#pornstache x reader

[retrosabers]

thinking about going to see top gun with steve in the summer of 86. falling head over heels for goose, more specifically, his mustache. don’t think steve doesn’t take notice because he does, and he’s nothing if not a mischievous little shit so of course he makes a mental note of it. i imagine maybe a week or so after, your parents decide to go on an impromptu weeklong vacation, thus unwillingly dragging you away from your boyfriend. steve takes your absence as an opportunity to test his little theory. when you come back to hawkins, you’re dropping your bags and immediately running over to steve’s. you can’t go more than a few days without being around each other, realistically just jumping each other’s bones. you’re aching with desire, needing him so bad it’s almost desperate, and when you open the door to find out steve grew a fucking pornstache, you’re ripping his clothes off in the doorway and having your way with him

[hungharrington]

Hot or not … Steve with a pornstache??

HOT!!!!! HOT HOT HOT!!!! god i love that u can see the start of one growing in s4, the wispy baby one on his top lip…. he’s such a baby boy my god

pornstache steve would be insufferable about it as well— like you see how well he takes care of his hair? he’s got the most primped and primed stache around, this thing is clean and styled (even if the style is to let it grow a lil messily hehe) and oh my god, he would be so annoying about it— all your kisses turn into an opportunity for him to rub it against your face like a cat because you always scrunch your nose up and go “steve!” and he loves that, loves that u pout and go ‘it’s so scratchy, stoppppp’ but are grinning the whole time so he knows you’re not really that annoyed. and he gets an excuse to nuzzle you which he sorta always wants to do :’) besides, he knows you definitely love the subtle scratch of it against your thighs when he eats you out, they’re just like little tiny extra kisses on your soft skin that just add as he spreads you and fucks you with his tongue and oh my god, one time you pull on his hair too hard, writhing beneath him because he’s working your clit just the right way and steve pulls off you to get you to ease your grip— but when you look down, about to ask why he’s stopped, you see your own slick on his face, down his chin and on his stache and he just presses a sweet kiss to your thigh, murmurs, “not so hard, okay honey?” before he dives back in and christ, if you can’t help but picture that every time your brain goes wondering— so yeah, u like the pornstache. hot :)

come join the sleepover!

[dreamlandcreations]

Overtime

It was just supposed to be a football game. But then Hangman took Syla up on her invitation to watch the Blue Angels perform at the Miramar air show. A month after meeting and facing the last home show of her career, the history making Naval Aviator invited Hangman to visit her in Pensacola. She didn't actually expect him to accept. Payback definitely wasn't happy.

A continuation of First and Goal. This got away from me at 5.1K words. No physical description of the reader, callsign is Syla (pronounced like Cilla) and she's a Florida State fan.

Cross-posted on Ao3.

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

The humidity hit Jake in the face as he exited the Pensacola airport. His eyes darted up and then to the line of cars. “I’m under the Delta sign.”

“Okay, I’m pulling out of the cellphone lot,” Syla said. He heard her humming and felt his lip twitch. Over the month they’d been talking, he’d heard it many, many times, usually when she was focused on something. Once, when they’d done a video call while she was in Oregon, he’d asked her if she hummed while flying and was promptly flipped off. “I...think I see you.” The call disconnected as a blue convertible Mini Cooper stopped in front of him. Payback scowled, elbowing him out of the way as Syla got out and circled the car. 

“Reuben!” she squealed. Jake rolled his eyes, grabbing the other man’s bag as he hugged Syla, lifting her off her feet. Payback hadn’t been thrilled to find out he wasn’t the only one who had requested leave to head down to Florida for the Blue Angels homecoming show. Hell, Syla had been surprised when Jake had quickly accepted her half-joking invitation.

Jake had gone to the show in Miramar. It was his first time seeing them since their flyover at his Academy graduation, which he’d only half paid attention to back then. The Blue Angels were good PR for the Navy but had never caught his attention - pilots stuck repeating the same maneuvers every time? Sounded almost as bad as being assigned to desk duty. He'd take dog fighting every time if given the choice between it and the flying equivalent of synchronized swimming. But, after going through flight school and some experience with formation flying, he had a new respect for the Angels. 

The way Syla filled out her tight blue flight suit definitely didn’t hurt matters. Jake had managed to get close enough to watch the team march in a line to their jets and climb in, trading out their caps for helmets before taxiing and taking off in formation. For an hour, he watched them execute loops, inversions, pitches, and breaks. After the show, he’d joined the queue for her autograph and grinned at her surprised look. As she signed the team picture, he asked her about not wearing a g-suit that helped keep blood from pooling in the lower extremities and forced it toward the brain. From his estimation, they were pulling at least 7Gs at points.

“Can’t,” Syla had shrugged. “We have our right arm on our thigh for stability and to help with the 40-pound spring tensioned on the stick. Air bladders would inflate at the worst time and ruin the maneuver. ‘Sides, since we fly it constantly, we know when to tense to avoid G-LOC.” Sliding her aviators down her nose, the Blue Angel smirked and slid the picture across the table to him. “Good to see you again, Hangman.” 

Her phone number was under her loopy signature. 

“Hey,” Jake said when she turned her attention to him, eyebrow raised over her sunglasses. Crossing her arms over her chest, forcing her breasts higher into the tank top she wore, Syla cocked her hip. 

“I have so many questions. First - what the hell is with the pornstache?” Grinning, Jake ran a hand over his mustache. 

“Don’t like it?”

“You look like the other guy in your squad… um…” she snapped her fingers, glancing at Payback.

“Rooster.”

“Rooster! That’s right. He can pull off a mustache.”

“I make a mustache look good,” he chuckled, dropping the bags into the open trunk. Shaking her head, she stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his waist. 

“Jury’s out. Also, people are gonna think you’re a Gator or Canes fan in that orange.”

“Hook ‘em, baby.” Over her head, Jake caught Payback’s eye roll.

“Alright,” Syla said, stepping out of his loose embrace and slamming the trunk closed. “Get in so we can go grab dinner. I’m starving.” 

“Please tell me we’re getting some seafood,” Payback moaned, beelining for the front seat. Jake rolled his eyes, following Syla around the car and pulling open the door for her before ducking into the back seat. His knees pressed into her seat, and he shifted to try and get more comfortable. 

The two aviators chatted while Syla pulled out of the airport and drove through Pensacola. It had been years since Jake had been back. Like many Naval aviators, his career had begun at a local flight school while stationed at NAS Whiting Field, just across the bridge and a couple of miles down I-10 in Milton. While he’d enjoyed his time at Annapolis during the Academy, it had been fun to cut loose and spend weekends on the white sand beaches, flirting with tourists and drinking at dive bars. But after he’d moved on to Intermediate Flight Training, he’d never looked back. North Florida had little appeal for him. If he had to be stationed in the state, he would go for the Keys.

“You good back there, Hangman?” Syla asked, pulling him from his musing. She’d twisted in her seat, strands of hair that had escaped her regulation bun framing her face.

“All good, just looking at how much it’s changed.” She smiled, turning back around when the light turned green.

After grabbing dinner by the beach at a local spot called The Oar House, the trio made their way to Syla’s place. It was a cute little white house with a red - “garnet,” she’d corrected - door. As another condition of his coming, Payback claimed the one guest bedroom while Jake was relegated to the couch. 

It helped to know that Payback only had the bed for one night and would join him in sleeping in the living room when Syla’s parents arrived the next day. 

So, while Payback went to bed early to call his kid, Jake and Syla hung out. At first, there had been some initial awkwardness, trying to navigate a friendship conducted mainly over the phone. It didn’t take long until Jake found himself itching to tuck her hair, free from the tight bun and damp from her shower, behind her ear. 

“Okay, I have to know,” she said, setting her glass on the coffee table before facing him. Propping her elbow against the back of the couch, she buried a hand in her hair and smirked. “What’s with the mustache? You weren’t deployed, so it’s not a deployment ‘stache. Or is this like a normal thing for you?”

“Definitely not a normal thing for me,” he chuckled, setting his beer on the coffee table and turning to mirror her. At her cocked eyebrow, he shrugged. “Payback.” 

“Are we talking Reuben or revenge for something?”

“A bit of both. He’s real protective of you and wasn’t happy to hear that we’ve been talking. Or that I was coming here.”

“Oh god, are you telling me you look like that because of me?” She let her head fall back at his shrug while taking a deep breath. The move pulled her sleep shirt tight against her chest, and he could see her pebbled nipples through the material. “I’m gonna kill him.” 

“It’s fine.” And it was. It was worth it if this was the penalty for violating the bro code - as the rest of the Daggers had ruled when they found out about his contact with Syla. 

“Your pretty face shouldn’t be sacrificed for his petty male ego.” 

“You think I’m pretty?” Jake teased. Syla lowered her head and gave him an unimpressed look. With a huff, she ran her thumb over his mustache. 

“When you don’t have a fuzzy caterpillar on your face.” Amusement sparkled in his green eyes when Syla raised hers from his mouth to meet his. Her fingers rasped on his stubble as they glided across his jaw. Jake watched, biting back a groan when she played with the hair on the nape of his neck. Gentle pressure guided him closer as her tongue darted to wet her lips. A smirk curved his mouth as his gaze narrowed to hers. 

A throat cleared, and Syla jumped, her hand falling to her lap. Payback stood beside the television, arms crossed over his chest. “Am I interrupting something?” he asked. 

“Absolutely,” Syla replied, even as pink dusted her cheeks. Payback’s eyes darted to Jake, who shrugged. “Oh no - this is not… If you have a problem with me talking to Jake, you’ll talk to me about it, Reuben.” 

“Okay. I don’t like it. You don’t know Hangman.” 

“Cool. Good to know. That’s part of why we’re talking - to get to know one another.” He groaned her name, running a hand down his face. 

“He’s got a reputation in Miramar.” Jake flushed with embarrassment. Sure, he enjoyed a one-night stand, but he hadn’t had one in a while. Definitely not since he’d started talking to the pilot beside him.

“So you’re telling me he knows what he’s doing and can probably find the clit. That’s great to know.” Both men sputtered, and Syla laughed. “In case you haven’t noticed, Payback, I’m not the 22-year-old girl you met. And as much as I appreciate you looking out for me, I’m a pretty good judge of character. So if I want to talk to Jake, kiss him, and maybe have sex, that’s our decision.” Patting Jake’s shoulder, she stood and gave Payback a sweet smile. “And with that, gentlemen, I’m going to go to bed since I have work in the morning. You know, where I’m a history-making Naval aviator whose judgment is tested and proven every day that I’m in the air flying inches away from other aviators, where one small deviation could mean death for either of us. Night boys.”

The two men watched Syla walk to the hallway, pausing to pat Payback’s chest and closing her bedroom door. 

Jake fell a little bit in love.

“Morning,” Jake said, his voice rough with sleep. Syla smiled and waved, continuing towards the kitchen where the coffee pot gurgled. Scrubbing a hand through his hair, he joined her, taking the mug she slid across the counter and leaning against the stove, scratching his bare chest. 

“How’d you sleep?” she asked.

“Not the worst place I’ve bunked.”

“It’s a step above the carrier.” He smiled over the rim of his mug. He’d never dated a woman in the military and never would have even thought about pursuing another aviator. Sure, he enjoyed flirting with Phoenix to get a rise out of her, but their careers overlapped too much for him to ever think about pursuing anything. Plus, Rooster would kill him if he ever worked up the nerve to admit his feelings about his “best friend.”

But there was something comforting about talking with Syla. Over the last month, he’d enjoyed not having to explain things in his daily life. No explanation was needed when he rescheduled calls because he was doing late maneuvers. Honestly, she was the one doing the rescheduling more often than not. She was also the one who fell asleep when they were on the phone. He’d never admit it, but Jake usually stayed on the line for a few more minutes, listening to her soft breathing and half-heartedly hoping she’d wake before hanging up. 

“What’s your day look like?” he asked. Syla frowned and stepped past him to look at the calendar hanging on the refrigerator. 

“We’re briefing the show this morning and then going to a middle school. Not sure if we’re doing the interview there or if the camera crew is just getting footage. Then final dress rehearsal over the Gulf.” There was something sad in her eyes when she turned to meet his gaze. 

“What?”

“I just…” To his surprise, tears gathered in her eyes as she looked up at the ceiling and swallowed. “Sorry, just kinda hitting me that this is it.” Setting his mug down, he opened his arms. Syla rested her head on his shoulder, palms flat on his chest. Jake's hand ran up the back of her flight suit, tugging her closer as he brushed his lips against her temple. When she lifted her head, he kissed her cheek. But when he tried to do it again, she turned to meet him.

Their first kiss was a sweet one. Syla’s hands drifted up his chest to wrap around the back of his neck and tug him down as she surged onto her toes. He steadied her with hands on her hips, gripping the blue fabric tightly as she licked into his mouth. A groan escaped him as she smiled. The mustache prickled against her skin. 

“It’s too early for this.” 

“Morning, Reuben,” Syla sighed, dropping back onto her heels and resting her forehead against Jake’s chin. Slowly, she pulled away and looked at her friend. “Sleep well?”

“Other than a nightmare, yeah.” Chuckling, she stepped out of Jake’s arms and grabbed her travel coffee mug. 

“Duke is gonna pick me up so you can have my car for the day. I’ll be home around 5:30 or 6:00. My parent should be here around that time, too, so we’ll go out for dinner. I have to have an early night for the show tomorrow, but we can take two cars so you can have fun downtown.” The flight leader was happy to help her with a ride, seeing as he lived down the street. 

“An early night sounds good to me,” Jake nodded. 

“Great. Duke’s pulling up, so I’m headed out.” With a quick peck to both men’s cheeks, she left.

“You’re an ass,” Payback grumbled while opening the cabinets for a mug. Ignoring him, Jake returned to the couch and grabbed his cell phone, quickly pulling up their text thread.

Can confirm I know where the clit is

A few minutes later came her reply.

Seeing is believing

Syla woke early and pulled on her running gear. It was hard to sneak out of the house with the two aviators crashing in the living room, but she managed it. After slipping her earbuds in, she started her pre-show tradition of a five-mile run while mentally practicing the flight maneuvers. Hands clenched in front of her, she imagined Duke’s voice and positioned the stick and throttle. Deployed the smoke that allowed the crowd to follow them as they climbed. She would have the privilege of a sneak attack on the beach, buzzing the crowd who watched her wingmen fly ahead. 

