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joeloverture · 8 months

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morning cardio | dbf!j.m. x f!reader

masterlist | updates blog pairing: dbf!neighbor!joel miller x f!reader summary: [no outbreak] your neighbor and dad's longtime buddy catches you sneaking back home after an underwhelming hook-up. you want more — he provides. warnings: (18+ mdni) dbf!neighbor!joel, age gap (23/50), reader has a bad relationship with her father, reader's father is overly strict, reader hooks up with an oc, dirty talk, soft!dom joel, degradation, praise, thigh riding, 1 spank, titty slapping, daddy kink, exhibitionism but nobody sees, almost caught, heavy petting, misogyny for sexiness that joel doesn't actually believe in since he's a sweetheart [no use of y/n] word count: 3.7k a/n: watch me almost exclusively post dbf joel. watch me. also, mind the tags, they've changed slightly since i posted the teaser. this was supposed to be a series. this is no longer the case bc i'm indecisive. sorry.

Mistake number one: your eyes are crusted shut with the mascara you’d forgotten to wipe off.

Mistake number two: the bed you wake up in is not your own.

Mistake number three: sleeping with your neighbor.

Rubbing your mascara-sealed eyes, you blink yourself into consciousness and instantly regret it. There’s a moment of stillness, time stretching as you take in the room underneath the swelling orange sunlight. The window is cracked just enough to give you a glimpse at the world outside — birds chirping, sprinklers spritzing, cars crunching gravel as they pull out of the driveway. Surrounding the narrow, rumpled bed is a graveyard of orphaned socks. A box fan whirrs in the corner. The room had felt much cleaner past midnight when it was only the yellowed street lamp outside shining through the window. Then you spot the digital clock on the cluttered bedside table reads 6:10, ten minutes later than you’d wanted to be awake for, and time returns to its regular pace.

Your heart kicks awake in your chest, veins going cold. You kick the sheets off of your sweaty body, roll out of bed, and stumble two steps before planting your feet on the carpet below. Even that isn’t enough to stir your hookup. Dylan Andrews.

It’d seemed like a good enough idea at the time. Both of you were home for spring break. Both of you had flirted at the block party with each other. He was only decent-looking and mediocre with his hands, but you needed a break from spending another night in your childhood bedroom. What better way to do it than with a dick appointment?

Again. It’d seemed like a good enough idea at the time. Sneaking out underneath the nose of your strict, tough-as-nails dad was the easy part. Sneaking back in? Less easy. And to make matters worse, you were already ten minutes behind.

Shit.

You tiptoe across the room, naked as the day you were born, and stuff your underappreciated lingerie into your backpack. Without even putting your panties or bra on, you hop into your shorts and wrestle with your hoodie. By the time you’re out of Dylan’s room, it’s 6:12.

The difference between your dad and Dylan’s mom? She doesn’t give a shit what side of town Dylan wakes up on or how much alcohol is sloshing around in his system as long as he’s safe. You’re not the first girl to do the walk of shame out of Ms. Andrews' generic McMansion house, and you’re far from the last.

She’s downstairs in front of the coffee maker, still wearing her pajamas and doing a Dollar General crossword when you slip past her kitchen unnoticed. The door clangs shut behind you, and you figure she must see you walking down the cul-de-sac.

Your dad always leaves for work at 6:45 after a freezing cold shower and a steaming cup of black coffee for balance. You can only hope his shower ran a little late and that he isn’t at the dining room table already. Cramming two steps into one, you continue with your beeline down the awakening street.

You’re followed home by the mailboxes and flower beds, the pebbles you kick with every step. You’re almost to the property line, prepared to make a mad dash to your front door when you hear the faint call of your name. You skid to a stop, and turn to face the source: the craftsman-style house next door.

And there he is – Joel Miller, sitting on one of the cushioned chairs of his front porch in nothing but his sleep shorts and a t-shirt, legs spread as wide as the chair can accommodate. There’s a smug, knowing look on his face, one that says I’ve caught you. See how you can get out of this.

It’s been a long time since you’ve been face to face with Joel — Mr. Miller. You’d think you’d see him more often, with him being your dad’s buddy and your neighbor, but it’s been since summer. You’re sure he must be having the time of his life by joining your just got laid parade.

“You’re up awful early,” he calls, beckoning you up the driveway with a come-hither movement of his fingers. Leaving your dignity at the curb, you pad up the yard to his porch, climbing one of the stairs to lean against the gutter that feeds into his shrubbery. Pollen and moss is scattered across the wooden deck, surrounding a package that he hasn’t bothered to pick up yet. His guitar is off to the side, propped up against the doorway of the house. You wonder if he’d been playing when he’d seen you walking by.

Joel’s covered for you before, briefly and sparingly. Taken the fall for the half-empty bottle of fireball in your dresser even though he’d never go within ten feet of that shit, blamed it on himself for accidentally leaving it behind after fixing a wheel that had jumped off track for you. Even though your dad had chewed him out for drinking on the job, he’d still managed to sneak it back to you with the wise words of hiding it in a sock next time. You’d been two months past your twenty-first when that had happened, and maybe Joel had pitied you after realizing how authoritarian his friend was.

You aren’t as sure if he’ll pity you now.

“Needed some fresh air,” you defend lamely, hands hanging limp by your sides.

“Needed some cock?” he corrects, and his bluntness makes you choke. He seems relaxed for the words that just came out of his mouth, fingers drumming on his impossibly large thighs, a playful smirk resting on his lips.

You sputter, “No! Jesus, what the hell–”

“I got eyes, hun. Saw you leave that Andrews kid’s place. Clearly he didn’t stick it to ya that good if you’re still walkin’ steady,” he comments. His head tilts.

“Joel,” you hiss, eyes flitting to your dad’s house next door. He seems to read your mind, his smirk widening.

“Wonder what your pops would think. Bet I have a pretty good idea. His little angel, sneakin’ around and whorin’ herself out.” He clicks his tongue at you. “A damn shame.”

Heat spools low in your stomach and down to your unsatisfied center. You wish you’d worn darker colored shorts instead of the flimsy gray things you have on. There’s no barrier of your panties to stop yourself from leaking all over them, and with the way Joel’s looking at you, eyes dark and sly, you’re wishing there was.

“Can’t even imagine what you’re gettin’ up to at that college ‘a yours. Bet you had five guys inside of ya all at once, and I sure ain’t talkin’ about burgers, hun.” He lounges back in his chair, watching you.

You feel yourself gush. Heat burns in your thighs, and they rub together on instinct, seeking to extinguish that brimming ache between your legs. You bunch your hands in the fabric of your sweatshirt and can’t stop yourself from squirming underneath his gaze. It’s not like you’ve never thought about this, this with him of all people when you’re underneath your covers and your hand finds the warm junction between your thighs. Always unattainable. Always just out of reach.

You whisper again, “Joel,” but this time, it comes out as more of a moan. Humiliation warms your cheeks and chest, forming a different kind of pit in your stomach.

“Hmmmm?” Joel hums at you with a raised brow. He’s casual, indifferent, almost. But then his eyes flicker up and down, stopping at the wet patch smeared across the front of your shorts, the way your thighs press tight, tensing before letting go. “Ah. A little slut shamin’ gets you all riled up, hun?” That tears a whimper from you. He does that stupid come hither motion again, and like a lost dog, you listen. Standing in front of him, you feel completely, utterly exposed.

He adjusts himself in his chair, and you swallow the building lump in your throat when you see his bulge hardening. It sends another zap of heat to your core, and then another, more surprised one when his hand goes up to grab at your tit. Your breath catches as he thumbs one of your hardened nipples. A triumphant noise echoes out of him. “Braless, too?” His other hand goes down to your shorts, playing with the waistband. “Prancin’ around in these short, skimpy things, too. Practically giving the whole neighborhood a free peep show.”

His hand slides lower. Lower. Pans over to the crease of your thigh and then his thumb is planting over your clit, rubbing only once before he pulls away. “Messy pussy. Bet you stained the guys sheets.”

You’re quiet, staring at him, his wicked fucking expression, those hands that look like sin itself. You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Ah. Poor baby. All this effort and you didn’t even get to come.” He just looks at you. Unmoving. Not doing a single damn thing to get you there.

“Please, Joel,” you whisper, embarrassed by the gritty need already embedded into your voice when he’s hardly even touched you.

And he’s still wearing that wolfish look, that tainted-with-intention gleam in his eyes that tells you he knows exactly what you do want when he asks, “What? What do you want?” He licks his lips, a fleeting moment.

You look over your shoulder, at the rising street. Anyone could have their windows cracked. Anyone could hear you confess on this porch. Still, you murmur, “I… I want you to make me come, Joel.” Your voice shivers a little bit along with the stroke of wind that wisps against the backs of your thighs.

His brows raise together, now. His head tips forward. “What was that? A little louder. You know, my ears really ain’t the sharpest these days…”

Fucking bastard.

“I want,” you say again, fighting to stop your voice from wavering, to keep it not too loud but not too quiet. “you to make me come.”

Joel sucks on his teeth for a second. “Ohhh. Now I don’t think that’s really fair, hun.” He gives you a mockingly sad look.

“Why?” you ask, and you know you sound as whiny as a petulant child. But he’d been correct earlier. You put in all of this effort, sneaking out for a thrilling night that had turned into something more like two sweaty bodies moving together and only one of them feeling good from it. You want to feel good. You’re tired of looking at the right and the wrong. Joel’s sitting in front of you, his thumb still smelling like your arousal; that’s what’s right.

“You’re out here breakin’ all the rules. Shouldn’t be rewarding you for that, sweetheart. Besides, it’s a little fucked up, dontcha think? Makin’ you come all over me while your pops, my buddy, is none the wiser gettin’ ready for work next door?” His vulgarity only weakens you even more, pussy clenching and begging to be filled. You’re about to protest again when he cuts in, “But that doesn’t mean I can’t help ya out.”

Your heart pedals in your chest, eager and wanting. But Joel, instead of getting up and elbowing you inside like you expect, stays right where he is. He pats one of his splayed thighs, the grin on his face only widening. Your face contorts. Joel hears your question before you ask.

“What? Never humped someone’s leg before? With how much of a bitch in heat you’re actin’ right now, I’m surprised.” You can feel the shock on your face plain as day. Joel jerks his head down to his thigh, egging you on. “Better hurry up if you want my help, sweetheart. Pretty sure your dad’s about to get goin’, and I sure don’t have all day, either.”

