All I want in life is to be able to touch Tyler Down’s poof hair.

Close One || Clay Jensen x Reader

Sorry this was so short. There was like only so much I could put in this scene, and it was mostly dialogue. I had so much fun writing it, though. 😂

Word Count: 684

Warnings: Mentions of Sex, Period Talk

~

    You were late—two weeks late, to be exact. You'd kept a calendar, charted every day that you were supposed to be expecting. By the third, you'd told yourself it was just a minor delay. On the seventh, you figured it was just stress. When the fourteenth came and went, you'd convinced yourself that you were pregnant.

    You weren’t a promiscuous girl by any means. As you thought back on what might have caused it, there was really only one reason; Clay Jensen.

    The phone felt a million miles away as you sat silently in the living room, sprawled out on the couch with a hand flat across your stomach. You decided then and there that even if Clay wanted nothing to do with you or the baby, you'd raise it right. Because if it had even the slightest chance of being like its father, you were willing to give up everything.

    You steeled yourself, climbing off of the couch and snatching the phone up quickly. You dialed Clay's number before you could change your mind, chewing nervously on your lower lip as you waited for him to answer.

    "Y'ellow," he answered, as usual, sounding bright and bubbly.

    "Blue," you replied shakily. "Hey, Clay."

    "Hey, Y/N. Is something wrong?" he asked.

    "Kind of. Maybe? I don't know," you whispered.

    He paused for a short moment. "I'm coming over."

    Barely twenty minutes later you were greeting him at the door, taking in how his eyebrows had knitted with worry, and his skin had gone pale.

    "Are you breaking up with me?" he questioned. "If you are, just tell me."

    "No." You shook your head. "But you might be breaking up with me pretty soon."

    He scoffed. "I doubt it."

    You led him inside, sitting him down at the kitchen table. After slipping into the chair opposite him, you cleared your throat, trying to come up with just what you were going to say. There had to be a better way of telling your boyfriend that he might be a daddy.

    "Clay," you began. "Do you remember a couple of weeks ago when we... you know?"

    "I'm not following," he said slowly.

    "Oh, come on," you mumbled. "You know what I'm talking about. When we had that big fight at Zach's eighteenth birthday party. We went upstairs to talk in private and ended up-"

    His eyes widened. "Ohh. Yeah, I know what you're talking about. What about it?"

    "I haven't had my period in a while," you replied.

    He froze, eyes locked with yours. "Are you sure?"

    "Clay, I think I'd know if I was bleeding out of my-"

    "No, I meant," he interrupted. "Are you sure it isn't just taking a while to happen this time? There are more things that make women late than just pregnancy, right?"

    "Yes, but by two weeks?" You sighed. "We didn't use protection that night."

    He was speechless.

    "Listen," you said. "If this is the real thing, I'm not going to get rid of it. I'm going to have this baby, and if you don't want anything to do with it... then I won't tell anyone it's yours."

    He stood abruptly, chair flying backwards and hitting the ground with a thwack. He crossed the distance between the two of you, scooping you up into his arms. "Don't ever think I'd do that to you. I love you." He placed a soft kiss on your cheek. "If you're really pregnant, then that baby is ours. I couldn't give less of a fuck about what anyone thinks."

    You laughed, bringing a hand up to hide the goofy grin that had spread across your face. "I love you too, Clay. You're the best boyfriend anyone could ever have."

    He was just about to lean in for another kiss when you broke away. A dull, twisting cramp had struck right around your ovaries. You rushed to the bathroom, checking to see if it had finally happened. And it had.

    "OH MY GOD, CLAY," you yelled.

    He was right on the other side of the door, sounding panicked. "WHAT? WHAT'S WRONG?"

    You squealed. "I'M NOT PREGNANT."

Smile For the Picture || Tyler Down x Reader (NSFW)

I don’t know what happened during the process of writing this imagine, but it got my whole life fucked up. This is going in my list of bedcanons.

Word Count: 1,429

Warnings: Smut

~

    You had been dating Tyler Down for all of around two years, and in that time he'd accumulated more pictures of you than you had yourself. His room was basically his own personal shrine. Photographs of you littered the walls; taped into albums, tossed onto shelves, falling out of the pockets of nearly every pair of jeans he owned.

    He'd invited you over to stay the night while his dad was off on some out of state business trip, claiming the two of you would have free reign of the place until he got back. You were just settled down in your favorite spot, his bed, when you caught him trying to snap another.

    "That's it," you said, pushing yourself out of the warm burrito you'd made with the blankets. "Give me the camera, Ty. It's your turn."

    He looked up at you from where he sat crossed legged on the carpet, said camera still poised for the shot. You'd never seen someone so utterly offended by the prospect of getting their portrait taken. "I take the pictures, I'm not in the pictures."

    You laughed, reaching out from the edge of the bed to make a grab for it. "Come on. You have like a thousand of me, and I don't have a single one of you. That doesn't seem fair, now does it?"

    He stood, brushing himself off with one hand. "I don't take them for no reason. You're like my pièce de résistance, my muse. Most of the images I have of you are easily my best work."

    "Don't try to act all lovey dovey, thinking that's going to put me off," you replied, "but thank you. That was the sweetest, cheesiest thing you've ever said."

    He stuck his tongue out at you, holding the camera up over his head as you made it off of the bed and started moving closer.

