#TGM Smut

[goosewithtwoos]

TOO SWEET

pairing: bob x reader

summary: bobs just too sweet

“You’re just,” you struggle to find the right words. “too sweet.”

Bob furrows his brow. “Too sweet?” He asks, placing down his tea.

“Yeah, that’s you’re problem. You’re too sweet. You let people walk over you. You need to have a bit of a backbone if you want to be respected.” You explain.

The two of you were sitting in his living room, having just come back from a morning run. You hated cardio - weight lifting was a much better workout in your opinion - but Bob was a runner and had wanted you to join him for a run for so long you finally gave in.

His Naval Academy shirt was faded in stark contrast to his blue PT shorts. You’d never be caught dead in PT uniform outside of the work day but somehow he made it work.

During the run, he had been explaining how this new command was trying to keep him from hops and began training him as an unmanned aircraft system operator. Of course, it was nice to have this extra knowledge but he was a WSO and should be treated as such. He talked for most of the run, mainly because you couldn’t speak for more than three sentences without getting winded, so now was your time to offer advice.

“There’s nothing wrong with being firm.” You sip your now lukewarm coffee, making a flippant gesture with your hand.

Bob shifted in his seat. “I don’t want to seem belligerent. It is a good opportunity.”

“But it’s keeping you from your primary job.” You roll your eyes. “Come on, Bobby, you don’t actually want to be some drone operator, do you?”

His eyes dipped. “No.”

“There you go!” You exclaim. “Tell them that. Exactly like that. You want to be a WSO. You’re amazing at your job anyways, they’d be stupid to keep you from it.”

A light dust of pink began to cover Bobs’ cheeks. You knew he had a hard time receiving compliments and always tried to brush them off. Your current attempts at getting him to accept compliments was exposure therapy and you tried to interject as many as possible during your conversations.

“I’m not that good…” He mumbles into his tea as he takes another sip.

You snap your fingers at him, shaking your head. “This is what I mean. You’re letting people get into your head. Take the compliment.” He dipped his head lower, taking another lengthy sip to avoid speaking. “This is where you say, ‘You’re right’ and ‘Thank you, I know I’m amazing’.”

“I can’t say that if it’s not true.”

You couldn’t tell if you wanted to kill him or squish him. He was so adorable and yet made you want to pull your hair out. It was quite a confusing mix.

“Robert. For once, if you’ve ever loved me, take the compliment.” You say, placing down your cup.

He shrugs a little which makes you gasp in mock horror before he smiles. “Of course I love you but it’s just hard to accept.”

You shrink back in your seat, crossing your legs. “Who hurt you?” You mumble more to yourself than to him. “Have you ever taken a compliment?”

“Of course!” He cries.

You raise a brow. “Three examples, now.”

“One, when I received my acceptance to the Academy and had my college counselor beaming with pride. She told me I had done well.” He looked proud of himself remembering that one. “Two, when I graduated and my grandmother came to see me, she said that I was the smartest in the family. And three, when I-“ His voice cut off and his ears went red.

“When?” You press, leaning forward ever so slightly.

He waves you off. “Let me think of something else. It was a bad example.”

“No, no, no,” you push. “Tell me.”

He turned away, unable to meet your eyes. “When I…I went…” his voice was growing smaller by the second. He covers his mouth with the back of his hand ever so slightly before finishing the statement. “on a girl and she called me a good boy.”

You couldn’t stop the laughter that came out of you. You’d never assumed Bob would have a praise kink, and especially not one that consisted of him being called a good boy.

“I’m sorry.” You weren’t. “I just wasn’t expecting that.”

Bob was completely red by this point, opting to drink his tea rather than respond.

“I mean, were you being a good boy?” He chokes.

Sputtering, he looks at you, eyes full of panic. “I can’t answer that!”

“Oh, come on, you can tell me. I told you about my…incidents.” Incidents was a polite way to put it. Bob was the first person you’d go to whenever something had gone awry during on of your hookups due to his understanding and nonjudgmental nature. No matter what you’d say, he’d listen and nod, telling you it was always the mans fault and even though you might have called him someone else’s name, it was his problem for not having a more memorable name.

“I think I was.” He says quietly, shrugging ever so slightly.

“I bet you were.” You hum, finishing off your coffee.

Bob just stares, eyes wide and lips slightly apart. His breath hitched as he tried to form a coherent sentence. A sound that slightly resembles “Huh?” come from him and you roll your eyes.

“You’re always such a good boy, Bobby.” You mean it as a joke. You were saying it in a slightly mocking tone. So why did the words feel so right? Why were they so smooth on your lips? And why - God, why - did they seem to have such an impact on both you and him?

Something changed in his eyes. They glossed over with a feeling you didn’t think you’d ever see in him. Desire. Need.

“Say it again.” It wasn’t a question, he was demanding. Damn his pretty blue eyes.

You swallow hard. This had implications. You could tell how badly he needed it and what it was doing to him. You didn’t want to just fuck with his emotions. But you did mean it. He was a good boy. He’d always helped you with reports and post-flight write ups. He always went out of his way to make sure you were okay. He was such a good boy.

“You’re a good boy.”

His breath was coming out a bit harder now, and his hands had curled into fists like he was trying to keep himself from reaching out and touching you. Not like that would have been a bad thing.

“Can…” His voice failed him. He tried again. “Can I show you?”

“Show me how you’re a good boy?” You ask. Your heart was starting to race. You’d never seen this side of him before. He nods fervently. “Okay.”

It was barely a whisper. You weren’t even sure if a sound came out or you’d just mouthed the words but once you’d said them, that was all he needed.

He grabs you by the back of the head, tangling his fingers through your hair, and pulls you into a lip bruising kiss. This was definitely not sweet. This was needy, urgent, like he wanted to devour you. You kissed back, allowing yourself to melt into him. He was taking and you’d give him everything.

He leaned farther into you, pressing you backwards until you were laying on the couch. He was over you, pressing all his body weight down, and you could feel what suspiciously felt like him grinding against your thigh.

Your arms wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Your hips buck up, desperately trying to chase the friction against him.

His glasses felt cold against your skin and you smiled ever so slightly.

He moans into your mouth and pulls a hand from your hair down to your chest. Your hands grip into his shirt as he paws at you, feeling your ribs, waist, hips, anything he can get his hands on.

“Need to taste you.” He groans out, like it was paining him not to be nose deep within you. “Bet you taste so good.”

You’d never seen a man so worked up before. Bob was panting like he was in heat. And it was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

“I’m still sweaty.” You say between a laugh. He moved down to your neck, nipping at the soft skin, finding any open area and leaving a mark. He groans, pressing himself down against your thigh again.

“Bet it just makes you taste better.”

Your mind was short circuiting. Was this really the same Bob who once cried while watching a nature documentary because a penguin carried around a rock instead of an egg? The same Bob who called you when he got drunk to confess that he’d once stolen a phone charger from some gas station during a cross country trip when he’d lost his wallet at a Waffle House? Somehow, it was.

And this same Bob was pushing your shirt up and pulling your shorts down.

He looks up at you and it was a sight to behold. His mouth was slightly ajar, and his pupils blown completely wide.

“Hold these?” He asks, taking off his glasses and passing them up to you. You put them on, more as a joke than anything, but the moment he saw you wearing them, he surges forwards and kisses you again.

“So pretty.” He moans. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

You would normally feel self conscious but something about him made you feel so safe and secure. You trusted him with everything. He really was -

“Such a good boy.” You murmur as he began sliding down your body again. He stops, dropping his head so his forehead presses against your lower abdomen.

“Again.” He whispers. You could feel his breath tickling ever so slightly.

“Fuck, Robert, you’re such a good boy.” Your hand runs through his hair, pulling slightly before letting go.

He lets out a whimper before getting back to the task at hand, removing your shorts entirely, leaving you in just your underwear with your shirt pushed all the way up. He finds his place between your thighs, throwing your legs over his shoulders. It probably wasn’t the most comfortable position for him but in that moment, you were sure he couldn’t care less.

He licks you through your panties, moaning when your legs tense around his head.

“Please.” You moan when his tongue presses especially well against your clit. “Need you so bad.”

He eyes flit up to yours again, his glasses having fallen partially down your face so you could see just over the rims, and it was a miracle you didn’t come right then and there.

Feral, a man possessed.

He doesn’t even bother taking them off properly, he just pulls your panties to the side and dives in.

It was good. God, it was so fucking good. Your hand finds his hair again, pulling him impossibly closer to you. It was like he knew your body better than you did, the way he could alternate between fucking you with his tongue to sucking on your clit.

“Fuck, Robert,” you cry out. “You’re such a good boy. Oh my God, so good. Such a good boy, holy shit.” You were babbling at this point, the words didn’t make much sense in your mind but your mouth just kept moving. “My sweet boy, my good boy, fuck honey, you’re amazing.”

He pulls away and you want to cry. He presses kisses against your thigh while you try to remember how to breath properly.

“You taste so good. Wanna keep you here forever so I can have this forever.” He says.

You nod in agreement. “Please. You can. Anytime you want.”

His groan sends vibrations through you. You’re mind is a daze. Your hand cups his cheek, gently rubbing the side of his face. His stubble feels rough under your skin but the coarseness only makes your heart swell more.

“Gonna make me come like a good boy?” You ask, voice barely a whisper.

He responds by diving back in, tongue licking up your slit, collecting your wetness on his lips. Your back arches again, hips bucking. His glasses begin to slip off but your mind can’t care about anything other than the man who’s head is currently between your legs, showing you more pleasure than any man has shown you before.

He wraps his arm around so that his hands are free and you can feel his biceps tensing under your legs. The thought of his muscles had never turned you on before but suddenly, it caused a rush of heat to shoot through you.

His thumb comes down to play with your clit while his mouth still works your slit. The light teasing circles from his finger was such a different feeling from how his relentless and eager tongue was bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

You could feel that cool in your stomach tightening. Your hips were bucking more frequently and when you felt his index finger run across your folds, you knew you were a goner.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Robert, please.” You moan.

“You don’t gotta beg.” He tells you, resting his head on your thigh for a moment, taking you in. His fingers were still working you, keeping you right on the edge. “I’ll give you everything you need.” His accent was thicker than normal and you wanted to see just how deep it could get. Another time though, you didn’t want any distractions from this current event.

When his mouth connects with your clit, you swear it was a religious experience, and you were coming before you even realized it.

“Good boy, good boy, good boy.” You keep repeating as he works you down from your high. Finally, once he deems you to be clean enough, he lifts his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Do you uh…do you want anything for yourself?”

He looks to the side sheepishly. “I’m…good.” You sit up quickly and look at him. A wet spot stains his crotch just barely visible in his PT shorts. The thought of him coming just from eating you out sends another wave through you.

Perhaps a five minute intermission before round two wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

[beyondthesefourwalls]

A Verbal Agreement

Summary: You hated Jake Seresin. Truly, you did. Or at least you strongly disliked him. But as it was, he did something for you that no other man could, and it kept you coming back for more. 

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 1.2K (no one is as shocked as I am that I kept it short) 

Warnings: Smut. Dirty talk. Enemies with benefits. Language. The Blonde One™️.

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You hated him. 

Truly, you did.

Or at least that’s what you told yourself. Maybe strong dislike would be a better way to describe it. 

Jake Seresin was a smug son of a bitch. He was the bane of your existence in so many ways, and got under your skin like he was trying to burrow there and make it his home. His arrogance annoyed you, constantly walking around with a holier-than-thou attitude, like he was God’s gift to women, the Navy, and society in general. His smirk made his face punchable in a way that you were barely able to resist smacking him when he shot it in your direction. 

But damn, if his ability to string together filth didn’t drive you fucking crazy. 

“That’s it. Fuck. That’s my good girl.” 

You clenched around him at his words, a moan leaving you because of the praise. 

Dirty talk was something you considered to be an artform. It was one of your biggest turn ons, and so little men knew how to actually execute it. So often when you’d ask for it, it came out awkward, cringy or obnoxious. They fumbled over words and made everything sound so unappealing, unable to find that perfect balance of praise and degradation that you longed for, that you would barely be in the mood to finish after they spouted off what they thought was sexy. 

So it would figure, of course, that you discovered Jake was the best dirty talker you had ever been with after what was supposed to be a one time mistake after a few too many drinks at the Hard Deck. He made everything sound so flawlessly erotic and natural, you were basically a puddle for it every single time.  

It was no secret that Jake loved to hear himself talk, and this was the one situation where you not only didn’t mind, you wanted it.  

“Taking me so fucking well. You were made to take it, weren’t you baby?” 

“Yes,” you gasped, nodding rapidly, your nails dragging down his back. “Made to.” 

“Yeah you were. I’m making you feel so good, aren’t I?” 

Your moan turned into a scream of his name as a sharp smack came down on your ass, Jake nearly bending you in half as he fucked you. “Answer me.” 

You knew from knowing him for so long that he hated being ignored, especially in bed, and especially when it was about how good he was making you feel.

“Yes! Fuck!” you shouted, your voice echoing off the walls. “So good!” 

His chuckle and his smirk were both so smug, in any other situation, you would have rolled your eyes. But here, in the privacy of your apartment, it sent another wave of arousal through you, and you couldn’t help but arch into him. 

“Well, I’m glad we’ve got that straight, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice low and as smooth as velvet. “Not like you would have been able to deny it, anyway. You’re so fucking soaked, you’re making a mess of the sheets and those pretty thighs of yours. I can only imagine how good it's going to feel when I come inside of you. Is that what you want?” 

“Uh-huh,” you breathed. 

"You’re so fucking tight, baby. Sucking me in like a damn vice.” 

"Please," you whimpered. You were close; so close. But you needed more. “Please, please, please.” 

“God I love it when you beg for me.” 

He said the words almost to himself, so you didn't answer, caught in a whirlwind of lust and frustration. Jake’s hand slipped between your legs, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing fast, tight circles against it. Your vision blurred at the stimulation. 

“You want my cock so bad, don’t you?” 

“Jake.” 

You felt the edges of your control fraying, the pleasure building to a breaking point. Your whole body shook - sweet release so near that you could almost taste it. 

"Yeah, baby," he growled, his hips pounding into you even harder. His thrusts became more urgent as he neared his end, too, demanding and pointed."You want to come for me?” 

You couldn’t answer, falling into the haze of what he was making you feel. Your mind was a blank canvas, lost to the sensation of his cock filling you, all that existed was the intense sensation of him thrusting against your nerve-endings, the friction between your clit and his fingers, and the rhythm of his voice, husky and perfect, pulsing through you. 

Another smack to your ass, and then his hand found your chin, squeezing just tight enough where it drew you out of your head. He guided your gaze toward him. His eyes, always so mischievous, were dark and calculating. “Do you want to come for me?” he repeated, and you moaned at the authority ringing in your ears. 

Your voice was barely a whisper as the words tumbled out of your mouth. “Yes. Please, Jake. Make me come.” 

“Then do it. Be a good girl, and come for me. Now.” 

Your body responded to his command instantly. You arched into him, your screams echoing in the room as you shattered, your nails digging into his back. He never stopped talking, his voice coaxing as much from you as he could. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up. Come inside this sweet little pussy. And you’re going to take all of it, baby.” 

Your body felt like it was on fire. Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through you and he kept up his relentless rhythm, chasing his own release. You felt him go rigid inside you, and then his hips jerked forward once, twice, and then a third time as he joined you over the edge. He grunted out your name as you clung to him, your arms around his neck, your legs wrapped around his waist, feeling him pulse inside you.

For a few moments, you both laid there, panting as you tried to catch your breath. Jake settled more of his weight on top of you in a way that always made you feel more secure as you came down from the high, and you placed a soft kiss against his neck in appreciation.

“I still hate you,” you mumbled into his skin. 

Jake chuckled low in his throat, and then laughed even harder when the sound caused you to clench around his softening cock. He pulled out of you slowly, sliding over your sensitive flesh. You could feel his cum slipping out of you, furthering the mess between your legs. You couldn’t help but shiver as he settled on the mattress beside you, pulling you into his sweaty chest. 

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, darlin’.” 

“No, I mean it.” 

But even as you said it, you were cuddling closer to him, draping your leg over his as got comfortable. Post-orgasm was one of the only times he was quiet, or at least not as chatty, and you enjoyed basking in the afterglow that always followed these trysts. 

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and you could feel the smirk that was no doubt a mix of smug and indulgent as he did. “Sure.”

“Shhhh,” you murmured, “don’t ruin it.”

He laughed lightly, but settled down, not saying anything else. 

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Notes: I really have no idea what this is or where it came from, but here we are.

Thanks to @roosterforme @mak-32 and @sylviebell for reading it over and all your help! And to Mak for a stunning banner, as per ushe.

Main Masterlist

[murdrdocs]

house calls

description. your mechanic, JAKE SERESIN, was nice enough to do a house call for you, but he still charges you double even if you don't have the money. luckily, he takes other forms of payment!

includes. SMUT 18+ MDNI, cnc roleplay, mechanic!jake, other forms of payment role play, consensual coercion, unprotected pnv, everything consensual!

wc. 1.8k+

a/n: this was a request ... supposed to have been like 500 words (blinks). ao3 link

"I didn't think mechanics took house calls."

It takes him a second to respond to you. At first, you didn't think he even heard you. You think your line was wasted, and you were about to add onto it until he grunts and lifts his head from under the hood of your car. 

"Usually we don't. But for a client as loyal as you..." He doesn't finish his sentence verbally, instead sending you a smirk, adjusting the towel over his shoulder, and then ducking his head back under. 

You watch him work, standing near the edge of your garage, leaning against the wall with your arms crossed. From where you stand you have a perfect view of him, watching the way his back muscles strain against the tainted white fabric of his tee shirt as he works on your car. His shirt lifts every so often, exposing the smallest line of his boxers and a bit of his back. 

"You know you don't have to hover, right?" He speaks into your engine, but you can still hear him well. "I'll take good care of her."

You believe him, you know you can trust him, but you still decide to stay with him. Mostly so you have an excuse to ogle, but you pretend it’s because you’re worried about the state of your car. 

“How’d it get this bad in the first place?” He asks you. 

You shrug. “I kept forgetting to put it in the shop.” I wanted to watch you fix it for me is what you don’t tell him. 

You offer him a drink at one point, giddily bouncing over to the garage fridge and pulling out a bottle of beer for him. You get the feeling that he knows what he's doing when he pops the cap off on his belt buckle. 

You really think he's putting on when he lets a droplet of beer glide down his chin, running down the tanned skin of his neck before finally being barricaded by the collar of his shirt. 

Not that you mind, though. 

He finishes off on your car in no time, letting the hood drop as he explains what he fixed. You just smile and nod, trusting that the problem is solved and you won't have to deal with it again. You're just about to go inside to grab your wallet, the cash to cover it stuffed in there, but then he turns to face you with his hands on your hips. 

"Now since it was a house call, it's gonna cost you extra. That alright?" 

You blink up at him, trying to ignore the sparkle in his eyes as he watches your expression. 

“How much extra?” 

He winces, as if his response will cost him pain. “Double.”

You take a breath, calming yourself. "... I don't have double. I thought we already agreed on a price?" 

He tuts. “That was before I had to drive all the way out here for you, sugar. Now it's double." 

You step closer to him, getting the first whiff of his scent—strong and masculine, a musk that blends well with whatever he's wearing, whether it be cologne or body wash. 

"But Jake, I don't have double. I only have what we agreed on. And I have bills to pay, I don't get paid until next week. I can get it to you then?" You're trying to plead, but even as you say it you don't sound convincing. You're a shit haggler, you can't even convince yourself. 

"'m sorry, sweetheart," the pet name drips with sweetness and faux sincerity, "But you're gonna have to pay me now or..."

He trails off and your eyebrows lift. "Or?" 

"Or I'll have my buddies come and tow this beauty," he jerks his head towards your car. "It's just policy." He has the audacity to lift his hands in a surrender, as if the change in price isn't all his fault. 

You take a second, trying not to let your distress show as you mull over your option. 

"Or—" Jake begins again, taking a final step closer until there's just an inch between you both. An inch between your clean shirt and his dirtied one. An inch between the hard planes of his chest and the soft planes of yours. 

You lift your eyebrows expectantly, waiting for what the suggestion to get you out of deep shit would be. 

"I can accept another form of payment." 

He takes your hand in his as he says it, trailing it down his chest until it rests over his belt buckle. 

You stare down at your hand, looking at the way your manicure shines along with the bronze coloring of his belt buckle. It says something, has a depiction of a man on a horse sandwiched between two lines of text. Without even needing to read it, you know which belt buckle it is. You've seen it many times before. 

“I don’t usually offer this deal to just anyone,” he says, as if you should feel special. Really, you’re just confused. Well, you know what he wants, but you refuse to believe it. 

"I … I don't—" 

Jake doesn’t buy it. "You do. You know what I'm askin' for." His accent slips out more and more. 

He reaches out, wrapping a hand around your hip, pulling you flush against him. "C'mon, I see the way you've been looking at me. I know you want it." 

You shake your head, staring up at him with your eyebrows pinched together and your lips parted. "I can't." He lifts his eyebrows, waiting for some sort of bullshit excuse. 

You give him one. "I have a boyfriend and he'll be home any moment."

He fucking laughs, right in your face, big and boisterous as he lowers his head, lips searching for yours. "We both know that's not true. If it were true, he would be a shit boyfriend. Can't even repair your car for you—" he sucks in air through his teeth, "you would deserve better, don't you think?"

The irony. 

You wrestle out of Jake's grasp, turning around and starting for the garage door. You don't get far before Jake pulls you back, his hips pressing into you, the boner prominent beneath his working jeans. He walks you towards the car, his left leg pushing against yours and the same with his right, until your thighs hit the front end.

"What d'you say, sweetheart? You gonna pay off your debt, or do I need to call the boys?"

You would try to call his bluff, but you’re scared. Scared that he’s telling the truth and not giving in will backfire on you. With the way he’s pressing his erection into your ass, do you even have a choice?

Of course you end up paying off your debt. Even the threat of having your precious car towed (and the excitement of it all) had you already inching your mini dress up your thighs. 

Jake barely had any patience to wait for you to close the garage door, shielding you from any stray passersby. He waited by your car, watching your every move through lidded eyes, his arms crossed over his chest and his hip cocked into the front end of your vehicle. And as soon as you were back, he had you turn around and bend over the car, your panties pulled down and pooled around your ankles, your dress lifted over your ass. 

He didn’t waste any time before sheathing himself completely into you. He sighed when he bottomed out, a deep groan melding well with your whimper. The moment he took to himself, one where he breathlessly laughed and complimented your grip on his cock, he let you adjust. 

You didn’t need long. 

Sounds of him fucking you quickly filled the garage. The clapping of your skin meeting, the shlick! of your cunt screaming as it got pounded, your breaths and moans. 

It feels so impersonal like this, getting fucked from the back on top of your car with the faint smell of chemicals in the air. But you like it like this. 

You like it when Jake wonders aloud if any of the neighbors can hear you. You like it when he suggests making "house calls" more often, especially if "coming all this way to fix your car" ends up with you spreading your pretty pussy for him. 

He brings his hand down and slaps your ass before lifting the fabric of your dress, using his free hand to pull one of your ass cheeks apart. 

"Jesus, look at that," he marvels, “Really working for it, aren't ya, sweetheart? Making it worth my while." He stops moving his hips, letting you do all of the work. You press your hands into the metal beneath you, gaining more leverage to fuck yourself back onto him. 

"I'll tell you what, this 's better than money, that's for sure.”

You agree, but you're so focused on fucking Jake that you refuse to use any attention for verbally responses, hoping a nod will suffice. 

It's fine, Jake talks enough for the both of you. 

“You’re leaking all around me. Making a mess of my jeans. What, you’re leaving your mark on me? Marking your spot?” His hand lays against your back, sliding up until he grips your neck from the back. “Don’t worry, I’ll reserve this for you. Best pussy I’ve ever had, I’ll tell you that for free. Turn around for me, sweetheart, I wanna see that pretty face.” 

