#bradley bitch i love you.

[nixie-deangel]

@redfurrycat

#nixie darlin...#Jake gets suicidal because he wants to join Bradley#if not in Life then Afterlife it will be#so Jake gets Maverick times 10#except Death!Rooster won't accept Jake's life so Jake does it again and again and again#until...#one day....#👀

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 LOVE THAT! Jake absolutely would go all unhinged Maverick-esqe but Bradley just being completely done because nope. no Jake, no you do not get to join me in death, not till you've lived. no, I just won't let you! Bradley just unbelievably desperate to do whatever he can, to break whatever rules he needs too, to ensure Jake lives.

based off this art by frosty.

[impossibleprincess35]

(Cambridge, lol)

[yanderestarangel]

⋆ 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍!𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎'𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀 ⋆

A/N: He's back bitches, DADDY MIGUEL O'HARA.

SYNOPSIS: Miguel is a 45-year-old man who works in a local library, also giving tutoring classes in literature to the local village community, you decide to go visit him after being on vacation, awakening a side of himself that Miguel didn't know.

TW: Yandere themes, age gap, afab anatomy, betrayal, dark themes, threats, manipulation, smut, au.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA -He leads a peaceful life, always opening the library at 9 am and closing at 9 pm, sometimes staying overtime to look at the landscape outside the large windows, to try to forget his failed marriage with his wife.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who has the same patterns every day, namely: taking both children to school by car, buying the same fruits to eat throughout the day - a few dates, an apple and a bottle of coffee aluminum portable, hot and sugar-free in the dark green side pouch he carries everything he needs for that day -

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - What you see in a boring life, everything was the same, he worked out, went for walks on the weekends, watched the same period films after 11pm, in the same leather armchair that got hot in the uncomfortable summer heat, drinking the same beer while the black and white images of the Hollywood film passed through the lens of his glasses, while he smelled the cold food made by his wife, who as always, had left the children with him and gone out.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who woke up late that day due to the hangover from the several beers he had on Sunday, rushing to drop his children off at school and avoid an argument with his wife early in the morning. He calmly went to the library, after all, there was no one there at that end of the world. But he was wrong. He soon saw you, sitting on the steps of the cold concrete stairs while waiting for someone to open the library, he had never seen you in the community, so it was a surprise for him to see someone so beautiful and different from the routine faces in the village. Miguel got out of the car, adjusting his round glasses, giving you a polite "good morning", his strong accent mixed with the smell of coffee coming from his lips, he opened the library while looking you up and down, he would casually ask you your name and what you do there. You spoke your reasons politely, while explaining that you were on vacation and decided to visit the tourist attractions of that village, such as the lighthouse and rough sea, as well as the large library, which, in addition to needing some literature classes, you two were taking Miguel O'Hara nods and gives a practically invisible sideways shy smile.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who gets excited like a young man when he sees you interested in literature, Miguel would make a point of giving you some books as a gift, explaining about each one, especially if you like gothic literature, such as: Bram Stocker, Marion Zimmer Bradley, Edgar Allan Poe, Bram Stocker - or horror stories, he automatically falls in love if you, speaking excerpts from his favorite stories while pouring you some coffee, sitting in front of him while the two of you did a literary duo circle, the voices echoing through the ancient wood.

"-With a long scrutinizing look at the shadow, which frightens me, which haunts me, And I dream of what no mortal has ever dreamed of, But the vast and silent silence, silent remains; the quiet stillness." -O'Hara reads with a strong, hoarse accent, his voice was raw, reverberating his passion for each verse and word he spoke, holding the book in his thick fingers, now, with the abandonment of the wedding ring he wore, even though he was still married, you didn't need to know that detail.

"-Only you, unique and beloved word, Lenora, you, like a scarce sigh, leave my sad mouth; And the echo, which heard you, whispered to you in space; It was just that, nothing more." -You completed, reading your part in the tale of "The Crow" while feeling the older man's gauze on your body, while Salvatore's hands massaged your bare shoulder, lightly adjusting the clothes you wore, a long and possessive touch.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who offers you a ride home, turning on the radio while asking you everything about yourself, if you were dating, if you had traveled with someone, he expected you to be totally alone, totally for him. Miguel drops you off at home while he says a quick goodbye, but he actually just hides the car in the middle of some trees, looking out your windows, writing down your nighttime habits in a diary - he got home later that night, his wife noticed the delay, but he just made up an excuse, mostly lying that he had lost the ring in a library cleaning, which was a lie, he got rid of the ring in the sea, near the local town port -

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who studied everything about you on the days you two were alone in the library, becomes his refuge. Don't get him wrong, O'Hara loves his children, but he hates coming home and seeing that his marriage is a failure, and that the woman he was once so in love with, young days that passed through his life in long ago, Now she's just a strange and cold woman, but you? You are his treasure, always happy, smiling sweetly, asking if he is okay, or if he has eaten that day, if he needs help with something in his work as a librarian, you are so angelic, so beautiful, so his. You're totally his, aren't you?

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who lies to you about his private life, saying that his wife and he are divorced and he just lets her live close to the children, he lies so naturally that even he himself believes in the madness of his mind.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA- Who finds an excuse to leave you up late with him in the library, telling you about some more books, and giving you a letter, letters that were always sealed in luxurious black paper like an envelope, with a red coat of arms with an 'M' for Miguel, big in the center, he always asked you to open it at home, they were poems and poetry written by him, about you, but each time, with each letter given to you, they became darker, more intense, more... Intimate.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Which makes you sit on his muscular legs that night in the peace of the library, while his big, calloused hands lightly run over your thighs, while he praises you. "-Your skin is soft like the finest and purest silk, your lips are full and shiny with life, your smile is like the epitome of beauty, I look at you and see an angel, not even the richest kings who had harems with several women And men, none of them come close to your beauty, mi angelito, did you know that? Your heart is so pure and beautiful, your soul is practically eradicated from your carnal being." -Miguel spoke hoarsely, as he forced you to look at him, his eyes shone, not only with enlightenment but with love, a sick love for you.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA -He fingers you slowly and lightly, giving you kisses on the head, feeling the smell and softness of your hair, his fingers enter and curve slightly, he was an expert in that, he wanted to make you come, to make you see the stars in the sky pleasure he could give you. Miguel praises you even more when he sees you moaning so beautifully, writhing in his lap, while he whispers in your ear how well you do it, being such a good girl/boy for him, giving yourself to him like that, like you It's beautiful when your pussy tightens around his fingers, how perfect you are when you let your sweet saliva run down your lips like that, while he gives you all the pleasure, making you squirm on his arm full of veins and scars from the time he had, dirtying the papers and reports he signed, but he doesn't fight with you, no my sweet girl/boy, you are his, Miguel just applies a chaste kiss to your temple, salty with the sweat of sexual effort and the heat of lust from your body, while he just said everything was going to be okay.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who was worried when you didn't show up after a few days, so he left work early, seeing you at a local fair. He tried to talk to you, but you were disappointed in him, you had found out he was married, and you felt dirty for giving yourself to him. Miguel O'Hara froze immediately, but he soon recovered his posture, telling you in a serious and cold air that she didn't mean anything to him and you did, but you didn't want to listen, just saying how rubbish he was as a human being and leaving the room. running, hiding in the crowd, he didn't go after you, just walking away with a neutral and serious air, thinking about the next step he would take, and he knew exactly what it would be. He spent every day at your house, placing flowers, chocolates, teddy bears, gifts and books on your doorstep, even if you threw them in the trash, he bought more and more, even more expensive and extravagant. Miguel didn't leave you alone, going to your house every day, even trying to knock on the window, but you didn't pay attention to him, but he didn't care, he wasn't going to give up, he stopped the car every day after his shift from work to look at you,or look at the lighting in your house, where you were, what you were doing, and who you were with.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - That on your last day in the village, he left you a letter, in a red envelope, you didn't want to read it, but your curiosity got the better of you, with you finally reading the content of the man's letter.

My dear, (Y/N) This may sound strange, but I like it when you hide like a scared little bunny, running away from me like that, as if I were a predator? so I am offended my dear. Do you know how far I'm willing to go for you? Do you know exactly what things I can do to try? Do you know the dark thoughts I can carry out with your friends or family? If you gave in. We would be even more than perfect together, we were born to be each other's my love. Just as the sun rises day after day, just as the moon appears in the dead of night. Just as the stars shine in the black sky of the dark and cold night, void of voice. Just as birds spend their lungs in a melodious song, unable to be stopped by foolish men. Just like every natural phenomenon and incapable of being stopped, I will make you mine. just mine. You can try to scream, try to escape or even ignore me, like a mirror covered with a fine linen fabric, I'm still there, watching you, attentive to your smallest details, your flaws, your sins, your darkest, hidden fears. inside your mind, the intimate and core of your most secret suffering... I know everything, I know you more than you know yourself. We are destined to be one, drawn by a happy and unhappy destiny, a piece of the gods perhaps, who are we to question love? In fact, I'll ask you one more time, you love me, right? Just try to say you don't love me... Then I will destroy you... I k-

You didn't even finish reading the letter, hearing heavy footsteps coming from the back door, while you saw a tall figure standing in the dark shadow of the hallway, something dripping on the floor while those familiar and maddened brown eyes stared at you, deep in your soul, Miguel O'Hara.

"-And you know, (Y/N)... you shouldn't leave the door open."

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[sometimesanalice]

Hey, Sailor

Summary: It’s Fleet Week and Rooster would rather be anywhere else than on the flight deck of the USS Portland. That is, until a pretty thing in a sundress catches his eye and then suddenly his day is looking up. 

Pairing: Bradley”Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5.8K

Warnings: Flirty Banter, Smut, and Bradley Bradshaw in Summer Whites (Minors DNI)

Note: When @roosterforme​ asks you to write her a Fleet Week fic, you write the Fleet Week fic! Here you go, Em!  💛

Normally, Rooster loved Fleet Week.

He loved the lively atmosphere and the parades. He loved the free drinks that were handed to him as soon as he entered a bar. And he especially loved all the attention he got from women when he wore his Summer Whites.

He usually came back to the ship looking less than pristine with lipstick on the collar of his uniform and hidden on other places on his body.

The USS Portland was teaming with excited families and camera-happy civilians taking in the sights from deck of the transport ship as they settled in for the five-hour journey to the San Diego. It was a Fleet Week tradition to welcome people aboard for an immersive experience, picking them up from a port further up North and then cruising along the coast before making their final docking for the week.

There were grills set up on the deck and the smell of flame kissed hamburgers and hotdogs mixed with the sea salt air. The sun was shining and the mood was light.

But this year, Rooster simply could not be bothered to give a fuck.

Especially not when he could have been home already instead of being stuck giving tours on a ship that he’d never even stepped foot on prior to three days ago when he and Hangman had been given orders to join in the procession on the vessel into the city after completing a short training deployment.

His superiors had okay-ed the terrible suggestion from some random Public Relations Specialist who clearly didn’t realize that he had better things to do with his time.

Early that morning, Bradley had stood on the dock with his arms crossed and wearing an impassive scowl as they had lifted his Super Hornet onto the flight deck like it was some kind of decorative hood ornament.

Sure, it was fun to watch the kids’ eyes get wide with excitement as they ooh-ed and ahh-ed over the features as he pointed them out, but he was getting hot and uncomfortable in his uniform in the mid-afternoon sun on the black tarmac.

He’d rather be in his service khakis like Seresin. Or better yet, naked at home in his own bed.

How Hangman had weaseled himself onto barbecue duty with a beer in his hand, Rooster would never know. The bastard probably played his Texan sir, I came out of the womb grilling shtick.

And every time he passed by the son of a bitch would give him a cocky salute with his tongs.

Jake was irritating on the best day, but today he was downright insufferable.

And he knew it had everything to do with the fact that Hangman’s girlfriend was laughing and lingering at his side, having surprised him by flying in with tickets for the coastal cruise.

At least someone was having a nice time, because it sure as shit wasn’t him.

Rooster was in the process of wrapping up his fourth tour of the day and handing out a couple of Dixie Cup hats to kids on the landing deck on the stern when he was stopped dead in his tracks and had to do a double take because he eyes were definitely playing tricks on him.

You were the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

And he swore for a minute time slowed down as you flashed the most gorgeous smile at some Junior Officer as you laughed along with whatever undoubtedly stupid joke he’d told you. All while the wind played with the ends of your hair.

You looked like such nice girl, such a good girl in your pretty light blue sundress.

The sun was bouncing off your shoulders and the little ruffle at the hem was taunting him with the way it danced around your thighs. It coasted over your curves like water, and fit you just snug enough that there wouldn’t be any Marilyn Monroe moments on deck, much to his disappointment. But the blow was cushioned by the stunning display of your smooth, shapely legs.

From the way your breasts bounced as you walked, he knew there was no way in hell you had a bra on under that little dress.

He’s never been able to resist a bad girl wrapped up like the girl-next-door.

From the second he saw you, he knew you were just his type.

And for the first time that day Bradley is grateful to be wearing the crisp, pressed Summer Whites. 

He knew how good his biceps looked in the short sleeves of his uniform. And the way his pants clung to his legs and ass. He’d been spending a lot of his free time in the gym lately and it showed.

He never did mind playing An Officer and a Gentleman when the occasion presented itself, he was always happy to help fuel some fantasies.  

The last time he had worn this uniform out during Fleet Week he ended up going home with an absolute smokeshow, so hopefully whatever appeal his uniform had for him back then can still work for him now.

Fleet Week was finally looking up for him.

However, what he didn’t like was the fact that the butterbar was still dominating your attention.

He wanted that smile turned on him. Wanted to see if the look in your bright eyes would be just as playful with your gaze pinned on him instead. He wanted to be the one making you laugh.

It’s not like he’s going to go over there and lick your face like a kid might try and claim dibs on a cupcake.

No, he was going to act in accordance to his rank and station as an Officer in the United States Navy.

Securing the white cap on his head from where it’s been tucked under his arm at every opportunity he’s had that day, he straightens up to his full height and purposefully struts over to you.

Bradley’s never been one to shy away from making an entrance.

He forcefully taps the younger officer’s shoulder, and glances down when the guy turns around to get a look at his name tag.

“Ensign Hubbard, you’re up for civilian tour duties. The next one is due to start at 1400,” he looks down at his watch for dramatic effect, “Which is in about 10 minutes on the starboard bow, so you best get going if you don’t want to be late, junior.”

He might feel a little guilty for springing this on the kid if it wasn’t entirely within his right to assign him the nonexistent task 684 feet in the opposite direction- a fact he learned in preparation for giving tours all day- and away from you.

Especially when he sees how flustered the guy gets as he rushes through his salute and the stammered apologies he gives you before he takes off in a brisk jog heading towards the other side of the ship.

He stands up a bit taller and makes himself a bit broader as your eyes sweep over him. 

“Apologies for interrupting, ma’am. But I’d be happy to pick up where the Ensign has left off.”

There’s no missing the appraising interest in them as you take him in.

“The tours are starting at the front of the ship now, are they?” you muse out loud with a little tilt of your head. “What are all those folks over there are lining up for then, I wonder?”

You point deliberately to the group of people who are currently being greeted by the Lieutenant who was scheduled to relieve Rooster of tour duties for the next hour.

“Mm, that sure is a mystery. But Hubbard seems like a smart kid, I wouldn’t worry too much about him.” He shrugs with an unapologetic smirk on his face.

You lift a pointed eyebrow at him.

“So, you sent him away…” the almost-but-not-quite question trailing in the breeze.

“I sent him away,” he readily agrees with a nod. His eyes catch on a golden heart-shaped locket that you’re wearing around that dainty neck as it glints in the sunlight.

A smug smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you notice where his eyes have dropped too, “You’re not even going to deny it, Sailor?”

“Nope,” he says with a grin. “And actually, it’s Lieutenant Commander.”

“Ok, Lieutenant.”

“Commander.”

You hmm contemplatively like his rank was somehow up for debate, toying with that damn little heart-shaped locket in a way that was tempting his eyes to drift further down.

Rooster didn’t think it could be possible, but you’re even prettier up close. He knew you’d be stunning, but he couldn’t have prepared himself for the way your mischievous eyes sparkled magnetically. Or for the warmth spreading in his chest with the way you are broadly smiling at him now.

The top buttons of your dress are undone one more than would be strictly considered family friendly. But Bradley wasn’t bothered by that in the least.

 Clearing his throat, he notes, “It’s a nice day for a sail.”

“Ensign Hubbard and I already covered that rather riveting subject earlier,” you tease while looking at him like well, what else have you got.

“Let me try again then.” If you wanted him to put in the work, he was more than up for the challenge. “What brings you for a casual five-hour cruise down the coast on one of the Pacific Fleet’s finest?”

“Now that’s not something we got to before he was telling me about what his ribbons meant in great detail,” you say with a laugh. “Would you believe me if I said I had a deep appreciation for $1.6 billion-dollar ships purchased with Uncle Sam’s defense budget?”

He gives you a half smile as he pretends to contemplate it for a moment, “You know, for some reason, I can’t say that I would.”

“Well, shucks,” you say with an over exaggerated shrug. “What about if I said I was roped into waking up at an ungodly hour to catch a flight up here because my best friend’s boyfriend is a Naval aviator and she wanted me to keep her company for the ‘casual five-hour cruise’, as you called it.”

“Now that I believe,” he drawled. “So, what’s his name?”

“Well, she calls him Jacob. He has one of those silly callsigns too, but I always forget it,” you scrunch your nose adorably as you search for it, “Something-man.”

“You mean Bagman?”

“Yeah, that sounds right.”

He smirks to himself. 

“I take it you know him then?” You wait for his nod before looking up at him from under your lashes and asking him, “Does that mean you have a callsign too?”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s Rooster.”

He doesn’t miss the way you glance down, and he definitely doesn’t hold back his pointed smirk waiting for your eyes to meet his again.

And when he gives you a cocky raise of his eyebrow, all you do is shrug.

You didn’t just look like his type, you are exactly his type.

“Rooster Bradshaw, huh?” you ask, reaching out to tap a finger on rectangular name tag on his chest. “I take it you have a first name, Lieutenant Commander?”

“Sure do,” he drawls, “But it only seems fair that I get yours in return.”

You grin knowingly at him. His cheek ticks up as you stick your hand out towards him and give him your name. It’s pretty and suits you perfectly.

Bradley says it out loud savoring the syllables in his mouth as he shakes your outstretched hand. And he gives you his in exchange.

He likes how much smaller your hand looks in his.

“Since it seems like your friend has ditched you, what do you say about getting a tour? Not to brag, but I’ve been doing it all day and I’ve got it down to a science now.”

“A private tour? Lucky me,” you purr. “Lead the way Lieutenant Commander Bradley Rooster Bradshaw.”

You knew what you were doing, he’d give you that. And he was eating it up with a spoon ready to ask for second, third, and fourth helpings. 

It’s less busy on the flight deck, as people are collecting around the grills waiting for their turn in the buffet lines for the late lunch.

He starts off by showing you his aircraft, giving you a brief rundown of its features.

You run a hand over the body of his fighter jet as he wraps up his now well-practiced spiel, “Do I even want to know how much taxpayer money contributed to this?”

“It depends. Does your appreciation for Uncle Sam’s defense collection extend to F/A-18s too? Or is that strictly reserved for amphibious transport vessels?”

“I’ll keep you posted after I get the full tour,” you say coyly.

“Well then, I shouldn’t keep a lady waiting then. Should I?”

“No, you certainly should not,” you agree.

He guides you past the table that’s set up with squadron memorabilia for people to buy and to the door with a hand on your low back. He’s close enough to smell your perfume now, he wants to bury his nose in your neck to inhale the scent directly from the source.

Rooster navigates the two of you like a pro through the narrow passageways as he takes you to the mess hall where coffee and pre-sliced cakes awaited tour guests. From there he takes you to the galley, the wheelhouse, the engine control room, the 24-bed hospital ward, and the massive hull used to transport heavy machinery.

You as him thoughtful questions every now and then. And he does his best to answer them.  The two of you drift closer and closer, it doesn’t escape his notice the way you brush against him when you pass by to get a closer look at some of the things he shows you.

It’s easily his favorite tour of the day. 

He loves the sound of your laugh as he tells you about some of the mischief that he and members of his squadron managed to avoid getting caught doing.

Along with some of the things that they did get caught doing.

Your teasing grin and witty banter and little sundress have done a number on him. And he isn’t ready to wrap this up by delivering you back on deck until the absolute last minute he has to resume his official tour duties again.

So when he circles back to the airwing, instead of turning left when he should, he leads you to the ladder that would take you down a level.

And he knows he shouldn’t, that he could get in some big trouble for showing you areas that weren’t explicitly on the official list of tour stops. But he’s always been more of the apologize later type.

Plus, he hasn’t been on this ship for very long, it’s not his fault if he manages to get conveniently turned around.

Bradley waits at the bottom of the steep ladder, actively looking anywhere else but up as you make your descent. When you’re at level with him, he helps you down the rest of the way with a steadying hand at your waist.

And when you turn around he doesn’t step back. 

You reach up and run a playful finger along the brim of his cap, “So what’s a girl got to do to get a turn wearing the hat?”

His mind flashes with images of the last time he’d let a woman wear it.

“I’ll have you know this is technically Naval property, they don’t let just anyone have one. You usually have to earn it. But for you?” he pauses and gives you a heated once over, “I’ll let you try it on for free.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want any special treatment,” you say demurely. “But I think in this case, Uncle Sam would understand. I’m a model citizen after all.”

He takes the cap off of his head and gingerly sets it on yours, “You’re something else, that’s for sure.” 

It slides forward down your head, “Oh, it’s heavier than it looks.” And Rooster wishes he had his phone on him to get a picture for himself. He likes the way you look wearing his things.

“Looks good on you,” he hums, letting his finger brush against that little locket around your neck.

You run a bold hand down his chest, “Where to next, Lieutenant?”

This time he doesn’t bother to correct you, he knows the game you’re playing now. 

Instead he grips your hips and pushes you against the ladder and brings his mouth to yours.You make a noise of surprise before your arms are wrapping around his neck to pull him in closer. 

The kiss starts out light and teasing. Your lips are so soft beneath his. He gently grazes his teeth against your lower lip, before gliding his tongue along the seam of your mouth seeking entrance. The sweep of your tongue against his is everything. The soft moans escaping you are making his pulse thrum in his veins. 

It would be so easy for him to get lost in the feeling of your perfect body against his and of the way your fingers were playing with the short hairs on the nape of his neck. But he’s already pushing the limits bringing you down here, he can’t get distracted by kissing you out in the open where anyone could stumble upon the two of you.

The small whimper that you make when he pulls away makes him grin. As does the sight of his cap sitting crookedly on your head. 

He thumbs at the lipstick that’s smudged at the side of your mouth, “C’mon, I’ve got one more place I want to show you.”

This time he takes your hand as he guides you down the gray passageway and through the door on the left.

The ready room on the USS Portland is much smaller than the one’s he is familiar with from the aircraft carriers he is usually on, but the set-up is mostly the same. There are a couple of projection screens adhered on the bulkheads and there are a few rows of leather seats with a swivel tray tables attached to the arm rests.

“Tell me what happens in here.” You ask him so genuinely, so sweetly and he already knows he wouldn’t stand a chance against you with the way you flutter those eyelashes at him.

So he tells you. 

He likes that you want to know these details about his job, he likes that he gets to share this with you. Even if the clock is ticking down before he has to get back on deck.

Rooster watches the tantalizing way your sundress dances around your thighs as you walk around the space. You take a seat in one of the chairs in the front row and pull the desk top over you before turning to him with a beaming smile with his cap still perched on your head.

And he is hit with a wave of affection for you so intense that it makes it hard for him to breathe for a moment.

He’s grateful when you see something else that catches your eye, giving him a moment to get himself back under control. You’ve got him feeling like he should be on his knees for you.

In the spot where he is used to seeing a lectern, on this ship there is a glossy wooden table inlaid with the ship’s coat of arm that you standing over.

“Does every ship have their own unique crest? Do you know what the symbols are for?”

He really needs to figure out who put him on tour duty and send them an Edible Arrangement or something. And maybe one for whoever put together the ten-page packet of “fun facts” that he had rolled his eyes at when he had first seen it.

“Yes, ma’am, I sure do.” He comes up to stand behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder as his arms cage you in against the table. “Yes, all ships come with their own. It’s something that the prospective commanding officers are responsible for designing when new ships are about to be launched.”

You lean forward a bit, gazing your ass against him, “Dark blue and gold are traditional Navy colors, right?” He hums confirmation into your neck, as he runs his mustache along your soft skin. He feels more than hears your sharp inhale. “What does the gear on the anchor mean?”

He drops a kiss to your shoulder, “The cog is a symbol of manufacturing, a nod to the ship’s namesake and the city’s history for building ships in World War II.”

You grab his wrist and bring his arm across your body, he takes the hint and presses in closer into you. “And the trident?”

God, you feel so perfect in his arms. Your body is fitting against his like a dream.

“The black symbolizes determination,” he murmurs into the space where you neck and shoulder meet. “And the choice of the three prongs is because it’s the third ship to be given the name.”

You lean your head to the side, and he takes the opportunity to trail open-mouth kisses up your neck. Your nails bite into his forearm in response, as you rock back against his rapidly hardening cock. “And the rose?”

“Portland is the City of Roses.”

“Does it have any other meaning?” you ask soft and breathy.

“It represents strong ties, baby. It’s a symbol for the supportive partners and wives of those serving onboard,” he whispers low and sweet into your ear.

“Bradley,” you sigh as you turn your head towards him for a kiss. It’s desperate and wet. And he can almost taste the neediness of your moan on his tongue.

He’s never done anything like this while on duty on a ship before, and the thrill of it has his veins thrumming with adrenaline.

