#you cannot put thots like this in my brain | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ittybxttykxttytxtty · 1 year ago

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Hello, fair warning. This chapter gave me deep feelings. Please understand that my feelings are required to be in capital letters.

He'd heard the way you'd slammed the door on your way out of his apartment that night. He knew how hurt and upset you’d been. But when you’d started crying because he had been planning to go out again, he'd wanted to comfort you– tried to–but you'd rejected him so easily instead. And that hurt him deeply. Because Matt had always thought you were different, that you understood him. That you loved him for who he was–you'd certainly always assured him that you did.

I HAVE NO WORDS. MATTHEW. MICHAEL. MURDOCK YOU IDIOT. YOU MASSIVE BARELY FUNCTIONING ADULT. YOU DOLT. IDEK WHAT TO SAY.

But you’d made that choice, he reminded himself. You had walked out on him. That thought only had Matt grinding his teeth together, anger coursing through him.

YOU WALKED OUT FIRST, YOU STALE BAGUETTE.

You weren’t the woman he’d thought you were after all. And that hurt.

AND WHAT ABOUT YOU?!?!?! BAILING ON DATES, NOT TAKING CARE OF YOURSELF, TAKING THE READER FOR GRANTED. ALWAYS EXPECTING HER TO BE AT YOUR BECK AND CALL LIKE A FUCKING DOORMAT. BELLA, ISTG. COME GET UR MAN. I AM TURNING FERAL

Also, sidenote. I think this is a common trope in superhero stories??? The difficulty of living a double life, like in this context for example. He should always be Matthew Michael Murdock, first and Daredevil, second. Matt can live without Daredevil but Daredevil can't exist/live without Matt. That's how it should be,anyways. Am I making sense?

Anyways, point is....he managed to live a life without Daredevil most of his existence. So why put being Matt on the back burner?!?! Take care of the host body, ya know? Without it there wont be a Daredevil. Dont let your alter ego take control of your life.

“ She left me ,” Matt snarled back. “Why the hell is that so difficult for you to understand, Fog? Why must you always assume that I did something? Clearly she wasn’t who I thought she was because she couldn’t accept me and what I do. Who I am .”

SHE ACCEPTED YOU. BRAIN DEAD AND ALL. WHY CANT YOU AT LEAST MAKE AM EFFORT AND MEET HER HALFWAY????!!!!!! MATTHEW. PLEASE. I AM BEGGING YOU. 🥹🥹🥹

“Ahh,” Foggy said, pushing off the counter. “This is because of Daredevil. I figured as much. So tell me what happened then, because I’m about to slap you upside the head and tell you you’re wrong.”

Daredevil works hard ... but Foggy works harder ..by cleaning up Matt's mess. Foggy, baby, I'm sorry that this trick ass hoe is messing with your schedule. It will never happen again 😩😩😩

“Okay, so,” Foggy continued carefully, “if I’m understanding this right, you’ve been canceling plans on your girl for a while now and she’d been upset about that. And then she comes and says she really needs to talk to you, and you what? Bail on her again? Quite aggressively, I’m gathering?”

✨ IN FRANKLIN PERCY NELSON WE TRUST, YALL. ✨ 🕊️

He’d hurt you, too. Long before you’d hurt him.

Matt scoffed, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’m sure Daredevil showing up on her fire escape would go over real well with her right now.”

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

please tell me he does that and he hears the lil baby devil's heart beat and mistakes it for the reader moving on with another person. MAKE IT LONG AND ANGSTY THAT IT MAKES ME SICK TO MY STOMACH HURLING CRYING SCREAMING. Please and thank you 💕

additional thots:

- Karen and Foggy are working over time, they should be paid for it honestly.

- Cannot wait for Matt to to grovel, ik ive been saying this since ch.01 but listen...I AM WEAK FOR A MAN GROVELING. KNOWING THEY WERE WRONG. THERE'S JUST SOMETHING ABOUT IT, OKAY?!?!

- also........I CANNOT WAIT FOR THE MAKE UP SEX THAT WILL EVENTUALLY HAPPEN. IDC IF ITS ROUGH AND HARD OR TENDER AND SOFT. BUT PLEASE PLEASE MAKE THEM CRY OUT OF PLEASURE, PAIN, AND RELIEF. 😌😌😌

This fic is so good. I've been waiting to read every update after work so I can focus on feeling the angst ✨

Seeking Forgiveness [Part Three]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3k

[Full summary and installment list for this series can be found here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains angst, emotional hurt, delayed comfort, pregnant Reader

a/n: This one is entirely in Matt's POV and I'm curious to see how y'all react to his side of things! Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag List: @mattmurdocksstarlight @just-going-through-the-motions @paracosmic-murdock @yeonalie @auroraslibrary @1988-fiend @will-delete-this-later-probably@two-unbeatable-beaters @danzer8705 @ragamuffin285 @callmebrooklynbabes @spookyboogyuniverse @peachy-aisha @stevenknightmarc @nerdytreeflower @fucktthisworld @remuslupinwifee @kmc1989 @mywellspringoflife @thornbushrose @yarrystyleeza @shiorimakibawrites @thychuvaluswife @marvelcinematiquniverse @vallovesthedilfs @scoliobean @this--is--music

The ear-splitting and repeated honking of car horns on the street below harshly woke Matt, the sound shrill and piercing first thing in the morning. Seconds later the continuing noise drew forth a pounding headache that reverberated painfully in his head. Gritting his teeth in frustration, he rolled onto his side with a groan, his entire body loudly protesting the movement. He could feel a few new bruises he'd added to the others already scattered around his body, the new ones violently throbbing along his lower back and his left shoulder as consciousness abruptly returned to him.

Matt had been out well into the early morning hours running around Hell’s Kitchen tracking a man by the name of Petrov. He was the man that Matt had recently come to learn was the current leader of the Russian mafia now settled in his city. All of last night he had been trying to figure out where the new shipment of drugs would be coming into Hell's Kitchen at, but he'd yet again come home without the information he'd wanted. In a sour mood, he'd taken his anger out on a mugger while returning to his apartment, leaving the man more battered than he probably should have.

And his sour mood quickly returned when he realized he was alone in his bed again, the cold from the lack of you often curled under the sheets with him exceptionally noticeable this morning–more than it had been for the past few weeks. Because you had left him, deciding not to stay and wait for him to return the other night. Leaving him like everyone else always did, unable to accept that he and the Devil were the same man. That he needed to let that other side of himself out to protect Hell’s Kitchen.

But it sure as hell hadn’t felt like that to him the other night. Not with how quick you were to reject him and walk out on him. You’d never tried to reach out to him all of Friday, either. Whatever important thing you’d wanted to discuss with him the other night must’ve been what he’d initially suspected it to be. That you wanted to end the relationship. Truthfully he hadn’t wanted to hear you say the words out loud which was partially why he didn’t want to give you a chance to speak.

Matt knew he'd been canceling plans on you repeatedly, though he admittedly hadn't realized just for how long he'd been doing it with the way his days had been blurring together from his lack of proper sleep. But it hadn't been intentional. He hadn't meant to hurt you and he'd felt terrible every single time he had. It always nagged at him while he was out, the memory of the way your heart stuttered each and every time you saw him in his suit never far from his mind as he tried to focus on his late night task.

And it wasn't like he was out cheating on you or ditching you for his friends. What he was doing was the equivalent of being needed at a job–because that's how he saw what he did. As a responsibility he had to the people of Hell’s Kitchen. He'd honestly thought he'd be able to make it up to you once he'd gotten the situation with the Russians under control, but apparently he wasn't important enough for you to wait for him. And sure, he had to admit that he'd been awful to you the other night with the way he'd spoken to you, but the judgment and rejection from you had really upset him, as did the fear of hearing you tell him you were done with him. So he'd closed himself off to you, hoping to lessen how much you leaving him would hurt.

But Matt didn’t want to think about that this morning. His head ached enough from all the physical exertion last night and from not getting enough sleep. Those damn cars honking had ruined whatever sleeping in he hoped he’d have this Saturday morning, the sound of the city far too loud for him to lay back down and fall asleep now.

Though if you’d been here–

With a growl Matt tore the sheets off of himself, tossing his legs over the side of his bed and shoving all thoughts of you to the side. He didn’t want to think about you right now. He wanted coffee, desperately hoping that would wake him up and help the throbbing of his head.

Shuffling out of his bedroom, half limping in pain as he walked, he navigated his way through his living room and into the kitchen. He went straight for his coffee maker, turning it on and preparing a pot of coffee. He knew he was going to need a few cups already.

As the coffee brewed, Matt leant his back against the kitchen counter. His eyes closed as he ran a hand over his tired face, aware that his apartment seemed noticeably quieter and lonelier without you here. He’d been noticing that for weeks now, and every time he did he felt his heart sink a bit in his chest. Though this morning he almost felt sick at the emptiness here, as if someone had punched him right in the gut when he realized you were never coming back.

But you’d made that choice, he reminded himself. You had walked out on him. That thought only had Matt grinding his teeth together, anger coursing through him.

You weren’t the woman he’d thought you were after all. And that hurt.

The coffee machine began to sputter out his coffee, the noise loud and irritating to his ears this morning. Matt turned around, reaching a hand up to grab a mug from the open shelf on the wall. But a round of knocks coming from his apartment door rang out and he hesitated, his hand hovering just before the row of coffee cups. Brows furrowing together, his head shifted over his shoulder as he wondered how he’d been so absorbed in his thoughts that he hadn’t realized someone had approached his door. Though after a few seconds he soon realized that it was Foggy standing in the hallway and flipping through some paperwork that he’d brought with him.

Matt’s hand dropped to his side and he turned, a frown settling on his lips as he made his way through his kitchen and down his entryway hall. He unlocked the door, briskly swinging it open. It didn’t escape his notice how Foggy had startled in the hall at the abruptness.

“Fog,” Matt greeted flatly.

He could practically feel the way his friend’s eyes scanned over him, the sound of Foggy’s face shifting into a frown not lost on Matt. He imagined the bruises were quite visible, especially since he hadn’t managed to put a shirt on.

“You look like shit, Matt,” Foggy stated bluntly. “How long were you out last night?”

Matt turned, leaving the door open as he half-limped, half-shuffled his way back down the entryway hall. He listened as Foggy stepped inside, closing the door after himself before slipping out of his shoes. By the time Foggy had followed Matt into the kitchen, Matt had already managed to pour himself a cup of coffee, drinking a sip of it black.

“You want some coffee?” Matt asked him, avoiding the initial question.

“No, I’m good,” Foggy answered slowly, resting his arms on the kitchen counter and leaning over it. “I had some earlier before I left to come deliver the documents I told you I was bringing over this morning. Which I’m guessing…you forgot about, judging by the fact that it looks like you just rolled out of a dumpster that you used for a bed.”

Matt’s lips pursed together at Foggy as he drew his mug back up to his mouth, his eyes narrowing in obvious irritation. “Not a morning for jokes, Fog.”

“Is there ever with you lately?” Foggy grumbled.

Matt drank down more of his coffee, the throbbing of his head not helped by the way Foggy was drumming his fingers along the countertop. He could hear the way his friend was looking around his apartment, probably noticing the way it had looked neater than usual. Which was due to the fact that neither of you had been in his apartment much for the past few weeks. The moment he heard Foggy’s mouth open, inhaling that small bit of breath, Matt knew what he was going to say. And it wasn’t a subject he wanted to discuss.

“Where’s your other half?” Foggy asked, glancing back towards the closed bedroom door, entirely missing the way Matt had winced at the question. “Thought she usually spent the weekends with you. Is she still asleep?”

Matt ground his teeth together, roughly exhaling a sharp breath. He knew he’d ask about you.

“No, she’s not here,” Matt replied coldly.

He heard the way Foggy had stiffened against the counter at his words and the tone of his voice. Slowly, Foggy’s head turned back towards Matt. Matt’s lips thinned out in irritation, not liking the minute shift in Foggy’s posture.

“So the documents–”

“What’d you do, Matt?” Foggy asked sharply, cutting him off.

Matt’s hand gripped his coffee mug tighter in his fist, surprising even himself when it didn’t break in his grip. His jaw clenched at the question and the accusation from his best friend.

“What makes you think this was my fault?” he growled back, voice low and dangerous.

Foggy was nodding swiftly as if he’d known something had happened. He didn’t seem remotely affected by Matt’s obvious anger, clearly prepared to discuss this more. That only annoyed Matt further.

“So you two broke up? Karen and I thought as much with the way you’d been mopey and snippy around the office yesterday,” Foggy said. “What happened? Because one minute you’re telling me she’s the one, that she’s going to move in with you soon, and the next–” he waved a hand around the apartment, “–you’re a damn bachelor again. So what’d you do? Because I know damn well she didn’t end things, not with the way she always looked at you like the sun rises and falls out of your ass, Matt.”

Matt stalked across the kitchen in aggravation, slamming his mug down onto the counter that separated him from Foggy. The hot liquid splashed over his hand as Foggy briefly jumped at his outburst. The faint scent of fear soon hitting his nose was what had Matt’s eyes snapping shut, aware he was getting too riled up at this topic. That his anger was finally starting to make Foggy nervous.