You don’t hesitate to follow his orders, ending up with your back pressed into the car and your legs wrapped around Jake's waist. 

If y'all weren’t both nearing the edge, the position would be impractical, but it barely takes anything before you’re squeezing around Jake. 

He watches it happen, green eyes trained completely on watching your face morph into a depiction of pleasure as your back arches and you reach for him. He gives you whatever you can reach, letting you fist the fabric of his tee as your ankles hook behind his back. 

Having to shallow fuck you doesn’t deter Jake at all. He simply jackrabbits into you, pushing you through your orgasm while chasing his own. When it happens, he lets your insistent hand tug on his hair. His head rests against your tits spilling out over the neckline of your dress, his cock twitching inside of you as his hips weakly drive into yours with the final few thrusts. 

There's a routine at the end. Jake doesn’t speak until you do. He spends the silence cleaning you up, taking his shirt off and using the cleanest part of it to wipe away the cum from between your thighs. He realigns your dress after pulling your panties up, hands rubbing your arms as he kisses your forehead. 

“Is my car actually fixed?” you eventually ask him. 

Jake hums, pulling you into a hug and resting his chin on your forehead. “Sure is. Don’t let it get that bad again.” 

[bradshawsweetheart]

Good Vibrations | Jake Seresin x Reader |

SUMMARY: Making a bet with Jake Seresin never involved low stakes. This time, after losing to your boyfriend, his "winnings" included you testing out a new sex toy he picked up — not only in public, but in a last minute decision of in the presence of both strangers and your friends. Surely you could be discreet. This would be a cakewalk... Right? WORD COUNT: ~3.08K WARNINGS: THIS BLOG IS 18+ SO JUST ASSUME ANYTHING GOES. MINORS DNI. Swearing, alcohol mention (no one is drunk but worth mentioning), smut, softdom Jake, voyeurism, exhibitionism, edging, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise kink, dumbification (affectionate), Jake being a smug bastard. A/N: I wrote this for this request I received a while back! I hope you enjoy!

“A bet is a bet, darlin’. I don’t make the rules.” Jake smirked. You tried your best to convince him to save his little game for another time, but he wasn’t budging. At all.

“Yeah, a bet we made before agreeing to go to the bowling alley with Bob and Phoenix. And actually, yes, you did make the rules.” You whined as you gripped his hand tighter, forcing a smile on your face as the two of you approached the small table that the pilot and WSO were waiting at.

After a few rounds passed, Bob and Natasha were absolutely destroying you in duos. 

“I thought you were good at this game, Bagman?” Natasha quipped tauntingly after Bob rolled yet another perfect strike. He now had a turkey when neither of you had gotten anything better than a spare during the entire game. You were getting absolutely creamed; it was embarrassing. Yet somehow, contrary to any kind of normalcy, neither of you seemed to care. “You talk a lot of game for someone who’s losing by an embarrassing amount already.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re lucky my mind is elsewhere tonight or else you’d both be going home cryin’ to mama.” Jake chuckled before he dug a couple of shiny quarters from his pocket and bounced over to the jukebox. How he managed to be so cocky while actively losing was beyond you – any other time, he would be sore about it for two weeks minimum. Natasha raised a brow at you, amused, and you returned a playful eyeroll.

“I’ve never known you to focus on anything other than winning, so I’m calling bullshit.” Bob scoffed before offering a lopsided smile to meet your sheepish gaze. 

You watched Jake curiously as he seemed to be intently searching for a specific song, and not long after, The Beach Boys’s Good Vibrations started to bump throughout the half-empty, neon-lit bowling alley. Your face fell when he swaggered back to the table with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. You thought that maybe he had forgotten about your arrangement until you felt the cool metal of the tiny remote being lightly dragged up your bare thigh under the table when he sat back down. You shuddered before sending him a warning glare. Natasha expertly sent her ball down the lane, and as soon as it collided with the pins, a powerful vibration from inside your underwear sent electricity through your core. You lurched forward and a guttural groan flew from your mouth before you could stop it. Bob whipped his head around to face you, concern evident on his face.

I’m pickin’ up good vibrations

She’s giving me excitations

“Are you alright?” Bob asked, reaching a comforting hand toward you. 

Jake quickly wrapped an arm around you and pulled you, along with your stool, closer to his side. His touch was the only one you would know when you were turned on, and he was not about to let another man put his hands on you while you were already teetering on the edge of euphoria. You began to scramble for a response as Jake upped the strength of the vibrations by one level.

“Y-Yeah, I’m okay. Just – just bummed for you that it wasn’t a strike. Phoenix, your form was per… perfect.” You stammered; your knuckles turned white as you tightened your grip on the edge of your chair. Jake shoved a fistful of nachos in his mouth to hide his smirk, which earned a suspicious look from Bob.

“Ugh, I know. I got the next one, though.” Natasha chirped at your compliment with a confident wink before turning on her heel to retrieve the ball to roll for a spare. 

Jake brought his hand to rest on your bare thigh and began rubbing circles on your skin with his calloused thumb. The combination of the vibrations and just this simple contact from his hand was giving you goosebumps. You adjusted your position on the uncomfortably hard plastic of your chair.

“You okay, sugar?” Jake asked innocently. You shot daggers at him. The corner of his lips quirked upward.

When I look in her eyes

She goes with me to a blossom world

“Just peachy.” You replied curtly, exhaling slowly through your nose. 

His pinky slowly trailed further up your thigh until it was brushing along the edge of your skirt, his middle and ring fingers teasingly pushing up and down between the plush of your thighs. You pressed your legs tighter together to halt his cruel teasing as he smugly watched your eyebrows furrow. You tried to keep your breathing even as you watched Bob and Natasha, who were thankfully too lost in their climb to victory to notice what a menace Jake was being.

I don’t know where but she sends me there

(Oh, my-my, what a sensation)

“You’re up,” Bob nodded to Jake. Jake was quick to pull away from you as he popped up and strode over to take position. He kept one hand in his pocket as he eyed the lane and readjusted his aim a couple of times. “One-handed in a way that you couldn’t care less. What, d’you give up already?” Bob teased. Despite him being on the opposite team, you loved when Bob would start to smack-talk after a few beers. He really came out of his shell whenever it was time for a little friendly competition.

“This is how a real pro operates, kiddo. Take notes.” Jake responded without breaking his focused gaze on the pins.

“Yeah, let’s see how far that gets you.” 

And with that, Jake took his shot and rolled a perfect strike; and in doing so, he upped the vibration strength in his pocket the moment the ball collided with the pins yet again. A higher pitched moan left you and you did your absolute best to disguise it as a celebratory cheer. You were relieved when it seemed to pay off. Bob’s jaw was slack as he marveled at Jake’s shot.

“That’s how the adults play, Baby On Board,” Jake chided as he made his way back to his seat next to you. Bob rolled his shoulders back with a grimace as he muttered to himself. 

Gotta keep those lovin' good vibrations a-happenin' with her

“You’re up, chickadee.” He grinned at you, subtly adjusting his jeans to conceal his growing erection as he watched your face. Your eyelids were struggling to remain open as the sensations took hold over you. The mischievous glint in his eye was as prominent as it ever could be. You narrowed your eyes at him as you stood, a little unsteady on your feet as the vibrations against your increasingly dripping core remained constant. You pick up your ball from the rack and move to take position. Your senses were overwhelmed as the consequence of Jake’s winnings kept at your clit; everything was suddenly too loud, the entire joint smelled overwhelmingly like beer and fried food, and now you were squinting against the pink and blue of the neon that was reflecting off the recently waxed wood. You took a deep breath and aimed your ball before sending it flying down the lane. You thought that now that you were front and center, with everyone’s eyes on you, you would be safe from Jake’s antics. You thought wrong.

(Ahhhhh!)

Your ball sped toward the pins and collided, successfully knocking them all down and earning yourself a perfect strike – your first of the night. 

Good, good, good, good vibrations

The biggest grin found its place on your face and just as you jumped up to celebrate, you fell to your knees with a high pitched whine as Jake upped the intensity by several levels. Bob flew out of his chair to kneel beside you, placing his hand on your arm as you trembled, your head bowed to the floor. Jake’s skin burned as he watched Bob’s hand on your skin, but he let it slide. This was his doing, after all. Jake stood from his chair and was behind you immediately as he turned the toy off with the remote in his pocket. You bit your lip to conceal your pathetic whimper at the sudden loss of stimulation.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Natasha questioned in a rush as she dropped her knees to the floor beside you.

Good, good, good, good vibrations

“I’m okay,” you reassured them, exhaling slowly and keeping your voice steady. You couldn’t do this much longer. The desperation for relief was overwhelming you. “It’s just really hot in here. I think I just need to splash some water on my face.” Natasha glanced down at her jacket – she was freezing, even with the alcohol in her system – but she nodded nonetheless.

“Do you want me to go with you?” She offered, standing slowly and steadying you against her elbow as she pulled you up with her. She searched your face with genuine concern. It kind of made you want to elbow Jake in the ribs for making your friends think there was something seriously wrong with your health at the moment. You flicked your eyes back over your shoulder to meet Jake’s — you could tell he was struggling to keep a straight face at this point. His lips quirked as he watched you, bringing a firm hand to rest at the small of your back and teasingly rubbing underneath your shirt with his thumb. Your breath hitched. You shook your head rapidly at Natasha’s offer and waved her off, offering an appreciative smile. Jake’s features were only half-apologetic as he pulled you against him and leaned down to give a chaste kiss to your forehead. You playfully sighed in annoyance at him. You agreed to his terms when you made the bet. You just didn’t think he would be so remorseless in his use of the new toy in public. 

Bob shifted anxiously on his feet as he observed you, subtly bopping his head to You Dropped A Bomb On Me by The Gap Band that was now playing on the jukebox. You bopped your head in time with him with a small smile and watched him visibly relax.

“It’s just hot in here. I’ll be much better when I come back.” You reassured them again as the trio watched cautiously. Jake’s eyebrow quirked as you passed him. He knew what your plan entailed and he wasn’t too thrilled about it.

You hurried to the bathroom, quickly locking yourself into one of the stalls and leaned back against the cool metal of the door. You bit your lip to keep yourself quiet as you dipped your hand into your underwear, desperate for relief and suppressing a moan when your fingers ghosted over your sensitive clit. You didn’t even bother to check if the bathroom was empty – frankly, you were too on edge to care. After a few minutes, Jake excused himself to go check on you. He looked both ways before practically flinging himself into the women’s restroom and closing the door behind him hastily.

“What’s got you so worked up, baby?” Jake drawled after making sure it was just the two of you in the room. You whimpered at him quietly. He took a moment — finally alone — to adjust his pants more openly and palm over his hardening cock. He took notice of your feet under the stall door and imagined the way you were positioned. He pictured your brows knit, bottom lip between your teeth as you ran your fingers through your folds and desperately grinding down onto your hand for relief. He was painfully hard just at the thought of it. Jake locked the bathroom door behind him — whoever might have needed to come in here could wait. 

At the click of the lock, you were out of the stall and on him in a flash, desperately pulling him against you and attaching your lips to his. He grinned into the kiss as your lips moved feverishly together. He secured one hand against the back of your neck and his other on your hip as he walked you backward until your ass was hitting the counter. You sighed into his mouth, running your hands down the front of his torso and pushing your hands under his shirt. His skin was hot to the touch and you wanted nothing more than for it to be against yours. You gently raked your nails down his abdomen and pulled his hips closer to yours by his belt loops. He hummed. “You’re breaking the rules.”

“Don’t care,” You took his bottom lip between your teeth and tugged gently, whimpering when he lifted you enough to position you on the very edge of the sink. “Need you.”

“Need me, huh?” Jake teased, leaving your swollen, kiss-bitten lips and attaching his own to that sweet spot under your ear. He pushed your legs further apart with his knee before slotting his thigh between yours. “You wanna be a good girl and hike up your skirt for me?”

You whined pathetically at his words as you pulled at your skirt and ground your heat onto his thick, denim-clad thigh. He continued to leave a trail of hot, opened-mouth kisses down your neck and chest before yanking your top down to attach his lips to your already-peaked nipple. He took his hand from the back of your neck to knead at your other breast, pinching your nipple between his index and middle fingers. You sucked in a sharp breath and threw your head back with a moan, grinding down onto him a bit harder. He grinned against your skin as he quickly flicked over your nipple with his tongue before switching to the other.

“I got you, pretty girl,” Jake cooed, snaking the hand that was firmly secured against your hip to the apex of your thighs. He moaned lowly at the feeling of your wetness-soaked underwear, slowly rubbing small circles over the fabric. It wasn’t enough. You whimpered, grinding into his hand and digging your nails into his biceps. “So wet for me. You been thinking about me touching you all night with that vibrator against your cunt?” You could do nothing but nod weakly, your head resting back against the bathroom mirror. “Use your words, darlin’.”

“Yes sir,” You mewled. 

“Good girl,” Jake grunted, flicking your nipple with his tongue once more before releasing it with a pop! He dropped to his knees and pulled your panties to the side, wasting no time in spreading you with his fingers and licking a thick stripe upward before plunging his tongue into your weeping hole. “Weren’t exactly trying to hide how good I was making you feel, were you, baby?”

“Oh, my fucking –” You jolted. Jake attached his lips to your clit, alternating between licking and sucking as he brought his middle finger to push into you slowly, gliding in and out of you with ease. Your fingers wound into his blond tresses and you eagerly tugged at his scalp, earning a pleased, guttural groan from somewhere deep in Jake’s sternum. You were already so close after being practically edged all night long.

He pulled your thighs over his shoulders before pushing his ring finger into you now, curling his digits upward against that spongy spot in your walls and pumping them into you at a steady pace. You let out a long, high pitched whine as he hit the perfect spot over and over and over and over. He moaned and relished in the feeling of your heat clenching snugly around his digits. Your brain turned into mush – you heard his voice but couldn’t make out what he was saying. “I – I’m – Jake, I can’t –”

“You sound so pretty when you moan for me, baby,” He smirked against your skin as he watched your fucked-out expression. Your eyes screwed shut with your eyebrows sloped and your mouth agape – it always drove him crazy. “What, can’t take any more? Forgot how to use your words now?” You could do nothing but cry out and nod rapidly against the mirror. “My poor baby. Taking my mouth and fingers like such a good girl.” He hummed against your clit and you choked out a sob, tears streaking your cheeks now and desperately grasping his hair. You were so, so close, teetering on the edge and waiting for him to push you over like he always does… Then, suddenly, he withdrew from you completely. Your eyes flew open, wild, and searched his smug face while he lazily kissed your inner thighs.

“What are you –”

“You broke the rules.” He stated simply, pulling your skirt back down over your thighs and smoothing it over with his calloused fingertips.

“What?” You exhaled incredulously, blinking at him, chest heaving. He rose to his feet and kissed your collarbones as he readjusted your shirt over your breasts before wiping his chin.

“You broke the rules,” Jake repeated. His eyes were dark with want yet held an incredibly amused glint. “No touching yourself.” Your jaw fell slack as you searched his features for the hint of a joke – there was none.

“Jake –” You began to protest – to plead.

“Come on, baby,” He grinned, pulling you down from the counter and spinning your hips to stand in front of him to face the mirror. You could still do nothing but blink dumbly at his reflection. He brought his hot lips down to where neck meets shoulder as he ground his hard cock against your ass. You whimpered, reaching for him behind you. He stepped out of reach and grabbed your hand instead, interlocking your fingers. He adjusted himself by tucking his solid length into the waistband of his jeans. “We have a game to get back to.”

You couldn’t believe this was happening.

“You’re finished when we get back to your place.” You hissed at Jake lowly through gritted teeth as he unlocked the door and pulled you back into the bowling alley with him. He ignored the glances you two were getting from a few lingering patrons as he strode back toward Bob and Natasha. The music was loud, but maybe not loud enough to conceal what was happening behind the locked door from anyone within ten feet of it.

“Not if I finish you first,” He challenged with a grin. He fished the remote from his pocket and dangled it in front of your face. “If you can even make it that long.”

[cherrycola27]

The Tipping Point

Summary: When Jake learns that no one has ever satisfied you, he makes it his mission to change that. Inspired by my favorite Seresin Slut @thedroneranger and my favorite Rooster fic I've written Just The Tip

Warnings: Language, Smut, 18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Hangman x Reader

...........................................

Your eyes are as wide as the dinner plates the two of you were eating off of. You couldn't believe what your boyfriend had just suggested.

"You can't be serious." You said, looking at him in disbelief. "Jake, please tell me you're kidding."

"I'm as serious as a heart attack, darlin." Jake smiled back at you. "Jake, I—" He cut you off before you could finish.

"You told me that when we first started dating, you wanted to take things slow. And I'm totally okay with that. But you've also told me that no one has ever been able to get you off. I want to change that." He stated.

"I understand that, Jake, but I—" you protested.

"But nothing, honey. I'm a visual learner. Show me what you like. I want to take care of you. I want to show you that I'm better than the guys you dated before me. Prove that I am the best of the best." He smirked.

It really shouldn't come as a surprise to you. The fact that Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, Naval aviator extraordinaire, would want to prove to you that he is the best. The two of you had been together for just over five months, and in that time, he'd already prove himself to be the best boyfriend you'd ever had.

When you first started dating, you told him you wanted to take things slow. After a while, you told him the real reason was because no boyfriend or hook up in the past had ever made you cum. He had been trying to rectify that situation for a while now.

Though, him asking you to touch yourself so he could watch was not something you expected. You met his eyes. At first, you thought he was kidding. But with just one look, you knew he was serious.

You sighed. "Okay" you said in a voice just above a whisper.

"Yeah?" He asked. "Yeah." You confirmed.

A huge smile broke out across his face. Before you could change your mind, Jake was scooping you out of your chair and hauling you to your bedroom.

He gently deposited your feet on the floor. "Where do you want me to sit? You're in charge here." Jake said, kissing your head.

"Um, you can pull my desk chair to the foot of the bed. You said shyly. Jake quickly grabbed it and positioned it. With your back turned to him, you stripped off your shirt and pants. In a moment of confidence, you turned to face him. You were wearing a baby blue set. You could see he pupils go wide at the site of you.

Without saying a word, you reached behind your back and unhooked your bra. You slipped it off your shoulders and tossed it to the ground.

Silently, you let your panties slide down your legs. They were already damp, just from the intensity of how he was watching you.

Feeling cocky, you balled them up and tossed them to him. He caught them and immediately inhaled your scent.

"All of this just for me?" He asked. You giggled.

"Do you mind if I use my vibrator?" You asked him.

"Whatever you want, sweetheart. This is about you." He said. There wasn't a hint of jealousy in his voice. You'd been with a few gues who would have scoffed at the idea, but not Jake. He wanted to learn what made you tick. He was invested in you.

You opened your nightstand and pulled out your favorite purple bullet. You grabbed a pillow and laid down on the bed. Once you were comfortable, you put the pillow under your hips and spread your legs.

"Such a pretty pussy." Jake mumbled out. You raised your head just enough to look at him. His eyes were trained on your core.

You grabbed your vibrator and turned it to your favorite setting.

You let it slide through your slick and gathered it up before setting it directly on your clit.

You circled the toy around your aching bundle of nerves and sighed. Your left hand came up to squeezed your breasts, bringing your nipples to hard, pebbled peaks.

"Oh, Jake," you sighed. His names fell easily from your lips as you dipped your toy into your wet cunt before dragging it back to your clit.

"Fuck," you heard Jake grunt out. You looked up to see his shirt had been stripped off and that his pants and boxers were pushed down to his ankles and he was stroking his cock.

"Learning anything?" You asked him.

"Lots, keep going, baby. I want to see you cum for me." He moaned out.

Emboldened by his words, you turned the vibrator up a setting. The strong vibrations made your body jolt.

You kept circling the toy on your clit, applying pressure. You could feel your release approaching. Your toes curled, and you felt yourself clenching around nothing.

Your head thrashed wildly, and you couldn't contain your cries of pleasure.

"Oh fuck Jakey. Feels so good. Mmm, yes, Jake, yes!" You cried out.

"Keep going, baby girl. You have no idea how hot this is. My cock is so fucking hard from watching you. Better than any fucking porn." He moans out. You can hear him panting. It makes you even wetter knowing that he is enjoying this just as much as you are.

"I'm s'close Jake. I'm gonna cum." You cry. You can feel the tightness in your belly.

"Cum for me baby. I wanna see you cum for me. Please." Jake almost begs.

You flick your wrist and circle your bud a few more times before you are cumming hard.

"JAKE!" You cry his name as you work yourself through your high.

Once you've come down. You turn the toy off and set it to the side. You sit up enough to look at him.

Jake is panting, and you see the white ropes of cum covering his abdomen.

"Christ baby, you don't know how hot that was." He tells you.

You lay back on the pillows and sigh. You're trying to think of a smart ass reply, but your brain isn't working.

"Has anyone ever gone down on you?" Jake asks.

"No." You breathe out, still staring at the ceiling.

"Can I?' He asked. "Now?" You lean up and see that he's moved from the chair and is kneeling at the foot of the bed.

"There's no better time than the present." He states.

"You're sure?" You ask him. This is definitely not how you thought this evening would go.

He nods his head furiously.

"Well, why not?" You say before flopping back.

You'd no sooner gotten settled before Jake was pulling you to the edge of the bed. He made sure the pillow was still under your hips before he threw both of your legs over his shoulders.

"Tell me what you like and what you don't like, okay?" He asks.

"Yes, sir." You mock. But anything else dies on your lips as he broad, flat tongue slides across your slit.

Your hips jump at the pleasant but unfamiliar sensation. You hear him chuckle as his forearm comes to lay across your pelvis to keep you in place. He does it a few more times before tracing your clit with the just the tip of his tongue.

"Mmm.. that feels good." You sigh. He keeps doing it, speeding up and applying more pressure each time he does it.

It feels good, but you need more. You thread your fingers through his hair and push his face towards your core.

Taking the hint, Jake wraps his lips around the bundle and sucks it—hard.

"Shit! That feels so good, baby." You cry out. Jake hums against you and does it again.

He let's go of it would a soft pop before dipping his tongue into your greedy, wet hole.

He fucks it into you repeatedly. Your cries of pleasure, spurring him on. He laps at your core, tasting your sweet nectar. His nose bumps against your clit with every lick.

"Jake, I—I need—" you pant.

"What do you need, baby. Use your words. Tell Daddy what you need princess.

"Your fingers. Please, Daddy... need them to fill me up." You cry out.

He sinks his middle and ring fingers into you. You're so wet for him, the glide in easily. You're vaugly aware of the cool metal of his Naval Academy ring against your heat.

He curls them into you. Easily finding the textured spot that is guaranteed to have you cumming in minutes.

"Oh, Daddy, fuck, Jake, just like that!" You moan out.

Your hand grips his hair tighter. Your thighs close in on his head, trapping him there. The heel of your foot digs into his back. He'll probably have a bruise there in the morning, but neither of you seem to care.

Everything feels so fucking good. This is what you had been missing out on. Watching you get off had Jake hard as a rock again. He ground his hip into your mattress to relieve some pressure.

"You look so pretty like this baby." Jake praises you.

You look down and meet his eyes. The green of them is just a thin halo around his lust blown pupils. Never breaking eye contact, he sucks your clit back into his mouth and speeds up the motions of his fingers, curling them and scissoring your walls.

"Just like that! Oh, just like that! Please don't stop!" You beg him.

"Don't plan on it, sweets. Daddy isn't going to stop until you cum all over his face. Come on baby, give it to me. Make a mess all over my face!" He encouraged you.

You can feel your high building deep inside you. It's different, though. It's more intense than any orgasm that you've ever given yourself.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck." You chant.

"Jake, I'm gonna, shit daddy, gonna—" You try to warn him, but it's all too much, and before you can say anything else, you're cumming hard against his face. It's harder than you ever have cum in your life.

