#he gives you a free beer and you just look at him with little pools in your eyes. and then you start to down that sh*t in one go

[theinfinitedivides]

you ever seen a man so absolutely pathetic you start biting and clawing like a thing feral and possessed? yeah that's me rn and it's bc of the wet puppy dog eyes. it has to be

[superswet]

🌪️ whirlwind.

scott miller x reader Synopsis: the bar has always been a safe haven after a long week of storm-chasing, but when tyler owens decides you’re his lucky charm for the night, you find that scott’s control has its limits. Word Count: 6.4k (pls don't look at me) Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI!!!, mentions of near-death experiences, tornadoes (obviously), brief insinuations to cheating, tyler is a pot-stirrer, public sex, dry humping, fingering (f!receiving), degradation, nipple play (f!receiving), orgasm delay, biting?, scott miller has a whore mouth, minor choking, use of pet names (baby, sweetheart), lots of dirty talk, no use of y/n A/N: my first time posting fic & writing for scott so pls go easy on me 🥺 sometimes you just have to let a smug little asshole take over ur entire life, am i right? if you enjoyed, pls feel free to reblog or give it a like and as always, my inbox is open if you want to chat!!! 🤍

It’s been a grueling week, one tornado after another hammering Oklahoma into a state of disarray.

You’re still shaken from the last one, the anxiety of being alone in a motel with your thoughts almost unbearable. You’ve tried to avoid being alone since then, afraid that something worse is always on the horizon, and the thought of being isolated in a room while the rest of the team is out doesn’t sit well.

The bar, though, is a familiar sanctuary. A small comfort amidst the chaos. Even though you’re drained and the idea of socializing feels monumental, tradition is tradition. Javi’s sad puppy eyes and the inevitable guilt trip on the drive back to HQ tomorrow is enough to push you out of bed and into the shower.

And, as much as you don’t want to go, it feels wrong when even Scott makes an effort to go.

By the time you step into the dimly lit bar, clinking glasses and the hum of chatter soothe your worries quickly away. Whirlwind may have seen more than its fair share of fights and other throes of debauchery, but it was a frequent, favorite stop.

And it’s already packed. Between the locals and the other storm-chasers crowding the space, you can’t find Storm Par anywhere. A roar of laughter strikes from the pool tables, and you quickly pocket your phone, realizing you’ll have no luck calling or texting when it won’t even be heard over the noise.

Oh, well. You’ll find them soon enough. Making your way to the bar to greet Jack, the burly bartender who’s been running the place for years and has grown more familiar to you the more you frequent, you hear — rather than see — one of the storm-chasers you were hoping to avoid tonight.

Tyler. God damn. Owens.

You weren’t struck by his Southern charm — your days of easy flattery were past you — but he was hard to ignore. Then again, you should’ve known better by now. Tyler always seemed to be at his best when he had a crowd buzzing around him.

“I thought tonight couldn’t get any better, and then you walked in,” he drawls, finding a space alongside you as he sets his empty beer bottle down, his voice smooth. “Can I buy you a drink, darlin’?”

You consider turning him down, not sure if you’re up for his ego tonight, but you also know Tyler. He wasn't swayed easily, especially if he saw a challenge. Besides, a free drink was well, free, and as grating as he could get, you supposed one couldn't hurt. So you nod. “Sure, why not.”

Jack, who’d wordlessly gotten your drink as Tyler approached, sets a bottle of your favorite down in front of you, his brow raising to get your attention. You hesitate before taking it and catch his gaze shift slightly past you.

Before you get a chance to follow, Tyler steals your focus with a grin, the ever-present pain in your ass. You can’t fight your instincts to be polite. “So tell me. What’s a girl like you doin’ in a place like this?”

You meet his gaze, all swirling hues and open attraction. Maybe if you were that kind of girl, his smooth, clichéd lines would work on you. But you weren’t that girl. You preferred sensible. Practical. Safe. It was why you’d joined Storm Par in the first place, rather than one of the many other crews. This tornado wrangler just wasn’t for you.

Unfortunately for Tyler, he always seemed to miss that memo.

“Same as everyone else, I guess.” You laugh half-heartedly. Maybe if the conversation is light enough, you can slip away without it turning into a spectacle. “Just looking to unwind.”

If Tyler notices your lack of enthusiasm, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he makes a show of settling into his spot next to you, grin stretching wide. The beer in his hands is fresh and cold, same as yours, though unlike yourself he’s already taken a few drinks while you start to pick at the label. Javi would've poked fun by now, but your friend is nowhere near. Typical.

Tyler takes another drink, resting his arm on the bar, your eyes drifting to his tanned bicep. His grin stretches when he catches you looking, and you try not to scowl at falling for his display.

He continues with a well-used, “Well, you sure do brighten up the place.”

Thank god. Playing along, you don’t waste a second as your gaze wanders eagerly around the bar. From your new position you spot a cluster of tables on the other side of the room, Storm Par filling out the seats.

Scott sits alone at one of them, as he always did, but his posture is rigid, and even from a distance you can tell his focus is far from the game of darts Javi tries to include him in. Unsurprising. But rather than being distracted by his phone, worrying about the next job the team would have to take, his eyes are locked in on you.

The intensity makes you shiver. A few bottles sit empty next to him, and you only know they’re his by the unmistakable Guinness label adorning the side. A half-empty glass rests in his hand like he’d meant to take a sip before catching sight of Tyler.

Since joining Storm Par, the number of things you knew about Scott could be counted on your fingers. And in that time, you’d never seen him unwind. Not truly, anyway. As frustrating as it could be, you'd come to respect Scott's unwavering demeanor.

Amidst the chaos, no matter how intense it got, Scott was the stoic anchor of the team. There was a reason for his lectures and regulations. He was as dependable as the code he lived by, but most of the team often dismissed it as rigid and unnecessary. You knew it took strength and reliability to remain true to your values.

Much like you were forgoing now, your polite smile tight on your lips.

Beyond Javi, the rest of the team is scattered around Whirlwind, some dancing with reckless abandon on the makeshift dance floor while others clink shots over a job well done with the other storm-chasing crews. Scott is still firmly planted on the barstool, setting his glass down with a white-knuckled grip.

Tyler, of course, pays no attention. He leans in, casually inching closer to you, wrapping up some story of an exaggerated Wrangler exploit. Close enough to brush against you. When you glance down at the contact, Tyler notices where you’ve grown distracted, that easygoing grin slipping as he takes in your view.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Tyler says with a sigh, head shaking in disbelief. “Just admit it — I’m a hell of a lot more fun than Storm Cloud over there.”

You disagree, but keep it to yourself. Tyler and his crew were reckless, and, sure, while there was some level of risk that came with what you all did, there was a clear difference between you and them. 

It was part of what had drawn you to Scott in the first place. He was meticulous and no-nonsense, quick to call out mistakes whether you were out in the field or back in the office. But even Scott wasn't immune to a lecture or two — something he'd gone to great lengths to keep under lock and key.

And you only knew by accident.

Another sleepless night had driven you out of your room in search of coffee, leading you to a diner where you’d stumbled across him and Riggs in a heated discussion. Your Mama had taught you manners about eavesdropping, but you were frozen in place, listening to Riggs furiously drill into Scott over another fuck up (not his fault) and whether he was serious or not about the work they were doing. Before you could slip away unnoticed, not wanting to be lectured too, Scott’s eyes met yours, giving you a small, subtle shake of his head.

You’d run straight back to your room after, hoping that maybe it'd been a weird nightmare and you’d wake up to business as usual. But after another hour of tossing and turning, Scott’s familiar knock sounded at your door, and when you’d gathered the courage to meet him face to face, he’d looked just as conflicted as you felt. After what you’d heard, the way Scott took responsibility for every mistake and didn't throw anyone under the bus, keeping it between you two was the least you could do.

Something changed after that night. When a particularly nasty tornado touched ground a few weeks later and nearly swept you up in it, nobody questioned Scott’s decision to reassign you to Scarecrow. Nobody questioned why your partner had quit shortly after, either.

Scott still hadn’t asked why you’d been awake that night, just the same as you didn’t ask about Riggs.

You glance over at Scott again now, the memory fresh in your mind. His knuckles are just as white as when you’d found him in the diner, expression still shadowed, like he’s torn between intervening and letting it play out. But even with a crowd between you and the two men, the tension is thick, crackling in the air.

Tyler leans in closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper as glances over at Scott. “He’s got that brooding thing down to an art, doesn’t he? Don’t you ever crave a little spontaneity?”

You shift away from Tyler, the weight of Scott’s gaze growing heavy. From the corner of your eye you can just barely make out the hard set to his jaw, no longer working the cinnamon gum he obsessively kept on him. You manage a tight smile, distracted, as Javi’s voice rises briefly above the noise — your attention divided between the brewing storm on the other end of the bar and the eye of the one you were currently stuck in.

“I… I think we all have our reasons for sticking around.” You say, just as Javi finally notices you, his smile dimming as his gaze slides to Tyler.

Shit.

“Oh, I’m sure you do.” Tyler’s drawl is playful, almost teasing, and if he sees that you’re not even looking at him anymore, he doesn’t seem to care. “I’m just saying. If you ever want to get away from Clipboard over there...”

This time you do look with a flash of agitation. “If I wanted that, I’d be part of your team, Tyler. Not his.”

“Now, hold on, just hear me out for a second.” Tyler takes another pull from his drink, but when he sets it back down, he’s too close yet again. Fingers brush unwarranted against you, his touch lingering in a way that immediately makes your skin crawl. “How about we make a deal? Let me show you a good time tonight, and I promise you won’t even remember his name by the end of it.”

The suggestion hangs heavy in the air. You're only just barely aware of the way your features shift as background noise fades and you’re left with a high-pitched ringing in your ears, each emotion rolling through you longer to process than the last. By the time disgust sets in, flinching away from his wandering hands, you see past the red just enough to catch his grin widening in amusement.

And you realize, with terrifying clarity, that he’s been toying with you the whole night, just to start something with your team. You try not to tremble, swallowing your rage, and remind yourself that you'll be kicked out if dump your drink on him.

A stool scrapes loudly from the other side of the room. Whatever semblance of peace snaps.

“Uh oh.” Tyler notices Scott’s approach, and has the audacity to flash you a smile. “Looks like we’ve got company. He sure knows how to kill a mood, doesn’t he?”

You don't have a chance to respond, Scott stopping beside you, barely restrained anger coming off him in waves. You instinctively step closer to him, your drink forgotten and unwanted on the bar. His eyes flash with anger as he regards Tyler, that muscle working overtime in his jaw — and you know he's seen everything, from Tyler whispering into your ear to the look of repulse that you'd tried to hide.

“We need to talk.” Scott’s gaze shifts to you. You recognize the silent message he sends, the urgency in his voice as he fights to control his composure for your sake. “Now.”

“Ouch, Scotty. Not even a hello? And here I thought manners came with that fancy degree.” Tyler whistles low, appraising Scott like he’s not seconds away from getting his nose broken. “I was just getting acquainted with your friend over here. Giving her the whole Wrangler pitch. You know how it goes.” His smirk growing, he takes your silence as a cue to continue. “Come to think of it, wasn’t that how Gabby left? Told me she was over all the huffin' and puffin', especially after—”

“Enough.” Scott's interjection is loud and clear, your heart stuttering at the icy tone. When he slides an arm around your waist, the weight unfamiliar, you can’t tell if it’s to keep you from lunging at Tyler, or himself. You glance between Tyler's satisfied grin and the glare Scott sends him, confused. Who was Gabby? “Shut the fuck up for once, Owens. Seriously. Do us all a fucking favor.”

You still swim with questions as Scott pulls you close, no longer waiting for Tyler’s approval or response — not that he needed it in the first place. Lights cast long shadows as he navigates you between tables, the ringing in your ears lessening the further away from Tyler you get. Scott ushers you out the nearest exit, his palm warm against the small of your back.

The back door slams shut with a final click as you spill out into the alley together. It’s as dimly lit as the inside is, a singular dying bulb flickering just a few steps away. The sounds of the bar are muffled here now that your hearing has returned to normal, leaving only the distant hum of traffic and your ragged breathing.

The chilled air immediately hits you as Scott pulls away, and you watch, lost, as he paces angrily while you try to sort your thoughts out.

“What the hell was that? I thought you said you weren’t coming tonight.” Scott’s voice is sharp, cutting through the night like a knife. He turns to face you with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken, his scowl reflecting the look he gets when he's about to unleash on someone. “You said you needed space, time to clear your head… So why are you here? With him?”

“I know. Plans change,” you reply, caught off-guard, hoping to sound casual even as you hook your finger nervously under the strap of your dress. You’ve never seen Scott this worked up before, and it’s unsettling.

“Plans change?” Scott scoffs, his voice rising with every word. “That’s your excuse? You say one thing, and then do the complete opposite? What was your plan, then? To drink with Tyler and maybe let him drive you home? Was that the idea?”

You’re taken aback by the sharpness of his words. “It was just a drink, Scott. I needed to get out and clear my head.”

“Just a drink?” Scott’s eyes narrow, and he takes a step closer, his frustration barely contained. “Do you really think I’m that naive? Tyler doesn’t just do ‘just a drink.’ He’s always looking for something more. And you—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. “He makes a mess of everything he touches. You know what he’s like. Hell, you’re smart enough to see through his bullshit. So why are you letting him get close to you?”

“Scott, it’s not like that,” you protest, your voice wavering slightly under his scrutiny. “I needed to get out. It had nothing to do with him.”

“And you couldn’t find another way to clear your head? Without him? Without the guy who’s known for causing chaos?” His voice is thick with emotion, the carefully controlled mask he usually wears slipping away to reveal the raw frustration and fear beneath. “You think I don’t see what’s happening here? I’ve been through this before, and I’m not going to stand by and watch you make the same mistakes.”

“What are you implying?” You ask, confused and angry.

“I’m saying I think you’re using Tyler as a distraction,” Scott says, his voice sharp, “A way to escape from everything you’ve been dealing with.”

Frustration prickles at his words, and even though you try not to, it’s hard to keep the edge from your voice. “Escape? That’s not— I’m not running away from anything.”

“We’ve had a rough week. I know it’s been hard on you,” Scott says, his tone softening slightly, though he still looks on edge. His jaw ticks again, and your gaze immediately darts to the pack of gum you know he keeps in his right back pocket. “But if you’re letting someone like Tyler pull you away from what really matters, it’ll only make things worse. I’ve seen too many people get hurt by him.”

Your anger flares at his scolding, hating that you found yourself in one storm, only to be led willingly into the next. “And what, Scott? You think you know me so well that you can just decide what’s best for me?”

“No, I’m just—” Scott shakes his head, taking a step toward you, then rethinking it. “I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“Safe?” You try to suppress a laugh, but it comes out bitter. “Safe doesn’t really exist in our line of work, and you know that.”

Scott’s eyes flash with a mix of frustration and something else you can’t quite place. He takes a deep breath, struggling to steady himself. “You think I don’t know that? When things go wrong, I need to know that I can count on the people around me to handle their shit.”

You raise an eyebrow, uncertain where this is going. “And what exactly does that have to do with Tyler or me?”

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asks, his tone almost pleading. “When you’re involved, everything gets complicated. I can’t think straight when you’re involved. I can’t focus. Hell, I can’t even sleep at night.”

Scott runs a hand through his hair, his fingers gripping tightly as if trying to ground himself. “That tornado— When the equipment malfunctioned because Dale failed to follow the calibration protocols I specifically fucking outlined— I was frozen, just paralyzed with fear. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I knew we couldn’t make it to you in time.”

You still, remembering how quickly Scott had cornered Dale when you got back. You’d thought it was because of the readings and the instructions he’d ignored that had nearly cost you both your lives.

Scott’s breath hitches as he continues. “It would’ve been my fault. My responsibility. My orders. I was convinced I’d lost you. And I thought if I could just keep you safe, try to control the chaos, that it might make things better. But seeing you with Tyler tonight... It’s like I’m back in that moment, feeling helpless, and I—” He cuts himself off with a shake of his head. “Look, I’m not going through that again. I can’t.”

His voice cracks, and you see the depth of his internal struggle. “I’m just… trying to protect you,” he admits quietly, “but I don’t know if you even see it that way.”

His words weigh heavy, the shock of it ripping right through you. Scott Miller didn't go out of his way to be kind.

You're pulled back through the last few months: the coffee, just the way you liked it, that Scott always had waiting for you after a chase; his lack of scorn when you fell asleep on him in the van the next morning, when exhaustion wins and his silence becomes safety; the lingering, unasked question on his lips every time you were tasked to go out onto the field again and you agreed, over and over, despite the very real fear of the very thing you chased.

For a moment, everything else fades away — Tyler, the bar, the noise.

“Scott.” Your voice breaks through the quiet in a whisper, drawing close to him. Your hands glide gently along the black fabric of his shirt, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palms. “I’m here,” you say, your voice steady but soft. “I’m with you.”

For a moment, that vulnerability continues to swim in his eyes. And then he steps closer, his fingers wrapping around your wrists. You think, for a split second of panic, that he means to push you away and close himself off the way he usually does; instead, his thumbs rub tenderly at your palms, the action so gentle and unlike him that it makes your breath stall.

Instinctively your gaze meets his, forgetting (as you often did) just how big he actually was. Tall, broad, and deliciously toned; when you thought of Scott, you thought of him behind a desk, not running laps around his neighborhood and clocking in hours at the gym. Your uniforms did an amazing job of hiding his physique, but it’s impossible to ignore now. His black undershirt clings to him like a second skin and reveals the hard, taut muscles of his body, further evidence of the control he wielded so effortlessly.

His eyes search yours, the intoxicating scent of his cologne enveloping you. You’ve never seen him so open before, and as his hands smooth down your arms to the curve of your waist, there’s a sense of urgency in his touch that he doesn’t vocalize.

Fear. Longing. Desire. His jaw sets again as his gaze drops to your mouth, and you think, for one terrifying moment, that he won’t do it. Would he regain his composure, push you away, then act like nothing had happened the next morning? His brows furrow, as if reading your thoughts. Maybe you’d be reassigned just to avoid the awkwardness of it all. Scott could send you packing with just a phone call.

Your heart pounds, frozen in place, each second lasting an eternity. His fingers flex on your waist, the electrifying touch causing your lips to part and your lashes to flutter. The sight makes his throat bob.

“God damn it,” he groans, his voice guttural.

It’s the only warning you get before his mouth descends onto yours. Though his lips are smooth, there’s nothing gentle about the way Scott kisses you. His mouth moves hungrily against yours, devouring and demanding and all-consuming, like you’re the very air he needs to breathe. You sigh, aching for more, that dull fire inside you growing hotter at the groan that escapes him. As he fists a hand in your hair, he wraps a strong arm around your middle to pull you closer, deepening the kiss.

“Scott…” Bunching his shirt in your hands, you’re helpless when he nips at your bottom lip, pulling desperate, needy sounds from you. As he trails hot open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, finding every spot with ease, his fingers wrap gently around your throat, your pulse racing against his thumb.

“God, I’ve wanted you like this for months,” Scott murmurs against your skin, his voice a low growl that makes your thighs clench. A soft moan escapes as you tilt your head to give him better access, his noise of approval rumbling deep in his throat. “I’ve dreamt of this.”

He presses you into the wall behind you as he ravages your neck, all teeth and tongue and the kind of marks that you’ll have to find excuses for in the morning. A shiver sends you arching up into him, fingers slipping into his hair as he palms your breast, lowering his mouth to suck a greedy mark there. You whine at the friction you’re missing, hips circling the air, desperately hooking your fingers into his belt loops to drag him closer.

“Shhh,” Scott pauses to hitch your leg up, slotting his knee between your thighs. Dark blue eyes drink in the sight of you as he squeezes your ass, a cocky smile spreading on his pink and swollen lips. “I know, sweetheart. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” You mewl when his knee brushes against your heat, enough to have you rolling helplessly against him but not enough to satisfy your desires. “So pretty, so desperate.”

“Yes,” You grip him harder for some semblance of a tether, that condescending, degrading voice only adding fuel to the fire. Did he know what you fantasized about late at night? The shower running to muffle your moans while you touched yourself to his deep voice, lecturing you over a simple mistake? Open desire swirls in your eyes, pleading now, every want laid bare for him. “Please, I want it.”