    "Oh, wow. Now that's just mean. Bad Tyler," you said.

    "Works, though," he responded with a shrug.

    "Fine. You wanna fight me for it?" you asked. You kicked off of the ground, taking off with a running start, jumping up to reach for his hands. You came up just a couple of inches too short, hands slamming against the side of his desk to keep your pelvis from hitting instead. "Just give me the camera!"

    "No," he whined. "Take a picture of the lamp or something."

    You turned to glare at him, looking his tall, slender body up and down. "Okay, fine. I can't jump, but I can do this." Your hands were on him in seconds, sliding up under the edge of his t-shirt to feather light touches on his most ticklish spot—his waist.

    He burst into a fit of giggles almost instantly, trying to back away from you. When his legs hit the edge of the bed, he tripped and fell backwards onto it, letting you crawl on top of him with little protest. He was so dazed by the sudden shift of things that you snatched the camera right out of his hands without him so much as blinking.

    "Got it," you murmured, smiling slyly down at him. You brushed a hand through his wild, curly hair. It had grown over the summer so that it seemed nearly impossible to keep out of his eyes. "Let's get you looking pretty for your picture."

    He came back to with a start, reaching up to mess his hair from where you'd just fixed it. His cheeks had flushed, and he was shifting beneath you, trying to knock you off.

    "Hey, quit it," you snapped, nearly being unseated. You managed to grab onto the front of his shirt, squeezing your thighs tightly enough around his waist to keep him from being able to move at all. "I'm taking this picture, Tyler. Whether you like it or not."

    His hands found your thighs, gripping them like he was planning something that could possibly end with you on the floor. Before you could tell him not to even think about it, he'd given you a hard push forwards.

    You landed face-first into the pillows, the camera barely kept from falling off of the bed by your curled fingers acting as a hanger for the strap.

    Tyler never gave you a chance to recover. He slipped out from underneath your raised hips, rolling over to grab it from you. There was the light shutter shortly after, an obvious sign that he'd taken another picture of you.

    "You're a real jerk sometimes," you murmured, voice muffled by pillows. Even you could hear how unserious your voice was.

    "I'm camera shy," he said, "and you're very determined."

    You were about to reply with something equally snarky when you felt the bed shift. The heavy, warm encasing of Tyler's body pressed against your back, forcing you to relax down against the mattress. His soft lips assaulted the skin of your shoulder, each gentle kiss sending a familiar pang through your chest.

    You hummed your approval, nails raking across the bed sheets as his hips rocked into yours. The hardness of his erection was easy to feel through the thin fabric of his pajama pants. As he rutted up against you, grinding against your sex; you could feel your stomach tightening with pleasure.

    "Ty," you begged, but he was one step ahead of you.

    He had already drawn down your small, cotton boy-shorts, hands smoothing up your back and down to grip your waist. His soft grunts were right next to your ear, hot breath beating against the crook of your neck as he pushed in.

    You arched your back, breaths fast and uneven as you adjusted to being so abruptly full. That pang in your chest had seeped down to your core, sizzling with the heat of your arousal. He was quick to start moving, his own trailing release clear in the way you could feel him pulsing inside of you. Neither of you had ever done something so quick and dirty before. It'd always been slow, with embraces and kisses, and when the end came the two of you usually found it together.

    This was nothing like that.

    His fingers dug almost painfully into the tender flesh of your waist, hips ramming unrelenting into yours. The sound of skin-on-skin had filled the room. But the only thing you could hear was your own heartbeat, hammering within your chest as your insides ached in the best way.

    He shifted, every thrust suddenly angled downward towards that one, rare little spot that only ever made an appearance in the really heated times.

    You gasped, hugging a pillow tightly to your chest as the smooth pleasure of your orgasm began to build. It was rapidly growing from a small twinge to an unignorable throb that made your muscles clench.

    Tyler must have sensed you were close, because he was peppering your neck with love bites, hands slipping beneath your body. He pried you away from the pillows, holding you against himself as you finally reached your end. Swallowed whole in electric, fiery, earth-stutters-on-its-axis kind of pleasure.

    Your eyes had drifted closed when he set you back down on the bed. You barely registered him pulling out, your walls still numb. When you heard him let out a soft, pitched moan, you knew he was close.

    You rolled over, albeit with some difficulty, forcing your eyes open so you could watch his gorgeous expressions as he came.

    He chewed on his bottom lip, hand working his length. He was staring down at you, blue eyes glimmering with the kind of adoration you only ever get from one person. It was hard not to believe in true love with him lingering above you like that.

    You reached up, taking over for him with a series of long, slow pumps. That was all he needed. Just feeling your warm skin against his had him panting, moans slipping from his lips as his orgasm hit, the bulk of it spilling just below your navel.

    Out of the corner of your eye,  you saw something reflecting the light of the lamp. It didn't take a genius to know he'd left the camera on the bedside table.

    You grabbed it quickly, lining it up with the sweet, satisfied expression on his face. With those plump, swollen lips, and curls damp and sticking to the back of his neck. Eyes half-lidded and glazed over. He didn't register what you were doing until you'd already snapped the picture.

    "Erase it," he mumbled.

    "Not a chance," you replied.

The Hideaways || Tyler Down x Reader (NSFW)

Thank you so much. 😭 I certainly can. This idea is pretty hot. Like the ideas going through my head right now. Holy shi-

Word Count: 1,383

Warnings: Smut, Blowjobs

~

    You were never one to attend school events.