“You’ve had me hook, line and sinker since the damn second I saw you.” He grinds himself against your ass and you whimper at the contact. “What do you want from me? I’ll be so good to you, so good for you.”

“Want you to touch me,” you pant into his mouth, “Want you to fuck me, Rooster. It’s the only thing I’ve been able to think about.”

“Fuck me.” He can feel his pulse thundering in his throat.

“I’m trying to,” you whine.

He barks a strained laugh before he spins you around, crowds you into the table. He doesn’t waste any time getting his lips back on yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You meet him stroke for stroke, just like you’ve been doing since the moment he laid eyes on you.

“This fucking dress,” he groans when he cups your breast through your fabric, as you fill his palm in just the right way. You arch your chest into his hand, and he was feeling entirely too self-satisfied in the confirmation that you weren’t wearing a bra. “Knew you weren’t a good girl.”

“So why are you treating me like one?” you taunt, breathlessly. Your greedy hands go straight to his cock, squeezing him through his pants.

Your hand feels so good on him.

“God, you’re so much fucking trouble,” he rasps, throwing his head back.You lean forward and your hot mouth works against the hollow of his throat. 

He’s trying to undo some of the tiny buttons that line the front of your dress, but the teasing way your tongue is dipping out to trace the line of his tendon is making it hard for him to think.

“Are you gonna show me how you got that silly, little callsign of yours or not?” You give him one more squeeze, before bringing your hands up to the button of his white pants.

He knocks your hands out of the way before roughly grabbing your ass and hauls you firmly against him, “That feel little to you?”

Your gasp makes his fingertips dig further into your ass. The pretty color of your eyes has been completely eclipsed by your heavy, dark pupils. He can feel the way your thighs clench together.

“You want my attention? You’ve got it, baby,” he roughly rasps, “Go on then, show me how bad you can be.”

He dips his head down for a filthy, hungry kiss.

You push him back with a hand to his chest and a gleam in your eyes. You hold his heated gaze as you slowly undo his zipper and reach into his boxer briefs to pull him out. He moans when your thumb sweeps over the top of his cock.

Rooster thinks for a second that you’re going to drop to your knees for him, the mental image of you looking up at him with those doe-eyes is enough to make his jaw clench with desire. Especially with the way your sundress is gaping open at the top, giving him a clear view of the swells of your breasts.

Instead, you surprise him by bending over that glossy table and shimmying the skirt of your dress up over your luscious hips.

“Holy shit.”

You’re wearing the smallest, laciest little thong he’s ever fucking seen.

The band is a series of crisscrossed straps attached to some intricate and dainty floral lace. The juxtaposition of it against your skin is enough to make his ears ring. He’ll be dreaming of the way you’re enticingly arching your ass towards him for months.

And he’ll sure as shit never be able to be in a Ready Room again without getting a hard-on. The memory of you bent over the table before him will forever be ingrained in his brain.

“Is this bad enough for you, Lieutenant Commander?” You shoot him a grin over your shoulder as you wiggle your hips invitingly.

That sultry smile is swiped from your face the moment his large hand connects with your perfect ass. The sound echoes throughout the small room. He palms you once more before he yanks down your barely-there thong.

“Gonna fuck that attitude right out of you.”

Giving himself a few rough pumps, he lines himself up and slides into you with one steady thrust.

You both release an unrestrained groan of the sensation of him filling your warm, wet cunt. He barely gives you a moment to adjust to the size of him before he starts moving.

“’s big,” you sigh shakily.

“Tell me how much you like this cock.”

He slaps your pert ass again when you release a breathy whimper instead of answering him.

“Feels good, Rooster.” Your hands are struggling to find a way to support yourself as he fucks into you. “You feel so good.”

He pushes your dress higher up your body, his eyes are greedy for more of your skin. What he wouldn’t give to have you entirely naked and spread out before him. He wants to see all of you, he wants to hear you loud and needy for him.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he murmurs as he watches himself smoothly gliding in and out of you.

The little noises you are making are driving him crazy. He knows you’re trying to muffle your sweet moans and sighs and whines. The sound of your bodies coming together fills the room.

How his cap is still perched on your head he doesn’t know, it jostles every time your bodies come together.

“I need more,” you beg, “Need you to touch me.”

“Ask me nicely.” He punctuates the demand with a sharp snap of his hips.

“Please, Bradley. Please.”

He slides his hand around to the front of you, his fingers drawn to your clit like a magnet. You keen at the contact and tilt your hips into his hand. The sound is music to his ears, “That’s more like it.” 

He doesn’t think there’s anything else better on the planet than being buried in your perfect pussy. You’re so wet for him. He already knows he’s going to need more of this, more of you.

“You’re taking me so well,” Bradley grunts as he speeds up his thrusts, “Looks like all you needed was a nice, thick cock. Just a sweet thing now, aren’t you?”

“Oh my god,” you gasp as you writhe against him. “F-fuck.”

He is so turned on by the way his hands span across you as he grips your waist and pulls you against him with every roll of his hips. His heart is racing in his chest.

The feeling of your body tensing around him is paradise. There is nothing he wants more than to be able to draw this out, but he is all too aware of how quickly time is slipping away from him.

He sets a rough and unrelenting pace. Redoubling his efforts on your clit, his indulgent strokes turn into tight, purposeful circles. And you cry out at the change of sensation on that sensitive part of you.

Your thighs start to tremble as his cock drags against that spot deep inside of you. The heat is pooling in his lower back as he fucks into you over and over again.

“Rooster, I’m gonna-”

“I know, baby. Let me feel it,” he murmurs hotly against your ear, his thumb rubbing back and forth across your clit. “Come on my cock like a good girl.”

The goosebumps erupt across your body like fireworks a moment before he feels you shiver and tremble beneath him as you come with a choked sob. The way you spasm and clench around him is dizzying.

Bradley is teetering on the edge, your cunt felt like heaven. Warm and wet and gripping him just right. He almost doesn’t want to give himself up to it as the pressure at the base of his spine intensified. He doesn’t want to stop fucking you.

You’re so perfect for him.

He loses himself to the feeling of your pussy milking him as you continue to pulse and writhe in the aftershocks of your orgasm. He grips your hips harder as he pounds into you before emptying himself inside of you with a shattered groan.

And for a moment all he can hear is the blood rushing in his ears as he works to catch his breath. Rooster feels like his knees might buckle as the soft whimper you make when he pulls out of you.

He gently pulls that lacy little thong back up and helps to pull your dress back down over your hips and thighs before turning you around and lifting you onto the custom table. 

He doesn’t know how he is going to make it through the rest of the journey knowing his come is collecting in your panties.

You’re flushed and looking thoroughly well-fucked as you smile up at him brightly.

Bradley threads his finger under the chain of your little gold heart-shaped locket that was etched with a rose in full bloom, and lightly tugs you in closer for a lingering kiss.

“I see you found your gift early, baby.”

Bradley would never forget the first time he saw you that night at the bar downtown last year during Fleet Week.

He had noticed you right away, it had been impossible not to. You and your girlfriends had been all done up in hot pink outfits for the Bachelorette party you were out celebrating.

Your friend had flounced right up to Jake taking the shot of whiskey out of his hand before swallowing it down then cheekily offering to buy him a replacement. Hangman had been wrapped around her finger ever since.

While your friends had all but shoved you in his direction while he had looked on entirely entertained as you had shot a scathing glare back at them. A sparkling tiara that read Bridesmaid sat crookedly on your head.

And then you had greeted him with a “Hey, Sailor” so weak that the couldn’t help but let out an amused laugh. There was a split second where he thought that he might have fucked it up before it could even start, but then you smiled back at him.

It was a charmingly self-deprecating smile and he was yours from the moment he saw it.

“Hiding it in your nightstand next to the batteries wasn’t the most original of spots, Rooster,” you affectionately tease him. “I didn’t mean to peek, but the remote stopped working. I hope you’re not mad. I love it.”

He could never be mad at you, especially not with his necklace around your neck. You were his, and he was so gone for you.

“It looks so pretty on you,” he tells you softly as his fingers brush over your collarbones.

“Oh my god, Rooster, I can’t we defiled Naval property.” You giggle as you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer to circle your arms around his neck.

“I hate to break it to you, but you’ve been defiling Naval property ever since you brought me home with you the night we met.”

You take that cap off of your head and set it back on his, and lean in to kiss him on the cheek, “Glad I’m getting a good return on my taxes then.” 

He snorts a laugh, “God, I’ve missed you, baby. What are doing here? I thought you weren’t coming until the end of the week.”

“And miss the visual and culinary offerings of the USS Portland? I wouldn’t dream of it.” You joke as you run your hands along his arms where they’re pressed on the table on either side of you. “This uniform drives me just as crazy as it did last year.”

“Just the uniform?” he asks as he nudges his nose against yours.

“Maybe it has a little something to do with the man in the uniform,” you make a little hum as you check him out. “You’re so tan, Bradley, have you been using the sunscreen I sent with you-”

He crushes his mouth to yours, you were undoubtedly best thing that’s ever happened to him during Fleet Week.

“I’m glad I still do it for you,” he murmurs against your mouth before giving you another deep kiss.

The two of you work quickly to get yourselves looking presentable again. He’s only got a little time left before he is due to return to his tour duties back on deck.

He helps you back up the ladder and takes that left turn when he’s supposed to this time. All while your hand is tucked securely in his.

When you’re both back on the open flight deck he walks you over to the railing along the edge of the ship and wraps you up in his arms to watch the coastline crawl by with his last few moments of freedom. 

“I really love Fleet Week,” you say with a contented sigh, as you lean your head back against his shoulder.

The golden rays from the sun are hitting you in a way that makes his chest warm.

“I do too, baby. It’s the best.”

Yeah, Rooster fucking loves Fleet Week.

Who doesn’t love a man in Summer Whites?! Consider this my formal petition for more Dress Whites in TG3!

Thank you for reading!

Update! If you want to learn about the night they met, I wrote these two a little prequel series you can read here!

Hey, Sailor Moodboard

A peek inside the USS Portland One | Two

If you’re curious, here is some info on the crest I found! One | Two | Three

You can check out my other stories and series here!

Taglist:

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[ereardon]

Before I Knew [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter Eleven

A Jake Seresin unexpected pregnancy fic

Overview: On your first night after moving to San Diego to spend more time with your brother Bob, you unknowingly have a one night stand with his teammate Jake Seresin. For the first time in his whole life, Bob has a closely knit friend group and you’re desperate not to rock the boat. But an unexpected and unplanned pregnancy upends your world, forcing you and Jake closer together, against Bob’s wishes. What will happen when you find yourself actually falling for the father of your unborn child? 

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader; Bob Floyd x Sister!Reader 

Warnings: Pregnancy, cursing, eventual smut, angst

Chapter summary: Ducky deals with the fallout of Jake's bar kiss; Bob interrogates Jake and asks a big question

WC: 1.5K

Masterlist here; previous chapter here

You grabbed Natasha’s arm. “We have to go.” 

She frowned. “What’s going on?” 

You shook your head, trying not to alert anyone else. “I saw Jake in the hallway by the bathroom. Kissing some random girl.” 

Natasha’s brown eyes went hard. “I’ll kill him.” 

“Please, no,” you whispered. “Can I just stay at your place tonight?” 

“Of course.” 

“Also I’m going to piss my pants.” 

“Come with me.” She took your hand and led you out toward the back of the bar onto the deck. Your eyes automatically flocked to the place where you had stood the night you first met Jake. Instead, Nat pointed to the edge of the deck. “Pee on the sand.” 

You laughed. “You’re joking.” 

“It’s that or go back and risk seeing him again.” 

“I hate you,” you muttered, wobbling over to the edge of the deck and hiking up your dress, squatting down over the dunes. “This is a new low for me.” 

The door swung open and your mouth dropped in shock as Bradley barreled outside. “What’s going on?” 

“Oh my God!” you yelled, pee running down your leg. 

Bradley’s eyes went wide. “What the?” 

Natasha grabbed him and whirled him around until his back was to you. “Bradshaw, shut up. Y/N, finish your piss so we can get out of here.” 

“I hate my life,” you muttered. 

Bradley laughed. “So this is what girls do at bars? Pee outside.” 

“Only when Seresin is making out with random bitches by the bathroom,” Nat said. 

Bradley’s face pivoted into a frown. “What?” 

You stood up, stepping over the wet sand. “Let’s just not talk about it,” you whispered. “Can we go home now?” 

Natasha nodded. “Do you want to just leave?” 

“I need to say goodbye to Bobby or he’ll worry.” She nodded and you eased the side door open, shoving through the crowd to get to where Bob and Sena were sitting in the corner. “Bobby,” you whispered in his ear and he turned. “I’m not feeling great. Nat is going to take me home.” 

He frowned. “Do you want Jake to take you?” 

“I really don’t.” 

His eyes, ice blue, hardened. “What does that mean?” 

You sighed. “I just need to go home, it’s been a long night. I love you.” You leaned in and kissed his cheek then smiled at Sena and gave her a hug around the shoulders. “It was lovely meeting you.” 

“You too,” she said softly. The two of them watched as you walked out of the bar toward the front door. 

A moment later, Jake reappeared at the table. “Hey. Where did Y/N go?” 

Bob shook his head. “Home with Natasha.” 

“Why?” 

He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t know, Hangman. Why?” 

Jake gulped. 

***

Natasha’s apartment was girlier than you had expected. Pink pillows on the guest bed, monogrammed towels in the bathroom, a gold french press in the kitchen. 

In the morning, you wandered into the kitchen, wet hair hanging down your back. “I didn’t peg you for a gingham bedspread.” 

She grimaced. “My mother decorated. Can you tell?” 

“Just a little.” You looked around. “It’s very … pink.” 

She sighed and sat down on the bar stool next to you. “Don’t remind me. Listen, about last night.” 

You shook your head. “Going to pretend it didn’t happen.” 

“And what about when he brings that girl home?” 

“I told him he could date,” you whispered. “I told him that he should.” 

“Are you on drugs?” 

“Yes, I’m high as a kite while five months pregnant.” 

Natasha took a sip of coffee. “I’m not saying it’s great but you might have to be the adult here.” 

“He’s thirty years old,” you countered. “He knows what he’s doing and he knows what he wants.” 

“What that man wants is you.” You turned to her, mouth hanging. Natasha nodded. “I mean it. I see the way he looks at you. He wants you, despite what he might do or say.” 

“Only because he thinks he has to.” 

“Jake Seresin has never listened to a word of advice that he didn’t want to,” she replied. “If he wants you, it’s because he really does, not because he thinks it’s the right thing to do.” Nat paused. “The only question is, do you want him, too?” 

***

The doorbell rang. Jake rushed out of his room, no shirt, wet hair dripping onto his shoulders and frowned. You had a key. If it was you, and he hoped it was, you would have let yourself in. 

Which could only mean it was someone else. And he didn’t want to see anyone else. He thought about ignoring it when there was a knock. Hard. 

He flung the door open. “What?” 

Bob stepped inside. “Hangman.” 

Jake frowned. “Floyd.” He paused. “She’s not here.” 

“I know she isn't. That’s why I’m here.” 

Jake felt his heart speed up. You were leaving. A part of him had dreaded it from the first moment you stepped through the doorway of the new apartment. That you would decide to leave him before the baby arrived, or even after. That you would see he wasn’t fit to be a dad. 

Bob paced in a tight circle before training his eyes on Jake. “I know you and I, we have a history. We don’t even really like each other. But you’re having a baby with my sister. My only sister. And she means more to me than anything.” Bob paused. “She means more to me than my own life. So trust me when I say, there’s nothing you could do that’s worse than hurting her in any way.” 

“I’m not going to–”

“You already have.” Bob cut him off. “This cat and mouse game or whatever the two of you have going on? It stops today. She’s hurt and you’re hurt and you’re both fucking stupid.” 

“I don’t know what your deal is Floyd, but–”

“Do you love her?” 

Jake stopped in his tracks. His eyes lifted to meet Bob’s. The two men stood in the middle of the living room, squared off. 

And then the door opened, and you appeared with Natasha right behind you. You frowned. “Bobby? What are you doing here?” 

His eyes lingered on Jake before crossing the room and looping his arm over your shoulder. “Came to get you, Duck. Thought we could grab some lunch.” 

“Um, sure.” You looked at Jake who had a pale sheen to his skin. Like he was going to be sick. “I’m going to change real quick. Wait for me by the car?” 

Bob nodded and slipped through the door. But not before you saw the glance he shared with Natasha. “Y/N? I’m going to head out, too.” 

“Thanks for letting me stay,” you said softly and she smiled, filing out behind Bob. 

You closed the door to your room, emerging a few minutes later in a fresh dress, hair twisted up in a bun and a pair of sunglasses over your tired eyes. Jake sat on the couch, staring at his feet. 

You walked past him, grabbing your bag off the table where Natasha had placed it. As you opened the door, Jake’s voice floated across the room. 

“Are you coming back?”

It was quiet. Too quiet. Practically a thin whisper. You resisted the urge to turn around and look at him. 

“Yeah,” you said after a moment, one hand on the door handle. “But it would be great if you weren’t here when I did.” 

And with that, you pulled the door shut behind you, putting a wall up between you and Jake. 

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[greenorangevioletgrass]

fever pitch (b.b) - prologue

soundtrack: mastermind - taylor swift pairing: footballer!bradley x popstar!reader synopsis: Bradley shoots his shot in public, but will he fumble when he meets you in person? warnings: language, drinking, meet cute notes: my first series in a while! this is shamelessly based on the epic Taylor Swift/Travis Kelce saga currently happening rn, and combine that with my innate love of football (the kicking kind, not the NFL kind) and... voila! I hope you enjoy this. Let me know what you think in the comments, reblogs, and asks. Happy reading! <3 ✨I do not have a taglist. Please follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notification to get the latest update on my fics✨

Soccer Sensation Bradley Bradshaw Fails To Shoot His Shoot With Y/N At Her Concert?

Arsenal captain Bradley Bradshaw may be among his club’s top scorers this season, but even he misses a chance in romance like the rest of us.

The 29-year-old athlete spoke about his missed opportunity with the multi-platinum songstress Y/N while speaking to his former teammate Héctor Bellerín on the latter’s podcast, “More Than A Footballer”, earlier this week.

When asked about any fun stuff he did last weekend, Bradshaw replied,

“I went to the Y/N concert at Wembley [Stadium]... it was awesome. It was pouring rain, but it was amazing. I don’t remember Wembley ever being that electric aside from, like, cup finals. She was sensational.”

Bellerín nods in agreement, having heard great things about the famed singer-songwriter’s live concerts.

Unprompted, the American midfielder then continued,

“If you’ve heard about the tour, there’s this tradition of trading friendship bracelets. And I actually made one with my number on it, hoping I could give it to her after the show…”

The Cockney-raised Spaniard cackled in surprise and teased him, “But she didn’t wanna see you, bruv? [That is] legend!”

“No hard feelings!” Bradshaw raised his hands in defense over the Zoom call. “She needed to dry off and get warm. Gotta make sure she stays healthy, protect those vocal cords. But yeah, I was a bit bummed out about it.”

Bellerín laughed and jokingly addressed the camera, “Y/N, if you’re watching, give my boy a chance, will you?”

Mononymous pop sensation Y/N is hot off of her Kaleidoscope North American Tour, which wrapped in September. Her six-show run at Wembley Stadium this November officially kicks off the European leg of her sold-out tour. 

Will they be the next pop royalty and conquer the stadiums with their own crafts, or will this fizzle out as this week’s viral anecdote? The ball is in your court, Y/N.

Y/N’s representatives have not responded for comment.

***

Your Miu Miu heels click and clack against the ground. The pavement gleams after the rain and glistens under the streetlights. Everywhere you look, your eyes hurt. Down, and you worry about slipping into a puddle and falling on your ass. Forward, and a million camera flashes are ready to give you an aneurysm.

All in the name of reporting your night off of work, performing live in front of 90,000 people in a stadium.

In other words, all in a day’s work.

There’s a moment of reprieve, when the silvery white blitzes disappear into the dim tangerine lighting of the lobby. The flight down the stairs is so dark, you’re seeing green. It takes your eyes a moment to adjust, but as soon as they do, the thumping bass line of some dance music hits your ears. Clashing perfumes doused on the dancing, dressed-up bodies that you have to weave through.

You are seriously regretting your girl friends’ invite to a night out. You could’ve just had them over to your hotel, open a bunch of red wine, and you would’ve still had a blast. But no. You had to say yes to going to the Cuckoo Club with Lacey, Amara, and Jo.

And this evening is making you feel quite cuckoo.

There’s champagne at your booth and you’re much too eager to take a glass and start a toast. “Cheers, bitches!” you yell over the music, clinking your glass against theirs before downing the whole thing in one go.

It’s nowhere near enough.

There’s not enough buzz to dull the assault to your senses—not even after the three glasses of wine at dinner earlier. Everything is still too loud, too bright, too crowded, too… much.

“Hey!” you nudge Amara, who is sitting right next to you. “Let’s do shots!”

She turns to you, eyes widening at the slightest. “I thought you wanted to take it easy tonight!” 

“Changed my mind,” you shrug, as you get up to the bar.

While you make your way through the crowd on the dance floor, Bradley Bradshaw looks up from his booth and does a double-take at the girl who just walked by. Even in a high-end club full of the well-dressed and well-heeled, people still get starstruck. And why wouldn’t they? You’re about as famous as an iPhone. 

His eyes widen and immediately whips out his phone to shoot a text to his oldest and most trusted friend Natasha Trace.

‘Dude, I’m in the club and Y/N just walked in. What do I do??’

Natasha thankfully texts back almost immediately. Then again, maybe being a Communications Director for a major company requires her to be a good texter. ‘Wdym what do you do? Just go talk to her.’

‘You were supposed to introduce us!’ Bradley replies, eyes darting between his phone and you at the bar, conflicted.

Natasha is a mutual friend of yours, too, and when the Bracelet-gate clip went viral, she laughed in his face for a full 5 minutes before deciding to set the two of you up. But the schedule never really aligned, so he hasn’t got a chance to see you. Not even after he went to your concert with a friendship bracelet and a dream.

And now, seeing you here in the same room at the same time as him…

‘What do you want me to do, get down there and do it for you?’

‘...Can you?’

He senses the judgment even as the three dots appear on his screen. 

‘Stop being a pussy, Bradshaw. Let me Netflix and chill with my gf in peace.’

Bradley scoffs, half-annoyed and half-fond. ‘Asshole. Have fun.’

The dance floor clears up, just enough to see that you’re right there. Leaning against the bar in your dress like a dirty daydream, talking to the bartender, and he couldn’t just let you go without a word. He thought about it, and he simply couldn’t.

“Oi, where are you off to?” His teammate Martin hollers, while the others watch him make his way to the bar in determined strides.

He squeezes past patrons across this jungle of a club, hoping to God that somebody hasn’t beaten him to talk to you yet, or you haven’t ducked out completely. Oh fuck. You’re still there, though. Good. You’re still at the bar, still glimmering under the mirrorball. Just a tap on the shoulder away. You can do it, Bradshaw…

“Excuse me, I—”

You feel the hand on your shoulder just as you turn and stand up, and in a flurry of miscoordination, looks up just as the other person moves in.

In a stroke of dumb luck, Bradley feels the top of your head slamming up against his nose and he groans in pain. “Ohh!”

“Shit! Oh my God…” you gasp, reaching out to the man in front of you. He’s tall, very tall, and you can’t quite see his face with his massive hand clutching his nose. “I’m so sorry…”

“No, it’s okay. My bad…” It really doesn’t seem like it, so he lets go of his nose and smiles sheepishly. Gosh, he must’ve looked stupid right now.

But you see it differently. What you see is a dashing man in a sleek tieless navy suit and a well-groomed mustache, straight out of a Cinemascope flick, ever so handsome despite his reddened nose from the way you just accidentally headbutted him. “No, that was totally mine. Are you okay?”

Your eyes are crystal clear even in the dim light, the concern is palpable in your gaze—and rightly so. It’s just that he’d take the headbutt any day, if it means he can look at your beautiful face. “I’m… I’m swell. Y/N, right?”

There’s a shift in your gaze. First, alert—you’re assessing how much of a potential threat this person is, whether they’re gonna be weird about you— and then it relaxes. Not a threat. Then a slightest hint of mischief, like she wants to know what kind of dynamics they would have. “Have we met?”

And boy, can he.

“We haven’t, actually. But I went to your show at Wembley earlier this week. You were amazing.” He offers a handshake. “Bradley Bradshaw.”

You didn’t quite catch his name over the blaring music, although you shake his hand anyway. “Sorry?” 

He leans into your ear, “I’m Bradley Bradshaw.”

You don’t know which one makes your heart skip, the sudden close proximity, the warmth of his timbre, or the whiff of his perfume.

“Right. Nice to meet you, Bradley Bradshaw.” You accept his handshake, hoping he doesn’t see how flustered you are in the strobing purple light.

“Likewise.” He nods with a smile. “And may I just say… you look stunning.”

“What, this old thing?” You brush down the art nouveau-inspired Balmain dress on your body. You’re just being modest, of course; you know you’re dressed to the nines. You have never been much into facial hair, but somehow that mustache suits him very well. “You don’t look so bad yourself. You remind me of a… young Robert Mitchum. Or Paul Newman— or one of those Golden Age leading men.”

His face lights up. It’s hardly the first time he received that kind of compliment, but when it came from you, it feels… different. It feels special. It makes him just a little bolder. “Yeah? Maybe after a few drinks, I’ll be quoting lines from Butch Cassidy. Or would you prefer Cat On A Hot Tin Roof?”

This piques your interest. A man of culture, it seems. But of course, you can’t be too sure. “I’m more of a Paris Blues kinda gal, I’m afraid.”

Gosh, you don’t swoon so easily and he likes you so much for that. “Makes sense.”

