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theharddeck · 1 year

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can't unfeel that // Jake Seresin x fem!reader

pairing: hangman x reader (no y/n)

synopsis: jake and his FWB are going strong, totally not developing feelings, totally unaffected and happily still in friends territory...in completely unrelated news, Jake discovers a breeding kink

word count: 8k of smut interspersed with feelings

A/N: This fic is a follow up to kinda might, sorta like, love you a little bit; it’s not necessary to read that first, but it is the dynamic (if you haven’t read it, that’s where Jake discovers choking so it’s a fun time) (also the title is another line from the same song). Thank you to @gigisimsonmars for the inspo and beta-ing, and @laracrofted and @bradshawsbitch for opinions, moral support, and straight up coaching!! 💙

Warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI explicit PiV, unprotected sex, non negotiated breeding kink—friendly reminder this is a work of FICTION oh my god use protection and communicate explicitly with your partner beforehand please please please— f!receiving oral sex, hint on condescension, denied/delayed orgasm, overstimulation…if none of that phases you, there’s also swearing.

This was friend behavior; friends totally go grocery shopping together.

It definitely wasn’t a big deal that you and Jake were at a Whole Foods, him looking for some kind of weird protein powder while you picked through cartons of blackberries.

It was absolutely casual that he’d moved into a small house off base, and you were spending the night more often than not.

Your friends with benefits situation was continuing as expected, and the domesticity of it all was not, in any way whatsoever, throwing you off.

You wrinkled your nose at your reflection in the mirrors over the produce section, wondering who you were convincing. In the mirrors, you saw a man with a child on his hip come up to peruse the bell pepper section, and you stepped aside to give them more room.

“I’m so sorry to bother, but would you mind?”

You were surprised when the man spoke to you, and you turned to see him sheepishly looking between the rows of bell peppers, and the toddler who wouldn’t let go of her father, her lower lip quivering dangerously each time he readjusted his grip to reach for some vegetables.

“Of course,” you said, pulling down a produce bag. “What can I grab for you?”

“Actually,” the man shifted the child on his hip, “could you just take her for a minute? My wife sent this massive list and I have like a dozen things I need to get, and it’d just be faster…”

“Oh,” you said, looking at the girl who looked dubiously back at you, trying not to read gender roles and expectations into someone just asking for help. “If it’ll help, sure.”

“Thank you so much,” the man sighed in relief, handing over the child with little fanfare. The kid looked at you suspiciously, and you settled her onto your hip, not giving her a chance to second guess the arrangement. The man moved quickly down the aisle, pulling out a list to consult and grabbing different vegetables, as you narrated to the child, hoping the steady flow of information would be enough to offset the fact that she was being held by a stranger.

“Did you know,” you told her quietly, “that Brussels sprouts grow on stalks, like almonds? They look like little cabbages, and they’re technically related, I think, but they don’t come out of the ground like that. The pattern they grow in is actually called helical—which I’ve never said aloud until this moment, but it’s the same base word as helix, so I hope I got it right—around the stalk…”

You rambled on as the father continued to dart up and down the aisle, coming back occasionally to drop the bagged produce into the trolley. You heard a familiar footstep on the linoleum, and turned both you and the child towards it.

“And that man over there,” you told her, smiling conspiratorially as Jake rounded the corner, his boots giving a distinctive cadence to his step, “didn’t believe me when I told him it’s actually Brussels sprouts, with an ‘s’ at the end.”

Jake’s face went on a journey when he found you, then registered that you were holding an unfamiliar child, and his eyes slid over to the father running frantically up and down the aisle. A strange expression settled on his face when he looked back at you, almost frowning, as he walked closer to you.

“It’s not his fault,” you continued to the toddler, who was watching Jake with open fascination as he approached. “He’s a cretin whose unpopular vegetable of choice is an asparagus.”

“Ha ha,” Jake deadpanned as he stepped beside you, looking between you and the child with that same unfamiliar expression on his face. “What’s this?”

The father chose that moment to reappear, dropping a mesh bag of yellow onions, a carton of fingerling potatoes, a bundle of scallions, and a couple heads of garlic into the trolley, and nodding at Jake before turning back to you.

“Honestly, you’re a lifesaver,” he thanked you fervently, reaching for his kid. She went without complaint, and you briefly envied her unflappability, before you were preoccupied by other things.

Things like Jake stepping way into your personal space, and leaning forward to brush a kiss on your cheek. You shivered, surprised by the contact, but Jake stared intently at the man’s retreating figure, juggling his daughter and the trolley, either unaware of or unbothered by the heavy gaze following him.

“What was that?” you asked him, as soon as the man finally rounded the corner. Jake’s nose wrinkled, before he shook his head and stepped out of your personal space. He wasn’t looking at you, but held out the shopping basket towards you, showing a brown envelope labeled Organic Pea Protein on top of the groceries you’d already picked out.

“I found the powder,” he said, his voice level, and you weren’t sure if you were crazy or if he was suppressing. But Jake didn’t look like he was going to divulge any additional information, so you reached behind you haphazardly, grabbing the first carton of berries your fingers closed on.

“And I’ve got the berries,” you announced. You checked your selection as you dropped it into the basket, mentally grimacing when you saw you’d picked blueberries.

“You hate blueberries,” Jake said, frowning slightly.

“Sure do,” you muttered, looking at them, before pasting a smile on your face to look back at Jake. “But we’ve committed at this point. Anything else we need?”

Jake looked at you for a long moment, then shook his head tersely. “Uh, no. No, let’s go.”

You were both quiet as you stood in line to check out, making cordial conversation with the cashier, and then fading out as you carried the paper grocery bags out to the truck. The silence was almost disconcerting, but Jake didn’t seem upset, just like he was focusing intently on something, you weren’t sure what. You were loading the groceries into the backseat behind the passenger door when you realized Jake wasn’t opposite you, and that his bags had already been loaded. You were looking around for him when strong hands closed around your waist, and Jake pulled you to him, closing the door in front of you, before pressing you against the side of his truck. You expected him to turn you to face him, but you braced yourself against the truck when he didn’t, his broad body caging you against the door.

“Jake?” you asked softly, unsure what he needed, or was looking for, knowing that sometimes it was easier for him to feel you than to tell you. You could feel him drawing in slow breaths from the way his chest expanded against your back, and his hips pressed slightly forward at your soft question.

“Just a sec,” he said gruffly, his voice muffled as he turned his face into your hair. He wasn’t kissing and he wasn’t nuzzling; it just felt like he was grounding himself by touching you, and you knew that, despite trying to convince yourself otherwise by the bell peppers, your heart was in trouble. Because not only only did you not mind, you wish he’d let you do this more.

You nodded, sliding your hand up the side of the truck so you could rest your face on the back of it, while you waited for him. Jake drew in a couple more breaths, and then his hands on your waist loosened, as he turned you to face him.

You went easily, arms dropping from the truck to his shoulders, hoping if your presence had steadied him, your touch could do the same. His eyes were stormy, the green of them clouded over by something complicated, something messy, and your hand snuck up from his shoulder to the back of his head, pulling his face down to you. You didn’t kiss him, but you watched his eyes slide closed as you pressed his forehead to yours, and his shoulders dropped slightly.

“Want to tell me about it?” you asked quietly.

He didn’t say anything, but you felt him shake his head, his hair scratching your forehead from where it was trapped between you.

“Want to get out of here?” you asked instead, and this time felt him nod, causing something like pride to well up in your chest, relieved that he’d trust you enough to be able to voice what he wanted.

“Okay, then,” you said, gently as you could, “ let’s go.”

Again, Jake nodded, and you felt his hands tighten on your waist.

“When we get home,” he said, his voice rough, “I’m unloading the groceries. You’re going straight to my bed, changing out of this, and into my old Staubach tshirt.”

Jake didn’t phrase it like a question, but you knew he was asking it anyway, so you nodded. You felt him exhale a long breath against your cheek, like relief, and then he released you suddenly, like he had to do it at once or he wouldn’t at all.

He stepped away from you to open the passenger door, made sure your feet were tucked in before shutting it, then crossed in front of the truck quickly, pulling the truck out of the lot before his word choice snagged in your mind—home.

You looked at Jake out of the corner of your eye and he wove the truck in and out of traffic. His eyes were squinted against the bright sunlight, but the expression on his face was unfamiliar to you. His jaw was clenched, and his hands were tight on the steering wheel, and when one dropped to the stick to shift gears, the movement was terse, precise. You wanted to be a more altruistic person, you did, but realistically, something warmed deep in your stomach as you anticipated what that meant for when you got home.

When he pulled into the driveway, Jake was out of truck before it’d fully stopped, yanking open your door and turning you to face him, on the edge of the seat. You fumbled to undo your safety belt as his hand on the back of your neck drew your mouth to his, his lips claiming yours in a hungry kiss.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you reached a hand up to his jawline to steady yourself as he pressed you back against the seat. He kissed you hard, heavy, and you knew there was something he was saying that he wasn’t telling you, but you couldn’t quite read it off his lips. His mouth moved hungrily over yours, then he pulled himself back, pressing chaste kisses on the corners of your lips, your chin, across your cheekbones.

