#the long overdue 801 follower celebration

[callsignthirsty]

Thirsty - 55 AND JAKE IM BEGGING YOU

HEY SUNNY!

YOU DON’T NEED TO BEG unless you wanted it in a timely manner. I HOPE YOU LIKE IT.

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x F!reader Word Count: 850 Warnings: smut, overstimulation, p in v, mentioned fingering, mentioned oral (fem receiving), the mortification of being walking in on Minors DNI

Smut Prompt #55

You’ve been seeing Hangman for a couple months now. Suffice to say, the uranium mission had made him much more agreeable. Easier to palate. Just enough of his edges smoothed to make his smart mouth charming where it had once provoked with sarcasm and biting wit. And in that time, you hadn’t exactly wanted for sex. Hangman’s appetite was something else; you can’t think of a single time he’s left you wanting. But that doesn’t mean that you don’t like to take things into—ahem—your own hands every now and then. So when Hangman grumbles that Cyclone has wrangled him into a late night at North Island, you decide to have some fun.

Your assigned housing unit’s door doesn’t creak anymore since Hangman fixed it. Not that you’d have noticed after half a bottle of wine, anyway. You’d been too distracted to hear your spare key snick the deadbolt or the door open. So you were shocked into momentary stillness when Jake appeared in your doorway hardly thirty minutes after he’d usually roll around. Staying late, your ass.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?” he asks, eyes drinking you in unabashedly where you’re spread out on your bed, fingers buried between your legs. “Don’t stop on my account.”

You heaved a sigh. That wasn’t how you’d planned on your night going. Reassuring your situationship that taking your pleasure into your own hands wasn’t a reflection on his ability to get you off. “It’s not like that.”

“What’s it like, then?”

You decide direct is the best approach. “Sometimes I just want to cum.” And you’d assumed he wouldn’t be stopping by after his apparently-not-so-late night.

Hangman hums as if he’s mulling it over while he unbuttons his khaki top, dropping it as he steps forward to tower over you in his undershirt and regulation pants. “Well, since you want to cum so badly, why don’t we see how many times I can make you cum right now.”

When Hangman gets something in his head, he chases after it with his entire being. It’s one of the things about him that had both infuriated and fascinated you.

So, the answer is five.

Once as he guided your hips in a sinful grind against his thigh, sucking a bruise into your collarbone. Again with his fingers massaging the sensitive walls of your cunt and pure filth caressing your ear. Twice with his face nestled between your thighs—technically a third when he used his tongue and fingers in tandem.

“Jake,” you whimper, lightly swatting his head away from your quivering, oversensitive pussy. “That’s– ah! That’s enough.”

He chuckles, the sound originating deep in his chest. “You sure?” he asks, crawling up your tired body. All you want to do is sink into your mattress, but plush lips catch your nipple, and you can’t help the way you arch into the slick heat. He lets your nipple go with a pop. “I think I can get one more out of you.”

He takes his time playing with your tits before he nudges your legs far enough apart for his hips to slot between them. He shudders as he presses himself close, lazily thrusting his long-ignored cock along the length of your cunt. Nudging your clit and sending sparks crackling all throughout your system before drawing back to start over again. You wonder, a little hysterically, if he broke something inside of you. If he’d knocked a screw loose for you to want it after the wringer he’s purposely put your body through.

As the sensation walks the fine line between pain and delicious pleasure, you wrap your legs around his hips and roll into his next thrust. Offer him more of the friction you know he craves. He looks every bit the cat who got the cream as he brings a hand down to position himself at your entrance, but he pushes in slowly. Relief and restraint warring on his face as his jaw slackens and he fights to push in slowly, the movement slick from how wet he’s gotten you.

“There you go,” Jake rasps, muscles bunching as he lowers himself to capture bitten lips in a kiss. The rhythm he starts is gentler than you think he’s been with you before, but he’s brushing all the spots that wind you tightest. His pale eyes are half-lidded. “This okay?”

It’s over far sooner than you could have anticipated, but with everything else you’ve endured and the way Jake grinds against your sweet spot with unerring accuracy, liquid gold rushes through your veins as he makes you fall apart in record time.

“So fuckin’ hot,” Jake groans, pulling out of you to strip his cock. Grunting as he shudders through his orgasm, pearly ropes decorating your abdomen.

“Six,” he says, pressing a kiss to your stomach before leaving the bed to retrieve a washcloth.

You’d throw your pillow at him if it weren’t so comfy… or if you could get your arms to work. “Don’t sound so smug.”

“Whatever you say, darlin’.”

You’re asleep by the time he gets back to the bed with that washcloth.

#thirsty answers #thirsty's smut prompt list #the long overdue 801 follower celebration #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x female!reader #hangman x reader #top gun smut prompt #top gun smut #user: purelyfiction #requests are still closed

[callsignthirsty]

I'll do #9 "I don't care how good it feels you'd better not cum until I tell you to." With Bradley 😏

hey girl, hey —

so I’m finally getting around to the smut prompt fills from forever ago. please enjoy my first crack at writing Rooster. I had a fun time writing him, so hopefully it translates.