The rapidly shrinking part of yourself that isn’t consumed with desire tells you to take a step back. That anyone, God forbid, even the Adlers across the street could witness this. Talk about a free peep show.

You think of the alternative: sneaking back into your house with a hope and a prayer that your dad won’t find you, backpack over your shoulder and shoes on, as you climb the stairs back to your bedroom. Open up your Joel-advised dresser drawer of things your dad says you shouldn’t have and pull out your vibrator. Do the same old hassle of a routine, desperately trying to make yourself come. Reach an unfulfilling peak.

Or… take what Joel’s offering you. Risks and all.

You take a tentative step forward, glaring at Joel when he chuckles because of your hesitance, and plop yourself down on his thigh. The pressure against your clit immediately pulls a whimper from you. His big hands fix themselves on your hips, holding tight, but not too tight as to hold you captive against him. There’s still the faint existence of the Joel you’ve always known, considerate and sweet and all southern gentleman, that exists behind the guise of his dominance.

You nestle your head into the crook of his neck, breathing heavy against him as you get a slow start to grinding your hips on his thigh. Although your movements are tentative, uncertain in nature, your head is already going fuzzy.

“Bet you’re only this wet cause that boy already put a new load in your dishwasher.” You scoff at him in disbelief — both at how much more wet it gets you, and how foul his words are. He chooses then to jerk you forward by the hips. You cry out as your pussy drags along the thick expanse of his thigh, clit catching on the bunched up fabric of your rumpled shorts.

“Zip it, you fuckin’ hussy. Ain’t a damn soul in this neighborhood that wants to wake up to you sobbin’ while gettin’ off on this thigh.” One of his hands drifts back to squeeze at the flesh of your ass. You hear the spank before you feel it, a sting that echoes and sticks right between your legs. He’s effortlessly strung a barbed wire of humiliation around your body. The lack of power makes your thighs clamp down around his, and you can’t tell if you crave more of it or despise it.

Unable to decide which, you loudly, exaggeratedly moan into his ear, still rocking down on his lap. It resounds through the neighborhood, the springboard roofs ricocheting you coquettish noises down the street and through the flowerbeds. A spooked crow lifts off of the power lines behind you, and you hear it squawk as its wings beat and carry it away.

Joel cocks his head at you, brow raised. “So it’s not just your legs that have a problem stayin’ shut. It’s your nasty mouth, too.” His hands migrate up your sides to your tits, which jostle with every flighty movement across his thigh. Before you know what he’s doing, he tweezes at your nipples in a way that makes you melt into him, forehead falling flat against his neck. And then he lands a hard smack across your chest, pleasure with a bite. Your hips jolt. “Behave for daddy before I make you walk next door draggin’ a snail trail behind ya.”

You know he doesn’t mean your real dad. A new rush of heat settles in your stomach, tightening your cunt from an ache to an insatiable thrumming that only Joel can solve. “Fuck,” you almost shout, but end up muffling into his skin with an open-mouthed kiss. He sighs, adjusting under you. The change in angle on your clit makes you whimper, especially when you feel his hardened length smushed against the outside of your thigh.

Your hand goes down to grip it, to participate in the push and pull, the cat and mouse, but he shakes his head, pulling it out of the way. He holds you by the small of your back, urging you to keep rubbing on him. “You’re lucky I’m even givin’ you my thigh,” he spits. “Ain’t gonna let you play chutes and ladders tryna make me come when I know damn well where that hand was last night.”

“Daddy,” you pout at him, lower lip jutting out.

He only shakes his head. “Don’t start.”

Whining in agitation, you manage to school yourself into behaving like he’d told you to. Every grind of your hips welcomes pleasure, beckons it, activates the porch light inside of you that invites it inside. You go limp against Joel as he guides you back and forth, and even limper when he tightens the muscle underneath your soaking core. Your hands anchor themselves on his broad shoulders, nails carving into his skin through the flimsy material of his shirt. He hisses underneath you, a break in his seemingly titanium resolve. You feel yourself getting closer, heat wreathing around your stomach, cunt clenching.

In your house, the foyer light flickers on.

Your hips stall over Joel’s as you see your dad’s backlit silhouette moving around in the foyer. Likely sliding on his shoes, patting his pockets for his wallet and his work phone…. You have two minutes at best.

Joel’s eyes follow your distracted line of vision. His amused chuckle warms the back of your neck. “Oughta hurry up if you don’t wanna get caught. Your old man would be in for a rude awakening, headin’ to work and finding his precious little girl fuckin’ my leg like a whore,” he murmurs.

He bounces his leg underneath you, and you bite back the needy cry that threatens to slip out. It feels so good, too good for you to think about anything other than the haze of arousal and pleasure that hovers over your head like a perpetual fog. You return to grinding down on him, hips pumping with a greater, renewed speed. “Attagirl,” Joel croons at you, and the hand at the small of your back presses harder, pushing you up and down his thigh.

Short, strained breaths of yours meet the morning air, eyes pinned on the rectangular window. It’s a golden-washed reminder of how wrong this is. Your dad would blow a gasket, see red, breathe fire at you if he knew exactly what was happening just a few feet away from his front yard.

But you forget all about that when Joel’s calloused fingers cup your chin, nudging you to look at him. His eyes are all pupil, darkened with something like starvation, something like want. “Don’t look at him. Look at me,” he coaxes, and he bounces his thigh again.

You’re close, you can feel it. He can feel it, too, in the way that your thighs fasten around his, your cunt rocking on him as your fervor makes the whole front porch shake and shudder. Tossing your hips back and forth, you wanted it, but now? Now you need it. Your stomach tightens, your legs shivering below you as your cunt gushes all over both of your shorts. “That’s it, baby, come on me like you were beggin’ to. ‘S alright, nice and easy for daddy, mhm?” He tenses his thigh one final time, and you lurch over that edge. “Gooood girl,” he hums as your cunt flutters against his leg. “You’re a daredevil, aren’t you?” he asks, jerking his head toward your house.

You figure you must be, after what you just did.

You’d planned on staying there, riding it out and trembling against his warm chest. But the garage cranks open. You jolt off of Joel’s lap, damn near teleporting across the porch with how fast you move. Joel smirks at you, crossing his unfucked leg over his freshly fucked one, where you’d rubbed your cum all over his skin until it’d glistened. The sight warms your stomach all over again, but it doesn’t last – nerves spasm in your ribcage as your dad ducks out into the driveway.

You fumble with your shorts, pulling them down and crossing your hands in front of the obvious stain on the gray fabric. Your dad squints across the yard, cupping a hand over his eyes. “Miller?” He calls your name shortly after, and you straighten. “You’re up early, kiddo.”

You open your mouth, on the precipice of a lie that you know won’t be good. It’ll come out unsteady, dishonest, and uneven.

Joel points at the package at the foot of his doorstep. “My toolbox got sent to yours,” he explains. “Damn postal. ‘Bout as good as the Boston Post Road these days. But your kid’s got me covered. Raised her right.”

For the second time, Joel Miller covers for you. You have no idea where this leaves you, standing under your dad’s scrutinizing gaze. With your cum cooling and sticking to your folds the same way it’s cooling and sticking to his leg, Joel knows your secret. And he’s keeping it.

Your dad only gives a shallow nod, looking between the two of you. “Well,” he hooks a hand back at his truck. “I gotta head off to work.” He shifts on his feet, this time pointing to you. “And you head back inside, kiddo. Too early for you to be up and movin’.” Of course it is.

You stare at the ground, the pollen and stray leaves below your feet. Finally, you settle on a nod. Shallow and halfhearted, much like his. Your dad, satisfied, retreats back into the garage. You hear the truck engine come to life.

“You heard the man,” Joel says. You tighten your fists, moving to step away, but the way Joel’s eyes glimmer has you loitering. He lowers his voice. “See you soon, daredevil.”

That damned nickname. “How do you know I’ll be back?” you retort under your breath.

He shrugs. “I’m sure there’ll be more… ‘packages’.”

You blame the heat in your body on the rising sun, sweat clinging to the back of your neck as you plod off through the front yard. There’s only one thought in your head as your dad pulls out and you close the garage. Mr. Miller can’t happen again.

Mistake number four: thinking you’re telling the truth.

#vetty's words 𓇢𓆸 #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller/reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic

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sassysnowperson · 1 year

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How Not to Read Terry Pratchett's Discworld Novels

With the very exciting fantasy books poll bracket going on Discworld and how to read it is in the zeitgeist again. I figured I would take a crack at adding to this important topic with a guide drawn from my own chaotic mess of a reading journey:

Learn that Terry Pratchett is a fantasy author that several people whose reading taste you admire enjoy. He apparently blends comedy, good plotting, and a world that is both grounded and satirical and you're a big fan of all those things.

Fabulous! Decide to read some of his work.

Go to your local library. Love a good library. You're new to the area, so you're also exploring the library for the first time, too.

You have found Terry Pratchett! Points to you! Pull a book off the shelf at random. It's called The Dark Side of the Sun.

Start reading. Realize that this feels more like sci-fi than fantasy. Sigh in smug superiority about people who get the two confused.

Realize about halfway through that this is not, in fact, a Discworld book.

Nobody warned you the guy wrote other things!

It's still good, tho. Maybe a little rough but this was an older book and the author clearly has potential. Let's try again.

Review his works. The vast majority are Discworld. You are highly unlikely to grab another non-Discworld book. Go back to the Terry Pratchett section of the library.

Oh hey he wrote a book with Neil Gaiman! You've hears of that guy!

Grab Good Omens off the shelf.

Take it home, realize, much sooner, that this is also not a Discworld book. Still enjoy yourself thoroughly. You should read more of this Gaiman dude, too.

But okay. For real this time. Go back to the library and don't leave without *CONFIRMING* you have a Discworld book this time.

Grab a book. Look at the cover. Read the back Discworld! Ha HA! You've done it!

It's called Thud.

You are utterly gripped by a story of a man wrestling with himself, his growing child, the political tensions of a city and extremism that echoes reality beautifully while still being entirely true to itself. It's a story of responsibility and love and building communities and Fantasy Chess. You are driven nearly to tears by the sentence *WHERE IS MY COW?*

You emerge from the book fundamentally changed as a person, and finally understanding what all the fuss is about. You are now a Terry Pratchett reader for life.