“Upstairs,” he said, his voice low. “Be ready for me.”

The heat that had been curling in your belly since the parking lot fanned into a flame in his words, and you nodded mutely. Jake helped you out of the cab of the truck (a couple more kisses and a smidge more of that voice, and you probably would’ve slid off the seat), and you walked on unsteady legs towards the house.

Upstairs, you rooted through Jake’s pajama drawer, looking for the worn navy tshirt he’d requested. You could hear the refrigerator door opening and shutting as Jake shuffled groceries around the kitchen, and you stripped unceremoniously, before pulling the tshirt over your head. The material felt soft, the hem falling just to the tops of your thighs. Jake’s footsteps sounded on the stairs and you darted over to the bed, perching on the edge of it as he came into the room.

At the sight of you, something softened in his demeanor.

His shoulders lost some of their tension, even as he pulled in a deep breath, looking at you. Your thighs pressed together as you fought the urge to squirm under the intensity of his gaze, no less unsettling for its familiarity. He noticed, of course, his eyes darting down to your thighs, and an almost-smile growing on his lips.

He walked into the room slowly, each step measured, and by the time he made it to the bed you were practically vibrating with need. To hear his voice, to feel his touch, to know you’d generated some kind of reaction from him, while you sat fidgeting.

Jake stopped in front of you, running a finger along the neckline of the shirt, and you couldn’t help but lean towards him.

“Thank you.”

He said it quietly, and it surprised you. You weren’t sure if he meant for changing, for waiting, for understanding that he couldn’t say whatever it was, but as you met his eyes as he stood over you, you nodded an unspoken ‘you’re welcome’.

Jake’s hand trailed down the front of the tshirt, his touch warm even through the cotton. His fingers stalled when he reached your breasts, his thumbs passing languidly over you as he confirmed you weren’t wearing anything underneath. Your nipples hardened under his teasing touch, light and unhurried, even as his eyes darkened.

“So good for me,” Jake murmured, and his hands dropped farther. He tapped the tops of your thighs and you opened them obediently. There was no pretense here, no point in pretending his words and his authority didn’t affect you. As you parted your legs, Jake sank to his knees beside the bed, his eyes flashing as he bent level to your hips.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, his warm breath ghosting over you, the endearment falling from his lips like it was natural, even if it was only when you were like this, “is this for me?”

He pressed a feather-light kiss to your core, his tongue darting out between his lips to taste you and you knew what he meant—you were already glistening with arousal. Jake’s fingers came up to grip your thighs and he inhaled deeply as he spread your legs farther, sending a flush of color across your chest. You always felt desired with Jake, but sometimes it felt carnal, the way he needed you to fill all his senses.

Another light kiss, another sweep of his tongue, tantalizing promises and teases for the both of you. You leaned back on your hands, braced on the bed, as Jake’s gentle touches continued. It wasn’t at all what you’d expected, this soft exploration, and your hips lifted towards him, asking for more.

He pulled back.

You whimpered at the loss of his mouth, looking down to see him licking his lips. Jake’s chin was wet, shining with your arousal, and he’d barely touched you.

“Jake…” you started, your body canting towards him, but his hands on your legs stilled you.

“Asked you a question,” he mumbled, holding your eyes while he leaned in to place another chaste kiss on your cunt. His lips closed over you, his tongue curled against you, and you trembled at the dark look in his eyes.

“Yes, fuck,” you breathed, and Jake sucked where his lips had sealed, a reward. “All for you, Jake, only you.”

He hummed, the vibration causing your head to fall back as he placed another maddeningly controlled kiss on your core. He lapped at you slowly, pulling your arousal into his mouth, savoring your taste, taking his time. You realized you were trembling, your body shaking as Jake took what he desired, finding his pleasure between your thighs.

He kissed you, again, again, a soft trail up to your clit. When he rolled his tongue over that tight mound, your arms gave out, one of your hands tangling into his hair while you fell back to your other elbow.

Jake chuckled against your core.

“Need something, sweetheart?” he asked, licking a long stroke up your cunt. Your back arched and you cried out as Jake smirked into you, his tongue circling your clit. “Use your words.”

“More,” you gasped, your hips bucking into his touch. “Please, Jake, I need more.”

“More?” Jake asked, his voice low, and his teeth brushed over your clit as he sucked. You moaned, and Jake soothed you with more light kisses before you felt him shifting. A moment later, a thick finger traced along your folds, and you nodded feverishly.

“Please,” you begged, “I need—”

“Oh she needs, does she?” Jake mused, and you whimpered as he pulled back. You felt his cheek press against your thigh as he watched his fingers pulling through you. He spread you with his hand, holding your folds apart so he could lick deeply into you. The pressure of his tongue, the sureness of his touch, it felt so good, but it wasn't anywhere near enough.

And he knew it, the asshole.

“Yes, please, I—” you broke off with a yelp when Jake pinched your clit. He leaned in to soothe it with another frustrating kiss, but your body echoed with the throbbing pulse.

“Most people would be grateful to have their man on his knees, wouldn’t they?” Jake said, his voice muffled as his lips trailed over your core, but the teasing derision still present, sending a tremor through you. “But not you, hmm, honey? You want more.”

Your breath caught at his words; surely he hadn’t meant to say your man.

He wasn’t yours like that, hot as it was for him to say it…but the illusion of it was enough to set your reeling. You looked down at him—hair mussed from your fingers, pupils blown wide from your taste, shoulders panting as he chose between air and more of you—and this afternoon you liked the idea of him being yours.

“Greedy, greedy girl,” Jake chastised softly, when you didn’t correct him, but if you closed your eyes, you could pretend there was a fondness hiding in the gentleness of his voice.

He thrust two fingers into you.

You arched off the bed, a wail falling from your lips as Jake curled his fingers inside of you.

“And I take care of you, don’t I,” he said, kissing your cunt sloppily as his fingers worked in and out of you. “Every damn time, satisfy this needy pussy, this fucking perfect cunt.”

The stretch of his fingers, the wet drag of his tongue, the dirty sting of his words, washed over you and you moaned as he wrecked you.

“Yes, Jake,” you practically whined. “You’re so good, you feel so good, please—”

“That’s right,” Jake gritted, his fingers working faster. He thrust into you, stroking your walls and kissing it better with his warm mouth. You felt your thighs shaking and heat building in your center and you didn’t remember falling back onto the bed, but you didn’t remember anything other than the torturous, teasing, all consuming need that Jake was stroking between your legs.

“Fuck, honey, squeezing me so tight,” Jake panted. “You gonna cum for me? After all that needing, you gonna let me make you feel good? Come on, sweetheart, let me have it; it’s mine.”

His fingers continued stretching you, thrusting into you with perfect, intoxicating, precision and Jake leaned closer to your core again. His nose brushed against your clit before his lips closed around it, sucking messily, and you felt the building pressure inside of you shatter.

You heard yourself sobbing like something in a dream, distant and echoing, but all you could feel was the tremors wracking your body, and Jake’s tongue pulling you through it.

“Pretty girl,” Jake was murmuring between kisses. “You’re so damn beautiful, all the time, but when you come for me it’s something else. You did so good, sweetheart, so good, and you taste like fucking heaven…”

You whimpered as your head cleared, pulling weakly at his hair as he continued to kiss your sensitive core.

Jake continued to lap up your release, unrelenting, unsatiated, and you both groaned when he eased a finger back into you.

“How we doing, sweetheart,” he asked, and when you opened your eyes, he was watching you carefully. You realized he was holding his finger still inside of you, and it was your hips pulling him into you, rocking into his hand.

“Good,” you whispered.

Jake nodded, and his finger curled. “That’s my girl.”

His words soothed over you, and you felt them settle warmly over your skin, the same as when he’d called himself your man. It was probably pheromones, nothing more, but God it was a lovely thought.

“Sweetheart…” Jake’s voice was quiet, dangerous. “You know what that look does to me.”

This was happening more often than not, little moments where you wished for more, and Jake had to remind you that that wasn’t the deal you’d both agreed to. You clenched your eyes shut again, trying to make it go away.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

When you looked at him again, Jake’s forehead was pursed in a frown, and he shifted his weight to climb up onto the bed. He lowered himself over you, his hard body pressing over your soft one, and his mouth found yours. He kissed you and you tasted yourself on his tongue, even in the gentle insistence of this kiss.

Jake pulled back, his lips trailing along your jaw, your neck.

“Don’t apologize, honey, please don’t,” he whispered against your skin. “I can’t…please don’t.”

And you pressed your lips tightly together to trap the words, but when he pulled back to look at you, you knew you couldn’t look, not without showing him what he didn’t want to see. You could feel him watching you carefully, gauging your reaction as he added another finger inside of you. He groaned when you clenched around him, his hips rocking into you slowly as yours spread wider, to cradle him.

“Feels good, Jake,” you gasped, loving the weight and motion of him.

He sucked on your neck, nibbling lightly and letting go as he rocked into you again. “Why’d you have to do that,” he mumbled into your collarbone, “look at me like that, then tell me it feels good. Makes me want to keep you, honey.”

