Prom? (Elvis Presley X Reader)

Ten: Where did you get that hedgehog?

Johnny: The small dutch boy you live with just gave it to me.

Ten: Yangyang? He's not- nevermind. Yangyang Why did you give Johnny your hedgehog?

Yangyang: He looked like he needed a hedgehog. I see it *touches Johnny's chest* in here.

Ten: Johnny why are you crying?

Johnny: I do need this hedgehog. I do. Thank you small dutch boy, thank you.

Cuff Burn ~ Bang Chan Smut

yo… this shit crazyyyy (long)// i didn’t know how to end it // the word fuck is used alot (edited to the best of my dumbass abilities) 

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Fandom: Stray Kids

Genre: Smut

Warning(s): female!reader (yikes my first female reader smut) // Christopher Bang in a cop suit // fuel for your sins // ft. Kun of WayV/NCT

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                 You didn’t mean to see it. You didn’t want the image going through your head the rest of the night, especially because it was Halloween and it was going to be a long one, and you definitely did not want to be heated like a fucking oven. You had just wanted to tell your roommate that you were going to run late to the party if he didn’t hurry up.

You didn’t mean to see it. But you had. 

Chan was styling his hair, pushing it back and running his fingers through it slowly. But that wasn’t what shocked you. It was the fact that he was shirtless, chest still glistening from the shower, with a pair of tight navy slacks on and a pair of handcuffs dangling from the loop. You sucked in a breath and inched away from the cracked door. Chan was dressing as a fucking cop. Out of all the possible costumes, he had chosen a cop. 

You pressed your back against the wall and took a deep breath.

It didn’t help that you were harboring the slightest bit of feelings for him. It only made everything so much hotter. It was like one of your wild fantasies coming true. Except, in reality, you knew that the night probably wouldn’t end the way you imagined. He’d probably end up going to some random persons house and sleeping with them instead, and you’d be stuck home alone, most likely trying to drink your problems away.

That’s how most party nights went. You didn’t think it’d be different just because it was Halloween. 

You looked down at you Stranger Things lifeguard costume, an actual excuse to wear swimwear because Johnny had a pool. And you were not going to pass up the opportunity to swim with Johnny Seo or his friends. You glanced back at Chan’s door. Then you huffed.

So what if Chan looked hot tonight? So what if you secretly just wanted to stay home and tell him to use the handcuffs on you? You knew there was a low chance of it actually happening, and if Chan got laid every single time there was a party, why couldn’t you? You smirked suddenly, fiddling with the whistle around your neck. 

It was your turn to get laid, and you didn’t care if it was with Chan or not. 

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Season 2 ep.6 of keeping up with the first order sneak peek

Piss Off Your Parents

Piss Off Your Parents Ship: BadBoy!Jungkook | RichGirl!Reader Description: Roommates!AU | BadBoy!AU | FakeDating!AU | In an effort to piss off your parents you move in with their worst nightmare- a boy with tattoos, a rock band, and an irresistible charm. Warnings: Dom!JK, Daddy Kink, D/S Themes, Spanking, Pussy Spanking, Intercourse, Rough Sex, Dirty Talk, Creampie, Fingering, Oral, Multiple Orgasms, Squirting, Size Kink, Hair Pulling, Praise Kink, Lots of Pet Names, Angst, Fluff, Drug Use (it’s just weed) Word Count: 16,411 A/N: Based on the song 18 by Anarbor! This ends my hiatus! I’ve been writing this for literal months so I hope you guys like it. Happy Early 3rd Year Anniversary!

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I Would Walk 10,000 Miles To You

Summary: The first thing you notice about Jake "Hangman" Seresin when he rings your doorbell at 1:30 in the morning is that no matter the time of day, he is devastatingly handsome. The second thing you notice is that he is absolutely smashed drunk. You know your hands will be full dealing with your brother's friend tonight. Well, you suppose he might be your friend too.

Pairings: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick 

Word count: 5.8k

Warnings: Falling in love with Brother's Best Friend (kinda), strangers to friends to lovers, pinning, Deployment, love confessions, Praise kink (if you squint), light angst, happy ending, Slight AirForce slander, drinking.

A/N: No use of Y/N this time. The readers' brother is also a pilot, call sign FreightTrain. I've been fiddling with this for a while, but I finally just decided to post it. I hope you enjoy it. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts and tags are always appreciated as well! I love reading through them.

You and Jake had become unlikely friends. Jake was one of your brother's college friends, having graduated from the Naval Academy the same year and then continuing to flight school together. You had met him once or twice over the years back then. You had always thought he was attractive, but you were just his friend's little sister. So, you never put much thought into him outside the occasional brief times your paths would overlap.

Then a few years later, when talking to your brother on the phone, you found out that Jake was on deployment, having a rough go of things. His dad couldn't be bothered or couldn't figure out how to send Jake any care packages, and his mom hadn't been in the picture for a long time, according to your brother.

Less than a week later, you had a care package on the way to him. You filled it with some generic snacks and items that your family had asked for over the years on their own deployments. You also sent a card with well wishes and signed it from your whole family.

At the last minute at the post office, you had thrown in a note to him asking that if he had any specific requests for items to please let you know, and then attached your phone number.

The thank you text message you received a few weeks later when he got the package was short, genuine, and sweet. You hadn't thought much more about it or him after that. Your goal had been accomplished of helping out your brother's friend and a serviceman.

Then a month or so later, you received a text from Jake again. It had been extremely tentative. He asked if you could send some specific sunscreen he liked, which didn't irritate his skin and a few other products. He also included that he would pay you for it and emphasized that if it was in any way an inconvenience, you didn't have to. Repeating at least twice to feel no obligation to fulfill the request.

What were you going to do, though? Leave this man alone without necessities that worked for him? Absolutely not. So you put together another care package with things he liked and started a new note on your phone titled Hangman's likes.

This time you signed the ‘thinking of you’ card from yourself. Hangman thanked you again once he got the package, asking to PayPal you the money, but you refused. Jake didn't like that, and it led to you having a playful argument. It was the first time he had actually called you on a deployment. You had answered the call, unsure, having forgotten what his voice had even sounded like after the years since you had a conversation with the man. Those long past meetings had been minimal interactions to start with.

"Hello?" You asked hesitantly, not sure the call wasn't a butt dial.

"Hello there. How are you?" His voice was quiet and deeper than you had remembered it. There was a slight crackle to the line, something not uncommon over long-distance wifi calls like this.

"Hi, Hangman. I am well. How are you doing? Holding up, I hope?"

"Yeah, I'm doing okay over here. A lot better now that you sent me all the good stuff."

"Well, my family and I want to help support you in any way we can. I promise it's not an inconvenience at all. I understand how hard it is what you're going through." You trailed off, not entirely sure what else to say.

"I really appreciate it, but I know how much everything costs. So, you need to let me pay you back." His voice was still kind but had a stern undertone like he wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"Absolutely not."

"I will get info from your brother," he all but growled the threat.

