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"Soft" obsessive BPD culture is crying to the song "Chasing Cars" by Snow Patrol bc like what if they won't lie here next to me, forget what we're told before we get too old, and chase cars around our heads :(
- 🍯💧 (I fucking love this song)
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when u get this, list 5 songs u like to listen to, publish. then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers or moots (positivity is cool) 💖
oOoOO this a good question I'll answer with songs that are perpetually stuck in my head ones that I could back to because their just that good to me
First up I got is
This song is so catchy for some reason I always find myself going back to it also helps me realize I'm not the only one sometimes with unrealistic expectations in men 😭
Second one I got is
This song is so good honestly like the vocals and lyrics just hit manage to scratch a part of my brain I didn't know I had I also love the alternate version they posted for the anniversary
I put these two in the same category cause their technically the same song just sung by different people/characters but both versions are absolute fire 🔥
The Third one I got is
I just recently found this one but ever since I did I've been having it on loop for who knows how long I'm just a sucker honestly for songs with symbolism and themes in them especially if they talk about more dark and taboo topics like this one
The Fourth One I got is
When I said I was a sucker for songs with stories and symbolism and themes behind them I wasn't kidding especially when they discuss more morbid and unnerving topics to be honest anything produced by biz is bound to be something I enjoy their whole "love it" track has been my absolute favorite of all time I love the way their are actual stories behind their songs like a whole narrative and characters you can dissect especially with the songs their releasing the lyrics exploring more dark and twisted relationships unhealthy on both sides (so far we have yet to see what they publish next and it may be something different that sticks out from the theme cause so far all the songs released in the "love it" track talk about a relationship where both parties involved are unhealthy and toxic and unhinged in some way shape or form) exploring a completely complicated web of love and toxicity all while being absolute bangers back to back overall I absolutely suggest biz as an artist if you enjoy songs talking about fucked up relationships and dynamics like their is so much nuance and analysis you can do on each song and the characters presented in each song that it keeps me coming back to them (this has honestly just divulged into me shamelessly trying to get other people to listen to this artist but let me tell you something they are super underrated in my opinion and more people need to talk about them)
And for the Fifth and Last One I got is
I love this song so much I was introduced to Frank Sinatra by my Father and have ever since become a huge fan of him it just gives such wonderful vibes Frank Sinatra is in my all time favorite artists
So that is all the songs I have listed I hope my ramblings will have convinced to check them out and their respective artists if you haven't already I left out a lot of other artists and songs I love mostly because these are the ones I am most obsessed with as of the moment but if you want you can always ask me more questions about any other songs or artists I might like I don't really have a set or specific music taste honestly I just listen to anything I like
#honey 🍯 rambles#song playlist#song recs#song recommendations#artists recommendations#favorite songs#superfruit#GUY.exe#vivinos#alien stage#ruler of my heart#butcher vanity#vane lily#Love eat - Dear Maia-#biz#frank sinatra
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i cant wait 2 crochet my barbie fit. like i need 2 find a pattern 4 a top a like, but then i get 2 crochet w pink yarn n akdbsidj ^-^
#🍯#sfw#if anyone has any suggestions 4 cute tops pls lmk!!!!#kinda just been scrolling through pattern sites n yt#still have to untangle n wind some yarn so i cant start quite yet#but if anyone has recs id appreciate it!!!!!!
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hot damn is it hot in here or is it just me?
can't unfeel that // Jake Seresin x fem!reader
pairing: hangman x reader (no y/n)
synopsis: jake and his FWB are going strong, totally not developing feelings, totally unaffected and happily still in friends territory...in completely unrelated news, Jake discovers a breeding kink
word count: 8k of smut interspersed with feelings
A/N: This fic is a follow up to kinda might, sorta like, love you a little bit; it’s not necessary to read that first, but it is the dynamic (if you haven’t read it, that’s where Jake discovers choking so it’s a fun time) (also the title is another line from the same song). Thank you to @gigisimsonmars for the inspo and beta-ing, and @laracrofted and @bradshawsbitch for opinions, moral support, and straight up coaching!! 💙
Warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI explicit PiV, unprotected sex, non negotiated breeding kink—friendly reminder this is a work of FICTION oh my god use protection and communicate explicitly with your partner beforehand please please please— f!receiving oral sex, hint on condescension, denied/delayed orgasm, overstimulation…if none of that phases you, there’s also swearing.
This was friend behavior; friends totally go grocery shopping together.
It definitely wasn’t a big deal that you and Jake were at a Whole Foods, him looking for some kind of weird protein powder while you picked through cartons of blackberries.
It was absolutely casual that he’d moved into a small house off base, and you were spending the night more often than not.
Your friends with benefits situation was continuing as expected, and the domesticity of it all was not, in any way whatsoever, throwing you off.
You wrinkled your nose at your reflection in the mirrors over the produce section, wondering who you were convincing. In the mirrors, you saw a man with a child on his hip come up to peruse the bell pepper section, and you stepped aside to give them more room.
“I’m so sorry to bother, but would you mind?”
You were surprised when the man spoke to you, and you turned to see him sheepishly looking between the rows of bell peppers, and the toddler who wouldn’t let go of her father, her lower lip quivering dangerously each time he readjusted his grip to reach for some vegetables.
“Of course,” you said, pulling down a produce bag. “What can I grab for you?”
“Actually,” the man shifted the child on his hip, “could you just take her for a minute? My wife sent this massive list and I have like a dozen things I need to get, and it’d just be faster…”
“Oh,” you said, looking at the girl who looked dubiously back at you, trying not to read gender roles and expectations into someone just asking for help. “If it’ll help, sure.”
“Thank you so much,” the man sighed in relief, handing over the child with little fanfare. The kid looked at you suspiciously, and you settled her onto your hip, not giving her a chance to second guess the arrangement. The man moved quickly down the aisle, pulling out a list to consult and grabbing different vegetables, as you narrated to the child, hoping the steady flow of information would be enough to offset the fact that she was being held by a stranger.
“Did you know,” you told her quietly, “that Brussels sprouts grow on stalks, like almonds? They look like little cabbages, and they’re technically related, I think, but they don’t come out of the ground like that. The pattern they grow in is actually called helical—which I’ve never said aloud until this moment, but it’s the same base word as helix, so I hope I got it right—around the stalk…”
You rambled on as the father continued to dart up and down the aisle, coming back occasionally to drop the bagged produce into the trolley. You heard a familiar footstep on the linoleum, and turned both you and the child towards it.
“And that man over there,” you told her, smiling conspiratorially as Jake rounded the corner, his boots giving a distinctive cadence to his step, “didn’t believe me when I told him it’s actually Brussels sprouts, with an ‘s’ at the end.”
Jake’s face went on a journey when he found you, then registered that you were holding an unfamiliar child, and his eyes slid over to the father running frantically up and down the aisle. A strange expression settled on his face when he looked back at you, almost frowning, as he walked closer to you.
“It’s not his fault,” you continued to the toddler, who was watching Jake with open fascination as he approached. “He’s a cretin whose unpopular vegetable of choice is an asparagus.”
“Ha ha,” Jake deadpanned as he stepped beside you, looking between you and the child with that same unfamiliar expression on his face. “What’s this?”
The father chose that moment to reappear, dropping a mesh bag of yellow onions, a carton of fingerling potatoes, a bundle of scallions, and a couple heads of garlic into the trolley, and nodding at Jake before turning back to you.
“Honestly, you’re a lifesaver,” he thanked you fervently, reaching for his kid. She went without complaint, and you briefly envied her unflappability, before you were preoccupied by other things.
Things like Jake stepping way into your personal space, and leaning forward to brush a kiss on your cheek. You shivered, surprised by the contact, but Jake stared intently at the man’s retreating figure, juggling his daughter and the trolley, either unaware of or unbothered by the heavy gaze following him.
“What was that?” you asked him, as soon as the man finally rounded the corner. Jake’s nose wrinkled, before he shook his head and stepped out of your personal space. He wasn’t looking at you, but held out the shopping basket towards you, showing a brown envelope labeled Organic Pea Protein on top of the groceries you’d already picked out.
“I found the powder,” he said, his voice level, and you weren’t sure if you were crazy or if he was suppressing. But Jake didn’t look like he was going to divulge any additional information, so you reached behind you haphazardly, grabbing the first carton of berries your fingers closed on.
“And I’ve got the berries,” you announced. You checked your selection as you dropped it into the basket, mentally grimacing when you saw you’d picked blueberries.
“You hate blueberries,” Jake said, frowning slightly.
“Sure do,” you muttered, looking at them, before pasting a smile on your face to look back at Jake. “But we’ve committed at this point. Anything else we need?”
Jake looked at you for a long moment, then shook his head tersely. “Uh, no. No, let’s go.”
You were both quiet as you stood in line to check out, making cordial conversation with the cashier, and then fading out as you carried the paper grocery bags out to the truck. The silence was almost disconcerting, but Jake didn’t seem upset, just like he was focusing intently on something, you weren’t sure what. You were loading the groceries into the backseat behind the passenger door when you realized Jake wasn’t opposite you, and that his bags had already been loaded. You were looking around for him when strong hands closed around your waist, and Jake pulled you to him, closing the door in front of you, before pressing you against the side of his truck. You expected him to turn you to face him, but you braced yourself against the truck when he didn’t, his broad body caging you against the door.
“Jake?” you asked softly, unsure what he needed, or was looking for, knowing that sometimes it was easier for him to feel you than to tell you. You could feel him drawing in slow breaths from the way his chest expanded against your back, and his hips pressed slightly forward at your soft question.
“Just a sec,” he said gruffly, his voice muffled as he turned his face into your hair. He wasn’t kissing and he wasn’t nuzzling; it just felt like he was grounding himself by touching you, and you knew that, despite trying to convince yourself otherwise by the bell peppers, your heart was in trouble. Because not only only did you not mind, you wish he’d let you do this more.
You nodded, sliding your hand up the side of the truck so you could rest your face on the back of it, while you waited for him. Jake drew in a couple more breaths, and then his hands on your waist loosened, as he turned you to face him.
You went easily, arms dropping from the truck to his shoulders, hoping if your presence had steadied him, your touch could do the same. His eyes were stormy, the green of them clouded over by something complicated, something messy, and your hand snuck up from his shoulder to the back of his head, pulling his face down to you. You didn’t kiss him, but you watched his eyes slide closed as you pressed his forehead to yours, and his shoulders dropped slightly.
“Want to tell me about it?” you asked quietly.
He didn’t say anything, but you felt him shake his head, his hair scratching your forehead from where it was trapped between you.
“Want to get out of here?” you asked instead, and this time felt him nod, causing something like pride to well up in your chest, relieved that he’d trust you enough to be able to voice what he wanted.
“Okay, then,” you said, gently as you could, “ let’s go.”
Again, Jake nodded, and you felt his hands tighten on your waist.
“When we get home,” he said, his voice rough, “I’m unloading the groceries. You’re going straight to my bed, changing out of this, and into my old Staubach tshirt.”
Jake didn’t phrase it like a question, but you knew he was asking it anyway, so you nodded. You felt him exhale a long breath against your cheek, like relief, and then he released you suddenly, like he had to do it at once or he wouldn’t at all.
He stepped away from you to open the passenger door, made sure your feet were tucked in before shutting it, then crossed in front of the truck quickly, pulling the truck out of the lot before his word choice snagged in your mind—home.
