#you know the face claim of bob's dad | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bradshawssugarbaby · 3 months

Text

God, Your Mama and Me (Jake Seresin x Reader)

A/N: told y'all I listened to country music and it inspired me. Inspired by and quotes God, Your Mama and Me by Florida Georgia Line. I'm not religious but that song gets me all heart-eye emoji every time.

pairing: Jake Seresin x reader (I'm 99% sure I kept reader GN the whole time with no mentions of appearance)

content/warnings: reference to God via the song (the line is "no one's ever gonna love you more than God, your mama and me"), Jake being adorable and trying his best to be romantic but he's more awkward than he wants to be bc he doesn't do PDA, brief references to potential character death (I promise no one dies)

word count: 1.6k

Jake took you by the hand, running playfully through the sand. Coronado Beach was where he’d taken you for your first date. It was where you’d met, where you spent every free weekend, where you’d meet with his friends at The Hard Deck for drinks on Friday nights and where you’d sit and watch the planes taking off from North Island as you waited for him to come home, not knowing what each day would bring but hoping and praying he’d come home to you safe and sound every time.

For the last three years, Coronado was an integral part of your life. It was where you’d held Jake’s 35th birthday party, a spontaneous beach gathering complete with a cooler of chilled beers and a portable speaker belting out country tunes. Despite the groans from others, the music had a magical effect on the usually reserved Jake, prompting him to join in with spirited, off-key singing every time.

It was where you and Jake had shared your first kiss, where he’d first told you he loved you - a sentence he admitted he never thought he’d say to anyone, swearing up and down he’d lead the bachelor life until he either died or retired, whichever came first. He’d always claim it was because he just “wasn’t the settlin’ type”, but his friends always saw right through it.

“He’s just scared,” Bradley had assured you one day over a beer while Jake tossed darts effortless at the board a few feet out of earshot.

Reading the puzzled look on your face, Natasha hummed playfully as she sipped her drink before raising an eyebrow at you.

“He doesn’t want to settle down because he’s scared,” She and Bradley nodded in unison.

“Yeah, doesn’t wanna leave behind a war widow kinda thing,” Bradley shrugs, “You’d think it’d be me who feels that way considering my dad died when I was literally a toddler, but no, apparently it’s Blondie who’s got the commitment issues.”

The first time Jake referred to you as his girl, the usually chatty Bradley had been rendered speechless, mouth agape while Natasha had choked and sputtered on her beer as she looked wide eyed at Bradley and back at Jake. Jake shrugged it off as if it was nothing, but everyone, even you, knew it was uncharacteristic of him.

The following weekend after stunning his Navy buddies, he’d been called away to the first mission since you’d started dating. You weren’t expecting it, but you got a heartfelt, emotional goodbye from Jake, one that was genuine and raw, a side of him you’d never seen before. He’d hugged you tightly and kissed you slow and sweet, making it last, permanent on your mind in case he didn’t make it back. As he promised you he’d return, you could hear his normally velvety smooth Southern drawl crack as his voice caught in his throat.

When he came home a few weeks later, you’d greeted him with a warm embrace, and he held you tighter than he ever had before, his first true public display of affection towards you. Bradley and Natasha could be heard whispering, while Bob simply looked on smiling, knowing how in love Jake really was, watching as it mirrored Bob’s own relationship with his girlfriend.

“Jake, where are you taking me?”

You laughed as you snapped back to the present, raising an eyebrow at him as he continued to lead you across the sand. His cargo shorts were hugging his hips perfectly, golden-tanned skin from the California sun illuminated in the light of the setting sun. His green eyes were full of a child-like excitement, his signature grin plastered on his face, looking like it couldn’t be wiped off even if you tried.

“Just trust me, ok? You trust me, don’t ya, Sugar?”

“Alright, alright, I trust you.”

“Atta girl, c’mon, almost there.”

You shook your head and shot him a playful eyeroll as he continued to guide you along the shore. Your mind flashed back to when you and Jake had first slept together - instead of the playful arrogance, overwhelming confidence and cocky egotistical attitude he gave off around his friends, he was the opposite when it came to loving you. He was gentle, caring, passionate and considerate. He checked in with you, making sure you were comfortable and enjoying it. He was selfless in the way he loved you - making sure you were taken care of in all aspects before he was, and if for whatever reason, his climax came before yours, he made a point to bring you to yours by whatever means necessary.

When Jake asked you to move in with him, the look on your face was one of pure shock and disbelief, you were sure you were dreaming it. Your wide-eyed gaze and raised eyebrows were enough to make Jake laugh, shaking his head at you.

“Now that’s not how I thought you’d react, babe.”

“I’m sorry…I just…can you say it again?”

“Ask you again?”

“Yeah, please?”

“Ok, Sugar, you’re losin’ it, but sure, I want you to move in with me, that sound alright to ya? We both complain we don’t see each other enough, and well, I just feel like it’s time we do somethin’ ‘bout it, right?”

You nodded your head and simply threw your arms around him, letting Jake embrace you tightly as he kissed your cheek. He had his friends help you pack and by the end of that week, you were moved in with him, sharing the little house on base together. His Cowboys jersey hanging in the closet next to your Commanders one - your teams were bitter rivals, and Bradley, who had come from Virginia, your home state, was beyond shocked to see Jake allowing you to wear a Commanders jersey to their Sunday night football watch parties. Bradley, forced to wear a jersey for another team, pouted at Jake.

“How come when I wear my Commanders jersey, I get told to fuck off and stay outside?”

“You don’t look cute in Washington’s colours, Bradshaw,” Jake replied matter of factly as he kissed you on the cheek, leaving Bradley to pout once again.

Jake stopped in front of you, turning his body to face you, bringing you back to reality for another moment. His unwavering grin still on his face, smiling at you as if you were the only sight around him for miles. Your heart melted when he looked at you - it always did - the love he had for you was always evident on his face, his gaze full of admiration and affection for you.

Your eyes widened as Jake went down on one knee in front of you. The sounds of the waves crashing against the sandy coast echoing softly around you. The odd passerby gawking as they went for their stroll in the dusky glow of the beach as the sun began to set on Coronado. Jake beamed up at you from where he stood on bended knee, his eyes matching the seafoam that was pooling around you, inching closer and closer to where you stood.

“Darlin’, remember that date I took ya on, where you made me dance with ya on the beach, after I swore I never would? That song you made me dance to, the one by Florida Georgia Line?”

“I remember,” you said, gazing at him with tear soaked eyes.

“Sugar, you know I’m not good at this kinda stuff - it’s more Bradley’s thing, being all sentimental and shit, but I’m gonna try my damnest, ok? You know how that song goes, “Baby you know my love is never gonna run dry, never gonna come up empty, now until the day I die, unconditionally,”

Jake’s cheeks blushed a soft pink as he tried his best to carry the tune, serenading you by the oceanside, “then it’s like, “You know I’m always gonna be here for ya, no one’s ever gonna love you more than God, your mama and me”? Guess that’s what I’m tryin’ to say here, no one on this earth is gonna be able to love you, or anyone else more than I do. I’m sure of it. I didn’t even think it was possible for me to love you as much as I do, but Baby, do I ever love you.”

“Jake,” you started, feeling yourself becoming breathless with excitement as he spoke.

“Babygirl, will you do me the greatest honor ever, and become Mrs. Seresin? I never thought I’d ever marry anyone, but I’d be a fool to not marry you, darlin’.”

Speechless, you nodded your head quickly, unable to make any sound other than an excited squeal of delight as he slipped the ring onto your finger. As Jake stood upright, he wrapped his arms around you, enveloping you in a loving embrace, his lips crashing against yours as he kissed you passionately.

From behind you, you could hear familiar voices cheering - you broke the kiss and turned to see Reuben, Javy, Mickey, Bradley, Natasha and Bob standing there, all beaming at you. Bradley wiped a single tear from his eye in his usual dramatic fashion, while Bob gave a proud thumbs up to Jake. A congratulatory smile formed on Natasha’s features, while Javy, Mickey and Reuben all applauded you both. You were overcome with emotion as you shared this moment with Jake and your friends.