Even after three seasons, every show made her nervous. And performing in front of the hometown crowd, while amazing, brought its own level of pressure. North Florida was the home to a huge military population. These people saw them the most - they practiced over the Naval Aviation Museum twice weekly and signed autographs. Hell, there was a sign as you got into town that said ‘Home of the Blue Angels.’ Pensacola had the Blue Angels, Corry Station, and Whiting Field, where many aviation careers started. The Air Force had three bases just an hour up the road - Hurlburt Field, Duke Field, and Eglin. Eglin had its own place in military aviation history, as it was where the pilots of the Doolittle Raid - the US’s retaliation on Japan following Pearl Harbor, where modified bombers had launched from the USS Hornet with no fighters as backup - had trained. The Air Force had their own fighter and test wings stationed there, and the Army was training special forces.

Further out were the two bases in Panama City - the Naval Support Activity Panama City and Tyndall Air Force Base, which housed their own fighter wing. That wasn’t even considering all of the veterans in the area. Syla had briefly dated someone who worked for the Veteran’s Administration, who had told her that the Gulf Coast was one of the fastest-growing areas for vets. 

So yeah, hometown shows made her nervous. And her dumb ass had invited a certain Lieutenant, who made her even more nervous. Who she outranked. As a Lieutenant Commander, she was responsible for ensuring they didn’t break any fraternization rules. And even though Jake wouldn’t be under her command - the Daggers were stationed at Miramar under TOPGUN but were not instructors - they might still get some looks.

Which was presuming that Jake even wanted something other than a fling. Panting, Syla stopped running and bent, wiping away the sweat on her brow. Even this early, the humidity was killer. “Fucking focus,” she ordered herself. 

There was nothing like an airshow. From the moment Syla stepped onto the tarmac, the energy was electric. For her last home show, they’d picked the theme of Celebrating Women in Aviation, focusing on the Women Airforce Service Pilots (WASPS) that began in WWII when the US needed pilots. Women could join the military to ferry, test, and deliver planes for repair. 

From the civilian aerobatic pilots to the Air Force’s Viper and F-35 demo teams and the explosive Tora Tora Tora reenactment, there was something for everyone. She joined her parents, Reuben, and Jake after the Angels’ morning briefing. While her parents and Reuben stayed in the tent, she and Jake did a quick walk around, pausing so she could sign autographs and take pictures. She was glad her sunglasses were on when a little girl traced over her embroidered wings and said she wanted to be a pilot, too. Jake’s fingers brushed hers as they walked, and she fought a smile. 

And then it was show time. Syla forced herself to focus on the moment. Doing anything else would endanger the team and her aircraft. So, she focused on saluting her flight crew and doing her checks. She wasn’t part of the diamond take-off formation but would be doing a high G vertical climb into an inversion. And then she thought about Duke’s final order - “Have fun.” 

So she did. She allowed herself to smile as she fought against gravity, admired the beautiful ocean she flew over, and laughed at the startled crowd as she executed the sneak pass. 

And yes, she did hum while doing it. 

Sunday was harder. Syla woke up early for her run and was surprised to find Jake awake in the kitchen, shirtless and wearing running shorts and sneakers. He joined her, her extra reflective belt wrapped around his bicep. It was still dark, their way lit by streetlights and the occasional passing car. Jake glanced over as she ran through the show, hands at her stomach moving the imaginary stick and throttle. 

Everything for her last show needed to be perfect. 

“You’ve got this,” he said when they turned back into her cul de sac. Feeling like a teenager sneaking around, she tugged him around the side of the house and pressed him against the siding. His hands wrapped around her hips, holding her tightly as her hands slid up his sweat-slicked skin to wrap around the back of his neck. It was still dark out, the sun not due to rise for another hour. If her neighbors looked out the glass door in their living room or someone drove past, they would easily be spotted. But that didn’t stop her from pressing against him, feeling his heat through her sports bra and running shorts. 

Jake pressed teasing kisses to her forehead, nose, and cheek before Syla gripped his hair and kissed him hard. His hand slid to her ass, squeezing and tugging her closer. She could feel his cock through his jogging shorts and dug her nails into his skin to keep from touching him. Nothing in the world would make her jeopardize her career with a public indecency charge. 

When his attention shifted to her neck, licking the salt from her skin, Syla forced herself to push against his shoulders and step back. His grip tightened, not letting her go too far. “Everything okay?” he asked. In the semi-darkness, she could barely make out his confused expression. 

“I need to know,” she said, biting her kiss-swollen lower lip. “I know we’ve only known each other for a month, but am I pissing off one of my best friends for a fling?”

“A fling?” 

“I outrank you, Jake. If there’s blowback, it’s gonna come back on me. Not only because of rank but because I’m a woman. I will always have Blue Angels in my bio, so I will always be held to the highest standard. So I have to know - is this just having fun? Or is this something we want to pursue? Because I’m fine either - ”

Jake’s lips silenced her, his tongue insistently licking into her mouth as he turned them to pin her against the siding with his hips. With his hands braced by her head, he pulled away, smirking when she chased his kiss. One knuckle traced from her temple and swept across her jaw before tilting her head up as he tutted her name. “You think I’d risk pissing off my entire squad for a fling? If I wanted that, I would have just waited for you to get to Miramar instead of coming out here, annoying Payback, and meeting your parents. This is my first vacation in years, and I wanted to spend time alone with you. If you want this to be a fling - ”

“I don’t.” 

“Good. Cause I don’t either.” They stood there, smiling at one another for a long moment until they heard a dog bark. Shoving him away, Syla turned and waved at her neighbor as he stepped out of the house across the street, dressed for his own morning run. Taking Jake’s hand, she tugged him back towards the front door, enjoying how he pressed himself against her back as she unlocked it. “Just wait until we’re alone, and I’ll show you just how well I can find your clit,” he growled in her ear as she gripped the doorknob.

“Just out of curiosity,” she said, glancing at him over her shoulder. “Did you tell Reuben that you were staying for a week? Or does he think you’re flying out tonight, too?”

“Now, where would the fun be in telling him?” Jake asked. Syla laughed, turning in his embrace to pat his cheek. 

“It’s your funeral, Hangman.” His grin was blinding as he leaned down to kiss her.

“What a hell of a reason to go.”

Emotion nearly choked her as Syla drove down Blue Angel Parkway toward the base. She’d left her parents to drive the other aviators in, wanting some time alone that morning. The squad had invited her guests to watch the last briefing of the season so they wouldn’t be too far behind. Reuben or Jake would be able to get her parents on base. While the air show gates didn’t open until 8:00AM, a few cars were already waiting at the Visitor Control building’s parking lot. After flashing her ID to the gate guard, she made her way to the hanger to quickly inspect her plane. Their flight mechanics were among the best in the world, and Syla trusted them with her life, but you could never be too careful. Once assured that everything was fine, she made her way to the briefing room, pausing to talk to some of the other early birds and to grab a shitty cup of coffee from the break room. Rather than take her seat, she took the opportunity to read the plaques that decorated the walls, running her finger over her name engraved on the list of pilots. 

“Big day, Syla. You ready for it?” Duke asked, coming into the briefing room and standing beside her. She glanced up at him and rolled her lips together, swallowing hard against the lump in her throat. 

“As I’ll ever be,” she replied hoarsely. 

“One more flight, and then you’re back in the greens,” he chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and tugging her close. 

“I look so much better in blue,” she smirked, glancing down at her flight suit. After three years, going back to a green suit that didn’t have her name and plane number embroidered on her chest, that had a different squadron patch, would be strange. This wasn’t the first time she’d left a squad, but it definitely was the hardest. Their team, from the flight and ground crew to the Marine pilots that flew Fat Albert, the C-130J that carried the crew show to show, spent so much time together. From January to November, they saw each other every day - on Thursdays, they flew out to the show location and returned to Pensacola on Mondays; Tuesdays and Wednesdays were practice days. For three years, Syla had celebrated birthdays, anniversaries, new babies, and graduations with these folks. She’d babysat for their kids and hung out at their houses. They had gotten her drunk to celebrate her promotion before dragging her to the beach and tossing her into the Gulf in her whites - she made sure that they also got drenched - and teased her relentlessly whenever she dated someone. 

The other squad members slowly filed in, and Syla was subjected to brotherly teasing. When her guests arrived, she introduced Jake and Reuben by their callsigns. The looks her squad sent her when Hangman shook their hands were priceless - they’d seen his name pop up on her phone more than a few times. The corner of Jake’s eye twitched at every shake, making her wonder if they were squeezing his hand harder than necessary. Payback looked happy at the cooler welcome the other pilot got. 

“Alright,” the flight leader said once everyone had taken their seat around the table, him at the head. Crew and her guests sat along the wall. “We’ll leave the sentimental stuff for the boat party later, but as you all know, this is Syla’s last flight with us. And while we’re excited to welcome Lieutenant Commander Reyes in a few months, she will have big shoes to fill. So we’ll be perfect today, not only for Syla but for our hometown crowd. I want the debrief to be short this afternoon so we can go celebrate another successful season and get some downtime. Now, conditions today allow for the high show…” Syla opened her folder and retrieved the aerial map of Pensacola as he read out the wind and view data. The tip of her pen traced the maneuvers they would go through, as he called them.

She could feel eyes on her as they pushed away from the table and did a chair flight, Duke’s comforting cadence helping her block out everything else. Her own eyes remained closed as they talked through the flight, visualizing and practicing the throttles and stick positions, where they would have pull on the stick, tensing to fight the Gs, her calls on the radio, turning to check the alignment of their synchronized ascent into the loop, deploying smoke - every second of the 45-minute show.  

And when she opened her eyes, they caught on a pair of green ones that stared at her from across the room. The corner of Jake’s mouth twitched as he gave a curt nod. Beside him, her parents beamed. Payback sat back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest and grinned. 

Syla couldn’t help the tears that fell as she taxied back into position. Even over her engine, she could hear the crowd cheering as they announced her name and thanked her for her years of flying with the Blues. As the canopy rose, she swiped at her face and took a deep breath. 

It was over. 

After three years, she was now returning to the fleet. She would be assigned a new Super Hornet, grey instead of bright blue, with her name and callsign painted below the canopy. The next few months would be spent reviewing tactical and weapons updates, and she’d have a few weeks to refresh her air combat skills before taking on her first TOPGUN class. She was pretty sure that she'd spend some time with the meatball, the machine that helped baby aviators learn the dimensions of the ship's flight line; she felt rusty even with over 600 carrier landings under her belt. 

Thankfully, she was sure there was an active-duty pilot who would be more than happy to help her study.

“You good?” Syla looked up at her crew chief and nodded at the woman. Quickly, she handed over the helmet, realizing it would be one of the last times she wore it. Soon, she would be back in her garnet one with gold arrows - her nod to her alma mater. After smoothing down her hair, she put her cover back on and prepared to exit the cockpit. 

Three years. Over 900 days on the road. Hundreds of hours in the air. 

It was over.

A Week Later

Fanboy glanced at his phone, frowning at the text from Hangman. The Miami game was on a commercial break, so he quickly opened it and saw it was a video. 

He recognized the place immediately - Florida State’s football stadium. Doak Campbell. Fucking Hangman was at the Miami-FSU game. Hangman panned the camera around the stadium, and Fanboy realized he was standing on the field. In the endzone. The announcer’s voice was a bit muffled but became clearer as Hangman refocused the camera on Syla. 

“Callsign Syla made history as the first female aviator on the Blue Angels, carrying on the proud FSU tradition of excellence. Let’s give a loud welcome home to Syla!”

The crowd roared, chants of “USA” echoing as Syla held up her hands and waved before doing the tomahawk chop. In the background, he saw that she was being broadcast on the jumbotron. As it cut away, she held her hands up again. She brought her thumbs together to form the University of Miami ‘U’ symbol before dropping all but her middle fingers. The student section started a chant of ‘Fuck U’ as she laughed. 

“Fuck Miami!” Syla grinned. 

“Fuck Miami!” Hangman echoed, swinging the camera around to show himself flipping off the camera, that god-awful mustache still on his face. For once, he wasn’t wearing Texas gear but had swapped it out for a Seminoles cap and t-shirt. 

Oh, Fanboy thought. He was definitely gonna have to deal with way more bro code violations once he got back. Especially after he forgot to turn off the recording before kissing Syla. 

Fanboy debated forwarding it to the group chat but decided against it. Having a bit of blackmail was never a bad thing.

The group chat started popping off in the 4th quarter. 

What the fuck is this? Payback fired off, sharing a picture of Hangman with his arm around Syla and their back to the field. Her hand rested on his stomach. 

Damn, Rooster replied. Phoenix added a gif of Stephen Colbert eating popcorn.

Looks like fun, Bob added. 

Fuck the Noles, Fanboy typed out.

Is no one bothered by this??? Payback demanded. The chat went silent until Hangman’s name popped up.

Syla here. Two things - 1) Fuck Miami, and 2) I’m begging you to let the man shave the fucking mustache. Facial hair is not my thing.

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Note: I didn't expect to write a follow up to First and Goal, but I also didn't expect the engagement with it. Thank you to everyone who read it. A major thank you to @mayhemmanaged for helping talk me through this fic and reading a rough draft of it. And @dreamlandcreations for saying she wanted a part 2.

The North Florida panhandle has a huge military population. I recently moved away from the Gulf Coast, after my dad was stationed at Eglin AFB. That is where I first got to see a jet engine up close and see how beautiful the afterburner could be. It's where I went to my first stateside air show. I completed an internship at the VA in Pensacola, and was able to see the Blue Angels fly every week. Like Jake, I didn't really appreciate the panhandle until I left. There's nothing like shifting from pine trees to an ocean view as you cross the I-10 bridge, going from Whiting Field to Pensacola.

Like Syla, I'm a diehard Seminole, graduating from there a total of 4 times. I actually stole her flight leader's callsign, Duke, from a guy I went to high school and college with, who flies for the Air Force.

So long story short, this fic was inspired by aviation and Lieutenant Commander Amanda 'Stalin' Lee, the first female Blue Angel. Thanks for reading ❤️

Tagging those who reblogged and commented on First and Goal:

kmc1989; gigisimsonmars; starset21; the-slytherin-library-12; ssa-sadboi; fanficfandomlove; shanimallina87; myfaveficrecs; roosterforme; thefandomimagines; dreamlandcreations; topherwrites; roosteraloha; tgmreader; love-in-light; starlightmoon2020; clockworkballerina; bibissparkles; top-hhun; just-in-case-iloveyou; scarlettwidow19; themusingofagothicsoul; milani-marie; rooseresintg; lets-turn-and-burn; bellaireland1981; shanimallina87; sydthekid1518; gspenc; mimi-8793; novagreen04; fulla02reads; alldaysdreamers; atarmychick007; onceupona-happilyeverafter-love; rosiahills22

[sunny44]

Pornstache

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Girlfriend!reader

Warnings: smut.