He works you through it, lapping and curling his fingers. He doesn't stop until you're cumming again. Screaming his name so loud, you know your neighbors can hear you.

He continues to drink up every last drop of your release. Your thighs are shaking as you push his head away. He unwrap himself and leans back on his haunches.

His spend coats his boxers because getting you off twice, with just his mouth and his fingers, God it was hot. But making you squirt for him? He feels like God himself because of that.

He crawls up beside you in the bed. Your eyes are glassy and your whole body is flushed.

"That was amazing." You gasp. You turn and look at him. He has a genuine smile on his face.

"So I'm definitely the best then?" He asks with a grin.

"Definitely. The others can't compete where they don't compare." You affirm.

He leans down to kiss you.

"We need to get cleaned up and change the sheets. We made a mess." He tells you.

"This goes without saying, but you're definitely the first person to make me squirt too." You tell him as you sit up.

"And I plan to be the last." He affirms as the two of you head to the shower.

"Is that so?" You cock an eyebrow and look at him.

"Absolutely."

Hope yall enjoyed this! As always, likes are great, but comments and reblogs are golden

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[sunlightmurdock]

Operation Apollo | 2.8 | Jake Seresin x Reader (18+)

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Synopsis: After a threat is made against her life, the President’s grown up daughter gets her security tripled. Ex-Navy and current Secret Service, Jake Seresin is devoted to being the best at everything he does. He isn’t going to let a bratty little girl cost him this job.

Warning: age gap, power imbalance, enemies to lovers, danger and angst, manipulation, sucky parents, grief and manipulation, lying, distressing themes throughout but especially towards the end of the chapter. Graphic violence, dangerous situations, revenge, wc: 3.5k

For as long as you can remember, you had known that your father was going to be president. It was always discussed as a given. It was the coup de grace; he had been working towards it much longer than you had even been alive.

Those fourteen hour work days, and sleepless nights. The hard decisions and the time away from his family. All along, Matthew had sworn that it would be worth it. It would, one day, be enough.

Then, the first set of polls came in after those primary debates the summer before his first election run and with it, intel that Matthew plunged a sixth of his savings in to. Politics and bribery go hand in hand across most of the world; this wasn’t even the first step off of the beaten path. 

The intel was clear as day; It wasn’t enough. It wouldn’t be enough. All of that time, and work, and desperation that he poured into his career, it wasn’t going to be enough to win him the presidency. The guarantee was next to nil.

But there was still time.

He remembers one evening, in particular, sitting with his advisors in his home office, and just sobbing. Every birthday he had missed, every milestone — it was all going to be for nothing. 

“Look, Matt,” Arnie had said, stubbing his thin rolled cigarette out into a crystal ashtray and sitting back in the leather arm chair, sinking into it like the lazy waste of space that he was. He was a good friend of the family back then. “There’s still time. We’ve got options, buddy. Plenty of ‘em.” 

Matthew had rolled his neck back slowly — he still remembers the stress-induced stiffness those days had caused him —  and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah, Arnie? — And what options are those?” It was a biting remark, untrusting and downright hateful by that point. Arnie had promised many things already, and rarely had delivered. On the times that Matthew thinks back to his twenty year friendship with Arnold Paulson, he finds himself glad that that asshole now resides six feet under.

The older guy had just shrugged, letting that snide little smile creep across his face. “I know a guy. I think he might be able to, uh… help you out. For a fee, if you get where I’m coming from.”

Ellis Armstrong. After three days, and more phone calls than you care to remember, you have a name. He’s a business-man, and a rather successful one at that. Works in corporate development — he’s not hidden from the public eye like you would expect a guy like this to be.

No, he’s got thirteen offices spanning three continents and a portfolio that would put the Forbes list to shame. Once upon a time, he had been a friend of the family. It’s easy to piece together the headshot of him sitting at the wide, mahogany desk in his new office and the fuzzy memories of the tall man in your father’s office late at night.

You remember him distinctly. The sound your bare feet had made, tiptoeing down that long, curving staircase in the old house. Far past your bedtime, your princess nightgown grazing your ankles. The halls dark, illuminated by lights pouring out from under doors. The house was never really empty back then. Pushing open the heavy pocket doors that separated your father’s office from the parlour. 

The gaunt, tall blond man sitting in the armchair. His sunken eyes that had seemed so dark in the dimly lit room. His thin lips and hollow cheeks. The long, straight nose and the deep lines between his brows. Skeletal and still, he had looked like a monster. Something that belongs in the dark, lurking in wait. 

“What are you doing up, princess?” Matthew had scooped you off of your feet and suddenly you were looking at him instead, in all of the warmth and glory and familiarity of a man adored by his little girl. 

“I couldn’t sleep.” You remember, but it’s hazy now. You don’t remember the softer, higher pitch of your voice or really what had made the man in the chair quite so scary looking, or what had driven you out of the safety of your bed that night. 

There’s a fondness to his smile in those hazy memories, a softness to his touch that feels so far away now. The stars and unicorns on your bedsheets, and the stuffie he had tucked under your chin. The safety of your childhood bedroom, with the warm pink glow of your nightlight and the embrace of your stuffed animal. How far away the fear of that man in the chair had felt once your father had kissed the top of your head and closed your door.

It doesn’t just feel far away, it is far away — everything about it. Your parents no longer own that house, you’ve long outgrown that bed and that stuffed animal ended up in the donate pile after one of your big moves. You’re no longer hiding from the scary man sitting in the armchair; you’re looking for him.

“I don’t understand,” You do, but showing your cards has never been part of your strategy. The woman opposite you forces her creasing mouth into a deeper frown as she pulls her coffee cup protectively closer. “Tell me, exactly, what you remember about your time working for my father.”

If Allen knew where you were, he would skin you alive. If Manny knew, he would be right here with you. If Jake knew, you wouldn’t be here at all. He would have locked you in a hallway closet before he let you set something like this up. 

The woman sitting opposite you is a timid little redhead with big brown eyes and a disposition that brings new clarity to the term ‘afraid of her own shadow’. She’s jumpy, and looking over her shoulder constantly. You, are considerably cooler for a person more alone than they have been in more than a decade.

Her name is Ida — she was your father’s personal assistant the year before his first election, and it cost you to even get her to this cafe in Pasadena. You remember the long skirts and the narrow glasses, but you don’t remember Ida being quite so… afraid.

“He wasn’t— he isn’t a bad man, darling. That’s what you have to understand, it’s just that—“

“Ida, slow down.” You bite, growing tired of this. You don’t have long before someone notices that you’re gone, if they haven’t already. The sky outside is grey, and sullen, the cafe is almost empty for now but the lunch rush is approaching. “This isn’t about whether he’s a good guy or not. Tell me where Ellis Armstrong comes into this.”

Sitting opposite you, the mouse-like woman’s eyes turn wide like saucers as she shrinks down further into her seat, wringing her hands into the checked fabric of her skirt.

“He wasn’t going to win the election by himself. There was intel out there that… painted him in a bad light.”

“Details, Ida.” You click the pen and stare across at her impatiently. She swallows softly and checks around her again.

“Your father had an affair. It was all going to come out — it would have tanked any kind of campaign he could have put together, and you remember what times were like then… the kind of money it would have taken to make that go away…” The coffee mug in front of her scalds her trembling hands as she finally lifts her chin enough for you to look her in the eye. Raindrops start to beat into the sidewalk outside. A silence sets across the coffee shop as the soft indie playlist stops between tracks.

If you were still little, padding barefoot along the hall in your princess nightdress, this would have hurt so badly. The warm smile and his gentle disposition — and he was already betraying you, even then. You’re not little now. It doesn’t hurt like it would have then. You scrawl messily across the page.

“What was her name, who did she work for?”

Ida pauses briefly, blinking. Truthfully, she hadn’t been expecting this calculated coldness from you. She’s seen the videos of the frightened girl clinging to her bodyguard. She wonders how far he might be from you today.

“Suzy Blake. She was a political analyst for the New York Times back then.” Ida tells you, turning her head and checking through the rain-dotted front windows of the shop. You scribe the information and look back up to her, unsatisfied.

“All I’ve got on this is your word?” You prompt her.

“And her daughter — Matt never took a paternity test, but Suzy was always so sure.” This, Ida can see it worm its way under your skin, writhing under those years of collected conditioning. She blinks across at you and taps her nails against the coffee cup, glancing down at the milky liquid.

You have never heard of Suzy; couldn’t even begin to picture what she looks like. Her daughter would be nine, at least, maybe older. She could look like you, maybe. You press your lips together and grind the tip of the pen into the lined page, threatening to leave indentations of your anger through the rest of the book at once.

“So, Ellis paid for her to disappear?” You confirm, looking back up at Ida with an iciness that gives her a glimpse of her former boss. 

“Ellis paid for a lot of things.” Ida answers you suddenly faster than she has in the entire hour that you’ve been sitting here. She doesn’t look at you as she says it, lifting the mug from the saucer and taking a long drink of her latte. The liquid shivers in the cup, disturbed by her trembling fingers.

“Ida.” You sigh, growing frustrated. She turns her head and looks towards the window again, craning her neck slightly. Frightened of her own shadow, you condemn her cowardice. “Details.”

Her eyes follow two raindrops as the grey droplets race along the windowpane. “He bought the presidency for your father.”

Your father is a proud man. He has told you the story plenty of times, of how your grandfather had tried to give your parents the down payment for a house, how your father chose to spend his first year of marriage in a studio apartment rather than taking it. Back then, you wouldn’t have believed he could do such a thing.

Now, you aren’t sure where to draw the line on where your beliefs lie. 

“Extra campaign funding, promotions, big names,” Ida’s cup jingles as she sets it rockily back down onto the saucer. She turns her head back to the table, but avoids your gaze nonetheless. “Votes. Ellis made it all happen. He saved your father’s career.”

Your gaze flicks up from the scrawled information on the page, and lands on her hands. She picks restlessly at her cuticles, her attention shifting to every corner of the room but you. Your brows draw together seriously, taking a moment to check the empty space around you before you focus on her. 

“And what did my father do to him?”

Such a clever little girl — that’s what Ida remembers most of you. So inquisitive, and engaged. So interested. It’s such a shame that no one had time for you, you really deserved someone who would have answered those wonderful questions you came up with.

She swallows softly, unsure of exactly how much information is encompassed by the umbrella of ‘everything’. In her industry, you never let go of all of your secrets at once. That’s just bad business.

“He ran for re-election,” Ida says calmly, her voice more confident sounding, even in its soft tone. She exhales slowly. “And, after the successes in his first term, it became clear that he could win the presidency again. Without Mr. Armstrong.”

Across the table, you set the pen down on the edge of the notebook and check the time on your watch. You should be getting back before Allen has time to deploy a whole search party. 

“Again, Ida… I’ve just got your word on this.” You remind her. A jaded assistant from nine years ago isn’t exactly the concrete evidence that you broke out of your house for. The fear in her eyes is all the proof you need, but that won’t stand up in court.

You’ve been thinking about that a lot recently, as your research has deepened into your father’s past. You came across a picture yesterday, where he was your age, and smiling in the foreground of a Greenpeace conference. It struck you to consider if that young man would hate the man he was going to become as much as you have grown too — if maybe the two of you would have gotten along once, if things were different.

If you would be able to stand up in court and send the smiling young man, with the purest of intentions, to prison. 

“You’re right,” She starts to shake her head and her chair scrapes across the floor. The loudest sound that has come from her all day. She twists in her seat and grabs her jacket and her bag from the back of her chair. “You’re right, I can’t prove this. This was a bad idea…”

Your eyes go wide as she scrambles for her things. “No, Ida, wait—“

She pauses, briefly, to look you in the eye. “I’m sorry.” She turns swiftly, and heads for the door, dinging the bell above it and slipping out into the sheets of grey rain outside the door. You slam your notebook shut and fumble to slip it into your back, all thumbs and no fingers, stuck in the struggle as she disappears from the view of the front window. 

“Shit…” You mutter, slinging the bag onto your shoulder, forgetting your coat completely as you head after her. She’s much faster than she is loud. Rain chills your cheeks and dampens your hair before the bell above the door is even done ringing. Your shoes slap against the pavement, splashing fresh rainwater onto your jeans. You round the corner and squint through the grey ahead of you in search of her.

Her plaid skirt dips behind a car up ahead as she crosses to the driver’s side.

“Ida! Wait!” You call out for her, securing a hand around your bag as you jog to keep up, rushing for the blue sedan as she ducks into it. It doesn’t take you long, her hands are shaking too much to get the keys into the ignition. You slow, but don’t make it to a complete stop, reaching out to knock hard against the passenger window, as something cold, sharp-edged and hard slams into your right eye socket.

Your elbow hits the ground first, then your knee, then your left temple, before your body collapses to the wet pavement all together. Thrown off balance and reeling, your years of conditioning haven’t ever prepared you for this. Your skull aches, throbbing like you’re being hit with that first impact over and over, before you even feel the fingers curling around your arms and hoisting you off of the ground.

The car door clicks open. Blood rushes to the right side of your face, swelling in circles to form the deep bruise that will be left behind. Slow, blinking, your eyes drag themselves open and blink as you realize that it wasn’t the door of the car that opened. A second impact comes, but this one isn’t stone — it’s all skin. You can feel the warmth of the hand, and the ridges of each knuckle, as it drives forwards into your face.

After that, you can only imagine how easy you make for them to get you in that trunk. It hurts too much to open your eyes. Maybe that’s a pathetic thing to think, as you start to think of what they’ll do to you next — what pain is yet to come. But, it’s dark anyway, and in here, at least you’re alone. Your phone is in the bag. Maybe that’s still on th pavement, or maybe it’s in the car. But it isn’t with you. 

Each turn sends you forwards or back, your body rolling over the thinly carpeted trunk, slamming into the back of the seats or the metal of the hatch. You can feel your face swelling, the heat from it stings like a burn.

Jake’s going to be so angry with you, for doing this to yourself.

Maybe it’s just a short ride, or maybe you black out a little on the way, there’s no way of knowing for sure. But, when your eyes feel open, they’re trying to focus to the new bright light after ages of dark. When they’re closed, it doesn’t look much different.

It’s cold, and the echo of the voices around you tells you that the space you’re in is wide open and empty. A warehouse, most likely. The perfect spot for an execution. 

You’re held up by a hand on each of your arms, and your feet drag, scrambling for leverage against the ground as they tug you forwards. There’s some fight left in you after all. If it lasts long enough for someone to figure out where you are, that’s another story. You should have told Manny. Or left a note. Something.

The country is going to put your father on a pedestal when he’s grieving the loss of his beloved daughter.

Abruptly, you’re thrown down into a chair and your arms are torn backwards, making you cry out. Rope. Heavy, and fraying, rough against your wrists as you’re bound to the metal backing of a wooden chair. Fingers dig abruptly into either side of your cheeks, pressing the flesh of your mouth into your teeth until you’ve got no choice but to open up in complaint.

 The second that your lips part, something is forced between them. A dry rag. It’s tied tight at the back of your head, digging into your cheeks, muffling your sounds of struggle.

Muffled and restrained, there’s no way to defend yourself when another blow comes. It hits the centre of your face hard, another fist, this one harder than the first. Not pulling the punch in the slightest. Instantly, liquid streams from your nostrils and the taste of copper floods your tastebuds.

Your screw your eyes shut and force yourself to blink, you force your eyes to adjust. You refuse to surrender your last sense. Gradually, the room steadies and your vision focuses. It’s grey and industrial, illuminated by a singular lightbulb dangling from the ceiling. Empty, almost, bar a few storage crates, and a scary man sitting in front of you.

He smiles softly as your gaze settles on him and burns with rage.

“I know, I know,” Ellis offers with a small smile. He gives a small shake of his head. “This is none of your fault, darling. I know that. I’m sorry, really I am.”

You’re silent opposite him, your heartbeat thudding in your ears, sickened by the fact he has the satisfaction of watching you bleed. Turning your head slightly, you catch sight of the two men in your peripheral. Security, you guess, in case you do something.

This time, when you turn your head, you aren’t scared. The man in front of you is afraid of little, old you — so much so, that he needs backup.

“But Matt has a debt that I’m… not willing to forgive.” Ellis is wearing a green crewneck and black jeans, not like the suits in his pictures. This must be a casual kind of affair for him. His thin lips twitch, hinting at a smile as your gaze remains, unwavering, on him.

Saliva pools in your mouth, copper-tasting as your nose continues to stream with blood. It saturates the makeshift gag, spilling down your chin, your jaw aching and numb at the same time, pins and needles stinging through your hands as the restraints bruise your wrists. 

“You understand, don’t you? — Smart girl like you, you get why we had to go after you, I mean.” Ellis sits opposite you with his long legs stretched in front of him, his palms braced on the cargo box that he is perched on. Maybe it’s because he’s closer now than he ever was before, or maybe it’s just because you aren’t a little girl anymore — but you look into those dark, hollow eyes and there’s not a fibre of your being that needs your father to rescue you from him.

“Fuck you.” You spit. It’s easy enough to pretend that the damp rag secured around your mouth doesn’t cut into the corners of your mouth when you speak. You’re stronger than that.

Ellis presses his lips together and sits forwards, his gaunt face leering closer to you as he twitches towards a smile. He lifts one of those bony, skeletal hands and reaches for his phone, angling it towards your bruised face. “Don’t worry, darlin’ — we’ll get you back to your boyfriend soon enough. Just smile for the camera.”

tags: @alanadetigy @thedroneranger @momc95 @basicchelsea @perpetuelledaydreaming @cherrycola27 @eviesaurusrex @xoxabs88xox@desert-fern @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @khaylin27 @cowboybarbie @marchingicenotes7 @marantha @lgg5989 @herladyshipxx @chaoticweirdogeek @mak-32 @obiwankenobis-lap @diamond-3 @wolvesofthewinter@shawnsblue@itsmytimetoodream

[themorriganwitch]

Three are never too much

Summary: Bradley agrees to take part in Jakes Fantasy of being watched as he fucks his wife.

Words: 3k

Warnings: pure smut MDNI!! voyeurism, bit of daddy kink, spanking, oral (f! receiving), tiny bit of Hangster tension, masturbation (f! and m!), dirty talk,

A/N: comments and rebloggs are always deeply appreciated

_________________________________________________________

“Are you one hundred percent sure, that you want to do this?”, Jake asks you for the fifth time in the last 20 minutes. “I can still call him and cancel that whole thing, I never want to put you in a- “, you cut him off. 

“Baby we talked about this a million times. I am absolutely down, and I know that as soon as I feel uncomfortable, you would kick Bradley out before he could say “mustache”, you smile at your husband encouragingly. 

“Try to relax a little bit, remember you wanted to put on your best show for Rooster”. 

Jake scoffs.

“Honey we both know that I never have to put on a show”, he exaggerates the last word scathingly.

You roll your eyes amused but right before you could joke about how offended he was by a simple word, the doorbell rings.

“Take it easy, Jake. Just go on as we said, you open the door while I go upstairs and get ready. And then the three of us will meet in our bedroom and have some fun, okay?”, you ask reassuringly. 

He nods before he presses a short peck onto your lips and made his way to the door, while you went upstairs into the bathroom. 

You grab your new set of lingerie, a beautiful green one which left barely anything so someone’s imagination and put it on in front of your full-length mirror. After you admired yourself for a few seconds, you sit down on the edge of your bathtub, trying to control your breath a little. 

The whole thing has been Jakes idea: having someone over who watches the two of you while Jake rails you into the mattress. But after he brought it up you were fully into it and supported his wish. 

Knowing how easily possessive he could get over you, you let him decide who would be the lucky one to take part in his fantasy. You fully trusted him with this process and when he brought up Bradley Bradshaw, it barely took you more than 30 seconds to agree to his suggestion. 

Today the big day finally arrived and even though you could feel yourself getting a bit nervous, you were just as excited and turned on if not even more. 

As you could hear your husband and his best friend coming upstairs and into your bedroom, you took a last deep breath before you re-arrange your boobs shortly, so they looked even bigger and step outside the door, right where the two of them were waiting for you.

Just as you expected, you found Jake sitting on your shared King-size bed, while Bradley already took place in the brown leather armchair, you placed perfectly in front of your bed, which would give him the best view of your husband and you. 

“Hey Bradshaw”, you smile at him, trying not to be too awkward. 

“Hey, sweetheart”, he grimaces, failing his own attempt to not make the situation seem a bit uneasy. 

“So”, you say, finding a seat in Jakes lap, who automatically wraps his arms around your waist. “Did Jake already spoke with you about the rules? And do you have anything on your heart you want me to know before we start?” 

Bradley shakes his head. “I honestly have nothing to say and regarding the rules, yes, he told me all of them. I am not allowed to touch either of you, unless I’ve been ask too explicitly but I can touch myself. I am allowed to give him some suggestions on what to do with you and If I feel uncomfortable, I can go at any time.” You nod in agreement.

 For a hot minute you already forgot that you are wearing a thin piece of nothing, but as you feel Bradley’s hazel eyes heavy on your pushed up breasts, you were suddenly put back into realization on what you were about to do, feeling a tight knot of excitement building in your lower belly.

You turn your head back to your husband, who put your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, before he presses your head down to kiss you.

 It was as if he could feel your slight nervousness, so he gave his best to calm you down by building his kiss up slowly.

He lovingly nips on your lower lip before he soothes it with the tip of his tongue, one of his hands wandering from your waist to your ass check which he squeezes lightly. His tongue found its way between your plush lips, while the kiss grew hotter and more passionate. As he lets go of you, you could feel his now hard cock press against your barely clothed center on which you could already see a dark patch. 

Jake now heaves you up from his lap, positioning you right in front of Bradley’s chair, who had watched your short make up scene with dark eyes. Your husband sits down at the end of the bed, where he has a similar view of you as his best friend has.

 “Honey, don’t you want to show our guest what’s hiding under this beautiful set?”, the blonde smirks at you. 

You nod coyly, your hands finding their way to your bra cups. You slowly put one out after the other, kneading them in a steady rhythm before you hardly pinch your nipples, moaning softly just as you know your husband loves it. 

“Get rid off that whole thing. Now”, Bradley commands in a raspy voice, unzipping his pants while he spoke. Jakes gaze finds yours and as he nods in agreement your hands wander to the zipper between your breasts. 

As you pull yourself out of the lingerie your eyes never left Bradley’s. 

“Isn’t she the most stunning woman you ever saw, Bradshaw”, the blonde asks his friend who hums in agreement. 

“Honey, why don’t you get in the middle of the bed and show us how wet you already are?”

You did as you were told, positioning yourself in the middle of the bed, hips lightly lifted, and legs spread as wide as possible. Even though you could not see your own core, the dark gleam in Jakes and Bradley’s eyes told you that you must be glistening with your own slick. 

“So soaked already honey?”, your husband teases, while he pulls his throbbing cock out of his boxer briefs. 

“Haven’t really touched you yet and you are already a mess. I Think you should touch yourself before you get my cock. We don’t want Bradley thinking that you get anything without earning it before, don’t we?”

You nod eagerly, your fingers already gliding through your folds to collect your wetness and bring it right up to your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles around it. 

Soft moans were leaving your lips as you continue your movements on your nub, as you heard Bradley’s deep voice again. 

“Pinch your nipples again, sweetheart. Want to hear you sweet sounds grow a little louder”.

As before, you obey immediately, pinching your hard nipples: “Fuck”, you moan bugging your hips against your own hand. It didn’t take much longer until you heard heavy breaths coming from the other side of the room, where Jake and Bradley slowly pump their selves in the same rhythm as you were circling your clit. 

“Fuck, Jake. I need more”, you whine. 

“Tstsktsktsk”, your husband made, as he left his place at the end of the bed to sit down on the same height where your head was. 

“Did you forget how to ask nicely, honey?” Before you could answer you felt a sudden harsh slap on your pussy which makes you moan out loudly.