"I will tell him to not give it to you," You quickly reply. He huffed in frustration hearing that made you laugh.

"That's not very fair," Jake complained to you.

"Sorry, I'm not big on fairness when someone needs something," you told him kindly. You ended up talking for fifteen more minutes, asking about other things he might like in a care package, with him trying to evade your questions.

You told him you had to go, and he thanked you once again for being willing to support and help him out. He also threatened that he would find a way to pay you back once again. You found it hard to stop grinning after the conversation.

Knowing products only last so long, you set up a regular schedule to send Jake some items. Like clockwork, you would get thank you calls from him and harassment on how he could pay you back. Jake would also ask about your life, seeming genuinely interested. The conversations started to vary the more you talked. Your cards in each of his care packages became more personalized, beginning to fill with inside jokes.

At the end of that deployment, you felt an odd mixture of sadness and happiness. Of course, you were glad Jake would be back stateside and on regular duty, but it also seemed like the most obvious natural conclusion of this odd friendship that had developed.

For Jake's last care package, you filled it with stuff that would be most useful for traveling back to the United States. It was also the first care package you hadn't gotten a thank you call for since the initial one. 

Hangman minding his manners, had at least sent you an appreciative text.  It felt like a nail in a coffin moment. You had to fight off an abysmal mood for the rest of the week, reminding yourself that you were only helping your brother's friend out. It was never any more than that, and it never would be. Telling yourself that only helped so much, though.

You call Jake for the first time, upset almost two months later. You had opened your mail to find a letter with crisp blocky lettering giving your name and address. The return address was one Jake Seresin, with a US address you didn't recognize. Inside was a beautiful thank you card filled with Jake's same neat handwriting. It had a heartfelt thank you for what a difference you made on his deployment. It made your heart flutter.

What did not make your heart flutter and instead actually made your blood boil was the amount of money that had been stuffed into the card. Inside the card were way too many hundred dollar bills lined up and, on top of that, a visa gift card.

You were clicking the call button on his contact before you even made it back inside the house. The phone rang and rang. When he did pick up, his voice was crisp and business-like. It was almost unnerving to hear him so clearly, after being used to crackly spotty calls.

"This is Lieutenant Seresin."

"Tell me, did you always have this much audacity, or did you learn it in the academy?" You asked him, voice dripping with sarcasm. There was a long pause from him before he started chuckling.

"Well, hello to you too, Darlin. I haven't heard from you in a while."

Your stomach did not flip at the nickname; there was no possible way. You almost had to pinch yourself to focus back on the conversation.

"That isn't an answer, Hangman. You know it is not safe to send this much money in the mail. Plus, you know I didn't want to be paid back!"

"I knew if I wrote a check, you wouldn't cash or deposit it," he says. His voice is still teasing, and he is clearly enjoying one-upping you."

"I am sending this back to you."

"Absolutely not." The teasing in his voice was less present now. "If you don't want to see it as paying you back, fine. Then just look at it as a thank you for being one of the only things keeping me sane during deployment."

You sighed heavily into the phone, but your anger waned at his claim that you helped him. The silence stretches a little, and you feel acceptance slowly filling you.

"I am just not comfortable with it. You know there are other ways to say thank you. I would have been delighted with just a card." You told him.

"Oh really?" Jake asked, that amused tone coming back again. "What would some acceptable forms be then?"

"It's too late; you chose money."

"I'll brainstorm some other ideas then."

"No, you can't do anything else now."

He doesn't say anything to that, only hums into the phone.

"I'm so sorry to call you out of the blue like this. Are you busy?"

"No, not busy. I just got home from work,” he tells you.

"How is being back in the States?"

"Weird," Jake says honestly.

Before you know it, you two talk for another hour, and Jake feels like your friend again. You two talk every once in a while, and you finally start to think you might actually be real friends.

During his next deployment, you don't even hesitate to start sending him care packages again. Jake is just as thankful; each time he gets your care package, flowers are delivered to your door within a day or two. Then written thank you cards come at a much more delayed pace, postage from the other side of the world accompanied by Jake's clean handwriting and sweet messages. You much prefer it over the money he sent the first time.

The pattern continues through the whole deployment and two TAD also. This time your friendship never waned, only growing stronger. You still get flutters when talking to him sometimes. It never ventures beyond that, though, and you eventually give up trying to be flirty or hopeful something would develop between you two. Jake never seems interested in you that way, and sometimes it feels more like he sees you as a little sister than even a friend, which is a low blow.

However, it really starts to reach a breaking point when Jake excitedly tells you that he is getting restationed to a naval base in your area. The concept of being an in-person friend with Jake is foreign. At first, you aren't sure you can even handle it. Seeing his handsome face, wanting him, knowing what the products you have bought for him over the last two years smell like on his skin. Seeing how his eyes crinkle when he smiles and matching up his facial expression to different tones of voice you are familiar with, it is just as difficult as you imagined it would be.

You had tried to distance yourself initially, rationalizing that you were too busy to fit a new friend in your life. However, this never worked with him; he would go above and beyond to accommodate whatever weird schedules you would throw at him. This is how he became more of a best friend to you. The whole situation really came to a boil on a Friday night in August.

The first thing you notice about Jake "Hangman" Seresin when he rings your doorbell at 1:30 in the morning is that no matter the time of day, he is devastatingly handsome. The second thing you notice is that he is absolutely smashed drunk.

"Jake?" You ask him like he might disappear and this is just a dream.

"Hello, Darlin," His accent is three times as thick after drinking, and he sways a little where he is standing. His hair was messy, and his eyes had a glassy glazed-over look to them.

You quickly look around, trying to figure out how he got here. There wasn't a car in sight, though, which was somewhat of a relief. At least you knew that he hadn't driven by the lack of his truck.

"What are you doing here?"

"I wanted," he starts to say but then abruptly snaps his mouth closed. His face scrunches like he is trying really hard to concentrate. He closes his eyes for a moment, and when they open again, he looks a bit like a lost puppy. "I don't know."

You sigh and wrap your arms around yourself, throwing open the door and ushering him into the house. "How about you come in?"

A grin instantly split his face, and he walked through your door, brushing extremely close to you, ignoring the ample space you left for him to go through the door. He went to your kitchen and slumped into one of the bar stools at the breakfast bar. You closed the front door, locking it before following after him.

"How did you get here?" You asked.

"I walked."

"You walked from where?" You were wracking your brain, trying to think of anywhere close by he could have been and gotten this drunk.

"Was at Red Brick Rhythm," he tells you, his face propped up on one of his hands, his elbow planted firmly on the counter. Jake doesn't stop looking at you either, his eyes following your every move.

You fill up a glass of water and pour in some liquid IV before handing it to him, trying to place the club in your mind. Then you gasp, suddenly remembering where it is. "Jake, that's like five miles away."

He hummed noncommittally and took a big gulp of the water. He set it down half full now and was looking at you like he was waiting for some sort of prize at his effort. You are half tempted to tell him he is a good Lieutenant, but instead, you try to escape his gaze by looking in your fridge.

