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tteokdoroki · 1 year

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*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— permission and promiscuity + rensuke kunigami.

૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — your boyfriend could not be anymore of a sweetheart, but you're tired of him asking for permission, for being the nice guy…and for once you want to see his wild side.

⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up to 20s, smut, newly established relationship, doggy-style, squirting, breeding mention, size!kink, slight praise!kink, unprotected!sex, dom + pro player!kunigami, fem!reader - not beta read !

⭑ words — 1.2K.

⭑ notes — heyooo !! i'm back!! this is for the kunigami fans out there woo!! sorry this is so short aaa i have never written for him pls be kind i am just a girl who could nawt get this out of her head - m.list ✩

kunigami never does anything without your permission.

he whispers a question each and every time he leans in to kiss you, wetting his lips with the pink of his tongue and his golden eyes hooded each time. ‘can i kiss you, sweetheart?’ he’ll ask. ‘let me kiss you, yeah?’. a hand around your waist to show his possessiveness over you in front of his teammates is usually met with a soft look against his chiselled and god-like features. ‘is this okay?’ his face will say, his fingertips just a breath’s width away from curling around the outline of your hips.

kunigami always asks to hold your hand before he does it, thumbing over the mountains of each of your knuckles as he waits for you to fully grasp his larger hand with your own.

you could say he’s courteous, gentlemanly and it’s incredibly endearing.

never in your life have you had a man treat you with such respect and be so cautious of his every move around you— as if you’re an intricate and vintage vase at risk of shattering at any moment.

you tell him this after having your boyfriend walk you home— he stands before you outside the threshold of your apartment, nervous as he swallows thickly. “i’m not made of glass rensuke, i won’t break if you touch me.” leaning forward, you place a hand on his chest and nose up the sharpness of his jaw as if to taunt the poor man— push at him until his resolve breaks.

“but you said,” the football player breathes through his nose, falling into your trance. “but i don’t wanna hurt you. you said it’s been a while.”

he’s so cute, so considerate— kunigami’s cheeks flaming at your proximity and the sweet kisses you leave along his jawline. “it’s only been a while because my big, strong man won’t let me at him,” you drawl, dragging your hand down his chest. “i need you, ren. what are you so worried about?”

“big is an understatement,” rensuke tilts his head to capture your lips in a chaste kiss, a sign that your temptation is working. “i just don’t want to cause you any pain, make you uncomfortable…” he loses his words in your feverish kisses, your fingers fisting the collar of your boyfriend’s shirt and your tongue hungrily gliding across the seam of his mouth. you barely give the orange-haired pro player any time to think outside of you.

parting slowly, licking at the strings of saliva that connect you both, you grin— a dark and enticing flame flickering in your once innocent doe eyes. “i can take big, ren. i can handle you.”

“i-is this really a conversation we should be having on your doorstep, sweetheart?” kunigami stutters.

“we could be having it in my bedroom if you’d just come inside, my love.” you counter, mischievously.

that’s how you end up a soaked and sweaty mess, pinned underneath your boyfriend and gripping hard onto the sheets for dear life.

all of your teasing and taunting had pushed kunigami over the edge— bringing out that wild card in him. saliva swapping kisses turned to skilfully stripped clothes, the soccer player using one hand to unclip your bra with skilful ease halfway up the stairs to your bedroom. you’d just about managed to yank his shirt off before stumbling through the door to your room— caressing every ridge and muscle in rensuke’s sculpted form.

you were tossed to the bed before your brain could catch up, large hands rolling you onto your stomach and moulding you into the perfect position to be absolutely ravaged. ass up high, face down low and in the sheets.

he’s been working his cock into you for the last hour, your cunt so tight around him— clinging to every blue-forked vein that spirals around kunigami’s length as he languidly pushes it deeper into you. poor you, poor baby…you’ve only been able to take half of his chubbed up dick, clawing at the blankets every time your boyfriend even pushes an inch further into your welcoming wet walls.

“come on sweetheart,” the orange-haired striker rasps, tonguing up the nape of your neck from behind, licking across your saltine skin. “you’ve been so good. take a little more for me, that’s it…let me in.”

a whimper bubbles up on your glossed lips, it’s remainders smeared across your face from where you’ve been writhing against pillows and blankets for friction and you wiggle your hips back onto your boyfriend in frustration— wanting more. “ren,” you huff, looking back at him from over your shoulder with glassy eyes. “s’too much.”

he pauses, the rough pads of his thumbs circling over the stretch marks on your hips. “does it hurt?”

you shake your head ‘no’ and kunigami grins against your skin— the feeling of his lips spreading causing goosebumps to rise across your neck and shoulders before he plants wet kisses along them until he reaches your lips. “then we’ll keep going, until you’re stuffed full’a me ‘n my cock. okay sweetheart?”

“mm’fuck.. kay,” you respond with a sweet squeal. kunigami pulls his sweltering chest away from your sticky back, his hand pushing down on the small of it while his other finds your puffy clit between your dripping folds. a scream tears in the column of your throat as he simultaneously pumps his throbbing girth into you and draws his name across your sex in tight movements. the combination of those simple actions have your mind in a frenzy, clouding with visions of lust as your thighs tremble and struggle to keep you up.

juices roll down their insides in thick waves, gathering around rensuke in a frothy white mix the more he fucks into you— the wet pap, pap, pap of his balls against your cunt echoing throughout your bedroom. you glaze him in your arousal, smear it up his contracting abs and the fronts of his toned thighs. you make rensuke kunigami an absolute mess, you destroy him and he wonders while he held back for so long.

“sing your pretty song for me, sweetheart, lemme hear you.” your boyfriend praises over your tune of kitten mewls, breathless pants and soft hiccups. you can feel yourself getting closer and he’s not even fully sheathed inside you— your walls rippling around him with the telltale sign you’re about to cum. rensuke doesn’t relent, placing his foot on the bed as leverage to move his hips faster, harder— groaning deep between bared and gritted fangs while he watches your ass jiggle against his pelvis, shining with your slick. “you gonna cum, baby? can i make you cum? is that okay?”

you barely have it in you to say anything, give him a sign…not that it matters. for the soccer player is already playing with your pleasure nub once again, drawing electrifying shapes against it and rubbing your juices back into your sex while you clench around his sloppy cock. tempting him into your bedroom had to be one of the best decisions you’ve ever made, you think as you fall apart— eyes rolling far back into your skull while you clench and cream on him.

“atta girl, sweetheart,” kunigami coos as you come down from your earth-shattering high, a mess of weak bones and jelly legs in his arms. it’s only then that he’s able to push all the way past your entrance, throwing the entirety of his weight on top of you and crushing you into the sheets— already gearing up to sensually swing his hips into you again. “but this time, you’re gonna take it. all of it. i’m far from done with you.”

you throw it back onto him and cry out in response, your head laying back against his muscled shoulder as a thick hand wraps around your throat without squeezing— feeling it bob underneath kunigami’s touch.

“can’t breed you how you want if you won’t take me, sweetheart.”

#blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #bllk x reader #bllk smut #kunigami x reader #kunigami smut #kunigami x you #kunigami rensuke x reader #kunigami rensuke smut #kunigami rensuke x you #rensuke kunigami smut #bllk thirst #blue lock thirst #blue lock imagines #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki

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heckyeahponyscans · 2 months

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One of the benefits of vending at real-life toy shows is you get to chat with real-life people. I complimented a guy's shirt and found out there are marble racing leagues, I helped a guy track down some Shopkins because the ones belonging to his daughter (now a college grad) had accidentally been donated to Goodwill and she was nostalgic for them, and I learned that the vintage action figure of Allura is still one of the few toys she's had.

I also talked with a woman who asked if I had any Cabbage Patch Kids in my booth. (I did not.) She said, "I had one as a child and I always wonder . . ." She smiled, looking across the booths full of toys.

She got her Cabbage Patch doll in 1983, the year of "the craze". They were THE big toy. No modern toy that can compare to that phenomenon. Parents were getting into fistfights over these dolls, buying them from scalpers, or standing in long lines.

The woman at my booth said her aunt was the one who stood in a long line to get her a Cabbage Patch doll; she smiled as she described the doll, she obviously remembered it so well.

Then she said: "I used markers to give her makeup. I wanted to make her beautiful, but my father didn't see it that way. He saw it as me ruining the doll that it took so much effort to get. In anger, he threw it in the trash right in front of me."

She kept smiling wistfully as she was talking, without any apparent ire, even though after all these years she was at a toy show "wondering" about her doll.

As a collector, I love finding a mint condition toy. But when I was a child I cut holes in the vintage baby doll diapers (because I didn't like baby dolls but did like stuffed animals) and I gussied up Little Red Riding Hood's hair with streaks of eyeshadow that never washed out. I do not think it is possible for a child to "ruin" a toy. (Unless they make it physically unsafe to be around).

The purpose of a toy is to bring a child joy, fun, and help them grow. Sometimes that will mean dolls with cut hair, action figures dramatically buried in a grave after an imaginary battle, or, yes, Magic Marker makeup on dolls "to make them look beautiful." And if a child regrets what they did to a toy, that too helps them grow. Learning that a doll's hair, once cut, remains cut forever is such a mild and safe way to learn the importance of foresight.

For an adult looking back on childhood, it can seem idyllic. But one of the main experiences of childhood is a lack of control over your own life.

But a child should at least have control over their toys.

Adults: if you want to guarantee that precious toy you spent so much money on stays pristine . . . buy it for yourself and put it on your own shelf. It is not a child's job to be a caretaker to an object for twenty years.

I hope that lady finds her Cabbage Patch doll.

#toys #toy shows #CPK #Cabbage Patch Kids #dolls

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stevenose · 2 months

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thinking about baron literally switching up on you during sex 🫶🏻 reader with a vagina, no pronouns used for reader!

to be honest, the accent is a little grating. he’s saying things that make no sense, creating euphemisms that confuse you and take you out of the moment. you almost shove your fingers in his mouth to shut him up, but his sweet moans are too good to muffle.

baron. weird name. lamram is even weirder. in fact, ‘lamram’ sounds fake, some kind of made up name only a bimbo like baron would think of. but you have no reason not to believe him. he’s incredibly unassuming. sweetest thing alive, you think.

but you’re really starting to doubt the truth of his confession that he’s a virgin.

and it’s not really because he’s a good kisser. and he is, very much so. so humble and modest and yet he kisses you with such fervor that it’s staggering. claims your whole mouth with his, those big hands coming to cup your cheeks and keep you pressed against him like you might leave. you wouldn’t dream of leaving. certainly not after feeling his bulge, resting pretty on his lap, your tv blaring something useless behind you.

and it isn’t because he’s huge. jesus, is he huge. and your reaction, a wide eyed, open mouthed stare, makes him smirk. you didn’t think a sweetheart like him knew how to smirk. but he frowns when he catches you looking, furrowing his dark brows. “is - is it all right?”