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x F!reader Word Count: 1005 Warnings: sex toys, slightly under-negotiated kink (kind of), in public, overstimulation (mentioned) Minors DNI

Smut Prompt #9

The last thing any of the Daggers had expected after the uranium mission was to be granted time off. Not that you were going to look a gift horse in the mouth when it meant that your boyfriend would be home for two whole months. The time off was a gift, and you were determined that you and Bradley would make the most of the unexpected time together.

All over his assigned housing.

After three weeks, the endorphins had you in a good—if slightly loopy, dick-drunk—mood, and when the Instagram algorithm struck while Bradley was in the shower, who were you to say no?

Which is how you ended up with your newest toy for $39.99 plus shipping and handling.

Frankly, you’d thought it would be hot. Sexy. Something to spice up your already adventurous sex life. The ad made it seem like a good time, and the premise was simple enough: a remote-controlled vibrating egg tethered to an app on your boyfriend’s phone.

You’d managed to keep hush-hush about it while it shipped, entertaining visions of Bradley activating the toy while you made dinner or watched a movie. Maybe, if you were both feeling up to it, you’d wear it out while the two of you were out on a date. A trip to enjoy sunbathing on the beach. So once your package had arrived, it was fair to say that when Bradley had invited you out to the beach, waggling his eyebrows as he offered you the toy and an opportunity to take your play outside, all from his open palm, you’d said yes with a smile.

What you hadn’t expected was for his squad mates to be there. Your fate sealed when a weak mechanical vibration made itself known between your legs as Phoenix pulled you into a hug.

Dogfight football, you’re sure, is a lot more fun to watch or ignore when you aren’t being tortured. You grab an ice cube from a nearby cooler and cup it to the back of your neck, but it does nothing to cool the fire raging inside you. You whine, face tilted up toward the sun. If anything, the shock of ice against your heated skin makes everything worse. Skin tingling. Senses heightened.

“Rooster!” you squeak, grabbing more than just your boyfriend’s attention to the point that you must remind yourself that no one else knows. “Can you c’mere real quick?”

Rooster smirks, all broad shoulders and glistening tan as he passes his Nerf ball off to Coyote and makes his way toward you. “Yeah, babe?”

“Please,” you whine when he’s close enough. You’ve already crimped your beer can, toes curling in the sand as you try desperately not to writhe for all his friends and other beachgoers to see.

“Please what?”

You don’t see his hand disappear into his pocket, but you feel it. This time, you can’t help but arch your back, a gasp tumbling from your lips. “I need to cum. God, just–” He cuts you off with his lips against yours, pressing you into sun-warmed sand, and you drag him with you. You open your mouth and welcome his tongue with your own as you press your chest to his, overeager to feel his body against yours. Every touch sends a zing straight to your core. You don’t care that you’re on the beach. You don’t even care that his friends can definitely see you. You just. Need. to cum.

You’re almost there when the vibrations cut out completely.

This time your groan is from frustration. Because what the hell? Did it just die on you?!

You’re contemplating a refund when Bradley parts from you with a nip to your lower lip. “I don’t care how good it feels,” he murmurs, close enough that his mustache tickles your lip when he speaks. The toy pulses once, then goes still again. “You’d better not cum until I tell you to.”

“Bradshaw!” Bradley’s head whips around to where one of his squad mates is heckling him back to their game.

“Be right there!” He presses a wet kiss right below the crux of your jaw. “Don’t worry, this game’s almost over.”

You heave a sigh of relief. “Thank god.” The sooner you can drag Bradley back to his housing assignment, the better.

“Best two out of three.”

You pout. “Bradley.”

“Then maybe some drinks. Wouldn’t want to leave if everyone’s sticking around.”

“If you really think I’m sticking around for you t–” You’re cut off as the vibrator kicks up again, this time settling into a pattern that is just light enough that you know it’ll drive you mad.

“Bradshaw! Let’s go!”

Rooster stands up, idly brushing sand from his shorts, sunglasses snug on his stupidly handsome face. “Be good.”

What follows is the longest, most tortuous game of dogfight football probably ever. It feels like Bradley purposefully lets the other team win the second game to force a tiebreaker, all while fiddling with his phone. By the time the third game wraps and everyone makes their way to the cooler, you’re flushed and covered in beads of sweat.

Ever observant, Phoenix clocks the shake in your hand as you pass her a water bottle. Her brow furrows. “You feeling alright?”

You open your mouth to tell her you’re okay, but nothing comes out.

“Hey, Roo!” someone echos, “your girl’s looking a little flushed. She okay?”

Bradley takes a knee at your side, offering you his water like that’ll help. “You okay, baby?” And because talking hadn’t worked for you so well last time, you glare. Or try to. You’re unable to hold it. There’s no real fire behind the look—desperation and oversensitivity set in a while ago.

“Might be heatstroke,” Fanboy suggests. “Have you been drinking enough water?”

“Yeah, I just–” you cut yourself off, eyes slamming shut as the rhythmic pulsing switches up again. Blindly, you smack Bradley’s hand away from his phone. “Take me home.”

“Alright, baby,” Bradley smiles, gathering you in his strong arms. “I’ve got ya.”