You looked at Jake out of the corner of your eye and he wove the truck in and out of traffic. His eyes were squinted against the bright sunlight, but the expression on his face was unfamiliar to you. His jaw was clenched, and his hands were tight on the steering wheel, and when one dropped to the stick to shift gears, the movement was terse, precise. You wanted to be a more altruistic person, you did, but realistically, something warmed deep in your stomach as you anticipated what that meant for when you got home.
When he pulled into the driveway, Jake was out of truck before it’d fully stopped, yanking open your door and turning you to face him, on the edge of the seat. You fumbled to undo your safety belt as his hand on the back of your neck drew your mouth to his, his lips claiming yours in a hungry kiss.
Your eyes fluttered shut and you reached a hand up to his jawline to steady yourself as he pressed you back against the seat. He kissed you hard, heavy, and you knew there was something he was saying that he wasn’t telling you, but you couldn’t quite read it off his lips. His mouth moved hungrily over yours, then he pulled himself back, pressing chaste kisses on the corners of your lips, your chin, across your cheekbones.
“Upstairs,” he said, his voice low. “Be ready for me.”
The heat that had been curling in your belly since the parking lot fanned into a flame in his words, and you nodded mutely. Jake helped you out of the cab of the truck (a couple more kisses and a smidge more of that voice, and you probably would’ve slid off the seat), and you walked on unsteady legs towards the house.
Upstairs, you rooted through Jake’s pajama drawer, looking for the worn navy tshirt he’d requested. You could hear the refrigerator door opening and shutting as Jake shuffled groceries around the kitchen, and you stripped unceremoniously, before pulling the tshirt over your head. The material felt soft, the hem falling just to the tops of your thighs. Jake’s footsteps sounded on the stairs and you darted over to the bed, perching on the edge of it as he came into the room.
At the sight of you, something softened in his demeanor.
His shoulders lost some of their tension, even as he pulled in a deep breath, looking at you. Your thighs pressed together as you fought the urge to squirm under the intensity of his gaze, no less unsettling for its familiarity. He noticed, of course, his eyes darting down to your thighs, and an almost-smile growing on his lips.
He walked into the room slowly, each step measured, and by the time he made it to the bed you were practically vibrating with need. To hear his voice, to feel his touch, to know you’d generated some kind of reaction from him, while you sat fidgeting.
Jake stopped in front of you, running a finger along the neckline of the shirt, and you couldn’t help but lean towards him.
“Thank you.”
He said it quietly, and it surprised you. You weren’t sure if he meant for changing, for waiting, for understanding that he couldn’t say whatever it was, but as you met his eyes as he stood over you, you nodded an unspoken ‘you’re welcome’.
Jake’s hand trailed down the front of the tshirt, his touch warm even through the cotton. His fingers stalled when he reached your breasts, his thumbs passing languidly over you as he confirmed you weren’t wearing anything underneath. Your nipples hardened under his teasing touch, light and unhurried, even as his eyes darkened.
“So good for me,” Jake murmured, and his hands dropped farther. He tapped the tops of your thighs and you opened them obediently. There was no pretense here, no point in pretending his words and his authority didn’t affect you. As you parted your legs, Jake sank to his knees beside the bed, his eyes flashing as he bent level to your hips.
“Sweetheart,” he whispered, his warm breath ghosting over you, the endearment falling from his lips like it was natural, even if it was only when you were like this, “is this for me?”
He pressed a feather-light kiss to your core, his tongue darting out between his lips to taste you and you knew what he meant—you were already glistening with arousal. Jake’s fingers came up to grip your thighs and he inhaled deeply as he spread your legs farther, sending a flush of color across your chest. You always felt desired with Jake, but sometimes it felt carnal, the way he needed you to fill all his senses.
Another light kiss, another sweep of his tongue, tantalizing promises and teases for the both of you. You leaned back on your hands, braced on the bed, as Jake’s gentle touches continued. It wasn’t at all what you’d expected, this soft exploration, and your hips lifted towards him, asking for more.
He pulled back.
You whimpered at the loss of his mouth, looking down to see him licking his lips. Jake’s chin was wet, shining with your arousal, and he’d barely touched you.
“Jake…” you started, your body canting towards him, but his hands on your legs stilled you.
“Asked you a question,” he mumbled, holding your eyes while he leaned in to place another chaste kiss on your cunt. His lips closed over you, his tongue curled against you, and you trembled at the dark look in his eyes.
“Yes, fuck,” you breathed, and Jake sucked where his lips had sealed, a reward. “All for you, Jake, only you.”
He hummed, the vibration causing your head to fall back as he placed another maddeningly controlled kiss on your core. He lapped at you slowly, pulling your arousal into his mouth, savoring your taste, taking his time. You realized you were trembling, your body shaking as Jake took what he desired, finding his pleasure between your thighs.
He kissed you, again, again, a soft trail up to your clit. When he rolled his tongue over that tight mound, your arms gave out, one of your hands tangling into his hair while you fell back to your other elbow.
Jake chuckled against your core.
“Need something, sweetheart?” he asked, licking a long stroke up your cunt. Your back arched and you cried out as Jake smirked into you, his tongue circling your clit. “Use your words.”
“More,” you gasped, your hips bucking into his touch. “Please, Jake, I need more.”
“More?” Jake asked, his voice low, and his teeth brushed over your clit as he sucked. You moaned, and Jake soothed you with more light kisses before you felt him shifting. A moment later, a thick finger traced along your folds, and you nodded feverishly.
“Please,” you begged, “I need—”
“Oh she needs, does she?” Jake mused, and you whimpered as he pulled back. You felt his cheek press against your thigh as he watched his fingers pulling through you. He spread you with his hand, holding your folds apart so he could lick deeply into you. The pressure of his tongue, the sureness of his touch, it felt so good, but it wasn't anywhere near enough.
And he knew it, the asshole.
“Yes, please, I—” you broke off with a yelp when Jake pinched your clit. He leaned in to soothe it with another frustrating kiss, but your body echoed with the throbbing pulse.
“Most people would be grateful to have their man on his knees, wouldn’t they?” Jake said, his voice muffled as his lips trailed over your core, but the teasing derision still present, sending a tremor through you. “But not you, hmm, honey? You want more.”
Your breath caught at his words; surely he hadn’t meant to say your man.
He wasn’t yours like that, hot as it was for him to say it…but the illusion of it was enough to set your reeling. You looked down at him—hair mussed from your fingers, pupils blown wide from your taste, shoulders panting as he chose between air and more of you—and this afternoon you liked the idea of him being yours.
“Greedy, greedy girl,” Jake chastised softly, when you didn’t correct him, but if you closed your eyes, you could pretend there was a fondness hiding in the gentleness of his voice.
He thrust two fingers into you.
You arched off the bed, a wail falling from your lips as Jake curled his fingers inside of you.
“And I take care of you, don’t I,” he said, kissing your cunt sloppily as his fingers worked in and out of you. “Every damn time, satisfy this needy pussy, this fucking perfect cunt.”
The stretch of his fingers, the wet drag of his tongue, the dirty sting of his words, washed over you and you moaned as he wrecked you.
“Yes, Jake,” you practically whined. “You’re so good, you feel so good, please—”
“That’s right,” Jake gritted, his fingers working faster. He thrust into you, stroking your walls and kissing it better with his warm mouth. You felt your thighs shaking and heat building in your center and you didn’t remember falling back onto the bed, but you didn’t remember anything other than the torturous, teasing, all consuming need that Jake was stroking between your legs.
“Fuck, honey, squeezing me so tight,” Jake panted. “You gonna cum for me? After all that needing, you gonna let me make you feel good? Come on, sweetheart, let me have it; it’s mine.”
His fingers continued stretching you, thrusting into you with perfect, intoxicating, precision and Jake leaned closer to your core again. His nose brushed against your clit before his lips closed around it, sucking messily, and you felt the building pressure inside of you shatter.
You heard yourself sobbing like something in a dream, distant and echoing, but all you could feel was the tremors wracking your body, and Jake’s tongue pulling you through it.
“Pretty girl,” Jake was murmuring between kisses. “You’re so damn beautiful, all the time, but when you come for me it’s something else. You did so good, sweetheart, so good, and you taste like fucking heaven…”
You whimpered as your head cleared, pulling weakly at his hair as he continued to kiss your sensitive core.
Jake continued to lap up your release, unrelenting, unsatiated, and you both groaned when he eased a finger back into you.
“How we doing, sweetheart,” he asked, and when you opened your eyes, he was watching you carefully. You realized he was holding his finger still inside of you, and it was your hips pulling him into you, rocking into his hand.
“Good,” you whispered.
Jake nodded, and his finger curled. “That’s my girl.”
His words soothed over you, and you felt them settle warmly over your skin, the same as when he’d called himself your man. It was probably pheromones, nothing more, but God it was a lovely thought.
“Sweetheart…” Jake’s voice was quiet, dangerous. “You know what that look does to me.”
This was happening more often than not, little moments where you wished for more, and Jake had to remind you that that wasn’t the deal you’d both agreed to. You clenched your eyes shut again, trying to make it go away.
“Sorry,” you mumbled.
When you looked at him again, Jake’s forehead was pursed in a frown, and he shifted his weight to climb up onto the bed. He lowered himself over you, his hard body pressing over your soft one, and his mouth found yours. He kissed you and you tasted yourself on his tongue, even in the gentle insistence of this kiss.
Jake pulled back, his lips trailing along your jaw, your neck.
“Don’t apologize, honey, please don’t,” he whispered against your skin. “I can’t…please don’t.”
And you pressed your lips tightly together to trap the words, but when he pulled back to look at you, you knew you couldn’t look, not without showing him what he didn’t want to see. You could feel him watching you carefully, gauging your reaction as he added another finger inside of you. He groaned when you clenched around him, his hips rocking into you slowly as yours spread wider, to cradle him.
“Feels good, Jake,” you gasped, loving the weight and motion of him.
He sucked on your neck, nibbling lightly and letting go as he rocked into you again. “Why’d you have to do that,” he mumbled into your collarbone, “look at me like that, then tell me it feels good. Makes me want to keep you, honey.”
Your hips stuttered against his, even as you knew he didn’t mean it, he couldn’t. Before you could ask and before he could take it back, he surged up to kiss you again. There was something almost frantic in his kiss, desperate enough that you knew this was it, whatever had gotten into him back at the grocery store.
“Sweetheart,” he groaned, pulling his fingers out of you, settling his hands on your waist, squeezing tightly to orient himself. His face was buried in your neck, hiding, even as his clothed hips rutted harder against you.
“Tell me what you need,” you asked, one of your hands coming up to card through his hair. He shivered, this enormous pilot, shivered at your words and your touch. He pulled back to look at you again, carefully, for a long moment.
The afternoon sun was fading, and he looked golden in your arms, crouched above you. He hadn’t pushed your hand from his hair, and you smiled when he moved his head, adjusting where you were scratching him, working up the gumption to say whatever it was he needed.
“Can we pretend?” he asked at last, his voice holding something almost vulnerable. “I…maybe I can explain it later. But for now, can we just pretend?”
You didn’t know what he meant, but, irrationally, you trusted him anyway. If this was what he needed, and you could provide it, then you would. You nodded, and he let out a slow breath, nodding back. Beyond that, he didn’t move, looking almost uncertain with what to do next, so you pushed at his shoulders lightly.
