#rod rooster

[top-wing]

Floof

Ay, it's better than wet feathers, no?

[kingoftheu]

In the Gilliganverse there is a furious debate about whether the Chicken Brothers mascots at Los Pollos Hermanos are actually brothers or if they are gay.

[l2bbocsstuff]

This is indelibly etched into my childhood.

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 38 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You and Bradley spend some family time fishing on the boat, followed by some private time just for the two of you. But after a dreamy afternoon, you want to return to the lake house and see Noah before bedtime. Then you get distracted by what you see on Bradley's phone.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, smut, pregnancy talk, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Bradley had never seen anyone get so happy about an earthworm before. Noah thought they were hilarious, and he made a mess on the floor of the boat, playing with them while everyone else was fishing. 

"Hey, Bub, can I have one of the worms to use as bait?" Bradley asked him when he checked his hook to see that it was empty. There were a few other boats out in the middle of Big Bear Lake, and it was just a beautiful day to spend with everyone. 

"Here," Noah picked one up and handed it to Bradley. "Feed the fish, Daddy."

"Thank you," he replied, bending to kiss his son on the head and accept the worm. 

"I need one, too," you said, holding out your hook for Bradley. You were not as delighted by the worms as Noah was. Bradley knew he'd be the one cleaning up the mess later, but it didn't matter. Amelia was sunbathing, Penny was reading, and Mav was the only one catching any fish. But everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Once Bradley got you set up with fresh bait, you stepped a little closer to him and whispered, "Thanks, Daddy." And it was like he was back in bed with you. The way he wanted to touch you right now as you ran your fingers along his thigh was indecent. You were wearing the tiniest dress he'd ever seen with your bathing suit on underneath it, and Bradley slid his sunglasses down to look at you. 

"I need you to behave," he replied softly enough that nobody else could hear him over the radio playing. "You'll get it later."

You whimpered softly. "That's your Daddy voice."

"Later," he told you firmly with a smirk. He knew what he was doing. Amelia, Maverick and Penny already offered to take Noah back for an afternoon nap so you and he could have the boat alone for a bit, and then he would do anything you wanted. The two of you could watch the sun set and drink some of the weird seltzers you packed. Bradley could hold you on his lap just the way he liked where you looked at him and talked to him like you'd never need anything else but him. 

Then he felt something tugging his line as he started reeling it in. "Noah! I got a fish! Come help me!" Noah scrambled over to where Bradley was sure he had hooked a fish, and he placed Noah's little hand beneath his own so he could help reel it in. 

"Did it eat the worm?" Noah asked, his little arm pumping as fast as it could with Bradley's. 

"Maybe," he replied as you knelt down next to them to cheer them on. Even Amelia came over to see how big it was as it came to the surface, wiggling around all over the place. 

"I don't know if it's a keeper," Maverick said as he reached for his measuring tape. 

Noah was cackling as the fish splashed water up on his face. "It ate the worm! It ate the worm!" 

"It's not big enough," Maverick confirmed, and Bradley handed you the rod so he could take the fish off and return it to the water. 

"We can't keep this one, Bub," Bradley told him as he untangled the hook. "Sorry." He dipped the fish back into the lake and then let it swim away.

Noah's eyes suddenly filled with tears. "We can't have a dog or a fish?"

Now you and Noah were both looking up at him with the saddest eyes he'd ever seen. "We just want a pet," you whispered, kissing Noah's chubby cheek.

"Good Lord," Bradley muttered, and you cracked a smile. "Noah, that's not even the kind of fish you can keep as a pet. It's too big to have at home. Pet fish are like little goldfish from the pet store."

"Maybe we can get him a beta fish for his room?" you asked as everyone else returned to their previous activities. 

"Maybe," Bradley grunted. "Jesus, I think I'd rather have a dog than have to keep flushing fish and trying to find identical looking ones to replace it with."

"Yay!" you chanted, picking Noah up and instantly making him smile. "I think it's working." Then you pulled the wet wipes out of your bag and cleaned him up before letting him sit up on the top part of the boat and eat his sandwich. Bradley made a mental note to look up which dog breeds didn't shed.

----------------------------

You sat on the plush bench and waved to everyone else while Bradley slowly pulled the boat away from the dock. Amelia and Penny were holding the empty cooler. Noah was perched up on Maverick's shoulders wearing his aviators and shouting, "Bye, Mommy! Bye, Daddy!" You blew him a kiss and watched them start walking back up to the house.

The afternoon sun was hot on your skin but the rush of air was keeping you cool as you leaned back and closed your eyes. You weren't going to be able to hide your desire for Bradley, your body was already thrumming with need. When you opened your eyes and pulled your legs up onto the bench so you could undo your sandals, your eyes caught on Bradley's broad back and shoulders. The wind was whipping through his hair as he stood in front of the captain's chair and steered the boat to a quieter, more secluded part of the lake. 

When he eased back on the throttle and the engine noise quieted a bit, you stood and wrapped your arm around his waist from behind. Bradley tucked you against his side with a smile before sliding you to stand right in front of him. "Why don't you steer for a while? I got some other things I want to do."

He guided one of your hands up to the wheel and placed your other hand on the throttle, and then his big hands found their way to your body. He swayed behind you to the motion of the boat as you steered along the shoreline on the far side of the lake where there were fewer houses. Bradley bunched the fabric of your dress up in both of his hands as he squeezed your waist through your dress. "I love you, Princess," he murmured against your neck and bare shoulder. 

You leaned back into his warmth and asked, "How do we stop the boat?"

Bradley covered your hand on the throttle with his and eased it all the way down until the engine died, his lips never leaving your skin. And now you felt warm everywhere as the sun beat down on your bodies and glittered off the water. The boat drifted gently along toward the middle of the lake as Bradley murmured, "I can't believe you have me considering getting a dog. What have you done to me?"

You spun in his arms and laughed. "That was all Noah."

"Nah, it was you, too. And you know it."

"You're just a big softie for us," you whispered as a bead of sweat trickled down your back at the same time you felt goosebumps on your legs. Bradley reached down for the hem of your sundress and started to guide the fabric up to your hips. 

"If we have a baby," he rasped, "it'll just get worse. I'll be outnumbered three to one."

"Four to one if there's a dog involved," you added, nodding helpfully. 

"Four to one?" He pulled your dress off, leaving you standing there in your purple bikini that didn't leave a whole lot to the imagination. "Can't I at least have the dog on my side?"

"You can try." You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him. "Good luck with that."

"Well shit," he grunted, pressing himself against your belly. He was already hard, but you were enjoying the way his fingers were trailing slowly down your back like he wasn't in a rush. "Looks like I'm just a big softie after all."

You nodded solemnly. "There's nothing that can be done for you, Daddy. But at least you're hard where it counts." He smirked when you squeezed him through his bathing suit. 

"That's just for you, too." You could feel him untying the knot in your bathing suit straps along the middle of your back before bringing his rough hands around to cup your bare breasts as the top hung off of your neck. "And these are mine."

"Yes, Daddy." You tried to return his kisses, but your head tipped back, and you moaned as he teased you. He stroked the undersides of your breasts so gently before bringing his thumbs up to pinch your nipples and then soothing them. "Oh god," you moaned as he pinched you again. 

You clenched hard around nothing as Bradley leaned down to run his nose and mustache along your jaw. "You're always so sensitive for me. You gonna make me beg for this right now?" 

"You don't have to beg," you moaned as his right hand came up to stroke your cheek before he untied your suit bottoms and let them fall to your feet. You could feel his fingers press against your clit before sliding down to your opening, and his lips met your ear. 

"You're such a good girl."

You could barely think when he talked to you like this and touched you just right. He'd spend all day working you up and getting you off if you told him you wanted him to. You knew he would. You knew he'd take care of you in every way. You knew he loved you. You'd never had anything even close to this, and now you'd never want anything else. 

On shaky legs, you managed to push him back onto the captain's chair and scramble up onto his lap. "Daddy," you panted softly before pressing your lips to his and rubbing your soaking wet pussy on his hard cock through his bathing suit. He'd reduced your vocabulary to just that one word. "Daddy."

Bradley seemed to understand that you needed him as he lifted his hips up and pulled his cock free, and you were sinking down around him before he was even seated again. "Oh, yeah," he groaned as he carefully untied the last knot at the back of your neck and let your bikini top join your bottoms. "Mine."

His hands on your hips only let you move at the slowest pace that left you a little dizzy as his mouth found your breasts. So you ran your hands up his strong arms to his shoulders and held on as he took everything nice and slow. You could barely focus on your surroundings long enough to determine if anyone was closeby to see the two of you fucking. 

"What if somebody....?"

He released your nipple with a pop and said, "They can't see us, Baby." Then he kissed his way up your chest to your neck, and he groaned as your pussy squeezed around him. "Fuck."

"Feels good," you whispered, still rocking at that deliciously slow tempo as he brought his lips up to meet yours. Playful kisses and nibbles led to the soft sweep of his tongue against yours as you played with his hair. Every few strokes of his cock left you fluttering around him. "Oh. Oh!" you gasped, a little surprised and bashful at how your orgasm was creeping up on you. And about how strong it was. 

Bradley broke the kiss so he could watch your face in awe as you suddenly keened loudly, rolling your hips. Rolling. Squeezing. He was hitting every sensitive spot inside you with his pretty cock, and your clit rubbed his coarse, trimmed hairs until you were shaking. Your toes curled. Your fingers shook as you tried to hold onto him. Your head lulled back as you came and came. 

And those big hands on your hips guided you through the whole thing.

"Princess," Bradley groaned, his eyes squeezing shut in pleasure as his forehead creased almost like he was in pain. "Oh, fuck. Baby!" He pushed himself deeper up into you as he filled you with cum, and you let your cheek rest on his warm shoulder, unable to hold yourself up any longer. 

He held you tight as he panted, stroking his fingers down your back and making you shiver. Your name was a whisper on his lips as he told you he loved you, and he kept himself buried inside you like he needed to feel close. No, you'd never want anything else. 

------------------------

You were a little sweaty and sticky from his cum dripping down your legs as Bradley helped you stand up. "I have an idea," he murmured, brushing his fingers along your shoulder and kissing your forehead softly. You looked like you were still in a daze as you glanced around in every direction to make sure there was still nobody else around. God, you looked like he'd just fucked you to within an inch of your life, when in reality he'd just led you through a slow-build orgasm that left you practically screaming for him. 

He kissed your cheek one more time before he stripped out of his swim trunks and climbed up onto the edge of the boat, jumping into the crystal clear lake. The water felt freezing on his overheated skin, and he laughed as you finally seemed to snap out of your daze.

"You coming in?" he asked as he pushed his hair away from his forehead and started to tread water. 

"Is it cold?"

He kind of shrugged and said, "Feels great. Would feel even better if you were in here with me."

Bradley watched you climb awkwardly up onto the edge and scream as you jumped in, your gorgeous body fully on display for him. He watched you go under and then come up sputtering. "It's freezing, you liar!"

He chuckled and swam over to you, and then he wrapped you in his arms and kissed your fingers and your purple painted nails. "We'll get out in a minute, and I'll wrap you up in a towel and snuggle with you on the bench."

"Yes," you agreed immediately. "I want that now."

Bradley let you swim back to the boat, and he helped you push yourself out of the water so you could wrap yourself in a towel. But he swam a few laps around the boat as he thought about your cum-filled pussy and what that might mean for him if he kept it up. It brought a smile to his face every time he thought about making the other bedroom into a nursery. You were teaching Noah how to read, and pretty soon he might be practicing reading to his baby sibling. Bradley loved the idea of all of it. Even the goddamn dog. 

When he pulled himself up into the boat, you reached out and handed him the other towel. "Thanks, Baby," he said, and you snuggled back sheepishly into your oversize towel on the bench. He walked to the cooler, dripping water along the way as he wrapped the towel around his waist. "What's wrong?" he asked, digging around for the snack he brought. 

"Nothing," you murmured as his hand closed around the bag. 

He plopped down on the bench with a foot of space between your bodies. "Sounds like something."

You bit your lip and said, "It's embarrassing."