Scott’s low noise of approval sounds in his throat, pressing closer to give you what you need. You’d be half-ashamed at the way you eagerly grind against him if his own arousal wasn’t hard against your hip, straining, large and throbbing with every roll of your hips. The material of your panties do nothing to stop the delicious ache of his worn jeans against your clit, too many pieces of fabric between you, trying to quiet pretty sounds as you bite your lip.

“Look at you,” Scott growls, your dress inching higher as he seizes your hips, helping you find a rhythm. Hooking the lace of your panties under his fingers, he tugs the material up tight enough together to elicit a hiss, a dimple playing at the corner of his mouth as he smirks, “Is this all for me, baby?”

Barely managing a nod, you meet his eyes through thick lashes and whimper at the expression on his face. That intense gaze drinks in every inch of you like you’re a piece of art and the last thing he wants to remember, his usually stormy eyes hazy with desire.

“God damn... You just can’t get enough, can you, baby? When you touch yourself at night, do you think about me? Rubbing that needy little pussy on your pillow ‘cause you just can’t help it?” You press harder into him in response, his answering laugh dark against your ear. “But it’s never enough, is it? You always crave more, something thicker, something stronger.”

You whine against the loss of contact as he drops his knee, the sting of your panties snapping against your skin quickly forgotten when he trails his digits along the swell of your mouth. You open up greedily, the salty taste of his skin on your tongue intoxicating as you wrap your lips around him. 

“I bet you look so pretty,” he continues, his voice ragged, “Spread out like a top dollar whore with your cunt in the air, gagging on your fingers and wishing it were me. Wondering how many you need to suck on to fill you up just right. How many do you think, baby? Two? More?”

Scott pulls his fingers out with a pop, nuzzling against you as you try to remember to breathe. “Would you even be able to use that brain of yours, baby? Or would you be so fucking desperate to fill your hole that you’d use however many fit?”

He hikes up your dress while he pushes his hand in your panties, fingers slipping through your soaked folds. Fuck. He slowly circles your clit, stealing the breath from your lungs as you arch up into him. “Oh, I know, sweetheart. It doesn’t feel like this, does it?”

Not even close. Worst of all, you weren’t even sure if Scott knew just how true it was. Other men may have excited you, but nothing compared to this — not you, not the others you took to your bed, not even the fantasy Scott you envisioned. You buck helplessly against him, eager for more, whimpering out some sort of half-reply as you grip his wrist in a pathetic effort to keep him there.

Scott just grins. “What’s wrong, baby? Am I going too slow for you?” When he softens his touch, your nails dig into his skin, leaving little crescent moon marks. Lips desperately search for his, your eyes half-lidded and hazy. “I knew you’d be greedy,” he hums, gripping you roughly by the chin, his thumb swiping over your parted lips. “Letting me play with your pussy like this, where anyone could walk out and see how much of a slut you’re being.”

You bite back a moan as you remember where you are, glancing frantically at the door like it might open any second. Your pulse skyrockets when he resumes teasing, circling your clit then dipping down to press at your entrance. Fingers close around the fabric of his shirt, meaning to push him away and only pulling him closer with another desperate whine. “Scott, please…”

“Fuck.” There’s a dark look that flashes across his face, voice rough and ragged, and you watch, with nothing to shield his gaze, as his control snaps.

Sliding his hand over your mouth, it’s the only warning you get before he sinks a thick digit into your weeping cunt. The growl that escapes him when you automatically clench around it only makes you wetter, paralyzed with lust as he works you into pliancy. You pant, chest heaving, as he finds a steady rhythm that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head, every moan muffled against the palm of his hand as you arch into his touch.

You cry out when he adds a second finger, rocking your hips desperately as he angles his hand just right to rub against your clit. “Harder— Please, more—” The words are strangled, spilling out of you mindlessly now, unable to think beyond the way Scott stretches you out. You grab a fistful of his hair as he groans against your neck, dragging teeth and tongue along your skin, freeing your breasts from your dress before covering your mouth again.

“So god damned sexy,” he growls, quick to lap at your hardened nipples, the flat of his tongue spilling another pretty sound from your throat. He curls his digits deeper inside you, the wet schlick of your heat loud in your ears as he sets a brutal pace, switching his attention to your other neglected nipple.

Breath hot against your skin, Scott relishes how you become putty in his hands, holding onto him for support as he strokes that burning fire in you.

“Perfect fucking tits. Perfect fucking pussy. Jesus, sweetheart,” he nips at your skin, soothing the bite with his tongue. “Is this what you like? Being used like my own personal fucktoy? What would the others think if they saw you right now, fucking yourself stupid on me like a bitch in heat?”

He slips his fingers out long enough for you to beg, his smile dark against your skin while you whimper in desperation — and then he’s pushing back into you, stretching your hole with every rough thrust of his fingers. “Hear that, sweetheart? Even your body knows it’s meant to be mine.”

Scott kisses you hungrily as he drops his free hand to your breast, pinching your nipple hard enough to make you scream. His fingers slick harder into you, his cock thick and grinding into your hip while you try to breathe against his storm, your own control slipping as you fist his dark curls in your hands, looking for leverage.

“That’s it,” he growls, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. “This is my fucking pussy, isn’t it, baby? You wanna cum for me? Let the whole bar know you’re my toy to play with?”

“Please, please, please—” You can’t think beyond the brutal pace he’s set, not even sure that your voice sounds human as you babble, eyes big and watering. “Wanna cum for you, please, I need it—”

“You need it?” You gasp as the pain on your nipple subsides only for him to pinch the other, something dark and destructive swirling heavy in his blue eyes. You shiver at the expression, the carnal desire written so clearly over his face, every word out of his mouth deep, commanding, leaving no room for debate. “I’ll tell you when you get to cum. This is mine.” Pressing the heel of his palm hard against your clit, he watches with glee as you clamp down on your bottom lip to keep from screaming, obeying his command even as your body fights.

Your knees nearly buckle at the growl in his voice. Every thrust of his fingers brings you closer to the edge, the heat overwhelming. How many nights had you spent with your fingers in your cunt, picturing scenario after scenario of him taking you in the van, in the bathroom, on his desk after hours? 

“Say it,” Scott insists. “Tell me you’re mine.”

You meet his gaze, the intensity of it nearly sending you over the edge. “I’m yours,” you say, caught between a moan and something stronger, your words choking off.

“Again.” His expression tightens, picking up speed. “Louder.”

“I’m yours!” Your body trembles with the effort to stay upright, writhing against him. The words feel like a vow, your grip on Scott tight as you sob them into him. “My pussy is yours, my body is yours— Just a pathetic, dirty, worthless hole for you to fuck— Fuck, Scott, please—”

Scott growls in response, fisting his hand in your hair as finds the spongey spot inside of you. His digits work you hard, the veins in his arms on display as you bite back a scream, waiting, begging, needing. “Cum,” he grunts, the sound of his fingers driving into you loud and damning, “That’s it, sweetheart. Cum for me.”

You fall over the edge hard and fast, crying out as all the tension from the night finally snaps. It feels like an eternity as he continues fucking you through it, every filthy promise spelled out clearly with his lips at your ear.

By the time you come crashing back down, you’re shaking and empty, blinking back stars as Scott steps back. “Oh my god,” you gasp, fighting to catch your breath, mind still a mess as you try to piece together everything that happened. “That was…”

You watch, mesmerized, as Scott sucks his fingers into his mouth, a groan of approval sounding deep in his throat. And when he squeezes at his bulge straining against his zipper, your core clenches tight at the thought of his weight on top of yours, fucking you into submission again and again until he gets his fill.

“Just the beginning,” Scott promises, stepping toward you to tilt your chin up, his free hand coming down to tighten around your soaked panties and pull. They rip easily in his strong grasp, his grin triumphant as he stuffs them into his back pocket. “You won’t be needing these anymore.”

“Why?” Your body tenses with anticipation, noting the defined dimple in his cheek, the kind of grin he only wore when he was about to be incredibly, infuriatingly smug.

“Because,” he hums, full of condescension, “I didn’t hear a thank you.”

Before you can fix your mistake, Scott silences you with a kiss, his mouth patronizingly gentle as a wicked laugh sounds in the back of his throat. “Don’t worry,” he says, dropping another chaste kiss to your mouth, your nose, the space between your creased brows. “It won’t happen again. I’ll teach you, sweetheart.”

Goosebumps rise on your flesh as Scott adjusts your dress to cover your exposed body, the act so gentle and unbecoming that you freeze enough to let him. The moment only lasts a minute, your eyes meeting as he squeezes the curve of your ass when he’s done, all that vulnerability you had seen locked away again, like he’s guarding himself as reality comes back to life.

A muscle feathers in his jaw as his gaze shifts from you to the back door you’d spilled from. You’ve known Scott long enough by now to know he won’t be the one to say what’s hanging in the air. It would be easier, safer, to walk back in like nothing had happened and return to the motel alone, hitching a ride with anyone other than Scott the next morning.

But if you turn away now, you’ll never see that side of him again: the side that stayed up with you when he could be sleeping, the kind that comforted you without words, the kind that lit your world on fire with every bruising mark he’d left on you. The chance of knowing the man behind the mask.

You don’t miss the way his muscles tense under your touch as you reach for him or the flash of relief that flickers through him. “You think I’m teachable?” You ask, turning big eyes up at him, begging him to see the way you lay yourself bare for him — hoping, praying, that he doesn’t turn you down even still.

“I’m not an easy teacher.” He says, low, still guarded. Still giving you one last out.

You shake your head, a laugh tumbling out. His throat bobs at the sound. “I don’t want easy.” The truth of that hangs heavy in the air, zipping between the two of you as recognition passes through his eyes. “Now are you driving, or am I?”

A faint smile tugs at the corner of his mouth before he presses his tongue into his cheek and takes a step back. “My van, my rules,” he says, his voice softer now but still firm, and you hear the familiar rumble of the Storm Par van coming to life. His keys jingle in his hand as he adds, “You should know that by now.”

You bite your lip, suppressing a smile, and follow him out of the alleyway.

You did know. And as you settle into the passenger seat, the scent of the van enveloping you — a mix of old leather and Scott’s cologne — anticipation crackles in the air. The night stretches ahead, full of unspoken possibilities.

You couldn’t wait to test how far those rules went... and just how much you both were willing to bend them.

[ruewritesoccasionally]

Caught In The Act | Terry Richmond

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black Reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, masturbation (f), use of toys, voyeurism, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, squirting, dirty talk, teasing, choking, power dynamics

Summary: A stressful week, a late-night release, and thin walls lead to her wildest fantasy—or is it reality—when her neighbour Terry intervenes.

Word count: 1.5K

a/n: chapter 4 of the reunion is underway but i'm procrastinating because writing a series kills me - i warned y'all lol 😩😩 but enjoy this nonetheless

The week had been unforgiving. Every deadline, every expectation, every passive-aggressive email seemed designed to crush her resolve. By Friday evening, she was a coiled spring of stress and frustration. The bourbon in her glass offered some solace, the amber liquid warming her from the inside out as she leaned against the kitchen counter. But it wasn’t enough—not nearly enough—to ease the tension thrumming beneath her skin.

She’d seen him earlier that day, crossing the car park with his toolbox in hand. Terry Richmond, the maintenance man for the complex, had a way of moving that felt unhurried yet commanding, as if the world bent to accommodate him. His low-cut black hair gleamed under the evening sun, and his stormy grey-green eyes seemed to see more than they should. He was a walking distraction, with broad shoulders that tested the seams of his work shirts and a voice that lingered like a touch.

She shook her head, trying to dispel the image of him. But as she wandered back into her bedroom, the thought of Terry lingered, simmering just beneath the surface. Setting her glass on the nightstand, she opened the top drawer, fingers brushing over the sleek contours of her favourite toy. Tonight, she wasn’t going to wait for relief to find her.

The dim light of her bedroom cast long shadows on the walls as she settled back against the pillows. The first hum of the rose-shaped vibrator sent a shiver through her, the tension in her body slowly unwinding as she focused on the sensations. Her free hand roamed over her skin, seeking out every nerve that cried for attention. The stress of the week melted away with every gasp, every arch of her back.

She didn’t hear him at first. The walls were thin, yes, but she was lost in her own world, her soft moans carrying through the quiet apartment. Terry heard them, though. Sitting on his sofa, he’d been nursing a beer when the muffled sounds reached his ears. At first, he thought it was the television, but when he muted it, the unmistakable cadence of pleasure became clearer. His brows lifted in surprise, a slow smirk curving his lips.

Curiosity got the better of him. Setting his beer aside, he crossed the hall, standing outside her door. He stood, his beer abandoned on the counter, and moved to his door. It was late, but curiosity—and something darker—drove him. He’d always noticed her in passing: the way her hips swayed when she walked, the curve of her smile when she greeted him, and those moments when she’d look at him just a little too long. Now, she was practically begging him to come over, her cries cutting through the stillness of the night.

 He could hear her more distinctly now, and the heat pooling in his stomach was undeniable. He knocked once, then twice, but there was no answer. The sounds continued, unabated, and something in him stirred—a mixture of mischief and possession. He reached for the master key on his keyring, rationalising it as a neighbourly duty. After all, what if she needed help?

The door opened silently, and Terry stepped inside. The living room was dark, the faint glow from her bedroom spilling into the hallway. He followed the sounds, his pulse quickening as he neared the source. When he reached the doorway, he froze, his breath catching in his throat. “You’re filthy, aren’t you?” he muttered under his breath, a dark chuckle slipping free. “Giving me this kind of show.”

He let himself in, the faint scent of her perfume mingling with something heady and warm. The sight stopped him in his tracks: she was bare, utterly exposed, her dark skin glistening in the soft light. One hand gripped the sheets, the other guiding the toy between her thighs as it hummed against her slick heat. Her head was thrown back, lips parted as soft cries spilled from her. Terry’s eyes darkened, his grip tightening on the doorframe. He couldn’t stop himself; his free hand slid down to palm himself through his sweatpants, the sight before him stirring a hunger he hadn’t felt in a long time. His breath caught when she let out a desperate moan, her back arching.

She was close—he could tell by the way her body tensed, the way her cries grew higher, needier. He stepped further into the room, his presence finally cutting through her haze of pleasure.

“I knew you were keeping something sweet behind these walls,” he finally said, his voice teasing, cutting through the haze of her pleasure. “But this? You’ve been keeping this from me? Naughty girl.”

“Enjoying yourself?” His voice was low, rough, and it hit her like a jolt of electricity.

Her eyes flew open, and she scrambled to cover herself, mortification colouring her cheeks. “T-Terry?” she stammered, reaching for the nearest blanket.

He stepped closer, his eyes dark and unrelenting. “Don’t,” he commanded, his voice soft but firm. “You’re going to ruin the view.”

She froze, her heart pounding. He moved to the edge of the bed, towering over her, his presence overwhelming. “You know there’s more to my job than being the handyman, right?” he murmured, his tone laced with innuendo. “If you needed help, all you had to do was ask.”

Her mouth opened, then closed, words failing her as he stepped closer. His gaze raked over her, dark and intent, and she felt exposed in more than one way.

“Now,” he continued, his voice laced with amusement, “you’ve got two options. I can stand here, and you can finish putting on that little show for me. Or,” he leaned down, his face inches from hers, “I can really make you feel good. Your choice.”

Her breath hitched, her body betraying her as his words sent a fresh wave of arousal coursing through her. Her thighs clenching instinctively. She didn’t trust herself to speak, so she simply nodded, her lips parted.

“Good girl,” he purred, his hand sliding up to her throat, applying the faintest pressure. “You like that? Being handled like this?”

A whimper escaped her lips, and he smirked, leaning down to capture her mouth in a searing kiss. He tasted of beer and sin, his tongue dominating hers as he pressed her into the mattress. His hand trailed down her body, teasing, until he found the vibrator still buzzing against her clit.

“You can’t handle it, can you?” he taunted, his voice a growl against her ear. “You’re shaking, but you’re not begging me to stop, are you?”

He alternated between the toy and his fingers, driving her to the brink again and again. With the sheets soaked, her thighs trembling and tears pricking her eyes, he finally relented, pulling her hips to the edge of the bed. He positioned himself between her legs, his dick thick and hard as he slid into her, inch by agonising inch.

Her nails dug into his arms as he began to move, each thrust deliberate and punishing. He pinned her wrists above her head, his grip firm but not painful, and growled, “You’ve been doing this with me right next door? Thinking about me while you fuck yourself? Don’t worry—I’ll make sure you don’t need to be by yourself again.”

His eyes never leaving hers. “Now, let’s see what you’ve been hiding from me.”

The night unfolded in a haze of pleasure and command, Terry’s touch igniting every nerve in her body. He teased her relentlessly, alternating between strokes, his mouth and the toy, pushing her to the brink again and again. His voice was a constant, low rumble in her ear, praising her, taunting her, claiming her.

He took her body as if he owned it, she was a trembling mess, every nerve alight with overstimulation. The world narrowed to the feel of him, the weight of his body, the rough timbre of his voice as he murmured filthy promises against her skin. His rhythm grew relentless, his hand sliding to her throat again as his other thumb circled her clit. When she shattered around him, crying out his name, he followed, spilling into her with a low, guttural groan.

The room was shrouded by silence except for their ragged breathing. But just as the pleasure began to fade, she woke with a gasp, her hand buried between her legs and the vibrator buzzing against her clit. Her chest heaved as she came back to herself, the haze lifting—and with it, reality came crashing in.

She wasn’t in Terry’s arms. She was alone, sprawled on her bed, the toy still humming weakly in her hand. Her climax had been real, but the rest? A vivid, all-consuming dream. She blinked, disoriented, her heart still racing as the echoes of her fantasy lingered.

A knock at the door shattered the quiet, and her breath caught. Pulling on her robe, she padded to the door, her pulse pounding in her ears. When she opened it, Terry stood there, a familiar smirk playing on his lips.

“Evening,” he drawled, his eyes sweeping over her. “Everything alright in there?”

For a moment, she couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. Her heart thundered in her chest as she met his gaze, her fantasy and reality colliding in a way that left her breathless. Maybe reality was about to be even better than the dream…

taglist: @writingsbytee @venusincleo (i am behind on editing the taglist because there's a few more people who want to be added to it but let me know if you wanna join it as well)

comments and reblogs are appreciated as well as feedback, i hope you liked it 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

[bunny-jpeg]

Hi bunny, could I get a vanilla cheesecake with some tea please. Also make it a Norris fic

the bakery menu

thank you for the lovely order! there are still loads of tasty treats still on the menu, so please feel free to submit your own!

vanilla cheesecake ("where are your manners?") + tea (semi-public/public sex) served by lando norris (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, semi-public sex, slight dom/sub, clothed sex, quiet sex, quick sex, praise kink,

it all started at a bar in bristol. you were in lando's old stomping ground. you were a little drunk talking amongst some of lando's old childhood friends.

you were pressed up against your boyfriend and felt the comforting weight on your shoulders from his arm across them. he was a comforting presence next to you. but you had to depart from his side as your glass was empty.

"i'm gonna get another one." you said as you tapped the rim of the beer glass before you got up. you were thankful that you weren't wearing heels or you'd probably cause an incident. you could feel lando's heavy gaze on you as you strode up to the bar and put both arms on top of the wood, "another brewdog, ipa."

you felt a hand on your lower back, you were about to give whoever was touching you a swift punch when you looked over and saw it was your boyfriend.

"where are your manners?" he asked with his lips close to your ear, "i thought i told you to be a good girl." he chuckled a little, "and here you are being so rude to that bartender. that's not the girl i know." he kept his hand on your lower back, a domineering touch to center you. when the bartender came back with the beer, lando's voice was in your ear once more, "say thank you, love."

you looked at the bartender as you picked up the pint glass and said, "thank you so much!" and flashed him a bright smile as if your cheeks and neck weren't burning from your boyfriend's rules.

you were devoted to one another, but there was an additional layer to your relationship. where on the surface you looked like a total it-couple, in the quiet whispers lando was a total dom. and you were his loyal submissive.

you got back to the table and put your drink down before you scurried off to the washroom. a few moments passed before lando said he was going to get a drink. through the densely packed bar, he moved his way through to the back where the washrooms were.

he could feel the heat in his body pool in his gut, his cock strained against his jeans as he knocked on the door of the single stall bathroom.

he looked over his shoulder briefly, no one noticed anything. but then the door opened and you grabbed lando by the front of the shirt to pull him inside. he instantly had his hands on your behind as he pulled you closer to him.

you reached around him to lock the door and you ended up on the sink counter with your skirt pushed up. you felt the heat burn your cheeks and down the back of your neck.

it felt risky and exciting.