“Let’s start here, yeah?” you prompted, pulling his shirt over his head.
Jake helped you, shifting to his side so you both could work on getting his pants off. Then he was in his boxer briefs, and you were in his shirt, and then he pulled that off of you too. The air was thick for a moment as you lay looking at each other, waiting.
You ran a hand down his chest, over the smooth skin and coarse hair, thickening as you trailed lower. You brushed your fingers over his length, straining against his underwear, and looked back up at him through your lashes.
“Don’t you want to fuck me, Jake?” you asked softly. He nodded, eyes closing as you ran your hand over him again.
“More than that,” he whispered.
He felt good in your hand, hot and thick, and you watched the outline grow as you waited for him to finish the thought.
You felt him brush some of your hair out of your face, before he said quietly, “Want to get you pregnant.”
You froze.
When you looked back up at him, Jake was watching you closely and your heart felt like someone had it in a chokehold because that was what he’d meant by pretending?? You’d mentally prepared for some variety of roleplay, maybe even an admiral or rank kink, but this? You, just with a future together?
While your mind was screaming that it was unintentionally cruel, your body was sighing that it was so. Damn. Hot.
You had an IUD so it wasn’t a possibility, but the fantasy was admittedly one that sent a pulse of need straight through you.
“Color,” Jake asked softly, and you bit your lip.
If you said no, he’d be apologetic, probably fix you a bath or go downstairs, give you some space while he fixed something from the grocery run earlier. You’d eat together, pretend it hadn’t happened, and he’d help you get back to base, whatever you needed. Unless what you needed was to be here with him, like this, only not pretend.
It was that simple, wasn’t it: there was no way you were walking unscathed away from knowing how Jake fucked you when he wanted a future with you.
But you looked at him, into his soft eyes that were waiting for you, hoping for you, and there was only one word in your mind.
“Green,” you whispered.
Jake’s eyes closed.
The hand that had brushed your hair away settled on your neck and he pulled you to him.
“Thank you,” he said, and before you could process that, he kissed you.
This kiss was different.
It wasn’t possessive, it wasn’t hungry. It was almost tender. It was gratitude, honest and insistent, pressed against your lips as Jake thanked you for something he had no way of knowing you wanted.
It was too gentle, but when you tried to deepen it, Jake held back, soothing you with soft caresses. His hands were light on your shoulders, your waist, the side of your face, embracing you with more than just his kiss. You melted into it, the gentle slide of his mouth against yours, his sweet taste, the strength of his arms around you. Jake kissed you until he felt you trust him with it, and then he rolled you both over.
He settled over you, his long body draping over yours, and you wanted to melt into the bedspread. Your arms were wrapped around him, pulling him closer to you, and one of your hands ran over his stomach to slip into his underwear. You hummed into Jake’s kiss as your fingers wrapped around his cock, warm and heavy in your hand, and his hips pushed further into your grasp.
“Honey, hold on—” he muttered against your lips, but you shook your head. His touch was too good, there was too much unspoken, and if you let the tenderness fester unchecked, you weren’t going to be able to handle this.
You could lean into this, you could do it. You slid your hands around his back, pushing his boxer briefs down to his thighs before your hand returned to his cock. You knew he always got a little worked up when he went down on you, and as you stroked your hand over him, precum beaded on the tip of his cock.
“Waited long enough, Jake,” you whispered, “want you to fill me.”
Jake drew in a sharp breath at your words, and he nudged your chin with his nose, moving your face so he could kiss up your neck. His mouth was more desperate than focused; you knew he’d leave marks and you tried not to think about why you wanted him to. You shifted under him, moving to guide his cock towards your entrance, brushing against your thighs, slicked with his spit and your orgasm.
“Sweetheart,” he groaned, words muffled against your neck, a warning and a promise as you ran his cock through your folds. “You’re so warm and I’m not even in you yet.”
“Want to feel you,” you told him, wishing your voice was wrecked because he’d asked you to pretend, not because the thought of him having you like this sent your head spinning.
“I know, honey,” Jake said, voice low. “Just give me a sec.”
You could hear his breathing, measured like he had to count it, like it was overwhelming for him too. You licked your lips as you lined him up with your core.
“Come on, Jacob,” you cooed, letting go of his cock and running your hands up his side, settling under his shoulder blades, “don’t you want to breed me?”
“Fucking hell,” Jake swore, and his hips slammed forward.
Your head fell back as he shoved his cock into you, stretching you, deep and hot and sudden. You whimpered his name as your body ached in the most delicious way, stuffed, full.
“What’d you think would happen, honey,” Jake said, his voice hoarse, but his tone sharp. His arms caged around you, and he pushed off the bed to pull out slowly.
The drag of his cock through your cunt was devastating, but not half as much as the look on his face, when you opened your eyes.
Fuck, he looked so good.
Sandy hair in his eyes, expression strained as he held his body in check, his eyes blown wide with desire. His head dropped when he pulled nearly out of you, just the tip still in you, and you felt yourself clenching down on him, needing him. His lowered head draped his dog tags against your chest, the cold metal causing you to gasp.
Jake chuckled, a rumble of a laugh, and the tags dragged across your chest, then trailed up your neck as he leaned forward while he pushed back into you. You looked down your body, down to where his thick cock, shining with your joint arousal, was pressing back into your entrance.
“Eyes on me, sweetheart,” Jake said, and you looked up at him. “That’s right. Look at me while I feed you my cock.”
You whimpered, every impulse telling you to close your eyes, let your head fall, focus only on the stretch of his cock and your body adjusting to him. But you let your eyes burn as you looked up at him, and Jake almost smiled.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Beautiful girl, doing so good for me.”
Your nails raked up his back as he bottomed out in you. He felt so deep, like you could feel his heartbeat, or maybe that was just the way his chest was pressed up against yours. It felt like every inch of your body was connected to his, melting into him, as Jake waited for you to adjust. His eyes darted over your face, watching you carefully, and it warmed you just as much as his body over yours.
“Need you to move, Jake,” you gasped, when you were ready. “Need to feel you move.”
“We’re back to need, are we?” Jake asked wryly, but he rolled his hips, pushing deeper into you before pulling himself back out. He thrust back into you, your body accepting him, craving the push and pull and the fullness of him. Jake set a steady pace, deep and thorough and you felt like every time he pressed into you it was too much, and when he pulled out, like you needed him all the more for it.
So, yeah, you were back to need.
“Fuck, those sounds you’re making,” Jake groaned. “You sound so good, sweetheart, I could come just from hearing you.”
You hadn’t even realized you were whining, each thrust of Jake’s hips punching sounds out of you. A layer of sweat coated his skin, soothing the abrasion of his chest hair as he moved over your and the juxtaposition of it all—his words, his cock, his sweat, his chest—clouded your mind so all you could do was keep making whatever noises he pulled from you.
“But not today, huh?” Jake continued, pushing back into you. “Not today, because today’s not just about getting us there, is it, it’s about fucking filling you.”
You moaned at his words, nodding desperately, feeling yourself clenching him tighter at his words. God, you wanted to feel that, wanted to feel him.
“‘s that what you want, baby?” Jake gritted, his hips slamming forward. “To be so full of me, with my seed, not just when I can give it to you like this. Fuck, you’d always have me in you, wouldn’t you, carrying me.”
You felt yourself sliding up the bed, being pushed up by the force of his thrusts. You reached back for the headboard, finding it closer than you’d expected, pushing back to meet Jake, and he moaned.
“That’s right, sweetheart, push yourself back on this cock. You need that don’t you, to milk it till you’re full of me?”
You cried out as you nodded, needing that, just like he said. Jake swore under his breath, reaching down to rearrange you. He pulled your legs out from your hips, hooking his elbows under your thighs and easing into you again.
“Jake, fuck,” you groaned, the new angle pushing him impossibly deeper. Pleasure curled hot in your core, stoked higher by the friction of Jake’s thrusts. Your body was still sensitive from your first orgasm, but his cock and his words had you hurtling towards that precipice again, sooner than you could’ve imagined.
“You too, sweetheart,” he gritted, but he couldn’t know, couldn’t feel this as much as you did.
“Jake,” you whimpered. “I’m want to come, please—”
“No,” Jake gasped, and your eyes flew open. His jaw was slack, his eyes hooded, but his expression was intense as he looked down at you. His mouth opened slightly when he pressed deeper into you again, but he gained control when he pulled back, your body protesting the loss of him.
“No?” you echoed, and he shook his head.
“We have to time it right,” Jake murmured, his cock shoving back into you, “if we want this to stick, honey, you have to come with me.”
Your eyes rolled back, at his words or from the steady press of his cock. “Jake—”
“Count us down, sweetheart,” Jake said, voice stern. He braced his hands on either side of you, his arms shaking as he held himself in check, but his expression steady. “I’ll get us there, but you tell me when you need it.”
Fuck, you were pretty sure you could come just then, if he told you to. But you bit your lip and nodded, rewarded by a slow push as Jake rolled his hips into you.
“Ten…” he prompted.
“Ten,” you repeated, not sure if you could make it that long. Jake pulled back as he stroked out of you, and you heard him spit a moment before a cool wetness covered your clit.
“You look so beautiful,” Jake whispered, his thumb brushing over your clit. “God, how unreal you’re going to look carrying my child.”
“Nine,” you gasped, your vision blurring as his finger worked over you.
“Fuck, with your stomach all round,” Jake broke off as he thrust into you sharply, “filled, carrying my child...”
His thumb moved in a circle with delicious, maddening pressure, and you moaned as his words settled over you. “Eight.”
“These tits,” Jake leaned forward, his shoulders pressing your thighs flat against the bed and his mouth closing over your breast, messily kissing you, “they’ll be fucking swollen, won’t they, as you get ready to nurse our child.”
Your back arched off the bed as his tongue worked over you, mirroring the motion of his thumb. His mouth was wet and warm and perfect, and heat pulsed through your body. You could feel everything and you keened as you tamped it down, knowing you had to wait.
“Seven,” you managed, and Jake hummed, you could feel it.
“So soft, swollen, and all full of milk,” Jake mumbled, switching to the other breast. “And when you’re aching and sensitive, I’ll be there for you—bet you’ll taste so sweet like that, won’t you, darlin’.”
The thought of nursing Jake was stunning, and you moaned when you realized he was sucking at you, nipping and miming milking your breasts. You felt your body tighten, your toes curling and you shook your head against the pillow.
“Six; I’m not going to—”
“You’ll make it,” Jake soothed, releasing your breasts and shifting back, returning his attention to your clit. “You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart, I know you can do it. Just a little longer, have to make sure you’re ready for me.”
“Five,” you gasped, “I’m ready, Jake, please–”
Jake pressed more firmly on your clit, stealing your words as your breath caught. “I don’t know, honey—you’re doing so good for me, but it’s a big fucking load. That’s what you need, that’s what I need, so much fucking cum, to get my girl pregnant.”
You could only moan, surrendering to the feelings and emotions he was caressing out of you. Your skin felt white hot, and you could feel your legs trembling; it was only a matter of time before you lost control entirely.
“Four,” you whimpered, and Jake thrust into you again.
“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he soothed, his own voice tight as he fought off his orgasm. “You’re milking my cock so good, honey, can you feel it? Feel how hard you make me, how bad I need you, how I need to fill you?”