You realize Thud was in the middle of a series. That was a part of another series. That explains why there was a feeling that you were supposed to know some of these people already.

You finally find one of those flowcharts and figure out a more sensible reading order.

I always sort of laugh when people ask where to start reading Discworld, because Thud would be first on absolutely nobody's sensible Terry Pratchett reading order. I'm still tempted to recommend it though!

(My actual advice: Going Postal if you love con men being stuck doing the right thing, Wee Free Men if you like YA and smart angry girls owning their own power, Guards! Guards! *and* Men at Arms if you like crime shows with heart and are okay giving earlier work a try (the quality gets better and better, but I think it needs at least two books to get you into it), and Monstrous Regiment if you like gender and queer feelings, anti-war books told in the middle of a war, and/or would prefer a stand alone novel...and, you know, Thud if you want a great read and don't mind some chaos.)

#terry Pratchett #discworld #the worst reading order #gnu terry Pratchett

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wileys-russo · 3 months

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You know that's meant for our child , not you... Mary Earps... At home maybe??

part of the a date to remember series m.earps II dancing queen

"mummy!" you looked up from your computer with raised eyebrows, spinning around in your chair as delilahs feet came thundering into the room. "hey hey, what's wrong?" you frowned seeing the pout present on her face as she climbed up and into your lap.

"mama doesn't know how to share." came the annoyed grumble from the five year old as you squeezed her tightly, a small smile on your lips as she pressed her face against your chest.

"what happened?" you asked gently, scratching her back and feeling her go limp but not without a huff. "she's hogging all my toys, won't give me a turn." delilah grunted, tugging at a loose thread on your hoodie.

"is she? well thats not very nice of her is it." you chuckled, pulling her hand away and lowering her to the ground. "come on tiny, lets go sort your mama out." you offered her your hand which she took, the pair of you leaving the office.

and sure enough as you entered the living room your wife was sat dead centre on the carpet, several of your daughters toys piled around her as she furiously wrestled with one of them making you roll your eyes.

"see!" delilah tugged on your hand and scowled, looking much more adorable than aggressive. "mary!" you called out, ignored. "mary?" you tried again, same lack of response. "now her ears are broken too!" delilah huffed dropping your hand and crossing her arms.

"mary alexandra earps." your tone shifted, arms crossed mirroring your daughter as finally your wife looked up. "two seconds." she held up a finger as her eyes dropped back down to the bop it in her hands.

"see!" delilah repeated, tugging on your shirt as you nodded. "go play in your room for a sec please lilah." you sent her off as the year old sent your wife a mean glare but ran off none the less, footsteps pattering away.

mary once more ignoring you as you called for her attention your patience wore thin as you closed the gap between the two of you, snatching the game out of her hand as she looked up with a frown.

"what? babe i'm-" but the glare you fixed her with had her silenced. "you know thats meant for our child, not you. all of these are actually!" you warned, gesturing to the assortment of toys and games around her.

"okay yes. but hear me out!" mary bargained holding her hands up in defense as you rolled your eyes but gestured for her to continue. "did you know alessia has the high scores locked on all of these? alessia!" mary scoffed in disbelief scrunching her face up.

"and?" you sighed, unfazed by this new information. "and? we can't have her as the high scorer on delilahs games! i'm doing this for her darling." mary tried to smile charmingly as you hummed, still unfazed by her excuses.

"oh you are, are you?" you pouted mockingly. "then why did our daughter come to me upset that 'mama doesn't know how to share' hm?" you accused, hand on hip and cocking it out to the side with a raised eyebrow.

"i know how to share! it just...wasn't her turn yet." mary tried to excuse as you shook your head at her. "mary, they're her toys and her games. she doesn't need to wait her turn!" you warned as your wife groaned.

"but less-" "but nothing! go and apologize to delilah right now, and you might want to get ready to grovel because thanks to your part of the gene pool she is incredibly stubborn." you pointed behind you as mary huffed but got up to her feet.

"i love you?" she smiled charmingly, hovering in front of you as you only hummed, the taller girl huffing and accepting that was all she was going to get as she wandered off to go find delilah.

"oh and baby? those aren't less's high scores on her games, they're mine."

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #mary earps x reader #mary earps #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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imthebadguyyy · 4 months

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so high school

pairing : bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader

fandom : top gun

synopsis : being in love makes you feel oh so high school!!

series : the tortured poets department

warnings : smut

a/n : loved loved loved writing this!! happy reader

you couldn't quite tell what it was about bradley 'rooster' bradshaw that had you hooked. but something just did. the world of naval aviators was close knit, and you had been friends with phoenix and fanboy for as long as you could remember, even graduating top gun together.

it wasn't until many years later that you received a letter, asking you to go to fightertown san diego for a special mission. thats it. thats all they told you.

so before you knew it, you were cruising down the coast in your bike, hair whipping in the breeze, trying to find the bar phoenix had told you she would be at. you spotted it soon enough, glimmering brightly near the shining sea, and you parked and made your way inside.

it was packed full of other aviators, you spotted phoenix, hangman, coyote, payback and fanboy playing a game of pool and making snarky remarks at each other.

"cherry!" a cheery voice called you, and you offered your best friend your sweetest smile. "hi phoenix! i missed you" you laughed, pulling her into a hug, that she reciprocated, kissing your temple affectionately.

"cherry!" fanboy said, wrestling you into a tight hug to rub your head affectionately as you pretended to be annoyed, swatting at his arm.

"didn't know you were here too hon" phoenix said, offering you a bottle of beer.

"yep, got the call to ride at dawn" you said dramatically, sinking into a chair, shaking your jacket off your shoulders, draping the black leather jacket over the back of the chair.

"well if they're calling in the big guns guess the mission must be important" pheonix teased, affectionately rubbing your shoulder again.

"cherry, meet bob, phoenix's new backseater from leemore" payback said, gesturing to a quiet man with glasses who was eating peanuts in the corner. "hello, I'm bob" he said, smiling at you and shaking your hand. "I'm y/n, cherry" you smiled.

just as you were about turn to greet coyote, the door opened and a man clad in a hawaiian shirt walked in, aviators hiding his eyes, with a slight swagger to his walk as he walked in, sliding his glasses slightly lower down his nose as he greeted phoenix . he had the most perfect looking moustache you had ever seen, and for a split second you wondered how it would feel brushed up against every part of you.

you bit back a giggle as phoenix hit him in the stomach with her pool stick, that instantly had his eyes snapping to your face.

bradley didn't know what hit him as he looked at your face. well, apart from phoenix's poolstick. he felt like all the wind has been sucked from his lungs as he looked at you, drinking in your pretty eyes and curved lips, plush and full, seeing the way your hand was wrapped around a cold bottle of beer. he felt his heartbeat speed up so fast he had to steady himself on his unsteady feet. you looked ethereal.

"and who are you?" he asked, taking his aviators off to tuck them into his pocket as he leaned against nat's shoulder, offering you a smile that had your heart beating way faster than it should have.

"y/n, cherry" you smiled, extending your hand for a handshake. bradley grabbed your hand, pressing a delicate kiss to the back of it that had a warm flushed heat creeping up to your cheek.

"I'm rooster, bradley" he said, sinking into a chair next to yours.

"nice to meet you" you smiled at him, draining the last of your beer. "can I get you another?" he said, already getting ready to stand. "thats okay rooster, I'll go get one myself" you hurried to get up as well, but he just took you by the elbow, leading you to the bar. "please let me. what sort of a gentleman would i be if I didn't buy a pretty girl a drink?" he smirked mischievously and you forced down a smile, hiding it with an eye roll.

"please, nat talks about you and I know for a fact how much of a ladykiller you are" you said, smiling at the woman behind the bar who introduced herself as penny. "put it on my tab, penny my dear!" rooster called and earned a smile from the woman.

"damn, phoenix is destroying my shot before I even had a chance huh? he sighed, only a little resigned. "but I promise, I'm not like that anymore, I'm older and wiser now" he said, looking at you hesitantly. you couldn't help but laugh, seeing the sincerity in his eyes.

"I'm just messing with you" you giggled, accepting the cold beer gratefully and clinking your bottle with his.

you found yourself lost in conversation with him, laughing and chattering like long lost friends. you told him all about knowing nat and fanboy, about your hobbies, what got you into aviation. he spoke about his love for music, his love for aviators, and surprisingly, about his dad.

he watched the way your eyes softened, not in the way that people did with pity, but with understanding. and you reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze. "I'm sorry that happened to you bradley" you said, voice as delicate as a feather. "thank you" he said, stroking a hand over your thumb.

"hey,wanna see something cool?" he asked, already leading you over to the piano. "you gonna play a song bradshaw?" you laughed, choosing to lean against the piano as he settled into the seat. you recognised the opening notes of great balls of fire.

bradley's voice was as warm as whiskey, rough around the edges and ragged in a way that took your breath away and made a little something spark in between your thighs.

"kiss me baby!" he sang, throwing you a cheeky wink that had phoenix nudging your side. "that feels good, baby" he smirked, letting his tongue wet his lips as he watched your body twitch a little.

"I'm off to love you like a lover should" he crooned, fingers dancing across the ivory keys as you hummed along.

after he finished, you watched him get swarmed with people, and whooping and cheering for him, before the chants of "rooster! rooster! rooster! rooster!" filled the room and you clapped along before slinking back to the bar.

"hey whered you go?" bradley's warm voice made his way over to you. "just wanted a moment and another beer" you said and he grinned, already passing you a cold one again, letting his fingers brush yours again.

"cmon, let's go on a drive" he said, gently tugging your hand and paying his bill quickly. "thanks for that, by the way" you said, beaming up at him gratefully. "anytime pretty girl" he said, leading you put to where a beautiful Bronco was parked.

"thats a beautiful car" you said, stopping to admire it. "whose is it?" you continued, staring curiously. "it's mine" he said proudly, grinning when you gasped. "it's so pretty!"

"thank you, it's my baby" he said, and you felt your heart flutter. "come, let me show you the sights" he said, getting your car door for you in a way that had you feeling a little ooey gooey on the inside and had you thinking "isn't that sweet?"

and as you drive off into the night, the moon illuminating the sea, you felt oh so high school.

the hard deck was buzzing with energy, music playing in the background as the squad enjoyed a rare night off. you, bradley and the rest of the team were gathered around a large table, laughter and banter filling the air.