Your hips stuttered against his, even as you knew he didn’t mean it, he couldn’t. Before you could ask and before he could take it back, he surged up to kiss you again. There was something almost frantic in his kiss, desperate enough that you knew this was it, whatever had gotten into him back at the grocery store.

“Sweetheart,” he groaned, pulling his fingers out of you, settling his hands on your waist, squeezing tightly to orient himself. His face was buried in your neck, hiding, even as his clothed hips rutted harder against you.

“Tell me what you need,” you asked, one of your hands coming up to card through his hair. He shivered, this enormous pilot, shivered at your words and your touch. He pulled back to look at you again, carefully, for a long moment.

The afternoon sun was fading, and he looked golden in your arms, crouched above you. He hadn’t pushed your hand from his hair, and you smiled when he moved his head, adjusting where you were scratching him, working up the gumption to say whatever it was he needed.

“Can we pretend?” he asked at last, his voice holding something almost vulnerable. “I…maybe I can explain it later. But for now, can we just pretend?”

You didn’t know what he meant, but, irrationally, you trusted him anyway. If this was what he needed, and you could provide it, then you would. You nodded, and he let out a slow breath, nodding back. Beyond that, he didn’t move, looking almost uncertain with what to do next, so you pushed at his shoulders lightly.

“Let’s start here, yeah?” you prompted, pulling his shirt over his head.

Jake helped you, shifting to his side so you both could work on getting his pants off. Then he was in his boxer briefs, and you were in his shirt, and then he pulled that off of you too. The air was thick for a moment as you lay looking at each other, waiting.

You ran a hand down his chest, over the smooth skin and coarse hair, thickening as you trailed lower. You brushed your fingers over his length, straining against his underwear, and looked back up at him through your lashes.

“Don’t you want to fuck me, Jake?” you asked softly. He nodded, eyes closing as you ran your hand over him again.

“More than that,” he whispered.

He felt good in your hand, hot and thick, and you watched the outline grow as you waited for him to finish the thought.

You felt him brush some of your hair out of your face, before he said quietly, “Want to get you pregnant.”

You froze.

When you looked back up at him, Jake was watching you closely and your heart felt like someone had it in a chokehold because that was what he’d meant by pretending?? You’d mentally prepared for some variety of roleplay, maybe even an admiral or rank kink, but this? You, just with a future together?

While your mind was screaming that it was unintentionally cruel, your body was sighing that it was so. Damn. Hot.

You had an IUD so it wasn’t a possibility, but the fantasy was admittedly one that sent a pulse of need straight through you.

“Color,” Jake asked softly, and you bit your lip.

If you said no, he’d be apologetic, probably fix you a bath or go downstairs, give you some space while he fixed something from the grocery run earlier. You’d eat together, pretend it hadn’t happened, and he’d help you get back to base, whatever you needed. Unless what you needed was to be here with him, like this, only not pretend.

It was that simple, wasn’t it: there was no way you were walking unscathed away from knowing how Jake fucked you when he wanted a future with you.

But you looked at him, into his soft eyes that were waiting for you, hoping for you, and there was only one word in your mind.

“Green,” you whispered.

Jake’s eyes closed.

The hand that had brushed your hair away settled on your neck and he pulled you to him.

“Thank you,” he said, and before you could process that, he kissed you.

This kiss was different.

It wasn’t possessive, it wasn’t hungry. It was almost tender. It was gratitude, honest and insistent, pressed against your lips as Jake thanked you for something he had no way of knowing you wanted.

It was too gentle, but when you tried to deepen it, Jake held back, soothing you with soft caresses. His hands were light on your shoulders, your waist, the side of your face, embracing you with more than just his kiss. You melted into it, the gentle slide of his mouth against yours, his sweet taste, the strength of his arms around you. Jake kissed you until he felt you trust him with it, and then he rolled you both over.

He settled over you, his long body draping over yours, and you wanted to melt into the bedspread. Your arms were wrapped around him, pulling him closer to you, and one of your hands ran over his stomach to slip into his underwear. You hummed into Jake’s kiss as your fingers wrapped around his cock, warm and heavy in your hand, and his hips pushed further into your grasp.

“Honey, hold on—” he muttered against your lips, but you shook your head. His touch was too good, there was too much unspoken, and if you let the tenderness fester unchecked, you weren’t going to be able to handle this.

You could lean into this, you could do it. You slid your hands around his back, pushing his boxer briefs down to his thighs before your hand returned to his cock. You knew he always got a little worked up when he went down on you, and as you stroked your hand over him, precum beaded on the tip of his cock.

“Waited long enough, Jake,” you whispered, “want you to fill me.”

Jake drew in a sharp breath at your words, and he nudged your chin with his nose, moving your face so he could kiss up your neck. His mouth was more desperate than focused; you knew he’d leave marks and you tried not to think about why you wanted him to. You shifted under him, moving to guide his cock towards your entrance, brushing against your thighs, slicked with his spit and your orgasm.

“Sweetheart,” he groaned, words muffled against your neck, a warning and a promise as you ran his cock through your folds. “You’re so warm and I’m not even in you yet.”

“Want to feel you,” you told him, wishing your voice was wrecked because he’d asked you to pretend, not because the thought of him having you like this sent your head spinning.

“I know, honey,” Jake said, voice low. “Just give me a sec.”

You could hear his breathing, measured like he had to count it, like it was overwhelming for him too. You licked your lips as you lined him up with your core.

“Come on, Jacob,” you cooed, letting go of his cock and running your hands up his side, settling under his shoulder blades, “don’t you want to breed me?”

“Fucking hell,” Jake swore, and his hips slammed forward.

Your head fell back as he shoved his cock into you, stretching you, deep and hot and sudden. You whimpered his name as your body ached in the most delicious way, stuffed, full.

“What’d you think would happen, honey,” Jake said, his voice hoarse, but his tone sharp. His arms caged around you, and he pushed off the bed to pull out slowly.

The drag of his cock through your cunt was devastating, but not half as much as the look on his face, when you opened your eyes.

Fuck, he looked so good.

Sandy hair in his eyes, expression strained as he held his body in check, his eyes blown wide with desire. His head dropped when he pulled nearly out of you, just the tip still in you, and you felt yourself clenching down on him, needing him. His lowered head draped his dog tags against your chest, the cold metal causing you to gasp.

Jake chuckled, a rumble of a laugh, and the tags dragged across your chest, then trailed up your neck as he leaned forward while he pushed back into you. You looked down your body, down to where his thick cock, shining with your joint arousal, was pressing back into your entrance.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart,” Jake said, and you looked up at him. “That’s right. Look at me while I feed you my cock.”

You whimpered, every impulse telling you to close your eyes, let your head fall, focus only on the stretch of his cock and your body adjusting to him. But you let your eyes burn as you looked up at him, and Jake almost smiled.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Beautiful girl, doing so good for me.”

Your nails raked up his back as he bottomed out in you. He felt so deep, like you could feel his heartbeat, or maybe that was just the way his chest was pressed up against yours. It felt like every inch of your body was connected to his, melting into him, as Jake waited for you to adjust. His eyes darted over your face, watching you carefully, and it warmed you just as much as his body over yours.

“Need you to move, Jake,” you gasped, when you were ready. “Need to feel you move.”

“We’re back to need, are we?” Jake asked wryly, but he rolled his hips, pushing deeper into you before pulling himself back out. He thrust back into you, your body accepting him, craving the push and pull and the fullness of him. Jake set a steady pace, deep and thorough and you felt like every time he pressed into you it was too much, and when he pulled out, like you needed him all the more for it.

So, yeah, you were back to need.

“Fuck, those sounds you’re making,” Jake groaned. “You sound so good, sweetheart, I could come just from hearing you.”

You hadn’t even realized you were whining, each thrust of Jake’s hips punching sounds out of you. A layer of sweat coated his skin, soothing the abrasion of his chest hair as he moved over your and the juxtaposition of it all—his words, his cock, his sweat, his chest—clouded your mind so all you could do was keep making whatever noises he pulled from you.

“But not today, huh?” Jake continued, pushing back into you. “Not today, because today’s not just about getting us there, is it, it’s about fucking filling you.”

You moaned at his words, nodding desperately, feeling yourself clenching him tighter at his words. God, you wanted to feel that, wanted to feel him.

“‘s that what you want, baby?” Jake gritted, his hips slamming forward. “To be so full of me, with my seed, not just when I can give it to you like this. Fuck, you’d always have me in you, wouldn’t you, carrying me.”

You felt yourself sliding up the bed, being pushed up by the force of his thrusts. You reached back for the headboard, finding it closer than you’d expected, pushing back to meet Jake, and he moaned.

“That’s right, sweetheart, push yourself back on this cock. You need that don’t you, to milk it till you’re full of me?”

You cried out as you nodded, needing that, just like he said. Jake swore under his breath, reaching down to rearrange you. He pulled your legs out from your hips, hooking his elbows under your thighs and easing into you again.

“Jake, fuck,” you groaned, the new angle pushing him impossibly deeper. Pleasure curled hot in your core, stoked higher by the friction of Jake’s thrusts. Your body was still sensitive from your first orgasm, but his cock and his words had you hurtling towards that precipice again, sooner than you could’ve imagined.