    The only reason you had tonight, watching the Liberty Tiger's first basketball game, was because of Tyler Down. He was the school's junior photographer, and your boyfriend of almost two years. For him, you'd be able to put up with a few hours of watching guys in baggy shorts throw around an orange ball, no matter how tedious.

    He was poised at the edge of the court, down on one knee and camera raised. He'd already gotten at least a hundred of the team, but still needed a few of the cheerleaders to put in the yearbook. It was then, through your boredom, that an idea popped into your head.

    You were sure there was a sinister smile stretched across your face as you bounded down the bleachers. You slipped down onto your knees next to him, leaning in to bump your shoulder against his. Whatever photo he'd been trying to take was surely nothing more than a blur as the camera jostled around in his hands.

    He tried to give you an annoyed look, but you could see the amusement swimming behind those pretty blue eyes.

    "Ty," you whispered, fully aware that a few heads in the stands had turned to watch the two of you. "You wanna go do something fun?"

    After all the times that you had said the exact same thing, he didn't have to ask what you meant. He nodded, raking a hand through his curly bangs, wild and tousled from the constant back-and-forth it took to get pictures of the the 'star' basketball players.

    The two of you got to your feet, the sounds of shoes squeaking against the court fading away as you dipped into the halls. Down two sets of stairs, behind a heavy door with a broken lock, and drenched in a dim, blue light was the boys' locker room; still strewn with clothes from when the Tigers had changed into their uniforms, the smell of someone's cologne hanging loosely in the air.

    You nearly tripped over a crumpled varsity jacket laying on the floor, laughing as Tyler caught you by the waist and drew you closer to his side. You were very aware that what you were doing was a bad idea, but in the moment, as your lips found the hollow of his neck, you didn't much care.

    He, however, was an entirely different story.

    "Y/N," he gasped, fingers twisting in your hair as you nipped at his skin, biting down just hard enough to leave a mark. "If they catch us in here, doing this-"

    You pulled away, gripping his shoulders firmly. "They won't."

    He shuddered as you pressed him against a row of cold, navy lockers, hidden towards the back, a broken moan working its way passed his lips as you hitched your hands up beneath his sweater. His back arched, hips pressing into yours as you let your hands drop to his jeans. You sank to your knees, drawing them down with you.

    He swallowed hard, unable to look away as you tugged at the hem of his boxers, lips descending to kiss his hips. Your tongue traced out the letters of his name, pulling from him a string of dizzy moans. They shot straight to your core, uncovering that familiar want, already begging for the one thing that would sate it.

    You met his eyes, watching his cheeks burn a deep rose as you worked his boxers down just far enough to leave him exposed and subject to whatever you had planned.

    You leaned forwards, lips pressing softly against the head of his erection. He made a strained noise, hips stuttering as your tongue lapped out against his warm, velvety skin. You carried it down the length of his shaft in light, wet streaks. He whimpered, wriggling helplessly as you did it again, and again, until he was throbbing for more.

    You moved down, lips parting as you took the head into you mouth. Your tongue swirled underneath it, rubbing down the sides and flicking just over the sensitive bundle of nerves at the tip.

    He threw his head back against the lockers, spilling a stream of appreciative noises.

    You were just about to take him in deeper when you heard the door burst open. The two of you jumped, giving you a bit too much to swallow, literally.

    You pulled away, fighting the overwhelming urge to gag. You wiped the tears forming in the corners of your eyes, smiling as Tyler took your face in his hands. He mouthed an 'Are you okay?' and you nodded in response.

    You could hear the obnoxious voice of Bryce Walker from the other side of the lockers. He was talking to someone, something about sports and other things that you weren't interested in at the time.

    You turned your attention back to Tyler, grabbing his hands when he tried to redress himself. He stared down at you, eyes wide.

    You sloppily went down on him, this time fully prepared to go as far to the hilt as you could. You could feel him silently shifting his weight from one foot to the other, no doubt choking back moans as you hollowed your cheeks.

    Bryce said something about a party at his house. You moved up to the head, teeth grazing gently as your tongue ran flat along the underside of Tyler's erection.

    You picked up the speed, keeping a good eye, or ear, on the sound of footsteps coming closely to the other side of the locker. Whoever was there, digging into it for their things, had no idea what the two of you were doing just on the other side.

    Tyler thrust forwards, nearly catching you off guard. You grabbed his hips, coaxing him to do it again.

    He got the message, hands finding your hair once more. He rolled his hips into your mouth, biting his lip to keep any unwanted noises from escaping. You could feel him twitching already, hot on your tongue. Your fingers curled around his slender waist, bringing him to an agonizingly slow pace.

    Tyler suddenly froze. You pulled away, turning around to see what he was looking at.

    Along with Bryce, there were two others. They were filing out the back of the locker room, turned away from the two of you. Not a single one of them thought to look behind as the door was slammed shut.

    You looked up at Tyler, unable to fight off the grin stretching across your face as you stood. "How's this for fun?"

    He laughed, shaking his head. "This is terrifying."

    You reached beneath your sweater dress, pushing your underwear down your legs. You pulled them off and tossed them at him.

    He caught them, eyes following you, cheeks still flushed with crimson, as you turned around and pressed yourself up against the wall.

    "Come on," you murmured. "You may not be a basketball player, but I know you can show me who the real tiger is."