“yeah,” you tell him quickly. “you’re just really big, baron.”

he shrugs a shoulder and smiles, bashful. “didn’ really know that.”

your hand wraps around his shaft, so hard and soft and hot. veiny. long. it nearly looks like it’s on the wrong body, but that isn’t very true, either. it fits his body, certainly - those big hands, strong biceps, hairy chest. it just doesn’t really fit his personality.

“no one’s ever told you before, huh? how big you are?”

baron shakes his head, that wide eyed wonder forcing his brows upwards again. “‘s it too big? can - can y’take it?”

and, no, it’s not that his fingers curl up and find your sweet spot immediately when you guide him to stretch you open. or that he knows where your clit is. you can chalk it up to beginner’s luck, or maybe he’s watched a lot of vintage porn. his expression shifts again while you mewl on his lap - smile widening, like he knows something you don’t.

“am i bein’ good for ya?”

you nod, grinding down onto his lean fingers. “mhm, yeah, baron, feel so good - add another, baby, please?”

“baby,” he says, sort of laughing, all giddy. “could get used t’that.”

what really makes you think he’s not a virgin is the way his hips rut up into you when you finally get him inside.

you have the lead at first. moving your hips up and down nice and slow. letting him savor it for his first time. playing with his long hair and trying to ignore his forced out little sayings. you’re moving so slow, and you swear baron’s clenching his jaw, his eyes turning hooded instead of wide, and then he suddenly plants his feet and starts fucking up into you.

you gasp, caught entirely off guard, and baron seems surprised himself. “that right?” he drawls. “‘s it ‘kay?”

you nod, and he continues, his hands - once hold you in a soft, feather light grip - suddenly tighten. squeezing the fat of your hips roughly. not enough to bruise but enough to make you realize he’s much more confident than he comes across.

and then - the nail in the coffin - he stops speaking with that terrible accent.

you think maybe it’s just getting warbled with his pleasure until he sounds - well. sounds like any other guy you know. voice deep and soft and sweet and yet so entirely sexy while he drills you with that long cock, hitting you deep, angling his hips to keep his tip rubbing against your sweet spot.

“feel so good,” he groans, no accent detected. “ah, fuck -“

“didn’t think you swore,” you pant, brows furrowed in pleasure and a lot of skepticism.

“i - uh.” and the accent’s back. “y’just feel better’n an ice cream cone on a -“

“quit it,” you moan, bouncing down on his cock. “you’re not a virgin, are you?”

he stares for what feels like eternity. and then he shapeshifts - relaxes, his face turning soft but eyes staying dark, gaze fixed instead of dazed. and he fucks you harder, lets his hands wander, lets his fingers tangle in your hair before pulling you in for another kiss. your stomach flips and you don’t feel scared, just shocked. confused. very horny.

“i’m not supposed to do this,” he says against your lips, smooth like butter, grunting from exertion. his free hand skirts down along your side before settling at your clit, rubbing circles into it. his dark eyes bore into yours and make your skin set alight. “but - but i- i’ll be honest, sweetheart, i needed this.”

“i - i guess that -“ you gasp, tilting your forehead to rest against his. “you- you’re not a virgin, then?”

the man scoffs. “do i fuck like one?”

#stevenose posts #ns/fw #baron x reader #lol. get a load of this guy. whoever he is #marmalade spoilers

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trippiexk · 9 months

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Film Yourself For Me

hobie brown x black reader :)

summary: hobie asks you to make a sextape and you can't find it in yourself to say no

warnings: *not proofread* kissing, p in v, oral (m! receiving), use of a camera, hobie calls reader a pornstar (😫), hobie makes reader squirt, use of pet names, cum swallowing <3, lmk if im missing something!!

(lyrics at the beginning are from Boyz In The Hood by Smerfbeats <3)

"pay her a fee, she perform for me

say she a good girl, she do porn for me"

"Babe?"

The feeling of strong arms circling your waist unlocked your focus from the dishes in front of you. Your shirt, now totally soaked, stuck to the bottom half of your stomach uncomfortably. Hobie didn't seem to mind too much as he sat his chin on your shoulder, moving your braids to place a kiss on your neck.

You continued washing dishes, listening to his breath against his ear. Often times Hobie would embrace you simply because he realized he hasn't touched you in fifteen minutes, you figured now was one of those times.

After a few minutes though, the taller boy seemed to remember what he had bothered you for, and kissed your neck again, making sure you didn't forget about his presence.

"Babe?" He asked again, watching you rinse off the last dish and dry your hands, you turned around, trapped between his body and the sink as you looked up at him. "Yes?" You asked, standing on your tip toes to place a kiss to his chin.

"I was thinkin'...what if we made a sex tape?"

You cocked an eyebrow, smile playing on your lips as you continued to dry your hands. "I mean...why?" It didn't take you as much of a surprise- he had been talking about it for a few days, juggling the idea in his mind before eventually attempting to bring it to life.

You moved away from him, letting him follow you to the refrigerator as you pulled out a bottle of water. "I mean, just think about it. Somethin' we can always look back on."

"I think I'll remember having sex." You replied sarcastically, taking a sip from your bottle.

Hobie sighed, pulling you closer by your waist. His eyes were big, pleading, and you managed to roll yours in slight annoyance. His wicks, normally wild on his head, were pulled back today; reaching up, you straightened his hair, pecking his lips on the way down, "If it'll make you happy."

And that's how you ended up where you were now: a sweaty Hobie between your legs, a vintage camcorder dangling between his fingers and a lewd expression on your face as his cock dragged against your pussy. Hobie was in love with the thought of catching this moment on camera, so much so that his eyes was permanently glued to it to make sure everything was perfect.

His other hand was under your leg, using it as leverage as he alternated between pointing the camera at your cunt and your body, making sure to slip in peeks of your pretty little face. He was obsessed with watching him disappear inside of you, a low groan coming from his mouth as he watched how hypnotizing it was.

"Spread that pussy f'me, babe. Fuck, you're a proper star." Your hand snaked down your body, middle finger gathering your arousal before rubbing it over your clit, making your hips jerk into the movement. Hobie smiled, pulling away the camera to watch with both eyes. "Yeah, proper star." He repeated as if he was reassuring the camera and you smiled knowing just what kind of star he was talking about.

Biting your lip, you added friction to your clit, legs shaking slightly as your eyes threatened to close. You knew Hobie was just going to make you open them, so you fought the urge, focusing on the orgasm that was approaching rapidly. Above you, Hobie was still grinning from ear to ear, watching you come undone right in front of him. "Touch those tits for me, baby." He encouraged, watching you reach your other hand up to roll a nipple between your fingers.

"Fuck, Hobie." You whined, still fighting the urge to close your eyes from the many sensations. "Feels good doesn't it? You're creamin' all over me." At that he pointed the camera down, letting it focus on the milky white ring forming on the base of his cock. Your essence coated his entire length, making him slip in and out of you with ease; it was purely pornographic.

Suddenly, he was pulling out, eliciting a line of protests from you. "Wh-what the fuck?"

"Up, up." Hobie slapped your thigh twice, forcing you to follow his direction. Guiding you to your knees, he let you look up to him with confused and horny eyes. "Lick me clean." He commanded, bright lens pointed to your shocked face.

You blinked up at him in confusion for a minute before you figured he was dead serious and not joking around.

"You're fucking impossible," You pouted, grabbing the base of his cock and stroking it. Hobie fucked into your hand, grin faltering slightly as he watched you spread the tip of his cock over your lips. Licking them, you smiled, and then looked directly into the camera, "but I guess I do taste pretty good."

You licked a long strip on the underside of his cock, the bitter taste of arousal coating your tongue as you took him in your mouth, swirling your mouth over the tip and earning a low "Fuck." from your boyfriend above you. Popping him out of your mouth, you repeated the same motion all around, cleaning him off just like he asked you.

"Touch yourself for the camera, love." And you obliged, stuffing two fingers in your cunt as your head bobbed, a moan falling from your lips and sending shivers down Hobie's spine. He tilted the camera down slightly, showing how your fingers disappeared inside of you. Now smiling again, Hobie's hand reached down to encompass the back of your head, pushing your head down to meet his thrusts as he neared his climax, "That's right, suck dick like a big girl." He encouraged, small moans falling from his own lips. Your fingers were soaked and your knees were starting to hurt from kneeling on the cold, hard wooden floors. Sensing this, Hobie moved his hand to your jaw, holding your face up with a singular hand as he sped up the rate of his thrusts. This time you let your eyes close, squeezing them shut as came down your throat, finally being able to take a breath after you swallowed.

"Fuckin' beauty." Hobie breathed out, pulling you up by your neck to give you a sloppy kiss. You smiled into the kiss, climbing into his lap. For a second he sat the camera down, using both hands to hold the sides of your face as you made out, your hands finding themselves in his hair. "C'mere, doll." He sat back against the headboard, pulling you with him and hovering your dripping pussy over his cock. The camera found purchase in his hands again, and with his other hand, he gently sat you onto his dick, groaning once your cunt completely enveloped him.

You were breathing heavy, eyes watering as you placed your hands on his chest, rolling your hips as your mouth fell open. "Good girl, so sexy, look at me." Hobie smiled, watching you through hooded eyes as you stained his pelvis. The noises in the room were purely pornographic, very fitting for the tape and you knew then and there that the camera would have to be buried with you. You followed Hobie's directions, looking into the big brown eyes of your boyfriend as he stared at you.

"You're so pretty." You mumbled, brain rotting as you hips continued to meet his. Hobie smiled at this, eyes darting to the camera before looking at you again. "Me?"

You nodded, leaning away from him, letting the dark lens capture your every movement. You let a hand rest on his lower stomach, still keeping you steady as the other moved to tweak your nipple. One of Hobie's hand still rested on your hip, but now it squeezed you once he felt your pussy tighten around him from your actions. "So fuckin' pretty." You said, almost reassuring him. To be honest you were babbling at this point, but it was the truth. Hobie really was pretty.