"hey, cherry, can you grab me another beer?" bradley asked with a playful grin, his eyes twinkling.

"only if you say please," you teased back, giving him a mock-serious look.

"please," he replied, drawing out the word and giving you an exaggerated puppy-dog look that made you laugh.

as you headed to the bar, nat nudged you with her elbow. "you know, Cherry, you’re not fooling anyone, especially me" she smirked.

you raised an eyebrow, pretending not to understand. "what do you mean?"

phoenix gave you a knowing smile. "come on, it's so obvious you have a crush on Rooster. the way you two flirt, it's like watching a rom-com. and as your best friend, you know I can read you like an open book" she said, leaning across the bar to grab your three beers.

your cheeks flushed a little, but you couldn’t help but smile. "Is it that obvious?"

"To everyone but you two, apparently," phoenix said, chuckling. "just go for it. You two are great together."

meanwhile, back at the table, the boys were giving rooster a similar hard time.

"rooster, man, you are so into cherry," jake "said, shaking his head. "the way you look at her, it's like you're in the notebook or something."

"yeah, dude," bob added. "It's written all over your face. you look like a little kitten with a ball of wool" he said and analogy made the other pilots roar with laughter.

rooster tried to play it cool, but he couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. "what can I say? she's special."

as you returned to the table with the beers, you noticed the boys smirking at rooster, who was giving them a playful glare. you handed bradley his beer, your fingers brushing briefly, sending a small thrill through you.

"thanks, cherry," he said, his voice softening a bit, reaching up to pinch your cheek playfully.

"anytime," you replied, your heart fluttering.

phoenix gave you a knowing look, and you felt a rush of warmth. surrounded by friends and filled with a sense of joy and possibility, you knew this was just the beginning of something truly special between you and bradley.

and that feeling made you feel like a high schooler, feeling oh so high school.

training and day to day encounters with bradley became the norm, and he found himself actively seeking you out more and more.

"hey cherry" his voice rang sweetly in your ears as he plonked himself down next to you. "hey rooster" you greeted back, settling comfortably into the chair, waiting for maverick to come and start the training session.

"looks like we're paired up for today's exercise" he said, trying to dim the bright grin that graced his face, drinking in the amused look in yours.

"sure looks like it" you grinned back, laughing when he pumped his fists in the air. "excited much?" you joked, leaning slightly into his shoulder. "oh, very. it's not often i get to fly with a wingwoman as beautiful as you, pretty girl" he cooed, fingers dancing across the loose strand of hair that had fallen out of your bun and tucking it back in.

you felt your breath hitch and your heart speed up like a train, feeling the warmth radiating from his body as he leaned in slightly closer, eyes trained on yours, gleaming in the sunshine. you leaned in as well, torso moving forward as your eyes fluttered ever so slightly. bradley felt his heart hammering, palms sweating slightly as he repeated a mantra of "holy shit this is actually happening" repeatedly in his head.

just as your noses brushed, a sharp voice cut the tension in the room, and you jumped back as if you had been scalded. you felt your body heat up as the grinning faces of hangman and coyote and maverick came into view, making you shoot away from bradley to keep a respectable distance between you two.

"well, well, what do we have here?" hangman’s teasing drawl filled the space, a smirk playing on his lips. phoenix elbowed him in the ribs, rolling her eyes at his lack of tact. "damnit bagman, couldn't you have waited for a second?" nat's voice reached your ears and you tried your hardest not to simply evaporate on the spot.

maverick raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "did we interrupt something?"

coyote chuckled, shaking his head. "looks like we did."

bradley's hand remains on your shoulder, a reassuring touch. you couldn't help but feel a mix of embarrassment and amusement at the situation.

"har har guys, why don't you move it along now cmon" rooster said, dramatically gesturing to the door.

a chorus of laughs and giggles embraced you, with natasha stopping to stoop by your ear and say "never seen you look so captivated cherry" and giving you a playful wink which you returned.

"well...where were we?" bradley said, after ensuring the squad had truly left. "i believe you were about to kiss me?" you said in a hushed whisper, reaching for the zipper of his flight suit, standing up to pull him flush against you.

you let your body sink against the tiny podium mav used to give his motivational speeches, letting bradley's weight sag into you as he leaned closer, and closer and closer...

right until his breath was warm on your face, searching your eyes for the same desperate adoration he felt and he saw it there in full reciprocity.

"god, will you kiss me already?" you whined, tugging him forward by the collar.

bradley turned to you, his eyes filled with a mix of determination and vulnerability. he took a step closer, his gaze locking onto yours. "I've been wanting to tell you something," he said softly, his voice steady despite the emotion behind it.

your heart raced as you nodded, body high on the palpable tension, waiting for him to continue. "ive felt this way for a while now," he confessed, taking your hand in his. "and I can't keep pretending it's not there." he continued, breath in ragged gasps as he inched so much more impossibly closer to you.

before you could respond, he gently cupped your face with one hand, his thumb brushing over the swell of your cheek. the world seemed to slow down as he leaned in, his eyes never leaving yours. you closed the distance, your lips meeting in a soft, tentative kiss, charged with sweet emotion.

the first touch sent a shiver down your spine. it was sweet and slow, as delicate as spun sugar, both of you savoring the moment you had been waiting for. bradley's other hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, the other still grasping your cheek.

his lips were warm and inviting, and you lost yourself in the sensation, your arms winding around his neck. his mustache, his oh so perfect mustache brushed against your top lip, in a messy kiss that felt so good you couldn't breathe. his hand crawled up your back to rest in your hair, cradling your head in his hand while yours continued to grip his collar and his chest tightly, tongues now clashing as the kiss grew more heated.

just as bradley let his hand down to squeeze the flesh of your ass, the sound of footsteps and a horrified "oh!" had bradley breaking apart from you, eyes never leaving your heaving form as he glanced over his shoulder to see an extremely flustered bob.

"oh shit rooster, I'm sorry i-" he began, stammering and stuttering as his glasses began to slip down his nose from the nervous perspiration gathering on his nose.

"bob, just leave" he murmured, going back to your lips as he let his mustache brush your lip in a way that had you giggling.

"right! right! I'll leave god rooster I'm sorry-" he continued rooted to the spot, eyes widening at the way bradley's lips trailed to your neck.

"bob?" you called sweetly, ignoring the way rooster smirked against your neck. "yes cherry?" he said, still stuttering.

"as much as I like you, please fuck off and let me makeout with rooster in peace" you said firmly, and he was scurrying out like a mouse.

bradley laughed against the skin of your neck, pressing one last smacking kiss to the juncture between your shoulder and neck, before leaning up to peck your nose.

"darling, let me take you to dinner" he begged, grasping your hand in his own palm.

"when?" you asked, still heaving to take deep breaths of air. "now. today. an hour, god, I'll just go shower and change and I'll come and pick you up and we can go now, today, now" he said, punctuating each word with a soft kiss to your lips.

"okay" you breathed, slowly backing away to just admire the man before you. "pick me up at 7 then" you said, pushing him away with a smirk, before walking towards the door, hips swaying purposefully. "and maybe tonight, you'll get to kiss more of me" you winked, and made your way out.

rooster sunk back into a chair with a groan.

god, you made him feel like a lovestruck teenager, giving him butterflies

it all felt oh so high school to him.

bradley bradshaw had planned the perfect first date, and as the sun began its descent, casting a warm glow over Fightertown, you found yourself eagerly anticipating the evening ahead. he had picked you up right on time, his charming smile and easy confidence immediately putting you at ease.

he drove you to a secluded stretch of beach, the sound of the waves creating a serene backdrop as he unloaded a large picnic basket from the trunk. "i thought we'd do something a little different," he said, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "a beach picnic seemed like the perfect idea. you mentioned you've never had one before" he said, a note of shyness in his gaze.

"i love it," you replied, genuinely touched by the thoughtfulness of the gesture.

he spread out a blanket on the soft sand, arranging the picnic essentials with meticulous care. as you sat down, you couldn't help but admire the beautiful scenery—the ocean stretching out endlessly, the sky painted with hues of orange and pink.

bradley handed you a glass of sparkling champagne and raised his own in a toast. "to new beginnings," he said, his gaze meeting yours with a sincerity that made your heart skip a beat.

"to new beginnings," you echoed, clinking your glass against his.

the evening unfolded with an easy, natural flow. bradley had packed an impressive spread: fresh fruit, gourmet sandwiches, cheese, and even a couple of your favorite snacks, and to your mirth, a whole container of cherry candy. you both talked and laughed, sharing stories and learning more about each other.

at one point, he playfully fed you a strawberry, and you couldn't help but laugh at his antics. "you're really going all out, huh?" you teased.

"only the best for you," he replied with a wink, his tone light but his expression serious.

as the sun dipped below the horizon, the sky turned a deep, velvety blue, and bradley lit a few candles, their gentle flicker adding to the romantic ambiance. you found yourself inching closer to him, the warmth of his presence and the sound of his voice creating a bubble of intimacy that felt both exhilarating and comforting.

he glanced at you, his eyes soft and filled with an emotion that made your breath catch. "you know, I've wanted to do this for a long time," he admitted, his voice low and earnest.

"really?" you asked, feeling a flutter of excitement.

"yeah," he said, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. "there's something about you, cherry. from the moment we met, I knew you were special."

your heart swelled with happiness as you looked into his eyes. "i feel the same way, bradley."

he smiled, a slow, genuine smile that lit up his face. "im glad," he said softly.

as the night continued, you sat together, sharing quiet moments and watching the stars appear one by one in the sky. It was the perfect first date, a beautiful beginning to what you both hoped would be a wonderful journey together.

bradley couldn't remember the last time anyone had left him so simply awe struck and feeling like a teenager in love the way that you had. he knew the moment he set eyes on you in the hard deck that you had stolen his heart in every sense of the phrase.

so flash forward to three months after your first date and there you were, pressed up against his body, leaning into his warmth with one of your ankles looped around his own, both your feet propped up on bradley's coffee table. his house had practically become yours, you spent more time there than at your own pathetic little rented apartment.

bradley inhaled the scent of your perfume, bergamot and oak, vanilla and of course cherry. he didn't know how much he loved the scent of cherry till you came into his life like a cherry scented whirlwind.

it was a Saturday night and that meant neither of you had to go into work the next day. he had asked you to come over to his place after a few drinks at the hard deck. he had cracked open a nice bottle of red wine and had ordered in some of the burritos you loved so much, topped of with that spicy salsa you loved.

a bowl of nachos sat between the two of you, and the burritos waited on the table for you two to stop gazing lovingly into each other's eyes.

the classic 'american pie' was playing softly in the background, but neither of you could really pay attention. your fingers traced over his muscled thighs, absent mindedly tracing your initials on the exposed skin, his denim shorts giving you more than enough room to gently trace the skin.

his arm was around your shoulders, gently tracing mindless circles on the exposed skin of your shoulder, and occasionally dropping kisses to the skin as well, letting his tongue dart out to earn a giggle from your pretty lips.