    He was on you in seconds, your underwear discarded on the floor as his hands grasped your waist. You moaned, nails scraping down the stone wall, as he lined himself up with your entrance and pushed in.

    Your hips met fiercely, neither of you the least bit put off by the slight sting.  Your bodies, slick with sweat and saliva, had overpowered the cologne, leaving the room laden with the smell of sex. An irresistible scent that dared to bring you to the edge twice as fast.

    Tyler's chest was flush with your back, arms reaching around to lock tightly around your stomach. You reveled in the feeling of him being so close, trying to press up tighter against his body as his length relentlessly drove into your clenching walls.

    What finally set you off was his lips, soft and plump, catching the skin of your neck, warm breath beating off of your skin. You toppled over the edge, hard, bringing Tyler right along with you. The two of you slumped down to the ground, holding each other through the fiery, explosive pleasure.

    After a long moment, Tyler sighed deeply. "You're amazing, you know."

    You brought a hand down to place over his. "Not as amazing as you."

You Don’t Get Nervous || Tony Padilla x Reader (NSFW)

Thank you! As a little backstory for this: falling in love with your best friend, despite your sexuality, is a known emotional phenomenon. Some wild shit. By the way, sorry this took all day to get out, but I just rEALLY LIKE TONY so it sort of dragged on.

Word Count: 2,081

Warnings: Smut, Virgin!Reader, Overstimulation

~

    It was something that had started off as nothing more than innocent fun, and then, slowly, transformed into a mesh of feelings that neither of you really understood.

    You were comfortable with your sexuality. For as long as you could remember, you'd been attracted to guys, so it was no surprise to you when your feelings for Tony surfaced as more than just considering him a friend. You always brushed them aside. Knowing that he was gay, the odds of you two being together was incredibly thin. Too thin to waste time pining after him.

    After three years—three long years of a friendship that could've easily been one of the best you'd ever had, or would have, he showed up at your door. It was midnight. His dark hair was still messed, bangs falling in his eyes and slightly sticking up in the back from where he'd been lying down; and he was still in nothing but a pair of plaid sleep pants and an old t-shirt.

    You welcomed him inside. You offered to grab him a drink, or brew up a pot of coffee, but he pulled you into the dining room without a word. Ten minutes later, the two of you were sitting on opposite sides of the dinner table, staring at each other like you were looking into the faces of strangers.

    "Tony?" You were the first to break the nearly unbearable silence, voice cutting through the distance like a hot knife. "What's going on?"

    "I left Brad," he replied.

    "What? Why?" you asked, eyes widening with surprise. "The last time I saw you two together it seemed to be going so well."

    "I'm in love with someone else." He shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "I highly doubt it would ever work out. I just couldn't keep lying to Brad like that, leading him on."

    "What makes you so sure it wouldn't work out? Who are you in love with?"

    He gave you a small, nervous smile. "You really want to know?"

    You nodded.

    "I'm in love with a girl," he said quietly. "She's kind, and smart, and always there when you need her to be. At night, she's all that I can think about. Whenever I close my eyes, she's there. Smiling, playing with her hair, something cute like that."

    When you realized how silly the dumbfounded expression on your face must've been, you looked down at the tabletop. "Tony, that's insane. I thought you were gay."

    "I am gay," he responded. "She's the only girl I've ever wanted like this."

    "So who is she?" you whispered, hoping the heartbreak wasn't clear in your voice. It had never bothered you for Tony to have boyfriends, but the thought of him going after a girl, after all the time that you had spent reminding yourself he'd never be able to like you that way; it was like being forced to walk over broken glass.

    He hesitated, the slightest worry crossing over his face, disappearing faster than you could prove it was there. "Don't let this ruin our friendship. I'm not ashamed to say that I need you."

    So it was someone you knew? Or someone you didn't like. You tried to wrack your brain for any girls at Liberty High that he might've shown at least some interest in, but no one came to mind. "Nothing could ruin our friendship, Tony."

    "Okay." He inhaled deeply. "I'm in love with you, Y/N."

    Everything in your world seemed to slow to a crawling pace. Your eyes met with his, for once finally seeing the confusion laced around the way he warily searched your face. Understanding and not understanding exactly why this had happened. Finding a sudden, overwhelming feeling deep within your chest that everything had finally fallen into place.

    "Oh," you said.

    "See, that is exactly what I thought you'd say. Just forget that I was here." He kicked out of his chair and started heading for the door.

    "Tony!" you called, jumping up to chase after him.

    You caught his arm right as he was reaching for the door. He wobbled backwards, being forced to look at you as you yanked harshly. One small step out of place was all it took, and then the two of you were toppling over onto the carpet.

    Tony pushed himself up, hovering over you on his hands and knees. "Christ, Y/N. You could have just told me to stop."

    "I know. I'm sorry. I panicked," you said. You reached up, winding your arms around his neck. "This is all just... so weird."

    "Yeah, no shit. I'm the gay one," he responded.

    You laughed, drawing him closer, lips brushing against his. The lightest of kisses, and yet one of the most satisfying you'd ever had. "I love you too," you whispered.

    There was a moment of shared silence, as the two of you remained there, faces mere inches away. You were close enough to be breathing each other's air. He smelled like leather seats and spice, both most likely from his beloved cherry red Mustang. You wondered what was going through his head, and more importantly, why your hands had begun to shake. Why your stomach was coiling into a tight ball. Why your face was heating up so suddenly.