Summary: Carlos puts on a moustache and it seems the effect was better than he imagined.

I woke up alone in bed in the morning, which wasn't unusual considering it was a race weekend, but Carlos got up earlier than usual so I started to get suspicious.

But since I didn't have to get up now, I went back to sleep and left it up to the alarm to wake me up at the right time.

When the alarm finally went off and it was time to wake up, I got up and went straight to the bathroom to have a shower before we left and as soon as I walked into the bathroom, I saw my boyfriend with just a mustache.

"Oh my God." I said shocked, looking at him.

"Tadam." He says and I'm still shocked.

"Why did you shave it off?"

"Well, we're in Italy and it's Luigi's home race so I decided to pay homage." He says excitedly. "You didn't like it?"

"I still don't know if I like it or not." I said and looked him up and down and saw that he was only wearing his underpants.”

"The mustache is up here." He says playfully and I roll my eyes and run my hands over his face. "So?"

"It's weird." He laughed. "But I have to admit you look very sexy like that."

"Yeah?" He asked, putting his hand on my waist and starting to kiss my neck.

"I need to take a shower."

"What a coincidence, me too." He said, taking off my blouse and making me laugh.

Instead of going to the bathroom, he picks me up and carries me to the bed and gets on top of me. Without much foreplay, we were both completely naked and Carlos was already inside me.

"You know what?" he stops.

"How about you get in on the action?"

"I thought you'd never ask." I switch positions getting on top of him.

I rest my hands on his chest as I begin to move up and down slowly.

He holds my waist and lifts his own, thrusting into me hard and fast, making me moan.

I start again with slow movements and gradually increase the speed, until I feel my apex approaching and the thrusts get deeper and faster, he grabs my breasts with his hands and squeezes, when I let out a louder moan, signaling that I've reached my apex.

I continued moving faster, and he reached his peak and so did I.

We caught our breath and he had a smile on his face.

I sit on his lap without taking his member out of me, just looking at his mustache.

"Can you take another round?" he asks and I agree.

As I was already on top of him, he just pulled me up, making me sit on his face and without giving me time to think, I felt his tongue on my pussy, and it was at that exact moment that I thanked God he had that mustache. I'm sure the feel of him in me made me come even faster.

When we'd finished, we decided to take a shower.

As soon as the hot water hits our backs, I feel the relaxation coming on.

He hugs me from behind and we stay like that for a few minutes.

"You know what we didn't do?" he looks at me confused, after I turn to him and just kneel in front of him, he already knows what's going to happen.

As soon as I reach the head, I suck slowly while he grabs my hair.

I start sucking him slowly and quickly, alternating between the two, keeping eye contact with him.

As I make the movements, he bites his lip and rolls his eyes, then he makes me go a little faster until he comes in my mouth.

He's a little shaky as I get up and he kisses me very hard.

Anyway, we finished showering and while I was in front of the bathroom mirror finishing my skin care, I felt him hug me from behind.

"Look, we've done enough exercise for the one hour we're awake. Actually, the one hour I’m awake." He laughs.

"I'm not after that. At least not now.” I laughed and wiped my face dry, then turned to face him. "Did you really like my mustache?"

"God knows how much." It was his turn to laugh. "Seriously, it feels completely different with just a mustache than with a full beard."

"Good to know."

"Now I can remember what I thought you looked like."

"Like what?"

"You look like a mob in a movie, or maybe a pornstar." Then he starts laughing.

"If we'd recorded what we were doing a while ago, I'd certainly be classified as a pornstar."

"We should have recorded it then."

"Are you serious?"

"If I didn't have to live every day in fear of someone finding it or it leaking, I'd definitely record us having sex." He's impressed and kisses me. "Get dressed because we have 20 minutes to be ready.”

"All right, I'll be right there." He releases me. "Have you sorted your clothes?"

"Not yet. But I already have something in mind."

He agreed and left, I did a quick make-up and then left the room to get dressed and that's when we left the hotel room to go to the race track.

…

As soon as we arrived, we could already see people's faces of shock and amazement when they saw Carlos' new style.

Either people would love it and think he was hot (like me) or they would think it didn't look good and that he looked strange without the rest of his beard.

"Woooooow, look at that." Charles says as soon as he sees him. "Y/n, you look lovely as always and you... What inspired you to leave just the mustache?"

"I thought I'd do something different, I was inspired by Luigi."

"Oh yeah, should we dress up as Mario and Luigi for the race tomorrow?"

"Absolutely." I say, making them laugh.

After chatting for a while, we went into the garage and I went to my usual corner while Carlos and Charles went to their driver's rooms to change and start qualifying.

The excitement on the race track was palpable as everyone prepared for the qualifying session. After my brief chat with Charles, I went to my usual corner in the garage, where I could watch all the action up close without disturbing anyone. Carlos and Charles, on the other hand, went to their driver's rooms to change and prepare for qualifying.

The atmosphere in the garage was one of total concentration.

Engineers, mechanics and strategists moved in a synchronized ballet of precision and efficiency. I knew that qualifying was crucial, and everyone was determined to do their best. I felt a mixture of anxiety and excitement as I waited for the session to begin.

When it finally started, the screens around me were filled with images of the cars leaving the pits and entering the track. Carlos was one of the first to leave, and I couldn't help but feel a shiver of anticipation and the worry that was always present in me.

"Come on, Carlos, you can do it!" I muttered to myself, clenching my fists tightly.

The first few minutes of qualifying were intense. Carlos was visibly focused, doing fast, precise laps. The team was in constant communication with him, providing data and adjusting the strategy as necessary. I watched every lap with my heart in my mouth, hoping that he would manage to stay among the best.

"Carlos, we're seeing good lap times. Keep it up." The engineer's voice echoed through the speakers.

He responded with a simple "copy", but his determination was clear. The track was hot and the conditions were ideal for a fast lap. Carlos made the most of it, driving his car with skill and precision. Every corner was a masterpiece, every straight a battlefield where he sought every millisecond.

As the minutes ticked by, Carlos continued to climb the timesheets. The tension in the garage grew with every lap. I could hardly breathe, so absorbed was I in the action. Then, in the last sector of the track, he did something incredible. Carlos set a perfect lap, beating all the other times and putting himself in P1.

"That's it!" I shouted, unable to contain my excitement. Some team members flashed me complicit smiles, sharing my joy.

Carlos' engineer was also elated.

"Great job, Carlos! Pole position! Stay focused, we're going to review the data.”

"Got it. Thanks guys." Carlos' voice sounded firm, but I could sense the satisfaction in it.

The final minutes of qualifying were a mixture of tension and anticipation. Other drivers tried to beat Carlos' time, but he remained unbeatable. Each attempt failed to surpass his brilliant lap. When the timer finally went off, confirmation came: Carlos Sainz had secured pole position.

The garage erupted in celebrations. The team was hugging each other, celebrating the extraordinary result. I too couldn't help but shout with joy, jumping up and down with excitement. Carlos got out of the car with a triumphant smile, and was immediately surrounded by his team.

"Congratulations, love! You were amazing!" I said, as he approached.

"Thanks, Hermosa." He replied, his smile widening. "I told you I'd do my best."

He winked at me, and I felt my face blush again. Carlos was overjoyed, and I knew that this qualification was just the start of something even bigger. He was determined to win, and I couldn't wait to see what else he could achieve.

As he walked away to take part in the post-qualifying interviews and appointments, I couldn't help thinking that the first questions would be related to his new look.

"And what about your new look, what made you do it?" I could hear a journalist asking.

"Because we were in Italy, I decided to do something different and I took inspiration from Luigi for my look."

"And your girlfriend, what did she think?"

"She liked it a lot." He says with a suggestive tone that only I seem to understand.

"That's great. Thank you very much and congratulations on your pole position."

It was the last interview so he came straight to where I was waiting for him.

"I'm going to have a quick shower and then we can go to the hotel."

"All right." He kissed me and I started laughing.

"Why are you laughing?"

"It tickles." I said, referring to his moustache.

"You didn't complain earlier when I was sucking you..." at the same time, I put my hand over his mouth, preventing him from almost finishing.

"Eww." We heard Charles as he passed us. "Save that for when you're alone."

"He didn't even finish his sentence." I said.

"Yeah, but from his sentence and the fact that you covered his mouth so he wouldn't finish it, I can already imagine what it was." Then he went into his room.

"I didn't complain before and I'm not complaining now, it was just a statement of fact." I said.

"That's good because we're going to do a lot more than we did this morning."

"Good to know." I kissed him. "Now get in the shower because I want to go back to the hotel, put on my pajamas and eat a hamburger."

"Wow, and where am I on this plan?”

"You'll be next to me in bed eating a hamburger too."

"The day before the race? What a risk."

"Then you eat soup." He laughs.

"Okay, I'm going to take a shower now."

...

In the end Carlos had to stay longer so I came to the hotel early. I took another shower before putting on my pajamas and going to bed.

I was watching TV and was almost asleep when I heard the door opening and I hoped it was my boyfriend because I wasn't in the mood to run away.

"Hey." I said to him as soon as I turned around and saw him taking off his sneakers.

"Hey, did I wake you?"

"No, I was almost there, but I hadn't slept yet."

"Sorry it took so long, it shouldn't have.”

"It's okay, I know how race week’s work." He kisses my forehead, changes his clothes and lies down.

"Come here." He pulls me on top of him and I nuzzle my face into his neck. "Good night hermosa."

"Good night, love."

Bonus scene!

Yourusername Instagram stories

“I love the Pornstache guys.”

[missmarveledsblog]

Bet on it ( Bradley bradshaw x reader ) part one

summary : everyone thought since they were best friend that their kids would be but after some unknown reason bradley bradshaw and y/n mitchell hated each other . after confrontation one night that leaves bradley in a dry spell well the guys make a claim and bradley's willing to bet and prove them wrong all he had to do was get into a relationship with the one person that couldn't stand him .

warning : enemies to lovers, bradley bit of a dick in the start not gonna lie , bet trope , age gap ( ten years hes 38 , she 28 ) this series is gonna be a roller coaster of emotions

They were soulmate platonic  where Mav was, goose was not far behind , both mischievous , both good at what they did . best friends til the end of time even if the time was short lived . so naturally people thought it would be the same with their kids and yet they were very wrong. It was like the two were fire and ice constantly going against each other whenever they got close .  there was a break she went to med school as bradley was back at top gun only for their secret feud to fire back up when she was transferred to a hospital right in san diego and of course she was able to win the hearts of the dagger squad and her turning up to the hard deck it was his worst nightmare come true . if they weren’t locked in the childish back and forth it was ignoring the other existence all together which honestly their friends preferred and as aggravating as y/n mitchell could be nothing was going to dampen bradley bradshaws mood tonight. He almost floated over to his friends the moment he step into the hard deck . the smile on his face was almost cheek splitting when they all looked at him . 

“ guess who got a date with the barista” he flashed his dazzling smile pulling the aviator to perch on his nose . 

“  nice even for you chicken” hangman nodded. 

“ well bagman you know i could give you some advice  , i mean i guess it been a dry spell” he shrugged taking his seat beside phoenix who rolled her eyes and called them both “ disgusting pigs”. 

“ yeah i don’t need advice we both now i do well and even better than you” . 

“ god you both ever gonna tire of the hook ups “ she groaned . 

“ hey this could be best date of my life and she could be the one” bradley smirked. 

Before they could even say more the door open and an excited y/n bounded towards them . 

“ i pass the interview i passed it” she yelled excitedly. 

“ wait the internship in new york?” nat asked unsure of how to feel . 

“ yes it’s not til six month from now but  in six month i will be heading to big city and studying under the greats of pediatrics “ she excitedly dance in her spot barely even sparing the usually happy man in her wake. 

“A date with hot ass woman and she leaving jesus this is my lucky day” rooster felt like crying he was so happy. 

“ in six month pornstache … wow playing in the dog park finally worked out good job” she smiled only for jake to lift her up and spin her around . 

“Knew you could do it , what i tell you this morning” he chuckled ruffling her hair. 

“ not to doubt myself “ she smiled bashfully . “ shit there’s my dad i’ll be back “ she giggled rushing off . 

“ or don’t that’s a good option “ rooster smiled. 

“ i don’t get why you don’t like her” fanboy mused . 

“ because you’ll learn like i did she’ll drop you like that no reason” he rolled his eyes sick of his friend constantly going on about how great she was honestly he thought the same one time and well he learned his lesson . 

“ people change or maybe you done something “ jake mused although he may of know more than he let on giving how close he and y/n got over the two years since she came to san diego. 

“ day that happens i’ll sell my bronco “ bradley scoffed. “ going to the mens room if my date comes tell her i’ll be out in a minute” . 

She stood watching the news sinking in from excitement to straight on nerves .  hoping he would show even a hint of happiness for her . 

“ it’s great news but we .. i just got you back” he smiled uneasy . 

“ it’s only a short flight and i’ll be home for holidays come on dad this is once in a lifetime opportunity i’m literally the youngest and female to be accepted on to this programme “ she almost pleaded with him . 

“ how long is it” 

“ two years with a chance to stay on in new york or head back to my residency here which i will because it will earn my spot on more paid job and more opportunities  it’s only two years and i can visit” she repeated . 

“ well i still got you for six months so i better make most of it i am proud of you but your my baby girl too … penny round on me to celebrate my daughters great work” he smiled sadly although he meant it when he said he was proud . 

“ i’ll have this one with you next one with the guys “ she smiled . 

“ sorry i was suppose to meet someone here and i don’t think i can see him “ a woman called making them turn . 

“ who you looking for honey “ penny beamed 

“ bradley bradshaw oh god i have the wrong place don’t i “ she chuckled . 

“  the wrong man i’d run if i was you” another woman scoffed. 

“ you sure he was charming when i met him “ the girls eyes widened . 

“ really rooster is great guy , don’t listen cheryl she as bitter as those gins “ y/n smiled . 

“ yeah great guy when he and hangman used me as pawn in their who can sleep with most women game , i think i was number 8 made me think i was special never felt the spark like it “ 

“ she’s drunk really rooster is great , he’s sweet and listens to good music “  y/n defended more although she didn’t know why he was an ass to her all time even though he was one that hurt her all those years.

“ sure look he already over there high fiving his friend “ cheryl smirked as the other girl eyes narrowed before y/n  could say anything the woman was barrelling over like a storm . 

Now as bradley looked up ready to greet his date what he didn’t expect was the slap across his face or the anger of a bull on her. 

“ you bastard i thought .. shit i thought one decent guy out there til that woman set me straight “ she pointed over at cheryl although bradley misread it  now he was pissed. 

“ whatever she said was crock of shit  trust me” he defended. 