And you wish you could make out the words to explain how much you loved his plump lips and his strong hands, and his soft smile, and his other attributes that made you fall completely in love with him but the only thing running through your mind was the orgasm creeping within your core. Maybe you'll tell him afterwards.

"That's all you baby. Look at you. Fuckin' perfect." And Hobie wish he'd could tell you everything he loved about you. He couldn't make a list long enough to detail everything, and he wished he could tell you now, but the only thing running through his mind was the way your walls dragged against the veins of his cock and how he so badly wanted cum.

Then, Hobie was pushing the camera into your hands, letting his other hand squeeze your hips and he fucked into you aggressively, making your mouth fall open. "Film yourself for me, love." He commanded and you could only nod. The pace you had set was fine, just fine, but it wasn't enough and Hobie was chasing something specific. One thumb came up to rub your clit and you fumbled with the camera, struggling to keep it steady as it focused on your naked body.

"Wanna make a mess?" Hobie asked, and you knew what he meant, making you nod frantically. " 'Wanna soak the sheets." You moaned, arching into his body as he continued to rub sloppy circles over your clit. You shuddered, biting your lip to prevent yourself from being too loud. Hobie noticed, looking up at you and frowning.

"Let me hear you, baby."

"N- shit- the neighbors." You struggled to get out, angling the camera down to show where your bodies were connecting. "Fuck them." Hobie strained, throwing his head back, he was close, so fucking close.

Then you were on your back, the camera nearly forgotten about and Hobie's cock placing light kisses to your cervix. He was too far gone, you could tell by the glassy look in his eyes and the way he bent your legs back, exposing your cunt to him.

"C'mon, give it to me." He said gruffly, talking to no-one in particular and entire lower half glistening in the dimly lit room. You mumbled something incoherent, something you didn't even understand yourself which made Hobie frown above you. "Use your words, baby."

"Gonna cum." You whined, remembering the camera at the last second and angling it so it could watch Hobie abuse your messy pussy.

"I know, give it to me."

And you did. You came with a strangled moan, the tension breaking in your stomach as your release dripped onto the sheets, soaking the bed and Hobie's cock as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm, chasing his own. Hobie watched with wide eyes, hips stuttering from your abrupt actions. Then he was smiling, and his grip was tightening on your legs and he looked really fucking good.

"S-shit. Good fuckin' girl," Hobie said through a breath, dick twitching against your walls, your chest was heaving, body sticky and shaking as you tried to recover from your climax, "too bad i can't fuck a baby into this pussy. I- damn girl- gonna cum. You ready?" And you found yourself nodding before he pulled out, pumping his cock. You sat up quickly, letting the camera watch as he came into your mouth, lust filled eyes staring up at him in admiration as his seed coated your tongue.

As your orgasms subsided, Hobie pulled you into him, his sweaty body melding into yours as he kissed your lips. "My pretty little pornstar." He praised, and the camera cut off with a beep.

hehe🤭❤️

#hobie brown atsv #hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #hobie smut #astv hobie #hobie x reader #hobie x y/n #hobie x you #hobie spiderverse

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gyllenhaalstories · 3 months

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FORTUNE COOKIE — DETECTIVE LOKI 🥠

summary: you're in luck! the restaurant did not run out of fortune cookies this time.

warnings:food & eating, smut (hickeys, mirror sex, nipple play, thighjob, mention of edging). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 1785

gif credits: @/elliewilliums (cropped) / divider credits: @/saradika-graphics

notes: happy valentine's day! i'm sending you all so much love. 💝 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

You parked your car next to Loki's, although the parking lot was empty at this hour. This sounded like a cute metaphor about how you could have all the space in the world, yet you'd rather stay close to your man. Anyway. You parked your car and struggled with just about everything beyond that point. Your hands were too full to close and lock the door easily and to zip your coat and put its hood over your head. Once you figured it out, you waddled your way to the restaurant. You struggled with the push and pull mechanism, nothing special there, and you especially struggled to look normal while you bee-lined to his usual table.

You were lucky, his back faced the door so he did not catch even the smallest visual glimpse of your shenanigans. Although he could not see you, his face beamed with a smile at the squeaky sound of your shoes and at your clumsy apologies to the waitress for coming in so close to closing hours.

"Surprise." You laughed at how you ruined your own plans. You handed him the precious package you were holding close to your body this whole time.

"What are you doing here?" Loki's eyes glanced up at you, then down at the box you were handing him. Pink wrapping paper, pink ribbon, pink bow, pink everything.

"I just told you, I wanted to surprise you." He emptied your hand so you could pull your phone out of your pocket. "Look, it's after midnight."

He blinked, with an arched brow.

"That means it's Valentine's Day." You smiled from ear to ear.

"I thought we had plans for dinner not... for now."

"Surprise!" You repeated and hopped closer to him, leaning in for a quick kiss. "I know we said no gift. I also know that if I tried to hide the gift, you'd find it. So this is the best plan I came up with!"

He set the box down on the table and attempted to search through the pocket of his black coat, but he stopped to listen to you.

You told him you knew he'd be there to eat before coming back home, so you would not lovingly scold him about not prioritizing his needs. You told him it was no bother, to drive in the middle of the night to meet with him. You told him you planned this all out with love. You also told him how proud you were for surprising him for once, well, kind of.

"I'm proud of you." You smiled when you sat down in front of him. You caught him just in time, too, he had finished his food. He politely asked the waitress for a refill of coffee. He searched his coat again and pulled a gift out of it.

The box was not wrapped up all cutesy like yours, but you could not care less.

"I know we said no presents." The waitress reappeared and placed two fortune cookies between Loki and you. She walked back to the kitchen with the empty coffee pot.

After Loki sipped his coffee, you both agreed to open your presents at the same time.

Loki carefully pulled on the ribbon and peeled the heart patterned paper off the box. He gasped when he opened it and discovered a ring. It resembled the Masonic ring he wore, but it was different. Loki's ring was plain, it suited him. But the one you got for him showed intricate details and complex craftsmanship.

"I don't need to understand it to know it's important for you." You watched his reactions closely while he studied the ring. You explained how you saw an advertisement in the newspaper about people selling vintage knickknacks. It was not too far out of town, it was set up like a yard sale. You found the ring in an old jewellery box, had it cleaned up, and saved it for this special occasion.

"I love it." He closed the box and smiled widely. "Thank you." You could feel how much this gift mattered to him and you were happy with yourself. "It's your turn."

So, you opened your present too. You frowned, confused, when you pulled out a chain that looked exactly like his.

"You like mine so much, figured you wanted your own..." You spoke at the same time. "So we can match."

You insisted on putting it on right away, but Loki decided you should wait until you both got home. The waitress came back to clean your tables and, before you left, you opened your fortune cookies.

Loki was a little superstitious about his cookies, he liked to give them time to work their magic so you did not share what the strip or paper said right away. He paid and tipped the waitress generously and headed outside.

You waved goodbye at the waitress and wished her "Happy Valentine's day!"

*~*~*

Loki hung the towel to dry on the rack, his messy half dry hair looked so different from his usual slicked back look. He looked relaxed, at peace. He came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist while the steam from the shower slowly dissipated.

You handed him the small necklace and he groaned in response, not wanting to leave the embrace just yet. You had waited too long with the ride home in your respective cars and the long steamy shower. You wanted your present.

He obliged, though, and carefully put the chain around your neck. He watched your reflection in the mirror with a corner smile. "You look so beautiful, my love."

You looked at yourself through the mirror too and brought your hand to touch the cold metal of the chain. It was exactly like Loki's, you'd always have a piece of him with you that way.

Loki kissed your cheek and along the side of your neck, where he focused until your brain got too fuzzy to thank him again for the Valentine's day present. He lingered on one spot, sucking a light mark on it that he soothed with gentle licks. His hands caressed your exposed chest.

"I'm guessing you love it as much as I do?" You looked at the mirror again and caught a glimpse of your man smirking against your skin and marking you up some more while his hands were groping your tits.

He grunted, now teasing your nipples until they got hard. He loved to feel you squirm against his naked body, your ass grinding on his hardening cock.

You gasped when he pinched and pulled gently on your nipples.

He had no intention of hurting you, he simply wanted to tease you. His day was long, rough, as it always seemed to be but your surprise at the restaurant put him in a much better mood. Despite wanting to enjoy your body and to explore every inch of it by peppering kisses, his body forced him to pick up the pace.

"Please..." You whispered, begging him to keep touching you.

And he did, without needing you to explain any further. His hands abandoned your breasts and travelled down.

You lost sight of them in the mirror, but your entire body felt like it melted when his fingers touched your pussy.

"So fucking wet for me." He praised you in your ear, before he switched sides and started to mark the rest of your neck with hickeys. He dipped two fingers between your folds.

Instinctively, your legs opened up for him. You gave him enough space for his hand, but also for his cock.

He pushed his cock between your legs and moaned of pleasure when your pussy lips coated him with wetness. Loki helped you close your legs just a bit, so that he could fuck your thighs.

It was not as satisfying as having him buried inside of your pussy or feeling his fingers rub your tingly clit, but this felt so good still.

It felt especially good when Loki grabbed your hips to hold you in place. He fucked himself with your thighs, grunting louder and louder with each thrust. "Fuck," he mumbled, face still in your neck. "Been thinking of your pussy all day."

You reached a hand behind you and put it on the back of his head, holding him close. "Need you inside me, baby."

"Say that again." He demanded, his eyes rolled to the back of his head when you whined loudly as the tip of his cock hit your clit.

You took a deep breath, trying to speak coherently although this seemed next to impossible when Loki was fucking you. "I need your cock so bad. I need you inside me. Please. Please!"

"Good girl." Loki stopped moving, his cock lodged between your thighs and under your wet pussy.

"Why?" You complained, tears began to pool at the corner of your eyes. You needed him to keep going so bad.

His fingers started to rub your clit instead, but it was way too slow for your liking. "Wanna know what my fortune cookie said?"

You put your hand over his, trying to make him speed up and take you closer to your orgasm, but you failed.

His strong hand just kept rubbing small, lazy circles on your sensitive clit. "Answer me. Do you want to know?"

You rolled your eyes and surrendered. "What did it say?"

He wore a proud smile on his face. When you noticed it, you chuckled. "It said to Plan for many pleasures ahead." You rolled your eyes and he insisted. "No, no, no. I'm serious! You don't believe me? You wanna see it?" He gave your pussy a gentle slap to make you quit your attitude.

It succeeded in making your brain short circuit for a second.