"you're such a good girl, even though you've had enough beers." he laughed as he stood in front of you, his hand down his pants as he tried to pull his cock out of his jeans.

"i am a good girl!" you kicked you legs out playfully and devolved into giggles.

he reached over and covered your mouth with his hand, "i know the bar is loud, but there's no need to be even louder. we need to be quiet, love or we're going to make headlines."

the thought of what the press would come up with made your cheeks burn as he hiked up your dress even more. his hands that roamed your thighs made you feel light all over.

"pretty doll." he said, "you look so good at my side. but you have to remember your manners, love." he said with love dipped in his voice. he was a more of a gentle dom.he got your panties down to one ankle and looked at your sweet cunt, "you like this don't you? knowing that anyone could come in and just see me fucking the shit out of you."

you wanted to wrap your arms around your boyfriend, but instead you had to cover your mouth so you weren't so painfully loud. you couldn't help it, you got used to the privacy of lando's home where no one could hear your erotic moans.

but in the semi-public it was a lot harder to keep yourself quiet, especially now that lando was playing with your bare clit. the wetness dampened his thumb and pointer finger. you looked so good, he knew that you could be such a good girl for him.

"now, what do we say when we want something? where are your manners, love?" he asked with a sly smirk.

you swallowed and pulled your hands away from your mouth. it took you a few moments to compose yourself to reply, "please, sir. please, fuck me." you knew this was the worst place to fuck. it was damp and dirty, but the curl in your gut of lust drove you to need to be touched.

"you look good like this, all flustered for me. you look so pretty, the prettiest thing in this entire bar." he could smell the beer on your breath but then again you could probably smell the same on him.

this was probably the worst place to have sex, but there was something about bitter beer that made you two want to jump each other's bones. it wasn't as bad as champagne which had lando's cock buried into you by the time you finished your first glass.

you tried not to think about how dirty the counter was and spread your legs a little further, the dress pushed up enough to show off your pretty pussy to him.

you covered your mouth once more to block out most of the noise. your eyes almost rolled back into your head when lando wasted little time to pushing his cock inside of you.

"sir." you said through your fingers.

he kissed your forehead as he took you by the hips and started to rock into you. normally lando liked to romance you into bed, but right now it had to be brutal and quick.

regardless your wet cunt felt nice around his painfully erect cock. it all felt dirty and hot, the dress stuck to your skin as you started to sweat. you panted through your hands as you tried to keep quiet. lando on the other hand was struggling as well to keep quiet. but there was something about his beautiful girl's pussy that drove him mad.

maybe next time they want to do something semi-public they'll do it on the boat where he could fuck you in peace on the deck and no one could saw a word. shitty little bars in bristol were not the perfect place for a girl like you to be fucked in.

maybe a driver's room or a hotel with nice sheets. he'd maybe even finger you at the event at the end of the season. but right now you looked like a little whore sat on top of the counter with lando thrusting his cock into you.

you wanted to clutch onto him, instead your sweaty back touched the mirror behind you. you leaned back a little and gave him extra room to shove his entire cock into you. you moaned a little bit despite your best efforts. the pleasure felt like it was melting your brain with the aid of all that beer.

"see, i know you can be a good girl. because you're mine and i only have the best. fuck, you're so pretty right now, all fucked out. i know you're going to be sitting back with my friends with my cum stuck to your thigh." he wanted to kiss you so badly, he wanted to feel as close to you as he could.

he wanted all of you, every last inch to every last cell. you were his girl, his beloved. he maintained eye contact as he thrusted into you. he felt the heat in his body, sweat went down his neck.

you whimpered through your hands and panted heavily, you looked hot in every sense of the word. orgasm was close and you tried to meet lando's thrust. you couldn't hold it in much longer and grabbed your lover by the shoulders and pulled him in for a hot kiss so you could hold him while being quiet.

you groaned into the kiss as he continued to rut against you. your core felt soaked and it was evident by how wet lando's cock was. you relaxed against the wall and still reached out to hold his shoulders.

"that's my girl." he said, "what do we say when you get to cum?"

"thank you, sir."

he kissed your sweaty forehead and gave a few more jerky thrusts before he finished inside of you. he slowed down his movements and had to brace his hands on either side of you on the counter so he could steady himself from the strong orgasm.

"oh fuck." he mumbled to himself between heavy pants. he was thankful that the rest of the bar was as loud as it was. he kissed you passionately on the lips before he helped you back into your panties and straightened out the skirt of your dress.

you pulled him in for one last kiss before you got off the counter with shaky legs. but lando kept you close, the leftover pleasure and the presence of alcohol made you a little dizzy.

he kept you close to him, the smell of his body spray left you yearning for more. he noticed this and said, "someone has been such a good girl for me. why don't we pay everyone's bill and get home? i don't think we're quite done."

you couldn't help yourself, you nodded eagerly. you were always willing to be on your best behaviour for your lando <3

[callsigns-haze]

2 3 make 3 4

Summary: After months of messing around with one of Penny's bartenders a knock and a ditch may have changed the couples life forever.

Pairing: Bradley x Jake x Reader

Warning: This story contains mature themes, including explicit sexual content and pregnancy.

The familiar sound of cue balls clicking together echoed through The Hard Deck, blending seamlessly with the hum of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter. Behind the bar, you worked efficiently, sliding beers across the counter and topping off margaritas, your hands moving almost instinctively. It was a busy night, but you thrived on it. The tips were good, the energy was infectious, and Penny trusted you to hold the fort.

You were wiping down the counter when you noticed him. Bradley Bradshaw. Rooster, as his friends called him. His sun-streaked hair caught the dim light as he weaved through the crowd, his Hawaiian shirt loud enough to draw attention but not enough to distract from the confident ease of his walk. He smiled as he approached the bar, and even before he reached you, you knew he had that look in his eye.

"Hey, YN," Bradley greeted, leaning on the bar. His deep voice was warm, familiar, laced with just enough flirtation to send a shiver down your spine.

"Bradley," you replied smoothly, meeting his gaze. "What can I get you?"

He glanced over his shoulder briefly, scanning the room before turning back to you. His lips curved into that knowing smile, the one you'd seen far too many times by now.

"Two lagers and a whiskey neat," he said, then paused, letting the words hang in the air just long enough to make you curious. "And… are you free tonight?"

Your heart skipped a beat, but you didn't let it show. Instead, you arched an eyebrow, busying yourself with pouring the beers. "Is Jake in on this, or are you going rogue?"

Bradley chuckled, the sound low and teasing. "You know I wouldn't dream of stepping out of line. He's been asking about you, actually."

The beers were ready, and you placed them on the counter, taking your time as you poured the whiskey. "I thought you two were supposed to be planning a wedding," you teased, your voice light but your pulse quickening.

"We are," Bradley admitted, leaning a little closer. "But you know how we like to keep things… interesting."

Your breath hitched, memories of past nights flashing through your mind. The three of you had a rhythm, an understanding that went unspoken but never unappreciated. Jake’s sharp confidence and Bradley’s easy charm were a combination you could never quite resist.

"I close up at midnight," you said, sliding the whiskey toward him. "You know where to find me."

Bradley’s grin widened, and he tapped the counter lightly before picking up the drinks. "See you then."

You watched as he walked away, his shoulders relaxed, his stride easy. Your heart was pounding in a way that had nothing to do with the busy night.

Midnight couldn’t come fast enough.

---

The faint glow of the living room’s dim lighting cast long shadows on the walls, giving the space an intimate, almost dreamlike feel. You barely had a chance to take in the surroundings before Jake’s hands were on you, firm yet teasing, guiding you back until your shoulders met the cool surface of the wall.

"Missed you," he murmured, his voice a low drawl that sent heat pooling in your stomach. His green eyes gleamed with mischief as his lips brushed the corner of your mouth, deliberately just shy of a kiss.

"Jake," you whispered, your breath hitching.

Before you could say more, Bradley’s larger frame moved in from the side, his presence grounding yet electric. His fingers tilted your chin toward him, and his lips captured yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, as if savouring the moment. Jake chuckled softly at your reaction, his hands skimming down your sides, the friction sending a shiver through you.

"You always get her first," Jake teased Bradley, his tone light but laced with playful competitiveness.

"Someone has to make sure she’s warmed up," Bradley replied, his voice rumbling against your lips as he pulled back just enough to speak.

Your head tilted back against the wall as Jake’s lips found the curve of your neck, his stubble scraping in a way that sent sparks down your spine. You could feel his smirk against your skin, the kind of confidence that made it impossible to resist him. Bradley’s hands slid down to your hips, anchoring you as his mouth trailed along your jawline, each touch of their lips igniting a fire that left you breathless.

"Think she missed us?" Jake murmured against your ear, his voice a tantalizing mix of amusement and desire.

"Why don’t we ask her?" Bradley said, his hands tightening slightly on your hips, his lips hovering just above yours.

Your breath came in shallow bursts as you tried to form words, but the intensity of their attention left you speechless. Jake pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his grin wicked.

"Don’t worry, darlin’. We’ve got all night to remind you."

Your breath hitched as Bradley’s lips ghosted over yours, his blue eyes locking onto yours with a mix of warmth and mischief. He leaned in closer, so close that his words brushed against your lips like a caress.

“Speechless already?” he teased, his voice low and rich, sending a thrill through you.

Before you could respond, Jake’s hands slid from your hips to your waist, his touch confident and deliberate. He was just as smug, his voice dripping with that signature southern drawl. “Guess she doesn’t need to answer, Roo. We’ve got all the proof we need right here.”

The heat of their attention was almost overwhelming. Bradley kissed the corner of your mouth, the lightest of touches that left you aching for more. Jake, meanwhile, trailed his lips along your neck, the sensation a maddening mix of softness and the rough graze of his stubble.

“Look at you,” Jake murmured, his tone playful yet reverent. “All pinned up like this. You could’ve said no, you know.”

His words earned a sharp breath from you, and you felt the warmth of Bradley’s laugh vibrate against your skin. “But she didn’t,” Bradley added, his lips finding the hollow of your throat, placing a lingering kiss there.

You felt your knees weaken, the wall behind you your only anchor as their combined teasing unravelled you. Jake pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his grin cocky. “Careful, darlin’. Don’t go melting on us too soon.”

You managed a breathy laugh, though your voice came out softer than you intended. “You’re both impossible.”

“And yet,” Bradley said, his hands cupping your face as his lips brushed yours again, slow and tantalizing, “here you are.”

Jake’s hand slid to your chin, tilting your face toward him as he claimed your lips, his kiss a stark contrast to Bradley’s. It was firmer, demanding in the best way, leaving you dizzy. When he pulled away, his green eyes were alight with mischief.

“Think we’ve got her flustered enough?” Jake asked, glancing at Bradley, though his hands stayed firmly on you, ensuring you had no escape.

Bradley leaned back slightly, his gaze sweeping over you with deliberate slowness. “Not even close.”

You didn’t even notice when Bradley’s hands slipped beneath your thighs until you felt yourself being lifted, your back still pressed against the wall. A surprised gasp escaped you, but his grip was secure, strong, and undeniably confident.

“Easy there,” he said, his tone dripping with amusement as he adjusted you in his arms. “We’ve got you.”

Jake stepped back just enough to make room, his eyes scanning you with a playful hunger that made your cheeks flush. “Carrying her off already, Roo?” he teased, though his hand found its way to your knee, sliding up your leg in a way that made your breath hitch.

“Someone has to do the heavy lifting,” Bradley shot back, grinning as he began to move, effortlessly carrying you away from the wall.

Jake followed close behind, his fingers trailing lazily along your calf as he walked. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t act like you’re not showing off,” he drawled, his smirk widening when you gave him a glare that lacked any real heat.

You were dimly aware of the living room fading behind you, the hallway to their bedroom stretching ahead. The steady rhythm of Bradley’s steps and Jake’s low chuckle in your ear only added to the heady anticipation curling in your stomach.

As you reached the doorway, Jake stepped ahead to push it open, pausing to glance over his shoulder. “Think you can handle this, Bradshaw? Don’t want you dropping her before we’ve even started.”

Bradley snorted, the sound vibrating through you. “You’re hilarious, Seresin.” He carried you into the room with ease, his lips brushing your temple in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.

Jake shut the door behind him with a quiet click, the sound punctuating the shift in the air. The energy was different here—more focused, more intimate. Bradley laid you gently on the bed, his hands lingering for just a moment before Jake joined him, standing beside him with a look that promised the teasing was far from over.

“You comfortable, sweetheart?” Jake asked, his drawl softer now as he leaned over you, his hand brushing a stray hair from your face.

You gave a faint nod, your heart pounding as you looked between the two of them. “I think so,” you managed, your voice breathy but steady enough to make Jake grin.

Bradley leaned down, his lips brushing yours once more before he pulled back just enough to speak. “Good. Because we’re not done with you yet.”

You gasp as Jake and Bradley's hands roam over your body. “You like that, don't you angel?” Jake murmurs in your ear. His fingers ghost along your inner thigh as Bradley kisses down your neck.

“Please,” you whimper.

“Please what?” Bradley teases, nipping at your collarbone.

“I need you both,” you moan.

Jake reaches for the lube. “We've got you, baby,” he says, slicking himself up. Bradley follows suit. You cry out in pleasure as they slowly enter you together, stretching you deliciously. “Oh god,” you pant as they begin to move in tandem.

“So tight,” Jake groans.

“So good,” Bradley echoes.

Jake and Bradley establish a steady rhythm, their hips rolling in perfect synchronization. Jake's thick length slides against your slick walls as Bradley fills you from behind. The fullness is exquisite.

“Harder,” you beg. They oblige eagerly, increasing their pace. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room.

Jake's fingers dig into your hips as he drives into you forcefully. Bradley's chest is pressed against your back, his lips and teeth marking your shoulder.

“You feel amazing,” Jake pants. His thumb finds your sensitive nub and begins rubbing tight circles.

The pressure builds rapidly as Jake and Bradley drive into you relentlessly. Your entire body tingles with pleasure, every nerve ending alight. Jake's skilled fingers on your most sensitive spot send jolts of electricity through you with each pass.

“I'm so close,” you gasp.

“Let go,” Bradley growls in your ear. “We want to feel you come undone.”

Their words and movements push you over the edge. The dam breaks and waves of intense pleasure crash over you. Your inner walls clamp down on them as your release gushes forth, coating their lengths.

Jake groans as your wetness drenches him. “That's it, drench us,” he whimpers.

Your body quakes uncontrollably as the orgasm rolls through you. More fluid rushes out with each pulse, soaking the sheets beneath you.

Your pulsing walls trigger their release. Jake erupts first, his hot seed painting your insides. Bradley follows seconds later, his cock throbbing as he empties himself deep within you. Their simultaneous climaxes prolong your own ecstasy.

“Oh god, yes,” you moan, feeling their warm essence filling you.

Aftershocks ripple through your body. Each tremor squeezes more of their cum from their shafts. The mixture of your combined fluids leaks out around their lengths, trickling down your thighs.

Panting heavily, Jake slowly withdraws. The sudden emptiness makes you whimper. You feel a gush of fluid follow his exit, spilling onto the already soaked sheets.

Bradley lingers a moment longer, savouring the last quivers of your pussy around him. When he finally pulls out with just his words he could make you cum again. “God, I've missed our little pet.”

---

Nine months had passed since you’d last stepped into their home. Since that night when everything had changed, when the three of you had been tangled in desire, a bond that seemed as much about exploration as it was about connection. Since then, Jake and Bradley’s life had moved forward in a way that felt solid and full, but also quieter—like a piece of their puzzle was missing.

It hadn’t been intentional, the distance that grew between them and you. They knew that. But you had vanished without a trace, no message, no explanation. It was a soft pain that lingered, a void neither of them could quite fill. They had their life together—married for six months now—but they still thought of you, often.

Tonight was one of those evenings when they simply needed to be with each other. The living room was dim, the soft glow of the TV screen casting light across the room. The scent of fresh popcorn lingered in the air, but the warmth between them was what kept them anchored. Bradley lay on his back, one arm draped lazily over the back of the couch, while Jake nestled into his side, his legs draped over Bradley’s. They were quiet, the world outside of their small bubble fading away.

A romantic comedy was playing on the screen—a sappy, predictable one with just enough cheesy lines to make them groan. The plot didn’t matter; it was the feeling that hung in the air. The closeness between them. The subtle touches, the way Jake’s fingers traced the outline of Bradley’s chest, the way Bradley’s lips brushed the top of Jake’s head every few minutes.

“Think we’ll ever get a romcom ending?” Jake asked, his voice low and teasing, but there was a soft undertone to it. The kind that made Bradley pause and think for a moment.

Bradley chuckled, shifting just enough to kiss the top of Jake’s head. “If we did, it’d probably involve some kind of epic disaster before the happy ending.”

“True,” Jake agreed, nuzzling into his shoulder, the slight rise and fall of Bradley’s chest calming him. “But hey, that’s the fun part. Watching it all unfold.”

“Mm,” Bradley hummed, his hand gently resting on Jake’s thigh, fingers stroking lightly. The TV played on in the background, but it was more of a soundtrack to the warmth between them than anything else.

There was no mention of you, no mention of the emptiness that had lingered since you left. They both felt it, but tonight wasn’t about that. It was about the now. About the comfort they found in each other, the steady rhythm of their hearts. Jake shifted slightly, turning his head up toward Bradley.

“You know,” Jake said softly, his lips curling into a teasing smile, “this is nice. Just us, no distractions.”

Bradley smiled back, his thumb running gently over Jake’s hand. “It is. But don’t get used to it. You know Nat’s been begging us to come by. She thinks we’re avoiding her.”

Jake snorted. “As if we could ever avoid Phoenix. We’ll go by next weekend, promise.” He leaned in, his lips brushing Bradley’s jaw in a quick, affectionate kiss.

Bradley’s arm tightened around him, pulling him a little closer. “Mm, I think I can make that wait.” He kissed Jake’s forehead, a soft, tender gesture that spoke volumes more than words could.

The quiet of the evening was broken by a knock on the door. It was unexpected—there were no plans, no guests. Just the soft flicker of the TV and the familiar warmth of being wrapped up in each other’s company.

Bradley and Jake exchanged a glance, a moment of confusion passing between them as the knock echoed again, more insistent this time. The fact that they weren’t expecting anyone made them hesitate for a beat longer than usual, and Bradley shifted slightly, looking down at Jake, who was already settling deeper into the couch.

“You want to get it?” Jake asked, his voice lazy with a teasing edge. He knew Bradley wasn’t keen on answering the door when there was no reason for it.

Bradley smirked, shifting his weight and standing. “You’re closer.” He leaned down to press a quick kiss to Jake’s forehead before turning toward the door. “Probably just some delivery.”

Jake huffed but didn’t protest, instead reaching for the remote as Bradley made his way to the door. A few more moments passed before the sound of the door creaking open reached Jake’s ears. He didn’t even bother to look up from the couch.

But then, he heard Bradley’s voice—sharp and filled with disbelief.

“J-jake… get over here.”

Jake’s heart rate spiked, and he immediately pushed off the couch, a flicker of concern flitting through him. It wasn’t like Bradley to sound so... unsettled.

He crossed the room quickly, his footsteps heavy and rushed. When he reached the door, Bradley was standing at the threshold, staring down at something in disbelief.

Jake followed his gaze, and his breath caught.

There, on the porch, was a baby carrier. A little bundle wrapped in a soft pink blanket, with a small baby bag resting beside it. The carrier was securely fastened, the baby resting peacefully, her face tucked into the plush fabric.

Bradley bent down, his hands shaking slightly as he unbuckled the carrier and gently lifted the baby into his arms. She was small, her tiny face still squished with the softness of a newborn. Jake’s mind was racing, his heart in his throat as he glanced around, expecting—no, hoping—to see someone, anyone. But there was no one.

The front porch was empty.

Jake swallowed hard, staring at the tiny little girl in Bradley’s arms. His gaze flickered to the baby bag that was still on the ground. Without thinking, he bent down to pick it up. As he did, a small piece of paper slipped out from the bag and fluttered to the ground.

He scooped it up quickly, unfolding it. His eyes scanned the note, his breath hitching with each word.

"Congratulations, one of you is a father."

He blinked at the words, confusion and a sinking feeling in his chest. He glanced at Bradley, who was cradling the baby in his arms, his gaze softening as he looked down at her.

Jake didn’t even notice the birth certificate that had fallen out with the note until it caught his attention. His eyes widened as he read the name printed there in clear, official text.