“How so?”

“It’s a good underrated musical movie, for the musically gifted… And Sidney Poitier was just fantastic in that.”

“Huh.” You raise your eyebrows. You honestly thought he was just spouting the famous titles. But the fact that he has likely seen this hidden gem might just mean he’s really into it. “Aren’t you full of surprises.”

He leans in to speak in your ear yet again. “If you stick with me for a bit, I might show you another surprise or two.”

The music drowns out your racing heart just barely, and the bartender places a whole set of tequila shots on the bar top, and it snaps you out of your reverie for a moment. 

“Wanna get some air?”

He seems surprised, but of course he wasn’t gonna throw away this shot. “Sure. Why not?”

You instruct the bartender to send the shots to your booth, not even spending ten seconds to ponder staying in this deafening hell hole. Not when this man looks like peace. Perhaps an undercurrent of mystery underneath, but his whole demeanor is as calm and comforting as those old-school movies you put on to fall asleep. At the same time, something about this person pulls you in, it’s almost magnetic, and you can’t help wanting to see this through.

[criesinliess]

━APRIL 2023; susan's recs

FATE: THE WINX SAGA

━━RIVEN

i’m jealous of the way @imkylotrash

hold my girl @↑

call me back @randomimaginesforrandompeople

scared to death @↑

little sister @↑

one-on-one @novawrts

HARRY POTTER

━━GEORGE WEASLEY

it takes two @ickle-ronniekins

━━ DRACO MALFOY

just friends — masterlist @bwbatta

━━FRED WEASLEY

selfish @george-fabian-weasley

━━OLIVER WOOD

blind to it @heloisedaphnebrightmore

MARAUDERS ERA

━━SIRIUS BLACK

all your fault @heloisedaphnebrightmore

absurd ideas @↑

crimes of jealousy @↑

gentle seduction @↑

cause i don't want you like a best friend @evermoreal

━━JAMES POTTER

five times james wanted to kiss you and the one time he did @moonlitmeeks

hey, james! @heloisedaphnebrightmore

LOCKWOOD & CO

━━ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

knight in shining armour @givemea-dam-break

the poltergeist @↑

jealousy @↑

how to dance @↑

hidden by the new stars @↑

stunning @vi-trying-to-survive

you can hear it in the silence @tangledinlove

just another love song @↑

pretty boy @maraschinomerry

GRISHAVERSE

━━KAZ BREKKER

he just sounds like that @amsgrey

of antidotes @honeyfict

dense @↑

love language @genyakosstyk

dive into the waves below @↑

of kings @yelenasbraid

everything @theowritesstuff

deathly fever @webslinger-holland

another dream @↑

take it slow @amsgrey

━━NIKOLAI LANTSOV

yours no more @theowritesstuff

wanting was enough @genyakosstyk

OUTER BANKS

━━RAFE CAMERON

dating john b's sister @a-aexotic

midsummers @butgilinsky

blueberry pancakes @↑

tension @↑

and isn't it just so pretty to think? @folkloreslovechild

heartbroke bitch; guess you really did it this time; kiss for kiss, heart for heart; a crack in the glass @fandomxpreferences

dirty litte secret @↑

passenger princess @sunraies

cupcakes and rainstorms @↑

fair play @laiiaaa

dancing with our hands tied @forevermoreharrington

━━JJ MAYBANK

hot for a pogue @butgilinsky

the last year @↑

the part where you kiss me @laiiaaa

THE BEAR

━━CARMY BERZATTO

sink in @nymphlamp

TOP GUN: MAVERICK

━━BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW

delirium @kyber-crystal

head in the clouds @↑

MARVEL

━━BUCKY BARNES

the last first kiss @witchywithwhiskey

almost believing @intrepidacious

insomnia @↑

first date, last night @↑

not even a little @↑

heal me, baby @↑

━━STEVE ROGERS

moving on @intrepidacious

━━LOKI LAUFEYSON

clouded judgement @heloisedaphnebrightmore

silly misgardian @↑

SCHOOL SPIRITS

━━WALLY CLARK

hopes and fears @general-fanfiction

i want to help @anthemabby

STRANGER THINGS

━━STEVE HARRINGTON

love her too @divine17

[roosterforme]

Batting Practice Part 25 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Now that Bradley had the ring, he didn't want to wait. He kept thinking about what it would mean to move in with you and Everett and be a family. He wanted all of it. So he got Everett to help him out one last time. 

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst and swearing

Length: 4800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

You locked your office door and sank down into your seat. You were too nervous to eat the lunch you packed for yourself as you got your phone out to call your lawyer. It had taken you a few days, but you decided what you wanted to do about Danny. It wasn't ideal, but you'd do it. 

As you sat and listened to the hold music playing in your ear, you poked at your sad looking salad. Danny was going to blow up at you after this. And it would be months and months before you saw a cent, but you supposed it was the best you could get since you couldn't get Danny stripped of parental rights. Tears pricked at your eyes, because you just wanted him gone. Good and truly gone with no ability to come back and hurt Everett again.

When your lawyer returned to the line, you told him that you wanted to move forward with serving papers to Danny to petition for child support. If you couldn't get rid of Danny, at least you could pad Ev's college account or help him buy a car someday. 

"You do understand that Daniel can take four months to contest the petition? And that's on top of the time it may take to serve him the papers?"

You rested your forehead on your desk and took a deep breath. At least you would be the one dealing all of this shit behind the scenes so Ev wouldn't have to know about it. But Bradley was always imploring you to be more open with him about this, so you'd have to figure out how to tell him that Danny was here to stay. Unless you and Bradley ever got married. Unless Bradley ever wanted to petition to adopt Everett. 

"Yes," you said, your voice only a harsh whisper. "I understand. We can proceed." 

As your melancholy settled in, you decided to text Molly about what you did. It didn't take long for your sister to respond. She must not have been working right now. You never could manage to keep track of her schedule, so you had no idea how Bob was so efficient with it. 

Danny is a little baby cocksucker bitch! Bleed him dry! Do it for Ev! I'll help you take over the world after I have a nap.

You snorted, pleased that not a moment had passed since your parents died when Molly was not one hundred percent on your team. And now you had Bradley. And you supposed you had Bob, too. 

A sharp knock on your office door had you jumping in your seat. "Coming," you called, scrambling to go unlock the door only to find Bradley standing there in his khaki uniform with a bunch of tulips and a wrapped sandwich. His aviators were perched on the tip of his nose, and he looked like a fantasy. You could see three of the receptionists leaning out of their cubicles to get a better look at him.

"Kitten," he whispered with a grin before kissing your cheek. When you silently pushed your door open wider, he brushed past you, and you closed it behind him. 

"What are you doing here?" you asked breathlessly. He set the food and the flowers down on your desk, and you rushed into his arms.

"I just missed you," he whispered in your ear. "And it's Tuesday. Technically the slowest day of the week. I needed a pick-me-up." And with that, he scooped you up into his arms while you gasped, and he deposited you on the edge of your desk.

"Well, I'm glad you're here," you told him, reaching out to pull him closer. He tossed his sunglasses onto your desk, and then you couldn't even remember what you wanted to tell him. Something about your lawyer? His hands were on your bare knees, sliding up under your black skirt.

"You know I love this," he whispered, pushing your skirt up your bare thighs. "I like to daydream about this skirt. On your bedroom floor. Or all bunched up around your waist."

You coaxed his lips down to yours with your finger under his chin and kissed him softly. "I have some free time right now."

Instantly, he was lifting your butt up off of your desk and yanking your skirt up over your hips and around your waist. You squealed with delight as he set you back down and smiled as he knelt in front of you. "Really?" he asked, nudging your inner thigh with his nose and kissing you there. 

"Yes," you giggled as he looked up at you. When you spread your legs wide for him, he kissed your core through your underwear, and you gasped, "Go lock my door, Coach."

He dipped his long index finger inside the lace fabric and nudged your clit with his knuckle. "Where's the fun in that?"

You moaned, and then you were shimmying your underwear down your legs. Bradley tucked them into pocket, and you couldn't believe you were letting him do this with the door unlocked. But the prickle of his mustache along your slit had you grabbing at the back of his head and spreading open further for him. 

He licked a long stripe from your opening up to nibble on your clit, and you dug your fingers into his hair. "That's a good Kitten," he rasped, kissing along your pussy and thighs as he slipped his index finger inside you. Just a few strokes and you were whining for him, your thighs clamping around his head. But he pushed them apart again and kept them in place with his other, huge hand.

"Bradley," you gasped, and he pulled you a little closer to the edge as he sucked on your clit. "Oh god." 

He released you and licked a circle that had you tugging on his hair. "Wanna make sure you think about me when you're at work, Baby," he grunted before rubbing his mustache through your wetness until you were getting a little loud. 

"Bradley!" you whined. He was good. You leaned back on one hand as he made your legs shake. And when he looked up at you as he circled your clit lazily with his tongue, you knew you were getting close. "Keep going," you told him, rocking against his face a little bit. 

The sight of him buried between your legs with your fingers messing up his hair took you all the way. Because when he wrapped his lips around your clit one more time, you came for him. Loud and needy. And then you slowly sat fully upright again while your ears buzzed. He was still placing soft kisses on you everywhere that used to be covered by your underwear. 

"I love you, Kitten," he whispered as he squeezed your thighs and stood up to kiss you. His mustache was wet, and you licked him while you moaned softly. His whole face tasted like you as you licked and kissed him. It was intoxicating, and you pulled him closer so the front of his uniform pants rubbed against your pussy. He was rock hard.

"You wanna?" you asked him as he stroked his fingers along your cheek. 

"Fuck, you know I do," he promised, rubbing his mustache down your neck. "But I need to get back to work."

You bit your lip and watched him reluctantly pull away from you and adjust himself. There was a little wet spot on his pants that absolutely thrilled you as you asked, "Where's my underwear?"

His smile was smug. "In my pocket. I'm gonna hang them in my locker at work like a little souvenir."

You gasped, your pussy still bare for him with your skirt hiked up. An embarrassingly needy little sound escaped you as he patted his right pocket. 

"I hope you don't mind if the guys see them."

You pressed your lips together. You actually really liked that underwear. They were a stretchy white lace thong that you found comfortable. But if Bradley wanted to put them in his locker and think of you every time he hit the shower, then you were more than happy to let him have them.

"I don't mind," you whispered. "But you know you're going to make Bob blush, right?"

Bradley kissed your forehead and said, "Molly has broken him in, I think. He doesn't blush as much as he used to. Now, don't forget, we have plans for the Fourth of July. And I'll see you at your house later tonight after my practice."

You nodded and watched him leave as you stood up and pulled your skirt down. "Love you, Kitten," he called from your open door with his erection still visible in his pants before he strolled away.

You looked at the sandwich he left for you as your stomach growled. Your appetite was back again since talking to your lawyer, so you sat and ate it while you smiled at the spot on your desk where you just had an orgasm. 

As soon as you pulled up the spreadsheet you had been working on, your phone vibrated on your desk next to the tulips he left for you. He sent you a photo of your white lace thong hanging up in his locker. 

Bradley Bradshaw: I wasn't joking. I'm looking forward to getting lots of compliments on my new decoration.

You squeezed your thighs together and squealed. 

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

Bradley had to rush back to base. When he stopped by the locker room to drop off his keys and wallet, he pulled your underwear out of his pocket. They were a little damp, and when he pressed them to his nose, your scent overwhelmed him. He should have fucking stayed long enough to bury his cock and his cum inside you. What was he thinking? A reprimand from one of the admirals would have been worth it. 

With a deep sigh, he hung his pretty souvenir on one of the hooks and snapped a photo. He sent it to you as he literally ran outside and across the tarmac to the meeting room for his afternoon session. He had your underwear in his locker and your engagement ring in his kitchen drawer. 

He had big plans for that ring. There were just a few things he needed to prepare, and he couldn't stop smiling as he thought about what he and Everett were planning. He could talk that kid into anything over some McDonald's chicken nuggets. 

But he had to keep his thoughts from wandering too much to you and Ev while Mav was lecturing. Because every time he thought about marrying you, he thought about being Ev's dad. And he really needed to not get too far ahead of himself, because he had no idea if you'd support that idea or not. Bradley got the impression that you wanted sole guardianship and legal rights to your son. And honestly, Bradley could also get behind that. One hundred percent. 

When the lecture ended, Bob was waving his hand in front of Bradley's face. "You ready to head to practice?" he asked cautiously. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," Bradley grunted, jumping out of his seat. Today was the first practice for the rec league team, and Everett had bugged nonstop to come and watch. But Bradley wanted to get one good practice in with nobody there, just in case he ended up being terrible. 

He walked with Bob back to the locker room to change into the navy blue hat and jersey with the number 1 on the back, deciding to skip the shower until later tonight. When he was changing his socks, he saw Bob's eyes wander to his locker, and then he quickly looked away. 

"Nice panties," Jake said as he strolled past on his way to the showers. 

"Thanks," Bradley replied, smirking, because he just knew this was going to get you all flustered when he told you later tonight. 

He drove to practice, and thought about his plan for the Fourth of July. It would be perfect, and somehow, he wasn't even nervous. Because being with you felt right. 

And then he pitched so well, both coaches pulled him aside after practice to tell him he's the best they had ever seen on a recreational team. And Bradley just had to laugh, because he was pretty sure he was still better at playing shortstop. 

"Damn," Bob said in between gulps of his Gatorade. "Your arm is a cannon. I barely managed to hit that single."

"Thanks," Bradley said, rapidly throwing everything into his bag, just wanting to get to your house. And then he paused and really looked at Bob. "Holy shit," he mumbled as Bob adjusted his glasses and checked his phone with a smile. Molly must have texted him. Bob was deeply in love with Molly. Bob might perhaps be Bradley's brother-in-law one day. 

"See you tomorrow," Bob told him with a nod as he hoisted his gear bag up onto his shoulder. And as he walked to the Bronco, Bradley hoped that Everett would be lucky enough to have Bob as his uncle. 

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

It was late when Bradley got to your house. Everett was already in bed, and you were cleaning up the kitchen and starting to pack lunches for the morning. One more day of work this week, and then you and Everett were both off for Independence Day. And Bradley had invited you to Maverick's hangar for a party and fireworks. 

Of course Everett couldn't wait. But that child idolized Bradley. 

You heard his key in your front door, and your heart skipped around in your chest. "Hi, Kitten," Bradley whispered, dropping his stuff off next to the stairs. "Is Ev sleeping?" he asked, kissing you softly. 

"Probably. I got him in bed about twenty minutes ago."

"I'm gonna go up and check on him," Bradley replied, quietly taking the stairs two at a time. God, you couldn't handle it. Tears filled your eyes. He loved you both, and you wanted him to move in with you in the worst way. But you were just going to have to wait. It would be worth waiting. 

You could hear him come back downstairs a moment later with a little frown. "He was already asleep."

You threw your arms around his waist and squeezed him. "You can make him pancakes and drop him off at summer camp tomorrow. If you want to."

"Of course I want to," Bradley murmured against your hair. "I love your son."

You rubbed your cheek against his soft undershirt and melted into his embrace. "He loves you, too. And if you don't let him come watch you pitch next time, he might cry."

"Fuck. No," he groaned. "You know I can't stand the sight of him in tears. Almost rips my fucking heart out."

You laughed softly. "Guess we'll just have to come to your first game. Now, do you want a bedtime snack while you tell me about practice?"

"I sure do," he mumbled, backing you up against the kitchen island. "Let me finish you off? I had you for lunch, and now you can be my snack."

"Okay," you told him, pushing him away a few inches. He looked at you with wide, curious eyes. "Usually I don't allow food in my bed, but if I'm the snack then I suppose it's fine."

Bradley's eyes narrowed as he scooped you up and carried you upstairs. You had to stifle your laughter so you didn't wake Everett up. When Bradley dropped you onto your bed and climbed on top of you, he took your hands in his and kissed along your neck. 

"Can we talk about the holiday for a minute?" he asked, and you rolled your eyes a little bit. He'd been asking incessantly about taking you to Maverick's and making sure you didn't have anything else planned for the day. 

"Yes, Bradley. But I already told you, Ev and I are free the whole day."

"I wanna take you to the park in the morning," he whispered, his mustache tickling your ear as you enjoyed his delicious body weight. "I want you to see how good Ev is when I pitch to him."

You smiled and wrapped your legs around his hips. "Sounds perfect."

"And then we can head to the party at the hangar. Maverick is setting up a splash pad for the kids," he said, pressing his lips to yours with a grin. 

"Are you going in it?" you asked. "You're an overgrown kid."

"Only if you do," he said as you rolled your hips against his. "You should wear that leopard print bathing suit you have."

You gasped and giggled. "The one I wore to the tee ball pool party? At the beginning of the season? When we had our first real kiss?"

"Hell yes," he hissed. "Couldn't stay away from you, Kitten. I was already in love with you."

You kissed him and held him tight. You couldn't pinpoint the moment you fell in love with him, but you knew you'd never be able to stop now.

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

Wednesday ended up being a rainy day, and everyone in the entire city seemed confused by it. Even Everett was out of sorts when you picked him up from summer camp. 

"Is Bradley going to come over and play with us tonight?" he asked, staring out the car window as you drove him through the storm. "I wanted him to take me to the park."

He kept pouting as you told him, "He needed to get some stuff done at his apartment tonight." You wished he could wrap up whatever he needed to do early and come watch a movie instead. But he told you it was important. 

"Well can we go over to his apartment?" Ev whined.

It struck you that you'd never once been there. And now you wondered if it looked the way you imagined it. Bradley told you a million times how much cozier your house was than his place, and you just shook your head. Because he could have moved in if he wanted to.

"Not tonight, Ev."

He was silent for the rest of the ride home, plainly annoyed with you for keeping him from Bradley. And then he was pretty quiet as you watched Finding Nemo together for the millionth time. But when you reminded him that tomorrow, if the weather was nice, all three of you were going to the park and then Maverick's party, he perked up.

"Bradley is really excited about the park tomorrow!" Everett said as he climbed into bed. "He's excited to show you something."

"Oh yeah?" you asked, tucking him in while the soft rain hit his window. "What does he want to show me?"

Everett laughed and rolled onto his side. "I can't tell you."

You sighed and kissed his cheek. It was probably something silly or something baseball related. "Well I guess I'll just have to wait then." But he was already starting to doze off, holding onto the stuffed Phanatic.

You were a true San Diegan. All the rain was making you tired. You thrived on sunny days and warm weather. When you went to plug your phone in before bed, you saw a text from Bradley. 

Bradley Bradshaw: I can't wait to pick you up in the morning. Give Ev an extra bedtime kiss for me?

You had to laugh, because he seemed to have no concept of what a consistent bedtime for Everett was. You could already tell that if Bradley ever moved in, he and Ev would be outside playing until well after dark all the time, and you'd be the one reeling them in. 

When you fell asleep, you slept hard. And you woke up to Everett in your room, climbing up into bed with you. "Mommy, I'm hungry." 

It was pretty late, and Bradley was coming over to pick you up for the park, but at least the sun was shining today. 

You stretched and pulled your son into a tight hug. "Cereal or eggs?" you asked as he snuggled up with you. 

"Cereal," he mumbled, his voice muffled by the blankets. "Are you going to get up and put on makeup and a dress and stuff?"

You laughed and said, "We're just going to the park and then a splash pad party in the desert, Ev. I wasn't planning on getting too dressed up today. Why?"

"You should," he said, wiggling out of bed and running out of your room. 

"Okay," you muttered to nobody. And a little while later, you were sipping coffee and eating cereal in your kitchen, still not dressed for the day when Bradley arrived. 

"Why do you look so nice?" you asked when he let himself inside. He was wearing a snug fitting red and white golf shirt and chino shorts. 

"Do I?" he asked, glancing down at himself as he went right to Ev and kissed his forehead. And you didn't even mind that you always got greeted second. Because when you got your kiss, it was on the lips and had your knees going weak.

"Hi," he whispered as you threaded your fingers through his hair. "I missed you last night."

How on earth did he make you this silly? Your heart was beating faster and your skin felt extra sensitive as he ran his big hand down your arm. 

"I missed you, too."

Then he pulled away and looked you up and down. "Why aren't you dressed yet? We have a busy day, Kitten." And you finally went back upstairs to get changed as both of them pushed you out of the kitchen. You could hear them talking softly and laughing as you climbed the stairs. 

When you came back down in some denim shorts with a white tank and a sheer white blouse, Bradley smiled at you before leading both of you out to the Bronco. Everett had his gear bag, and when Bradley opened the back tailgate, you saw all of his stuff there too.

"You brought a whole bucket of balls?" you asked, pointing to the bucket tucked behind his bag. "Are you going to make me play catcher for you guys again?"

"Yep," they replied in unison, making you laugh. 

"Okay, but you know I'm not very good."

"You're stellar, Kitten. Aces, Baby," Bradley promised as he scooped Everett up and carried him around to his booster seat.

You tended to disagree, but if the two of them really wanted to play ball in the park all day, then you would just chase balls around and cheer them on. The ride to the park was filled with Everett asking Bradley questions, something your son never seemed to tire of. And as always, Bradley answered every single one of them the best he could without getting irritated at all. 

At a red light, you reached for his hand and said, "I love you." He responded by stroking your fingers with his thumb as he hummed along to the radio. And soon you were at the park and unloading everything. You watched as the boys both put on their matching Phillies hats and took sips out of a bottle of Gatorade. They had a little routine now, and it melted your heart. 

"Ready?" Bradley asked Everett and then you. 

"Ready," you replied, carrying the bucket of baseballs for them. You followed them to the same shady area where you had played catcher before. The sun was strong today, but at least it wasn't too hot yet. Being in the shade would help with that.

"Ev, start stretching while I get your mom all set up," Bradley said, reaching into his bag and pulling out his catcher's mask and mitt. 

"Hey," you said with a smile. "I remembered it's a mitt and not a glove!" you said, and Bradley pulled you tight to him for a kiss.

He hummed against your lips as he ran his empty hand down your back to squeeze your butt. "It's going to be important that you know these things, because Ev and I are going to be on this baseball shit forever now. We're about to get annoying as hell, Kitten."

"I don't mind," you said, looking up into his brown eyes that were always so sincere. "Please, annoy the shit out of me forever."

The smile that took over his face had you giggling while Everett ran around you in circles doing his own definition of warming up. Then Bradley mumbled, "Gotta keep this pretty face safe," while he fitted the catcher's mask around the back of your head. He slipped the too large mitt on your hand and kissed your neck. "All set now."

"Can we do it yet?" Ev asked, slowing his run down and picking up his bat. "Please?"

"Yeah, kiddo," Bradley replied, turning both of their hats backwards. "We can do it."

You eased yourself down into the uncomfortable position to catch the baseballs for them. But Everett was hitting most of them, which made your job kind of pointless. Bradley was telling Ev what each pitch was going to be before he threw it.

"Here comes a slider," he called out, and you watched your boyfriend's muscles tense up deliciously before he threw a pitch right to Everett. Your son hit it up in the air and Bradley caught it. "Pretty good! Let's try another slider." Then he threw the same pitch again, and Everett hit it over Bradley's head.

"I can't believe you're this good, Ev," you praised, because truly you could not. It was impressive the way he hit Bradley's fastball and curveball as well. You knew Bradley wasn't pitching hard or fast, but he was still pitching to Everett. And your seven year old son was hitting almost all of them. 

"Okay, kiddo," Bradley called out. "This one is the special pitch I've been working on. Are you ready for it?"

"Ready, Coach!" Everett called out in excitement. He turned and looked at you with a smile before he returned to his batting stance, and you made sure you were all set, too. 

You weren't sure what kind of pitch was a special pitch, and Bradley was really taking his time getting ready to throw it. He kept shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He looked a little nervous, but you didn't know why. It wasn't like you and Ev were going to tell him he did a bad job of throwing a new pitch he was working on. Honestly, you were excited to see it. 

When he finally took a deep breath, he met your eyes before winding up to throw it. The ball sailed right to your mitt, and you caught it cleanly. Everett didn't swing at it, and now he was looking at you with his bat hanging down at his side. When you looked up at Bradley, he was staring at you. Then you noticed that the ball was more red than white as you dumped it out of the mitt and into your empty hand. 

"What is this?" you mumbled, turning it around in your hand. It was covered in little red hearts that looked like they had been drawn on with a sharpie, and there was something written in Bradley's handwriting.

Will you marry me?

You gasped and looked up at Bradley, but now he was down on one knee with his glove on the grass next to him. Everett was bouncing around next to you as you read the ball again. "Mommy?" he asked quietly, and you looked up at his eager face. 

Heart racing, you stood up and shook the mitt off your hand as you looked toward Bradley. You yanked the mask off your head as you ran toward him shouting, "Are you serious?"

His smile looked a little unsure as you tackled him onto the grass and straddled his waist. His Phillies cap rolled away as you looked down into his perfect face. 

"Well? Will you marry me, Kitten?" He held up a diamond ring as you kissed him and started crying.

"Yes. I'll marry you." Your voice was shaky and filled with tears, but you were so happy as you cried and kissed him. 

"She said yes, kiddo!" Bradley shouted to Everett when you buried your face against his neck. And you realized they had both been planning this together which just made you cry more. 

"Yes! It worked!" Everett screamed, and a few seconds later, Bradley was holding both of you on top of him in the grass, alternating between kissing your lips and Everett's forehead.

You were still clutching the baseball in your right hand as Bradley put the ring on your left finger. It was a little big, but it was beautiful. "It looks like a baseball," you said as he grinned.

"That's why we picked that one!" Everett informed you, looking happier than you'd ever seen him.

And then Bradley kissed your finger and whispered, "I'm going to love both of you forever."

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

He did it! He asked her! Love how happy Ev is! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32

PART 26

Don't forget to check out Bob and Molly in The Curveball!