"Are you hungry?"

“I'm always ravenous, sweetheart," he tells you and winks. Jake makes you laugh, and you start to examine the contents of your fridge.

"What do you want then? I'm not sure I have much."

He didn't answer you, so you turned to find him staring at you again. Jake responds in a dead serious voice, ”I'll take anything you give me."

You sighed since that didn't help you but watched him fight to keep his eyes open and decided to throw some tater tots in the Airfryer real quick.

"No complaining with what you get then."

"Yes, ma'am," he responded, nodding his head slowly. The action made him close his eyes and take a deep breath.

You parked yourself against the counter, leaning back against it to examine him. "How are you feeling? Okay, do you need anything?"

His eyes open, and he slowly blinks at you a few times, and a severe frown suddenly mars his features. You want to run your fingers over the crease in his eyebrows and the shape of his lips until he smiles again. You almost have to physically shake your head to dislodge the thought from your brain.

"Did you have a date tonight?" He blurts out as if he finally noticed the makeup on your face and your hair that is still styled. He had caught you before you were ready to wash off the night. You hesitate for a moment, not sure you actually want to talk about it, but decide to tell him. You don't want Jake to think you couldn't find anything better to do on a Friday night than stay home.

"Yeah, I did."

"How was it?"

"It was good," you lied. It had actually been terrible.

The man you met from Hinge had shown up late and ditched the bill on you, unwilling to split it as you requested. On top of that, he had asked you three whole questions before he went on a rant for the rest of the date about what he thought women should and shouldn't be doing.

The lie you told Jake didn't ease the frown on his face, though, or the darkness in his eyes. His free hand drums against your countertop in a light staccato, drawing your eyes towards them and his academy graduation ring. "Couldn't be too good if you answered the door, and you're here alone."

"Who says I'm here alone?" You ask, raising an eyebrow. "There could be a satisfied man in my bed right now. Or maybe we did the deed, and he is already on his way home."

"You wouldn't have answered the door," Jake says slowly. You can see his drunk mind doing mental gymnastics at the possibility you presented to him. However, the severe look on his face eases significantly after that. "And you don't look satisfied, Darlin."

"I don't look satisfied?" you question him. This line of conversation was quickly entering a place you two had never gone before. "And you would know what that looks like, Hangman?" You tease him.

"I could make you very satisfied. No sane man would let you out of bed once he had you there, let alone this early at night. With your pretty little mouth still looking in perfect shape, I bet you didn't even make it to second base."

His damn fingers hadn't stopped their drumming on the counter, and suddenly they were the only thing filling your thoughts about how they would feel against you, in you. He also looks distracted, though, staring at you again. You bite your lip, trying hard to clear your mind to figure out how to redirect this conversation.

"Are you doubting my capabilities to satisfy you?" He questioned your words catching up with him. He stood up from the stool he had been sitting on, looking much steadier on his feet than when he showed up at your door.

"Don't think I could ruin that pretty makeup, tangle your hair, eat you out until you cried? Make you beg for me? You doubt I could make you forget your own name? Then put you back together again?" Every fiber of your being knew he could probably do every one of those things and not even put in much effort.

"No, I don't doubt your capabilities. Just…" you finally choked out and trailed off, feeling like there suddenly wasn't enough oxygen in the room.

"Just what?" He asked you, and his voice was sinfully deep.

"Just that you don't know when I look like that." You supply, the words were stilted and awkward.

"What if we found out together then? Me what you look like. And you, what it feels like."

He made to move closer to you, but you instinctually held up one of your hands, and he stopped freezing in place. You finally averted your gaze from him to the Airfryer dinging. You grabbed a plate and threw the tater tots on it, collecting some condiments from the fridge so Jake would have options.

He was still standing in the same spot and hadn't moved any closer in the process it took you to get the food. Jake’s bright eyes burning into your back.

You can't quite quell the heat simmering in you from the line of conversation. The sinful tone of Jake's voice. Of course, those were all things you wanted from him, things you imagined. But that wasn't realistic, and he was drunk. You were his friend's little sister, probably his most robust support system during deployments, his close friend and confidant. One drunken tumble in the sheets wasn't worth risking that.

You sigh heavily, setting the plate down on the counter where he had been sitting. "Sit down, Jake, and eat."

He follows orders well because, of course, he does. He dips a tater tot in some of the homemade BBQ sauce he had given you a few months ago and shoves it into his mouth. Jake has that same look he did with the water, which he is once again sipping, like he is looking for praise. However, under that, he looks a little defeated, his shoulders hunched slightly.

"Listen," you start slowly, trying to craftily pick your words so no more damage can be done. "You are drunk, and I was just teasing. It's nothing, Jake."

"I'm not too drunk," he defends himself, munching on another tot.

"You're sloshed," you say, pointing a finger.

"I am not sloshed, sweetheart. I walked all the way here. I drank water. My words aren't slurring." All of these were valid points, and his drunk mannerisms were improving by the minute. However, he was still inebriated. He had been drinking tonight, and you could use that as a defense.

"Doesn't change that you have been drinking, Jake."

He then dropped a tater tot that was halfway to his mouth and glared at you. He had never glared at you before. You weren't sure how to handle this situation. Instinctively you flinched a little at the harsh look, which lasted for a minute longer before he dropped his head low and stared at the plate.

"Am I just your pity, friend?" He asked you quietly.

"What? No, of course not!"

"I know I'm not the only one of Freight's friends you have sent care packets." He said using your brother's call sign, which made your eyebrows raise. Jake had known your brother, FreightTrain, since well before that was his call sign and they went to flight school together.

"Of course, I help support some of them when y'all are deployed. I am literally in the American Legion Auxiliary, you know," you said, shrugging like it wasn't a big deal.

"You send Bradshaw care packages," Jake said, the bitterness in his voice unmistakable. "He told me about it. "

You glared at him then, not about to put up with him being jealous over something like that.

"And so what if I do? Rooster is my brother's friend, just like you. And the man is an orphan. Who else is going to send him packages?"

"He is a grown man who can take care of himself."

"The same can be said about you, Jake."

He huffed, and that annoying crease in-between his eyebrows deepened along with his frown. His bottom lip caught in-between his teeth, biting it a few times in frustration before letting go.

"Do you want a list of all the people I send them to? I don't understand your issue here."

"The issue is," Jake clenched his fist and jaw before growling out the rest of his sentence, "I'm not just Freight's friend to you! We are more than that."

"Are we?" You ask him quietly, not knowing that was actually true.

Silence hung in the air between you while you waited to see if he would fill it. Waiting for Jake to reassure you that no, of course, y'all were more. That he cared about you as much as you cared about him. That you weren't just a convenient and useful person in his life. That you could have your beautiful friendship and so much more. However, instead of giving you those reassurances, Jake decided to finish his water and stand up again.

"I'm sorry for bothering you tonight, Ma'am. It won't happen again."