Ella Bradshaw-Seresin.

[stars1997]

Alone with you

Paring(s): Quinn Hughes x Fem! reader

Warnings: SMUT!!! (18+), car sex, unprotected sex, semi public sex, mild hair pulling, desperate Quinn.

(Not edited)

Summary: The lake house has been packed with friends and family. Y/n and Quinn have not been able to have any alone time. The guys ask you to go and pick up some food and drinks for them. When you get back Quinn helps you unload the car. This then leads to you and Quinn in the backseat.

Authors note: thank you guys so much for voting. I will be holding another one soon. but here is the story you guys voted on!

____________________________

You have been staying at the lake house all summer. The whole summer the house has been packed with friends and family. You and Quinn have not been able to have any alone time together. Not even your room is free of people. Poor Luke has to sleep on an air mattress in your and Quinn’s room.

Every time that you do have some alone time together Quinn literally gets pulled away from you. Anytime that you have something planned the other guy’s somehow end up tagging along. You have a date planned, nope that has now become a group hang. Even if they don’t know they somehow find where you are.

You don’t really have a problem with it, the guys always include you in whatever they are pulling Quinn away for. You know that it’s been so long since the boys have gotten to hang out because of their schedules, so you always let them take Quinn away from you. sometimes it just gets frustrating.

_

“Guys I want to hang out with my girlfriend for a bit. Leave us alone.” Quinn says trying to push them away from us. The couch cushion next to you now occupied by Cole. You give him a smile and he’s quick to return it.

Jack grabs Quinn’s hand and try’s pulling him up off the couch.

“Don’t worry Quinn I’ll keep y/n company.” Trevor said as he sits down in between Cole and you.

“No, you won’t dick head. We need an even amount of people for the teams. Y/n can sit on the lounge chairs out there and she can watch you play.” Jack says giving his best puppy dog eyes.

“As long as he’s shirt less.” You say, giving him a smirk. He lets out a little laugh.

“I can be shirtless as well Y/n.” Trevor said, trying to remove his shirt but Luke was quick to pull it back down.

“Seriously dude you got to stop.” Quinn says. Luke gives him a pat on the back.

_

You guys were outside for three hours before the boys were done playing basketball and chose to go swimming instead. Quinn told them that he was going to go change into his bathing suit and that he would be right out.

“Y/n can you go to the store and get us some beers?” Trevor asked you as he takes off his shirts and tosses it onto one of the chairs next to the pool.

“Yeah, and some food too. like chips and dip.” Jack puts his hand on your shoulders.

“Why do I have to be the one that’s going?” You question them. They all look at each other and run and jump into the pool. You throw your hands up to protect yourself from the splash.

“Because we are all in the pool. We don’t want to get the car all wet.” Luke says. You shake your head at them and walk into the house to get your keys. You yell out the back door for them to text you what they want.

“Hey where are you going?” Quinn’s voice stopped you. You turn around to see him walking towards you.

“The Guys asked me to go and pick up some food and drinks for them.” He pulls you into him, his arms wrapping around you.

“Do you want me to come with you?” His thumbs make circles on your back.

“No, its ok. But will you help me unload the car when I get back?” He nods his head, leaning into kiss you.

“It’s been so long baby. I need you so bad. All the guys have been such a huge cockblock, especially Luke because he’s staying in our room.” He try’s pulling you closer to him if that’s even possible. You could feel his boner pressing into your thigh, his swim shorts not doing much to hide it.

His forehead rests on your chest as he continues to hug you. You give him a kiss on the top of his head before you start to pull yourself away from him.

_

When you got back to the house you were quick to text Quinn. It didn’t take him long to meet you outside. He was very quick to unload the car, that it felt like you didn’t even bring anything in. You were still outside at the car closing all the doors when a pair of arms wrapped around you.

Quinn kissed your neck, sucking and biting at it. He turned you around so now your chests are touching. His lips quick to find yours. He pushes you back against the car, his lips still on yours.

“Surprisingly the one thing that we still haven’t crossed off are list, car sex.” He says his lips now on your neck again.

“Yeah, but here? I was thinking more of doing it in the parking garage after winning a game” You can feel his lips move into a smile against your neck.

“Who says that we can’t still do that. But the guys have been driving me crazy, I haven’t gotten a chance to even hang out with you alone for like more than an hour. Its driving me nuts not being able to be alone with you.” His hands run up and down your sides. He pushes his waist into yours.

Your hand reaches for the handle of the door behind you. A smile forms on Quinn’s face again. He’s quick to pull you away from the door, opening it so your able to climb in.

He turns to close the door, turning back to see that you have taken off your shorts and shirt. Leaving you in nothing but the bathing suit you had on underneath.

“Turn around for me baby.” You did as he said. Grabbing your hips and pulling you back into him, his boner now poking your thigh.

He pulls the bathing suit bottoms to the side. One of your hands on the arm rest the other on the window. He takes his cock in his hand, slapping it on your ass a few times before lining himself up.

“Fuck. God baby I’ve missed this it’s been too long. I think I’m going to get us a hotel for the weekend and just fuck you till your dumb.” He thrusts his cock into you hard and slow. His hand reaches around you to play with your clit.

“God Quinn. Please go faster.” Your breath fogs up the glass. The car already starting to feel a lot hotter than when you first got in.

“You’re doing so good for me.” He leans forward kissing your back. His hand still working your clit.

His thrusts pick up speed, the sound of his skin hitting your mixed with heavy breathing are the only thing you can hear. He moves his hand from your clit to grab a handful of your hair, pulling so your back is touching his chest. One of your hands on the head rest the other now on Quinn’s thigh.

Thankfully the house has a long driveway surrounded by trees so no one will be able to see what is going on. The car now moving along with Quinn’s thrusts.

“I’m going to cum. Be a good girl and cum with me.” You nod your head. Your grip on his thigh tightens. You let out a loud moan as your orgasm builds up. He brings your head back to his lips can latch onto your neck. He leaves marks along your neck as he continues to thrust into you.

“Quinn. Yes, keep going. I’m going to cum.” It didn’t take long for you to cum. Quinn’s following right behind yours. He lets out a grunt as he bottoms out, shooting his cum into you. He turns your head and kisses you hard on the lips.

“That’s my good girl. The guys are probably getting suspicious so we should head back inside.” You nod your head.

_

You and Quinn walked inside to see the guys already eating and drinking what you bought them.

“Guys we were just looking for you. we were planning on going to the diner down the road. Do you want to come?” Cole asks. You nod your head sure.

They guys were quick with getting dressed. Everyone making their way into the car. Quinn and you in the front seats the rest of the guys in the back.

“Is it just me or is it sort of muggy in here… wait is that ha handprint on the window?” Trevor says. You let out a little laugh.

“eeeewwww.” They guys all say at the same time when they realized.

[delimeats-000]

Hot and Bothered

matt sturniolo x reader

warning: rough car sex

note: idk man i hope u like it ☠️

─────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────

“ooouu you look hot!!” nick says to me as i walk into the living room.

i do a little spin before facing him again, “thaaanks”

“of course-” he starts talking but matt cuts him off.

“who are you trying to dress up for?”

“no one matthew, we’re going to a party.” i give him attitude knowing that it will only rile him up more.

rolling his eyes he gets up from the couch and goes to his room. minutes later chris is ready to leave and im told to go get matt.

walking into his room i see him sitting at his desk, legs spread as he scrolls through tiktoks. i can’t lie he looks good dressed in all black, but i can’t give in. i have to tease him a little.

“like what you see?” he cuts off my thoughts smiling.

“you wish, we’re ready to leave.”

“you’re really gonna go out looking like that?”

he walks closer to me, now inches away “like what?”

“like a slut.” he whispers.

i grab him by the shirt pulling him in, his jaw drops open and he looks down at me with a growing smirk.

“watch your mouth matthew.” i let go and walk out of the room, leaving him there in shock.

we all pile into the car and head to the party, after being there for a little we all split up into our own groups. out on the floor dancing with some random guy i lock eyes with matt across the room. can of root beer in his hand slightly getting crushed by his tightening grip on it.

i wink at him before turning to the guy i’m dancing with. i grab his hand and turn around, ass pressed against his dick. i begin slowly grinding on him and he grabs my waist with his free hand still dancing along.

i look over to where matt just was and he’s gone now. just then i feel a hand grab mine pulling me out of the crowd.

“MATT” i try getting him to let go.

“we’re leaving.” he almost growls in response.

“no i’m not, get off.”

“fine.” he turns to me, “go ahead and continue dancing on other guys like a whore all night.” he lets go but this time i grab ahold of him.

"are you jelous"

i watch as his adams apple bobs up and down "no" ignoring his blatant lie i drag him to the car, now i can feel myself pooling between my legs.

“open it.” he unlocks the door climbing in the back seat. i follow behind him slamming the door shut before jumping top of him immediately attaching my lips to his.

the kiss is sloppy and wet, the sounds of our lips lapping together only turn me on more. i feel his bulge growing under me, prompting me to grind my hips down onto him.

he lets out soft groan reaching his hands from my waist to my ass, trying to move me faster. i let go of the kiss and he whines. “you’ve been so mean matthew, calling me names.”

“not my fault you dressed like a little slut.”

i slap him across the face, “say it again.”

he looks me dead in the eyes and smiles, “slut.”

i try to grab him by the face, but he grabs my wrist holding tightly. he begins pulling off my dress and i allow him to pull it over my head.

“such a little whore, pretending you don’t want me.” he says free hand rubbing my clit through my underwear, “but you’re so wet for me. why dont you make up for all the teasing?”

i immediately pull his boxers down and his dick springs up, he whines out and the air touching his sensitive length. i grip him spitting right on the tip and rub it in with my thumb “fuck more- i need more”

i slowly stroke him up and down before speeding up, precum drips onto my hand and he cries out. “so close baby, makin me feel so good.”

with that i take him all in my mouth at once bobbing my head rapidly. i gag on him which only causes him to push me down further.

then without warning he grabs me by my hair and pulls me off. “ride me like the slut you are, lemme fill you up.”

“yes matt please” he smiles at the name.

"being such a good girl now." he holds my face gently by my chin only to kiss me just as rough as before.

he holds me by the waist guiding me to hover over his erection. slowly, he slides it. it hurt, but not for long.

"fuck baby like heaven"

"matt fuck- let me move" stil holding my waist he lifts me up and down with ease.

"so wet pretty girl i knew you liked me"

"matt shut up-"

he drops me onto his dick quickly and i let out a scream, "watch yourself baby."

he continues bouncing me on his cock, running his tongue down my neck at the same time drives shivers down my spine and into my leaking cunt.

i pulse around him gaining groans from matt in return, he fuck into me harder and sloppier. my back arched i can feel myself about to cum.

"matt please- fuck dont stop" he carries the same speed hitting all the right places.

"gonna cum inside you baby, gonna fill you up so good"

"yes matt please please cum with me"

i feel his release his hot sticky liquid into me, it drips down my leg and im still in his lap.

he lifts my head from his chest to look at him, with a peck on the lips he says "you get me too hot and bothered"

─────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────

alr, love ya to bits 🫀

[sometimesanalice]

Bad Idea

Summary: After being deployed, all Bradley wanted was to have a fun night out with his friends and let loose. That is until he sees the woman who broke up with him, who he still isn’t over.  At his bar. With another man. And then he is in the mood to make some bad decisions. 

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Reader

Warnings: mutual pining, a little angst, smuttt. Minors DNI

Length: 6.3K

After being deployed for three months, Bradley had been looking forward to getting off that carrier and having a night out with his friends. Having a couple more beers than he should, kicking Hangman’s ass at pool, maybe flirting one of the many tag chasers that frequented the Hard Deck.

He wants to let loose a bit. Just for a while. 

The team is scattered around the bar. Some are hovering around the pool table, a few others hogging the dart board. He’s seated at one of the stools around the pool table, half listening to Fanboy recount some of his amusing antics during basic flight training in between lining up his shots, when he feels Phoenix nudge his arm to get his attention.

“Oh shit, is that…” she starts and trails off. 

He turns around in his seat expecting to find some friend from a former squadron or someone they went to TOPGUN with, and instead he sees you. 

The woman that he has spent the last three months trying to get over.

And you’re here in front of him looking entirely too comfortable with another man.

“Is that Zach Collins she’s with?” Phoenix asked pointedly, being decidedly unsubtle as she studies you and your date. 

“Sure looks like it,” he grunts. He lets his eyes linger on you, absorbing the shape of your curves. 

You are just as pretty as ever. The summer had been good to you, all your sun kissed skin was on display in the strappy open back top you were wearing. 

There’s a cluster of freckles on your right shoulder blade, he can’t see them from here, but he remembers their exact placement all the same. 

He feels the low pull in his stomach, not surprised in the least that you still have this effect on him. He wants to trace those straps with his fingers, wants to see if your skin is just as smooth as knew it to be.

You should be here with him.

Collins was fine. 

Bradley had worked with the engineer a few times in the past, and there wasn’t anything wrong with the guy. Except for that one time he asked one of the new female engineers to make the coffee for the team’s weekly debrief, which he was quickly put in his place for.

He was just boring as fuck. 

And apparently somehow lucky enough to have caught your eye.

“Damn, I really liked her,” Phoenix lamented, watching as your date handed you a drink, “What the hell did you do to send her into Collins arms?” 

“Thanks for the support, Nat,” he grumbles, down the rest of his beer in one go. Squeezing the empty glass a little too hard when he sees Collins checking out your ass as you leaned forward to chat with Penny above the noise of the bar. 

“But seriously, Rooster, she was so into you,” she continued as she turned back towards him, looking at him scrutinizingly, “There was no way that she would have been the one to end it with you, so what were you thinking letting her go?”

“Well, it’s a good thing you didn’t just bet on that.” He was regretting downing his beer, he’d need another one if Nat is going to give him the third degree.

“Hold up, she dumped you?” she asks perplexed, her eyebrows pulling together.

“Yup.” The word was flat and hollow even in his own ears.

He’d spent most of his free time during that deployment working off his feelings in the weight room. 

Instead of counting his sets, he was thinking about you and racking his brain trying to figure out what went wrong. Going over the night you broke up with him over and over again. Pushing himself until his arms shook and his legs couldn’t support the added weights. Combing through everything he could think of, only to come up with nothing. 

You hadn’t been dating that long, but you had made him happier than he had felt in a long time. And he thought he had made you happy too.  

He had been so into you.

And now you’re here at the bar he used to bring you to and standing close to Zach fucking Collins instead of being tucked under his arm.

Smiling at Zach fucking Collins instead of grinning at him.

Politely chuckling with Zach fucking Collins instead of unabashedly laughing with him. 

Bradley hated the feeling settling in his stomach as he watched you give Zach fucking Collins your full attention. He can still remember how good it felt to have it directed at him. How warm it made his chest when you turned the full force of your smile on him.

You must feel the intensity of his stare or of his wishful thinking because you turn to scan the bar, and he swears he stops breathing for a second when your eyes snag on his. The smile freezing on your lips as you hold his gaze.

If it wasn’t completely obvious before this, it’s even more clear to him that he is absolutely nowhere near being over you. And with you looking at him now, he doesn’t want to be. 

He can’t quite read the look that’s in your eyes, but it makes his gut twist with longing.

And then Zach fucking Collins is putting his hand on your bare shoulder, pulling your attention back to him. 

All Bradley knows in that moment is that he needs to talk to you right fucking now. That he wants you back.

“I need another beer,” he announces, tapping his knuckles on the table. 

“That seems like a bad idea considering who is currently occupying the bar. How about I go get the next round?” Nat suggested, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Funny you’d say that, since that’s exactly what I was thinking too.”

He had an idea coming together, he couldn’t claim it was a good one, but that wasn’t going to stop him.

“Rooster.”

“Phoenix,” he retorted, “Remember when I covered for you when you were hooking up with that civvy in the barracks? I’m calling in the favor, Nat.”

“Why do I feel like this has the potential to be a bad idea?” she muttered, shaking her head as she slid out of her chair.

As he watches Natasha weave her way through the crowd, he realizes there are a variety of ways this could backfire. But he pushes all those thoughts out of his head when he sees her striking up a conversation with the engineer, providing the distraction he needs to talk with you alone.

He saunters up to the bar, admiring your profile as he gets closer. Raising a hand to flag Penny down as he settles down next to you.

“It’s good to see you, Rooster. It’s been awhile. Another one for you?” Penny asks, and he feels you stiffen next to him. 

“Thanks, Penny. It’s nice to be home. And I’ll take a pint of the Pale Ale too, please.”

Bradley watches as Penny briefly glances at you. He gives her a small nod in confirmation as she grabs the glasses to pour the beers. 

She slides them over giving him an entirely too knowing look before turning to help another patron. 

“How have you been?” he asks as he passes you the beer, noting that your perfume hasn’t changed since he’s been gone.

“I’ve been fine, Rooster,” you say mildly. 

“You look good,” he murmurs softly. 

He’s not surprised when you that, instead choosing to make small talk since your date was conveniently occupied, “So…How long were you away?”

“Three months,” he says leaning a hip against the bar to face you.

He sees as you put it together, that he’s been gone almost as long as you’ve been broken up.

“Well, I’m glad you’re home safe. But you didn’t need to do that,” you say gesturing to the drink.

The one you are nursing is still over half full, but it feels right that he should be the one buying your drinks. 

“What’s one beer between…” he pauses for a moment, letting his gaze playfully rake over you before settling on, “Friends.”

Your eyebrow ticks up pointedly, “My ex probably shouldn’t be buying me a drink when I’m on a date with someone else.”

We don’t have to be.

“Tell me, what’s Collins bringing to the table?” he asks jerking his chin towards the dull engineer. 

He tried to swallow down the flicker of irritation that sparked when he said the other man’s name, but the frustration wells up in his chest.

“Don’t,” you say sharply, your pretty eyes flashing, “You don’t get to act jealous, Rooster. You are the one who wanted to break up with me.”

“What are you talking about?” he presses, feeling his brows knitting together, “You’re the one who broke up with me.” 

“Stop. I may have beat you to it, but I heard you talking to Jake,” your voice had gone tight, and you wouldn’t look at him, “You told him how you wanted to end it, but weren’t sure how to do it. So I did it for you.” 

This conversation was not going the way he hoped it would, and now he was more confused than ever.

“Wait, what?” he asks settling a hand on your waist to turn you towards him. He genuinely had no clue where you’d gotten that from, “I didn’t want to break up.”

“Seriously, Rooster?” Your eyes shoot back to him and he can see your temper flaring there.

Shaking your head at him in frustration, you grab his hand and pull him away from the bar to a quiet corner of the bar. 

He’d be more smug about how you’ve ditched your date for him, if his mind wasn’t all over the place trying to figure out what the hell you were talking about.

“I came out on the patio that night to see if you and Jake wanted another round, and I heard you. ‘I don’t know how to tell her, and we’ve only been together three months. It’s just too much.’ Does that sound familiar?” you questioned, raising your chin at him in a challenge.

Of course, he remembers that night. 

As if he hadn’t played it over and over.  He remembered how withdrawn you had been when he had come back inside with Jake. You ended things with him less than thirty minutes later.

And now he knows why. 

It hadn’t been him. It was a misunderstanding. A conversation taken out of context. The pressure in his chest that had been building up eases.

He can’t erase the last three months, but he can fix this. He needs to fix this.

You look so hurt, and all he wants to do is pull you to his chest. 

“I didn’t want to wait around for you to break my heart, so I made it easy for you and ended it myself instead,” your voice thick.

He is waiting for you to realize that your hand is still in his.

“I wasn’t going to end it,” he promised as he steps closer to you, squeezing your hand, “That night on the patio? I told Jake about my orders, I wanted to ask him how he had navigated the long distance with his girlfriend. I didn’t know how to tell you I was going to be shipped out last minute and gone for basically as long as we had been together.” 

“The deployment you just came back from,” you whisper, as realization dawned on your face.

He nods and searches your eyes, willing you to be back on the same page as him. He hasn’t stopped wanting you, not once since you broke things off with him. 

There is a hopefulness in your eyes for the first time since he approached you at the bar, and he’s encouraged.

And then he sees your face fall.

“I… I should get back to my date,” you mumbled, dropping his hand and looking away from him.

“I wasn’t going to end it,” he repeats firmly, ducking his head trying meet your avoidant gaze.

He needs you to hear him. 