“You too, sweetheart,” he gritted, but he couldn’t know, couldn’t feel this as much as you did.

“Jake,” you whimpered. “I’m want to come, please—”

“No,” Jake gasped, and your eyes flew open. His jaw was slack, his eyes hooded, but his expression was intense as he looked down at you. His mouth opened slightly when he pressed deeper into you again, but he gained control when he pulled back, your body protesting the loss of him.

“No?” you echoed, and he shook his head.

“We have to time it right,” Jake murmured, his cock shoving back into you, “if we want this to stick, honey, you have to come with me.”

Your eyes rolled back, at his words or from the steady press of his cock. “Jake—”

“Count us down, sweetheart,” Jake said, voice stern. He braced his hands on either side of you, his arms shaking as he held himself in check, but his expression steady. “I’ll get us there, but you tell me when you need it.”

Fuck, you were pretty sure you could come just then, if he told you to. But you bit your lip and nodded, rewarded by a slow push as Jake rolled his hips into you.

“Ten…” he prompted.

“Ten,” you repeated, not sure if you could make it that long. Jake pulled back as he stroked out of you, and you heard him spit a moment before a cool wetness covered your clit.

“You look so beautiful,” Jake whispered, his thumb brushing over your clit. “God, how unreal you’re going to look carrying my child.”

“Nine,” you gasped, your vision blurring as his finger worked over you.

“Fuck, with your stomach all round,” Jake broke off as he thrust into you sharply, “filled, carrying my child...”

His thumb moved in a circle with delicious, maddening pressure, and you moaned as his words settled over you. “Eight.”

“These tits,” Jake leaned forward, his shoulders pressing your thighs flat against the bed and his mouth closing over your breast, messily kissing you, “they’ll be fucking swollen, won’t they, as you get ready to nurse our child.”

Your back arched off the bed as his tongue worked over you, mirroring the motion of his thumb. His mouth was wet and warm and perfect, and heat pulsed through your body. You could feel everything and you keened as you tamped it down, knowing you had to wait.

“Seven,” you managed, and Jake hummed, you could feel it.

“So soft, swollen, and all full of milk,” Jake mumbled, switching to the other breast. “And when you’re aching and sensitive, I’ll be there for you—bet you’ll taste so sweet like that, won’t you, darlin’.”

The thought of nursing Jake was stunning, and you moaned when you realized he was sucking at you, nipping and miming milking your breasts. You felt your body tighten, your toes curling and you shook your head against the pillow.

“Six; I’m not going to—”

“You’ll make it,” Jake soothed, releasing your breasts and shifting back, returning his attention to your clit. “You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart, I know you can do it. Just a little longer, have to make sure you’re ready for me.”

“Five,” you gasped, “I’m ready, Jake, please–”

Jake pressed more firmly on your clit, stealing your words as your breath caught. “I don’t know, honey—you’re doing so good for me, but it’s a big fucking load. That’s what you need, that’s what I need, so much fucking cum, to get my girl pregnant.”

You could only moan, surrendering to the feelings and emotions he was caressing out of you. Your skin felt white hot, and you could feel your legs trembling; it was only a matter of time before you lost control entirely.

“Four,” you whimpered, and Jake thrust into you again.

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he soothed, his own voice tight as he fought off his orgasm. “You’re milking my cock so good, honey, can you feel it? Feel how hard you make me, how bad I need you, how I need to fill you?”

His rhythm faltered as his pace sped up, his cock plunging into you. Jake grunted at the top of every thrust, a sound of deep satisfaction that curled through you, gave you strength you didn’t know to hold off, to wait for him, to do it together.

“Three,” you cried.

“That’s it, sweetheart, because I do need to feel you, need to fill you, pump till you’re full of me and see me dripping out of my pretty cunt. Christ, you feel so good, you’re so good, how are you—”

Jake broke off, his hips slamming into yours, his cock reaching a place that had you seeing stars. Your eyes rolled back and you reached for him blindly, anchoring yourself with a hand in his hair, the other closing around his dog tags, moving with him as he thrust over you.

“Two,” you moaned.

“Almost there, sweetheart,” Jake groaned. “Almost there, almost time for me to fuck a baby into you. Fuck, you’ll be such a good mama, won’t you, so smart and beautiful and glowing when you’re carrying my child, all contented because I gave you everything, always will, and you can’t leave then, not with my seed—tell me you’re close, honey, are you almost there?”

“Jake,” you wailed, your count forgotten as your body trembled, his words closing around your heart like a vice. Jake’s pace was bordering on erratic, rhythm lost, his sweat dripping down to your joined bodies every time his hips met yours.

“Gonna give you a baby,” he gritted, “but you have to come with me, come with me now, please, fuck, sweatheart—”

Jake came with a shout, hoarse and sharp and he pressed his hips into you. He pulsed inside of you, his hips shuddering, and you could feel his cum streaming into you, hot and deep and what you needed. His head dropped to your chest as his body loosened with his release and you felt your orgasm break over you, like a thousand fuses lit at once.

The room swam, blinding light and senseless heat, pulsing over your skin like a heartbeat, and your awareness was distilled to him—Jake.

Jake’s beautiful groan when he finished, echoing around in your head, the holiest sound you’d ever heard.

Jake’s hips stuttering weakly against yours, thrusting even after he’d cum, like he couldn’t stop.

Jake’s voice, hoarse, whispering words you couldn’t discern, phrases you must’ve heard incorrectly, promises pressed against your skin.

Jake’s hands, shaking with the force of his orgasm, but smoothing over your skin, checking you, soothing you.

The light faded and you fell back into yourself, into your wrung out body, drenched in sweat and pleasure. The room felt hazy, heavy, and you realized Jake had matched his breathing to yours. You reached down, pushing the sweat-dampened hair off his forehead, smiling reassuringly when he looked up at you.

You could see it on the tip of his tongue, wanting to ask if you were okay, but he held it back, and you watched him shut down the part of him that was nervous about what had just happened.

“Hi,” you whispered, your voice hoarse.

“Hey,” Jake said back, clearing his throat. “Um, I can get a towel—”

“Can we stay?” you asked, hoping it didn’t sound too desperate. You just needed a minute, just a moment to bask in the warmth of what you’d pretended to feel, before your mind could catch up enough to pretend it away.

Jake hesitated for a moment, before nodding, and gently rearranging your legs, laying them down beside him before he shifted onto his back, pulling you with him. You went easily, resting on his chest and drawing a deep breath, thankful for the borrowed moment.

He probably wasn’t pulling out to avoid making a mess, knowing a washcloth was far away, but you could almost imagine it was because he craved the closeness as much as you did.

As you settled against his chest, one of Jake’s hands came up, absently running up and down your arm. You thought it had to count for something, the ‘friends’ part of ‘friends with benefits’, so you steadied yourself before you asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Jake’s hand stilled, then resumed its slow brushing as he petted you. You knew he knew what you meant—you weren’t asking about the sex, you were asking about before.

“Not really,” he said quietly.

You’d expected as much. “Okay.”

Jake’s fingers drummed against your arm, and the room was quiet again. The sun was setting, casting the room in an orange light, like the inside of a lamp.

“I mean, if you want to, we can,” he hedged, after a minute.

You scoffed. “That doesn’t mean much; I always want to talk with you.”

Shit.

The words had slipped out before you could stop them, and you squeezed your eyes shut, wishing you could take them back.

“We can ignore that,” you mumbled, and Jake chuckled softly, before sobering.

“If I tell you why,” he said, “can we ignore that, too?”

Ignoring and pretending, how you’d always expected falling in love to be.

Even though no one could see you, you rolled your eyes at yourself, and your malaise. You nodded into Jake’s chest, knowing he could feel it.

His hand was back to stroking your arm, like he wasn’t even aware he was doing it.

“You kinda looked like that kid,” he said.

Your heart stopped.

“What?” you managed.

“At Whole Foods,” Jake said, “when you were holding that little girl. I just came around the corner and it was like…like I saw a whole parallel life, one where someone married you, gave you kids. And I’d just walk by you in a grocery store, without knowing. Hell, even knowing, you looked like a family, like you fit together, like…”

He trailed off and your head physically ached as your mind whirred, processing his words. “Jake, she didn’t look anything like me.” “Her hair was similar,” he continued, a stubborn lilt to his voice, and you knew he wasn’t looking to be reasoned out of this.

“Okay,” you said, wetting your lips, waiting for Jake to finish the thought.

Only he didn’t.

He simply lay there, with you, his hand moving gently up and down your arm, seemingly content.

“So you decided you wanted to roleplay us getting pregnant?” you prompted, when it became clear that he wasn’t going to say anything else.

Jake sighed. “I hated it.”

You jolted at his words. “What?”

“Shit no, sweetheart, not that,” Jake said hurriedly. “Not what we—no, are you kidding, that was so damn hot—I meant seeing you in the store. With him. And holding her. It…I don’t know, it made me mad it wasn’t me.”

You pulled in a sharp breath, trying to find a platonic way to interpret that.