“Fuck”, you said in the same moment as Bradley did. Jake shows you his signature smirk.

 “Try again, baby.” 

“Please, please, daddy. I need more. My fingers don’t feel as good as you do. Please I need something more”. 

“Good girl”, he praises as he lets his head down to kiss you again. “Bradshaw what do you think she should get? My fingers, my mouth, or my cock?” 

“Your mouth”, Bradley states immediately, breathing heavy and voice filled with lust as he spoke. “Want to see how much she can take”. 

It does not take Jake more than 10 seconds to obey his friend’s word, setting himself up between your legs. He lets his thick fingers glide through your folds, collecting your slick as you did a couple of minutes ago, before bringing the finger up to his lips, closing his eyes with relish as he tastes you. 

“Do you think we should give Bradley a little foretaste of what he is missing?”, the sparkle in his green eyes was devilish. You nod, knowing nothing but another plea would be able to leave your lips if you opened them. 

The blonde between your legs repeats his earlier action before he stood up, offering the brunette who was pumping his thick cock, his finger. 

 It was not the deep groan Bradley let out as soon as the tastes your wetness, but the look in both of their eyes as Jakes finger still stays in Bradley’s mouth after Rooster had already licked it clean, that makes more than clear to you that this was the first but not the last time Rooster would be a guest in your bedroom. 

Not that you really cared, you simply wanted to be fucked by your husband. 

In a desperate attempt to re-focus Jakes attention on his soaked and naked wife, you wiggle your hips and let out a squeal. “Daddy. Please”. 

“Shhh, Honey. Daddy is here”, your husband reassures you, finding his way back between your legs. “You are a bit impatient today. Let’s see if you are really able to take what you are begging for”. 

With these words his head dives down to your core, his lips immediately wrap around your clit, sucking harshly on it. “Fuck fuck fuck”, you scream, fingers interwinding with Jakes blonde locks and tugging on them. 

Jake eats pussy like a starving man. And you are his last meal.

Being together with Jake for a couple of years now, he had found his way to get you screaming and squirming beneath him within seconds.

He sucks, he nibs, he licks, he nabs at your clit, always changing the motions. He adds a little pressure before he fully takes it away, waiting to hear you beg again.

 Begging for his lips to suck you into heaven. 

“Fuck. Daddy. I can’t…”, you were not able to form a coherent sentence, your brain feels completely mushy as your husband did anything but reducing the intensity of his torture to your pussy. 

Jake groans into your core, as his tongue finds its way to your aching hole, your hips bucking up into his face as he starts to tongue-fuck you.          

“God. Daddy, yes. Please don’t stop. Please. Jake”, you brabble as you feel your climax crushing down on you. Your eyes fall shut, and your mouth was open wide in a silent scream, as your husband makes no attempt to let go of your cunt. Quite the opposite was the case, as his tongue found his way back to your overstimulated clit, sucking on it softly.

“Jake”, you whine, tucking on his hair, trying to make him let go of you.

“You begged for him, sweetheart. Now you should be able to take your husband”, Bradley, who you have forgotten about for a hot second, smirks at you, fisting his cock now in a faster pace. “I think she should take your fingers now”, he adds towards Jake, who obeys as soon as he hears the words.

Two of his thick fingers find their way to your neglected hole, which he curls up just right to make them meet the sweet spot in your tight walls. 

Your back aches up from the mattress at that feeling, screaming out his name. 

“Oh god, oh god, oh god”, you moan, the wet sounds of his fingers thrusting in and out your cunt filling the room. The air was sticky and hot, sweat pearls down your forehead as you felt your second climax approaching. “Cum for me, Honey”, Jake mumbles against your pussy, sucking your clit accordingly to his finger thrusts. 

The high pitch, porn like sounding moan which left you lips the moment you came again, still echoes in your ears as you pull your husband up to meet his lips in a feverish kiss.

Another, deeper moan, leaves your lips as you taste your own release on Jakes tongue. 

“Think you are able to take my cock now?”, Jake asks, his forehead pressed onto yours, his right-hand cups your heated cheek. 

You nod eagerly, desperate to feel your husband filling you up. Jake manhandles you onto your knees, ass in the air, face turned in the direction where Bradshaw was placed. 

Jake comes up behind you, gliding his cock through your folds, using your slick as lube before he puts his cock right where you need him the most. You whine as you can feel him on your entrance but not pushing into you. “I want you to look Bradley in the eyes while I fuck you. If you break eye contact with him, you will regret it. Understand?”, he asks. 

“Yes, daddy”, you answer turning your head high, eyes meeting Bradley hazel ones.

“Such a good girl for us, isn’t she, Bradley?”, Jake finally thrusts into you as he asks Bradley, who winks at you at the words.

“She is. A really good girl. Even though she looks like a slut when she lets you fuck her like a dog with bouncing tits while she sounds like a porn star fresh out of a movie”.

You moan out loudly as Jake finds that special spot, his rhythm neither really slow nor really fast but his thrusts were hard. 

“Yeah, she is such a good little slut. Always let her daddy use her like he wants. Tell Bradley what you are, Honey.” 

“Daddy’s pretty fuck toy”, you answer, eyes shutting close as you feel the tip of Jakes cock brushing your cervix. 

“But not a good fuck toy”, Bradley smirks. “Didn’t obey your daddy correctly when closing your eyes”. 

Your eyes fly wide open, cursing yourself as Jakes delicious movements stop immediately. 

“Oh sugar”, Jakes says with a mimicked sad voice. “I told you, you would be punished, if you don’t keep your eyes on Bradley all the time”. 

And without a single warning he slaps the flesh of your ass harshly, while his cock was still buried deep inside your cunt. “Keep your eyes on Bradley and count. If you lose track again, you won’t be cumming again tonight. Got it?”

“Yes daddy”, you whine, eyes meeting Bradley’s again, precum was now leaking from the tip of his cock. 

“One”, you count as he slaps you again at the exact same point as before.

“Two”.

“Three”.

“Four”.

At the fifth slap you were not able to hold back a deep moan as his hand meets your red and hot skin. 

“She really is a slut. Getting off by her punishment”, Bradley grins.

“Jealous, Rooster?”, the blonde behind you asks, as he meets your ass for the sixth and seventh slap.

“Just a tiny bit”, Bradley grumbles.

The last three slaps followed quickly before Jake presses a kiss to your sweaty shoulder and reminded you  of his rules again. 

He then starts to set a fast, hard pace. His cock brushing your cervix again and again.

“Such a good girl”, he praises you. “Took your punishment so well. Such a pretty slut for me and Bradley. Going to fill you up so nice with my cum, honey. Mark you up, so Rooster never forgets that he is allowed to look but never to touch you”.

Jake brabbles, his grips on your hips becoming stronger, the both of you knowing very well that there will be bruises the next day. 

“Look at him, Baby. How the poor guy fists his cock, looking at you but knowing that he will never be able to have you. Having to see your beautiful tits bounce but he will never be allowed to hear your soft moans when he sucks them gently, just like you love it. Fuck. 

You are just mine to fuck. Mine to breed. Mine to care for. Mine to love. My wife”.

You moan in agreement, not able to form a sentence while you desperately try to let your gaze stay interlocked with the heavy breathing man in front of you. 

“Isn’t that what you want, Bradshaw? Fucking my wife? Feeling her hot walls clench around you dick? Feel her plush lips on your neck?” 

“Fuck yes”, Bradley moans, his hand movements become frantically.

“Fuck, Jake, s’close”, you moan. 

“I know, Baby. I feel you. M’close too. Bradshaw?”, he asks his friend, who then nods. 

“Want us to come together”, you say, begging Bradley with your eyes to agree to this. 

“Fuck, yes”, both of them said at the same time. 

Jake picks up his pace, Bradley’s hand movement follows so that he was fucking himself in the same rhythm as Jake was fucking you.

“3”, Jake starts to count down.

“2”, Bradley moans deeply, as he saw your eyes roll in the back of your head.

“1”, you scream out, as you reach your climax as the boys reach theirs. 

You saw white streaks of cum flooding out of Bradley’s cock as Jake feels you up with his, marking you as he promised too. Your body collapsed onto the sheets, your breath heavy, and a bit irregular. You close your eyes, as you feel Jake pulling out of you. 

“Honey are you with me?”, your husband asks, as he rubs soothing circles on your back before he picks you up into his lap, cuddling you close.

You nod, your throat feels dry from begging and moaning for the last hour. 

Bradley’s eyes meet yours, as he reaches out for the wipes Jake has placed on the desk next to him, to clean himself up.

“That was insane”, he states, voice sounding hoarse.

“Indeed”, Jake agrees, pressing a kiss onto your head.

“Who wants a repetition?” 

[seresinsbabe]

Happy anniversary! Can I get Hangman for List 4 with number 44, “I saw you naked once.  And now I can’t stop thinking about it" please!

Thank you!! This started out as a blurb and it well...it's definitely not a blurb anymore.

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+! MDNI! Awkward encounters, awkward Jake, mentions of alcohol, mentions of masturbation, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (be smart with your parts please!)

Ash's 1K Follower Celebration

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It had been a complete accident. Jake had been distracted by something stupid Rooster had said and instead of opening the bathroom door he opened your bedroom door.

There your naked form stood still glistening with water from the shower you'd just taken. A glob of white lotion in your hand that hovered just over your chest where you'd been getting ready to apply it. Droplets of water fell from your hair, running down until they'd hit your nipples. All peaked and perky from the air conditioning that kept the home at a comfortable temperature in the San Diego summer.

He'd stared way too long. Drinking in every inch of you before he realized what he was doing. His face heating up in embarrassment as he slammed the door shut and yelled and apology.

That was a month ago and he'd been unable to wipe you from his mind since.

Not that he wanted to.

But it would a little less painfully pitiful if he could.

The images of you writhing underneath him, screaming out his name, taking his cock as deep as you could. They kept him awake at night. He'd jerked off more in the past month than he had since he hit puberty.

For the first couple of weeks after it had happened he couldn't look at you. Now he could, until you looked at him and then he was immediately jerking his gaze away from you.

It actually hurt you. The way he was doing everything in his power to avoid looking at you.

Since it happened you'd been wracking your brain as to why Jake was being this way. At first you chalked it up to embarrassment. And that made sense. He'd walked in on Phoenix's roommate. Of course he'd be embarrassed, but you figured that the embarrassment would blow over. It was fucking Jake Seresin. You were surprised he was embarrassed in the first place. Now that the avoidance continued you started to wonder if it was because of how you looked when naked. Maybe he'd found you so abhorrent that he couldn't bear to look at you.

Whatever the reason you were bound and determined to find out. Tonight was the night.

When Nix had come home earlier that week, letting you know that Rooster had invited the both of you over for a barbecue and bonfire, you started hatching a plan.

It wasn't a complex plan by any means. The only steps to it included cornering Jake when he was alone and asking him straight up why he wouldn't look at you.

Your chance came when he got up, mentioning something about need to hit the head. You waited a minute after his departure and got up yourself. Stating you were going to mix up another drink in the kitchen. No one questioning the fact that you had a full drink in your hand.

The house was empty and just as you breached the door you heard the toilet flush. A bit of the whiskey and coke spilled on the counter as you set it down in a rush to catch Jake in the hallway.

He'd thought he'd done good all night. Avoiding looking at you and preventing a tent from forming in his jeans. If he looked at you his mind would wander. The memory of the smell of the pomegranate and vanilla lotion would invade his senses and he couldn't do that in front of everyone. They'd give him so much shit.

"Why the fuck won't you look at me?" Jake jumped a bit when he opened the door. The last thing he'd been expecting was you standing there, hands on your hips and foot tapping expectantly.

"Wha-I- what are you talkin' about?" He felt his throat constrict. He couldn't not look at you and he was trying to everything in his head to keep from thinking about you naked and covered in water.

A huff of air flared your nostrils and your arms moved from your hips to cross over your chest. Jake had to look away again for a second as the movement pushed your tits up, exposing them more than the flimsy sundress already was.

"Since you saw me naked! Am I that repulsive that you can't even look at me now?!"

Huh? His eyes snapped to yours. You thought that he thought you were repulsive?

A soft grin pulled at his mouth as he searched your eyes. "That's what you think?" Jake asked, taking steps towards you. "That I saw you naked and can't look at you because you're ugly?"

"Well yeah. Why else?" You pushed back, jutting your chin up as you met his eyes.

Jake let out a sarcastic chuckle, stepping towards you again until your back hit the wall. His arms came up, caging you in on either side. Your eyes flickered between the limbs, noting the way they flexed and how it made his veins more prominent.

"Sweets, I saw you naked once," he started, leering down at you with a look you couldn't quite place, "and now I can't stop thinking about it." Jake's mouth hovered just over yours. "I can't look at you because if I do all the things I want to do to you flood my brain." His voice was low and husky.

You swallowed hard, feeling a coil start to build in your belly. Jake Seresin wanted to fuck you. Jake Seresin couldn't look at you because he wanted to fuck you so badly. You.

"Then let your brain win."

You weren't sure where the sudden boldness came from. Maybe it was the coil in your belly tightening or with the intoxicating smell of his cologne. Sandalwood and cognac. Whatever it was you knew you wanted him and you knew you wanted him to act on what he wanted.

His eyes searched yours, the green orbs darkened with lust. When he found whatever it was he was looking for he captured your lips in a heated kiss.

Your arms wrapped around his neck and he lifted you up by your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist. With one hand and the wall he kept you up while his other hand blindly searched for a doorknob. He didn't care what room he fucked you in, he just knew he couldn't fuck you in Rooster's hallway.

It didn't take him long to find a doorknob and before you knew it you were naked and underneath him on a mattress. Whether it was Rooster's or a guests you didn't care.

"Oh fuck!" The expletive flew out of your mouth as your back arched. Jake had buried himself inside of you, stretching your walls deliciously.

It took him a few seconds to start thrusting. So many you almost started begging him to move. Each thrust had your walls molding around his cock, clenching and unclenching in a way that had him almost seeing stars.

"So-fuck-" he faltered in his words when he hit that spot in your cunt that had you squeezing him like a vice. "Gon'be the death f'me." He mumbled, his head falling into the crook of your neck.

The mewls falling from your mouth grew louder, nearing screams the closer he brought you to the edge. Neither of you thinking about the group of people outside.

"What's taking them so lo-" Coyote's question was cut short when they heard the sound of your scream. They all knew what it meant.

"Fucking finally!" Phoenix mumbled, tossing back the rest of her drink and then throwing the beer can in the fire.

"Ah shit...I think they're in my room." Rooster groaned and slumped further in his chair. "I just washed the sheets too!"

[waklman]

Chatterbox

prompt: bob helps his teacher assistant girlfriend get her mind off work.

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni. fingering, oral (f receiving), slight size kink and dumbification if you squint.

a/n: dont ask me why im releasing one-shots before i even finish chapter one, because i dont know either okay. but anyway, here is a peak at bob and honeybee :).

word count: 2.3k

college au, frat boy au

the after party masterlist.

Bob never had a problem with how chatty you could get. 

If there was one thing Bob was grateful for, it was his girlfriend's ability to fill in an awkward silence when needed. The blond was certain he could listen to you talk all day, running that pretty mouth of yours while he sat there nodding attentively. And it was just a plus that you looked so enamoring, eyes glittering in excitement and hands animatedly gesturing as you spoke. 

However, Bob did have a problem with how chatty you got about your TA tasks—especially when you were supposed to be forgetting about them for now. The end of the semester always came with a bigger pile of work, but today was a Saturday. Yet, you're still thinking about school.

For once, the rowdy frat house was empty with everyone visiting home for spring break. It was a perfect opportunity for Bob to finally get you out of the grayed out dorm room you trapped yourself in, day in and day out. So, when he made the move to invite you over, he had every intention to ease your stress, hence the dress code of comfy attire only. 

But this afternoon, it looks like Bob has to do more than just lay stomach down between the plush of your thighs, glasses set off to the side, letting you mindlessly braid his hair, and mindlessly run your mouth.

“Does he think I have no life?” Your pointed complaints are still ongoing, leaving you ignorant to the subtle movement below you. 

While your brewing anger is very much directed at Professor Simpson, it’s currently being spewed towards Bob’s ceiling fan—which can do nothing to argue back—just how you like it. If looks could kill, the mean glare you’re giving the motionless object suspended over his bed would be on living its last day. 

The remembrance of your professor’s threatening email to you about getting grades out, completely distracts you from the braid of blond hair in your hands, slowly losing its structure as your boyfriend shifts his weight under you. 

Again, you let out an annoyed breath. “Five days of my spring break to grade some last minute assignment he just—conveniently forgot to mention to me?!” 

You’re so lost in your story telling that you’re not even registering the hot breath dusting over your exposed tummy, and the gradual rise of your shirt as Bob uses his nose to drag the fabric upwards, ghosting his lips over your navel. 

Bob shakes his head against you, mildly entertained by your cluelessness. 

“Remind me to never work with the english department again,” you huff, hands now curling into fist at your sides, regretting your decision to assist with that course over the others available to you this semester. 

“‘Cause now I have over eighty research papers to check ove–” With a light pull of his teeth, Bob loosens the drawstring of your sweatpants.

The sound of the thick cord coming undone from the knot is muted compared to your tangent, but your ears catch the noise, your stomach feels it, and your mouth clamps shut immediately.

Blinking at the ceiling dumbly, you open your mouth to say his name, but it just snaps shut again. 

After a beat of silence, there’s two sets of fingers hooked into the loose band of your sweats next, giving your pants a suggestive tug. 

Bob makes sure to keep his patience at bay, wanting to soak in your flustered state, just a bit more. Because, honestly, he would’ve ripped these sweats off you long ago if you weren’t so cute—already so meek and tiny under him. 

With your eyes still refusing to meet his very own, you miss him running an intending gaze over the underside of your jaw, and making note of the bead of sweat running down your cheek. While you were the one mostly making him nervous in your relationship, it was a nice change of pace to inflict it back onto you once in a while. You were so obliging too. 

Bob lowly hums, eyes dropping to the strappy pink lace sitting on your hip bone, revealed by his slight yank of your sweats. “Honeybee..” he commands your attention. “You gonna let me see these cute little panties you got on for me?”

Bashfully, you lift your butt off the mattress, letting him pull it off your waist. Because, yes, you will let him. Though, you’re sure they’re thoroughly soaked through at this point. 

“There’s my good girl,” he sings, deep voice vibrating through his chest, pleased by your obedience.

If you weren’t very aware that his head was currently stationed between your legs, you would’ve clenched your thighs together at his raspy tone.

Finally, you suck in a nervous breath, redirecting your attention down to your boyfriend who’s starting to make his way down your legs—dragging down the thick fabric, leaving wet open mouthed kisses to the flesh of your thighs, to the side of your calves, and finally to your ankle. 

Near the foot of the bed, he sits up momentarily to tear your pants off your feet. They go flying into his open closet. “B-Bobby,” your breath shallows at his sudden forwardness. 

“What? Nothin’ to complain about anymore?” He quietly teases, a faint smirk playing on his lips, laying back between your ankles. 

“Well…I—not really. No it’s just–,” you stammer, rubbing the wet pads of your fingers together.

“That’s what I thought,” he cuts you off. 

Keeping his eyes locked onto yours, Bob makes his way back up your naked legs. All you can do is blink at him, arousal sitting heavy at your pulsating core. He almost looks unrecognizable. The baby blue eyes you’re so used to seeing are casted over in a thick, dark, cloud of lust. 

With him settled between your thighs, Bob’s eyes snap down to your slick, leaking through the flowery lace pattern in front of him. “So fuckin’ wet for me honey,” he marvels, licking a slow, flat stripe to your covered folds, with a slight pressure against you, coating his tastebuds in your arousal. The tip of his tongue flicks your bud, teasingly, as he moves off. 

“Please,” you thoughtlessly whine, heat blooming through your chest. 

Without so much of a warning, Bob roughly tears off your panties with one hand, pocketing it for himself. 

You raise your voice. “No! That was—” Again, he cuts you off.

In an instant, his front is pressed to yours, pushing you into the mattress, meeting you in a desperate, sloppy kiss. Eyes fluttering close, you return the eagerness, letting him swallow every small noise that sears through your throat. Then, a fuzz takes over your brain, eyes scrunching in pleasure as his knee nudges your exposed clit. The scratchy fabric of his plaid pants drives you on, more than you expected it to. 

You can’t help but to buck your hips, chasing the feeling. But the moment you start a steady grind against him, Bob stills you, pressing a firm hand on your hip, ripping his mouth from you at the realization that you’re starting to get yourself off.

At the loss of his knee, a small whine escapes your lips, and your glossy eyes blink open again. 

There’s a light threat resting on his tongue, but it immediately dies at the sight of you, pupils shot, underneath him.

Even with the steady hold of your lower half, you’re shaking as you struggle to remain still for him. The pinch of his eyebrows loosen, eyes dropping down to the heave of your chest under his t-shirt. But what finally does it, is the way his hand fully swallows the side of your hip. Experimentally, he stretches his fingers against you, scanning the amount of skin he covers with the move. 

Biting your lip nervously, you start to pathetically plead with him again. “I’m sorry. I–I’ll be good. I–Please. Will be so good for you.”

He knows he should’ve held out longer, but for some reason—he’s spurred on to get his hands on you again.

In a matter of seconds, he dips back down, placing bites on your sweaty neck. You’re so sure it’s punishment for trying to ride his knee, because he’s leaving them in spots he knew would be hard to hide.

The hand that was previously keeping you steady, extends down to your swollen folds, forcing a pitched whine from your throat as he toys your clit. “Oh–Ah–F-Fuck,” you moan, clamping one hand around the back of his neck, as the other scrunches the sheet below you.

Dipping his thumb down to your dripping entrance, he collects your slick, before coating your bundle of nerves with it. Then, Bob bites down harshly on your collarbone, continuing to draw tight, uniformed circles as you mewl from the precision. 

It’s almost heartless, the way his pointer and middle finger curl into you next, roughly working against your walls that instinctively tighten around him. You're glad no one's home, because you couldn’t be bothered to stifle the shaky moans and mindless string of pleas that falls from your lips, begging him for more. Because it just feels too good. But, even if some of his house-mates were present, you're not too sure if you could stay quiet.

"That good, huh?" He licks over one of the marks he's been littering across your skin.

Bob’s mouth pulls into a pleased smirk against the side of your neck, letting you chase his hand, hips snapping off the mattress as you soak him down to his wrist. With his other hand, Bob’s palm travels up your bunched up shirt, giving your left breast a quick squeeze before rolling the hardened bud between two fingers. 

“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs in your ear, putting more pressure on your swollen clit, working in unison with the unrelenting drag of his fingers inside you. All you can do is blabber, brows knitted in pleasure—too caught up in the building knot in your stomach. “I—I want—” You careen off the mattress again, rolling against his drenched hand.

“What is it?” He clicks his tongue at your incoherent response, fucking his fingers into you harder.

In response, another jumble of unintelligible sentences is pushed out of you. “Want my mouth on that pretty pussy? Is that it?” 

The palm under your shirt slips downward, as he removes himself from the crook of your neck, trailing down to your sopping core—all while keeping the bruising pace of his hand against you, eyes glued to the glossy sheen coating his entire forearm. It’s quick, the way he swaps from his thumb to his tongue, suctioning it around your clit, giving it all of his attention.

You’re not even sure you’re breathing anymore. There’s a burn rippling through your lungs as your jaw hangs open in a silent moan, unable to grapple the feeling of him groaning loudly against you. 

With your orgasm growing in the pit of your stomach Bob pushes you closer to it, adding a third finger, splitting you open and hitting you at the exact spot that gets your thighs to clench around his head, muffling his ears. With the confirmation that you’re close, his eyes snap shut—lapping at you with such vigor that the intensity finally sends you over the edge. 

