#we gonna get a lil smutty here folks

[sirjacobthomaskiszka]

Keep Me Warm

jake kiszka x reader

warnings (minors dni, 18+ only or i’ll tell your mom. smutty smut smut, cockwarming, unprotected penetrative sex {wrap it before you tap it folks}, sort of soft dom jake, a lil fluff sprinkled on top)

“Fuck sweet girl, feel so fucking good wrapped around me like that.” You moaned at Jake’s words, too cock dumb to actually respond.

Jake was working you up to your third orgasm of the night. On your knees, chest pressed to the bed, the obscene slap of his skin on yours, listening to him huff out breaths as he works into you.

“Shit y/n, want you to ride me baby, wanna see your face when I make that pretty pink cunt come all over my cock.” Gently Jake pulls out, you whine at the loss of him inside your aching core. “Come up here baby.”

Jake settled himself at the head of your bed, you move to straddle him, watching as he grabs the base of his cock to guide himself back inside you, where he belongs. “Fuck Jakey, feel you so deep, you fill me up so good.” You begin rocking in Jake’s lap, the combination of his tip continually grazing that ethereal spot deep inside you and the friction of your clit against him, you’re quickly approaching your release.

Whining out to him, Jake let’s you know he’s close too, “Keep fucking yourself on my cock sugar, make me fill you up. Wanna see my cum dripping out of you.” Just like he asks you fuck yourself harder on him.

With a final rock of your hips you feel yourself let go, white bliss spreads behind your eyes, the clenching of your walls around Jake sends him over the edge with you. Wrapping his arms around you he pulls you down on to him, fucking into you as he works through his release. “Fucking take it all baby, milk me dry, shittt.” With a final thrust into you Jake stills, running his hands up and down your back. “You gonna hop off me sweet girl?”

Timidly you shake your head no, “Huh uh, wanna keep you inside me Jakey. Makes me feel so full, so whole when I can be this close to you.”

“Hmm fuck sugar, I could get hard again just listening to you talk like that. Swing your legs around and get comfy baby. You can keep me warm as long as you want.” You settle yourself around Jake, legs wrapped around his back, sat in his lap with his cock softening gently inside you. The feeling more intimate and sweet than anything. Having him close in such an innocently dirty way. Jake pulls a blanket around your shoulders and you tuck your head into his neck.

He gently sweeps your hair behind your ear, “What did you get up to today love?”

You hum into his dewy skin, “Not a lot. Missed you mostly, read a little and caught up on that show you don’t like. Thought about going down to the new record shop that opened across town but thought that we could make a date out of it instead.”

“I’d love that baby. The boys don’t need me in the studio tomorrow so we can get coffee and go in the morning, yeah?”

“That sounds perfect Jakey. Will you tell me more about the new album?”

You two stay tangled around each other, talking about anything and everything. Reveling in the closeness you get to share, a moment of intimate stillness within the whirlwind that is your shared life.

Shifting in his lap, Jake’s hand shoots to your hip, groaning deeply you feel him stir inside you. “Hmm that feel good Jakey?” You clench around him, earning another breathless moan from his sweet lips.

“Fuck sweet girl you have no idea. Your already so wet and warm for me, feels like heaven on me.” You start to rock gently, clenching every now and again as you feel Jake’s cock grow and start to throb within you.

“Not gonna take me long love, you feel too good.”

“Fuck, me either Jakey. Need you, need you hard.” With that Jake places a hand on your lower back and flips you both over, never breaking your connection. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull his head down to your neck. “Fucking give it to me Jake. Wanna come all over your cock again, wanna make a mess.”

“Gonna give it all to you sweet girl, gonna make such a mess of that pretty pussy.” Jake begins pounding into you, the headboard hitting the wall with every stroke.

“Fuck- Jake- uh fuck!” Reaching a hand down you rub tight circles onto your clit, bringing you closer to the edge, ready to fall over into the awaiting abyss with Jake.

“Yes baby rub that pretty pussy, come for me y/n. Need to feel you come for me baby please.” With his begging whines in your ear you free fall into your orgasm, clenching tightly around Jake, feeling him release into you again.

Out of breath you slowly float back into your body. Having held Jake inside you for so long had made you so sensitive your orgasm had hit you like a freight train. Pushing himself off you Jake finally pulled out, groaning again watching the mix of both your releases leak out of you.