    "Tony," you said, even quieter than you'd been before. As if you were afraid of waking some sleeping beast. You moved a hand to smooth across his tanned cheek, unsure of exactly what you were trying to say. Not knowing what it was you wanted.

    "Y/N," he murmured in response, leaning into your touch. At the shift of your bodies you felt something hard pressing into your thigh. You didn't have to ask what it was, because the euphoric look on his face said it all.

    You didn't know where your sudden bravery came from, but your free hand slid down, palm flattening over the bulge beneath the thin fabric of his pajama pants. His eyes shot to yours, lips parting. He was too shocked for a moment to speak, only able to groan as you began moving your hand up and down.

    And then he was dipping down, kissing the exposed part of your shoulder. He managed to pause long enough to ask, "Are you sure you want this?"

    "Yes," you replied quickly. "But..."

    He pulled away, grabbing your wrists and pinning them to the floor. "No buts. If we're going to do this, look me in the eyes and tell me it's what you want."

    "It's what I want," you said without breaking his gaze. "I've just never went this far with anyone before. I don't really know what to do."

     "I've never went this far with a girl before, so we're in the same boat." He chuckled. "Don't worry, okay? We'll figure this out together."

    In one motion he had slipped his arms underneath your waist and turned the two of you over. You fought for balance as you were suddenly straddling his waist, choosing to curl your fingers in the fabric of his t-shirt. You could feel your face growing even hotter at the amused smile that was inching across his face.

    "Were you hoping I'd fall?" you questioned.

    "No, not hoping," he said. "But I was ready to catch you."

    Before you could retort, his hands slipped underneath your nightdress. Your body went rigid, and he must've noticed, because he stopped immediately.

    "Sorry," you mumbled.

    "It's alright." He stroked your thighs lovingly. The feeling of his warm palms running up and over your skin was enough to have you relaxing again. "I know you're nervous. I'm nervous too."

    "You're Tony. You don't get ner-"

    You were cut off as he thrust upwards, hips grinding into yours. You made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a moan, grasping his shoulders tightly to keep from falling off. His hands were strong and supportive as they tightened on your waist, making you feel that much more secure as he did it again, and again.

    He bit back a groan when you found enough of a rhythm to join in. You wondered how much of a mess the two of you looked right about then. Rutting up against each other, too drunken with lust to get up from the hallway floor and walk to the bedroom.

    This time, when he reached beneath your silken dress and grabbed onto the hem of your underwear, you let him, raising just enough to let him bring them down your thighs.

    "Do you want to top?" he asked. "You might like it a little better if you have control."

    You nodded timidly, letting him guide you up onto your knees. You watched him tug his pants down, boxers following shortly after. After using a bit of spit to make things easier, he pulled your hips into place. You took a deep breath, bracing yourself as you slowly started sinking down.

    The way his head was thrown back, eyes twisted closed in pleasure, served to make the uncomfortable stretch worth it. You were able to go all the way down, finding the nearly undetectable pinch from the loss of your virginity to be underwhelming compared to what you'd thought it was going to be like.

    You could feel your insides throbbing, heat building up to the point that you honestly thought you'd die if you didn't start moving immediately. But you weren't exactly sure how you were supposed to.

    Before you even had the chance to nervously babble out a question, Tony's hands were on your hips. "Just like this," he purred, starting you off on a slow, up-and-down pace.

    It didn't stay that way for long. Soon enough, you grew tired of his length teasingly dragging along your walls, just enough to surface the hot coil of your building orgasm, but not enough to actually get you any closer there.

    "Y/N, shit..." he cursed, hips rocketing up to meet yours as you moved faster. He squeezed your hips hard enough for you to wonder if he was going to leave behind a row of fingertip shaped bruises.

    You hadn't expected the quickened pace to have him pressing in deeper, knocking against something inside of you that sent a jolt of electricity down your spine. It soaked into your skin, sizzling in your core until you could distinguish the peaking waves of your orgasm.

    Your heart stopped, hands dragging down his chest, hips coming to slow, harsh snaps as heat washed over your body. You nearly went slack, lungs heaving with exertion. You'd never been so full during an orgasm before. The throbbing of your walls clenching around him was beyond satisfying.

    "Tony," you drawled, barely able to hold yourself up.

    He cast you a dark, racy grin, pulling you down against his chest so  he could roll the two of you over. When his hips rocked back into yours, you had to bite down on your fist to keep from crying out. Every small movement felt like a thousand soft feathers pressing inside of you. It was nearly impossible to keep your body from jerking as he picked up the pace.

    He raked his fingers through your hair, bringing his lips down to your neck. The feeling of him suckling on your flesh, combined with his hot length twitching inside of you had your head spinning. You tried to still your shaking, achy body, but it was no use. Something hot and almost painful was burning inside of you.

    He pulled away from your neck with a pop, sitting back on his heels. You moaned as he lifted your hips, bringing them flush with his own. That burn had turned into a stab, tearing through your core like a knife.

    "I can't," you gasped. "It's too much."

    "Just a little longer. Trust me," he replied breathlessly.

    It wasn't long before that stabbing multiplied, finally bursting throughout your body in a climax outing the first one by a mile. It seared through you like fire, making your muscles spasm wildly. You dug your nails into the carpet for purchase, back arching involuntarily.