“You all knew?”

“Of course we knew, Jake can’t keep a secret to save his life,” Natasha grinned, shrugging her shoulders.

“I get to be best man, right?” Bradley grinned as he clapped his hand onto Jake’s shoulder in a congratulatory substitute for a hug.

479 notes · View notes

roosterforme · 8 months

Text

Batting Practice Part 33 The Epilogue | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Some things never seem to change for Bradley. But maybe he worked at keeping them the same. Baseball, Everett and you.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing

Length: 3700 words

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

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

Seventeen and a half years later...

"Happy birthday, Coach," you whispered, slowly coaxing Bradley awake. He could feel your warm breath on his cheek and the weight of your hand resting on his chest.

"Mmm, Kitten," he rasped, placing his bigger hand on top of yours as he cracked his eyes open. And there you were, fresh from sleep yourself, and so beautiful with the early morning sunlight catching on the angles of your face. "It's Sunday. Why won't you let me sleep in?"

"Because it's your birthday. And we get to see Ev."

Bradley stretched and rolled over so you were pinned deliciously underneath him. "We won't get to see Ev until later this afternoon. He's going to have a very busy day."

"I'm not so sure about that," you said with a smirk as you dragged your fingers through his hair. Bradley knew he was going gray, but you claimed you liked it, including the few stray strands that found their way into his mustache.

"You sound like you've got something up your sleeve. Wait, Molly's not coming over to break the stove again, is she?"

You started laughing as you wrapped your legs around his. "Not that I know of. But anything's possible with her."

"Poor Bob," he said, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. "And the kids, too. She's an absolute menace."

Bradley pulled up your shirt and kissed his way along your breasts. If he was lucky, he'd get round one of birthday sex now and round two tonight after the game.

"Wait," he whined as you tugged your shirt back down. "What are you doing? It's my birthday."

"Yes," you agreed, kissing him once and then slipping right out of bed. "And I've been told I need to keep you on a very strict schedule. So come on. Get up."

"A strict schedule?" he mumbled. "Baby, I'm retired. My schedule revolves around making you breakfast, packing your lunch, coaching tee ball, and watching every single Phillies game."

"Well, I'll be making your breakfast today. And you can eat nachos or a hot dog for lunch even though you should be watching your sodium intake. And we will definitely catch the Phillies game," you said, reaching out to take his hand.

With one more groan, he let you lead him downstairs where you told him to sit at the kitchen counter. He passed his display case on the way and paused to look at his first Coach of the Year trophy and the baseball covered in little faded hearts that he used to propose to you. He smiled at the collection of other baseballs, including the one from the first time his son pitched a no hitter.

"Seriously, Bradley. We have a schedule to keep."

A few minutes later he had his World's Greatest Dad mug full of coffee in front of him. You kept checking the time as you pulled eggs and vegetables out of the refrigerator. Once 8:00 hit, you grabbed his phone from where it sat on the counter and entered his passcode as he sipped his coffee.

"Read this," you said, voice full of excitement.

"What is it?" he asked as you thrust the phone into his hands. It looked like he was going to have absolutely no say over what went on today, so he was just going to go with the flow.

"An article. In the Philadelphia Inquirer. It just got released two minutes ago."

"Okay," he muttered, setting down his coffee and as he started to read.

WILL SEASON FOUR BE AS LUCKY AS ONE, TWO, AND THREE?

by Harrison Boyd

June 27, 2039

From his draft day nearly four years ago to now, Everett Bradshaw has been turning heads. We had collectively wondered as baseball fans from the City of Brotherly Love if we would ever have a truly elite pitcher again after Ronson's career ending injury. But as soon as the franchise acquired Bradshaw, we were allowed to stop wondering. We have reached elite status once again. And Bradshaw shows no signs of stopping.

When I asked the freshly twenty five year old ace about the secret to his success, the first thing out of his mouth was, "My dad."

Bradley rubbed his eyes with his fingers and took a deep breath against the swell of emotions rising in his chest. "Kitten, what is this?"

You just shrugged as you cut up a green pepper for an omelette. "A feature article on Ev. Keep reading."

Bradley took a deep breath and picked up where he left off.

So I asked him, "Was your dad the one at your games who was cheering the loudest? The one who kept you motivated since you were a kid?"

"Not exactly," Bradshaw replied with a smile. "He was my very first coach. He actually still coaches tee ball in San Diego. He wins Coach of the Year so frequently, I think we've all lost count of how many of those little trophies he has at home. But anyway, I met my dad on the very first day I ever played ball. The very first time I swung a bat with instruction was from him. And he's the one who taught me how to pitch. His slider is still really hard to hit."

"You met your dad through tee ball? Through baseball? That's fascinating."

"Yes. I begged my mom to let me play. I was already obsessed with the Phillies by the time I was six. My mom took me to see them clobber the Padres at Petco Park, and I just thought they were the coolest team. So when she let me play tee ball, and I met my coach and learned he also loved the Phillies, I just wanted to spend as much time with him as I could. Turns out, they also wanted to spend time with each other. They got married a few months later. And then my dad adopted me."

While his birth name wasn't Bradshaw, Everett said he never had a close relationship with his biological father. "Really, he's not even worth mentioning. The only one I've ever considered to be my dad is Bradley. I can barely remember a time before he was taking me to the park to hit balls and teaching me how to keep stats. We did my homework together and collected baseball cards. He helped me apply to colleges. The video of him losing his mind when the Phillies drafted me went viral. My mom and my aunt and uncle are awesome, too. But my dad has always understood me in a way probably nobody else ever will."

During his four years at Vanderbilt, Everett earned a reputation as a fun loving, team oriented pitcher. But his stats were enough to catch the eye of every major league team. He pitched a no hitter against Stanford when he was nineteen, and he hit his first grand slam when he was twenty. And he's only cleaned up his form since then. For anyone not keeping track at home, Bradshaw already owns an incredible record in the MLB: he is the only player to pitch a no hitter as well as hit at least one grand slam for every year they played in the pros. His batting averages are practically unheard of for a pitcher.

It's no wonder he was heavily scouted. And he assures us that his dad was there with him every step of the way. "I didn't know anything about contracts. I just wanted to pitch. But I spent a lot of time talking things through with my dad before I made any decisions. And now everyone is making a huge fuss about my new 440 million dollar ten year extension with the Phils, but to be honest, I still just want to pitch as many games as I can."

The 'huge fuss' is being made, because Bradshaw is now the highest paid pitcher in league history. The Phillies went all in on him, however Bradshaw did adjust his deal to assure that the team would be able to keep top catcher Sanchez as well. "If Miguel Sanchez isn't catching for me and the other guys in the rotation, then that's a big problem. The team needed to retain him as well. And to be honest, Harrison, nobody needs 440 million dollars."

Bradley set his phone down, rubbed his eyes, and said, "I still can't believe our son is the highest paid pitcher ever."

"I can," you replied, adding cheese to the omelette. "He's incredible. Keep reading."

When I asked him what he plans to do with 44 million dollars per year, he kind of shied away from the answer at first. "Well my girlfriend runs a nonprofit organization back in San Diego. She helps fund underprivileged children and schools. So a lot of my income goes back to kids in the city where I grew up and beyond. But I've also been working on a bit of a project myself."

When I asked him for more details, he folded his hands on the table in front of him and took a few beats to answer. "We talked a lot about my dad and what he means to me personally, and how he has impacted my career. But I also think it's important to remember that I'm just one guy. I'm just one kid who went through tee ball and little league. There are thousands of kids across the country who benefit from those types of athletic programs every year. And some of them, just like me, really need the positive influence that the coaches bring. So my dad doesn't even know about this yet, but I'm starting the Bradley Bradshaw Foundation, which will help fund a handful of youth tee ball programs every year. This is something I've been thinking about for a long time. The coaches bring the love and dedication; they shouldn't have to worry about equipment costs and field rental fees."