Because it was about you and it hurt.

“She said she had something she needed to tell me,” Matt replied through clenched teeth, trying to rein in his frustration and heartache. “But I needed to go out as Daredevil. I was planning to interrupt a meeting with the Russians. The ones I’d been telling you about.” He exhaled a sharp breath, his left hand clamping onto the kitchen counter as he continued, hoping to ground himself and control his rage. “She was upset that I was going out again when we’d had plans. Said she really needed to talk to me. So I told her she could tell me afterwards when I came back and she got upset.”

There was a brief silence following his explanation, Matt hearing the way Foggy’s head had shifted to the side.

“And you were…growly Devil when you were talking with her weren’t you?” Foggy asked, gesturing a hand at Matt. “Like you are now?”

Matt grunted, shame burning through him as his eyes once again fell shut. Yes.

“Maybe,” he grumbled.

“That’s–that’s not exactly right,” Matt said, shaking his head. “I didn’t bail on her. The city needed me, Fog.”

“Sounds like she needed you more, buddy,” Foggy countered.

Matt’s eyes snapped open, his sightless gaze landing somewhere near Foggy in a glare. “I gave her the option to stay and wait for me to come back. To tell me what she needed to then. She chose to leave. I haven’t heard from her since, so I’m guessing her important talk was about her wanting to tell me that she wanted to end things. That she couldn’t handle me being Daredevil after all.”

Foggy scoffed, shaking his head at Matt. He could hear the way his friend’s mouth had yet again curved into a frown. Something like guilt twisted in Matt’s stomach at the way that night had played out but he quickly buried it under his anger and hurt.

“Why do you do that?” Foggy asked softly.

“ What ?” Matt snapped.

“This,” Foggy answered, waving a hand frantically at Matt. “That self-sabotaging thing you do. Things were good with you both. Great, actually. You were happy , Matt. And then you go diving into your hero bullshit and push people away. Making assumptions about her wanting to end things like you know that’s exactly what she wanted to talk to you about.”

“I do not self-sabotage,” Matt shot back.

“Then why’d you push her away?” Foggy countered.

“Because the city needs me!” Matt exclaimed in exasperation, throwing his hands on his hips. “You know that and she knew that!”

A glaring silence settled in Matt’s apartment after his loud outburst. Matt’s tongue slipped out, wetting his lips repeatedly in his agitation. He heard the very faint sigh Foggy emitted, even with the way his headache had worsened.

“I think you’re reading things entirely wrong, man,” Foggy said, tone softer. “I don’t think she was trying to break up with you. I think you fucked up. Big time. And judging by the way you’re incredibly defensive and angry, you really, really love her.”

Matt’s nostrils flared, his eyes still glaring sharply in the direction of his friend. Though a part of himself was beginning to wonder if maybe, just maybe, Foggy was onto something. At least, about him fucking up. He was still pretty certain you’d wanted to break up with him. Because he had been canceling plans on you for weeks now. And you’d been getting hurt by him doing that pretty quickly, too. And he’d noticed, but he kept on putting off making things up to you because he’d been too focused on prioritizing the Russians. He’d hurt you, too. Long before you’d hurt him.

That guilt and shame stirred in Matt’s stomach again, threatening to overtake his own rage and heartache. But he couldn’t have been wrong about what you’d wanted to talk to him about, right? Because what else could it possibly have been besides an ultimatum for him to quit being Daredevil and to choose you instead?

“I think,” Foggy continued slowly, “that you need to go call her up. Put your tail between your legs and go beg for her forgiveness, Matt. Because you fucked up, admit it. I can see that realization dawning on your face right now, buddy. Talk to her. Apologize on your goddamn knees every day until she takes you back. Because we both know she was the best damn thing that ever happened to you.”

“She was,” Matt whispered, his gaze dropping down to the floor. “She always was.”

“Then go get her!” Foggy exclaimed, slamming his fist onto Matt’s countertop. “Fix things!”

He stepped around the kitchen counter, reaching out to slap Matt good-naturedly on the shoulder. Matt winced at the gesture when Foggy’s hand landed on a bruise and Foggy quickly muttered out an apology.

Rubbing his arm, Matt let out a sigh. “How am I supposed to fix things, Fog?” he asked. “What if she really doesn’t love the part of me that is Daredevil like she thought she did? I can’t give this up. I’m not going to.”

“There’s no way that bullshit is the reason,” Foggy told him. “Not with all the different ways she’s been there for you and your vigilante ass this whole time, Matt. She loves Daredevil just as much as you. But as for fixing things?” Foggy shrugged, shaking his head. “I don’t know, man. I think your first step is to reach out to her, though. Try to get her to talk to you. Apologize and maybe find out what it was she needed to tell you. Because I’m guessing knowing what that was will tell you how royally you fucked up here.”

“Yeah,” Matt said with a sigh. “You’re probably right. Though I have a feeling she’s not going to want to talk to me.”

“You just keep trying until she does,” Foggy told him. “And if all else fails, maybe you can romantically show up on her fire escape and profess your love to her or something?”

Matt scoffed, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’m sure Daredevil showing up on her fire escape would go over real well with her right now.”

#matt murdock x reader #reread

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sebsxphia · 3 years ago

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i -

it’s not even seven, i shouldn’t even be awake

but brain said thots and who am i to deny

this did come to my barely awake mind with poly!gun bc dumb baby but like this is so jake (or rhett)

you know they like brats, they love putting someone in their place and their absolute favorite is when their pretty little brat is acting like a cock slut and not listening so instead all they get is a finger

slips just a thumb in your mouth “oh pretty girl did you really think you were good enough for my cock today?”

that dark laugh that’s just so vfkxgskd “you can try again tomorrow”

and they would wait a whole day, fucking degrading and full on denial of any wants

“smart mouths don’t get to be filled”

🦝 lovingly a tired trash coon

that’s all good my dear anon!!! the thots cannot be denied, and that’s okay 😌

i love this so much omlllll!!!!!!

jake is a massive brat tamer and i know he will slip his thumb into your mouth to keep you quiet or just to tease you seeing as you have such an oral fixation and you’re so desperate for his cock.

because you’re just their dumb baby who can’t go without their cocks, their denial is just making you more bratty and they’re getting off on it as each hour passes. they just wanna break their dumb baby down until even the slightest of touches will have you coming. “desperate bunny, we’ve barely even touched you!”

also!!!! are we throwing rhett into this mix??? because lets!!!!

thank you so so much for this my dear trash coon!! mwah!! 💌💖

#💌you’ve got mail #🦝 anon #poly!squad #jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #robert bob floyd #rhett abbott

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blackkatmagic · 3 years ago

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No idea why, but for the past month or so, a Jon/Alpha-17 fic you talked about writing has been stuck in my head rent free. My brain just said, no thots, only Jon being ordered by DW to join the war and taking over the 501st. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

;)

It likely is selfish. Jon ducks his head, trying not to look at her full-on, and says roughly, “I work best alone, in the Outer Rim, where the Force calls me.”

Dark Woman snorts. “You’ve grown attached,” she says, and Jon freezes, tensed for a blow. “Attached to the life you’ve established, your patterns and your friends. Jedi must not grow too fond of each other, padawan. That way lies the Dark Side, and emotion you cannot control.” A hand touches his chin, pulls it up, and Dark Woman meets his eyes, her own narrowed and assessing. “We all have the Dark in us, padawan, and we must keep it chained. Do not tempt it out of your soul, do not give it ground like this, or you will fall, and I will put you down myself.”

Jon's breath shakes as it escapes him, and he bows to her, not able to speak. She’s correct. He’s…glad for his life as it is. What he’s built isn't routine, isn't stable, and he’d thought he was safe with no possessions, no ties, but—

What are Fay and Nico and Knol but ties? He should have realized. He should have thought.

There's a quiet breath, more annoyed than anything, and Dark Woman rests a hand on top of his head for a moment. “Don’t hide,” she says. “Straighten your spine. You're a Jedi, and there is no room for cowardice. The Council will give you a posting, and I expect you to take it, regardless of your distaste. This is the duty of a Jedi, to defend the Republic, and at this moment the Republic is threatened. Be mindful of your failings, and overcome them.”

Jon swallows, but straightens, and Dark Woman looks him over for a long moment and nods once. “You have no name,” she says. “Just a task.”

“Follow the Code,” Jon says quietly. “Serve the Republic.”

“Acceptable.” Dark Woman turns, exiting the lift with a sweep of dark robes, and Jon follows, trying to fight down his nerves. He’s never been to the Coruscant Temple—even for his Knighting, Dark Woman requested that Council members come to them, rather than the other way around. He’s certainly never stood before the assembled High Council before, but Dark Woman insisted. It feels…exposed. There are too many windows here, and too many minds, and Jon has spent time on Nar Shaddaa, but even that was nothing in comparison to this. It aches, like too many senses thrown open wide, and he can't even feel the Force with the same certainty that he usually can.

Or, Jon thinks grimly, he can't feel the Force because he’s tangled up in fear and doubt, exactly the way a Jedi shouldn’t be.

It feels as if he’s reeling. He’d been intending to entirely ignore the Council’s order for Masters to return to Coruscant, to keep working the way he normally does, wandering where the Force called him. Not just him, either—Knol and Nico had mentioned the same plan, and nothing has brought Fay back to the Temple in centuries. But—

Dark Woman is right. He was trained to fight, was raised to obey the Republic and the Council. Trying to avoid that was unacceptable, and he shouldn’t have. Jon's stomach twists, and he closes his eyes, reaching for peace, reaching for acceptance and the release of emotions.

He’s always been weak, always grown attached too easily. He needs to be better.

With sure steps, Dark Woman leads him right to a wide round door, waving it open with a pass of her hand. It slides apart in two sections, and Jon almost flinches at the weight of twelve stares suddenly fixed on them.

“Pardon my interruption, Masters, but I have news. You put out a call for Jedi Masters capable of leading,” Dark Woman says, stalking right out onto the inlaid floor between the seats. “And I believed you overlooked one.”

At the very edge of pale brown stone, Jon hesitates. That last step through the doorway seems the hardest, seems like an impossible commitment. But—

He knots his fingers in the sleeves of his robe and pushes himself forward, following behind Dark Woman. One step, then another, and it’s unfamiliar ground, exposed beneath the stares of too many Jedi he’s never met, but he does it.

Jedi aren’t cowards. Jon won't lethimself be a coward.

“Master Kuro,” Yoda says after a long pause. “Long, it has been, since you were last here.” His gaze rises, fixes on Jon, and Jon stops where he is at the edge of the circle. He bows, deep, his hands folded in front of him, but his throat is too tight to speak.

Dark Woman’s mouth tightens faintly at the use of her old name, but she inclines her head. “Forgive me for my absence, Master Yoda. I suspected that several Jedi had been missed in the recall, and I had thought to alert them personally to the outbreak of active war.”

Yoda hums, a sound of attention even if his eyes are still on Jon. “Master Antilles. Reported dead, you were, last year.”

Dead. Again. No wonder the summons didn’t reach him personally, Jon thinks, and hides a grimace. “I was unaware, Grandmaster,” he says hoarsely. “Forgive me.”

Yoda huffs, and there's amusement in his gaze as he taps his stick lightly against the footrest of his chair. “Glad to meet you at last, I am, Master Antilles. Rare it is that a Jedi does not start in the crèche, hrm?”

#o these paths galactic #my writing #kat answers

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sebsxphia · 1 year ago

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So you find yourself flat on your stomach on Joel’s bed as he pounds into you from behind, setting a brutal pace and putting all of his weight into every harsh thrust. His body warm, chest plastered to your back as he fucks his frustrations into you, his staggered grunts of “good girl” and “take it” breathed directly into your ear as you try to keep yourself quiet. Nothing but little ah-ah-ah’s falling from your lips and into the soft fabric of Joel’s pillows as he fills you to the hilt every time, practically splitting you in two with every hard punch of his hips, tears in your eyes as you fall apart embarrassingly quickly on his cock 🫠

Lying you flat on your stomach so he can be as close to you as possible with his strong body covering yours. Setting a slow but rough pace, punctuating each hard thrust of his hips with sweet nothings whispered into your ear, telling you how much he loves you and how he can’t lose you. Relishing in all the little sounds you make, the way you’re unable to form any words, practically babbling underneath him with each deliciously slow drag of his cock through your fluttering walls every time he pulls out almost all the way before harshly slamming back in.

GAH! KRICKET! I DIED! LIKE DIED! I LOVE THE DUALITY OF MAN, SPECIFICALLY, THIS ONE MAN IN PARTICULAR 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

these parts made my stomach do the little flip-flip thing and my coochie twitch, on god 😭

i could feel the tension and the need when joel would walk through the door, like hghhhhhhhh. and you just know, you know, what he needs and you’ll happily let him have you in whatever way he needs.