Jake leans down to kiss you sweetly, “We should do that more often baby, that was incredible.” Brushing his nose gently against yours.

“Hmm I am more than happy to oblige Jakey, I already feel a little empty without you,” you hum to him. Dropping his head to your shoulder he grumbles, “You can’t say shit like that baby I am no where near ready for round three.”

He lifts away from you and off the bed and disappears into your shared bathroom, returning with a warm cloth to clean you up.

Pulling back the sheets you both climb under, Jake tucking you into his side, you both now fully content and satiated.

“Can we make waffles in the morning honey?”

“Of course sweet girl, we can make whatever you want.”

Snuggling in closer you both whisper your I love you’s and drift to sleep peacefully in each other arms.

#jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fanfic #greta van fleet #greta van fleet smut #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #danny wagner

[borispav]

After Amsterdam

Just a small piece on Boris and Theo’s time in Antwerp

Theo guesses he should’ve seen it coming.

In retrospect, it was practically inevitable. Though Boris’ loft was spacious, airy, they somehow always ended up brushing shoulders, never really standing or sitting farther from each other than arm’s reach. 

They fell into routine a little too easily. Functioned in tandem like they’d been living there for years, like there wasn’t a near decade pulling them away from the kids they used to be. 

Theo spends most of his time avidly trying not to think about Vegas, but Boris, of course, makes it almost impossible. 

Potter, remember when-

Hey, you know that time we-

Ah come on, I know you did not forget-

Theo didn’t forget, he remembers it all, and maybe even a little bit too well. Because now, with Boris seated happily on the kitchen countertop, feet swinging back almost childishly against the cabinets, it easily feels like they could be 15 again. He’s making dinner, at Boris’ request. They’d gone out the last two days, and so Boris had insisted Theo cook tonight, ‘just like old times’. He’d even had the entire fridge stocked for the occasion.

Theo dips a wooden spoon into the steadily boiling stew and begins to stir. He’d had to fish it out of an unopened box of utensils. Like most of the things in the flat it was new, untouched. Purchased to give off some sense of domesticity. 

Boris hums idly beside him, and Theo is thankful that, for once, he isn’t talking. The wordless silence is comforting to him, a type of peace he’d grown to miss. With Kitsey there’d always been a seemingly endless stream of chatter. Her voice, high and light, weaving its way around him incessantly. At least Boris understands when to stop. Knows when Theo wants to talk, and when he doesn’t. There isn’t much to say, anyway. They’d talked their mouths dry in the days prior, futilely attempting to color in the monochrome gap between them. Where had they been? What had they seen? What was different?                  Who was different?

But the time for those questions has finally faded out. Theo’s suitcase is packed. He leaves in the morning. 

So he keeps his mouth shut. Some part of him believing that if he starts talking, he won’t stop. That he’ll ramble on about endings, and patterns, and the universe repeating itself all over again. He’ll start thinking about goodbyes, and second goodbyes. About a stalled cab and a late night kiss. 

He’s not here to pick at scabs, tear open old wounds. Their business, as far as he’s concerned, is done. 

Boris takes the spoon from Theo and lifts it up to his mouth for a taste. 

“Is good,” he says, smiling. 

“No, it’s gotta cook a little longer.”

Boris rolls his eyes. “Longer? No no no, you overthink too much. Any more and is gonna burn.” He hops off the counter and turns off the stove, pulling Theo away from it by the wrist. Theo jolts at the touch. 

Boris asks him what’s the matter, but judging from the look in his eyes and the rise of his brows he already knows.

“Nothing,” Theo says, answering the question before Boris can, “let’s eat.”

After dinner they sit, wine-drunk and lazy, on the couch. There’s reruns playing on the TV, old movies which they watch in a dreamlike succession.      Wuthering Heights, Gone with the Wind,  It’s a Wonderful Life.                            Somewhere during the fourth film Theo realizes that he isn’t really paying attention anymore. He’s tired, bored. It’s probably close to 2 in the morning, he should be getting some sleep. 

He turns to tell Boris this, only to find that his eyes aren’t on the screen at all. They’re on him. 

Theo sucks in a breath, watching the way the blue glow from the TV plays at Boris’ face. He’s all shadows and sharp angles, a sight Theo knows all too well.

“Uh,” he says, slightly deterred by the fact that Boris hasn’t broken his gaze, “I think I should get some sleep.”