“ so you and some guy called hangman didn’t have a sleezy contest i will not be a part of delete my number asshole “ was all she said before storming out the bar completely . 

“ she has got some nerve” was all bradley said before he storming towards the bar only he wasn’t going for the right person . 

“ what the hell is your problem  what me being happy isn’t good enough you have to ruin it “ he pulled y/n around as she almost looked shocked. 

“ i didn’t … i didn’t do anything” she stuttered out completely confused. 

 “ yeah you told her about stupid game me and hangman had … do you really like ruining things for me i mean life was great til you showed up here making everyone think your some little sweetheart when in actuality  your’re a cold hearted bitch” he scoffed. 

“ and you said he was a great guy” cheryl laughed . 

“ i guess i was wrong, drop dead rooster “ y/n walked off ignoring everyone’s calls . 

“ shit that girl defended you after i told your date what your really like jesus thanks for proving me right”cheryl saunter off playing her bill and leaving . 

“ wait wait what “ he froze . 

“ rooster what the hell .. you two used to love each other now god your at each others throat but never like that ...   i thought you were better than that .. godson or not you talk to her like that again we’re gonna have problems “ mav warned as he headed out the door .  leaving bradley looking like biggest dickhead in the hard deck head low and tail between his legs he headed back to the table the guys were bar nat and jake who probably fixing his fuck up . 

“ wow harsh man” payback whistled lowly . 

“ yeah not my finest moment “ he grumbled . 

That  sentence was like a mantra on his tongue hell he didn’t want to admit it the dry spell he was having which after his outburst completely extended it first couple of week no girl would even look his way hitting another bust as he headed back to the rest of his squad as y/n sat with jake as far as she could barely even looking his way til she ended up smiling at her phone and bidding the rest a farewell , he didn’t want to admit it but the complete freeze out was worse than before the fact she didn’t even give him a second thought was driving him crazy maybe  the dry spell was affecting him more than he thought . 

“ guess it was a bust” fanboy smirked. 

“ losing your status rooster”  javy laughed , 

“ maybe it for the best between him and hangman  they going to sleep through san diego or that was case” bob chuckled . 

“ now what i would love to see is either of them try a relationship they would fold the second things get serious” payback  pointed out . 

“ ok first ouch bob i’m nothing like bagman  and second i could do serious relationship with any girl “ he stood hand on hips . 

“ not any girl “ bob mused . 

“ baby on board is right not any girl “ jake leaned against the pool table maybe it was a risk and shit if it ended badly well he would hate it but he could see it , he could see it the moment she walked into the hard deck two years ago . 

“ i’d bet my bronco on it “ bradley stood falling into the trap hook line and sinker . 

“ you sure you wanna bet on something you’ll lose chicken ?”  he goaded willing him to take the bait . 

“ fuck it your on bagman name her , point her out” he stood toe to toe with the man . 

“ easy y/n “ that damn smile , the cocky one rooster loved to wipe of his face and yet this one was gonna be tough shit did he have it in him. “ you really are a chicken on it “ he had him hook , line  

“ your on “  sinker .

A.N : Let me know if you wanna be added to taglist for future parts

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Can you do some Christmas fluff with rooster? 💕

Sure! Thank you for the request <3 Hope you like it :D

Christmas On Deck

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

Summary: You're stuck at the airport on Christmas Eve and, naturally, you meet a pilot. What's his name, again?

CW: Fluffity fluff with a smidge of angst

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, are you kidding me?” you groan in response to the latest flight delay announcement over the airport intercom. The gate is packed with equally irritable travellers whose flights have been postponed on account of the blizzard. You let out a weary sigh and plop down into the only available seat in your vicinity, which happens to be right next to some dude with a pornstache who’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt – even though your destination is Vermont – and Ray Bans – even though you’re indoors.

“What a nightmare,” you hear him mutter under his breath, his lip curling sideways underneath his bizarre facial hair. He’s got several scars running down the side of his face.

You eye him inconspicuously as he pulls a book out of his backpack, partly because he smells nice but mostly because you’ve got nothing better to do. When he leans back into his seat, his shoulder brushes against yours accidentally. He looks up at you apologetically.

“Sorry about that,” he says.

You give him a tight smile, wondering if he’s going to keep his sunglasses on while he reads. “It’s cool,” you respond. “It’s not your fault we’re all cramped in here.”

He chuckles, trying to squeeze his broad shoulders inward, but his arms still manage to extend beyond both sides of his seat. Finally, he leans forward, resting his elbows on his legs, and opens his book.

For some reason, the low rasp of his voice and the way he seems greatly unfazed by the prospect of being stuck at an airport on Christmas Eve makes you weirdly interested in striking up a conversation with him. “Is it a little bright for you?” you say cheekily, noting that he hasn’t removed his shades.

The man turns his head slowly to look at you over his shoulder. He straightens his back slightly, a small smile forming underneath his ridiculous mustache that, you hate to admit, is becoming increasingly attractive with every passing minute. He lifts his hand to tap on the frame, letting the glasses slide a touch down his nose as he squints at you, studying your face. Instead of answering your question, he poses his own: “You going somewhere special for the holidays?”

“Home,” you say. If you ever get there. “You?”

He takes off his sunglasses and hooks them into the collar of his white undershirt. “Some friends are going skiing,” he says, shrugging.

You nod, not really sure where to take the conversation next, when there’s another announcement indicating that all flights have been cancelled for the rest of the night. You close your eyes in disappointment as the rest of the terminal groans in response to the news. “Great,” you say. “Christmas Eve and Christmas morning at the damn airport.”

The man watches you sympathetically for a few moments before saying, “Yeah, bummer.” His eyes scan your face for another several seconds and then he shoves his book back into his backpack and stands up. “Come on,” he says, motioning with his head for you to follow.

You furrow your eyebrows at him suspiciously, not at all eager to accompany a strange man to an unknown destination, regardless of how good-looking he may be.

He senses your hesitation and extends his hand. “It’s not far,” he says. “Promise.”

You swallow uneasily, putting your hand in his. His warm fingers curl around yours and he gently pulls you out of your seat. He doesn’t let go of your hand once you’re up, holding onto you instead while he navigates the crowd of angry passengers at the gate. He draws you out of the horde and down one of the largely empty corridors of the airport. “Where are we going?” you ask cautiously.

“Here,” he says, turning a corner into a dimly lit room with large windows exposing the flurrying snow outside.

“Wow,” you breathe, taking a step forward when he finally lets go of your hand. You walk toward the window spanning the entire wall from the floor up, watching the storm blanket the terminal, snowing in several parked planes.

Mustache walks up behind you. “It’s the observation deck,” he says, looking out onto the apron with a smile.

You glance up at him, admiring the shape of his jaw, and his neck, and his broad shoulders, and his mustache, goddamnit, and wonder if he’ll ever tell you his name because, at this point, it feels awkward to ask. You grin to yourself and then sit right down onto the carpeted floor, crossing your legs. “In that case,” you say. “Let’s observe.”

The man chuckles lightly and takes a seat next to you on the floor. He unzips his backpack and pulls out a bag of chips. “Salt and vinegar?” he offers, ripping the bag open and holding it out to you.

You laugh. “This is dinner, isn’t it?”

“This,” he says, and then pulls out a box of Ritz crackers. “And this.”

“Yes!” you exclaim, grabbing the box out of his hands.

“And, for dessert…” he adds, digging his hand back into the bag and pulling out another box.

Your jaw drops in your excitement. “Oreos!”

He nods. “I’ve got a lot of Oreos,” he says, pulling out several packages of the cookies.

“Amazing!” you say. “I hit the jackpot sitting next to you, didn’t I?”

He grins, his teeth grazing over his lip as he curls it in. “I was thinking the same thing about you,” he says.

You glance up to meet his gaze, blushing slightly.

He reaches out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You’re really fucking pretty,” he says.

You smile at him, deciding that being stuck in an airport on Christmas Eve isn’t the worst thing that’s ever happened to you.

You spend the next couple of hours eating and chatting. You find out that he’s a pilot in the Navy, that his father died when he was just a boy, and that his mother passed away when he was a teenager. He tells you about Top Gun, about his squad, about how he’s indifferent when it comes to Christmas because he doesn’t really have anybody to spend it with. He even tells you what his favorite food is. What he doesn’t tell you is his name. And he doesn’t ask for yours.

You don’t bother either; what the point? After tonight, you’ll never see him again, so there’s no sense in getting attached. It wouldn’t be the first time you spent the night with a stranger without so much as exchanging numbers. Unfortunately, besides being exceptionally cute, the guy is actually boyfriend material. He’s genuine, and funny, and considerate, and you’re finding him especially easy to talk to. Perhaps it’s because both of you know that, by this time tomorrow, the stranger you’ve shared all your secrets with will be out of your life for good.

This is great. This is therapeutic. This sort of transient camaraderie is what travelling is all about. You don’t build lasting relationships with random people you meet at the bus stop, or at a train station. Why should an airport be any different?

There’s a chiming in the distance and you look down at your phone. Midnight.

“Merry Christmas,” he says.

You look up at him with a small smile. “Hopefully Santa knows where to find us.”

He chuckles while you rub your hands together. “Cold?” he asks, pulling a blanket out of his backpack.

“Is there anything you don’t have in there?” you ask.

He shrugs. “I like to be prepared.” He hands you the blanket.

You unfold it and move closer to him, trying to wrap it around both your shoulders and his.

“Here,” he says, shifting to lean his back against one of the seats and spreading his feet so you could sit between his legs.

You stand up to walk around him, and then lower yourself in front of his body. His hands are on your legs the moment your knees bend, helping you down. His touch sends a shockwave through you, and you glance back to see him looking up at you lustfully. You gulp as you sit down, his hands sliding slowly up the sides of your thighs. You lick your lips, sliding backward until you feel your hips align with his, and then you slowly lean your back against his chest and pull the blanket over both of you. His arms close around yours under the fleece and he lets out a sigh. You rest your head on his shoulder and he lowers his face to press his cheek against your hair.

“This is nice,” you mutter, already warming up as his large hand closes around your arm. His thumb begins to brush your skin as he makes a soft humming sound in agreement.

…

You wake up to the hot sun radiating through the giant windows of the room. You’re lying on the ground with the man you met last night beside you under the twisted blanket, his extremely heavy arm crushing your shoulder. You don’t mind it, though; his sculpted arms kept you warm all night.

You rotate onto your back and he stirs, lifting his hand to rest it over your abdomen as he nuzzles his face against the side of your head.

“Good morning,” he whispers, his fingers gently stroking your stomach.

You smile at the ceiling, your eyes still adjusting to the brightness of the room. “Merry Christmas,” you say.

He sighs and his hot breath bathes your neck. “It is,” he murmurs, his hand tangling in the blanket as he grips your waist to pull you closer.

You shut your eyes, enjoying the very best Christmas present you’ve ever received. But, just when you’re about to turn your head and finally give your companion a kiss, a loud beep followed by an announcement indicating that flights have resumed interrupts the moment.

You exhale slowly, not bothering to conceal your disappointment, and Mustache chuckles into your ear, tickling the side of your face. “I wonder if Santa found us,” he says quietly.

You glance over at his mischievous smirk and sit up. There’s a Christmas tree in the corner of the room that you hadn’t noticed the previous night because it was too dark. Under the tree, there are an assortment of snacks – including more Oreos – that he must’ve gotten from the vending machine overnight. You giggle as you make your way toward it. There’s also a small package of travel socks, a neck pillow, and an airplane keychain. You pick it up, observing that the plane doesn’t resemble any commercial airline.

“It’s a Rhino,” he says, and you look up at him in confusion.

“It’s an airplane,” you respond with a smile, dangling the ring from your index finger.

He chuckles. “F-18,” he clarifies. “It’s the jet I fly.”

“They sell these here?” you ask, although you already know the answer.

He shakes his head and then shrugs. “Just something to remember me by,” he says, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his pants.

You blink at him without responding, thinking that his name might also help. But you’ve already decided that it’s best not to know. “Thanks,” you say finally, closing your hand around the tiny plane. “I, uh, didn’t get you anything.”

He grins. “Yes, you did,” he says. “You gave me the best Christmas Eve and morning I’ve had in a very long time.”

You smile back at him. “We should do it again some time.”

He chuckles but his face falls slightly, as though he’s not optimistic about the likelihood of an encore. “Same time next year?”

You hold his gaze for a moment before the intercom blares, declaring that you have ten minutes to get to your plane. You gather the snacks, dispersing them between your carry-on bag and his, and make your way back to the gate.

The attendant calls on the back rows to start boarding and you give Mustache one last look. He squeezes your hand, and you don’t want him to let go, but he does anyway.

“I bet you have a really pretty name,” he says. It must have occurred to him also that there would be no point in knowing it.

“Have a safe flight,” you say.

He nods. “You too.”

Your mouth is taut when you give him a final smile and turn away, but before you make it past the checkpoint, you turn back to look at him again. He waves at you but you step out of the line anyway, going against the stream of bodies desperate to get onto the aircraft. He gives you a questioning look when you arrive before him. “Uh,” you start, unsure how to express what you mean to say. “Not just this flight.”

“What?” he asks.

“You’re a pilot,” you clarify. He narrows his eyes. “So, I just wanted to say, may all your flights be safe.”

He watches you solemnly as you chew on your lip. Then, you throw your hands around his neck just as he wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you off the ground in a passionate embrace. He kisses your neck as you sink your head into his shoulder. When he puts you down, his mouth is still trailing up the side of your face, leaving in its wake a string of delicate kisses. He brings his hands up to take you by the shoulders, resting his forehead on yours. “Hi,” he says. “I’m Bradley. It’s nice to meet you.”

You smile, watching the lower half of his face transform when you respond. “Hi, Bradley. I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he whispers, his lips hovering over yours. “I knew you had a pretty name.”

You chuckle briefly, but then his hand starts gliding along your shoulder and up your neck and, suddenly, you’re not in a laughing mood. “How long are you going to be in Vermont?” you ask, closing your eyes.

“How long are you going to be in Vermont?” he responds.

You smile as his mouth connects with yours, as his fingers trace swirls into your cheek, as his tongue drifts along your bottom lip before he catches it gently between his teeth.

“You taste like Oreos and Coke,” he murmurs.

“That’s what you gave me for breakfast,” you respond against his lips.

“I’ll have to do better next time.”

You look up at him after pulling away. “I thought it was perfect.”

He nods, his eyes perusing your face as his hand slips down to grasp yours. “What are you doing tomorrow?” he asks.