"Jake, no," you said softly, being the one who moved towards him now. "Stop. Where are you going to go? It's the middle of the night. You can stay here and finish eating."

"I can't impose more than I already have, Ma'am."

"Stop calling me Ma'am," You snap at him, already feeling the hurt of this encounter ringing through your veins.

"I can't stay here," Jake told you, and you were just thankful he didn't attach Ma'am to the clipped sentence this time.

"Well, this is me temporarily waiving my third amendment rights. Okay?" you say gently, pleading with your eyes. You were reeling from this interaction. Part of you still felt charged by his suggestive words of what he could do to you. Part of you was desperately worried you had somehow messed up your friendship. Then there was part of you that was confused about this jealous problem he seems to have with you sending care packages to other people.

"No, not okay."

"Not okay?" You parrot back.

"Do you know why I walked all the way here?" He asked you, his tone dead serious, and the glaze that had been there in his eyes when you first opened the door was almost entirely gone.

"Because you couldn't remember anywhere else to go?"

"No," he said calmly. "I came here tonight because I was drunk, and the only person I wanted to see was you. I always want to see you. No matter how far away you are, my feet are begging me to walk towards you: from down the road, the other side of the country, the middle of the ocean. You are my soul's compass point now.

"Normally, I can resist. I can act like I'm just your friend or your brother's friend. That I was just assigned this base randomly, without any subtle and insistent requests to my superiors for reassignment here. I can pretend that I don't have every single one of your cards saved. I have so much control all the time, but I am so tired. And tonight I was drinking, then I just couldn't stop my feet anymore from walking here, to you."

Every possible thought in your brain suddenly ran to the exit. The only thing occupying your mind was the look of pure sincerity on Jake "Hangman" Seresin's face while he poured his heart out.

"Jake," you whispered, taking a few steps toward him. This time, however, he was the one who stopped you, holding up his hand.

"I've never felt like I wasn't good enough before. Maybe a bit when I was younger, but not since I got over all my childhood bullshit and went to USNA. Definitely not since I figured out I'm actually the best at something as a pilot in flight school. But now I can't escape the feeling. I run the numbers all the time. I try and figure out if I have interpreted the signs wrong. I just can't wrap my mind around why I'm not good enough for you."

Jake might as well have taken a knife out of the block sitting by your stove and stabbed you. That would have hurt less than the tight feeling in your chest hearing him admit he felt insufficient. Jake's posture, the way he shrunk into himself, was wrong. He refused to meet your eyes now. It was all wrong, so incompatible with the man you knew Jake Seresin to be. He looked like he was about to keep going, but you didn't think your heart, which had just ripped itself into pieces, could handle hearing anything else.

"Enough," you growl out, slapping your hand down on the counter. "I won't hear another word of this." That just seemed to make Jake shrink more into himself, and he looked seconds away from hightailing it out of the door.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves and make a fully conscious effort so that your voice came out kind and caring. "You are worthy, Jake. I am ashamed if, for some reason, I have contributed to making you feel like you aren't."

"That's not enough to make you love me," he whispered, still not looking at you.

"Look at me," You begged. His eyes remained on the abandoned plate, so you repeated your request just as softly. Finally, when those sea glass eyes poured into yours, they were filled with hurt and panic. You tried to find the words to adequately say how you felt, the words that could make him understand the situation you were in.

"I love you too much to love you, Jake." You immediately wanted to stick your foot in your mouth hearing the words out loud.

"What does that mean?" He asked, which, to be fair, was a valid question.

"It means I care about you too much. It means you are too special to me. You are too good of a friend to try and fuck it up by adding more. I have to have you in my life. I won't lose us just because we decide to have sex or try something else, and it doesn't work out. It could never be worth it enough to even entertain losing you."

"Well, I love you too much to keep being your friend. I can't hear about your dates or watch you care about someone else. I can't be your friend anymore, pretending I'm not in love with you. It would never be genuine, and you deserve more than that."

Tears spring up in your eyes at his words, and your hands clench into fists. The only thing that stops you from sobbing is the steady breaths you are reminding yourself to take. "Then I guess we are at an impasse."

"This is the end then," Jake's voice breaks when he says end. You can't hold back the tears anymore; all it takes is two blinks, then they slide down your cheeks in fat drops.

"Don't say that," you beg him.

"I don't know what else to say."

"Take it back, say that you are drunk. That you don't love me. That I'm your friend's annoying little sister, who you promised to keep an eye on. Tell me you aren't leaving me. Tell me something that will fix this between us."

Silence stenches between the both of you again. Tears keep falling down your face, your eyes were begging Jake for comfort, but they only meet the steady resignation in his.

"I hate seeing you cry." He finally utters, which just makes you cry harder.

"Please," you didn't know what you were asking him for, though. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to self-soothe and find some form of comfort. Jake continued staring at you. He made a micromovement like he was going to come comfort you at least twice but stopped himself each time.

"I'm going to go." He gave you one final look and spun on his heel towards your front door.

You only let him get to the hallway, where he originally kicked off his shoes and was starting to shove them back on his feet. You caught his arm, wrapping your hand around it, stopping his movements.

"Don't do this. I love you."

"You're breaking my heart," he whispers, covering your hand with his own. Jake's USNA ring felt cool against your flushed skin.

"If I let you have me, will you stay?"

"No, not now that I know you don't want me."

"I never said I didn't want you," you retort, squeezing his arm a little.

“No. I could have bared simply not being enough or that you found me unattractive. What you told me was worse."

"I can't lose you over this. Not over drunken words and feelings."

"I'm not drunk," he growled out with a steel edge to his voice. "I'm not even a lick beyond stone-cold sober anymore. So stop implying my words and feelings are anything beyond genuine. I ain't asking you for tonight, sweetheart. I was here asking you for forever."

God, you knew that was what he was asking for, but that only made it so much scarier. His hand started to slip from where it covering yours. You twisted your hand to catch his fingers in yours. Ever so slowly, you brought it closer to you and brushed your lips over his knuckles. Jake's eyes were tracing your actions watching intently. When your lips touched his skin, he audibly gasped. The intake of breath was so minimal you wouldn't have heard it if you hadn't been standing so close.

"My date was terrible," you whispered to him, not letting go of his hand and holding it close to yourself. Jake raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything, so you just continued on. "They always are bad, even when they should be good, because they are never with you. And I also have kept all of your thank you cards. I've dried every bouquet of flowers you sent to me, so I wouldn't ever have to throw them out.

"I dream about you and think about you all the time. I didn't even want to be friends when you first moved here, because I was already more than in love with you from texts and phone calls. The first time I smelled your aftershave, which I had bought you, on your actual skin, I wanted to jump your bones. You didn't make it easier for me, Jake, looking like you were crafted from marble by an artist. And then I found out you tip servers well. I learned you are just as funny and kind in person as you were on the phone. An accomplished, decorated Naval officer, giving me any time of day even as a friend still seems ludicrous. You are too good to be true and certainly too damn good for me, Jake Seresin."