"ya having fun pretty girl?" he asked, brushing a loose strand of his hair back. "mmhmm" you nodded burrowing into his chest in a way that had his heart singing.

"i love how stupidly interesting this movie is" he confessed, and you laughed, affectionately kissing his nose. "i do too, it's the perfect movie to unwind to" you agreed, settling into his chest again as you took a sip of the cabernet he had poured you.

he adored these little moments with you. how he would love to have them with you every damn day. he wanted you to just be with him for ever and ever.

of course, the both of you had forgotten about the iconic scene in which vicky finally...achieved new highs. bradley's eyes went wide as he choked on his wine, watching as the explicit scene played out on tv, feeling your body tense beside him and your breathing quicken as she reached her peak on screen.

he felt red hot arousal course through his body, and the fact that your perfectly plush body was resting against him in a way that was just right was not helping him. his pants were becoming uncomfortably tight around his groin.

he heard you gulp beside him, eyes blown a little wide as your eyes shifted to his face, flushing a little when you saw he was already looking at you.

"sweetheart i hope that doesn't make you uncomfortable?" he asked, stroking your cheek in concern. he missed the way your thighs pressed together, but he did hear the whimper that left your lips.

"oh darling..." he cooed, thumb stroking your cheekbone. "you want me to do that to you pretty girl? want me to eat your pretty pussy?" he asked, smirking when you whimpered again softly, turning so you were both face to face.

"answer me darling " he said, moving the glasses away to pull you flush into his lap. you tried to stifle your sigh of pleasure when his large hands grabbed your hips, settling you snug against him.

"please?" you asked, hands trailing down his muscled chest. "please what, pretty girl?" he asked, hands reaching to the back of your shirt. "please can you eat me out, lieutenant bradshaw?" you cooed, feeling confident as you rolled your hips on his.

"fuck baby girl" he grunted, making quick work of undoing your bra and flinging it off off you, hands going slowly up and down your sides. "I'd love that" he groaned, slowly setting you down flat on the couch and resting one knee between your legs. he dragged your top off, and you hissed when the cold air graced your nipples, hardening them to peaks.

his eager tongue descended upon them, flat of it pressing against the sensitive buds and sucking them between his lips to flick at them in a way that had you gasping and gripping his luscious hair in your hands, chest arching high.

he bucked up into you then, hands holding your hips still as he stiffens against you. "you’re fucking sexy, ya know that?" he said "so. fucking. sexy." he punctuated each word with a flick of his tongue, teeth grazing the nipple and sucking it, letting his saliva coat it before pulling it, making you hiss in pleasure.

although it took him seconds, it felt like an eternity, as bradley travelled down the valley of your breasts, down to your stomach where he stopped, and licked slow circles around your belly button until you shuddered almost continually. his tongue dipped into your belly button and your foot jerks. his mouth travelled lower.

he took a minute to settle down, settling down to his knees in front of the couch, to become eye-level with your clothed cunt, while maintaining a cozy sort of closeness. once again, he gently stroked the waistband of your panties, and, with expert hands, eyed the pale blush pink colour of your underwear.

"i don't know if i tell you often", he moaned into your thigh with squinted eyes. "but you’re the prettiest fucking person ive ever seen" he said, biting the flesh of your hip. "prettiest fucking thing ive ever seen" he repeated, and your heart began to thud at an irregular pace against your chest as you watched the special show.

"tell me you want me baby" he asked, stopping his movements and panting on his knees. he looked like such a fucking angelic mess in that moment, voice raspy, chest heaving and hands gripping the flesh of your hips.

"i need to hear you tell me you want me and need me" he begged, slowly drawing your knees apart.

"please roos, i need you so bad! i want you!" you acquiesced, desperately reaching for his hand, which he immediately linked with your own.

"now, i have only one rule" he murmured pressing another kiss into your skin, this time even lower. he tilted your hips up just a bit higher, so they’re level with his nose; eyes just barely peeking over your mound. he inhaled sharply.

"you have to be as loud as you can or i stop. just please, fuck, please don’t hold back on me" he whispered, stroking your knuckles on the hand in which your fingers were entwined, his cheeks pink in the sparkling lights.

and with your nod, he’s dove in. you felt his tongue slip out, softly licking at your already swollen clit, and you realized this feeling was unlike anything. it was heaven and it's hell, it was sanity and insanity, and you loved it. your chest dipped hard with every aggressive rise, and the more it obscured your view of rooster, the more you adjusted yourself so that way it doesn’t. you wanted to see him.

his mouth wrapped around your clit and he gently sucked at it, his chin grazing your hole as his tongue explored the unfamiliar territory. he moaned out loud in surprise of how fucking sweet and tart you tasted.

"fuck sweet girl, you taste like cherry candy" he grunted, his own hips grinding against the coarse material of the couch.

he continued with his ministrations, pulling soft moans out of you. it was a melody, a harmony. a symphony of low groans and raw moans and desperate whines leaving your lips. each and every noise; every perfectly composed addition giving way to how your pleasure builds. "fu—oh, my god, roos!" you managed to gasp out, remembering his rule, head pressing against fluffy yellow cushion he had given you.

he’d barely touched you. hadn’t even quite moved on from your clit, and yet? you were a fucking mess. your breathing, uneven, your heart erratic. it was a dizzying experience everytime he sucked on your clit.

he alternated, tightening the control on his lips or flattening his tongue, lifting your legs to rest them on his shoulders.

your legs felt heavy against his shoulders, knees buckling from the pleasure. the noises that came from him are pornographic, to say the least. obscene and dirty, muffled by your puffy lips. it was wet, and it sounded like heaven.

"you’re doing great, pretty girl. so fucking good" he growled into your pussy, lapping at your juices.

then suddenly he was mouthing at your cunt, tongue dipping into your aching hole with fervour, trying to learn what made you feel good, what made you jerk, what made you tick. about your reactions. about your ethereal sounds. as much as his brain could take. he made you absolutely melt into putty with his experienced touch.

an unexpected high-pitched moan escaped your swollen mouth, and your breath caught in your throat. "holy shit! rooster! bradley! ah—fuck, just, you’re…right there" your hands clutched the leather between your fingers, and you were pretty sure you had ripped a hole in the velveteen couch.

a familiar warmth was beginning to pool in your tummy, fingers running through his hair in response, scratching at his scalp and pulling his hair roughly.

the veins in his arms began to strain and protrude and you almost came right there on the spot. you yanked on his hair again, and with a loud groan he jerked up into you. a dangerous glint gleaming in his eyes as he shot up to meet yours and he lifted himself off of you. "you’re playing a dangerous game, darling" he whispered, fingers trailing down your thighs.

his tongue swirled along your ribs, the place where you’re most ticklish, and it revealed his new favourite sound in the world - your laugh. over the curve of your breast, covered with hickeys and bites, and then finally right above your heart. where he lived, where he loved and could be loved. his home.

he snuck back down, fingers slipping into you, pressing against your g spot before his tongue began to suck harshly on your clit.

the familiar band of pleasure began to build in your belly and you whined in desperate pleasure. his tongue began to suck on the little pearl harder, and soon you were thrashing above him as the band snapped and you came all over his pretty face.

"thats it darling, nice and slow, come for me" he murmured, licking you through your orgasm. "mm-ah! roos!" you groaned as the sensitivity grew between your legs.

bradley stood up panting, moustache gleaming with your sparkling juices, and his tongue picked out to lick it away, the sight so obscenely perfect.

"you're my new favourite thing to eat in the world, sweet girl" he cooed, pressing his lips to yours in a delicate kiss.

gasping and panting, you kissed his back, gently stroking his hair. "thank you, that was amazing" you breathed, giggling when he sunk into you and the both of you descended into the plush couch.

"don't thank me baby girl, it's a pleasure to give my girl the best head of her life" he said, cracking a grin when you hid your face in his chest.

"god I adore you. i love you" he said, breathing the scent of your perfume again. "I love you too baby" you whispered, kissing his nose.

"c'mon, let's get up and cuddle now" he said, scooping you up and throwing you over his shoulder. you squealed in laughter as he tickled your side, hanging over his shoulder, playfully swatting his butt as he made his way up the stairs.

this was the kind of romance you'd only read bout in high school.

the hard deck was alive with its usual blend of laughter and lively conversation as you and the squad gathered for another fun night out. the air was filled with the familiar buzz of camaraderie, and everyone was in high spirits. but tonight, there was a special gleam in bradley's eyes that you couldn't quite place.

as the evening progressed, he excused himself and made his way to the old upright piano in the corner of the bar. you watched curiously as he sat down, his fingers lightly grazing the keys, testing the feel of the instrument. the room began to quiet down as people noticed him at the piano, a sense of anticipation building.

he looked up and caught your eye, his expression softening. "this one's for you, cherry," he said, his voice carrying across the room. a few murmurs of surprise and interest rippled through the crowd as he began to play a slow, romantic tune.

the familiar notes of heaven by Bryan Adams began to play.

as the melody filled the bar, you felt a warm blush spread across your cheeks. bradley's playing was beautiful, each note filled with emotion. his eyes never left yours, and it felt like the rest of the room faded away, leaving just the two of you connected by the music.

when he began to sing, his voice was smooth and heartfelt, the lyrics speaking of love and longing. it was clear to everyone that this was a song from the depths of his heart, and the dedication to you made it all the more special.

"and baby, you're all that I want,

when you're lying here in my arms,

im finding it hard to believe,

we're in heaven,

and love is all that i need,

and I found it there in your heart" he crooned softly to you and you felt an overwhelming love settle in your heart for the man at the piano.

the squad couldn't resist teasing. jake leaned over to phoenix and bob, a playful grin on his face. "hearts are breaking in the world tonight," he quipped, eliciting a round of chuckles from the group.