Bradley dropped his phone onto the counter and tried to wipe his eyes as he sobbed. "I can't even finish reading it."

You slid his birthday breakfast onto a plate and set it in front of him. Then you wrapped your arms around his neck and let him cry against your shoulder.

"Why is he doing this?" Bradley asked you. "He knows how fucking emotional I get, Kitten."

You kissed the top of his head and whispered, "Yes, you're always very soft for us. But you're also soft and sweet for all the kids you've coached. Keep reading."

So he pushed his breakfast aside and picked up his phone once again. And once he blinked away most of his tears he read the last part.

When pressed about how he thinks his stats will pan out by the end of his fourth season, Everett 'Grand Slam' Bradshaw laughed and shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just trying for consistency. I'm trying to be a good teammate. I'm trying to make the best of every game I get to start. I'm trying to spend as much time with my family as I can. But if you really have a specific question about my stats, you should call my dad. He probably knows better than I do."

Bradley stood up from the kitchen counter and walked away from you. "I need a minute," he said, raking his hands through his hair. The love Bradley felt for his son was just simply part of him. He never took the time to try to pinpoint it exactly, because it was just built into him at this point. But he supposed it really was quite simple to reach back in his mind and pull out the moments when he started to fall in love with you and Everett. And it really was just because of the Tiny Eagles tee ball team.

If he hadn't agreed to help Bob coach that first season, his life would be fundamentally incorrect right now. He didn't even like thinking about it. But it was because of his love for Everett, and you, and baseball that he stuck with coaching. He'd spent time with countless six and seven year olds over the last eighteen years. He'd missed some practices and games for deployments here and there, sure. But giving a little bit of his time and attention to a roster of kids each spring ended up changing his life. Because while his family owned his heart, Bradley found he had quite a lot of patience and love to share with more kids.

"Bradley?" you asked softly, standing next to his untouched breakfast. "We can go see Ev when you're ready."

"I'm ready."

Bradley took a quick shower and put on his favorite jeans and his Phillies jersey with Bradshaw and the number 1 on the back. You were dressed similarly in your own Everett Bradshaw jersey; it had taken until your son was playing for the team for you to have what Bradley considered an adequate amount of Phillies clothing in your drawers. Once Bradley added his backwards hat, he was ready to go.

You took his hand and led him out to the new Bronco, and Bradley handed you the keys. He still felt like he was on the verge of tears again. "I need you to drive."

"Okay, Coach."

When you turned onto the Private Parking Only ramp at Petco Park, Bradley chuckled. "I still can't believe Ev is playing the Padres in San Diego on my birthday."

"You screamed like a small child when the schedule came out," you reminded him as you parked near the players entrance where the three of you had entered on your ballpark tour eighteen years ago.

"Yeah, I know, but we hardly ever get to see Ev during the season unless we fly to Philly." He was already climbing out before you turned the engine off, and then he took your hand as you laughed. "Shit, Kitten... it's 10:00. The game doesn't start until 1:00. Are the gates even open?"

"We can get in," you assured him, and you pulled a lanyard out of your pocket with VIP printed all over it.

"How did we get that?" he asked, leaning down to kiss you as you approached the gate together. "Ev usually just sends us box tickets."

But before you had a chance to answer, the security guard looked at the VIP pass and asked, "Which player are you here to see?"

"Everett Bradshaw?" you replied. "He plays for the Phillies."

The guard's face lit up and he said, "He just autographed a ball for my kids about ten minutes ago! Nicest guy."

"He's our son," Bradley said with pride in his voice, and you squeezed his hand a little tighter.

"Come on in," the guard said with a bright smile, unlocking the gate and sliding it open. "You can wait in the VIP lounge right up this ramp to the right. Scan the pass to unlock the door. I'll call down to the locker rooms and let him know you're here."

"Thanks," Bradley replied, and you led the way up the ramp. "Baby, I'm still a little confused about why we're here so early."

"You'll see in a minute," you replied, scanning the badge. Bradley pulled the door open when it unlocked, and he followed you into the lounge full of plush seats, TV screens, and refreshments. And at the far end, perched on the edge of one of the long tables, was Everett. He was smiling as he tucked his phone in his jeans pocket, and Bradley thought he looked impossibly taller and stronger than he had two months ago when they visited him in Philadelphia.

Bradley's eyes filled with tears as he started closing the distance to his son. "Happy birthday, Dad," Everett said with a laugh in his deep voice, but Bradley was already wrapping him up in a tight hug. He just wanted to hold all six foot two inches and two hundred and twenty pounds of his son, and Everett let him.

Bradley had to fight the onslaught of tears as the familiar feel of Ev hugging him back filled his senses, and the words from the article he read earlier flooded his mind. When he finally released him, he patted him on the shoulder. "You look good, Kiddo. Did you eat enough for breakfast? Are you still starting today?"

Ev smiled at him and nodded, "Yeah, I'm feeling good, Dad. I could probably use some of your pancakes though."

"Well why didn't you say something? I could have brought some with us. Kitten, why didn't you say something?" he asked you as you walked over to join them.

As Everett gave you an enormous hug as well, he said, "I'm thinking about sleeping over at the house with you guys tonight, since I'm not starting tomorrow. You can make me about a dozen pancakes tomorrow morning. Hi, mom."

You kissed his cheek and adjusted his backward Phillies cap. "I like your hair this way. You look so handsome, Ev.

"Of course he does," Bradley agreed. "He looks like you." And then he was rewarded with the twin smiles that you and Everett bestowed on him at the same time. "Listen, if you're coming back to the house later, I need to stop and get groceries. You ate everything in the refrigerator and drank all my beer last time."

Everett just smiled at him. "Damn, I really do miss your pancakes."

"Ev, that's an adult word," you scolded.

"Mom. I am an adult," he scolded back playfully. But he was grinning when he turned toward Bradley. "Did mom make you read the article this morning? From the Inquirer?"

"Yeah," he whispered, nodding his head. "You didn't need to do that for me, Kiddo. But thank you."

His throat was tight with unshed tears as Everett gave him another hug. "I didn't do it just for you. I did it for the other coaches and kids, too. You were just my main inspiration. You always are, dad."

"Please, Ev," he said, sucking in a deep breath as he rubbed his son's back before releasing him. "I might never stop crying."

And he was once again met with Everett's smile and yours. "You're a softie, Coach," you told him, cupping his chin in your hand and kissing him.

"Always for the two of you." Bradley kissed your fingers and then laced them with his as he looked around the room. "How much longer can you hang out with us, Ev? You need to warm up soon?"

"Pretty soon," he replied. "I'll walk you up to the box to meet Aunt Molly and Uncle Bob and the cousins, but we need to stop and take care of something first."

"Take care of what?" Bradley asked, but Ev was already heading for the door past the tables and unlocking it with his own badge. Hand in hand, the two of you followed your son down a long hallway that ended near the locker rooms at a door that said PRESS AND PLAYERS ONLY. "Are we even allowed back here?"

"Well," Everett said, stopping in front of the door, "if you remember the tour we took when I was six years old, this is where we met some of the players."

"Of course I remember," Bradley said, leaning down to kiss your cheek. "That was one of the best days of my life. I told your mom I loved her that day."

"He did," you confirmed for Everett.

"You two have always been sickening," Everett replied with a smile. "But yes, we're allowed in here. Actually dad, you're the man of the hour."

"Man of the hour?" he asked. "Kiddo, you're the star pitcher. It's just my fifty-fifth birthday."

But as soon as Everett pushed the door open and Bradley stepped inside, about twenty reporters and photographers started buzzing with excitement.

"Ev, I'm still confused," Bradley said as his son rested a hand on his shoulder. He watched you smile and head to an empty seat at the back of the room. "What's going on?"

Ev rubbed his shoulder before giving him another hug and releasing him. "Every interviewer asks me how I became successful. And my answer is always the same. It's because of you, Dad."

"Ev," Bradley choked out, his throat tight with tears once again.

"So you're in high demand, Coach. I told a few media outlets we would give an interview together. Nothing too crazy. As long as you want to."