“It doesn’t matter now. What’s done is done,” you tell him quietly as you walk back to Collins where he was still wrapped up in whatever small talk Nat had been forcing on him.

“The hell it is,” he says to himself, resolve firm in his chest. 

You tried to keep up with Zach as he chattered away, you really did. But try as you might you couldn’t bring yourself to care about the propulsion system his team was developing. 

You hadn’t been back to the Hard Deck since you ended things with Bradley.

When Zach had suggested bringing you here, you balked a bit at the thought of running into any of the people you had met and befriended through Bradley. 

At the idea of being known as just his ex. 

At the possibility of seeing him again.

It had been three months, you should be over him. Hearing his name shouldn’t still make your heart stutter in your chest. Seeing him in that ridiculous Hawaiian shirt shouldn’t make you long to take it off of him.

He looked so good tonight. 

You didn’t know how it was possible, but he looks even more broad now than he did before.

Bradley Bradshaw’s baseline is handsome, but tonight it’s been a test to keep yourself from admiring the way the cuff on his shirt hugs his biceps. How the ridges of his abs stand in relief against his undershirt. Did his jeans always grip to his thighs like that?

And god, you feel terrible about thinking about him like that when you’re literally on a date with another man. But not guilty enough to stop yourself from checking him out every chance you got.

And there was no avoiding him, Bradley was everywhere. A constant reminder of just how royally you fucked everything up. 

He was already at the bar when you were planning on getting about her round. 

Hovering near the jukebox when you were about to go feed it some quarters to put a stop to the painful and unending Jason Aldean retrospective. 

Needless to say, your glass remained empty, but thankfully someone changed the music and one of your favorite bands was playing over the speakers. 

It is impossible not to feel his presence, his energy. You swear there are times you feel his heated gaze on you, the sensation of it sending pulses of electricity down your spine. 

He wasn’t going to dump you.

Bradley seemed too good to be true, so when you overheard that conversation you’d let your mind spiral instead of just talking to him. Because what else could he have been talking about other than figuring out how to end things with you?

A deployment apparently. 

He had called and texted afterwards, and you deleted every single attempt without looking. Why didn’t you just talk to him?

And you couldn’t see a way to get back to how things were with him, now that he’d seen you self-destruct in spectacular fashion. 

Why would he want to be with you after you dumped him so casually, like it didn’t mean anything. Like he didn’t mean anything to you. 

God, you were such an idiot. 

Zach had been gone for a few minutes. He went to get another drink for himself, and had apparently forgotten about it since he was engaged in deep conversation with someone you recognized as a member of his team from the introductions earlier in the evening.

You’re startled by a warm hand skimming your shoulder. Surprised when Bradley pulls out the chair next to you, his knee nudging yours as he settles into it like he belongs there. 

“How long have you been seeing him?” he asks, leaning in to your space.

“It’s our third date.”

You weren’t sure what he was playing at, but if this was going to be one of the last times you saw him, you were going to let yourself have this. Even if it was a terrible idea.

“How’d you meet?”

“As one does in the twenty-first century, on an app,” you retort, tapping a couple fingers on your phone that is resting on the table.

Truth be told, you had only installed it after a drunken Girls Night a couple weeks ago. Zach was the first person you’ve been out with since Bradley. And you were quickly learning that he had set the bar high.

“Our story is better,” he rasps, there was an unwavering intensity in way he was looking at you. 

“Well, not everyone gets a meet cute, Rooster,” you sigh resigned. 

“We did.”

You can smell faintest hint of bourbon and bitters on his breath. He told you once it’s usually his liquor of choice when he is in the mood to make some bad decisions. And you briefly wonder whether or not that’s the reason why he is drinking it tonight.

“Yes, we did,” you admit softly.

Bradley Bradshaw had literally knocked you off your feet before he figuratively swept you off of them. 

He had been absolutely mortified when he had accidentally collided with you during a game of dog fight football when you had been walking along the beach after brunch with your friends. He had all but carried you up to the Hard Deck to help clean you up and to make sure you were ok.

Concern turned into flirting, “you’re too pretty for a concussion” he’d told you. While the line was cheesy, the snug denim shorts he was wearing were decidedly not. And then flirting turned into an invitation to meet up later that day where he could properly apologize in the form of a great night out and drinks on him. 

And a couple weeks later you were spending most nights in his bed, wrapped up in his sheets and sandalwood scent. 

You feel instantly warm remembering just how good it felt to have Bradley’s strong body pressed against yours.

“Has he made you come?” 

“Jesus, Bradley!” You shoot straight up in your seat, looking around wide-eyed trying to make sure no one overheard that particular comment. Shocked by his words and the way he seemed to know where your mind had wandered. 

“Do you remember our second date?” he questioned, his voice dropping lower. He’s even closer now.

Of course, you remembered. 

There was no way you could ever forget the way he had worked you with his fingers in his Bronco parked at a scenic viewpoint along the coast. How it felt to writhe on his lap with your dress rucked up your thighs as he rasped dirty praise in your ear. 

You had never moved that quickly with anyone. Had ever felt that much chemistry with anyone. Had never wanted anyone as much as you had wanted him. Had never come as quick with anyone else.

You felt hot all over. With confusion. With longing. 

“Bradley,” you warned, it sounded weak in your own ears.

“I wasn’t going to end it,” he steadfastly tells you again for the third time this evening.

“I heard you the first time,” you snap.

You are entirely too aware of how you fucked everything up. It’s been the only thing on your mind all night since he told you.

“You sure about that?” The irritation in his voice, matching the heat in his eyes, “Then what are you still doing with him?” 

It wasn’t fair for him to toy with you like this. He said it was a beer between friends. He hasn’t said anything that makes you think he would give you a second chance. That door was closed, but it didn’t hurt any less. Not when you were still so into him.

“He’s… nice,” you mutter unconvincingly, fiddling with your coaster.

“Nice?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Yes, Bradley. Nice.” You can hear how defensive you sound, but somewhere in the back of your mind realize that you’re having a better time arguing with Bradley than you’ve had all night with Zach.

“Baby, Collins is as bland as that gluten free bread you keep trying to trick yourself into liking.”

You can’t control the laugh that escapes you in that moment. 

Surprised that he remembers that about you, almost as if he knew about the sad sandwich you had lamented over during your lunch break earlier in the day. When you promised yourself that you’d stop buying that terribly unsatisfying gluten free bread.

The heated pressure that has been building between the two of you breaks. His eyes soften and the tension leaves his face as the corner of his mouth twitches up in a half smile.

“I missed that sound,” he murmurs, as he traces a thumb along the delicate skin of your wrist. “I thought about it a lot on that carrier. Thought about how much I missed you. Your laugh. Your smile. The sounds you made in my bed.”

Your breath catches in your throat. And for the first time that night you think there might be a chance.

You don’t know, but you’re desperate to find out. Your heart is pounding, as you open your mouth to ask the question-

“Hey, Bradshaw,” Zach interrupts, returning back to the table with a fresh drink in his hand, “I heard you just got back.”

You jerk back, surprised by just how close you and Bradley had gravitated towards each other during the conversation. How had you not noticed that your faces had been scarcely a few inches away from each other?

Bradley’s unwavering gaze is still on you. You can feel him willing you to ask the question that had been on the tip of your tongue, but you barely knew where you stood with him. 

Could barely think around him when he looked at you like that.

“Do you guys know each other?” he asks curiously, glancing between the two of you as Bradley ignores him in favor of staring at you.

“Uhm, yeah. You could say that,” you hedge uncomfortably, trying not to fidget in your seat.

“Biblically,” you hear him huff under his breath, for your ears only.

“Well, the dart board is finally open. How about we play couple rounds?” Zach suggests, settling his hand on your shoulder.  

You can tell by the way Bradley is flexing his jaw that he wants to say more. And you’re dying to throw yourself at him, to ask him if he would ever want to open that door again. 

But you had read him so wrong the first time, you didn’t trust yourself not to get it wrong again.

So you slide off the stool instead, “I’ll see you around, Rooster.”

Phoenix told him he was watching you with a stalker-like intensity, Bradley argued he was just being observant. 

“And don’t even think about sending me back in to try and distract Collins again. Frankly, I think you owe me a favor now. That guy is painfully boring,” she’d complained.

If you didn’t want him, he hoped you could figure out a way to be friends. Even if you did have history. 

And friends tell each other the truth, like when they’re dating the human equivalent of a rice cake. Or that they should forget about the rice cake completely and come back to him instead.

He noticed when your beer was getting low, and just so casually stationed himself near the bar for another chance to talk to you. But when you didn’t move for a refill, he had to resort to more drastic measures.

It had hurt him to pay for and queue up that terrible country music, but he figured it would be worth it if he could catch you by the jukebox, knowing that you hated this music just as much as he did.

But you when didn’t get up to change it as he expected you to, he’d put on one of your favorite artists instead and made his way back to his friends. Trying to figure out how else he could get you alone to talk. 

Usually he didn’t mind an audience, but tonight he didn’t want anyone else getting in between the two of you.

He thought he would finally have his moment to make you see reason and choose him when Collins had gotten waylaid at the bar, probably talking about math equations or whatever the fuck engineers talked about. 

But that conversation had only left him half hard and entirely desperate for you. And he didn’t feel any closer to getting you back than he had at the beginning of the night.

Having been banished by Jake for being “pathetically sulky”, he was sitting at the bar by himself staring into his untouched Old Fashioned. Which worked just fine for him, he wasn’t in the mood to be around anyone other than you.

Bradley wasn’t ready to be done. 

He could see it in your eyes that you weren’t ready to be done either, but he couldn’t figure out why you were holding back. He thought he had been clear that he still wanted you. 

Now that you knew it had all be a misunderstanding, he’d respect your decision if you didn’t want to be with him. But he needed to hear you say it. To tell him to his face.

You couldn’t actually think that Collins was a good match for you. You deserved so much better than that guy. 

And he wasn’t going to give up without a fight.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you turning down the hallway towards the bathrooms, and he struck with another bad idea. Probably the worst one of the night. 

Shooting up from his seat, he catches up with you in a few long strides. And then recklessly, he is grabbing you by the wrist as he pulls you with him into the Hard Deck’s storage room.

You whirl on him instantly, “Oh my god, Bradley! What the hell?”

He knows he had been toeing the line all night, but now he’s made you angry. 

And it shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does. The blaze in your eyes, the way your chest is rapidly rising up and down. Even in this dingy, dimly lit room you’re still the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.

“Sorry, sorry,” he tries to soothe, putting both his hands up. “But you and I both know we weren’t finished talking before Collins-”

“Enough, Bradley. You weren’t going to end it. I get it, I messed up!” you cut him off, putting a hand to your chest, “You’re already so hard to move on from, but I don’t think I can handle anymore of you dangling what could have been in my face. It’s not fair that you won’t let me try, if you don’t want me that way anymore.”

You turn to leave and his heart squeezes in his chest. This can’t be it. He doesn’t want this to be the end.

“Woah, woah, woah,” he desperately reaches out, pulling you against his chest. You tense as he wraps his arms around the front of you, “What gave you that idea? Talk to me. Please.”

It feels right to have you in his arms again. To hold you. And you fit just as perfectly against him as he remembered.

“I feel like you’re giving me mixed signals. You called us friends at the bar, but then you tell me all the ways you thought about me while you were deployed,” you admit quietly, “I don’t know what to think. And I already ruined a good thing, I don’t want to be wrong again.”

He would prove just how serious he was about you in whatever way you wanted. In words. In actions. Or if you wanted him to fuck some sense into you, he’d happily oblige.

Nothing mattered more to him than figuring this out with you. He wasn’t going to let you slip through his fingers a second time. 

“Let me be as clear as possible, I don’t want you to move on from me. Because I still want you,” he murmurs, letting his lips skim up your neck to the shell of your ear, “I never stopped wanting you. So if you want me, baby, you’ve got me.”

“As easy as that?” you ask cautiously, almost disbelievingly.

“As easy as that,” he promises.

“Of course I want you, Bradley,” you breathe, as you settle your hand over his where they are wrapped around you, melting into him, “I didn’t want to get my hopes up, not when I still like you so much.”

“Then I’m yours,” he grins, as he nudges your temple with his nose.

He likes the way your name feels in his mouth, as he kisses your neck and whispers your name against the skin there.

“Bradley,” you whisper. 

“Does it feel like I want to be just friends with you?” he asks, pressing himself more firmly against curve of your ass.

“No,” you moan, as you lean your head back against his shoulder, where it belongs.

“You’ve got me,” he murmurs, as he presses line of kisses along shoulder, “Now show me how you want me, baby.”

Taking his left hand, you guide it up to rest against your chest. He can feel how rapidly your heart is beating under his palm, he thinks his is going just as fast. And with the other, you smooth it down the front of your body until its resting low on your stomach.

You squeeze his hands briefly, letting go of them for long enough for you to unbutton to your jeans, before encouraging his right hand to go lower.

Bradley lets his fingers lightly trail over the top of your panties. He groans, recognizing them by feel alone, “Are these the little blue ones I got you?”

“They’re my favorites.” You tell him as you arch into him, trying to get his fingers to go lower still.

“I’m the only one who gets to see these on you,” he growls as he pulls out his hand to yank down your zipper.

“Yes, only you,” you keen, “There hasn’t been anyone else since you. Only wanted you.”

He feels frenzied now as he shoves your tight jeans down to you knees.

He wants you needy and writhing for him. He wants to feel you wet for him. He wants you to come chanting his name. He imagined taking you so many ways when he was on that carrier, he almost can’t believe he gets to have you this way again.

“You’ve got me.”

It’s a promise. It’s a vow.

He thrusts his denim clad knee between your thighs to hold you open as he slides his fingers back into the pretty light blue panties he bought for you.

You cry out when his fingers connect with your clit. He works you there with deliberately slow circles, satisfied by how wet you already are for him.

“God, I’ve missed you,” he says, resting his forehead against your temple. 

“Me too. Missed you so much,” you murmur as you stroke his forearm, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Bradley.”

He shushes you dropping a kiss to the crown of your head, threading the fingers of his free hand between yours, “It’s all good, baby. We’re good.”

It’s not long before you’re trying to grind against his hand, eager for more than what he is giving you. He wants to draw this out, wants to tease you a little longer.

“Please.”

“Please, what?” he lightly prompts. 

“Bradley, it’s been so long,” your breath hitches when he switches up his movements of his fingers, “Please.”

“I know, baby. I promise I’ll get you there. But you’ve got to wait a little longer,” he croons in your ear, adding a bit more pressure, “Not going to let you come on my fingers when you’re still on a date with another man.”

You whine as he rubs his mustache along your neck, he feels the shiver that courses through your body. Smiling to himself that he is the one who is making you feel good, not anyone else. 

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he says as he tightens the circles he is rubbing on your clit, “You’re going to tell Collins it isn’t going to work out. Then, we are going straight to the Bronco and you can ride my fingers like you did on our second date. And after you come, I’m going to take you home and show you just how much I’ve missed you.” 

The sweet kisses his is placing on your cheek are in stark contrast to his filthy promises. 

“I already did.”

“Say that again,” he demands, slowing down the movement of his fingers. 

“I already ended it,” you repeat with a whine, as your hips roll against him desperate for the release he is withholding from you.  “Told him I wasn’t over my ex. I just want you, Bradley.” 

The zipper of his jeans is almost painful with how hard he is, but he is too absorbed in the feel of you to bother unzipping himself for a little temporary relief. He’d willingly suffer as long as he got to hear your sweet whimpers and sighs at his hands.

He was yours.

“Did you delete that stupid app?” He didn’t consider himself a possessive man, but you made him greedy for more.

“Been a little busy,” you quip breathlessly, as you reach around to palm him through his jeans.

“I want to watch you delete it as you fuck yourself on my cock,” he grunts into your ear.

“Fuck,” you gasp, “Bradley.” Your hand flies up to the back of his neck, nails biting into the skin there.

You are even wetter now beneath his fingers. 

“Tell me you’re mine.” He wanted to hear it.

“I’m yours,” you pant into his neck, licking a stripe up the tendon there, “I’m yours. Now make me come and take me home.”

“Whatever you want, baby,” he promises with a grin as he redoubles his efforts against your clit. 

There’s no teasing in the way he precisely works you. 

He remembers the way you like to be touched. He knows how you’ll sigh when he rubs you up and down. How you whimper when he alternates the circular caresses against your hypersensitive skin. The way you clench when he glides rough figure-eights over your clit.

“I’m so close.” You’re trembling in his arms now.

“What do you need, baby?” he asks, switching his attentions to the diagonal strokes that always gets you there quickly.

“Just you,” you plead into the crook of his neck, “Just you.” 

You take the hand that’s been guiding the motions of your hips against his fingers, and settle it over your breast. Whining as he thumbs at your hardened nipple.

“You’ve got me, I’m yours,” he rasps softly.

And then you’re shuddering in his arms you fly apart for him. Body shaking with the aftershocks he pulls from you as he softly teases you with one gentle fingertip, as he coos sweet praise against the shell of your ear.

Bradley removes his hand from your now thoroughly ruined panties, and you spin around to wrap your arms around his neck. He tightens his hold on you as you come down, letting one hand make soothing circles on your lower back.

After you’ve caught your breath, you pull him down for a kiss. Your tongue languidly sliding against his. He’s missed having your lips on his.

“Can’t believe I got you off on my fingers before I got my mouth back on you,” he mutters against your mouth.

“I liked it,” you smile.

“Good,” he says as he helps you to pull your pants up, “Because we’ve still got a date with the Bronco and my bed tonight.”

You kiss his cheek as he redoes the top button for you.

“How do I look?” you ask as you try to fix your hair and straighten out your top.

You look like you’ve been fucked.

The smirk on his face must give away his thoughts, because you’re lightly hitting him on the chest with a shy smile before turning towards the door.

“Wait a second,” he pauses you with a hand to your wrist, “Your bow.”

You glance over your shoulder at him curiously.

The flimsy strings of your backless top hand managed to come undone. He skims a finger down the exposed skin, like he had been dying to all night, before retying it for you.

“There. You’re perfect,” he says ducking down to kiss your shoulder before opening the door for you.

He was hoping that the coast would be clear for when the made their escape, and instead he sees Nat leaning against the wall at the end of the hall looking entirely too smug for her own good.

“You owe me a favor,” she says pointing at him, before turning that finger on you, “And you, owe me brunch. Preferably with bottomless mimosas. Because I just saved both your asses from getting caught by Penny. And now I owe Jake a favor. So, you owe me big time.” She gives you both a knowing look before walking away.

You bury your face in his chest laughing.

“I’ll make us some reservations for next week,” you call out to her retreating figure, and Nat throws a thumbs up into the air not breaking her stride. And then you’re looking up at him, “Come on, let’s go. Don’t want to be late for our reservations in the Bronco.”

He grins down at you feeling lighter than he has in months as he leads you out of the bar tucked away under his arm.

Just where he wants you to be. 

Just where you’re supposed to be.

We’re saying “Yes to the Ex!”

Thanks for reading! 

You can check my other stories here!

Tag List:

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[ahhnini]

midas touch - rafe cameron x fashionista!reader

synopsis - based off this ask!

moodboard ⋆·˚ ༘ *

word count - 1.4k

warnings - oblivious!reader, bestfriend!rafe, flirting (from rafe), alcohol consumption, fluff, slow burn, not proofread!

a/n - i diverged a little from the request, but i hope you still enjoy! <3

you snap a mirror pic of your outfit for the day, putting up a caption, then uploading it to your instagram story. you fix any wrinkles from your outfit before heading outside to meet up with your friends.

