his pecs to his toned stomach. Aiming your stare downwards leads you straight to the obscene sight of his girthy dick, hanging between his legs and seizing all your attention. It lewdly bobs under its own weight, reddened tip gleaming with a sheen coat of precum. His balls hang beneath, heavy and throbbing. 

“So big,” you haphazardly mumble. His face goes flush when you reach forward, encircling your dainty hand around the shaft and watching him twitch in your hold. You can’t even wrap it all the way around. “Shit,” Reiner swears. You giggle over the way his hips jolt. 

Considering how eager you’ve been, Reiner hadn’t been expecting you to bring your head down to level, enveloping his pinkish tip into your pliant mouth. He never would’ve thought that you’d have time to swallow his dick. Though, he can’t complain, not with how well you suckle on his cockhead and stroke the rest, smearing him in your spit. 

With a hand resting at the back of your head, Reiner begins to propel his hips forward, slowly bucking into your mouth. He loves how your lips stretch around the width of his cock, adoring the way you elicit gags when being pushed down little by little until you reach his base. Your tongue swipes along a protruding vein, wracking a shudder through him.

It’s when you moan around his shaft and look up at him with those glimmering eyes that he knows he’ll end up spouting cum all over your tongue if this goes on. Reiner can’t take much more of this. He needs you to encompass him, wrap around him, suck him in… he has to feel you. At least before he loses his mind over the wait.

He guides you off, releasing himself from the wet suction of your lips. “I have to fuck you,” Reiner heaves desperately, “Now.” He flips up the satiny material of your sleeping gown and hastily tosses it over your head, making sure to smooth down your hair after. Once again, he expertly maneuvers you onto your back. 

Your hands lie beside your head, the shaggy carpet brushing softly against your shoulder blades. Reiner scoots in close, lifting your legs up and hitching them up on his wide shoulders. He rubs along your calves before directing his touch downwards to meet your core. 

With a gentle stroke down your slit and light brushes against your folds, he’s thumbing you open. You’re slick and clenching, just for him. “Such a pretty little pussy,” he sounds awestruck, like he wasn’t just stuffing you with his middle, ring and pointer only minutes ago. 

Reiner takes hold of his cock, circling around the tip with a sigh. He generously pumps himself before lining up with you, tapping at your clit just to mess with you a little. That brings about the restless wiggle of your hips. 

“Ugh, Reiner!” you whine. He always likes to play the tease, even when the situation doesn’t permit him to. With your legs still placed up where he put them, you sway and kick your feet around, movement rapid above his head. “Put it in already—!”

“I will.” Reiner smacks his teeth. He’d usually ask nicely for you to behave. This time, he’ll make you. He holds you still, done easily with a simple grip on your ankle. It’s painless, but firm enough to get you to straighten up. “So fuckin’ needy.”

Reiner grabs onto your legs and pushes them back, until your painted toes dangle above your own head. “It’ll go deeper this way.” Reiner assures. He keeps you there, palms pressing into the bottom of your thighs to pin you against yourself. “You can take it like this, yeah? All folded up for me?” 

“I can take it, Rei. I promise,” is your eager response. He flashes a seductive smile. “Oh, darlin’… I know you can.”  Reiner hovers over you, positioning himself in a way that makes his cockhead bump into your pearly nub. He squats low and leans forward, to the point where he’s resting his weight onto you. It’s suffocating in the best way imaginable. You savor every moment of his body compressing yours.

At long last, Reiner gives what you’ve begged him for since midnight. With one smooth thrust forward, he’s plunged himself into your weeping pussy. It forces the air out of your lungs. “Oh— fuck,” you breathe out so lightly, Reiner can hardly hear it. He pushes his cock in further, groaning as he does so. You accommodate him and adapt to the gradual stretch.

Your tight cunt envelops him, clenching around every inch that he has to offer. You gaze up at Reiner with the prettiest set of lust-blown eyes. He pulls back before pressing forward, until his weighty balls are nestled at the hilt. He peers down to where you connect, attentively watching how you swallow him in. 

“It’s deep, baby?” Reiner damn well knows that he’s pushing at your cervix and resting in your guts. He just wants to get a kick out of your answer. “So deep.” You gasp. Shiny tears are brimming at your eyes again. He follows a pattern of drawing out, only partially, just to slam back in. Your body lurches with every knock of his sturdy hips. 

Before long, Reiner’s created a steady, pleasurable rhythm. His pelvis claps into yours and grinds at your clit, all as he delves his girth into the wet cavern of your sopping pussy. You cry out for him every single time. “R-Rei!” you stammer when he fucks into you with such zeal. He’s only just begun, and you’re already on the verge of sobbing. “Harder,” You plead. 

And so, he listens. Reiner swiftly rocks into your warmth, flooding with arousal. His motions come on heavier as he puts his weight behind his rapid thrusts. “You want it all the goddamn time,” he grunts, jaw clenched. “Am I that good, baby? Can't get enough of me?”

“S— so good to me!” you mewl, bottom lip trapped under your teeth. You grab for him in hopes of reaching whatever you can, until your hands meet his tensed biceps. The ends of your nails skim his muscles, and he lets out a low hiss. 

An especially rough thrust tugs a cry out of you. “Reiner, please!” You find yourself begging, unsure of what. All you know is that it’s too much for you to handle. His unrelenting pace has you struggling for the slightest granule of air you can muster to breathe in. 

You scramble to push at Reiner’s abdomen, a measly attempt at slowing him down. He doesn’t give at all— you're only inducing him to go faster. “Uh-uh, baby. None of that,” deep-reaching thrusts punctuating his every word, “Thought you promised that y’could take me… Was that a lie?” he snarks. 

“No, I— fuck!” it’s brutal, the way his dick slides in and nudges against your womb. You writhe underneath him, but the weight of his bulky body holds you down. “Don’t you dare fuckin’ run from me. You’ve been begging for it all night,” Reiner warningly seethes. “So take it.”

He fucks you with reckless abandon, working his way in and out of your slippery pussy. By the end of this, he wants you molded into the very shape of him, to have his fat cock leave an imprint on your walls. There’s a mess of dripping slick that soils your inner thighs and runs down his slapping balls.

Reiner takes just a second or two to simply relish in the moment, basking in how tight you’re squeezing him. He takes a mental picture, storing the detailed intimacy of this scenario into a back pocket of his mind. Reiner studies the way you prettily lie beneath him, lips agape. Your tits bounce in tandem with his every move. 

“You’re gorgeous, baby.” he lets out a soft groan. “You look so fuckin’ pretty like this.” Reiner’s face is mere inches apart from yours, and the short proximity allows you to appreciate his chiseled features. Strong jaw, well-defined nose, and neat stubble; not to mention the most striking set of golden eyes. Effortlessly charming. He could make your panties drop if they hadn’t been torn off already.

Your arms wire around his neck, holding on for dear life. “Reiner, I—” he rams into you, and you almost choke on his name. The words clog in your throat as you manage out a drowsy request.  “Want more of you! Please,” 

More, you say? Like you could remotely handle anything greater than what he’s giving you now? That’s fine. He'll simply make sure to fulfill your needs until your cup overflows. 

He dips low until the defined arch of his nose is brushing past yours, fucking you rough on the fluffy carpet with a higher vigor. It’s like he’s finally snapped. “Fuckin’ greedy,” Reiner snarls against your ear, his stubble grazing your cheek, “Wanted it so bad that y’couldnt wait, huh? Got me fucking you on the ground like a goddamn animal.”

Reiner’s cutting words make you pulse. He’s never done you this hard before. There’s a noticeable change in the way he’s handling you. He’d usually be unhurried and careful, paired with the mutter of encouraging words against the shell of your ear. In all honesty, you like this for a change. After this round’s over, you’ll make an effort to piss him off more often.

“Reinerrr,” You whimper aloud, drawing it out through a stretched moan. His balls jump over your droned call of his name. If you keep it up, he might just wind up coming inside without a second thought.

You clamp down on his vein-littered cock with increased urgency. “You’re close, aren’t you?” Reiner questions, quickening his tempo. He wants you to unravel. “Mm-hm!” you pant. Your impending climax is coming along again. You can feel it, that tense buildup that lies deep in your trembling pelvis. Reiner urges your release. “Let go for me, baby.”

He bites down on your shoulder when you drag your nails down his firm back. “Come all over my fuckin’ cock.” he rambles dirty lines onto your sweat-coated skin, reaching down between you to give your puffed clit a brisk swipe or two.

That's enough to get you to undo. You’re rapidly fluttering around him, head tossed back. He's there to hold onto you, searing his touch into your skin as you fall completely apart in his safe grasp. You tremor for him, orgasmic waves coursing up your spine. Reiner carries on with his unruly thrusts, meeting you in a brash kiss.

You gasp against his mouth, breathing him in. Reiner surrounds you from every possible angle; around you, pecking your lips and rubbing your waist… more especially inside you, whisking at your spent walls with his thick cock. It’s all so much. “Fuck, I can’t, Rei… no more,” you shake beneath his heavyset figure.

“Just hold on for me, baby,” he pleads in a lowly whimper. The over-stim has your feet jerking above your head. “Lemme use your pussy for a little longer. Is that alright? Hm?” his consistent pounding makes you go fucking brain-dead. That’s probably why you don’t catch a single word of his. The only perceivable sound is the dense clap of his skin as it collides with yours.

Reiner’s thin brows draw together, his mouth drops open, and the underside of his dick spasms. That’s how you know he’s soon to topple over the edge. “I’m so close,” he releases a guttural whine, pattern growing sloppier. There’s a burning ache in his thighs, but he doesn’t care to stop. He’ll chase that high until the both of you soak this carpet in cum. 

The tremble of your form underneath his, your breathy moans entering his ear, the dull scrape of your nails down his back; it’s all part of what urges his release. Reiner’s grip on your side is taut when he comes. “Fuuck,” he swears, moaning the loudest he has all night. 

You gladly welcome the loads of pearly cum that he drains into you. It warmly spills out, dripping past your labia and down to your asscheeks. Reiner’s drenched, too. It’s made a mess of his twitching shaft, pelvis, and sac. 

Reiner huffs, sitting up to rest on his knees. He’s yet to recover. “That was… damn.” His chest heaves. Intense, he means. That’s the word closest to accuracy that you could use to describe the burst of passion between you and him. Reiner comes back down to earth, unthinkingly caressing your thighs. He loosens his hold on your midriff, managing to catch his breath. 

You look up at him with admiration swirling in your dilated eyes. “You good, baby?” Reiner directs his attention your way, and you acknowledge him with a hum. “I didn’t go too hard, did I?” Him and his slew of questions. You don’t mind it, since he means well. His thoughtful nature warms your heart.

“It was perfect, I came twice and everything. Now c’mere!” As always, these kinds of sessions end with you outstretching your hands, gesturing him closer so that he can cradle you in his arms. Gently, Reiner lowers down until he rests atop your bare figure, leaning his weight onto you with the utmost caution.

“I’ll clean you up after this, honey.” he mumbles, cheek pressed against your boobs. “I know you will,” you expect him to. He’s made taking care of you a habit. 

You stare into the distance and feel the cool blow of the ceiling fan, carding a hand through the short tresses of his blonde hair. His forehead’s exposed and sheen with sweat. You inhale his scent (now merged with the smell of sex), and rub your palms over his thickset muscles, just appreciating his being. Silence engulfs you both.

Moments later, you break the quiet atmosphere with a faint laugh. Reiner perks his head up. “What is it?” 

“You were rougher than normal,” you observe. He lifts a brow. “And that’s funny? Thought you liked it.” 

“I did!” you’re quick to reassure him. “I just didn’t know you had it in you, baby. That’s all,” you wrap your arms around his back, using your tender touch to soothe the red-lined scratches from earlier. “Well, you brought it out of me… brat.” the last part is said under his breath. You catch on anyway.

That brings about your incredulous gasp, like you don’t already know that yourself. “Me? A brat?” you light-heartedly challenge the truth of his words. “Oh, very much so. But I love you anyway.” Reiner scoots up to kiss you, his softened cock skimming your thigh. 

“Aren't you glad I interrupted you? You should be,” you claim. Although drowsy, he lets out a buoyant laugh, one that rumbles in his chest. He’d never hear the end of you reciting ‘I was right!’ if he were to confess, but he is grateful you distracted him. You were the one to initiate, but he came to realize that he needed it too. 

Reiner would say tonight helped him realize that you never fail to get what you want, but he already knew that. 

In truth, one thing was clarified for him— dick is the only effective form of correction that works on his pretty little vixen of a girlfriend.

TAGS ༉‧₊˚. @hellavile @indiecursor @nneedynymph @deemanaa @photosbyameil @venusflytrapstar @fkatwigsisthenextkatebush @ctrllovre @aiyaaayei @hoohoohope @minniecums @turdettethefirst ♡︎

#love me some reiner 🫶🏾 #— harmoni writes #— (.reiner) #reiner smut #reiner braun smut #reiner x black reader #reiner x black reader smut #reiner x black!reader #reiner x black!reader smut #reiner fanfic #reiner x you #reiner x reader smut #aot smut #snk smut #reiner braun x black!reader #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun x black reader #reiner aot #reiner aot smut #Reiner Braun #୨୧ — isla writes #୨୧ — mira writes! #౨ৎ — 𝓂𝓎 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ 𝓈𝓉ℴ𝓇𝒾ℯ𝓈!

[thewulf]

Loving You is Easy || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - What about a jake seresin x reader. Of course jake has a reputation but he truly is in love with bartender reader, so finally he wears her down to a date. They go to a nice restaurant and reader still has has her gates up but she’s slowly realizing who Jake truly is WHEN not one but two of the girls jake hooked up... Read Rest Here

A/N: Another one for my fav cocky pilot. Hope you guys enjoy :)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.2k +

T/W : None just fluff

The clink of glasses and the low hum of the late-night chatter fills the air at The Hard Deck, a place that's become your nightly retreat amidst the demands of school and work. As you finish up your shift behind the bar, wiping down surfaces and stacking glasses, you're acutely aware of Jake Seresin's presence. He's become a regular when you worked. His charm was well-known and his flirtations a constant undercurrent whenever he's around.