AND THE “TAKE IT” BIT TOO? i have no words! he knows that he’s hitting every sweet spot to make you fall apart embarrassingly quick on his cock, and although this is about him releasing his tension, there’s a huge part of him which is so incredibly smug that he could do this to you, as he tells you to lie there and take it.

and then jackson era joel my beloved, i’m sobbing into my horny ass hands 😭 you’re babbling, practically drooling, as once again joel is making you fall apart embarrassingly quick on his cock, but this time his words in your ear are pure love.

the duality of that alone?! i just— hghhhhhhh. honestly, my horny ass brain cannot comprehend how much i LOVE this and i’m a firm believer that this would be one of joel’s favorite positions!

lemme lie down with you! and thank you so much for indulging me as always my love! you know how much i LOVE your thots 🤭 and how much i love you! ilysm! mwah mwah mwah! 🥰💗💓💕🫶🏻

kricket please your tag with joel…… i am thinking………………. so hard.

this contains smut, 18+ minors dni!

@sebsxphia 💗💗 EEEEEEEEEEEEEE SEB !!! I, TOO, AM THINKING SO SO HARD ABOUT THIS !!

I’m thinking about pre-outbreak Joel and the babysitter, maybe it’s been a long, stressful day at work for Joel and he just needs to let off some steam when he gets home late at night.

You can tell it’s been a day from the tension in his broad shoulders, tight beneath his fitted black t-shirt. From the tired look in his warm chocolate eyes, to the line between his furrowed brows that’s only made more prominent by the perpetual scowl that rests on his features.

You know it the second Joel walks in the door—from the way he barely grumbles out a few words aside from “Sarah asleep?” before he wraps his arms around you and buries his face in the crook of your neck when you answer affirmatively, the wiry strands of his beard tickling your skin as he murmurs about how much he needs you— that you’re in for it tonight and you couldn’t be more excited.

But also… Jackson era Joel ??? After he finds out—from someone else in town— that you almost got yourself hurt while out on patrol and didn’t tell him… oof he’d absolutely rail the fuck out of you. Lying you flat on your stomach so he can be as close to you as possible with his strong body covering yours. Setting a slow but rough pace, punctuating each hard thrust of his hips with sweet nothings whispered into your ear, telling you how much he loves you and how he can’t lose you. Relishing in all the little sounds you make, the way you’re unable to form any words, practically babbling underneath him with each deliciously slow drag of his cock through your fluttering walls every time he pulls out almost all the way before harshly slamming back in.

Oooooof I need to go lie down 😵‍💫

This is all I am going to think about for like the next several days 🫠🫠 thank you so much for sending this, my love!! I hope you enjoy and I hope you have a wonderful day, Seb!! Mwah mwah mwah ilysm!! 😘🥰💗❤️🧡💗

#sugarcoated-lame <33 #joel miller #fic recs

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sarahjkl82-blog · 4 years ago

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Ok, so the little line about Marcus being sad that Nush didn’t wear his hoodie gave me thoughts...and thots.

This would definitely be further down the line, maybe they’ve already confessed their feelings to one another but they’re taking their relationship slow, so dates mostly consist of movie nights, dinners at casual places, etc. But one movie night, they fall asleep on Marcus’ couch and he wakes the next morning to Nush coming back from getting them pastries & coffee...in his hoodie. And boy does it do something to him. He’s never felt this way about someone wearing his clothes before; it makes him possessive and all he wants to do is see her in his hoodie and nothing else.

My brain goes two ways on this: heavy make out session where Marcus let’s her know just what seeing her in his clothes does (lots of dirty talk) OR full on dom!Marcus picking her up and putting her on his kitchen counter so he can get his mouth between her legs and telling her what seeing her in his clothes does to him. I can’t decide which I thot I like more!!

These two give me so many thoughts and thots...it might be a slight problem

Please note that this work is not suitable for those under 18. Themes of consensual sex and swearing.

Beta thanks to @yespolkadotkitty ❤️❤️❤️

You think you are possessing me but I’ve got my teeth in you.

Angela Carter

What could be more coincidental than pouring rain greeting the pair of you as you leave the Prince Charles Cinema’s matinee of Singing in the Rain? The deluge that pours onto the street below invites a bloom of colourful umbrellas twisting and turning through the Soho streets- umbrellas that neither of you had thought to bring despite it being April in London. Enjoying the last few moments of relative warmth and dryness, your eyes flicker between a deep-in-thought Marcus, and the puddles outside those black rimmed glass doors that lie in wait for the pair of you.

“You are thinking very loudly, Mr Pike,” you remark shaking your head as a wave of consternation washes across his face, “Don’t you dare think about where the nearest shop is to buy an umbrella. It’s barely a ten minute walk to Charing Cross from here.”

Marcus releases a small chuckle as he shuffles his feet embarrassedly, his eyes shifting sideways, “How did you know I was thinking that?”

“At work, when you are questioning people- you’re entirely closed off which you need to be in for our profession but as soon as you go into hometime Marcus, your thoughts and emotions are painted across your face as clear as words on a page.”

A shy boyish grin creeps across his face, “Ok, I am a bit of an open book but you have the ability to read me better than anyone else,” he reluctantly owns, “I kinda wish I was a better liar and could come up with something else on the spot.”

Grabbing his hand tightly, you give it a small squeeze and a tug to let him know that he never needs to lie to you- a gesture that Marcus returns with a gentle kiss upon your forehead. “Come on you, let’s go run between the raindrops and head back South of the river before anyone notices that we came without our passports.” Your eyes sparkle wickedly at him as you raise your finger to your lips pretending to drag him into the silly North/South London divide.

“Still tickled by your version of the redneck, iced tea, Southern manners versus skyscrapers, yellow cabs and cold winters”,” he shakes his head slightly.

“My love, there is a lot you don’t get in regards to Britishisms- you still giggle like a teenage boy whenever I mention the word knickers,” you kindly reprimand him, “You’ve not even been here two months yet, give yourself time to realise that our version of pancakes are better than yours!”

You hear a sharp gasp emanating from Marcus in mock hurt as you blaspheme over his favourite food group. Cocking your eyebrow at him, you pause for a moment as you step towards the double doors that lead into roads where the coloured lights bleed across their oily surfaces. Marcus reaches around you to open the door, “I got you. Not letting you walk into doors today.”

It seems as if the moment that the two of you step outside, the heavens truly decide to open upon you, drenching through every layer of clothing right to your bones. Running through the winding streets with your hands tightly wound together, you and Marcus dodge in and out of the sprawling crowds of tourists with their leisurely pace and humongous golf umbrellas. When you are faced with a particularly large group, you split apart with Marcus diving towards a shop but you go too close to the curb when a taxi drives through a massive puddle, sending an icy tsunami over your head.

You stand there and gasp as the water constricts every blood vessel in your body, the shock coursing through your veins. Blinking the water from your eyelashes, you become aware of two hands bringing warmth back to your cheeks and two brown orbs gazing at you, “Hey, you ok?” Marcus scans your face, worriedly checking you over as he slides his worn leather jacket over your shoulders to try to bring some warmth back into your body.

Brimming with tears of mirth, your eyes crease into tiny crescents until the smile tugging at your lips forms the biggest grin as your whole body roars with laughter, “I don’t think there’s much point in trying to run between the raindrops anymore,” you gasp out between the giggles.

When you notice that Marcus isn’t laughing, you pause to draw a deeper breath, searching his face for clues. Your heart beats faster and faster as you notice that his eyes are black holes, pulling you towards him until gravity and time cease to exist. Heat rises through the chill of your skin- from your stomach to your throat- as his lips call to yours. When the sensitive skin meets, there isn’t a moment of hesitation to drink each other in as the taste of Marcus silences all of your thoughts.

All of your kisses to this point had been the tentative kisses of a new relationship. The kisses of two broken hearts starting to mend and learning how to allow yourselves to love again.

But this. This. This was different.

Marcus withdraws his mouth slightly from you, resting his forehead against yours as his breath dances across your lips, “Wow.”

And then he’s back. Fingers tangled in your hair, lungs forgetting to breathe as without a moment’s hesitation he deepens the kiss, parting your lips and searching for the soft sweetness brought by your tongue. As the moment swiftly intensifies, your hands seek him out as the only solid thing in the swaying world around you. Your fingers seek out the warmth of his skin beneath his drenched Henley. You feel him. All of him presses against you so that you can inhale the woody scent of his aftershave, the citrus notes of his shampoo and that smell that is just so utterly Marcus.

“So beautiful,” he whispers against your now swollen lips. His words ground you, placing a solid surface beneath your feet before he sweeps you away again.

The kisses eventually slow, becoming infinitely more tender than the raw need that pulses between you both. You are breathless, dazed and needing so much more. Your body aches for more than the Soho streets can offer you, confident in the knowledge that Marcus feels the same as you feel his powerful body tremble like yours. All that exists in this moment is feeling, wanting and needing each other.

A half growl, half moan comes from the back of Marcus’ throat as he finally breaks the kiss, “I have to get you home before I take you right here.”

Heart still racing, you just about manage to form words but your lust-filled brain mangles them making you feel drunk and slurred, “Whose home?”

“Mine. S’closer,” he murmurs into your mouth, “Don’t wanna be arrested for acts of indecency. Right now, everything I wanna do to you, falls into that category.”

It takes all you can muster, hearing that admission spill from his lips. All the willpower in the world, not to just find a darkened doorway and just take him there.

His fingers find yours again, peeling your hands away from the soft skin under his t-shirt- intertwining in undoable knots- but your bodies still press together as if you cannot bear to separate yet. You both take a moment to catch your breath, the rain still falling upon you in some heavenly benediction- mouths twitching into grins as your breathing relaxes and slows to a pace that allows for thoughts to re-enter your mind.

Marcus is the one to break the bodily contact, turning to one side, dropping one of your hands to start walking towards the station. You catch a slightly confused look on his face, “Not sure where the station is, are you? Come on, I’ll let you take the lead when you know where you are a bit better,” you snigger with a saucy wink in his direction.

As you go to walk away from him, he pulls you in closer and rumbles deeply in your ear, “You know I don’t have a problem with you taking the lead.”

The tone of his voice echoes through your skin, setting fireworks off through every synapse in your body and oh how it gladdens you to realise that he needs you as much as you want him.

✪✪✪✪✪

The journey home has been one of not daring to look at or touch each other too much. Sitting next to him on the train, your thighs leaning into each other, you both desperately try to focus on messing around with your phones. Him showing you various forthcoming art exhibitions in town and you showing him silly TikToks sent by your nieces and nephews of dogs being dubbed with computerised voices, giving their thoughts on cats and other dog breeds. Anything to take your minds off what you’d actually like to do with each other.

As the train pulls into the station, you pull him up from his seat and head towards the exit. Tapping out at the ticket barrier, you turn towards Marcus, going up on tiptoes to place a small chaste kiss upon his lips, “I’m popping to Sainsburys to grab some wine as I think we finished that bottle on Wednesday, didn’t we? Do you need anything else while I’m there?”

“Sweetheart, I can’t let you do that,” Marcus tries pleading with you.

“I cannot get any wetter than I am at this moment in time,” you implore before pausing as Marcus raises his eyebrows at you, licking his lower lip, stepping closer to close the minutismal space between yourselves.

“Quit making me stand in the rain, thinking impure thoughts,” he groans.

You push the heel of your hand into his chest, “Then go upstairs, run me a bath and find something dry for me to put on, then you can have your wicked way with me.”

Putting his hands on your hips and dipping his head to playfully nip at your neck, Marcus gives in as his lips mutter into your skin, “Ok, be quick. I’ll order some pizza and ice cream ready for you getting out of the bath.”

Your eyes roll back in your head and you release a satisfied groan at the thought of a warm bath and pizza. Especially that beauty of a bath in Marcus’ apartment where you can actually stretch out and entirely submerge yourself beneath the hot soapy water. You remove Marcus’s hands from your sides and turn towards the small store with its bright fluorescent lights blaring out at you through the plate glass storefront. As you go to step inside, you turn your head and see that Marcus has turned at the same time with that look in his eyes again. With a small wave and a grin, you step inside to find snacks and wine, not entirely sure that they would be necessary this evening.

✪✪✪✪✪

Bottles clink and packets of Haribo rustle from within your bags as you walk up to Marcus’ front door. You give the bottom section of wood a small thud from your boot, to which it opens with a significantly dryer Marcus, who takes the bags from you before ushering you in. As the warmth of his flat encircles you, you release a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding.

“Strip,” his firm, familiar baritone commands, holding an arm out for your soaking clothes, “Your bath is run and I’ve left you some clothes on my bed. You’d left a pair of panties from the last time you stayed over- I’ve washed those so they’re in the pile too.”

Peeling back the layers of clothing that had been so utterly useless against the torrential rain and draping them over Marcus’ arms- tiny droplets dripping onto his hardwood flooring, you soon stand there completely naked. Tossing your clothes in the general direction of his washing machine, he gently guides you with his warm hand placed in the small of your back towards the bath, which true to his word, is full, bubbly and welcoming.