“there’s our little influencer,” kelce says as you enter the cameron household. you smile and roll your eyes playfully, sitting down on the couch, “to be fair, I never thought my account was gonna get popular,” you shrug before continuing, “but it does feel nice knowing that people around the world like my outfits.” rafe comes through the back door, four beers in his hand. “we still waiting for top?” “yeah, should be on his way, though,” kelce replies as he puts an arm around your shoulder. rafe hands you a beer while you lean on kelce’s shoulder. you don’t miss the look rafe gives you. his gaze becoming sharp. you clear your throat as you open the can and take a swig.

as soon as topper arrives, the hangout officially begins. this was a tradition between you four, once a week you would hang out at each other’s houses.

this “tradition” started a long time ago. at first, it was just you and rafe. you remember how he defended you from your bullies, how he had been so selfless, despite everyone saying he was the opposite. you remember how his kind blue eyes would glance at you during homeroom, to make sure you were all right. you noticed how during lunch he would sit in close proximity to you, just in case anyone would try to be a bother.

you were shy when you asked him if he wanted to hang out with you outside of school for the first time. fingers fidgeting, voice soft and eyes looking down. you thought he was gonna laugh in your face, but when he said yes, you felt something spark in your heart.

rafe eventually became friends with topper and kelce, and the four of you clicked together like missing pieces in a puzzle. the summer after you graduated high school, you started a fashion account on instagram. posting various outfits, recommendations, and making get ready with me vlogs. you were hesitant, but the guys assured you that you had nothing to worry about. they were right, and everyone absolutely loves the content that you post.

after your account started blowing up, people from the obx found out and started following you. it made you slightly insecure at first, thinking they had been following you to poke fun at your content. but when you realized that you had started setting fashion trends across the island, that insecurity dissolved.

topper jumps off the roof into the cameron pool, splashing the three of you. “so stupid,” you mumble, shaking your head and smiling at him as he swims to the surface.

midnight struck, you were outside with a blanket wrapped around you. you all sat in a circle, eating takeout while gossiping — yes, gossiping, about the new family that moved into figure eight. it was the guys’ guilty pleasure, though they’d never admit it.

you scoffed at their endless conspiracies, deciding to just listen. you take a deep breath, crisp air hitting your nostrils. topper and kelce stand up, announcing that they’re going home. you, however, don’t want the night to end, so you ask rafe if you can stay over. thankfully, he says “yes, of course.”

both of you snuggle on the couch, rafe breathing the scent of your hair in as he not so sneakily peeps at your screen. you check your socials, and see that engagement is going up. rafe softly speaks, “how does this work?”

“hm? what do you mean?”

“do you get free stuff?”

“sometimes. but I mainly post things I already have,” you shrug.

rafe makes an ah sound before putting his chin on top of your head.

this felt…intimate. none of the other guys would be this physically close to you. you quickly brush those thoughts away, concluding that rafe is only this close to you because you’ve known him the longest. you put your phone down, leaning against rafe’s chest. this felt so natural for some reason. closing your eyes, you fall asleep, rafe loosely hugging your waist.

the next week, you were sunbathing in the sunny skies of saint-tropez. you had been invited to paris fashion week, and you had some free time after the event. however, you missed your friends, and you were texting them 24/7. you were replying to something topper said in the group chat, when someone approached you. good lord, he was attractive. he smiled at you, pearly whites adorning his face. you swore you could’ve heard church bells ring. “hey, mind if I set up my towel here?,” he asks, voice smooth and sultry.

“go ahead,” you move your sunglasses to the top of your head, taking a good look at him.

“i’m johnny,” he sticks his hand out.

you smile and say your name.

“are you from the states too?” he asks, quirking his head over to the side.

“yeah — north carolina,” you clear your throat, suddenly becoming nervous.

“oh cool, i’m from Illinois,” his eyes run up and down your body, and your cheeks grow red.

you two banter for a couple of minutes, before johnny bites his lip, as he asks for your number.

you smile and give it to him, he does seem like a nice guy after all.

the humidity of the outer banks is painful. turns out, when you came back, there had been a heatwave going on. to add onto that, the ac at your house broke down. so here you were, back at rafe’s, waiting until your cooling system gets fixed.

“how was your trip?” he asks, bringing out popsicles from the fridge and handing one out to you.

you beam at him, “absolutely amazing. I was freaking out over how many designers I met.”

“damn rafe, we don’t get one?” kelce says, laying down on the cold tile floor. “get one yourselves,” rafe gruffly replies.

topper and kelce glance at each other, wiggling their eyebrows. you don’t see it, but rafe does, and he scowls at them.

topper calls out your name again,“why’d you stop texting us halfway through our trip?”

“yeah, did you run out of data or something?” kelce questions.

“um—yeah, so…” you trail off, looking at the ground. “I met someone, and we really hit it off,” you smile, and the two boys make an ooooh sound, teasing. you continue, “yeah, we’ve been talking for a week now, and he seems like a chill guy,” you chuckle. “so sorry I ghosted you guys.” “you’re good, just, rafe was gettin’ all pissy when you wouldn’t answer,” topper sprawls across the tile. “shut up, top,” rafe groans.

“c’mon, don’t act like you were about to hop on a plane yourself to go visit her,” you giggle at topper’s teasing. you found it endearing that rafe cares about you so much. guess he’s still the same boy after all these years.

“rafe, I hate him!” you scream into your pillow. “I know sweetheart,” rafe gently rubs your back, sighing. after a month of talking, you and johnny decided to meet up again. in new york. it was stupid, meeting up with a guy you’ve met in real life once. he played you, hard. he had completely flaked on the meet up itself and ghosted you. money wasted and heart broken, you sulked on your bed.

“am I stupid, rafe?” you ask, tears staining your cheeks. “no, sweetheart. a bit oblivious, yes. stupid, definitely not.”

you sniffle, rafe handing you a tissue.

rafe whispers, “i’ll beat his ass for breakin’ your heart.” you know he didn’t mean it, but you shake your head regardless. sitting up, you face him, “he doesn’t deserve your time anyway.” he smiles, eyes crinkling, “that’s the spirit.”

there’s a sparkle in his eyes. without knowing it, you lean closer to him. you feel him breathe, soft breaths hitting your face. you don’t stop, tilting your head and pressing your lips against his. oh god, what have you done?

he kisses back, arms wrapping around your waist. your mind moves a million miles per hour. you tangle your hands in his hair as he lays you down, crawling on top of you.

“are you sure you wanna do this, sweetheart? you know, our relationship’s gonna change after this, no going back,” he says breathlessly.

he’s so beautiful. taking a deep breath in, you blissfully say,

“yes.”

divider by sseuda on tumblr

[princessbrunette]

he always promised to take you on more dates when he got out of jail, and jj was a man of his word.

a gross, seedy dive bar on the outskirts of town wasn’t exactly what you had in mind — but jj was all over it. he was said to have been locked up with a couple of the guys that work there now, and would be able to score the two of you a couple of free drinks, and that was enough to convince you. plus, you didn’t really care where you went with jj — you were just happy to be able to spend time with him again.

“look, if my probation officer has no problem with me bein’ here, it’s clearly safe. you got nothin’ to worry about — i know these guys.” jj grins reassuringly, noticing your unsure expression as he opens the door to his truck for you. “now would i bring you somewhere if i wasn’t one thousand percent sure you’d be alright? no. that would be like, neglecting my duty of care for my girlfriend. just wasn’t raised that way, mama.” you raise an eyebrow as he loops an arm around your waist, walking you towards the door — internally questioning what he meant considering he practically wasn’t raised by anyone.

there’s a chorus of his name when he walks in and you shy to his side, clinging to his arm. he meets and greets, before the attention is turned to you, smiling bashfully through the ‘and this must be the famous girlfriend. you know we thought maybank was lyin’ about you.’ along with all the usual banter.

the real fun doesn’t start for a few hours. the place has cleared out a little, and you’re a couple of drinks in, feeling a lot more loose and comfortable. your boyfriend nurses the same beer he’s had for a while now, making a conscious effort not to go over the legal driving limit because he could not afford to get sent back into the slammer over something so dumb. for entertainment, the two of you are stationed at a pool table in some dimly lit corner, feeling your body get hotter just at the blonde explaining the rules of the game.

“you wanna hit this ball with this ball, n’get it into this hole. i already know you’re gonna be a pro at this, okay — i have full faith in you.” he chuckles, because you both know it’s likely not to be true. he passes you the cue stick, giving your ass a little pat in gesture to position yourself. “bend over the table a lil’ f’me.” he instructs, eyeing the table before smirking at his own double entendre. “i know y’know how to do that, atleast.”

you bite your lip, containing your growing excitement — but can’t help yourself from making a real show of it, lining up your stick with the ball and really laying your body on the table to have your ass practically stuck in the air. whilst you’ve been tugging your mini skirt down all night, you finally just let it ride up to the bottom crescent of your ass cheeks. the cherry on top was the way you glance over your shoulder, pouting your glossy lips.

“like this, jayj?”

he’s glancing around the room for any watchers before cementing his vision to the sight of your panties peeking from beneath your skirt. “yeah, yeah just like that actually.” he’s distracted, and shakes himself out of it to lean over you and adjust your hand placement on the stick. “there y’go, atta girl. like i said, total pro.” he praises and to retaliate, you press your ass into his crotch making him clear his throat. “dont start sumn’ you can’t finish, lil girl.” he chides teasingly, as he backs up a little, eyeing you — but you can tell he’s getting wound up.

“not doin’ anything.” you smile impishly, practically waving your lace panties at him as your skirt rides up even more. he steps closer protectively, looking around as he scratches beneath his nose — making sure no one else can get a peek.

“nah? well in that case, don’t mind if i do…” his eyes are flitting round still cautiously as a hand slips between you, skilfully forcing your panties aside and sliding his fingers through your glossy folds. he smirks, brows jumping up and his tongue poking out to fiddle with the corner of his mouth. “oh? wha’s got you so excited mama? i dunno you must really like playin’ pool. you’re soaked.” he teases, licking his lips and leaning down to speak to you a little quieter. you pretend to continue lining up your shot, but your hands get shaky and you can’t keep the cue stick still.

“just happy to have my man back.” you admit sweetly which is the final straw for him. he pulls your skirt back down and steps away, making a real show of licking the residue of his fingers.

“right, right — y’know i hear the bathrooms here are like, super spacious. we should pro’lly go check it out, right? see what all the hype’s about.” he nods casually, helping you stand up straight.

“but jj, what about our game of pool?” you pout theatrically knowing you don’t really care. he turns to you, cornering you against the table.

“well i mean, i’m suggesting the bathroom out of respect. trust me, i got no issue gettin’ all in those guts right here on the table infront’a everyone. s’your call, babydoll.” he thumbs at your chin and your lashes flutter as an immediate response, feeling your mind go to mush.

“uhm… bathroom.” you agree shyly and he nods with a simple smile, patting your cheek.

“tha’s the spirit cupcake. that pool table ain’t goin’ anywhere.” jj commends, leading you by the lower back to the glowing bathroom sign on the wall.

[son-of-a-top-gun]

Sky's the Limit (part 2)

hello everyone, so glad you all enjoyed part one so much - thought you deserved a little treat in the form of the next chapter and some juicy lore..

warning: some evidence to the canon that Bob fucks, mention of infinite jest, Jake flirting with anything that moves, the usual

Sky's the Limit part 2

part one

Part of the deal of getting to stay with Penny for free was occasionally helping behind the bar when she was short-staffed, or more importantly, when she had a hot date with Pete.

You had to borrow one of her old Hard Deck t-shirts, which was a little bit too snug for your liking, but you had to make do. Besides, it was a welcome break from the blank screen you had spent the last week looking at. Talking to real people, maybe that’s where inspiration will come from.

****

When Jake walks into the bar, he is determined. He is absolutely exhausted and he needs to get back into his groove, when he immediately notices it. Behind the bar there is a girl wiping down the far end, with her back turned to him. She’s in a pair of pretty short shorts and a quite snug Hard Deck t-shirt, and she’s clearly new. This should be easy.

“Could I get a drink? I’m terribly thirsty over here.” He says in the deepest, sultry Southern tone he can get.

The girl turns around, and Jake’s face drops.

It’s you, with your hair down and you’re not wearing your glasses. He swallows and subtly readjusts himself. 

“Really Bagman? That’s the best you’ve got?”

He puffs his chest a little. “I’m surprised you can even tell it’s me from over there. I’m pretty sure that’s a safety hazard.”

“I’ve got contacts in, dumbass. Although I don’t need my glasses to know a sore loser when I see one.”

“And I would have thought that bar work is below such a worthy scholar like yourself.”

“I’m helping Aunt Penny. She’s got a date with Pete. Or wait, you guys call him Maverick.” Jake nods. You look at his hands. “Corona right?”

Jake is taken slightly aback. “Yeah, that’s right.” You pull out a bottle and open it.

He takes a swig, before yawning. “Hot date, eh? That’s good for some.”

“Tell me about it.” You say without thinking, before correcting yourself. “I can’t believe the great Bagman isn’t constantly inundated with women throwing themselves at him.” He looks at you in a way that makes you feel very exposed all of a sudden. “I mean, in spite of your terrible pick up lines.”

“Yeah, well I’m not going to waste my good ones on you am I?” Jake regrets it a little the moment he says it, but you carry on wiping glasses, seemingly unaffected.

“I’m just saying they could probably do with an edit or two.”

“You’re going to give me tips, are you? Thanks but no thanks.” He leans over the bar. “I’m doing just fine, thank you.” He catches a whiff of whatever perfume you’re wearing. Damn, if it doesn’t smell good.

You lean back and raise your hands up. “Alright, good luck then. I need to get back to work.” 

Jake wants to think of a witty retort but you’re already gone. He picks up his beer and walks over to the pool table where the other pilots are waiting. He doesn’t know why he feels hot, but he hopes it will go away. It has to go away, right?

***

“Earth to Hangman?” Tash waves her hand in front of his face. “It’s your turn.” She’s still holding the darts.

“Oh right, sure.” He tries to focus on the board, throwing his darts even quicker than usual.

“It’s annoying you’re still good at that when you’re clearly not even paying attention.” Tash huffs.

Jake looks over to you as you serve one of the older gentlemen.

“So what do we know about this ‘Ladybug���?” He asks, still not prising his eyes away.

“Great, Hangman has a crush.” Tash swats his arm. “I like this one Jake, I’m not letting you drive her away.” 

“I’m not going to. Besides, she’s Penny’s niece so she’s not going anywhere.” He turns to her and Bob, who is looking at his phone. “But there’s something odd about her right?”

“You’re just saying that because she doesn’t immediately want to jump your bones, Bagman.”

Bob keeps looking at his phone. He had in fact looked her up after your last conversation. He did find it odd that you had clearly already finished your pHD because he had already read your thesis, which had already been published. However, it was rare he had something over Jake, and he liked you, so he decided to say nothing. He wasn’t sure what you were working on, but whatever it was, he was sure it was your business.

Jake needed to work for this one.

Bob looks at Jake, who is intently watching as a skinny guy in glasses and some faded band t-shirt leans over, talking to you. You lean in, your arms slightly squeezing your chest towards him. Unbeknownst to anyone, Jake feels himself getting hot again all of a sudden. This scrawny little rat? Really? He downs his beer.

“Anyone want another drink?”

****

You return to the bar and look around. Cute Glasses Guy is nowhere to be seen.

“Bagman, did you see where that guy went?”

“What guy?” Jake twiddles with his toothpick, desperately avoiding eye contact. You look him over.

“You know exactly which guy. Where did he go?”

“I don’t know.”

“You are a terrible liar.” You cross your arms. “What did you say to him?”

Jake finally turns to look at you.

“Look, you’re better off without him. He was about two minutes away from telling you how much he loved Infinite Jest. “

“Well at least he could probably read it, unlike you. I’m surprised you even know who David Foster Wallace is.”

“I’m full of surprises. Unlike him. You do not want a guy who dresses like he got lost in a vintage store in Portland, and wants you to invest in his startup to help buy polaroids for orphans.”

You cross your arms.

“So what guys do I want exactly? Big hunky pilots who think they are God’s gift to women? I’m fine, thank you.” You get back to cleaning the bar.

“You think I’m hunky.”

“Shut up.”

“I mean, what’s wrong with me anyway? Most girls would kill for this.”

You couldn’t help but grin. It really did irk him that you weren’t falling for his act.

“Sorry babe, but you’re not my type.”

“Then tell me, who is?”

You scan the bar. You looked over at the pilots clustered around the pool table. 

“Oh my god, it’s not Rooster is it?”

“As much as I would love to say that, him and my sister have history.” You clap your hands over your mouth. “Wait, I’m not supposed to say that.” You turn to him. “How good are you at keeping secrets?” He seems to mull it over.

“Hangman, I’m being serious.”

He rolls his eyes before miming zipping his lips shut. “I am a gentleman of my word. I promise I won’t, even if it will kill me. Besides, I don’t even know who your sister is.”

“And I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Do you honestly think I just sleep with every single woman I lay my eyes on?”

“Yes. Especially if they are more beautiful, successful, glamorous versions of me.”

“I doubt that.” You tilt your head at him. He looks curiously soft, until he realises your look, and he looks away, taking a sip of his beer. “But let me know when she’s in town.” You whip him with the dish cloth you’re holding.

“Gross, Jake.” Jake’s eyebrow perked up. You used his real name. He wanted to celebrate but his curiosity got the better of him.

“So who is your type then?”

You looked back at the table.

All the pilots were ridiculously good looking, it was like a casting director had chosen every single one of them to make you nervous. But as you swept through, you could see one particular pilot looking at his phone smiling.

“Bob.”

“Bob? Are you kidding?”

“No? He’s tall, handsome, smart and a real gentleman.” You lean forward. “And he fucks.”

“Ew, what, gross. Where are you even getting that from?”

“Women’s intuition.” You tap your nose. Jake looks at you disbelievingly. “Also he has a hickey right at the bottom of his neck, just poking out of his collar, and what looks like” You take another look over. “Bruises and nail marks on his arms.” 

“How the hell can you see that from over there?” 

“I’ve got good observation skills.”

“Does that come in handy with your thesis?”

“Sometimes.” 

Jake leans forward.

“So if you’ve come to this conclusion, why don’t you ask him out then?” Jake huffs.

“He is also definitely seeing someone Jake, don’t be stupid.”

“Okay, now you are having me on.”

“Why is it so hard for you to believe someone like Bob could have a girlfriend? Do you think because someone wears glasses and likes books they are doomed to be unfuckable losers? That they should be grateful for any single morsel of attention they receive because who knows what will turn up?”

“That’s not what I meant Ladybug-”

You point at him.

“You don’t get to call me that.”

“Look, I’m -”

“Hey Hangman!” Javy waves a cue, “you promised us a game remember?”

Jake turns back to you, but you are gone, serving someone else at the bar.

***

Jake walks back to the pool table, where Bob is still looking at his phone smiling.

“Who are you messaging?”

Bob’s head snaps up, and he puts his phone behind his back.

“Er-what, no, I mean no one. Just looking at a - a - a- meme, that’s all.”

“Goddammit.” He turns back to you at the bar where you are talking to another customer.

“Jake-”

“Look Bob, remember we share any good memes on the chat. That’s what good squad members do.” He sees Bob’s shoulders visibly relax. At this point Nat sidles up to him.

“Hey, I realised where her name sounds familiar.”

“Oh really?”

“Her dad is Admiral Y/N.” Jake’s eyebrows raised so far they almost flew off his forehead. 

“That guy? The one who -”

“Yeah. That one.”

Your dad was famous throughout the entirety of Top Gun for being perhaps the biggest hard ass there was. He was known to give recruits 200 pushups for just looking at him wrong. He even scared Jake’s dad. Jake couldn’t imagine what he would do if anyone dared to touch his daughter. But something still didn’t make sense. Usually he could tell Navy brats a mile off but Jake knew this was different. You hadn’t even given the slightest hint who you were. This game had just gotten a little more dangerous, and a lot more interesting.

part three

----

@burningwitchprincess

@cornishkat

[winchesterwild78]

I’ll Always Take Care of You

Characters: Beau x Reader (wife)

Warnings: Smut!, unprotected sex (cover it up people), aftercare 

A/N: This is an Anon request for what aftercare would look like between Beau and the reader. I’m using the character, Beau, but this does not follow the Big Sky story at all. No disrespect to anyone, this is a work of fiction. All work is my own. I do not give permission for it to be taken. 

Minors DNI 18+

You and Beau have been married for almost 5 years. His job is stressful but when he gets home he leaves it all at the door. You’re thankful he can do that. You know it’s hard for a lot of people who aren’t public servants to leave crap at the door, but he does it perfectly. 

You know, even though he won’t admit it, he learned how to do it after he and Carla split. You were, however, thankful he did learn it. 

Standing in the kitchen with music playing, you were cooking dinner and dancing around. Music was always something that could calm you down when you were anxious, upset, or nervous. Music seemed to unlock something within you that helped you. The music was a little louder than usual. You had a lot on your mind and needed to talk to Beau about something. You were, well, very nervous. Not sure how he’d handle it. 

So, you decided to cook him his favorite meal and plan a very relaxing evening for him. You were wiggling your hips to the music when you heard a deep chuckle from behind you. Looking over your shoulder you saw Beau. He was standing at the threshold of the door, arms crossed over his chest, and grinning ear to ear. 