His rhythm faltered as his pace sped up, his cock plunging into you. Jake grunted at the top of every thrust, a sound of deep satisfaction that curled through you, gave you strength you didn’t know to hold off, to wait for him, to do it together.
“Three,” you cried.
“That’s it, sweetheart, because I do need to feel you, need to fill you, pump till you’re full of me and see me dripping out of my pretty cunt. Christ, you feel so good, you’re so good, how are you—”
Jake broke off, his hips slamming into yours, his cock reaching a place that had you seeing stars. Your eyes rolled back and you reached for him blindly, anchoring yourself with a hand in his hair, the other closing around his dog tags, moving with him as he thrust over you.
“Two,” you moaned.
“Almost there, sweetheart,” Jake groaned. “Almost there, almost time for me to fuck a baby into you. Fuck, you’ll be such a good mama, won’t you, so smart and beautiful and glowing when you’re carrying my child, all contented because I gave you everything, always will, and you can’t leave then, not with my seed—tell me you’re close, honey, are you almost there?”
“Jake,” you wailed, your count forgotten as your body trembled, his words closing around your heart like a vice. Jake’s pace was bordering on erratic, rhythm lost, his sweat dripping down to your joined bodies every time his hips met yours.
“Gonna give you a baby,” he gritted, “but you have to come with me, come with me now, please, fuck, sweatheart—”
Jake came with a shout, hoarse and sharp and he pressed his hips into you. He pulsed inside of you, his hips shuddering, and you could feel his cum streaming into you, hot and deep and what you needed. His head dropped to your chest as his body loosened with his release and you felt your orgasm break over you, like a thousand fuses lit at once.
The room swam, blinding light and senseless heat, pulsing over your skin like a heartbeat, and your awareness was distilled to him—Jake.
Jake’s beautiful groan when he finished, echoing around in your head, the holiest sound you’d ever heard.
Jake’s hips stuttering weakly against yours, thrusting even after he’d cum, like he couldn’t stop.
Jake’s voice, hoarse, whispering words you couldn’t discern, phrases you must’ve heard incorrectly, promises pressed against your skin.
Jake’s hands, shaking with the force of his orgasm, but smoothing over your skin, checking you, soothing you.
The light faded and you fell back into yourself, into your wrung out body, drenched in sweat and pleasure. The room felt hazy, heavy, and you realized Jake had matched his breathing to yours. You reached down, pushing the sweat-dampened hair off his forehead, smiling reassuringly when he looked up at you.
You could see it on the tip of his tongue, wanting to ask if you were okay, but he held it back, and you watched him shut down the part of him that was nervous about what had just happened.
“Hi,” you whispered, your voice hoarse.
“Hey,” Jake said back, clearing his throat. “Um, I can get a towel—”
“Can we stay?” you asked, hoping it didn’t sound too desperate. You just needed a minute, just a moment to bask in the warmth of what you’d pretended to feel, before your mind could catch up enough to pretend it away.
Jake hesitated for a moment, before nodding, and gently rearranging your legs, laying them down beside him before he shifted onto his back, pulling you with him. You went easily, resting on his chest and drawing a deep breath, thankful for the borrowed moment.
He probably wasn’t pulling out to avoid making a mess, knowing a washcloth was far away, but you could almost imagine it was because he craved the closeness as much as you did.
As you settled against his chest, one of Jake’s hands came up, absently running up and down your arm. You thought it had to count for something, the ‘friends’ part of ‘friends with benefits’, so you steadied yourself before you asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”
Jake’s hand stilled, then resumed its slow brushing as he petted you. You knew he knew what you meant—you weren’t asking about the sex, you were asking about before.
“Not really,” he said quietly.
You’d expected as much. “Okay.”
Jake’s fingers drummed against your arm, and the room was quiet again. The sun was setting, casting the room in an orange light, like the inside of a lamp.
“I mean, if you want to, we can,” he hedged, after a minute.
You scoffed. “That doesn’t mean much; I always want to talk with you.”
Shit.
The words had slipped out before you could stop them, and you squeezed your eyes shut, wishing you could take them back.
“We can ignore that,” you mumbled, and Jake chuckled softly, before sobering.
“If I tell you why,” he said, “can we ignore that, too?”
Ignoring and pretending, how you’d always expected falling in love to be.
Even though no one could see you, you rolled your eyes at yourself, and your malaise. You nodded into Jake’s chest, knowing he could feel it.
His hand was back to stroking your arm, like he wasn’t even aware he was doing it.
“You kinda looked like that kid,” he said.
Your heart stopped.
“What?” you managed.
“At Whole Foods,” Jake said, “when you were holding that little girl. I just came around the corner and it was like…like I saw a whole parallel life, one where someone married you, gave you kids. And I’d just walk by you in a grocery store, without knowing. Hell, even knowing, you looked like a family, like you fit together, like…”
He trailed off and your head physically ached as your mind whirred, processing his words. “Jake, she didn’t look anything like me.” “Her hair was similar,” he continued, a stubborn lilt to his voice, and you knew he wasn’t looking to be reasoned out of this.
“Okay,” you said, wetting your lips, waiting for Jake to finish the thought.
Only he didn’t.
He simply lay there, with you, his hand moving gently up and down your arm, seemingly content.
“So you decided you wanted to roleplay us getting pregnant?” you prompted, when it became clear that he wasn’t going to say anything else.
Jake sighed. “I hated it.”
You jolted at his words. “What?”
“Shit no, sweetheart, not that,” Jake said hurriedly. “Not what we—no, are you kidding, that was so damn hot—I meant seeing you in the store. With him. And holding her. It…I don’t know, it made me mad it wasn’t me.”
You pulled in a sharp breath, trying to find a platonic way to interpret that.
You could feel your heartbeat in your temples, so loud you couldn’t think, much less rationalize and you pushed yourself off of his chest. Your hips ached as you spread them again, settling your knees on either side of Jake as you looked down at him, still joined. Jake’s expression was guarded, but he let you look, shifting his shoulders on the pillows but meeting your eyes. Without your arm to stroke, his hand fell to the top of your thighs and resumed its motion there; you could tell the silence was making him nervous.
Well, that made two of you.
“I need you to be so fucking honest with me, Jake Seresin,” you said, proud of the way your voice was steady. “What does that mean?”
A hundred emotions flashed across Jake’s face before you could name them, and then he pushed himself up, settling you firmly on his lap as he brought his eyes level to yours.
“It should be me,” he said, “not with a kid, per se, and not just in Whole Foods, but people should look at us and see we fit.”
And then he kissed you.
For a moment, you were frozen.
This couldn’t be happening.
It had to be a weird, sex-induced dream where Jake told you he was jealous of an absolute stranger, jealous enough to admit he had something dangerously close to feelings for you.
But even as alarm bells sounded in your head, you knew this wasn’t a dream.
Because your body was sore in a very real way, the man in front of you was flushed, his fingers digging into your thighs with nervous tension, and he was kissing you carefully, so carefully, like he could pull back at any moment if you told him to.
Like hell.
You leaned into him, your hands wrapping around the back of his head to pull him closer to you. You felt him relax, felt his shoulders loosen and his arms wind around your waist, pulling your body flush against him. And this kiss was new, it was different, it was excitement and a little bit of embarrassment, at the foolishness of waiting so long.
You broke away, panting, and Jake rested his forehead against yours, his chest heaving. In the orange light, he looked gilded, too good to be true, like maybe he was Midas but you didn’t care if your skin turned to metal, so long as he didn’t stop touching you.
His long lashes fluttered, and your heart flipped at what you read in his green eyes as he opened them.
“Jesus, Jake,” you muttered, teasing, “you could’ve just told me you wanted to go steady.”
He chuckled, a warm low sound that you felt shake his body at the old-fashioned phrase.
“Yeah,” he said, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple, “but then we would’ve never discovered you had a breeding kink.”
Your jaw dropped and you pulled back, sputtering. “Excuse me—”
“I know, I know,” Jake shook his head, grinning, incorrigible. “But admit it: you loved it.”
You snapped your mouth shut, trapping the response that threatened to bubble out, words you hadn’t dared think, much less speak, before this moment. Jake looked at you, at your pressed-together lips and eyes that always said too much, and his smile softened.
“I know,” he said again, quietly, and he kissed you gently. Jake’s arms were tight around you and you leaned into him, letting it—whose kink it was, what you loved, what he knew—all go, knowing there was nowhere else you’d rather be.
//
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#hangman fic rec#jake seresin x reader#jake 'hangman' seresin x reader#tgm fic rec#top gun maverick fic rec#jake seresin x you#jake 'hangman' seresin x you#honey's faves 🍯
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Bpd having FP culture is "Coin-operated Boy" by The Dresden Dolls
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This is too hot for its own good.


Thick Thighs Save Lives - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader x Jake 'Hangman' Seresin
Summary: Being the only aviator with meat on your bones is tough. It's even more tough when you're stuck showering with two of your teammates.
Contents/Warnings: smut (minors dni), double penetration, fingering (vaginal and anal, f receiving), oral (m receiving), dirty talk, shower sex, protected sex, spit kink, body insecurities, mid/plus!sized reader, self-deprecation, arguing, angst with a fluffy/smutty ending
WC: 5.5K / navi
feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

If there’s anything you don’t want to hear during a not-so-friendly game of beach football, it’s ‘shit!’. The exclamation comes from Coyote who’s branched off to your towels on the sand, fingers curled around his watch, “We’re late.”
“How late?” Phoenix is already adjusting her ponytail, as it’s frazzled from the action. She’s squinting in the sun and remedies it by knocking her sunglasses down off of her head and onto her nose. It’s smooth, and she knows it by the soft smirk that curls at her lips.
“We have twenty minutes to get on the road.”
“Shit,” Rooster parrots, dropping the ball where he stands, which is how you know he’s panicked too, “We all need showers. Penny’s gonna kill us if we stink up the restaurant.”
“We can go in teams,” Fanboy decides, already sprinting over to his towel, “We don’t have time for individual ones.”
Before you can get a word in edgewise Coyote and Phoenix are rushing to join him, Bob hot on their trail. The showers are spacious, sure, but you wouldn’t exactly volunteer to share them with anyone.
With a terrible sinking feeling in your stomach you realize that the only three left are you, Rooster, and Hangman. That means the only way you’ll get to Penny and Maverick’s engagement party is if you shower together.
They’re already at their towels, scrubbing sand out of their hair and strapping their watches back on. Hangman’s is a thick, black leather band, and you can see flecks of sand marring the sleek strap from where it laid on the towel. Rooster’s is thinner, brown in color and gold around the rim. His is clean, but he puts it on his sweaty, sandy wrist. It won’t be for long.
Both men are shirtless, too-tight jean shorts squeezing their waists. You make a point not to stare as you trek back to your towel, already picking up on their competitive banter before you’ve even stood beside them.
“-probably use all my shampoo,” Hangman scoffs, clenching his towel tight in his fist, “You always steal my shit, Bradshaw.”
“I think it’s only fair seeing as you steal my gel!” Rooster quips back, gesturing to Hangman’s stiff, shiny hair, untouched even after your game, “Isn’t it fucking weird, Y/L/N? How much he uses?”
Rooster looks back at you for confirmation, someone on his side. But you’re too disheartened to respond, dreading your impending doom. All you offer is a meager, “Yeah.”, that curls a frown under Rooster’s mustache.