His pupils were blown wide, and his mouth open just the tiniest bit. He leans forward, you are fully expecting him to kiss you now, but instead, his forehead presses into yours. It's a grounding feeling, the weight of skull against yours, your breath mingling. It reminds both of you that this is real. His free hand comes to cup your cheek pushing away the stray tears still clinging to your cheeks. Your eyes pouring into each other, hardly even blinking.

"I can be yours then?" he asked when your breathing had evened out.

"You already are mine. You've been mine for a long time, haven't you?" You reassured him and asked him in the same breath.

"Yes. I've been yours. Always yours," Jake muttered lowly.

"Good. You are so good. Too good." You praised him, and his face split into a grin, and you were tempted to break the moment you were having and kiss him silly.

"Will you let me love you then?" He asked you a moment later.

"Yes, but it won't be easy," you warn him.

"If I wanted anything easy in life, I would have joined the Air Force." Before the joke even fully settles, or you have a moment to defend the Air Forces' honor, Jake's lips press against yours. The way his mouth feels against yours is even better than you had imagined.

You invite him to your bed, but he refuses to sleep with you, even if it is just sharing a bed, before at least one proper date. You try to fight him on it, but Jake says he can't be anything but a proper gentleman. You make up the couch for him, taking too long to tuck the blanket around him because you keep getting distracted by kissing every inch of his face. Finally,  you go to bed when you can't stop yawning, realizing it is past three am.

In the morning, you wake up sure the night before had been a dream. However, you are proven wrong when you make your way out of your room. There you find Jake shirtless in the kitchen humming to the music he has playing on his phone, flipping pancakes and bacon. The sight and scents combined literally make your mouth water.

"Can this count as our first date?" You ask him before even saying good morning. The laugh it prompts in him is warm and fills the whole room before settling your chest. You know it's a sound you never want to stop hearing.

☁︎ ᴇᴛᴇʀɴᴀʟ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍꜱ ⋆⁺₊⋆

a/n: should I write more things like this??? synapsis: after falling into a coma you find yourself stuck in the dreaming and in love with the Lord of Dreams, and when you eventually awake you leave him in despair. warnings: hot and heavy makeout sessions......(i tried y'all😭) not proofread or edited pt2

☆.｡.:*

Years had gone by, and many seasons had changed. But you were still injured. You lay motionless in your hospital bed. Peace was drawn on your face. Your mother and father had withered and aged, Your siblings and friends had empty hope that you would make it. But they could never bring themselves to pull the plug. That’s how it was in the waking world. However, in the Dreaming it was different. Your face had life and color, and your smile was brighter than a million suns. And all signs of sickness left your body. You were walking, running even dancing. It truly was a dream you never wanted to wake up from. But alas all good things must come to an end. 

The first time you and Morpheus met in the dreaming,he was awkard. You had wandered into the palace library and met the lovely Lucianne. You were quite confused, you remember your eyes going heavy after being placed in the hospital and your chest tightening and then here you were. The librarian was nice and sat you down. She told you all about the dreaming and reassured you that you would awake in a few hours when morning came. So you sat and enjoyed the day, the library was magnificent. It really took your breath away. Its large shelves filled with books could only found in a bookworms dream. You wandered around the library not wanting to bother Lucianne. Your look for a familiar book, any familiar book. A surge of happiness runs through your body as you finally find a familiar title, Romeo and Juliet. It wasn’t one of you favorites but it was familiar so you picked it up off the shelf. It seemed to be freshly printed. The spine was crisp and untouched.

“Lucianne.” deep mellow voice calls out,

“I think she went out for a moment.”  you reply softly, your head swivels around trying to find the source of the voice.

“I beg your pardon-” you finally see the man walk out from behind the book shelf infront of you,

“Who are you.”

The man was very pale and had messy hair as dark as molasses. You quickly tell him your name and greet him holding out a hand,

“Whats your name?” You gently ask

“Morpheus.” He leaves your hand hanging until you eventually drop it. It was very awkward. The silence made you squirm under his gaze. Just as you were about to open your mouth to say something to ease the silence Lucianne barged in,

“Lord Morpheus-” her voice trailed off as she saw the two of you,

“I see you’ve met our new guest.”

His gaze shifted to Lucianne,

“What do you need me for.” they both walked away from you. Leaving you with the comforting silence of the books. 

After that occurrence, he would see you around every corner of the palace. You were like a curious mouse, looking at every crevice. Running your hand on every solid object. Time had passed and you should have awoken by now. But here you were, still in the dreaming. This predicament seemed to alarm not only Lucianne but also Morpheus. They had their fair share of humans who fell asleep for months even years but never usually were lucid, or conscious of the fact that the dreaming was there. Nevertheless, there was nothing they could do now. You were stuck in the dreaming whether you liked it or not. 

Many weeks had passed since you first entered the dreaming. You had already gotten bored of being confined to the palace, you didn’t even get to sleep in the dreaming. It was eternal morning. You had gotten to the point in your life where you were begging Lucianne to help her with her work, but she would only shoo you away.  A huff left your lips as you sat on the large staircase in front of the large palace doors, your knees up to your chest as you buried your face in your legs. You wanted to wake up. You were going insane due to boredom, you had read so many books that your brain physically hurt to see letters on a page, and the smell of the books made you queasy. You craved human interaction, physical affection, and adventure. Lucianne was working 24/7 and Morpheus was out of the question. After your first meeting you hadn’t spoken to him again, he was too odd for you to socialize with. At that moment you heard the large doors creak open and footsteps tap on the floors. You knew who it was but kept your head down. 

Morpheus kept moving until he reached the top of the stairs where you sat, slumped over. He wouldn’t lie, he felt for you. Being confined to the dreaming must be agonizing for you. He wished to relieve you of that burden even for a few moments.

“Would you like to go walk in the gardens?” Your head snapped up to where he stood next to you

“Yes please.” your eyes twinkle pleadingly

He leads you out the palace doors and into the flourishing gardens located behind the palace. The sun gleamed down onto you for the first time, it felt so pleasing and euphoric. Morpheus watched as you observed every flower and plant with awe. It was amusing to him, watching you gawk at unknown flora.

“Are those fruit trees!” You exclaim turning around

He nods and gestures for you to go explore. And you did.

“I didn’t know the dreaming had fruit trees.” You strolled shoulder to shoulder with Morpheus,

“The dreaming has anything anyone could dream of.” 

“That's amazing.” 

He felt a sense of pride at your praise for his domain. 

“May I eat one?” Your fingers point to the dangling juicy red apple.

“You do not need to ask permission for every movement you make in this realm.” He grabs the magnificent fruit and hands it to you to devour. You weren’t hungry but you ate it, the sweet taste invaded your tastebuds and drove you to feel ecstatic. Maybe you were wrong about Morpheus, he seemed to care more than he liked to show. 