"I can prove it to you that this was written on the paper. It's in my coat, I'm gonna go and get it." Loki pulled away from you, his hands, and his cock, leaving your body.

You whined so loud that he laughed.

He was surprised at your reaction, but he was more so aroused at how much you wanted to feel him.

"What is it? You don't want me to go?"

"Absolutely not." You turned around, finally looking at him directly in the eye. "But we're still gonna go somewhere." You erased the distance between your bodies again only to push him out of the bathroom and in direction of the bedroom.

He walked backwards, letting you guide him with a proud smirk.

"I'd rather make the fortune cookie's wish come true."

Loki turned you around and, when you finally got near the bed, he pushed you down on it. "That's my good fucking girl."

#detective loki #detective loki smut #detective loki imagine #detective loki x reader #jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal smut #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal fanfic

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roosterforme · 7 months

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Here's a fluffy blurb for the nonny with the new Bronco neighbor. May you enjoy every happiness in life.

Ouchie

Bradley looked at his wife laying next to him in bed. Her hand was resting on his chest, and her lip was a little bit puffy from being overworked by his mustache, but she was smiling softly, eyes closed and lashes brushing her cheeks.

"I'm still shocked that you agreed to go out with me, let alone marry me," he muttered, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "I must have looked like an idiot that first day we met."

Your soft laughter left him grinning as you ran your fingers through his chest hair. "No, you didn't look like an idiot. You were sweet."

Another uhaul truck. The cute little rental house across the street from yours seemed to have a new tenant every other month. As soon as you took a freshly baked treat over to meet your new neighbor, it felt like they were moving out again. Maybe this one would stay longer?

"Sweet Lord," you muttered when you set eyes on him. He was tinkering around under the hood of his vintage Ford Bronco on the driveway next to the uhaul, and he looked up to smile at you as you parked in your own driveway. You wouldn't mind if this one stuck around longer.

When you climbed out of your car, his soft eyes were still looking your way, and you saw that he had a mustache too. Well, you didn't have any fresh out of the oven chocolate chip cookies for him, but you definitely wanted to get a closer look.

"Hi," he called out with a smile that just made him look even more handsome, and he waved the wrench in his right hand in greeting.

"Hi," you replied, walking toward the street, and he looked so happy that you were coming his way. You felt giddy inside, and somehow your feet got tangled up at the curb.

"Oh, no," you gasped, falling as if in slow motion. Your palms hit the pavement first followed by your knees. And yeah, the scrapes hurt, but the sting of mortification washed over you just as fast. You wanted to disappear and reappear in your bed which you were never going to leave again after this. Because your hot new neighbor was rushing over to get to you as you scrambled to your feet.

"Are you okay?" he asked, skidding to a halt in the middle of the street. Why was he stopping in the middle of the street? You looked down at your hands as the small cuts started to bleed, and you just held your palms up for him to see like some sort of weirdo.

"I'm fine," you replied sheepishly. But he winced and started your way again as a car pulled down the street.

He slipped his wrench into the pocket of his jeans and reached for your hands. His thumb stroked gently along your wrist, and then he glanced up at you. "Ouchie."

And you couldn't help but smile at his sweet expression of concern. "Yeah. Ouchie."

Then he blushed, probably realizing what he had said, but he didn't stop stroking your wrist. "If it makes you feel any better, I actually hit myself in the face with my wrench earlier while trying to change my oil."

You laughed at that. "You know... that does somehow make me feel a little bit better."

"I'm Bradley," he said, giving your wrist a little squeeze.

You told him your name and then asked, "Do you like chocolate chip cookies?"

"I like all cookies," he replied easily.

"Perfect," you said softly. "I always make some for my new neighbors. Maybe after I get my hands cleaned up, I'll bake them for you."

Bradley nodded once, gently lacing his fingers with yours, but still careful not to bump your palm at all. "Want me to give you a hand?"

"No," Bradley disagreed. "I looked like an idiot. The first thing I said to you was 'Ouchie'. Who even says that?"

You laughed and rolled on top of him. "That wasn't the first thing you said. It was like the second or third. And you were so sweet, and I was already mesmerized by your mustache, so it didn't really even matter."

"And then I almost burned down your kitchen."

You pressed your lips together to try to stifle your laughter. "Okay, yes. That's true."

"And you still agreed to go out to dinner with me," he said, kissing the tip of your nose.

"I sure did. There's just something about you." You slid up a little further and kissed his lips as you whispered, "Ouchie."

#if you ask emily #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #top gun maverick imagine

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hometoursandotherstuff · 6 months

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I thought that this 1885 Victorian in Helena, Montana was so pretty with it's colorful paint designs and rounded porches, and it is lovely inside, but it has one peculiar feature. 3bds, 3ba, $500K.

The front door opens to reveal a beautifully delicate railing and an original fireplace. The floor has been replaced and they added a lovely inlaid circle. There's also a wonderful original light fixture.

That divider piece is so pretty.

This entrance hall is amazing. Look at the windows, railing, and fireplace.

In the sitting room is a gorgeous fireplace- look at the tiles! And, even the fire screen is beautiful.

In the dining room is a lovely built-in china cabinet and it looks like the former owners left that sideboard.

And, then we enter the next room. What the hell is this? Beautiful fireplace, a built-in cabinet, original doors with transoms, and this monstrosity of a shower with a toilet standing there. Note the 2 industrial lights above the shower. I think that if they needed a shower it could've been done nicer. This is a big room, they could've enclosed it.

They have a closeup of the beautiful fireplace, but that shower and toilet ruin it.

I'm not keen on the modernized powder room, but I prefer it to the one in the other room.

I kind of like the vintage kitchen.

But, this. The size of this Aga stove. It's worth about $32,000. Also love the exhaust hood. I would buy this house for the stove and tear that stupid bathroom out & redo it.

There's lots of storage. The backsplash would have to go, it's much too modern.

The primary bedroom is large and has a door to the wonderful 2nd fl. porch out front.

This pretty bedroom is a good size and has a sweet stained glass transom. Love the lilac trim and crown molding.

Not lovin' this tub, but the room is kind of cute.

There's lots of potential in the attic and the current owners started to finish it, so the insulation and new windows are in and the other supplies are here.

There's no garage, but there's a large parking area.

Nice big yard. The lot is .29 acre.

Beautiful mountain scenery across the way.

They included this helpful diagram- since an Aga stove has no knobs and is always on, you simply select the oven you need. Like, if you want to roast something, you would choose the upper right oven, and if you want to keep the dish warm after cooking, you just transfer it to the oven on the lower left. Same thing with the burners on top. I think that the newer models come with rings so, if you wanted a lower heat you would use 2 or 3 rings to raise the pot or pan.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/1701-Cannon-St-Helena-MT-59601/78160724_zpid/

#victorian house #victorian architecture #old house dreams #houses #house tours #home tour

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mijoons · 8 months

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thesewordsareallihavetogive · 1 year

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5 times the Bronco was a third wheel - bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader

Summary: 3.6k words. Rooster & his partner's love in snapshots throughout the course of their relationship. or, five times the Bronco was a third wheel <3

Warnings: sososo much fluff. some cursing, suggestive material, overuse of italics, & frequent usage of she/her pronouns for the reader

a/n: hi y'all! life has been v busy but i'm excited to share another fic with u guys! i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it <3

master list

After multiple failed & disappointing first dates, y/n was prepared to write off dating and romance altogether. She could be happy and fulfilled with some pets, good friends, and a good vibrator.

Then Bradley Bradshaw came along.

y/n was convinced chivalry was dead. So when the aviator offered to pick her up for their first date, she was skeptical. She did an internet deep dive and all she found were high praise for his flying ability and Navy accolades. Bradley only had one social media account and he followed less than 50 pages–most of which were plane and vintage car accounts. He almost exclusively posted photos of his travels during deployments.

So, she accepted his offer. She told him her address and pushed the Dateline and Criminal Minds theme songs to the back of her mind.

Bradley showed up on time and he actually walked up to her door. There was no dry “I’m here” text or the muffled honking of a car horn.

Not only did he ring y/n’s doorbell and meet her at her front door, but he also brought her flowers. Bradley brought her flowers!

His mama raised him right.

Bradley sucked in a breath when y/n opened the door. She was beautiful, and he told her so. The words left his lips before his brain caught up. It sounded cliché, but he was pretty sure he fell in love at the sound of y/n’s kind giggle and the way she bashfully scrunched up her nose.

As the aviator led y/n toward his car, she admired the sight of the vintage Bronco. A shiny wax coat accentuated the bright blue paint. It seemed as though there wasn’t a speck of dirt on the car. Somehow, the decades-old vehicle looked like it had just rolled off the assembly line.

Bradley smirked when he turned back and found y/n shamelessly staring in awe at the Bronco. Keeping up with the old car’s maintenance was a labor of love; it made his heart flutter to see someone appreciate it the way he did.

y/n snapped out of her trance when she saw Bradley patiently waiting by the opened passenger door. Swoon.

With a blushed smile she approached the door, standing intoxicatingly close to the aviator. Even in her heels, he was still a full head taller than her. Being mindful of said heels, Bradley held out his hand for y/n to hold while she slid up into the slightly lifted car.

She buckled her seat belt as he shut the door and jogged around the front of the hood.

She smiled inwardly. This could be good.

After six months of dating, y/n had officially earned the title ‘passenger princess’. y/n and Bradley spent a good majority of their time in either of their homes, but when they went out together Bradley drove.

If they went out to a bar, Bradley always made sure to limit himself to one beer or sober up before they left. y/n was especially fond of fruity little drinks with a high enough alcohol content to knock a grown man out cold, so she wasn’t exactly a good candidate to drive either of them home after a night out. The buzz tended to make her more touchy-feely, which Bradley didn’t mind at all.

If they went to the beach, they’d typically take y/n’s car. Bradley shuddered at the thought of sand in the Bronco and sunscreen on the seats. Yet, he still drove when they took her car. y/n would’ve protested if it were anyone else attempting to drive her car but with Bradley it was different. Everything was different.

She’d never felt the kind of love and safety she did with Bradley. And it was easy! Their relationship was playful and fun and happy. Which was part of why y/n found teasing him to be particularly amusing.

The couple was driving along the beach with no specific destination in mind. A soft breeze flowed through the open windows and a playlist y/n made for Bradley played over the stereo. y/n alternated between watching the pink and orange hues adorning the sky–nothing quite compared to west coast sunsets–and admiring the handsome man seated to her left.