"yeah, looks like rooster's got it bad," phoenix added, giving you a wink.

bob nodded in agreement, smiling warmly. "It's like a scene out of a high school movie."

despite the teasing, there was an underlying sense of genuine happiness from everyone, seeing how much bradley cared for you.

as the song drew to a close, bradley's final notes lingered in the air, and the room erupted into applause. he stood up and walked back to you, his gaze never wavering.

you met him halfway, feeling a rush of emotions. "that was beautiful, baby" you said, your voice soft with gratitude and affection.

he smiled, his eyes shining with sincerity. "I'm glad you liked it, cherry. It was all for you."

as the squad continued to tease and make light-hearted comments, you and bradley shared a look that said it all. in that moment, surrounded by friends and wrapped in the warmth of his music, you both felt like high schoolers in love, caught up in the sweet, innocent magic of the night.

rooster had invited the entire squad over to his place for beers n barbecue, but it was just an excuse to play grand theft auto with the boys. nat and you had just rolled your eyes and decided to play monopoly.

rooster kept glancing over his shoulder towards the two of you, smiling when he saw you laugh, throwing your head back and exposing the skin of your neck to him. he inhaled deeply when you bit your lip, teeth sinking into the flesh in concentration.

he groaned as hangman shoved him in the shoulder to make him lose in the game, and he stood up to head to the kitchen.

"baby you want a beer? nat, what about you?" he asked, walking over to you to drop a kiss to your shoulder.

"please" nat groaned, looking up from the board. "cherry's been kicking my ass at this stupid game for an hour" she said, making you laugh as you picked up the bowl of nachos you had been sharing to refill it.

"I'll be right back babe" you said, taking your empty beer bottles and following rooster to the kitchen.

"you having fun?" he asked, dragging you to him by your belt loops and dropping a kiss to your forehead. "i am! i missed spending time with nix" you said, kissing his cheeks and walking over to check the apple pie you had put in the oven.

rooster bit back a groan as you bent at the waist to check it, and before you knew it he was pulling you in, pressing your front against the counter. his fingers slid to the front of your jeans, slowly zipping them down.

"bradley! what in the world are you doing!" you hissed, hands settling on top of his own. "our friends are literally right there playing GTA!" you exclaimed, gasping when his finger slipped into the band of your cotton panties.

he dipped his finger to your clit, smirking when he felt the wetness on your clit. his fingers began to rub deft circles and your knees buckled, a soft whimper leaving your lips when his lips dropped to your ear to nibble on the shell.

"my my, you're a dirty little girl aren't you? getting fingered in the kitchen while our friends are in the next room?" he purred and your head dropped into his shoulder.

"fuck baby.." you moaned, and he sucked a hickey into your neck.

"god i love seeing you like this" he groaned, fingers speeding up against your clit, thumb settling on it, slipping one finger in at a time, pressing against your spongy walls, taking in the symphony of your moans.

"fuck I'm so close" you whined, pressing harder against his fingers. "cum for me darling, cum all over my fingers" he said and you came undone with a shudering gasp, chest heaving.

"hey cherry I'd like my beer cold please!" pheonix's voice cut the air and you almost jumped out of your skin.

rooster laughed as you heated up against him, pulling the zipper of your jeans back up before leaning back against the counter to lick his fingers, that had you playfully glaring at him.

"hey, bradshaw! you just died in the game man!" hangman's smug voice cut in, and the both of you laughed and pulled away.

"I'll see you again later honey" you said, kissing his cheeks. "love you" he said, nuzzling into your cheek.

"Jesus, get a room!" payback exclaimed as he stepped into the kitchen, looking for more popcorn.

"let them be! they're so cute together!" phoenix said, walking in, with her arms crossed. "cherry, babe. it's been fifteen minutes. are you brewing the beer from scratch?" she joked, walking over to the fridge to pick up the beer herself.

"sorry, she got distracted" rooster grinned and you nudged him in the side. natasha grimaced and payback pretended to gag.

"you're like two horny teenagers" fanboy commented as he walked in too.

"what can I say?" rooster shrugged. "she makes me feel oh so high school" he smiled.

you sighed dreamily, watching bradley's pretty shirt flutter in the sea breeze. he had taken you out to a cute restaurant on the beach, which had outdoor seating and was decorated in quiet finesse.

the ocean's edge had been a charming and elegant beachside restaurant known for its stunning panoramic views of the sea. as the sun had set, casting a golden glow over the water.

the sound of waves gently lapping against the shore had provided a soothing backdrop to the evening, along with the rhythmic hum of the Bryan Adams song playing in the restaurant.

soft candlelight had flickered on your table, illuminating the beautifully set plates and the fresh, exquisite dishes prepared with locally sourced ingredients. the ambiance had been both romantic and serene, perfect for an intimate dinner with rooster, where every detail had been crafted to enhance the dining experience by the sea.

the candlelight danced in his eyes, which were filled with warmth and a hint of mischief. you both leaned in close, sharing quiet laughter and soft, playful touches. your conversation flowed effortlessly, akin to two teenagers in love, filled with lighthearted teasing and genuine curiosity about each other's lives.

rooster's hand occasionally brushed against yours, sending a pleasant shiver up your spine. you found yourselves lost in his eyes, which reflected your own dreams for the future. there was an innocence and purity to your interaction, each smile and glance brimming with affection. the way he looked at you, with unguarded admiration, made you feel like the most important person in the world.

bradley leaned in a little closer, his expression turning slightly more serious but still filled with warmth. "you know," he said his voice soft and earnest, "i've been thinking a lot lately."

"oh? about what?" you asked, a hint of curiosity and amusement in your voice.

"about us," he said, his eyes locking onto yours. "about how much I love spending time with you, how much you mean to me."

your heart skipped a beat, and you felt a warm flush spread through you. "i feel the same way, bradley."

he took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "I've been thinking... I don't want us to just have these moments in between missions and busy schedules. I want more of this. More of you."

you felt a flutter of excitement and anticipation. "what are you trying to say?" you asked, excitement and anticipation bubbling in your chest.

he reached across the table, taking your hand in his. "i want you to move in with me," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I want to wake up next to you every day, to come home to you. I want us to build a life together, not just in moments but every single day."

your eyes welled up with tears of happiness. "bradley, are you serious?"

he nodded, a smile spreading across his face. "I've never been more serious about anything in my life. I love you, and I want us to be together, always."

tears of joy streamed began to well up in your eyes as you squeezed his hand. "I love you too, bradley. yes, I would love to move in with you." you exclaimed and he laughed, tilting your chin to capture your lips in a tender kiss.

"one day," he whispered, kissing you softly, "I'm gonna put a ring on your finger" he promised, eyes boring deep into your own.

you felt your heart hammering again, melting into a puddle of warm, happy goo.

"I'd want nothing more" you whispered back.

you could so get used to this. because being with bradley just felt oh so high school.

a/n : here we go! the first of the tortured poets department project! i hope you enjoy reading it as much I loved writing it!! as always, comments, likes, reblogs, feedback etc is always appreciated!! 🤍 also this is my first top gun work so please!! be kind!!

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general - @roslastyles420 @hopefulinlove @bluesongbird-blog

TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST SEND ME AND ASK OR A DM SPECIFYING WHICH FANDOM 🤍

#rooster x reader #bradley bradsaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster x reader #bradley rooster x y/n #Bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagines #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster x reader imagines #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun imagines #top gun x reader #miles teller #miles teller x reader

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eilidh-eternal · 8 months

Text

You make a promise

Part of the Metanoia series | Part 1 | Masterlist |

| SingleDad!Johnny x f!reader | 18+ MDNI | CW mentions of SA, stalking, general PTSD warning for reader and Johnny |

It happened again.

You knew it would. Know that part of being a woman in this world means living in near constant hyper-vigilance; with an acute awareness of your surroundings.

Should have known better. Should have been more aware. Should have kicked and screamed. Should have fought back.

It’s disappointment that curls around your mind like a serpent and sinks its fangs in deep, floods you with venomous, paralyzing thoughts.

Paralyzed. That’s a good word for it. Pinned against that bookshelf and presently burrowed beneath the blankets in the dark, body curled in on itself with trembling hands tucked tight to your chest. Small. Meek. Trapped in a body that betrays everything you taught it to do. Disappointed that the months of training you endured in the aftermath proved useless when tested outside of a controlled environment and theoretical scenarios.

It happened again–and you let it.

“Bubby?” Isobel is strapped in her car seat, kicking impatient little feet while Johnny works to unfasten the belt across her lap.

“Yes leannan?”

“Why’re the polis here?”

His hands go still, hovering above the buckle, and he turns his head over his shoulder just enough to glimpse the two lids standing on your front stoop. The air in his lungs rushes out of him, chin falling to his breastbone as the panic winding tight in his chest slowly unfurls.

This is home. Isobel is safe. Everyone is safe. This isn’t that day, he reminds himself, but seeing them on your doorstep strikes flint against steeled nerves. The carefully compartmentalized part of his brain that he reserves for work wrestles itself free from its confines and floods his body with adrenaline. Makes the hair on his nape stand on end and the muscles in his jaw tighten until it aches from the tension.

With Isobel extracted from the car, perched on his hip and her book bag slung over the opposite shoulder, he turns to nudge the car door closed, just in time to see your door crack open. Watches the two men present their badges and a folded bundle of paperwork. Gnashes his teeth when he sees, even from the street, wide and fearful eyes that scan everything behind them. Eyes that note his presence and dart away to catalog the next detail. Trodden snow and parked cars. The woman across the street, walking her dog. Surveying your front yard with the same scrutiny he does an engagement zone.

Isobel squirming in his arms tears his focus away from you, forces him to register the burning sensation at the tip of his nose, the tops of his ears, cold winter air surely biting into her skin just as mercilessly as it does his own.

“I dunno. Let’s get ye inside, aye? Dinnae want to find any missing fingers or toes tonight.”

To anyone else it would look like he’s taking his time with the ice, treading carefully with the little girl in his arms so as not to send them both crashing down into the snow. Anyone else would see lids next door and mind their own damn business.

Johnny’s never been particularly good at that.