As you step in, you look over towards Marcus inviting him in with your eyes.

With a small shake of his head, Marcus turns to leave you to soak. The quietude envelops you, so much that you are barely able to hear Marcus padding softly around outside this sanctuary. You lie back allowing the water to cover your ears- a complete sensory deprivation when your eyes draw shut too. Images that swirl with the heavenly taste and scent of Marcus, his velvet touch and the sound of his voice dance behind your closed lids as you allow the water to wash away London pollution and puddle water.

✪✪✪✪✪

Having reheated your body enough, the bath water turning tepid, you clamber out onto the deliciously soft bath mat that you know Andy picked out prior to Marcus’ arrival. Wrapping one of the towels Marcus has left out for you around your body and the other around your hair, you walk into his impeccably neat bedroom. Bed made, clothes ironed, folded and put away- the polar opposite of yours. Even the pile of clothes with your knickers on top, is neat.

The morning after the night when Marcus had first stayed over at yours and needed an iron for his shirt, you’d barely been able to locate in your memory where you’d last seen it- pointing him in the direction of the cupboard of doom- the place where half-baked ideas and good intentions go to die.. Everything is generally haphazard and a little topsy-turvy about you but Marcus, his sense of order calms your busy brain and you are noticing it rub off on you.

You hang your coat up on the hooks that you’d drilled in when you’d first bought your flat but never used until a month ago. You only now have one hanging chair, rather than utilising every surface available. You also attempt to only buy one bagged salad each week instead of pretending that you will eat more greens but then them definitely losing that green tone, fading into a brown slush before you remember their existence in that pathetic salad drawer.

Pulling up your knickers and sitting, no- sinking into the glorious mattress of Marcus’ bed, you haul the t-shirt over your head and shrug your arms into the sleeves of the hoodie before zipping it up at the front. You smile at a flicker of a memory where Jasper had moaned at you for stretching out his hoodies with your woman boobs. You also find it very sweet that Marcus honestly thinks that his shorts will fit over your thighs and hips so you leave them on the bed, choosing to leave the room in just the hoodie, t-shirt and underwear- albeit just on your bottom half as your bra was utterly soaked too and was probably going through his washing machine. That poor underwire! Nevermind, perhaps it’s time for something a little less utilitarian and a little more sexy.

Softly padding out from his bedroom, you spy Marcus’ broad back twisting in the kitchen as he seeks out plates and glasses in the cupboards. Pizza boxes lie on the side, their contents sweating condensation on the table below.

“I’m finally decent,” you declare with a flourish as you bounce into the kitchen, almost bounding directly into his chest.

Marcus spins at the sound of your voice, making sure to catch and steady you after your clumsy entrance, “No. You are very wrong there,” his breath hitching as he rumbles deeply into the shell of your ear, “No way. You could never be classified as decent, not looking like this.”

Another step and a slight twist of your body, and Marcus has your hips pinned against the cupboard. He places his hands either side of you, trapping you between the carpentry and the solid wall of him, his dark eyes flashing with lust as you feel him memorising every detail of you.

“Talk to me, Marcus,” you ask of him, running your fingers through his dark curls, “Tell me what’s going on.”

“You sure you wanna know?” he questions, stroking his fingers down the side of you, the sensation causing you to twitch under its tenderness.

“I want you to tell me everything,” you demand unblinkingly. Desperate for Marcus to finally tell you what he wants rather than constantly looking to please and pleasure you.

“Ok,” You see Marcus nod, his bottom lip slightly trembling, “It takes a superhuman feat of strength not to call you into my office everyday and fucking rail you right there into my desk, in front of everyone.”

Holy fuck, Marcus. Let it go.

“Monday, when we were working late and you grabbed my jacket to throw over your shoulders? Seeing how the shoulders swamped yours, there was... There was just this moment when I wanted to run my hands up that skirt, rip your panties off, slide into you and bite your neck, leaving marks for everyone to know you’re mine. I just wanted to possess every part of you and all because of you wearing something that’s mine.

“When we’re walking around galleries or sitting in cinemas together, it is all I can do to not find a cupboard to push you into or take advantage of the lowlights.I just want you to be mine all the time. I want to be surrounded by your scent- your hair, your perfume and your cunt - they’re this drug that I can’t get enough of. When you wear my clothes, they smell of you - makes me want to possess every part of you. I need all of you to belong to me.”

Your heart thuds in your chest as you allow Marcus’ primal growl to fill you with a searing heat that burns through the very depths of you.

“And now. Right now? Seeing you now in my hoodie and just your panties is so fucking tempting- so don’t you dare give me that comment that you are decent now.”

His hands finally move from their position on the counter to your hips as he lifts you, your legs wrapping around his waist unconsciously. The pizza unceremoniously gets dumped onto the floor as he settles you onto the cool work surface, pulling your hips slightly towards him. Unlocking your calves from around his waist, he pushes your thighs a little further apart, thumbs brushing upon the sensitive skin as he lowers his face so that you can feel his hot breath through the material of your knickers.

He withdraws slightly, pressing his lips in sweet kisses along the inside of your thighs whilst his teeth graze and nip at you, setting off a string of fireworks in your skin.

“Right now, I want to inhale you. I need to have your scent filling my lungs.”

His nose nuzzles into your lightly clothed slit searching out your sweet heady scent, brushing the damp material back and forth over your sensitive clit making it throb in anticipation. The sensations brought from his nose causes your core to pool around him, the small nudges sending your pulse racing through the roof.

Very few thoughts are able to exist in your mind other than the way you desperately want to wrap your legs back around him- this time around his head to lock him in place and keep his face glued to your pussy, stopping him from continuing this tantalising teasing.

“Now? Now, I want to taste you. I want drink that sweet fucking nectar from right here.”

Dipping his head lower, he licks teasingly at the aperture of your cunt, stiffening his tongue slightly to press the material between your folds. Your breath catches in your throat wanting to scream at his slow pace. You hook your thumbs into the elastic of your knickers at your hips, trying to awkwardly shuffle them off.

Abruptly, he stops. Pulling away from you, moving your hands away from trying to remove your underwear, “No,” he growls, “Leave them on.”

“Do you wanna know why I didn’t sneak those panties back to you at work or any of the other nights I’ve seen you this week?” He raises an eyebrow at you from his crouched position between your legs as you nod helplessly, your heart pounding in your throat, “I’ve been smelling them, thinking of your hot cunt as I rub my cock in the few moments we’re apart.”

Leaning forward, fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your bottom and kissing you hard through your knickers, he exclaims joyously, “Ah, honey, I fucking love your smell and taste! Sometimes, I can still smell your juices on my fingers at work and it makes my cock fucking throb, knowing that you are only two steps away from me. Professionalism with you so close is impossible.”

Your pussy throbs and yearns for a consistent touch as he returns his face to between your legs. Resting his forehead against your pubic bone, he returns to burying his nose into the dampest point of the thin fabric. This time, as he drags it upwards, he pulls his tongue stiffly upwards until he reaches that sensitive nub of nerves, catching it between his teeth gently tugging it.

You swear that every nerve in your body is on fire and nothing exists except you and Marcus. No one has made your body sing like this in its neediness. The rush of wild sensations sweeping across your body are equally thrilling and maddening you.

Teasing the material to one side of your pussy lips, you watch a smile unfold across Marcus’ face as he gazes upon you.

Never have you felt so wanted before.

Then with the same joyous abandon he has shown in kissing your pussy, he throws your thighs over his shoulders before sinking his mouth onto the sweet, bare flesh. The way that his tongue flickers so gracefully across your clit leaves you gasping. That familiar knot of pleasure building deep inside your tummy as he edges ever lower, preparing to tongue fuck you. Licking deeper and deeper into your cunt, you can hear the pleasure spilling from within you onto his tongue and oh how he drinks like a man dying of thirst.

You cry out in surprise as Marcus encircles his lips around your clit, sucking rhythmically and gently. The scruff of his beard tickling pleasingly the sensitive flesh as he works you towards your release. A guttural groan against your delicate skin is the point that sends you truly spinning over the precipice into pleasure, howling his name into the night air as your thighs tightly clasp him around his ears, his tongue still working you through that blissful high until your body drops every ounce of tension, relaxing into the afterglow.

When he moves back into softly kissing your thighs, you tug his glistening face towards you with barely a moment of hesitation passing between the two of you. Your lips meet again with the tenderness of an artist’s brushstrokes, Marcus painting the taste of you into your mouth with exquisitely delicious kisses.

He brings his forehead back to rest against yours again, with a total calmness drifting across his features. You shut your eyes and rest with him, safe. From his lust drenched words to the experienced motions of his tongue, you utterly resign yourself to the truth.

You have always belonged with Marcus.

You always will.

@yespolkadotkitty @astroboots @danniburgh @disgruntledspacedad @green-socks @zukoyonce @sirowsky @bison-writes @tardisfangurl @agirllovespancakes @leonieb @mrsparknuts @absurdthirst @pedropascalito @lunaserenade @mouthymandalorian @the-ginger-hedge-witch @theravenreads @lv7867 @songsformonkeys

#the mentalist #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #josé pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal edit #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal#marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #thanks for the ask!#send me asks

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variousqueerthings · 4 years ago

Text

The Karate Kid/Cobra Kai Star Trek AU ideas...

@phantomcomet talked about a Star Trek AU and then I went too far in writing this post imagining some roles in Star Trek. I’ve stuck to the adults from TKK/CK and maaaainly envisioned characters through the lens of Starfleet (although not only).

Anyway, here’s some thots! Any Star Trek/CK fans add more!

First things first: I did not think of a name for the starship Miyagi’s captaining, so I’m just calling it Miyagi’s ship for now. (The Bonsai doesn’t seem like a ship name really. The Crane Kick not so much either... The Cobra totally works though... anyway, someone have some ideas?)

Miyagi: Captain of the ship (later an admiral and then retires to take care of his bonsais). Obviously has a soft spot for Daniel, whom he probably spotted doing some whiz-kid stuff on a shitty, broken down civilian ship and took onboard. You know, you probably don’t even have to mess with his backstory that much to make it fit, he grew up on a planet on the outskirts of the Federation and saw some shit and is doing good, a la similar to Kirk’s backstory. He’s experienced abandonment from the Federation, so he may work within the system, but he’s fucking with it at every turn he gets and does what he thinks is right (a la Sisko. If Kirk and Sisko had a baby? Strange thoughts, but tell me I’m wrong).

Daniel: Engineer. Low key kind of a prodigy with engines. Engineers aren’t as often officer-class (unlike science/medicine and command, which I believe always are), so I can see Daniel coming into that from a less privileged space – definitely not the Academy – and initially butting heads with Johnny (as well as a bunch of others). He’s not head of engineering, but he works for the Lead Propulsion Engineer. Also he talks to the warpcore. You know he does. All the time.

Johnny: Security Babey! Also backstory is maybe he was trying to get into a command situation onboard a different ship led by Captain Kreese and he was the golden boy, but things went South when he was pushed to doing something he didn’t feel right about, so he was demoted for something bad that he’d done on Kreese’s orders and then couldn’t let go of. And he brings that baggage aboard Miyagi’s ship.

At this point people joke about Miyagi taking on lost causes and strays…. (but never to his face).

Ali: Doctor, of course! Did everything by the book and sometimes dreams that she’d let go of her parents expectations and could go out and do something outside of Starfleet. I feel like she might’ve studied with Johnny at the Academy and for a short while been onboard Miyagi’s ship with him and Daniel, but gotten transferred into a more specialised field at some point (chasing the dream).

Kumiko: Okay there’s three different things I see for her

1. Presumably this is a galaxy-class/exploration ship (similar to the Enterprise) and so civilians are also onboard. If Kumiko isn’t with Starfleet, maybe she was using it as transport as an incredibly famous dancer and there’s a whirlwind romance that can’t last vibe.

2. if Starfleet, definitely in Command somewhere. I kind of love her for a first pilot/flight pilot.

3. Command. Even if she’s not in Starfleet I can see her having command of her own ship: Quietly competent, but steely in conviction and capability, that’s her!

Kreese: Used to be a Captain, but quietly was ousted from Starfleet during an internal investigation that showed up a lot of problems during his command and even before that. Star Trek has depicted war, and bigotry, and I think Kreese would probably have some dirty laundry there (some of which hasn’t been uncovered). Still bitter about losing his command and losing Johnny and has some personal business with Miyagi that he puts on Daniel, like in the movies.

The OG Cobras: They were all on Kreese’s ship originally, but dispersed after the incident with Johnny. I wonder if only Bobby stayed on, studying intergalactic faiths and assisting in various first communications and interchanges.

Someone help me out with Jimmy, Tommy, and Dutch. Continue on in Starfleet, yay or nay?

Yukie: I caaannot see her as Starfleet. She obviously grew up with Miyagi on that planet and I feel like she’s heavily involved in the rebuilding efforts and has been her whole life. She’s traveled to earth multiple times to petition for relief efforts, and is incredibly anti-war – there’s a whole department dedicated to her work – wait is Yukie basically some hotshot activist who condemns Federation Neo!Colonialism… I feel like… that’s poetic… also you know where Kumiko gets her calm competence from!