You grin. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

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[birdy-bat-writes]

I did get to! And I was in the process of reblogging with all my thoughts (and screams) last night when my phone started to die so I left it in my drafts to past today so here it is😁:

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH Emily, why am already in love with this???? I know we’re not even into the meat and potatoes of the story yet but holy guacamole, I can already FEEL the chemistry!!!! First off, Noah sounds adorable and I have a feeling you’re fantastic with kids by the way you wrote that interaction!! Also, thanks a lot for the incredulous amounts of baby fever you ignited within me with that😭😭😭🫠🫠🫠 did you really have to go so hard with the adoring single dad and his lovable little son like???? Can I have his children now please??? I’m blaming you for all my simping 🫵🏼🫵🏼🫵🏼🫵🏼🫵🏼

But I’m LIVING for how Bradley’s already down bad for the Babysitter! And I just KNOW she won’t be giving him and easy time🤭👀 knowing him, that’ll probably make him fall harder. I genuinely kicked my feet around reading this omg, I can’t wait for the next part!!!!! I don’t think I’ve ever gotten attached to a story this fast😆😆😆 I’m such a sucker for babysitter!reader stories. AND PHEONIX??? She’s absolutely one to tease him about this. I can also just picture Hangman’s reaction to Rooster having a dating app profile💀💀💀

I’m loving everything about this.

The Younger Kind Part 1 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: As a single dad trying to start dating again, Bradley feels like he's constantly running in circles. Hiring a twenty-four year old student to babysit should have made things easier, but no matter how hard he fights it, you're too irresistible to stay away from. 

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (eventually 18+)

Length: 3300 words

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

Check out my masterlist for more!

Bradley cradled his forehead in his hands as he leaned against the bar. He hated being interrogated like this. He knew it was coming eventually, but he really wasn't expecting it today.

"You need a babysitter?" Nat asked with vivid interest. "Who are you going on a date with?"

He groaned. "What makes you think I need a babysitter so I can go on a date? Maybe I just need a couple hours to myself."

Nat rolled her eyes. "Because when you need an hour or two to yourself, you always ask me if I can come over and stay with Noah. And I always oblige, because I am the best person you know. So this must be something else. Who is it?"

"Rebel asked me out," Bradley murmured, looking at his friend out of the corner of his eye.

"Rebel! She's only been at Top Gun for a week!" Nat said, eyes wide as she examined his face. "She literally arrived from Lemoore seven days ago, and she already made a move on you? Damn, some of these pilots are quick."

"She just asked me out for coffee. I only said yes, because you keep telling me I should start dating again!"

"Well, you should start dating again. But I figured you'd download an app, find some cute women and get your rocks off. Not go on a date with a coworker!" Nat said, exasperated. 

Bradley just gaped at her as Penny dropped off two more beers. "I haven't done this in a while. Forgive me for not knowing precisely what you intended for me to do here, Nat," he said with a massive eye roll. 

She turned her nose up at him. "You're forgiven. But you need to give me your phone," she said, holding out her hand. 

"For what?" he asked skeptically.

"Just gimme."

Bradley handed it to her and she entered his passcode from memory. "Just don't order anything on my Amazon account, okay? I like my Hawaiian shirts just fine, and I donated all the shit you charged to my credit card last time."

"I'm not ordering you new clothes," she scoffed, tapping away on his screen. "I'm solving all your problems. Now look at me and smile."

Bradley glared at her instead as she snapped a few photos. "These look terrible," she mumbled under her breath as she switched to her own phone. "I have one where you look halfway decent... oh, here it is."

Then she was back on his phone again, and he just gave up trying to understand half of what she did when she wasn't in the air with him.

"Nat, I just don't know that I'll ever get serious with anyone again. Meredith kind of ruined that for me."

Nat was scrolling along on his phone as she said, "Meredith was a flaming asshat. I never liked her. The best thing she ever did was get pregnant with Noah and then dump you."

Bradley was back to cradling his head in his hand. He did not like thinking about the fact that his ex bailed on him and their son when he was just a few months old. It made him feel sick. And now he was partening alone, which was harder than anything he had ever done. 

"Shit," Bradley said, checking his watch. "I need to pick Noah up from daycare. Give me my phone," he said before finishing the last sip of his beer.

"I'm not done yet," Nat mumbled, a frightening grin creeping across her face. "Just one more minute."

Bradley thought about texting Rebel and canceling their tentative coffee date. Nat was probably right about dating another aviator. He didn't even know her actual first name, and she only ever called Bradley Rooster. What the hell kind of weird date would that be like? Talking Super Hornet specs? Comparing tales of punching out and parachute deployments?

He listened to a rapid string of alerts from his phone. "Is someone texting me?" he asked, reaching for his phone. "That's a lot of alerts. Is it Noah's daycare?"

But Nat was holding his phone tight and grinning. "Not texts. Women. Women who think you are cute and like your dating profile."

His eyes went wide. "What the fuck did you do?" he asked, his voice deadly calm. 

"Got you about ten dates if you want them. You're welcome," she said, handing his phone back to him. 

He scrolled through all of the profiles on his screen. "What am I looking at exactly?"

"Well, here's your profile. I used the only decent photos of you in existence. And that's your bio."

Bradley squinted at the screen. "All it says is that I'm 36, a naval aviator, and I like working out. And I have golden retriever energy? What the hell does that mean?"

"It means you're energetic. They'll take that to mean in the bedroom."

"Jesus, Nat. Shouldn't I disclose important things? Like the fact that I'm a dad?"

She shook her head. "Not yet. That's second date material. They are going to want to size you up and see if you're a daddy before they need to know that you're a dad."

He shoved his phone in his pocket as he stood. "I don't have time for this," he grunted, pulling out his wallet and waving at Penny. "If I don't find a babysitter, none of this is going to make any difference anyway."

Penny took his credit card and then paused. "You need a babysitter for Noah? Mav and I can watch him if you need a break, you know that, right?"

Bradley sighed. "Thanks Pen. Yeah, I know that. I'm just looking for something a little more regular. Gonna try dating again," he said, glaring at Nat out of the corner of his eye. 

"I might know someone who would be interested," Penny said, handing the card back to Bradley. "She's a student in her early twenties, I guess. Really smart and seems sweet. Noah would probably like her. She's in classes during the day, but she was looking to babysit at night."

"How do you know her?" Bradley asked, already hesitant to leave his kid alone with a stranger. 

"She's renting a house on my street. I ran into her a few times, and we got to talking. She fed Luna, watered my plants, and got the mail when I took Amelia sailing."

Nat placed her hand on his arm. "I know this is a big step, but you could meet her first before you offer her the job."

Bradley stroked his mustache. "Any chance she would come over and meet me and Noah? So I can make sure she's not creepy?" he asked Penny.

Penny just laughed. "She's not creepy. How about I give her your number if she says she's interested in watching Noah."

"Sounds good," Bradley replied quickly, barely listening to Penny now. "I need to go pick him up. Bye, Nat."

"Don't forget to swipe through all your matches!" she called after him. 

He just waved and made his way to his Bronco. Bradley always felt like he was running all over the place. As much as it bothered him to take Noah to daycare on a Saturday, he felt like he was losing his grip on his life. His friends rarely ever remembered to invite him to the Hard Deck, correctly assuming he wouldn't be able to go. But it would still be nice to be invited. 

Everything felt impossible on his own. He wasn't getting enough sleep. As soon as Noah went to bed, it was a race to try to get every chore finished. Then he had to wake up an hour earlier to insure he had time to get Noah ready and dropped off at daycare on time. Every day was a damn marathon, and he really wished he could get some help.

He would never ever admit it to Nat, but he was lonely. Just the idea of getting to spend an evening eating dinner with a woman practically had him popping a boner. Having the chance to get to know someone again, get to have sex again? He couldn't think about it too long. He'd been spending so much time with his right hand and his imagination. 

As he pulled into the daycare parking lot, he sighed. This was the reason he had forfeited dating. His son. His adorable, perfect son. 

"Ready to go?" he asked, and Noach climbed up into his arms. 

"Yep, daddy," he said, and Bradley carried him out after thanking the daycare staff. 

"Let's get home and eat dinner," Bradley said, pushing Noah's dark curls away from his forehead and kissing him.

And this was the reason Bradley would only ever consider dating someone who liked kids and didn't mind dating a single dad. In spite of the daycare schedule, and the exhaustion and loneliness, Noah was his top priority. 

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

You were just getting back from class and unloading your books from your car when you saw Penny waving to you from her mailbox. As soon as you waved awkwardly with your arms full, she was heading your way.

"Hey, Penny," you said as she walked up your driveway.

"I wanted to chat for a minute. Is it a bad time?" she asked, eyeing up everything in your arms.

You nodded toward the house. "Come inside so I can set everything down."

She followed you in, already going on about someone named Bradley. "He's sweet, and he has an adorable three year old son named Noah. They are looking for a reliable sitter, and I know you mentioned an interest."

"Oh," you replied, dumping everything onto your couch. "This Bradley guy? He's not creepy or anything, right?"

Penny laughed. "He asked the same about you. He's very hesitant to let a stranger watch Noah, but I told him I'd give you his number if you wanted to contact him. Maybe you could just go meet them one day. He's not creepy. He works with Pete. And I swear Noah is irresistable."

You sighed. You really needed some extra income. And you loved kids. And you'd probably be able to study after Noah went to bed for the night. As long as this Bradley wasn't giving off weird vibes, you'd probably want the job.

"Okay, I'll take his number," you said, and soon you were adding Bradley Bradshaw to your contacts. "Thanks, Penny. Hopefully this will work out."

You got lost in your research for the rest of the day on Saturday, and purposely avoided returning texts from Greyson. He only wanted to see you when you were too busy, and he never wanted to see you when you had time for him.

"He's being a douchebag," you whispered as you scrolled through the idiotic things he was sending you. 

Then you opened a new conversation and typed out a draft to this Bradley guy.

Hi, I got your number from Penny Benjamin. She told me you're looking for a reliable babysitter. Any chance you have some free time so I can meet you and your son?

It was late, so you decided to let it sit in your drafts until the following morning. But apparently it wasn't too late for Greyson, who was now asking if you wanted him to send you a dick pic. 

You switched your phone to do not disturb mode after telling him that you would really appreciate it if he didn't send you one. Then you went to bed and dozed off fantasizing about dating a guy who acted like an adult. 

It was so late when you woke up, you decided to skip breakfast and just make yourself lunch. When you switched your phone back to receive messages, you were flooded with a bunch, mostly from Greyson. Luckily there was no dick pic to speak of, but he'd sent you a bunch of nonsense while he was probably drunk or high. 

Then you noticed the draft to Bradley Bradshaw, so you hit send on that one. You had a reply from him before you were even done making a sandwich.

Bradley Bradshaw: Yes, I am looking for a sitter for my son Noah. Penny highly recommended you. I can make time to meet you whenever you are free. Just to be clear, I want to make sure Noah and I are both comfortable around you before proceeding. 

You rolled your eyes. A grown adult man should not be as concerned about you as you should be about him. But, you could see where he was coming from about the prospect of letting a stranger stay with his son. So you replied and started eating your sandwich.

I could stop by this evening to meet you both if you're free.

He wrote back quickly again.

Bradley Bradshaw: That would be great. Anytime after 4. I'll attach my address.

If this guy was creepy or if his son was weird, Penny was going to be hearing about it for the rest of the year.

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

Bradley was just cooking dinner while Noah sat in his high chair coloring, when he heard his doorbell ring. "That might be your potential babysitter, bub," Bradley told him, kissing the top of his head as he grabbed a dish towel and headed for the front door while drying his hands.

But Bradley almost dropped the towel when he opened the door and got a look at you. As your wide eyes drifted up his body and landed on his face, you smiled up at him. 

"Mr. Bradshaw?"

You were stunning. Beautiful, and so fucking young. He swallowed against the saliva pooling in his mouth. Oh shit. 

"Uh, yeah. Hi," he managed, moving out of the doorway so you could step past him and into the living room. "Thanks for coming."

"No problem," you said with a shrug. "I'm looking forward to meeting Noah." You brushed past Bradley, and he closed his eyes. Your lip gloss was distractingly shiny. You smelled like beach grass or wildflowers. You looked like you were barely old enough to drink. 

"He's in the kitchen," Bradley rasped, trying to pull himself together. "Back this way."

You followed Bradley through the house, and as soon as you saw his son sitting in the high chair, you went right to him.

"Hey, Noah! What are you coloring?"

"Dinosaurs," Noah told you, holding out a pink crayon. 

"Cool. I love pink dinosaurs," you replied, starting to color a pterodactyl on the page next to the one he was working on.

"Me too. I like pink and blue dinosaurs the best," he replied. 

Bradley watched you interacting with Noah. You seemed sweet, coloring each dinosaur the color he requested. When Noah mispronounced your name, you just laughed and told him he could call you that. 

When you bent down to retrieve a yellow crayon as it rolled across the floor, Bradley got an excellent view of the backs of your bare thighs as your sundress rode up. He dropped the spatula into the pan, nearly burning himself. He was also nearly burning his dinner.

"Shit," he mumbled as you turned to smile at him before handing the crayon back to Noah. 

"What else do you like to do? Besides color?" you asked. 

Noah started telling you all about drawing with chalk and playing with bubbles outside. "I like snacks and movies. And hiking."

Bradley laughed. "By hiking he means walking around the block if I make it home from work before it's dark out."

"Oh," you said. "I can take you on a hike one day, Noah. I like hiking around the block, too. Maybe we can collect some things like rocks and leaves." 

Bradley listened to Noah tell you about some particularly good rocks he had found last week, and you somehow responded in just the right way.

"You're in the navy?" you eventually asked Bradley, shrugging out of your denim jacket in the hot kitchen, giving Bradley a view of even more of your flawless skin. "Like Pete?"

He cleared his throat, mixing everything in the pan on the stove. "Yeah, I work with him. I'm an aviator."

"Do you want me to call you by your rank? Instead of Mr. Bradshaw?" 

Bradley had to press his lips together, a little scared to know what hearing you call him Lieutenant Bradshaw would do to him. "You can just call me Bradley."

"Okay, Bradley," you said, and unfortunately that did something to him too. "You've got a cute kid. I think Noah and I could have a lot of fun together."

"How old are you?" The words were out of Bradley's mouth before he could rethink them. He almost sounded accusatory, but really he needed to know how bad it was that he couldn't stop looking at your legs.

"Twenty-four," you replied casually. 

Jesus. He was twelve years older than you. But you looked even younger than that. Sweet. Too innocent. 

"I'm in grad school for nursing," you continued. "I'm certified in CPR, and I can treat injuries. I know how to swim. I'm free every day starting at 4. You can run a background check on me if you want to."