Their presence alone is enough to raise his hackles, to pull the pin from his nerves and toy with letting the hammer fall. Just enough to see if they’re as trained up as the SNP says they are. But all that’s likely to do is scare you more, and he can’t have that. He just found you, just started to get to know you. He’ll be damned if he lets another rash decision chase a pretty thing like you away.

The thought of it twists and knots in his stomach, plucks at the out-of-tune strings wound through his heart in a weeping facsimile of something he doesn’t dare put a name to. Can’t name because it gives it too much power. Makes it too real.

It’s slow going, pretending to fumble with the keys in the cold. Feigning indifference as he grapples with “—in custody, for now—” and “—press charges?”

The snow and ice outside is a brilliant, blinding white. Inside, all Johnny can see is red.

Charges? What on earth happened that she needs to press charges for?

“Bubby, too tight,” Isobel grouses, and he loosens his arm around her with a sigh, lowering her to the ground to help with her jacket and boots.

“‘M sorry, Bell. Didnae mean to squeeze ye so tight.” Curls bounce around her face as she teeters on one foot, hands on his shoulders to keep her balance.

“It’s okay.” She shifts to her other foot, pulling free of the fleece-lined boots. “Ye’re makin’ a twisty face again,” she observes, and her brows mirror the pinch of his own.

Too damn observant.

“Ah know,” he admits, and his chest heaves with another sigh, reaching up to smooth the crinkles in her forehead with his thumb. “Dinna worry about me and muh twisty face. How ‘bout some hot cocoa? We’ll warm up and then see about supper, hm?” Her face splits into a toothy grin and he softens at the sight. Lets her latch onto his hand and drag him into the kitchen.

“May we come in?”

No.

“Of course.” You take a step back, pulling the door open just wide enough to let the two officers through. Melting snow pools on polished hardwood under their boots, and you quickly herd them towards the carpeted sitting room before the water can warp your floors. You sit opposite of where they do on your sofa, big fluffy robe pulled tight over flannel pants and a pullover.

“He’ll be released on Thursday morning, unless ye’d like to go ahead with the charges for—”

“—No.” Your fingers curl into your palms. “Just the restraining order. I—” Can’t see his face again. Don’t want to be in the same room with him again. “—just the restraining order. Please.”

The shorter of the two nods and produces a pen from his coat, scribbling something in the margins of the papers he holds before sliding them across the coffee table towards you.

“Tha’s the station an’ phone number,” he says, tapping on the notes he made. “We’ll ring ye when he’s released. An’ we’ll ‘ave the protective order in place by tomorrow. He shouldnae be botherin’ ye anymore.”

All you can manage is a nod and a whispered, “Thank you.” They’re kind enough. Most people are.

Until they’re not.

——

It’s dark outside when you hear a knock at your front door, and your hand immediately reaches for your phone, breath forced out of your lungs by the panic squeezing them inside your chest.

There’s a muffled voice. A giggle, followed by shushing and shuffling feet. “Dinnae want to spoil the surprise,” you hear in a familiar lilt.

Johnny?

You draw a relieved breath and wince when your nails press into the marks on your palms, angry crescent moons, and pull yourself up off the couch to peer through the edge of the curtains.

Johnny and Isobel stand, the former holding the latter, on your stoop, small pan of… something, in Isobels gloveless hands.

Bewildered as you are, you shed the blanket from your shoulders, smoothing a hand over your rumpled jumper, and hurry to the door, fretful over Isobels fingers in the frigid air.

The door cracks open, and with it, so do their smiles.

“Hi, bonnie—”

“—Surprise!” they say at the same time.

You stand dumbfounded in your doorway, hand braced on the wooden frame, and Isobel holds out what might be something of a cake beneath a mountain of whipped cream towards you.

“It’s a trifle,” she proudly announces. You turn a questioning eye to Johnny.

“Didnae have the fixin’s for a proper cake,” he supplies. “Figured it would be a sort of… olive branch.”

Olive branch? Why would he need—?

Clipped memories from several days ago replay in your head. Coming home. Sitting in the car. Johnny calling after you. Practically running away and slamming the door on him. Shutting him out.

And here he stands, thinking he’s done something worth apologizing over.

“You don’t need- you didn’t… oh, come in out of the cold, will you? No sense in freezing out there.” You push the door open wider, beckoning them in.

“Thought ye’d never ask,” he teases with a wink and shuffles inside, following you to the kitchen with Isobel in tow behind him.

“Here, let’s put that on the table.” Isobel gladly relinquishes the pan and you’re relieved when you feel its warmth seeping into your fingers, a little less worried about both of their lack of proper winter attire. “I’ve never served trifle… would bowls be best?”

“Aye, ye’ll probably need spoons too. More of a pudding than a cake,” he says as he settles himself in a chair, Isobel quick to clamber up onto his lap.

You’re surprised by your own lack of nerves. The dishes don’t clatter together when you pull them from the cabinet as they have in recent days, and you don’t feel so uneasy with your back to them. Don’t feel the need to look over your shoulder when Isobel thrums her little fingers on the wooden table, or the deep rumble of Johnny’s voice, speaking to her in hushed tones.

You’re safe here. Safe with them.

Johnny’s right about the dessert too. It’s warm, freshly made, and it’s made for a bit of a runny affair, melted whipped cream seeping into custard and some sort of cake on the bottom.

“It’s good. Thank you for, um… Thank you for sharing.” You spoon another bite into your mouth before you can shove your foot in it. Isobel seems to be in another plane of existence entirely, too absorbed with the confection smeared at the corners of her mouth. The same can’t be said about Johnny. He’s focused wholly on you, dessert in front of him a secondary matter. Tertiary, even, with Isobel perched on his knee and his arm looped around her midsection.

The warmth in his eyes has shifted, burns brighter, in a seeking sort of way. Searching for tinder to catch on. More air to billow and blaze. “Can I ask ye somethin’?”

You settle your silverware in your bowl and fold your hands in your lap, pulling the inside of your cheek between your teeth when your nails slice into your palms again. “Sure.”

The silence isn’t uncomfortable so much as it is heavy, laden with the weight of his unspoken question as he continues his assessment of you. For a moment, you wonder if maybe it’s you who owes him an apology.

“Havnae seen ye for a few days. Yer car’s nae moved and yer curtain’s been closed. And last week, when ye–” He pauses abruptly, mulling over his next words carefully. “Ye looked like a green recruit, fresh off the field.”

Terrified.

Shell shocked.

“That have anythin’ to do with the fellows who dropped by today?”

Your eyes flick between his, the bowl on the table in front of you, and Isobel–still lost in her own little microcosm. Untainted by the dark things lurking just beyond her understanding. You knew he’d seen them. Knew he might ask about them at some point. What you hadn’t expected was a trojan horse in the form of a trifle. Thought you would have more time to think of something to explain the situation away.

This isn’t something he should be burdened with. Not over you. Not when he has Isobel to look out for.

When you finally meet his eyes again they’re no less dim. Still searching for words buried beneath ash on your tongue.

“I… Yes. It did.” You swallow, shove down the knot working it’s way up from your chest. “I was followed, out at the shops,” you lie. “The man, he wouldn’t leave me alone, so… the shopkeeper called for the polis. He left me alone after that, but they still took a statement.” You glance towards Isobel again. To give yourself reprieve from the intensity of his gaze and to ensure she’s not listening too closely to the conversation being had. “Guess it wasn’t the first time he’d done it. They came by today to… to let me know he’s in custody. Wanted to know if I wanted to press charges.”

He’s quiet, unearthly still on the wooden chair, staring hard at the expression you’re doing your best to keep calm.

“This happen before?” he questions, hand curling into a fist on the table.

“No,” you lie–again.

He nods, a near imperceptible tilt of his chin. “Are ye filing?”

You nod in return. No need to go into the specifics.

His shoulders relax a fraction when he looses a long breath. “No wonder ye wouldnae come near me that day,” he muses aloud. “‘M sure my givin’ ye a fright in yer car didnae help much, either.”

“It’s not your fault,” you interject.

“Maybe so, but…” His eyes drift with his words, searching the patterns of the wood grain for something. “Can I ask ye another question?” When he looks up at you again, you nod. “Promise ye’ll tell me, if anythin’ like that happens again? Dinna like the thought of ye dealin’ with it on yer own, lass.”

“Tell ye what?” Isobel queries, bowl of trifle empty in front of her, but his gaze remains firmly on you, and you don’t think he’s willing to take no for an answer.

“Okay. I promise.”

Next>>>

©️Eilidh-Eternal.2024 ~ The intellectual property of Eilidh-Eternal is not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.

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lessi-lover · 5 months

Text

teenage drama II k.cooney-cross x russo!reader ~

(did you miss me cause i missed you) maybe a series 😉 ... but you'll never know? #even pests need love!

★ teenage drama II k.cooney-cross x russo!reader

your sister smirked cheekily as she expertly dribbled the ball past your much smaller legs, slotting it effortlessly in the net a laugh falling from her curled lips as she turned back to see you flinging your head back in defeat.

"lessi please can we play something else? football is so boring!" you groaned, tugging on your sister's arm before she went to collect the ball to play again. "i dare hear those words come out your mouth again! or you'll be banned from movie night, you hear me!" she threatened with a wag of her finger.

the blonde knew just how much you loved movie night, lately it had become one of her many threats to her easily gullible enough sister once she realised how she could manipulate so simply. she didn't really have that kind of power but it was fun for your older sister to feel as high and mighty as her older brothers seemed to be.

your older sister who would make you run around the garden until you both collapsed on the ground in tired smiles, your mother calling out from inside that dinner was ready, the older woman chuckling as she watched you finally catch a breath.

your older sister who would pick your tiny frame off the ground and into her arms as she carried you inside to the table, shaking you out of your sleep as you dozed of in her hold. your older sister who would beg you to join the games night after dinner she had planned for weeks only to fall asleep in your bed the second you dragged her off to your room.

it was safe to say being the youngest russo was easily the most dangerous spot at the table, although your older siblings always argued that the love you recieved as the last grandchild was surely enough to make up for the countless unwanted tackles and jabs you copped from them.

being dubbed as "the nice one" you tried your best to stay out of the russo family wrestling matches, seemingly always the first to attempt breaking your older brothers out of quite literally clashing each others heads together, your older sister only spurring them on as she cheered from beside a worried you.