Rooster’s eyes flickered away from the road for a moment to look at this girlfriend. He caught her already ogling him and broke out in a toothy grin, ghosting his fingers along the inside of her thigh where his hand already rested on her leg.

The mostly-innocent devil on y/n’s shoulder told her it was time to bug her boyfriend. She carefully toed her sandals off before kicking her feet up on the dash. A smirk graced her face as she trained her eyes on Bradley, awaiting his reaction. His eyes flashed toward her feet with alarm and his shoulders sagged in relief when he realized the dirty soles of her shoes weren’t marking up the dash. Bradley rolled his eyes and grumbled before he effortlessly pulled both of her legs off the dash and into his lap with one hand. y/n threw her head back and laughed. The corner of Bradley’s lip twitched upward at his favorite sound.

At the next red light, Rooster pressed a kiss to y/n’s ankle before continuing to massage her calves.

y/n groaned in the lobby of the auto shop. The mechanic gave her a timeline of roughly two weeks for her car to be fixed. Her insurance wouldn’t cover a rental either, so she’d have to get rides from her coworkers. She was sure Bradley would gladly drive half an hour each way to drop her off and pick her up from work, but she didn’t want to burden him with that.

Rooster came with her because she suspected the mechanics wouldn’t take her seriously by herself. Men. She sulked while stomping out into the parking lot. She knew better than to touch the passenger door handle herself, so she waited for Bradley.

y/n huffed as she stared out the window. Bradley knew it was better to let y/n ride out her frustration, so he silently rubbed his thumb over y/n’s knuckles, brushing against her engagement ring. After her second huff, Bradley ventured into the lion’s den.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Rooster asked with a kiss to the back of her hand. She ran her free hand through her hair and pinched her brows together. Maybe she was overthinking and stressing out too much, but the feelings felt very real nonetheless.

“I guess I’ll just ask one of my coworkers for a ride to work for the next couple of weeks. I don’t think she lives too far from us…” y/n trailed off. It was Bradley’s turn to pull a confused face. Why would she do that when they had another perfectly fine car? When Bradley proposed to y/n he promised her his heart for the rest of their lives and that what was his was hers–though both of those things had been determined long before he bought y/n’s dream ring.

“Baby, you can just take the Bronco. I’ll drive us to the base in the morning and then you can take the car from there. Or I can have Mav pick me up on his way to the base and you can get more of your beauty rest,” Rooster finished with a cheeky grin. Though y/n had her personal favorite origin story for her fiancé’s call sign, the actual reason rang true. Rooster was up before dawn nearly every day, regardless of whether he’d set an alarm or not. y/n, on the other hand, rather appreciated sleeping in and ignoring the morning daylight for as long as possible.

Bradley once tried to wake y/n up before 6 a.m. to join him on a morning run. In her sleepy haze, she threatened to break up with him. She was joking mostly but the edge in her tone had Bradley leaving her to rest without any further argument.

“...are you sure Brad? You would let me drive the Bronco?” y/n asked hesitantly. The only other person she knew of that had driven the vintage car was Bradley’s late father, Goose. To Bradley, sharing the car was a no-brainer. Would he let anyone else have their hands on his precious wheel? Hell no. But y/n? He’d give her the moon if she asked for it.

“What’s mine is yours, honey. I don’t trust anyone more than you,” Bradley smiled as he spoke. The words flowed off his tongue so easily. y/n did her best not to tear up at the sentiment, but it was a fruitless effort. It was her turn to kiss his hand this time, muttering a soft I love you against his tanned skin.

Which is how y/n found herself parking the Bronco in the car lot closest to the dagger squad’s hanger. The aviators had just finished their afternoon workouts. It was the safest means to gradually decrease the natural adrenaline rush from flying, but also had added benefits, if you asked y/n–the bonus being her fiancé’s physique. She took a brief break from ogling her boyfriend to be mindful of the distance between her feet and the ground as she hopped out of the car.

Hangman looked up from the weights he’d been lifting and clocked the new addition to the parking lot. The bright blue vehicle was hard to miss among the red, white, and dark blue trucks filling the lot.

“Rooster, that looks like your car,” Jake observed. Thank you, Sherlock.

“That is my car,” Bradley replied after glancing toward the parking lot. Hangman was a lot of things, cunning even, but the blonde man’s density didn’t surprise Rooster. A small smile graced his face when he saw y/n’s feet land on the asphalt, the rest of her body concealed from view. Phoenix typically ignored Hangman’s antics. It was a waste of time and energy, and ensured she wouldn’t lose brain cells simply by exposure to the cocky aviator. However, this discussion piqued her interest.

“Then who the hell is driving? Has anyone other than you touched that wheel in the past 15 years?” Natasha blew a stray piece of hair out of her face and stood back with her hands on her hips. Eventually, she too noticed the approaching footsteps nearly hidden by the car and she smirked. Of course it was y/n.

“Not until today,” Bradley smiled. y/n turned the corner, coming into view, and Hangman tutted in understanding. Rooster paused his workout to take in his fiancée. She wore a breezy sundress that complimented her complexion and the wind blew gently at her, letting her hair flow back to reveal her sun-kissed cheeks. She was a sight for sore eyes.

“Well I’ll be damned, Bradshaw. You must really love her,” Jake clapped Rooster on the back, earning an eye roll.

“We’re engaged, Bagman. I obviously love her,” Bradley replied, his eyes still trained on y/n. Fanboy piped up. He quite enjoyed the verbal tennis match.

“Yeah, but that’s like next-level love,” Mickey argued. The rest of the squad nodded in agreement. Rooster shook his head with a smile and abandoned his weights, lightly jogging to meet y/n halfway. Bradley wrapped his arms around y/n, pulling her into a tight hug. Her nose wrinkled at the smell of jet fuel and sweat, but she wasn’t bothered; she was used to it by now. y/n dangled the key ring from her finger in front of Bradley’s face with a teasing smile. He grinned and slipped the keys into his back pocket with a peck to y/n’s lips.

The wedding ceremony and reception were breathtakingly beautiful. Bradley and y/n decided to have a private ceremony with just their closest friends and family and a larger reception party. They danced the night away quite literally. The newlyweds probably stayed on the dance floor for almost two hours, only taking breaks to take some private wedding photos and for Rooster to play the piano. The wedding venue was the couple’s favorite of the ones they had toured, the on-site piano was an added bonus

When the night came to an end and it was time for the send-off, Bradley and y/n couldn’t wipe the wide grins off their faces even if they tried. Whooping and hollering from their loved ones sounded out as party-poppers and sparklers surrounded the pathway toward the awaiting Bronco.

y/n was the first to notice the tin cans on strings affixed to the back of the car. With a loud laugh, she turned back to the crowd to find the culprits. Her eyes zeroed in on Bob and her sibling with a chuckle. The aviator wore a blush and avoided eye contact with y/n though he was acutely aware her eyes were trained on him and the string he was shoving into his pocket. Her sibling, who was standing right alongside Bob, attempted to discreetly kick a spare tin can on the ground behind them out of view. Rooster gave the two of them an appreciative wink.

Bradley picked y/n up bridal style, earning a surprised yelp from his wife, before he gently sat her down in the Bronco’s passenger seat, careful not to snag her wedding gown on anything. He pressed a searing kiss to her lips and jogged around to the driver’s side.

As they pulled away the distinctive clanking of the tin cans bouncing on the pavement earned louder cheers from the wedding guests. Despite his strong urge to get both of them home and into bed as quickly as possible, Bradley was careful not to drive too fast so that the cans wouldn’t fly up and chip the Bronco’s paint.

In the driveway of the couple’s shared home, Bradley opened his wife’s door and helped her step down from the vehicle. Once she was on solid ground y/n pulled him down by his collar and pressed yet another kiss to his lips. Their kiss count for the day was nearing triple digits. y/n shuffled toward the back of the Bronco to admire Bob’s handiwork again, pulling her husband along with her. Bradley wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed wet kisses to her neck. y/n suppressed her quiet moans and tried to stay focused on the task at hand, but it was a near-futile effort.

“Honey, do you think we should-hmm, oh-take these off before we go to the airport? We have to leave-hmmph-early tomorrow morning,” y/n finished breathlessly. Rooster’s ministrations were distracting and relentless. He groaned against her neck and nipped at one of the sensitive areas he knew by heart.

“Baby, if I don’t get you inside right now we’ll both be charged with indecent exposure,” he spoke directly against her goose-bump-covered skin and ground his hips against her back to emphasize his point. y/n tossed her head back against Bradley’s chest with a grin and a devious glint in her eyes.

“Take me to bed, you big stud,” she whispered. Bradley heard her loud and clear. He tossed y/n over his shoulder and practically sprinted toward the door. Though most of the blood in his body had rushed elsewhere, he still was mindful enough to carry his wife across their home’s threshold bridal style.

Bradley Brashaw is a smart man. Incredibly smart. He knew his plane inside and out, could take it apart and build it back up again from each individual part. The same was true for his Bronco and y/n’s car, for that matter. There weren’t many mechanical problems he couldn’t solve with his toolkit and some WD-40.

So what was stumping him?

An infant car seat.

He understood clearly how it should be installed. He’d read the manual three times over to make sure he didn’t miss any details. He wanted, no, needed to make sure his baby would be absolutely safe. Bradley wanted the car seat to be able to safely withstand a moon launch. The problem was that the manual directions weren’t working. He groaned and rested his forehead against the cool leather backseat. It was almost, but not quite cold enough to distract him from the sweltering California summer heat.

Against her husband’s protest, y/n followed him out to the front yard and observed as he installed their soon-to-be-Earthside baby’s car seat. The relentless San Diego heat was getting to y/n too. At eight months pregnant, she was already uncomfortable. With the added humidity? She was bordering on miserable. The couple didn’t really think through the timing of the pregnancy and the fact that y/n would be in her third trimester during the hottest time of the year. Actually, they hadn’t really thought through getting pregnant much at all. It wasn’t that y/n and Bradley weren’t trying to get pregnant. They just… got carried away one too many times.

Nonetheless, they were excited to be parents.

Bradley didn’t have to say anything for y/n to know he was getting frustrated. She could read her husband like a book. She slowly walked over to him, being cautious of her bump and lightly rubbed Rooster’s tan sweat-covered back. The aviator sighed and relaxed into his wife’s touch for a moment before he swung around to face her.