"What is?" he asked, setting the bag down and focusing on you. "What could have embarrassed you?"

You rolled your eyes and looked up at the sky which was turning an array of colors as the sun approached the horizon. "My response to you. I know I don't have as much experience as you do, but you pretty much always manage to make me come... and you had me practically screaming just now. And we were barely moving."

"Hey," Bradley whispered. "That was the fucking hottest thing. Nothing to be embarrassed about." When you didn't respond, he said, "It's not just you. Yeah, you're sensitive for me, and I love using that to my advantage. But you make me wild like nobody else ever has."

"Really?" you asked, lowering the towel from your face a few inches. "I do?"

"Baby, you almost made me cum in my pants last week. And the first time you gave me head? I thought I was going to pass out or potentially die. That's how turned on I get."

"That's good," you said softly, grinning. "I like being on an even playing field with you."

Bradley reached for the bag of Skittles and said, "I have some more bait."

"You're going to try to catch more fish right now?" you asked, shifting on the bench. 

He shook his head. "I'm not here to catch a fish right now. I'm here to catch a Princess."

"You already caught one," you replied with a laugh.

Bradley held up the bag and shook it gently as a bright smile filled your features. "Just to be sure...."

"Yeah," you whispered as he tore the bag open, "that's the right kind of bait." You crawled across the bench and climbed onto his lap. He welcomed you there as you straddled his thigh and parted your lips. Bradley groaned as he shook a yellow Skittle out of the bag and ran it along your bottom lip before gently setting it on your tongue. You were young and beautiful which was exciting, but you were also smart and strong and loving. And Bradley wanted to take care of this connection with you so it would always be here. 

He kissed you as you slowly chewed your Skittle. "That's a good girl. Take the bait," he said with a laugh, repeating the process with a red one and a purple one. 

"And that's your Daddy voice again," you whispered as he fed you more candy.

"Just practicing for when I'm your Daddy and Noah's Daddy and another little one's Daddy."

You ran your nose along his as you smiled and whispered, "Don't forget about the dog."

The sun set with you wrapped in your towel on his lap and your head on his shoulder. You chewed up the last piece of candy just as Bradley whispered that it was getting dark and you needed to head back. He helped you slip your dress back on, and he steered the boat back to the dock with you nestled against his body. "I kind of want this forever," he murmured.

"Me too."

------------------------

You and Bradley finally made it back to the dock in the semidarkness. It took you a few times to tie everything down correctly as you laughed. You felt like you were on a bit of a sugar rush from the Skittles, and you giggled when Bradley said, "Holy shit. We almost forgot your bathing suit."

He jumped back onto the boat from the dock as you held up his phone flashlight so he could see. "It wouldn't have been the end of the world if we left it here."

"Yes, it would," he replied, bending down near the captain's chair to retrieve both pieces. "What would you spend all summer sunbathing in on our deck at home?"

"Nothing at all," you said, and he dropped your bikini top and had to pick it up again. 

"Shit," he grunted while you laughed, and your fingers slipped on his phone. You gasped and caught it in both hands, accidentally opening up his web browser which was filled with open tabs to diamond engagement rings. Your jaw dropped as you looked at rings more beautiful than anything you'd ever seen before. Bradley had apparently even taken a quiz titled Which engagement ring is perfect for my future wife?

Future wife. He'd talked about it before. Mentioned a ring and a future and security. You were in his will. He let Noah call you his mommy. He wanted to get married. But you almost dropped the phone again when you noticed a tab that said baby girl names.

"We almost forgot our trash, too," Bradley said as he climbed back onto the dock, holding up the Skittles wrapper along with your bathing suit. 

You were in a daze as you murmured, "Don't call Skittles wrappers trash. They serve a very important role by delivering delicious treats to princesses."

"Oh, you're right. I'm sorry," he said with a bit of an eye roll as he squatted down in front of you and helped you buckle your sandals for the walk back to the house. "It's not just common trash. It's a symbol of royalty."

"That's right," you whispered. You had his face partially illuminated by the flashlight as you scrolled through some of the baby names before closing out of the browser. He was taking all of this very seriously. You should have known he would; as soon as he'd deleted that dating app from his phone, he was all in. All yours.

You handed him back his phone when he stood, and you launched yourself into his arms. He kissed you and rubbed your back through your dress. You could hear his stomach growling which made you smile even more as you kissed your words against his lips. "I love you."

His response was a deep, soft rumble at the back of his throat. "I love you too, Princess."

"Let's go eat dinner and see Noah." He seemed to like your response, rewarding you with so many kisses on the short walk back to the house. But when you arrived, it was later than you anticipated. Maverick was asleep on the couch next to the Christmas tree, Amelia was eating Christmas cookies, and Penny was reading the end of her book. 

"Noah's already asleep," she whispered. "I gave him a bath, and then he was closing his eyes before his head hit the pillow. We grilled dinner. Grab some leftover burgers and hot dogs from the kitchen if you want," she added with a smirk.

At least she didn't comment on how messy Bradley's hair looked or the fact that he was carrying your bathing suit in his big hand when you used to be wearing it under your dress. "Sounds good," you whispered, and Bradley followed you into the kitchen. You watched him eat a handful of cookies while you heated up some of the leftovers from dinner. Then he inhaled two burgers and a hot dog while you ate one burger. 

"You were starving," you said with a laugh, noting that he looked very relaxed although tired. 

"I was," he groaned, eating another cookie. "Sun, sex and boating. Oh man. Wiped me right out."

"You're a simple man," you said, pushing him down the hallway toward your bedroom and the ensuite bathroom. "Let's take a shower."

You let Bradley wash your body with his big, soapy hands as he hummed his favorite song against your skin. Your belly was full and your senses were overwhelmed by his voice and the lemon scented soap and the steamy shower. You were yawning as he carried you to the bed, your skin still a little damp as you climbed naked under the covers with his body at your back. He was impossibly warm, fingers laced with yours, legs tangled together. 

"Love you," he murmured, kissing your shoulder. 

You thought about his phone as you brought your hand along with his to rest against your belly. "If we have a baby," you asked softly, "do you think you'd want a boy or a girl?"

"Mmm. Don't care," he replied right away, and he sounded like he was already starting to fall asleep. "But a girl would be nice."

---------------------------

The way I want to live in this chapter. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 39

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[sometimesanalice]

Seeing Double

Summary: Two weeks had felt like more than enough time to come up with something. And now you’re costumeless and in a panic less than a couple of hours before you’re supposed to be meeting your boyfriend’s closest friends. You’re ready to call it quits when you’re suddenly hit with a burst of inspiration.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 6k

Warnings: fluff, allusions to smut, and Bradley Bradshaw in short-shorts (minors dni)

(This fic is a one-shot that is set before the Oh Christmas Tree, but you can read it on its own! Enjoy 🧡)

Looking at your closet, filled with everything and yet absolutely nothing, you’re beginning to realize just how totally and royally screwed you are.

The thing is you’d had time. More than enough time, in fact.

When Bradley had first invited you to go with him to this Halloween party, two weeks had seemed like plenty of time to concoct the perfect costume.

And then the more you’d thought about it, the more you’d overthought it, the more annoyed you’d gotten for overthinking it. A vicious spiral that not even hours of searching on Pinterest had helped to pull you from.

One that had left you costumeless for a party that was supposed to start in less than two hours with all of your boyfriend’s friends.

Fuck.

It was one outfit for one evening. You should probably be more concerned about Ciara from Marketing and her not-so-subtle scheming than what you were going to put on your body for the next five or so hours.

As you a sift through your perfectly color coordinated clothes, dragging hangers across the closet rod as if you’ve been personally victimized by the wardrobe you’d bought with your own money, you can’t help but wonder if you might have some self-sabotaging tendencies.

Bradley Bradshaw had snuck up on you when you were least expecting it. And what you thought was just going to be some summer fun had quickly turned into something more.

More often than not, you were thinking of him.

More often than not, he was texting you throughout the day.

More often than not, you were sharing a bed with him at night.

The last three, almost four, months had flown by in a summer haze and you liked Rooster more than any other man you had dated in the past.

You might even love him, but that was something you were keeping close to your chest for now. It felt too soon to be feeling the way you did about him.

He was more than just the pretty face and easygoing smile that had swayed you into giving him your number. He was more than just a fun night out and some no-strings-attached-yet-mind-blowing sex that you had tried to convince yourself it was.

He’d made it impossible for you to try and keep it casual in the way that he’d thoroughly swept you off your feet. You’d given up trying to keep him at arm’s length after your fifth date with him.

If you couldn’t beat him, you might as well join him. And so far, it was a gamble with your heart that was paying off.

Which was probably why you had given yourself the world’s worst mental block trying to figure out a costume to wear.

You’d met a few of his friends, like Natasha and Jake, during the nights he’d taken you to the Hard Deck. He’d told you that after one of their missions earlier in the year, the members on the squad had been in high demand. But this was the first time you’d be hanging out with them all at once.

So yeah, you were more than a little nervous about this evening.

And you didn’t just want to make a good impression, you wanted to absolutely charm and delight them. These people were so important to him, they were his family. They mattered to him and he mattered to you.

You pull out a black cocktail dress and debate whether you could pull together a Breakfast at Tiffany’s look with the pearls your grandmother had left you. It was a classic for a reason, right?

Or did it make you look like you were trying too hard? She was basically a callgirl after all.

The formfitting little dress goes back on the rack with a little more force than is necessary.

It’s just a causal get together, so why are your palms sweating?

You eye a silky pink slip dress and think about pairing it with one of your overpriced sleep mask. But you think you’d look less like you were flirty, thirty, and thriving and more like you forgotten to get dressed after rolling out of bed.

There are still a couple of cozy plaid button ups that you’d brought with you from home, but unless you carried around a roll of paper towels all night, it was an idea that might get you a more than a few perplexed looks. And there was nothing worse than having to explain your outfit for it to make sense to people.

Or worse, you’d be the one cleaning up spills all night.

You wanted your effort to look effortless.

Cool but not try hard. Thought through but not over the top.

You remember seeing some friend of a friend’s post from last weekend where she was dressed as Kim Possible. Green pants and a black top feel very doable. And she’d looked very cute and low maintenance, which was just the kind of vibe you were going for.

Remembering a pair of green khakis your sister had somehow talked you into the last time she came to visit, you go to your dresser and yank out the drawer you think they’d be in and toss it on the floor. You’re over trying to keep some semblance of order, that’s a problem for future you to deal with now.

Digging around in the pile, you will a flash of olive green to appear before your eyes. And when the items formerly nicely folded drawer and nothing but a heap of wrinkled, olive green-less chaos, you’re hit with the realization that the khakis that had seemed like a bad idea when you’d first gotten them had felt like a bad idea every time you looked at them and they’d ended up in the donation pile during your last closet purge.

You flop down and take in the carnage.

Half open drawers, random tops and skirts flung on your bed, the perfect rainbow of your closet now some technicolored disarray.

You’re almost afraid to pull out your phone to look at the clock, that pressure growing in your chest keeps getting worse. You can almost feel each individual second as they tick by. Glancing down you see that there’s a new message from Bradley, one that you missed in your frenzy to find something, anything to wear tonight.

Bradley, 9:52 AM: That wake up was worth the extra pushups I had to do for being late.

Bradley, 11:10 AM: Did I leave my shirt at your place this morning?

You, 12:22 PM: I’ll check when I get home and let you know. But I’m sure it’s there since I vividly remember the way you took it off last night.  

You, 12:23 PM: And you only have yourself to blame for those pushups. (PS. I told you what time it was before I got in the shower, you were the one who invited yourself to join. PPS. I liked that thing you did with the shower head)

Bradley, 2:37 PM: As I said, worth it (PS pretty sure the only thing I heard you chanting was my name. Also I just ordered a new shower head for my place, one with a fancy handheld and everything)

You, 3:04 PM: I guess I’ll have to wake you up with my mouth more often then. (PS. just curious how many settings does it have? Asking for a friend.)