"go gio go! watch out for his arms you git!" she would squeal moving to jump on top of the sofa quickly out of the way as luca grabbed his younger brother in a headlock, the both of them rolling around all over the floor.

sure you and alessia fought not much differently to your brothers and not much differently to those of your friends, when the older girl would force you to play football with her for hours on end, as she sliced the ball past you almost taking your head with it.

and sure the england forward could make you think twice before telling her your weekend plans to see some of your mates when she would then proceed to show up with her own friends blasting the loudest music you'd ever heard. a shout from her car that "your lift had arrived!" embarrassing you to no end as she cheekily waved you over.

it was not long after that incident that you got your finally your own car three years later and suddenly your lifts from the older blonde were not required, so the blonde had decided you now needed to have a coffee date every sunday to catch up with her younger sister.

although a childhood friend of hers always tagged along and that saved you enough to not have to hear her boastful stories in your ear ever five seconds, though you claimed the older girl hyped herself up just to get on your nerves.

and even if the clumsy girl could be the biggest pain in your ass on a good day, you really did love your her and people would say the two of you would do anything for each other, to the ends of the earth they would say.

but she really could be a pain in your ass.

like right now.

"alessia i know how to be an adult! i don't need you on my ass every five seconds!" you seethed. crossing your arms moodily over your chest, ignoring her offer of a piece of gum and focussing on the cars speeding past.

"helicopter parent you are." you mumbled under your breath, smacking away her attempt to give you a hug with a huff. "i heard that!" she whined, giving you an amused smile as she continued driving home.

you sighed looking out the window, your eyes following the curves and edges of each familiar house as you drove past. "okay i'm sorry. can you forgive me!" she grinned with a pout, gripping your wrist over the console as she dragged out her words.

"fine but only because i owe you a coffee and this will cover the cost." you answered begrudgingly, pinching her arm to let go as the blonde let out a cheer and turned the volume of the music up.

you had never enjoyed football growing up, you knew your interests lay elsewhere from a young age. so whilst your siblings played rough house with each other in the garden, you preferred to spend time on your own. tucked away inside with a book often whilst your mother made dinner, the older woman listening to any and every thought of your for hours on end.

and as your siblings weekends began filling with games and tournaments, you now sat in the crowd still buried in your book, head lifting every so often when you would hear your father's loud cheers. different matches every saturday, travelling to the far ends of the country to support your siblings, but no matter how far you were always there for them.

when your sister had made the move over to states, you'd missed her greatly and if it wasn't for your brothers convincing that you needed to focus on your studies you were confident you would have nearly failed your last exams.

it wasn't long before you finished your final exams that you made the decision to move over to london to start your career in the business world. suddenly things began to become clearer, you knew your path lay elsewhere from your siblings.

your passion for business and entrepreneurship had been a driving force throughout your studies, and the opportunity to start your career in london was too good to pass up.

you'd of course settled in easily to the busy life of living in london, smoothly finding your feet as you were quick to immerse yourself in the fast work environment, joining a large company which offered you the chance to learn from experienced entrepreneurs.

now back to present day, you still hadn't taken your older sisters advice to finally take being part of a footballing family in your stride and you were still adamant that your days of kicking footballs with the blonde in the garden were long behind you.

it was through your company that you were able to secure a job at adidas by leveraging your experience from your previous company and network in the business world.

your reputation for innovative thinking and partnerships caught the attention of adidas' acquisition team, who were seeking fresh individuals for their corporate division. it was only after a series of successful collaborations which drove impactful projects, you were offered a high role within the company.

however things looked a lot different now, your sister had now finally moved back from the states and moved through the ranks to what she described as one of the top teams in europe, her training grounds only a mere fifteen minute drive from your apartment.

but given your new company's strong connections with many football teams, you found yourself collaborating with arsenal, or more familiar to you; your sisters club.

failing to realise how much of a pain your sister still was you had offered to help coordinate an event for the team, told by your marketing director to bring your skills to the table.

"right we're here grumpy pants, do you want my jacket in the back? bloody freezing this morning." she grumbled, zipping up her own jacket as she turned the engine off.

"no i'll be fine thanks." you replied, giving your sister a cheeky smile as you stepped out of the car. you pulled your scarf tighter around your neck and looked around at the different fields.

"you look so funny!" you giggled, tugging on your sisters clothing all branded by her club. "oh shush." she hummed, playfully swatting your hands away with a smile. "you're just as annoying as i remember!" she grinned down at you, the blonde easily a few feet taller than you.

"can't say i don't remember younger you at all!" you said sarcastically. pulling up your phone to show her your lock screen, your background a photo of the two of you in the backseat of the car, probably driving off to one of her games out west.

you laughed all the way into the building, unable to contain yourself when the forward pushed on a so clearly labeled pull door and smashed into the glass, causing her to almost topple over.

"less! are you alright?" you questioned, trying to stifle your laughter as as a red mark appeared on her forehead, your sister with a pout on her face. "oh less." you chuckled, watching as your sisters frown deepened.

you reached out to inspect the mark, still trying not to laugh as much as you wanted to. "stop laughing!" she whined, looking a little embarrassed as she made eye contact with her teammates coming through the entrance. "it was an accident okay! my heads sore now."

"okay sorry, i'm sorry!" you apologised, finally able to suppress your giggles. "do you need ice or something?" you asked, pulling the clumsy girl off the floor. "i'll be alright, come on let's go inside."

"well good morning miss russo times two!" you bumped into lotte as you arrived, all of you entering the building at the same time. "lotts!" you squealed, jumping into the older girls arms as she lifted you off the ground.

"tiny! haven't seen you in ages, how's london treating you then?" she asked. the three of you fell into conversation as if no time had passed since you'd seen your sister's best friend.

"but i won't forget the time you made me pick you and gracie up from the dock, the two of you were completely shit faced!" she laughed, reminding you of the time you and a couple of friends maybe not so accidently drank way too much at a party and drunkenly called lotte to uber you home.

"my learning curve was thinking beer and liquor would mix nicely." you winced, thinking back to the hours after the party that lotte spent holding your hair back as you emptied your stomach. "fun night that was." in hindsight it probably wasn't the best start to your last year at school, but it was an easy excuse to not ever get that drunk again.

"yeah pretty fun night until i was woken up in the middle of the night to you and lotte at my window." your sister grumbled, clearly not as amused by the memory as you and lotte. she shrugged her jacket off up in her locker whilst you sat down on the bench.

"oh don't be a grub. can't forget when you and tooney had big night down in london." you chuckled, referring to the time her and the mancunian came home at four in the morning after having taken their first night out in the city.

"mum's got the patience of a saint." the two of you shared a look at that before bursting into a fit of laughter. pulling yourself up from the bench to grab your sister into a tight hug, your bond ran so deep. "i missed this tiny." she spoke into your hair, not missing beth's smile over your shoulders.

"oi russo who's the new lass?" a girl you recognised from your sisters instagram walked over, as you broke away from the hug. "katie meet my sister, she's here on behalf of adidas for a marketing event." the blonde introduced you as a few more girls floated into the locker room.

"nice to meet ya." she smiled, her accent thick as ever. "likewise." you answered, easily falling into a conversation about what you did at college, the irish girl interested in your role at the company.

lotte and alessia shared a look as they too fell into check as katie sat down with you. you watched as katie grinned over your head, clearly smiling at another teammate as you heard them behind you. "look who finally showed!" she chuckled as three girls entered the room, one of them tucking themself into her side.

you couldn't help but let your eyes draw to the youngest of the three as they put their stuff down, there was something captivating about her energy and you couldn't quite place it. that or the fact that she was easily the closest in age to you and downright the most beautiful girl you had ever seen.

caught in your thoughts, you barely even noticed the look that your sister and lotte shared over your head. "awfully chipper this morning, love." she joked as the girl grumpily rested her head onto katie's shoulder, seemingly not have had a great sleep last night. "not my fault dean was away and steph can't handle the pest on her own." she mumbled tiredly, glaring at a younger girl who you gathered was sitting next to steph who looked equally as tired.

"this is cait, arsenal superstar, australian international and most importantly my girlfriend." katie explained, kissing the top of caitlin's head before a hand pushed her face away. "shut up," caitlin giggled as she pulled herself closer.

"hi i'm caitlin nice to meet you, you're alessia's sister aren't you?" she spoke and you nodded back. "yeah that's me." you smiled, shaking her hand as she extended it. "less hasn't stopped talking about you all week, think she's more excited i'm here than i am," you chuckled.

"only good things i hope!" katie said back as your sister sat back down next to you. "mostly good things." you teased as alessia swatted your arm. "tiny best get a move on before those two show you a washing demo!" lotte said, patting your head hearing you laugh.

"not a pest." the younger girl grinned as she came back, arms firmly crossed as she moved across the room, flicking both katie and caitlin. "such a pest" caitlin groaned, as she winked at you.

"you must be kyra." you deduced, recognising the unmistakable australian accent, your sister having described the girls when you met for coffee earlier this week.

"one and only! you're less' sisters aren't you, been looking forward to meeting you." she smirked and caught off guard you couldn't help but blush at her forwardness, but before your cheeks could redden further you caught katie's eyes as she grinned.

but your attention was quickly elsewhere as kyra pulled steph's bun out of it's elastic before grabbing her in a headlock. "quick take it!" kyra shrieked as steph tried to grab her, her hand brushing yours as she tried to give you the elastic.

the australian so easily drew you in like a moth to a flame as her touch lingered on your hands sending a shiver down your spine as you heard her laugh, you couldn't help but wonder if she had done it intentionally.

you felt your breath get caught in your throat as your cheeks once again reddened and you struggled to stay focussed on what your sister was saying. kyra grasped for help with her attractive smile as steph took her down on the floor, the blonde begging for your help as your connected hands brought you both crashing to the ground.

pulling yourself off the blonde you sat up against the wall, herself with a smug grin as you were left alone on the ground. steph having been fed up and walked off the rest of the girls still conversing after a long two weeks apart.

"well, seems we have made friends with the floor." she giggled and you knocked your arm against her with a smile. "seems so." you agreed, the two of you falling into conversation.

perhaps it was the blondes cheeky smile that lured you towards her, or maybe it was the way she seemed so eager to meet you, or even the way her fingers so easily grazed over your own or the warmth that disappeared with them.

#woso #woso x reader #kyra cooney cross x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #kyra cooney cross #woso community #woso blurbs

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