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[gretagerwigsmuse]

i don’t know, blame the air force?

summary: in which lieutenant commander bradshaw feels his girlfriend’s wrath after she gets her year end bonus and uncle sam takes a pretty penny out of it

a/n: listen….this is very self indulgent and that’s all i’m going to say. i literally wrote it this afternoon after…well i got fucked by the government in the form of taxes on my bonus. also yeah she’s kind of a brat in this one, but i think it’s a little deserved. rated t for language and suggestive comments 1.2k

It wasn’t often that you beat Bradley home from work, but sometimes on Fridays you would sneak out of the office at lunch and work the rest of the day from home. It typically put you in a good mood and gave you the opportunity to run a quick load of laundry or get started on an - admittedly - rudimentary dinner. Sometimes you’d even go for a dip in your building’s skyline pool.

But that afternoon, you were seething. Properly seething. And no amount of stress cleaning or tanning was going to make you feel any better. Maybe you just needed Bradley to fuck you six ways to Sunday later? Surely the serotonin from a couple orgasms could soothe this particular anger brewing inside of you.

As per every October, you had gotten your year end bonus with your paycheck earlier that day, which always inspired equal amounts of giddiness and angst within you.

The giddiness, of course, because who doesn’t love extra money? It was like found money twice a year. Sure, you worked extra hard for it, many late nights at the office, client site visits, and presentations over the last four years could attest to that. You were up in the air over whether you should add it to your brokerage account or splurge on something? Because again - you worked for it.

But then there was the angst.

The angst because you inevitably lost half of it to taxes. And this angst appeared like clockwork, twice a year, every year, for the last six years you’d been working at PwC. You knew this - it was inevitable.

Except, earlier that morning, you’d been at your desk reading the WSJ with your coffee and had seen a headline. A stupid, annoying headline that had made you purse your lips, realization dawning as you rushed to check your pay stub on workday.

Pentagon Refocuses Spending on Weapons to Deter China

As you read further, you saw that as part of the FY24 budget, the Pentagon was increasing the $30.6B defense budget a further 12% with a focus on missiles, rockets, and - yes - airplanes, specifically for the Air Force.

Uncle Sam was taking 35% of taxes out of your bonus for that? Fuck that.

So, when Bradley came by your apartment later that afternoon, freshly showered after a quick trip to the gym after work, you were steaming. And though it was not Bradley’s fault - not in the slightest - seeing him in that stupid(ly tight), grey, US Navy t-shirt only further contributed to your sour mood.

“Hey!” he called out, letting himself in with his key. You turned your head towards him and hummed, letting out a gruff hi. He toed off his sneakers and left them by the door before coming over to where you were laying on the couch, doom scrolling through Instagram, and pressed a quick kiss to your lips.

He frowned at your tepid response and you felt like a absolute bitch for a moment. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong?”

You briefly glanced at Bradley and then went back to staring - glaring - at your phone. “I’m just in a mood - tired.”

You could see him doing the mental math, trying to figure out if you were on your period, but that wasn’t until next week. “S’okay. We can just hang out and have an early -”

“- Crash any planes today?” the words slipped out before you could think better of it. Before he could even respond, you cut Bradley off. “What’s it matter anyway? They’ll just buy you new ones? Fuck the kids, I mean, they don’t need to eat school lunch? And the Postal Service can cut off Saturday delivery? Hmmmm maybe we should cut Social Security even more? Our infrastructure doesn’t need to be fixed, let’s just let our bridges and roads crumble! Fucking taxes bullshit.”

“Uhhh...”

You got up in a huff and started pacing, getting more and more worked up. “It’s not that I mind paying taxes - well, that’s not totally true. But like? Actually put them towards something that’s going to help people? Not just stupid rockets and missiles and fucking -”

“- Did you get your tax refund or something?”

Bradley was standing next to you, trying to put his hands on your shoulders in what would have been a calming motion had you not been acting completely crazy over eleven thousand dollars.

“It’s October?” you snapped.

“I don’t know?” Bradley shrugged his shoulders, getting a little worked up himself. “Rich people are weird? And your dad seems like he’d know how - nevermind.” You rolled your eyes. “What happened?”

Your shoulders sagged. Fuck, this wasn’t Bradley’s fault. It was that piece of shit House Majority Leader’s, who was so far up Lockheed Martin’s ass he could see -

“I got my year end bonus check today…” you grumbled.

Like you figured, a huge smile lit up Bradley’s face. “That’s amazing - or not?” he backtracked.

“I lost like 35% of it to taxes.”

“Ahhh.”

“And I saw this article in the Journal this morning about the new Pentagon budget and how they’re purchasing these new planes for the Air Force and it just - it’s dumb but it made me mad because I just wish my taxes went to the things that will actually benefit the average American?”

Bradley tucked your hair behind your ear and clucked your chin. “That’s a lot to put on your shoulders, kid…”

“Do you think I’m acting like a brat?” You knew you were, you were just curious if Bradley would say the same thing.

He made a face. “Well,” the word dragged out, “maybe a little…” You hung your head and leaned against his chest. “But it’s kind of valid, I’d be pretty pissed losing all that out to the Air Force, too. But the Navy’s different. They don’t just put anyone in the cockpit -”

“- Oh, really?” You peered up at him. “And how many planes have you crashed, Bradley?”

He pursed his lips. “Like on purpose or -”

You threw your hands up and groaned, eventually making your way over to your bar cart. “- Like on purpose he says! Bradley!”

There wasn’t any ice in the ice bucket, but you didn’t care. You needed something. Anything to take the edge off. You were too annoyed, too fussy - too bratty.

As you poured yourself - and Bradley - a drink, he came up behind you and wrapped his arms tightly around your waist.

“Sweetheart,” he cooed in your ear, “I promise you, I have only crashed three planes on purpose.”

Oh how you wanted to laugh. You leaned back against Bradley’s chest, fully ensconced in the smell of his soap and aftershave. “Hmmm, that’s $195M down the drain. Could’ve fed a lot of kids in Kern County with that money, repaved a lot of roads, too…”

He grabbed the drink you had poured for yourself and took a sip, hissing at the burn of the tequila. “I don’t know about the kids, but I can make it up to you.”

The glass was placed back on the bar cart with a clink and Bradley placed his right hand on your hip, while the left slipped underneath the waistband of your skirt and eventually your underwear. Your whole body sagged against him and you hated how keen you were for this - for him. Apparently you really had just needed to get fucked.

“Such a pretty girl…even if you are a bit of a brat sometimes,” he finished, nipping at your ear. “Hey, kid?” You hummed. “You know if I was an astronaut I would cost the US government even more money, you still sure you want me to go down that route?”

“Shut up and fuck me, rocketman.”

“Can do, hell I’ll even buy you dinner.”

-----------

this was so random so i hope people actually like it??? idk if no one does i never wrote it??

small taglist: @howdysebby (happy early birthday!) @sometimesanalice (thanks for the eyes alexa!) @notroosterbradshaw @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @rae-gar-targaryen @jupitercomet @sunderlust @softspiderling @seasonsbloom @heartsofminds @cloudycluster

[intoanotherworld23]

Play Time For Us

Pairing: Reader x Joel Miller

Warnings: MATURE CONTENT AHEAD NSFW 18+ only, this entire one shot contains smut and sex, consensual sex, unprotected sex, spanking, minor hair pulling, name calling, role playing, rough sex, swear words

Word Count: 885 words

Summary: Joel wants to spice things up and try something new with you in the bedroom, and the two of you have an opportunity to play around

Check out my other works on my Hall Of Hunks

"Ride my cock you dirty little slut." His hands gripped your hips harshly they would definitely leave bruises.

His tone form but commanding as he licked his lips watching you bouncing up and down. Your thighs were burning already, but his words were motivating you to keep going. Not letting your tiredness get in the way of what you both were wanting.

"God your such a greedy little bitch for me." His hand came down hard on your ass causing a sting. "So eager to please me."

Moving your hips up and down as you tried to keep up with him, but he wasn't slowing down. Your thighs were starting to become sore, but it would be a waste of breath to tell him that.

"Oh god fuck." You squealed as his cock was hitting your sweet spot over and over again.

Your nails scraping down his chest leaving scratches. Joel loved whenever you marked him cause it let him know the effect he had on you, and that he was bringing you to such a level.

"Oh yes oh my god."

"Your tight pussy is squeezing my cock so hard." He groaned as he looked down to where you two were connected.

"Jesus just look at how soaked you are for me." Growling as he looked back to your face. "I want to hear you scream my name."

"Joel please."  Mouth hanging wide open as you cried out his name.

“Say it right.” A hand reached up to tug on your hair pulling your neck back with a grunt.

“Please Mr. Miller sir.” Saying it in such a innocent voice as you could muster.

“That’s a good girl.”

His hand slapped your ass multiple times sure to leave a hand print. It stung like hell but fuck did it feel good. That was one thing about Bradley he loved to leave his mark.

"If only everybody knew what a cock hungry slut you are for your teacher."

He groaned as he watched you bounced up and down in rhythm to his cock. Your breasts moving up and down so harshly you had to reach up and grab them in your hands. Feeling his cock twitching just wanting to devour you whole his eyes glazed over in lust.

"Fucking your teacher like this."

“Mhm.” Mumbling as you closed your eyes.

“So desperate to pass my class you’ll do anything.”

Even though it wasn't real he surely was making it feel real. He was getting more into character than you thought he would. Both of you enjoying the role you both had to play.

"Might have to fuck you in my classroom next."

It absolutely turned you on hearing him talk like he was your actual teacher. That was definitely going to be the next place you two have sex was on top of a desk.

"You're just a filthy little whore." He thrusted sharply into you with each single word. "All mine to fuck whenever I want."

"Go on for me slut let everyone know who is fucking the shit out of you."

His hand reached up to grip your throat so he was choking you. The sensation was bringing you even more pleasure as you felt your cheeks heating up.

Both of your hands wrapped around his to keep it there. You could feel yourself climbing over the edge and it was a matter of minutes before you were to your orgasm.

"I own this pussy." His voice deep as he looked straight into your eyes. "This is my pussy to fuck."

Joel was losing himself inside of you, and couldn’t control the words he was saying. Normally a man telling you he owned you like that would be a turn off, but the way he said it had your pussy creaming.

"Such a greedy slut for my cock." Your eyes were rolling into the back of your head.

"I'm gonna cum." You wailed as you felt the urge to go hitting you right in the stomach. "Shit shit shit."

"Soak my cock baby." He commanded you as one of his hands crept downwards to rub your clit harshly. "I can feel that pussy squeezing me."

"Oh my god fuck Joel."

You screamed as your entire body shook and your orgasm smacked you in the face. Tears forming in your eyes with the intensity. It's been too long since you've felt this good, and you didn't want it to end.

"Fuck me that's it." Joel groaned as his cock twitched inside of you. "So fucking good."

His hand lightly tapping your ass making you giggle. Whenever his playful side made an appearance you couldn't help but get all giddy and warm inside.

Both of you sweating and breathing heavily as you sat on top of him. No words were said as he moved making you get off of him. His cock slipping from your body making you hiss.

“I wasn’t too rough with you was I?”

“Uh uh.” Shaking your head as he wrapped his arms around you pulling your body right against his.

“Good.” Kissing your neck softly and sensually.

“Cause I’m not done with you yet.” Growling in your ear as he grabbed your legs pulling them up in the air a squeal leaving your lips.

“You still haven’t earned that A.”

[mynameismckenziemae]

I Love You Two

Part 3

(previous part here, next part here)

Bradley Bradshaw x OFC x Jake Seresin.

Summary: You accept Bradley’s apology and he sneaks back into your life and your mind, making you sick with guilt. Jake figures it out and doesn’t react the way you expect.

Warnings: Adults (18+) only! MDNI! Smut, unprotected p in v, exhibitionism, fingering, dirty talk, teasing etc.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.��.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

“I’m gonna shower and take him back to the Hard Deck. I think he and I should talk now that he’s sober,” you say as you walk into the bedroom, “shouldn’t take long if you want to wait, assuming you don’t want to come with.”

“Nah,” he agrees, “I’m gonna head out too, actually. I should unpack and get my mail. See you later though?”

“Yeah,” you give him a kiss, “see you.”

He whistles as he struts past Bradley to the door, “Bradshaw.”

Bradley grunts in reply.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

Bradley’s staring at the ceiling when you come out of the bathroom in just your towel. He glances when you walk to your room and flushes again like he hasn’t seen it all before.

“Let’s go,” you tell Bradley when you come out of your room a few minutes later.

Even a hungover, disheveled mess, he looks hot.

“Can I say something?” He asks once in your car.

“Sure,” you sigh, not really wanting to do this right now.

“I’m sorry. For everything,” he taps his fingers against his knee, “for leaving the way I did, for not reaching out when I was home on leave, for saying you only were with Jake to get back at me, for showing up drunk at your house…I’m just really sorry.”

“I didn’t even know you guys knew each other,” you reply, “I would never ask Ice for information like that either, and he wouldn’t give it to me if I did. He loves you too, you know.”

“I know,” he agrees, “God, I fucked up. All of this could’ve been avoided if I wasn’t such a pussy.”

You agree but don’t want to kick him when he’s down.

“Is he good to you?” He asks after a few minutes.

“Yeah,” you reply honestly, “he really is. It started out casual, friends-with-benefits type thing. I wasn’t looking for anything, I was still pretty brokenhearted after…but I started falling for him anyway. I expected it to end when he deployed but he wanted to make things official when he got back.”

He nods.

“What happened between you two anyway?” You ask.

“He’s an ass,” he shrugs, “decent to everyone else but kept picking at me. Said I was acting like a little bitch and bringing the rest of to squadron down with my mopey attitude and shitty flying and if I didn’t get my head outta my ass I was gonna get myself or someone else killed,” he sighs, “he’s not wrong though. Don’t tell him I said that.”

“I won’t,” you can’t help but smile.

“He caught onto my beef with Mav right away too and gave me shit about it,” he continues, “like I said last night, he’s always there. Always seems to have a front-row seat to my fuck ups. Whatever though, it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to lose you, Liv. I know I lost my chance with you but I can’t lose you as a friend too.”

“I don’t want to lose you as a friend either,” you admit, “but you can’t get in the way of what I have with Jake. That’s not fair to me.”

“I won’t,” he promises, “as long as he’s good to you. I’ll do my best to stay out of it.”

“Okay,” you say, pulling into the Hard Deck.

“Did you ever find a job by the way?” Bradley asks as you park.

“Yeah,” you reply, “in HR, like I wanted. I start in a few weeks.”

“Good,” he nods, “I’ll see you around. Maybe we can hang out soon if Seresin’s okay with it?”

“I’m sure he will be,” you answer.

He won’t have a choice.

“Thanks for the ride, I’ll see ya around,” he gives you a small smile and closes the door.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

“How’d it go?” Jake asks later that evening when he comes back over.

“Good,” you answer, “he apologized again, for everything. He’s…”

“He’s still your friend,” he finishes for you. “I get it.”

You nod. “We grew up together and he’s lost so many people.”

“I won’t take that from you,” he says, “or him. I guess.”

You snort. “You two better figure your shit out before it tears your squad apart.”

“I know,” he sighs, “he just…he thinks too much. If he just stopped thinking and relied on his instincts he’d be a helluva pilot. Don’t tell him I said that though.“

You roll your eyes. “He does. It’s in his blood.”

“Yeah?” He asks.

“Yeah, his dad flew with Mav. They were flying together…when he died.”

“Oh shit,” he exhales, “is that why they don’t get along?”

You shake your head. “No, it wasn’t Mav’s fault, it was a freak accident. Apparently, Mav is responsible for pulling Bradley’s papers and setting him back 4 years.”

Jake whistles lowly. “Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know. I’m guessing it has something to do with Carole, his mom. She died of cancer when Bradley was 21.”

“Damn,” Jake says softly, “that’s…rough.”

“Yeah,” you agree, “Anyway, Mav has tried talking to him about it but he refuses to hear him out.”

“Understandable,” Jake nods.

“Yeah,” you sigh.

“I’ll work on being nicer to him,” Jake says after a minute, like it pains him.

“Thank you,” you reply as he walks over and takes your hand.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, leading you to your room, “I don’t want to talk about Bradshaw anymore though.”

“Me either,” you reply, yet he lurks in the back of your mind as Jake begins to kiss you.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

A week passes before Bradley reaches out. Jake went back home to Texas for a few days and you have a feeling that’s why he’s texting.

Bradley: What are you up to today?

Liv: Laundry, cleaning, meal prepping. You?

Bradley: Not much.

You sigh, hating this new awkwardness that’s come between you.

Liv: I could easily be persuaded to do something…

Bradley: Wanna go to the Birch Aquarium?

Liv: Only if you buy me an ice cream cone.

Bradley: Deal. No tears if it starts dripping though.

You laugh, remembering how distraught you were at 6 years old when you stained your favorite dress with chocolate ice cream there.

Liv: No promises. I’ll wear dark clothes this time.

Bradley: Good idea. Pick you up in 45?

Liv: I’ll be ready.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

Bradley gives you a tentative smile as you climb in the Bronco when he pulls right on time. Even though he’s wearing sunglasses, you can feel the weight of his gaze on your bare legs as your black linen sundress rides up.

You turn the radio up when the silence becomes unbearable. He refuses to let you pay to get in, smiling at your heavy sigh.

“Ready for that ice cream?” He asks when he sees the stand.

“Can I pay for this at least?” You ask.

“Nope,” he replies, “chocolate in a cone?”

“Yes,” you sigh.

“You’re welcome,” he prompts when you refuse to thank him.

“Thank you,” you roll your eyes before taking a long lick, refusing to blush or look away as his eyes follow your tongue; both remembering your night together when you did the same to his cock.

“Mmmm,” your eyes fall closed with a soft moan at the rich chocolate flavor, forgetting yourself for a moment, “why is overpriced ice cream so good?”

“Uh,” Bradley clears his throat, looking away with a flush, “I don’t know. Jellyfish, turtles or penguins next?”

“Jellyfish,” you reply, instantly regretting your actions…yet wanting to do it again.

“Lead the way,” he nods in that direction.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

“Seriously Liv?” Bradley chuckles, “I figured you were kidding.”

“Huh?” you ask, following his line of sight in the low light of the exhibit. “Oh my God,” you laugh at the two drops of ice cream that landed on your chest.

He watches as you lower your head to lick it off before wiping it with a napkin he was smart enough to grab.

“Good thing I wore black,” you sigh as your eyes adjust to the brighter light in the hallway.

“Can’t take you anywhere,” he teases, bumping your elbow.

“Apparently not,” you smile.

“You got a little,” he points to your mouth, “no, over more,” when you don’t get it with your tongue.

“Here,” he smiles, raising his hand just as you stick your tongue out again. You both freeze when you lap over his thumb.

“Sorry,” you flush, “get it?”

“Yeah,” he says lowly. “Turtles?”

“Turtles,” you nod, trying to slow your racing heart.

Bradley doesn’t touch you again but his heated looks are enough to have you on edge.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

So much so that you pull out your vibrator when he drops you off. So much still that you jump Jake’s bones when he returns the following evening, pulling him down to the floor when he steps inside the door, barely remembering to take the condom out of your pocket before riding him at a quick, unforgiving pace.

“Miss m-fuckkkk!” He groans when your fingers slide down your body to rub over your clit, making youclench around him, “miss me?”

“So much,” you moan as you shudder through your first orgasm.

It’s true. You did miss him. Just like you miss Bradley.

The thought sobers you quickly.

You open your heavy eyes, hoping Jake didn’t notice the shift, but he’s looking up at you with so much heat and adoration.

Jake pulls you back to him as he brings you down for a kiss, yet the thought of Bradley lingers.

He refuses to leave when Jake’s final groan in your ear pulls you over the edge with him.

He’s still there when the guilt creeps in after.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

You try to be patient with yourself as Bradley’s presence in the back of your mind remains. You’ve known him your whole life and he confessed to having feelings for you; it would be confusing for anyone.

What really adds insult to injury is you’re still falling for Jake and the thought of losing him makes your stomach turn.

They both stay true to their words though and don’t interfere in your relationship with the other.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

It’s a surprise to them both when you show up at base for your first day of orientation, passing their squadron in the hallway. Nat winks as she walks by, the only person you’ve told.

“You didn’t tell me the new job was here,” Jake says.

“Me either,” Bradley adds.

“Surprise?” You smile as your new manager continues the tour. “See ya around boys.”

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

Even with working on base now, you manage to avoid seeing them again together until a Friday night at the Hard Deck.

Penny had a school event for Amelia, so you’re helping out Jimmy behind the bar until she gets there. The squad trickles in throughout the evening rush.

Jake looks mouthwatering in a gray tee, jeans, and a backward hat. Bradley’s wearing his norm; jeans and an open Hawaiian over a white shirt, looking just as delectable.

You’re filling a glass with beer while you watch them play a game of pool with Nat and Javy, just like you’ve been watching them all night.

Your heart skips and your hand slips when they laugh at something Javy said, and all of a sudden your front is soaked and the glass shatters at your feet.

“Shit,” you mumble, looking at your soaked shirt that’s stuck to your shirt like a second skin. Not a good night to wear white.

“Never known you to have butterfingers,” Penny teases as she hands you a towel, “Go ahead and clean up in the back, you’re free to go after since I’m here now.”

“Thanks,” you sigh, “sorry about the glass.”

“No worries,” she snaps the wet towel at your ass, “you’re giving my patrons a free show.”

“Alright,” you laugh, covering your chest as you walk towards the back, not bothering to shut the door completely.

You take it off as soon as you get into the break room to rinse it under the sink and soon there’s hands cupping your beer-dampened bra and a mouth at your neck.

“Hey,” you smile as you smell Jake’s cologne, feeling his erection against your ass, “excited to see me?”

“How could you tell?” He smirks when your breath hitches as he slides his hand down your shorts.

“Fuck,” you moan as he finds your clit, not easing into it as he rubs tight little circles.

“Here?” He teases, knowing you wouldn’t.

Oh but you would. You’ve missed him so much and his touch feels so good.

“Here,” you nod, dropping your shirt in the sink and turning in his arms, “no one comes back here.”

“Okay,” he breathes between kisses, “wait-shit. I don’t have a condom.”

“I’m on the pill,” you reply, pushing your shorts and underwear down your legs, “and I’m clean.”

“Fuck,” he groans as you undo the button of his jeans and then the zipper, “I’m clean too. I’ve never-without.”

“Me either,” you reply with a squeak as he lifts you against the wall, your legs wrapping around his waist. “I want it though, Jake. Fill me up.”

He kisses you again as he lines up to your entrance but pulls away with a grunt as he pushes inside you for the first time with no barrier.

“Oh God, Jake,” you whimper at the new feeling, knowing there’s no going back now.

“I know,” he moans, “I know.”

You’re both breathing hard as he bottoms out, his forehead falling to yours as he gets himself back under control.

“So fucking good,” he grits out between clenched teeth as he begins to move, “you’re so warm and wet and tight. So fucking tight.”

You just mewl, fingernails biting into his shoulders as he fucks you faster.

“Touch yourself,” he pleads, “I’m never gonna last, you feel too good.”

“Yes,” you agree with a sigh, fingertips circling tight circles like he did a few minutes before.

“God,” he breathes, “can feel you tightening around me. Come on sweetheart, get there.”

Movement by the door catches your eye and you gasp. Jake fails to notice and keeps up the unrelenting pace.

Bradley’s there, holding his Hawaiian shirt in hand. His eyes hungrily take in the look of bliss on your face before roaming lower to Jake’s ass, now bare from where his jeans fell to mid thigh. You don’t miss the heat that flashes in his gaze and the realization makes you tighten around Jake’s cock further. Bradley’s attracted to him.

This is wrong.

But it doesn’t stop you from hurdling over the edge with a muffled cry, eyes falling closed as the pleasure tears through you.

Your release triggers Jake’s, and you force your eyes to open when you hear his low groan.

Bradleys still watching, his cock straining against the tight confines of his jeans.

He starts to slip out the door but pauses at Jake’s words.

“Enjoy the show, Bradshaw?” Jake pants against your neck before raising his head and looking over his shoulder with a smirk. “Sure looks like it.”

“I was just bringing Liv a shirt,” he mumbles as he tries to hide his erection, blushing furiously, “caught me off guard, didn’t exactly expect you two to be fucking like rabbits in here.”

“Thanks, Roo,” you say breathlessly, as Jake sets you down on unsteady feet. “I’m sorry. I’ll-just hang it on the door? We’ll be out in a minute.”

When you look up, he’s already gone. But the shirt is hanging on the knob.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

Bradley doesn’t meet your eye when you come out a few minutes later. His cheeks are still tinged pink.

“I think I’m gonna get going,” you tell Jake not long after, “the smell of beer is making me nauseous.”

It’s not a complete lie. But it’s the weight of your guilt is what’s making you feel sick.

“Okay, I’ll come too,” he replies, setting down his full beer.

“No, it’s okay,” you shake your head, “you just got a drink and I’m just gonna shower and go to bed I think.”

“You sure?” He asks, continuing when you nod, “Alright. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you say, giving him a small smile.

“Text me when you get home,” he says, kissing your forehead.

“Okay,” you murmur.

When he pulls back, Bradley turns away, watching the whole exchange.

You cry the whole way home.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

The guilt of having feelings for another man while dating another begins to eat away at you as the weeks pass. You’ve been avoiding them both which is made easier because they’ve been training nonstop for an upcoming mission.

You hide away in your office at lunch, feign headaches when they invite you out. But when Nat begs you to come over the night before they deploy for the mission, you feel obligated to agree.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

“What’s going on, Liv?” Jake asks that night when he stops by your place to pick you up. “You’ve been avoiding me like the plague, and Bradshaw too. He thinks something up too. Did I do something to upset you? Did he? We’ve been trying to get along better for you. I thought we were.”