Bradley, 3:10 PM: Jesus Sweetheart, I’m up next to do a hop… (PS more than enough, and by enough, I mean 7)

You, 3:10 PM: 😘 (PS. can’t wait, I’m more than happy to product test)

Bradley, 3:11 PM: Yeah, I bet you are...

You, 3:11 PM: (Want to know the best part of working from home? I can get off any time I want. Have fun flying with that hard-on, Roos.)

Bradley, 3:12 PM: Baby, you’re killing me here

You, 3:12 PM: Fly safe ❤️

🔴 Bradley, 6:14 PM: Just got home, I can’t wait to see you tonight. What time should I pick you up? You might have to come down though, I don’t know if they’d let me in...

Skimming the previous messages from earlier in the day helps relieve some of the anxious energy that was thrumming in your veins. Because he’s just so Bradley.

He hadn’t been the only one who got to work late this morning. You’d actually worked from the office that day, but it had been more fun to tease him from your desk than draft the internal communications you were supposed to be working on.

The original plan had been to work a half day and then leave early and figure out your costume situation. But then you’d been pulled into an emergency PR meeting on your way out the door for one of the company’s biggest clients and had got home much, much later than you’d planned to.

You’d spotted Rooster’s shirt crumpled on the floor by the foot of your bed, from where he’d shucked it off the night before, the second you’d flown into your bedroom. Now it is carefully draped against the back of the soft blue tufted chair in the corner of your room. It was a colorful patchwork of beach themed vignettes in soft corals, teals, and dark blues. In addition to the palm trees and foliage, there were also planes and ships on it.

It was one of your favorites because you always felt like you were finding something new on it every time he wore it.

He’d told you once early on when you’d first gotten serious, after you’d teased him about his seemingly endless supply, that he’d even gotten curious one drunken night and looked up the resale value on some of his favorites and was shocked at the numbers. That it had taken him a month to put one back on because he didn’t want to ruin any of them on accident, now that he knew what exactly his father had left him.

You knew how much Bradley valued his collection, what they meant to him. You were even watching a few vintage ones in nice condition on Ebay to give him for Christmas.

Letting out a ragged sigh, you look back at the pile on the ground.

You’ve always prided yourself on being a problem solver. And the one time you needed to spring into action with a pivot plan is the one time you’re at a complete loss. You felt paralyzed by indecision and the kind of pressure that only you could put on yourself, which made everything that much more frustrating.

How you had kept the novelty six-pack tank top you’d taken home from a White Elephant exchange, but donated the green khaki pants was beyond you.

Out of the two, one would have been much more practical in this particular moment.

You pick it up off the floor and feel the fabric between your fingers. It was surprisingly soft for something that you’d expect to feel like sandpaper no matter how many times it got washed.

That tank top had never seen the light of day, yet always seemed to make it through your yearly purge unscathed. Probably solely on the fact that it made you giggle whenever you saw it. You always forgot about it, but it was a happy surprise when you pulled it out from where it was tucked away in the back of your dresser drawer.

You let it fall back onto the top of the pile.

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard of your phone as you try to figure out what to say to Bradley, as you look back and forth between your mountainous mess and the empty text box.

You know you could call him and he’d pick up before the third ring. You knew you could text him and he would reply the moment he could. And you know, if you told him you were stressed about meeting all of his friends and wanting to impress them, to impress him, that he would understand. He’d tell you- in that soothing way of his- to not worry about it, that you could just wear whatever made you comfortable, no costume necessary.

He’d probably even ditch his own so that you weren’t the only one there in normal clothes, even though he’d been dropping teasing hint about his for days now. He was so excited for tonight, you didn’t want to bring the vibe down before you’d even arrived.

You close your eyes and allow yourself a couple moments to reset.

What you wore didn’t matter. But whatever you wore, you were going to have a great time with Bradley and the people he cared about. And that was the only thing that mattered to you.

You could throw on your little black dress, or a red and white striped sweater with a pair of glasses, or some skintight leggings and a leather jacket. But it didn’t matter because it was all going to end the same way: with you tipsy and giddy and in Rooster’s bed.

Already feeling much better you open your eyes again.

You’re greeted again with those perfectly sculpted abs of that silly little tank top that still sits on top of the mound of clothes on your floor. But out of the corner of you eye, those cheerful colors adorning your chair in the corner wink out at you.

The glimmer of an idea settles over you like stardust.

It’s on that the more you sit with, the more perfectly solidified it becomes in your mind. Oh, you can see it so clearly now.

It’s an idea that makes you feel like you could bubble over in excitement.

You shoot off a quick text to Rooster and set about grabbing all the things you needed. You’d be a little late, but not terribly so. Fashionably late.

And you’re hopeful it’ll be worth the last-minute change of plans.

There was only one thing you needed that you didn’t already have, and you knew just where you’d be able to find it.

Just a quick little pit stop on the way to the party.

On your way to Bradley.

When Rooster parked in front of Fanboy and Payback’s place he shouldn’t have been surprised to see the Spanish-style house they rented together absolutely covered in every type of decoration imaginable.  

He’d heard Reuben moan and groan about it enough over the last few weeks.

Halloween was Mickey’s favorite holiday and there was nothing more he loved than going all out on a theme. It didn’t matter if it was St Patrick’s Day or National Cheeseburger Day, he always committed.

They’d all be pulled into the argument about whether or not a faux body bag filled with empty bottles should be strung up on the front porch. Fanboy lost that one by a mere two votes. And Bob had been the one to broker the peace by suggesting they make some ghosts to hang up instead.

Dozens of glowing pumpkin lanterns hung from the trees outside and lined the pathway up to the front door. The bushes were wrapped in fibrous looking cobweb material as lights flickered and flashed underneath them. There was a fog machine hidden somewhere because wisps of smoke were curling and crawling along the lawn. Custom gravestones littered the yard along with a few well-placed plastic skeletons. The front of the porch was filled with more pumpkins of various sizes and shapes and colors as well as those truce ghosts and a few oversized bats swaying in the chilly October night breeze.

Rooster wasted no time letting himself in the glowing entryway, rubbing his arms as he hustled to get inside. Normally he ran warm, but he’d been covered in goosebumps from the moment he’d gotten out of the Bronco.

His costume had earned him more than a few wolf whistles when he had stopped to get gas. He’d simply shot them a wink and a smirk as he’d strut past them to go inside and pay.

He looked damn good.

But there was only one person he’d wanted to show off this outfit to.

He didn’t know how it was possible but the inside was even more decorated than the outside of their place was.

There were stands and strands of colorful string lights in black, purple, and orange strung across the ceiling covered by gauzy black fabric. There were more cobwebs covering every exposed bit of the walls and flameless candles lining the floor of the hallway. And there was a mix of eerie forest sounds playing under the Halloween party soundtrack that Coyote had been roped into making for the night.

Bradley follows the hundreds of little plastic spiders decorated the wall leading him to the living room. And almost collides with someone as he rounds the corner.

The shorter man he’d nearly taken out had on an overly bleached and spiked wig with a goatee and was wearing more neon orange flames than any one person should be allowed to wear.

They were both eyeing each other waiting for the other person to lob the first comment.

Rooster sees the way Mav’s cheeks are twitching as he takes in the length of the shorts he was wearing and just how much leg he had on display.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s hear it, old man,” he says, reaching out and taking the drink from Mav’s hand and taking a swig from the mostly empty bottle before passing it back.

“Did they lower the drinking age and I missed the memo, kid?” Mav tosses back easily, pointing to Bradley’s clingy, red Rydell High School t-shirt. “Don’t need a Class A misdemeanor on my record, that file is already big enough on its own.”

“Laugh it up, Flavortown,” Bradley snorts, “You on your way out?”

“Yeah, just wanted to swing by for a minute before I go over to the Hard Deck to help Penny out for the night. She sent me with some treats too, they’re over on the table. Where’s your girl? I was hoping to see her before I left.”

“Oh, uh, she’s meeting me here. Said she got caught up in a last-minute meeting,” Bradley says rubbing the back of his neck. He was trying not to over think the text you’d sent him. “So what’s Penny dressing up as?”

Mav uses both hands and gestures to his costume, face flat.

“No shit,” Bradley laughs.

“Amelia hustled the both of us,” Mav says shaking his head fondly. “I’m telling you, kid, teenagers these days are a scary bunch.” He takes the last swig of his beer and passes the bottle to Bradley, patting him on the shoulder. “Make sure you and your girl try the candlestick cakes. The realistic ones are the ones that Penny made.”

“And the others?” Rooster asked with a smirk.

“Let’s just say I’m a better pilot than I am with a piping bag,” he says with a self-deprecating laugh. “Happy Halloween, Bradley.”

“See you on Sunday for brunch.”

He and his godfather exchange a hug before Pete strides out the door, giving him one more pat on the back before he leaves.

Rooster makes his way further into the living room and goes to check out the food situation and to grab a drink in hopes that it’ll help settle that anxious coil in the pit of his stomach.

He waves over to Fritz, Yale, and Omaha, who are dressed up as the Sanderson Sisters, as he makes his way to the dining room. Fritz has his arm draped over his wife’s shoulder who is dressed like a black cat and they’re all gathered around the keg in the kitchen like it’s a cauldron.

Under a display of floating candles, Fanboy and Payback’s dining table is filled to the brim with all kinds of party food. Breadsticks that looked like fingers, a charcuterie board being clutched by a skeleton, a carved pumpkin puking some kind of tasty looking dip, and rice krispies with an ungodly amount of red dye number forty wrapped up in plastic on Styrofoam trays. And of course, the candlestick cakes. It was obvious which one’s Penny had made and which were Mav’s handiwork.

He pops one in his mouth, making a mental note to text Penny about how good they are.

Off to the side there was a homemade cooler shaped like a coffin and a witch’s cauldron bubbling away with dry ice filled with something potent, if the patriotic punch from the Fourth of July was anything to go by.

He grabs one of the plastic syringes from the bowl that says free shots and sips it down easily, trying not to grimace at the ratio of tequila to cranberry cocktail, and then dropping the now empty syringe in the hazardous waste bucket that’s placed next to the bowl.

Checking out the inside of the cooler, he sees it’s been stocked with a good variety of beers and ciders, he even spots your favorite which he knows you’ll be excited about.

That is whenever you get here.

Bradley pulls out his phone from the back pocket of his tight-fitting shorts to see if there’s any new message from you yet.

No ETA, no update, no on my way. Nothing since his last text nearly forty minutes ago. He’s tempted to shoot you another one, but he doesn’t want to come across as overbearing.

Rooster knew you were a bit anxious about tonight, even though all his friends really liked you, but he was starting to think that maybe he might be deeper in this than you were. He was trying not to let his mind spiral about why you didn’t want him to pick you up, but the only thing he kept coming back to was that maybe you wanted a way to make an easy escape if you weren’t having a good time with him or his friends.

He was worried that you might have one foot out the door.

You’ve met most of his friends now, just at different times and never all at once.

After the Uranium Mission, their team quickly became very in-demand. Getting requests to join other training contingents, classified trials and testing of new tech in development, and smaller specialized missions. It’s very rare now that they’re all in the same place at the same time. It always feels like there’s always someone missing, they’re always going and doing.

His team has always been good about finding ways to let off steam.

Although, he’s been less frequently found behind the piano bench of the Hard Deck since he’s taking on a more starring role in your bedroom. His friends would tease him on base about keeping you to himself. But he wouldn’t apologize for wanting to spending all his free time with you than the people he already spent the majority of his days with. Bradley doesn’t want you to feel like he’s trying to keep you away from them, he just would rather soak up all of your attention than share you with everyone else.

He liked that you were his girl.

Sighing to himself, Rooster puts his phone back in his pocket and walks back out to the living room before anyone can accuse him of sulking.

Callie and her fiancée are dress up as Velma and Daphne and chatting away with Bob over by the fireplace that is filled with skulls and thick pillars of candles. Bob’s homemade chef’s hat is glowing lightly from the inside and showing the silhouette of a little rodent.

He watches as Fanboy in his Hamburglar costume heading over of the bathroom with a trash bag looking more than a little suspicious. Bradley is sure he has more than a few pranks up black and white striped sleeves tonight.