“You hurt yourself or something?” Hangman raises an eyebrow, stunned by your lack of teasing, “I think we need to call the doctor, you didn’t just insult me.”
“I’m fine.” You grumble, towel held around your waist despite the presence of your rash guard, “Just tired from football.”
“Well get ready,” Rooster warns you, “Mav’s gonna have to tell us all about how he and Penny met, and I’m really hoping he withholds the details on the little rendezvous that got him in trouble with her dad, but I know he won’t.”
You shudder for a moment, if only to please him, to throw him off your scent. You’re tired, there’s not any other reason you’re in a funk. You’re tired.
You are tired. You’re tired of caring, of constantly thinking about it. You’re tired of wearing a rash guard to the beach instead of a swimsuit, because everyone else is smaller than you. You’re tired of watching people’s eyes, tracking them to make sure that if they ever dip below your chest there’s something in front of your stomach to block it from their view. You’re tired of adjusting your uniform to make it looser, you’re tired of leaning against the bar instead of sitting at it, you’re just tired.
You are tired. You’re tired of caring, of constantly thinking about it. You’re tired of wearing a rash guard to the beach instead of a swimsuit, because everyone else is smaller than you. You’re tired of watching people’s eyes, tracking them to make sure that if they ever dip below your chest there’s something in front of your stomach to block it from their view. You’re tired of adjusting your uniform to make it looser, you’re tired of leaning against the bar instead of sitting at it, you’re just tired.
“Hey,” Hangman’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts, admittedly less grating and irritating than it normally is “You sure you’re okay?”
You blink and they’re staring at you, brows furrowed and limbs frozen in place. You wish that the waves lapping gently at the sand would crash onto shore and swallow you whole, sweep you up in a tidal wave of salt water and seaweed so that you wouldn’t have to answer.
“I’m fine,” You grit, slipping your feet into your shoes and rushing to stand outside the showers, “C’mon, we’ll be late.”
--
You had hoped that they’d get too busy bickering with each other to ever find you. But here they come, not five minutes later, just as Phoenix steps out of the steamy bathroom. A towel is wrapped around her torso and Hangman exaggerates his ogling of her, only turning your stomach further.
“Perfect timing,” He drawls, and she rolls her eyes.
Bob steps out next, taking one look at her face and stepping in front of her, “Your turn, Bagman. Try not to use all the gel.”
“See?” Rooster nudges you, his elbow against your arm as Bob and Phoenix walk away, “I told you! It’s absurd, he slathers it on like cement.”
“He’s gotta,” Coyote drawls, reaching over to knock on Jake’s head, “Otherwise his head’d sound as empty as it is.”
The two engage in a good-natured shoving match, but it’s one that nearly sends Coyote’s towel cascading to the ground, and you keep your eyes firmly on the tiny bottles of shampoo and conditioner that you’d brought. You read over the ingredients, as if sodium laureth sulfate and glycol distearate will keep your mind off of your humiliation.
“You said you’re fine,” Bradley murmurs from beside you, “But if it’s something you just don’t wanna say around Hangman, he’s not listening.”
Part of you is less embarrassed to be honest and exposed to Rooster than Hangman. But he’s still a man, an incredibly fit one at that, and you’re not sure you’d ever want to reveal it to either of them.
“I’m just nervous,” You tell him the only part of the truth you’re willing to admit. I’ve never... showered with a- a boy before. A man.”
You cringe at your misstep, but if Bradley’s amused by it, he doesn’t show it. Instead he hums, sympathetically so, “We’ll turn around, honey. Don’t worry about it, okay?”
“You’ll turn around,” You mutter, “I think it’ll just egg Jake on further.”
“What’s this I hear about eggin’ me on?” A familiar southern twang makes you tense as the man it’s coming from appears by your side, bumping his hip into yours, “You ready for our steam session, sweets?”
“Leave her alone, Hangman,” Rooster groans, feet slapping against the tiles as he goes to adjust the water. He shoves at Hangman’s back as he passes, and you stifle a giggle as the man nearly falls over.
“Hey, she’s the one that chose to shower with us,” Jake insists, and Bradley’s scoff is enough for you not to fight back, “And I would, too, if I were you, darlin’. Do you know how many ladies are lined up to see how hung Hangman is?”
You force a gag, “The only lady I see here is myself, and I’d rather smear wet sand in my eyes.”
“That’s what I’m gonna do to you if you don’t turn around and shut up,” Bradley speaks through the roar of the shower water, steam already rising from its fall, “Just drop your pants and wash your ass, so Y/L/N can shower to herself.”
“Well, well, well,” Jake smirks, towel cinched around his waist in only one hand as he stalks for the showers, “Looks like one of the ladies lined up is Bradshaw himself. Wanna see it, Rooster? Here it is.”
Jake drops his towel ceremoniously, and Bradley’s face morphs into a grimace as he turns away hastily.
“My fucking eyes,” He laments, and you pause in gathering your toilettries to laugh, while also trying very hard not to stare at Jake, “Oh my god, Y/N, you won’t have to worry about me seeing you. I’m going to pour shampoo into my eyes until I go blind.”
Jake realizes you’re taking a little too long getting ready, cocking a hip as he leans his head back to stare down his nose at you, “So what, you gonna ditch dinner, Y/L/N? Whatcha waitin’ for?”
“She’s waiting for you to stop being a perv and turn around,” Bradley comes to your rescue once again, and thankfully, Jake seems to realize it’s a real issue, pivoting until he’s facing the shower wall.
“I think she just wants a nice view of our asses,” Jake theorizes, standing with his clear on display, “Which is better, Y/N? Mine or Chicken’s?”
“Chicken,” Rooster grumbles under his breath, and if you were brave enough to actually declare a winner, you’d give it to him just for that. But, Hangman’s form is rather impressive, all tight curves and tan skin and-
And you shouldn’t be looking. You clear your throat awkwardly, peeling off your rash guard as Jake sponges his side down. There’s sand running thick down the drain and you hope it doesn’t back up, something you’d feel terrible for Penny to have to clean up.
“Uh,” Bradley stills in his place, “Shit, I think I left my shampoo over there. Y/N, could you…?”
“I got it,” You hum, reaching over for the blue bottle and tucking it in his carefully, blindly outstretched hand, “Thanks for, um- here.”
“Yep,” He nods, smearing a dot of the substance on his palm and lathering it through his hair.
“Oh no,” Jake mimics Bradley’s previous predicament, dropping the bottle in his hand so that it rests between his legs, “Y/N, could you-”
“Ass,” You drawl, reaching forwards to butt your palm against his back. He stumbles forward with a laugh, catching himself on the railing. He bends down to reach for it and you’re nervous he’ll peek at your body from between his legs, but he stays respectful, something you know he is at his core even if he pretends differently.
You find yourself relaxing against the tiled floor of the shower, feet firmly planted instead of poised to run. As much as you know neither of the men in front of you would make any rude comments about your body or your weight, there’s still the nauseating fear that they might think differently of you having seen you completely unobscured. So you’re thankful for the privacy, that lasts… well, until it doesn’t.
The snap of your conditioner cap catches the skin of your pointed finger in its jaws and a gasp clutches tight at your lungs.
“Son of a bitch!” You cry, waves of pain flowing through your finger and out towards the rest of them. On cue each man turns, eyes wide and fear-stricken, without thinking.
You know they didn’t do it on purpose. You know they instinctively thought you were hurt, and wanted to help. You know they didn’t mean to look at you. But the withering feeling in your guts knows no logic, only fear.
They’re looking, it hisses, They’re looking at everything. The way your stomach pudges into a roll at the base. The way your breasts sag. The way your thighs stretch, marks littering their stems, and present no gap.
“You’re bleeding.” Bradley observes, eyes trained faithfully on your finger, “I’ll get a bandaid.”
He rushes for the cabinets outside the shower, dripping water over the floor. Jake stands, staring, but you’re too humiliated to glance at his face and notice the soft pinky blush on his cheeks that’s spreading to his ears.
“Here,” Bradley speaks from behind you, though he molds himself to your side when you’re still frozen in fear. He brushes a towel over your cut, the turquoise material staining red. He then undoes the waxy paper wrapping from the bandaid, sticking it tight to your skin.
“It’ll get wet,” He reminds you, “But it’ll stop soap from stinging it.”
You don’t even thank him. At your prolonged silence he glances up at Hangman, intent on giving him a concerned glance, but he sees the man’s eyes rove over your form and snaps.
“Dude,” Bradley utters gruffly, “Don’t be a perv. Come on, turn around.”
When Jake stays just as still as you, he reaches for him, shoving hard, “I said turn around!:
“Please, Jake,” You whimper, tears brimming in your eyes, “Turn around.”
“You’re crying.” Jake snaps out of his trance to frown up at you, and Bradley keeps pushing, an insistent thorn in his side, “Why are you crying?”
“Because you’re-!” You gush, lip wobbling, “You’re looking at me, and- and judging me, and-”
“Judging you,” He scoffs, eyes nearly bugging out of his head, “Best body I’ve ever seen. Case closed. Court dismissed.”
“Shut up,” You seethe, tears finally dripping down your cheeks, “Just shut up! You think this is fucking funny? You don’t think there’s a reason I didn’t want to shower with you?”
“You’re private, I get that.” He scoffs. “But if you think I’m judgin’ any part’a that, then you’re stupid, too.”
“Not the compliment you think it is,” Bradley mutters, hands still prying at Jake’s shoulder, “She told you to turn around, just do it.”
“No,” Jake doubles down, pushing Bradley away and stalking towards you, “I wanna know why you think so goddamn low of me. You really think I’d rope a woman into a shower and then pick apart what she looks like? You think that low of me?”
“It’s not about you,” You gush, hands at your sides in frustration, “It's about me! And my fucking body, okay? I’m not calling you a dick for judging me, I’m calling myself-”
“What?” Jake’s head tilts to the side, eyes glinting dangerously, “What are you calling yourself?”
“....Gross.” You finish lamely, the fire in your chest extinguishing with the poof of a sigh that escapes your lips.
He’s grabbing your hand without thinking about it, gentle but firm. You stare at him, anxiety-riddled.
“Listen here, girly. I’ve let you get away with sayin’ a lotta things about yourself. Dumbass I agree with, especially considering these circumstances. I’ve heard clumsy and stubborn, those I don’t have an issue with either. But don’t look me in my fuckin’ face and tell me you’re gross, ‘cause it’s an insult to me and my tastes.”
He squeezes your hand once before releasing it, and it feels more now like a heartfelt gesture than a threatening one. You’re breathing heavy, lungs cut short from the adrenaline of the moment, Even though Bradley isn’t pushing him anymore, standing on the sidelines waiting, watching, Hangman turns around without another word. He scrubs aggressively through his scalp and you’re almost surprised nothing bleeds, your mouth hung slightly open and your tongue leaden over your teeth.
“I’m not your type.” You finally manage to mutter, voice taut.
“Yes you are,” Jake scoffs, “How would you know?”
“I saw you eyeing up Phoenix earlier.” You roll your eyes, and if Bradley hadn’t turned around again you’d have flashed him an exasperated look.
“So? A man can like several shapes,” Jake boasts, voice losing venom, “Plus I ogle Phoenix just to piss her off.”
“It works.” Bradley cuts in, and you snort.