Bradley glanced around the room, and as soon as he found you with a bright smile on your face, he said, "Okay."

So he sat down where the players sit, and Everett took the seat next to him. They had on matching jerseys and backward caps, and it didn't matter that he adopted Everett, this had always been his son. They were cut from the same cloth. They understood each other. They were a family.

Everett cleared his throat and announced, "Hey, everyone. This is my dad and my very first coach, retired naval Captain Bradley Bradshaw. He taught me literally everything I know about baseball. Everything I know about anything, really. He showed me how to pitch sliders and curveballs at Myers Park here in San Diego. He made sure I could lose a game with the same attitude as when I won a game. He and I met the first day I ever played tee ball and the very first day he ever coached. And he's been coaching the Tiny Eagles ever since. So I guess if you want to know more about me, then he's the man to talk to."

Bradley was still wiping tears from his eyes when the first interviewer raised her hand, smiled at him, and asked, "Can you tell us how proud you are of Everett?"

He turned to look at his son and smiled. "How much time do I have?"

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

Well, that's it! The tale of Coach Bradley! I can't thank you enough to everyone who has been lovely to me as I worked on and posted this fic. I can't get enough of these three. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32 (and thanks for the banner, Mak!)

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

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

Still want more? Read Draft Day!

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@harper1666

@throwinsauce

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@callsign-jupiter

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@andycanbeemotional

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@starlightstories

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@xoxabs88xox

957 notes · View notes

sarahsmi13s · 1 year

Text

Rodeo

(not my gif)

pairing: robert ‘bob’ floyd x pilot!reader (call sign: rodeo)

characters: bob floyd, reader, dagger squad, penny benjamin, pete mitchell, some dick named john and his friends (who aren’t necessarily dicks)

warnings: fluffy bob, bob in a cowboy hat, fighting, drinking (of age), suggestive, i believe that’s it

word count: ~2.2k

a/n: this came in second place, but i love it just the same. and i’m very close to writing a part 2 for this ;)

quick summary: when your relationship with bob is reveal to the squad, hangman can’t help but wait for bob to stake his claim on you.

*************

You sat in the Hard Deck, nursing your beer and playing pool with Phoenix when the bell chimed.

You glanced up and saw the Texan himself walk in, hat on and everything.

“Hangman, what the hell are you wearing?” Phoenix asked, leaning on her cue. You looked him up and down, chuckling when you heard his response, “I wear this all the time.” His accent had gotten thicker after visiting his family.

You had all just visited your families for Christmas. It was only two weeks but it had given you all plenty of time to slip back into your old accents.

“Nice buckle, Bagman,” Rooster commented, obviously teasing the fact that the buckle looked like it weighed down the front of his pants.

Jake puffed out his chest, a smile gracing his features, “Thank ya, Chicken. Thought I’d bring it back with me, I ain’t worn one in a while.” Rooster sipped his beer, “You get it at Bass Pro or something?” Jake’s face fell and you couldn’t help but laugh. “You did not jus’ ask me that.”

You glanced at it, looking at the details.

“You rode?” Hangman turned to you, his smile returning, “Yeah, best there was.” You hummed, sipping your beer before sitting it down to line up your shot, “What made you quit?” “I wanted somethin’ different for myself. My older brother rode, my dad rode. I did it for the adrenaline, so I thought maybe I could get my high while doin’ somethin’ that had more meaning.”

Before you could retort, Jake had looked at Bob.

“Since when do you wear hats?” You smiled glancing back at the WSO, who was wearing a reddish-brown felt cowboy hat, before looking back and catching the way his pilot looked at you. “Well, Bagman, you ain’t the only one that grabbed something from home.” Jake nodded in mutual respect before looking back at you.

He took a quick glance down at your belt line, seeing the lights reflect off your own buckle.

“You rode too?” You nodded, taking the final shot of the game, “8-ball far left corner pocket.” You gesture with the cue before taking the winning shot. “That’s game Phee.” Nat rolled her eyes and slipped you a 20.

“So, what was your event?” “Barrel racin’.” “Were you good?” “Best there was,” you winked and sat next to Bob. “How’d you think I gained the name Rodeo?”

Hangman donned his signature smirk, “I could think of a lot of things.” You shoved him, “You’re gross.” “Come on, Ro. That was funny.” Bob shook his head and draped his arm behind you on the booth.

“What made you quit?” Hangman asked as he slipped into the seat across from you. You sighed, “I raced for nearly my whole life. My brother Bryan did too. I could say I got out for the same reason you did, cause it wouldn’t be a lie. But I was always just Bryan's kid sister, or Darrel L/N’s daughter. I made somewhat of a name for myself, but by the time people saw me as me-”

You shrugged, sighing, “I didn’t enjoy it anymore. It became more about the trophies than the experience. So I decided to be the best at somethin’ I was proud of. That could give me a family, like the rodeo used to.”

Jake nodded in understanding, he patted your shoulder before moving on to bother Rooster and Coyote.

Bob sighed and let his arm fall around you and pulled you close to his side. “You didn’t tell me that.” You looked up at him, “Sure I did. Did I not?” He shook his head, “No, and you know I listen to every word you have to say.” You scrunch your nose, “I swear I told you.” He shook his head, “Nope.” You pouted, “Oh, well now you know.” He nodded, “That I do.”

You both smiled and he pressed a kiss to your lips. “Bob-” “I know Y/N, I just-” You cut him off by grabbing his shirt and kissing him again. “I’m tired of hiding it too.”

********

Meanwhile, everyone was watching the two of you.

“I can’t hear a word they’re sayin’,” Hangman said, straining a little to hear you both better. “Dude, when is that gonna go away?” Phoenix asked, in reference to his accent.

“Oh, it’s always there, trust me. It’s normally strong when he's drunk or really pissed,” Coyote confirmed, laughing a little.

“Plus, you never complain about Rodeo’s accent,” Jake commented. “Yeah, but it’s cute on her and gets Bob all flustered.” The group hummed in agreement before turning back to the (no-longer) secret couple in the booth.

They watched Bob kiss you, say a few words before being pulled in again.

“Damn, when will it be my turn?” Omaha asked, shaking his head.

“Bob is so in love with her it isn’t even funny,” Phoenix revealed. “He always talks about her, and they went to see each other's families over our break.” “Really?” Yale asked, crossing his arms.

Phoenix nodded, “He’s been in love with her since the mission in May last year. And I’m sure it’s the same case with her.” Halo nodded, “Yeah, I had to listen to her talk about him all the time. And then Bob would talk to me if you were anywhere within earshot of Y/N. He’s fallen hard, they both have.”

Jake shook his head, his eyes trained on the couple as they talked, “We don’t know how in love he is with her though.”

Everyone just scoffed, “Do you not see how they are looking at each other right now?” Fanboy asked, looking at his fellow WSO and his second best friend. “It’s painfully obvious.”

Jake scoffed, “Cowboys have a special way of tellin’ each other a girl is off limits, other than a ring and a few hickies.” “Which is?” Harvard asked, stepping closer, intrigued.

Hangman glanced around and saw a few guys looking at you, “Okay, when Bob gets up and leaves her alone, one of these guys will try to flirt and Bob is probably gonna see. And being the silent and passive aggressive type-”

“Guys, Bob’s moving,” Payback caught their attention. Everyone shut their mouth and watched how you sat there, a grin on your face as you picked at the label.

Jake narrowed his eyes trying to pick out which guy was gonna make his move.

Coyote hit his arm, “4 o’clock.” Hangman turned his head, seeing a guy high fiving his friends before adjusting his posture and making his way to you.

You didn’t look up when someone sat across from you.

“You weren’t gone very long.” “Well I just got here,” the guy chuckled, and that’s when you looked up.

You glanced around for Bob, but didn’t see him.

“I’m John.” “Rodeo,” you said, leaning back in your seat. “Rodeo?” You laughed, “It’s my call sign. I fly for the Navy.” John tilted his head, “You’re not from around here are you? You sound funny.”