The orgasm hits like a strong wave, washing over your trembling body as it racks every part of you. You're so sure, you felt your bones shake inside you. Underneath you, Bob slowly removes himself from your sensitive core, sweetly pressing his lips to your inner thigh, murmuring praise with each soft kiss. 

You suck in a much-needed breath of air, trying to focus your vision. At the moment, Bob has two ceiling fans overlapping over each other. 

“I–I don’t even care about the essays anymore,” you confess. How could you when your boyfriend ate you out like his life depended on it?

Tucking your chin, you curiously look down at him. With your wetness completely coating half his face, leading down to his bobbing Adam’s apple—he lightly laughs. He looks that good, and he has the audacity to laugh, causing your cheeks to heat up—as if you aren’t half naked in front of him.

You’ve always had trouble hiding your fluster when he smiled at you like that—So you’re certain, he can see how it’s affecting you. 

“That was my intention, Honeybee,” he rises to sit his knees, gently scooping you into a sitting position.

The oversized tee drops down your upper body as you sit up in front of him. You shouldn’t be—but you’re embarrassed to feel his sticky hand on the small of your back as he holds you up. “I love you, but you gotta give yourself a break. I can listen to you all day, swear it. I just—don’t like seeing you stress yourself out for no reason.”

He kisses your forehead, almost as if he's implanting the reminder there. Bob then gives your back an affectionate rub, prompting your lips to twitch, a tell-tale sign they’re about to wobble next. 

Biting down on your bottom lip to stop yourself, you lean forward, wrapping your weak arms around his neck. “I love you so much. Don’t deserve you,” you profess, brows knitted together—hit with the random urge to cry.

The only response you ever got from your incessant ranting were snappy remarks, telling you to shut up or go into another room if you were gonna talk to yourself.  But here you are, in the arms of the first person to ever admit that they don’t mind it. On top of that, he even loves you—caring enough to voice his concerns about your habit of rambling, which only resulted in a build up of unwanted anxiety.

Bob softens, pulling you closer to him, petting the top of your head. “You deserve me,” he assures you. “And you deserve a bath too, with me,” he adds on.

You quietly sniffle. “And cuddles.”

“How could I forget,” he scolds himself jokingly, drawing a giggle from you. At that, his mouth breaks out in a smile. “Then you can catch me up on the stuff you were tellin’ me about last week. You haven’t told me what happened after Professor Benjamin was caught with Bradley’s uncle.”

“Oh! Right. So when I walked in on them…” Bob listens intently, coaxing you off his mattress, laughing at your—maybe too detailed—description of what you saw. Once you’re both inside the bathroom, you move onto your opinions and theories next. Bob leans in close to your seated figure on the bathtub ledge, letting you talk into his ear, tuning out the loud bath water shooting out the faucet. 

His eyes widen, pulling back in surprise at your theory. “No way!”

“Yes, way!” You burst out in laughter, grabbing onto his shirt as he joins you. He makes sure to cradle your head so it doesn’t hit the sink by the tub. The sound of the running water can barely be heard over the obnoxious cries of laughter that come next.

After the bath, the rest of the day is spent with you playing with his hair as you stream through your gossip, updating your attentive boyfriend on what he missed out on. And he enjoys every second of it.

So, it just stamps it down further, that Bob never had a problem with how chatty you got.

note: thank you for reading, seeing that i'm struggling a bit to put something out for this series, i decided to put this out for now! :) as always, thank you for reading and reblogs are always greatly appreciated.

join the taglist for this series here or follow me on @waklman-library and turn on notifs to be notified when i post!

tags: @blueoorchid @queen-of-elves @cherrylipgloss-baby @purplevortexx @goosterroose @floralfloyd @doggo-and-goosey @chicomonks @maplesyurp07 @grxcisxhy-wp @anna1523 @laylaskywalker

[aworldinsideaperson]

Candy Cane Kisses

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Plus Size!AFAB!Reader

Summary: Candy Cane Kisses takes us to a Texas ranch on Christmas night, Jake “Hangman” Seresin is watching his sister’s best friend from across the room as he nurses the bottle of beer in his hand. His Bambi is somehow more beautiful than she’d been when they met three years prior, the last time they’d seen each other until only two nights before and he wonders if she can still taste him like that candy cane between her lips. 

Warnings: 18+, No use of Y/N (Reader is nicknamed Bambi), No happy ending (for now). There is talk of food, relatively explicit talk of sex as well as some pretty graphic foreplay/kissing with the reader being described with vaginal anatomy but the actual smut happens behind closed doors. 

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N:

First: This is part of @sailor-aviator’s Christmas Writing Challenge but it is also a companion piece to a longer story/series I’m working on so while there is no happy ending in this piece the overall story, once completed, will have a happy ending. But once again, THIS PIECE DOES NOT HAVE A HAPPY ENDING so read at your own risk. 

Second: The smut was supposed to be in the story but I felt like it didn’t need it but if people want to read it separately I might consider finishing it and posting it.

Third and probably most important: Anything you’d like me to tag as warning or in a description or anything please let me know. I haven’t really posted anything longer than a couple hundred words since like 2016 so it’s been a while and I know fandom and fanfiction has changed quite a bit since I’ve been an active member of it so please bear with me while I get my bearings. 

Sailor-Aviator’s Christmas Writing Challenge

December 23rd, 2013

Sometimes he replayed that kiss in his head. Sometimes he berated himself for not giving more. Sometimes he imagines pressing his lips to parts of her that he’d never seen. He knew She was older now, they both were, he’d seen the pictures on instagram and facebook, the occasional snapchat with drunk hazy eyes and the same smile she’d had the very first time he’d met her. It’d been more than three years since they’d seen each other in person but even from across a crowded bar with Christmas music blasting and chatter at an all time high, Jake could still hear her laugh and when his eyes shot in the direction of what had once been his favorite sound he knew then and there he was a goner. Even as he makes his way across the room to stand beside her at the bar he knows it’s a mistake but he’s thought about her for three years, and how much hurt could a conversation really do.

“Bambi.” A simple word, a nickname given to her that very first day as she watched the movie for the very first time with tears in her eyes. At the sound her eyes drifted closed, tension leaving her shoulders as she let out a breath before looking over to him with a smile. 

A conversation. That’s what he’d told himself. What harm could it do to just say hello, just ask how she was doing, just talk like the old friends they were. It wasn’t until an hour later when he stood inside her bedroom with his hand in her hair and his cock down her throat that he realized maybe his first instinct had been right. Maybe he shouldn’t have followed the sound of her voice, maybe he should have left the bar the second he heard a laugh that made his heart skip, maybe he shouldn’t have come back home at all.

December 24th, 2013

Jake sat on the arm of the couch, his cousin Isaac standing over him gesturing wildly with his unoccupied hand as he recounted a story Jake assumed would be interesting if he could pay attention to anything other than the sound of that laugh from across the room. The cold bottle swung between his fingers nearly empty. If he finished it he’d have to get another, if he went to get another he’d have to walk past her, if he walked past her he was sure she’d smell of that sweet gingerbread lotion she’d slathered on her hands, the same as the night before. He’d have to come face to face with her and that candy cane between her soft lips. He tried not to think about those lips, tried to listen to Isaac talk about the latest ponzi scheme he’d gotten himself involved with, tried not to remember the way her lips felt wrapped around his- 

“Dude I’m serious this would be a great investment opportunity! And I know you’ve got some capital, what with that military salary and all.” 

Isaac’s eyes were wide with excitement  but Jake’s face was contorted in pity as he sighed. “I don’t know Isaac.”

With that his face fell. “Why not man?”

Opening his mouth to give the older man an answer he really didn’t have, except to say that some guy name Brad has Isaac by the balls, Jake was saved by the voice of his mother as she quickly approached the pair.

“Jacob,” She started, laying a hand on his shoulder and looking softly at him, usually a sign she was about to ask for physical labor. “Do you think you could help Bambi bring the rest of the cookies from the basement? We’re running low up here and you know if someone doesn’t go down with her she’s gonna try to carry them all up by herself.”

He sighed but he didn’t argue. “Sure thing Mama,” He stood and clapped his cousin on the shoulder as he walked away. “I’ll catch up with you later Isaac.”

“Okay but seriously think about what I was tellin’ ya.”

With his back turned Jake nodded as he rolled his eyes. “Absolutely.” He knew would absolutely not be thinking about it as he took a few long strides towards the basement door and made his way down the steps.

The Seresin’s basement had never been a place to fear. Finished long before even their first child arrived Jake had always known it as a playroom, a game room, a movie room, whatever his family had needed it to be. He could hear his nieces and nephews to the right of the stairs, no doubt playing with the collection of toys new and old that lived in the too big toy chest in the corner of what could have been a third living room. To his left he could hear the rustling of plastic and clanging of aluminum in what was originally intended to be a second full bar for his dad but his mother had taken over as christmas cookie and bulk grocery storage. Once fully down the steps he could see her then, his back to him as she tried to stack two trays of his mother’s treats on top of one another and he smirked, that was just like her.  “I know you’re not trying to carry all those containers up by yourself.” He made his way toward the woman maneuvering the stack to goodies to get the best angle, gently laying his hand on her lower back. 

Relaxing at his touch Bambi looked up at Jake with a smile of her own. “I’m an independent woman who only takes one trip, especially with stairs involved.”

“Well as independent as I know you are imagine the hell mama would give me if she knew I let you carry them all up yourself. So will you spare me the wrath?”

Bambi rolled her eyes, replying with a sarcastic chuckle. “Well I suppose I could take pity on you given how well you ate pussy last night.”

The man’s shoulders dropped, “About last night,” He started, the room becoming thick with silence. “It was-“ He couldn’t finish, taking his hand off of Bambi and placing both of them on the counter as he turned from her slightly. He didn’t even know what he should say, didn’t know what the truth was, didn’t know if he should tell the truth even if he knew it.

Bambi nodded and sighed, back straightening as she toyed with the edge of the wrapped cookie trays. “A one time thing, yeah, nothing, I get it and I don’t plan on telling anyone. Not even Mary. She’ll lose her mind if she found out we almost fucked.” 

‘Fucked’ the word didn’t feel right. She’d never felt anything like what she felt the night before, memories of his hands and lips trailing over every inch of her body, every square of skin an erogenous zone with his touch. Fucked was something that happened after heated arguments and on couches in frat houses and in the back of cars. She wondered if last night, even though he’d never been inside her, she wondered if that’s what sex was supposed to be like, still making her feel a need for him almost 24 hours after the fact.

“Good. I mean. I just didn’t want to give you the impression that it was more than it was.” He felt sick at his own words. ‘More than what it was’ what was it exactly? Two people who once knew each other, who’d once been friends, giving each other pleasure? No feelings? As if he didn’t still think about her once a day from sharing one single kiss three years prior. 

The silence feels heavy around them but continuing to plaster a smile on her face Bambi looks up at her best friend’s brother. “I get it.” She starts. “I’m not a teenager with a crush anymore. You may have been the first person I loved but there have been others since. Other kisses, other blow jobs, other sex partners. There will be others after you too.” 

Every muscle in his body was tight as he nodded. “Okay then. It’s all sorted then.” Jake’s stomach churned as he tried not to think of her underneath, on top of, in front of, with other men. He wasn’t neive, he knew last night that the blow job she’d given him had been too good to be the first time she’d done it, someone had instructed her in the past. She knew where she wanted to be kissed and touched and she hadn’t been afraid to move his hands or his mouth or ask for more or less. He knew those things came from experiences. He just hated hearing her say it. Or maybe he hated the thought of after, that there was now an after him. That someone else would touch her and be touched by her and she’d instruct them on how to make her feel the way he had. Make her feel the way he had when he knew no one would ever make him feel the same way she did.

“Yeah, now let’s get these treats up there before people start nibbling on your mom’s gingerbread houses.” With a smile on her face Bambi grabbed the top tray and quickly turned her back to Jake and made her way back upstairs.

She was trapped. Completely and totally trapped. There was no possible way out of the conversation with the man in front of her. She’d tried everything, giving uncomfortable responses, not responding at all, she’d even tried walking away and he’d just followed her. Bambi had met Billy Seresin a few times. He was always too loud and too touchy, he smelled like he smoked 3 packs a day and he never ever shut up. All she had done was give him a polite smile as she was walking past him and into the sitting room, intent on cornering Mary-Ann to pester her about the man who’d shown up to the party as her boyfriend and left 30 minutes prior seemingly losing the title. That had been her plan but of course things hardly seemed to work out the way she expected these last few days especially and nearly 45 minutes later Bambi was sure that if Billy Seresin laid so much as a finger on her again she was going to vomit. But as he raised his hand another slide along her lower back and pulled her closer to him.

“Hey Bill, I’m gonna steal the pretty girl away, hope you don’t mind.” And without waiting for a response Jake led Bambi to the front door, his hand still resting gently on her back.

As they passed the threshold out to the porch her shoulders relaxed as she took in the borderline cold night air. “You are a real hero Jake, if the navy thing doesn’t work out I could whip you up a cape and some spandex, you could go around saving the world from conversations with creeps.” Bambi chuckled as the two settled beside each other on the porch swing, Jake pulling a large blanket from the basket beside them and wrapping it around Bambi’s shoulders.

“Well I’m contractually obligated to the Navy for another few years but afterwards we’ll team up.” His hand rubbed up and down her blanket covered arm a few times before leaning into the back of the swing, his body turned completely towards the woman beside him. “Besides, how was I supposed to let him keep eye fucking you right in front of me.”

“He was not eye fucking me.” Bambi voiced with a roll of her eyes.

“He was,” Jake argued. “I can tell since I’ve done it.”

Turning lifting one knee onto the seat of the swing she turned to completely face Jake. “He’s married to Sarah who’s a fucking dream, no way he’s trying to fuck that up.”

Propping his elbow on the back to their seat, Jake smirked, resting his head on his hand. “You’re way hotter than Sarah.”

“Oh now that’s just a flat lie.” She replied, throwing her head back in laughter.

Lifting his head, Jake let his fingers reach out to slide over a piece of her hair. “I disagree. You’re the hottest woman in any room.” He smirked, giving Bambi an exaggerated wink.

Lulling her head to the side she said his name with a mildly warning tone.

He sighed, throwing his hands up in defense. “Fine I’ll stop saying it. But you can’t make me stop thinking it.” A full genuine smile spread across his face, all the way up to his eyes.

“Sometimes I think you’re too much of a flirt for your own good.” She gave him a gentle shove and her exaggeratedly leaned backwards before sitting up with a laugh.

As the sound of laughter faded Jake admired the woman before him, he’d always thought she was beautiful but the glow of the twinkle lights surrounding the porch made her look ethereal. Even three years later, he’s never gotten over the way he feels around her. For several moments the silence surrounded them, nothing but the light creak of the swing chains and nature. The peacefulness he didn’t expect to be surrounded by was somehow terrifying to him So he filled it. “How’ve you been?”

“Good.” She started, looking at her hands in her lap as she began to pick at the polish. “Mom has been seeing this guy Randy and he’s really nice to her. They’re talking about getting married and moving in together. And Mary bought this new camera and we’re setting up a studio space in the third bedroom of the loft. She’s not sure if she’s going to go back to college with me next fall but I still have plenty of time to convince her.” A soft smile turned up the corners of her lips her eyes still trained toward the fiddling fingers in her lap.

Jake reached out, rubbing his hand slowly over the blanket covering her shoulder. “That’s all great Bam but I asked about you.”

She sighed and then nodded. “Oh, well yeah, yeah. I’m good. I’m good.”

‘You sound unsure.” He pushed.

She reached out her hand to place it on his knee. “No, I'm good. Really.” She assured. “Just not totally used to thinking about it I guess.”

Reaching down to take her hand between both of his, stroking his thumb along her skin. “When’s the last time someone ask how you’ve been doing?”

“About 30 seconds ago.”

Jake looked at her with a warning glare. “Before that, smartass.”

Bambi rolled her head and smiled, her thumb sliding back and forth over Jake’s own calloused knuckles.“You’re the one in the Navy, doing big important things, shouldn’t I be the one asking you how you’re doing?”

Squeezing her hand tightly he gave Bambi a serious look. “You can ask but how you’re doing is no less important than how I’m doing. I’m of the opinion that it’s more important. How can I be okay if I know you’re not?” His question was met with silence and so with a sigh he continued. “I’ve been really good. Made some friends, made some non friends, and I love flying. Have pretty much everything I could ever want. Now you.”

Bambi smiled, giving Jake’s hands a squeeze of her own as she kept her eyes trained on their connected fingers. “I’m good, really. I’m getting my degrees in social work and criminal justice. Victim advocacy is the goal, helping people in similar situations to what Mom and I went through. Things are stressful and I’m scared I’m gonna fail like all the time but I want to help people so badly.” Finally she looked up, tears began to surface in her waterline as she willed them not to fall. “Somewhere out there is a child or a spouse who is going through some of the worst pain of their life and I think about how it felt to be helpless like that and I know I can’t give up.” 

Again, Jake reached out to her, one hand still holding tightly to hers, the other gently brushing a fallen drop from her cheek. “You amaze me Bamb, stronger than me that’s for sure.” A comfortable feeling fell over them as he continued the questioning.“You still in therapy?”

With a smile she nodded, her hand still gripped tightly in Jakes. “Yeah but I’ve been in a pretty good place for a while now so we’ve cut back to once or twice a month with the option for more when I need it. It really helped me to work through a lot of the guilt and anger and sadness. And I can think about it now without wanting to throw up. I still have nightmares but nothing like it used to be.”

Jake grinned at that. “That’s really great. I’m proud of you for sticking with it, I know you were really nervous to be starting it in the first place.”

“Thank you for encouraging me back then, I don’t know if I could have done it without that extra push.” 3 years ago she’d been a girl often afraid of her own shadow. She’d thought she needed to be saved back then but Jake hadn’t been the one to do it. Instead he’d loved her and broken her heart and pushed her to help herself. 

“Of course Bamb I’ve always cared about you, always wanted what’s best for my Bambi.” His hand cupped her cheek, eyes unable to break from hers.

“Jake-“

“I know, I know what we said I just,” He sighed, thumbs gliding softly over the skin of her hand and of her cheek. “I just really miss you.”

“Miss me?”

“Yeah,” Again, silence surrounded them, Jakes eyes dropping to her lips as he continued. “Bambi, about earlier I didn’t-“

“There you are!” Mary-Ann’s interruption pulled the two apart, hands now cold and cheeks warm. “Jake, I told you to interrupt my conversation with Isaac after 3 minutes. I was stuck there forever listening to him talk about whatever bullshit he’s on now. I swear that guy doesn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground.” Mary plopped down in the rocker closest to the swing.

Jake now sat with his feet planted firmly on the porch. “Says the girl about the drop out of college.” He teased.

Mary gasped, turing to her best friend who still had yet to stop reeling. “You told him!?” She exclaimed.

Bambi replied with a soft shrug. “I didn’t know it was a secret.”

With the most sincere puppy dog look she could manage Mary-Ann turned to her brother. “Please don’t tell daddy, he’d be so disappointed in me.”

Jake dropped his shoulders and stood up, placing a hand on his sister’s shoulder.“Oh don’t worry Mary-Ann, he’s already disappointed in you.”

From then on the conversation was nothing but a fit of giggles and insults between the siblings, Bambi still swinging back and forth in a fog as she wondered what he’d been about to say.

The night had slowed, most of his extended family had been long gone before it reached ten and parents retiring upstairs not long after. The house was quiet, the only light coming from the twinkling bulbs strung from corner to corner in every room in the house. Jake sat at the dining room table, his chair cocked slightly in the direction of his companion. He’d had more to drink since earlier in the night, giving his mind a soft haze. At least he thought it was the alcohol, could just as easily be the woman sitting beside him in her red dress, glowing in the soft light. He’d convinced her to have one last drink with him before she walked to Mary-Ann’s apartment over the garage. It’d been nearly an hour ago and the clock was ticking closer to midnight as the two each prolonged the last sip of their drinks.

Bambi reached over, gently patting his hand. “It’s good to have you home Jake. I worry about you a lot.”

Turning his head to look at the table Jake nodded. “I worry about you a lot too.”

“Me?” She chuckled and just like the night before he forgets how to breathe. “I’m not the one spending my days in a flying metal death trap.”

“I still worry about you. We should keep in touch more.” He traces his finger around the opening of his bottle, trying not to make eye contact as she continues to barely laugh at a memory.

“What, my occasional snapchat not enough for you?” She asks.

“Not when I want to hear from you every day.” It then when he finally looks back at her, if he didn’t know her so well he’d think maybe that smile was real and not the fake one she plastered on to keep others at a distance.

“Every day?”

He sighs and nods his head as he once again looks away from the woman beside him. “Yeah. I think about you every day.” He thinks he must be drunk, there is no other way he’d admit something so agonizing, not to himself and certainly not to her.

The silence is palpable as she throws back the last sip of her drink as she stood. “Well I should probably head out.” Her voice is quiet, if he hadn’t been standing beside her so closely he might not have heard it.

“Bambi,” Jake lifted his hand to her cheek, gently stroking her with his thumb as her eyes closed. “I wanna kiss you so bad.”

Opening her eyes she watches him through her lashes as she turns and presses her lips to his palm. “How’s that?”

“Not really what I had in mind.”

She smirked, “Disappointed?” She asked, thinking back to the very first kiss they’d shared so long ago, her first.

“Just thinking maybe you don’t know how to kiss, someone should really teach you.” He lifted his other hand, steadying her face to look up at him.

“I seem to recall my first teacher being awfully strict about what kisses he could and could not give me.”

His right hand lifted to brush the stray hairs for her face and he nodded. “Let me make that up to you?”

“I thought that’s what last night was supposed to be.”

One side of his mouth twisted up into a smirk, his hand now moving to caress the side of her neck. “I don’t remember finishing the job.”

“You made me cum, your job is done.” The memory of his lips and tongue making her knees weak.

“But it was only once.” He argued.

She was staring at his lips now, heart pounding with anticipation. “Once is more than most.” It was a true statement. She knew too many people lying about orgasms for it not to be.

His thumb stroked between her jaw and ear, eyes watching her as her eyes moved from his lips to his own chartreuse orbs. “I’m not most.” 

Voice hardly above a whisper  “Jake?”

“Yes?”

“Just fucking kiss me.”

Four words. Four fucking words and Jake’s mind had gone blank of all thought. All except one. ‘Bambi’. Slowly he dipped his head, gently pressing his lips to her, the familiar taste of candy cane still on her lips from his mother’s christmas cocoa cocktail. He almost pulled away; almost did the exact thing he’d done three years prior, sparing both of them the heartbreak but as she sighed and he felt her melt into his touch he needed just a little more. 

Their lips moved together, slotting her bottom lips between his and gently sliding the tip of his tongue across it. Her hands reached up to tangle in his hair, the velvet locks sliding through her fingers as he began to pepper kisses first at the corner of her mouth before moving down over her jaw and down her neck causing her to moan at the feeling of his lips against her bare skin.

He smiled as he continued to kiss and lick and gently nip at her neck. Bending slightly at the knee he wrapped his arms about Bambi and lifted her to rest on the dining room table where only hours earlier his family had been gathered. She gasped and her high heels dropped to the floor and her arms now draped over his shoulders. Jake’s smile grew as he dropped his lips to hers once again, slotting himself between her thighs and pulling her to the edge allowing her to feel his length pressed between their bodies. “Do you feel that baby? Do you wanna feel it inside you?” Arrogance heavy in his voice, his lips barely brushing over hers.

Bamni’s face contorted and she whined. “Yes. Jake please please please.”

“No need to beg Bambi, whatever you want, it’s yours.” He spoke with a slight chuckle in his voice though the sound of her begging made him twitch. Again his lips trailed over the skin of her neck then to her shoulder, his hands sliding up her thighs under the red dress he’d spent the night imagining on the floor. His fingers traced over the nylon, attempting to feel every bump and curve and dimple of the flesh underneath.