“Point is,” Jake drawls, and you’re sure if Bradley was in his line of sight he’d have been the victim of a very withering stare, “Don’t discredit yourself. You’ve got sexy ass thighs, woman.”
“Jesus, Jake,” Bradley sighs, “Can you just hurry up, already? I’m sure there’s nothing more Y/L/N wants than to get rid of you.”
“Oh, shut up, lapdog,” Jake deadpans, “You can’t tell me you don’t agree.”
Bradley’s silent for a moment, and your gut churns.
“Whether I do or don’t is irrelevant,” He chooses his words carefully, “Let’s just leave Y/N alone.”
“He totally does,” Jake snickers, “Hear that, Y/L/N? It’s his blush.”
“Like you weren’t blushing!” Bradley scoffs, “I looked up at you and thought you’d been temporarily replaced with a baboon’s ass.”
“Oh, that’s funny,” Jake drawls, “That’s what I think every time I see you, porn stache. Then I remember it’s just your natural charm.”
The crisis has been averted enough for you to let out a shaky laugh at their insults, and the sound catches both men’s attention.
“Listen, Y/L/N,” Jake starts, voice much kinder and softer now, “The point of this isn’t me telling Bradshaw he’s got the face of an ass. The point is to get it through your thick fuckin’ skull; you’re pretty damn sexy, y’hear?”
You snort at his callous nature, “No one’s ever told me anything like that before.”
“Yeah?’ He pauses,towel in hand that he nimbly swings over his shoulder, “Well, pardon me for lookin’, and even more for touchin’, but everyone else is fuckin’ insane.”
Before you can process his words he reaches down to palm at your thigh, a hefty squeeze that sends your flesh spilling against his palm. You stiffen, even though he stays politely away from your ass, encroaching only on territory he could also grab while you’re clothed. The feeling of his touch, no matter how chaste, elicits a noise from your throat that you wish you could pass off for a scream.
It’s not.
It’s a moan.
He stops where he’d begun pulling away, eyes sharpening slightly. You don’t dare look at Bradley, but if you did, you’d see his cock twitch.
“Did I hurt you?” Jake asks, voice low.
All you can do is shake your head, teeth digging into your lower lip helplessly.
“Did you like it?” He tries again, but this time he doesn’t accept body language as an answer/ Still hunched, he ignores your nodding and reaches up with his free hand to tug your bottom lip out from under your teeth.
“I asked you a question,” Jake croons, voice smooth and soft, “Did you like it?”
All you can whimper is a meager ‘Yes’.
Do you want me to do it again?”
“Yes.” Stronger, this time.
His hand plants itself firmly back over your thigh, thumb stretching towards the curve of your ass this time. It’s a little more suggestive, and a lot more alluring.
“Jesus,” Jake groans, kneading the soft flesh of your doughy thigh between his fingers, “Bradshaw, c’mere for a second.”
He hesitates, “Do you want me there, Y/N?”
“Yes,” You nod once more, legs stiffening and thigh tensing against Jake’s palm, “I- I do.”
“You take front,” Jake instructs, falling into place behind you with his hands now greedily prying at your ass, “And I’ll take back.”
The smile that Bradley offers you when he steps in front of you is nothing short of dreamy. It’s enough to make you blush, and he lets out a soft, breathy laugh at how forward Hangman is being while he stands giddily in front of you.
“If you say hi,” Jake drawls, hooking his chin over your shoulder and reaching around your front to grip at the seams of your inner thighs while glaring at Bradley suspiciously, “I’m going to slap you.”
“I wasn’t going to say hi,” Bradley scoffs, and you can tell by his blush that he totally was.
“Jesus, enough yammering,” Jake scoffs, turning his head to press his dewy lips into your neck, “We’re gonna be late for dinner.”
You worry, for a moment, that he’ll let go. That he’ll walk away, get dressed for the restaurant, and pretend nothing ever happened. But that’s not what he does, of course. Instead, you feel the hard press of his cock against your ass.
“I’ll be gentle,” Jake croons, feeling you tense as his hands smooth over the dip of your ass, “We’ll go slow, okay?”
“Real slow,” Bradley murmurs, and it catches your attention, reeling it back to him. You realize he’s standing much closer to you now than he had been before, lips nearly brushing yours.
The second your lips meet his in a kiss, Hangman smooths his hand between the globes of your ass. You squirm at the sensitive feeling, foreign as his fingertip brushes against your hole. But he doesn’t let up, and neither does Bradley.
Rooster’s tongue slides against your bottom lip, warm and wet. At the same time Hangman’s hands squeeze your ass, pulling apart each side and smoothing down the skin between. It sends a shiver up your spine that escapes in a puff of air between your lips, one that Bradley eagerly swallows.
Bradley’s hands grab your cheeks, thumbs brushing near your eyes and yanking you closer. You can feel Jake’s fingers carefully prodding and pressing at the tight ring of your asshole, a hitch in your breath causing you to bite down on Bradley’s lip.
“Fuck,” He hisses, coming away with a red lip and a guttural groan, “Jake, just- let up. Me first, she’s obviously sensitive.”
“She’s just tight,” Jake murmurs, lips pressing to the expanse of your shoulder, “Nothin’ I can’t fix.”
“You’ll have plenty of time to fix it,” Bradley grumbles, tearing a condom open with his teeth that he’d snagged from his wallet, “‘Cause I’m going in first, and you- shit!”
His fingers, slippery from the water and probably excess soap, drop the condom. The way that you’re arched into Hangman’s touch means that your thighs are squeezed together and bent slightly, and there’s no better way to catch a condom than between your thighs.
The foil wrapper sticks between your legs, making it easy for Bradley to pluck it out and toss the wrapper aside. Penny will find it tomorrow, because you’re sure as hell not gonna remember to get it.
“Well, whaddya know,” Jake drawls, grinning against the skin of your neck so hard you can feel it, “What they say is true. Thick thighs save lives.”
You face-plant into the water-dropped skin of Bradley’s neck, ignoring the way Hangman snickers.
“Actually, I think they just stopped a life from being conceived,” Bradley reasons, only a few sloppy strokes of his cock needed to easily slip the condom on, “But that probably saved my life, ‘cause if I got you pregnant in Penny’s bathroom, she’d slit my throat.”
The tip of Bradley’s hardened dick presses to your inner thigh, skin seldom touched and sensitive. You lean into it, but Hangman’s fingers follow, gently stroking over the rim of your ass. It’s starting to feel less foreign and more pleasurable, a twinge of something sweet licking at the underside of your belly like a rogue flame.
Bradley gently presses two fingers against your slit, ever-considerate in making sure you’re sufficiently prepped, but his eyes widen at how much slick he’s greeted with just past your folds.
“Holy shit,” He breathes, nose nudging yours as his lips brush with your own, “You’re wet.”
“Duh,” Hangman scoffs, and one of his hands abandons your ass to slip between your folds, collecting slick on their tips and dragging it back to your ass, “I’ve been touchin’ up on her for a while now.”
“Pardon me for thinking that’d work like an umbrella on a rainy day,” Bradley bitches, but you cut him off with a kiss before he can spout any other mildly insulting metaphors for how bad he thinks Hangman is in bed. You’ll vouch if you have to, he knows what he’s doing.
With each slow circle that his fingers trace around your rim, you bend back into him. Until you can feel his cock pressed stiff to your backside,just as Bradley presses his tip flush with your clit.
“Oh-,” You gasp, clit sending a shockwave of electric lust reverberating throughout your body, “Bradley, I- Inside, please, now!”
“I’m coming, sweetheart,” He croons, speaking in a velvety soft hum against your lips, “Don’t worry.”
He holds to his promise, sliding his dick down from where it’s pressed to your clit and easing it between your folds. You heave a blissful sigh at the feeling of being full, and it makes you rock backwards into Hangman’s fingers.
One breaches your hole, slipping inside with an agonizingly pleasurable burn. The stretch feels heavenly, especially because your cunt is already stretched to accommodate Bradley’s cock that slowly bottoms out inside of you.
“Good,” Jake praises, kissing beneath your ear, “I knew you could do it.”
Rooster lets out a groan at the feeling of your involuntary clench around him, eyes screwed shut. His forehead is braced against yours and you take the liberty of engaging him in another kiss, letting the pleasure of Jake’s fingers at your hole compel you to lick into Bradley’s mouth.
Being pleasured from both sides is too overwhelming. You feel yourself already rising to a climax, pressed on by both Bradley’s thick cock grating against your insides and Jake’s fingers.
You smooth your tongue over Bradley’s, gripping his shoulder when he increases his pace to be steadily fast. He’s not speeding through anything, but he’s not slow either, and it makes your insides burn.
The feeling of his cock ramming over and over and over against that spongy spot deep within you is too much, especially when Hangman slides a single, thick finger into your ass. You can’t help it, your orgasm hits you like a freight train (or perhaps a fighter jet), and you clench sporadically around Bradley’s thick, hard cock.
You whine relentlessly into his mouth, fingers clawing and prying at his damp skin as your knees go weak. You’re surprised you stay standing at all, but you funnel all of your orgasmic vigor into the kiss that Bradley eagerly licks out of you, and clutching his shoulders is enough.
Coming down from your high is jarring, especially when you realize that the steady pressure against your clit had been Bradley’s thumb the entire time. The pleasurable sensation is starting to sour with the unpleasant sting of overstimulation, and you tear his hand away eagerly, “Too much.”
“Sorry,” Bradley grunts into the kiss, the bristles of his mustache grating at your lip.
Bradley pulls out of you, still hard and red-tipped.
Jake takes one look down, his free hand sliding up your back while his other stays firm at your ass, “Those were pretty sounds. Look’t what they did to Bradshaw. See that, honey?”
You nod, breathless as you stare at Bradley’s impressive length.
“I think you should return the favor,” Jake muses, putting pressure against your back so that you bend in half, “Suck him off, darlin’.”
You land at eye-level with Bradley’s covered cock, and you can’t get the condom off fast enough. You drag your tongue along the underside of Bradley’s hard dick, taking the heated length into your hands and squeezing fondly at his balls. He swears low and gruff under his breath, watching your tongue snake against his slit.
Your lips curl around the head of Bradley’s cock, and the way that Jake adds a second finger to your ass makes you suck hard. You feel Bradley’s cock twitch on your tongue, and you scrape your teeth feather-light along him as you take more of him into your mouth.
He tries to keep himself still, tries not to face-fuck you, but he’s hopeless. His hips jolt forwards and you gag at the feeling of his dick hitting the back of your throat. It makes him groan, fists clenched at his side.
You bob and suckle along every inch of Bradley’s dick, licking up the vein that runs along the side and hollowing your cheeks while Jake fingers you open. When there are suddenly no fingers in your ass anymore at all, you whimper, taking Bradley’s cockhead into your fist while you try craning your neck to look back at Hangman.
“Keep going,” Jake directs you, nodding his head towards your fist, “He’s not done, and neither am I.”
You slip the hand that’s curled around Rooster’s dick and slide it up his length, rubbing gently at the base while you kitten lick the head. He pants and groans, bucking into your fist and subsequently your throat. The feeling of Jake’s dick pressed tight to your stretched hole makes you jolt forwards, and you face-fuck yourself on Bradley’s dick.
“Jesus,” He hisses, “You’re- you’re good at this, baby. C’mon, a- a little more, now.”