“Go sit down!” Bradley pleaded exasperatedly. As much as the aviator acted like a tough guy around his coworkers, y/n knew he was a teddy bear at heart. A teddy bear that worried incessantly. His eyes were wide as he took in his wife’s form. A large hand subconsciously gravitated toward her growing bump. y/n rolled her eyes but leaned into her husband’s comforting touch nonetheless.

“I’m pregnant, Brad. Not incapacitated.” she said pointedly. Bradley groaned inwardly. The exchange was all too familiar and he rarely won. y/n rested an arm on the door frame and looked around the back seat at Bradley’s progress (or lack thereof). She thumbed through the installation manual herself and Bradley looked as well, his chin resting on her shoulder. He reached his arms around her front to gently support the weight of her bump and y/n swore the instant relief she felt was akin to very few worldly pleasures.

y/n didn’t find anything in the manual Bradley hadn’t already. She didn’t expect to, but it was worth a try. She leisurely grabbed the nearest seat belt buckle and examined it.

“Maybe the buckles are just too outdated? Not compatible with the car seat or something like that?” y/n offered with a shrug. Bradley sucked in a sharp breath behind her.

“Don’t… don’t shit on the car, baby,” he spoke softly, a pained strain in his voice. y/n rolled her eyes and turned around to swat Rooster’s pec with the instruction manual. She obviously had no intention of taking a dig at the Bronco; the car had more history than either of them. To get his mind off of the failed car seat installation, y/n coaxed Bradley inside for a lemonade break. The cold beverage had been her pregnancy craving all summer, so they always had an excessive amount on hand. With a resigned sigh, Bradley followed y/n inside their house looking like a kid who’d dropped his ice cream directly on the pavement.

Though y/n invited Bradley inside so that he could take a break, he insisted on having his wife sit down while he poured lemonade into two glasses. y/n’s attention was split in two directions. The car seat adapters she was browsing through on her phone were interesting enough, but her husband’s sculpted figure was much more captivating. Bradley rounded the kitchen island and settled in next to his wife on the bar stools, peering at her phone as he passed her a cold glass of lemonade. y/n leaned over to peck her husband’s cheek in thanks when she noticed where his eyes were trained. From the way y/n straightened her back and grinned, Bradley should’ve known she was up to no good. But, in his defense, he was feeling too defeated to notice.

“You know, you could always just trade the Bronco in for a minivan,” y/n suggested with an innocent facade. She casually toyed with a loose strand of her hair and watched the fifty-some emotions morphing over Bradley’s face. y/n had a much better poker face than her husband, but she couldn’t help but crack and burst out into laughter when Bradley delivered a final deadpan look. He tugged her stool to face him directly so that he could look her in the eyes. Sure, y/n might’ve been joking, but he was so serious in that moment.

“Honey, I will drive that car until the damn wheels fall off,” Bradley declared without a single shred of doubt. y/n failed to hide her giggles behind the glass of lemonade and soon enough Rooster broke into a grin too. When she finally got a chance to catch her breath, y/n intertwined her fingers with Bradley’s.

“As long as I get to ride shotgun,” she half-whispered with a twinkle in her eye. Bradley took y/n’s glass out of her hands before softly gripping the back of her neck and pulling her in for a deep kiss. When they pulled away they gladly welcomed air back into their lungs. Bradley rested his forehead against y/n’s and traced his thumb over her flushed cheek.

“Always, baby.”

a/n: i snuck another top gun ‘86 reference in here…👀 i absolutely love love reading ur comments & reblogs so please don't be shy <3

have a good day luvs!

#rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster imagine

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hotvintagepoll · 3 months

Note

Thank u so much for making this blog! Logging on to read all the silly tags of ppl fighting for their lives to convince others to vote for their faves is so wonderful to see. Seeing all of this after a long day being an adult and having responsibilities is so nice and relaxing. And I love how you have inspired some other fandom battle Royale polls too <3 I am low key hoping someone pits all the animated disney characters together (Mufasa from the lion king on top!!!) anyway thank u so much for everything! Can’t wait to see who wins the actor and actress battles!

Thank you! Has no one done a Disney character poll yet? That's nuts.

anyway apropos of nothing. here's this

If you'd like to base your vote off their voices, not their faces, you can hear clips of each of them below:

June Foray (Lucifer in Cinderella)

Verna Felton and Barbara Luddy (Flora and Merriweather, respectively)

Eleanor Audley (Maleficent in Sleeping Beauty)

Phil Harris and Charles Sebastian Thomas Cabot (Baloo and Bagheera, respectively)

Sterling Holloway and Eva Gabor (Roquefort the mouse and Duchess the Cat)

Bill Thompson (The Dodo and The White Rabbit in this same clip from Alice in Wonderland)

edit: fucked up and put the wrong Phil in. It's Phil Harris apparently. The Disney people are allowed to eat me now.

#fuck i love voice actors. fuck i love old animation.#asks #minis #hotvintagepoll #disney #animation #voice actors

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squirrellypoo · 5 months

Text

I love AMC's "Interview with the Vampire" tv show so much that I wanted to show my appreciation by sewing my interpretation of Claudia's New Year's Eve outfit from episode 7. The scene is barely a minute long, with Claudia's costume only partly visible for a few seconds, however, so there wasn't much footage to go on.

Thankfully, though, the costume designer for the show, Carol Cutshall, shares incredible details of the vintage inspirations, costume design, and behind the scenes photos on her Instagram page after the episodes air, and shared details of this outfit along with sketches and behind the scenes photos of the actress, Bailey Bass!

I'd like to stress that this is not cosplay - I'm not trying to BE the actress or the character, but sewing my own interpretation of the garments. I try to avoid sewing "fast fashion" as much as I avoid buying it, and I strive to only have clothing in my wardrobe that I will wear again and again.

Cape: Pattern: self-drafted Fabric: Italian floral silk/polyamide cloqué, ribbon, and metal ball hook all from MacCulloch & Wallis, black satin lining from my stash.

I based the pattern off of a classic circle skirt, modifying it for the narrower fabric and squeezing in a lined hood as well! I also added a hook at the neck to take the strain off the ribbon, and finally, little wrist loops so that I too can look like a little bat with my arms out!⁠

Shirt: Pattern: Named Saraste from “Breaking the Pattern” book Fabric: Black textured silk & red silk satin from my stash

I was lucky enough to have the most perfect textured silk already in my stash. I also found a tiny scrap of red silk satin which I added to the inner collar and yoke to give a hint of red to the neck as a nod to my favourite vampires!⁠

I used low-key black corozo buttons for the front, but added some drama to the cuffs with metal skull buttons, which I gave red eyes using red nail varnish!⁠

Trousers: Pattern: BurdaStyle 06/2023 no108 Fabric: Deadstock Japanese burgundy acetate twill from New Craft House

I'm not normally a fan of wide-legged trousers, or high waists, or side zippers, so I modified the design to be something closer to my own style and preferences.⁠ I used the black satin lining from the cape to line the pockets, added a little Claudia cartoon heat set vinyl inside the waistband to serve as the label, and finished the hem with black lace for an invisible hand sewn finish.

Overall, I'm stupidly happy with how all three pieces turned out and that I will be able to wear them separately as well as together. I poured all my love for this show into sewing these garments (while I was suffering from extreme post-viral fatigue, too), and I'm proud I can put my skills to use in this fandom!

#interview with the vampire #iwtv #carol cutshall you are a goddess #sewing is my superpower #claudia de pointe du lac #claudia the vampire #iwtv fandom

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lovingmayday · 10 months

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STREET RACER! HOBIE BROWN x READER

warnings : illegal street racing, cursing, suggestive – slight nsfw?

notes : im obssessed with racer aus so i thought why not write one with a character im absolutely obssessed with as well

part 1 ☆ part 2

ok so heheehhehehe, street racer hobie is the absolutely coolest and chillest man ever!! idk shit about cars but i watched the fast furious series

imagine him in a dirty tank top and baggy pants with a jumper tied around his tiny waist !!!!!!! you'd just be unabashedly staring at him while he's working on his car.

he slides with his back on his skateboard to view the underside of his car and, from your view, you see his tank rising to show his midriff. you better expect him with a large smirk on his face when he catches you.

street racer hobie probably has an older vintage model. he stripped it from its original engine and built it from top to bottom. he probably stole the lot of them too.

he was already doing something illegal anyway, he reasons.

he also definitely customizes his car like duh. full on spikes on the wheels, grafitti on the doors, stickers on the bumper, everything! he prolly won't mind scratches either and leaves a few of them in view. thinks they're baddass.

street racer hobie can't for the life of him give his car one name. it's got to be different everytime. bessie, marcus, mona, ev, billie jean, annabel, etc.

street racer hobie just doesn't care if anyone plays dirty. you gotta do what you gotta do. but you would be INSANE if you think he wouldn't reciprocate that tenfold. he's an adrenaline junkie and would love the thrill of it.

street racer hobie is pretty friendly and chill to his fellow racers otherwise. he'd hype up his friends a lot.

i wasn't super sure if he would gamble tbh. the money wouldn't going to greedy capitalistic pigs so maybe he would.

street racer hobie wouldn't care if they raised betting prices. if he didn't have the money for it, he'd simply back out. would absolutely never bet you or the pink slip to his car. he can find that kind of thrill somewhere else anyways wink wink.

street racer hobie definitely shows you off. he always brings you to his races. he thinks you are good luck and it works (most of the time), but even if it didn't he'd still bring you to show off how amazing he is

street racer hobie would never tolerate any disrespect directed towards you. he'd run them over w his car if you'd let him.

street racer hobie makes out w you when waiting for races to start. against his car? he doesn't care. inside? he doesn't care. everyone can see you? he doesn't care. he wouldn't care even if he was fucking you on the hood of his car in public. but he would if it bothered you, of course <3 he'd find an alley to park his car in and have you there

speaking of, don't forget to give him his reward after~ whether he won or not, he'd still wait for his consolation prize

#atsv hobie #hobie #hobie brown #hobie x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie spiderverse #spider punk x reader #spider punk #spiderman: across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #hobie brown atsv #atsv #hobart brown

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gogobootz1 · 2 years

Text

Drive My Car

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Having made your living as a successful mechanic, you're not one to be underestimated. Rooster picks up on that quickly.

3.3k words Top Gun Masterlist

Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw was in desperate need of a vacation. Having recently succeeded in an extremely dangerous mission, he felt he deserved a break.

Apparently so did the rest of his team. He wasn't quite sure how they did it, but when he mentioned he rented a house in Joshua Tree about half of the team invited themselves along.