Sato: I mean he’s some big-shot admiral while Miyagi’s still Captain and they have History! I think Sato bought into the Federation a lot more and is consistently angry at Miyagi’s choices and wants to initially trip him up, but he just can’t. And eventually they find themselves back home and patch things up – it’s the intergenerational environmental Trauma babey. You need to go back to the source to begin to heal.

Chozen: Speaking of intergenerational trauma… I mean, he’s gone through the Academy, he’s wound up as a combat pilot/second pilot on a great ship, (in this Sato isn’t captaining a ship, he’s risen in the ranks, but he’s pulling strings), he’s going through it. Unsure of what actually would happen, but I like him for combat pilot as a counterpoint to Kumiko’s flight pilot. Poetic.

Terry: OOOOKaaaay, who the heckening is Terry Silver in this? In canon I already HC him as almost a ghost, so how does that translate here? He’s an intergalactic crime boss, he’s got 50 different stories told about him (he’s an augment like Khan, he’s worked with Borg, he’s got contacts throughout the Federation, he came from the Gamma Quadrant) – only Kreese marginally knows him and knows he used to be an ensign, but before that… even he’s not sure…

Barnes & Snake: They work for Terry… do you think he’d do a longterm con of getting his own people into Starfleet through the Academy? I feel like he would. Officer Class, except Snake probably wound up in lowgrade security, I cannot see him having the brains to move that far up the ladder. I’m inventing a whole conspiracy now…. or maybe Terry hired Barnes after he got kicked out of the Academy, hmmm...

Jessica: I want her to be Science Class, so that’s what she is. Research and Development. Social sciences and Xeno-archaeology. She makes and collects gifted pots.

Carmen: She’s a nurse. I feel like she also came through in an unconventional way, possibly studying nursing in a civilian capacity and worked on civilian ships for a few years, using it as payment for traveling with her mom and her kid. Then, eventually, ends up on the same Starship as Johnny and Daniel and Co. (and now I kinda want to see her training under Ali, but in my head Ali left before Carmen entered the picture).

Rosa: I feel like the Diaz family didn’t grow up on earth – I’m aware that this puts people of colour mainly off-earth, but I’m thinking about Star Trek’s earth-metaphor as “paradise” (DS9) while it lets all the nasty stuff happen outside, which is… very similar to “first world/third world country” rhetoric + how in Karate Kid and Cobra Kai first Miyagi and then the Diaz family are immigrants. I think Rosa Diaz would get on with Miyagi – like a type of Guinan and Picard situation, where she’s definitely a civilian, but constantly ends up on conversation with the Captain and he’s not quite sure what exactly her history is. Also I’m imagining a lil toddler-Miguel on a big starship.

Amanda: Similar to Kumiko I can see Amanda in a lot of places – administrative? Officer class? Intelligence officer/analyst? Bridge crew? Captain-in-training? What are we thinking here? Also I wonder about her past, but that’s something I do in canon as well. I kind of like the idea that she’s worked incredibly hard for what she has, putting herself through the Academy, presenting the front of someone who grew up with giving parents on the “Paradise” of earth, but actually she didn’t…

#the karate kid #ck #cobra kai #johnny lawrence #daniel larusso #nariyoshi miyagi #amanda larusso #carmen diaz #rosa diaz #john kreese #terry silver #OG cobras #jessica andrews #kumiko #chozen toguchi #sato toguchi #yukie #ali mills #any mistakes - chalk that up to this being written and not checked through

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sometimesanalice · 2 years ago

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Jordannnn! I am obsessed that you’re obsessed! Because I am also still reeling from this one (the thots took over and wouldn’t release me!)!!! You are simply the BEST! Thank you for reading all the many snippets I sent your way and for helping work out some of the bits that I struggled with!

I’ve been plagued by this since January (or even before?) and now I’m freeee! What to do with all this space in my brain now that the thots have been set?! At lease Bradley and his Honey are THRIVING, lol

more belowwww

I think it’s safe to say that this particular Bradley has a wife kink, lol. He is OBSESSED with that ring on her finger. He likes seeing it everywhereeee and the way it feels under his tongue (and I OOP-)

When he catches her it’s feels like such a delicate situation. She’s flustered and a bit embarrassed, not from taking care of business (the man left her high and dry that morning, she didn’t get her usual proper send off! and its a heat wave! like a girl has NEEDS!) but from being unprepared for his presence vs it being something planned for them to do together (which in my head, these two love a bit of mutual masturbation, and love watching the other get all worked up)!

And “yes? i…maybe?” part was so important to me because it really was the MOMENT that set up this whole fic, so THANK YOU for helping me get it just right! There was a lot her response needed to do, and the feelings of being shy and unsure and vv turned on and interested. I think my favorite bit in that part was the “bradley, bradley, this is so hot” because in that moment she means it more about what they’re doing in that moment together vs just what they’re watching.

But that whole scene of him prioritizing her pleasure?? The man is a FEMINIST. And him breaking out the sonos and the 4k was just next level. I’m still in a tizzy! I don’t think I’ll ever get past it.

I don’t mean to make all my Bradley’s little drama queens, but like I can’t help it, because he really does the most! (that little moment where he throws his arms out and yells “you told me not to think”, like the man is a DIVA and I love him!) And trying to not make him seem like a total asshole for wanting to stay home was something I tried to be very conscious of, the birthday boy just had his own plans! (and in his defense he definitely thought it was just going to be some casual beers with the team)

Her apron amused me, and I did google cooking puns, but choose that one specifically as an ode to the Tom Cruise movie retrospective, lol.

And to think I almost didn’t include the party scene! But if I hadn’t then there wouldn’t have been such a cute moment between Mav and Bradley! The fact that he went to no less than SIX party stores because he wanted his son to have the best decorations is just the sweetest! (that’s his dad that’s his dad that’s his dad!) And Penny spilling the tea because you KNOW he wouldn’t have said a thing or just been like “gotta love that two day amazon delivery”, PLS she was like “file this under: things you need to know about your father”.

AND THEN THINGS QUICKLY SPIRAL FROM HERE!

I picked the red vibes an an homage to his helmet and don't ask me how I knew these kits existed because I literally cannot remember, but at least someone is taking full advantage of it!

My only little regret was not working in a line about how if she had come to him about wanting to bring a third into the bedroom that he would have been open to the conversation. Like he is SO gone for her, and while sharing isn't exactly something that he would put on his sexual bucket list, he would be do down to make whatever she wanted to happen. So while they find a compromise that works for everyone, he would definitely not shut down that conversation if she wanted to have it.

And bless her, Miss Honey is so desperate for him to understand that she's so happy with him! Like she doesn't need or want anyone else, and doesn't want him thinking that she feels like she wants more in any way shape or form. They're just so obsessed with each other in that way, lol (and I don't blame her!)

And the consent was so important! He doesn't even get the chance to fully tell her what he was thinking before she is ALL CAPS YES! Because she KNOWS that he wouldn't ever put her in a situation where she might feel uncomfortable. She knows that if he is approaching her with something, its because he thinks it's something she would enjoy too (and boyyyyy does she!) But I love the emotional intimacy that that allows for! That level of trust between them is so lovely!

AND THEN THINGS SPIRALED EVEN MORE AND WE WERE ALL 404-ING TOGETHER! WHO WROTE THAT?? Ma'am I WAS SOBER!

And then there was cake! Haha!

The thots were thot and Bradley had the best birthday because of it, lol! Thank you for all the woogirl hype, idk what I would do without youuuu!

Have Your Cake and Eat it T(w)o

Summary: It may be his birthday, but Bradley is determined to make all of your fantasies come true.

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X Female Reader

Length: 9K

Warnings: fluff, sweet smut, and downright filthy smut. MINORS DNI

[Author's Note: I apologize for nothing. But also, see y'all in a week 😅]

It had been a damn long day of flying.

A heatwave had settled over San Diego and Bradley had been sweating since before he’d even zipped up his flight suit for the day. It was only a couple days into June and the temperature was in the upper nineties, unheard of this time of year for the area.

By the end of their fourth hour of running flight simulations, everyone on the Dagger Squad were all sweat-sodden and miserable. Thankfully, Cyclone had taken pity on them and cut them loose for the day early.

Hot and uncomfortable, all he had been looking forward to all day was a nice long cool shower. One that he was hopeful he could coax you into joining with him.

It had been almost impossible for him to pull himself out of bed that morning. He had woken up to you soft and warm and draped over his chest. The high thread-count white cotton sheet rumpled around low on your waist, still naked from the night before.

Yeah, it had been really fucking hard. Both his cock and the way he had to drag himself out of bed without giving you a proper start to the day.

The blast of cold air that hits him the moment he walks through the front door was second best thing he’s felt all day.

Bradley was just about to call out to you when he hears a moan- a decidedly unfeminine moan.

And then he hears you.

He could pick out that sweet, breathy whine from anywhere. He’d made it a mission from the very first time he’d made you come to learn all the sounds of your pleasure, each new discovery was catalogued and filed away in his brain.

He doesn’t bother toeing off his boots as he makes his way to your shared bedroom.

The door had been left open and he is welcomed to the sight of your diamond ring sparkling brilliantly against your shiny, silken pussy.

You are so engrossed in whatever you are watching that you don’t even notice him as he leans against the doorframe to admire the irresistible picture in front of him.

He’d been missing you since even before he’d locked the front door behind him. The thought of getting you rocking and grinding on top of him was the only thing that had made his day slightly more bearable.

And the vision of you propped up against the tufted linen headboard splayed naked in bed as you circled yourself was even better than he could have hoped for.

His cock was already more than half hard as he took you in. Your rapid breaths, your perfect for him body, your wet fingers.

“Oh, this is a pretty sight.”

Startled, you nearly drop your phone. Knees snapping together from the way they had been butterflied out.

“B-Bradley,” you stuttered out, looking adorably flustered.

“Hi, honey,” he greets you, low and velvety.

The sounds of sex were still coming from the speaker on your phone. Wet slurping, desperate whimpers, and the unmistakable sharp, slapping noise of skin-on-skin.

You started to pull your glistening fingers away from the center of you, “I, um-”

There was nothing more he liked than watching you get yourself off, but he’d clearly caught you off guard. And it was more than obvious to him that you were feeling embarrassed about the way he discovered you.

You’re always beautiful, but he especially loves the way you look when you’re flushed and turned on.

“This is a nice surprise to come home to,” he says soothingly as he comes to sit next to you on the bed, “You look so pretty making yourself feel good.”

You give him a small smile, soft and shy.

“You’re home early, Roo,” you say bashfully before tilting your face up for a kiss.

He makes a hmm of contentment when his lips meet yours. Your mouth parts for him easily as you sigh into him. All the tension he had been feeling from the day melts away as you soften against him. Needing to touch you, he brings his hand up to stroke along the delicate skin of your neck.

A particularly loud cry surprises you both apart and you pull away from his embrace, sheepishly trying to exit out of the video that’s still filling the screen.

His mouth goes dry as he registers the content of that film currently playing on your phone.

There’s a woman flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat, stretched out between two large hard bodies. One in front of her and one behind as she takes both of their cocks.

He puts his hand on your wrist, in an attempt to pause your fumbling.

“You don’t have to stop on my account.”

You were avoiding meeting his gaze, and that didn’t work for him. Not in the slightest.

“I…oh-”

Your eyes fly to his and whatever you were going to say dissolves into reedy whimper as he takes your shiny fingers and pulls them deep into his mouth, while he holds your stunned gaze.

He had your attention now.

Savoring the taste of you, he runs his tongue over, under, between your fingers and then along the band of your engagement ring.

“Keep touching yourself,” he says, giving your fingers one more obscene lick.

It’s a request. It’s a command.

The noise you make gets caught in your throat as you nod at him before bringing you spit-slicked fingers back to the center of you, gasping softly as you make contact with your clit.

It’s takes a herculean effort for him to keep his hands to himself as he watches you tease yourself with featherlight touch.

He knows that you’d readily welcome his hands on that sensitive part of you, but you were pursuing your own pleasure and he wanted you to get off exactly how you needed to. Just because he wasn’t the one touching you didn’t mean he going to make you do all the work, he knew all the spots on your body that would make you quiver and quake.

And he was a team player, after all.

Bradley runs his mustache along your skin as he trails open-mouth kisses up the column of your neck. You shiver at the contact as you lean your head away to give him more access to taste you. He can smell your body wash from the shower you must have taken earlier in the day, its scent still lingering on you.

He teases you with his lips and his tongue as he watches the video with you from out of the corner of his eye as you continue to touch yourself for him, now with more intensity.

“Mm, that’s hot,” he rasps.

Your little noises paired with the ones coming from your phone make his blood thrum in his veins.

“Yeah?” you ask breathily, your hips shifting against your fingers as you seek more friction.

“Hell yeah,” he says, grazing his teeth against you. “Is this something you think about? Do you like the idea of taking two cocks?”