#thirsty answers #thirsty's smut prompt list #the long overdue 801 follower celebration #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x f!reader #rooster x reader #top gun smut prompt #top gun smut #user: tngrace #requests are still closed

[callsignthirsty]

this request was made as a part of my 801 follower celebration on another platform and I'm crossposting it here.

nonnie — if you ever end up on tumblr, here it is again.

Pairing: Ron "Slider" Kerner x F!reader Word Count: 897 Warnings: mentioned/alluded p in v Minors DNI

Smut Prompts #1 & #53

Slider isn’t one to waste time, so you’re not startled when he pins you to the wall the second you both make it into your place. It’s been a long nine months since you’ve seen each other, so you’re not complaining as you thread your fingers through his hair and rock onto your tiptoes as Sli pulls you closer.

The hand not in his hair holds him tight enough that your fist aches, knuckles bleached white. Loathe to let him go so soon after he’s gotten home. Slider isn’t much better. Once your lips are suitably kiss-stung, he sets about making you look as indecent for your next shift as possible. Worrying the skin of your neck between his teeth. Your breath hitching as he sucks a deep bruise right over your fluttering pulse.

“Mmm,” you groan, tugging on Slider’s hair to try and dislodge him from your neck, but it only encourages him to move his lips lower, nuzzling the collar of your shirt to the side so he can litter your collarbone with matching marks. “Sli, that’s enough.”

The first hint of stubble adds to the blush-like hue of his affection on sensitive skin. “You know, you look so much better when I mark you up,” he rasps.

You drop to your heels without warning, his lips unable to follow the sudden change in your height. From beneath thick lashes, you meet his eyes and lick your lips. “Want you to kiss me.” He cradles the back of your head in his palm and grants you your wish. Stealing your breath with eager kisses, tipping your head back and letting his lips wander lower once more when he gets your shirt off. Incorrigible.

“I’m gonna look like a leopard with all these spots, Ron,” you whimper. A trail of splotchy red hickeys mark Slider’s path down your abdomen—your nipples teased to stiff peaks, one haloed by the indent of overeager teeth. Then, as he lowers himself to work your pants open, you huff: “How come I’m the only one getting naked?” Slider isn’t the only one who’d been lonely all those months.

“I see myself naked every day,” Slider purrs, pressing a deceptively soft kiss below your belly button. “I’m much more interested in getting you out of your clothes.”

Your eyes slip closed. “Sweet talker.”

But Slider is startled to a stop when he begins to tug your panties down. You yelp, eyes snapping open with the sharp sting of elastic when he lets go of your waistband. His thumb absently rubs over the imprint from your panties while he does a double-take. “Is that a tattoo?”

The thing about deployments is that they’re long.

There had only been so much distraction the diamond on your finger could supply. So when the season shifted from winter to spring, and the reality of buying a house with Ron steadily crept closer, you’d gone a little mad and cleaned your small apartment both for peace of mind and in preparation for your move. During a particularly productive round of spring cleaning, you’d come across a stash of letters that you and Slider had exchanged at the beginning of your relationship and while he was deployed—the stack from his most recent stint on the Enterprise in a box by your desk.

It took you a while for your fingers to brush a well-worn envelope. You opened it carefully, the paper brittle with its well-loved edges and beginning to tear at the folds. Your favorite part sits about halfway down: I love you. You still remember how it felt to read those three words for the first time. The lightness. Warm tears tracking down your cheeks as you giggled. The warmth of knowing your feelings were returned. How you’d immediately run to your phone to gush about the letter and its contents to your best friend (who also screamed). So wrapped up in the phone cable and the euphoria of it all that you were dizzy.

The nostalgia caught you in a chokehold and hadn’t let go. In hindsight, it may have been a rash decision, but you’d brought the letter to an artist in downtown San Diego and gotten those three words permanently penned into your hip. A place no one else had seen until this moment.

A smirk cracks your lips. “Look familiar?”

“Looks hot.” Slider runs his finger over the script, then his lips. A ghost of a touch. Tender. But the tattoo, long since healed, is untextured. Supple like the rest of you. “Is it the real deal?”

You cup his cheeks, tilting his head back to meet his eyes—they’ve still got that twinkle in them, but they’re softer now. The urge to press a kiss to his forehead flickers at the forefront of your mind. “Real as the ring.”

Slider groans, pressing a kiss to the inside of your wrist, then your hip. Nipping at the thin skin next to his penmanship before soothing it with his tongue as if he could taste the ink embedded in your skin.

The night is spent not-so-slowly taking each other apart. Lips and teeth and tongues. The passionate slip of sweat-slick skin. Slider’s muscles bunch beneath your touch as you’re filled repeatedly. And through it all, he holds you close—grip tight enough to adorn you in finger-shaped, ruby-red bruises—and runs his thumb over those three words.

#thirsty answers #thirsty's smut prompt list #the long overdue 801 follower celebration #ron slider kerner x female!reader #ron slider kerner x reader #ron slider kerner #slider x reader #top gun smut prompts #user: nonnie #user: non-tumblr nonnie #requests are still closed