“Whatcha cooking, darlin’?” He walked over to you, kissing your neck and taking you in his arms. “Oh, just your favorite, steak and roasted potatoes, and I have pie for dessert.” His eyes went wide. “What’s wrong, Y/N?” “What? Nothing. Can’t I just cook your favorite meal without something being wrong?” You nervously bit your lip. 

He threw his hands up in defeat “Okay, if you say so.” He walked over to the fridge and grabbed a beer. “Want one, honey?” He asked. “No thank you, I’m good.” You smiled at him. 

When the food was ready the two of you sat down at the table and enjoyed a quiet dinner. Beau chuckled as you brought out the pie. He ate a big slice. When he was done he sat back and looked at you.

“Come here, sweetheart.” He pushed his chair back from the table and you walked over to him positioning yourself between his legs. He grabbed your hips and pulled you close and to sit on his lap. You leaned down and kissed his lips. “Thank you for a delicious dinner, baby.” “You’re welcome, Beau. Are you ready for your second dessert?” You smiled seductively at him. 

Beau growled “second dessert?” “Yep, give me 5 minutes and meet me in the bedroom.” You bit your lip and stood up walking into the bedroom. You slipped into the bathroom and put on the lingerie you bought for tonight. It was red, see through, and had tiny bows all over it. The bra part was a big bow that you had to tie. You knew he would enjoy untying it. 

You laid on the bed and waited for your husband to come in. Beau appeared at the doorway and took one look at you and let out the most pornographic moan you’d ever heard from him. You giggled and blushed. He closed the door shut and started to remove his clothes. You could tell he was hard through his jeans. 

He crawled up the bed towards you. His lips found yours in a passionate kiss and his hands grabbed your hair, pulling you closer to him. 

Beau leaned back looking over your body and the lingerie. “Damn you’re so beautiful. Can I open you up now?” He smirked, grabbing at the bow. “Yes, baby, please.” You whined. He untied the bow and your breasts sprang free. Beau growled, taking one of your hard nipples in between his thumb and finger, and the other one in his mouth. Sucking hard and making your toes curl. 

You grabbed his hair, pulling him closer to you. You moaned loudly as he sucked harder. You felt the slick pooling between your legs. Beau’s hardness was pressing on your leg and you wiggled a little, rubbing your leg on him and he groaned. 

You felt drops of precum on your leg as he moved in between your thighs. He pulled at the waistband of the panties you were wearing and you lifted your hips to help him pull them down. He spread your legs and saw the slick between your folds and bit his lip. 

“You’re so wet for me baby.” He slowly slid his fingers between your folds and you moaned, bucking your hips up. Your arousal is evident by the wetness between your legs and your engorged clit. 

Beau slipped two of his thick digits in your aching heat and you moaned. Moving your hips with him as he fingered you. The sounds of wetness and moans filled the room. Beau hooked his fingers up, inside you and he hit your sweet spot. You grabbed the sheets, moaned and threw your head back. 

He could feel you getting close to your release. “Beau….I….need you.” you gasped. “Not yet baby, I want to make you cum first. Damn baby you are so ready for me aren’t you?” You nodded your head enthusiastically. Beau sped up, helping you chase your release. He could feel you holding on. He leaned up and whispered in your ear “cum for me baby”. You felt your release hit hard. 

You writhed under him as he kept going, causing another orgasm to hit, just as intense as the last one. A deep chuckle sounded from his chest. 

Your scream filled the room. It was fueled by a mixture of pleasure and over stimulation. Beau removed his fingers and you whined at the loss of fullness. You stared up in your husband’s green eyes, full of love and lust. Your walls clenched around nothing as you saw him lining himself up.

Beau leaned down, kissing your lips as he pushed deep inside, bottoming out with one thrust. You both moaned as he pushed in. Your fingers grabbed his arms and your legs wrapped around his waist, keeping him from leaving. Beau set a slow rhythm, savoring every second he was with you. 

The sound of moans and pure pleasure filled the room. Beau knew your body like the back of his hand. He knew how to make love to you and how to ride you hard. Tonight was a mixture of both. The way he took you was primal. Like something had awoken in him and he felt the need to claim you again, and protect you. 

He wrapped his arms around you and thrusted into you. His lips found their way to the pulse point on your neck and he kissed and nibbled it. You moaned, gripping his shoulders. His thrusts grew faster and he began to grunt with each thrust. You felt your body responding to his growls and grunts. 

You relaxed your legs and he immediately took them and put them on his shoulders, thrusting in deeper. The sounds of moans and flesh hitting flesh filled the room. “I’m so close, baby. Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around my cock.” He growled in your ear. 

“Cum, Beau. Fill me up.” You begged. His thrusts picked up speed and before too long he was emptying his seed, deep inside your womb. 

The two of you laid back, out of breath and trying to come down from your high. Beau rolled on his side, sweeping a strand of hair off of your sweat covered face. His hand gently brushed your face “so beautiful.” He kissed your lips and got out of bed. 

Beau walked into the bathroom and brought back a warm washcloth. He gently spread your legs and cleaned you up, before cleaning himself. He put the washcloth in the laundry basket and walked into the kitchen bringing back a bottle of water. “Here baby, it’s hot in here. Drink some water. We have to keep you hydrated.” 

You smiled while taking the water. “Thank you, Beau.”

He crawled back in bed beside you and pulled you into his arms. “I love you, Y/N.” You laid your head on his chest, your fingers drawing delicate patterns “I love you too, Beau.” 

Tags: @nescaveckdaily  @kr804573 @k-slla @jackles010378 @jawritter

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @roseblue373 @cheynovak @jassackles  @chriszgirl92

@suckitands33 @arcannaa @n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78 @smoothdogsgirl

@hobby27 @manicjk @stoneyggirl2 @1-read-the-hobbit-in-1937

[cherryblossomcowgirl]

Hangman’s First Rodeo

MASTERLIST PINNED

Warnings: NONE

WC: 2.1k

.

.

I put my car in park and let out a long sigh. After a quick check in the rear view mirror, I wonder if I made the right decision wearing no makeup and letting my hair be wild and free. Bradley heard from someone in administration that I got asked to arrive earlier than expected to the North Shore, so he extended an invite to the Hard Deck. When he texted me, I immediately felt bad seeing how often he had reached out just to be left on read. It was nothing personal, he has been one of my closest friends for a decade, I just needed space. I finally decided it was time to stop stewing in my thoughts and take the key out of the ignition.

.

.

The bar is crowded with patrons in khakis. Loud music and chatter fill the room. I scan the room and find Bradley, he motions me over to the back of the bar where there are pool tables and dart boards. He immediately wraps me in a hug, “Rodeo! It’s been too damn long.” I smile up at him, “I know Rooster, I know.” He starts pointing out people in the group and listing names, “This is Bob, that’s Phoenix, Coyote is over there, there’s Yale, and where is .. oh there.. that’s Bagman.” The blonde turns around with a smirk, “It’s Hangman, Bradshaw. And who is this?” Bradley stiffens, “This is Rodeo.” The blonde looks me up and down with the same little smirk, then turns back to his game of darts. I stand near the pool table and watch as Bradley starts a game with Phoenix. Since I regularly work with aviators, making small talk was easy. Once the blonde wins the game of darts, he walks over and stands beside me. He smells like jet fuel and sandalwood. I look at his arms, toned and tan. I tell myself to calm down. I am here for work, nothing else. “Bradshaw here didn’t get you a drink?” I turn to him, “I am fine, but thanks.” His eyes narrow slightly and he smiles, “I am not hitting on you, darling. But I am about to go get another beer from Miss Penny up there.” I chuckle and stare right back into his bright green eyes, “Well I am happy we cleared that up, darling. You aren’t my type and I don’t drink.” I do a very large and obviously fake smile. Hangman furrows his brow and walks away, looking flustered. Bradley walks over and is giggling uncontrollably, “What did you do to Bagman?” I shrug, “I just told him he wasn’t my type and that I don’t drink.” Bradley put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his side, “Man, I missed you. He annoys the shit out of all of us and somehow you put him in his place within 30 minutes of meeting him.” The rest of the group laughs and chimes in, agreeing with Bradley.

.

.

The night continues on with countless games of pool and darts. We all end up outside, some sitting in the sand and some with their feet in the water. Bradley plops down next to me and bumps me with his shoulder, “Dude, I missed you. You gonna tell me why they moved you here?” I stare at the waves crashing on the sand, “You too, Roo. I am not even completely sure. Thought you had something to do with it because it was Mav who called me.” Rooster raised his brows, “He didn’t say anything to me.” I shrug again, staring at the group of aviators standing by the ocean. Bradley can see the concern on my face and pats my back, “Hey, don’t worry. They’re good. Well, except Bagman.” He chuckles and I hear a familiar voice shout, “Senior Chief Rodeo? Now why is Rooster keeping you all to himself?” I turn and see Maverick walking down from the Hard Deck, smiling big as can be. “Mav!” I run and give him a big squeeze. What I didn’t notice was the group walking back from the water, or that they heard him yell to me. As they reach Bradley, Pheonix asks, “Senior Chief Petty Officer? How the hell old is she?” Rooster faces her, “She is not old. She just works her ass off.” I walk back to the group with Mav, wondering why they are all looking at me. Hangman breaks the silence, “So Senior Chief Rodeo, can you clue me in on your skincare routine? I coulda sworn you were the same age as all of us.” I roll my eyes, “Y’all’s age? No way. I’m 28, what are you .. 40?” I take a moment to watch their eyes bug out, and then start walking back inside with Mav and Bradley. Bradley slaps my back, “You haven’t changed a bit. Still an absolute asshole. Love it.” We pay our tabs and head back to get some sleep. I lay in bed, staring at the blank walls of my little bungalow, wondering what the morning will bring.

.

.

Once I jumped out of my truck on base, I could feel eyes on me. The group from last night were all chatting by the hangar, in their flight suits and aviators. I was in civies and a Longhorn baseball cap. Bradley parked beside me and jumps out, “You are so damn lucky. I swear y’all are never in uniform.” I chuckle, “I know, but hey y’all don’t look too bad in your onesies.” He sighs and throws his bag over his shoulder, “10 bucks they shit themselves when Mav tells them your job.” I put my hand out to shake on it, “Deal. It’s nothing special. I am pretty curious to know why I am here anyways.”

.

.

The aviators are all seated when Mav and I walk into the hangar. Mav claps his hands, “Okay ladies and gents, I’d like to introduce you to my friend. This is Senior Chief Petty Officer y/l/n, callsign Rodeo.” There’s a few “Good morning”s and “Hello”s in response. I wave. Mav continues, “As you know, we have had quite a few missions recently with the SEAL teams. As you also know, we have some areas where we need to green up when it comes to working with the SEALs. So, Coronado was nice enough to lend us Rodeo for a bit. As we go through this training session, she will be your point of reference.” I scan the room and shake my head at the shocked look on everyone’s face. Hangman clears his throat and smirks, “So .. she is some kind of liaison? Works with the SEAL teams?” Mav narrows his eyes, “No, she IS a SEAL and she will be helping us learn how to work better with them.” I meet Bradley’s eyes and pull out a $10 bill. Walking over to his seat, I set it on the table in front of him. I turn back around, “C’mon y’all. I am just a female SEAL, I don’t have three heads or snakes for hair.” There is scattered laughter and Mav clears his throat, “Okay people, get to work. Rodeo will be in the hangar or my office if you need her.” The pilots disperse and I follow Mav to start looking over training procedures and past mission optics.

.

.

The first couple of weeks were exhausting. Work was extremely busy and when I was home, I was unpacking. The bungalow was coming together nicely. It is right by the beach, so I can take daily strolls down by the water. I open up another box and my phone dings.

Bradley: Y/N! No excuses. Bonfire. My house.

Less than ten seconds later it dings again.

Bradley: I am serious. You can literally walk here. No excuses.

I sigh and write back.

Y/N: Okay, but only for a bit. I still have a lot of shit to build.

I walk into my bedroom and do a once over in the mirror. Jean shorts, white tank top, and a baseball cap. I grab a hoodie just in case and head down the street.

.

.

I hear music playing and smell smoke as I get close to Bradley’s house. I open up the back gate to the whole squad in the backyard. Hangman smirks, “Well howdy Rodeo. Fancy seeing you here.” Bradley runs up and wraps you in a hug, “You actually came! What do you need help building?” The squad all starts chiming in before you can respond. “Oh I can help!” “Where do you live?” “Did you walk here?” I wait for the chatter to die down, “I’m right up the street. Only have a few of the bigger things left. Bookcase, bed frame, that kinda stuff.” Bradley throws his arm around your shoulders, “I’ll come over tomorrow and get it all built.” I look up at him, “No! It’s the weekend! You should relax. I’ll get it all done eventually.” The rest of them start offering to come help and before you know it, everyone is planning on coming to your house. The house that is littered with boxes. I cringe and think about all of the tidying I need to do before they arrive. I head inside and grab a coke from Bradley’s fridge. The floor creaks and I whip around to see Hangman. “Sorry darling, didn’t mean to scare ya.” “What do you want, Hangman?” “Well I was just thinking that maybe we got off on the wrong foot. Thought maybe we could start over.” You laughed, “And what had you thinking that?” He shrugged, “I was a total jerk. You can ask around, I am THE unit asshole. But I honestly didn’t mean to be disrespectful. Wasn’t raised that way.” You look up at him, “How were you raised?” He smiles real wide, “In Texas. Yes sir and yes ma’am. Two sisters that dragged me around and told me what to do. You from Texas? Or just a Longhorn fan?” He asks while motioning towards your baseball cap. “From Texas. No college for me, though. Enlisted, boot camp, prep, BUDs. Nothing too exciting.” Hangman chuckled and shook his head, “Yeah, totally, nothing too exciting at all. How long have you been in?” “10 years. How about you?” “Got in right after college, 16 years ago. Remember? I am old.” He winks and I feel heat in my cheeks. He steps a little bit closer, “So are you and Bradshaw.. you know?” I laugh so hard that I snort. The back door opens up and Bradley looks between us, raising his brow. I finally stop laughing, “No. We met at my first duty station. He is the annoying older brother I never asked for.” Bradley rolls his eyes, “Hangman, leave Rodeo alone.” I walk towards Bradley and playfully nudge him with my elbow, “It’s fine. We are just getting to know each other.” Bradley shakes his head, “I know. That’s exactly what I am worried about.” I laugh and follow Bradley back to the bonfire. Hangman comes out a few minutes later and I say my goodbyes to the group. I am met with groans and “No please stay”s. Hangman clears his throat, “Let me walk you back, it’s getting pretty late.” Pheonix whispers something to Bob and they both crack up. Bradley turns, “Bagman, I think she will be just fine.” I nod my head, “Yeah I think I can handle myself, but thank you.” Hangman shakes his head and stands up, “Darling we already talked about this, I am a southern man. Can’t let you walk back all by yourself. Even though you are a big, bad SEAL.” He smiles and opens the gate, motioning for me to walk ahead. Bradley is noticeably angry and I smile at him, “It’s okay, I’ll see y’all tomorrow.”

.

.

Hangman follows me until we reach the front porch. He scans the little bungalow, “Cute place. I’ll see you tomorrow .. wait I just realized I only know your callsign.” I chuckle, “Same. Unless your mother named you Hangman.” He laughs and puts out his hand, “Jake Seresin.” I shake his hand, “Y/n Y/l/n.” I grab my keys and unlock the front door, “Well, thank you for walking me back Jake. See you tomorrow?” He smiles so wide you can see every one of his perfectly straight teeth, “Yes ma’am. You sure will.” He turns and starts back up the street. I walk inside and shut the door, leaning my head against it for a second. I shake my head in attempts to get rid of the thoughts of him. His smell. His annoyingly perfect smile. I text Bradley to let him know I got back safe and head to bed.

[planetpiastri]

💝 Bob please and 11. "their contact name being formatted differently than everyone else" from the are we friends, or more? prompt list

this trope is my kryptonite, hope u enjoy anon x | [wc - 0.7k] | join my prompt party!

“Why do we even bother? He’s obviously not coming,” said Hangman indifferently, leaning down to line up his pool shot.

“Give him a minute,” Phoenix snapped from her place at your shoulder, her phone held to her ear and currently ringing for Bob. “He said he’d be here. It’s weird for him to just…not show up.”

“Maybe he got tired of losing at pool,” said Hangman with a shit-eating grin, straightening up satisfactorily as he pocketed two balls.

“He beat me last time,” Fanboy pointed out.

“That’s not a competition,” Hangman retorted.

“He’ll be here,” interjected Rooster, taking a sip of his beer. “When’s the last time he didn’t show up to one of these? Calm down.”

“But when’s the last time Bob’s been late?” Phoenix shot back before groaning and pulling her phone away from her ear. She turned to look at you with a pleading expression. “Back me up here. This is weird, right?”

You suddenly realized everyone was staring at you expectantly. The buzzed, warm atmosphere of the Hard Deck suddenly felt a bit stifling. Usually you loved the teasing jibes and snarky retorts traded between the aviators over a few games of pool and a few more beers, but something about tonight felt…off.

Probably for the exact reason everyone was discussing at the moment.

“It is weird for him to flake,” you ceded reluctantly. “He usually at least gives us a text if he knows he’s not gonna make it.”

“Okay, so call him, then,” said Hangman, sounding exasperated. “Make sure he’s not dead.” He nudged Coyote. “It’s your shot. Would you go?”

“We have been calling him, dickhead,” snapped Phoenix. “He’s not picking up.”

“No, make the other one call him,” said Hangman, pointing at you with his cue as if you weren’t right there. “His favorite.”

Your cheeks burned with the knowledge that everyone else had picked up on you and Bob’s close bond. “I am not—”

“Please,” said Hangman arrogantly. “We are not in middle school. Just own it. We’ve all seen the little glances and inside jokes.”

Your mouth flapped open and shut uselessly. The pool game had been forgotten. Everyone was watching you with amused expressions. You stuttered out, “I do that with Phoenix, too!”

Hangman squinted at you disbelievingly before turning back to the game, like you weren’t even worth the effort of arguing with. That more than anything else rubbed you the wrong way.

“Okay, fine,” you said. “I will call him. And he won’t pick up, just like he didn’t pick up when Phoenix and Fanboy called, and we can put this to bed.”

You expected everyone to laugh at you, or shake their heads and go back to their other activities. What you didn’t expect was for everyone—Hangman included—to cluster around you and stare at your screen as you pulled out your phone.

You scrolled through your contacts quickly, wanting to just get it over with, but as you hovered your finger over Bob’s contact to call, Payback said, “Hang on—”

Right on cue, Hangman swiped your phone out of your hand and held it above your head.

“Give it back!” you cried, embarrassment flooding your body. “Seriously? You’re the one who just said we aren’t in middle school!”

“‘B. Bradshaw,’” Hangman read aloud, holding you at bay with his free hand. He was beaming. “‘J. Machado—J. Seresin—N. Trace—M. Garcia—R. Fitch.’ But would you look at this?” He scrolled back up. “‘Bobby.’ With two—count ‘em, two—emojis.”

“Stop it!” you yelped, more than mortified.

“Which emojis?” called Fanboy, who was craning to try and see.

“The nerd with glasses face and a white heart,” said Payback. “Remind me, what does the white heart mean?”

“Marriage, definitely,” said Rooster with a teasing smirk.

“You guys are children,” you yelled, hoping desperately that you looked more confident than you felt. You shot Rooster a frustrated look. “Could you help me, please?”

It was Coyote who swiped your phone out of Hangman’s hand, taking a moment to examine the proof for himself before handing it back to you. You snatched it quickly, sure that everyone could see just how flustered you were. They all watched you with amused, knowing expressions, waiting for you to defend yourself.

But then your phone buzzed in your hand, and everyone looked down.

Incoming call from: Bobby 🤓🤍

Someone snickered. You fought to maintain your dignity and straightened your posture, saying, “Excuse me, I have a call. I’m going to take this outside.”

Everyone whooped and laughed as you pushed in between Fanboy and Phoenix and started to walk towards the back deck. With shaking fingers, you accepted the call. 

“Hi, Bobby. I think they know.”

[roosterforme]

A Love You Don't Find Everyday Part 16 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You unfortunately let Phoenix talk you into going to the Hard Deck on a night when it was swarming with sailors. And there's only so much that can be done to keep both Bradley and Jake safe during their special mission. 