Noah looked up at you and asked if you wanted to build blocks with him, and Bradley knew he already felt comfortable enough to leave his son with you while he went on a date with Rebel. 

He could feel his phone vibrating in his pocket. He hadn't taken the time to figure out how to use the dating app that Nat installed, and he was being inundated with matches and messages. He also hadn't given Rebel, whose first name was Grace, a solid answer about when he could get coffee with her.

But for some reason, in spite of the laundry list of women from the app who were interested in going on a date with him, he couldn't take his eyes off of you. 

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" Bradley asked as you built a block tower with Noah on the high chair tray. 

"Oh, no. That's nice of you to ask, but I don't want to crash your meal," you told him over your shoulder. "Here, put this little block on the top. Let's see if we can make it stay," you told Noah, keeping your hands around the sides of the tower until he successfully set down the last piece. Then you tossed your hands into the air and cheered.

Noah turned and looked at you in surprise and you just laughed. "You're good at coloring and blocks?" He just giggled, and soon you were both knocking down the tower and starting over. 

As Bradley scraped his half burned dinner onto a plate, he felt a little disappointed that you were grabbing your jacket and getting ready to leave. Noah looked a little sad, too. 

"Well," Bradley told you, watching you gracefully shrug into your jacket, "you're hired if you think you can put up with the two of us."

You laughed and took a step closer to him. "Noah? He seems like an angel. You on the other hand?"

Bradley's eyes went wide, and you just laughed harder. 

"Only kidding! I'm sure I'll be able to put up with both of you if you think you can put up with me."

You were young and beautiful, and for some reason Bradley wanted to feed you dinner, even though the food he made looked barely edible. 

"I don't think that will be a problem."

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

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[foreverrandomwritings]

🍨Bowl of ice cream: rooster and peach

Just Peachy

Summary: Bradley visits you at work and stumbles upon you in a peach sized predicament.

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x afab!Reader

Warnings:Super fluffy, brief mention of frisky business, one curse word, that's all?

Word count: 1105

Masterlist Taste of Twenty-Five Masterlist

The sweet smell of peach was the first thing Bradley noticed when he walked into the little bakery. He stood by the door scanning the shop as he tucked his aviators into his old academy shirt that was a bit too small on him but made his biceps look devine so he refused to part with it. He took in a deep breath through his nose, closing his eyes briefly the smell of all the different sweets overtaking his senses. 

“She’s in the back you weirdo.” The brass voice of your younger sister flew his way. His eyes snapped open glancing in the eighteen year olds direction. He felt the smirk coming upon his lips as he sauntered around the customers that were milling about the store. He lifted the counter top and slipped through the opening before speaking to her.

“You’re mighty bold today I see.” He and your sister had a nice back and forth relationship. The closest thing to a sibling bond he’s ever had. She had been working in your bakery for a couple months now, needing some money and a part time job while in college. 

“You were scaring off all the customers standing by the door with your creepy pornstache.” She kept her voice low and gestured towards the door of the shop with the hand that wasn’t writing on a small chalkboard sign. He glanced at the words briefly, noticing something about peaches but not really focusing on what it said. 

“Hey, you said the stache looked just fine.” He held a hand over his heart and she rolled her eyes dramatically. The dramatic eye roll was one of the things you both had in common. 

“Get out of here, I’m sick of looking at your face.” He scoffed but did as she said, turning around and finding his way into the kitchen. He spotted your form quickly, huddled over a cutting board, knife in hand. He was quiet as he snuck up behind you, his arms wrapping around your middle as he pressed himself into your back. 

“How are you doing today, hot stuff?” His nose was buried in your neck before you could respond. You giggled lightly at the feeling of his mustache tickling your neck. 

“I am just peachy.” You giggled at your own joke as you looked down at the peach in your hand. He peered over your shoulder and let out a small laugh as well. 

“Not that I’m not happy to see you but I thought you were working late today.” You had set down the knife and the peach in your hand. You grabbed the towel tucked into your apron and wiped your hands off quickly. Bradley stepped back a foot letting you turn around. You leaned your back against the counter and gave him a sweet smile. 

“I did work late, it's already seven.” His eyes flicked to the clock hanging on the wall across the room. Your eyes got wide in return quickly flipping your wrist over to check the time on your watch. The bakery didn’t close for another hour and a half but you were still surprised at the time. 

“Oh my. I didn’t even realize it was getting so late. I’ve been trying to figure out what to do with all these peaches for hours.” You gestured around the room and that’s when Bradley noticed the insane amount of peaches crowding the space. 

“This is an awful lot of peaches babe.” He held his lips together tightly trying to hold in a laugh at the bewildered look on your face. 

“I’ve already made like ten peach pies, a couple dozen muffins, two cakes and a dozen scones.” You threw your hands up in emphasis, eyes widening every so slightly.

“Is there a reason you have so many peaches?” He was genuinely curious, typically when you had a big order of anything you’d let him know. He however hadn’t heard of any big orders involving peaches from you recently. 

“If someone hadn’t distracted me while I was ordering produce last week I wouldn’t have ordered this many.” Your eyes narrowed at him, cheeks heating at the memory of last week, shifting on your feet. 

“You weren’t complaining last week.” He had a cheshire grin on his lips now. You had been in the office when he came in last week. Clad in his flight suit and a black t-shirt that hugged him in all the right ways. Things had gotten a little heated and had left you distracted while you were putting in your orders for the week. So instead of the twenty peaches you wanted to order for a few muffins and scones you had planned to bake you had received two hundred peaches. 

“Since you’re the one that put me into this mess you are gonna help me out of it.” It was your turn to have a large smile on your face. His eyebrows shoot up at the mischievous look in your eye. 

“Go wash your hands and grab an apron. You're gonna help me cut up some of these to freeze.” He groaned loudly as the words left your mouth. He didn’t actually mind helping however, it reminded him of all the times he would help his mom and grandmother in the kitchen growing up.

“Can I at least have a kiss first?” He puckered his lips at you and you looked as though you were contemplating whether or not you were gonna kiss him. He was about to complain before you stood on your tiptoes to land a quick kiss upon his lips. 

“Now get to work.” He gave a mock salute and made his way to grab an apron hung up by the sink. He tied it quickly before washing his hands and coming to stand beside you again. 

“How’d I get lucky enough to get such a take charge girlfriend?” The question was rhetorical and you both knew it but that didn’t stop you from answering him as you passed him his own cutting board, knife and bowl, the carton of peaches sat between you. 

“You have a really nice ass is all.” You shrugged at him nonchalantly giggling at the way his nose scrunched up. 

“Good to know that’s all you needed.” He looked at you however and instead of the smell of peaches taking over his senses it was the way you were looking at him. Your eyes held so much love and adoration it was all consuming. There would never be a day that he wouldn’t remind you just how lucky he was to call you his. 

A/N:This has taken forever to write and I am so sorry. I am hoping to get to the rest very soon. Thank you all for reading, likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

Tags(open): @wkndwlff @sylviebell @kmc1989 @eternallyvenus @loving-and-dreaming

[telekineticseance]

NOISE COMPLAINT

kinktober day two: roleplay

pairing: doug remer x f! reader

summary: "officer" remer arrives on a noise complaint call

genre: smut

word count: 1932

cw: oral sex (m!receiving), fingering(f!receiving), handcuffs, unprotected sex

author's note: this one was a lot of fun to write because i love writing silly remer moments

You groaned as you finished looking at yourself in the mirror, the black lingerie with the stockings and heels were a little over the top but Remer had specifically messaged you, asking you to put them on before he got home because he had something planned and said it was VERY important you wore that specific outfit.

The knock at the front door caused you to jump as you quickly grabbed your robe, wrapping it around as you walked towards the door. “Shit shit shit,” You whispered under your breath, looking through the peephole to see who it was only to see the peephole covered and blurry, “I fucking told him to fix that.” You muttered before opening the door seeing an officer standing at the door.

“Uh hello.” You spoke softly causing the officer to spin around. You were taken aback by the familiar face of your boyfriend with a serious look on his face as he looked at you, along with a cheap party store pornstache.

“Hello ma’am, I was called about a noise complaint coming from this establishment.” He spoke up, holding the very large belt buckle that sat on his waist.

You tried to hold back a laugh as you gave him a blank stare with the occasional blinking.

He got a little closer, leaning in, “It’s me. Remer. Your boyfriend.” He whispered softly.

“What are you doing?”

“I am here on a call of a noise complaint. Can I come in and have a look around?” He asked leaning back into his earlier position, thrusting his hips in the air as he rocked on his heels for a moment, keeping his hands on the belt buckle.

You continued to give him a look, confused as he continued to rock on his heels, eyes scanning you. “Doug..”

“Excuse me ma’am but it’s Officer Remer. Now please let me in to um…investigate?” He spoke the last part almost as if it were a question.

You let out a small sigh, deciding to play along with him, “Do you have a warrant?”

His eyes widened as he parted his mouth to speak, closing it, before speaking again, “I uh..I..” He dropped his hands to his sides as he started to pout slightly, “Really?”

“Really what? Do you have a search warrant?” You paused, you crossed your arms over your chest as you leaned against the door frame, “I know my rights, Officer Remer.”

He let out a small groan, reaching his hand into his pocket before pulling out a piece of paper, “Here’s that search warrant.” He gave you a small wink as he placed the paper in your hand.

You took the paper and skimmed over it before looking back at him, “This is a receipt for a cop costume.”

“Babe please.” Remer pouted again, practically stomping his feet at the fact you weren’t really playing along to the little scheme he had obviously been thinking about for a while.

You let out a sigh before returning your gaze back to the paper, “Oh I see you do have the right paperwork Officer. Please come in.” You dramatically moved to the side, motioning for Remer to come in, as he started to walk in, his shoes making loud thumping noises as he walked.

“So when was the noise complaint made Officer?” You asked, closing the door behind Remer, turning your gaze to him. His fake mustache was very obviously starting to fall off on one side and he noticed you looking before raising his hand to lay it back down before speaking up, “Just a few minutes ago. Said they heard screams and wanted to make sure nothing bad was happening.”

“Screams? Oh well nothing like that here I’m afraid. Just me all by my lonesome self.” You responded, getting an idea as you lowered the shoulder of your robe slightly, revealing the strap to the bra, along with a little bit of the breast part as well.

Remer turned his gaze from looking around to looking at you before gulping slightly at the sight of you slowly revealing lingerie. “Something the matter Officer?”

He quickly cleared his throat in response, straightening out as his gaze narrowed, “Well with no proof of it being quiet I’m afraid I will have to give you a ticket of some sort.” He pulled out a notepad as he said this, along with a pen which he tapped lightly on his tongue before writing, causing you to let out a small laugh.

“Ma’am this is no laughing matter.”

“You’re right, officer, I'm completely sorry. Please continue.”

You watched as he finished writing, ripping the page from the notepad before handing it to you with a terribly hidden shit eating grin on his face. “Now uh.. if you don’t want to have a ticket I’m sure we can find out.. other ways of payment?” He spoke while wiggling his brows and biting his bottom lip lightly.

The sound of your heels clicked on the floor as you walked across the room to the chair where you sat, crossing your legs and opening your robe so he could see the stockings and garters. You undid the tie around your waist as you let the shoulder of the robe drop even lower, “Oh dear officer. You’re right I don’t have the money for this.. What other forms of payment did you have in mind?”

Your gaze looked at him, trying to have the same pouty look porn stars give when they couldn’t pay for their pizza from the pizza guy.

“I have a few ideas.” He pulled out some handcuffs from the little side pouch he had and let them dangle on his finger, “Might have to take you down to the station though.”

You continued to try not to laugh from how silly this was becoming. “Oh dear, officer. If you insist.”

You stood up from the chair, dropping the robe down to the floor before walking over to Remer with your arms out, “Do what you need to do.”

His eyes scanned you as he licked his lips, before taking his bottom one in between his teeth. His hands moved to arms, forcing you to turn around before putting the handcuffs on your wrists.

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do, officer?” You asked him, looking at him over your shoulder. “I think if you just gave me a minute of your time we could get this sorted out. I mean after all you said you had a few ideas.”

Remer’s grip on your wrists loosened before he turned you back around, “Get on your knees.”

You slowly got down to your knees, looking up at your boyfriend as you did so, before watching him start unbuckling his pants and pull them down along with his boxers, just enough for his cock to spring out from underneath.

His hand started rubbing at his length, as you watched from his face down his hand. He used his other hand to messily collect your hair before he moved towards your mouth, putting his tip against your lips, “Open.”

You quickly obeyed, opening your mouth before he thrusted in. He started thrusting more aggressively than usual, but it wasn’t like you really minded.

The only noises that escaped from Remer were the soft pants and moans he would make when he would have his cock in your mouth. You swirled your tongue around causing him to let out a deep groan, the grip on your hair tightening.

You felt your clit start to throb and ache from the sounds he would make, the feeling of him making you want him even more than you normally would.

You tried to move your wrists away from the handcuffs, hoping that you could relieve some sort of pressure from yourself by using your own hands but the handcuffs were surprisingly well made and unable to break.

His hips started to stutter as he thrusted, the occasional gagging you had against his length starting to slow. You felt the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat before he came, one last groan escaping from his mouth.

He pulled out, watching you swallow and wiping the excess cum from the side of your lips.

“What a good girl.” Remer’s voice spoke deeply as he grabbed your arm lifting you from the ground.

“Now about that noise complaint.” He spoke before turning you around, pushing you down to bend over the counter before pulling your panties down to your ankles.

He ran his fingers along your slit causing you to let out a gasp, digging your nails into your palm once he inserted the fingers.

“So wet already and I’ve hardly touched you.” He curled his fingers inside, pumping them a few times before pulling out causing you to whine.

“Calm down, I barely even pulled away.” He teased before you felt him slide his cock in causing you to let out a moan, feeling your walls stretch from the size. One of his hands held onto your waist, while the other grabbed the chain of the handcuff, holding himself stable while he thrusted.

The sounds spilling from your mouth were a mixture of moans and curses, feeling like the whole room was going black. Of course you and Remer had tried handcuffs before, but something about this time was different and it made your eyes roll to the back of your head.

You felt Remer’s hand move from the handcuffs as he started to rub at your clit while he thrusted, causing chills to run down your spine, the sounds of your moans increasing.

“Fuck Doug,” You whimpered out, knowing how much he loved when you used his first name. Everyone called him Remer, it was his thing, even you called him that. But the sound of you moaning his name was music to his ears.

He thrusted faster, the tight grip on the chain just getting tighter before he lifted you up to where your back was pressed against his still clothed torso. You turned your head to look at him before he started kissing your neck, sucking and licking, everything he could to make sure to leave a few marks.