“No,” you answer, the unease gnawing at your stomach, “not at all-wait, have you been talking to Bradley?”

He shrugs. “Here and there. I wouldn’t say we’re besties but we cleared the air. He’s been flying better and I’ve been less…dickish.”

“Well, I’m glad,” you manage to smile, wondering if they discussed the whole Bradley watching debacle.

“I-“ your phone pinging interrupts you, a text from Natasha asking if you could pick up some more alcohol on your way to her place, “I’ll try to explain everything later. We better go though, Nat needs me to stop at the liquor store.”

“Alright,” he nods, kissing your cheek.

The butterflies in your stomach are too weighed down by your guilt to take flight.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

“I’m sick of poker,” Natasha sighs, setting the bottle of tequila on the table as she flops down on the chair beside you. Javy and Bob on the ends with Bradley and Jake across from you. “Truth or drink?” She asks, trying to lighten the mood.

You didn’t intend for them to sit by each other but you needed space…which backfired because now both pairs of eyes are on you.

“Sure,” you agree, hoping to get some reprieve from the weight of their gazes.

“Bob,” she says, pushing the bottle his way as she looks up questions on her phone, “What’s your most searched on Pornhub?”

“Jesus, Nat.” Bradley shakes his head, “way to ease into it.”

She smiles as she ignores him and looks at Bob.

“Edging probably,” Bob shrugs, bright red.

“Alright,” Natasha says, looking intrigued, “wow. I didn’t think you’d answer. Your turn.”

“I hate tequila,” Bob shudders, “Javy, what's your body count?”

“I’m not proud of my academy years,” Javy shakes his head before taking a swig, “Nat, you bisexual queen you, was your best experience with a man or a woman?”

“Honestly?” She thinks a moment before taking a drink, “I don’t know. Both have their perks. There’s a twinkle in her eye as she pushes the bottle toward Bradley. “Bradshaw, how about you?”

“What?” Jake's head whips to the side so fast it’s almost comical, “You’re bi?”

“Uh, yeah,” he answers, “is that a problem?”

“No,” Jake replies quickly, “‘course not, just had no idea.”

“I’m not ashamed of it,” Bradley shrugs, “but it’s not something I shout from the rooftops either. I typically prefer women anyway,” he looks at you, “and a woman. My best experience was with a woman.”

Oh God.

Your heart races as you look away, knowing he’s talking about you. The guilt that you’ve managed to forget about for a few hours rears its ugly head.

“Jake,” Bradley says, nudging the bottle his way, making your stomach turn unpleasantly. “Are you into being watched or overheard during sex?”

“Wouldn’t know,” Jake lies. All three of you remember that morning at your apartment and the night at the Hard Deck. Both times he knew Bradley was around but didn’t stop. “I’ll try anything once though.”

Bradley nods nonchalantly as your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest at any moment.

“Your turn, Liv,” Jake slides the bottle across the table. “Who’s the best you’ve ever had?”

He’s smirking but there’s an underlying unreadable expression in it. You have no idea what he’s playing at.

“It’s a toss-up,” you say truthfully, taking a pull of the tequila before you lie, “between my first two boyfriends.”

Natasha cackles while Javy and Bob laugh too, thinking you’re just ribbing Jake.

You smile, not looking across the table as you stand, “I’ll be back.”

“Looks like it’s dark enough to start a fire,” Nat says, looking out the window, “meet us out there?”

“Sure,” you say, trying not to seem unsteady as you walk to the bathroom.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

Whatthefuckingfuck?!

You splash cold water on your face while you wait for everyone to head outside before coming out of the bathroom.

What is Jake doing? Does he know you still have feelings for Bradley? Is this it? Is this the end?

Refusing to cry (again) you open the door and head to the kitchen to get some water once it’s quiet.

But Jake is waiting for you in the dark room, the only light on is the one above the sink.

“Hey,” you murmur, looking for a cup before heading to the sink.

He’s right behind you. His arms come around to cage you in, his front flush with your back. The feel of his erection against your ass makes you shiver.

His cock definitely isn’t mad.

“I was kidding earlier,” you sigh, relieved he’s not mad when he kisses your neck, “my first two boyfriends were not the best I’ve had.”

“Didn’t figure so,” he murmurs, gently nipping your neck, “but you weren’t kidding about it being a toss-up.”

You stiffen in his arms.

“Doesn’t surprise me that Bradshaw can fuck,” his words make you shiver, “is that what’s wrong? I’m not giving you what you need?”

“No,” you shake your head, “I-“

You nearly jump out of your skin when Bradley interrupts.

“Don’t lie, Liv,” he chuckles lowly. “You’ve been avoiding him because he can’t give you what you need, and avoiding me because I can.”

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

A/N: Sorry for the delay. It took forever to refigure everything out and it still feels rushed 😒 I hope you all still like it though.

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I LOVE hearing what you think in the comments/reblogs! Seriously, feedback helps me more than anything.

Please let me know if you want to be added to (or removed from) my taglist…and if I forgot to add you-it wasn’t intentional, just remind me and I’ll get you added.

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[supernaturalscribe67]

Denial

Words: 5,703

POV: 3rd Person

Pairing: Castiel x Male!Winchester!Reader

Warning(s): Language, Winchesters being Winchesters, implied sexual content, awkward 'flirting', Dean feeling the same way about Cas x Reader as Sam feels about Destiel, Fluff, Humor

Summary: The reader does NOT have a crush on Castiel. At least, that's what he keeps saying. Sam and Dean, however, aren't convinced in the slightest. What happens when the classic Winchester shenanigans take it too far? Will the reader's true feelings be revealed?

Request:

hi. i love your work very much. I humbly request a Castiel x Winchester!reader, where the reader is the oldest brother and Cas and the reader fall for each other. Cas and Dean are best friends I feel like so Dean might tease and be like "what are your intentions with my big brother" and Cas is like "...wdym........." bc he doesn't wanna admit he has feelings and meanwhile the reader and Sam are on a minor hunt together or something and Sam is like "so when are you gonna make your move" and the reader is like "!!! i do not have feelings for this baby in a trench coat!!! wdym!!!!!" and so Sam and Dean come together and take matters into their own hands and come up with some shenanigans that make Cas and the reader come together and admit how they feel for each other. just something nice and fluffy and sweet. thank you very much 💕

Anonymous

A/N: Happy Monday! I had a lot of fun writing this and I'm glad to finally be getting it out! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

~ Much Love!

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Dean’s laughter erupted down the hallway as (Y/N) left his room. He couldn’t help but shake his head as he slung his large duffel bag over his shoulder. Just as he closed his door, Sam’s door opened. He came out, clad in his usual flannel and jean combination, his duffel resting at his side. When he caught sight of (Y/N), he smiled. 

“You got everything?” (Y/N) asked.

“Yeah,” Sam nodded. “Let’s head out.”

The two of them made their way down the hall towards the bunker entrance. Dean’s laugh could be heard getting louder as they walked near the library. Upon closer inspection, they could see Dean and Castiel sitting together at one of the tables, Dean’s laptop between them. A bowl of popcorn sat in Dean’s lap, his cheeks slightly puffed from the handful he had just eaten. Castiel’s head was tilted slightly to the side, eyes squinted as he studied the screen. The sound of Bill Murray’s voice echoed through the speakers.

“The Hell are you two watching?” (Y/N) asked.

“Groundhog Day,” Dean answered, words slightly muffled by the popcorn. “Cas hasn’t seen it before.”

(Y/N) furrowed his brows. “Out of all the movies you could pick from, you pick Groundhog Day?”

“Hey, don’t knock Bill Murray.”

“I’ll knock whoever the Hell I wanna knock. Anyways, you got the keys to Baby?”

For the first time since they approached the archway, Dean turned to look at them. He took in their attire and eyed their bags. 

“Where’re you two going?” He asked as he began to dig the keys out of his pant pocket.

“Buddy of mind in Colorado says they have a Wendigo problem that needs fixing. They can’t seem to track it down, so they need some extra hands.”

“Well, why does Sam get to go but I gotta stay here?”

“It’s a Wendigo, Dean. Bringing more people will make things complicated. Four against one is plenty. Consider this your little vacation.”

Dean sighed. “Fine. I bet it’s Bradley Knox who called anyway,” he said as he tossed the keys.

(Y/N) swiftly caught them with his left hand and pointed at his brother. “For your information, it was, in fact, Bradley Knox.”

Sam’s eyes widened and he frowned. “Oh, what? That jackass? Come on, you never said we would be helping him.”

“Because I knew you were going to bitch about it.”

“Who is Bradley Knox?” Castiel asked, his attention turned away from the computer screen.

Dean reached over and paused the movie. “He’s this dick (Y/N) met when he tried hunting solo. A real piece of work. We helped him out a couple of times, and he just shit-talked us the whole time.” He answered.

“He acts like he’s still in middle school. He smells bad, dresses like a pig, and he talks like one, too. Plus, he wouldn’t stop calling me Sasquatch last time.” Sam added. 

(Y/N) rolled his eyes. “Look, I know he sucks, but he has a hunt, and we need to stop this Wendigo. It’s already killed five people. We just have to get in and get out. That’s it.”

Sam’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “Alright, but if he calls me Sasquatch again-”

“Then I’ll make sure to stop him from hurting little Sammy’s feelings,” (Y/N) reached up and pinched Sam’s cheek.

Sam smacked his hand away. “Get off me.”

“Oh, get the stick out of your ass. We’ll be near Denver, so I’ll take you to that new fancy vegan place that opened recently.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah, whatever will get you to not bitch and moan the whole trip.” He flipped the keys in his hand. “Alright, we’re heading out. Don’t get into any trouble while we’re gone, Dean.”

Dean scoffed. “I’m not five.” He grumbled. 

“You act like it,” (Y/N) mumbled before he looked over at Castiel. Their eyes met. “Keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid, okay?”

Castiel nodded. “I will watch over him.”

“I don’t need a babysitter!” Dean exclaimed.

“I beg to differ. Then, Cas, when Sam and I get back, I’ll show you a good movie that isn’t poorly acted.”

Slowly, a smile formed on Castiel’s lips. “Okay,” 

(Y/N) returned the smile. “We’ll see you later,” he took a couple of steps backward before he turned his back on them.

Sam gave a small wave before he followed his brother up the stairs and out the front door.

*~*

Dean leaned back in his seat when the heavy metal door slammed shut. The movie on the computer was still paused, so he took a moment to glance over at Castiel. He noted how the corners of his lips were still curled upward, his crow's feet and laugh lines prominent. At the sight, he smirked and shifted his body so he was facing him.

“So…” Dean trailed as he sat the bowl of popcorn on the table. “(Y/N), huh?”

Castiel looked over at him, the smile vanishing, and replaced with an expression of confusion. “What about (Y/N)?”

Dean shrugged his shoulders. “He’s a good guy, right?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“A really good guy?”

“Yes?”

“Would you say you like being around him?”

“I do.”

“Really like being around him?”

Castiel shifted in his seat. “I’m not understanding this line of questioning, Dean.”

“Do you like my brother?”

“I do, yes, he’s my friend. Did I do something that made you assume I didn’t?”

“No, it’s just-” Dean sighed. “You know what? Nevermind. Let’s just watch the movie.” Without waiting for a response, he reached over and resumed the film.

Castiel stared at him for a moment with furrowed brows. After a couple of seconds, he shook his head and returned his attention to the computer.

*~*

The Impala drove smoothly down the nearly deserted highway. Instead of the loud classic rock that normally played through the speakers, Celine Dion’s smooth voice filled the car. (Y/N) sat in the driver’s seat, one arm resting on the window sill while the other held the wheel. Sam took his usual spot in the passenger’s seat.

“So, what info do we have so far?” Sam asked.

“Well, so far, the only thing we know is that the victims were tourists. Some of those people decided to search for a good hiking trail and then, all of a sudden, they were snatched. At least, that’s what’s assumed.”

“Did the victims know each other?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do we know when they got snatched?”

“Kind of.”

“Where they got snatched?”

“Kind of.”

“Does Bradley even know what he’s doing?”

“Probably not.”

Sam sighed and slouched in his seat, running his fingers through his hair. (Y/N)’s shoulders dropped. 

“Look,” he began. “I know it’s not the best scenario, but any start is better than a blank slate. We know a great deal more about Wendigos than Bradley does, so I’m sure we can knock this out of the park, alright? I say we just talk about something else, get our mind off of it for a while, then we-”

“Do you like Cas?”

“What!?” (Y/N) exclaimed, eyes wide, both hands tightly clenched onto the wheel. “No! I, no, what, why would you ask me that?”

“What?” Sam asked innocently, although he couldn’t hold back the smirk that curled on his lips. “I just asked if you liked him, that’s all. You said you wanted to talk about something else.”

“I didn’t mean that!”

“Come on, I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

“Well, I think your hallucinations are back because you’re seeing shit.”

“So…you don’t like Cas?”

“I don’t like Cas! Now drop it!”

(Y/N)’s eyes were glued to the road ahead, which allowed Sam to get a good look at his profile. At the top of his cheekbones, next to his nose, sat a red tinge. It was barely noticeable, but it was there. He pressed his lips together and looked away, holding his hands up briefly in mock surrender. 

“Fine, I’ll drop it.” He said, voice barely above a whisper. 

“Good. Now shut up, Whitney Houston’s playing.” (Y/N) grumbled, reached over, and turned up the music.

I Wanna Dance With Somebody thumped through the metal frame, the brothers silent as they continued their lengthy trek from Lebanon, Kansas to Denver, Colorado.

*~*

Vacation? What could Dean do on vacation? Stuck in the bunker, no less. He could catch up on some television series that he started, but he knew he would get tired of that soon enough. The Impala had been hijacked, so giving her the fine tune he had been desperate to give was out of the question. Bar hopping wasn’t an option, as he trusted no other car than Baby. What kind of hobbies did people his age get into? Crochet? Cross Stitch? Sudoku? Over his dead body.

In the end, Dean sat on his bed, pieces of his handgun scattered across the blanket as he meticulously cleansed each part until they glimmered in the dim lamplight. It was a task he had been meaning to do for a while. He guessed his ‘vacation’ could be used to catch up on all the chores he had held off.

Smoke on the Water rang out through the otherwise quiet room. Dean stopped his action to look at the screen. Sammy Calling… Dean sat the pieces down, grabbed his phone, and accepted the call.

“Hey, Sam. You guys doing okay?” He asked as he settled on the edge of his bed.

“Yeah, we’re about halfway there. Listen, I don’t have much time to talk, (Y/N) just walked into the gas station for a minute. Did you talk to Cas?”

“Yeah,”

“And?”

“He didn’t get it.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I asked him if he liked (Y/N), he said ‘Of course I do, he’s my friend’,” Dean explained with a slightly mocking tone.

“Or, he could have understood what you were asking and just played dumb.”

“I give Cas credit for a lot of things, but this is not one of those times. What about you? Did you ask him yet?”

“I did, and, of course, he denied it.”

“Of course, he did,” Dean rolled his eyes as he laid back against his pillows.

“Get this, though. He was blushing.”

“No way.”

“Yes!”

“And you’re sure it was a blush?”

“One hundred percent.”

“Oh, this is just too perfect. Sam, we have to get those two together.”

“How? Neither of them will admit their feelings for one another. They’re in denial.”

Dean hummed and pursed his lips in thought. “We might just have to get creative. I’m on vacation. I’ve got plenty of time on my hands to think.”

“Yeah, yeah, lucky you.” Sam deadpanned. “Oh, I gotta go. (Y/N)’s coming out.”

“I’ll send you my ideas,” Dean spoke quickly before he ended the call and tossed his phone onto the bed.

Many thoughts formed in his head. Mischievous, Winchester thoughts. If he thought his pranks were good, the ideas that he had to get (Y/N) and Castiel together were to die for.

It had been a personal goal of his for well over a year. He wasn’t ignorant to the passing glances that the two of them gave one another, it was rather gross if he had anything to say about it. He could tell, though, that Castiel’s presence made his brother genuinely happy. If anyone deserved that happiness, it was him. If they got together, perhaps then they could keep their bedroom eyes away from him. If he had to witness it anymore, he was sure to go insane.

As he went to stand from his bed, the familiar clink of metal filled his ears. He glanced down at the scattered handgun parts that littered his bed. With a sigh, he sat back against the pillows and began to reassemble his gun, not caring that the quality of his cleaning wasn’t perfect. Brainstorming could wait until he was finished. He was on vacation, after all.

*~*

“Stupid rich people and their stupid, worthless suits,” (Y/N)’s deep grumble echoed throughout the small motel bathroom.

His brothers snorted in amusement. None of them wanted to dress up for the charity ball they had to attend - as it was necessary to gain intel for their case - so a three-way game of rock-paper-scissors was done to determine which would be unlucky enough to wear the rental suit. For the first time in months, (Y/N) lost. The title of ‘loser’ normally went to Dean, rarely Sam, but the younger Winchesters didn’t want to risk having to put on the constrictive outfit. They seldom rigged the game to get what they wanted, but desperate times call for desperate measures. 

Castiel sat at the end of one of the beds, eyes fixated on the bathroom door, brows knitted together. “(Y/N) doesn’t seem too happy,” he commented.

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t be happy either if I got stuck wearing a suit around old people.” Dean chuckled. 

“What’s wrong with wearing a suit?”

“They’re just uncomfortable.”

Castiel glanced down at himself before his eyes settled on the brothers. “I’m not uncomfortable in my attire.”

“You’re used to it, Cas,” Sam said. “We wear jeans and flannel every day. It’s more practical for hunting. Hell, even getting around in our FEDs costumes is a pain. I don’t know how you do it.”

“Who the HELL thought cuff links were a good idea!?” (Y/N)’s loud voice boomed.

Dean covered his mouth to stop himself from spitting up his coffee. Oh, how the simple struggles of his siblings made him smile. Castiel’s head whipped back around as he stared at the door with a look of worry. Sam and Dean took note of it immediately and shared a knowing look. Dean gestured with his head over to his friend, and that was when Sam turned in his chair.

“You know what I think could cheer him up, Cas?” He asked.

Castiel peered over at him and Sam swore he saw those baby blues light up. “What?” He asked, head tilted to the side.

“Compliments.”

“Compliments?”

“When he comes out, tell him he looks nice.”

“Tell him he looks hot,” Dean interjected.

“Yeah! Tell him he looks hot.” Sam nodded in agreement.

“Hot?” Castiel frowned.

“Trust me, Cas, people love compliments, and saying that someone’s hot is a huge one. It’ll make him feel better almost immediately.” Dean explained.

Castiel considered the advice before he nodded. “Okay, I will tell him he looks…hot.”

Dean beamed and reached across the table to give Sam a fistbump. Sam furrowed his brows and shook his head. Dean’s smile faded before he cleared his throat and placed his hands back down on the table.

It didn’t take long before the bathroom door opened and out came a rather irritated (Y/N). The suit looked and felt foreign on him, a massive step from his usual hunting wear. He adjusted the collar of the jacket before he smoothed out the front. Finally, he let out a sigh and gestured out with his arms in a grandiose fashion.

“How do I look?” He asked, voice monotone. 

Sam and Dean pursed their lips, looked him over, and gave supportive head nods before their eyes shifted to Castiel. (Y/N)’s gaze moved from Sam to Dean to Castiel. Their eyes locked and Castiel immediately looked away, seeming to find his hands easier to look at. 

“You look…hot,” Castiel said.

(Y/N)’s brows shot up and his eyes widened. “I, um, I do?”

“Yes,” Castiel gave a small, sweet smile.

(Y/N)’s lips opened and shut rapidly, as if he were a fish out of water. He let out a breathy chuckle as he reached up to rub the back of his neck. “Uh, thanks, Cas,”

“Of course,”

A soft smile graced (Y/N)’s lips as their eyes connected for a brief moment. It didn’t take long before his eyes wandered back over to his brothers, who were both sporting wide smirks. He wiped the smile off of his face and straightened up as if he had seemingly forgotten they were in the same room. 

“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” He swiftly made his way out of the motel room.

Sam and Dean shared a look before they stood from their spots at the table. Castiel followed suit. When (Y/N) was out of earshot, Castiel spoke.

“He seems better,” he said with a bright, proud smile. 

Dean returned the smile. “He sure does, buddy,” He patted him twice on the back before he wrapped his arm around his shoulders and led him out of the motel room. “He sure does.”

*~*

God bless the Men of Letters and God bless good water pressure.

There were countless amenities the bunker had that (Y/N) loved. The stainless steel kitchen appliances, the massive garage, the memory foam mattress, each of them held a special place in his heart. However, the showers take the cake. Who knew water could get so hot? And who knew water could relax your muscles so well? If there was one thing he loved to do after a long day, it was spend a good chunk of his evening in the shower to unwind. 

All good things must come to an end, though, as he had earned his fair share of lectures from his brothers about conserving the hot water. While he understood their point, he felt like he deserved the comfort after years of abuse in the hands of rusty, weak motel showerheads. And, dammit, he was going to get his compensation. 

As he turned off the water, the bathroom fell into silence. Steam warped around his naked form and covered him like a blanket as he stepped onto the bath mat. He absentmindedly reached for the towel rack, but only came in contact with the cheap metal bar. He furrowed his brows and glanced at his hand to find that the rack was barren. He swore he had placed a towel there before. Above the towel rack, a light pink post-it note hung limply on the wall. (Y/N) frowned deeply, reached up, and grabbed the note. He held it close to his face to be able to see the sloppily written words.

This is for putting Nair in my body wash. ~ Sam

“That little bastard,” (Y/N) grumbled and crumbled up the note in his hand.

When had Sam been able to sneak into the bathroom to take his stuff? True, he had been known to mentally doze off in the shower, and lose all sense of himself in the middle of his wash, which had ultimately landed him victim to countless other pranks, but he would certainly be able to hear if anyone were to enter the bathroom and take his towel not two feet away, right? Regardless, at least he was within the safety of the bunker to do so. Having him space out in a motel bathroom could mean the difference between life and death. In the bunker, all he had was his pain in the ass little brothers to worry about.

With a new wave of irritation and not a care in the world, (Y/N) walked to the bathroom door and opened it. He was stopped dead in his tracks, mouth slightly open as he made to call out for his brother when he noticed Castiel standing directly in front of him, hand raised as if to knock. (Y/N)’s eyes widened and he felt a tightness appear in his chest. His mouth went dry and his heart raced. He was frozen.

“Hello, (Y/N),” Castiel said.

“Uh, hey,” (Y/N) replied slowly.

Castiel glanced down at the object in his arms before he held it out. “Sam and Dean asked me to bring you this. It was freshly washed.”

It took every ounce of willpower for (Y/N) to look down at the towel in Castiel’s possession.

“Thanks,” his voice was small as he accepted and brought it to his chest.

“You��re welcome.” Castiel smiled widely, and it was as if time itself had stopped.

(Y/N) returned the gesture as he found himself lost in Castiel’s gaze, a rather common occurrence as of late. He couldn’t help it. It was as if he were a deer in headlights, or a child staring directly into the deadlights of Pennywise’s true form. However, instead of an impending sense of doom, all he felt was peace, like a world of tranquility lived behind his eyes. A world that he wanted to go to.

“(Y/N)?” Castiel’s voice broke him out of his trance.

“Yeah?”

“Are you alright?”

It was impossible to miss the flicker of Castiel’s stare as he looked over (Y/N)’s body before retreating to his face. One good glance at himself made realization dawn on him. He never covered up. His face turned an undeniably dark shade of crimson as he was quick to unravel the towel he was given to preserve what little modesty he had left.

“Uh, yeah, I’m, um, I mean, yes, I’m okay,” he stumbled over his words. “I’m just gonna,” he slowly edged his way past Castiel awkwardly.

As he walked past, he tripped over his own feet and barely caught the towel before he could be revealed again. He chuckled, but it was more forced than anything.

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright, (Y/N)?” Castiel pushed, a hint of concern in his words.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine! Fine and dandy! A-okay!” He continued to answer as he walked backward down the hallway. It didn’t take long before his back came in contact with the cold, stone wall. He jumped and sheepishly fumbled to the conjoining hall. “There’s a wall there,” he muttered with an inelegant chuckle before he turned and made a mad dash down the hallway and away from the bathroom.

His face was on fire, he was sure of it. He knew Sam and Dean did that on purpose, those idiots. A part of him was thankful none of them were around to witness the interaction. Another part wanted them to be near so he could clobber them. Regardless, he knew he would have to get back at them, and he was going to make it his best revenge yet.

*~*

Itching powder? Too basic. Computer virus? Too complex. Hair dye in the showerhead? Possibly. All of the pranks he could think of were either too childish or had been used before over the years. He couldn’t believe he was forced to sit on his bed and scroll through the terrible articles that included titles such as “15 Awesome Pranks Your Sibling Will NEVER See Coming!” and “50 Best And Funny Pranks To Do On Friends”. None of them were helpful. They just seemed to spit the same suggestions of salt in their coffee, fake bugs on their pillow, and post-it notes over their rooms, all of which seemed bland for the level of revenge he sought.

The bedroom door flung open and bounced off the wall. (Y/N) jumped, eyes wide. Dean came into the room, all but dragging a confused Castiel to the bed. Sam followed closely.

“What the Hell is going on?” (Y/N) asked with a look of bewilderment.

“An intervention,” Dean responded as he sat Castiel down on the edge of the bed.

Without a moment of hesitation, Sam and Dean began to retreat to the exit.

“An intervention? Cas, what’re they- what’re you talking about?” (Y/N) stammered as he stood and began to follow them to the door.

He was too slow, though, as the door was shut seconds before he could reach it. He grabbed the door handle in a futile attempt to open the door but found it to be locked.

“What the Hell? Open the damned door!” He shouted and began to pound on the door with his fist.