You let out a scream muffled by Bradley’s cock as Jake slides himself into your ass, dick grating delightfully tight against your rim. Once he bottoms out he sets a merciless pace, giving you no time to adjust before you’re being hammered into like he’s a feral animal.
“See that, Bradshaw?” Jake boasts, sending a hefty slap to your ass, “Told you she could do it. Perfect ass.”
“I see,” Bradley pants, hands tangled in your hair while you bob on his cock, “I- I’m gonna cum, honey.”
There’s barely any warning before the sight of Jake’s cock ramming into your ass gets to be too much for Bradley, but you don’t need it. You’re perfectly content to welcome his warm seed down your throat, letting it paint the inside of your mouth as you tongue him dry.
You don’t realize you’re using Bradley’s cock as a pacifier until he pushes at your forehead, hissing in oversensitivity, “Okay, okay! It’s too much,” He soothes you by sticking two of his slick-stained, thick fingers between your lips instead, “Here, honey. There y’go.”
Drool gathers at the seam of your lips and Bradley smears it away from your mouth, gathering it on his palm and licking it away. He groans at the taste, his own seed permeating your saliva, “Messy girl.”
Jake isn’t satisfied with his lack of action. Apparently, jackhammering into your ass isn’t quite enough for the guy, and he fists a hand in your hair to yank you upright with a grunt.
Bradley’s fingers slip from your lips with a pop and you cry out as Hangman manhandles you, pleasurable pain flooding your senses from the hair-pulling that start waves of a second orgasm swelling below your belly.
“Open,” Jake commands, keeping your neck bent backwards so that his face hovers over yours. You open your mouth without hesitation, and he spits inside.
Warm saliva, cooling quickly the more you stick your tongue out, pools by your throat. You eagerly swallow without being told,drool now seeping backwards down your face and towards your eyes. Jake licks it off with a broad, wet swipe of his tongue, and smears it against your lips.
The kiss is messy, upside-down and drooly, but it’s hot. Jake’s tongue licks against yours and his teeth nip at your bottom lip, a real spider-man style porno.
Your spine aches from being bent like a curly-q, but the ecstasy bleeding into your core is enough to push it to the back of your mind. You reach down to finger your clit, a whimper bleeding into Jake’s mouth at the action.
“Gonna cum, honey?” Jake drawls, “Sweet pussy’a yours gonna clench around nothin’?”
His southern drawl is stronger when he’s fucking, you note. It’s attractive.
“Not nothing,” Bradley volunteers, sticking his spit-soaked fingers up into your gaping cunt, “Cum, baby.”
You’re very good at following orders.
Your second orgasm hurts, in the best way. It tears you apart from the inside out, cunt clenching tight at Bradley’s fingers as he curls them inside of you. Jake bites hard at your lip as you ride out your second orgasm, and his dick twitches inside of you once, twice, three times before he’s letting himself go in tandem.
He fills you with warm cum, the substance gushing out of your gaped hole and oozing out around his own cock.
“Jesus fuck,” He snaps, the words an unintelligible grunt against your lips, “So tight, and so sexy.”
Bradley’s free hand braces itself on your stomach, and the touch doesn’t make you recoil like it normally would. It’s lewd, but being splattered with their cum really makes you believe that they’re not going to judge your body.
Instead you lean into the touch, letting Bradley embrace you as you come down from your high a moaning pile of mush.
“Slow,” You warn Jake, who’s never heard the word a day in his life. He follows directions, though, easing his dick out of you and making sure it doesn’t burn.
“We need another shower,” Bradley pants after a moment of fucked-out silence.
You nod, brain foggy, “Yeah. We- we can’t show up to the restaurant smelling like sex. They’ll know.”
--
As it turns out, you don’t need to smell like sex for everyone to know you’ve just had it. You show up forty-five minutes late, sweaty-faced and rosy-lipped, all slightly out of breath. Your dress is rumpled, and Bradley’s tie is haphazardly secured.
“Oh,” Phoenix grimaces, nose scrunching in disgust, “Gross, guys.”
“In my bathroom?” Penny looks aghast, “You better not have clogged the shower drain.”
“Easy,” Maverick throws a hand out over her own, “We’ve done it in there one too many times to judge.”
“Gross!” Payback rears away from the older pilot sitting next to him, “Everybody needs to stop getting laid, but if you do, don’t tell me about it!”

#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw fluff#bradley bradshaw oneshot#bradley bradshaw angst#bradley bradshaw blurb#bradley bradshaw drabble#bradley bradshaw x reader fanfiction#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw smut#rooster x reader#rooster imagine#rooster smut#rooster fanfiction#rooster x reader fanfiction#rooster oneshot#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader fanfiction#hangman x reader#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin x you#hangman fic rec#rooster fic rec#honey's faves 🍯
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#norrisdriver nav#gracereblogs#graceposting#i told queue i was down bad#you wanted a song#grace + txt#grace + nsfw!#grace + recs#grace + lando🧡#grace + max💙#grace + daniel🍯
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THE SINNERS WELCOME YOU TW: noncon and yanderes ahead
Hi! I'm val and this is where you can find everything I've written. Maybe bring protection? These boys are not nice.
Requests: closed for now
What I won't write about: pregnancy

Yandere Drabbles, Imagines & Oneshots [part two]
Part One
These are my primary masterlists. They have the most variety, with yanderes from different genres and time periods. Dirty cops, corrupt politicians, sleazy and dangerous boyfriends. Pirates, princes and poets too. Is your yandere sick, twisted and hopelessly in love? This is where you'll find them.

Yandere Fairytales
Dark and sinful, these stories are from a time long ago. When the gods still walked the earth and when monsters wore the skin of men and when a bride could still be built out of wishes and blood. In a time and place far, far away...

Yandere Movie Week
A fun side project where we watch and review seven yandere movies! What can you expect? Popcorn (obviously) but also in-depth reviews, breakdowns of yandere tropes in cinema, and short fics inspired by the movies. Are you ready for plenty of psycho men, shirtless shower scenes, and constant torment? If so, get your snacks ready, bring out your favourite dubiously legal pirating website and let Yandere Movie Week begin!

Yandere Cyberpunk Fairytales
A futuristic retelling of all the classic bed time stories. The world you know spans the stars. Cities soaked in neon and tropical rain. Neo Direwolves and cybernetic implants. Drug lords and oligarchs. But some stories will always repeat themselves.

Misery - A Yandere Short Story
Based on Misery by Stephen King [Currently ongoing] Stuck in the mountains, you foolishly decide to drive through a blizzard. The man that drags you from your wrecked car brings you to his cabin and patches you up. But as the snow piles up outside, you start to suspect that your rescuer's intentions may be far from pure.

Art & Doodles
Want a masterpiece of yandere art? Look no further!

You can also check out my moodboards, writing advice, blog recs and upcoming works.
Want to know if you missed any updates? Check out my monthly writing wrapped.
Current Anons: 🍪, 🐰, ♥️, 🐧, 🧷, 📌, 📮, ⚙ 🤖, 🍯, 🦚, 💵, ⭐, 💗, 🌙, 🐳, 💣 ,🌷, 🪩 voidic yapping anon, 🌸, 🌊, 🐉, 🎀, 🍒, 🚦, 🪷, anglingforlevels, 🥀, 🪐,☀️, 🕺, ✨🐾
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This is literally one of my fav series ever. @roosterforme is so, so, so freaking talented. Thank you, Emily, for this wonderful piece.
Batting Practice masterlist (Rooster x Reader)
Bradley gets roped into helping Bob coach tee ball, even though he knows nothing about kids. But he is immediately charmed by his team and one of the moms. Also check out The Curveball which accompanies this fic! roosterforme masterlist
Thanks to @mak-32 for this beautiful banner!

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Part 11
Part 12
Part 13
Part 14
Part 15
Part 16
Part 17
Part 18
Part 19
Part 20
Part 21
Part 22
Part 23
Part 24
Part 25
Part 26
Part 27
Part 28
Part 29
Part 30
Part 31
Part 32
Part 33
Want more of Bob and Molly? Check out The Curveball.
#honey's faves 🍯#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader#tgm fic rec#top gun maverick fic rec#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x you#rooster fic rec
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here, have some honey 🍯
mira's fic recs
sundered series - gojo x fem!reader author: @tojikai
please, love me - simon riley x fem!reader author: @rowarn
me and your mama - dilf!reiner x fem!reader author: @kentos-filmcamera
heartstrings 'n bullets - assassin!toji x fem!reader author: @sttoru
still in love - ex-husband!toji x fem!reader author: @classyrbf2
living room flow - bonus - toji x fem!reader author: @satorena
matrimony - toji x fem!reader author: @lemonlover1110
unexpected story - mma!toji x fem!reader author: @spideyyeet (mother of mma!toji, go read it all its so yummy)
more to come...
stay sweet! ♡ 🐝
#mira's fic recs ♡#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost x reader#reiner braun#reiner x reader#toji fushiguro#toji x reader
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Now that I am not an anon anymore I have to share a Leeknow headcannon I have.
I think that (especially husband Lee Know) does those little sexy dances he does on you.
Whether you are just chilling on the couch and he just gives you a little lap dance or you guys are cooking something. Istg that man will do those moves and wiggle his eyebrows and wink at you while he does it.
There’s a reason the others said he has the most rizz (also I kinda hate the word rizz but idc rn)
Love ya💗🫶🏼
LEE KNOW ONE-SHOT

🍯•[your favorite]•🍯
Warnings//genre:: mentions knives (cooking) smut, lap dance (?) Oral (f rec) creampie, kitchen sex, praise and degradation
Pairing:: dom!husband!minho x sub!wife!reader
A/N:: HEHE okay so I've thought of this prompt before for minho (and other members) but I never committed to it bc it is such a hard prompt to write for in my opinion but since it was a request I had to. but I love stepping out of my comfort zone!! tbh best part of reqs is when I lowkey doubt if I can even finish writing the fic
Skz masterlist:: 🍯
🎧::
As much as Minho tries to act like he's all cool and stern he is a little manwhore for attention, especially attention from his lovely wife. You'll be anywhere and he's glancing up at you 24/7 and anytime he gets the chance to brush his shoe or arm up against you, he'll take it.
Currently you're in the kitchen, cutting up some vegetables for dinner as the pan sizzles beside you. Minho comes up behind you, pressing his body up against yours, and wraps his hands around your waist. "Smells good baby," He cooes in your ear, resting his chin on your shoulder. "What is it?"
"You'll have to wait and see," You smirk and he rolls his eyes with a little huff. "That's what you always tell me," You shrug as Minho rolls off of you, leaning back against the counter next to you. You notice his staring gaze as you stay laser focused on mincing the vegetables to perfection.
"You're so hot when you're focused," He tilts his head as he continues to stare at you, eyes never wavering. "The way your eyes stay fixated, the slight furrow of your brows, the way your lips look so relaxed and natural," He rubs his thigh up against you as you try to focus. "C'mon baby, look at me," Minho raises his knee higher, brushing up against your inner thigh and you jump, the flow of your hands interrupted. You turn to look at him and there it is, the mischevious little grin.
"Minho," You say in a warning tone, like Minho was getting into something he wasn't supposed to.
"Mmm, yes?" He smiles, as if he was innocent.
"I'm trying to cook dinner," You sigh and he fake pouts before smirking.