You could feel your heartbeat in your temples, so loud you couldn’t think, much less rationalize and you pushed yourself off of his chest. Your hips ached as you spread them again, settling your knees on either side of Jake as you looked down at him, still joined. Jake’s expression was guarded, but he let you look, shifting his shoulders on the pillows but meeting your eyes. Without your arm to stroke, his hand fell to the top of your thighs and resumed its motion there; you could tell the silence was making him nervous.

Well, that made two of you.

“I need you to be so fucking honest with me, Jake Seresin,” you said, proud of the way your voice was steady. “What does that mean?”

A hundred emotions flashed across Jake’s face before you could name them, and then he pushed himself up, settling you firmly on his lap as he brought his eyes level to yours.

“It should be me,” he said, “not with a kid, per se, and not just in Whole Foods, but people should look at us and see we fit.”

And then he kissed you.

For a moment, you were frozen.

This couldn’t be happening.

It had to be a weird, sex-induced dream where Jake told you he was jealous of an absolute stranger, jealous enough to admit he had something dangerously close to feelings for you.

But even as alarm bells sounded in your head, you knew this wasn’t a dream.

Because your body was sore in a very real way, the man in front of you was flushed, his fingers digging into your thighs with nervous tension, and he was kissing you carefully, so carefully, like he could pull back at any moment if you told him to.

Like hell.

You leaned into him, your hands wrapping around the back of his head to pull him closer to you. You felt him relax, felt his shoulders loosen and his arms wind around your waist, pulling your body flush against him. And this kiss was new, it was different, it was excitement and a little bit of embarrassment, at the foolishness of waiting so long.

You broke away, panting, and Jake rested his forehead against yours, his chest heaving. In the orange light, he looked gilded, too good to be true, like maybe he was Midas but you didn’t care if your skin turned to metal, so long as he didn’t stop touching you.

His long lashes fluttered, and your heart flipped at what you read in his green eyes as he opened them.

“Jesus, Jake,” you muttered, teasing, “you could’ve just told me you wanted to go steady.”

He chuckled, a warm low sound that you felt shake his body at the old-fashioned phrase.

“Yeah,” he said, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple, “but then we would’ve never discovered you had a breeding kink.”

Your jaw dropped and you pulled back, sputtering. “Excuse me—”

“I know, I know,” Jake shook his head, grinning, incorrigible. “But admit it: you loved it.”

You snapped your mouth shut, trapping the response that threatened to bubble out, words you hadn’t dared think, much less speak, before this moment. Jake looked at you, at your pressed-together lips and eyes that always said too much, and his smile softened.

“I know,” he said again, quietly, and he kissed you gently. Jake’s arms were tight around you and you leaned into him, letting it—whose kink it was, what you loved, what he knew—all go, knowing there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

taglist: @peakyrogers @hangmanbrainrot @wildbornsiren @princessofglitterland @mandylove1000 @daggerspare-standingby @blue-aconite @abaker74 @lt-bradshaw @dempy @callsignvalley @princessphilly @aurora-whispers @mxgyver @mlibbydp @bioodforbiood @thedroneranger

#jake hangman seresin fanfiction #jake seresin #jake seresin smut #jake hangman seresin smut #hangman smut #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader smut #jake seresin x reader smut #misskielwrites

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sodamnradd · 2 months

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Mixed Signals | AO3

Dramione / 14.7K (complete) / rated E

Everything was fine until Ginny started shagging Draco Malfoy.

Or, Ginny and Draco spark up a friends with benefits relationship but after countless visits to their flat, he falls for Hermione instead.

They threw a pan on the stove and drizzled it with sesame oil and broke out all the leftover vegetables in the fridge. Ginger and chilli peppers from her garden and bell peppers and half a courgette. Hermione was about to stand behind the frying pan when Malfoy came up behind her, placing a hand on her hip. “You look beautiful tonight,” he said in a low voice. His chest was warm against her back, his breath soft on her cheek. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you that.” “Thank you,” she replied in a stupor. It wasn’t just the compliment, but the soft caress of his voice, its possessive twinge, the way he towered over her, especially now that she’d taken off her heels. She trembled. “I love this colour on you.” He plucked the strap of her iris top. “Brightens up the whole room.” She smiled and felt his fingers flutter over her curved lips. “Not as much as this, though.” A fleeting touch before he nudged her away from the stove and took her place.

#dramione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #draco x hermione #hermione x draco #dhr #sodamnrad #sodamnradfics #mixed signals

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https-florals · 1 year

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you said, baby, no attachments - r.c.

part one || part two

word count: 2k

summary: after a very stupid, very impulsive night with rafe, you make a lot of questionable decisions.

warnings: mentions of sex, suggestive!!! friends-with-benefits but without the friends, mentions of drinking, cursing, little angst, little fluff.

a/n: FIRST EVER RAFE FIC!!!!! i have such a massive crush on drew starkey and tbh i’m shocked ive waited this long to write my bae rafe. anywayssss if this doesnt flop lol there may or may not be a pt 2 im working on!!! my plan is for this to have four parts, but that could change and i might condense it. this is based on casual by chappell roan!!

Stupid things have good outcomes all the time. JJ lives by that phrase, and after hearing it for years, it’s rubbed off on you. But apparently, that’s not a good excuse in an argument with him, and here you are, palms sweaty and slipping off your bike handles, repeating the words over and over and over like you’re trying to convince yourself they’re true.

Today’s stupid thing? Responding to a text from none other than Rafe Cameron. Okay, that’s been your stupid thing for about a month.

You had a little thing going with Rafe. It started at a party, a drunk hookup, neither participant quite realizing who the other was until they woke up in bed together. You had practically run from Tannyhill like the house was on fire, only after both of you fought a little, fucked a little more, and then promised never to speak of it again. You had thought that this pact also entailed speaking to each other, but about a week later Rafe caught you at work, smiled at you, and hit you with some stupid line you couldn’t quite remember. Something about being the prettiest girl in the room, which wasn’t exactly hard, considering you were indeed the only girl in the room as you worked the counter at the country club’s pro shop. When he slipped back his signed receipt to you, there were 10 digits scrawled across the bottom below his signature.

“Rafe, what is this?” you had to ask, tone a mix between a laugh and a sigh.

He shrugged, and attempted to grab his bag and run out, but you slid the fancy paper bag away from him. “I thought that we said we weren’t gonna talk to each other anymore,” you had stated softly, smiling at the way his cheeks tinted a little pink.

“Nah, I said I didn’t wanna talk about it,” he stressed, “But talking to you is way different.”

You just rolled your eyes and pushed the bag back to him, and he waved you goodbye as he left.

You can count on one hand all the interactions you’ve had with that boy, and that had to be the oddest. Well, maybe not as odd as having sex with him.

A week passed before you texted him. It wasn’t for anything really important, a scolding, if anything. All you did was remind him that again, he can’t just randomly take his shirt off while golfing. It’s a sophisticated establishment, the old ladies complain, blah, blah, blah. His response?

rafe c. - so you’re saying i distract you?

Yes, unfortunately, that is exactly what you’re saying.

The situations just get weirder, when the first time the two of you hang out is when you call him for a ride to the grocery store. No one’s at the Chateau, you’re out of gas, and every form of transportation you could possibly steal for a bit is with their respective owners. You doubt you could’ve balanced on JJ’s bike anyways.

The ride is a little awkward, but by the end you feel.. Comfortable. At peace, almost, in the Kook prince’s passenger seat with his hand ghosting over your knee. In the grocery store, it’s painfully obvious Rafe has never been shopping for food in The Cut. He’s wrinkling his nose at the cheap prepackaged salmon you buy, with generic bread crumbs. But then he helps you comb through the bell peppers to find decent ones, and carries your groceries to his truck. He even lets you play whatever you want over the aux.

You’re waking up with him in your bed the next morning, pushing him out the window so no one sees him.

And that’s how it starts, and how it continues- brief text convos, long hangouts, good sex and fake nonchalance. He stays true to what he said, and you don’t talk about it. To anybody. That was the whole thing- it was understood that it was a secret. No strings attached, forbidden kind of kook and pogue relations that would have your friends livid.

So why are you so nervous on this particular evening? Maybe it’s because Rafe let it slip to Sarah that you’re hooking up. Maybe cause Sarah just had to say something to John B, who then told JJ, who then fought with you in front of the entire group. Everyone knows, and everyone is telling you you’re crazy. It’s not something you can handle, so when you see that Rafe asked you to come over, you’re hopping on your bike and speeding to Tannyhill.

When you get there, you automatically rush into Rafe’s room, a sweaty mess.

He’s laying on his bed, in just boxers as he scrolls on his phone. He jumps when you walk in, setting his phone down quick and standing up like you’re the queen or something.

Your gaze tracks to a bottle of lotion and a box of tissues on his nightstand, and you groan and fake gag as you flop facedown onto the mattress.

There’s an almost soundless little intake of air, but you do hear it, and cut Rafe off before he can even speak.

“I’m not helping you get off!” you declare loudly, and the boy visibly deflates.

“Come on,” he whines, like a little kid not getting his way. “You came in at the perfect time.”

You roll over so he’s in your peripheral vision, and huff. “I’m mad at you.”