    Tony pulled out abruptly, inhaling sharply as he reached down to touch himself. You felt the warmth of his orgasm drip down your thigh, accompanied by a deep, guttural groan that made him sound absolutely wasted.

    He collapsed next to you, shoulder pressed tightly against yours.

    "That was nice," you whispered.

    He laughed weakly. "Yeah."

For Your Love || Jeff Atkins x Asexual!Reader

I’m glad you asked, because I’ve seen a few imagines with asexual readers and I noticed a repeat of something that really bothered me. Always by the end, they were magically cured by ‘the one’. Like, no. If that’s someone’s sexual orientation, or lack thereof, they’re not going to change it for one person. If people truly desire our asexual cupcakes, they’re not going to constantly be trying to convert them.

Word Count: 1,174

Warnings: Mild Bullying, Sexual Dialogues

~

    You had thought your relationship was going well. Marcus Cole, straight-A student and President of the Honor Board, was what most would consider a perfect gentleman. He would hold open doors for you, carry around your bags; basically, treat you like you always thought guys should treat their girlfriends. But it was on the night of the back-to-school Winter Formal that you saw him for who he truly was.

    The two of you had just taken a break from dancing to go grab some punch. Upon hearing from Montgomery that it'd been spiked, you stuck to grabbing a soda, watching Marcus pick through the large platters of snacks with a frown.

    "Hey, do you want to get out of here?" he asked, nodding towards the door. "We could go back to my place and hang."

    “Are you not having a good time?" you responded.

    He shot you that that sly smirk, never failing to melt your heart. "I just thought maybe we could have a little bit more if we were alone."

    The smile that had begun to itch across your face faded quickly, replaced by a concern that furrowed your brows and forced you to cast your eyes downward. "Can't we stay longer? I wanted to ask Tony if he could get some slow songs playing."

    You felt Marcus's hands slide around your hips, drawing you against his chest—what might have been comforting under normal circumstances, but now it just served to make your stomach twist with nerves. "Come on, Y/N. You know you can trust me." He leaned down, teeth nipping at your ear. "I'll be gentle."

    You shoved your hands against his chest, scrambling backwards a few feet. "Wait! I really need to tell you something."

    "What?" he asked, sounding, and looking, pretty offended.

    "I'm asexual," you said quickly. "It's not like I don't like you, I really do. It's just... I don't enjoy sex like that."

    He seemed taken aback for a moment, before finally clearing his throat to speak. "So you don't think we'd be having sex any time in the nearby future?"

    "I'd rather if we didn't," you replied, feeling as if your chest was rattling with broken glass. "We could still have a good relationship together."

    "Look, Y/N," he began. "You're a gorgeous girl. I mean, every guy in this school wants you, and plenty hate me for being the one you chose. I just don't think you're ever going to find someone who'll keep you if you keep holding out like this."

    You stared at him in shock. "Wh-what?"

    He patted your shoulder, shaking his head sadly. "This just isn't going to work out between us. When you get over this phase, or whatever this is, call me, okay?"

    "What the hell, Marcus?" you asked, voice raising. "Did you only start dating me to get in my pants?"

    Heads had turned from the crowd, people poking other people in the sides to draw their attention over. Marcus had turned a light red, glaring down at you for calling him out in front of everyone.

    "Like you didn't start dating me just to get brownie points towards your school record," he snapped.

    "I started dating you because I thought you were the one person who would understand that there are more important things than sex!" you cried.

    "You're just a prude freak," he replied, his voice breaking with anger.

    A few of his friends, who had grouped together near the front of the crowd, snickered quietly. One punched Marcus on the shoulder, telling him to let it go. Another claiming that he had something that could open up those legs.

    You felt tears stinging at the corners of your eyes, their words squeezing around your neck like a tightly knotted rope. You tore through them, racing out of the gym and down the hall. You didn't stop until you had pushed open the door to the girls' bathroom and collapsed against the wall, knees drawn to your chest and wetness streaming down your cheeks.

    To think you had once told yourself you loved him.

    Barely a few minutes had dragged by when you heard the door creak open. You looked up, surprised to see the tall, broad figure of Jeff Atkins slipping inside. His hair was moused into a swoopy, black wave, white tuxedo crisp and perfectly tailored.

    "Can I come in?" he asked.

    You shrugged. "I guess. If you want to hang out with a prude freak."

    "Fuck Marcus," he said. "You're not prude, and you're definitely not a freak. Last time I checked, you were just Y/N, and that's fine with me."

    He moved to sit down next to you. At closer glance, you could see he had replaced his normal white studs with a pair of snowflakes. You laughed, making him turn his head to smile at you.

    "What's up with the earrings?" you asked.

    "I'm being festive," he replied, motioning at the matching pattern on the hem of your dress. "And twinning with you, apparently."

    "Looks like fate wanted us to meet each other in this bathroom," you said with a soft sigh. "You don't have to waste your night with me, you know."

    "Assuming that any of my time spent with you is wasted." He placed his hand over yours, bringing it into his lap. "My night is already ten times better."

    You brushed away a stray tear, trying to pull away. "We won't work out. It never does."

    "Why?" he asked, tightening his grip. "You're an asexual. So what? That's not something that matters to me."