The pilots, who had discreetly moved closer, dropped their jaws. “He did not just say that,” Rooster hushed out. “Oh he totally just did,” Phoenix smirked, waiting for you to lay into the guy.

You just laughed, “You have no idea how to actually talk to a woman do you?” If that hurt John’s feelings, he didn’t let it show, “Oh, I can show just how I talk to women.” He winked, “If you wanna take a ride?” You scoffed, sipping your drink with an arched brow, “Sorry, pal. I’m not interested.” He scoffed, fidgeting in his seat.

The group knew he was getting frustrated and there was no sign of Bob coming back, so they had to prepare to jump in themselves. Especially Hangman.

“Look, John, while I appreciate the offer, I’m already scheduled for a ride.”

Omaha and Yale choked on their drinks. Rooster and Phoenix smirked proudly, both for you and Bob. “I wasn’t expecting that,” Payback said, leaning on the pool table.

“With who? That cowboy that just left you here alone,” John glanced around. “And doesn’t seem to be coming back.” He looked back at you, “Come on. I could show you a better time.” He placed his hand over yours, gripping it.

You sighed, really just wanting him to leave you alone, “John, you are aware of the rules in the bar right?” He scoffed, and tightened his grip when you tried to pull away, “Yeah, don’t leave your phone on the bar. What the hell does that have to do anything?” You glanced up, smirking.

“You missed a few. There’s also a rule against disrespecting the Navy and women,” Bob looked at the tight grip on your open hand, and the tenseness of your shoulders. “And from what I can tell you’re breaking both. I can get Penny’s attention right now, then you have to buy everyone a drink, or you can leave.”

John stood up, being the same height as Bob he could look him in the eye. “And if I don’t.” Bob glanced at you and you shook your head, not wanting him to get into a fight when it wasn’t necessary. “Well-” John punched Bob. “Bob!”

Hangman, Rooster and Coyote immediately jumped into action as you reared back.

“Rodeo,” Maverick had appeared, moving from his seat at the bar while Penny moved to the guy's friends telling them they needed to leave. Maverick had caught your elbow, “He’s not worth it. Help Bob, we’ll take care of him.”

You nodded and moved quickly to help your boyfriend, helping him up and grabbing his hat. “Are you okay?” He nodded, wincing slightly when you brushed your thumb over his busted lip. “That doesn’t look okay.”

He shook his head, adjusting his glasses, “I’m fine, Sweetheart. I’ve dealt with worse.”

As John’s friends dragged him out, calling him a ‘fucking dumbass’ and throwing out ‘I told you so’s, Penny came over with a small ziplock bag of ice.

“Thank you, Pen,” you took it and the damp napkin, pushing Bob to sit on the table. You gently wiped the blood from his lip, “Bobby, I’m sorry. I coulda-” “Stop, don’t do that.” You nodded, “Alright.” He smiled, but it was small so it didn’t irritate the cut.

The group watched. They saw how your tongue poked out in concentration, and Bob’s eyes looking up at you.

“So, Hangman, what’s the thing? How’s he gonna ‘claim his territory’?” Fanboy asked, crossing his arms. “It seems he already has, his eyes are basically hearts,” Payback commented. “That’s exactly why he’s gonna do it.” “Do what?” Rooster asked, propping himself on the table next to Hangman.

“Thanks for coming to my rescue, cowboy,” you said as you pressed the ice to his lip. He hummed, “Of course, Princess.”

He grabbed your wrist gently and moved the ice away from his lip.

“It’s gonna swell.” “I know a way to make it better,” he sat up straight to look at you and kissed you. You giggled and ran your free hand into the hair at the base of his neck.

When he pulled away, he tongued the cut on his lip, “I need a way to show everyone that you're mine. And I’m not allowed to give you visible hickies.” Both of you knew it was too early for marriage, not that it bothered either of you but you knew this wasn’t how Bob would propose.

You smiled against his lips, “I think they know now, Rob.” He adjusted his hat and chuckled. “Now, as much as I love kissing you, this will be sore without ice.” He nodded and let you place the ice back onto his lip.

“You know, I’ve got an idea.” You hummed, “What’s that?”

Jake watched with bated breath as Bob reached up to take his hat off.

Bob placed the felt hat on your head, “There, now everyone knows.” Your eyes brimmed with tears as you looked at him. “Bobby…” “I know we’ve only been together for 8 months but-” You pulled him in for a kiss.

When you pulled away, his glasses were askew and his cheeks were flushed. “I love you too.”

Bob smiled and looked over, seeing Jake smiling and dancing a little. “I think Hangman’s more excited about me giving you my hat than you are.”

You looked over and laughed, “Oh wow…”

“Do that!” The blonde pointed over at you two. “He gave her his hat, so?” Harvard said, sipping his drink. “In the south, that’s like a proposal. It’s like a promise ring,” Jake was still pointing excitedly at the couple. “Wait really?” Phoenix asked.

“Yeah, really,” you confirmed when you and Bob walked over.

Jake rubbed his neck, “Did you-” “See you dance like a teenager that just scored a touchdown? Sure did,” Bob said, ice pack muffling some of the words.

Phoenix smiled sadly at her backseater, “You okay?” He nodded, “I’ve been bucked off a horse and pull g’s everyday, a punch to the face is nothing.”

Hangman couldn’t stop smiling at the two of you.

“Hang? You okay?” He nodded, “Just happy for ya is all.” You smiled and hugged him, “Thanks man.”

When you pulled away, you reached back for Bob’s hand. He grabbed it and intertwined your fingers.

“Now, if y’all will excuse us. I think my scheduled ride has been bumped up. See y’all tomorrow.” You tipped your Bob’s hat and he waved as you pulled him out the door and to his Jeep.

********

thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed!

thank you to those that voted for this story and i will be posting the last one tomorrow. i really appreciate all of you that voted!

if you want more polls for the ‘x reader’s that are just chilling in my docs let me know or if you have any requests for more fics please do so!!

love you guys <33

top gun tags <3: @milesdickpic @luckyladycreator2 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @sebsxphia

thank you guys for being here! i love you *mwah*

#bob x pilot!reader #robert bob floyd #robert floyd x reader #pilot!reader #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fic #bob floyd imagine #top gun imagine #top gun fic #top gun maverick #poll results #fic poll

2K notes · View notes

ff7-has-taken-me-over · 1 year

Text

Soap has a box that sits under his bunk and stays locked at all times. Everyone’s seen it at one point or another but nobody actually knows what’s inside and so they’ve all got their bets on what could be in it.

Gaz said there was a bunch of porn mags in it and got so severely judged for it that he considered changing his bet, but nobody would let him do so.

Price bet that it was family stuff. Pictures, heirlooms maybe some trinkets or what have you from family members (eg. a hair clip from his sister, a cigar from his dad, etc.)

Alejandro said it was different bottles of booze he had picked up from missions, reasoning the man was Scottish so it would make sense.

Rudy had gone the opposite direction and said it was food cause they all knew how much of a foodie Soap was and how severely pissed he got when any of them took his food form the common rooms.

Ghost had shrugged and said it was filled with his old journals since he knew Soap worked through them so fast, and he had never seen what Soap did with old ones anyway.

Soap knows about the bet and he refuses to tell any of them what’s in the box, always deflecting and shrugging whenever he’s asked about it. Because it’s his box of secrets and for once, he doesn’t want to share it with anyone else.

While him not telling is in part due to his own embarrassment it’s also because the box is filled with what the others would consider trash, but they’re special things to him.

It’s filled with trinkets and little bits and bobs from his team members. Different things they picked up during a mission and gave to him or something he had picked up to remember a particular mission for whatever reason.

There’s pretty rocks from Gaz that caught his eye and he just brought with him. They always end up with Soap cause the other man just leaves them in his pockets and forgets about them.

Price gives him snacks and foods from the regions he’s gone on a mission to and Soap keeps the packaging. Cleans it out and keeps them cause he’s a bit of a hoarder like that.