”I want you to touch me.” Her tone is still begging with his lips trailing over her collar bone. Smirking Jake pulled his mouth from her skin and licked his lips, moving the fingers of his right hand to her core, touching her gently through the layers.

“Oh fuck.” He groaned, feeling her slick against the tips of his fingers. “You are so wet I can feel you through your panties and stockings.” Again he pressed his lips to hers, swallowing the moans the escaped from her lips at even his light and obstructed touch. “Stay the night with me?” He asked, lips still brushing against hers.

With an eggar nod and jagged breath she responded with a simple yes that had Jake’s heart pounding as he pulled her from the table and kissed her deeply before quietly leading her up the stairs and down the hall. He pressed her against the door of his bedroom, his thigh between her legs and her lips against his throat. “Come on baby,” He whispered. “Let me make you feel good.” And with that he pushed his door open and the two stumbled into his childhood bedroom and with a click, locked the door behind them.

It was nearly 5:30 in the morning as the lovers laid in each other's arms, fingers trace patterns over the other’s skin. Jake’s mom would be getting up soon to start Christmas breakfast. His mind reeled with thoughts, a carousel of anxiety, of leaving Bambi, of breaking her heart, breaking his own. Thoughts of his mother’s smirk if his sister’s best friend bound down the stairs with his hand in hers still smelling of sex. His mind filled with thoughts of run, and run, and run. So he ran.

Pulling his arm from around Bambi Jake moved to sit on the edge of the bed, his back to her. “You should probably get going before everyone gets up.”

She sighed before throwing the covers off and throwing her own legs over the side of the bed. “Yeah, I’d hate to have Mama Seresin see me do the walk of shame. She’d probably start planning the wedding before I made it to the end of the driveway.” She laughed as she gathered her dress and undergarments from the night before, slipping them on with little effort. She felt lighter, tension gone from her shoulders and a permanent smile plastered to her face.

“Bambi, last night, it-“ Jake started but Bambi cut him off, leaning in close for a kiss.

“Was great? I sure thought so.” She said, attempting to finish the sentence in a way he hadn’t meant to.

Jake pulled away, his eyes trained directly to his feet as he spoke. “It shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry.”

Silence again filled the space between them, the inches beginning to feel like a cavern as she pulled further away from him. She didn’t recognize her movements as she walked to his door, her fingers wrapping around the cool metel of the handle. With a deep breath she let the truth fall into the chasm between them. “I lied last night, when I told you it didn’t mean anything? It meant everything.” 

She stood there, hand on the knob hoping her words had changed something but Jake didn’t even move “I’m sorry Bambi. I wish-“ He sighed and his head dropped into his hands. “You deserve more than this, more than a single night.”

Bambi nodded and turned the handle. “Merry Christmas Jake.” 

Her words were quick though even with the speed he could hear the crack in her voice. His door was shut tight before he responded. “Merry Christmas Bambi.” And only when he heard the front door shut and the turning over of her car did he reveal his own truth.

 “I love you.”

[goosewithtwoos]

SLUMBER PARTY

Pairing: Bob x Reader

Summary: Phoenix left some aphrodisiac brownies at your house - you accidentally eat one

DISCLAIMER: yeah i got no fwicking clue how aphrodisiacs work so this is more of a crack post than anything don’t take it too seriously

“You brought brownies!” You squeal, running up to hug your best friend.

Phoenix was carrying a small box of brownies that were perfectly decorated with powdered sugar. Your mouth was watering just looking at them.

“Hands off!” She cries, holding them over her head. “It’s a gift for someone. I’m going to a bachelorette party later.”

You pout. “Not even one?”

“Not even one.”

The two of you head inside, catching up on things and discussing plans for your next official leave. You were trying to schedule a trip with everyone down to Sanibel island off the coast of Florida but Hangman was being difficult and said the time he’d spent in Pensacola had been enough to last a lifetime.

You helped Phoenix get ready for the party, doing her makeup for her. Having grown up with four older brothers, Phoenix had never had time to play with makeup. You didn’t mind - in fact, you loved doing makeup for other people.

After about 45 minutes, a phone rang. Phoenix picks hers up only to find that it was your phone that was ringing.

You grab it off the vanity and check the caller ID.

Bob.

You show your phone to Phoenix who grins wildly. She’s known about your crush on her WSO ever since she had introduced you.

“Hello?” You ask tentatively. It was rare that he’d call you. Typically, he’d call someone else and ask them to ask you something.

“Hey, uh, sorry this is weird for me to call. I was just wondering -“

Your heart was beating out of your chest. You looked at Phoenix, silently pleading with her for help.

‘Put him on speaker’ She mouths. You quickly do so, holding your breath lest he notices the change.

“I have your credit card. You left it at the Hard Deck last night and Penny gave it to me. I was wondering when would be a good time to drop it off?”

‘Right now!’ Phoenix mouths.

‘Right now?’ You mouth back, looking at the state of your room and yourself in the mirror. She nods frantically, turning around and quickly reorganizing your things back into the drawers.

“Umm…well I’m home right now if you wanted to bring it over.” You hoped you came across at least slightly suave instead of a panicking mess.

“Oh!” Bob sounded caught off guard. “Yeah, I can do that. Do you want me to leave it in your mailbox?”

Phoenix whips her head around. ‘No!’

“No? I mean, no! I’ve uh…been having a lot of mail theft recently. You can never been too careful.”

Bob hummed. “Mail theft is a huge deal. You should report it. I remember my sister had a problem with that for a while too.”

Bless. his. heart.

“Yeah…” Your voice died off, trying to figure out if this actually was real life or simply some dream. Bob was coming over. Your heart fluttered at the idea. “So! Um, when should I expect you?”

“Maybe like 30 minutes? I just left the PX and rush hour is kinda crazy at this time of day.”

Phoenix was grinning wickedly. She gave you two thumbs up and the look in her eyes told you that maybe this wasn’t a terrible idea.

You made a noise of agreeance in the back of your throat. “Sounds perfect.”

The next 30 minutes of your life we’re some of the most stress inducing you’d ever faced. You wanted everything to be perfect. Phoenix had high tailed it out of there, nearly forgetting her purse, and you sped cleaned the whole house like the president was coming to visit.

Sure, he was probably just going to come to the door, drop off your card, and leave but the small glimmer of hope you held made you clean. Maybe this time you’d actually have the balls to ask him to come inside.

A soft knock at your door announced his arrival. You scrambled from the couch, brushing down your shirt and fixing your hair before answering the door.

“Hey!” He choked out, taking in your figure. Your flight suit was pretty conservative along with you cammies. It was a rare occasion for him to see you in your civilian clothes. “This is for you.”

You took the card from him, careful to not accidentally brush his hand with yours.

“Thank you so much, I don’t know how I could have forgotten this.” You quickly shove the card into your back pocket for safe keeping.

He quickly shoved his hands in his front pocket and shrugged. “Happens to the best of us.”

You nodded, unsure of what to say and didn’t trust yourself to not randomly blurt out an ‘I love you’, so you settled for an awkward silence.

After you both had stared at each other for far too long, he gave you a quick nod and started to pivot away. “Well, guess I’ll see you back at in on Monday.”

Damn it, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You were supposed to invite him in and talk and maybe watch a movie and hold hands a little. Not have him walk away after less than a minute on your doorstep.

“Do you wanna come in?” You blurt out, surprising not only him but also yourself. “I have to give you something as an appreciation. I probably have a beer or something.” Fucking dumbass.

He turned back towards you, removing his hands from his pockets.

“I won’t take a beer but I will take a water.”

You stepped out of the doorframe allowing room for him to enter. “I do in fact also have water.”

He entered and then followed as you walked to the kitchen. It was small but good enough to make borderline decent meals. You weren’t much of a chef anyways and ate at the chow hall more than you’d care to admit.

“Do you want ice and a glass or just a bottle?” You ask, turning to the cupboard.

“Just a glass, no ice.” He said, taking in your decor.

This wasn’t a permanent lodging, just for the time you’re stationed here, but you still liked to decorate a little bit. Felt more like something you could call home.

You poured a glass and handed it to him, brushing his fingers as you did.

Your heart picked up from the slight touch and you cursed yourself for being such a child. You were a Naval aviator, you should be able to touch someone without having your mind go completely blank. Yet alas. Your mind was gone the moment his fingers touched yours.

He took a sip, then motioned with his chin to a tupperware sitting on the counter. “You just make those?”

You tilted your head, confused on how the hell a tupperware ended up on your counter. You went to inspect it only to find they were the brownies Phoenix had brought over for the bachelorette party. She must have forgotten them in her hurry to leave.

“Uh, these actually aren’t even mine.” You admit, wondering if it would be worth calling her back for them or not. She’d probably already be there by now. Guess if she really wanted them she would have called and asked. “Phoenix made them. She stopped by earlier and I guess she left them.”

His shoulders slumped a little bit at the news.

“But it doesn’t seem like she’s gonna come back for them any time soon and it would be a real shame to waste them.” You quickly follow up. The look on his face was worth it. You didn’t really want a brownie but you knew he wouldn’t eat one if you didn’t.

You pulled two paper towels and grabbed a brownie for the both of you, handing one to him and smelling yours. God, it smelled so good. Were these really made by Phoenix? They smelled like they were made by chocolatiers from some fancy Paris bakery.

“To Bob, for returning my card.” You said as a mock toast. He raised his brownie in turn before you took a bite in tandem.

Holy shit - they tasted even better than they smelled.

You quickly finished yours before grabbing a glass of water for yourself.

Bob stayed for a while, chatting in your kitchen about everything and anything. The conversation was completely normal so it was surprising when you felt the intense need to get off.

Your heart rate picked up rapidly and you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second. Your replies slowly turned from interesting, full and comprehensive sentences, to a mix of ‘mhm’ and ‘oh yeah’. God, why couldn’t you get control of yourself?

“Do you wanna go sit down?” You gasp out, fingers gripping the cup for dear life.

“Yeah, good idea.” Bob was looking much more pale than usual but you chocked that up to your terrible lighting and white countertops.

The two of you sat in the living area, a far enough distance from each other on the couch to make it awkward. You pulled your knees to your chest, hoping that the squeezing of your thighs would be able to help alleviate some of the feeling.

What was happening? You typically had self control but this was excessive. God, you needed a cold shower.

“So - uh - how’s your sister?” You also, trying to think of the least sexy topic.

“Good.” His reply was short and quick. His chest was heaving slightly, looking like he had just run a mile. Was he feeling the same thing you were? His composure seemed to be dissolving just like yours. “Sorry, I’m just a little bit warm. Do you mind if I take this off?” He gestured to his sweater, lightly tugging at the bottom.

You screamed internally. “Of course.” Fuck, once he mentioned heat, your whole body exploded and you needed to take a polar plunge.

Even once his sweater was off, he kept readjusting.

“I’ll turn a fan on.” The moment you stood, you knew something was really wrong. Your legs were like jello. Your heart was racing as your body ached with desperation.

The fan did little to help you cool off and the feeling was simply just getting worse. You had been talking about something, taxes maybe? Something that should have been a complete turn off but Bob was looking at you like he wanted to ravish you.

Your voice trailed off when you realized he wasn’t even paying attention to what you were saying and you couldn’t even remember where your sentence had died off.

“I’m so sorry, I promise I’m trying to listen, I don’t…” He was audibly panting, adjusting his collar. “Fuck, can I kiss you?”

The heat between your thighs was like nothing you’d ever felt before. “Mhm.” You manage to nod, trying desperately to not go insane. You needed his hands on you, like, yesterday.

In an instant, he pulled you into a lip bruising kiss, bucking his hips the moment you straddled him. He was so hard already, you were surprised by how needy he was before anything had even happened.

You kissed like the world was going to end. Like you needed each other like some sort of drug.

His hands found your waist, massaging your sides. You couldn’t help but grind your hips down on his, relishing the sounds he made. When his fingers slipped under your shirt, cold hands touching your warm skin, you gasped into his mouth.

“I need you so bad.” He whined.

“Say it again.” The pounding in your chest increased rapidly at his admission.

“I - I need you. Oh my God.” He cried as you bit down on the soft spot beneath his ear. “You can’t keep doing that.”

You smirk, dragging your tongue along the sensitive spot. “This?”

His whole body shook as he pulled you down tighter against him. “Y-yeah, that.” You couldn’t tell if the movement of your hips was your doing or his strong hands, pushing and pulling you back and forth.

“Can I take your shirt off?” He begs.

“God, yes, please.” You reply. His hands quickly pulled your t-shirt up and over, throwing it somewhere across the room.

Seeing your chest turned him feral. In an instant, his eyes darkened and all inhibition was gone.

“Jesus Christ.” He mutters, cupping your chest through your bra and squeezing. “I could die in between these.”

“Fuck me first.” You pant. You felt like your whole body was on fire. You needed friction, for him to touch you, anything.

He leaned forward and licked from the center of your chest slowly up your neck. You’d never had anyone else do anything like that but it was hot all the same. A strong hand lightly gripped your throat, pressing down enough to feel something but not enough to cut off any blood flow.

“God, you’re gorgeous. Could keep you on my lap forever.” He growls.

Something about the possessiveness made your mind short circuit.

“Robert.” You moan, pressing yourself down again. Every nerve was on fire. You were on fire. You were going to burn and you were going to burn with him.

“I got you, honey.” His southern drawl slowly making its way into his speech. You’d always been interested in saving a horse and riding a cowboy, and now seemed like a good time to try it.

You smashed your mouths back together and began pawing at the bottom of his shirt. You wanted it off but you didn’t want to peel yourself away from him.

He made quick work of the buttons on your shorts, pulling down the zipper and pressing two fingers against you. It felt so good - too good - and you needed him now.

"Please, please, please." You were begging a man, and you couldn't care less.

“I got you baby, you don’t need to beg. I’ll give it to you. Fuck, gonna give it to you so good.” His fingers were inside you, working you open, thumb pressing against your clit.

You threw your head back, groaning in agony and pleasure as he presses against your g-spot.

“Gorgeous, so fucking gorgeous,” he mumbles more to himself than anyone else. You were riding his fingers like a pro, swiveling your hips and grinding down like you’d done it a hundred times before.

“I need…I need you in me.” You moan out.

“I am in you.” He teases, biting down on your shoulder.

This cocky little son of a - “Robert Jameson Floyd.” You whine again. You’d never been reduced to whining and begging before but suddenly, it was the only thing you could do.

He groans when you call him by his full name. His fingers pull out, tapping your folds a few times before being pulled from your shorts completely. He lifts them and - damn him - sticks them into his mouth, acting as if it was the most delicious thing he’d had all week. “You need to take these off.”

Brilliant idea.

You stand, quickly removing your shorts and panties in a fluid move. He unbuckles his jeans and pushes them down. His boxers came off almost immediately afterwards and your eyes went wide.

You’d known he was pretty. Hell, he was probably the prettiest man you’d ever seen, but you didn’t realize that every inch of him was going to be pretty. And big.

You swallow, eyes flicking up to meet his. He was panting, looking at you and you realized you didn’t feel self conscious at all. You felt good, safe, and sexy. You’d probably ask to marry him if he could fuck you as good as he was saying he could.

“How’d you want this?” He asks.

“You’re from Texas, right?” You ask and he nods. “I’ve always been interested in saving horses.”

He throws his head back, laughing. “If it weren’t you standing naked in front of me right now, I’d be getting up and leaving. That was the worst thing I’ve ever heard. Get over here.”

You suppress a laugh, sitting back down on his lap, feeling him hard as a rock underneath you. "Your shirts coming off." You say, pulling at it.

He removes his glasses, shaking his head lightly, tousling his hair even more than your hands had. With or without his glasses, he made it hard to breathe. When he removes his shirt, you were sure he'd knocked the wind out of you entirely.

Your mind couldn't think of anything to say so you opted for leaning down and capturing him into another kiss. His large hands wrap around your side, kneading the flesh beneath. You had began rocking your hips back and forth without even realizing it until his hand stopped you.

"I want to get inside you before I come from just this." He admits, resting his forehead against yours.

You nod, still unable to form coherent thoughts. "Yeah, yeah that's a good idea."

You lift your hips as he lines himself up. Much to your pleasure, he didn't force you down and allowed for you to go at your own pace. It had been a while and you were tight. He hisses through his teeth as you sink down.

"Fit inside me so good." You tell him. He throws his head back, letting out a low moan. You were glad he wasn't the type of man who tried to silence himself. He sounded so beautiful. "Could stay here forever."

"Fuck me first." He says, bucking his hips ever so slightly, echoing your words from earlier.

Who were you to decline such a polite request?

You lift yourself up, enjoying how his eyes immediately snap down to watch where you're connected. The grip on your hips tightens as you go back down.

It felt like your senses were heightened. Every inch of him was sending flames through you. Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest and Bob looked no better.

He was watching intensely as you moved, mouth ajar. You press your hands against his chest and lean forward ever so slightly. The change of angles makes you see stars.

"Oh my God." You cry out. He felt impossibly deep and so, so good.

"Feels better than I ever thought possible." He groans. "Just like you were made for me."

"Thought about this before?" You tease, spelling your name with your hips. What size ring was he?

Bob's hand leaves your waist and trails down to your clit. "Often." With a light pinch, you're doubling over, crying out with a mix of broken moans and his name.

"You're gonna make me come fast if you keep doing that." You warn him. As much as you wanted to come, the thought of this being over made you want to hold off as long as possible.

He pinches again. "I'm no better, darlin. Come whenever, I'll be right behind you." The feeling of him inside you was making you crazy. You were losing your mind and felt entirely content with it. "Fuck, keep doing that."

Your orgasm was rapidly approaching. You'd never come this quickly before and it would be embarrassing if Bob weren't so stunningly handsome and crying out just as much as you were. Sweat was beading on his forehead, causing his baby hairs to stick down.

You run your hand across his head, moving both the hairs and his head back. He looks at you, all fucked out, and the sight alone is perfect shower head masturbation material for the next few months.

"You're so beautiful." He says, his eyes glazed over, like he couldn't believe that you were real. "Can't believe this is real."

You moan in agreeance. This was beyond your wildest dreams. You would have never imagined this as a possible scenario for how the day would go. Part of you began to worry this was all a dream and you'd wake up to find your credit card was in your wallet the whole time.

He shifted and your world exploded. He was deeper than you ever thought possible. God, it felt so good. So, so good. Too good.

"Robert, I'm gonna come." You cry out, gripping his shoulders like a vice. His lips wrap around your chest, sucking and biting down, the harsh breath feeling like Heaven and Hell all at the same time, before he roughly pulls back.

"You gotta get up before I come inside you." He warns, the grip on your hips loosening.

You force your hips back down, tightening your thighs around him. "I'm on the pill, I wanna feel you. Give it to me, please?" You asked it so innocently but your words were filthy.

"Yeah?" He breathes out. "Want me to come inside you? Fill you up?" You clench around him. "You like that, huh? Like the idea of me marking you as mine. Tell me you want it."

"I want it, I want it." You chant. "Please give it to me. Need to feel you inside me."

He takes your other breast into his mouth, bouncing you with more urgency. "Gonna fill you up so good." You hear him mumble around you.

He pinches your clit and you're a goner. Your orgasm rips through you and you're coming harder than you've come before around him. You can tell you're saying something but your mind is so blank, you're not quite sure what it is.

"Holy fuck." He moans, hips stilling as you feel him come inside you.

You're both panting, resting foreheads against each other. You can feel him spilling out but make no effort to move. This was something you'd want to savor for as long as you lived. A size 10 ring would probably fit him nicely.

He presses a kiss to your cheek. His hands pull your hair from your face back into a makeshift pony tail from where it had been sticking to your neck with sweat before letting it fall. "You're amazing."

You laugh lightly, never having been told that after getting absolutely railed before. "I think that belongs to you. I've never had someone make me come that quickly before."

"Same." He agrees. He finds his glasses, putting them on and blinking rapidly to readjust his vision. "A goddess, for sure."

You laugh and swat at his chest. "A cowboy, for sure." He groans, rolling his head back.

“Oh, who the fuck is calling me right now?” You breathed out as your phone began ringing, pulling you from your lovely little bubble. Your heart dropped when you saw who it was. It was Phoenix. You didn't get off him, simply grabbing your phone from the table and answering “Hello?”

“Hey girl, I’m so sorry I just realized I left the brownies at your place! Don’t eat them okay? They’re for a prank.” Her voice was rushed as she got out every word.

“What do you mean ‘they’re for a prank’?”

“They’re aphrodisiac.”

Ah.

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Cowboy Resolutions

Summary: New Year’s Eve at the Hard Deck with all of your friends was a tradition, one that you loved and held close to your heart. When you and your husband decide to slip away from the crowd for a late night stroll on the beach right before midnight, you realize that neither of you had the purest of intentions when it came to wanting to get away. 

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 2.8K Warnings: Smut with a dash of fluff, including shenanigans in public. Language.

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You feel his arms wrap around you right before you hear his voice in your ear, low and husky and trying too hard to be sexy to actually be sexy. 

“Hey there darlin. How about we be naughty together and save Santa a trip next year?” 

You can’t help the snort you let out as you start laughing. Jake kisses your neck playfully before you turn in his arms to face him, chest pressed to his. You’re careful not to spill the drink you had just gotten. “If that’s how it works, I’m pretty sure we secured our spot on the naughty list on Christmas day a week ago, pretty boy.” 

He wags his eyebrows dramatically, drawing another giggle out of you. “I think you’re right, beautiful. Several times, if I remember correctly.”

“On that note, I’m going to play pool before I vomit everywhere.” 

You ignore Nat’s gag and loud proclamation; you don’t need to look at her to know that she rolled her eyes as she walked away from where the two of you had been chatting at the bar before your husband had interrupted. 

“Well they say you’re supposed to bring in the year the way you want to spend it,” you tell him, and he hums thoughtfully. 

“A year of amazing sex with my absolutely smokin’ wife? Screw the good list, where do I sign?” 

His voice gets lower the closer he brings his face to yours, and by the last word, you can feel him speak against your lips. You grin into it when he finally kisses you. Despite the fact that every regular in the bar should be used to seeing your public displays of affection after years of it, cat calls still ring out over the sound of chatter and the jukebox. You roll your eyes while you pull away, but Jake’s shameless smirk is enough to soften your smile. 

“Jealous fuckers,” he mutters, and you’ve gone through this enough to know he’s only joking. His eyebrows raise again and he lets his hand drift to slide over your butt, squeezing once through the material of your skirt. “Maybe we should really give them something to gawk out.” 

You laugh at his familiar antics and shake your head. “Down, Cowboy.”

But you know that Jake's playful nature, one that not many people get to see, is one of the things you love most about him. His ability to make even the simplest moments feel special and exciting is what keeps the flame alive in your relationship, even after all this time.  

“Aww, darlin. You’re no fun.” 

“Careful now,” you tell him, linking your fingers through his and starting to make your way through the crowd to where your friends have gathered by the pool tables. You grin at him playfully over your shoulder, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Or you won’t get any kisses at midnight.” 

The sound of Jake’s laughter was one of your favorite sounds in the whole world, and you let it surround you as you greet the group you considered family. New Year’s Eve at the Hard Deck was something you had done the last two years, and with this third occurrence, you thought it was a solidified tradition amongst you all. It’s nice, being able to have those now. You and Jake have moved around a handful of times in your relationship, never in one spot for long, but San Diego is somewhere you’re so glad to actually call home now. It’s something you were unbelievably grateful for - that, and these people who continuously brought so much joy into your life. 

As the night wears on, the bar becomes increasingly crowded and lively. The music thumps through the speakers, blending with the laughter and conversations that filled the air. It’s when Bradley unplugs the jukebox and settles in at the old, worn piano by the bar that your husband links his fingers through yours, tugging lightly. You look over at him to see him tilt his head toward the general direction of the back door. You smile lightly, knowing what he’s asking without him having to utter a word, and you nod. 

As you take a break from the crowded bar and step outside into the crisp night air, Jake wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. 