"Another evening of mixing drinks and dodging offers, Y/N?" Jake teases while watching you with an amused smirk as he plays with his empty glass sitting in front of him.

Playfully, you roll your eyes at the man who had become a constant in your life. "Just counting down to graduation," you reply. Keeping your tone light even as you avoid meeting his gaze too directly. You've heard stories about Jake, enough to keep a polite distance.

"How about celebrating a bit early? Let me take you out. A real date, not just bar banter that I know you love so much," he proposes while leaning over the bar slightly trying to catch your eye.

You hesitate but you had your response ready. "Jake, I really don't think mixing work with... whatever this is... would be a good idea."

"Just dinner," he presses. But his tone was sincere. "No expectations, no strings. Just two people enjoying good food. Come on, what do you say darling?"

Despite your reservations there's a part of you that's curious. The persistent part that wonders if there might be more to Jake than the rumors and his reputation. After a moment of internal debate, you find yourself nodding, slightly surprised by your own decision.

"Okay, one dinner. Only If it’ll get you to shut up about it" you say with a small smirk adorning your face finally meeting his gaze. "But, Jake, it's just dinner. That's it."

His face lights up with that well-known charming smile. "Just dinner," he agrees while raising his hands in a mock surrender. "You won't regret it."

As he leaves you can't help but feel a mix of anticipation and apprehension. You've maintained your boundaries yet you're stepping into new territory. It's just dinner you have to remind yourself. But as you turn the sign to 'closed' and lock up for the night you can't shake the feeling that it might just be the start of something unexpected. But you tried not to get your hopes up. It’s just dinner.

You step into the upscale restaurant. The ambiance immediately wraps around you. It’s intimate and inviting with its dim lighting and soft music playing in the background. Jake stands from a secluded table as soon as he sees you his smile bright and welcoming. "You look absolutely beautiful," he says sincerely before pulling out your chair and taking his own seat.

"Thank you," you reply feeling a faint flutter of excitement mixed with nervous anticipation. The effort you put into choosing your outfit seems to have paid off and his notice of it warms you.

Once seated, Jake’s attention is all on you. He turns his phone off and places it face down on the table. A clear sign that this evening is about the two of you. "I remember you mentioned once you loved champagne, particularly the one from that small vineyard in France," he says, signaling the waiter. With a knowing smile he orders a bottle of your favorite champagne, not missing the surprised and pleased look on your face.

"How did you remember that?" you ask as you were both impressed and a bit bewildered. No guy had ever taken the time to remember the small details about you. And here Jake was wooing you already, five minutes in.

"I pay attention," he replies with a shrug that seems both casual and a bit shy. "Especially when it comes to things you like."

The champagne arrives and as Jake pours you a glass his demeanor is gentle, his movements deliberate. You clink glasses with a grin on your face. The first sip is just as you remembered—crisp, with a hint of sweetness, perfect.

"So, tell me about school," Jake prompts you seemingly genuinely interested. "What’s been keeping you busy?"

You share details about your latest projects and the challenges of balancing school with work. Jake listens intently, nodding and asking questions that show he's truly engaged in what you're saying. It's easy to talk to him and you find yourself relaxing more than you expected. The initial walls you had up slowly dissolving in the warmth of the conversation.

Turning the focus to him you recall the pieces of conversation you've picked up at the bar. "I’ve always been curious, Jake. What’s it like being a pilot in the Navy? It must be quite different from anything I can imagine."

Jake's eyes light up with a mix of pride and nostalgia. "It's intense and challenging, but flying is incredible. There’s nothing like the feeling of being up there… the freedom of it, but also the responsibility. Every decision matters. Not just for me but for my crew and everyone we support."

"It sounds amazing," you say with a hint of awe in your voice. "I’ve actually never been on a plane before. Can you believe that?"

Jake looks at you with an incredulous gaze. "What? You've never been on a plane? I’m changing that, darling," he declares with a playful but determined grin. "We’ll have to fix that soon. There’s a whole sky up there waiting for you."

As the evening progresses you laugh together over shared anecdotes and discover common interests. The connection feels real, unforced, and for a moment, the outside world with all its complications seems to fade away.

The evening had been progressing beautifully with laughter and shared stories flowing as freely as the champagne. You were beginning to see a side of Jake that was earnest and deeply attentive. A stark contrast to the playful banter at the bar. It was easy to forget the outside world in moments like this.

However, just as you're settling into a comfortable ease the first ripple of discomfort appears. A waitress approaches your table with a familiarity that instantly feels intrusive. She's all smiles, especially towards Jake.

"Jake, I didn't know you were here tonight!" she exclaims. Her voice a notch too loud for the intimate setting. She's overly friendly, touching his shoulder briefly as she speaks. Her eyes never leaving his acting as if you weren’t even there.

Jake's response is measured. His smile polite but restrained. "Hey, Sarah. Good to see you," he says, his tone neutral. He quickly turns his attention back to you trying to minimize the interaction. "Sarah used to work with me on base," he explains briefly hoping to dispel any rising concerns you might have.

You nod trying to smile, but the unease settles in your stomach like a stone. The moment is fleeting yet it lingers uncomfortably as Sarah finally moves away, her eyes lingering on Jake a moment too long.

Before the atmosphere can fully recover another beautiful woman approaches your table. This time, it's someone who's dining at the restaurant. Her approach deliberate as she locks eyes with Jake. Her presence is poised when she speaks. Her voice is tinged with a nostalgia that makes you shift in your seat.

"Jake, it's been too long," she says, reminiscing about a shared memory that clearly meant something to both of them. "Remember that weekend at the lake?"

Jake nods. His expression tightening slightly. "Yeah, that was a good time. Hope you're doing well, Rachel," he responds keeping his reply short and devoid of any warmth that could be misinterpreted. He glances at you with a flicker of concern crossing his features as he sees your discomfort.

"I'm sorry about this," he murmurs to you under his breath. His hand finding yours on the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Let’s focus on our night."

Despite his attempts to steer the evening back on course the interruptions have sown seeds of doubt. You appreciate Jake's efforts to reassure you, and you can see the sincerity in his eyes—he genuinely wants the night to be about the two of you. Yet, the encounters with his past make it increasingly difficult to ignore the reputation that preceded him. You find yourself wrestling with the warmth of his present attention and the shadow of his history.

As Jake continues to engage you in conversation, attempting to salvage the remaining warmth of the evening, you're left to ponder whether the burgeoning trust between you can withstand the challenges of his complicated past.

The mood at the table shifts palpably following the interruptions. Jake, noting your discomfort, adopts a more subdued tone. His usual easygoing demeanor tempered by the situation. “I can tell this isn’t easy for you, and I’m really sorry about that,” he says, his voice earnest, his gaze meeting yours with a steady sincerity. “I’ve had my fair share of casual things in the past. That’s not something I can undo, nor would I expect you to just overlook it.”

He takes a deep breath before continuing. Clearly choosing his words with care. “But I want you to know ever since you started at the bar, something was different. I haven’t felt this kind of way about anyone else in a long time. If ever. Honestly, I haven't pursued anyone else since you came around. You’ve sort of... monopolized my interest.”

His admission is frank, devoid of any veneer. It's just him being open and hopeful, sitting across from you. “I hate that my history might be making this awkward. I really like you, Y/N. I’m here tonight because I want to be here with you. All I’m asking for is a chance to show you who I am at this moment in my life.”

The words linger between you straightforward and clear. It’s a lot to take in. His past is a part of him but the man before you now seems earnest, seeking something genuine with you.

You pause letting the weight of his words sink in. His hand reaches across the table, not to impose but to offer a gesture of connection. In response you extend your own hand, sliding your fingers between his, locking them together as a silent acknowledgment of your willingness to see where this path might lead.

“Thank you for being upfront with me,” you respond. Your voice calm and thoughtful. “I appreciate your honesty. Let’s just see what happens, no pressure.”

Jake’s face softens, a gentle smile forming as he senses the tension easing. “No pressure. Sounds perfect,” he agrees with hope in his voice matched by the warmth in his eyes.

As the evening ends with the complexity of real-life weaving through your initial impressions you find yourself intrigued by the possibility of discovering more about Jake, beyond this first, eventful meeting. The evening with all its ups and downs, winds down as the restaurant begins to empty. You and Jake exit into the cool night air. The city lights casting a soft glow on the street. The tension that had built up inside seems to dissipate slightly with the openness around you.

As you walk together Jake's demeanor is reflective and he keeps a respectful distance that speaks to his understanding of the evening's emotional rollercoaster. Yet, his presence is reassuring, a quiet strength in the uncertain night.

"You know," Jake starts, breaking the silence as you both stroll towards a quieter part of the street, "tonight didn't go exactly as I planned. I wanted it to be perfect for you. To show you that I'm not the guy people might say I am."

You glance at him noticing the earnest furrow in his brow. His next words come slowly, measured but clear. "But maybe it's good that it happened this way. You saw everything—the good and the not-so-good. I don't want to hide anything from you."

You stop walking instead looking at him directly. His green eyes are sincere, reflecting the streetlight's soft luminescence. It's in this moment with his gaze unwavering and his stance open that you feel a shift inside you. The doubts linger but there's something about his honesty tonight that tugs at your willingness to explore what might be between you.

"I need things to go slow, Jake. Really slow," you say. Your voice firm yet not without warmth. "Can you do that? Can we take this one moment at a time?"

Jake's response is immediate. His nod accompanied by a gentle smile. "I wouldn't have it any other way. You're worth waiting for and I’m not going anywhere. I want to prove to you that I’m in this, really in this, for you."

There's a promise in his words, not just spoken but felt. You both resume walking and as you do, his hand finds yours, a simple touch but filled with intent. You interlace your fingers with his as a silent agreement to his proposal of taking things slow allowing yourself to feel the potential of what could be a new beginning.

As you walk further the city noise fades into the background, and a comfortable silence settles between you. It's not the fairy tale whirlwind. It’s real, it’s tentative, and it’s new. But it's a start. And for the first time in a long time, you feel a cautious optimism about the path ahead. The night ends not with grand gestures but with a quiet acknowledgment of something that might grow given time and mutual effort.

In the weeks following your first date your relationship with Jake blossomed beautifully against the backdrop of everyday life. Each shared moment from spontaneous coffee dates that extended into long or unplanned conversations to leisurely evening walks under a starlit sky, deepened your connection. The ease of laughter and the depth of discussions revealed layers of each other’s personalities and dreams, drawing you closer in ways both profound and delightful.

As the days turned into weeks, your phone became a constant companion, buzzing with Jake's texts that often stretched into late-night calls. These weren't just brief exchanges; they were rich, lengthy conversations where you found yourselves diving into everything from your favorite books to your deepest fears and aspirations. Jake remembered the little things you mentioned—like your love for mint chocolate chip ice cream or your dreams of visiting Greece—and surprised you with thoughtful gestures that showed just how much he cared. It wasn’t just what he said but how he listened and responded that made you feel truly seen and appreciated.

With each passing day, the shadows cast by Jake's past seemed to fade, overshadowed by the genuine warmth and steadfastness he brought into your life. His consistent effort and the undeniable sincerity in his actions slowly dismantled the walls you had built around your heart instead allowing trust to seep in and fill the spaces between your doubts.

So, by the time you found yourselves laughing together on his couch, enveloped in the comfort of a lazy Sunday afternoon the words that had been quietly taking shape in your heart felt ready to surface. The day unfolded effortlessly, each moment layered with shared smiles and unspoken promises, steering you gently toward a revelation that seemed both thrilling and inevitable. This wasn’t just another pleasant day. It was poised to become a defining moment in your relationship where feelings long simmered might finally find their voice.

The afternoon sun casts a warm, golden light through the windows of Jake’s living room, bathing the cozy space in a tranquil glow. You’re both nestled comfortably on the couch, a soft blanket draped over your legs with a lighthearted romantic comedy playing in the background. It serves more as a backdrop to your own laughter-filled conversation than as entertainment.

Jake is in the middle of recounting yet another of his infamous escapades at the base. This time involving an unintentionally hilarious mix-up during a training exercise. His storytelling is animated, his hands gesturing wildly, his eyes sparkling with mischief and joy.

"And then, I accidentally broadcasted the prank over the PA system, not just to the squad, but the whole base!" he exclaims, bursting into laughter at the memory.

You can't help but laugh along his delight was terribly infectious, his joy utterly palpable. "Jake, you're unbelievable. You always find a way to make everything so fun," you say. Your voice tinged with affection and amusement. The warmth of the moment, the closeness you felt with him, it all feels so natural. So right.

As the laughter subside you look at him with a big grin on your face. And without thinking much more the words on the tip of your tongue just slip out, "You crack me up, Jake, I love you so much." The moment the words escape your heart skips a beat as you realize what you’ve said, your eyes widening in surprise.

Jake's laughter stops abruptly. His expression shifting as he processes your words. There’s a beat of silence, heavy with significance, before his face breaks into a tender, wide smile. He looks at you. His eyes were shining with a mixture of happiness and something deeper, more earnest. "Wait, say that again," he says. His voice low and husky, filled with emotion.

Feeling a rush of courage by his encouraging gaze you repeat your words, "I love you, Jake." It feels even more right the second time. The words resonating between you, filling the space with their profound simplicity.

Jake's response is immediate. He leans in, closing the distance between you with his hand cupping your face gently. "I love you, too. I’ve been hoping to hear that. Was wondering when it would be right to tell you how I feel," he confesses. His thumb softly stroking your cheek. "I’ve been holding onto these words, afraid to say them too soon, but feeling them every day."

"Really?" you whisper. Touched by his sincerity and the depth of his feelings.

"Absolutely," Jake replies with his gaze locked on yours, intense and full of affection. "From the way you laugh to how passionate you are about your studies, from your kindness to others to your strength in handling everything life throws at you. Loving you is the easiest thing I've ever done."

He draws you closer and you find yourself wrapped in his embrace, his warmth enveloping you. "I wanted to tell you on our third date," he admits. His voice muffled as he speaks into your hair, "but I thought it might scare you off. Now, I just want to make up for lost time." He chuckled squeezing you tighter.