He’s got bullet casings and beer cap lids from missions and nights out with Rudy and Alejandro. No two beer caps are the same cause the two like giving him different alcohols to try and the bullet casings are from the last bullet that ended a mission.

Ghost gives him little vials filled with dirt and he always claims that it’s only because he had picked up too much to fit in his mason jars but Soap knows he does it on purpose. He knows that Ghost picks up his dirt jars and thinks of Soap and getting him some and it’s so heart touching.

It’s also got photos of the team from the ends of missions or night outs and some sketches that he considers too private to leave in his journals. Nothing erotic or anything but things that show the softer moments of their lives or, on occasion, Simon’s face.

So yeah, maybe it is filled with trash and useless crap but it’s his and he doesn’t find any of it to be useless. He loves his little box of trinkets that remind him of times with his team mates, it’s a home away from home for him.

#random fic prompt #fic prompt #call of duty modern warfare #ghost x soap #ghostsoap #soapghost #141 x soap #soap cares #soap’s got a box of secrets #ghosts jars of dirt #ghostsoap is more hinted at #family 141 #emotional soap

2K notes · View notes

grey342 · 4 months

Text

But daddy I love him

Dbf! Phil Wenneck x reader

synopsis - An innocent, family friendly barbecue soon turns dirty at the return of your fathers best friend from college..

warnings - MDNI 18+ content, Age gap (reader is 19, Phil is in his early 30s), (VERY) fast paced, thigh riding (kinda), Phil talking you through it, daddy kink and unprotected sex.

authors note - This post is in celebration of 100 followers 🎉 I can’t thank you all enough, so sorry again for my absence. I will hopefully be posting (semi-) regularly again, let me know what you thought of this in the comments and my requests are always open ❤️

please do not steal my work - belongs to @grey342

Oh. My. God

Your jaw almost drops to the floor with how wide you open it. You don't believe it's him when he first walks through the door, it's been so long since you’ve seen him. Too long in fact.

Phil Wenneck. Your dad’s best friend in college, you haven’t seen him since you were thirteen and he moved away to LA. Even back then you had a childish crush on him.

But now that childish crush was replaced by a salacious need. His eyes raked down your body, his tongue poking through his cheek. It seemed your lust for him was very much reciprocated. You walk over to him, slightly popping your chest out, and as you got closer you noticed his signature smirk plastered on his face.

"Well haven't you grown up?" He says, eyes never leaving your chest.

"I could say the same to you." You retaliate, he chuckles.

"See you still have the same attitude." He takes a swig from his beer. You focus on the way his adam apple bobs, your core clenching.

"And you're still a raging ass." He lets out a real laugh after that, it's quickly become your new favourite sound.

"You kiss your daddy with that mouth." He straightens, towering over you.

"Wouldn't you like to know," you smile up at him, "i'm gonna go inside. Maybe get a snack, wanna come with?" His eyes scan over your face, licking his lips as he nods.

You make sure to sway your hips when walking to the kitchen, knowing he would be tracing your every move. He scans your surroundings as you open the fridge door and say:

"What do you want fruit? Chips and di-" He grips your waist and presses his lips against yours. You immediately wrap your arms around his neck and lace your fingers in the hair at the base of his skull.

He groans into your mouth and places his thigh between your legs, you moan at the contact.

"You like that huh?" He says against your lips, sharing breaths. You nod your head, face scrunched in pleasure.

"Yeah I thought so," he slowly starts to guide your hips over his thigh, "you want me to take you right here? Bend you over the counter and pound my cock into you with everybody outside? Huh?"

"Please Phil.." You breath.

He claims your mouth again and lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He takes you into the bathroom places you down on the counter.

"Take off your shirt." He says whilst turning to lock the door. You follow his instructions and strip out of your tank top.

He turns back around and you swear he moans at the sight.

"Look at you baby," he grabs them, "but how about we get this off too hm?" He reaches behind and unclasps your bra, letting it fall to the floor. He groans grabbing your boobs and pinching your nipples.

"Phil, stop teasing," you gasp as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, "please...daddy."

He froze, you instantly panic worried you've scared him off until-

"Say it again." He rasps, eyes consumed with lust.

"Daddy-" He rips your shorts off, along with your panties and his pants. He pumps his dick a few times before rubbing the tip on your clit. You groan at the same time until he pulls back.

"Shit, are there any cond-"

"I'm on the pill, I was tested last week and it came back negative." You cut him off, he smirks back at you and rests his forehead on yours before slowly sliding into you. You gasp, he was big.

"Holy shit.." You moan, as he begins to thrust into you mercilessly.

"Yeah," he groans, "bet you've never had a dick this big before huh?" You rapidly shake your head, moving your hands underneath his shirt and rake your nails down his back.

His hand reaches down to rub and pinch your clit, you squirm underneath him.

"Come on baby give it to me," he rasps, "y'gonna cum for daddy hm.." He trails off getting lost in the way your pussy is clenching, pulling him in deeper.

"Fuck, daddy please." You feel the knot in your lower stomach begin to tighten. You claim his lips with yours once more as his other hand reaches up to pinch your nipple.

You throw your head back, mouth wide open with lewd noises spilling from it. Phil takes the opportunity to kiss and suck on your neck. You're certain there will be hickies left there for you to cherish this moment later.

He pounds into you relentlessly, knowing how close you are. You wouldn't be surprised if you were drawing blood with how deep your digging into his back. Your moans are getting louder and louder. His hand rubs faster on your clit and his head leans down, mouth clasping around your nipple.

"Fuck, Phil!" You cry out, legs shaking as the pleasure ripples through.

"That's it honey, that's it, good girl." He encourages, his hands gently rubbing your thighs. He allows you to come down from your high before picking you up and flipping you over. Your front pressing against the counter.

"Now," he slowly starts to thrust again, "two more."

You look at him through the mirror and give him a dopey smile, knowing you have a long night ahead of you.

#bradley cooper #bradley cooper x reader #phil wenneck #phil wenneck x reader #the hangover #x reader #smut #send asks #love

206 notes · View notes

roosterbruiser · 1 year

Text

𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐙-𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐒 — 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 𝟔.𝟕𝐊 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒, 𝐂𝐀 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟔𝐓𝐇, 𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟖

You know this is supposed to be a punishment.

Really, you know that.

You’re in trouble; you made your mama cry and your daddy won’t look at you and your brother called you a whore. But gliding down the old wood and bobbing between long-haired boys that let their eyes fall to your chest, with the warm wind billowing through your hair and the sun kissing your cheeks, you don’t feel like this is punishment at all.

Your cousin Jenny let you borrow her bikini, a flimsy crochet thing the color of a nectarine, and your Aunt Lydia let you borrow her old roller skates so you and Jenny could roller skate down the Venice Boardwalk. Jenny painted your nails cherry-red this morning and did your hair real nice. She’s a whiny sixteen-year-old, one that doesn't have any sisters or friends, and you’re supposed to be keeping an eye on her since you’re her older cousin.

“Wait up!” Jenny calls to you as you glide down the boardwalk with a grin. “Stop going so fast! Not fair!”

Glancing at her over your shoulder, you stick your tongue out at her. She’s fumbling around the wood, her limbs strewn about like a newborn animal.

“Mellow out, Jenny!” You call to her, laughing. “I’ll catch you on the flip-side!”

She whines, a pitiful and whiny noise, when you continue without her.

The sun is sitting high up in the turquoise sky. The air is thick with salt and patchouli and you don’t feel like you’re just the visiting cousin from the chicken farm. You don’t feel like this punishment--being sent away from Nebraska all the way to California to spend Christmas with your dad’s sister--is an adequate one. This has been the best Christmas of your life, really.

Chest heaving, you hoist yourself up on the ipe wood railing to catch your breath and give Jenny a chance at keeping up with you. You kick your legs, your feet heavy from the striped skates on your feet.