He sticks his bottom lip out, a little mocking as he crawls onto the bed beside you. “Awe, what’d I do now?” Rafe lays on his side, head propped up on his hand as he watches you. He likes to watch the way his lamp reflects in your eyes, and how you roll your eyes everytime you catch him staring at you. His fingers creep up your side, but you push him off. Oh. You really are mad, he thinks.

“Why would you tell Sarah?” you ask, voice quiet as you stare him down. The apples of his cheeks turn a little pink, and his eyes widen.

“Uh, what did I tell her?” Rafe lies, because he remembers exactly what he said to Sarah, and the way her jaw dropped after he spoke.

“I just- I really like her, Sarah. Forget about the sex and all that shit. When I’m talking to her, it feels like…” He’s stumbling over his words, not quite able to say what he wants. “She’s fresh air, and I feel like I’ve been stuck in a room without windows, or some shit.”

He was never much of a poet. He also remembers the vise-like grip she had on his arm as she told him she would kill him if he ever hurt you. Rafe promised he could never.

But right now he lies, lies and tries to level his voice. He’s a little shocked that you believe him, or at least don’t press the topic further.

“You told her we were sleeping together!” You hiss, lightly smacking him on the side of his head.

He winces, but internally he’s heaving a sigh of relief. He makes a mental note to never get drunk with his sister ever again as you continue to rant. It’s something about the Pogues wanting to kill him (nothing new), along with a couple of jabs about how he’s just the worst, and that he's annoying, and blah, blah, blah. Rafe isn’t really listening, rather just thinking about his stupid decisions. One of which is looking real pretty as she yells at him. Pretty enough to fall in love with. He absentmindedly tucks your hair behind your ear and you instantly exhale, losing your train of thought altogether in record time. It’s like you have the attention span of a damn goldfish around him.

You just groan again, and murmur, “I can’t stand you,” right before you press your lips to his.

Rafe laughs against you, pulling you on top of him in one smooth motion. “Good thing you’re sitting on top of me then.”

His hands slip under your shirt, and your fingers push through his hair. The calluses on his hands scrape against the soft skin of your stomach and catch on the lace of your bra. Hard hands for daddy’s money, you think. Your fingers tuck against his jawline, cradling his face while his tongue slips against yours, his lips curling up when you make any little noise.

You pull back to catch your breath, and Rafe just stares up at you, kind of punchdrunk.

“Rafe?”

“Mhm?” He reaches up to brush his thumb over your lips.

You’re silent for a second as you think about what you’re about to say. ‘What- What are we doing?”

Rafe’s mouth is parted, and you can’t quite decipher his expression as you watch his eyes flick over your face. He swallows, and says, “Whatever you want.”

You don’t really hear him, and blurt out, “I need this to be casual.”

“Casual?” he repeats.

“Strictly like, sex. No strings attached.”

He sits up, pulling you with him so you’re still on his lap but he’s eye level to you. He’s hard underneath you, but you ignore it as you continue to speak.

“Okay, just sex. Why?”

It’s actually very hard to ignore, literally and figuratively. Rafe is thinking the same thing when you clear your throat and move a little on him, subconsciously.

You shrug. “Listen, I don’t have the time for anything more than that. Plus, we know we couldn’t date, like ever.”

He nods, fake-stretching as a means to buck up against you. “And why couldn’t we date?” When you give him an incredulous look, he continues, “Just to play devil’s advocate. Not that I don’t agree with you, cause I totally do. I just wanna know what you’re like, thinking, if we’re on the same wavelength, or whatever…” He trails off, knowing he’s babbling and should stop.

You laugh a little nervously. “Okay, Cameron.” You take a deep breath, and hope that what you’re about to say makes sense. “I have an itch to scratch, and the only thing I want to do is scratch that itch.” You pause to think. “Itch that scratch?”

“You had it right the first time,” Rafe laughs, but the lilt of it is a little annoyed.

“Okay, whatever. Anyway, you’re good at scratching that itch.”

He grins with pride, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, and just the way he’s looking at you makes you squirm.

“Really good at scratching that itch,” you exhale a little shaky. “But y’know, I don’t really like you as a person.”

His eyebrows shoot up, eyes wide. “The fuck? Thanks a lot.”

“You’re an asshole, Rafe. Plain and simple. I’m not trying to be a bitch, but come on.” You’re thinking of all the times he’s been an absolute dick to your friends.

He’s thinking about all the things he’d lay down for you. “Not to you.”

Your words evidently sting him a bit, and you go red. You hadn’t really meant to hurt him.

You groan. “You know what I mean. My friends hate you. We just couldn’t work.”

Rafe doesn’t really know what to say. This isn’t really the way he thought this would go, but then again, what did he really expect? Everything is jumbled in his head, and all he wants to do is get high and forget about the conversation. But, even though you basically just told him that he's unlikable, you’re still regrettably pretty, and still on top of him. He grips your hips hard, holding you in place as he rolls against you. “So fuck buddies, but we can’t stand each other?” One hand snakes underneath your shirt to unclip your bra, and he does it faster than you can blink.

“Exactly,” you say somewhere in between both of your shirts coming off. “Just stress relief.”

His hands are hot all over you. There’s a hardness in his gaze that’s so different from the softness of his touch.

“We have to have rules,” you manage to state when you’re shimmying out of your shorts, breathing hard while Rafe toys with the little pink bow on your panties.

“Whatever you want, pretty girl.”

It’s a filler phrase, you think. He must desperate for you to shut up and fuck him, so he’s saying anything.

He’s still thinking about how he’d do anything for you. Anything.

You still for a second to catch your breath, and say, “No feelings. No staying overnight. And we can’t go anywhere together that we would be seen.”

“Why not?” Rafe groans as your clothed heat slips over him.

“Rafe! People will talk. They’ll think…”

He presses a finger to your lips, effectively shushing you. “That we’re fucking? Well, hate to break it to ya, baby, but we kinda already are.”

“And no calling me baby.”

Rafe ignores you and slips his hand between your legs, and you forget that you’re supposed to hate him.

likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#outer banks fanfiction #outer banks #outer banks imagine #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron smut #obx fanfiction #obx2 #obx fic #obx netflix

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weemssapphic · 1 year

Text

in my head (series)

Chapter One: Friends with Benefits

Larissa Weems x f!reader

next chapter | series page

words: ~2.7k, ao3 link

chapter-specific warnings: light smut (nsfw), mentions of alcohol plot: Friends with benefits. No strings attached - no dates, no feelings, just sex (really good sex). That’s what you’d told Larissa. That’s what Larissa seemed to want, and you would do anything to make her happy. So you would be content with the way things were - for now.

“Darling, ‘mm so close,” Larissa moaned. Her thighs clenched around your head as you lapped at her core, savoring every drop of her arousal as she rode out her orgasm.

You peppered Larissa’s inner thighs with kisses and tiny bite marks before coming up to kiss her, whimpering softly as her tongue brushed against yours.

The bell rang and the hallway flooded with students, signaling the end of your free period.

“My meeting with Mayor Walker is in ten minutes,” Larissa sighed, running her fingers affectionately through your hair and stopping at your jaw, pulling you in for a heated kiss that held promises of more to come - later, once official duties had been fulfilled.

You were reluctant to pull away but you had your own class coming up in a few minutes, and so the ache between your thighs would have to wait.

“I don’t think my students would take kindly to me being late for fucking their principal, huh?” You smirked, earning yourself an incredulous look and a playful slap on the ass from the older woman.

“Must you be so crass?”

“Oh don’t even try to deny it, you love it when I talk dirty,” you grinned and tossed Larissa a wink, which was rewarded with an eye roll.

“I love it even more when you stop talking completely and put that mouth to better use,” she grumbled, the amused glint in her sapphire eyes giving her away.

You placed a hand to your chest in faux-surprise. “Principal Weems, you wound me. Here I thought you enjoyed my clever quips.”

“For that they would actually have to be clever, darling. Now I only have seven minutes until my meeting, and I am still your boss, so I must ask you to leave. Unless you’d like to be punished for being late to your own class…?” Larissa quirked up an eyebrow and you felt your cheeks heat at the implication.

“As tempting as the offer is, Principal Weems, I should get going.”

You reached out and fixed her smudged lipstick with your thumb. Larissa gazed at you fondly, eyes sparkling, lips tugged up into a small smile at the outer corners. “Thank you,” she murmured. You weren’t sure if it was a trick of the light, but you could swear you saw a pink tinge to her cheeks.

“If you need me,” you said, raising an eyebrow suggestively as you fetched your panties from her desk and planted a final kiss to Larissa’s cheek before turning to leave. “You know where to find me.”

“Perhaps tonight, to let off some steam. You know how tiresome the Mayor can be,” she rolled her eyes and you snorted in agreement.

“I thought you didn’t tire easily,” you teased.

“Not with you, darling.”