So there he was, on his way to the rental house a few hours early to pick up the keys. The lonely highway was a pleasant drive. With expanses of desert on either side, the view wasn't bad at all. It was so beautiful he actually pulled over for a second to admire it and enjoy a quiet moment before the chaos that his vacation would surely be.

After a minute or two, he decided to get back on the road. But when a few miles passed the car sputtered to a stop. Clearly, he'd used up all his luck on the uranium plant mission. Rooster let out a huff, resting his head against the wheel. How could this get worse? He got his answer when smoke started coming from under the hood. In a flash, he was stumbling out of the car.

Rooster put his hands on his head, panicking. He was more than an hour away from home, there was no body shop in sight, and his car could not be driven.

"Need some help there?" A voice asked from behind him. He turned to see an older man hopping down from his tow truck. Rooster let out a sigh of relief.

"Yes, actually," he told the man. Together the two of them managed to get the Bronco on the back of his tow truck. The man, Marty, he'd learned, told Rooster he'd take him to the auto shop he worked at a few miles away.

They pulled into the parking lot of a big building with a large blue sign that read "Doc's Auto Shop." When they parked, Marty unloaded the Bronco from the back of the truck. Rooster looked around at the busy shop, taking in the vintage vehicles and the more modern ones he saw.

"Hey Johnny," Marty yelled from behind Rooster, "go get Doc!" He saw the young boy who had been drinking a coke put it down and race into the garage. At about the same time, he saw a woman walk out at the other end.

“Marty," you called to the older man, "what've you got over there?"

“Come see,” he said as you made your way over.

“She’s a beaut-“ You turned towards who you presumed to be the car's owner. He looked just as vintage as his vehicle. Not that you were complaining- you loved the oldies. Music, cars, fashion- it spoke to you. If nothing else, they sure did have style back then. “A 1972 Ford Bronco?”

Your words seem to catch him off guard. “You… know your stuff,” he nodded. "We're just waiting for the owner to come take a look." You raised your eyebrows.

"Really?" You asked.

"Yeah," he confirms, "it was pretty bad- smoke coming out from under the hood."

"Geez," you said, pretending to be worried. "I hope the owner can fix it for you."

"Doc!" You turned to see Johnny running up to you, out of breath. "Marty's looking for y-" the boy cut himself off when he saw you were already talking to him. He let out a huff, and his shoulders sagged. Johnny shook his head and turned to go back into the garage.

"Sorry, kiddo!" You called after him. Turning back around, you saw the man in the Hawaiian shirt looking at you with wide eyes.

"You're-?" He began to ask.

"This is Doc," Marty introduced you to the man, and his eyes cut to the sign over the door. You gave him your real name as you shook his hand.

"Rooster," he told you, then chuckled at the confusion on your face. "Bradley," he amended.

You smile, "Doc was my father, I've just inherited his nickname. And his business."

“She practically grew up under a car,” Marty says, clapping his hand on your shoulder, "she's earned it."

"Well, I really put my foot in my mouth, huh?" Rooster asked, looking sheepish.

You shook your head, dismissing his concern with a laugh. "Your Bronco's giving you trouble?" You asked, eager to change the topic. If you could get back to work you could stop awkwardly staring at the gloriously sun-kissed man before you.

Rooster ran a hand through his hair. The image of which surely would not leave you for a while. "Gave out on me in the middle of the road," he sighed, "I was lucky Marty saw me."

You nodded, considering what could've gone wrong. "Well, my last appointment just called and canceled, so I can take a look right now."

“Are you sure?" He asked, afraid to inconvenience you after he'd probably offended you.

"Absolutely," you told him. When you saw the worry on his face, you stopped. "I'll be careful," you tried to reassure him, "in the meantime, we have a very comfortable waiting room." Marty took this as his cue to lead Rooster away from the car so you could do your job.

About an hour later you entered the waiting room with some bad news. Based on Rooster's reaction, it clearly showed on your face. He stood up right away, waiting for your diagnosis.

"You've got a coolant leak," you grimace. His head fell forward in defeat.

"How long will it-"

"About a week," you told him regretfully. His eyes widened you smiled sympathetically. "I'll have to order you a new head gasket and it'll take a few days for it to come in."

You could see the gears turning in his brain. "Could it sit here for a few days if you finish it early?"

Your brow furrowed as you considered his question. Slowly you nodded, "I suppose-"

"Perfect- I have to make a call," Rooster says, rushing out of the waiting room. The bell jingled behind him and you turned towards Carol who sat at the desk, confused. She just shrugged at you.

In the parking lot Rooster scrolled through his contacts, attempting to find the only other person who would probably already be on the road.

"Phoenix!" He said joyfully when she picked up.

"What do you want, Bradshaw?"

"Did you happen to ignore my request to not come until later and already start driving?" He asked, hopefully.

"...Maybe," she said reluctantly.

"Perfect," he sighed in relief.

"Perfect?" Natasha asked him, confused.

"Perfect!" He confirmed, "I need you to come pick me up."

"What?!"

"Long story, car broke down, gorgeous mechanic fixing it, I'll send you my location." Rooster said, hanging up on her. He texted her where he was, then pushed back through the waiting room doors.

"Are you done for the day?" He asked, seemingly in better spirits. The question caught you off guard.

"Sorry?"

"Don't be sorry unless you're too busy to show me a good place to eat." He sends a charming smile your way.

"In that case, I'm not sorry at all." You smile at him. "You mind waiting for a minute?" He waves you off, and you run to change out of the clothes that'd been stained with motor oil.

Five minutes later you were back and better than ever. "So where are we off to?" Your companion asked as he followed you out of the waiting room.

"We're making the terribly long voyage across the street," you said. He chuckled at your poor joke.

"And what distinguishes this diner from every other one in small-town America?" Rooster asked you teasingly.

"Me," you replied indignantly, pushing open the door. "And some pretty sweet pie." A genuine smile crossed his face. You grabbed a seat in a corner booth and he planted himself across from you. Your friend, Jennie, brought two glasses of water over and promised she'd be back to take your order.

"So what brings you out this way?" You asked, taking a sip.

"I'm going on vacation," Rooster tells you.

"Exciting," you nod. His facial expression suggested otherwise. "Not exciting?"

"Well, it was supposed to be a relaxing solo retreat to Joshua Tree, but everyone in the Dagger Squad highjacked it." He huffed.

You paused, "your friend group's name is 'The Dagger Squad'?" You asked skeptically.

"They're my colleagues, really," he corrected you.

"Do you sell knives?" You ask, confused. "Actually, that would explain your nickname."

"I fly planes for the Navy." Your eyes widened at his words.

"Wow, I was way off." He chuckled at your words. "So one of your fellow pilots will pick you up and whisk you off to your vacation?"

"That's the plan," Rooster confirmed. "I'll pick up the Bronco on the way back if that's okay."

"Sure thing," you told him. Soon enough Jennie came by to take your order.

"The mac and cheese for me and the double burger with fries for the lady, please," she chuckled lightly at your order and nodded, heading toward the kitchen.

"I didn't realize we were close enough for you to order for me," he said snottily.

"Oh please," you waved off his words, "you would've ordered the wrong thing." Rooster's brows rose in an instant. "I did you a favor!" You insisted.

"We'll see about that, hon."

"It's actually pronounced 'Doc'," you said, and snickered at the unamused glance he threw you.

The diner wasn't crowded that early on a Tuesday, so your food came out in record time. When Rooster took a bite of his burger, he practically moaned.

You smirked at him, "See, aren't you glad I hijacked your order?' He glared at you.

"Shut up," he said, mouth full of food. You laughed at him as you dug into your bowl of mac and cheese. "Did you get that off the kids' menu?" He mocked, and you took an overly dramatic gasp.

"And what's so wrong with the kids' menu?" You asked him, brow raised.

"Nothing," he said, and you nodded happily, "if you're a kid." Your eyes widened at him, and he snickered at you.

"Oh, just eat your burger you animal," you snapped at him. He had practically already finished it.

"I was hungry!" He said defensively, and you shrugged.

"Some people like to maintain a certain level of decorum," you teased. He rolled his eyes at your words, still smiling.

"And you eating a seven-year-old boy's serving of Mac and Cheese just screams poise."

"Who needs poise when they have room for pie?" You were quick to shoot back.

"Touche." He nodded.

"So when is your friend coming?" You asked him, taking another bite.

Rooster checked his watch, "Phoenix should be here in half an hour."

"Great-plenty of pie time." He chuckled at you.

"Is it really that good?"

"You're gonna eat those words." You promised him. "Hey, Jennie!" You called from across the store, "a slice of pecan pie, please." She rolled her eyes and gave you a thumbs up.

"Hey now, how do you know I don't have a pecan allergy?"

"You're not the type," you dismissed.

"I'm not the type to have an allergy?"

"You're not the type to have a nut allergy," you specified.

"And why not?"

"Because you're all," you hesitated, "warm and rich and chestnuts roasting on an open fire." Rooster smirked at you for a second. "And you look like you eat Reese's cups for breakfast." His face turned with a frown.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"How can I-?" He was interrupted by a slice of pie being plopped between the two of you. You picked up both forks and graciously handed him one.

"Cheers," you clinked your fork to his and he snickered. The two of you took a bite at the same time. You watched as his eyes lit up and he instantly went to get more on his fork.

"That good?" You mocked his words from earlier. He hummed in agreement as he shoved more in his mouth. You let out a laugh at his antics.

"I'm gonna eat it all if you don't hop to," he said, mouth full of pie. You were quick to start eating it.

After a surprisingly pleasant dinner, which Rooster had paid for despite your protests, he received a text that said his friend was there. The two of you stood up to head out of the diner, but he paused.

"Would you mind giving me your number?" You raised a brow. "So I can check in, you know? When I'm missing my baby?"

"You're really attached to that Bronco, huh?" You asked, taking his phone and entering your number.

"You might say that," he said, with faux thoughtfulness.

"Well, have a nice vacation, Rooster," you told him with a smile, "try not to let your colleagues annoy you too much"

He groaned, "we'll see."

"And try not to spend too much of it worrying about your car," you said, "or texting me worrying about your car." This earned you a flirty smile.

"No promises, darling." He winked.

You rolled your eyes at him, grinning. "I'll see you in a week."

"Are you sure you won't see me in your dreams?" He teased.

"Be careful what you wish for," you said, shaking your head, "my dreams are weird as shit."

He let out a chuckle, "see you then." You gave him a wave as he climbed into the passenger seat of a Subaru SVU.