Boris yawns, lifts his arms above his head and arches his back against the pillows in a catlike stretch. “Oh?” He says, “You’re sleepy?”

Theo tries not to stare at Boris’ now hiked up shirt, the band of his boxers peeking out and above the waistline of his jeans. 

“Yeah,” Theo says, his own voice sounding high and faraway, “exhausted.”

“Mmm” Boris says, turning his body so that he’s facing Theo. He leans in, “You remember that night when-”

Theo zones out. 

They’re close. Close enough that Theo can smell the Merlot on Boris’ breath, sweet and heavy. He watches Boris’ lips move as he talks, shaping out words that fall on deaf ears. But it’s okay. Theo knows this story. He’s visited the memory more times than he can count. 

Boris smiles in a way that’s almost shy. Puts a hand on Theo’s knee and squeezes. “I missed this,” he says, “you.”

His palm is warm. Theo can feel the heat spreading through the fabric of his pants.                                                                                                               What are you- 

Theo means to say the words but they don’t make it past his lips. The television drones on, forgotten by the both of them. He reaches for Boris’ hand, intending to pull it off of his knee, but stops once his fingers graze the roughened skin of Boris’ knuckles. There’s something sharp and dizzying thrumming through him, tugging at something deep. 

Boris curls his fingers and Theo shivers. Puts his hand over Boris’ and drags it, slow and steady, up and over the rest of his thigh before finally letting it settle in the slim space between his legs.

“Potter,” Boris breathes. His eyes are hooded, his cheeks splotched crimson. 

Theo’s heart thunders in his chest.

“Bed,” he says, “now.”

They shoot up from the couch as one, a tangle of limbs interlocked, knocking against every piece of furniture that sits in their way. Boris has his hands beneath Theo’s shirt, is trying to tug it off him as they stumble toward the bed frame. Theo lifts his arms and Boris slips it off. They fall back against the sheets.

He doesn’t think. Not about about his suitcase, zipped up and ready by the door. Not about the plane tickets, or the ride home, or Kitsey or Pippa or anyone or anything else. 

This, this is the only thing that’s real now. Boris’ skin flashing, pale and white beneath the moonlight. His lips dragging against Theo’s neck, his jaw. His fingers hooking through the belt loops of his slacks. Their breaths come out in low, staccato, gasps. Theo’s hands roam the now bare expanse of Boris’ back. He can feel each and every knob of his spine.  

It’s been a long time since his body has pressed itself against something this rough. The rigid sturdiness of muscles that have been toned, strained. The push and pull that’s equal in strength- maybe even more so- to his own. He doesn’t miss the softness. The supple hills and valleys of all the people he’s touched before. 

Boris rolls his hips against him, desperate, hungry. Theo slips a hand through his curls and nods against his chest, the need pooling low in his belly all at once becoming too much to ignore. 

“Please,” Theo says. 

It’s all Boris needs.

When it’s over they lay, silent, in bed. Theo’s head is resting against the hollow of Boris’ neck. He can feel his pulse fluttering, light and fast. 

It’s dark, but he can still make out all the light marks littering Boris’ chest. There’s that freckle, right beneath his collarbone, that Theo remembers from when they were kids. And that scar, shaped somewhat like a T, that sits against his ribs. There are new ones too, of course. Different freckles that have surfaced over the years, with age. Foreign scars. A bruise blooming down low, by his navel.

He should’ve seen it coming.

Boris traces blind patterns onto the tip of Theo’s shoulder and Theo leans into the touch, allows himself to curl up closer, breathe in as much of this as he can. He doesn’t want it to be over. He wants this, all of it. He wants to find a home in the tangle of sheets, this mess of limbs. Because it’s safe. Because it’s Boris. Because, no matter what he tells himself, he knows he’s never going to know the map of anyone else’s body as well as he knows this one. 

The weight of the last few days washes over him like a wave crashing the shore. He eyes the bandages still wrapped tight around Boris’ arm, thinks about gunshots splitting open the night air, about fevers, and bloodstains, and unfinished notes. 

He lets his eyes fall close.

“Theo.”

The sound of his name pulls him back into attention. He looks up at Boris, who is trying to meet his gaze.

“Yeah?”

Boris’ hand stills on his shoulder. He worries at his bottom lip, his expression soft but unreadable. 

“You know,” he pulls in a breath, “you know I love you. Yes?”