All the sounds around you are overwhelming: the waves crashing against the sand, the reggae music floating from the buskers just down the way, the hollow sound of footfalls and wheels on old wood, all the chatter of the thousands of people bustling around you in their Daisy Dukes and halter tops and and sweatbands. It’s overwhelming because you're not just suddenly being around so many people and under the hot sun instead of knee-deep in the snow, but all the life. Life is just buzzing around you, happening all at once. And it isn't chickens with their heads cut off, either--it's real life, actual people.

Your face is tilted towards the sun and your throat is growing warmer and warmer with joy.

The longer you’re here, the more you feel like this is the place you’re supposed to be.

Dennis Goldman had spotted you from a mile away--he always claims that he can practically smell stardom on people--and watched you from a distance as you left the whiny girl you were skating with behind, bobbing and weaving around cyclists and swimmers with your breasts bouncing in that flimsy bikini top. Dennis knows a good pair of tits when he sees them--and boy, did he see them on you.

You’re perfect. Your hair is done up nice, not too tight and not too loose--that is to say you don't look too much like a hippie or a square. And the face your hair is framing is a good one, Hell, even a great one. There is a sprig of freckles on your hairline, dark things kissed into your flesh. Dennis knows that freckles like that aren't earned sunbathing or skating down the boardwalk. No, no--they're earned out in the pasture with sweat dripping down the delicate column of your throat.

There is a ruggedness about your beauty--one accentuated by that too-big grin and those wide eyes and long lashes. He can't see any tan lines on your shoulders, which Dennis decides is further proof that you are not native to California. Your legs go on for a mile, sculpted and marked with bruises from manual labor. Your chest, covered just by that skimpy bit of yarn, gleams beneath the sun.

When he watches you heave yourself up on the railing, kicking your feet and looking up at the sky, he decides to go in for the kill.

Dennis is a short man, shorter than you by about an inch and a half, but his personality fills all that empty space above his bald head. When he saunters up to you, a fat cigar between his pink lips, you are watching an airplane cut the sky with your head tilted back, your jaw flexed.

“Cigarette?” Dennis asks you, pulling your eyes away from the sky and onto his broad forehead.

He’s smiling up at you, plumes of thick smoke tickling your nostrils as he offers you a thin cigarette from a heavy-looking gold case. It looks expensive--so do his thick-framed, tinted glasses.

“No thanks,” you smile politely, shielding your eyes from the sun above. “Don’t you smoke cigars?”

Dennis chews on his stogie and grins--his teeth are whiter than the sand just behind you, whiter than the clouds drifting across the sky. He stuffs the gold cigarette case back into the pocket of his corduroy jacket and smiles.

“I’m a gentleman,” he tells you, winking. And so far, he isn’t giving you any reason to believe that he isn’t a gentleman. Not that you mind rude men, anyway. “I always keep cigarettes on me for the ladies.”

At that, you perk up. A lady. He fashions you a lady.

“Bitchin’,” you grin, running your hand through your hair.

Dennis glances around the crowd, clocking all the thick-mustached men ogling at your tits and the way it makes you straighten your spine. Dennis knows, right away, that you’re the kind of girl that likes to be looked at. And he likes girls that like to be looked at.

“Are you here by yourself?” He asks.

You shake your head.

“My kid cousin’s around here somewhere. Lost her in the crowd.”

He saw you leave her behind, sticking your tongue out at her like a brat. But he just nods, taking a long drag of his cigar.

“Aren’t you cold?” He asks.

It’s curious--you’re one of the only people on the Venice Boardwalk wearing a bikini top. You’re surprised that more people aren’t wearing them, the salt air a balmy seventy-three degrees. It doesn’t matter that it is just a day after Christmas--this feels like summer to you.

“I’m hot-blooded,” you tell Dennis, kicking your legs softly.

He glances down at your scuffed skates and lets his eyes drag all the way up the length of your legs as you watch with a bated breath.

“You look it, babydoll,” Dennis tells you, puffing on his cigar. “I’m Dennis Goldman.”

He puts his beefy hand in the air between you and you shake it with ease, biting down on your lower lip as your cheeks grow warm.

“How’s it going, pops?” You ask.

He laughs, squeezing your hand and bringing it to his lips to press a wet kiss to your knuckles. You’re still flushed, your eyebrows pulled together.

“Decent,” Dennis answers, stubbing his cigar on the railing beside you and flicking the butt into the sand below. “What’s your name, kid?”

“My name is Dennis, too,” you say with a grin.

“Is that right?” Dennis asks, biting a smile.

“No,” you answer, sighing. “Just haven’t decided on a fake name yet. Gonna use Dennis as a placeholder for now. You dig?”

Dennis nods, laughing.

“I can dig it, I can dig it. How old are you, anyway, babydoll?”

You hum.

“Turned twenty-one in November,” you tell him.

“Is November just a placeholder, too?”

Then you laugh, shaking your head.

“Nope,” you answer. “It’s the real deal.”

Dennis eyes you up and down again, making sure you’re watching his drifting gaze. Then he points at you, eyes narrowed in concentration through his purple-tinted glasses.

“I bet you’re a Scorpio,” he says, cocking a brow.

You shake your head, blowing a raspberry and giving him a thumbs down.

“Ah,” he says, nodding. “A Sagatarius, then, huh?”

“Told you I’m hot-blooded,” you tell him.

“Where you from?” Dennis asks.

You size him for a minute, chewing on your bottom lip.

“Guess,” you say.

Dennis likes you already--you like to play games.

“East or west?”

“Everything’s east of California,” you tell him.

Dennis is imagining how well you would do in front of a camera. You would keen from the attention of a man--teasing and laughing, down for anything. He can tell you’re open just from the way you’re chiding him already.

“Somewhere cold,” Dennis starts and you nod. He sucks in a breath, raking a hand through the few wispy hairs gelled to his head. “Somewhere with lots of land.” You nod again. He narrows his eyes at you. “You a farm girl, babydoll?”

“Chicken farm,” you tell him. He doesn’t miss the sneer.

“Kansas,” he guesses. You shake your head. “Arkansas.” You shake your head again. “Nebraska.”

“Ding, ding, ding! You win!” You call to him, laughing.

He smirks.

“What do I win, then?”

Your lips tingle. Heat is pooling between your legs, like it always does whenever the prospect of sex wanders into any of your conversations. Dennis isn’t cute--not by your standards--but he has thick fingers, thick like ten fat stogies attached to his hands. And you don’t care much about what men look like--just what they taste like, feel like. You're more concerned about what men can do for you.

“I’ll suck your cock,” you tell him, holding his gaze.

Dennis isn’t shocked--doesn’t blink in surprise or stumble back. He tuts, nods, and then moves to check the fat watch on his hairy wrist.

You’ve said--and done this--plenty of times. But the farmers' sons and grocery store workers and bankers back home usually blush and stutter a little bit before they submit to your seduction. The fact that Dennis isn’t shocked makes a warmth settle deep in your belly. You fucking love California.

“Tell you what,” Dennis says, leaning against the railing. “I’ve got a meeting with a client at a quarter ‘til. What do you say you tag along, babydoll?”

Your mouth waters.

“So, you don’t want me to suck your cock?” You ask, not wounded but close to it.

He watches you deflate a bit.

“Of course I do, babydoll. I’m just a man after all,” Dennis says. “But I’m not the moneymaker here. My client is. And I think your services could be put to best use on him.”

“I’m not a hooker,” you tell him, crossing your arms.

He shakes his head, holding his hands up in defense.

“Trust me, I know that. I can smell a hooker from a mile away,” Dennis says, grinning. He thinks very highly of his sense of smell. “You’re just a girl that likes to have fun, right?”

“Yeah,” you say, relieved that someone understands you finally. “I do like to have fun.”

And because you like to have fun, you're not allowed back on the family farm. But you don't say that.

“You ever been to the disco?” He asks you.

Slowly, you shake your head.

“No discos in Nebraska,” you answer.

“There’s plenty of discos here. I’ll show you around some of them if you stick with me.”

Your mama used to tell you that you had no better judgment. She used to say that you didn’t think about the after or the before and only worried about the during. She hated that you went through life head first, couldn’t stand watching you briskly float through time. As much as you didn’t think about the consequences of your choices, they never seemed to touch you anyway.