“Nope!” Dean’s muffled voice came through the thick wood. “Not until you tell Cas how you feel.”

“What are you talking about!?”

“Oh, come on (Y/N)!” Sam exclaimed. “We both see how you look at him! Just tell him!” 

(Y/N) pressed his lips together, nostrils flared. “Open the door!”

“No.” They said in unison.

(Y/N) growled and slammed his fists into the door, causing it to shake on the hinges.

“(Y/N),” Sam’s voice was quieter. “We know how hard it is for you to say how you feel, but we see how happy you are around him.”

“Yeah, and I’m tired of seeing you guys staring at each other all of the time. If I have to see you guys make bedroom eyes one more time I’m going to blow my brains out.” Dean scoffed.

(Y/N)’s jaw tightened as he leaned his forehead against the door. “If you don’t open this door right now, you both are going to feel my wrath.” He growled and venom dripped from his words.

“Ooo, I’m so scared,” Dean spoke in a childish tone.

“Dean,” Sam hissed. “Just, talk to him, okay? We’ll be back in an hour. If you guys have talked it out, we’ll unlock the door.”

With that, two pairs of footsteps could be heard retreating down the hall.

“An hour!? Sam! Dean! Open the door!” (Y/N)’s shouts echoed in the room.

Once more, (Y/N) grabbed the doorknob to try and pry it open, but quickly found his efforts to be fruitless. After a couple of attempts, and the logical side of him begging to not rip the door off the hinges, he pulled back. He ran his fingers through his hair stressfully and turned back to the bed. Castiel sat in the same spot Dean had put him in, hands folded in his lap. (Y/N) sighed.

“I’m sorry you got roped into their bullshit, Cas,” he said with a soft, sympathetic tone as he walked over and sat beside him. “Whenever those two idiots get something in their heads, they won’t rest until they are proven right, even if they aren’t.”

“Are they wrong?” Castiel asked.

“What?”

“Sam and Dean told me you have romantic feelings for me. Are they wrong?” He tilted his head to the side.

(Y/N) opened his mouth to speak, to deny anything and everything his brothers said. However, as he looked over at Castiel and stared into his eyes, he found the words were lost on him. He looked away, hoisted himself off the bed, and made his way over to the dresser. He leaned against it with his elbow, his opposite hand placed on his hip, back to Castiel. A moment of silence weighed heavy on them before Castiel, too, stood from the bed. 

“(Y/N)?” 

“No, they’re not wrong,” (Y/N) said, his voice quiet, almost mute. “I…I like you.” He snorted. “That’s the first time I’ve admitted it.”

“You like me?”

(Y/N) turned back to Castiel. Their eyes met once again, but, that time, neither felt the urge to shy away. Instead, they kept their gaze, as if to read the other’s expression, as words seemed too complex for either one to be masters in. Slowly, (Y/N) took a couple of steps closer to Castiel.

“Yes. More than a friend. More than family. I mean, I don’t even know how to describe it. I get…nervous whenever I’m around you, but I’m the happiest when I am. No matter how terrible of a day I have, you always seem to make it better just by being near. I don’t know if this is what love feels like, but if it is, it’s strong when you’re around, and I never want it to stop.” His voice got quiet, words spoken barely above a whisper.

Again, they stared in silence, eyes searching for words yet spoken. Although only one had the capability of hearing them while the other was left in the dark. Eventually, (Y/N)’s gaze shifted to silent begging, wanting Castiel to say something, anything.

“I feel the same, and I have for a while,” Castiel finally spoke, never breaking eye contact. “I admit, I was scared to share how I felt. I understand the Winchester’s long history with the loss of loved ones, and I feared you would have your reservations about entering a relationship with me. I, too, have some reservations.”

(Y/N) nodded. The Winchesters had a lengthy list of enemies, most of whom would gain immense pleasure from causing as much pain to them as possible, even if it meant they took the lives of the ones they loved most. Being the lover of a Winchester wasn’t for the faint of heart. It was a death sentence. 

“I understand. But, Cas,” (Y/N) reached up and caressed his cheek, thumb brushing gently against his stubble. “I hate to admit it, but I think it took my brothers locking us up in my room to finally realize that I would rather live a short life with you than any life without you.”

Castiel leaned against his touch. His hand reached up to brush his fingertips.

“May I kiss you?” His voice flowed smoothly, like a river.

(Y/N) smiled. “I would be offended if you didn’t.”

Their lips met and, at first, it felt as if they began to float. Then, the spark. The same spark one only seemed to read out in romance novels or those trashy films Dean claimed to hate. A spark of love, adoration, passion, and lust. It was as if all the words left behind spoke loudly in that kiss. Everything they wanted to say, everything they wanted to hear, was translated into the movements of their lips.

When they broke away, they were breathless, faces flushed, pupils blown. Their mouths moved like they wanted to say something more, but it was lost in their need for one another. They had a silent understanding of what they desired. They kissed again feverishly and fell back onto the bed. 

*~*

“Think they’ve been in there long enough?” Dean asked as he chewed on a mouthful of popcorn.

Sam tore his eyes away from the movie for a second to look at his watch. He shrugged. “It’s been almost an hour and a half. We can go see what happened.”

Dean nodded and used the sleeve of his flannel to wipe the butter from his lips. He paused the movie and both brothers stood.

“You remember the rules of the bet?” Dean asked as they made their way down the hallway.

“If (Y/N) confessed first, you owe me twenty, and if Cas confessed first, I owe you twenty.”

“And if they haven’t confessed yet, the bet is off until they do.”

“Do you really think they’ll do it if they’re forced to?”

“Do you have any other ideas?” Dean asked with raised brows. “The last two things we tried got us nowhere. We know they love each other, they just have to admit it. I think having some time alone together should do the trick.”

“Yeah, but we forced them into that situation. I don’t know about you, but that wouldn’t really put me in the romantic mood.”

“You just know I’m going to win the bet.”

“You’re delusional if you think Cas is going to confess first.”

“Come on, have you seen (Y/N) try and talk about his feelings? He can’t do it!”

“Neither can Cas! If anything, Cas is worse about feelings.”

“Look, all I’m saying is-”

“Oh, Cas!”

The brothers froze as their wide eyes shot towards the end of the hallway where (Y/N)’s door sat. It was silent as they waited to see if anything else would happen. When they heard nothing, they began to make their way to the door, slower that time. As they got closer, a rhythmic thump resounded inside the concrete walls, growing louder as they neared. When they were a couple of feet from the room, they stopped. 

“Fuck, Cas! Harder, please!” The unmistakable moans rang out in the wall. Sam and Dean’s eyes grew wider.

“Say my name,” their friend’s voice was practically unrecognizable by the way it growled out the words.

“Castiel!”

(Y/N)’s loud cry was enough to break Sam and Dean out of their daze. Without a second thought, they turned and scurried down the hallway and out of range from the sounds that were sure to scar them for years to come.

*~*

As the sound of rapid footsteps resonated down the hallway and slowly vanished, a sly smirk fell upon (Y/N)’s lips. He glanced over at Castiel, who sat perched on some of the pillows, fully clothed. Once the footsteps were gone, (Y/N) seized the shaking of the headboard and took his spot next to Castiel on the bed. Castiel lifted his arm and (Y/N) was quick to snuggle against him. 

“That should keep them away for a while,” (Y/N) hummed.

“Why was it necessary for them to believe we were having intercourse?” Castiel asked.

“Not only so they would leave us alone, but it’s the first part of the revenge plan I have in store for them for locking us in here.”

“You know, if they hadn’t locked us in here, then we would have never told each other how we felt.”

“Stop trying to justify their actions,” he grumbled.

Castiel smiled and pressed a soft kiss to (Y/N)’s temple. “I, for one, am thankful for their decision.”

“Don’t let them hear you say that, or you’ll never hear the end of it.”

“So I’ve come to notice.” Castiel chuckled.

(Y/N) copied his laugh as he wrapped an arm around Castiel’s torso and one leg around his to nuzzle closer. Castiel rested his cheek atop (Y/N)’s head.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” (Y/N) said with a content sigh.

Castiel reached down and softly pressed a kiss on his cheek. “The moments I spend with you make it seem like forever isn’t enough.”

[eddiemunson-reader-shame]

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader: Venus

Good afternoon people of Hawkins I take hammer and I fix the canon so that Eddie and his love are there to save the day.

Alternatively: fuck people like Angela. Throw rocks at them.

Trigger Warnings: vomit mention, pregnancy

****

“What the hell are they doing to Mike’s girlfriend?!”

You sat up ramrod straight, looking directly at Mike Wheeler’s little flame as she’s accosted by a group of leering little bitches led by a trashy looking blonde named Angela. After being accosted one day in Bradley’s Big Buy, fate found you and your fiancé chaperoning Mike’s little trip to see his girlfriend and friend in California. Mrs. Wheeler had paid for the plane tickets and paid you and Eddie two hundred dollars, trusting you to take care of her baby boy and his little friends. Responsibility was something you took seriously. You felt protective, a far cry from your usual antisocial and avoidant demeanor.

The minute you landed in California was when you imprinted on the kiddos like a broody hen imprints on baby chicks. You took a particular liking to Mike’s little girlfriend: she was awkward and scared much like you were once upon a time. Jane Hopper was mousy and shy, and had been trying to be bubbly throughout the trip even though you kept insisting to Eddie something was wrong. You could recognize the signs of someone trying to hold it together. Eddie had insisted you were wrong. Despite his efforts to calm you down, nothing could make you feel safe.

You had been off the whole trip, and the way you were on high alert, the more it seemed like Eddie was right about the cause.

“Hey! Take it easy…” Eddie soothed, pulling at the hem of your Motörhead ringer tee, “Let’s not go berserker on them.”

“I don’t like the way they’re crowding her!” You hissed, pounding your clenched fist on the booth table.

Mike and Will Byers jumped, glancing from you to Eddie then to each other when you immediately stood up out of the booth seat. You were bouncing on the balls of your feet, crouched as though you were going to pounce on someone.

Everyone was already on edge because of you. Going to Rink-O-Mania had been an entire ordeal. Before you entered the parking lot, you were already bitching and moaning about the drive over. Then you started complaining that the rink smelled like feet, and then you complained that the grease from the hot dogs was too overpowering. Eddie had tried to be the peacekeeper. Settling your raging stomach with a thick strawberry milkshake when you started whining about wanting one, and then complaining that the chocolate and vanilla smelled rotten.

The shake helped settle your stomach, but once the nausea was gone you just got more broody and hypersensitive.

“Babe, take a second, okay?” He soothed, pulling you back down into the booth with him, “You’re gonna cause a scene.”

“I don’t like how they’re just grabbing her and lugging her around like a suitcase!” You said.

Will’s hands were shaking, and you could hear him whispering with Mike.

“What’s wrong with her…?”

“How the hell should I know?! She’s been insufferable ever since she got on the plane to California!”

Eddie glanced over at Mike, shaking his head and frowning.

“Mike, take it easy. She’s not feeling well.” He said.

“Eddie, this is stupid!” Mike said, “She complains about every little thing, whines that she doesn’t feel good, then snaps at you if you don’t answer her right away or do what she wants. I swear she’s on the rag! Now she won’t even let El hang with her friends.”

“Mike chill, you don’t understand-…”

You immediately snapped your head towards Will when you heard him make a strangled noise in his throat at the mention of Jane’s “friends”.

“What’s wrong?!” You demanded.

“Nothing!”

Will looked like he had a gun to his head. Hyperventilating. Pure panic on his face.

“Will…” you growled, moving in like a tiger.

“Sweetheart, please. Everything is fine. Don’t start up with the stress.” Eddie begged.

“Yeah, man! Stop freaking everyone out!”

Mike stared you down while Will looked left and right, as though hoping to be saved. A storm was brewing, both in your face and on the roller rink. And unfortunately he didn’t have the spoons or the know-how to quell both at once.

You glanced hatefully at both Eddie and Mike.

“Shut up.” You hissed, before turning back to Will.

He shrank in the booth, the faux leather squeaking.

“Those girls are not her friends… are they?” You whispered dangerously to Will.

He was avoiding your gaze. Fidgeting in his seat. You continued to stare him down until he finally, finally shook his head and muttered.

“No… they’re not her friends. Those are the ones that bully her at school…”

The air surrounding the booth seemed to shift; a cold front of anticipation hitting everyone. You began to quiver, while Mike and Eddie rounded on Will.

“Why didn’t you say something?!” Mike demanded.

“I promised I wouldn’t tell!” Will countered, while Eddie simultaneously tried to pacify Will and soothe Mike.

But you were done. You were so fucking done.

“Fuck this shit.”

You moved out of the booth and sat astride a nearby bench, kicking your shoes off and tying on your black skates. Your face was dark, stormy and murderous, and you looked like you were puffed up and ready to kill someone.

“No, no, no!” Eddie was scrambling out of the booth after you, trying to grab your arm, “Sweetheart, we need to stop and take a breath-…”

“Eddie’s right! What are you even doing?!” Mike demanded.

“I’m going to get my fucking kid.” You said.

“Since when is she your kid?!” Mike snapped.

“Since your mother told me to take care of all of you on this trip.” You snarled, nearly snapping the shoestrings on your skates as you tied them with a vengeance, “If anything happens to any of you, Eddie and I are the ones that are gonna catch hell.”

“You think I’m afraid of Karen Wheeler?!” Eddie interjected, trying to drag you back over to the table, “I get that we have a responsibility, but we need to take a deep breath and not go apeshit on a bunch of kids. You need to think of the situation we might be in...”

His voiced dropped to a whisper.

“I don’t want either of you getting hurt.”

“I’m just going to go get Jane.” You said.

“Dammit babe you can’t just go charging in-…”

Before Eddie could do anything, you had already secured your skates and began gliding out onto the rink. Vaguely over the sound of Bananarama, you could hear Eddie calling your name. You were skating a bit like shit. The motion was a little disorienting, and out in the middle of the rink you could smell everything mixed together with body sweat.

You whipped your head this way and that, before spotting Jane. Cornered by Angela, that bleach blonde jackass.

“Excuse me.” You called out, bumping the blonde with your hip.

The motion was so fluid it simply looked like you were just gliding on by, taking Jane by the upper arm and coasting with her for a turn around the rink. It was done swiftly, no muss no fuss, but you knew from years of experience that girls like Angela wouldn’t let you go so easily.

Jane looked a little frightened, and you caught a glimpse of yourself in the reflection of a mirror. Your teased hair was waterlogged with sweat, and your sharp winged eyeliner was dribbling down your cheeks and getting into your sleep deprived red rimmed eyes. To Jane, you must have looked like a demon.

“Are you okay, sweetie?!” You called out to Jane over the intro to ‘Venus’.

She waited until the iconic screech passed before responding.

“I’m okay…” she nodded, clinging to your arm when she realized you had come to save her, not scream at her.

“What were they doing to you?” You called out, only to see the intended plan a second later as Jane’s bully and her cronies started tailing the two of you around the turn. You locked eyes with Eddie across the room, watching him stand up from putting on his inline skates and gliding towards you two.

“Don’t panic.” You told Jane, “Just skate towards Eddie, okay?”

She nodded and went forward obediently, nearly falling into his open arms when you gave her a little push. Jane’s bullies were closing in on either side of you, and just as you made for Eddie, you felt a tug at the back of your hair. It was soft at first, then someone yanked you backward.

You landed hard on your wrist and ass, and when you looked up, you were doused in chocolate shake.

The smell was more overpowering than the laughter of Jane’s bullies. Angela stood triumphantly over you, her friends circling all of you as they laughed and pointed.

“Look who it is!” She laughed, “The loser’s fat little mother hen!”

You didn’t say anything as you got to your feet. Watching the girls circle you was giving you motion sickness, and you slapped a hand over your mouth as the sickening smell of cheap cocoa ice cream and curdling milk invaded your nostrils.

“Aww look, she’s not saying anything.” Angela sneered, getting into your face, “Is Mommy feeling queasy?”

The hot dog grease, burnt popcorn, oil, Angela’s Love’s Baby Soft perfume, and the insoles of skates that had been sweated in since the sixties, were cumulatively gathering together into one rank whiff to make your stomach turn violently. The feeling of saliva flooding your mouth meant the end was nigh. You looked up at Angela, a sly grin on your face as one of her female friends went up behind you with a fist raised.

“Oh, Mama’s feeling queasy alright,” you hissed, spit dribbling out of your mouth.

“You stuck up little bitch.”

Angela only had one moment to react before her friend hit you hard in the middle of the back. The floodgates opened. The punch to the back knocked you forward, and you immediately threw up all over the front of Angela’s blue shirt.

You finally understood the meaning of a Kodak Moment. Her face changed in the span of a second from superior, to shock, to horror and then fear as she began gagging as the smell of vomit hit her nostrils. You coughed up the remains of the shake while her friends immediately vacated the rink, the music stopping mid riff and everyone clearing off the minute “ralph” was heard echoing through the roller rink. Angela began screaming as Eddie nearly bowled into you, laughing so hard he was crying.

“Holy hell!” He cried, his face red with laughter and his smile wide as he led you out of the rink by the arm, “Did you have to do that?!”

“She shouldn’t have doused me in shake.” Was your smug response.

“YOU DIRTY BITCH!”

Angela shrieked, alone in the center of the rink, covered and stinking, “You’re fucking gross! You’re disgusting!”

“Word of advice, sweetheart,” Eddie called over his shoulder, a smug smile on his face while leading you into the waiting arms of Will, Mike and Jane.

“Next time: don’t pick a fight with a pregnant woman!”

[bussyslayer333]

Looking for somebody (to love)

summary: a flurry of bad dates leads bradley bradshaw to you.

pairing: bradley bradshaw x reader

word count: 5k+

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, smut, big dick bradley 🙏 MDNI 18+

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Phoenix had pushed him into this, dating wasn’t really Bradley’s scene. As much as he rebuked Jake’s love ‘em and leave ‘em mentality Bradley wasn’t much better. It was easier that way, no strings and no one left pining when he inevitably was sent on deployment.

He’d been on three dates in total so far this month, each one worse than the last.

The first wasn’t so bad in comparison to the rest. Her name began with an L, Bradley couldn’t quite remember whether it was Lana or Lara, either way Jake had set them up which should have been the first red flag.

She was pretty and blonde, definitely Jake’s type. In fact, Bradley was pretty sure he’d been on a date with the female version of Jake Seresin. The whole date she had talked about herself, and not in the cute, rambley sort of way that Bradley could get behind. But in the braggy, daddy’s money kind of way.

“Yeah and that’s the story of how that bitch of a barista burned my tongue off.” Lan/ra snarled, picking her fork at her salad.

“Oh, yeah, that sounds horrible.” Bradley tried to sound sincere.

“And I didn’t even tell you about the time a waitress scuffed my vintage Dior bag-” She interrupts herself, “fuck is that a tomato?”

Bradley looked up from where he had been cutting at his steak (that she had turned her nose up at) and winced, recalling how she had made a large scene out of not having tomatoes in her salad.

Unfortunately, one of the younger waiters at the restaurant managed to walk past their table as said revelation took place. Bradley’s date snapped her fingers in the poor waiters face, stilling him and looking down at her in fear.

“Hi miss, how can I help?” The waiter, who couldn’t be more than 17, stuttered out.

“Help?!” She looked to Bradley as if to encourage him to join her in complaining.

Bradley looked at the waiter apologetically, hoping for this to pan out calmly. Much like everything else that happened in Bradley’s life, it did not go the way he wanted it to.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Lan(r)a snapped, staring angrily up at the boy.

She stared at him expectantly, clearly waiting for a reply. Bradley wondered if it was worth slamming a few bills on the table and making his way out now.

“Uhm..” The waiter is looking around now, making pleading eye contact with who must be his manager.

Bradley finally tries to speak up, maybe diffuse the situation, “It’s okay, look I’ll just pay and we can get out of here.”

Lan(r)a objected once again, “We won’t be paying for anything! I want this meal free of charge!”

Bradley held in a laugh at her use of “we”, she had made it very clear at the start of the date that he would be paying. He was going to anyway, but her insistence made Bradley’s eyebrows furrow. Before her grating voice could start again, Bradley looked to the waiter.

“If you could just get us the bill, please?” He tried his best to communicate how apologetic he felt through his eyes and hoped that the waiter understood.

The waiter scurried off, fearing for another berating and in lieu of finding the bill.

“Why did you do that?” Bradley’s date seethed.

“I didn’t want to cause a scene,” Bradley didn’t really know why he was explaining himself to this girl.

“Whatever, Jake told me you were a dick anyway.”

Bradley laughed, loud. This girl could not be serious. He stood up and did what he should have done after the first ten minutes of being here. Slapped a hundred on the table and walked out.

In his car, Bradley considered his options. He could go home drink a few beers, maybe wallow about that pitiful date and pass out. Or, he could drive to the Hard Deck where he knew all his friends would be and chew Jake out.

He chose the latter.

“Bagman, what the fuck?”

Jake span around from where he was bent over the pool table, a smile plastered on his face.

“Not with Lana?” Jake chuckled, winding his neck around slightly trying to see if she was in tow.

“Fuck no! Why did you send her on a date with me?” Bradley all but whined to Jake.

By now Phoenix had made her way back from the bar top and was interested in what had seemingly got Bradley’s panties in a twist.

“She’s a friend, I thought you guys would have a lot in common.” Jake’s smile still scheming.

Bradley scoffs, “Like what?”

“You’re both bitches.” Jake cackles, picking his beer out of Phoenix’s hand.

Bradley’s pissed. He all but snatches the beer from Jake’s hands and takes a long swig.

“I’m never going on a date ever again.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Bradley’s vow of no dates didn’t last long. Phoenix had tricked him into another date, this time with someone of Coyote’s choosing. She was one of Javy’s sister’s friends and around the same age as Bradley and she was a total knockout.

When Javy had shown Bradley a picture he thought he was getting pranked. Seeing her in real life was even more insane. He’d decided this time on a more casual date, drinks at a bar in downtown San Diego. Although he was regretting his casual attire now. He definitely should have worn the black button up, Bob said it made his arms pop or whatever.

“Hi, I’m Bradley. Javy’s friend, you must be Maria?”

“Hey.”

Bradley’s eyebrows quirked slightly, maybe she was just nervous?

“Do you want to go in and get some drinks?”

“Sure.”

Okay maybe she’s just a woman of a few words, Bradley liked that. She’s mysterious, and hot. He’s sure he can crack her, maybe a few longing glances with his puppy dog eyes and she’d be done for.

Or at least that’s what he thought.

“So, what do you do for a living?”

This was one of Bradley’s many ice breakers he had tried, and he still couldn’t figure out for the life of him whether this girl was that uninterested in him or if she was actually just this goddamn boring.

“I model.”

“Oh cool, I mean I’m not surprised you’re totally beautiful.”

“Thanks.”

Even the bartender was looking somewhat sympathetically at Bradley’s poor attempt at saving this date. They sat in another few seconds of silence as Bradley wondered whether she was going to ask him a question. She did not.

“…yeah I’m a fighter pilot, like Javy?”

“Cool.”

Bradley was about to gouge his eyes out with the trendy metal straws sat in a ceramic pot on the bar top next to him. He mulled over whether he should bite the bullet and ask if she really even wanted to be here. He decided on a more polite version of that.

“So.. what made you decide to come on this date?”

Maria sits quietly for a moment, sips at the straw of her daiquiri and hums.

“I’m not sure.”

Bradley was going to bang his head on the table.

“Yeah I don’t know, I’m not really into guys with facial hair.”

Bradley snorts as he takes a sip of his beer, and Maria pulls back slightly disgusted. He taps a finger against his moustache in consideration. Was she hot enough for him to get rid of the stache?

No.

“Okay, cool. I’m not sure this is gonna work out.”

“Yeah.” Maria shrugs.

Bradley nods curtly, and pays off his tab. As he’s walking out he notices a guy approaching Maria, clean shaven. Bradley sees for the first time tonight a smile grace her face and rolls his eyes.

He’s on the phone to Phoenix as he enters his apartment, “Seriously Phe she was the most boring girl I’ve ever met.”

“What, because she didn’t like your moustache?”

“Shut up, you know that’s not why.”

Phoenix can hear Bradley pacing around his apartment and the opening of the fridge, she hears the clink of a beer opening and decides to bite the bullet.

“Look, I know these past two dates haven’t been great but I have one more for you-”

“Absolutely not.”

Phoenix huffs.“Hear me out. pleeeeeeeeeea-”

Bradley cannot believe he’s on the phone with a thirty year old woman, “Oh my god, fine.”

“She’s an old school friend, recently broken up with her boyfriend so she’s not looking for anything super serious and she’s your type to a T.”

Phoenix can hear Bradley tapping his foot on the wooden floor of his apartment, a sign he’s clearly thinking about her offer. He hums,

“Nothing serious?”

“Not at all.”

Phoenix holds her breath.

“Ugh, fine.”

Bradley hopes he doesn’t regret this.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Clare is exactly what Bradley was looking for, as much as he hated to admit it; Phoenix was right. Clare was just what she promised to be, funny, not looking for anything serious and exactly Bradley’s type. Honestly the date was going pretty good considering the horror show that the last two were.

“Nat never told me her pilot friends were so handsome.” She flirted.

Bradley chuckles into his wine glass, “I think Nat would probably throw up if she called me handsome.”

“She’s still that stubborn?” Clare giggles.

“As ever.”

There’s a lull in conversation as flirtatious looks are exchanged whilst they both sip at their wine. It gives Bradley a chance to remind himself to text Phoenix a thank you message.

Clare breaks the silence, “How come you’re single? I feel like you’re too good to be true.”

Bradley stews, wondering if he’s going to reveal himself so early on in the date,

“Well, if I’m being completely transparent I’m usually more of a one night stand kind of guy.”