The last half of the sentence comes out rushed, a tumble of words that bleed into each other, clumsy. Theo understands nonetheless, and the swarm of heat that creeps onto his cheeks reminds him of their nights in Vegas. He looks away. Tries to quell his breathing. 

Boris rambles. “I know, I didn’t say it before. Was bad of me. But I do, Potter, and you’re-”

“Shh.” Theo pushes himself up, levels his face with Boris’. He doesn’t want him to continue. He can’t continue. It’d just make things harder, and he isn’t ready for that. Boris eyes him warily, and Theo almost slips out a sigh at how beautiful he looks. Lips a swollen pink, raven curls falling over his face every which way.

He doesn’t want this to end. 

“It’s okay,” he says, pulling Boris’ face to meet his, “it’s all right. I love you too.” 

They fall into a kiss and Theo savors it. Loses himself in it because, for now, it’s all they can do. 

At least they have tonight. 

#we gonna get a lil smutty here folks #the goldfinch #theo decker #boris pavlikovsky #boreo #my writing

[reddeadrevival]

Can I request some headcanons with Javier and a fem!reader going undercover to rob a bank with the gang? Maybe they have to cause a scene/distraction? If you want you can make it a little fluffy/smutty😏😏

Please check if the ask box is open AND read my “What I write” post before sending in an ask. Thank you.

(A Purple heart means A LOT of Smut in this post)

“Talk Spanish to Me”

(I was gonna have the title be in Spanish but it didn’tflow and I wanted it to be like “Talk Dirty to me”)

…

Well, I know you said Headcanons but I gotinspired so here’s a lil short fic

Now, I don’t normally write full things in 2ndperson but I gave it a shot (if there’s a “her” or “she” inthere please let me know)

…

Pairing: Javier x Fem!Reader (sorry, it’s hard for me towrite gender neutral smut)

Warnings/Tags: Smut (Oral Female Receiving, unprotectedsex), Fluff, language (in Spanish tho)

Spanish via Google Translate. There’s a lot soyou’ll probably want to have a second tab open to translate.

Translated Version Here

You adjusted the hem of your blouse, morespecifically the part of your blouse that covered your pistol.

“You look fine, Chica, come on,”Javier urged as he waited a few yards away along the side of the bank withJohn, Bill and Arthur.

“I’m coming, hold yer horses,” youmuttered as you marched over.

“We good on the plan?” John asked.

“One distraction coming up, come along,perra,” Javier said with a playful smile.

“Hey, save the insults for the fakefight,” you said pointed at him with a playful glare.

“Sorry, cariño,”

“Let’s hope those Spanish lessons paidoff.”

“If not, I am going to be offended,”Javier said with mock sadness. You rolled your eyes and began to storm over tothe bank door with him. He slammed open the door causing everyone inside tojump. There were a few people either at the teller window or sitting nearby aswell as a single guard standing by the door. The two began to shout as theywalked passed the man, drawing his attention from the door.

“¡Maldición!” Javier growled.

“Estúpido idiota!” you spat.

“¿Soy estúpido? ¡Eres una putaperra!”

“¡Eres un maldito bastardo!” The guardapproached them and tried to get them to calm down.

“Folks!”

“¿Te das cuenta de que literalmentepodríamos decir algo y ellos pensarán que estamos peleando?” Javier asked,still using an angry tone to keep up the charade.

“Tienes razón. ¡Plátano! ¡Mono!¡Mapache!” you spat. Javier did his best not to crack a smile or burst outlaughing.

“¡Pareces loco!” he shouted as hethrew his hands up.

“¡Suenas caliente cuando hablasespañol!” you shouted and Javier quirked an eyebrow as he tried not tosmirk smugly.

Just then the guard got close enough for you tograb his weapon and a moment later the others burst in.

…

It was a successful take and the group split upwith their shares; you and Javier shared a horse for the getaway. You werestill far from camp but Javier stopped Boaz on the side of the road.

“Something wrong?” you asked.

“You really find it sexy when I speakSpanish?” he asked as he looked back at you. Your cheeks flushed and youavoided looking him in the eye.

“Yeah, so?” you asked, trying to brushit off. “Can we go?”

“¿Te prende?” he asked with a smugsmirk.

“Forget I said anything,” you tried asyou felt a smile pull at your lips.

“Lo hace, ¿no es así?”

“Shut up,” you hid your face againsthis back. He laughed out loud.