The room feels charged with a new energy. A new understanding as you both bask in the glow of shared love. The movie continues to play, unnoticed now, as you and Jake talk and laugh. The conversation meandering through dreams, hopes, and plans for the future. Each word strengthens your ever-growing relationship. Each moment deepens the love that now openly defines the two of you.

And as the sun sets, casting long shadows through the room, you feel a profound sense of contentment. This isn’t just a fleeting romance. It’s the beginning of something lasting, grounded in mutual respect and deep affection. You lean against him with your head on his shoulder, heart full, as you both enjoy the quiet comfort of knowing you're exactly where you're meant to be.

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[moondirti]

pregnant diner waitress reader just has a dirtbag babydaddy, calling her and screaming the whole over the car and her being late.

honestly i hadn’t planned to have her baby daddy in the picture at all but the angst potential here… too tempting to pass up

PART 1 • PART 2

tags: simon x reader x johnny. darkfic. dirtbags. verbal abuse (not by ghost or soap). pregnant fem!reader who still hasn’t realised she’s being actively abducted.

It takes a bit to convince you to let them drive you home.

Your resistance is met with a paradoxical reaction by both men. On the one hand, there’s a warm comfort at the knowledge that you aren’t so easy to take advantage of. Even in your distraught state, you push back against every solution they propose. It is quite a detour, I’d hate to inconvenience you or I’m sure I can get a friend to come out instead. You’re wary, though your exhaustion sways you to assume the best of them, which means that you aren’t quite at the point of flat out refusal.

Otherwise, they – Simon, in particular – simmer in frustration. Red wine in a saucepan, reduced to a stronger version of itself over flame. Bitter. Strong. More insistent: cannae rest easy tonicht knowing we left an expecting hen tae fend fur herself. They poke at the knot until they find a loosening, tugging, tugging, then abandoning it once a more promising end appears.

Eventually, their combined efforts (though most of the credit can be attributed to the sincere, puppy dog look Johnny sports at all times. Hard to resist, even for Simon) dismantle your willpower. You duck your head in a modest thank you and shuffle behind them, seating yourself firmly behind the drivers seat even though you’re offered shotgun, hugging your bag over your belly.

“Do you need me to type in the address on google maps or something?” You say after they pull out of the parking lot.

“Y’were on about Adderford.” Simon meets your wide eyes in the rearview.

“Yeah.”

“Reckon I know the road.”

Simon does know the way, and so does Johnny. Adderford, off of exit A36. Near a polluted lake that was the victim of an attempt to turn the town into an industrial hub. Nothing to show for that, of course – all it has to offer now is a poor quality of life for all those who weren’t fortunate enough to get out.

Yeah. They know the way, and their confidence must set a precedent for the trip. Your anxious fidgeting stops after 10 minutes of driving, and you’re smiling at the nonsensical story coming from the passengers seat a mere 5 minutes later. In the meanwhile, your rationalisation is visible. Simon watches your gaze flicker back and forth between them, then around the car that must feel luxurious next to yours. If they wanted to do something bad to you, then they would’ve already done so. Besides, what kind of delinquents drive a wrangler?

30 minutes in, you’re fast asleep.

They really couldn’t have asked for a better turn of events.

They come up on exit A36 and stick to the middle lane, passing the little sign that points to Adderford being a couple miles out. Past the point of no return, beelining towards the secluded house they’ve made your new home, and you can be none the wiser. Johnny can’t believe their luck, babbling in a hushed voice about how nice it’ll when you to wake up in their bed.

The fantasy loses its grip when your phone rings, blaring from deep within your bag. Panic ripples across your face, jolting you from your sleep as you scramble for the device. The series of events unfolds in far too familiar a way for one of them. Simon – a buried torment wringing around his guts as he listens in.

“H-Hello? Shit. What–” You’re breathless, stuttering. Back to that scared little thing they found by her car, crying. “Please- please calm down.”

And though you try to keep your voice low, they leech on to every word you say. Someone on the other line yells, indistinct insults punching through the mic and landing. You wilt, tucking your lip underneath two teeth, waiting the anger out.

(Tommy donned the same expression those nights when things got bad. Simon remembers hugging him against his chest so he wouldn’t have to face the misery his brother’s countenance wrought.)

“You shouldn’t- I’m sorry, but I thought I c-changed the locks. You’re not allowed to be in… not in my apartment.” More yelling. Soap twists a fist, concoting a hundred different ways he can track whoever it is down. Make them pay for their abuse with their own tongue down their throat. “It’s none of your business- you left…”

“Easy.” Simon whispers to his partner.

“Si.”

“I know, boy.” Perhaps all too well. It gets harder to keep a firm steer over the wheel.

“Don’t accuse me of– my fucking car broke down! You shouldn’t even– fuck! Hello? Hello?” A low scream tears from your throat, prelude to the aggressive shoving of your phone down into back your bag. Trembling fingers press down over your eyes, rubbing until your tears soak into your skin. Ridding of the evidence to your dismay. You suck in large gulps of air, holding them in your chest until it aches, then gasp out equally hefty exhales.

No one speaks for a while. Then–

“I don’t think I should go home right now.”

Too broken for them to feel anything but overwhelming pity. Johnny clicks his tongue, looking over his shoulder so you can latch on to the sincerity that seems to calms you so.

“O’course. Whatever ye need, lass.”

Your frown softens “There’s a motel–”

“Next one’s farther ou’ than our place is. Can’t take you there and back m’fraid.” Simon interjects. Like a record scratch, or sandpaper on an already raw moment. It must make him an awful man to use your earlier propriety against you, but conviction has superseded his desire to act decently.

Sure enough, you visibly blanch, shaking your head and stumbling over your words.

“No! No, of course not. Of course- that was so silly of me to ask. You can, I mean… you can drop me off anywhere, really. I’ll sort t-things out for myself.”

“Not what I meant, pet.”

You don’t catch on. He doesn’t repeat.

Johnny bridges the gap.

“We’ve got a spare bedroom.”

next part

#why do i keep writing these while sleep deprived #i’ll edit tomorrow cba rn ngl #༄dee answers #johnny ‘soap’ mactavish #simon ‘ghost’ riley #simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader x johnny ‘soap’ mactavish #ghostsoap #ghoap #x reader #x female reader #simon riley #John mactavish #ghost #soap #cod #call of duty

[christronomy]

after nap sleepies // bang chan

cw: no warnings for this one. just pure fluff and gn reader. 🫶🏻

how long was it going to take? you asked yourself this question every single day, as you crossed off days on the calendar you never really paid attention to, unless he was gone on a trip for work. this tour was just like any other—months of late night texts and phone calls, coming home from a long day at work to an empty house, just hours and hours of loneliness.

it wasn't the same without him, the house didn't feel as alive. even when you could hear his voice through the phone, it just didn't feel the same. but you always promised him you'd wait for him no matter what. you'd always be one phone call or text away—unless you were taking a nap. which is what you were currently doing.

it was such an exhausting day, so full of things to do, so much socializing, driving around, just so much. your social battery was already on low, and you were too tired to even finish putting the groceries away, as it was much of a lengthier task when you were doing it alone than when he was here to help.

you decided maybe a nap would help you gain some more energy to finish things up, not expecting the tiredness to get to you this much, causing you to sleep well into nighttime. you didn't realize how late it was until your phone woke you up, the constant ringing vibrating in your ears as you groaned in frustration, blindly reaching for it to see who was calling at these ungodly hours.

"channie," you breathed out when you immediately picked up, relief rushing through your veins as you heard his soft "hey, baby," grace your ears. you could only smile and pull the comforter over your face as you squirmed excitedly. "you sound tired. did you have a good day today?" he asked, and you sighed, rolling onto your stomach to get more comfortable. "not sure. i decided to take a nap but now i'm all drowsy," you said, trying your best to fight your clumsy tongue as you spoke and blinking hard in an effort to wake yourself up faster.

chan only chuckled, the sound warming your chest and causing your heart to flutter. he found you so cute when you were like this. "it's the after nap sleepies. they'll go away soon, don't worry," he says, and you smile to yourself, rolling back onto your back and draping an arm over your face, gasping melodramatically.

"oh no, channie! save me from the after nap sleepies, please," you say, smiling at the way you could hear his tiny, muffled squeaks of laughter. "i'll kiss them away when i come back, then," he laughs, practically being able to hear how you're pouting right now, judging by the long silence before your response. he smiles to himself giddily as he pictures you looking at him with that cute grumpy face you make when he denies something as simple as a kiss or hug.

"okay. hurry up and come back home then," you say, your voice laced with sleep, and he hums as if he's lost in thought. "mmm, i'll think about it," he says finally, chuckling softly. you huff in a half-hearted attempt to laugh along with him, but you're quickly overcome by tiredness, no longer able to fight the way your eyelids feel heavier with every passing second. the last thing you hear as you fall into deep sleep was his soft voice, telling you to "take it easy and rest well, baby. i love you. i promise i'll be back home before you know it."

#solieverse: planet reverie #haven't written anything new in a little over a month... #so js decided on posting sth soft and sweet to start off this new year #also missing him so badly #bang chan fluff #skz fluff #stray kids soft thoughts #skz soft hours #stray kids fluff #skz soft thoughts #stray kids soft hours #bang chan soft thoughts #chan fluff #bang chan soft hours #kpop fluff

[touyaz]

love shot

pairing shidou ryuusei x fem reader

word count 1.7k

notes the dialogue in this is the focal point & i was experimenting with it a lot, so shidou does say really . weird things. he's a lil hot + nasty like that <3 if you dont like it sorry u have no taste ♥���🙏

WARNINGS oral (f rec), masturbation (m), fingering, lots of petnames (wife, babygirl, and some other weird ones), reader has body hair. calls reader's pussy 'she' but otherwise no pronouns.

MINORS, AGELESS & BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. 18+ ONLY.

"ain't this the dream?" shidou murmurs, kneading your hips mindlessly. his head is buried in the crook of your neck, lips peppering kisses wherever they can. "bagged a cute, lil wife all for myself."

"stop it," you protest, leaning your head towards his so he has no space to press on. "we can do this later."

a displeased whine escapes him, and he tilts his head to dot kisses along your shoulder instead. "fuck that," he groans, and one hand comes up to tug the neckline of your shirt away. his mouth is hot against you, a little meaner than earlier with how he nips at your skin. he sweetens the blow with a fleeting kiss, only to repeat it all in the next second. "want your attention on me now."

"and i want to finish making dinner, but i guess—" you yelp when he bites the juncture between your neck and shoulder, dropping the knife in your hand so you can bat at his hands. "sei!"

"my bad," he snickers, his smirk searing itself into your flesh. "what'cha cookin', sweetcheeks?"

"curry," you snap, holding on to the edge of the counter when he doesn't budge. you bow your head, and as much as you want to finish making dinner, it's getting harder to focus on what you need to do next when shidou licks up the slant of your neck, nibbling on that soft spot behind your ear. "but it's all gonna— gonna burn if you keep this up."

"that's fine," he drawls, voice low like the rumble of a jet lifting off with the promise of taking you to new highs. "i'm in the mood for somethin' else, anyway."

there's no question about what he means when his hand snakes down your front, cupping where you're warm, wanting.

"bet you're pretty hungry for me yourself, huh?" he grins, rubbing over your sex firmly despite the layers. you can't deny it has you a little desperate, melting like butter in the hot pot next to you. it's always been too easy for him to get you like this, to have you craving whatever it is that he wants to do to you. "gonna let me take care of that for you?"

"you can do what you want later," you try again, one final attempt to win this battle, but shidou's never been one to share first place when it comes to competitions.

"or, i can turn this shit off," he starts, and he takes it upon himself to ruin everything you've done, turning the knob on the stove, so the fire dies out. "and you can hop onto the counter and let me dig into that sweet cunt of yours. sounds a lot better my way, yeah?"

there's no point in moaning about your half-cooked meal when he drags you away and helps you sit up on a cleaner surface.

"you're making dinner tonight after this," you tell him.

"yeah, yeah, whatever." he's more focussed on getting you out of your clothes, dragging your underwear down, too, and kicking the pile away when you're finally half-naked for him.

"and washing up."

"babydoll, i'll do whatever you fuckin' want, long as you spread your legs for me."

his words have you biting your cheek, and in a last ditch effort to defy him, you don't part your legs like he wants you to.

you also don't stop him from pushing them apart himself.

"not so mouthy now, are you?" he snickers, staring down at you. you can't hold his gaze and it makes him laugh louder. but then he leans in to kiss your cheek softly and the contrast has you clinging onto the edge of the counter, gulping. "you're so fuckin' cute," he murmurs, biting the fat of your cheek teasingly. "it's alright, baby, your cunt's doin' all the talkin' for you, dripping all over the kitchen. this your secret ingredient? cookin' up a love shot for me tonight?"

"shut up," you admonish, squeezing your eyes shut as if that'll help drown out his words. "that's so gross."

"fuck yeah, it is." he grins, canines bared and ready to feast. he finally sinks to his knees, and his voice sounds far away but no less overwhelming. "wouldn't mind you doing it for real. wouldn't ever wanna eat anything without it, though." he drags your legs over his shoulders easily. he wastes no time in getting his mouth on you, licking a long stripe up your slit and groaning at the taste. "oh, fuck yeah, this is it. been starving for your pussy juice all fuckin' day."

"don't— don't say that." you pull on his hair, taking your embarrassment out on him, but the moan he belts out doesn't sound the slightest bit pained.

"eh, why not?" he sucks your clit into his mouth, grazing his teeth over it lightly enough to make you jerk in his hold. he lets go with a wet smack of his lips, waiting patiently for you to look at him. when he notes the haze in your eyes, the dew on your lashes and the crease in your brows, he grins. "don't wanna hear how I've been thinking about your angel cunt all day? jacked off so many fuckin' times as well—"

"shut up—" you cry, yanking his hair, but he only rolls his eyes back shamelessly.