    "You say that now, but imagine if we somehow managed to make it out of high school. Years from now. I'm not opposed to the idea of sex some time in a long term relationship, but I'm not going to be able to be sexually attracted to you. Are you willing to live your life like that?" you responded.

    You could tell by the expression on his face that he was seriously considering this. You were just bracing yourself for him to stand up and walk out when he gave a nod.

    "Yes."

    "Jeff, are you sure?" You turned to face him, sitting back on your heels. "This isn't a joke."

    He nodded again. "Yes. I am one hundred percent positive. I'm not sure if this is a little too early or not, but I think I'm in love with you."

    You laughed. "What?"

    "No, I'm serious," he replied, lunging forwards to scoop you into his arms. He pulled you in for a hug, resting his head on your shoulder in a maternal kind of way. "I was pissed when you started dating Marcus. Ask Clay. He's the one who watched me purposely tear book pages every time I had to turn them."

    You felt yourself relaxing against him. "Wow, okay.  That's certainly something."

    He gave a low chuckle. "Do you want to go back to the dance?"

    "Yeah," you whispered.

    For once, you had a feeling your relationship actually was going to work out.

Babygirl || Jeff Atkins (NSFW)

*pushes you behind my back* Don't worry. I have three taut rubber bands and fifty cents in change if the kinkshamers attack.

Word Count: 1,086

Warnings: Smut, Daddy Kink

~

    "Get down on your knees."

    You pulled away from where you'd previously been decorating Jeff's neck with a colorful array of hickeys. A few had already begun to bruise, flowering the deep purple of wine, while others were still the fresh crimson of newly risen blood.

    It only took one look at the sinful expression on his face to have your heart stuttering in your chest. You slipped down from the edge of the bed, right between his parted thighs. He stared down at you with a smirk, his smokey gray eyes blazing with lust.

    "Are you going to say it?" he asked.

    You groaned in annoyance, letting your head fall against his stomach. "Again with that, Jeff? It happened one time. Let it go."

    "Jeff?" he asked. "I don't know a Jeff."

    You felt a smile itching at the corners of your lips. "You're such an idiot."

    You tried to move on, tugging at the button of his jeans. He grabbed your wrists, bringing them to his lips to give them a flurry of butterfly kisses. "We're not doing anything," he teased, "until you say it."

    "It's embarrassing," you whined in reply, shifting forwards as his kisses turned into light nips, the satisfying pinch of his teeth against your skin enough to have your face warming.

    His eyes found yours, half-lidded and absolutely torturous. He was far too patient in situations like this, much more than you were, or could ever hope to be. He said nothing when a soft noise of desperation slipped through your lips, instead pressing a short stripe down your forearm with his tongue.

    You knew what he was trying to do, and it was working. The thought of that tongue going others places lit a fire between your legs. Instinct had your thighs squeezing together, giving away that you were close to the breaking point.

    "Say it, babygirl," he purred, voice dark and low. "You know you want to."

    You steeled your nerves, unable to resist any longer when he quirked up an eyebrow. "Can we please keep going... daddy?"

    He released your wrists with smile, bending over to grab at the hem of your shirt—his shirt, but you were unashamedly a thief—leaving you in nothing but a matching pair of polka dot underwear. You felt his index fingers curl under the straps of your bra, drawing you closer.

    When you were right where he wanted you to be, he let them go with a snap. "Good girl." His hands dipped to run down over your breasts, sliding behind your back to undo the clasp of your bra. It bounced open, letting him easily slip it off.

    He pulled you to your feet, getting to his own. You relished the feeling of your bare chest being pressed up against him as he turned the two of you around. He lifted you up just enough to toss you backwards onto the bed, crawling on all fours on top of you.

    You watched, that hot, boiling excitement fresh in your core as he pulled off his shirt. He popped open the button of his jeans without the slightest trouble, but when it came time to undo the zipper he did it slowly; purposefully trying to make you squirm.

    It worked. You wriggled your hips, hands digging into the sheets beneath you as he gripped the flimsy fabric clinging to your waist. He pulled it down to the middle of your thighs, letting you rest your legs on his shoulder. You relaxed, expectantly awaiting him as he slipped his jeans just a little farther down his hips.

    You couldn't see, but rather felt the hot, velvety skin of his erection pressing against your entrance, teasing with gentle thrusts that were never enough to actually push in. "Do you want it?" he whispered, voice already heavy with his own growing pleasure.

    Your entire body ached with need. "Yes, daddy. Please."

    His lips found yours, tongue slipping past as they parted in a gasp. He explored your mouth, rolling his hips into yours.

    The stretch was that bite-back-a-tear kind of burn. As skin, just slightly not wet enough, was forced to accommodate the sudden intrusion. The both of you made equally twisted moans, panting into each other's mouths as the first few thrusts went by. In the kind of pain that makes you want more, striking up your body like white fire.

    "Fuck," Jeff cursed, pushing back in fairly smoothly as he coated the last inch of your searing core with the slick of your arousal. He had an arm locked tightly around your legs, keeping your hips coming back flush with his own as he moved at an almost punishing pace.

    You slapped a hand over your mouth, resisting the urge to cry out, as one particularly deep grind sparked a wave of skin-prickling pleasure.

    He pulled it away, slamming it down onto the bed. "Don't," he said with a grunt, snapping his hips back into that same spot. "Don't you dare, little girl."