“Where’s your Sandy, Danny?” Nat asks, sliding up to him and passing him a beer.

“You know, I don’t actually know what she’s coming dressed as. She never gave me any hints,” he admits, taking a small sip as he takes in her costume. She’s got fluffy bunny ears on and her nose is painted pink. The only thing missing from her Lola Bunny ensemble is the basketball.

“Oh?” He can tell Phoenix is trying to school the surprise on her face. “I just figured with you wearing that and all.”

He just shrugs, his thumbnail picking at the label on the bottle.

Bradley had thought about floating a couple’s costume when he had invited you to come with him, but he pivoted at the last moment, not wanting to put pressure on you to agree to commit right away.

“Is she on her way?” Nat asks, looking at him out of the corner of her all too keen eyes.

“Hopefully, if she doesn’t change her mind,” he says ruefully.  

“Why would she do that? Did you do something to piss her off?”

“Not that I know of. I know I’m reading into things, but I was supposed to go pick her up and she texted me last minute saying that she’d meet me here instead. And I don’t know what to make of it, it just isn’t like her.”

“Is that why you’re standing here look like a sad puppy? You know I’ve never been able to get through those ASPCA commercial without them getting my credit card information. Can I read the text?”

“Sure, have at it,” he says, unlocking and handing over his phone to her. “Uh, just the last few though.” He tacks that last part on quickly and she just gives him a pointed lift of her sharp eyebrow.

He feels dumb watching Nat skim the texts, he knows he’s overthinking things. But he also knows he’s not going to feel better about any of it until you get here and he can see your face.

“She said she’ll be here, Bradshaw. I don’t know how else you’re reading into this, but I imagine the mental gymnastics must be getting tiring.”

Bradley huffs a laugh, because she’s right.

As always.

“Yeah, I know,” he sighs, running his hands through his hair, “It’s just- I really like her, Nat.”

“Oh, we know. You moon after her with those big cow eyes all the time” she teases, nudging her elbow against his ribs. “But I’ve also seen the way she moons after you too, so relax.”

He can’t fight the small smile that works its way onto his face. The idea of you watching him the same way he knows he looks at you when you’re not looking at him makes his chest fill with warmth.

Nat peers around him and he spins to see who’s just arrived.

“Jesus, Rooster. Aren’t you worried about your dick falling out of those? They’re indecent,” Jake drawls, looking every inch the action hero he thinks he is.

“Please,” Bradley says with a roll of his eyes, “You wish you could pull these off, Bagman. If you got it, flaunt it.”

“I’m flaunting plenty,” Jake counters as he flexes. His shirt is unbuttoned all the way to the waistband of his pants. Although, Bradley is pretty sure Indiana Jones at least had sleeves. “Once your girl sees these abs she might be my girl by the end of the night.”

Seresin shoots him a wink and struts away, the plastic whip on his hip bouncing with every step. Rooster just shakes his head after him, watching as he high fives Javy, who is dressed as The Rock complete with a fanny pack and chain around his neck, in greeting by the sliding glass door that leads to patio.

“I still can’t believe you use to date him,” he ribs Nat lightly.

She plucks his beer out of his hand, claiming it as her own in retaliation. “Me neither,” she grunts, but he hears the hint of affection in her voice.

“Hey, you two look great! Do you need anything?” Mickey asks enthusiastically. His shifty eyes and overly wide smile instantly making Bradley edgy.

“Where’d that trash bag you had earlier go, Fanboy?” he asks warily.

“That’s for me to know and Javy to find out about later,” Mickey says slyly.

Rooster and Nat exchange a look.

This was the thing he was worried about when Cyclone had announced the news earlier in the week that they’d all tentatively have the next couple of months off through the new year. A well-earned break. No extra assignments. No extra transfers or additional training seminars.

Mav had told him in confidence that there was one small deployment that might get approved near Thanksgiving and that he was going to pull some string to see what information he could find out about it. Bradley was hoping that you might ask him to come home with you and meet your parents, so he had his fingers crossed that his name was left off that list.

The mood on base was already light. Mickey and Javy had started a series of pranks against each other that had slowly been escalating over the last few days. And Rooster knew that this extroverted bunch would be leaning in at full force and cutting loose tonight.

“Can you do me a favor, man? Can you hold off on the pranks for an hour, I don’t want you guys to scare her off the second she walks through the door.”

“She’s met us, she knows how we are.”

“I think that’s that point,” Nat quips.

“She likes us and we like her, so what’s there to worry about?” Fanboy asks rhetorically.

“And not all at once,” Bradley mutters.

“Lighten up, Rooster! I’m sure she’ll get here soon. In the meantime, go have some of the Potion of Peril punch that I made. I promise we’ll be on our best behavior. I won’t even ask her to grab something from the fridge for me,” Fanboy says that last part with a concerning laugh as he scurries away.

“You won’t what? Wait, Fanboy, come back,” Rooster calls after Mickey. He sees Payback dressed as Marty McFly coming down the stairs, and catches him. “Reuben, hey, what’s in the fridge?”

“Mickey has been collecting all of our empty jars for weeks now. He filled the damn fridge with jars of heads. It scared the shit out of me the first time I saw all of them. I haven’t been able to find the open container of mayo for days, and I’m tired of eating dry sandwiches.” Payback lets out the biggest sigh and rolls his eyes before he leaves them making his way over towards Coyote and Hangman still by the patio.

“See, Nat? This is what I’m worried about. We’re a lot, in more ways than one.”

Bradley pulls out his phone again, probably for the fifth time since he’s arrived and begins working on a text to send her. There’s nothing wrong with a little heads up and if he can get a little update from you then he’ll consider it a win.

“Well, if it ain’t Rooster,” he hears Hangman call out from across the room.

“We just did this, man,” he tosses back, not bothering to look up from his phone.

“Hey! Bradshaw’s girl has got a better set of abs than he does!” someone else calls out.

That gets his attention.

“What the fuck are you guys talking about?” he grunts irritably, as he tries to put his phone back in his pocket.

He doesn’t get a response because Phoenix is already turning him towards the entryway, the room erupting in a series of hoots and hollers as the rest of the party takes notice of your costume.

You’re shifting a little on your feet under the attention, there’s a small shy smile on your face and you have your pretty eyes already trained on him.

Hangman wasn’t kidding when he said you had a better set of abs than him.

You’re wearing a pair of frayed light blue denim shorts with a truly impressive screen-printed washboard stomach is on full display tucked into them. Over that you had on the Hawaiian print shirt he’d left at your place on accident this morning, it was one of his favorites with all its bright colors, along with a pair of sunglasses dangling from the pocket.

There was no mistaking who you’ve come dressed up as, not with that striking press-on mustache you were wearing.

It’s all he can do to just stand there and stare at you.

You’ve always been so damn beautiful, and even with a felt mustache on your face, you can make his heart pound away in his chest. Not to mention, he really likes the way you look in his shirt.

Your face lights up as you take him in too. Your eyes sweeping over his two-sizes-too-small shirt and the white short-shorts that left nothing to the imagination.

There is such fondness on your face he can’t believe how he’d let himself get so twisted in knots.

He forgets about all of his friends and their commotion as he struts over to you taking your face between his hands and kissing you. You make a little noise of surprise that he uses to his advantage to slip his tongue into your mouth.

When one of his friends catcalls them, he waves them off with one of his hands, and then drops it down to your ass to pull you in closer to him.

A flash goes off, the light bright behind his eyes.

He can feel the laughter bubbling out of your chest before comes out of your mouth, even he fights to tamper down his own amusement in favor of kissing you more.

Pulling away Bradley gently takes your chin between his finger and thumb turning your head left and right to admire your costume of choice, up close and personal.

“I gotta say, sweetheart, you’re really working that mustache.”

“I get your attachment to it. I think I wear it pretty well,” you say looking very pleased with yourself. You reach up and affectionately brush your fingers along his own.

He’d thought about shaving it off for the sake of his costume, but ultimately couldn’t go through with it. And now he’s really glad he didn’t.

“It’s not just that ‘stache you’re wearing well,” Bradley says low just for her, toying with the hem of his shirt draped on you. “You know I like the way you look in my clothes.”

He can’t help up enjoy the way you’re getting bashful under his appreciative gaze and compliments.

“I had to make sure you got the shirt back somehow,” you say with a smile.

“So it can end up on the floor of my bedroom instead?” he teases, kissing your cheek.

“I like the sound of that, and not just because my bedroom looks like a crime scene.” He cocks his head at you, but you just shake your own at him in response before continuing, “But I’m letting you know right now, the mustache is staying on when you have your way with me.”

“You have yourself a deal as long as you share your routine with me,” he murmurs, running a finger down the line of the faux abs of your tank top. “Can’t say I remember seeing these this morning in the shower. I’ve got a girl to impress, so I’d be happy to show you how grateful I am for any tips and tricks.”

“Think you’re doing just fine in those short-short of yours,” you reply, taking a step back to give him a thorough once over, “What inspired this eyeful of an ensemble?”

“I knew the shorts would make my ass look good,” he says with a shrug that send you into a fit of giggles. He’s ready to skip the party all together, in favor of appreciating how good you look outside of your costume. Your eyes are dancing with amusement and he finds himself wanted to admit more, “And because, you know…”

He thought his costume idea had been pretty witty, but now he felt a little sheepish because he didn’t want you to think he was being corny. Sure the shorts had been the thing that sealed the deal, but he’d picked good boy Danny Zuko for a reason.

“No, Bradley, I don’t think I do. Will you explain it to me?”

“Summer lovin’ happened so fast and all that.”

“‘And all that’, huh?” And there’s that look of your, he was absolutely putty in your hands when you looked at him like that. “Ok, ok, but I need to know,” you pause for moment, and look up at him with a very serious expression, “Did you have yourself a blast?”

He watches as you bite your bottom lip trying not to laugh at your own joke.

And in that moment, he just knows.

The sureness had been taking up residence in his bones since he’d first convinced you that trying to keep it casual with you wouldn’t cut it for him.

“Would now be a bad time to tell you that I love you?” he asks, threading his fingers through beltloops to pull you in closer to him.

“While I’m wearing a tank top with a six-pack dressed up as you? Seems a little narcissistic, does it not?” He’s never seen your smile this big or this bright before.

He knows. He knows. He knows.

Rooster pulls you back in for a deep kiss.

“I love you too, Bradley,” you murmur against his lips.

He kisses you until he can’t keep the smile off of his face.

“Hey, Bradshaw!”

Surprised, he pulls away from you to see Nat waving him over. He takes your hand, ready to take you over with him.

“No, not you. The better Bradshaw,” Phoenix announces as she points at you, crooking a finger and holding out a shot syringe for you.

You pull him to you, giving him one more quick before floating over to join Nat near the kitchen.

He’s feeling more than a little dumbstruck in that moment.

And not just from the sight of your shapely legs in those cutoff jean shorts.

Bradley’s feet feel cemented to the wood floors beneath his black hightop converse as he watches you throw your head back in laughter at something Nat says.

He doesn’t want to get ahead of himself, but he thinks his last name looks good on you.

You smile wide and beaming, your eyes shining as you turn to look at him from across the other side of the room.

Yeah, it looks really good on you.

Happy Halloween, Friends! This little moment has been living in my head since I posted my first ever fic on here, 'Oh Christmas Tree'! I'm so glad to finally release it to share with you! Thank you for reading!

If you want to find out what happened next for these two, just follow the link above!

If you're curious about what all of their costumes look like, you can see them here!

You can read more of my stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

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꒰ ✮ 𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗞𝗧𝗢𝗕𝗘𝗥 '𝟮𝟯 — 𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗞 𝗢𝗡𝗘!

𝗗𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗔𝗖𝗧! overstimulation + squirt training, "so thoughtless, its adorable." ꒰ sebastian michaelis x bimbo!reader ꒱: fingering, orgasm control, older english writing ꒰ sorta kinda ꒱, mention of a womb tattoo, dub-con? ꒰ 2.6k+ ꒱

"𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘥𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘥𝘰𝘮, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘣𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦." the words of a father oftenstick with his daughters, regardless if he's a goodparent or not. you should've listened, learned yourlesson. but no, you were just a stupid little girlcaught in a tradegy. a little girl who had returnedfrom a "buisness trip" with your father, only to bemet with england's new serial killer! who had takenbyour family as victims.