“Take a walk with me?” he asks, and you murmur your assent. You know that the heeled boots you’re wearing won’t mix well with the sand, so using him as an anchor, you bend to take them off. You sigh in relief once your toes hit the sand, feeling cool and refreshing through the barrier of your socks. 

“Lead the way,” you smile. 

The moon hangs low in the sky, casting an ethereal glow over the ocean.  He keeps you tucked into his side as you walk along the empty beach, the music and lights from the bar fading with every step. The chilly wind bites at your cheeks, but the warmth of the alcohol you had consumed and Jake's body keeps you cozy. If you weren’t always so in tune with his touch, you may have missed the way his hand progressively slid lower and lower on your back. 

“I feel like you didn’t have the purest intentions with this walk,” you murmur. A shiver runs through you that has nothing to do with the breeze and everything to do with the sound of his low, deep laughter. It rumbles through his chest, vibrating against your side. 

“Well, darlin’, you know me too well.” He leans down and presses a soft kiss to your temple. "Maybe I had a little ulterior motive," he admits, his voice laced with something.  “What do you say?” 

You giggle as he kisses down the side of your face, featherlight and intoxicating, and tugs lightly on your ear. “Here?” 

“No,” he says, “there.” 

He points, and through the darkness, you see the old lifeguard stand, unmanned this late at night, especially this far down the beach. His suggestion hangs in the air, thick with appeal and eagerness.

“Well,” you say after a brief moment of contemplation that really didn’t take long at all. You take a step away from him, your body automatically missing his warmth even as it thrummed with excitement. You shoot him a look that you know he recognizes by how his smile transforms. “I did say you should bring in the year the way you want to spend it, didn’t I?” 

You take off in a run at the same moment he reaches for you, and you squeal with laughter as he chases you right to where he pointed earlier - right to where you want him now. 

He presses you against the wooden structure once you both reach it, and without breaking stride, his lips are on yours. The kiss is slow and tantalizing at first, but soon enough, it deepens, and his tongue sweeps into your mouth in a familiar dance that leaves you breathless. He tastes like whiskey and the leftover mini candy canes you kept in your purse and your heart races. The sounds of the crashing waves and distant partying from the bar fade away as you sink into his embrace. You feel his other hand slide up your thigh, tracing slow circles on your skin. His touch is electric, making your body hum. Even the cool breeze nipping at your exposed skin isn’t enough to cool you down. 

As he pulls back, breathing heavily, you run your fingers through his hair, enjoying the softness of it between them. His breath comes out hot against your lips as he whispers, "I love how responsive you are to me."

His mouth descends upon yours again. His hand moves higher, cupping your breast through your sweater, his fingers teasing your nipple through the fabric. Your response is instantaneous; you arch your back and groan, completely caught up in the moment.  "How do you want it?" he asks, kisses trailing down your neck. You tilt your head to allow easier access to your throat. 

"Jake," you moan. You clutch at him, one hand in his hair and the other wrinkling the material of his flannel shirt. 

"Tell me, darlin'," he requests, commands, and you whimper as it's accompanied by a bite of your skin. "How do you want it? You want to climb up in the chair? Or you want me to take you right here against it?" 

It was hard to think with the way he was touching you and the feel of his lips on yours. But you suddenly had the undeniable urge to ride him. The added bonus of being elevated off the ground like you would be, all the while being safe in your husband’s arms, sent a chill of excitement through you. “Up,” you breathe, pushing him away just slightly. 

You’re both clumsy as you eagerly climb up onto the raised, wide seat. You hiss at the cold of the wood as your knees settle on either side of his thighs, but his touch distracts you immediately as he tugs your short skirt up to bunch at your waist, allowing you to sit on his lap more comfortably and without risk of stretching the material. You smirk for just a second before a groan tears from his throat when his fingers meets nothing but skin. 

“You forget to put something on, baby?” he husks, and you shake your head. You don’t even try to look innocent. 

“You weren’t the only one with ulterior motives, Cowboy.” 

Your hands move to his belt buckle, undoing it with practiced ease. He watches you intently as you move on to the button and zip of his jeans. He's hard under your hands and god, you want him. But you know you're not the only one. Jake groans, his hips thrusting instinctively into your touch. Your eyes flash to his and you see him biting his lip as he watches you intently, his green eyes dark with desire. You feel powerful like this, seeing the hunger there. 

You pull his erection from the denim keeping him confined. He's hard and thick, the head glistening with a bead of pre-cum. You can't resist running your hand over the smooth, velvety skin, stroking him gently. Jake's breath hitches, his eyes fluttering shut as you continue to stroke him. He keeps a hand steady on your back, ensuring your balance, but lets the other reach down between your legs. His touch brushes against your own as he goes, stroking through the liquid heat he finds. You moan softly as his fingers find their way inside you, matching the rhythm of your hand on him. His thumb swipes across your sensitive clit, sending a jolt of need through you. You gasp, your other hand pulling at the back of his head, drawing him closer. 

"Jake, please," you beg, arching into his touch. He pulls his hand away from you just long enough to position himself at your entrance. He drags his cock through your wetness, coating himself. He's hard and ready, and you can't wait any longer. "Please." 

He doesn't need any further encouragement as he slowly enters you, stretching you open in the best way. You cry out in pleasure, your head falling back as you feel him deep inside you. 

"God, you feel so good," he whispers, his breath ghosting over your skin. Like you want to prove to him that you can be even better, you lift yourself off of him slowly, sinking back down as he moans. "That's my girl." 

His muscles tense under your touch, urging you on, and you oblige without hesitation. His hands keep a firm grip on your waist as you set a steady rhythm. Your thighs burn deliciously from the exertion, but you don’t mind, leaning forward to capture his lips. It's a frenzied tangle of tongues and teeth, while his hips buck upward into yours. The feel of him inside you is exhilarating, driving you closer and closer to the edge. 

Your hands twine in his hair, pulling his head back just enough so you can look into his eyes. They're lust-filled and dark, mirroring the emotions swirling within you. 

"Harder," you pant. 

"Fuck, baby," he growls as he speeds up his pace. He thrusts into you harder, each hit sending ripples of pleasure through you. Your heart pounds against your ribcage as you press closer to him. He hits that spot inside of you that only he can reach and the stars that dot your vision aren't from the sky above you. 

"Yes, oh, fuck. Jake!" He finds it again and your muscles clench. "I'm going to come," you gasp, and Jake's answering groan lets you know that he's close, too. 

"Come for me, darlin'," he chants, his voice low and raspy, commanding you to give in to the feeling. 

His words send you over the edge, and your scream of his name is cut off with his mouth surging to meet yours - you had nearly forgotten that you were outside. Your orgasm ripples through you, your body trembling under the waves of pleasure. You feel him give one, two, three more thrusts before he’s falling over, too. His cum is hot as it fills you and you can’t help but moan into his kiss at the sensation - there was nothing quite like it.

He pulls back once breathing becomes an issue. You're both panting and breathless. He takes your face in his hands, the roughness of his fingertips a long-formed comfort. You just stare for a few moments, letting your heart rates settle. 

"Hell of a way to end the year," he finally murmurs, voice filled with warm affection. 

You can't pass up the opportunity he's given you considering the current circumstances, raising an eyebrow playfully. "With your cum inside of me?" 

He huffs out a laugh, but you feel his cock twitch inside of you nonetheless. “The best way to do it.” 

You hum in response and grab his wrist, twisting it to get a look at his watch. 11:52. 

"If we hurry we can probably make it back to the Hard Deck in time for midnight," you tell him, though you're in no rush to move. Jake shrugs a shoulder, and it's enough to tell you that he isn't, either. You smile at him softly, leaning forward for another kiss. After another minute or two, you gently disentangle yourself from each other. Jake tucks himself back into his pants as you pull your skirt down. The raised wooden structure is really not comfortable for either of you now that you weren't completely caught up in your lust. He climbs down from the chair first and keeps a protective hand on you as you make your way down after him. 

Instead of moving to walk back to the bar, though, you settle together in the sand. Your back is to his chest and his arms are wrapped firmly around you. His chin is tucked into your shoulder and you watch the waves gently lapping in the ocean as you sit in a peaceful, comforting silence. 

“Any resolutions this year?” he eventually asks. You feel his breath against your neck and goosebumps erupt over your skin. You hope you never stop reacting to him this way. 

“Hmmm. None yet. You?”

“Already did it,” he says nonchalantly. Your eyebrows furrow and your twist your neck to look at him. 

“What?”

His smirk grows and his green eyes twinkle with mischief. “Guarantee myself on the naughty list for Santa next year, obviously.” 

You smack his arm right as the fireworks start going off, and his laughter is masked by the sound. There are bursts of every color you could imagine appearing in the sky, and you let yourself get distracted by the display until your husband nudges you gently. 

When your eyes meet his this time, the look on his face is softer. It’s a look he only ever has for you, full of love and adoration, and despite how long you’ve been together, you feel butterflies erupt in your tummy as it washes over you. He tilts your chin up with a gentle hand. It’s the sweetest kiss you had exchanged all night, nothing more than a light brush of his lips against yours. Your nose brushes against his as, for a moment, you just breathe the other in. 

“Happy New Year, darlin’,” Jake finally whispers, and his words taste sweet against your lips. 

“Happy New Year, Jake.” 

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Notes: Happy (almost) New Year everyone! Finishing off the trifecta of holiday fics with The Blonde One™️ just felt right. Thanks for reading! Likes/comments/reblogs are the kindest.

Special thanks to @roosterforme and @mak-32 for all of their help as always, and for Mak for making the dreamiest banners.

Main Masterlist

[bradshawed]

Bradshaw Household Birthday Rules

summary — some rules are meant to be broken..

warnings/tags — no use of y/n, brief use of gendered terms “girl” and “boy”, pet names, kissing, implied smut, fluff, birthday things, no swearing, Bradley being a tease, bad baking descriptions, coffee i forgot about

note — missed writing sm, thought i’d ease back into it with my first sneaky implied smut drabble. feel free to flood my inbox with any requests and lmk if you’d like more of this. hope you enjoy x

word count — 0.4k words

“Didn’t take you for a baker Roo.”

Bradley softly padded towards where you leant against the doorframe, wrapping you in his arms and greeting you with a kiss, “Mornin’, honey”.

He softly tugged on his your shirt with a smirk before placing a gentle kiss to your neck and moving to pour you a cup of coffee, just how you liked it.

Trying to be sneaky, you crouched down to peek through the oven door. Before you could get a glimpse of what your gorgeous boyfriend was making so early in the morning, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you into the air and over his shoulder, before softly throwing you onto the couch.

“Sorry sweetheart, rules are rules, no peeking. Your pretty little butt has to stay glued to this couch.”

Your pout intensified, “And what rules might those be Bradshaw?”

“The Bradshaw Household Birthday Rules.”

“Mind telling me the rest of those rules handsome?”

Bradley knelt on the floor, his eyes in line with yours, “Hmmm well first, the birthday girl-”

“or boy.” You added, causing him to playfully narrow his eyes at you.

“Thank you honey, birthday girl or boy is confined to that couch, banned from doing any sort of activity that isn’t approved.”

His hands rested on your thighs, slowly inching upwards at your coy reply of “is that so?”

“Bradshaw house rules baby. You’re also not allowed to pay for anything on your birthday. Nuh uh- no complaints, let me spoil you. And that’s another one, no sad pouty faces on your birthday.” A flurry of kisses, everywhere but your lips, and your pout disappeared, “I need to see that gorgeous smile of yours at all times and hear your beautiful laugh.”

He was distracting you and he knew it, his fingers circling where you needed him most before disappearing. Two could play at that game.

“And what happens if I don’t follow your rules?”

“You know exactly what happens baby.”

You stood up from the couch, running your fingers through his curls as you walked around Bradley’s crouched form towards the kitchen, “Do I?”

He swung you back around with darkened eyes, pulling on the cotton of your shirt before slotting his leg between yours. The breathless kiss broken by the beep of the oven, the cake forgotten where it lay haphazardly on the rack.. it needed time to cool anyway.

[bobfloydsbabe]

"ask me to stop and I will" screams eccentric professor Bob and Imogene but that's just me (I do miss them)

IT DOES. I miss them too, so let's check in, shall we?

strictly 18+/minors dni.

"Ask me to stop and I will."

He doesn’t want to. He wants his hands to remain on her, feeling her smooth skin under his fingertip as her breath hitches, begging for more. Hands resting on his shoulders, her big doe eyes focus on him.

She shakes her head. “Don’t stop.”

The corner of his mouth turns up as his fingers trail up her thighs and disappear under the hem of her skirt. He expects to find the edge of panties, but there’s no resistance. No extra fabric separating his hands from her ass. The discovery elicits a groan from deep in his throat, making him press himself harder against her, seeking friction for his achingly hard cock.

His voice is but a strained whisper. “Forget something?”

He peers down at her, finding her cheeks flushed and a look of innocence on her face, as if she doesn’t know exactly what she’s doing to him. She’s a minx, and she’s his.

“I don’t think so,” she mutters. His fingers wander from her plumb ass, now tracing patterns on the inside of her thighs, teetering on the edge of where he knows she wants him the most. She’s unable to stifle a needy whine.

“I think something’s missing.”

“Huh,” she mutters. She doesn’t sound as nonchalant as she tries to. Bob has her right where he wants her, but her next words let him know two can play this game. “Mind checking, Professor?”

She knows calling him that drives him wild, and it’s that word that has him throwing caution to the wind. His knuckle grazes her wet and inviting cunt, and they both know there’s no stopping now.

He has to have her. It’s life or death.

BYEEEE I MADE MYSELF HORNY WRITING THIS

[bradshawsweetheart]

Baby Come Close | college!Bradley Bradshaw x virgin!Reader |

turn the lights down low, baby come close

put your trust in me, let this love be

SUMMARY: On the last night of spring break of junior year at UVA, you decided that this was the perfect time to lose your virginity to none other than Bradley Bradshaw. WORD COUNT: ~4.9k WARNINGS: THIS BLOG IS 18+ SO JUST ASSUME ANYTHING GOES. MINORS DNI. this is just pure smut. barely a plot. p in v. corruption kink if you squint. praise kink if you squint more. fluff. swears. no use of y/n. A/N: this is my first time writing publicly, especially smut, in a very long time, and my first fic for TGM! I’m so nervous to post this, please be gentle :')

It was the last day of spring break, and the college town of Charlottesville, Virginia was a bit quieter than usual, due to most of its population being who knows where doing who knows what with their time off. Your parents were out of town in Boston, but you much rather would have spent time with Bradley at his apartment than go back to your empty childhood home anyway, exchanging pleasantries with former high school classmates who you would undoubtedly run into in public. You and Bradley, instead, decided that spring break would be much better spent in the privacy of his empty dwelling, partaking in day trips to Virginia Beach in his Bronco and a staycation of movie-watching-turned-heated-groping sessions… And maybe even more if you decided to finally take it there. What better time than tonight, before the first day of the final stretch of junior year at the University of Virginia?

“What did he say?” Bradley whispered, snapping you out of your thoughts. Usually, the two of you would try to watch the movie until around the thirty-minute mark, and then one wandering hand or a lingering kiss later and it would be completely ignored. For you, however, tonight’s movie was long forgotten the moment he had turned it on.

“Hm? Oh, I didn’t hear him. Sorry…” You smiled at him sheepishly.

“You good, angel?” He cocked his eyebrow as he turned to face you. The warm amber of his irises bore into your face with adoration and slight concern. “You’re not thinking about breaking up with me, are you?” He feigned worry, clutching over his heart. You swatted his arm playfully with an eye roll.

“I’m just a little thirsty… Do you want anything from the kitchen?” You offered, feeling a little silly as he simultaneously took a swig from his bottle of beer. He pretended to think for a moment.

“Yeah, get me a glass of you.” He grinned, leaning down to catch your lips in his, stifling your giggle as you cringed with an exaggerated scoff at his cheesy remark. Bradley Bradshaw, dad joke supreme.

“On second thought, maybe I’ll decide to break up with you when I get back, Dadshaw.” You teased, pushing his curls from his forehead, earning you a perfect pout from his plump lips to which you gave a lingering kiss. There it was.

If you were being honest with yourself, you were growing restless with the over-the-clothes grope sessions that regularly took place the last few months. While they were exciting and enjoyable, there was a particular itch that you just couldn’t scratch, even on your own. Your thoughts would drift to him at night as you imagined what being with him would be like, and any time your unskilled fingers fumbled to bring an unfamiliar feeling to that place deep inside you, you would immediately withdraw your hand. The longer things continued on like this, the antsier you were getting and if Bradley was feeling the same way, you would have been none the wiser. He was aware of your predicament and he, ever the gentleman, always let you set the pace and never asked anything of you that you were not comfortable with. His mother raised him better than being any other way. “I promise I’m not some bible-thumping prude.” You would promise him from time to time during these exchanges. He never asked you for your reasoning, but he knew it was just a matter of trust. He would just simply smile and assure you there was no rush, that he would never pressure you to go further than you wanted.

In truth, however, the idea of being your first anything excited him. He felt a little guilty for having that thought in the first place but he couldn’t help it. Any time he tried to get any information from you about what you had done before, just out of sheer curiosity, you would quickly skirt around the subject and bring up anything else. He would never press you on the matter, but he could tell when you were hesitant and very intentional with your movements during impromptu make out sessions behind the bookshelves in the library during study breaks. But he also noticed when something changed inside of you: the time he pulled you into the office of the professor he was TA-ing for when they were out for a few days. When he decided to be spontaneous and clear the professor’s desk of clutter to push you onto the surface, you didn’t exasperatedly scold him or get flushed and embarrassed like you normally would. You simply continued on, pulling him into you, your kisses and touches… hungrier, but he continued to let you set the pace, and while it didn’t go much further, he could feel the desperation growing there with you. That was a week ago, right before midterms, and neither of you had talked about it since.

He tilted his head at you as you winked and sauntered away, making your way out of his room and down the hall toward the kitchen. After nervously gulping down half of the water in your glass in an attempt to slow your heart rate, you stepped into the bathroom off the side of the galley. You gripped either side of the sink as you bent over the counter to face yourself in the mirror, inhaling deeply before letting out a shaky breath. “You can do this. It’s not a big deal. Everyone has done it… Just not you,” you furrowed your brow at your failed pep talk. You had been in your head about this for a couple months, and especially all week as he made a habit of sweetly coaxing you into staying over every night of spring break with him to cuddle every time you would start gathering your belongings to leave. You worried that you wouldn’t be nearly as good as the other women Bradley had already been with, and you often wondered why he was even waiting around with you in the first place, especially when other girls on campus would throw themselves at him had they been given the chance. You had even brought this up to him a couple times before, how he was wasting formative college experience time with you, which was always met with, “Baby, I don’t want anyone else,” or, “Sex isn’t the only important thing in the world.” Sure, not the only thing, but surely still pretty important to someone like Bradley Bradshaw.

“No, you’re not backing out of it. Get it over with. Everything will only get easier from here on out.” You told your reflection definitively. You reached up under your skirt, hooking your panties with your thumbs before tugging them down your legs. You had hoped this bold of a move would spur you on to go through with this, either by your own actions or even by Bradley discovering you bare, as you knew he would often absentmindedly run his thumb against the underwear lines at your hip when he cuddled you. After giving yourself one last look-over in the mirror, you took a deep breath before turning off the light and exiting the bathroom.

Bradley snapped his head up when you reentered his bedroom, giving you a cheeky grin. “Are you back to break up with me, angel?” He has no idea what he’s in for tonight, you thought, but then quickly humbled yourself by the fact that, well, neither did you.You sauntered over to turn off the television with the remote before tossing it away to his textbook-ridden desk. The sudden silence and the way he was looking at you was making you lose your nerve, so you walked over to his stereo to pop one of his CDs in the player, Smokey Robinson’s Smokey, pressing the repeat button and then skipping until the player display read the number 9. Baby Come Close started softly through the speakers, and you remembered the first time he had you listen to it with him.

“This right here… is lovemaking music,” he proclaimed, wiggling his eyebrows at you, only half-joking. Your eyes widened as you playfully swatted his arm, causing him to bellow with laughter. “But make no mistake, it sounds so much better on vinyl.”

“Then why aren’t we listening to it on vinyl?” You teased, prodding his chest with your finger.

“The thought of keeping my collection here with me at school when I live with these idiots makes me shudder, honey. Get real.”

Bradley’s expression was puzzled as you crawled across the bed to straddle his lap, cupping his face and running your thumbs over his smooth skin. He beamed at you nonetheless. “What are you –” You cut him off by gently tilting his chin upward and placing a slow, sensual kiss on his lips. Your lips moved perfectly in sync as he sat up a little straighter, placing his hands on your hips. You shakily reached for one of his hands before setting your discarded lace panties in his palm. He pulled away to look at the delicate fabric and blinked a few times before slowly sliding his other hand under your skirt to grip your bare behind. He softly drew a circle on the skin there with his thumb. His touch felt like static and left goosebumps in its wake, making you shiver. It suddenly clicked in Bradley’s mind as he remembered what he told you about this song, it made his chest constrict. You nervously bit your lip as you watched him short circuit in real time. Bradley took pause as he met your eyes, full of both lust and uncertainty. “Are you saying…”

“I’ve been wondering what it feels like, how you feel, for a while,” you admitted softly, fidgeting with the hem of your skirt. Bradley swallowed hard, his heartbeat in his ears as he hung on every word you said. Your gaze shifted to focus on your hands as you nervously stated, “I don’t want to wait any longer, Bradley. I think I’m ready.” Your eyes fluttered closed as he hesitantly caught your lips again. He grinned into the kiss and pushed your shirt up slightly to rub his calloused thumbs along the soft skin of your waist. You sighed into his mouth as your lips parted, which Bradley took advantage of by sliding his tongue to massage against yours in your mouth.

“We’ll take it slow. I’ll take care of you,” He promised after a long moment with a heavy breath, slowly inching a hand further up your tee to palm your breast and pinching your nipple through your bra, enough for your breath to catch in your throat. “Is this okay?” His eyes snapped to yours expectantly, and he smiled softly when you nodded. Bradley pulled your shirt upward over your head and tossed the material to the floor. He took a moment to marvel at the lacey red bra that matched the underwear in his hand before attaching his lips to your neck and flinging your panties aside. You sighed, bringing your arms up loosely around the back of his neck to run your fingers through the curls at his nape. He raised a hand to cradle your jaw, his thumb gently nudging it to angle your chin to give him more access, and his other expertly sliding up your back to unhook your bra with ease. You sighed in relief as the restrictive material fell down your arms and tried to fight the bashful feeling that washed over you. You felt your face flush as you realized Bradley was the first person to see you this way, all hot and flushed on top of him. He blinked as he took in the sight of your bare chest. “Absolutely perfect, angel.”

You experimentally ground your hips down onto his and the friction of his denim jeans against your bare core made you whimper. You could feel his hard cock through the stiff material separating you, and you desperately wanted more. Your shaky hands fumbled with the button of his pants as you kissed down his jaw and along his neck, placing hot, lingering kisses on the somewhat-fresh scars that stretched across his skin. He chuckled softly, placing his hands over yours to steady them as he guided the button out of the loop.

“Relax, baby. We can take it nice and slow,” Bradley reassured you before lifting you from him to shimmy out of his jeans. But before you could touch him again, he wrapped his arms around your waist and flipped you over, gently placing you underneath him. He rubbed your sides as he shifted his weight on top of you, pushing you into the plush of his mattress. He supported himself on his forearm as mouth latched onto your right nipple, his free hand massaging your other breast. You moaned softly, you felt him smile against your soft skin. Bradley’s tongue swirled around the bud, and he released it with a pop before moving to the left one. When you arched your back, instinctively pushing up against his mouth, he groaned, His hand wandered to your thighs, rubbing them each for a while before slipping between them when you opened them slightly. He nudged your thigh to open wider with his knee. “Am I going too fast?” He asked, stopping his mouth on your skin to look up at you. You shook your head with a nervous smile and he placed a kiss on your sternum. “Tell me what you like.”