Your eyebrows pinch together overwhelmed as you work to try to cobble together an answer for him.

“Yes? I… Maybe? I-I don’t know. It’s just… Bradley, Bradley, this is so hot. Oh my god,” you release a needy whine, still circling your clit. “I haven’t really thought about it, you know, n-not really. Don’t need to because I have you, but I oh fuck-”

The high-pitched, breathy keen you release cuts off your self-conscious rambling as the video segues into a close-up of one of the men feeding his cock to the eager, rosy-faced woman, still glossy and slick from being inside of her, as the other man takes his place and thrusts inside of her with ease.

“It is, honey, it’s really damn hot.” he agrees with his eyes glued to you. You are mesmerizing. “C’mon, why don’t you give yourself something to fill that pussy? I want you to feel good.”

He knew just how wet you were, how much this was turning you on. He had seen it earlier and he could hear it now. His gaze bounces between synchronized bodies on the screen and the movement of your hand as you slide two of your fingers inside of you.

The sight is enough to nearly make him come in his flight suit.

“Have you come at all yet?” he asks, dropping a few heated kisses along the curve of your jaw.

“No,” you pant, your breaths quick and shallow. “Was close earlier.”

He hums contemplatively as he traces his nose along your cheekbone.

“That was rude of me to interrupt when you were doing such a good job taking care of yourself, wasn’t it?” he murmurs rough and low against your temple. “Let me make it up to you.”

Rooster opens up drawer of the nightstand next to him and pulls out the remote for the tv, turning it on. Your eyebrows pinch together in confusion when he takes your phone from your hand rewinding the video before casting it to the flat screen mounted on the wall.

He takes advantage of the way you open your questioning mouth to dip his head down and sweeps his tongue against yours for a deep, filthy kiss. All while the grunts and whimpers from your video fill the bedroom, now from the high-quality soundbar instead of your phone.

Reaching into the drawer once more, he moved to stand up and then sets your favorite vibrator next to you.

“Have fun, pretty girl,” he tells you with a wicked grin and a wink as he struts to the bathroom. Feeling very pleased with himself when he hears the quiet buzzing and the at the needy little noises you’re making before he closes the door.

The second he shuts the door he feels all his composure slip away has he rakes his hands through his hair. He had been trying to play it cool, but it had taken every ounce of his willpower to not beg to fuck you the way he had been dying to from the moment he had seen your diamond flashing at him against your silky wetness.

He works quick to get his flight suit off and releases a sigh of relief when he is able to get a hand on his hard cock. He had been sweating from the heat but now you had him sweating for a completely different reason.

Once in the shower he lathers himself in your luxurious yet overpriced eucalyptus scented body wash and slowly jerks himself off with a supportive forearm propped up against the cool, tiled wall. It doesn’t take him long to come at all.

So he washes off his body, shampoos his hair, and then works himself up all over again.

All while he thinks about the way you looked and all you perfect sounds he can’t hear over the water, but ones that knows by heart.

It’s been a few weeks since Bradley walked in on you, and he can’t seem to keep his hands to himself or to get nearly enough of your body.

He’s always had a high sex drive, a byproduct of years spent training and honing his body, but he craved you all the time. All it took was a look or a whiff of your body wash or the sound of your laugh, and he could be ready for you in a moment.

The first thing he registered most mornings was the smell of your shampoo from the way his nose is usually buried in your hair. The second thing is how perfect your body felt pressed against him, already hard and willing.

And nothing lulled him to sleep faster than feeling your heartbeat as it settled into a slow, steady rhythm after having set your pulse racing by getting you desperately writhing against him.

He always thought he had good self-control, that is, until he met you and you proved him otherwise.

On the morning of his thirty-sixth birthday, he couldn’t imagine a better way to start his day than getting his mouth on you.

Seeing your sleepy, satisfied smile pillowed in bed before he left for work did more for him than coffee ever could.

You had sent him on his way with a See you later, birthday boy and a saucy little wiggle of your fingers before burrowing further underneath the sheets for a few more blissful minutes in bed.

There had been a traveler of a smooth dark roast and a box of pastries left in the Ready Room with a from Mav inked across the top in his all caps scrawl. Rooster’s cheek had ticked up he noted that the box was filled with all of his favorites as he reached in and grabbed a bear claw.

The team was quick to demolish the treats, free food never went to waste in a room full of naval aviators with a high metabolism.

He had had a great day of flying. And to top it off he had pulled tone on Hangman not once, but twice. The push-up penalty was something they had kept up with from their time getting prepared for the Uranium Mission, and seeing Seresin sweat it out on the hot tarmac was just an added bonus to an already great day.

And things were only looking up because he knew you would be waiting for him at home.

He was in a great mood as he headed out to the Bronco, whistling to himself and thinking about the night he had planned for the two of you.

The keys he had been swirling around his index finger nearly dropped to the ground when Phoenix called out a sing-songy “See you later tonight, Rooster!”

That stopped him dead in his tracks, “Wait, what?”

He knew that the gleam in her sharp eyes meant she was up to no good.

“For your birthday, bird boy. We know you hate surprises, so we’re throwing you an unsurprise party. Figured a couple hour heads up would get you in the spirit,” she said with a sly smile. “Mav told me he even convinced Cyclone to have a team building day tomorrow, so I imagine everyone will be extra celebratory in your honor.”

Bradley wasn’t mad at the idea of a government sponsored beach day, but going to the Hard Deck was not on his carefully curated agenda for tonight.

“I can’t tonight. I’m pretty sure my fiancée made some plans for us tonight, sorry Nat.” He hoped the flimsy excuse didn’t sound like the complete bullshit it was. “Maybe we could grab some beers tomorrow?”

You had asked him more than a few times if he had wanted to do anything, and he kept hedging the question finding different unique and usually sweaty ways to distract you.

There was only one thing he wanted for his birthday. And it was you.

The thought that his friends might plan something on their own never even crossed his mind.

Well, shit.

“Oh no, she knows. Who do you think helped plan it?” she gloats, wagging her phone at him. Clearly reveling in his surprise and dismay. “See you later tonight!”

He didn’t dare challenge her further, not with that pointed look in her eye. Bradley already put his life in danger enough as it was, he was not going to get on Natasha Trace’s bad side.

But that didn’t stop him from dropping his head down on his steering wheel and groaning the second he was alone in his car.

He had been toying with an idea for a few weeks now. It was also probably the reason he felt so insatiable when it came to you lately, why he needed you coming against his mouth or around his fingers or on his cock any chance he could get.

And once it had crystallized, it was something he couldn’t get out of his head. It made is pulse pound erratically just to think about it.

It may be his birthday, but he had a gift in mind he wanted to give you instead.

His mouth starts watering the second he opens the door to the cozy craftsman the two of you had purchased together earlier in the year as the scent of vanilla wafts from the kitchen.

The sound of your pretty voice carries through to the front of the house as you sing along to one of the various playlists you have for whatever mood you’re in. It makes him smile as he listens to you for a moment before he closes the door, toes off his boots, and makes his way to you.

“Damn, it smells good in here.”

“Jesus, Rooster!” You spin around with a hand on your heart, wearing the Whisky Business that Mav had gotten you for your birthday, probably picked out with Penny’s help. Your face softens for a moment, as you give him that smile you always do when he comes home, before your eyebrows shoot up. “Wait! Close your eyes!”

You’re adorably flustered in the way you’re trying to use your body to block his eyes from the cake you’ve been working on.

He huffs an amused laugh, but does as you ask. Even goes the extra mile to bring his hands up to cover them, “There, happy?”

“Very,” you say indulgently. “You’re lucky I hadn’t started piping yet before you tried to send me to an early grave. Hate to break it to you, baby, but you’re not on my life insurance policy yet. If you were trying to score an early pay out before I even get your last name, you’ll have to think again.”

Bradley could not wait to marry you. He’d take you to the courthouse right this second if he thought that’s what you wanted. But he didn’t mind a few more months of waiting when he had forever to look forward to with you.

He can hear the crinkle of the plastic piping bag as you work, “And what if I’m just trying to score? You know, generally speaking.”

You boo at him congenially before laughing at his bad pun, a grin taking over his face at the sound.

Yeah, he was really fucking excited to make you his wife.

“Ok, I’m done now,” you say after a few minutes, “You can open your eyes now.”

You look entirely too pleased with yourself, there’s a playful smile on your face and you’ve got a mischievous glint in your eyes.

The glass cake stand behind you is covered with a kitchen towel, so he can’t even get a peek of at the creation through the glass dome even if he wanted to.

That’s fine, he could be patient. For the cake, at least.

You were a different story entirely.

He strides towards you and wraps an arm around your waist to pull you to in for a kiss. He can’t hold back his low moan at the taste of you. Your mouth is sweet and fruity, undoubtedly from sampling the frosting you had made.

“Mm, strawberry?” he murmurs against your mouth.

“Your favorite.”

Technically, his second. The taste of you would always be his favorite flavor, but he couldn’t wait to try that cake after he was done with you.

You pull away to grab the piping bag from the white marble counter, squeezing some of the smooth, tangy frosting onto your finger. You’re about to offer it to him when your phone pings next to you. You cheekily pop that finger in your mouth instead as you read the text, and fuck, if it doesn’t turn him on.

“It’s Nat,” you tell him, “She just wanted to confirm what time I was planning on delivering you to your unsurprise party.” Your thumbs fly over the screen as you type out your response before putting your phone back down and give him a very self-satisfied grin.

Fuck.

He had spent his commute home trying to think of a plausible excuse for getting out of the impromptu-to-him party. Fucking all rational thought out of his fiancée probably wouldn’t fly. Nor would a convenient bout of food poisoning, since he’d eaten with the rest of the team today. And Mad Cow seemed too far-fetched.

“Do we have to?” he asks weak and resigned, pinning your hand on his chest when you playfully swat at him.

He tries not to sulk, knowing he has to wait even longer to have you in the way he has been dreaming about, but the way your mouth quirks up amused tells him all he needs to know the success of that endeavor.

“Your friends want to celebrate you. I want to celebrate you, too,” you tell him, running a hand down his abs.

He knows he’s being dramatic, but right now he doesn’t care. Not when he can still taste you in his mouth.

“But I see them all day, every day,” he grumbles. He crowds you into the counter, pressing himself against your soft stomach, letting you feel how worked up he already was. “And I haven’t seen nearly enough of you today.”

“As if you didn’t have your way with me this morning,” you tease, sliding your arms around his waist, your fingers digging into the top of his ass. “Come on, it’ll be fun. You love being the center of attention.”

“I’d rather be in the center of yo-”

Your hand flies to his mouth, cutting him off.

“I swear to god, Bradley, if you finish that sentence I’ll give your entire cake to Hangman.” There’s no heat in the threat. The affection in your eyes evident, even as you exasperatedly shake your head at him.

He jokingly puts his hands up in surrender.

“Now that that’s settled,” you say with finality, “Go shower and get ready. I love you, but you smell like jet fuel and sweat.” You scrunch your nose at him before you press a kiss to his cheek and then lightly push him towards the bedroom.

Just not in the way he had been looking forward to.

Rooster had gotten himself off in the shower and even that hadn’t done anything to ease the tension that was steadily building inside of him.

He was having a good time, a great time even.

He was surrounded by all of his favorite people, the family he gained since getting called back to Top Gun. San Diego was home now and he had more than he ever hoped to get in this life.

The Hard Deck had been filled to the brim with strands of colorful streamers and clusters of balloons. A big banner had been strung up over the bar that read Happy Birthday Rooster. A large table was set up in the corner and was piled high with boxes of pizza, chips and dips, platters of poppers and roll ups, and other shareables snacks.

There was even a custom game of Pin the Jake on the Jackass taped up on the wall. He learned later that the idea had been Hangman’s contribution to the party, only after Seresin had boasted about his precision aim when he claimed his free beer for winning the game.

The sight had stopped him short and made his chest tighten when he had walked in and seen how much work had gone into decorating the bar for his unsurprise party.

You must have sensed his emotions because you had given his hand a light squeeze before pulling him further into the space.

Mav had been the first to greet him with a hug and a “You’re getting old, kid.” A moment passing between them.

Both of them knew exactly how long it had been since they’d celebrated a birthday together, and to be in this place again with the man who helped raise him meant everything.

“Yeah, yeah,” he jokingly grunted, giving him a light shove before clearing his throat, “You’ve still got a few years on me, old man.”

Mav squeezed his shoulder before stepping aside to let Penny cut in. She had been quick to wrap him up, telling him that drinks were on the house that night. And before she pulled away, she whispered conspiratorially into his ear that Mav dragged her to no less than six party supply stores trying to find just the right décor for the night.

From there it’s a flurry of faces and hardy handshakes and beers getting pressed into his hand.

Nat had curated the playlist with all of his favorite songs, Bob had made his mom’s buffalo chicken dip, and Hangman had promised to lay off the bird puns for the next twenty-four hours as a gift. And god knows, he’d take what he could get. It was perfect.

Then there was you.

You were wearing his favorite dress, he didn’t know if it was to tease him or to please him. Knowing you, it was probably both.