Warnings: Angst, fluff, and swearing

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

You knew from Bradley's emails that he was flying his mission today, you just weren't sure what time. You only seemed to be able to think about him and Jake, wondering what they were doing and if they were staying safe. 

Your wedding was less than two weeks away now, and you were leaving work early to drop off your permits with the county office. That was the last thing you had to do. Your plan was to finish writing your vows and making the photo collage this weekend. Then you'd truly be all set for the wedding, and one of Bradley's gifts would be complete. 

Now he just needed to make it back in time so you could pull off the most spectacular surprise of all time, with a little help from Mav.

When you got home, you played with Tramp and argued with Phoenix over text about whether or not you should go to the Hard Deck tonight. It just wasn't the same without Bradley there, but it was even worse now. You knew you were a little antsy, but you wouldn't even be able to tell anyone that it was because your wedding was coming up!

But she got you to agree to go if she picked you up on her way there. So now you were scrambling to get changed into some cutoff shorts, a cute top and your boat shoes before she arrived. You were still eating the sandwich you made and feeding Tramp his dinner when she let herself in the front door.

"You look cute," she said, giving you a look. "That looks like something you'd wear out with Bradley."

"I know," you said between bites of food. "I need to do laundry tomorrow."

Phoenix just sighed. "You sure you don't want to throw on a sweatshirt or one of his massive tees? There's a carrier docking like right now. The bar is going to be swarming with guys."

You just rolled your eyes at her. "This is hardly inappropriate, and it's like a million degrees outside." But now you understood why she was wearing jeans and a baggy shirt. The guys could be a bit relentless when there was a ship in port. "Hey, maybe I can get a free drink," you said with a shrug. 

But five minutes into your night, you realized you had made a mistake. 

"Why did you bring me here?" you growled at Phoenix as you waited in a massive crowd of people to get a beer. "I could be sitting in my backyard with a drink that I didn't have to physically fight someone for!"

But she just shrugged. "It's not as crowded by the pool table."

After a few more minutes, you groaned and told her, "I just want one fucking beer!"

The guy in front of you turned around and smiled at you, and then you heard him add another beer to his order with Penny. 

Your cheeks felt a little warm as he turned around and held a bottle out in your direction. "Here you go, gorgeous. One fucking beer."

You were flustered, not quite sure what to do. So you reached for it, and he pulled it back with a grin. "Just tell me your name first."

"I'm engaged," you responded with an eye roll.

"Wow, that's such a pretty name," he said with a laugh, and you had to keep yourself from laughing at how ridiculous this was becoming. 

"I can buy my own beer, but thanks anyway," you told him, trying to push past him to the bar while Nat shoved you from behind.

"You can have it. I don't even mind if you're engaged. I'm only off the carrier for the night," he told you with a smirk. Now that Nat was ordering her drink, you decided to take the free beer from this guy because he was being such an asshole. 

"Oh? You don't mind?" you asked with your best attempt at a charming smile. 

"Not at all. And my name's Will. You don't need to tell me yours, but I just wanted you to have something to scream later."

You just grimaced at him before putting the bottle to your lips and chugging the entire thing in front of him. He watched with interest as you wiped your lips with the back of your hand and leaned past him to slam the empty down on the bartop. 

"Well, thanks a lot, Will. The beer was delish. I'll just be going now," you told him, grabbing his hand and holding it up so you could give him an awkward high five. 

"I'll be at the pool table," you told Phoenix before turning on your heel and squeezing your way back through the crowd. But you realized Will was following you.

"Hey, wait up! Let's go outside!"

"Seriously?" you mumbled, not sure what else you needed to do to turn this man off to the idea of you. But that's when you spotted the guys playing pool. 

"Hey, come on," Fanboy called to you across the table to you. "I need a partner."

But you reached Coyote first and wrapped your arms around his waist right as he was saying hi to you. "Oh, hey," he said with a laugh, patting you on the back. "It's nice to see you, too."

"There's a guy," you mumbled, glancing over your shoulder. "He bought me a beer and I accepted it when I really shouldn't have. Oh shit, he's still coming! I thought he'd leave when he saw me with you."

"What guy?" Payback asked, tossing his pool cue down on the table and turning to look. 

Will stopped short when he saw you with Coyote, Payback, Fanboy and Bob. 

"I thought you were joking about being engaged," he said, holding his hands up. "Since you took the drink."

"She's not joking, man," Coyote said, keeping his arm around your shoulders. 

Will just shrugged and said, "Your girl's a tease," before he started to turn away.

But now Payback was starting to look like he wanted to punch the guy, and you felt terrible for letting this happen. 

"You want me to pay you for the beer? Fine," you said, digging in your pocket for some cash.

But Payback set down his glass and said in a very calm voice, "We'll consider the drink you bought her a peace offering. Now apologize for calling her a tease, and you can be on your way."

Will looked at him for a minute before turning to you and Coyote. "Sorry." And then he walked back into the crowd. 

Just then, Nat strolled up with four beer bottles in her hands. "You guys missed the funniest thing! She got a free drink from some guy who told her he wanted to fuck her even though she said she's engaged!"

You just cradled your head in your hands. "That's what he said to you?" Bob asked, going pink in the face. 

"Where the fuck did he go?" Payback snarled, cracking his knuckles. 

"Everyone calm down!" you said, pushing away the bottle Phoenix tried to give you and grabbing Payback's hand. "I'm never coming here when there's a carrier making a port of call ever again! And next time we go out, I'm wearing a trash bag."

But soon everyone went about their business again. And you were happy you didn't feel alone when Bradley and Jake were both gone. Fanboy handed you a pool cue, and you joined the game. 

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

Bradley and Jake woke up and did the exact same thing as each other all day long. They showered, ate breakfast, got some fresh air, went over their final flight briefings, ate lunch, and then dressed in their flight suits.

If you had told Bradley then that the day would change so dramatically for just one of them, he would have found it hard to believe. But that's that way things always seemed to go. 

"You ready?" he asked Jake who was still getting his helmet bag packed up. "What do you have in there anyway?"

"Mosty snacks," Jake said. "Maybe someday I'll have something a little bit more special inside. What's in yours?"

"Mostly snacks,' Bradley said with a laugh. "And a picture or two." He pulled out a printout of a selfie he had taken of you and him holding Tramp between the two of you in your backyard. Jake looked at it and shook his head with a grin. 

"You two thinking about having kids?" he asked, putting his helmet on. 

Bradley laughed. "If I had it my way, she would already be pregnant."

"Yeah," Jake replied, shaking his head. "I don't know why I even asked you that. Angel already told me you want kids right away."

Bradley put his helmet on as well, and they both started walking out to the airstrip. "I find it really disturbing that the two of you have 'girl talk' sessions."

Jake scoffed. "You don't seem to mind it when you put your foot in your mouth and I'm there to bail you out, Bradshaw."

Bradley really couldn't argue with that. He loaded into his F/A-18 and started on his safety checks, missing the days from last year when you were on the other end of his radio communications. But he checked in with some faceless voice in the tower, and he listened to Jake do the same. And soon they were airborne, launching off of catapults one and two with Bradley taking the lead position. 

Bradley checked in with the Comanche for a radar update, and then soon he and Jake were entering enemy airspace for a mission that should have been a quick in and out again. They would need to conserve all four of their missiles for the mission to be a success, so just knowing a dogfight scenario would come down to guns and flares had Bradley a little wary. 

"You all good?" he asked Jake, turning to see him over his right wing.

"All good."

And then it was time to attack, and Bradley fell back into the comfortable way that his mind seemed to take over and keep him calm without the rest of his emotions fighting for dominance. Was he thinking about you? Of course he was, but you were always at the back of his mind. Was he still focusing on what needed to be done with almost exact precision? Yes, because he wanted to stay alive. 

"Attack," he informed Jake at just the right moment, and then Jake split off to the right, behind a mountain range and out of sight. 

They were in constant radio communication as they each eliminated two perimeter targets, and then Bradley flew along a river while Jake flew parallel to the mountain range. This would put Bradley at the coastline first, but Jake should have been close enough for Bradley to see him. 

"Hey Hangman, how far?" 

"About twenty miles."

He had no idea how Jake had managed to fall so far behind, but he would make up twenty miles in less than two minutes. However, now Bradley couldn't see him, and he had to make a decision about lingering for his wingman or conserving his fuel. 

Bradley punched back on the throttle, easing his speed back. He kept checking his mirrors and turning around to look for the telltale glimmer of the dying sunlight on the canopy of Jake's aircraft. It wasn't easy to catch unless you were looking for it. 

But he waited, checking in with the carrier a few times, when finally, he saw what he hoped was Hangman.

"Out over the water," Jake told him. "Coming in hot."

"Copy," Bradley replied, throttling back up to his previous speed. He made sure both he and Jake were cleared for landing and then went down first, hooking the tow line, and waiting for the deck crew team to pull his aircraft safely to the side, making room for Jake to land. 

Bradley was just opening his canopy when he saw Jake buzz the tower, which was very unlike him. Then he heard Jake say, "Complete engine failure," through the radio in his helmet before it cut out. 

"What the fuck is going on?" Bradley asked the ground crew as he scrambled down the ladder. But everyone was frozen in place, awaiting instructions. The intercom started blaring over the deck, and Bradley ripped his helmet off just as Jake brought his jet around again.

It was too late to get the barricades ready if he was truly in full engine failure, and it was also impossible for Jake to get enough altitude to eject. 

"Fuck," Bradley whispered as Jake came down at a strange angle that made him cringe and cover his mouth. It sounded like he had lost both engines, and trying to get onto the deck was the only option. 

Bradley stood back with the deck crew as they raised an additional cable to try to catch the tail hook. But he knew the angle was too extreme, and Bradley watched in horror as Jake hit the deck a little too hard before skidding over both of the cable lines. Since he had no means to lift off and try for a second landing without his engines, everyone had to watch Jake's aircraft skid the length of the runway and then go careening into the Pacific Ocean. 

It felt like someone had sucker punched him, and Bradley sputtered for a few seconds before he started to make a run for the end of the carrier deck. There were crew members everywhere, and even more flooding out of the tower. The closer Bradley got to the end, he was finally able to see Jake's Super Hornet, half sunk in the water sideways. But it was too far away for Bradley to make out where exactly Jake was.

He turned around, trying to find someone who could make sense of what was happening, but it felt like everyone was moving in slow motion. Nobody was moving fast enough to get Jake out of the water before he drowned as the cockpit started taking on water. 

Bradley could hear himself screaming out questions that didn't quite make sense even to himself. But nobody was answering him. Before giving it too much thought, he started yanking at the laces of his boots and pulling them off one at a time. Then he was ripping off his gear and unzipping his flight suit, stripping down to just his compression shorts. 

The deck was about sixty feet above the water, which should only be marginally painful for Bradley, as long as he jumped straight. Otherwise he would just be creating more problems. But now Jake's aircraft was starting to sink, and he hadn't opened the canopy yet. 

So Bradley took a running jump into the freezing cold water to try to save his teammate, only partly because he knew you'd probably never forgive him if there was something he could have done but decided not to.

The water was ice cold, and all of Bradley's skin was burning from the impact as he was sloshed around by the waves as he tried to kick to resurface. He was gasping for air as soon as he broke the surface, and then he was off and swimming as fast as he could toward the F/A-18 that was mostly underwater. 

When he reached the cockpit, he could tell it was still sealed. But then he saw that Jake was fighting against the water pressure to get the canopy open. The further underwater the plane sank, the harder it would be to open it. Bradley took a deep breath and went under, pounding on the canopy until he had Jake's attention. He needed Jake to open all the latches, and then he could try to help him pull it open. 

Jake was scrambling with the last latch, and Bradley went back up for another breath of air. This time, when he went under, he planted his feet against the metal panel and pulled as Jake pushed. The cockpit immediately took on water as soon as they opened it just a few inches. He watched Jake get soaked and hit in the face with a wave of salt water, but then it became a little easier to pry the canopy open a few feet. 

As Jake started to squeeze through the opening, the Super Hornet started sinking in earnest. Bradley knew getting Jake to the surface in his gear would be the hardest part of this entire disaster, so he pushed himself up to the surface for one more good breath of air.

This time his lungs were burning as he dove down deeper, his hands connecting with some part of Jake's flight suit before he pushed off of the metal with both feet. He was kicking for everything he was worth, trying to keep a good hold on Jake's arm or leg. But Bradley's lungs were on fire. He could barely stand the pain. He was starting to lose his vision as he kicked harder and harder. He hoisted Jake over his head and pushed him to the surface, letting himself float up as his limbs gave out.

When Bradley felt the cold air hit his face, he opened his eyes, suddenly alert again. Jake's body was refusing to float from the weight of the soaking wet flight suit, and his eyes were closed. Bradley got his fingers on Jake's neck to find his pulse and made sure he still had a strong heartbeat, then he grabbed him under both armpits and kicked relentlessly to keep him above water. 

And thank god there was finally a diving crew jumping in now. Bradley kicked until he heard a woman telling him to stop, and that she had him while another diver had a hold on Jake. Bradley sank back into her grip, letting himself go boneless. And eventually they were all being raised back up to the deck where Bradley finally realized exactly how fucking freezing cold he was. 

Someone bundled him in blankets while he watched Jake's flight suit being cut off of him. "Oh, fuck," Bradley whispered, dropping to his knees on the airstrip and staring at the surreal scene in front of him. Jake's forehead was bleeding profusely and his lips were blue from the temperature of the water. But at least his eyes were open, and then he rolled onto his side and started coughing up water. 

Bradley sat quietly on the deck for a moment, but when a smile broke out on Jake's face, he couldn't help but smile too.

"Well, that fucking sucked," Jake sputtered as he rolled onto his back again. 

Bradley laughed. "You scared the shit out of me, man."

"You're insane," Jake said quietly. "Angel is going to be so mad."

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

You were exhausted and irritable by the time Phoenix dropped you back off at home. Your night had been terrible right off the bat. You shouldn't have accepted the beer from that guy just to try to get under his skin. You really hated guys like that, the ones who couldn't take the hint when a girl wasn't interested in them. 

You brushed your teeth and got changed for bed, leaving your glasses on your nightstand before lifting Tramp up into bed with you. Should you start a new pill pack? You had been looking at it sitting next to the bed for the past few days. If you didn't take it now, your cycle would be a mess if you changed your mind in a few days. But if you didn't take a pill and also didn't change your mind... well, you were ready now. 

You tossed your unopened birth control pills into your nightstand drawer, next to your new necklace charm and a stack of paper airplanes. Bradley had been telling you for months, ever since you thought you might have gotten pregnant in La Jolla, that he was ready when you were. That it was up to you. 

You took a few deep breaths to calm your nerves. Sometimes the pain you felt from missing Bradley was as much physical as mental, and right now, your body was aching. It almost felt like you'd been out in the sun too long after getting bashed by ocean waves. You felt stiff and achy and uncomfortable. You were trying not to think about the fact that you had no idea what was going on with Bradley and Jake's mission. But you supposed no news was good news, at least as far as a deployment special mission was concerned. 

So you turned off your lamp and snuggled up with Tramp, spinning your engagement ring on your finger and reminding yourself that Bradley would be back soon with Jake in tow. Hopefully just in time for your perfect, surprise wedding. 

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

Too much excitement! Holy shit. And how's Bradley going to feel about Baby Girl discreetly going off birth control?

PART 17

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[talktomegooseman]

Missed You Darlin

Ship: Jake Hangman Seresin x Fem! Reader Word Count: 1,095 Authors Note: For @roosterforme’s rocktober challenge! Features The Chair by George Strait. Jake is a George fan and y’all can pry that from me Trigger Warnings: Mention of pregnancy, minor swearing, mention of being sick/naueseous

Jake watched the patrons of the Hard Deck like a hawk, waiting to see you walk in. He was getting restless, and it was starting to bug Javy. “Jake. She’ll be here. Don’t worry.” He says, clapping his friend on the shoulder, walking towards the bar to get another beer. Jake didn’t say a word, just kept staring at the door.

You had just pulled into the parking lot of the beloved bar, rifling through your bag for a mint to suck on to keep your nausea at bay. It was still early on in your pregnancy and you found out not long after Jake got on the carrier for the mission. When he came home just hours before, you felt a little sick, but told Jake it was just anxious excitement for him to be home, and that you had something to tell him after your shift at work was over.

You felt his ring sitting at the base of your throat on the chain that he gave you before he left, promising to keep it safe for him. You felt your ring, a light weight on your finger, and you smiled down at it, touching the ring on your throat with your free hand, smiling. You took a breath, and got out of the car, making your way to the entrance of the bar. You opened the doors, and were met with the sound of a jukebox, and endless chatter. 

Jake’s head whipped towards the door for the umpteenth time that night, and his eyes met yours. “Javy, change the song on the jukebox. You know the one.” He whispers to his friend, a grin on his face, heading towards you, as the rest of the squad groaned.

“Hangman. Don’t. She’s got a ring on her finger.”  Fanboy and Rooster say in unison. “Dumbass.” Phoenix says, putting her face in her hands. “Hangman, I know you’re stupid, but you ain’t dumb. What the everlasting hell are you doing?” Bob asks as he walks past him. “It’s fine y’all. You’ll see.” Jake says, making his way to where you sat.

“Well excuse me, but I think you’ve got my chair.” You hear a voice say behind you. “Is it taken?” You ask, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “No it’s not taken, I’ll be glad to share.” Jake says, sitting on the stool next to yours. “Hey sweetheart, is he bugging you?” Penny asks, a protective look in her eyes. “Pen. You and I both know I wouldn’t quote a George Strait song to just anyone. This is my wife, Y/N.” He says, as you give Penny a smile and a small wave.

Back at the pool table, the squad watches the interaction. “The hell is he doing?” Rooster asks, watching as he places a hand on your lower back while you both talk to Penny. Javy returns to the pool table, after getting the song ready to go. “Like he said, you’ll see.” He replies, leaning up against the side of the table. 

“Hey darlin. You got my ring?” “Oh yeah! Here.” You reply, taking the chain from your neck, giving it to Jake, as he removes the band from the chain, and slips it onto his finger. “Feels good to have this back on.” “Feels good to have you back home safe and sound.” You whisper, as your hand rests on his cheek. “Darlin, you have no idea how much I missed you. Let’s dance. I got Pen to get our song on vinyl and convinced Javy to put it on next.” He says, leading you to the pool table near the jukebox. “I’m glad this is our song. The Chair is what started it all.” He says, pulling you close, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Me too. And there’s more to come.” You say, feeling the beat of his heart.

“What do you mean by that sweets?” He asks, pulling away just enough to look at you. You bring a hand to your lower abdomen, tears in your eyes. “I’m pregnant Jake. Found out two days after you left.” He stares at you for a moment, and then breaks out in a smile. “Really darlin’? Are you really?” “Yeah I am. Now as much as I love you and Mr. Strait, can we sit down and you grab me a ginger ale? Morning sickness is kicking my ass this week.” “Of course sweets. Mind if I take you over to Javy and the rest of the gang?” He asks, as you nod. 

Javy can’t help but grin as you and Jake walk over, an arm slung around your shoulders. A chorus of questions starts to form, but Jake ignores them, nods to Javy and goes to get your drink. “Penny my dear. Could I get a round of beers for the squad and a ginger ale for Y/N?” “Comin right up Hangman.” Penny says, grabbing the drinks and giving them to Jake.

He heads back to the group, sitting next to you. “Ok, Ok, I know y’all have a million questions. This is my wife Y/N. We’ve been married for 2 years, and knew each other years before that. Javy was the best man at my wedding, and that little charade you saw earlier? That’s been planned since we got called back for the mission.” He says, wrapping an arm around you. You wave and smile at the group. “Hey guys. Everything Jake said is true. He’s told me a lot about you. It’s nice to meet you all finally.” You say, leaning into Jake’s embrace. “It’s nice to have some more ladies around. Being around all these men can be tiring sometimes.” Phoenix says, with a laugh and you nod. 

You stay and talk with the group until late into the night, and Penny tell the group to leave. You say your goodbyes, and head to the car. “Did you ride with Javy?” “Yeah, I’ll drive home.” Jake says, his hand out silently asking for the keys. You give them to him, and he opens your door, before getting in himself. The drive home is met with a comfortable silence. 

You and Jake head inside, kicking off shoes and stealing passionate kisses. “Missed you darlin. Now can we make up for that missed time?” “Missed you too baby. We can make up for that missed time, so long as nugget agrees.” You say breaking the kiss, squealing, as Jake lifts you over his shoulder and takes you to the bedroom.