Larissa watched you leave, eyes fixated on the sway of your hips as they disappeared from sight behind her office door. A glance at her watch told her the mayor was due any minute now, so she shook her head lightly, as if physically trying to rid herself from thoughts of you. She mustn't let herself get distracted.

~~~ FLASHBACK ~~~

You had piqued Larissa’s interest from the moment she’d hired you for the newly founded position of Outcast Neurostudies teacher. Your ability as a mind-reader made you uniquely suited to the position, and it intrigued Larissa - she hadn’t met anyone like you before, and she felt drawn to you from the get go. You challenged her in ways not many people had the ability to, and there was a certain charge in the air when you were around that she simply couldn’t explain.

After spending some one-on-one time together, the two of you had discovered you had quite a lot in common, and had developed a close friendship. You would spend Friday nights curled up in front of Larissa’s fireplace, sharing a bottle of red wine and talking about everything and nothing. It felt nice for Larissa, finally opening up to someone again.

Only she couldn’t get you off her mind. One such day, she was sitting at her desk, preparing to leave for Outreach Day by firing off a few last minute emails. Her thoughts drifted to you - it would be the first time she’d see you off-campus, and the thought thrilled her a bit. Perhaps she could steal you away for some hot chocolate at the Weathervane when all the students were settled into their assignments.

Larissa’s thoughts drifted even further, wondering what you would be wearing. You always looked so tantalizing, blouses that stopped just shy of your cleavage, skirts that would hike up when you’d squeeze onto the sofa in Larissa’s office, the smooth expanse of your thighs on display. And you, so blissfully unaware of your charm. The thought made Larissa heady.

No. Such thoughts about an employee were unprofessional.

But if they only stayed thoughts?

Larissa slammed her laptop shut with a frustrated groan. She could feel her panties growing damp as she pictured you writhing underneath her, riding out an orgasm on her fingers. Fuck.

She had to do something about the ache between her legs, or Outreach Day was going to be pure torture.

Larissa’s hand slipped under the hem of her skirt and dipped between her thighs, cupping her soaked panties. This wouldn’t take long, she was already so close. She began to rut against her hand, rubbing hard and fast circles against her swollen clit, the faintest of moans passing her lips. Images of you, face contorted with pleasure, screaming her name, flashed behind her eyes as she stroked herself through her panties, her stomach burning.

A knock at her office door caused her to jerk her hand up, and she coughed out a weak “come in!” whilst smoothing her skirt.

Speak of the devil and the devil shall appear - you strolled into her office, beaming ear-to-ear, wearing a tight blouse with the top button undone, hair pulled back to reveal the full curve of your jaw (oh, how would it feel to leave prints of her own lipstick along that jaw?)

“Ready for Outreach Day, Larissa? The students are waiting by the buses.” If you noticed that Larissa was flushed, her breathing labored, well, you didn’t comment.

“Y-yes, Ms. Y/L/N. I’m ready.” Larissa cleared her throat, fingers twitching on her desk as she pressed her thighs together to relieve the tension still steadily climbing inside of her.

“Great! Maybe you’d like to sit next to me on the bus?” Your innocent smile did absolutely nothing to soothe the ache between Larissa’s legs. This was going to be a long day.

And it was. Thanks to Wednesday Addams, it was a complete disaster.

The day ended with Larissa inviting you back to her office to share a bottle of wine as she let out her frustrations. One bottle quickly turned into two, and Larissa became aware, again, of the fire in her belly, the heat spreading rapidly throughout all her limbs.

You sat close, closer than you’d ever sat. The firelight flickered across your features, illuminating your natural beauty. You looked so eager, so receptive. When you put your hand on her forearm in a soothing gesture, stroking her bare skin with your thumb, it made her dizzy.

She wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the day’s pent up frustrations but before she knew what she was doing, her lips were on yours. To her surprise, you didn’t push her away - quite the contrary, you let out a wanton moan, a moan that said “what are you waiting for?” and she pulled you closer by the waist and allowed her tongue to slide against yours.

She fucked you right there on her office sofa that night, both a little wine drunk, neither one of you caring about anything except quelling the burning desire that burned inside the both of you.

And then morning came. Larissa awoke alone in her bed with a searing headache and, moments later, the events of the previous night came flooding back to her. Her tongue on your cunt, teasing your entrance, circling your clit. Your breathy moans, the way your thighs clenched around her head as you came.

Shame coursed through her body. She wanted to run and hide, but she knew she had to own up to her mistake, so she called you into her office for the conversation that had changed the trajectory of your relationship:

“Come in.” Larissa was sitting at her desk, head in her hands, when you entered the office. She could barely look up, unsure how she would be able to look into your eyes.

“I assume you want to talk about last night?” you asked. When Larissa finally looked up, you were biting your lip - you looked nervous, and it took everything in Larissa not to reach out and kiss you, to soothe you somehow.

She took a deep breath, slipping into her mask of professionalism, steeling herself for rejection. “Y/N… I apologize for what I did last night. I don’t want you to think poorly of me, what I did was not appropriate nor professional in the slightest. I value the friendship you’ve trusted me with and hate to think that I’ve broken that trust over a silly drunken mishap.”

To Larissa’s utter shock, you laughed. “Larissa… I don’t know about you but last night was the best sex I’ve ever had. Where did you learn to do that thing with your tongue?” Larissa’s heart began to pound, the blood rushing to her face. Was she hearing you correctly? Was this some sort of fever dream? You were supposed to be angry, to be disgusted with her. Yet here you were, staring at her with your kind eyes - laughing?

You rounded her desk, perching at the edge of it and taking Larissa’s chin between your fingers. The action made her shiver. “Hey, I’m sorry. I wanted to lighten the mood a little. I just mean I don’t think poorly of you and you have nothing to apologize for, because I don’t regret what happened last night. I enjoyed myself and if you did, too, then I don’t see why we couldn’t… you know, do that again sometime.” You smiled hopefully.

Larissa sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her mind was reeling - when she’d woken up that morning she’d been so afraid you’d be disgusted with her, that you’d tell her off and never want to speak with her again. Instead, you were offering yourself to her on a silver platter. She couldn’t dare hope.

“I have a rule against dating coworkers,” she said slowly.

“Oh, I don’t mean dating. Think of it as blowing off steam.”

There was a beat of silence where the implications of your words hung heavy in the air.

“What are you suggesting?” Larissa furrowed her brows, pulse racing as she tried to concentrate with your fingers tracing the line of her jaw.

“Haven’t you heard of, you know… friends with benefits?” Your cheeks were slightly rosy and you sucked your lip between your teeth.

Larissa snorted, her hand shooting up to cover her painted lips at the unpretty sound.

You let go of her chin and slipped behind her, soothing your fingers into the tense muscles at the base of her neck. God, that feels good… You dug your thumbs more intensely into her shoulders and she couldn’t help the moan that spilled out of her mouth.

“Friends with benefits, huh?” Larissa’s voice was low and wanting as she mulled over your words.

“No strings attached, Larissa. No feelings, no dates. Just two friendly coworkers who enjoy each other's company and just so happen to have mind-blowing sex.” Any qualms Larissa had about staying professional, about not ruining your friendship, were slowly trickling away as your warm breath washed over neck, your hands working her muscles into putty.

“Mmh…” You dug your thumbs harder into Larissa’s back. “I could agree to that.” She let out a moan and swiveled her desk chair around, putting an end to the massage in order to claim your lips with her own.

~~~ END FLASHBACK ~~~

A few weeks into your arrangement with Larissa, you still got chills every time you walked down the corridor to her office. You couldn’t believe your luck - somehow, the stunning, intelligent, imposing woman had not only become one of your closest friends, but was also interested in you sexually.

Your relationship with her was almost perfect: you’d talk, laugh, cry, be there for each other like best friends, then you’d have the best sex you’d ever had with anyone - all, as you’d said, without any strings attached, without having to label anything. If sharing a glass of wine and quelling her sexual frustrations was all she wanted from you, hell, you weren’t going to question it. It was more than you could ever dare hope for.

You reached Larissa’s office for the second time that day and knocked on the door, waiting for her smooth voice to call “enter” before slipping into the room.

“I brought you your favorite.” You grinned, holding up a bottle of Larissa’s preferred red wine as if it were a trophy.

Larissa’s features softened as she peered up at you over the top of her laptop, her lips curling up into a smile. “Let me finish this proposal and then I’ll be right with you.”

You made yourself useful by pouring two glasses of wine, handing one to the blonde then curling up in the armchair across from her desk and watching her finish her work. She worked so intently, so diligently - her fingers flew across the keyboard, her brow furrowed lightly. Every so often she would pause, nibble at her lip, then her fingers would tap away at the keys again. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

Larissa stilled, feeling your eyes upon her. Her gaze met yours and she arched an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing.” You blushed and stared down into your wine. Larissa watched you for a moment before turning her attention back to her proposal, a small smile now playing upon her lips.

The next half hour passed in amiable silence as Larissa worked and you scrolled on your phone, peeking up every so often to steal a glance at the principal. Finally, she shut her laptop. She leaned back in her armchair, eyes fluttering shut, a frustrated groan escaping her lips.

“Dare I ask how your meeting with Mayor Walker went today?” You spoke quietly, as if afraid to break the silence.

Larissa chuckled darkly, opening her eyes and reaching for her wine glass, draining it in one go. “The aftermath of this year’s Outreach Day extends farther than I thought, it appears.”

You frowned, rounding the desk and sitting on the edge, just in front of Larissa. “I’m sorry, I know how important Outcast-Normie relations are to you.”