    Every bump of his body against yours, chests heaving together, hearts pounding, was the kind of bliss you can only feel with one person. Your back arched, hand pulling against Jeff's relentless grip as a string of moans fell from your lips.

    He made an indistinguishable sound, sinking down to bite into your collarbone, hips stuttering, becoming erratic as he neared his end.

    You were already done the moment the angle had shifted. It gave you that perfect friction right where you needed it. In mere moments you were turning your head from side to side, trying to keep your grip on reality as your orgasm melted around you.

    Jeff's breath hitched as he rutted into your twitching walls. He let your legs fall on either side of his waist, moving to place his hands against your shoulders, pressing you into the mattress.

    "I'm not gonna last much longer," he breathed.

    You squeezed your thighs around his waist, guiding him back and forth at a slow pace. "Do it inside, daddy," you begged, not once breaking from his tender gaze.

    That was all it took for him. He gave a breathy moan, collapsing on top of you with his arms wound tightly around your chest. The satisfying feeling of warmth spreading through your core was followed too quickly by emptiness when he pulled out.

    You kissed his cheek, giving him a lazy smile when he looked you in the face.

    He smiled back. "See. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

I ship you with Tony Padilla.

You like long drives? Tony would love to be the one to drive you. He’s the kind of guy who would take you to obscure places without telling you where you’re going, all the while having something special planned for when you get there. He treats you like a mom would treat her youngest child, and everyone loves when you counter back with your repertoire of bad jokes and tough love. You two are basically a married couple already.

I ship you with Justin Foley.

Like Justin, you’re not always what you appear to be in the public’s eyes. Sometimes it’s hard to take control when emotions come crashing in, and that’s where he comes in. He understands exactly what you’re going through, and would do anything to make you feel better. The two of you will forever be there to drag each other out of the darkness and into the light.

I ship you with Hannah Baker.

No matter what you’re into, Hannah will support you completely. She’s the kind of girl who never judges a person until she’s come to know them. If you treat her right, she’ll let you through that hard shell of an exterior and into a warm, loving heart big enough to hold the world.

I ship you with Clay Jensen.

Clay is the nice guy that you need in your life. Where he’s the sugar, you’re the spice; and those two things always seem to go great together. You can expect lots of warm nights curled up in bed talking about everything from what you’re going to have for breakfast, to your future together.

I ship you with Alex Standall.

Who better to sit back and relax in front of the t.v. with than Alex? He’s basically a cuddling machine. His dad’s a cop, and like the whole preacher’s daughter saying goes, that somehow makes him twice as eager to sneak out through his bedroom window to come meet up with you.

I ship you with Tyler Down.

What isn’t there to like about the two of you as a couple? There isn’t a time anyone has seen the two of you without cameras, snapping pictures of this or that; but mostly of each other. Tyler fits so well into your cat aesthetic, you can barely tell him apart from your four-legged companions, especially when he’s curled up on the couch half hidden beneath a mound of blankets.

Songs That I Relate to Tyler

Sure can do. I have like a whole folder of music just titled “Stalker Dad.”

Wye Oak - Civilian

I don’t need another friend, when most of them I can barely keep up with. I’m perfectly able to hold my own hand, but I still can’t kiss my own neck.

Plain White T’s - Hey There Delilah

Hey there, Delilah, I’ve got so much left to say. If every simple song I wrote to you would take your breath away. I’d write it all. Even more in love with me, you’d fall. We’d have it all.

Tove Lo - Talking Body

Now if we’re talking body. You got a perfect one, so put it on me. Swear it won’t take you long. If you love me right, we fuck for life.

The Killers - Mr. Brightside

Jealously, turning saints into the sea. Swimming through sick lullabies. Choking on your alibis. But it’s just the price I pay. Destiny is calling me. Open up my eager eyes. ‘Cause I’m Mr. Brightside.

James Blake - Retrograde

You’re on your own. In a world you’ve grown. Few more years to go, don’t let the hurdle fall. So be the girl you loved, be the girl you loved.

Andrew Bird - Pulaski at Night

I paint you a picture, but it never looks right. ‘Cause I fill in the shadows, and block out the, I block out the light.

Them as Song Lyrics

I’m actually really glad you asked for this.

Alex; Regina Spektor - Blue Lips

The pictures in his mind arose and began to breathe. And all the gods and all the worlds began colliding on a backdrop of blue. Blue lips. Blue veins.

Tyler; Awolnation - Sail

This is how I show my love. I made it in my mind because, I blame it on my A.D.D., baby. This is how an angel dies. I blame it on my own sick pride. I blame it on my A.D.D., baby.

Zach; Yael Naim - New Soul

I’m a new soul. I came to this strange world, hoping I could learn a bit about how to give and take. But since I came here, I felt the joy and the fear. Finding myself making every possible mistake.

Clay; The Fray - How to Save a Life

Some sort of window to your right. As he goes left, and you stay right. Between the lines of fear and blame. You begin to wonder why you came.

Jeff; 3 Doors Down - Kryptonite

You took for granted all the times I never let you down. You stumbled in and bumped your head. If not for me then you’d be dead.

Justin; Blackbear - IDFC

I act like I don’t fucking care. Like they ain’t even there. ‘Cause I have hella feelings for you. I act like I don’t fucking care. ‘Cause I’m so fucking scared.

Tony; Supergrass - Alright

Got some cash, bought some wheels. Took it out, through some fields. Lost control, hit a wall. But we’re alright.