And it’s working because he can’t take his eyes off of you.

When he’d seen you coming out of the bedroom wearing it, it had nearly done him in.

“Honey, I’m begging. Let’s stay home. Do I gotta get on my knees?”

“Maybe tomorrow night,” you’d trilled leaning up to kiss him. Then you were gliding past him to the front door with an exaggerated sway of your hips. You left him no choice but to follow when you moved your body like that.

No one has ever driven him as crazy as you. Once you had figured that out, he never stood a chance. You knew exactly how to play him.

The only problem was no one left him alone long enough for him to tell you just how pretty you looked tonight.

Every time he thought he was going to get to have a moment with you, someone comes by to wish him happy birthday or to get him a shot or to pull him away for a game of pool.

Bradley had switched to water an hour ago. He had a vision for how this day was going to end, and he’d be damned if he didn’t get the chance to fuel some fantasies.

He loved Penny and Mav and Nat and Bob and everyone else. Even Jake. And he was having a good time, he wasn’t too proud to admit he was an attention whore and had been soaking it up. But he was desperate for you.

You were chatting with Mav and Penny over near the jukebox while he stared at you from across the room.

The bar was less busy than it had been earlier, but things were still very much in full swing. Probably due to Cyclone’s generous team building day that was planned for tomorrow, everyone was getting loose and loud.

“Rooster, man, the way you have been undressing your fiancée with your eyes is bordering on indecent,” Hangman drawls, sliding up next to him. “You’re making Bob blush. Now why don’t you grab your girl and get out of here, so that we can finally put on some good music.”

His cheek twitches as he bites back the smile, he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. He lightly shoves the smirking aviator, before patting his shoulder as he moves to make his way towards you.

You lean into him as he saddles up to you.

“Hi, Roo,” you greet him sweetly, “You having a good time?”

“I’ve had the best time, honey. But it’s been a long day, think I’m ready to head home now.” He’s grateful you have your back to the wall so he can let his hand drift from where it had been resting on your lower back, down to your ass.

He turns to the older couple and thanks them for everything. He feels a faint blush crawling up his cheeks at the knowing smile that Penny’s directing at him. Bradley watches as you hug them goodbye. When it’s his turn, Mav pulls him in tight, “Love you, kid, happy birthday.”

And with your hand in his he pulls you out the door, the sound of the music drown out by the blood rushing in his ears as he thinks about what’s to come.

finallyfinallyfinally

He pushes you against the door the second you get home and pins your hands above your head as he claims your mouth. Bradley takes advantage of your surprised gasp and slips his tongue in your mouth. Groaning when your hips rock against him in response.

This.

This is what he’d been wanting all day.

He wanted to be sharing your air, he wanted your needy noises, he wanted your legs shaking and quaking for him.

Still holding your wrists in one large hand, he drops the other to the short hem of your dress, and drags his fingers slowly up along the inside of your thigh.

“Wait, Roo, what about your cake?” The question is all ragged breath and teasing tone. He’s got his face buried in your neck, but he can sense the playful smile you’re wearing.

“Been craving somethin’ a bit sweeter.” He licks a long line up the side of your throat, “Nothing tastes as good as you, honey.”

“These puns,” you make a sound that lands somewhere between a laugh and a sigh as you drop you head back against the door. “You’ve been spending too much time around Jake.”

“Take that back,” he growls, nipping at your collarbone.

“Make me.”

A challenge. A request.

He grabs a rough handful of your ass before he hauls you up against him. Your legs wrapping around his waist immediately as you bring that hot mouth of yours to suck at the skin of his neck as he walks the two of you to the bedroom.

Bradley sits down on the edge of the bed with you straddling his lap, his hands are up your skirt and he’s gripping you so tight that he wouldn’t be surprised if he finds the contours of his fingerprints still on you tomorrow. You moan into his mouth and grind yourself against him as he strains against the zipper of his jeans.

He is so fucking hard for you.

Your breasts are so close to his mouth in this position and he is dying to get his mouth on you. He grunts out something unintelligible as he tries to pull the straps of your dress off your shoulders. And to his dismay, you pull away and move to stand up.

The blow of losing the feeling of you in his arms and pressed close against his body is lessened when your hands go to that floaty little hem of your dress as slowly pull it up and over your head.

And he swears to god in that moment his heart stops beating.

You are a vision. It’s almost painful how truly stunning you are right now standing in front of him.

His eyes don’t stay in one spot for long. They can’t. Not when there’s so much to look at. His brain only able to process small bits and pieces at a time.

Sheer. Skin. Lace. Skin. Red. Skin. Straps. Skin.

“Jesus fucking Christ. Are you kidding me?” he groans, raking his hands through his hair, trying to get a grip on himself. “You’ve had that on the whole time? Holy fucking shit, honey.”

Red. Red. Red.

You are feast for his hungry eyes. You are the rain to his drought.

Lace. Lace. Lace.

You are his everything.

Skin. Skin. Skin.

Bradley is off the bed in a flash and pulling you back into his arms for a filthy kiss. There’s nothing polite about the way his tongue invades your mouth. There’s nothing nice about the way his teeth graze your lower lip.

“Look what you’ve done to me,” he says as he grinds himself against you. “You’ve got me turned inside out. All day I’ve been counting down the hours until I could have you like this.”

He claims your mouth again, absorbing all your little sounds.

His hands coast over your body, his fingers tracing over the stitching of the thing that’s too skimpy to even be considered a bodysuit. The angular lines of the straps that crossed your body contrasted with the curves of your body and the panels of delicate lace of the lingerie that adorned you. The juxtaposition of it all was dizzying.

“I’ve been so good, kept my hands to myself during the party, didn’t throw you over my shoulder and leave with you after the second hour like I imagined doing,” he rumbles into your ear. “But I need you to know, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you touching yourself to that threesome video. All I can hear is the wet noises you made as your fingers worked yourself and your whimpers when you liked the way those men were fucking her.”

You suck in a sharp inhale.

He grins against your neck, when you make that exact sound that’s been haunting him for weeks, “God, that sound. I wanna give you everything you want, honey, everything you need. But the idea of sharing you with anyone else, I just- I’m all yours. And the idea of letting someone hear your needy sounds or-fuck- someone seeing your pretty face when you come, it makes me feel out of control.”

“Bradley, I only want you. I promise, just you.” You’ve got the fabric of his shirt clenched in your fists.

“Hey, hey, I know that,” he says soothingly, taking your face in his hands, “You’re wearing my ring, you’re all I want too, honey.”

Your eyes flutter at the admission and you say his name with a sigh.

“I’m so fucking desperate for you all the damn time. And if you’re willing to try something with me, I think I know how to give you-”

You cut him off, nodding rapidly, “Yes, Bradley, yes.”

He releases a little laugh at your enthusiasm, stroking your cheek with this thumb, “I haven’t even told you what I’m thinking yet.”

“With you, it’s always yes. Easily. Every time.”

His heart stumbles over the sheer amount of trust you are giving him. That he’s earned this gift from you, that you hand it over to him so unequivocally.

He wants to get down on his knees and propose to you all over again. He loves you so much, he doesn’t know how he lived his life until you waltz in and rocked his world.

Bradley pulls your face to his and shows you how much you mean to him with his mouth.

The kiss is all unreserved passion and heat, it’s deep and wet and thorough. Your lips on his, moving against him, taking what you want, giving what you want. It’s all he needs. And he loses himself in the feeling of being this close to you, getting to have you this way.

You are a flurry of hands as you work to pull his shirt off. Your fingers and lips skimming along the newly exposed skin of his body. He stops you with a hand on your wrist when you grasp him through his jeans.

“This is about you, I want to give you everything,” he tells you, voice rough with want. “If we start and you’re not into it, we stop. If you change your mind during, you let me know and we stop. And then I will happily make your legs shake in whatever way you want me to.”

You nod at him, your breathing coming out in quick pants.

“Nuh-uh, need to hear you say it. Is this something you want?”

“Yes, Bradley. I want to try this with you, whatever it is. I want it and I want it with you,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“And if you change your mind at any point?” he prompts.

“I’ll tell you.”

“Good girl,” he murmurs lowly as he holds your gaze, “Now go get my cock.”

Your eyes widen in a way that he would find amusing under any other circumstance, but right now, his resolve is being pulled taut.

He gives your waist a reassuring squeeze before he jerks his chin towards the bathroom. You pull him in for a quick, heated kiss before turning to go do as he asked, giving him a view of the barely there string of the thong that disappeared between the cheeks of your perfect ass.

He is quick to unbuckle his belt and shuck off his jeans, sighing in relief as he palms himself through his briefs.

The kit had been a gag gift that one of you had somehow ended up with after a very drunken and chaotic white elephant exchange with the Dagger Squad over Christmas Eve.

It had been comical at first when you’d gotten home and set the box on the counter, still tipsy off Coyote’s mother’s recipe for hot buttered rum, both of you a little giggly and a little curious.

It was less funny when you’d whispered in his ear for him to read the instructions before you’d dropped down to your knees in front of him in the kitchen, he’d had to read them twice before the letters on the page formed coherent words.

And then it was downright humorless when twenty-four hours later you fucked yourself on it. His knuckles white as he gripped the armrests of the chair he sat in as he watched you take and take and take.

You’d told him afterwards that you liked the real thing better, so it was something that you saved for when he was away for training or deployments when you were needy and missing him. Plus, the two of you had other things you liked to use in the bedroom.

He’s been teetering on the edge for weeks, the mental image of you taking both of his cocks has been driving him to near madness. And now you’re in front of him wearing that holding the opaque replica of his cock in your hands.

Rooster feels the last threads of his self-control fray and snap, “Get on the bed for me.”

It almost feels like a fever dream the way you crawl onto the bed. As you settle yourself in the middle leaning back on one arm, your breasts pushed out enticingly, and your legs propped open wide and welcoming for his greedy eyes, “This work for you, birthday boy?”

You make a squeak as he grabs your ankle and pulls you down so that you’re sprawled flat on the bed. He runs his hands up your thighs slowly, watching as the goosebumps trail in his wake. And then he roughly flips you over, sliding a couple of his fingers under the thin string nestled against the center of you, and pulls it over the globe of your ass.

You’re already glistening for him.

“Yeah, honey, this works for me.”

With the gusset of your indecent lingerie out of his way, he flips you onto your back once again. He takes a half-step back to kick off his briefs before coming to stand between your open legs. Rooster doesn’t think he’s ever been this hard in his life as he towers over you.

You’re all soft skin and red lace and kiss swollen lips and pupils blown wide with want.

He crooks a finger for you to hand over his cock. He likes the flush that is working it was across your cheeks as you pass it to him.

You’ve spent more time with this than he has, so he takes a moment examining it. The feel of it in his hand more familiar than he expected it to be. He’s not too proud to say it’s a good-looking cock, so he does. And then enjoys the way you dreamily nod in agreement, entirely enthralled with his hand is wrapped around it.

He holds your gaze as he brings it up to his mouth and spits on the head.

“Oh fuck,” you whimper, wide-eyed and rubbing your thighs together.

He smirks as he works the silicone cock like he would his own. Running his thumb under the wide, flared head. Treating with a turn of his wrist before stroking back down.

“Gotta warm it up for you,” he murmurs, whisky smooth.

Up. Twist. Down. Squeeze.

“Oh my god, Bradley. Fuck. Fuck me.”

Up. Twist. Down. Squeeze.

“I promise my cocks will treat you real nice, honey.”

“Only want yours.”

He brushes back some of the hair from your face as looks down at you. “If it’s too much, you’ll tell me. You’re the one in control here, got it?”

Your enthusiastic nod, fills him with something dark and smoky.

The diamond on your ring finger catches the light as you reach out for him and he climbs on the bed next to you, kneeling close to your head. You scoot yourself closer to him, turning your face towards him to press a few sweet kisses to his straining thighs before you take him in your hand.

He releases a soft groan when you start to mouth at his cock. Teasing him with little kitten licks, tracing the veins long his shaft. And then you’re sucking on his head, tongue flicking out over the slit. He drops his head back reveling in the sensation of your wet, hot mouth on him. As you give him exactly what you want to give him.

And then you’re taking him deep and moaning around him.

“Christ, that mouth. Keep doing that.”

You’re looking up at him with such need in your eyes, your fingers are digging into his hip as you squirm on the bed trying to seek some relief of your own.

“I got you, honey, I got you. I’ll give you what you need.” He leans over and lines up his twin cock with the center of you, watching as you give around the opaque silicone, “Gonna give you both my cocks.”

You pull off him and whimper his name, still working him with a hand as you press your forehead into his thigh overwhelmed by the stretch. He firmly pushes it all the way inside of you holding it there for moment as you gasp against him, breathing hard.

“Oh, I-” You gasp as he pulls it out completely, tapping the thick head again your clit before filling you back up again to the hilt.

He can’t look away from the way you roll your hips against his hand.

“Look at you, honey, already so wrecked and you only have one of my cocks in you.”