You felt chills start to build up throughout your body, feeling like you were going to explode. “So close.”

“Me too baby. Me too.” He whimpered into your ear. You loved the noises he would make when he came. A mixture of whines and whimpers as his hips stuttered, the noises almost sounded feminine when he did.

Suddenly, the chills in your body reached the highest point before it was almost like it stopped, your walls flexing around Remer’s cock as you felt his pacing grow sloppy, his heart racing against your back before he came for the second time that evening.

The breathing between you two was heavy, the occasional moan slipping out.

Shortly after, you felt Remer unlock the handcuffs, throwing them on the counter in front of you before turning you around so your ass was pressed up against the counter.

He pushed his lips into your, the feeling of the fake mustache he still wore causing you to giggle before he pulled away, “What’s so funny?”

You raised your hands pulling the mustache off his face, throwing it to the side. “I think you look better with a clean shave.” You whispered, lightly running your thumb across his upper lip.

“And I think maybe we should try doing a doctor one of these next?” He asked before kissing you once more.

[mynameismckenziemae]

She’s a Fire-Chapter I

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x OFC/Reader (no use of y/n)

She’ll be my 3rd degree

(next chapter here)

Warnings: dry humping, fluff, etc.

A/N: I don’t believe you have to read Ain’t No Sunshine but I think it might help.

You pull into Penny’s a little before 11 and she meets you in the driveway.

“Rowan, how nice to see you again! How was the drive? You must be exhausted” she says as she takes a bag from you.

“Nice to see you too! It wasn’t bad, I tried to pull over and sleep but I couldn’t. And yes, I am pooped,” you laugh as you follow her up the stairs. “Thank you so much for this and everything, Sunny too. You have no idea how much stress this has taken off me.”

“No problem at all. Sun left most of the furniture except her bed, she said you were bringing yours?”

“Yeah, my apartment in Denver was furnished, but I bought my own bed. I think the movers will be here Monday, they’ll get the majority of my other things too.”

“Sounds good, I hope you don’t mind, but I made up the pullout for you.” She says as she unlocks the door for you.

“Oh, you are a lifesaver. Thank you! I was gonna crash on the nearest flat surface.”

“You’re welcome. Here’s the kitchen, the living room, the bathroom is here and the bedroom next to it. Do you want help getting anything else out of your car? Otherwise, I’ll get out of your hair and let you rest.”

“Oh, thank you, but that’s okay. I’ve got everything I need for now in these 2 bags, I’ll bring up the rest later.” You yawn.

“Sounds good, let me know if you need anything. I’ll be at the party later, I’ve got to take Amelia to her dad’s first”.

“Great. Thank you again.”

She squeezes your shoulder and closes the door behind her.

You slip your shoes off and set an alarm before plugging your phone on and falling into a deep sleep.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

A few hours later you arrive at the Hard Deck; showered, hair curled into loose waves down your back, and clad in a green sundress. You feel great and look even better.

It’s only 3:40, so you take a seat at the bar while you wait. The door swings open and you check out the hunk who walked through. Tight jeans on thick thighs, a white tank stretched over his pecs under a godawful Hawaiian shirt. He somehow pulls it off, same with the mustache he sports. You look away before he sees you staring and poke at your drink.

You check your phone in your lap to see if Sunny’s texted, but nothing. There’s movement to your right, someone’s taken the empty seat beside you. It’s the pornstache hunk. You can feel him staring after he orders.

“Before you ask, yes. The curtains match the drapes.” You say with a smile, not looking at him.

He chokes on his drink. “What? I didn’t- I wasn’t going—“ he sputters, choking on his beer.

You laugh as you turn towards him. He’s even more handsome up close. Brown eyes, a strong nose, and scars on his cheek add character. A flush is crawling up his neck, you caught him off guard.

He’s looking you over too. Deep green blue eyes, pouty painted lips, long red hair.

“I haven’t seen you here before. I’d remember you.” He says, eyes dipping to your lips.

“You’re right. I just moved here from Colorado.”

“What made you decide to come here?”

“Job offer and I wanted a change of scenery”.

“Oh yeah? What do you do?”

“Chemical engineering.”

He whistles lowly.

“What about you, pornstache? What do you do for a living?”

“Pornstache?” He chuckles. “I’m a naval aviator.”

“Ah, I see. Call sign?”

“Rooster.”

You glance at his groin before meeting his eyes again, cocking a brow. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, voice a little husky. He clears his throat and takes another drink. “You here alone?”

You shake your head, “No, I’m meeting a friend here, she should be here soon. You?”

“Same, who are you meeting? I might know them?”

“Her name is S—oh shit,” you say as a drunk uniform spills his nearly full beer in your lap.

“Ohhh, my bad. Need my help taking your wet dress off?” He slurs, his stale beer breath hitting your face.

“No thanks,” you say, sighing as you try and mop it up.

“Come on, I was just kidding. You should lighten up” he leers, putting a heavy hand on your shoulder.

“She said no thanks. Apologize and get the hell outta here, Ensign Johnson. I’ll be having a discussion with your commanding officer on Monday about teaching you to respect a lady.” Bradley says from behind you with a commanding tone.

“Fuck, sorry. I didn’t know she was with you, Rooster, I mean Lt. Bra—“

“It doesn’t matter if she’s with me or not. You spilled a drink on her, didn’t apologize, and then tried to hit on her. Now, apologize.” He rises to his feet.

“I-I’m sorry ma’am, for the drink and…and”

“It’s fine, you better go now.” You reply, still trying to mop the mess.

He and his buddies scurry away.

“Come with me, I can get you some towels. I used to work here.” He says, holding out his hand.

You take it. “That’d be great, thanks.”

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

He brings you to a storage room and hands you some clean towels.

“Damn it. It’s no use. It’s satin, so even when it dries I’m still gonna look like I peed my pants” you laugh, holding the wet material off your thighs.

“Could your friend bring you something to change into?” He asks, taking the wet one from you.

“I’m sure she would. Wait, I have clothes in my car yet. Know how I told you I just moved here? Well…like literally moved here today and didn’t bring all of the boxes in yet. I’m gonna soak my underwear thought if I don’t get this off soon.”

“Do you want me to get you something from your car?”

“You’d do that?” You asked, surprised. You were used to men who did the bare minimum.

“Of course, gotta show you how most naval men act, not like that jackass. Give me your keys and I’ll grab you something.”

“Thank you, it’s the white Volkswagen in the back. There’s dresses on top in the trunk, any of them should work.”

“You got it, be back in a second.”

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

You unzip the dress and step out of it as soon as he leaves, unable to stand the feeling of wet satin sticking to your thighs. Leaving you in your heels, bra, and lacy boyshorts. You turn to look for something to put it in and you see a box of plastic bags on the top shelf. You stand on your tiptoes and almost have it…

“Does this one work? I think it’ll look nice with your eyes. Shit, sorry!” You hear the door close and he turns around.

Oops, he was back faster than you thought.

“No worries, I just had to get it off, it was irritating my skin. I figured this is no different than seeing me in a bikini” You walk up behind him. He flinches when you touch his shoulder to turn him around to take the dress.

He slowly turns to you and gulps, looking towards the ceiling, trying to be respectful.

You’re not sure what’s gotten into you as you step closer and ‘accidentally’ brush the bulge growing in his jeans as you reach for the dress.

“Yeah, Rooster makes sense.” You smile as he sucks in a breath and drops his head to look at you.

You rise to your tiptoes to kiss him, which he returns immediately with enthusiasm. His hands go straight to your ass and squeeze, groaning into your mouth. He’s an ass man apparently.

His hands slide lower and he lifts you, turning to pin you against the door, his jean-clad erection pressed right against your core. You pull off his lips with a whine, and he kisses a path down your neck, his mustache tickling in the best way.

His hips continue rocking against yours, and he groans as he can feel your wet heat through the layers.

“Keep going, just like that” you pant, surprised that you’re getting close.

He groans again, lower this time, and sucks a bruise below your collarbone. The little zing of pain is enough to push you over the edge. Your legs tighten around his waist and your hands weave into his hair to tug his head up for a kiss and he swallows your whimpers.

Once you catch your breath, he sets you down, “That was so fucking hot” he pants against your lips.

You smile and bring your hand to his zipper, ready to return the favor but his phone dings, startling you both.

“Shit! What time is it? My friend was supposed to be here at 4.” You say, pulling your dress on and smoothing your hair. Thankfully the dress covers the mark he left by your collarbone.

“4:33, my friends are here too.” He says, putting his phone back in his pocket.

“I’m sorry about your…situation, but I really gotta go find my friend but I’ll be here for a while tonight, come find me?” you ask as you grab your purse.

“It’s okay, I gotta go too. I just…need a minute,” he chuckles, “but yeah, I’ll find you”.

You run your fingertips across the front of his pants and kiss his cheek. “See you around”.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

You spot her curly hair from across the bar.

“Sunny!” You say, wrapping her in a hug.

“Row! Sorry I was late, I was uh-preoccupied?” Well, that explains her baby giraffe legs. “Hey, this is Bob, my boyfriend.” She says.

“Nice to meet you finally, I’m Rowan,” you say with a smile, shaking his hand. He returns it.

“Are you feeling okay? You look a little flushed.” Sunny asks.

“Yeah, I’m good. Just a little nervous is all.” Yeah, she’s not gonna buy that.

“Don’t be! Everyone’s gonna love you. Oh, there’s Bradley now. I’ll introduce you.” Sunny says, waving someone over.

Pornstache’s eyes widen when he sees you behind Sunny.

“Bradley, this is my good friend Rowan from college. She’s the engineer moving here from Colorado, staying at Pen’s apartment,” Sunny turns to you, “and this is Bradley, my childhood friend. Our dads flew together in the Navy”.

“Rowan. That’s a pretty name. What does it mean?” Bradley asks you.

“Little redhead. I bet you can figure out why my parents chose it” you smirk, holding out your hand. “Great to meet you, Bradley.”

He takes your hand. “Likewise” he murmurs, looking at your lips, which turn up into a seductive smile.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Wellllllll there’s part one. Whatcha think? Lmk if you want to be added to this stories taglist!

[rogerswifesblog]

Please Please Please write the video idea😩😩😩 where lloyd is all whiny and pouty when he gets comfort from his girlfriend and he changed his demeanor when he realized she's recording him🤣🤣🤣

Yes yes I love soft!Lloyd😍😍😍❤️

Soft

Lloyd is a softie-when you’re alone, of course. He’d never show his soft side to anyone other than you…he doesn’t notice he’s being recorded.

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Warnings: soft Lloyd (it’s a warning), implied smut

Lloyd buried his face into your neck, mumbling something in a whiny voice against your skin. Giving him a gentle kiss on the head, you slowly pull him a bit away. “What did you say, Bear?” you asked quietly, knowing he wanted a bit more cuddling and comfort after a mission gone wrong.

He loves cuddling you, laying between your legs, resting his head on your breasts… if naked he likes playing and sucking on your nipples but he also loves cuddling with clothes on. It’s just so comforting, having you this close against him.

“He called it a trash-stash” he whined into your neck, holding you even closer. You laughed quietly, kissing his head again. It’s not the first time he felt insecure about this- even though you always told him you loved his mustache. You loved how it tickled your skin when he kissed you or tickled your neck, thighs or stomach with it. He loved teasing you.

Cupping his face in your hands you slowly pulled him in an open mouthed kiss before licking into his mouth and brushing your hand over his hair. “Baby, I love your moustache. It’s not a trash-stash, it’s… a pornstach” you grinned, making him also grin lightly.

Once again Lloyd buried his face into your neck, giggling quietly. “Yeah? Then I’m happy you like it” he grinned into your skin, leaving gentle pecks along your neck. Laughing, you let him kiss and tickle your skin.

It doesn’t happen very often that you two can have quiet moments like this- and you want to freeze this moment forever.

Or even better.

Record it.

Quietly you took your phone from the nightstand and started recording Lloyd who was still kissing your neck sweetly yet aggressively, making you laugh whenever his mustache tickled your skin.

“Lloyd stop, it’s tickling” you laughed pushing his head away. He started whining when you pushed his forehead away. “Nooooo, don’t do that. Want kisses” he pouted, taking your hand and once again nestling his face into your neck, clinging to you for dear life.

Grinning you looked at the camera, showing his whole body nestled between your legs and laying like a heavy blanket over you.

With a smirk on your lips you loosened your legs from around his hips and put them aside, making him whine loudly. “Why’d you do that?” He grabbed your legs, putting them once again tightly around his body, nestling his face back into your neck.

“My teddy bear wants cuddles?” you laughed into his hair, while he nodded. “Yeah, cuddles…lots of cuddles” he mumbled in a funny voice into your skin.

You looked again at the camera. “That’s my big, bad bear here. A veeery dangerous species, in his natural environment -his girlfriend arms-“ “what are- Don’t record me, woman” he started the sentence still in a more softly voice, but when he noticed you holding the camera his voice turned much deeper while he sat up.

Laughing, you hold your phone out of his reach, still recording. “Come on- you can’t record me like that. Nobody can see me like this” he mumbled once again, more whiny while trying to grab the phone but you pressed your knee against his chest when he leaned in. “Nope, I’m keeping this.”

“Delete the recording.”

Lloyd used the voice he always used during questioning or torturing. That deep, hot voice.

Which made you only grin wider.

“Aw baby, you know what that voice does to me. You know I’m not scared… but maybe if you whine a bit more I’ll stop recording. But I’m not deleting anything” grinning you watched him think for a moment. Probably thinking about another strategy to make you delete the awful recording.

“You have to delete it. It’s a crime to record someone without their permission.”

The loud laugh that escaped your lips made Lloyd blush slightly, not being able to stop the grin on his own lips. Okay, he had to admit that was stupid.

You looked back at the camera. “Here folks, you heard him. It’s a crime. Because he definitely hates crimes and is against them” you grinned cheekily.

He sighed, laying once again down on your chest, hiding his face against your skin. “You’re awful.”

“And you love me for that, Lloyd” you whispered in his hair, scratching his back gently. “I’m definitely gonna show the video on our wedding day.”

“But we’re not engaged.”

You thought for a moment.

“Then you should propose.”

“I don’t want to if you’re keep the recording.”

“Then I’ll ask you myself”

Lloyd lifted his head. “Then I’ll say no.”

You lifted your eyebrows slightly. “Are you sure you’d say no?”

He sighed, letting his head fall back on your chest. “….no…”

There was still a little smile on his lips. Would you really be open to marrying him? He had never thought about having this. He’d never expected anyone to love him strong enough to want to spend the rest of their life with him.