"fuck yeah, sexy." he drags you to the edge of the counter and back onto his eager mouth. his tongue is hot, wet, everywhere all at once. "pull it harder," he goads. "make it hurt."

narrowly, you watch as one hand disappears below, followed by the sounds of clothes ruffling as he loosens his trousers. "gonna make me nut all over the fucking floor."

he slurps noisily, messily, but it's not enough to mask the grunts and wet clicks that track each stroke of his length. his arm is a blur to you as he pumps himself, and your fingers flex around his pink-tipped strands in an attempt to ground yourself to something that isn't the lewd slide of his tongue into your sopping hole. his free hand joins in now, and it's your eyes rolling back this time, whimpers trickling out you as he starts circling your clit.

you barely understand when he starts mumbling into your pussy, "how about i'll cook ya dinner and you clean up my cum, how's that sound? off my dick and off the floor— so fuckin' dirty, bet you'd do it, though, eh?" he isn't looking for an answer, continues flicking his tongue and pinching your swollen bud and fucking his own fist to your whines. "soaking my face so much, yeah, you would do it, wouldn't ya? you've been like this all day? been waitin' for me to come home and eat you out? put up a fight earlier for what?" he slaps your clit lightly, but it's enough to have you bucking up, gasping. "yeah, that's it. been wanting this sloppy cunt on my face all day."

another hit lets you hear just how soaked you are from all his spit and drool, from your own arousal. "listen to that, she's been missing me, huh? sweet thing's been pent-up and leaking for me all day, haven't ya?" he kisses your clit and all along your slit, unabashedly wetting his lips with your arousal. "i'm here, babygirl, gonna take care of ya, gonna give you everything you're dripping for."

he uses his entire hand to spread your arousal around. he drags the mess from your slit upwards, soaking the hairs on your pelvis and drying off on your thighs only to push his fingers into your aching hole and follow the slick trail with his tongue instead.

"you ready to cum, baby?" through half-lidded eyes you can make out the way he looks up at you, eyes dark but sparking wickedly. "gonna give me all your honey-sweet love juice?"

you shake your head, gritting your teeth and hating every word that leaves him. you hate how it has you leaking onto his tongue, the coil inside of you winding tight.

he sinks his teeth along your thighs, curls his fingers in your pussy, and screws his hand around his dick. it's too much. he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks; he slips a third finger in and crooks it just right—

"don't leave me hangin' now, sugarcunt," he calls out. "let me get a taste of ya, i'm so fuckin' hungry. thought you were gonna feed me, huh?"

—and you cum with a drawn-out cry of his name, and he drags your high out until it hurts for him to give you any more.

"there she goes, give me all that sweet angel nut, baby."

your head spins, body heavy yet weightless.

over the sounds of your stilted breaths, you hear him growling, wet schlicks following as he brings himself to his own release. "oh, fuck yeah, this is it— gonna bust a— all over. should've cum in your little cunt— do it, next— gonna cum— gonna fuckin'—" his body tenses up and you watch as his cum spurts out, staining your cupboards.

he'll definitely be cleaning that up himself.

"that's the good shit," he sighs, slowing down his strokes. "feels so much better blowin' my load after eating your cum first. might have to bottle you up," he laughs tiredly. he slumps over, resting his head on your knee, and you push back the sweaty strands that cling to his forehead.

"what's—" you pant, taking a deep breath in. his chest heaves, but he doesn't look half as affected as you; if anything, he looks ready to go for another round or two, already dotting kisses back up your thigh. "what the hell's honey love juice?"

"all this good shit." he beams, easily sinking two fingers into your pussy. when he pulls them back out, he shows off the creamy strands of your arousal proudly. "and it's honey-sweet love juice. not a fan?"

"god, no," you grumble, staring at the webs that hang between his fingers.

you grimace as he slips his fingers into his mouth, speaking around them, "tastes sweet as honey, though." your face scrunches up with distaste and he continues, "how about sugar squirt, then? or creamy sex slick? or droolin'—"

#what is the point of a bllk smut fic if it doesn't revolve around reader getting head #do i tag LMAOO #fuck it we ball shidou girlies deserve smn #bllk smut #blue lock smut #shidou smut #shidou ryusei smut #shido ryusei smut #shidou ryuusei smut #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #shidou x reader #shido x reader #shidou ryusei x reader #shidou ryuusei x reader #mine #mine.bllk

[judebelle]

trent being a clingy needy bf? xx

menace - t.a.a. x reader

a/n : i’m so fucked w finals season but it’s almost break for me 😇 just gotta make it thru this week 😞 also i made this a drabble SORRYYYY but i think this is better short and sweet!

cw : swearing, clingy trent obv, reader getting increasingly more annoyed throughout the course of the fic, sexual insinuation, fluff

pairing : trent alexander arnold x fem!reader

wc : 704

---

it started off as bearable, but god, as the day progressed, you couldn’t deal with him anymore.

the him being sir trent alexander arnold.

it had just so happened that you and trent had aligned a few days off at the same time. this was a rare occurrence since your busy schedules kept you swamped 25/8.

this was the first of many days off. you just needed to get some things done around the house, but trent had other plans.

you almost took up his many offers to just lay in bed all day, but you knew you would feel better if you got things done first.

of course, trent wasn’t making this easy on you.

“c’mere, beautiful,”

“please stay here, just for a few minutes.”

“so sleepy, just nap with me for an hour, please!”

you had to resist the urge to physically roll your eyes at his constant pestering. you had to put your foot down and stop him before you ended up giving in.

“no, trent! i have to finish some things up, i’ll be done soon.”

he was still cuddled up in the bed when you finally left the bedroom to head to the kitchen. you began putting away clean dishes and cleaning the counter tops. as you wiped it down, you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist.

“y/n come back to beddd~” trent whined while propping his head on your shoulder to get a better look at what you were doing that was so important. you could feel him kiss his teeth when he saw you cleaning.

“i said, wait. if you keep annoying. me, it’s just gonna take longer!” you groaned when he didn’t let go of your body. “trent, let go. i need to go get-“

“you look so sexy in these shorts, just come back to bed.” you felt his hands slide down to cup your ass.

you rolled your eyes, a smile forming on your cheeks. “you can’t seduce me into going back into bed!” you sing songed as you turned to face him. his arms had you trapped in between him and the counter. he still his droopy eyes and his hair was a little frizzy.

you swiftly ducked out of his grip from under his arm and headed to your office, turning on your computer to print a few things. you heard the soft shuffling of socks on the floor, and low and behold-

“can you just come back, pleaseee!”

“stop it! how old are you? just give me a few minutes.” you had started to whine like a two year old, his complaints giving you a headache.

you placed the papers down and pushed past him to go to the living room, cleaning up blankets and books laying around. you grabbed the watering can and started tending to your wilting plants. all of a sudden-

“ah- get off me! trent! let go, now!”

your feet were hovering over the floor thanks to your boyfriend who had had enough of waiting. he threw your body over his shoulder easily and walked towards the bedroom.

you kicked your legs around, trying to wriggle out of his grip. you slumped against him when your efforts to escape from his death trap went in vain.

“this isn’t funny, y’know?”

he chucked despite your comment. “i can’t wait any longer, sorry.”

a stubborn smile broke across your face before he threw you onto the bed. you bounced onto the fluffy mattress with a gasp. “trent!”

he giggled softly before throwing himself down on top of you. “oww, trent you’re not light!” you found yourself laughing as he kissed your neck.

“shhh, just wanna cuddle.” he reached over and pulled the duvet over the both of you, wrapping his arms around your waist. he eventually let you breathe by rolling onto his side a little bit. you finally gave into his touch with a sigh, throwing your leg over his hips.

you reached your arms around his neck and nuzzled your head into his chest, his scent all over his wrinkled shirt.

“god, you’re a menace, you know that?” you laughed into his embrace and he responded by hugging you tighter.

“you love it.”

#trent alexander arnold smut #trent alexander arnold fanfic #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold fanfiction #trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold smut x reader #trent alexander arnold imagine #trent alexander arnold fluff #trent alexander arnold angst #trent alexander arnold fluff x reader #trent alexander arnold angst x reader #trent alexander arnold drabble #trent alexander imagines #trent alexander x you #taa #fanfic #fanfiction #football x reader #football #fem!reader #neybelle #football smut #smut #football fanfic #angst #fluff #football fluff #judebelle #football oneshot #football fanficiton

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Danger Zone (Part 13) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 3.9k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY.

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Military Inaccuracies; Daddy and Mommy Issues Galore; Arguments; Crying; Angst with a Dash of Despair; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: You show Jake the envelope and set off a bomb in your relationship.

Series Master List

Master List

A.N. It's Chapter 13 y'all. What else did you expect?

Jake returned home after work, expecting you to be up and walking around. But when you didn’t call out to him as he shut the door behind him, he went looking for you. 

Jake walked further into your shared apartment and paused when he saw you sprawled out on the couch, asleep with the small fan blowing cool air straight onto your face. You were still wearing the clothes that you wore to work that morning. 

He stopped in front of you, taking a moment for himself. He had rehearsed what he wanted to say to you about the promotion. But now that he was home and you were asleep meant that he had more time to think over those words. 

Because it was not going to be an easy discussion. 

Telling you about what the promotion meant for the next few months was not a conversation that he even wanted to think about. The absolute last thing that he wanted to do was stress you out. And the second that you started to look upset or if you started to cry, he’d crumble into dust. He couldn’t think about your broken expression. He couldn’t. It’d haunt him for the rest of his days. 

So, he decided to start with the easier audience. 

“I got promoted today, little one,” he began softly, keeping his voice low as he squatted down in front of your bump. “You shouldn’t be surprised. It was overdue, actually.” The joking smile slipped from his lips as he glanced up at your peaceful sleeping expression. “But there’s a risk that I won’t be here when you finally arrive in a few months. There was always a risk but now it got a little bigger.”

Jake bit his lip and looked down at the floor, trying to keep his own fears and emotions stable. He deserved the promotion he got. He wanted it. He craved it. He earned it. 

But the timing couldn’t have been more shitty. 

“How do you think your mom would take the news?” he whispered to your bump, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his thighs. “Not well, right?” After a moment of silence, he nodded and added, “Yeah, that’s what I thought too.” 

Jake turned to look up at your face, his heart stabbed by the image of how calm and rested you looked laying there. He should have been celebrating. He was the first to get promoted among the Dagger Squad. Cyclone seemed to think that he had a long and successful career in the Navy ahead of him. 

But why did it have to come at the cost of the biggest moments of his personal life? Ones that he would not be able to get back if he missed them. 

“Let’s just keep it between us for right now,” Jake whispered to your bump. “I'll break it to your mom slowly, okay?”

Standing up, Jake leaned over and slowly removed your shoes in an effort to make you more comfortable. There wasn’t much else that he could do without moving you and risking waking you up. So, he got up, changed, and moved to start making dinner. He knew that you would probably be starving when you woke up.

Jake was in the middle of stirring the sauce when he heard you move. Looking over his shoulder at you, Jake removed the pan from the heat and walked over to you as you sat up, rubbing your eyes tiredly. Jake sat on the coffee table in front of you as you glanced out the window, noting the setting sun.

“What time is it?” you yawned.

“Not too late. I’m making dinner,” Jake replied, causing you to smile. “How’d you sleep?”

“Like a rock, apparently,” you mused, sitting up more. “My back’s going to kill me in a few hours, I know it.” 

“Anything I can do to help?”

“No, it’s fine. I think I’ll just shower,” you stated, moving to get up. 

Jake offered you his hands and you let him help you up. Pressing a kiss to his lips, you turned and headed for the bathroom. You returned a few minutes later, dressed in one of his shirts and a loose pair of shorts, as Jake was placing a healthy portion of food on a plate for you. 

“Thank you,” you told him softly as he handed you a fork. “How was work?” 

“Fine,” he responded, his voice low. 

“Just fine?” you asked, dropping your voice low in an attempt to match his own. “You know that makes me think that something bad happened.” 

“Well, something did happen,” Jake stated, causing you to set down your fork. When you looked up at him expectantly, he continued, “I got promoted. You’re looking at Lieutenant Commander Seresin.” 

“Oh, Jake,” you praised, getting up from your seat. Walking around the island, you pulled him in for a tight hug. “Congratulations.” 

“Thank you.” 

“You deserve it. You’re an amazing aviator,” you replied, releasing him from your hug. You pressed a loving kiss to his lips before smiling up at him. “I’m so proud of you.”

He nodded and gave you another kiss, lingering, and promising more later before pulling back. Resting his forehead against your own, he cupped your bump, gently rubbing his hands over your belly.

As if it was going to be the last perfect moment that the three of you were going to share. 

“Thank you.”

You retook your seat and the two of you chatted some more. You were in the middle of telling him about the crazy lady who called your office earlier when you remembered the weird envelope. 

“And something came in the mail,” you stated, getting up again. Jake watched you curiously, a little confused. You grabbed the blue envelope and returned to the island, holding it out for Jake to take. “It’s from your mom, I think.”

The sharp clatter of Jake’s fork against his plate caused you to wince. 

Studying Jake’s expression, you frowned. Your boyfriend’s warm and comfortable demeanor was gone in a flash and now he was staring at the envelope in your hand like it was a stick of dynamite that he only had three seconds to diffuse before it blew up in both of your faces. 

“Jake?”

“I’ll take it,” Jake replied firmly, taking the envelope from your grip. 

You watched as he walked around and tossed it into the trash, ignoring your incredulous expression. He closed the trash can and returned to his seat, as if nothing ever happened. 

“Jake,” you stated, a bit scolding with your tone. “What the hell?”

You were tired of just pretending like it didn’t bother you that he didn’t share anything about his past with you. You let it slide what felt like a thousand times in the name of keeping the peace and keeping Jake comfortable. Especially when he just shut down and acted out like this at the drop of a hat. Frankly, it scared you, how quickly he could just change.

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Jake,” you stated more firmly as you walked to the trash can. “Why are you just throwing it out?”

“Just leave it,” Jake grunted, not looking up. 

“Why?” you challenged him, opening the trash can. 

“Just drop it,” Jake replied definitively, still not meeting your gaze. 

“Jake, I’m not one of your ensigns. And you don’t get to order me around like one,” you snapped a bit, pulling the envelope out of the trash can. Tossing it onto the countertop in front of him, you stared Jake down. “Your mother sent you a card. Why is that causing you to shut down like this?”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now. I’ve got enough to worry about and I don’t want to stress you out about it.”