"non mihi ignoscat dominus, sed praesidium peto. ad inferni profunditatem vocat anima mea, 《 me tibioffero 》. serva me. serva me. serva me." random words to you, an offer of a contract to another.

you were ignorant to speak words you know nothing of out of desperation. you were even more idiotic tolook upon the...man? shrouded in darkness. idiotic tobeg and plead to person decorated in leather heelswith a face you could not see. idiotic to agree to thewords coming from its predatory grin. idiotic to not only offer your soul, but your body to it.

but the warmth that thing gave you, felt good. the warmth of that darkness sucked you in, covering you in a cloud of corruption you'd gladly accept anything to keep your mind off of it. to keep your idiot brain from thinking about something hard. something tragic.

its palm met your bellybutton, with a whimper fromyou, the glimpse of its grin signaling to you it's enjoyment in the situation. it must find you pathetic, humans are by nature pathetic. it's be no surprisethat a being from hell, an entitiy that feasts on the souls of the mortals upon earth, would find that pathetic nature amusing.

your vision went blurry, and pain struck your abdomen. a foggy memory followed from there and suddenly, here you are now with a demon, going by the name 'sebastian michaelis,' working for you as your loyal butler.

"my lady, the rooster calls! up now." you hear hisposh and professional voice speak. the shwing! of the curtain holders sliding against the rods fills your ears. the bright sunlight following soon after.

the groan that left your lips must have been amusing to the demon, for you heard a chuckle leave his lips. "must you laugh at my misery?"

the feeling of his silk gloves against your bare skin makes you jolt. the cold feeling es of his gloves foreign on your previously covered thigh. the tips of his fingers lightly glide up your skin, beginning to hover when your nightgown covers you. "you have business to attend to, my lady. your morning bath has already been prepared," his voice has a hint ofamusement in it.

a familiar grin finds his face when you swing your legs over the edge of the bed, reluctantly leaving the satin sheets with a glare.

you moan in satisfaction from the warmth of the water, sinking in the basin carefully, letting the waterswallow your body. "my, look at that! there arepleaures to wakening in the morning," sebastian's tone remains professional while adding a sarcastic undertone to it. however, the sarcasm in his words isn't reflected by his actions.

his teeth catch the tips of his gloves, pulling the bothof them off in a smooth motion. he kneels next to the washbasin while rolling up his sleeves.

with the warmth "sebastian" should not have, his hands carefully glide over your skin, the soap imbued sponge being rubbed into your skin. "what exactly, on today's cumbersome schedule?" you question softly, eyes closed as his hands glide inbetween your legs, gently washing your inner thighs.

"well, that "cumbersome" schedule is of importance today, my lady." a smile of amusement is present on his face when he explains, another groan of loathing leaving your lips.

stepping from the bath, he surrounds you with a warm towel. as delicate as ever, he helps you dry off, patting your skin as if it was as fragile as glass. his eyes tend to linger over your skin, a certain glint of hunger (you miss) in them. it seems he doesn't acton whatever desires may be festering as he simply grabs your chemise and slips it over your head.

while discussing the day with him, you absentmindedly lift your arms and turn around as the corset comes in to view. you slightly whimper when he tugs on the strings. "must this meeting be mandatory for me? there's no need for me, i am only a trophy of my father's," the words that leave your mouth begin to sound whiny to his ears. "now, my lady, im sure he's only cautious after that incident," sebastian responds, his voice getting farther as he bends down.

with a tap to your calve you lift your foot, knowing he's slipping on the garter belt suspender. you bend forward, resting your arms on the counter befor eyou when you feel his hands touch your feet delicately. the silk of the stockings on your skin feels familiar, although the process seems a bit slow.

"sebastian?" his ears might have been focused on you; however, his eyes, they were trained on the spot in between your plush thighs.

the position at which you positioned yourself gave him a few of those pretty plump lips. you were always so...inviting and eager to help. surely you wouldn't mind allowing him to fulfill a desire of his. one of his hands slides up the curve of your back, pushing your chest and stomach further against the counter.

you feel that hand slowly trail back down, slidingunderneath the chemise you were wearing to rest onyour ass. his thumbs glide lightly against your foldsbefore spreading your ass, giving him a better viewfrom on the floor.

while you couldn't see his face, you were well aware he licked his lips. after all, it had been a moment since you allowed the "bedding privileges" you agreed on when the contract was first made. therefore, you relaxed, letting him touch and observeyour "virgin cunt" all he wished to. although, the ideaof being watched so closely, looked at as an toy caused a familiar feeling a warmth to trail down toyour abdomen. "s-sebastian," you mumble, wanting to say something.

"sh, sh. give me a moment," he shushes you smiling at the jolt you make when his breath touches your skin. his soft lips pressing gently against your lower ones.

the tips of his fingers move to the slower part of your folds, spreading them to see your little squeezing around nothing. "such debauchery, you've barely been touched." his words get sent straight to your pussy as you start to relax further into his touch. "you said i had a-a meeting today..."

his touches are slight, nothing too rough as his fingertips brush between your folds. "well, my lady-" it's calm until he shoves in index finger to the knuckle in your cunt. the yelp of surprise from your lips makes him smile, your body tensing. "its in two hours, we have time."

at his words your body relaxes. it always makes him smile at how quickly you could switch to being downrght stupid.

such a strong woman completing her job until sebastian utters words of her freedom and suddenly she's no longer a woman fighting for power, she's a harlot giving up her power.

his finger slides along your walls, your body relaxing against the counter. with every languid moment, it became easier to slide in and out, with evey movement your slick covered his fingers. it was adorable how wet you became from such a small action, it only made him want to play with you more. "i wish to have some..fun, my lady. may i?" i wish to see what else i can plant in that pliable mind of yours.

it was a stupid question really. the both of you knew the answer. the familar purple glow of the contract mark came from beneath your navel, a heated feeling begins to fester in your abdomen, thighs pressing together.

"yes!" your response was immediate, the slight crack in your voice amused him. the pleasurable feeling from his finger leaves you along with a whine. you feel him snatch the garter belt suspender down, the tight feeling from the corset loosening as he tugs onthe strings. the peices fall to the floor, his hands on your hips turning you around.

his eyes glow red, pupils like a serpant as he looks up at you. you feel the softness of his wide hands ruband up and down the back of your thighs. "i haven't made you squirt, have i, my lady?" he mumbles against the skin of your inner thigh.

one of his hands pushes up your chemise, a familiar glint of hunger in his eyes when sees the contract mark.

he knows how you feel as the purple circle glows. he knows your insides are throbbing with need and his presence is drowning you with feelings of desire. every thought you had starts to evaporate in the sea of his aura. it was if he was a drug to you, a drug that beckoned the mortal desires an unmarried should not have for her butler. but the drug was sweet, it made your knees weak and your clit throb, it madeyour pussy wet and needy for anything to be slipped in it.

"n-no?" you weren't sure if he was actually asking for answer, but you answered with another question actually, you weren't sure what he meant. what was he going do to you?

"an answer wasn't needed, my dear mistress," he words are soft, his breath lightly hitting your skin. sebastian begins standing up, lifting the fabric from your body as he does. and without a word you lift your arms and let him, the curves and softness of your skin now unfiltered to his eyes.

his hands rub and squeeze your curves, your breasts, your ass. "such a beautiful body, it'd be a shame not to use it." his hands grab the back of your thighs, just under the meat of your ass to lift you up and carry you to the bedroom.

the texture of satin spreads up your back as he sets you down. "i believe your ready for my fingers. you are as wet as a harlot."

the only response he gets is a whine that turns into a moan when two of his lithe fingers slip into your cunt. they curl against the gooey ribbed spot, sending a wave of pleasure through your thighs andup to your chest. the tight coil in your stomach snapped and you release on his fingers.

it was embarrassing how quickly you came. simply from the touch of his fingers, although sebastian knew better. whether or not that pretty head of yours thought about it, his touch was actually a drug toyou.

when that contract was made, your body was his and he could choose whether to rile you up or not. his saliva, his touch, his presence was a literal drug as he consumed you. the throbbing contract mark over your womb increased the feeling. "sebastian." his name left your lips as a whine.

he didn't stop his movements, continuing to stroke your walls with care, his lips trailing up the inside ofyour thigh. his teeth graze your skin and his touch is like fire.

as if reminding you that you would burn in hell. that your decision years prior would come back to haunt you through the "man" fucking you with his fingers.

"wait, why aren't you--ngh!" the speed of his fingers increase, his other warm palm sliding gently over your navel as if to "soothe" the intense pleasure yourreceiving from the strokes of his fingers. a sigh leaves his lips at your words. i know that brain of yours isn't entirely functional, but your ears have been perfectly fine up until now," he insults you, a hint of condescension in his voice.

despite how rude his words were you could only whimper, taking his insult like the good girl you are.you speak, voice quiet and soft, "i didn't...hear."

his eyes catch the shy movement of yours, the corner of his lips twitching as he sees just how cloudy your eyes look. "i suppose i should tell you if im knuckles deep in this pretty little snatch, hm?"

sebastian is so cruel. you suppose its in his demonic nature, but a familiar ignorance made you think he wouldn't be. and you were wrong as words leave his lips. his fingers pump in and out of your cunt, the squelching noises of them sliding in and out fillingyour ears. you knew you were stupid for thinking otherwise when he laughs at you while explaining he won't stop. he'll "train" your pussy to squirt for him. no matter how many orgasms he has to ring out of you.

"so thoughtless, its adorable." you hear his words you hear what he says when he pulls the nth orgasm from you. however, you can't seem to process it. has it been just minutes, or hours? a light sheen of sweat covers your body, the sheets are damp beneath you, your slick coating your inner thighs and his hand.

his hands, god fuck, they don't get tired! they continue curling and pressing as you twitch, your pussy forever sucking him in with wants of more.

your eyes are dull, blankly staring at whatever object across the room, a cloud of pleaure fogging your mind. "i could do anything i wanted to you, and you wouldn't have the mind to even process it," he chuckles, leaning forward to hover over you. his free hand grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"mortals are so fragile. but so delectable when they break."

his lips smash against yours, his serpentine-like tongue sliding between your parted lips. his mouth drinks your moans, despite being aware the entire manor knows what their master is engaging in. its eems some visits will have to be made.

"n'more!" regardless, your sloppy pussy calls him in. "nooo." regardless, you lean into his touch and archyour back."'s 'nough!" regardless, you moan to your heart's content, you greedily swallow whatever taste, whatever touch of him you can get.

"greedy," he growls into your mouth, his fangs nipping at your bottom lip when he pulls away. a choked and disappointed whine leaves your lips at the loss.

the pathetic whimper turning into a sort of scream. his free palm presses down your navel, the fingers occupied by your cunt hook against the gooey ribbed spot inside of you. and he won.

you scream, hips convulsing and legs snapping shut around his hands. your mouth in a perfect 'O' and back arched as a different feeling overcomes you. like a bunch of pressure dropping in your stomach you squirt, wetting his clothing and the sheets. a string of whimpers and incoherent words leaves your lips.

tears stream down the sides of your face you reach another climax. he hears your gasps of air, as if the pleasure stopped your brains ability to tell you to breathe.

"my lady," his voice is smoother, calmer than the tone he had before. one of his hands breaks free from the confines of your thighs rubbing up and down the valley of your breasts. "breathe, its alright."

his gentle shushes and coos grant you the ability to breathe again, gasping for air. "good girl." your eyes focus on him after the praise, finally able to understand what just happened. his hand and sleeve is soaked, your thighs glistening from the clear liquid, and all the while that familar hungry grin remains on his face.

"i'll do the honours of cancelling the meeting."