“Thank you Morpheus.” your smile pierces his heart, when was the last time a human smiled so gratefully at him? He could feel his lips curve,

“It is no problem, the gardens are yours to roam.”

Your heart swelled with joy,

“But what if I wish to roam them with you, would that be permissible.” 

“Of course, I would be more than willing to keep you company.”

Your smile only widened, Life in the Dreaming might not be so bad.

For the next month, Morpheus took you out into the gardens every day without fail. Somedays you would go fruit picking or have a picnic. Other times you would make a pie or a fruit-flavored pastry and bring it to him in his throne room. You two became very close in a short period of time. You might have even called each other friends. But I hardly think friends suck each other's faces in the gardens. But there you two were, smushed against an apple tree your mouths locked onto one another. The kiss was hot and heavy, your teeth clashed and your tongues invaded each other's mouths. Even the sun wanted to secrete behind the clouds at that act of indecency. Your hands grouped every part of each other's bodies as if you wanted to tear each other's clothing off. Only after you have to pull Morpheus off your body could you catch your breath. A dopey smile was planted onto your face as you watched his chest heave. He looked like a mess, his hair was more tousled and messy than usual. His clothing was wrinkly and he had love bites on his pale neck. Some old and some newer ones growing in hue. 

“We really should go back inside,” you say after finally catching your breath,

“ Do we really?” Morpheus challenges leaning his face closer to yours, his short breaths hitting your lips

“I guess not.” Once again the messy kiss fest began,

One might wonder ’how did this start?’. It happened to start after the fourth week of Morpheus taking you to the Palace gardens. Morpheus was starting to feel his heart gravitate toward you and his eyes capture you more beautifully. He felt his feelings for you were becoming more romantic. You on the other hand also started seeing Morpheus more romantically but you were also severely touch starved and craved physical connection and affection. This is why when Morpheus explained his feelings for you in the valley of berry bushes you wasted no time kissing him on his lips, your heart was frivolous and floating. He grabbed your waist and held you close as you both locked lips until you both pulled away, sweet smiles on your bruised lips, and walked back to the palace hand in hand. No words were ever spoken about the status of your relationship and never would be until further on in the future. Ever since then your garden trips always either started or ended with your mouth on each other. This leads us to the current time, Instead of your usual kissing spots you both were currently locking lips on his throne. You sat on top of him as you both vigorously kissed, your tongues dancing the waltz and his hands finally found purchase on your waist as he had previously been groping your chest. You gripped his dark black coat, seeking some stability, you felt as if you would float away into the clouds. After you both had your fill, you both settled down, you rested your head on his chest and sat there absorbing his warmth. 

“Morpheus.” You whisper

He hums in acknowledgment, caressing your hair,

“What would you say we are” Your head lifts to watch his expression, its the epitome of adoration

“Lovers.” He fondly pecks your lips

You contently hum and lean back into his chest. It was perfect, everything was perfect. But nothing lasts forever.

Many months pass. It has now been about 4 years since you entered your coma and ventured into the Dreaming. All day you had felt odd, your entire body tingled and felt floaty. Like you were groggy. You sat in the library with Lucianne and Morpheus. The pair were coming up with ideas for new dreams and nightmares. You were sitting on a comfy brown plush chair, reading a book when it happened. You could hear voices in your head. Like they were in your skull. Your book dropped to the floor and you gripped your head. You could smell the faint scent of antiseptic and plastic. It was familiar. You could hear the heavy footsteps of Morpheus and Lucianne rushing towards you,

“Are you alright darling?” His voice was filled with worry

“My head.” You groan, the voices were all too much, their yelling mixed with Morpheus's voice was all too much

‘Grip my hand if you can hear me.’ you heard in your head

“What is happening,” Morpheus asked turning to Lucianne for help, she was more knowledgeable in these situations,

“It seems as though they are waking from their coma.” 

“No,” his voice was soft and filled with disbelief. You had never heard him use that tone, or have that look in his eyes. As if his world was crumbling. The feeling was getting stronger and you were starting to fade. The sound in your head was getting stronger and the smell was growing. You could faintly feel cold metal. Before you fully disappear you grabbed Morpheus's hand and give him a sweet smile,

“See you in my dreams.” 

Then you awoke. Leaving Morpheus broken in the Dreaming.

“It’s alright Lord Morpheus.” Lucianne comforted,

“You shall still see her while she sleeps, or you may even visit her in the waking world.”

“No Lucianne.” His voice was filled with despair

“I won’t be the same.” His heart mourned, you were happy in the Dreaming, his kingdom. He wanted to be by your side forever but now you were gone from his home. He never expected you to leave him so soon. He sat in the library in front of that brown chair for hours after you left, his hands rested on the plush cushion of the chair. A few tears left his eyes, but no sounds left his throat. You had left him.

{end}

(maybe I'll write a happier part 2)

Finnick Odair Being Your Mentor Would Include...

Keep reading

Nolite Celare.

Genre: Humor (?), Fluff, Friends to Lovers! & Smut (Hogwarts! AU) 

Pairing: Wong Yukhei (Lucas) x Reader Ft. Jaehyun the Matchmaker

Word Count: 9.3k-ish 

Note: It’s got a lot of inaccuracies in regards to the rules and what not at Hogwarts and some made up spells, sorry! But I hope you like the fic overall! 

“Class dismissed. I’ll see you all after winter break with the 10-page assignment on unicorns and their magical properties.” Your professor announces as loudly as she can, though it’s still drowned out by the sound of students eagerly stuffing their books into their bags and scurrying hastily out of the room. 

Though you like to take your time to avoid the crowd, you could relate to the sentiment. Most of them are probably excited for the second event of the Triwizard tournament, the following Yule Ball and the fact that there’ll be no more classes for the next three weeks. 

You, however, have already witnessed enough excitement in your second year when you’d seen the tournament for the first time. Now, in your seventh year and on the eve of your leave from Hogwarts, you find your mind occupied with much more important things such as the Auror exams. 

That and well, your best friend, Yukhei. 

Keep reading

War of Hearts

Masterlist

Pairing: The Darkling x Shadow Summoner Reader

Summary: Aleksander promised you eternity with him. Alina Starkov took that from you both. Now you’re going to finish what your lover started.

Word Count: 14.9K

My Masterlist

1 ❝ fine, make me your villain ❞

2 ❝ you and I are going to change the world ❞

3 ❝ there are no others like us…

4 …and there never will be ❞

5 ❝ like calls to like ❞

Epilogue ❝ the two of us, together ❞

COMFORT ME

requested by anon :)

james comforts you as you think maybe your life would be better if you were still alive

warnings: soft james 🥺 also this is smut. not really kinky at all but like just super cute, soft smut.

words: 3.2K

Life as a ghost was a lot harder than your husband led it on to be. It was so lonely. You missed your family, and your friends, and your home. And while you absolutely loved James and appreciated the life he had given you in the Hotel Cortez, you found yourself always thinking about what life outside was doing without you.