“Can you stop using kiddy gloves with me?” you growled, folding your arms over your chest. “I’m pregnant. And ever since we told everyone, people have treated me differently. Acting like I’m weak, like I’m going to fly off the handle, or have some massive medical episode if they have a serious conversation with me. Just tell me, Jake. I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”

“I’m not trying to treat you differently,” Jake defended himself. “There are just things that I don’t want to discuss.”

“Jake, we’ve pushed off this whole conversation for months now. And I would like to have it before the baby comes. And if not now, when?” you asked, him before pointing at the card in front of him. “Why is a little card causing your whole personality to change like this?”

“It hasn’t.”

“Then why can’t you even look at me right now?”

Jake turned to face you with an annoyed expression that made you grind your teeth together. The two of you had a bit of a staring contest before Jake sighed and looked away, running a hand through his hair. 

“I don’t want to fight about something so stupid and stress you out unnecessarily—“

“—You avoiding this conversation is unnecessarily stressing me out,” you interjected, causing Jake’s expression to sour again. “Every time I try to learn about your past, you shut down. A switch just flips in your head and you’re not you anymore. And that terrifies me, Jake.”

“It shouldn’t,” Jake insisted stubbornly. 

“Well, it does,” you snapped back at him. “I mean, if our baby asks you about your parents in a few years, are you going to shut down then? Are you going to storm off? Are you going to yell at them?”

“That’s not fair,” Jake growled, turning back to you. 

“It’s not?”

“No, it’s not. Don’t bring the baby into it.”

“Jake, the baby is the whole reason why we’re here,” you stated, causing his expression to shift again. 

“So, you never would have actually wanted to be in a relationship with me if I didn’t get you pregnant?”

“That’s not what I said, Jake," you snapped back at him.

“Then what are you trying to say?” Jake asked, annoyed as he stood up. “That I wasn’t worth the trouble of telling your brother and Maverick that you’re your own person if I didn’t get you pregnant? That I was only worth it when you had to deal with me?”

“So you get to bring my family into this conversation but I had to learn your mother’s name from an envelope that you would have thrown out if I didn’t see it first?” you shot back at him. “And it’s not my fault that you and my brother and Mav had shit go down before I even moved to San Diego.”

“I’m not saying that it’s your fault,” Jake stressed. "But I'm getting really fucking tired of having to prove myself to them. Nothing I do is ever going to be good enough for them, would make me good enough for you in their eyes."

"What did they tell you?" you asked, frowning.

"Jesus Christ, what didn't they tell me? Your brother thinks I'm still going to walk out on you. That I'm going to be a shit father. Mav doesn't say anything but don't tell me that he doesn't have a plan to get rid of me," Jake stated, causing you to stare up at him with an expression like you didn't know what to do.

"I'll talk to them about it, Jake," you stated quietly, causing Jake to sigh and look away. "What?"

"Are you actually going to talk to them? Are you?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" you snapped, getting steadily annoyed.

“I’m just saying that your family isn’t perfect. And sometimes it feels like you need a reminder.”

“At least you know who my family is," you replied defensively. "I couldn’t tell you anything about your life prior to when my brother met you. And that’s weird, Jake!”

“Why do you care so much about it?” he pressed, causing your temper to flare up. 

“Because we’re having a baby together! And you’re making me feel like I’m insane for asking you questions about your past!”

“There are things that you don’t want to talk about, and I respect your boundaries. Why can’t you respect that I don’t want to talk about my parents?” Jake demanded, turning away from you. 

“Jake, I’m not asking for every little painful detail about your childhood. I’m just asking for an explanation for why you shut down like this when we talk about your family."

“Because my parents are assholes and I have no intention of talking to them ever again.”

“Why are you never going to talk to them again? Help me understand that, Jake,” you practically begged him for some kind of emotional depth. “I don’t understand, so help me, Jake. Because I would give a hell of a lot to have my parents back. What happened that made you feel this way? What happened that made you feel that cutting them out of your life was the only way to protect yourself?”

“I’m trying to protect you and our baby at this point,” Jake replied after a few moments. 

“Why do we need protection from your parents?”

“Because they’re snobby assholes who would never consider you part of their family. And I know that you’ve built up this image of our kid having loving family on both sides and grandparents to spoil them, but that’s not going to happen. My family isn’t going to want anything to do with you or the baby regardless of anything that you do.” Jake shifted his weight on his feet before asking, “Is that a good enough explanation for why I don’t want to talk about my parents?”

“It’s a start,” you stated, causing Jake to scoff and shake his head, turning away from you.

“Is everything fair game now?” Jake muttered sarcastically, earning a glare from you. 

“What have I ever kept from you, Jake?” you asked calmly, glaring over at him. "Really, what do you want me to tell you about?" 

“Why’d you break off your engagement to Connor?” Jake asked bluntly, causing you to stare at him incredulously. 

“Are you fucking kidding me, Jake?”

“No,” Jake returned, causing your temper to raise quickly again. “If you broke up with a guy that you were with, got engaged to, after five years together and your family seemed to love, adore, and respect the guy, what’s keeping you here with me? Besides the fact that I knocked you up.”

Grinding your teeth together, you took a breath to settle yourself. You turned back to Jake, who waited expectantly for your response. Your mind made up, you straightened, and stared him down.

“I broke up with Connor because he was an asshole who kept things from me because he felt that I didn’t deserve to know them, even though we were getting married, belittled me when I tried to call him out on it, and made me feel like shit because he knew that I loved him, and he took advantage of that to keep me there.” You paused for a moment, your lips wobbling a bit, before you added harshly, “But I’m really fucking glad that I learned from that mistake.”

Jake’s annoyed expression broke, but you didn’t stand around to watch it fall. Turning on your heel as tears started to gather in your eyes, you walked away from him. Grabbing your phone, purse, and keys, you moved to slip your shoes on as Jake walked over to you. 

“Where are you going?”

“This is your apartment. So, I’m going to get some air.”

“You shouldn’t be driving when you’re upset," Jake insisted, a bit frantic as he gently reached for your arm.

“I can take care of myself, Jake,” you snapped, pulling your arm out of his grip. 

“But you’re pregnant.”

“Congratulations, Seresin, you have eyes.”

“Wait—”

You turned and shot him a look that made his blood turn cold. Reaching for the doorknob, you yanked it open harshly and stepped out into the hallway. 

“Don’t follow me.”

The door slammed shut behind you, causing Jake to wince and lower his head. 

~~~~~

Maverick was sitting on his couch, watching a baseball game when his phone started to buzz. Rolling over, he raised an eyebrow when he saw that Jake was calling him. Answering it, he held his phone to his ear. 

“Jake?”

“Mav,” Jake returned, his tone sounding off. 

“Something wrong?” When Jake didn’t reply immediately, Maverick sat up, concerned, and alert. “What’s wrong? Is it the baby?”

“No. We . . . we had a fight and she stormed off and she’s not answering my calls and I’m pretty sure that she never wants to see or talk to me ever again, but I need someone to go and look for her and make sure that she’s okay,” Jake rambled, starting to get more and more hysterical as he went on.

And Maverick only felt his concern grow when he heard the emotion in Jake’s voice. Hangman was never the type to panic. Maverick had seen other members of the Dagger Squad panic in the air and on the ground, even just for a few seconds, but never Hangman.

If Jake was freaking out, Maverick was going to freak out.

“And I didn’t know who else she would turn to and I didn’t even want to think about calling Rooster—”

“—No, I can handle it,” Maverick agreed, walking over to the door. Sliding on his jacket, Maverick adjusted the phone in his hand as he reached for his keys. “Did she say where she was going?”

“No.”

“What set her off in the first place?” 

“We were talking about my family.”

Maverick knew that wasn’t the whole story and that Jake was probably avoiding saying specifics to keep Maverick on the phone, but he didn’t press it. You were out there somewhere, alone, upset, and pregnant and that was Maverick’s priority. He could deal with whatever set the whole situation off in the first place once you were found safe and sound. 

“She took her car?”

“Yes.”

“What direction did she head in when she left?”

“She’s heading towards base or you or Rooster.”

“Alright, well . . .” Maverick trailed off when he saw your car pull into his driveway. 

“What?”

“She’s here,” Maverick stated, hanging his keys up.

Sliding his jacket off his shoulders, Maverick paused for a moment, thinking about what else to say to Jake. Was Maverick shocked that the two of you had a fight that resulted in one of you storming off? No, not really. But he needed the facts. And he first and foremost needed to know that you were okay.

As did Jake.

“I’ll make sure that she and the baby are safe. You don’t have to worry about them here.”

“Thank you,” Jake croaked out quietly. 

The two men stood on the line in silence, both knowing that there were more conversations to be had, but both also knowing that their priorities were elsewhere at the moment. 

“I’ll call or text you if she’s ready to talk to you.”

“Alright,” was all Jake replied. 

“Bye, Jake.”

Maverick hung up the phone and opened the door, taking a step out as you slowly walked down the path from the driveway. Tears had already dried on your cheeks and fresh ones appeared in your eyes when you saw Maverick waiting for you. After a moment, you broke down and Maverick rushed forward, gathering you in his arms and quickly leading you inside the house. 

“Jake and I had a fight,” you cried as Maverick closed the door behind you.

“It’s going to be alright.”

~~~~~

Jake sat with just the kitchen light on, giving him just a little bit of light to see. Looking at the blue envelope on the coffee table with his mother’s scrawl written on it, Jake slowly picked it up. Ripping the envelope open, Jake pulled out a simple card like the ones that people would buy in a store.

It was a simple card that just helped destroy your relationship. 

Opening the card, Jake paused when he saw the cartoon baby on the left side of the card. With his heart beating harder in his chest, Jake turned to read the paragraphs that his mother wrote to him.

Jake,

I hope that this card finds you somehow, unlike my other messages. I miss you, sweetheart, and hope that you’re being safe flying around and not pushing limits like you usually do. Though I guess you get that from your father. He asks about you still. I know that the two of you have your differences, but maybe this new phase of life that you’re entering will change your perspective a little bit. 

I heard that you’re having a baby with a girl out in California. I hope that everything’s going well with her and that she and the baby are healthy. And that you’re getting married, which is the right thing to do. And I hope that the two of you love each other and your child with everything in your hearts. 

I’d love to meet her, Jake. And give her a beautiful gift. She’s the mother of my grandbaby and if you love her, I love her too, honey. You’re going to be a wonderful father. I hope you have a strong, sweet little boy to carry on the Seresin name. 

I haven’t told your father about what I heard, but that doesn’t mean that he hasn’t heard it. Please, honey, call me. The number’s the same. I just want to talk.

Love,

Mom

Jake set the card down and held his head in his hands for a moment. His mind was racing and his hands were starting to shake. There was too much going on and he had control over too little of it for him to feel calm and collected. He felt like the world was spinning and he was just getting thrown around. 

Angrily tossing the card away, Jake got to his feet and stormed off, heading down the hall to his bedroom. But when he stepped inside and saw your pregnancy pillow there, mocking him, a batch of hot, frustrated tears slipped down his cheeks. 