"What was that all about?" Phoenix turned to him as he pulled the door shut.

"What was what?" He asked, defensively.

"Oh I don't know," she mocked, "the goofy grin on your face, the mystery container in your hand."

"This is pie." He told her.

"That doesn't explain shit!" She insisted.

"Fine, fine," he gave in, "I'll tell you everything, but you have to drive away before it gets weird." Natasha rolled her eyes and started down the road.

"So?" She demanded after a minute.

"The Bronco broke down and I may be putting the moves on the mechanic."

Natasha sighed, "you get her number?"

He grinned from ear to ear and nodded at her. "Unfortunately there was no piano in that diner so I had to rely on charm alone."

"You're so insufferable, Bradshaw."

"Thank you, Trace."

It had been a few hours since you'd gotten off of work. After taking a shower and eating dinner, you'd settled in on the couch to watch some tv. Just as a new episode started you heard your phone buzz.

How's my baby?

You rolled your eyes. There was only one person that text could've come from. You shook your head as you typed out a reply.

Literally the same - how's Joshua Tree?

It'd be better if I didn't have to hide

????

I don't want someone to take my pie

you're ridiculous

In response to your snide comment, he a selfie with his slice of pie.

Ridiculously good at keeping my food away from thieves

good luck with that, Rooster

;) what are you up to?

watching a show 🤷‍♀️

Somehow he kept a text conversation with you going for a while. At least until you told him you were tired from work and were going to bed.

The next day he, of course, pestered you a few times about his beloved car. But you were not expecting him to start another casual conversation with you.

So what do you do when you're not keeping my car company?

Is your vacation really this boring?

Yes.

What are you up to?

making dinner

and what are you having?

come on- there's not a swimming pool at the house you rented or something?

fine. I'm making Kraft.

Do you only eat Mac and Cheese?

shut up

never ;)

you text like my twelve-year-old cousin

At least I don't have the diet of your twelve year old cousin

rude

true

who texts like a twelve-year-old now?

still you

You laughed when you saw the bubbles pop up on the screen. All you could assume was that he was typing furiously on the other side of the screen. For the next few nights, it was the same routine. He'd text some stupid question loosely related to the state of his car, then twist the conversation to actually talk to you.

You actually enjoyed texting him. To the point where you were considering "accidentally" misplacing the gasket that had just come in for his Bronco. But you quickly dismissed that notion. Just because you'd be sad after he stopped texting you didn't mean you could sabotage your own work.

Finally, a week after you'd first met him, he sent you a text saying he'd be by around noon the next day to grab the Bronco. You'd actually been too busy to replace the part yet, so you'd really have to dedicate the morning to Bradley's "baby" as he liked to call it.

As midday rolled around the next day, the car was looking pretty damn good. You'd gotten it all fixed up and were currently washing it. And no, that definitely wasn't overkill.

A whistle sounded from behind you, and you turned to see the man you'd met a week ago. The one who'd totally been flirting with you over text all week. You wondered briefly if he only wanted discounted service.

"Lookin' good"

"Well, I've been working on her all morning," you told him.

"You sure I was talking about the car, honey?" He asked. You raised a brow, then turned the hose on him.

"HEY!" He shouted. "Now what on Earth was that for?"

"Just a warning," you said playfully.

"Fine, then." He replied, approaching the vehicle. Before you knew it he had reached into the wash bucket and threw a handful of soap suds at you.

"Oh you are so in for it," you said as you started chasing him with the hose. He picked up the bucket and continued to throw soap suds in retaliation. After a few minutes of play fighting, he interrupted.

"Truce, truce," he said with his hands held up. You reluctantly agreed. "How do expect me to drive home when I'm soaked to the bone?" He asked you.

"Easy, just take your clothes off." You replied. He snorted.

"Now you want me to be arrested for public nudity?" Rooster asked you playfully.

"Everyone would be too busy staring to call the police," you assured him.

"Oh yeah?" He asked.

"Absolutely," you assured him.

"Well if you insist," he said, tugging his shirt over his head. That- you were not expecting. Nor were you expecting such a defined set of abs. You knew he was fit but goddamn.

"It seems to be working," he teased.

"Oh shut up," you said, smacking him with a towel you'd set aside to dry the car off.

"You're really gonna treat a customer like that?" He asked you, looking around, "where are your customers anyways?"

"We're closed on Saturdays," you told him softly, working on drying the Bronco off.

"Oh well, in that case," he said, grabbing your waist and spinning you around. Your eyes just about popped out of your head as you found yourself in his arms.

"Bradley?"

"Can I kiss you?" He asked, a contemplative look on his face.

"Are you gonna put your shirt back on?" His brows raised at your question.

"No," he shrugged.

"Then, yes" you nodded. He let out a laugh but was interrupted as your lips met his own. Instantly Bradley's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer. Only, while you were distracted, he reached behind you to grab the bucket of soapy water. When you were least expecting it, he dumped it over your head and ended your temporary truce.

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

I'm so sorry, I know nothing about cars this was just for the vibe.

#rooster x reader #Bradley Bradshaw x reader #top gun maverick #top gun x reader #Bradley bradhsaw #top gun fic

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thedroneranger · 1 year

Text

Centerfold

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Précis: Jake's favorite duo gifts him an anniversary surprise he'll cherish forever.

Note: An imagine in the To-Do List collection. This one is for @cherrycola27, who came screaming into my dms with this idea after reading Car Wash. 🖤

Third image is what I envisioned for the described panty-garterbelt combo. Courtesy of Honey Birdette.

Warnings: 18+ only, nudity, body parts, adult themes.

Word count: 1.1k

Jake hustled into the house, worried he was going to be late. Tossing his keys on the table in the entryway, he thudded up the stairs to the bedroom. As he crossed the threshold, he pulled his shirt over his head. Once he could see again, he stopped in his tracks. There, on his side of the bed, lay a neatly wrapped package. Curious, he walked over.

As he approached, Jake read his name in her handwriting on the card tucked under the bow. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Jake pulled the package into his lap and unearthed the card.

Enjoy. xo

He sat the card beside him and tugged the bow until it fell apart. Once the ribbon was off, he lifted the lid to find a square black leather book with “For your eyes only” debossed in the middle of the cover. He ran his hand across the small words and curled his fingers around the edge to open it.

The cover page read, “Happy anniversary.” A smile graced his lips as he flipped to the next page to see her leaning out the window of his 1967 Ford Mustang parked on a scenic cliff somewhere along the coast. Her chin rested on her haphazardly folded arms, and she was smirking into the camera. Jake loved everything about it.

His smile widened as he turned the page to see her in the first of several traditional pinup poses.

She donned an open black bomber jacket that revealed just her sternum and the inner curve of her breasts. A gift from Jake to mimic his flight suit, it bore his squadron patches and a call sign patch that read “Mrs. Hangman.” She paired it with the most delicate black lace panties and garterbelt. Jake wasn’t sure how the belt was even holding up her stockings. She was perched on the hood of the car, legs on full display.

In the next photo, she was standing back to the camera, looking over her shoulder, clutching a soapy sponge against ‘Stang, the nickname they gave his vintage muscle car. A smirk curled Jake’s mouth as he noticed she was clad in the infamous black triangle bikini and high-waisted cutoff denim shorts.

The outfit took him back to the day he came home to find her washing ‘Stang in the driveway. His heart began to race as he thought about her riding his lap in the front seat parked in the garage. The mental replay had him shifting in his seat. For a minute, he tried to think about less sexy things to keep himself together. After all, he still needed to get ready for dinner.

Clearing his throat, he thumbed further through the montage, enjoying each pose of his favorite duo.

The upcoming page was thicker than the previous ones. Interest further piqued, he turned it to learn it was the middle of the book and folded out twice its size.

“Holy…” he trailed off as he unfurled the centerfold to reveal her draped naked across the hood. ‘Stang’s shiny chrome grill with the iconic wild mustang galloping in the center was the least impressive part of the image.

She was casual yet sultry with her elbows resting on the hood and her temple pressed against the knuckles of her interlaced hands as she stared at Jake from the page. Her biceps strategically covered her nipples, but left the bottom swells of her breasts exposed. Suddenly, Jake had cottonmouth.

When his gaze fell upon her barely parted pouty lips, he felt a sudden rush of blood to his lap. Her hair was also mussed just right and her skin had a certain glow, reminding him of how she often looked after they fucked.

Next, he was drawn to the slope of her shoulders that led to her back then her waist and finally rolled up her perfectly shaped ass. The soft curves of her thighs trailed to the backs of her knees where her legs extended off the hood, jutting into toned calves and ending with perfectly pedicured toes.

Jake’s fingers traced her figure on the page. His mind autofilling the feel of each curve.

“Do you like it?” Jake jumped up, nearly dropping the book. Instead, he caught it by the pages. Terrified, he inspected it and found no damage. Once he was sure his gift was ok, he looked at his wife in the doorway.

Immediately, he did a double take as she leaned against the door jamb, donning the bomber jacket outfit from the book.

She swaggered over to Jake, and together, they sat back down on the edge of the bed. She sidled up to him so she was pressed against his side, a hand planted behind him on the bed as Jake held the book in his lap. “We should look at the second half,” she added.

Jake looked between her and the book. “Do we have time?” He was thinking about their dinner reservation.

Her smile said it all. She folded the pages back in, so they could browse the back half. “These are a little more intimate,” she added.

His mouth fell open as she flipped the page to reveal herself nude and laying upside down in the driver’s seat. Her forearms tastefully covered her breasts as her hands cupped her neck. Head hanging off the seat, her hair cascaded out the open door. Her long legs reached up to the ceiling, the balls of her feet anchoring her.

Mesmerized, Jake held the book as she reached across him to reveal another set of images. On the left, ‘Stang’s hood was open, and she was leaning into it with one leg popped. All her scandalous bits in shadow, but the lighting perfectly shone the silhouetted curves of her backside and supple breasts.

On the right was a straight-on view of her wide hips, round ass and long legs as she leaned into the trunk. Of course, she was naked, but her core was shadowed perfectly to keep the image in good taste.

They finished the rest of the book, her flipping pages as Jake stared in awe. In his wildest dreams he had not thought about having a keepsake of professionally shot images of his wife and vintage car.

She closed the book and slid it off his lap, revealing an impressive bulge. A smile pulled her lips as she looked up at him through her eyelashes. His green eyes were dark with lust. “We’re gonna have to skip dinner…” he trailed off, as she straddled his lap.

“That was the plan.” She smiled as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his.

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