꒰ n: it was good in the beginning, at least ithink so. and it got worse lmao. i think its kinda cringy...but! i finally did i day! that's a plus. i hate this one sm😭 also, rough latin translation: the lord may not forgive me, but i ask for protection. my soulcalls to the depths of hell, "i offer myself to you." save me. save me. save me. ꒱

[gee-arid]

ok, sorry if question is a bit long and if you have answered, please put the link for me to see please. Well... what are the names of the heroes? What was each heroe's first choice? (I mean the ladybug and cat holder). I know that Marinette is with the Fox and Ivan with the turtle, but for some reason I think that if they swap it would combine more (I speak more in symbolism, ivan who cannot lie with the "miraculous of lie"). What is the weapon of each carrier? About the turtle and Ivan, I think a purplish blue would match more (that leatherback turtle). What are the camouflaged forms of each miraculous? Do you have the reason why every person has every miraculous?

A big ask, but thats okay! I'd love to answer! Note that some answers like names and weapons are subject to change, im not great with names and im less familliar with some characters than others so, opinions and other ideas are awesome :)

Names and weapons, left to right:

Aliase Rouges (red wings), Cartoony sledge hammer

Veilluese (night light), Grappling hook

Bison? Hyland?, Guitar- its electric but doesnt have to be plugged in..

Adora (play on Adore), Frisbee

Ouroboros, Mirror shield (play on the medusa myth)

Tack (to temporarily fasten something together), Big Needle

Captain Stinger (shortened to Sting), Cutlass

Jockey?, Reins? maybe a whip

Alectryon, rooster body (i guess?)

Jack Rabbit (shortened to Jack), Pickaxe

Ridley (a type of turtle), Detatched shields- Bonus purpley-blue version: honestly it works just as well.

Tora (Japanese for tiger, i think), Sythe

R.A.T (acronym for Rodent Assist Team? idk, funny bit based on pokemons F.E.A.R strat lol, also sounds like a dj name??. also based on his purpose being mostly assisting pedestrians), Glow sticks (almost like a pair of lightsabers, without the deadliness. Basically glowing battons)

Boar, Boomerang (shaped like boar tusks).

Cirrus (a type of cloud, Aroure and Mirelle share the name and the miraculous), Lightning rod/ wind sock

Caprix (Play on Caprine), Chunky roller blades

Gibbon? (a type of monkey), one of those silly stretchy sticky hands

Reasons for each holder are here!

First choices are also listed there, if there isnt an alternative listed, they either had the same idea or no strong preference for a different holder. Regarding swapping holders based on symbolism (i.e. Ivan with the fox, Mari with the turtle) that would be super cool and i may draw them at some point in the future, but wouldn't fit with my au. This is because my bug and cat holders choose them based on preexisting relationships, traits, and talents.

Camouflaged forms are these:

Struggled with Alyas rabbit miraculous tbh, it doesnt quite fit with my au for it to stay a pocket watch anyway (the Rabbits power being swapped from Burrow in a time sense, to Burrow in a dig way) so i guess its normal activated form would be some kind of keychain? Alyas disguise currently is a tamogachi :)

Nino wears the mouse necklace wrapped around his wrist like a bracelet.

Max's snake bracelet turns into a smart watch.

Markovs claw connects to his existing claws, and mimics what claws he already has.

Mirelle and Aroure have similar chokers with the charm changed. Aroure has the lightning bolt, Mirelle has the rain drop. They have the chokers replicated by comission with Marinette so they can swap the actual miraculous between them when needed.

Sabrinas sunglasses are prescription. They could also be just normal glasses, no black tint, when appropriate.

Marcs ring, where rainbow, is iridescent!

The butterfly and peacock are still unavailable to our heroes.

[missamyrisa2]

You find some poor sucker of a boy who's gotten his privates stuck in a glory hole. What do you do?

Wellll lookie what we have here ~ it's a sleepy prince. What ever shall I do with this lazy boy who got himself all stuck in a situation? Good thing I always come prepared, and speaking of coming.

Ahh, here's my massage oil and my wide makeup brush which is ever sooo perfect for covering the curvy surface of a royal jewel bag~ Do you hear me darling? Don't go all shy on me now. We're going to get to know each other sooo well, oh yesss we are~ we're going to bond over this hole ~ I'm going to get to know you sooo well and you're going to get to know me tooo ~ and by the end you're gonna call me mama and that's a Miss Amy promise~

and sooo let's carefully glide the brush up the surface to coat that sensitive royal area with shiny oil. Ah, ah, seeee he's trying to press closer to the brush. But no, we keep juuuust the tips of the makeup brush gliding on that ticklish cute boy part. Ooh it's sooo tough to be teased on the jewels only ~ the royal rod is sooo jealous, just look at him bob and protest~ don't worry dearie pie, we have a brush just for you tooo~

Extra coating of oil hereeee and there we gooo ~ my thin nimble paintbrush is so good at teasing this dipstick it's almost ~criminal~ aww him wants it sooo bad ~ but noooo mama isn't giving anything more but this tiny soft brush up the underside, up the vein to the tip. Tickle tickle ~ even if he could pull out he wouldn't because he luuuuvs his mama tickles sooo much ~ yesss, tickle mama always makes it feel soo good huh?

Are you still awake? I'm quite good at reading dick faces and you look positively flushed, like you might pass out ~ don't you dare cutie, because that won't stop me anyway. Oh yes, I'll make you ticklecum while you dream and you'll think it's a ten armed octopus woman with a penchant for handjob tickling boys upside down ~ and somehow, you're all ten of them ~ I bend time and space you silly doll and in every reality you are my plaything ~ yess, my tickle brush is the nexus of your universe and you exist solely to spill your silly giggle drops for me ~

Which is why I have my friend Mrs. Wand for you ~ Mmhmmm ~ you hear the buzzing huh? You want it? Yeahh? You want the buzziesss? Mmmmh that tickles so good doesn't it, right on your tip? Right under the head? Oooh I know, I know darling, but that's all you get. Nope. Mrs. Wand is turning off now. Mmm Mmm ~ nah -ahhh not yet, not cumming for you cutie boyyy ~ it's feather time. Where are you going? You don't want feather time? Better than~~~ hammer time~!!

Oooh sweetie pie what a twitch, what a wince! ~ I'm only kidding you knowww ~ had to get you off that edge somehow ~ and now my cute purple fluffy feather gets to work you back up and my nails can twirl and dance on these balls. Yesss, bouncy bouncy ball balls ~ Why are they called balls anyway? They're really not like that at all, like the shape and the consistency ~ mmm see? See what I mean? And is this one bigger than the other one? Come on now, don't be all shy ~ that's just a feather on your cocky cock a doodle doooo ~ and why do we call it that? Are you a rooster? Do you go cock a doodle doo?

Maybe back in the olden days giggle girls like me would go to the boy barn and tickle the silly boy of the day on his royal parts until he sang like you. Ahh, what a dulcet way to wake ~ the cry of the boy's gigglecum ~ do you want to be my giggle rooster? Well you are a silly goose ~ and guess what? It's handjob timeee ~ now, now don't fret. I'm going to jerk you so much you silly boy. Yeah? You wanna cum? You bet you fucking do ~ but oooh no.... sorryy I just realized this is a no gigglecum glory hole. Yeahh, the writing is on this side. But don't worry, I'll keep this feather riiiight under your tip so you don't feel lonely while you come off that edge. I knowwww it tingles soooo bad huh? You were soooo close~! I can't believe you didn't cum there~

[wildbornsiren]

Safe and Sound || Jake “Hangman” Seresin/Reader/Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

Safe and Sound Part one. Summary: Lay mornings are for chores and cuddling.  1,222 words. Female/AFAB reader-- military job (search and rescue) nickname Birdie.  Warnings: None really, poly!Relationship if that’s not your cuppa.  Notes: tagging in @roleycoleyreccenter because they too love poly!squad. Comments and reblogs are loved, likes are appreciated. Thank you so much for reading, it is so appreciated, and means the most.  **Please follow @wbslibrary​ for updates.**

Off base housing was far better than the barracks, the only drawback finding something affordable with a flexible lease—the chance of being called to relocate with very little warning was highly probable and most landlords wouldn’t put up with it. Thankfully, you found one who rented a three-bedroom beach bungalow at a killer price. It was too much space for you, so you reached out first to Bradshaw, then Seresin who both agreed. It was a good idea, and while the three of you had ended up tangled up with each other more than once, making the shift from coworkers who occasionally fucked around to roommates was smoother than you expected.

They kept busy at Top Gun, teaching, running hops and being called out to top secret missions. Occasionally you ended up on the same mission, though if you saw each other during work it wasn’t the best of circumstances. Search and Rescue never paid for drinks, and no one ever wanted to see you and your crew, but no one made you feel uncomfortable. Weekends were the best. At least the ones where the three of you could spend time together. You had woken up first, starting a coffee pot, glancing around the common living space. Clothes were scattered over most surfaces, flight suits, uniforms, towels. Somehow, there was a pair of boxers hanging from the curtain rod. Life sustaining caffeine poured into a mug you set to sorting out the clothes into piles. “Morning Birdie,” Jake says emerging from his bedroom. His hair stands at odd angles, shirtless and barefoot, gray sweats riding low on his hips. He watches you for a few moments, before blinking sleepily returning to his room, dragging his dirty clothes hamper into the main living space. You can’t help but smile at the nickname, and Jake’s appearance. “How did it get this bad?” You ask, handing a mug over to him as he sorts his clothes into the piles. “Work.” Jake says. “Go grab yours.” He looks at the coffee mug like it hung the stars in the sky. Out of the three of you, you were the only one who could function in the morning. “And I’ll brave the wrath of Bradshaw.” “You’re a peach.” You grin at him, walking past, squeaking when he grabs your wrist, pulling you close. “I can be.” He says softly, kissing your cheek. “Missed you, between the hops and teaching it seems like you’ve been out of the house a lot.” “Work’s been tough for all of us.” You smile, pressing a gentle kiss to his mouth. He sets his mug down, plucking yours from your hand, setting it aside. He pulls you closer, those warm, strong arms wrapping around you as he kisses you again. Properly this time, Jake’s tongue sliding past your lips, his hands spanning your back. “Go get Bradley’s stuff.” You murmur against his lips when he comes up for air. “I need another kiss for luck.” Jake’s lips brush against yours as he speaks, sending shivers down your back. “You can have another one when you’ve completed your mission.” “Yes ma’am.” Jake salutes you, heading back to Bradley’s room. You go to your own room, retrieving your piles of dirty laundry. When you pass by Bradley’s room, you can hear the two men talking, voice rough with sleep. You lean in the doorway, watching as Bradley cups Jake’s jaw, pulling him down for a soft kiss. More murmuring, before Bradley is calling out good morning. “Morning Bradley,” you can’t help but smile. It had taken some time and more than a few growing pains, but the three of you had settled into this. A trio, that gave as much as it took, a love protected and fostered. “Do I smell coffee?” “Yes, you need to get up to get some.” You call over your shoulder. Once in the main room you start sorting your clothes adding to the already large piles. “I mean that’s basic biology.” Bradley rumbles softly, draping himself across your back. He’s warm and heavy, sleepy. “Have to get it up to get some.” His mustache tickles as he kisses along the curve of your neck. “Everyone knows that Birdie.” “You’re such a brat.” You squirm away and he chuckles softly. Jake’s rummaging through Bradley’s dirty clothes before he’s gathering up the flight suits and heading toward the garage. Food is a simple affair, breakfast burritos while barefoot in the kitchen. Bradley and Jake bicker playfully while you eat. It’s comfortable, familiar and the realization that the three of you hadn’t shared a space together for nearly three weeks. Sure, there were hellos and goodbyes, kisses in passing; but this comfort creature hadn’t happened for a while. Bradley disappears to change the laundry over, Jake’s at the sink washing up. Bradley comes back, slotting himself between your thighs. You had sat on the kitchen island to eat and hadn’t moved when your boys started to do things. Bradley rests his head on your chest, his arms around your waist. He makes a sound akin to a purr when your fingers tangle gently in his curls. “Comfortable?” You ask, kissing the top of his head. He rumbles his approval, burrowing closer to your body. His body heat seeps through the thin t-shirt and sleep shorts you wore as pajamas, his fingers brushing under the hem of your shirt. His touch is soft and slow, drawing circles on the small of your back. “We should probably go grocery shopping too.” Jake says. He’s started a list, standing next to the two of you. “Instacart,” Bradley says not even bothering to lift his head. “Laundry and snuggles today. Maybe movies and naps.” “I could get behind that.” Jake says. He pulls himself up on to the island with you, hand curling gently around the back of your neck, pulling you in for another kiss. “My reward for facing the slumbering dragon and getting his clothes.” You can’t help but smile, sneaking another kiss, feeling him smile against your mouth. “Can we go somewhere more comfortable?” Bradley lifts his head, lips pursed for a kiss. You kiss him soundly, Jake following suit. “Couch, that way we can hear the washer and dryer, and the clothes will be in sight.” You murmur, pressing another soft kiss to Bradley’s mouth. Bradley offers his hand when you get down from the counter, Jake hot on your heels. Bradley sits on one end of the couch, his back against the arm, legs sprawled out. You crawl onto the couch with him, your back against his chest. Almost immediately, his head drops to your shoulder, pressing soft kisses to your neck. Your fingers find their way into his curls, untangling them gently as he hums in pleasure. “You alright there, sleepy boy?” “Mmhm,” he hums softly, nose pressed to the curve of your neck. Jake joins the pair of you, settling between your legs, his head on your chest. It’s warm and comfortable, one of Jake’s hands sliding up and down your side. Safe, sheltered, protected, nothing could reach the three of you here. Bradley’s breathing so slow and even against your neck, Jake’s weight comfortable and heavy, grounding you between the two halves of your heart. Maybe, just maybe the laundry can wait. Home was more important. /end