Dropping to his knees, Jake slammed his fist onto the carpeted floor, before holding his head in his hands and breaking down. 

~~~~~

You laid on your side in Maverick’s spare bedroom, staring out the window. You were in no emotional state to go back to see Jake and talk about your fight and you didn’t want to make it worse. Maverick told you to stay as long as you needed, and you were taking him up on his offer. You told him not to tell anyone else about what happened for now and he agreed. And after giving you some dinner and a thousand pillows, Maverick left you alone with your thoughts. 

Looking out the window, you rubbed your hand down your bump, hoping that you’d at least feel your baby move tonight. But when they didn’t move like normal, you couldn’t help the choked sob that escaped your lips nor the tears down your cheeks. 

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[seresinhangmanjake]

The One I Want: Part 7

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes/Warnings: traumatic past, trust issues, cursing, very likely typos

Words: 3262

The One I Want Masterlist

Jake Seresin is a puzzle whose pieces, as you have come to see, are already slotted together. You learned tonight that a few of those pieces are worn from being picked at, but they don’t impede his ability to be complete. Jake is beautiful and smart with a well-built confidence and a certain quality that, with enough time, makes you want to open yourself up to him. Everything about him goes together. It all works. Those pieces make Jake the man he is, in all of his perfection. So being in his presence, you want to be who he wants you to be. You want to be just as put together. But you’re not sure you’re strong enough for that. 

“You can trust me,” he says, your hands still clasped together. You glance down at those hands, wondering when exactly he wove his fingers with yours. “I’ll share first if that’ll make it any easier.”

Eyes flicking up, you take in the intensity of the pair staring back at you—the depth within them, the swelling pupils that are pushing the green into a thin ring and drawing you in. They’re too honest, and it hits you like a ton of bricks.

Has anyone else ever looked at you this way? You think the closest instance you can recall involves the man you’d naively fallen in love with who lived in the first town you’d moved to on your own. But his look was a hidden lie discovered far too late. 

You suppose there was a fraction of Jake’s honesty in Millie’s eyes when she expressed her thoughts and told her story so openly. She would probably be willing to attempt understanding you if you offered it. 

You know you’re reaching, though. Trying to grasp at something that isn’t all there to prove that the way Jake is looking at you now is nothing unique. That it’s not special. That he doesn’t make your heart pound or your stomach flutter or cause a tingle to creep up your spine.

But when you consider telling him the truth of your history, you already sense the shame you’ve been living with for years preparing to double in force. And how can you allow that? You don’t need anything else weighing you down. You can’t possibly handle more. Certainly not from him. 

You tear your eyes away from his and aren’t shocked to find that that’s exactly what it feels like—a tear. A tearing that holds so much resistance you can practically hear the slow rip that severs the connection. 

“It’s not that easy,” you whisper.

“It can be,” he says, fingers tightening around yours. “You know how much I want to know you.”

The closing of your throat doesn’t allow you to swallow. An invisible hand is wrapped around your neck, blocking your oxygen, fogging your vision with unwanted tears. Your lip quivers all on its own.

Jake reaches out, lightly pressing his thumb to that lip as if he could stop its trembling. 

Then you shake your head and his thumb disappears. 

Standing, you try to step away, but his hand, still tangled with yours, stops you. You think he’s doing it on purpose, refusing to let you leave until he gets what he wants, but when you look at his face, it’s blank. His eyes stare ahead, the corners of his mouth are turned downward, and he doesn’t seem to feel you prying open his fingers to free your hand. 

His arm drops and slides into his lap, and you take that as a sign to retreat to your bedroom. 

You’re not quite through the door when you hear, “I wish you felt like you could trust me.” His voice is as defeated as his facial expression had shown. Low, dark, raspy. “Whatever it is, it's not going to change how I see you.”

You want to believe him so badly. So much so that, without any effort, you could let it consume you. But you can’t bet on his words. So you close your door the rest of the way. 

—

You’ve thought about him for a week straight, and each of those thoughts has scribbled their way into the notebook you’d sort of kind of—would deny it if anyone asked—stolen from the shop. 

But your little notes on Jake you don’t allow to blend with the chaotic notes of your past. He gets his own pages with words written in neater script. There’s not a single smudge of ink from your hand rubbing the paper in a rush to get your memories down before you forget some of their details. Not a single splotch of liquid black from a pen pressed too harshly onto the paper. No holes from that pen tracing the same words over and over in a fit of dampened anger. Like Jake, your notes on him are neat, and beautiful, and perfect in appearance. 

What they contain, however, is something different: bunches of sentences warring with one another as you try to decide what you’re going to do next. You live with him. You see him every day. You’ll have to interact, which means you’ll have to get over this hump. The only problem is that it may not be a hump Jake wants to get over.

In the months you’ve known him, you’ve never seen him the way he was that night last week. So much was crammed into a couple of hours and it provided you with a fresh image of him—not an image that changed, exactly, but simply an image that developed a new layer. And you liked having that layer of his visible, until it became clear that the spotlight was turning to you so you may develop another layer as well. 

Stepping out of that light meant plenty to you—you knew the message you were sending, even though you felt resistance from every part of you screaming to stay put—but it did more to Jake than you imagined, and that realization came in the form of Jake not speaking to over the past weeks worth of mornings, not smiling, not waiting for you so you could share breakfast. He’s gone before your alarm goes off. 

It only took you ten hours to notice the void that formed in your chest from missing him around you. After ten hours—most of which you spent trying to sleep—you felt awful in more ways than one. Not only were you exhausted and absorbing your dislike of his absence that first morning, but Jake, despite his hurt state, continues to take care of you. 

Those breakfasts he doesn’t wait around to share with you are still available, already made up on a plate with saran wrap keeping them safe in the fridge. The post-its he sticks to the coffee pot to inform you of said breakfasts never fail to have a small smiley face drawn in the corner. And to be fair, he does speak to you a little, but unless it seems to be a matter of life or death, which you haven’t been able to manage, his answers are clipped. Even then, it could be that those short answers are the best he can do for himself rather than anything he is doing for your benefit. With how much Jake talks in general, and with how lively you are used to seeing him, maybe he can’t be one-hundred percent silent no matter how much he wants to. 

Regardless of what it really is, the tension has grown thicker by the day.

These days are not ones you want to morph into routine. You can’t watch them settle and solidify when you crave him and what he adds to your new life to this degree. Which means you have to figure yourself out. Not all of you—that will take some time—but enough of you that you can approach Jake and take the chance to be honest with him. His offer to exchange stories shows that it is not just you who needs it, but Jake as well. 

That is what has prompted you to bring your notebook to work over the last seven days. And the more time you spend writing your notes, the more you release from your damaged soul, and the more good things about Jake start piling up. His faults are underwhelming and overshadowed, and all it confirms is that you want him back. So you decide that when he picks you up from work, something you never expected him to continue doing considering your current relationship, you’re going to break the silence by asking for another chance. 

—

When Rooster’s truck pulls up to the store, Millie is leaning halfway out the passenger side window, one hand waving your way, the other arm bracing her precarious position. A moment later, her elbow slips on the sill and she lurches forward with a sharp yelp. Looking past her, you can see Rooster reach over the center console and wrap his arm around her waist to pull her back to safety. 

“Babe, please,” he groans. “You’re stressing me out.”

She glances at him over her shoulder. “Oh, you hush. I’ve never fallen.”

“Yet,” he emphasizes. “I’d like it if my girlfriend stayed alive. I've got plans that involve you.”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head, Darlin’. You know my hips will save me from making it all the way out the window.” 

Rooster only rolls his eyes in response before unwrapping his arm and giving her ass a light smack. 

Millie looks back at you, her grin wide and displaying a row of straight, white teeth. “Hey, honey. Workin’ hard or hardly workin’?”

“You can only work so hard here,” you say with a weak chuckle. “Where’s Jake? Is he okay?”

You want that answer as much as you don’t. You pray he’s fine and safe, but then it means the tension that hasn’t dwindled the slightest has finally become too much for him. Though you’d rather he avoid you than be injured or ill, it hurts no less. Right as you devise a plan to bring the two of you back together, he pulls further away.

“Oh, he’s um…” Millie bites her lip.

“Staying on base tonight,” Rooster says, leaning back to meet your eyes over Millie’s shoulder. “He went in to get some extra work done and thought it would be easier.”

If the lie weren’t so terribly obvious, Rooster’s face would’ve betrayed him. The man is not a master of deception. He can’t pull it off. You suppose that bodes well for Millie, if he would ever dare tell her an untruth. Not that you can imagine a situation where he would. 

Millie’s nerves wipe from her face at her boyfriend’s explanation, and you almost snort from how cute they are. They operate as their own little team, supporting and backing their partner up to keep the other from falling. Whether they succeed in their mission, like trying to convince you Jake is busy, is another thing. 

Your little red-headed friend transforms back into her giddy self. “Right, so he asked us to come get ya,” she says with a wink.

Now that, you do believe. Jake may not want to see you, but he wouldn’t leave you stranded. And as disappointing as it is to see Rooster’s truck instead of the one you perfer, you know it’s not enough to convince you to give up on your end goal. With your plan thwarted, you only gain more time to figure out exactly how you’re going to bring up what you want to tell Jake.

—

You’ve decided Sundays are the best days. Sundays are easy days. They are days set aside for relaxing, where you can spend twenty-four hours in your home with only a robe wrapped around your body and not be judged. Many stores are closed on Sundays, the gift shop included, and most people don’t work, Jake included. And Jake Seresin, though not the type to sit around, does allow himself the mornings of Sundays to be what he would normally consider lazy. 

When you first moved in, you didn’t love this habit of his. Knowing no one but him and knowing no place but the apartment meant you didn’t do anything or see anyone else. He had you locked in with him for at least three hours before he met his team at the gym, and he took those three hours very seriously. Most of their minutes he dedicated to being around ta you,lking to you, asking you questions—anything you did, he was there to do it with you. And while it once bugged you a bit, it eventually grew on you. He grew on you. You stopped caring about how he spent his Sunday mornings because your routine and his melded into a comfortable place, and you've had no intentions of disrupting that—until now. 

After forgoing sleep to spend the entire night thinking about Jake, you’re sure you look like hell when you step out of your room and into the living room where he sits. You didn’t think to check yourself in the mirror, and Jake doesn’t acknowledge you in favor of reading his book to confirm or deny your likely-ragged state. 

You don’t care how you look, though. 

You care about pushing yourself forward. 

“Jake?” 

His hum is dismissive, but you don’t hold it against him. You understand his feelings too well, and you accept them. When he was so vulnerable and raw—when he told you something he’d not told even his closest friends—you denied him the same courtesy, and that decision hurt him. He aches. You still see it on his face and in his movements. The way his fingers gripped the book and his shoulders tensed the moment you entered the room. How he pulled his bottom lip inward and trapped it between his teeth and has yet to let it go. 

He’s trying to hide the discomfort your presence causes, and he is doing so well that, as someone with plenty of experience, you’re almost proud. But the act unravels completely when you say, “I trust you.”

His head slowly rises. Then, closing the book and setting it aside, Jake stands from his spot on the couch, brow pinched as if he had not heard you correctly. “What did you say?”

“I trust you,” you repeat. 

One hand settles on his hip as the other goes through his hair. He squeezes his eyes shut in a two-second long blink as if trying to snap himself awake. Lips part, perhaps to say something, anything, but then they seal again. 

Before you lose your nerve, you inhale, exhale, and with a single nod, mutter to yourself a final, “I trust him.” 

Then you spew out everything you’ve kept inside—everything you’ve kept away from him. 

“My parents left me,” you say aloud for the very first time. You try to hold them back, but tears accompany that statement, gathering in the corners of your eyes. “Dad first, when I was nine. Mom when I was fourteen. They left and I don’t know where they are, and I don’t really care, but they disappeared and it…it messed me up. It left me lost, and I learned to let people hurt me because no one showed me anything else. I let people treat me however they want, which most often means attacking the insecure parts of me. I let them call me names and look at me in ways that strip me of my dignity, and I can’t stop it. I don’t stop them.

“When I can’t take it anymore, I leave wherever I am,” you say before pausing to catch your breath. 

Jake doesn’t take the opportunity to speak. He stands there, staring, listening, waiting for you to offer him more. 

“You weren’t that far off at the diner when you said I was trying to live in every beach town for two months before moving on to the next. They haven’t all been beach towns, but there have been many of them and I never stay for long,” you admit. “The minute I have the means, I go. I graduated high school by myself and left my hometown, fell in love with an asshole in the second town and left, got a job at a bar whose drunks found me an easy target, so I left again, and it’s been the same everywhere I’ve landed, again and again and again. People break me down so I find someplace new. You are—” You cut yourself off to reconsider your words, “This is my eleventh new place.” One of those tears breaks free to slide down your cheek. “And I don’t know how long I’m going to last here, but I already hate the thought of leaving.”

Done with your speech, you release a heavy breath.

When Jake looks away from you, it’s a bucket of ice water dumped over your head. Your heart crushes with the realization that you were right. Jake was wrong. Seeing you differently is not as difficult as you had hoped and he had promised. In fact, he doesn’t see you at all anymore because he won’t even give you a glance. You presented the reality that you are unloved and unwanted and explained exactly why that is, and now he has in his hand all of the reasons why others mistreat you, the ability to evaluate those reasons, and decide for himself if those reasons are valid. 

And in that moment, you know you are fucked. You’re about to be lost again. On your own, in the dark, with nothing to hold on to. Not that you didn’t anticipate this coming along eventually, but you would have liked to stick around a little longer. 

Through the blur of tears, you see Jake nod. That’s all. No words, no shift in facial expression; he nods to the floor rather than give you the respect of nodding to your face. He nods again, and then he looks up to meet your gaze. 

Jake’s hands fall from his hips, and in four strides he closes the space keeping you apart, cups your jaw in the heat of his palms, and plants his lips on yours. 

His kiss lands somewhere between hard and soft, between eager and restrained, between needy and downright desperate. And after adjusting to the shock he plunged you into, your mouth begins to move against his. 

Jake is warm, and cozy; he tastes like the one Splenda packet he puts in the oatmeal he occasionally has for breakfast, and it all makes your brain hum in a comfortable delight. You take from him all that he takes from you, and give to him all that he gives you, and in the process, accept that you truly want this and he wants this and that’s all that matters. You’re not working harder to please him than he is working to please you. You’re not thinking about what he will think when your lips separate. You’re not afraid of being a disappointment because were that the case, surely he would have released you by now. But he hasn’t released you. He holds on and pulls closer and doesn’t let go, not even when the kiss breaks.