Clare smirks, “What if I told you that was exactly what I was looking for?”

Bradley’s eyebrows quirk in intrigue, “Oh?”

“I just got out of a long term relationship so I don’t want to jump into something immediately, buuuut I like you Bradley. You’re cute.”

Bradley laughs, “Cute?”

Clare rolls her eyes, “You know what I mean.”

Bradley feels the tip of her heel begin to trace its way up his calf, stroking up and down lightly. She looks up at him smiling and he widens his legs, a suggestion for her to continue on her ministrations. It’s a nice kind of teasing, that promises a fun night ahead for Bradley. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t excited. However, Clare suddenly removes her foot from his calf and sits up straight, Bradley’s about to whine when a deep voice from behind him speaks,

“Shit, Clare?”

Bradley turns to see who Clare’s eyes are locked on. There’s a tall man stood behind him and a pretty woman slightly to the side, her dress short and red.

“Fuck, Daniel what are you doing here?”

“I’m with my date,” Daniel gestures to you.

You frown as the woman you now know as Clare glares at you.

“Yeah well I am too.” Clare folds her arms and gestures to Bradley.

You let your eyes wander to the man sat opposite her. He’s attractive, wavy brown hair, tan skin and muscular. He’s somehow even pulling off his porn stache. You finally pull your eyes away from your date’s ex girlfriend’s date and back to whatever was unfolding in front of you.

Daniel scoffs and gestures to Bradley, “This guy?”

Bradley isn’t sure whether he should be offended or not. As he sizes Daniel up he catches your eye, you’re even prettier on second look. You make a look at him as if to say “is this really happening right now?” and in that moment he decides he likes you infinitely more than Clare.

Clare rolls her eyes at Daniel, “Yeah, and what new skank have you got with you?”

Your eyes widen. This girl cannot be serious. Daniel had told you he’d recently gotten out of a long term relationship but he failed to mention it was clearly with someone who was still hung up on him, and probably vice versa. Your eyes wander back down to Clare’s date who has a disgusted look on his face, clearly equally surprised and annoyed by her words.

He speaks up for you before Daniel does, “That was uncalled for.”

“Bradley you don’t know what Daniel or the girls he used to cheat on me with are like.”

Repulsed by the newfound revelation about your date and tired of being slandered by a girl you’ve never met, you storm out of the restaurant. Early winter air in San Diego is chilly, especially at night when you’re wearing a skimpy slip dress. Your heels clack along the concrete loud enough that you don’t hear the footsteps approaching behind you. A hand grasps lightly at your shoulder and your shake it off in anger,

“Fuck off Daniel, this isn’t going to work.”

You spin on your heel, ready to berate him further when you realise it’s not Daniel at all.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have jumped out on you. My name’s Bradley.”

Bradley. Clare’s date. He’s gorgeous, big brown eyes lit up by the moon. He’s looking at you with so much concern you don’t even realise that you’ve started crying until he raises a hand to wipe a tear off of your cheek. You blink quickly, willing the tears away and chuckle wetly,

“Sorry, I’m so embarrassed.”

“Please don’t be.” Bradley’s thumb swiped across your cheek in a comforting gesture.

“Hey, do you want to go on a walk?” He suggests, offering his arm to you.

You let out a shaky breath, “Yeah, okay.”

You walk slowly along the sidewalk, arm in arm with Bradley as he tells you about himself and asks about you. You learn that he’s 35 and a fighter pilot for the navy and probably the most charming man you’ve ever met.

He looks at you hesitantly, “Can I ask you something?”

You smile at him reassuringly, “Of course.”

“Why were you on a date with that douche bag? You’re way out of his league.”

You giggle at his suggestion and stare at him as you continue to walk, trusting him to guide you.

“My friends thought I needed to get out more, but every date I’ve been on this past month has been horrific.”

Bradley cackles, “No fucking way!”

You frown at him slightly, not enjoying the feeling of being laughed at. He quickly picks up on your expression and rectifies what he said.

“Sorry, shit, it’s just that’s exactly what happened to me.”

You cock your head to the side and let a small grin onto your face, “Really?”

Bradley smiles, “Totally.” He carries on, “The first girl was insufferable, I’m pretty sure my friend only picked her to annoy me.”

You chuckle, “Damn, why was she so annoying?”

“All she did was talk about herself and her money, and then flipped on the waiter when there was a tomato in her salad.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

You look up at him and giggle, somewhat uncontrollably. He joins in with you until your both leaning on each other for support. Once you’ve stopped laughing and alarming the other people in the street, you realise you’ve come full circle in your walk and back to the front of the restaurant you had left. You peer into the window and see Daniel sat where Bradley was previously, sticking his tongue down Clare’s throat. You hold down another bout of laughter as you look at Bradley’s shocked face.

“They fucking suck, don’t they?” He whispers into your ear.

You look back at him, “Oh 100%.”

You look into each others eyes for a moment, not really sure where to go from here. You hesitantly speak up,

“I should call an uber.”

Bradley frowns, “No way, I’ll drive you.”

You smile, teasing, “Haven’t you ever heard of stranger danger, Bradley?”

“I promise I’m not an axe murderer, sugar.”

You scoff in mock offence, “I’m talking about me.”

He rolls his eyes, “I’ll take my chances.”

Bradley’s bronco is clean, he has a pine scented air freshener dangling from the rear view mirror next to some mini fuzzy dice and he lets the radio hum 70s r&b hits whilst you direct him to your apartment.

When he comes to a slow in front of your apartment building you consider your options for a moment. Were you really about to let the first man who genuinely made you laugh for the first time in months slip out of your hands? Fuck no.

“Would you- Do you want to come up to my apartment with me?”

Bradley is so glad you have more initiative than him.

“Yeah, definitely.”

He steps out of the car and jogs round to help you out of your side. He’s holding your hand as you step down and once your feet are planted on the ground you look up at him and giggle,

“Definitely?” You tease, hand dragging up and down his chest.

He smirks at that and fires back, “I mean, I can just go?”

You roll your eyes and turn on your heel, taking his hand in yours and dragging him behind you, “Yeah sure.”

In your apartment, you make quick work of kicking your heels off. You make your way into the kitchen and return with two beers. Bradley’s sat on your couch, legs spread invitingly wide. You hand a beer to him and he smiles,

“Thanks, gorgeous.”

It’s impossible to ignore the way he makes your stomach flutter with want. Once you’re planted on the couch next to him he pulls your legs onto his lap and strokes a hand up and down your calf.

“So, tell me about your tragic dates.” He speaks, startling you out of your daze.

You take a sip of your beer and lean back, dragging your eyes across his face. He looks genuinely interested so you decide to indulge him.

“The second one was definitely the worst.” You chuckle in memory.

“Colour me intrigued, gorgeous.”

You rolls your eyes at the pet name but continue, “This guy took me to dinner and made eye contact with my boobs the whole time, and when I say the whole time I mean like I couldn’t even tell you what colour his eyes are because we never made actual eye contact for long enough.”

Bradley laughs at your explanation and can’t help himself but glance down at your exposed cleavage, he shrugs appreciatively, making a little “ow!” sound when you smack his shoulder lightly.

“Anyways, he kept insinuating that I was going to sleep with him and when I told him I wasn’t interested he immediately asked for the waitresses number.”

Bradley splutters into his beer and mumbles something about your date “fumbling the bag.”

“I’ve gotta see a picture of this guy,” Bradley laughs, curious as to what type of man could have such audacity.

You smirk and reach for your phone on the coffee table and quickly swipe open instagram, clicking on his profile in your recently searched. You hand your phone over to Bradley and he places his beer down before swiping through the pictures. He outright cackles,

“This fuckin’ guy? He’s literally the size of one of my thighs.”

You look down at his muscular thighs where your legs are resting and suck in a deep breath. When you look back up Bradley’s showing you a post on his instagram where he’s awkwardly stood next to two beautiful girls clearly dressed in some type of festival outfits and clearly not friends with him. Bradley’s laughing so loudly you consider your neighbours complaining.

You pout at him, holding in your own laugh, “Don’t be mean! He’s kind of cute in his own right?”

“Sugar, how do you expect me to believe that when you don’t even believe it yourself?”

You hum at his explanation.

“Besides, I think I have a good grasp on what your type is.”

You raise you eyebrows at his statement, “Really? Enlighten me.”

Bradley quirks his upper lip, “Well first off you like big tall guys, maybe some would even describe them as hunky.”

You giggle as he continues.

“Brown hair, brown eyes, huge dick, killer moustache and absolutely hilarious. Am I missing anything?” He peers down at you, teasing smile on his face.

“What was that middle one again?” You cock your head to the side in faux innocence.

“Killer moustache?”

“Nope.”

“Brown eyes?”

“Not quite.”

“Ohhhh, huge dick?”

You giggle, “Yeah that was the one, I was wondering why you think that’s part of my specific type?”

Bradley grins, “Well, you seem to like every thing else about me.”

Your stomach burns with desire at his confidence and you have to quickly compose yourself to answer.

“Well since we don’t have any proof, I’m not sure I can hold you to that, handsome.”

You move your legs from his lap and tuck them under yourself, moving your front towards him until your breasts are pressed up against his bicep, lips hovering over his ear.

“Unless you’re willing to provide some?”

You meet Bradley’s lust filled gaze and he groans,

“Fuck.”

His lips are on yours in an instant, his strong hands threading through the hair at the back of your head. Bradley revels in the feeling of your soft lips against his, the taste of alcohol mixing between your mouths. You’re moaning into his mouth as his tongue licks into yours. His hand leaves the back of your head in favour of gripping at your waist and pulling you over onto his lap. Bradley’s thighs are firm beneath you, as you roll your crotch down into his you get evidence of his claim and whimper into his kiss. He pulls back to smile smugly at you,

“You okay there, gorgeous?”

His cocky tone only proves as fuel for the slick accumulating between your thighs and you whine as you grind down onto his hard cock, straining against his dark jeans.

“I’d be better if you fucked me.” You whimper out.

Bradley chuckles, playing with the hem of your dress,

“Is that what you want, sugar?”

You aid him in pulling of your dress, once it’s flung on the floor you speak up,

“Right now? More than anything.”

Bradley is biting his lip, eyes trained on your breasts as he reaches out to grab at them.

“Shit I can’t blame that guy, you’ve got great tits.”

Your roll your eyes at him and prepare a quip, but all thought are wiped from your mind as he reaches down and swipes his tongue across your pebbled nipple. Instead, you moan out his name breathily with another roll of your hips.

“Bradley, please.”

He pulls back and looks up at you, “What do you need, sugar?”

“You, Bradley.” You whine, nimble fingers already unbuttoning his shirt.

Once you’ve finished with his shirt, you help him slide it from his shoulders and where it sits tight around his biceps. As you suspected, he’s just as muscular under his shirt. You reach down to suck at the skin of his chest, marking his pecs.

“You’ve got great tits too, Brad.”

He grants you with a laugh which turns into a moan as your small hands begin to palm at his cock. Your touch is momentarily stopped as you help him remove his jeans and boxers. You’re sat before him staring with your mouth slightly agape at his sheer size.

“Jesus,” You murmur, hand reaching out to stroke him slowly.

Bradley wants to gloat but your touch feels so good that he doesn’t want to risk you leaving him high and dry. He watches in awe as you reach forward to spit on the tip of his cock, using your saliva as lubricant as you speed up your strokes. Once you begin to lightly circle his tip with your tongue he pulls you back up with a whimper,

“Sugar, if you carry on i’m going to cum.”

You smile coyly, “Isn’t that the whole point?”

Bradley reaches a hand down to pull at your lacy underwear. Once he’s removed it he cups your pussy, the feeling of his large, warm hand making you shiver in excitement.

“I was kind of hoping to be inside of you before doing that.”

You grind down into his hand as he speaks, finger tips grazing at your clit deliciously.

“Well don’t let me ruin your plans.”

Bradley’s eyes roll back slightly at your words and he pulls away his hand to lick at the juices you left. He hums down at you,

“Delicious.”

You whine and turn your back to him, lying into the couch and arching your back up so that your ass is pressing against his hard cock. You wiggle your ass back against him and feel some of his precum seep out onto you.

“You gonna fuck me now?” You simper at him, turning your head slightly and giving him your best doe eyes.

He reaches a hand out to stroke at your flushed cheek, “How could I say no to this pretty face?”

You keen under his praise and squeal as you feel him guiding his cock through your folds, collecting your wetness onto himself. Bradley groans at the feeling as he begins to push into your hole, the way your velvety walls are squeezing him is almost addictive.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he finally bottoms out after what feels like hours of him pushing his considerate length in. You feel so fucking full with him pushed all the way into you.

“You good, gorgeous?” Bradley asks, care in his voice evident.

You moan and push back against him, “Shit yeah, you feel so good, so deep.”

Bradley feels a whine catch in his throat at your words and tentatively thrusts into you. When he’s met with a high pitched moan he takes that as a sign to start moving.

Bradley’s thrusts are deep, making you whimper with each one. Managing to make you feel even more full than before. He has both hands placed at your waist, strong grip almost intoxicating.

The sound of slapping skin and your combined moans fill up the space of your apartment as Bradley keeps up his pace. You’re beginning to drool slightly onto your couch as Bradley lifts your body up so that your back is pressed against his chest. His strength is so attractive to you that you can’t help but let a strangled moan fall from your mouth. He smirks at the sound and reaches one of his hands on your waist down to toy with your clit. The action makes your jolt as your pleasure suddenly intensifies. You turn your head and whimper into his neck,

“Fuck, Brad please.”

Bradley’s starting to think your moans are the best thing he’s ever heard. He only increases his ministrations, spurred on by your whimpers, close to making the sound himself as your walls clench around him. Bradley increases the pace of his thrusts quickly, determined to push you over the edge. It’s working faster than you would have liked and you would have felt embarrassed was it not for the way he also increases the pressure on your clit, making you twitch and squeak out, “Bradley! Oh my God!”

You can feel him chuckle breathlessly into your shoulder, his breath on your hot skin making the coil growing in your stomach tight. With one last quick thrust the coil snaps and you’re moaning unabashedly as you spasm on his cock. Your moans are music to Bradley’s ears and the feeling of your pulsing walls pushes Bradley to his precipice.

He pulls out quickly and flips you over so he can look at your gorgeous blissed out face as he cums. It spurts out in thick ropes onto your belly and Bradley groans deeply at the sight, growling as you reach down with a few fingers to swirl it around and lift it back up to your lips.

He’s still heaving whilst looking down at you. The sight of his sweaty chest dropping up and down enough to make you squeeze your legs as another flood of arousal leaks from you. He catches sight of the action and smirks, but chooses not to taunt you any further.

He finally speaks up, “Was that good enough proof for you gorgeous?”

You giggle up at him, hair splayed around your head, reminding Bradley of and angel.

“Maybe I need some more?”

You widen your legs for him to look down at your pussy, arousal dripping from you. He whines albeit somewhat pathetically.

“Yeah I think so too.”

When Bradley wakes in the morning, his arm is draped around your naked waist. He smiles down at the sight and picks up his phone to text Phoenix a quick thanks for sending him on that date.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

a/n: sorry guys i’m on my big dick bradley agenda rn !!!

i love this so i hope everyone else does too HAHEJA

also apologies for the filth i literally cant help myself

pls comment, reblog or send me an ask and tell me what u think !!!

thank u for reading :))

- honey <333

[sometimesanalice]

In a Place Just Right

Summary: It's your first year hosting Thanksgiving in San Diego for the Daggers and Bradley can tell you're a little nervous about it. But he already knows it's going to be one for the books, because any holiday spent with you better than anything he could have imagined.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5K

Warnings: fluff and allusions to smut (minors dni)

(author's note: this fic is set in the 'Like I Can Universe', but can be read on it's own! Happy Thanksgiving, friends!)

For the last six years Penny has been the one to host Daggersgiving, but this year hostess duties had fallen on your plate. Needless to say, Bradley knew you were more than a little stressed about it.

When you had asked him about his opinion on the merits of canned cranberry sauce versus homemade he’d blinked at you a few times before asking, “Is this a thing people care about?”

He’ll never forget how adorably aghast you looked to learn that he had no preference on the matter. And maybe if you had asked him when the sun was up instead of at 3 AM he might have known better than to give you such a noncommittal answer.

“Both, we’ll have both,” you’d stated resolutely.

“Whatever you want, kid," he’d murmured as he’d pulled you to his chest and wrapped an arm around your stomach. His smart and beautiful wife. "Now go back to sleep, you’re supposed to be dreaming of sugarplums not cranberries."

“Wrong holiday, Bradley,” you’d sighed contentedly, relaxing against him. And it hadn’t taken you long to fall back asleep with that cranberry crisis having been averted.

But now people were due to show up in less than an hour and you are frantically fluttering and huffing around the kitchen like a madwoman in a very pretty green dress, "I knew that quickie was a bad idea. You're never quick, Bradley."

He’d been away and missed many holidays over the years due to his career.

Your mom had always made it clear that he had an open invitation to join in whatever merry festivities were happening with your family, but more often than not it rarely aligned with him being stationed all over the world. But he’d always been happy to get to have a phone call with you and eat the homemade cookies you’d sent him on those years spent apart.

But now Bradley got to look forward to spending every holiday with you in the home you shared with him.

Over the last week the house had slowly but surely transformed into something that was straight out of a magazine.

There was a display of pumpkins, ribbons, and a garland of strung dried orange slices that decorated the fireplace. And overpriced candles from your favorite store flickered cheerfully on every surface that wasn’t a fire hazard to a bunch of enthusiastic Naval aviators. The dining table was dressed up to the nines and everyone spot with their names painstakingly written in your pretty script on a place card sitting in a pinecone.

You had even made some oversized confetti in the shape of oak leaves out of some old books, the copy of ‘Why Men Love Bitches’ that Nat had given him years ago as a joke was finally repurposed and recycled into something more festive over where the beverages had been set up.

The whole house smells amazing. Warm cinnamons and nutmegs mixing with bright citrus and rich vanillas. The kitchen island and countertops were filled with various plates and platters and bowls of dips, charcuterie, fruit and vegetables, nuts, and other savories. All the other dishes were being kept warm in the ovens for when everyone arrived and was ready to settle around the dining table for dinner.

Bradley was positive that no one would leave feeling hungry. He also wasn’t entirely sure where the things his friends are bringing were going to go, but there were worse problems to have.

Penny had taken Amelia with her to visit her family on the East Coast. They’d decided it would probably be better for Mav to hang back in San Diego for the holiday, those tensions with her dad were still a bit strained even though they’d been married for almost four years now.

Which is how the Bradshaw’s were hosting their first Thanksgiving for everyone.

This morning had been organized chaos. Some of the last minute-things had only managed to be checked off with the assistance of strong coffee and a good playlist.

However, he’d still managed to sneak in the opportunity to spin you around the kitchen to your wedding song when it came up on shuffle. After all the cranberries were still popping and boiling down; there was time for it, he'd always make time for it.

But that was then.

Now, you are glaring at him like you’d been personally victimized by him and his cock.

“You complaining, sweet girl?” he asks with a smirk, leaning his hip against the kitchen island watching as you briskly stir the gravy heating up in the copper sauce pot on the stove. “Don’t think that’s what I was hearing thirty minutes ago when we had that pretty green dress of yours bunched around your hips. Sounded something like ‘more, Bradley, more’ to me.”

You shoot him a look that would make a weaker man wither, but he’s built up an immunity to it over a lifetime of having it directed at him.

“I think that’s quite enough out of you,” you reprimand, but he sees the amusement in your eyes even as you fight to keep the annoyed façade on your face. “We’re behind schedule now. I thought I buffered in enough time, just in case-”

“Just in case you begged me to give you an orgasm to, and I quote, ‘help me chill out’?”

“I was kidding,” you say, stopping your agitated whisking to go fluff the stuffing instead.

“All I’m saying is that if my beautiful wife is begging for me, I’m certainly not going to say no. I’m only human,” he says with an all too pleased shrug.

Bradley grabs the can opener and works on opening the canned cranberry sauce. He reaches for a couple plates, holding them up for your approval and you point to the one on the right, the scalloped white one with gold rim.

“For the record, I certainly did not beg,” you say primly, glowering into the homemade stuffing that you’d had him get the bread from the nice bakery across town for.

“Sure, sure,” he drawls, the smirk growing wider on his face as he sets to freeing the jelly from its rippled container.

He knows he shouldn’t tease you right now, but you’re so cute when you get huffy that he can’t help himself. He’s known that petulant raise of your chin his whole life. And sometimes when he looks at you he can so clearly see the little girl he’d been forced to entertain for hours when your moms were hanging out.

You went from being his favorite nuisance to his best friend to his everything.

“Do I still look ok? Or do I need to do a quick refresh before everyone gets here?” you ask. You turn to fully face him, tilting your head one way and then another for his inspection.

He would happily stare at you all day if you’d let him. He loves your pretty eyes and what you’ve done with your hair.

“You’re beautiful,” he grins, “And if anyone asks, we can just say you’re flushed from all the cooking.”

“Bradley,” you whine setting down your wooden spoon down on the counter with a sharp thwack.

“Ok, ok. I’m done, I promise,” he says putting his hands up in surrender with a chuckle.

He pushes off the counter and grabs a glass off of one of the floating shelves and fills it with some ice water.

“Good,” you tut haughtily, as you fiddle with the white and orange striped kitchen towel hanging on the oven door, “I was about to threaten to make you sleep on the couch tonight.”

“You wouldn’t.” Even the thought of it makes his stomach feel unsettled.

After nearly two decades of hard beds on foreign bases and on lumpy carrier mattresses, he’s never slept as well as he did since the two of you found your way to each other.

His peace was found under a fluffy green duvet on a wooden canopy bed with you tucked under his arm.

“No. No, I wouldn’t,” you agree, leaning in to place a soft kiss to his cheek in thanks when he presses the cold glass into your hands.

Bradley tugs you away from the warm stove and you reluctantly follow and sit on the barstool he’s pulled out for you on the other side of the kitchen island.

He runs his hand up and down your back comfortingly as you take a few sips, “We’re in a great place, sweet girl.”

“Mhm, yeah. Sure, of course.” You couldn’t sound less unsure if you tried. “It’s just… I’m nervous about the mushroom and leeks bread pudding. I’ve never made it before. And what if we run out of wine?”

“What’s been our motto?” he asks, taking over the helm at the stove whisking the gravy together as it begins to thicken.

“‘In Ina we trust’,” you say with a serious nod of your head. 

“Atta girl, we sure do. And Nat said she’s is bringing a few bottles she picked up from when she went to Napa, the good shit. It’s going to be great. Trust me,” he says giving you a warm smile. “Will it make you feel better to go over everything again?”

“Yes, please,” you say, anxiously drumming your fingers along the side of your water glass.

He’d stepped up where he could like making sure the house was pristine and cleaning up the yard by blowing off the wrinkled remainders of the yellow Tipuana flowers. He’d even been able to source and rent some more chairs to make sure that everyone would have a seat at the table.

Bradley wasn’t a schlump in the kitchen. He knew his way around a cookbook and a stove. His knife skills were pretty damn good too, if he did say so himself. But he also knew when somethings were out of his wheelhouse. So he’d taken to being your sous chef, and had taken to washing and prepping the ingredients for you so that all you had to do was toss them in whatever shiny pot they were destined for.

He even made his mom’s favorite pie. It had been years since he's had it, and he was excited to share it with everyone.

Your mom had mailed the copy of the original recipe she had that was written in Carole’s rounded, flourished script. You had made a photocopy of it to use so that the original didn’t get ruined, and then pointed out a spot on the wall where you said you’d thought it would look nice in a frame hanging in the kitchen. And he'd fallen a little more in love with you.

“Ok, hit me with it,” he says turning the heat to low for the gravy and putting the lid on.

This was a partnership through and through, he was going to give you all the support you needed.

“The turkey?”

Bradley picks up the fancy digital meat thermometer he’d bought for the occasion to check, “Big Bird has an hour and twenty more minutes to work on his tan and then he’ll rest for another thirty. Giving people time to graze and mingle and get some drinks in them, just like you wanted.”

You nod and hum contemplatively, “I’ve been thinking we need a salad. I don’t feel like we have enough vegetable options.”

He knows better than to point out that you’re currently snacking on snap peas from not one, but three, of the veggie platters the two of you had put together the night before.

“We’ve got the crispy brussels sprouts, the garlic and hazelnut green beans, and the honey glazed carrots with lemon. We’re more than fine on the fiber and beta-carotene. Michelle Obama would be proud, kid.”

That gets a little laugh from you.

“Well, as long as you think Michelle would be happy than we’re probably fine,” you say with a smile around your water glass that tells him you know exactly what he’s doing invoking your favorite First Lady.

“What else are you thinking about?” Bradley asks peering in the lower of their double ovens, where foiled covered dishes are lined up in perfect symmetry are warming away having been prepared in advance.

“Do you think two bags of rolls will be enough? Or should I text Mav and ask him to grab one more?”

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes dip down to his ass in his gray slacks. So he might linger as second longer than necessary to let you enjoy the view, since it’s for the female gaze and all.

He’s never understood wearing the most restrictive clothing on the holiday that involves the most eating, but that was Penny’s tradition to have everyone dressed in their nicest and you had insisted on keeping it going even if she was on the other side of the country.

You’d teased him earlier when you’d seen him emerge from the bedroom wearing the short-sleeved green cashmere polo you’d gotten him a couple years ago. It fit a little more snug that he remembered it, but he thought he still pulled it off well.

“When did we become the couple that matches?” you’d asked gesturing to your dress as you gave him an appreciative onceover.

If the past was anything to go off of, you would be running your hands over the soft material covering his chest and back all night.

“I just like reminding people who I belong with, sweet girl.”