Most people didn’t like him. He was ruthless and cold on the outside, not being someone people wanted to get to know better. Nobody ever tried to get to know his soft side- the side only you knew.

He lifted his head, watching you for a moment.

“Let’s make a compromise….You can keep your video, but I want one for myself, too” he grinned slightly, pulling his phone out of his pants pocket, turning on the camera and putting it on the nightstand, showing you and him on top of you.

Lloyd pushed your shirt up, kissing down your stomach with a smirk on his lips.

“Show me how much you like my moustache.”

Thanks for reading!

Feedback?

[remersgf]

doug remer hcs 💌

doug remer x (mostly)fem!reader

sfw & nsfw

enjoy!

sfw:

- hates doing his own laundry but loves doing yours

- definitely doesn’t pocket one of your panties

- (yes he definitely does)

- likes to pick out your nail color when you get your nails done

- usually picks out like hot pink or something kinda obnoxious

- he likes to come with sometimes, once he got a pedi with you and he was in heaven

- calls you honey and baby 🤭

- generally goes easy on petnames though

- really likes to hold one of your boobs while spooning or sleeping, not in a sexual way; he just likes the warmth & squishiness. it’s comforting to him

- really just likes your tits in general

- kisses the top of ur head :((

- also likes to squeeze ur cheeks together and kiss your puckered lips

- loooves when you play with his hair or tug on it he MELTS

- if you have curly hair, he’ll twirl it around his fingers absentmindedly all the time

- and washes it for u!! you taught him and now he’s obsessed

- love language is physical touch and acts of service

- loves bringing you trinkets; whether it’s a rock he found on the side of the road or a tiny clown figurine he bought

- i feel like his scent is really strong LMAO

- not in a stinky way, but like if he slept in your bed or something you’d smell remer on the pillows for a few days

- bisexual or unlabeled tbh

nsfw:

- boob n thigh man fosho

- slaps his dick against ur face when ur about to give him head

- lightly though obv. playful.

- (channeling orgazmo matt stone) one time u convinced him to grow a pornstache and he called it the ‘kitty tickler’

- i feel likes he’s a rlly sexually natured person (am i projecting)

- his sex drive is so high omg

- he’s usually always in the mood but he’s able to hold back so as to not make you uncomfortable

- be prepared to FUCK LIKE RABBITSSSS

- service soft dom vibes

- but can also be subby as hell

- HE WHIMPERS‼️

- and also lowkey moans like a chick i will die on this hill

- super vocal during sex

- reaaalllyyyy talented at eating you out and he LOVES it

- same w sucking u off!! (m!reader)

- no joke he could and would eat you out for hours

- would be SO down to a threesome with coop

- loves loves loves to tease you

- in bed but also in public too

- during sex i feel like he’d love controlling ur orgasm and edging you

- teasing you and teasing you until you can’t take it anymore!!!

- in public he’d whisper filthy things into your ears

- ‘when we get home, if it’s cool with you, i’m gonna fuck so hard till all the thoughts in your pretty head disappear. poor thing won’t be able to walk in the morning’

pt.2 likely coming soon <3

[gennyanydots]

'Cause you're the only one who's on my mind

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x f!reader

Written for @roosterforme ‘s Love is in the air tgm playlist challenge.

My song was “Untouched” by The Veronicas

Masterlist

Life isn’t fair. It really isn’t. The universe found the absolute perfect man for you, better than you could have ever dreamed. He’s hotter than hell especially when he takes his shirt off. One of the nicest people you’ve ever met. Willing to do just about anything for anyone. Attentive. Caring. Funny. Exactly everything you would want in a boyfriend. But there’s always a catch, isn’t there?

You met him in a place you swore you’d never be able to meet a guy worth dating at. A bar. Your best friend had met some hot guy that afternoon when she was out and he told her that they should meet up at some bar later. She told him she couldn’t since it was your monthly girls night out but he told her to bring all her friends and he would bring his. So your girls night out headed out to this random looking dive bar and changed the course of your life for the next few months.

The bar seemed to be crawling with men. Attractive men. Some women here and there but definitely not an even mix. Your friends had each already found a guy to flirt with, including the one your best friend met that afternoon, in the first ten minutes and left you at the bar alone. You were fine with that. You were still looking around and getting your bearings in the new bar. It definitely didn’t lack in things to look at. The walls were filled with different decorations. The mugs on the ceiling was an interesting design choice but you could get behind it.

While looking around, you just happened to glance towards the door and watched as the most beautiful man you had ever seen walk in the bar with a 70’s pornstache while wearing the most ridiculous Hawaiian shirt you had ever seen. Maybe you need to get your head checked. You must being going crazy. A pornstache and a Hawaiian shirt really seemed to be doing it for you and you’re really not sure why. Anyone else and you would have looked away by now but you continued to watch him as he looked around the bar, his eyes finally landing on you and he grinned noticing you looking straight at him. You quickly averted your gaze and felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. Of course, he saddled up to the bar next to you taking the open bar stool to your left.

“Hey, do you have a bandaid?” He asked as he sat down with a grin on his handsome face.

“Uh yeah, I think so,” you said as you opened your bag and went to hand him one but he didn’t take it. He just sat with a grin on his face.

“I need one because I just scraped my knee falling for you.”

You raised an eyebrow and threw the bandaid back into your bag and zipped it closed, “That was terrible.”

“It can only get better from here then,” he said, still with that grin plastered on his face. “I’m Bradley, but you can call me yours if you want.” Then he winked at you.

You tried to resist him and his stupid pickup lines, of which he seemed to have an endless supply of, you really did. It was too hard. He was charming, even while wearing that ridiculous shirt of his. He was too funny to ignore. Too handsome. Too everything. You couldn’t help but give in to his advances. You ended up agreeing to one date with him. Just one. Then he convinced you to go on another. Then another. And another. Until you were spending as much time as possible with each other. It was the most fun you’d ever had with any one person. You found out just how many Hawaiian shirts one man could own. But then he had to leave. He had orders.

You both fell hard and fast for each other but then he was gone. Deployed. Somewhere. He couldn’t tell you and you didn’t ask. You had only known each other for a month. A MONTH! And yet as he kissed you goodbye and told you he’d see you when he came home, you watched him walk out your door, with tears streaming down your face, and you knew he was leaving with your entire heart in the palm of his hands.

Your friends thought you were crazy waiting around for someone you barely knew. That the month you spent together wasn’t long enough to base any sort of relationship off of. That you didn’t know him well enough to judge whether you wanted to be with him or not, especially in this tough of a relationship. Plus, it’s not like he made you any promises when he left so it was wrong for him to expect you to wait around.

But that was the thing. He didn’t ask you to wait. He didn’t say anything about that at all when he left. It was your choice to wait for him. You wanted to wait. You wanted to give this a chance. To you it made sense to wait. You knew there wasn’t anyone who was going to be able to compare to Bradley so why even try? You didn’t care what they say or what they think. Bradley was the only one who’s on your mind.

It’s not like you didn’t still go out with your friends. You did. You just turned down every person who came up to you, unless they were offering to buy you a drink because free drinks are free drinks after all.

Bradley’s been gone for close to 6 months now. The longest 6 months of your life. You’ve been able to talk to him twice while he’s been gone and both times not for very long. Just long enough to update each other on the goings on in your lives and to tell him how much you miss him. But anything is better than nothing.

You were kind of procrastinating at work today. You were ahead in some things and you didn’t really feel like pushing yourself today. It was rainy which made it worse. All you wanted to do was climb back in bed. Every once in a while you stared out the window watching the rain fall. It was something to do. You were really just clicking around on your computer to make it look like you were vaguely working. Your motivation was shot for the day but thankfully work was so close to being done.

It was a surprise to see Bradley’s name pop up on your phone and you hurried to answer it, excited to be able to talk to him.

“Bradley!”

“Hey honey! It’s so good to hear your voice.”

You smile, “It’s so good to hear yours too! How are things?”

“They’re good. What about you?”

“Just the normal stuff. Kinda a blah day at work today. It’s raining too so no fun.”

“Well, I hope I can make it better.”

“Getting to talk to you definitely makes it better.”

“I think I can do better than that.”

“Yeah? How are you going to do that?” You ask.

“Look outside.”

You furrow your brow then turn to the window and look, seeing a familiar blue Bronco sitting parallel to the sidewalk outside your office window.

“Wha…. What?” You stutter out.

“C’mon, time to go honey,” he says as he gestures for you to come out.

“K,” you quickly hang up and gather your things before telling to your boss that you had to go then you rush outside to see Bradley standing in the rain holding the car door open for you.

“Let’s go! Before you melt in the rain!” He calls to you with a laugh and you run towards him and jump into his arms. He catches you and holds you flush against him as your legs wrap around his waist and your lips meet his.

After a minute or so you pull away, “That was probably the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Baby, you have set the bar so low for me. I can’t wait to blow your mind with how romantic I can be,” he says with a grin then with one hand behind your head pulls you down for another kiss.

[princessbrunette]

https://www.tumblr.com/starfxkr/740268613782683648/summer-of-72-john-b-x-reader-stealers-wheel

i forget which anon said something abt 70s john b but now it wont leave my mind - 🐰

humping john b’s dumb pornstache that he experimentally grows out <3

[callsign-phoenix]

I wrote this as a part of my advent calendar fics, I hope you like it!

It is a Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x gn!reader imagine.

Thank you @marvelandotherfandomimagines for proofreading!

Day 10: ugly Christmas sweaters

Warnings: none

“You’re not getting me into one of those,” your boyfriend threatened as you showed him the sweaters you had bought for the two of you.

It was a matching set, dark green with red, white and brown patterns running around, depicting reindeer, candy canes and other Christmas ornaments that ran around your ribcage.

You were already wearing it and holding his one up beside you, only to find Bradley vehemently shaking his head, sprawled out on the couch with a look of defiance.

A chuckle left your lungs at the way his lips turned into a frown, his pornstache following the movement and accentuating it.

He moaned softly in annoyance when you kept looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to do as you asked.

You were both waiting for the other to act, until Bradley finally took initiative.

“Baby, you can’t make me wear that”, he deadpanned, his voice solemn and gentle, but his eyes pleading.

He had phrased it like he wouldn’t budge but his gaze betrayed him, it showed that you had much more say in what he’d do than he himself did.

You shook your head in feigned disappointment, both of you pretending to believe what he was saying.

“You’re a big bad aviator, your ego is too vulnerable to be fashionable?” You asked calmly, and Bradley let out a heartfelt laugh as his eyebrows knit together.

“I’d argue that ‘ugly sweaters’ aren’t made to be fashionable,” he mumbled, his laugh turning into a grumbling sound at the end of the sentence, showing just how much he hated it.

You took a second before you took the last few steps towards the couch, settling onto it and straddling him in an act of persuasion.

“Do I have to force you?” You asked seductively, lowering your head to his so you were almost speaking against his lips.

Bradley’s hands settled on your waist and he let out a chuckle, his eyes rushing from your lips to your eyes repeatedly.

“You’re the first person to try and make me wear more clothes,” he joked and you rolled your eyes.

“Usually they want to undress me,” he winked, but you just stared at him, raising your eyebrows.

“It’d just be for a few pictures, babe,” you said softly, letting your lips brush against his in an attempt to convince him.

Bradley let out a breath that fanned over your skin before he pulled you closer, pulling you flush against his body, with your faces almost touching.

“Will I get a treat after?” He asked, and it was your turn to chuckle at what he was saying.

“I’ll undress as much as you want me to,” you whispered, and Bradley rushed to pull the sweater on.

tagging: @wildbornsiren @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @hederasgarden @letsfvckingdance @shadeds-library @a-reader-and-a-writer @yespolkadotkitty @whateverbagman @neptunes-curse @sweetheartlizzie07 @top-gun-rooster @iloveprettyboysblog @ateliefloresdaprimavera @imjess-themess @littlebadariell @angstyjellybean @marchingicenotes7 @midget713 @supernaturaldawning @gspenc @adorephina @gigisimsonmars @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @bespinnn @softromantist @malindacath @oliviah-25 @kwanimations @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @glowingtree @natasharomanoffisbaebby @luckyladycreator2 @blue-aconite @tipsykeen @ycarlii @teti-menchon0604 @butaneandthebeast @mavericksicybabe @kendra-rose @desert-fern @bonitanightmxres @mavrellover91 @allivingstone01 @rhettabbotts @withakindheartx @trikigirl271 @cherrycola27 @footprintsinthesxnd

(please tell me if you want to be added to the taglist, or use this link)

[mayflora-18]

I don’t know if you guys could tell from my previous likes so far, but Roach is my favorite character in Call of Duty and most certainly my comfort character.

I don’t know what I find more infuriating: that pornstache Shepherd killed him and Ghost in the original game and then proceeded to light them on fire, or that Roach has yet to make an appearance in the reboot! Grrr!!

Truth be told, the only reason - and I mean the only reason - I got into CoD was because I was scrolling through YouTube looking for nightcore cover songs to role play to and I found one with the background being Ghost when he was talking to Laswell about the missiles he and Soap found. You know, like this:

And since I have a weird fascination with skulls, I was like “hot soldier with a skull face? I must have more!!” After that I found out who he was and fell into the Ghost x Soap fanfic rabbit hole on Twitter where I proceeded to question my sexuality while I was working. I eventually came out the other end at Archive of Our Own, or AO3 for short.

I saw some mentions of a character called “Roach” and thought for some reason that I could find him on YouTube? Anyway, I made the mistake of clicking on the first video I saw, which showed Ghost and Roach getting shot by Shepherd, thrown in a ditch, and lit on fire while Price was trying to warn them over the comms. Not gonna lie, I came very close to crying. I wanted to, but I couldn’t (darn my internet-induced desensitization 😡)

So I was working on my Call of Duty OC and I thought to myself “she don’t need no man!” And then I read “Fire Meets Gasoline” by Red_Clegane on AO3 and I was like “but she’s gonna want that one!” (18+ plz don’t read if you’re a minor)

I thought that before I make something happen between these two, I should at least learn about the man first.

For a while I was kicking myself for being all “it’s not fair that he’s fictional and my boyfriend is a heckin’ saint I’M SUCH A DESPICABLE HUMAN BEING!” I quickly recovered when 1.) I found cute headcannons of roach x reader that made me almost melt and 2.) I realized that since I have made my OC’s personality so close to mine, regardless of who Roach would be with, both of us would be the Mitsuri to his Obanai. And if you don’t know who I’m talking about:

Mitsuri Kanroji ⬇️ and Obanai Iguro ⬇️ (Demon Slayer). ⬇️ ⬇️

So yeah, now I love him.

Thanks for reading guys! Have a good rest of your day!!

Edit: no pressure tag @redclegane