[top-wing]

basically that Top Wing Sting episode

[randalsgrave]

Dagger Squad Random Headcanons: Cars

I've literally had this floating around in my head for ages now and it's the dumbest shit ever, but anyhoo I went to the trouble of figuring out what kind of car everyone who isn't Maverick would be cruising around in when they're not airborne. So, without further ado-

BRADLEY "ROOSTER" BRADSHAW: 1966 Ford Bronco

I mean c'mon, we literally all saw him roll up to the Hard Deck in this thing

Old soul, old truck

JAKE "HANGMAN" SERESIN: Lifted 2020 Ram 2500 Diesel

If this doesn't scream "Texas pilot with a huge ego" I don't know what does

There's probably a Cummins sticker on the back window

DIESEL OR DIE

NATASHA "PHOENIX" TRACE: 2020 Jeep Wrangler

Badass but understated

Doesn't need the bells and whistles to get shit done in this thing

ROBERT "BOB" FLOYD: 2021 Subaru Impreza Sport Hatchback

A sensible car for a sensible boy

Definitely sprang for the manual transmission

Most likely silver or dark gray

JAVY "COYOTE" MACHADO: 2017 BMW 330i

Let's be honest he got this for the sound system

Style with *some* substance

Living his best life in his fancy foreign sports car

MICKEY "FANBOY" GARCIA: a *heavily* modified 2009 Nissan 370Z

Less of a car, more of a personality piece

Nismo AF

Regularly replaces the tires because he's doing burnouts and donuts in a parking lot somewhere

REUBEN "PAYBACK" FITCH: 2020 Ford F-250 Super Duty King Ranch

Big, red, and fabulous

Work truck in name only

Definitely got this for the cushy interior (we love a man who treats himself to the finer things)

BILLY "FRITZ" AVALONE: 2021 Toyota Tacoma

I headcanon Fritz as being from Hawaii

What does everyone drive on-island? TOYOTA BABY

Definitely part of the 'Yota Mafia

3-inch lift for optimum coolness

BRIGHAM "HARVARD" LENNOX: 2020 custom Jeep Wrangler

Unlike Phoenix, Harvard *does* need the bells and whistles

Total Barbie Jeep

Polished regularly with a diaper

Definitely allergic to dirt

LOGAN "YALE" LEE: 2016 Toyota 4Runner

Dude's probably a dad

Ergo, dad car

He's had this thing for a hot minute but he babies the shit out of it

NEIL "OMAHA" VIKANDER: 2020 Ford Mustang Shelby GT500

If anyone's gonna have the token service member's hot rod I guess it would be him

Has to rev it every time he starts it up

Has racked up an absurd amount of speeding tickets in this thing

CALLIE "HALO" BASSETT: 2020 Lexus ES

A bad bitch car for a totally bad bitch

Iced coffee is a permanent fixture in the front cupholder

Smells like Endless Weekend from Bath and Body Works

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Sweet Home Alabama

Chapter Fifteen of Sweet Home Alabama

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x OC (Linley Mitchell/Floyd), Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x OC (Linley Mitchell/Floyd)

Description: After everything is said and done, Linley finds herself back on the beach. Their beach. The beach where she was struck with lightning at ten years old. The beach where Jake asked her to marry him. The beach where Jake is, in the middle of the heavy rain, pounding lightning rods into the sand. This is her last chance to win him back. He's always been the love of her life, Linley's just not sure if she's still the love of his. What happens on that beach could change everything.

Themes: love, attraction, angst, sex, cheating, lying

Warnings: This chapter takes place in the middle of a lightning storm. That's it! Oh - and our couple finally have an amorous moment in Jake's truck.

Word Count: 3324

A/N: The final chapter, y'all! I can't believe it. We're finally at the end of Jake and Linley's story. It's been a long road, and a part of me can't believe we're at the end. I want to take this time to thank everyone who has been reading this story, again. I can't say it enough, how thrilled and genuinely shocked I've been with the amount of love and support you've shown me!

AO3: Cross-posted here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted here!

My Masterlist

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It’s dark, and you can barely see out of the windshield as you drive slowly down winding single-lane country roads. You’re keeping your eyes peeled for Jake’s terrible orange truck, and in truth, you nearly run into it as you drive past the beach. When you get out of the car, the rain whips into your face, and each step makes your feet sink into the scrub grass and loosely packed sand. You’re still wearing your dumb white heels, thankful at least that you don’t have a sodden veil to contend with as the wind tugs your hair from your updo and melts your makeup. You yank the heels off and walk onto the beach, where everything seems to start and end for you and Jake Seresin.

Flashes of lightning trail across the sky as you pick your way through the sand, your heels in one hand, your long train in the other. Jake’s pounding rods of some kind of metal into the sodden soil, water trailing in rivulets across his head and soaking into the heavy jacket he’s wearing. He doesn’t seem to mind it, either, if his single minded focus as he finishes his tasks are any indication. You stand there for several moments, taking in the lean lines of his muscles as his clothes cling to him. 

“Hey, cowboy.” Your voice is nearly too soft over the raindrops meeting the river. “Hey, cowboy!”

This time, he hears you, and when he turns around, he looks at you like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.

“You owe me a dance!” There’s a coy smile on your face as you stand there in your designer wedding dress quickly growing transparent in the rain. It doesn’t escape you, the heat in his eyes as he scans over your form.

“Well, Linley.” His voice is a near purr. “That’s an awfully nice dress. Where’s your husband?”

“I’m looking at him! Apparently, you and I are still hitched.” When those words finally reach him, Jake looks dumbfounded.

“Is that right?” He tugs the heavy gloves on his hands off wiith shaking fingers. “I could’ve sworn I signed a pair of papers the way a pretty little thing begged me too. If she wanted to stay married to me, how come she didn’t tell me?”

This is a game you’ve been playing with Jake Seresin your whole life. The first person to capitulate to a question loses and wins the prize of their choosing. There’s a smile growing on your face as you ask, “Why didn’t you tell me you came to New York?”

Something like a chuckle spills out of his mouth. Jake runs his hands through his sodden hair, sluicing water ineffectually away.

“I - I needed to make something of myself.” You nod consideringly, though your heart breaks just a little at the thought that Jake felt like he needed to make something of himself to win you back. His fortunes or lack thereof never bothered you. All you’ve ever needed was to know he loves you.

“Well, are you about done?” There’s shock in his face as he stomps past you.

“What is it with all of you Southern girls?” You nearly have to gallop to keep up with the way his long limbs eat up the sand.

“You can't make the right decisions ‘til you tried all the wrong ones?” Your dress is plastered to your skin as you try to grasp one of his swinging hands.

“At least I fight for what I want, which is more than I can say about you!” These words, more than anything, are what stops him in his tracks.

“Well, what do you want, Linley?” When you fail to respond, he spits out, “I don’t even think you know!”

“I-I do know.” You take his hand in yours. It’s warm and big, slightly rough and calloused but so gentle as it wraps around your chilled palm. “I think I always have. I was just deluding myself because I wasn’t sure how much I deserved what I wanted.”

“You were my first kiss, Jake. My first love, my first heartbreak, my first everything. I realized by coming back to Pigeon Creek that I also wanted you to be my last everything.”

“Well did you ever think that maybe we had our chance, seven years ago?” You’re sure your heart is breaking again.

“If that’s what you think, then why are you still here?” You’re swallowing tears as you let go of his hand, your arms curling around your midriff at the thought. “Have it your way, you stubborn idiot!”

You turn around, not caring that in your hold, your heels are rubbing up against your dress and leaving marks on the white fabric. Maybe there really is no hope. You’re dragging your heels as you walk away, feeling cold and lonely. Maybe you should drive to New York. Your dad can just ship your things to you or maybe Bradley will as a last favor to you? Anything would probably be easier than facing your family and friends back in the covered tent at Floyd Plantation without Jake by your side.

“Whatcha want to be married to me for, anyhow?” You’re sure you must be dreaming. There’s no way he’s asking you that question. When you turn around you’re reminded of the last time you were on this stretch of riverbank when you were ten years old. The last time one of you asked the other this question, you were both struck by lightning. 

But this time, you’re sure it’ll be different as you stride forward and cup his face in your cold hands. “So I can kiss you anytime I want.” His smile is fond as you finally kiss your husband. He tastes like coffee and cinnamon and like home. It’s a soft press of lips against lips, filling you with warmth as his arms curl around your waist and yours wrap around the back of his neck.

“Now, Linley,” He’s absolutely growling the words into your ear in a way that never fails to make you weak at the knees. You’d say your panties were wet, but honestly at this point everything is. “Wouldn’t you say it’s about time we had ourselves a nice reunion?”

You’re blushing, giggling and stumbling as Jake leads you up to his truck. But just when you expect him to help you into the cab, he kisses you again. This time the kisses are hot and claiming, each slow press of his lips against your pulse, neck and decolletage sinking into your veins and giving you a buzz like the whiskey your husband is so fond of. A part of your brain can’t comprehend that you’re actually here with Jake, kissing in a cool summer rain. It’s obvious he feels the same way you do, if the reverence in his gaze as he stares down at you is any indication.

“C’mon, baby doll.” He pulls open one of the back doors and helps you in, uncaring at the way your dress smears rainwater over the leather seats. Your teeth chatter a little as your bare skin makes contact with the leather, the sensation unpleasant as you slide away. When Jake slides in after you, carefully pushing the trail of your dress aside and closes the door, you’re finally left in silence. You still faintly hear the pattering of the heavy rain, and when you turn to Jake, he’s still looking at you with that same disbelieving look.

“What’s going on in that head?” 

You have to ask that question. You fell in love with the thoughtful pout on his lips over a decade ago, and that expression makes you feel even more in love than you were moments earlier. You ruck the dress up and clamber carefully into his lap. His expression doesn’t change until you drag your fingers through the wet strands of his hair.

“I’m thinking, sweetheart, that I must be dreaming. There’s no way this is real.” His voice is hushed as he trails his fingertips down your cheek.

“This isn’t a dream, Jake. This is real life.” You peck the corner of his mouth, smiling into the soft kiss. “This is forever, if you’ll have me, that is.”

“Why, Mrs. Seresin.” His big hands slide under the hem of your dress, cupping your ass as he draws you closer. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were out to seduce me.”

“Maybe I am, Cowboy.” There’s an unrepentant grin on your lips as you move your hips against the bulge in his jeans. “What are you going to do about it?”