He might have had something else in mind to wear for the evening before he saw you in that dress, had ironed the shirt the night before and everything, but last-minute pivot it was well worth it when you looked at him like that.

When he stands back up, he gives you knowing wink.

And in return you throw a baby carrot at him with a laugh.

Bradley isn’t surprised in the least to hear the quick clack-clack-clack of nails on the wood floors as their fluffy black and white Portuguese Water Dog rounds the corner. Having been summoned by the sound of food hitting the floor from where he had been dozing near the fireplace in the living room.

The carrot is gone in an instant and he comes to sit at Bradley's feet by the stove, looking up at him from under his curly eyebrows clearly hoping he'll get another snack.

“Nah, bud. You’re barking up the wrong tree over here,” he says leaning down to scratch his floppy ears.

“Ah, come here, Duck,” you croon, calling him over to your side of the island. “He’s so mean for a man who claimed he just saw God not too long ago, isn’t he?”

Bradley snorts and shakes his head at you amused.

He still doesn’t know how he ended up with a dog named Duck.

At the dog park, more often than not people mistook it for ‘Buck’. And you were usually off to the side more than happy to let him take the lead, biting your lip to keep from laughing at his less than enthusiastic expression when he’d have to warily explain yet again It’s Duck like quack.

You’re not even subtle about the piece of cheese you pull from the charcuterie board to feed him.

“I saw that,” he says, giving you a pointed lift of his eyebrow, “You know Bob is going to be spoiling him all night.”

“It was just a little piece of cheese. Plus, I don’t know who you think you’re fooling. I saw you go over there and deliver him his own little veggie platter with some of the leftovers we had while I was making the apple cider sangria.”

“That’s different, that’s good for him,” he says rounding the island, reaching over and snagging his own slice of cheese to snack on.

“And cheese is a protein. He’s just a baby, Bradley, what am I supposed to do? Not give him a piece of swiss?” You slide off your chair to squat down and rub Duck’s belly, you’ve always been his favorite.

“He’s almost five,” he replies flatly.

“A youth!” you exclaim, “He’s a growing boy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bradley says affectionately with a little roll of his eyes. He knows a losing battle when he sees one.

He offers you his hand to help you stand back up, but you wave him off and pull yourself up using the edge of the island. You take a moment to readjust your dress before making your way to the sink by the big windows that look out into the backyard.

“Speaking of Bob, do you know if he’s bringing his fiancée?” you ask from over your shoulder as you wash your hands.

“Not this time, sweetheart. I guess she volunteered to cover a shift in the NICU when she heard they were short staffed.”

“Oh that’s too bad, I was excited to see her ring in person,” you say drying off your hands and heading to the pantry.

“It’s all he can talk about at work. I guess they’re thinking about a Spring wedding next year. They don’t want to wait too long to get married.”

“I’m so happy for them,” you say, digging around for a moment and then emerge with a stack of some sturdy plastic plates and set them on the last free spot on the countertop. “Don’t let me forget to make them up a couple plates that he can bring home for her, before Fanboy declares it time for ‘second dinner’ and eats all the yams like he did last year.”

“I won’t forget, promise,” he says fondly.

If you were facing him, he knows you’d probably tease him for the look on his face and just how gone he is for you.

You’ve always been so generous, it’s one of the things that he loves most about you.

You were always good about hustling him out of his well-earned money from is part time job scooping ice cream in high school, like with the fundraiser you did for the local soup kitchen and the one for the elementary school summer arts program.

He’s always been wrapped around your finger, it just took him awhile to realize why.

It’s the same reason why there’s been a donation that comes out of his bank account every month for the last five years for one of the San Diego animal shelters.

Bradley had made a rather sizable donation and then set up a smaller reoccurring monthly one after the chaos that was the time Bob had set you up with his friend who worked at the shelter, back before the two of you had gotten together.

Even after all these years, he still can’t help but get a little irritated every time he sees that guy’s face in the monthly newsletter that comes to his email. He’s pretty sure Casey still might have a little crush on you, but Bradley can’t blame him. He’d have a hard time getting over you too, so it’s a good thing he’ll never have to.

On newsletter day, Bradley always finds himself giving Duck extra treats.

You are his wife. And Duck is his dog. Ridiculous name and all.

He couldn’t wait to surprise you with the golden tennis ball that the shelter sends out as a thank you after a decade of donations.

Only five more years to go.

You’re over by the bar that’s been set up off to the side, straightening the already very straight rows of gleaming wine glasses when he hears you suck in a sharp gasp.

Bradley drops the dish cloth he had in his hands as he attempted to give what little counter space there was left a final wipe down and is in front of you in half a heartbeat. Was there a fluke with some faulty stemware? Are you bleeding? There’s a reason Thanksgiving is one of the busiest days at the hospital.

“The butter!” you cry out as you whirl around, your pretty eyes welling up with tears, “I let you fuck me and I forgot to pull the butter from the fridge. It’s going to be too hard for people to spread now!”

He knows it’s more than just hosting jitters that’s got you like this, but it still catches him by surprise sometimes.

“Woah, woah,” he says as he catches you on the way to the fridge and pulls you to his chest, “C’mere, my sweet girl.”

You make a distressed noise but allow him to keep his hold on you, “But the butter…”

“I already pulled the butter, see?” He points to the sticks that are already softening away on the counter. “This place looks and smells amazing. We did good, baby. Will you take a couple slow breaths for me, please?”

Bradley takes in a couple measured breathes with you, and feels the moment your body relaxes into his.

He presses a kiss to the side of your temple as he smooths his hands down your soft, pretty green velvet dress and the warm, firm curve of your rounded stomach soothingly.

“Ugh, I’m sorry. It’s the hormones,” you sigh, as you lean your head back against his shoulder.

He hums empathically as he sways gently side to side with you in his arms.

“I would like to go on the record saying that I like pregnancy hormones, especially the ones from earlier,” he jokes lightly.

“That makes one of us,” you say with a watery laugh, “Just wait until I am waking you up at 4 AM because I am craving something from a drive-thru that’s not open.”

“Mm, can’t wait,” he murmurs before dropping a few kisses along the soft line of your jaw.

Bradley still can’t believe he gets to be this lucky in life.

He doesn’t want to forget a single moment of this. With you, with his family.

“We did a really good job with this one,” he whispers into your ear, still stroking your stomach and enjoying this moment of calm with you.

“We really did, da--” Bradley groans and cuts you off with a kiss. He can feel the impish smile plastered on your lips as he kisses you. His favorite menace.

He knows you’re pretty sure it was the spontaneous hook up in the storage closet at the Hard Deck on the Fourth of July that’s responsible for the noticeable bump you’re sporting. Call him a romantic, but he likes to think it was that night in the Bronco overlooking the ocean when he’d taken the long way back home.   

You pull away all too soon for his liking to grab his left hand. He sees the flash of the two diamonds on your engagement ring, one from his mom and one from yours, as you take it and press it to a spot near your bellybutton.

The feeling of the fluttering under his palm will never get old. He’s not too proud to say he’d shed a tear or two the first time he’d felt it.

You hum in contentment, your finger lightly tracing over the shiny gold band of his wedding ring.

Bradley lets himself bask in this moment as the two of you stand there in the kitchen of your dream house.

There are a few pops from the wood in the fireplace, the refrigerator is humming away in the background, and he can just hear the sounds of a melodic piano from the playlist he queued up earlier playing over the speaker.

Of all the delicious scents that waft through the house, the smell the floral and musk notes in you perfume is still his favorite.

There are times in the soft quiet of night, usually when you are asleep and his mind won’t quite settle, that he sometimes thinks he was put on this Earth to hold you.

It’s the only reason he can think of that explains why you fit so perfectly against his body.

Why his palms can fit so perfectly over your rounded stomach.

Why it’s his hands that you have trusted to protect your heart.

And he’s still holding you in the warmth of the kitchen when he hears the front door open.

Bradley knows he’s going to have to play host soon and he just wants to keep you in his arms for just a little longer.

“Hey kids, I brought the turkey,” Mav calls out from the entry.

You spin in his arms, looking at him wide eyed and confused as you two exchange a look. He presses one last kiss to your cheek before letting you go.

“Thought you were going to bring the rolls, Mav,” Bradley calls out just in time to see him round the corner.

Pete stands there proudly grinning holding a few bags of bakery rolls in one hand and a turkey in the other.

The sound of your delighted laughter makes his heart swell in his chest as he takes in the sight.

“Cooper Mitchell Ford Bradshaw, you are without a doubt the cutest turkey I have ever seen,” you gush as you go to greet Mav with a warm hug and a kiss on his cheek. Your son’s chubby arms reaching out for you.

Mav has dressed your almost two-year-old son in a soft, plush turkey costume that is complete with tailfeathers and a beak. He’s clearly a fan of the outfit too because he is grinning widely, showing of the more of the baby teeth that have come in over the last few months.

Mav had swung by early this morning to take him off your hands to get ready for Daggersgiving without chasing an almost-toddler around. While it was nice to have some time just the two of you while you got the place in order and took care of the last-minute things, like that homemade cranberry sauce, but he’d missed not having his son around.

The sweet sound of Cooper’s giggles and your coos fill up the kitchen as he watches you pepper his face with kisses. You bounce him a little and do a little spin, making the little boy laugh even more. The two of you in your own little bubble.

“You doin’ ok over there, kid?” Mav asks. A soft, knowing grin on his face as he sets the rolls on the counter to pull him in for a hug.

The two men had made their way back to each other over the last few years, just another thing that Bradley was grateful for in his life. The man had always been his father in everything but name. That is until he’d seen the man who helped raised him hold his son for the first time.

“Yeah, Dad,” Bradley says, clearing his throat a bit, “Everything’s perfect.”

From there it’s a flurry of activity as people start to arrive.

Nat comes with her longtime girlfriend and the extra bottles of the fancy Napa wine she promised to bring. Only handing it over once he promised to give her the name of the contractor the two of you had worked with and the exact shade of green that was used on the lower cabinets during your kitchen renovation.

Payback and Fanboy and their wives show up wearing oversized turkey hats on their heads each carrying a bakery box of pie.

Bradley isn’t surprised when Duck ditches the attention that Coyote was giving him the second Bob shows up with the famous Floyd family scalloped potatoes. Bob has always been a sucker for a pair of puppy dog eyes.

And in between checking on people’s glasses, swapping out empty appetizer trays for fuller ones, and making sure Jake doesn’t tamper with his perfectly cooked turkey, he’s got his eyes trained on you.

There are no words for the pride and love that washes over him every time he looks over and sees you with his son propped up on your hip and the way your pretty dress stretches around your growing family.

He had missed this stage of your pregnancy when he was deployed and you were pregnant with Cooper. He was determined to savor every second of this one. Every butter related freak out and every late-night milkshake run.

Being in his house surrounded with all the people he loves, minus a couple who are here in spirit, isn’t something he could ever take for granted. It’s more blessings than he ever hoped to receive in this lifetime.

You look over your shoulder at him and everything about the way you’re looking at him is picture perfect.

Your smile sunshine gold and just for him as you hold his gaze for a moment as time ticks on around the two of you. You send him a little wink before turning back to Mav who has his phone held up for a FaceTime call with Penny and Amelia.

Bradley sees his son peek his head up from where it had been nestled into your neck. Cooper grins when he sees him, his tiny hand reaching out for his dad. For him.

As he makes his way over to the two of you with his heart full, he makes a mental note to ask Mav later where he got that costume. He’s already planning on running out tomorrow to see if they have any more in stock now that it seems they have a new Bradshaw tradition on their hands.

He’s going to have three little turkeys running around this time next year and he couldn’t wait.

Twins.

Bradley sometimes still couldn’t believe it. When the tech has announced that you were cooking not one, but two future Bradshaw’s, his heart had nearly burst from his chest from the shock and joy. A gift from his late father’s side of the family.

Cooper and him were going to be outnumbered soon.

The two of you had found out earlier in the month that Everly Wren Bradshaw and Millie Lark Bradshaw were going to be the newest members to join your little family.

His girls.

It was an announcement the two of you were excited to share later tonight with everyone else when the slices of pies were being passed around.

He scoops up Cooper from you with one arm, dropping a kiss onto his little boy’s perfect curls as his small fist clutches as the soft fabric of his shirt. And then Bradley kisses the crown of your head as he wraps his other arm around you, his thumb stroking the swell of your belly.

With you- because of you- he gets to have it all.

The wife. The family. The house. The dog. The life. The dream.

He’s right where he wants to be.

He’s right where he’s supposed to be.

Happy Thanksgiving! This was such a joy to write, thank you for reading!

It might not be Carole Bradshaw's famous pie, but it's one of my favorites! And who better to share it with than you! Cranberry-Lime Pie

If you haven't read the 'Like I Can' series you can read it here!

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

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

[callsign-dexter]

My Brother's Wingman 18+

Request: Ok... I debated with myself, but... I'm gonna be a selfish bitch now and some idea in as a Bday present for me (even if its still coming on friday) and I hope you dont mind <3 

So I'd have MAJOR Rooster feels, you cant imagine! Thats why I thought about something with him, where she's Jake's sister and they have some kind of secret affair, as Bradley is slightly scared of what would happen if Jake finds out. Soo they sneak around for some time until one day you're both at Mavs hangar working on a plane (while he's gone with Penny and let's you over) and you get really turned on by Bradley being sweaty and covered in dirt, soo you somehow end up sleeping there together but later Jake comes there as he was looking for Bradley and catches you both, so you have to explain everything and Bradley fears the worst. Luckily Jakes cant do much against true love and finds his peace with it ? 

Omg does that makes sense? I'm also so so sorry it's gotten so long :O

Pairings: Bradley Bradshaw x Seresin!Navy SEAL!Reader, Jake Seresin x Navy SEAL!Twin Sister!Reader

Warnings: fluff, smut

A/N: Happy belated birthday to the anon that sent this in and I'm sorry that it is late. I hope you enjoy! Also @talesofreading and @imagine-all-the-fandoms prepare yourselves it gets steamy!

Jake Seresin had a twin sister, you, that was almost a female version of him but could bring him down back to earth when he got too high and mighty. You both knew how to push each other’s buttons and you both did it out of love even if it seemed like you both were harsh to each other. You were a Navy SEAL and loved it, you really thought about becoming a pilot like your brother but you loved being on the ground more and plus you got to deal with guns and more combat.

You had been stationed at Naval Amphibious Base, in Coronado which was only 28 minutes away from where your brother was stationed now. Occasionally you would go down and visit him and go to a bar called The Hard Deck and have a few drinks with him and his new squad and you liked them all but one in particular caught your eye. When you saw him, he always had a Hawaiian shirt on with a white shirt underneath and form fitting jeans that hugged him everywhere and in all the right places, he also had this mustache that you could only imagine all the pleasure that it could bring you. It seemed like you had caught his eye too because he had been looking at you nonstop and you would only know this because you had been looking at him nonstop as well and throwing your signature Seresin smirk his way.

——————————————————————

You had just arrived at The Hard Deck after your brother practically begged you to come and you finally broke down and said yes. You had just gotten back from a deployment and were more than eager to blow off some steam. You walked into the bar and looked around to find it filled with civilians, aviators, and tag chasers. You hadn’t come in your uniform because you didn’t want to be in it any longer even though you absolutely loved being in it but not at this moment. You immediately saw the blond haired, cocky, and full of himself aviator that was your brother. You walked over to him and pulled the pool stick from his grasp and took the shot yourself and sunk the ball and you smirked as you came up. “Hello, sister.” He said and you turned around to him.

“Why hello there, little brother.” You said he rolled his eyes.

“By one minute.” He said but pulled you in a hug and then you pulled away and looked at everyone who was silent and stunned.

“Aren’t you gonna introduce your sister to us, Hangman?” A guy a Hawaiian shirt and a mustache said and when you said that he looked good, he really looked good enough that you wanted to pull him inside the bathroom and do him right then and there. He had yet taken his eyes off you and you and you didn’t mind at all.

“Rooster this is my twin sister-“ Jake began

“Older sister.” You said smirking and looking at him for a second and then your eyes were back on Bradley and again he rolled his eyes.

“By one minute. As I was saying this is my twin sister, Y/N ‘Bullseye’ Seresin. She’s a Navy SEAL and off limits to anyone.” He said and you rolled your eyes.

“Well Y/N it is a pleasure to finally meet you. I’m Bradley Bradshaw.” Bradley said and sent a smirk of his own. Everyone went around and introduced him themselves with their names and their callsigns. You also learned that he was your brother’s wingman.

“Bullseye. How did you get that name?” Bob asked and you smiled at him.

“It’s because I never miss my target that I’m aiming at.” You said and Bradley could’ve sworn he was falling more in love and that his jeans were becoming a little tight. “I’m gonna get something to drink. Anybody want anything?” You asked and they nodded and told you what they wanted as you were walking up to the bar Bradley stopped you by the wrist.

“I’ll help you.” He said and when you looked over to your brother, he had this look on his face but you just smirked and dismissed it and headed to the bar with Bradley. You arrived there and Bradley flagged down what looked like to be the owner. She walked over and smiled.

“I haven’t seen you around before. I’m Penny.” She said and smiled a sweet smile that reminded you of a mother.

“I’m Y/N Seresin I’m visiting my brother.” You said and smiled and she nodded letting you know that she knew him.

“Ahhh so you’re her. He’s told us a lot about you.” She said

“All good things. I hope.” You said and she nodded.

“What can I get you two?” She asked

“Another round for the group and whatever she is having.” He pointed to you.

“I’ll take what my idiotic brother is having and put it on his tab.” You said and she nodded and chuckled and got to work.

“So how long have you been a SEAL?” He asked you and you turned to look at him.

“For as long as Jake has been an aviator. We went into the academy together and then we split paths but still stayed in touch with each other.” You said and he nodded

“Have you always wanted to be in the Navy SEAL?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yea I have. Mostly to get under my parent’s skin but it really spoke to me.” You said and he nodded and about that time Penny came back with the drinks and then you walked back over to the group and they took their drinks. The rest of the night was filled with drinking and getting to know each other and getting the chance to knock Jake down a peg and embarrass the shit out of him which you did with a smirk. After the embarrass the shit of your brother came to an end and everyone went to their other activities you slipped outside to grab some fresh air and look out over the ocean. You weren’t out there long when you felt someone slide up next to you. You turned and looked at the person and saw that it was Bradley and you smiled.

“Needed a break?” He asked and you nodded

“Yea, it was getting a little hot in there.” You told him you both looked at each other for a minute and then you both were leaning in until your lips touched and the sparks flew. You pulled away when air was needed.

“I really like you.” He said and you smirked.

“I really like you too.” You said and then you both leaned back in and the rest was history.

——————————————————————

You and Bradley had been dating for 3 years and somehow managed to keep it a secret from your brother, and that was amazing because you were either there in San Diego on the weekends and would visit your brother or Bradley was at your place in Coronado. It had been your weekend to stay over at Bradley’s, he told you that he was going to be staying at Maverick’s, you had met him during your time visiting your brother and now boyfriend and you both really hit it off, hangar so he could work on a plane that he and Bradley had started to restore. You and Bradley have agreed to meet at his home and then he would drive to the hanger in his Bronco and grab some food on the way there. You both had just arrived at the hangar and after some making out you both got out and headed into the building it was late when you got there so you both figured you would eat and then he would work on the plane while you watched.

The next morning you both slept in but not for long because of your guys’ internal alarm clock and you both were up and heading out of the trailer. Bradley made you breakfast and as you both at cuddled up to each other you both enjoyed the comfort of each other. “Have you thought about telling my brother?” You asked him as you both had finished eating and you put your plates on the table in front of you.

“I’ve thought about it but scared about his reaction.” He said and you nodded “You?” He asked.

“I thought about it but I like keeping it a secret. He knows I’m seeing someone but he doesn’t know who and it’s driving him insane and I love it.” You said looking up at him and chuckled.

“I have to admit it is fun. He also knows I’m seeing someone but doesn’t know who.” He said and you chuckled. You both talked for a little bit and then you sat back and watched him work the plane and looked at the pictures and other things around the hangar. Every now and then you would look over and watch the muscles in Bradley’s back flex and it was slowly turning you on. He would occasionally turn around and look at you and you could see the dirt and grease smeared across his forehead and the sweat that was covering his forehead. You bit your lip as he turned back around and continued to work. You pressed your thighs together just thinking about him taking you right then and there all sweaty. It wasn’t long until you couldn’t take it anymore and slowly made your way to him and slid your hands up his back feeling his muscles work and then around his waist. He stopped what he was doing and turned his head where you captured his lips into a fiery passionate kiss, he brought his arms down and turned around dropping the tool he had in his hand neither of you caring. He brought his hands to your waist and slowly backed you up until you hit the shelf.

You looped your finger through his belt loops and tugged him closer enough to feel his erection through his form fitting jeans. He licked your bottom lip and you opened your mouth and his tongue slid into your mouth and your tongues battled for dominance until his won. You only pulled away when air was needed. Bradley’s pupils were blown with lust to the point where his irises weren’t visible. “You’re so sexy.” You said and that seemed to do something within him because he was attacking your neck in and you allowed him access he sucked and bit to the point you knew there was going to be hickeys. He trailed his hands down to the back of your thighs and patted them lightly signaling you to jump and you did so. This wasn’t the first time you both had sex together and each time you did so it felt like the first time and it was always so fiery and passionate but rough at the same time and you loved it and so did he.

Bradley walked towards the trailer and blindly opened it and then walked to the bed and then gently threw you onto you which made you squeal but then he climbed up and attacked your neck again which made you moan. “Bradley.” You moaned out and he slightly rubbed his clothed erection on your clothed core and you moaned again. He let up and smirked and you looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I love it when you moan my name.” He said and then he was quick to shed his clothing and then he helped you get rid of yours until both were naked in front of reach other “Absolutely beautiful.” He said and your thighs clenched together around nothing. He brought his hand up to your soaked core and ran a finger up and down your folds “So wet for me.” He said and you nodded and moaned.

“You’re the only one.” You said and moaned when he slipped a finger in and rubbed your clit at the same time. Once he felt like you were ready, he pulled out and you whimpered at the loss of contact. You didn’t have to wait long until you felt him slide his erect cock up and down and then you both moaned as he slid into you. Your hands went his shoulders and dug your blunt nails into his shoulder blades as he set a slow and steady space. He put all of his weight on his elbows and continued a slow and stead pace. “Faster.” You moaned out and he did as you asked and picked up his pace.

“So tight. Always so tight when I fuck into you.” He said and moaned out he hit all right places and knew exactly where to hit to find your g-spot and when he did you felt the rubber band in your stomach tighten.

“Bradley, so close.” You said and he nodded.

“Hang on baby.” He said as he picked up his pace he started to sweat more and you had started to sweat as well. His thrusting was starting to get sloppy. “I’m close, baby. Cum with me.” He said and then he changed his angle to thrust deeper in you and that what made you come undone and you came hard as he came painting your walls white. He stayed put catching his breath while you caught yours. He slowly slid out of you and then laid beside you.

“That was perfect. Just like all the other times.” You said and turned your head to him and kissed him.

“You’re perfect.” He spoke. Both of you laid there for a few minutes and cuddled until your stomach growled and you both laughed. “I’ll go and get some dinner started.” He said and you nodded and laid there basking in the after sex high. Once you felt like you could walk you got up and put on your jeans and his shirt. You joined him and watched him cook and when he was done, he handed you your plate and then he sat down beside you on the couch that Maverick put in not that long ago and you both ate dinner and then headed to bed. Bradley closed the hangar up making sure everything was secure and pulled The Bronco inside. The both of you headed inside of the trailer and headed to bed.

The next morning you woke up after Bradley and your hand went to his side but you felt it was empty but still warm this confused you but you didn’t have a long time to be confused because you heard what sounded like your brother’s voice.

“Hey, Rooster! Maverick told me you were going to be here.” The voice said

“What’s up?” Bradley asked

“I needed the plans for the new Top Gun class that’s coming in on Monday.” He said

“Yea, they’re in The Bronco. I was gonna work on them this weekend but got distracted.” He said and they both headed to the car and that is when you decided to make your presence known. You got up and luckily was still dressed and walked out of the trailer.

“Jake?” You asked and he turned around not expecting someone else to be there as you walked closer to him.

“Y/N/N?” He asked and then Bradley turned around wide eyed. “What are you doing here?” He asked and you didn’t speak but then he turned to Bradley and he had a look of a deer caught in headlights. Jake went back and forth from you to him and then he took in your clothing. “Is that Bradshaw’s shirt?” He asked and again he got no answer.

“Jake.” You began “We can explain.” You said and he nodded and then you looked at Bradley and walked over to him and stood next to him and Jake turned to look at you both. “We’ve been together for 3 years. We both had fallen in love with each other 3 years ago when I met you down at The Hard Deck.” You said expecting him to be mad and lash out as you leaned into Bradley and he put an arm around you but he didn’t.

“I’m not mad.” He said and you made a face of shock and so did Bradley.

“You’re not?” You asked and he shook his head.

“No. I’m surprised you kept it a secret this long but I can’t be mad at true love.” He said and both you and Bradley sighed in relief “Besides I had my suspicions especially since Rooster kept disappearing every other weekend up close to your base and when you came down here to supposedly see me.” He said with a smirk “I’m happy for the both of you and I’m happy it was Rooster that you had fallen in love with.” He said.

“That means so much to us.” Bradley said and you nodded.

“Now those plans.” Jake said and Bradley nodded and grabbed them and the three of you headed over to the table and couch and you sat quietly thinking as they worked. You smiled watching the two people you love work together and get along, any other boyfriend would’ve only lasted a week around Jake but he was just being protective of his twin sister. You were just happy to finally have someone that loved you just as equally and maybe a little bit more than your brother. You knew everything was going to be fine and nothing in the world could split you apart from the two men you loved and held so close to your heart.

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