“Tú eres adorable.” You groanedagainst his back and he laughed some more. “Para que lo sepas, tambiéncreo que eres sexy cuando hablas mi idioma.” He turned his head in anattempt to speak in your ear. “¿Esto está haciendo algo por ti?”

“Sí,” you groaned.

“Ay, ojalá pudiera hacerte gritareso,” he purred in a low almost growl.

“Why don’t you?” You lifted your headto look at him and met his eyes. They seemed to look just as dilated as yourmust have been.

 …

And that’s how you came to be in the middle ofthe forest, Javier’s head between your thighs, your skirts bunched up aroundyour waist, as he devoured you. One of his hands stroked the inside of yourthighs while the other joined his tongue on the assault on your clit. Yourfingers weaved in his hair as your other reached up to the tree above yourhead. Your breath was coming out in short pants and your hips squirmed as hisfingers slipped into you, his lips sucking on that little bundle of nerves. Youcried out his name as your climax hit, hips convulsing as you held his head inplace; his tongue slipped inside you to taste you and he groaned against you.

“Tu sabor tan dulce,” he moaned.Your ears started to ring and your hearing actually faded out for a solid 30seconds. He kissed along your thigh as he smirked up at you before crawling upto peck your lips. His erection was straining against his pants painfully andhe let out a loud sigh of relief as he opened his pants and pulled himself out.Pre-cum was dripping from the tip and he gave himself a few strokes. He lookeddown at you a moment as he slowly ran his cock up and down the length of yourwarm soaking folds, covering himself in you. “Are you ready, miamor?”

“Please,” you begged. “I needyou,”

“How could I deny you, love,” hewhispered with a smile as he lined himself up. Your back arched as he pushed inall the way, bottoming out as he leaned over you. He caught your lips with hisas enjoying the feeling of you encompassing him. His hips began to move,slowly, pulling out so just the tip was in before pushing back in completely.He held your thighs against his as he looked down at himself leaving andentering you. You couldn’t help the moans leaving your lips as he filled youcompletely over and over. His forehead rested against your shoulder, his hotbreath hitting your skin in rapid bursts. He tilted his head and latched hislips onto the side of your neck. Teeth grazed the skin as a flick of the tonguesent shivers down your spine. His hips continued to roll against yours in anagonizingly slow pace. You wrapped your legs around his waist and dug yourheels into his back to try and make him go faster.

“Javier,” you groaned.

“What do you need, cariño?” hebreathed against your neck before kissing below your ear.

“You’re killing me; vaya más rápido, please.”

“Anything for you, mi querida,” hegasped as he suddenly bucked his hips. A small yelp left your throat as hesuddenly started at a much quicker pace, hips slapping against yours lewdly. 

“Ay, te sientes increíble mi amor. Tanbueno. So good. So good.” His teeth closed around your shoulder as hetried to muffle his moans. Fingers pressed into the skin of your thighs as heshifted you for a better angle. He began to ramble in Spanish as if thetranslator in his brain malfunctioned. “Tan bueno. Me llevas tan bien. Tesientes tan bien a mi alrededor. Tan cálido.” He groaned as he reached upa hand to fondle your breast. “Mierda!” He lifted one of your legsand bought it up over his shoulder, his lips pressing open mouthed kisses alongyour calf. The new angle cause him to hit just the right spot in you to makeyou clench around him. “Ven por mi, mi amor. Dejar ir,” he groaned.“Come for me,” he repeated. Your body shook against him as it hityou. He groaned as he felt your walls clamp down around him, bringing himcloser to his own release. His hips started to lose their rhythm and becomemore erratic. “Ay Dios!” His breath caught in histhroat. “¿Dentro? Can I come inside? ¡Por favor!”

“Sí! Oh, yes!” You squirmed beneathhim as he pounded into you relentlessly. His hips suddenly stilled againstyours; he pushed himself as deep as he could go as his climax hit. He gruntedas he gave a few last thrusts through his orgasm. His lips met yours and hegroaned loudly as he pulled out of you. He collapsed beside you, chest heaving,before he pulled you against him. “Eso fue increíble,” you said asyou smiled up at him.

“Alegra oírlo,” he said with achuckle.

Well, that was my first time writing smut for Javier. Hope you enjoyed! ^_^

(Master List)

#reddeadrevival #answered ask #smut #fluff #spanish #(which is probably wrong) #Javier Escuella #javier escuella x reader #rdr2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 #nsft