“This.” You barely have the chance to catch your breath before Jake drags you into a kiss which steals all thought from your mind. His mouth trails hot across your pulse point, and with one yank, you’re spilling out of the strapless wedding gown. Your nipples are hard and your arms and chest are covered in goosebumps as his tongue drags torturously across your skin. You’re moaning in earnest soon, each hot swipe of his tongue making you ache for him as you grind down onto his lap, the button on his jeans rubbing against your clit. He hums in question at each moan that spills out of your mouth and you have to tug on his hair to get him to pull away. The front of your dress gapes forward, pooling around your waist loosely. He must have undone the back when you were otherwise occupied. 

“C’mere, Lin.” You fall into his chest, letting his arms wrap securely around you, not caring as he musses up your hair as he kisses you again. This time, you push his sodden jacket off and at least succeed in tugging his shirt off. You hum in pleasure at the feeling of his skin against yours and squeal when he lifts you up enough to free himself from his jeans. “This isn’t how I intended to make love to you again, but that’ll have to wait until we’re back home and not soaking wet.”

You groan as he continues, “Or well, at least when I’m not soaking wet.” You gasp in unison with your husband as you sink onto his length. The edges of his zipper digs into the tender soft skin of your inner thighs and his belt and belt buckle are frigid against your skin, but you don’t mind. Your half-remembered flashes from the night of passion you'd shared don’t hold a candle to the passion burning between you and Jake now. With a gentle smile, he maneuvers you up and down on his length. His rough fingers pluck at your nipples and his mouth is spit slicked as it drips pure filth into your ear. You’re so turned on that you can hear your arousal as you ride your husband. In truth, the more you think about Jake as your husband the more turned on you get.

Your thighs shake with effort as the windows fog in the heat between you, and every time you take Jake to the hilt the slide makes your breath catch. It's frenzied and harsh, Jake's hands digging into your skin as he helps you move, the sounds of slapping skin echoing through the small space. It's fast and rough, but it feels so good that you're sure it won't be long at all before you fall apart for your husband. Already you can feel the pressure of your orgasm gathering in your veins, all of your attention focused on the pleasure on Jake’s face and the white-hot hook under your belly button.

When your thighs nearly give out, Jake takes over, pressing his hips up into yours with quick jagged thrusts. His hands are talented and rough as they massage your clit. It’s too much stimulation for your body. Broken sobs and moans spill from your lips as you fall apart for your husband with a scream, muscles quivering as they tremble through the aftershocks. He roars as your muscles constrict around him and he spills deep into your waiting heat. 

“I missed you, Linley Mitchell, so much.” Your muscles feel uncooperative as you kiss Jake again and again, whispering promises into his skin that you're going to keep this time. But you have a reason to keep your promises now, a reason you were too young and stupid to realize you had last time. 

“It's Linley Seresin, Jake. It always should have been.” He kisses you again, this time even sweeter. You're still overstimulated and very needy as Jake carefully pulls away, tugs your panties in place, and helps you do up the back of your gown again. When you look at your face in your reflection, you see fever-bright eyes and the broadest, giddiest grin and unsurprisingly your hair is an absolute mess. He reels you in, still shirtless, until your head is nestled below his chin and his arms are wrapped securely around your body. You shiver as the aftershocks of adrenalin from your stand-off with Carole and your panic over needing to win Jake back fade away. But you don’t let yourself fall asleep. Everytime you feel exhaustion setting in, you kiss Jake. 

There is a possessive look in Jake's eyes which nearly tumbles the two of you into each other again when a rapping at the window rips you apart, well the tapping and Bryant’s plaintive whines from the front seat. The picture you and Jake make when he finally manages to roll down the window must be something. If it were anyone else on the other side of the window, you’d have presumed that a rich girl had run away with a country boy on the day of her wedding and her daddy and her jilted groom had sent the police after them both. It would be an astute assumption, thinking about how bedraggled you are and how Jake seems to refuse to let you up. You’re also uncomfortably aware of his release dripping out of you and onto the gusset of your satin lingerie with every move you make.

But because it’s Sheriff Garcia, you just smile toothily at him and ask, “What seems to be the trouble, officer?”

“I’m here to bring you in, young lady!” You giggle at Mickey’s tone even as Jake grumbles and presses kisses against the ball of your shoulder. 

“What did she do this time, officer?” You nudge him with your elbow, unable to hide your wide smile as he intercepts the motion and pulls you into his arms even more securely.

“Well, the way I hear it, it seems that she ran out on a perfectly good wedding cake.” Mickey’s smiling from ear-to-ear as Jake tugs his shirt on and helps you carefully out of the truck. Mickey’s smile turns into outright laughter at how bedraggled you look as you try to shake out the many, many wet layers of your dress. “Well, Mrs. Seresin, you look like you had some fun with Mr. Seresin tonight.”

Your cheeks are flushed as you smile cheekily back to him. “We’re just making up for lost time, Mickey. I just wish I wasn’t so stupid for seven years.”

“At least you’re not so stupid now.” He grins again, hugging you perfunctorily. “C’mon now, you lovebirds. Allow me to escort you to your wedding reception!”

Jake can’t seem to keeps his hands away from you tonight, and nor do you want him to. There’s music pouring out of the radio, but you’re sure you don’t recognize a single note. All you’re focusing on is Jake sitting there next to you. For the first time in seven years you note how much he’s changed. He’s no longer the boy he once was,which is evident. He’s taller and broader, more finely muscled than the lanky thing he used to be, yet there are small wrinkles at the corners of his mouth and eyes, and he’s more serious overall. His smile when he turns to you is the same as it always has been, and you see the four year old you became friends with overlaid by the ten-year-old who asked you to marry him and the eighteen year old who told you he loved you the night you got married. You’re not sure if you know this Jake Seresin. What’s more heady, more alluring, is the thought that you want to. You want desperately to understand the man who treated you like broken glass and made love to you like you were the most important thing in his life. You have time, and you smile back at his enquiring look, shaking your head as he quirks an eyebrow at you. You’re not going to waste this second chance.

When the truck slows to a halt and you get out, you’re a little surprised to see you’re in front of The Hard Deck.

“Mama probably moved the party here so we didn’t bother old Colonel Floyd anymore than we had to.” Jake wraps an arm around you as he kisses your temple.

“Now hold on, y’all. Let me just pop in and announce you. Properly, this time.” Mickey’s practically vibrating with joy as he strides in through the bar’s swinging doors.

You’re all set to walk into bar, but when you hear Mickey say, “Ladies and gentlemen, Mrs. and Mr. Jake Seresin!”Jake lifts you up into his arms and strides purposefully through the doors. You enter with a flourish in your husband’s arms to laughter and cheers. The Hard Deck is far from the lavish reception Carole had planned for you and Bradley, but well, you hadn’t married Bradley after all. The only people left in the room are those who you love, who understand who you are because they love Pigeon Creek as much as you do. But what makes you laugh the most is the sight of your cannibalized wedding cake. The bride and groom cake toppers have been gently lifted from the towering confection and replaced with the red and blue soldiers from an old Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots set.

“Well, c’mon then,” Multiple voices cry out. “Speech, speech, speech.”

But instead, all they get is Jake kissing your knuckles and proclaiming to the crowd, “Well, I do believe I owe this lady a dance.” 

Your smile is wide as Jake leads you out towards the dance floor, Bryant underfoot, with all of your friends and family arrayed out along the floor around you. You stand and stare at Jake a little bit, because you still can’t believe you’re actually here with him.

“Before we dance, because I promised we would.” Jake’s voice is quiet and all of your friends and family hush at the sounds of his voice. “I do believe this…” He reaches under his shirt and pulls out a necklace from inside his pocket. Strung on the softly shining metal are rings, yours and his. “Belongs to you.”

You hold you left hand out proudly, letting your husband put your wedding rings back in their place. You return the favor and place Jake’s back on his hand and smile into the kiss he presses to your lips. When you pull away, it’s to cheers and you wrap your arms around his neck in preparation to dance. You grin when you see Penny at the Jukebox.

“Hey, Penny!” Your voice is light as you request. “Make it a slow one!”

Unsurprisingly, the song she picks on the Jukebox is H-4, and you kiss Jake as the tones of Lynyrd Skynyrd’s Sweet Home Alabama ring out across the assembled crowd. That’s how the night goes. You dance until you can’t feel your feet, eat cake until you’re stuffed and smile all night long. At times you think you see Fuzz in the room, but you’re sure that’s just a figment of your imagination. If anyone deserves to eat some cake, that cat does.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN ON AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR ON TUMBLR BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR TUMBLR, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

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[artzychic27]

More Scarlet Warlock Stuff/Sabrina The Teenage Witch AU

(You know, the campy early 2000s version)

Everything in the world of Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir is the same, except Nathaniel is 1/64th warlock on his late father, Maison's side

No one... Except maybe Alix knows he's a warlock

Along with Akumas and Amoks, there are supernatural threats from the magical world plaguing Paris that Nathaniel often takes care of with his magic

When he died, Maison left behind his familiar, a hand-sized goat named Stardust (Bragging rights go to whoever can guess where I got the name)

Like all familiars in the Magic Realm, Stardust is a sentient magical totem that sits atop a witch or warlock's magic staff. They can also switch between a wooden totem and a living form. (... Yeah, that's right. I like Owl House)

Stardust immediately bonded with Nathaniel after Maison's passing and often headbutts his leg when he returns from school

There's also a warlock named Klaus who was cursed by Maison and turned into a rooster for all eternity after he tried to take over the world three times. Aya often threatens to turn him into nuggets when he smartmouths her

His classmates have no idea that Nathaniel's a warlock, but they do notice strange things happening around him

Nathaniel: Later, Kim. *His locker door closes without him touching it, and he leaves*

Kim: ... What the hell?!

—

Juleka: … Are you a witch?

Nathaniel: Nope. *Thinking* ‘It’s not technically a lie; I’m a warlock.’

—

Alya: Hey, Nath, would you mind- ARE YOUR EYES GLOWING?!

Nathaniel: *His eyes stop glowing* No, they’re not.

Alya: They definitely were!

Nathaniel: Then, you just need new glasses.

Chloé and Louis are always trying to prove how "weird" Nath is, but he's always one step ahead of them, usually cursing them for a few days until they eventually back off

He keeps his wand in his boot… Also, he wears boots now

There’s just a lot of magical stuff lying around the house, a Wishing Rod, a Spooky Jar, a Magic Typewriter that types what you think, a collapsible cauldron (perfect for traveling), a halo that lets you spot demons and imps, a few magic amulets, a magic sketchbook that makes whatever you draw come to life, memory leeches, and a hammer space bag

There’s also a talking newt in the basement

Aya’s always fighting at least one strange creature in the kitchen, like a tentacle that just shot out from the sink drain

Aya: Wanna go, you hentai motherfucker?! Let’s fucking go! *Proceeds to hit the tentacle with a wooden spoon*

Nathaniel: *Walks in the kitchen* Hey, mom? Have you seen my backpack?

Aya: By the door, sweetie.

Nathaniel: Thanks. Oh, and there’s some repellent in the cabinet to your right.

Aya: Thanks, dear!

[musical-chan]

Link and the Deity Chapter 4: Memories of a Different Time

It was quiet as Link tossed his fishing line into the wide, forest river.  His dad was leaning up against a tree, hands resting on his knees and eyes closed.  Saria was sitting on the far bank, playing a quiet song on her ocarina while her fairy dozed against her neck. Link yawned, feeling a little sleepy himself as he waited for a fish to bite.

It was still so warm, though some days it was cool and breezy.  He didn't know when autumn was supposed to start. Didn't know much about the seasons at all, really. How could he know what time it was and how many days had passed and not know when the seasons came and went?  His hands paused on the rod, mind going intensely quiet for a moment. 

How did he know what time it was?

Ug, it was all Termina's fault! Ever since he started counting the hours, he couldn't stop.  He had only been out for a few months and some days he still woke with a start, expecting to hear the ticking of that dumb clock! The crowing of a rooster, the steady tap tap tap of a hammer… 

Link's eye twitched at a recent memory. 

(Read the rest on AO3!)