Thumbs stroke your cheeks as your eyes slowly drag from his swollen lips to his nose to that mossy-green shade you’ve become attached to. There’s a hint of concern in his stare. But then you smile, so he smiles, and the concern fades. 

“Your turn,” you whisper.

---

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @cehenyne @tngrace @mamaskillerqueen @emma8895eb @benedictsvestcollection @blackwidownat2814 @himbos-on-ice @entertainmentgal8 @hookslove1592 @whoeverineedtobe @alwaysclassyeagle @chaytea06 @cherrycolas-things @turtle-in-a-tornado @have-a-nice-day-k @inkandarsenic @kidd3ath

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #top gun #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake seresin x plaus size!reader #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin angst #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin fanfiction #tgm #tgm fic

[seeingivy]

family rules 

satoru gojo x f! reader 

**read the other one’s here

in which a horrible fight, an even worse accident, and a few injuries leads to you, satoru, megumi, and tsumiki creating some family rules  

- 

Megumi sits across from you on the counter, his eyes narrowing at the ground, as you press a pack of frozen peas into his eye. He winces at the contact, his eye still swelling into a brilliant shade of purple. 

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, kid.” you whisper. 

His head remains low, refusing to meet your eye. After his fourth fight of the month, you feel helpless with where you stand with him, unsure how you can help him regulate how he’s feeling. You knew violence was an easy outlet for him, something you’re sure you had Toji to thank for, but you still tried to get him to change his ways, at least a little bit. 

Satoru’s approach, however, was squandering any efforts you were trying to make. The first time Megumi got into a fight, Satoru was positively pissed, not because Megumi punched a classmate, but because he didn’t place his thumb inside his fist. It was very infuriating for him to find out his kid couldn’t punch the right way. 

The second and third fights were hardly any different, Satoru majorly concerned with whether or not Megumi won, or if he hurled any insults while fighting, rather than actually reprimanding him. You knew Satoru could be immature, like a gangly man-child at times, but you were growing frustrated with his carefree nature as of late. 

At the end of the day, the two of you were responsible for Megumi. Tsumiki was easier in that sense, more receptive to the help you gave her. Slowly but surely, she had been coming out of her shell, coming to you and Satoru for help when she needed it. But Megumi was a stone cold rock, stubborn as they come. A blazing ball of anger. 

You hear Satoru’s key jam into the door, ready to brace yourself for the talk you wanted to have with Megumi. You had texted Satoru earlier in the day, letting him know that Megumi had gotten into another fight and the two of you needed to have a talk from him. 

He pads into the kitchen, a pale pink box resting in his hands. He places the box on the counter, pressing a swift kiss to your head and then Megumi’s. As he raids through the fridge, you open the box out of curiosity and feel your blood boiling. The cake says congratulations megumi in pale blue frosting. 

“Megs, do you mind joining Miki upstairs for a minute? I need to speak with Gojo over here.” you say, straining a smile at him. 

Both Megumi and Satoru’s eyes widen, the use of his last name signaling to Megumi that he should leave while he still can. Megumi stalks away, taking his bag of frozen peas with him. 

“You have got to be kidding me, Satoru. You bought him a cake for punching another kid in the face?” you say, clenching your fists in efforts to stay calm. 

“It’s just a joke, my love. No harm done. I’ll talk to him about it later. You know, all that cheesy stuff you say - words before violence, be the bigger man by walking away.” he says, pressing a consolation kiss to your cheek as he sets out plates for dinner. 

You cross your hands over your chest, absolutely livid with him. How can he be so calm about this?  

“Satoru, be serious for one minute. Megumi is our responsibility. You’re doing him a disservice if we keep letting him process his anger this way. Don’t lead him down the wrong path.” you say, turning towards him.  

He turns to face you, clearly frustrated with your insistence. You knew he thought you were a little bit of a stickler, the complete opposite of his carefree nature, but he usually loved you for it. However, your differences came with butting heads often, especially when it came to Tsumiki and Megumi. 

“I’m not leading him anywhere wrong. You’re setting him up for failure if you tell him to keep letting kids push him around like that. You’re the one leading him down the wrong path.” he states, crossing his arms across his chest. Childish, even during a fight. 

“Solving your problems with fists isn’t always the answer, Satoru. This is why he doesn’t talk to us when we ask him what’s wrong. We have to wait for him to explode, just to find out he was suffering the entire time.” you respond, clenching your fists so hard you’re sure you’ve drawn blood.  

“Whatever problem he has, I’ll deal with it. Remember, he’s my kid, not yours. My responsibility. So I’ll figure out what’s best for him moving forward.” 

He waits for a response, his eyes still boring into yours. You don’t bite back, but instead turn around to face the door, the tears welling in your eyes. 

“All quiet now, Y/N? Have nothing to say to me?” he says. 

“No, I don’t.” you bite back, bitterness evident in your voice. 

“And why’s that? You sure had a lot to say a few minutes ago.” 

“Because. He’s your kid. Not mine. It’s not really my business what he does, is it?” you spit back, turning to him with your tear filled eyes. 

As much as you can care for Megumi, he’s right. Tsumiki and Megumi are technically his kids, you’re just his girlfriend who happened to stick around once they arrived. And as much as you can care and love the two of them, that doesn’t earn you a place in their family. 

You feel Satoru’s fingers crawl around your wrist, his face softer than it was minutes ago. 

“Hey, hey. Wait a minute.” 

You shrug his wrist off, grab your keys, and run out the door. There’s no point in staying somewhere you don’t belong in the first place. 

 - 

You ignore Satoru for a few hours, currently eating ramen on a very annoyed Shoko’s couch. Nanami was here as well, having been around helping her hang some paintings in her room. You feel your phone buzzing on the other side of the couch, sure it’s Satoru spam calling you after you had been ignoring his texts.

He had been texting periodically every thirty minutes, but had resorted to calling for the past ten. Shoko thinks you should slap him once, set him straight for good. Nanami thinks the two of you should talk it out, maybe explain where you’re both coming from. 

You choose to ignore both of their advice, opting to watch Ten Things I Hate About You and diminish Shoko’s ramen supplies one bowl at a time instead. 

Shoko runs into the room, followed shortly by Nanami, who has a phone pressed to his ear. They’re both rushing around the room, putting on their shoes and shoving random items into a bag.

“Y/N, get up. Right now! We have to go.” says Shoko, placing your shoes in front of you as you still pace the room. 

You stand up, moving slowly for your shoes. They’re both still rushing around you, filling the backpack with an extra pair of clothes and the entire bunch of bananas sitting at the counter. 

“Where are we going?” 

They seemed to have missed the question you had just asked. Shoko nearly falls rushing upstairs to grab something, a sense of urgency present in the two of them as they move around you. 

“Do you know Megumi’s blood type?” says Nanami, as he hands you a hoodie to wear. 

“His blood type? Why do you need his blood type?” you say, pulling his hoodie on. 

“Satoru and Megumi. They got into a car accident. They’re both at the hospital now.” he says, your blood turning cold. 

He places his hand to your shoulder, squeezing once in support. A car accident. They both got into a car accident. You look up at Nanami, his brown eyes filled with concern. 

“O negative. His blood type is O negative.” you whisper, grabbing your phone from the couch and heading out the door with the two of them. 

As you scroll through the notifications on your phone, you realize the person calling you wasn’t Satoru, it was the hospital. You were the first emergency contact, followed directly by Nanami, who had actually picked up the phone. 

Nanami nods in response, relaying the blood type on the phone. The three of you file into the car, Shoko sitting with you in the back, her hand clasped into yours. 

“I know all the doctors there, they’re going to be just fine.” she says, securing her seatbelt on.  

You nod, twiddling with your house key in your pocket. You pull out your phone, texting Tsumiki to see where she is. Nanami had only mentioned Satoru and Megumi, the thought of her sitting all alone in a room somewhere worsening your mood all together. As you open your phone, you finally read all of Satoru’s texts, the one’s he sent after your fight. 

i’m sorry love 

you know i didn’t mean it 

just come back, you know he’s our kid 

you’re a part of our family 

i know you’re right. he shouldn’t be punching people every time he disagrees with them. i just have trouble being too hard on him, i don’t want to be like my parents 

not an excuse. i know i’m in the wrong. we can have the talk with him like you wanted. just come back y/n. 

kids are getting real upset with you gone, they miss you already 

we’re coming to get you. 

You drop your phone onto the floor of the car, the tears flowing freely now. They were coming to get you. You’re the reason they were in that car in the first place. 

Shoko places a hand to your back, directing you to calm your breathing as you enter the parking lot. Nanami parks the car and you’re rolling out of the car, your feet dragging you the doors of the Emergency Department. 

As you enter the waiting room, you spot Tsumiki sitting on the chair alone, her cheeks pink from crying. You run over to her, crushing her in your embrace. You feel her cry against you, separating to check she wasn’t injured. 

“The blood, it’s not mine. It’s Satoru’s.” she says, hiccuping in between her words from crying. 

You feel a tightness in your chest, feeling nauseous at the thought of how much blood is on her shirt. How much blood did he lose? You cross your heart that he’s still conscious at the least, so you can tell him how sorry you are for leaving in the first place. 

“Megumi?” you ask, still holding her in your arms. 

“He cut his arm, but I think they said he was going to be okay. They won’t let me in since I’m not over fourteen.” 

“That’s okay. Stay here with Auntie Shoko and Uncle Nanami. I’ll go ahead and check on them and come back okay?” you say, pressing a kiss to the top of her forehead. 

“I want to be a part of your family.” she says, her eyes colored red. You feel your heart squeeze at her words, slightly upset at yourself for even putting that idea in her mind in the first palace. 

“You are a part of my family, Miki. Me and Satoru were just having a little disagreement, that’s all.” you respond, squeezing her hand twice before heading towards the doors of the ER. 

You brace yourself, pushing the two double doors open. You see Satoru’s white hair first, lying in the bed directly across from the doors. He’s hooked up to two IV’s, his eye a brilliant purple. 

You walk in, grabbing his hand in yours. His eyes flutter open, his eyes softening at the sight of you across from him. He squeezes your hand twice, wincing as he sits up in his bed to face you. 

“If you put on a cute little nurse's uniform, we could live out one of my biggest fantasies right now.” he whispers, his hand caressing the side of your cheek. 

You laugh through your tears, cursing his idiocy in moments like this. He’s okay. He’s making perverted sex jokes while he’s in a hospital bed. He’s more than okay. You look back at him, his blue eyes staring into yours. You can feel the tears flowing out of your eyes, your neck drenched in your tears. 

“Hey, hey. I’m okay.” he says, opening his bandaged arms for you to enter his embrace. 

“Don’t do that again, ‘Toru. I thought you left me. You’re the only family I have.” you say, pressing your face against the side of his neck, taking in his familiar musky smell. 

“Excuse me little lady. You’re the one who left me. You’re the only family I have too. Can’t believe you thought otherwise for even a second.” he says, his hand running through the side of your hair. 

“You just seemed so mad. And technically, he is your kid.” 

He tightens his grip, pulling you away from his chest to look at you. 

“He’s our kid. I got mad but that’s what family does, love. We disagree, get into a fight, but come back to each other at the end. Kind of broke the rules by walking away, silly girl.” he says, his fingers poking into the soft of your cheek. 

“We don’t have any rules. But, I won’t walk away again.” you say, cupping his face in your hands. 

“Better not. I’ll crash the car again to bring you back.” 

You glare at him, squishing his face tighter in your hands. Still immature, even in a hospital bed. 

“There’s that downright horrifying glare I love.” he laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You smile in response, pressing a kiss to his cheek in response. 

“Where’s Megumi?” you ask, settling back into his arms. 

“Getting stitches. I tried to join him back there, but they wouldn’t let me.” he says. 

“I’ll send Miki in to sit with you. She’s out there crying puddles. I’ll try to see if I can go in there and hold his hand.” 

He nods in response, letting go of you as you get off the bed next to him. 

- 

You watch Tsumiki run into Satoru’s arms as soon as she enters the double doors with you. You watch him hold her close, whispering into her ear as you cross the hallway to find Megumi. 

Before you grabbed Tsumiki, Satoru had mentioned that Megumi and Tsumiki had heard parts of your fight and seemed slightly bothered by the entire ordeal together. Tsumiki’s comment from earlier suddenly made a lot more sense to you. 

You find Megumi at the end of the hallway, wincing at the doctor putting stitches in his hand. When you reach his bed, you press a kiss to the top of his head, holding his free hand in yours. Your tears have returned, the relief flooding through you that your kid is mostly still intact. 

He squeezes your hand as the doctor continues, salty tears streaming down his face. You swipe your fingers across his cheek, wiping away the wetness with your hands. 

“Are you mad at me?” he whispers, his eyes still narrowed towards the ground. 

“No. Are you mad at me?” 

“No.” 

The two of you sit in silence, your hands still pressed together as the doctor continues the stitches. You can’t help but stare, eyeing Megumi for any signs of pain as time goes on. He has a long gash running down the length of his arm, a few pieces of glass lodged near his wrist. 

“I won’t fight anymore.” 

You shoot him a weak smile, letting him lean his head against your shoulder. The two of you sit in silence for a while, with him rubbing circles into the side of your hand as the doctor finishes. You and Megumi walk out of the hallway, his arm fully bandaged, to meet Tsumiki and Satoru back outside. 

Tsumiki runs over, crushing you and Megumi into a hug. You see Satoru’s shoulders relax at the sight of Megumi, running his hands through the kid's hair as the two of you walk up to them. 

You bend down, holding the two of them in your arms, with Satoru still sitting up in his bed. 

“So I was thinking.” 

“You can do that?” responds Megumi, effectively cutting off Satoru from whatever he was saying. 

You and Tsumiki laugh in response, you ruffling his hair. You swear you can see the makings of a smile spreading across his face. 

“Since we’re a family…we have to lay down some ground rules. We never made any when we started living together. First, Tsumiki always has to do whatever I say.” 

The three of you glare at him, none of you finding his joke amusing. 

“I’m kidding, obviously. Tough crowd. My first real rule is for Megumi. You can’t punch someone every time you’re upset with them. No more fighting.” 

You smile at him, your heart beaming at his words. Megumi nods in response, agreeing to the first rule put out. 

“Second, we all stay together, no matter what. No walking away. We can argue all night for all I care, but no one walks away.” 

The three of you nod in response, agreeing again. Tsumiki speaks up this time, cutting Satoru off. 

“Three. No arguing if we can avoid it. At least not all the time anyways.” 

You and Satoru promise her you won’t fight, at least not like that again. The four of you huddle together, squeezing each other into the tightest hug known to man. 

“I have one.” says Megumi, whispering into your ears. You nod at him, telling him to speak up. 

“No one leaves the house without saying goodbye. You especially, Mom.” 

Mom. Mom. Megumi just called you Mom. You stare down at him, meeting his gaze. You can see Satoru gaping at the two of you in your peripheral vision. He pushes himself further into the hug, hiding his face against Satoru’s shirt, the tips of his ears pink. You look over at Satoru, smiling at him. You can feel his pouting starting already, you knew Satoru was competitive when it came to these things. 

You hold them all close, soaking in the warmth of the three of them against you. You feel Satoru’s hand tangle with yours behind Tsumiki’s back, his forehead resting against yours. 

“Hey, fifth rule. Everyone calls me daddy from now on.” 

Megumi and Tsumiki groan in response, disgusted by his choice of words. You lightly tug at the ends of his hair, signaling him to shut up and stop ruining your first moment as a family. The four of you head out of the ER, hand in hand, with a congratulations megumi cake waiting for the four of you at home. 

#satoru #satoru x y/n #satoru x #satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x you #gojo satorou #satoru x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk satoru #jjk gojo #jujutsu megumi #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro tsumiki #jujutsu kaisen #seeingivywrites!