James was gone somewhere in the hotel taking care of business with Elizabeth and you were left alone in the large suite, thinking about what your life would be like right now if you hadn’t let James kill you here. You thought about living on your own in a house close to your parents with maybe a successful husband — not saying James wasn’t successful, maybe just a husband who was alive — and maybe two kids with a dog and a good paying job.

You thought about these things often. You had all the time in the world to think about a different life, and usually it wouldn’t affect you much. It would cross your mind and you’d shrug it off before moving on, but today, they weighed heavy on your mind. No matter what kind of activity you tried to do to get your mind off of it, it was always there, eating you up inside.

You were finally hitting a breaking point when you were making dinner for your husband and yourself. You stared down at the steak searing in the pan when you thought about how you could just not eat it and be completely fine. How you could never eat or drink or even breathe and be completely the same. How the only reason you were doing this was to get some sense of a life you had previously. Tears welled up in your eyes before you pushed the pan off of the stove and turned off the heat.

“God dammit,” you whispered and wiped your tears away from your cheeks. You hardly ever cried, and you hadn’t ever cried in front of James. It was something that the both of you never did in front of the other. Not that you were uncomfortable with it, you both were just strong individuals and hardly sought for emotional support in each other. And it wasn’t like you never wanted to comfort James emotionally, he just never let his emotions truly show. And it was the same for you.

You let a few more tears fall down your cheeks before wiping them away once more, trying to focus back on making steak for your husband. You sniffled and as you stared at the steak, you only felt your tears come on stronger. “Okay, what the fuck, man?” you mumbled as you once again had to push the steak off of the heat.

“Mrs. March, would you like me to finish making this for James?” Miss Evers appeared behind you as you broke down. You nodded at her before moving over to the bedroom, tears spilling down your face as you try to compose yourself before James would get back. But you couldn’t. The tears kept coming and your body trembled as you sobbed on the bed, your head in your hands.

The door opened and shut in the living room, but you didn’t notice, trying to control your sobs still. You curled up on the bed, hoping that relaxing in your bed sheets would bring to you some reality and help you calm down. Footsteps sounded in the hallway to your bedroom of your suite, being deafened to yourself by your own sobs. The bedroom door swung open, revealing your husband in his usual suit and tie attire. You heard the door open and sat up immediately, wiping what other tears might be on your cheeks before forcing a smile onto your lips toward James. “H-hey, my love,” you greeted him, hoping he hadn’t seen you crying just moments later.

But, he did. He had a frown on his lips before making his way over to you, “what’s wrong, my dear?” He set his hat down on the table on the side of the bed, shrugging off his suit jacket and placing it on the chair in the corner of the room before sitting down beside you. He didn’t know how to comfort you, honestly. The man hardly knew how to comfort himself so seeing you cry really was difficult to solve.

He lifted a hand, placing it on your back and rubbed slow, small circles in between your shoulder blades. You sniffled a bit before shaking your head and looking down at your hands, “it’s nothing.” You fiddled with your fingers just a bit as you leaned into your lover’s touch, appreciating just his touch.

“You’re crying, darling,” he stated, bringing his other hand to your chin to make you look at him. His dark eyes looked into your own for a moment before looking at the wetness on your cheeks and bringing his thumb to wipe it away. He leaned in a bit, placing his lips on your cheeks, the saltiness of your tears invading his mouth.

“I-I,” you stuttered before pulling back from James, letting out a sigh. You weren’t about to tell him what you were crying about. It would absolutely destroy him if you admitted to him you were unhappy with your afterlife. You knew that he would try to take it personally, but you didn’t want to take the chance of hurting him at all. It was already bad enough that you were upset. You didn’t want you both to be emotional messes. “It’s truly nothing,” you whispered to him.

His frown deepened, his eyes softening up as he continued to rub the circles into your back. “Darling, please,” he pleaded, his voice soft, but still holding his accent heavily.

You took in a deep breath, sucking onto your lower lip for a moment, “I miss my family.” You looked away from James as you continued, knowing it wouldn’t be a substantial enough answer for him, “I just wish I could grow old… have kids, a house, a future.” You could feel the tears stinging your eyes again as you put your head in your hands once more, crying into them.

James hushed you, putting his own feelings aside to help you. He was hurt, wanting only to make your afterlife perfect, but he understood how difficult it was to shift from having a future to having the same reality everyday. He wrapped his arms around, pulling you into his lap. You rested your cheek against his chest, your mascara staining the white shirt he had on. He rested a hand on your cheek, wiping the tears away as they fell down. “My love,” he started, burying his face in your hair, kissing the top of your head before continuing, “I know how frustrating it is. Eternal living in one home is extremely aggravating.”

“I-I’m sorry, Ja-,” you got cut off by James pushing a sweet kiss to your lips causing you to immediately melt in his touch. You kissed him back with just as much love, closing your eyes as the two of you molded your mouths together.

He slowly pulled back, opening his eyes once more to look down at you, “don’t apologize, my dear. I wish to see you expressing your emotions more often. It’s the only way I can help.” He brushed your hair out of your face and whispered, “I love you. I would do anything to ensure you were happy. Invite your parents to the hotel, my love. I would love to meet them.”

You tilted your head at him for a moment before whispering, “really?”

“Of course, my love,” he pushed a soft kiss to your jaw as he spoke causing you hum a bit in response, “and if you want a home, I could have this hotel torn down by noon tomorrow and a house built on this very property where we can live. I don’t think you like the many spirits crammed into one living confinement, however.” He pushed another kiss after another to your skin, moving to your neck.

“I would n-never ask you to do that, James,” you said in response, your fingers finding their way into his hair as his lips worked against your neck. The kisses were delicate as if he were afraid to break you, but passionate as to show you how much he loves you. He hummed against your skin as you tugged lightly on his raven locks.

He took in a deep breath before pulling back from your skin for a moment, whispering, “I want you happy, darling. Anything you want.” He slowly brought a hand up to your neck, pushing the collar of your shirt to expose your shoulder. “I love you, Mrs. March,” he whispered before pushing his lips onto your shoulder, slowly undoing the top button to your blouse as he kissed your skin.

“I love you, too,” you mumbled before closing your eyes once more and focusing your attention on his lips on your body. You sucked in a harsh breath as his lips tickled your sweet spot on your neck, feeling the man smirk just a bit against your skin, knowing what spot he just got.

You let out a small whine when he pulled away from your body, gently placing you back down on the bed, resting your head on the pillows. He hovered over you, his hands placed on either side of your head before leaning down, pushing another gentle kiss to your lips. You kissed back, cupping his cheeks as you moved your lips in sync, his tongue prodding at your lips as the two of you made out.

You parted your lips for him, letting his tongue roam every inch of your mouth. You let out a soft moan against his lips, letting your hands wander down to the buttons on his shirt, slowly beginning to undo them until his chest was fully exposed to you. You slowly pulled away from his lips, looking over his body as your fingers delicately ran over his muscles. He shakily took in a breath, letting your hands do as they wish. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, bringing a hand to your blouse once again and finished popping the buttons. He felt himself harden at the sight of your partially exposed boobs, leaning down and pressing gentle kisses to them.