“I — I don’t know.” He furrowed his eyebrows at this confession.

“Show me how you do it when you touch yourself,” He requested, and stopped his movements when you opened your mouth to speak… and then closed it. “You’ve never touched yourself?”

“I have! Well, kind of. I either got bored, or whenever I felt anything building I just… stopped.”

“So… You’ve never came before, even on your own?” He prodded delicately, and you sheepishly shook your head. Bradley suppressed the moan at the back of his throat. He wet his lips with his tongue. “Oh, honey. I can’t believe you’re this innocent,” he said more to himself than to you, which made you feel a bit self-conscious. He noticed you tense. “No, baby, no, that isn’t what I mean. You’ve just been so… I never would have guessed.”

“I would understand if you didn’t want to keep going.” You offered, shifting uncomfortably. Bradley’s expression turned incredulous as he rapidly shook his head.

“No way is that deterring me from you. How about we find out what feels good together, okay?” You nodded and let out a shaky breath as his middle finger slowly slid through your slick and ghosted over your clit. An unexpected sound squeaked from your chest and you flushed when he met your eyes. “Soaked already. Is this all for me?” He shot you a lopsided grin, and smirked when you whimpered and nodded. You bucked your hips against his hand, a silent plea for any type of friction, and he obliged by rubbing your bundle of nerves in slow circles. This felt so much beyond anything you could have possibly done on your own, the unanticipated movements of his touches. You felt like your body was on fire.

“Bradley,” you pleaded, your legs starting to scramble. He held your hips down with one hand and slid his middle finger into you with the other, wordlessly obliging, slowly pumping it a few times before curling it upward and hitting a spot that had you arching your back and letting out a sharp gasp. “Oh!”

“How’s that?” He asked smugly, chuckling slightly as you could do nothing but dumbly nod and blink up at him, not exactly answering his question but it was definitely an answer all the same. He watches you with an amused grin as he repeated the motion with his skilled digit, eliciting a strangled moan from somewhere deep in your sternum.

The rumors you always heard about him before you got together were true, he certainly had magic fingers. The sounds he was pulling for you made him thank the high heavens that he had ears, and that his roommates had left town for the week. He kissed down your stomach and your breath hitched as he continued down, down, down. Bradley raised his eyes to meet yours, immediately softening at your slightly panicked expression. “May I?”

“I… Yes.”

“If you don’t like it, we can move on,” He beamed his reassurance at you earnestly. “But I promise I’m going to do everything I can to make you feel so good, baby.” He teasingly kissed along the outside of your thighs, chuckling when you squirmed, desperate for any kind of contact. Suddenly, feeling his hot breath against your core, he placed a slow, delicate kiss against you before spreading you with his fingers, then licking a thick stripe upward.

“Oh, my fucking –” Bradley attached his lips to your clit, alternating between licking and sucking. You could feel yourself getting impossibly wetter. His tongue dipped down to your weeping hole, teasingly plunging into you every so often. You didn’t know what to do with your hands as they scrambled to find purchase in the sheets. He guided one of your hands to his hair, your other following suit, and when your fingers tangled into his tresses, he groaned at the tug.

“You taste so good, honey,” Bradley breathed, and his voice was so raspy and full of lust it caused you to buck your hips slightly against his mouth. The comment made your cheeks heat up, almost embarrassed. He hummed against you, the vibrations adding to the immense pleasure he was already giving you. He pulled his mouth away and brought up two digits two your wetness, slowly teasing your entrance, making you whimper pathetically. “I love the little sounds that you make when I’m teasing you.” It was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. He pushed his fingers into you slowly, allowing you time to adjust to the slightly uncomfortable stretch, before curling upward against your walls and moving them into you at a steady pace. You felt that unfamiliar feeling start to rise in your stomach and your legs began to shake.

“Bradley – I can’t – I think I’m gonna –”

“Come for me, baby,” He growled against you, harshly sucking your clit as his fingers sped up a bit. You cried out in complete ecstasy as you came undone under him, tugging his face impossibly closer into your core. He rutted his hips into the mattress as he watched you, desperate for friction, and continued to work you through it. You would have felt embarrassed about the way you convulsed if you hadn’t heard through the cotton filling your head, “Holy shit, you’re so fucking hot.” As you came down from your high, you hissed from the overstimulation as he kept at you. You pushed his head back involuntarily and he chuckled before kissing the inside of your thigh apologetically. You tried to take a moment to catch your breath as he continued to kiss your thighs and around your heat. “Was that alright?”

You heaved a laugh at the question, you felt him grinning against your belly. “Something like that,” you quipped, meeting his eyes. He looked so in love, just watching your already fucked out expression as you tried to find your way back down to Earth. You ran your fingers through his hair, he pressed his cheek into your thigh. “I want that all the time.”

“I am so, so happy to oblige.” He suggested, experimentally going back down to kitten lick at your soaked cunt. You giggled, shaking your head.

“I wanna touch you too,” you stated breathlessly. Bradley cocked an eyebrow at you as you sat up and pushed him to lay backward to sit between his knees, reattaching your lips to his collarbone and eagerly kissing down his chest and abdomen. He chuckled, bringing a hand up to gently hold your hair out of your face. His finger lovingly swept a circle over your cheek. You boldly and playfully licked a thick stripe up his torso, causing a strained groan to bubble from his throat, before returning nip down to the waistband of his boxers. Your sudden confidence had quickly dissipated as you looked up at him with wide eyes. This was the first time you’d seen him this way, in this position. Bradley was so beautiful. He had been hitting the gym pretty hard in preparation for his hopeful, second-round acceptance into flight school come graduation next year and it was definitely paying off, though you admit you still liked it when he was a bit softer in the middle. He gave you an encouraging grin as you began to pull the material downward, his cock sprung free and slapped up against his abdomen. You blinked, dumbfounded, as you took in the sight of him. “I…”

“You don’t have to do anything.” He stated firmly with a soft smile, bringing a hand to brush the hair from your face once more. You furrowed your brows and shook your head.

“Teach me?” You gazed at him expectantly. “Show me how to touch you. Teach me how to make you feel good, too.” Fuck. He nodded, swallowing hard. He took your hand and brought it to his lips for a quick kiss before guiding it down to secure gently around his length. He tightened his hand over yours slightly, signaling you to tighten your grip a little. Taking his cock in your hand, you hesitantly pumped it a few times before surprising the both of you by boldly licking the precum from his tip. It was surprisingly pleasant but maybe it was because a soft, strangled moan bubbled from Bradley’s lips, which was enough to make you squeeze your thighs together. You wanted to do everything you could to hear that sound again. He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, humming in approval as you hesitantly took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his length until it hit the back of your throat. You gagged but recovered smoothly as he guided you to bob your head. You hollowed your cheeks as you sucked on his length and pumped what you couldn’t fit with your hand, just like you saw in the videos you sometimes watched in preparation for this moment.

“Are you sure this is your first time?” Bradley chuckled and sighed as his head fell back against the headboard. You couldn’t keep the cocky grin off your face as you repeated your motions. You figured he was exaggerating your skill for your benefit, but you didn’t care. The sounds leaving him were deliciously filthy, reassuring you that you were doing all the right things. “That’s it baby, just like that. So fucking good for me,” His hand gripped a fistful of your hair as he thrusted his hips toward your face slightly. You gagged but recovered immediately, though you could feel your embarrassment flushing your cheeks. “Shit, sorry, is that okay?” You hummed in response, the vibrations adding to Bradley’s pleasure so much so that he huffed out a string of curses. You could feel your wetness begin to drip down the side of your thigh, and you were getting a little antsy.

“Bradley…” You whined as you pulled back for air. Your body stiffened as nerves consumed you once more. “I want… I need…”

“What do you need, honey?” He questioned gently, pulling you up to him to catch your lips. He expertly flipped you back onto your back, slotting his body between your legs. You could feel him over your heat, causing you to experimentally buck your hips upward to grind against him. “Tell me what you need.” Bradley hissed as you whimpered. He fumbled to pull a condom from the box of his bedside drawer, planting wet kisses on your outstretched arm on his way back to you.

“Please fuck me,” you requested boldly. The filthy words from your lips made him throw his head back with a groan. “Bradley, please.” He tore the foil packet open with his teeth and pumped himself a few times before rolling the condom down onto his length. He kissed up your neck back to your lips as he positioned himself at your entrance, running the head of his cock through your slick folds.

“Let me know if you want me to stop, okay?” He kissed you sweetly. You smiled at him with a hesitant nod. You figured you would feel a lot more embarrassed than you did, feeling pathetically naive and innocent to be experiencing this for the first time at your age, but he never put the thought that he felt that way in your mind. Bradley was never condescending, he never talked down to you or made you feel like something too pure or too delicate to touch. He slowly pushed his tip into you, causing your eyes to water and screw shut. Your fingernails dug into his shoulders and your body went rigid.

“Angel, I need you to relax your muscles. I don’t want it to hurt,” He bit back a moan as he continued to fill you once you relaxed. “Do you want to stop?”

“No.” You stated firmly. It didn’t hurt as bad as you were told it would, it was more uncomfortable than anything. He waited for you to adjust to him, idly planting wet kisses over the length of your neck and collarbone as he whispered sweet praises in your ear.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” Bradley cooed. “You’re taking me so well,” After several minutes, you shifted your hips slightly in attempts to ease the discomfort, and… Oh. You moaned slightly at the new electricity inducing feeling that coursed through your body. Bradley picked up his head to reattach his lips to yours and pulled his hips back slightly before slowly thrusting back into you. You gasped, your eyes fluttering open to meet his. His dilated pupils fixated on your own as he found his rhythm, pushing deeper into you while increasing his pace. His sweet moans were music to your ears, and yours to his. You were a whimpering mess underneath him, grabbing fistfuls of sheets as he ran a hand down your thigh to wrap your leg around his waist. “You’re so tight.” A deep-seated groan emitted from the back of his throat as his thrusts became sloppy, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. He took one of your hands in his, interlocking your fingers and bringing them to rest on the mattress above your head.

“You feel so…” You moaned before your lips latched onto his neck. “Fuck.”

“I love listening to you,” He admitted blissfully. “I never could have imagined the sweet noises you make.” You whimpered at his words. He hastily snaked a hand down between the two of you and started rubbing tight, fast circles on your clit. The added sensation with him thrusting into your dripping core at a dizzying pace, repeatedly hitting just the right spot, was almost too much but so perfect. His praises kept stoking that building fire in the pit of your belly, and watching him watch you sent you over the edge once more. Your vision went white as a string of curses fell from your mouth. Your legs began to shake and the rest of your body stiffened.

“Bradley, oh my – fuck!”

“That’s it, good girl,” He groaned at the sight of you writhing underneath him. He sucked a mark into your collarbone to contain the melodies escaping him. “Baby, I’m gonna come,” Bradley rasped as he buried his face further into your neck. You brought up your other leg to tighten them both around him, bucking your hips to meet his thrusts as he came undone on top of you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You had never seen such a beautiful sight, watching the muscles of his bicep contract as he held himself over you while he fell apart. He lazily peppered your neck with hot kisses, sucking marks into your skin, and after a few moments, he begrudgingly lifted himself off you with a huge grin plastered on his face. He would have stayed there forever if you let him. “How are you? Was that okay?” You giggled at his concern, shaking your head in disbelief.

“It was perfect,” you hummed in contentment. Definitely worth the wait, and now I know what I’ve been missing. Bradley’s phone began to ring, and when he lifted it to check the caller I.D., his smile faltered for a split second.

Mav

He hastily declined the call. Maverick was continuing to not get the hint of months’ worth of rejected calls and Bradley refused to let him ruin another perfect moment in his life right now.

“Who’s calling so late?” You joked. Fucking Maverick on his fucking Pacific Standard Time.

“Telemarketer, probably,” Bradley lied, cupping your face and kissing your lips sweetly. “What do you say we just skip the first day back tomorrow and stay in bed all day instead?” His grin was anything but angelic, borderline shit-eating, as he began to kiss his way down your neck to your chest. You erupted into giggles, pretending to push him away.

“Bradley!”

Baby Come Close was still thrumming through the speakers on repeat as you held each other, and neither of you were in any rush to end the perfect night. You both desperately wished that you could have stayed here forever.

[cherrycola27]

Elementary

Summary: You are the younger sister of Natasha Trace. You've just moved to San Diego to teach 4th Grade. You never expected to fall for an older man in a Hawaiian shirt who happens to be her best friend.

Warnings: Language, Drinking. Smut, Age Gap, Daddy Kink. Minors DNI 18+

Next Part

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You'd noticed him the moment you and your friends had walked into the club. He was with a group of guys leaning up near the bar. He looked entirely out of place with his Hawiian shirt and aviators. He had a thick mustache that accentuated his almost familiar face.

He was still there when you walked up later to get a drink.

"Can I get a Titos and cran with Sprite?" You asked the bar tender. "Titos?" He commented. "Classy." He smirked before taking another sip of his beer.

You laughed before turning to him. "I'm trying not to hate myself in the morning. I spent enough time in college drinking bottom shelf shit out of a trash can in a frat house. I've done my share of hangovers. Thank you very much." You tell him.

He turns his body to face you fully. You catch the quick slip of his eyes as he scans your body.

"College? When was that? Last year?" You can't tell if he's joking or not.

"I graduated six years ago. I'm twenty-eight, not a child." You tell him. "What about you. When did you graduate Old Man? 1950?" You laugh.

"Old Man? Really? What makes you say that?" He asks you. "The 'stache and the Hawaiian shirt." You say nonchalantly.

He laughs. "Well, it's been about thirteen years since I graduated college. Didn't realize thirty-five was old." He shakes his head before finishing his drink at the same time the bartender comes back with yours. You go to hand him your card, but your new friend stops you.

"This one's on the Old Man." He winks at you.

"Thank you. You smile at him. "I'm Bradley, by the way, but everyone calls me Rooster." He puts his hand out for you to shake. You tell him your name, and then it clicks. He's one of your sisters coworkers.

She would kill you if she knew you were flirting with him, but what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

"What do you do for work, Rooster?" You asked him. You knew the answer. "I'm a Naval aviator, I fly jets and stuff." He says it so casually. "Oh, that's cool. I've got a few family members in the Navy." You tell him. That's not a lie. Your sister and your soon to be brother in law were both in the Navy. You didn't want to tell him who they were, though.

"Cool. What about you? What do you do for work?" He asks you.

"I teach. Actually, I just got hired to teach fourth grade at the elementary school near the Navy base here in San Diego." You tell him.

"No shit? I know if my teachers had been as pretty as you are, I might have paid better attention. But on a side note, I've got a couple of friends I work with whose kids are going to be in fourth grade there." He tells you.

Little does he know that those kids are your niece and nephew.

"Well, maybe I'll get to see you around then." You finish off your drink and set it on the bar, just as one of your favorite songs comes on. 'Unholy,' you thought—how fitting.

You grab him by the hand. Come dance with me, Bradley.

He happily follows you to the dance floor and pulls you flush against him as your body moves against him.

His hands have a tight grip on your hips. You turn to face him and start singing along with the music. You don't miss how his fingers did into your flesh a little harder each time the word 'Daddy' leaves your mouth.

As the song finishes, you decide to push your luck. You lean up on your tip toes and whisper in his ear. "How about be get out of here, Daddy?"

You smirk as he grabs your hand to lead you to the exit.

"Did you drive?" He asks the moment you're out of the club.

"Ubered." You tell him. "I drove, fuck, follow me." He says.

Moments later, the two of you are standing by a classic blue Bronco. You don't even have time to admire it before he pushes you up against it and kisses you roughly.

It takes all of the willpower he has not to fuck you in the parking lot.

It takes him ten minutes to get back to his bungalow. He's undressing you the minute you get through the door.

Your clothes are strung haphazardly throughout his home. It's a miracle the two of you make it to the bed. But you do. Soon, he's got you laid out before him, and his face is buried between your legs.

He eats your pussy like it's his day job, all the while his hips rut into the mattress. He makes you cum twice on his tongue and fingers.

"Condom?" He asks as he prepares to fuck you.

"Clean. On the pill." You tell him.

"I'm clean too, fuck, you want me to hit it raw?" He growls.

"Yes, please, Daddy." You tell him with hooded eyes.

As he slides into you, you know exactly why they call him Rooster. He's huge in length and girth. He's splitting you open in the most delicious way.

He fucks into you hard, fast, and deep. He takes one of his large hands and presses it on your stomach. You can feel him in there.

"Fuck, you feel how deep I am?" He ask you. You nod your head. "You like feeling Daddy so deep in this tight, perfect little pussy?" He groans.

You whine out a response as he toys with your clit.

"You gonna cum again for me baby?" He asks you. "Yes, Daddy, close!" You moan out.

"Fuck, I can tell. Can feel you clenching so hard on me. That's it darlin, be a good girl and take Daddy's cock." He tells you. Soon, you're falling over the edge, screaming for him.

"Good girl, such a good girl." He praises you.

"Baby, I'm close, where do you want me to—" He asks but you cut him off before he can finish

"Cum in me! Fill me up, Daddy!" You moan out. You don't have to tell him twice. Rooster cums and fills you up with his spend.

He collapses on the bed next to you. After a few minutes, he gets a cloth to help you clean up. You try to get up to find your clothes, but he pulls you closer to him.

"Stay, I'll make pancakes in the morning." He tells you.

You know you shouldn't, but you stay anyway.

The next morning, he does make you pancakes. The two of you get to know each other all morning, and he asks to take you out on a proper date that night.

"I can't tonight. I have to babysit my niece and nephew, but I'm free tomorrow." You tell him.

He agrees. A few hours and several orgasms later, he's dropping you off at your apartment. You have just enough time to make it look like you haven't spent the day getting fuckeswithin an inch of your life before your sister shows up with her fiancée and kids.

The doorbell rings, and Catia and Cristiano run in to greet you. "Aunty Thena!" The cry as they both hug you. You laugh at the nickname. Your sister and her fiancée and almost all of their friends were aviators with callsigns. You didn't have one but were given the honorary callsign "Thena" after the goddess Athena by your future brother in law. He claimed it was because you were both wise and scary. Even though you were barely nineteen when her sneaky link turned into her baby daddy, you were still a force to be reckoned with and wise beyond your years.

But Coyote stepped up when Nat found out she was pregnant. Their casual hook ups turned into something serious. Your parents had wanted them to get married before the twins were born, but they didn't want to get married just because Natasha was pregnant.

You supported her through her pregnancy and their relationship. You had even helped him pick out the ring.

The both of you still laugh when he tells she story about why he and the kids call you Thena.

"Cat, Cris, please don't kill your aunt before she has a chance to watch you!" Coyote scolds them as he walks into your home.

"Javy, they are just excited to see her. It's been months since she last visited. Natasha tells him as she comes in.

"Hey, little sis!" She smiles as she comes to hug you. "I'm so glad you moved out here!"

"You just like that you have a free baby sitter now." You joke with her.

Coyote laughs and shrugs his shoulders.

"Now listen up terror twins." He addresses his children. You laugh at the nickname for them. It's funny because it's true. You and the twins have gotten into a few messes together. Catia, the oldest, was definitely the mastermind, while Cristiano was, more often than not, the unwilling accomplice.

"Your mom and I will be back in a few hours to pick you up. We have to finish a few wedding things. Be good for your Aunt Thena and listen to her. It will be good practice for when you start back to school and she is your teacher." Javy tells the kids.

Both of them promised to be on their best behavior. You wave goodbye to Nat and Javy. As soon as they are gone, you and the kids are ordering pizza and finding a movie to watch.

You're careful to make sure they don't see your phone and who you are texting.

.............................

You hadn't meant for it to go this far. After your first date with Rooster, you swore you were going to tell him who you were, but you liked the idea of keeping your relationship to yourself. You didn't want to hear what Nat had to say, but honestly, it wasn't any of her business. You were an adult.

The sex with Rooster was amazing, but he was a great boyfriend, too. These had been the best six weeks of your life.

You were currently lying in bed with him after a bit of afternoon delight.

"You really are the best partner that I've had Bradley. Most guys my age last like five minutes and don't even care if I cum. But not you. To be an old man, you sure can keep up." You tease him as you prop yourself up on his chest.

"I'm a Top Gun graduate, babe. The top 1% of Naval aviators in the entire fucking nation. Longevity and stamina are hard wired into me. Don't you know the reason why everyone wants a classic car now?" He asks you. You shake your head.

"Because they can keep their motor running for much longer." He smirks before rolling you onto your back for another round.

You were still in a post sex haze when you're phone went off.

"Shit!" You shouted and jumped up. "What?" Rooster asked you.

"I'm late! I'm supposed to meet my sister for some wedding stuff. I've got to go! I'll text you later!" You shout over your shoulder as you head out the door.

...........................

You and Natasha spent the evening working on some last-minute wedding plans. Once you were done, she suggested that you, her, and Coyote go out for drinks. His parents were keeping the twins for the weekend, so they wanted to take the chance to hang out without worrying about Cat and Cris.

You thought everything would be fine. You were wrong.

Everything was fine until you pulled into the Hard Deck and noticed a familiar blue Bronco. Shit. This wasn't good.

You tried your best to stay cool. You were attempting to fire off a text to Rooster, but Nat was pulling you towards the door.

She looped her arm in yours as she walked over to the group of pilots. You spotted Rooster and his Hawiian print shirt with them. His back was to you.

"Guys! This is my sister that I told you about!" Natasha announced proudly as she introduced you to the group. Everyone smiled and greeted you.

"Bradshaw! Say hi to my little sister!" Nat said, punching him in the shoulder. You didn't miss the color draining from his face when his eyes met yours.

You smirked at him as you introduced yourself.

..............................

The evening was awkward, to say the least. You didn't miss the glances Rooster kept sending you. You did your best to avoid him, but ultimately, both of you were sent on a drink run.

You walked up to the bar to order them, with him hot on your heels.

As soon as you'd ordered them, he grabbed your arm and spun you around.

"You're Nat's sister! How could you not tell me you were her sister?" Rooster whisper shouted at you, as the two of you waited for the drinks.

"It never came up and you never asked." You replied nonchalantly.

"She's going to kill me." He groaned.

"Don't worry, Daddy, I'll make sure she doesn't." You smirked at him.

"You can't call me that!" Rooster shushed you as he looked around to make sure no one was watching the two of you.

"Why not? You weren't complaining about it earlier today when I was face down and ass up and you were pulling my hair while fucking me into you mattress." You teased him. "In fact, I'm pretty sure you said 'oh baby, your tight pussy feels so good wrapped around Daddy's cock. Come on darlin cum for Daddy. Make a mess all over him.'"

Rooster turned as red as a beet. "Why didn't you tell me? We've been dating for six weeks!" Rooster stated.

"I was afraid you wouldn't like me anymore. I liked keeping you to myself. Once people know, they give their opinions, and they put their nose where it doesn't belong. Also, do you think Nat is going to be cool with this?" You tell him.

"She's going to kill me. She's going to cut my fuel lines, or she's going to use real guns during training. I'm so dead." Rooster shook his head.

Just then, Penny appeared with the tray of drinks for everyone. Rooster picked it up and turned towards you and sighed.

"Don't worry, baby, I promise we will figure this out. Just smile and nod until it's time to go home." You tell him. "Okay." He sighs.

"Now, let's go get these drinks to them before someone comes looking for us. Don't freak out, I promise I'll take extra good care of you tonight, Daddy, when I come over." You smirk at him.

Rooster shakes his head and follows you back to the group.

You were both too caught up in your conversation to notice a certain Weapons Systems Officer who had come to get more peanuts, and who had unfortunately overheard the end of your conversation.

"Well, well, well." Bob sighed. "This isn't going to be good."

Hope you guys enjoyed this first chapter!

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