[v4mphour]

break a sweat - roronoa zoro

synopsis: training with zoro in the weight room didn’t go exactly how either of you expected it to.

content warnings: female reader, face fucking, light praise, degradation, squirting, creampie, pet names.

word count: 3.4k

18+ mdni

You collapse on to the mat, panting heavily as you shut your eyes tight, trying to catch your breath and rest up a bit.

“Really? You’re gonna give up that easy?” Zoro scoffs, and chuckles. You open your eyes again, and look up at him as he stands over you while you lay there on the floor of the training room.

The past few days, you had been training with Zoro, in an effort to get stronger. You weren’t exactly a big fighter on the crew, and you certainly weren’t the strongest; so deciding on some self improvement, you had asked Zoro if he would help you train.

Just about a day into your training, though, you had begun to regret your asking of his help. He was so sassy, so teasing to you when you needed to take more breaks than him or gave up easier than he did. It’s almost as if he forgot that he’s one of the strongest members of the crew, and definitely taller and bigger than you were; so he was able to tolerate a lot more.

You huff in response to his words, rolling your eyes a bit.

“You’re not very helpful, you know?” You say, seeing as Zoro holds his hand out to you, offering to help you up.

He chuckles again, and pulls you up as you grab his hand.

“So what? You’re done for the day?” Zoro asks, and you nod in response.

“Yep.”

“Tch- so much for helping you train, you barely went for thirty minutes; and you expect to get stronger? Really?”

At the moment, you can’t be bothered to listen to his criticism of you, though; not when he’s standing right in front of you, shirtless, showing off his incredible muscled figure. Those thick arms, the slight veins protruding from his biceps, the way the sweat from his relentless workout drips between the indents of his abs, his tanned skin almost having a glow to it when he’s all sweaty and worked up like this. It’s quite inviting, and distracting.

That definitely wasn’t the first time you had checked Zoro out, not even close to the first time. You often found yourself looking him up and down while he trained on the deck or something like that; and it was nothing more than what you thought was just simply admiration. You just… stared sometimes, he was too beautiful to not ogle at.

“Are you even listening to me?!” Zoro asks, his voice sounding a bit frustrated now; and you look back over to him, well, at his eyes now that is.

The taller man is now standing directly in front of you, your face nearly touching his chest as he looks down at you.

“You know… You’re not very good at hiding the fact that you tend to stare… a lot,” His voice had suddenly dropped a bit lower, his big hands coming around your waist, laying on the small of your back.

Your eyes widen a bit in surprise at his sudden advances towards you, and you almost can’t believe this is real. Your gaze shifts down, your head tilted as your face heats up in embarrassment. You feel enclosed, with his arms around you like this.

“You really think I don’t notice the way you stare at me sometimes?” he teases, pulling you closer to him.

“I like it, when you get all shy about it, like this,” his words are a low whisper in your ear as he brings one hand up to your face, thumb on your lower lip and dragging down. He then grabs your chin between his fingers, and makes you look up at him.

He has a taunting smirk across his lips, like he knows exactly what he’s doing with you. His goal right now is to get you as flustered as possible, it seems.

“Too cute,” he seems to like what he’s making of you so far, and he swiftly captures your lips in a rough kiss.

His lips are warm, and his motions are quick and desperate; like he needs you as soon as possible. Yet, you kiss him back, trying to match his feverish lips.

Your body is now pressed against his bare, sweaty torso, and your hands are gripping his strong shoulders.

“Mm- You seem to be getting comfortable, though, little minx..” he growls in your ear after he pulls away from your lips, his hand that was on your back now moving lower to your ass, and grabbing at it through the fabric of your leggings. You let out a little whine, your body growing even hotter at his touch. You were still wondering if this was some odd dream you were having, but his sudden touch made you aware that this was very real.

Zoro is pleasantly surprised by your little noise of pleasure; but still, he’s persistent to get you to crack, to make you a whimpering, moaning mess for him. He craves it, and he needs to hear you make more of those sounds. So, his body up against yours, he intentionally presses the bulge of his hard cock up against your thigh, an almost evil grin across his lips.

You bite your lip at the feeling of his aching cock against you. You almost want to reach up and touch him, feel his chiseled, toned body along your hands, wrap your fingers around his big cock; but something inside is stopping you. You were just mouthing off to him a couple minutes ago, now you’re frozen still under his gaze and advances towards you; like a rabbit knowing it’s been caught by a wolf, a predator and his prey.

Zoro presses his bulge further into your thigh, and he leans down to your ear again.

“You want it?” He asks lowly, his hands roaming your body, and ultimately grabbing at your waist, squeezing a bit.

Shyly, yet eagerly, you nod, and let out a “yes.” Your voice is a bit louder than you expected it to be, and Zoro seems happy at your agreement, the same grin on his face.

“Down,” he instructs simply, and you obey, quickly getting down on your knees in front of him. You look up at him, his clothed cock in front of your face as you await his next move.

He looks you up and down, admiring the beautiful sight of you kneeled in front of him. You’re so shy and timid right now, something he never expected out of you. Getting caught staring at him, admiring him, must’ve changed you for him in this moment; and he wants to take full advantage of it. He eyes your chest, the way your cleavage looks in the sports bra you’re wearing, and he feels his cock twitch in his pants at the sight.

“Take your tits out for me,” his voice is in that same low tone as he gives you simple instructions yet again.

Your face gets hot at his request, and you begin to pull down the straps to your sports bra, your breasts now exposed to him. He openly ogles you, biting his lower lip slightly, then, he begins to speak again.

“Good…” he almost groans a bit as he begins to work his pants off, stepping out of them and pulling his boxers off next. He’s huge, thick and long, a few prominent veins going up the side and bottom of his length. It’s intimidating, really, and for a moment, you’re not sure if you could take it all. Zoro seems to know what you’re thinking, as if he can almost see the look of slight fear in your face, in your eyes as you look up at him. He lets out a little laugh, placing one of his big hands on the top of your head.

“Don’t worry, you can take it, I’m sure,” he assures you, but his voice isn’t kind or sweet, almost contradicting the words he’s telling you. He pushes your head closer to his huge cock bobbing in front of your face, tempting you.

Your eyes flit from where his cock is in front of you, to up at him, and you give him a look of question, almost asking if it’s ok to touch him. He gives you a slight nod, and a bit of a chuckle at your need for assurance.

“Go on.”

With those words, you bring a hand up, wrapping your fingers around his thick shaft. Eyes locked on him as he stares down at you, you give a kitten lick to the swollen tip of him, and he shudders a bit.

“M-mm… Keep going, babe,” he tells you with a slight moan, his hand pushing your head further towards him.

You obey his words, and encase the tip between your lips, sucking gently. You start taking him in your mouth, inch by inch, slowly. It seems your slow movements aren’t enough for Zoro though, as his brows furrow and he grits his teeth.

“Fuck-!” he exclaims, pushing your head all the way down until your nose is touching the tuft of green pubic hair above his cock. He’s all the way in your throat, and you gag slightly as he begins to move your head for you.

He begins to fuck your face, his cock head hitting the back of your throat with each thrust he gives. Tears prick your eyes, drool beginning to drip from your lips as he sloppily and quickly fucks your throat with his massive girth. He keeps his eyes on you, and lets out a little chuckle at your current state. He brings his other hand to your face, wiping away a tear that has dripped down your cheek as he grins devilishly down at you.

“Sorry, you were going a bit too slow for me,” he teases. You want to roll your eyes at him, mouth him off again for being this way; but you can’t, not when he’s using your throat like a fuck toy. Hell, even if he wasn’t, you still couldn’t bring yourself to talk back to him.

You moan as he fucks your face and teases you, sitting there and taking all of it. His thrusts are rough, messy, and continue for a few minutes, until he pulls out from your mouth.

He looks down at you, his wet cock oozing with your spit after he’s thoroughly fucked your throat. Your head spins, your jaw is sore, and the heat of arousal burns between your legs.

“Make me cum,” He tells you roughly; and desperate for his orgasm all over you, you wrap your hand around his cock again. With your other hand, you grip his big, heavy balls; surely full of cum just for you. He grunts a bit at the stimulation.

“Mmh… Starting to break out of your shell a bit, huh?” His voice is a bit strained, likely due to how close he is to release now.

Your saliva on his length acts as the perfect lube, making your motions glide quick and easy over him as you give him a few firm strokes. He lets out another grunt, then a throaty moan.

“Agh- Fuck! Take it!” He growls, his cock spurting cum all over your face, neck, and breasts. He cums a lot, heavy loads being spread all over your skin as you pump his length through his orgasm.

He breathes and pants shakily, his cock still hard despite the amounts of cum he just squirted out. He looks down at you, a grin coming on his lips at the sight of your cum covered skin.

“You look cute like that,” he tells you, giving you a look over.

He reaches his hand down, and with two fingers, begins scooping up some of his cum from where it sits on your tits, and holds those same fingers out to you.

“Suck,” he commands simply, and you nod; opening your mouth and shutting your eyes, taking his thick fingers in your mouth and licking his cum from off them. His taste is salty, but you lick it all up nonetheless.

As he slowly pulls his fingers from your mouth, his smirk grows wider, and he reaches down and pats the top of your head, like a puppy.

“Good girl…” he praises, which you didn’t expect from him; but he thinks you deserve it after taking him so well. He figures now is time for your reward as well.

He gives his cock a few pumps with his hand, and looks back down at you.

“Lay on your back.”

You carefully lay down on your back on the mat beneath you, and Zoro is quick to get on top of you, spreading your legs apart as he holds your thighs. He swiftly removes your leggings and panties in one motion, pulling them off and tossing them on the other side of the training room. He looks down at you, a hungry look in his eyes, you’ve never seen such a look on him before. With your legs still being spread by his hands on your thighs, he moves his body to be in between your legs, both bodies touching now.

His cock is laying on your stomach, the tip touching your belly button. You don’t know how he’s going to fit, really; and you feel a bit nervous, but that isn’t going to stop you from doing this with him.

Your eyes flick up at the green haired man, seeing as he eyes your wet cunt, ready to take him whenever he decides to use you.

“Mm… So wet for me already, if I wasn’t so big, I wouldn’t need to stretch you out first, with how soaked you are,” he slowly drags the tips of his middle and ring fingers up and down your slit. He stops to rub at your clit for a second, though, feeling as you shudder and let out a breathy moan at the stimulation.

“Ooh, you’re so sensitive too,” he teases, absolutely eating up the sight of you so stimulated by his light touches. He might just have to make this a regular thing with you, he thinks.

You gasp a bit as he slips his two fingers inside of your drenched cunt, beginning to pump in and out. He’s trying to stretch you out just a bit; cause, while Zoro is mean and rough, and teasing, he’s not heartless, and he wouldn’t want to hurt you by forcing all of himself into you at once with no preparation.

His long fingers poke at your g-spot, and you clench around him, hips shuddering.

“Z-Zoro…” you whimper, feeling your tummy heat up as his fingers repeatedly hit your spot.

He smiles a bit when you call his name, he can see you’re starting to feel really good, and he can’t help but feel proud.

You’re a bit disappointed, a frown on your lips as he pulls his fingers out of you; but he’s quick to replace those fingers with his cock, sliding his tip against your slit slowly.

You let out a shaky breath as he does this, wanting him to just pound you until you’re screaming and whining already.

“You want me?” he taunts, his cock head still sliding up and down against your slit, rubbing at your clit to get you worked up.

You nod sheepishly, your face and body getting so hot and overwhelmed at the need for him, “Yes… Yes, please…” your voice is quiet, and so needy sounding.

“Aww, I guess… Since you asked so nicely, I’ll give you what you want,” and with that, he pushes the first couple inches of his length inside of you.

You let out a loud moan, his cock pushing even further inside of you, stretching you out to accommodate his heavy girth. He pushes your legs back far, your knees now pressed to your chest.

“Agh- Fuck… Nice and tight for me, hm?” He says with a bit of a groan, finally bottoming out inside of you.

You feel so full, so stretched out. It’s a bit painful at first, but the pain quickly subsides when he pulls out, then slams back into you. You let out a squeal in surprise and pleasure at the sudden movement.

He laughs a bit at your noises, beginning to thrust in and out at a hard and quick pace. Your walls feel nice and warm around him, pulling him in and not letting him go.

Zoro looks down at you, seeing your breasts bounce with each powerful motion of his strong hips, your expression one of pure pleasure. He instinctively picks up the pace, his desire for you turning even more carnal.

“God, you’re so fucking cute…” He growls lowly, “been wanting to fuck you like this for a while.”

His words make you hot to the core, your body feeling flushed; and his massive cock hammering into you at such a rapid pace doesn’t help the feeling burning inside of you, in fact, it only makes it worse.

The brute continues slamming into you at a brutal pace, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix with each deep thrust he gives. He has a bruising grip on your hips, fingers digging into the plush skin. The look in his eyes is dark and filled with lust as he pulls out of you, before slamming himself all the way back in again, pushing in to the hilt.

A yelp escapes your lips, and he notices your effort to attempt to cover your mouth so your loud sounds are slightly less audible. He chuckles, still slamming into you with that same rough pace he’s set.

“What? Don’t want the rest of the crew to hear you? To hear us? Is that it?” He leans down to whisper in your ear, and you clench around him at the thought of being caught. You shouldn’t like it that much, but when he says it like that, you can’t help it.

“Mm- You’re a dirty girl aren’t you? You wanna get caught? Hm? Want everyone to know I’m fucking you so good?” His thrusts speed with his low growls, and you reach your arms around him, nails digging into and scratching at his tanned, muscled back as a symphony of whines and whimpers emit from your mouth.

Zoro groans, breathing heavily as he works his cock into you faster and faster, deeper and deeper, his full balls slapping your ass with every movement.

“Ready to be my cumdump, sweet girl? Huh?”

You nod frantically, biting at your bottom lip and tightening up at the thought of his cum filling up your cunt and leaking out afterwards.

“Ah- Yes, yes please-!”

With that, Zoro grunts, burying himself in as deep as he can one last time as you feel a hot fluid leak inside of you.

Your eyes go back into your head, overwhelmed as he pumps his cum inside of you. You’re getting close to your own orgasm now, even closer now that Zoro has reached his hand down to rub your clit with his thumb. He knows you’re close by the look on your face, and despite the fact that he’s came already, he’s still fucking into you; making sure his cum is nice and deep inside of you.

“Come on,” He tells you through gritted teeth, “Let go.”

Your eyes shut tight, your arms outstretched above your head as you whine and squirm at the extra stimulation hes giving you, all while still hammering at your spot and fucking his semen deep into you. The feeling burning in your core builds up, only to unwind as you jolt your hips, and you gush all over his fingers, some of your release getting on to his pelvis.

“Oh, you’re a nasty little thing, aren’t you?” He chuckles deeply, pulling out of you with a moan.

You pant, your body feeling so hot and stimulated as he degrades you. Your legs feel numb, and wobbly; you don’t think you’ll be able to stand for a bit, so you just lay there on the mat for a minute.

You’re thoroughly fucked out, your head spinning as you catch your breath, Zoro’s sweaty body still hovering over yours.

He raises his head to look down at you, and he gives you a sly smile at the sight of your exhaustion. He lightly grabs your face, squishing your cheeks with one hand.

“I’ll be more gentle with you next time, promise.”

#zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro smut #one piece smut #mmmm sweaty zoro #my big stupid himbo i love him