You moaned, tangling one of your hands into his hair once more and tugging as he slowly started to suck deep red hickeys onto your breasts. He moaned against your body, bringing his hands under you and unclasping your red bra. He looped his fingers around the straps and brought it down off of your body, fully releasing your boobs from the piece of clothing. He groaned at the sight beneath him and gently dragged a finger down the middle of your chest, his breath shaky as he continued to drag his finger down your stomach and to your pants, using his hand to push them down to your knees before sitting back, tugging them down the rest of the way. While he sat back, he shrugged off his shirt and undid his belt, pulling it through the loops and quickly pushing off his pants as well, leaving you both in your underwear.

Your eyes wandered down his body. Even though you had seen his body countless times before, it never failed to amaze you. He was incredibly beautiful. “Wow,” you whispered as you played with the hem of his white briefs.

He chuckled, watching your hands as they played around the area he needed you the most, “patience, darling. Tonight is about you.” He brought his hands to your hips, tangling his fingers in your lacy red panties before pulling them down to join your other discarded clothes. He leaned down in between your legs, taking in the beauty that was your wet cunt waiting for him. He let his minty breath hit your clit as he leaned down closely to it and whispered, “you never fail to amaze me, my love.” He pressed a soft kiss to your clit causing you to let out a low moan, feeling your pussy only grow wetter and hotter and needier with the minimum contact.

He delicately started to lick at your clit, your back arching off of the bed as his tongue worked slow circles into the bundle of nerves. He brought a hand from your hip, aligning his pointer and middle finger to your entrance and steadily slid them into you. “J-James,” you moaned out, tossing your head to the side against the pillows. He pumped his fingers in and out of you at a leisurely pace at first, his fingertips rubbing up against your g-spot as he sped up his tongue against your cunt.

He slowly rutted his hips against the bed, moaning against your clit causing a shiver to go down your spine. His fingers curled inside of you, assaulting that one spot inside of you that made your toes curl. He picked up the pace inside of you, locking your clit with expert precision, loving the taste of you on his tongue. He pulled back just for a moment, his fingers still fucking into you, causing you to whimper as the sudden loss of contact. “I love you,” he repeated the whisper, his cool breath hitting your clit. His eyes were on your cunt, watching his fingers disappear in you over and over before whispering the three words once more against your pussy before going back to licking on your clit.

You could feel your orgasm building up fast. Usually, James would have you ask if you could cum, but that was for more bondage sex. It was hardly ever that James would be so slow and passionate with you. As his tongue kept prodding at your cunt, practically suckling on your clit, his fingers pushing against your sweet spot, you began to let go, gripping his hair tightly in your hands as you came, your juices finding their way onto James’ chin as he continued to attack your clit through your first climax of the night.

James slowly pulled back, humming in delight at the taste you’ve left on his tongue. His chin glistened, wet with your cum. “You taste so delicious, my love,” he whispered as he pushed down his briefs, allowing his cock to bounce out of them, earning a moan from you just at the sight. He brought the two fingers that were once inside of you to his lips, licking off the remaining juices before resting his hand on your hip, leaning down above you to press delicate kisses to your neck once again.

You were still coming down from your high when he started to run the head of his cock along your folds, collecting any remaining wetness onto his member. “Do you want me to do this, darling?” he asked against your neck, pulling back just for a second to look at your face as you responded. James was a consent king when it came to you, but he hardly asked in the middle like this. He truly just wanted you to be comfortable.

“Of course,” you whispered in response and brought a hand up to his cheek again, leaning up to place a passionate kiss to his lips. He smiled against your lips before slowly sliding into you, groaning as he bottomed out.

He pulled back from your lips and began to move his hips slowly, setting a gentle yet pleasurable pace. You gasped at how good it felt to have James make love to you rather than ruthlessly fucking you into the bed sheets. Either was amazing, you concluded, and also thought about how this was the perfect way to comfort you after having such dark thoughts. This made you feel so much better, and content with the life you had chosen. And it’s not that it was just because the sex was good, but it made you feel loved.

James tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear as he moaned out, his hips gradually beginning to pick up pace. He held your hip in one hand, your cheek in the other, his thumb casually wiping the mascara stains on your face off as he thrusts into you. You looked into his dark eyes for a moment before closing your eyes, your body overwhelmed with pleasure again already.

James’ cock knew the exact place to hit inside of you, the tip of it grazing your g-spot with every buck of his hips. He groaned as you tightened around him, a sign that you were already so close to your second orgasm. He sucked in a sharp breath as he began to thrust just a bit faster, leaning down to the crook of your neck and peppering sweet kisses there once more, whispering, “I love you, darling. Cum whenever you need to, okay? Don’t hold back for me, my dear.”

You hummed in response to his words, moving your legs to wrap around his waist. The new position had his dick thrusting straight into your sweet spot, his skin rubbing against your clit as he thrusted. It was impossible to hold back any moans or whimpers on your end, the pool of pleasure threatening to already be released if you were to let it. James was almost there, too, the tightness and warmth of your pussy making it incredibly difficult to hold back anything.

“J-James, I-I’m gonna-!” you moaned out before being cut off by your husband.

“Me too, l-love, cum for me,” he whispered, low groans leaving his lips as continued to move his hips at a sweet pace.

You let go, your legs trembling around James’ waist and your back arching off of the bed. Small gasps and moans left your lips as the heat washed over your body, tossing your head back into the pillows as James fucked you through your high, his thrusts starting to grow sloppy as he could feel his own climax growing closer and closer.

“Fuck,” he whispered, thrusting just a couple of more times before bottoming out deeply inside of you, groaning low as he came in you. The thick ropes of cum laced your walls, making you moan at the feeling. As James pulled back, you cupped his face and pressed a long, loving kiss to his lips.

Once you pulled away, James collapsed beside you onto the bed, turning you to face him, his cock still buried deep inside you. You nuzzled close to his chest, peppering sweet kisses to his collarbone as he lit a cigarette and took a drag from the stick. “Thank you,” you whispered, watching his movements.

“For what, my love?” he questioned and looked down at your face with a smile.

“Comforting me.”

“Oh,” he shook his head and let out a soft chuckle before continuing, “that’s my job, my dear. I wish for you only to be happy. Now,” he set his cigarette down on the ashtray before pressing a kiss to your forehead, “about your parents coming to visit. I was thinking we could…”

The two of you spent the rest of the night discussing a plan of your parents visiting, and also discussed future plans, giving you something to look forward to in the afterlife. You were so grateful for James and he was grateful for you. After tonight, you were assured that you wouldn't want your life to be any different.

tags (the way i keep forgetting this): @kitwalker64 @spider-starry @kitwalker02 @mossybank @forevercountess @taikawho @kitwalkerangel @tatestripedsweater @milly-louise