"And I'm trying to get you all riled up, is it working?" He chuckles and you huff. He in fact was turning you on, way too much. You good feel the stir in your stomach, the excitement bubbling up and threatening to spill over and make you do something you'll regret. "Come on~ Dinner can wait," He takes your hand, plucking your fingers off the knife, before setting the knife down.
"You're so..." You try to come up with some kind of insult but the way he looks at you, that little grin and eyes full of promise and lust, you just can't resist. "Fine," You huff and turn off the stove and you watch as the smile spreads across his face.
"Yay!" He cheers before taking your hand, pulling you over to the dining table. He pulls out a chair. "Sit, sit," He encourages with that little grin and you know what you're in for.
"What do you have in mind?" You sit down and look up at him.
"Your favorite," He smirks and you look a little confused. What did he mean by your favorite? That could be a lot of things really. Suddenly the room filled with some of your favorite songs Minho plays during intimate hours and you thought that's what he meant by your favorite, but he started dancing. Not some kind of jig, a slow sensual dance that highlighted all of his best physical features. You found your eyes drawn to his hips. The way he moves them in a slow yet powerful thrust showcases his practice with such movement.
"Minho," You say under your breath, utterly inticed by his hypnotic and erotic dance.
"Shh, baby," he approaches you on your little throne, putting a hand to the head of the chair and the other to your lips. "Just watch, your eyes tell me everything," He trails his hands down to your thighs before grabbing your knees and parting your legs. You jump at the sudden urgency in his actions compared to his slow sensual dance. He makes quick work of your pants and panties. The music still rings in the back ground as his lips approach your aching core. He lifts your legs up onto his shoulders, making you slip down the chair a little.
Minho grins at your little gasp before bury his head between your legs, taking one long lick up your folds. A soft moan escapes your lips at the relief of his mouth on your throbbing pussy, but Minho doesn't keep it relaxing for long. He follows the pace of the music, as it gets more intense so does his methods, slurping and sucking on your folds.
"Minho!" You jump as his nose presses up against your clit as his tongue pokes in and out of your slit as far as it can. You grab a fistful of his hair as your head falls back, your chest heaving more and more with each moan. Minho brings his hands up to spread your folds a little more, pulling at the skin before sticking his tongue in deeper. You let out a little squeal as you feel his tongue rubbing up against your g-spot and his nose puts pressure against your clit. Your legs tremble with the intensity of your orgasm as the song comes to a perfect end.
Minho licks up your mess before pulling himself up to his feet, standing over you. As the next song begins he practically sits on top of you, grinding his bulge against your dripping cunt, soaking his pants in your wetness. You feel the throb of his cock, begging to be released.
"Do you want my cock baby?" He teases and you nod with a whimper.
"Yes, please," You look up at him as he grinds his hips against yours, following the music once again.
"You're gonna have to beg a little more than that angel," He chuckles and you whine at the torture of his cock being right there but not inside you.
"Please minho," You plead, tugging at his shirt like a kitten. He tilts his head as he looks down at you, seeming amused by your pleading tugs. "I-I need your cock, minho~" You whine, a little louder this time and he smirks, clearly loving this dynamic. You bring your hands down to his black jeans, kneading at the fabric separating the two of you.
"You're so cute when you beg," He chuckles before stepping back. He takes off his shirt in the slowest way possible, teasing you as every inch of fabric reveals more and more of his toned body. He then unbuckles his belt, sliding it out of the hoops before tossing it aside. His jeans then follow suit, left discarded to the side. "Get up darling," He takes your hand and pulls you up before bending you over the table. He runs a hand over the curve of your ass before leaning down, his cock pressing up against your thigh. "You're gonna take everything I'm gonna give you, right?"
"Yes," You whine softly making him chuckle lowly.
"Good girl," He pats your ass, not hard, but just as a form of praise. He rubs the head of his cock against your folds a few times before finally easing inside you. He nestles his cock nice and deep, resting there for a while as you moan softly. He begins to slowly move in and out of you, once again following the pace of the music, but each thrust is deep and hard, making the table jiggle. As you rest against the table your eyes roll back, your lip tucked between your teeth.
"Just like that," You moan, "It feels so good," Your voice is higher pitched than usual, showing your desperation and pleasure.
"Yeah? You like that?" He smirks, his voice taunting. "When I fuck deep," He punctuates his words with a deep thrust, your body jumping up the table.
"Fuck!" You bury your face into your arm. "Yes, please don't stop!" You cry out as his hips move faster. The thing about Minho's thrusts is that he doesn't just go fast and hard, he has a method to how he thrusts, almost like rolling his hips, so his cock rubs up against all the right places. You feel your legs begin to tremble again, shaking beneath you.
"You close baby?" He teases, whispering in your ear, "But we just started baby," He chuckles, his hand slithers around to your clit. "It's alright, I'll have plenty of time to tease you later tonight," He growls in your ear as he rubs your clit harder and faster. "c'mon baby, let it out," He encourages in a low voice as your head begins to spin. You feel the crash of your orgasm as you let out long and high pitched moans. "Good girl," He praises before letting out a groan, emptying inside you. "fuck, yes, take it baby," He buries himself inside you, riding out the waves of pleasure with you.
After catching your breath he pulls himself up and gently slips out of you. "There, how you feeling now?" He smiles as he watches you get up, your head spinning.
"Above the fucking clouds," you chuckle and he laughs at you.
"So what were you cooking?" He says as he walks over the counter, still naked, making you chuckle to yourself.
"I was going to surprise you with your favorite meal for dinner," you smile as you sit down on the chair. Minho puts on a little apron to cover himself before washing his hands and continuing to cook dinner for you.
"Gosh, well I guess I spoiled the surprise,"
#stray kids drabbles#skz scenarios#skz smut#lee know#lee minho#minho x y/n#lee minho smut#minho x reader#minho smut#minho#stray kids minho#skz minho#skz lee know#skz reqs#skz hard asks#skz hard stan#skz hard thoughts#skz hard hours
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BPD culture is "Devil in I" by Slipknot
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"You sing to him, presenting his cake burning twenty-one yellow candles. He closes his eyes to keep the tears back, scrunching his face like he’s thinking childishly hard about what to wish for."

For You・゚✧*:・゚✧
Pairing | Eddie Munson x sunshine!reader
Warnings | 18+ only, 2,700 words of tooth rotting fluff, followed by 2,000 words of pure smut, rounded off with a bit more fluff, swearing, oral (male receiving), vaginal sex, protected sex because this reader is responsible.
Word Count | ~4,840
A/N | Everything I write about Eddie exposes me more than any fic I’ve ever written. And yes, I think I will talk about Lord of the Rings in pretty much everything I write about him.
I thank a god I’ve never met, never loved, never wanted, for you
Catching sight of Eddie’s van through the window, you turn the burner off and jog from the kitchen, sliding along the floor in your frilly socks, just short of slamming into the wall. By the time Eddie’s walking up your drive, you’ve flung the door open. Excitement bubbling, you can’t stop yourself from bouncing on your feet.
“Happy Birthday, Eddie!” You yell, reaching out for him as he approaches. His smile sends a little heat through you he looks you up and down in your sundress.
He’s so handsome, dressed for the late Summer heat. You love his jacket, love how he looks in it, but there’s something about Eddie in just one of his many band t-shirts. You can see the tattoos dotted over his pale arms, his bracelets, and his chain just peeking out from the frayed neckline of his shirt.
When Eddie reaches you, he lets you pull him into a hug, laughing at you still moving up and down.
“You’re more excited than I am,” he murmurs, pressing a short, sweet kiss to your lips.
“I love Birthdays.”
Keep reading
#an all time fav#god i'm in love with him#I've read this before but god it still makes me cry#it's exactly what our boy deserves#💗🍯🥧#recs
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4 when requests r open.. How wld u Feel abt a bear hybrid reader who’s slick is .. Honey ? 👁️
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Cw: weirdly sweet cum???, smut, oral sex, overstimulation, tell me if I missed any. Honey, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours??
Perhaps you shouldn’t have eaten so much honey, the sweet goodness that you indulged in when it was given to you in abundance, a rare treat to normal bear but a common dish to you. You loved honey like Pooh liked it, always seen with a small jar and lips stained with the sweet treat, tasting as sweet as honey whenever they walked up to kiss you, pressing themselves so close to you and lips devouring any groan from you, tongue lathering your lip to taste the honey from it and steal a taste of you from your mouth.
Gaz and Soap had always liked the sugary taste of you, your honeyed lips, your honeyed tongue and honeyed mouth, every part of you was sweet, a sugary treat to men like them when you were a big and grizzled bear. A Kodiak bear with both size and strength, but a soft and tender heart, and even sweeter lips that Gaz loved kissing and biting whenever he crossed your path, pulling you by the collar and passionately kissing you. A gentle but powerful wave crashing against you for something as simple as a taste and affection, his hands wandering down and holding you against him by the waist. Soap was more eager than Gaz, rough and devouring with his kiss, chaining you to his body by the hips, hands teasingly grasping at your ass and grinding against you to instigate you, push you further into his arms.
Then you found yourself always so, so sensitive, your core spiking in a strong pulse, sharp and boiling. You blamed it on the Scot, who couldn’t hold his tongue after he ate you like a starved man, left to dry out and hunger without food or water, gorging himself on your now sugary slick, the old tangy and salty flavour turned soft and sweet as honey. He shared it with Ghost, who had manhandled you to his room, stripping you naked and spread over his cold sheets while his tongue laved across your slit, the tip teasing your clit with soft circles and dipped into your drooling cunt. He groaned and moaned at the taste of you, burying himself between your thighs, nose bumping your throbbing nub and tongue curling deep inside of you to pull more sweet slick from your warmth and down his throat.
From Ghost, it reached Gaz, who’s ears practically perked up at the temptation, sliding from one darkened wall to the other until he found you in the rec room with a small cup of honey and a finger in your mouth. He was rather forceful - surprisingly strong against your bear-like strength - in his demand, bending you over the counter, ass upturned and head buried in your arms while you mewled and panted, left a victim to Gaz’s skillful tongue. The way he dove in and curled, swirling your sweet slick around his tongue and drinking it all in, his lips placed firmly around your fluttering hole, drinking your cum like he would water.
The from him, Price was the last to be aware, ordering you to his office for a taste. You sent his papers and pens to the floor, your flaying arms knocking things over in your search for purchase while he held you down by the hip, groaning when you closed your thighs around his head and fingers pulling his hair, locked in and tugging him closer and closer. He murmured praises, complimenting you for your magical body —one of a kind, he said, to have one’s slick tasting like honey.
They left you panting and limping, walking around the halls with a powerful throb between your legs after every servings, grumbling under your breath at their insatiable tongues. Perhaps you shouldn’t have made it a habit, now that they made it a show of stocking up your reserve of honey with bigger and larger containers, grins stretching the corners of their lips.
Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce
#x reader#cod mw2#cod mw2 x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost mw2#mw2 smut#simon riley x reader#soap mw2#john soap mactavish#soap x reader smut#soap x reader#soap smut#gaz mw2#gaz x reader#gaz smut#gaz x reader smut#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick x reader#john price#captain price#captain john price#price mw2#price x reader#price smut#task force 141 x reader#task force 141 smut#task force 141#poly relationship#poly 141 x reader
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