He can tell it’s a struggle for you to lift your head and look at him, never one to shy away from a challenge, and then it’s his turn to whine as you hold his gaze and take him back in your mouth.

You reach a hand up and run it up along his abs. His stomach tenses as you tease your fingers along him.

Rooster doesn’t know what he finds hotter the way your pillowy lips are wrapped around him or the way your wet pussy is clinging to his likeness as he pumps it in and out of you. Your cunt leaking around it, now slick and shiny with the evidence of how turned on you were.

“Holy shit, you’re so fucking wet. Can you feel how it’s just slipping in and out of you? God, you’re so fucking pretty like this.”

You moan your agreement.

It takes a bit of maneuvering for him to get the angle just right, with the slight give of the silicone, but he knows the moment it hits that spot inside of you from the wanton sound the claws its way out of you.

“No, no. You gotta keep those legs open for me so I can fuck you there too. Come on, take what you want.” He groans his satisfaction was you start to rock and rutt yourself against him, as you chase your high.

He reaches down and threads his fingers in your hair, gently guiding your pace, as you sucked and licked and drooled around him. You knew how much he liked it messy and you were treating him so well. You hollowed out your cheeks as you took him deep, gagging on him.

“I know they’re big,” he croons, “You don’t have anything to prove, honey. It’s the position, isn’t it?” You nod feebly, looking up at him with your big eyes. “Don’t worry, I know how good you are at taking me. You’re doing so good. Always make me feel so damn good. Such a sweet mouth.”

Your eyes flutter shut at the praise.

He collects the tears that are accumulating in the corner of your eye with the hand that’s not currently occupied by fucking you.

“You feeling good, pretty girl?”

“Feel so full, Roo.” Your body is covered with a sheen of sweat, he wants to lick it from where it’s collecting the hollow of your neck.

“Yeah?” he grunts, “Tell me how much you like this.”

“So much, so much. It’s so fucking good, oh my god.” You suck him back into your mouth, sliding you hand up the back of his thigh to grip his ass.

“Such a good girl telling me what you like and taking what you want.”

The two of you fall into a rhythm, you work his cock while he works you with its twin. He can hear how wet you are even over your needy sounds and his ragged breathing. Your body is writhing beneath him in pleasure.

He knows you’re close from the way you are whimpering. He leans over to get his fingers on your clit with his other hand. The change of angle forcing you to take him deeper down your throat.

“Want you to come on my cock, can you do that for me?”

Instead of answering him, you just bob your head up and down quicker along his length.

Your body is tight with tension as you moan around him. He can feel his pulse pounding as he works you with quick, short strokes until you’re crying out and trembling beneath him.

He pulls his wet, warm cock from your mouth as he continues to pump you full of himself as he draws out your orgasm, wanting to hear every sinful sound that comes out of your pretty mouth unobstructed. Stopping when he sees the signs of your sensitivity.

Bradley pulls the imitation of him from your spent body and sets it to the side, then he gathers you in his arms to hold you as you come down.

He tenderly brushes off some of the sweaty strands away from your face. Your eyes are slightly glazed over, but you’re wearing the softest smile for him.

With his thumb he glides over your full bottom lip, shiny with spit and his precum. He wipes it way affectionately before slipping it into his mouth, savoring the taste of both of you combined on his tongue.

You surprise him when you surge forward for a kiss, your arm wrapping around his neck to pull him on top of you. You’re loose-limbed and pliant underneath him. He loves feeling the contrast of your softness and the lace you’re wearing against his skin.

“How are you feeling? Do you need a break or do you want to stop?”

“I’m so, so good. I-I really like this, Bradley, I don’t want to stop. At least, not yet.” He slides a hand along your jaw, pulling you in for a sweet kiss. You sigh into his parted mouth, “It’s your birthday, but why do I feel like I am the one getting the getting the special treatment?”

“Oh honey, if only you knew how many hours I lost thinking about you like this,” he says dragging his mustache down your neck, letting his tongue dip out to taste the sweat on your skin like he had been dying to earlier. You shiver at the sensation. “I’m definitely enjoying this too. Thank you for trusting me and letting me give you this.”

You trail a finger down the bridge of his nose and lean in for another kiss.

“Well now I know why you’ve been so keyed up. Not that I’m complaining, but you’ve been relentless lately,” you say teasingly as you trace a finger low on his stomach.

He is reminded just how hard he still is, now that he knows you’re doing ok. Or in this case, more than ok. He can see the desire still in your eyes as you gaze at him.

He huffs and amused laugh. “Didn’t hear you complainin’, pretty thing. In fact, you sounded pretty damn greedy to me.” He drops his mouth to your ear, “‘More, Bradley’, ‘Harder, Bradley’, ‘Another one, Bradley’. Any of that ring a bell, honey?”

“Now that doesn’t sound like me.”

“It doesn’t?”

“Nope.”

“I must have fucked you really good if you can’t remember that,” he taunts proudly. “Huh, maybe you should try out a few for me. Just to see if it’ll jog your memory.”

You give him cheeky grin.

“More, Bradley.” You place kiss after kiss along his jaw. “Harder, Bradley.” That tricky hand of yours moves lower and lower until you have him in your palm. You grip him just right and work him with a pressure you know he likes, your movement eased by the wetness your mouth left behind. “Another one, Bradley,” you whisper, your teeth grazing his earlobe.

“Tell me what you want,” he groans as you rub yourself against him, the gusset of that wicked red lace number damp with your need. “Still gotta make those legs shake.”

“Want your cocks again, Roo.”

There’s a desperate edge to the desire he has for you now that he knows just how much you like taking both of him at once.

You make a noise of displeasure has he pulls himself from your body and gets off the bed. He leans down and hooks is arms under your thighs, then roughly pulls you down to the edge. Your legs lock around his waist as you try to rock against him, he sets a hand on your hipbone and presses down, stopping your movements.

“You want these cocks, huh?” He grinds himself against you, smirking at the way you whine. “Go ahead, show me how much you want them. If you want both, you’ve got earn ‘em.”

The muscles of his stomach tense as you reach over and pick up the copy of him, still shiny from your cunt. And a feral groan rips from him when your left hand grasps the base, stroking it the same way you had just stroked him.

You look up at him with your big, innocent eyes as you stick your tongue out and lave at the head of the opaque cock.

“Do you like the way you taste on my cock?” You give him a filthy grin as you let out a satisfied mm-hmm. “Dirty girl,” he murmurs, coarse and proud.

He reaches down and pulls the poor excuse for a thong back again from where it’s slipped back into place, exposing your pussy to his eyes. Wet and swollen and perfect and his.

They way you’re licking the cock in your hands is driving him wild.

“Stop teasing, I know how deep you can take me. C’mon, I wanna see it.”

Your eyes flutter at the demand, your lips stretching around the width of him. Your thumb strokes up and down along the life-like vein, and he swears he can almost feel the gentle touch of it on his own cock.

He thumbs at your clit, watching intensely as you savor your own taste and take him. He gives you just enough pressure to make your hips chase after the feeling for more.

“Now who’s the tease?” you whine petulantly, still seeking more of his touch. “I’ve earned it. Give me both.”

And as if to prove a point you take him in your mouth all the way to the hilt.

“Fuck, you’re so good to me. Yeah, I think you’ve earned it too,” he readily agrees, speeding up the circles he is making on you. “Would you like it if I prepared you like I prepared that cock?”

Your mouth drops open at the suggestion. It’s not something the two of you have done before, but you seemed to like it when he did it earlier.

“Yes, yes,” you breathe.

He applies more pressure to that sensitive part of you, “But you’re already so wet, honey, do you think you need it?” His grin is sharp as you squirm against him.

“Bradley, please.” It’s a whimpered plea.

With his thumb and forefinger, he opens you up further and releases a slow, steady drop of saliva onto your waiting cunt. You gasp as it connects with you, as you clench against nothing. He feels himself twitch at the sight.

You both moan when he thrusts into you. How he’s held off for so long, he has no clue. Your body is his sanctuary. Nothing else on this earth compares to the way you feel as you accept and welcome him into you.

“You just took me and you’re still so tight for me. Jesus,” he grunts as his hips snap against yours. “You’re so damn beautiful. Wish you could see how good you take my cocks.”

You preen under his filthy compliments and appreciative gaze. Making a show of taking his twin back in your greedy mouth, as your free hand works to pull out your breasts out of the lace cups for him.

For as much as he is giving you, you are giving it to him right back. You are the best thing that has ever happened to him.

His blood feels hot in his veins as he thrusts into you, deep and hard. You are warm and wet and perfect.

Any and all self-control has been long stripped away, and it’s all he can do to focus on your desperate keens and whimpers.

“I know, I know it’s good. You can be loud, let me hear how much you like it.” With his permission you pull off of him, the silicone still loosely gripped in your hand as your arm flops down to your side.

“You feel so good, Bradley. I wanted this, wanted you so bad.”

Bradley is so gone for you. You ruined him for anyone else the moment he met you. You make him feel whole and reckless and wild and safe. He was going to give you everything. You’re his.

“Who does this mouth and cunt belong to?”

“‘s yours.” You’re breathing hard now.

“Sure is,” he rasps, “and who do these cocks belong to?”

“Mine, they’re mine.”

“Damn right, honey. All yours. Fuck me, look at you. Treating your cocks so well. Fucking perfect mouth, fucking perfect cunt.”

He says you name and waits until you look at him through your watery lashes. And then his says it again, this time adding on his last name.

You flutter around him as your body erupts in goosebumps.

“Oh you liked that, huh?” The blistering primal satisfaction that fills his chest only ratchets up his need for you, “I do too. I really fucking like it.”

He repeats it over and over and over as he loses himself in you.

You were his. You were going to be his forever.

He is yours.

“Bradley!” you cry out after a powerful thrust, “Yes, yes, you’re mine.” He didn’t even know he was saying that aloud so high off your body, from watching you take both of his cocks like he was made just for you.

He gets a hand under your ass, keeping you moving against him. The sounds of sex fill the bedroom of the home he has built with you. He can feel the coiling sensation taking root in the base of his spine as your hand smooths up your body to clutch at your breast.

There’s no holding back the feral grin that overtakes his face when your legs start to tremble and quiver.

“That’s right, honey, only my cock can make your legs shake like this,” he says, rough and ruined. “Always gonna take care of you.”

Your back arches and bows off the bed when he works his thumb in rapid circles against your clit, getting you closer and closer to your release. The two of you are past words, past thoughts. Both chasing that all-encompassing blinding pleasure.

Your body pulled tight, tighter, tightest as he fucks into you until you are quaking and writhing and coming.

And with you over the edge, his own climax reaches a tipping point, and with a guttural groan, he lets go too.

He comes and comes and comes.

Bradley had peppered you with kisses and whispered all kinds of soft praise in to your ear as you had both floated back down surrounded in a rosy-hued aura.

You did so good, pretty girl. So, so good. You’re perfect.

You had whimpered when he pulled out of you, not wanting him to move an inch, not wanting him to do anything than run his gentle hands over you. You were always especially clingy afterwards.

And then he had coaxed you off the bed and out of that pretty red lace and into the shower with him. He lathered you with that expensive body wash as you leaned against him. He had dropped tender kisses along your shoulder as he dried you off with the fluffiest towel he could find.

The two of you still look entirely fucked out as you cuddled in bed eating the birthday cake you had made him.

A stroke of genius on your part.

The glass cake stand rests on his thigh as the two of you take forkfuls directly from the cake as some sitcom rerun plays in the background.

“This is so good, honey,” he moans around another bite. He loves the way your face lights up at the compliment.

“Yeah? You really like it?” you ask all sweet anticipation.

He leans in giving you a deep, sated kiss.

“Mm, definitely my favorite,” he murmurs. “Although, shouldn’t this say ‘best dicks ever’?”

He had been expecting to see maybe a simple Happy Birthday, instead he was endlessly amused to see Best Dick Ever piped across the top of the cake.

You bury your face into his neck and laugh. The sound makes him chuckle too.

“Well, I’ve still got extra frosting,” you say pulling away to grin up at him, “That’s something we can make happen.” You jokingly move to get out of bed.

He makes a dissatisfied grunt as he pulls you back to him, “Don’t you even think about get out of this bed.”

You look pleased as you nestle into him, tucking yourself even closer against him, “Don’t think my legs would work anyways, you fucked me too good.”

“Damn right, I did.” His tone is all smug pride as he leans down to kiss you.

“Happy birthday, Bradley,” you murmur against his mouth. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too. Thank you for everything, honey, this was the best day.”

According to the clock, his birthday has been over for one hour and forty-seven minutes, but you will always be the best gift he could have ever hoped for.

Happy Birthday, Rooster! Thank you for your slutty little waist and your slutty little strut and your slutty little shimmy. Here's to the man who launched 1000 fics and all the THOTS.

Many thanks to @gretagerwigsmuse and @laracrofted for letting me spam them with the chaos that was this story. You both are the real MVPs.

You can read more of my fics here!

#here have a bradley 🎁#thank you for reading and reblogging friend!#the babe with the birthday plans

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