Larissa waved a hand in front of her face. “No need to pity me, darling, it comes with the territory. I just want to do right by these students. And now our dear mayor wants this proposal on his desk by Monday morning.” She rolled her eyes, sighing heavily.

“Do you want me to leave? I mean we could always take a raincheck, you look like you could use some rest and I-” Larissa lunged forward, her mouth colliding with yours, effectively putting an end to your rambling.

Her lips were warm and soft on yours, and she kissed you with a ferocious urgency that you’d rarely experienced from her. She slid her tongue against your lip and you allowed her to explore the cavern of your mouth as her hands tangled roughly in your hair.

When you parted, it was only because Larissa had run out of breath. She rested her forehead against yours, her breath warm against your face.

“I don’t want you to leave,” she murmured. “I… I need the distraction tonight.” She swallowed thickly, closing her eyes, and you could tell it was hard for her to ask for what she wanted.

Your hands came up to cup her cheeks. “Do you want to be in charge tonight?”

#larissa weems x reader #larissa x reader #larissa weems #principal weems x reader #principal weems #in my head series #in my head

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mymelodymia · 7 months

Text

Daddys little girl Dad!Tony stark x baby!daughter!reader

Summary: you are tony starks baby girl <3

Warnings: nothing just fluff 🥰

A/N: my acc hasn't been getting much attention lately. I hope this gets as big as my fics used to be. Also im using the same way you met tony as in toddler years

+•°+*°•+

Being tony starks daughter had lots of benefits, but also lots of bad parts as well. But for now we're focusing on the good parts. Let's start at the beginning.

One day, mid (birth month) the door bell rang. Tony, the famous billionaire playboy, walked out of his garage and turned the corner. Given that the whole wall of the front door was glass, tony saw right through it.

No one was there. Only a small cardboard box, layered with a multi colored blanket. He stepped closer, Jarvis opening the door. He saw a baby looking like it was fresh out the womb.

You, had a envelope in your tiny hands. Tony bent down and took it from your grasp. And along with this note (and angel) came a bag. Which held a single bottle, three diapers, a white onesie, identical to the one you were wearing, and your birth certificate. Only his name was on the paper. You didn't even have an identity yet. Tony opened the letter and read it.

'Dear tony. Shes only 2 weeks old and driving me insane. I dont care what you do with her, whether you put her up for adoption i dont care what you do. But shes yours now, feel free to get a DNA test. Just get her the fuck away from me.'

"What a bitch" tony muttered under his breath, looking down at you, he couldn't help feel the need to take you in. You were his after all.

"Sir, if you do not want the child, we can send it to mr rhodes" Jarvis suggested, tony immediately turning him down "no, no dont do that"

He picked you up, and took your blanket as well, quickly he wrapped you in the small blanket.

He walked over to the couch, staring at you the whole way there.

You began to flutter your eyelids. Tony gasped for no reason at all, his heart began to race slightly. He was about to meet his daughter.

You opened your eyes, and they locked with tonys, you both just stared at each other for a while. Before you, the curious little baby, reached up as high as you could. Your fingers brushing his cheeks.

You cooed, making him smile, which made you smile. You let out a small happy noise. Before tony stood up, and walked toward the front door.

He grabbed the bag and headed upstairs to his bedroom, not taking his eyes off of you.

He sat down on his bed, that was three times his size. And set you down on the mattress. And turned on a movie on the plasma tv mounted to the wall.

After a few minutes, he had noticed you had completely soiled your diaper, he picked you up and put a towel on his dresser, after a few failed attempts, he successfully changed you.

He called happy and pepper, who came as fast as they could given that he called and said "hey so i just found out im a father, i need you to come quick, thanks bye" and hung up.

They both arrived at the same time, and after a small argument over his choice of words on the phone call. Tony sent them out to go get bottles, diapers, formula, etc.

And for the meantime, tony spent some time with you. Your large e/c eyes looking around on awe.

You were beautiful. (Still are) and tony made sure you knew that.

He felt quite stressed given that you did not have a name, and that he had to choose one. He would definitely be one of those guys who picks a name with a meaning.

Eventually, he settled for y/n y/m/n stark. Your first and middle names perfectly fitting in with your last. It had a nice ring to it.

After a moment your eyes began to droop. Tony took note of this and held you to his chest, patting you on the back (be careful tony)

He rocked you to sleep, and once you fell into this slumber, he whipped out his laptop. And after a few hours of online shopping and a couple thousand dollars, everything he needed to take care of you was on its way.

+•°+*°•+

The next few days, most of the packages were there. Including the crib. The past days he had been forced to put you in a laundry basket, that he stuffed had with his pillows. (The first time you fell in love with his scent)

It took both happy and tony to get it through the house. And after multiple arguments, being ended by you crying because they were loud. And pepper taking care of you in the meantime. five hours later the crib was officially in one piece.

Tony also bought a crib that was transparent on the sides so he could keep an eye on you in the living room, but sadly you were too small for that so they decided to save another 7 hours and not put that together now.

Once all of the packages had arrived, tony had happy took all of the packages to tonys bedroom. Then went home.

Tony put your crib right next to his bed, and in a corner he had the changing table, which doubled as a dresser, put in a corner next to a rocking chair for him to lull you to sleep.

He heard you whimper from across the room, he turned to the clock, and it read 10:48 pm.

He walked over to you as you started to cry. He immediately sprung into action and grabbed you, resting you on his chest patting your back.

"You must be hungry, my little y/n" (ahaha. Do you see the connection)

He walked downstairs to feed you. Once he was done with this task, he sat at the rocking chair and sung you a lullaby (or AC/DC in a soft tone 🤷‍♀️)

When you fell asleep, he decided he needed sleep to (for once) though it was quite early for him, he did need to sleep given that he now had you, and thought he needed some extra sleep.

+•°+*°•+

The next morning he was woken up at four in the morning by you screaming your head off. He jumped up (dad instincts already kicking in huh) tripping over his blanket that wrapped around his foot, looked at you. And could smell it before he could get there. Oof.

After he finished changing you, he walked downstairs cradling you in his arms, that engulfed your tiny body. Your head resting in the crook of his arm.

He fed you while sitting at the couch, he thought, might as well stay up. He'll probably just be woken up by you anyways 😆

You fell asleep in his arms not long after. And he swung his head back, closing his eyes. And fell asleep on accident. And a few hours later, he woke up to you once again, screaming your head off.

once your eyes fell upon his, you calmed down immediately. Making a small happy noise. Making him smile.

He had ordered some clothes for you online. And now that the baby carrier thingy was there, he could now bring you into public. He was nervous given that paparazzi follow his every move. But he didn't really care if they saw him with you, you were his.

He went out with just you in his arms, and came back with tons of bags full of clothing.

He then went ahead and put a car seat in place, along with a mirror so he could see you if he was driving. Which he wouldn't be doing for a while.

+•°+*°•+

He had took time off of stark Industries for a few months, so he now worked at home.

After two months of having your presence in tonys home, you were both inseparable. Tony couldn't do anything without you because he was hooked, and you couldn't do anything without him because you were only two months old.

The first time you sat up, he was so proud of you. Same for when you first rolled over, but his favorite achievement you had made so far has got to be when you first giggled 🤭

At seven months you began to crawl. (I know that's kind of early but i started crawling early and i know almost nothing about babies so..)

You had been sitting up, playing with tony when he scooted away from you, you gave him a look and leaned on your hands. You pushed you knees up and started army crawling to tony. Bouncing yourself with your arms.

He gasped and cheered you on. "Come on baby, come to daddy, aaaaahh, you got this sweetheart, come on" when you reached him he scooped you into his arms, smothering you with kisses.

Then his kisses became tickles, he pulled away from you and put his hand on your stomach and began to wiggle them all around.

You started giggling, which fell into deep baby belly laughter when he blew a giant raspberry right above your belly button.

You, only being seven months, couldn't do anything but wait for him to stop. Which he probably won't do anytime soon given that he loves your laughter 🥰

At 11 months old, tony went back to stark Industries. He had made a very large portion of his office dedicated to you.

Toys everywhere, there were a few books, he had that "transparent crib" in there as well. Which doubled as a playpen for you, mainly soft toys like stuffed animals and such were in there.

Many times pepper stopped a meeting mid way through, just to give you to tony. You had been screaming your head off but the second you were in tonys arms you calmed down immediately.

He would continue the meeting with you clung to him. Wrapping your arms around him, your head resting in the crook of his neck.

When you celebrated your first birthday, tony was having very mixed emotions, he loved you, and was so happy to see you made it this far. But he missed the days with his baby, and he wanted them back. He missed feeding you while you rested in the crook of his arm. Or rocking you to sleep while singing to you.

He is definitely the guy who throws magnificent parties that were long and big. But for his baby girls first birthday he only invited Rhody, pepper, and happy.

Watching everyone singing happy birthday and seeing you smothering cake and frosting all over yourself was one of the best times of his life. And he would never forget it.

+•°+*°•+

A/N: i might do another Dad!Tony stark x baby!daughter!reader cause it's so fluffing cute! And here are the few things I forgot while writing this