So--what’s the worst that could happen?

Casually, you look out over the crowd. You can’t see Jenny anywhere. You’re supposed to be keeping an eye on her, you know, but she lives in California. She’ll figure it out. You don’t really care if it pisses off your aunt.

That heat is growing between your legs--the one that can only be sequestered by cock.

“What kinda car you got?”

Dennis lets his glasses fall down his nose as he leans in close to you, beaming.

“‘78 DeVille.”

“White?” You ask, leaning closer to him.

He can smell the sunscreen on your skin and the cheap body spray on your throat.

“Powder blue.”

You bite down hard on your lip.

“Lead the way, pops.”

Rooster’s already waiting in Dennis’ office. It’s too fucking hot in here and Rooster is just about burning up in his maroon turtleneck and bell-bottoms, chewing on the butt of a cigar as he impatiently taps his fingers on the arm of the leather couch he’s fairly certain that he’s stuck to.

Dennis is running late. He’s always fucking running late. Rooster’s already almost finished with his cigar and Dennis is showing no signs of showing up. He digs the toe of his leather loafer into the ruby-colored shag carpet, wishing that Dennis would invest in some fucking air conditioning in this place.

“Fuckin’ Dennis, man,” Rooster sighs, a plume of smoke descending in the low light of the room and seeping into all the walnut wooded furniture. “Phony.”

This was a rare day off for Rooster--until he got called in for a meeting with Dennis at the office of Goldman Homevideos. Dennis hadn’t said much on the phone, just that he wanted to talk with Rooster about some fine print on his contract. Rooster would much rather be back at his house in the hills, laying out in his pool, eating caviar, and listening to the radio now that they’re not just playing Christmas music anymore.

When the doorknob turns behind him, just as Rooster leans back into the couch and combs a hand through his curls, he sighs loudly and stubs out his cigar on the crystal ashtray beside him.

“Christ, Dennis,” Rooster calls out, checking his watch. “Take your fuckin’ time, why don’t you?”

Dennis clears his throat.

Rooster finally turns around, his brows blanched, and then he sees you. You’re standing beside Dennis, smiling softly, your hair kissed by the wind and your cheeks pinched by the sun. You’re in a flimsy bikini top and tiny pair of shorts, a pair of old roller skates slung over your shoulder and leaving your feet bare on the carpet.

“Is that any way to greet a lady?” Dennis asks, crossing his arms with a small smile.

“Didn’t know there was a lady,” Rooster says apologetically, standing up and holding his hips. “Sorry about that, kid.”

You shrug, grinning.

“Am I a kid or a lady?” You ask Rooster.

That’s the first time you see him smile--his lips pink and curved around white teeth, his mustache tickling his nose. He laughs, too, a short and dry thing as Dennis pats your shoulder and gestures to you.

“She’s got a quick wit, this one,” Dennis says. You keen at his praise, burrowing your toes in the soft carpet. “Rooster, we’ll go over your contract another time. Why don’t you show our guest to her seat?”

Rooster knows what’s going to happen. He’s done this plenty of times. Dennis will bring him in when there’s any newcomer that he wants to try out, essentially using Rooster as a human dildo to feel out if they’ve got that star quality Dennis is so sure he can sniff out. Rooster already knows that he’s going to fuck you.

“You can sit on the sofa,” Rooster smiles softly, nodding towards the leather. “Next to me.”

You don’t feel out of your element somehow--you didn’t in the car on your way over here despite it being the nicest vehicle you’ve ever touched, you didn’t walking into the little bungalow-style office with Dennis, and you still don’t now as you sit on the couch beside Rooster. Just being here, in this low-lit room that smells like cashmere and leather, you have that feeling in your gut that this is just somewhere you’re supposed to be.

From what you’ve gathered, this is about sex. You aren’t entirely sure what it is about sex, but it’s something that piques your interest. You’re already wet--and you have been since you mentioned sucking Dennis’ cock--and your fingers are beginning to tremble in anticipation.

Rooster sinks into the couch beside you--he smells like vetiver and tobacco, the scent thick on his tan skin. He smooths his mustache out and sits with his legs spread; it makes your mouth water.

“What’s your name?” Rooster asks, glancing at you.

Dennis smirks, settling into the chair behind his desk.

“She won’t give it up that easily,” Dennis says for you, winking.

“Just call me kid,” you say, shrugging. “Or lady. Whichever you think fits me best.”

Rooster nods, chuckling.

“I can dig it,” he says. “Where you from?”

You shrug, crossing your legs and sighing.

“Around,” you answer.

Rooster laughs.

“I think I’ve been there before,” Rooster teases.

Now you’re the one laughing--it’s a good sound, one that is as sweet as the lips that are parting for it to fill the office they’re sitting in.

“She’s a farm-girl,” Dennis answers for you. “Rooster here specializes in farm-girls.”

You raise an eyebrow at Rooster, who rolls his eyes and adjusts on the sofa.

“What’s the skinny on that?”

Rooster’s growing hot in here again. He isn’t necessarily proud of a lot of his earlier work--and he considers the first ten years of his career to be early--and grows uncomfortable when people bring up Cockwalk; all five volumes.

“You ever seen Cockwalk, babydoll?”

You’ve never watched a pornographic video in your life.

“She’s a farm-girl,” Rooster reminds Dennis, glancing at you. “Bet you haven’t seen anything more than a Playboy, huh, kid?”

You nod--besides all the sex you’ve experienced up close, you aren’t very knowledgeable about erotica.

“Well, Cockwalk is what really shot Rooster off--and what gave him the name Rooster. Top-grossing porn film of 1975--and 1976. We’ll show it to you sometime.”

Dennis lights up another cigar, letting his elbow rest on the desk.

“Babydoll here,” Dennis says, gesturing to you. “She offered to suck my cock earlier on the Venice Boardwalk. Didn’t you?” He takes a long drag and then smiles as you nod, leaning back into the sofa and crossing your legs. “I was flattered, of course. Especially since I could smell the talent on her from a mile away.”

Rooster wants to roll his eyes. He flatters all the newcomers like this--drifters, hippies, punks. He calls Rooster in to fuck them, smokes a couple cigars and unbuttons the first few buttons of his shirt, and then decides whether or not they’re good enough to bring on board.

You’re hot--blood spreading across your chest and belly. That heat is pooling between your legs again; it’s starting to get uncomfortable.

The air is thick with the scent of cigar smoke now.

“But I told her to wait. So she could meet you. So--babydoll, this is Rooster. Rooster, this is babydoll. She’ll be fucking you today. You down for that?”

You swallow hard.

“Can I ask a few questions first?” You ask.

Dennis nods.

“Where are we?”

“Los Angeles, babydoll,” Dennis answers with a grin. He takes another long drag of his cigar and then exhales it through his nose. “This is my office. I own Goldman Homevideos.”

You nod, biting your lip.

“And Goldman Homevideos…” you start, shifting on the sofa and glancing at Rooster, who’s looking at you very softly. “What kind of homevideos do you make?”

“Adult films,” Dennis tells you, puffing on his cigar again. “Erotic ones. Stag.”

Rooster watches a smile twitch your lips as warmth floods the tips of your ears.

“Porn,” you say, chewing the word. It tastes good in your mouth.

Dennis nods.

“And you want me to be in your adult films maybe. You’re not jiving me, right?”

“You wound me, babydoll. Rooster--I ever shit you?”

Rooster shakes his head, resting his chin in his palm.

“But now you want to watch me have sex with Chicken?”

“It’s Rooster,” Rooster corrects, amusement tugging on his lips.

You glance at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. You lick your lips, tilt your head, and mouth sorry. But he knows that you aren’t. It makes him smile.

He likes you--likes that you’re smart enough to ask Dennis questions and feel out the situation before going any further. It’s what he should’ve done all those years ago and what he wished other girls would do before they stripped.

“So, Dennis Goldman, you want me to have sex with Rooster while you watch?”

Rooster decides that he likes the way you say his name--your voice is soft and sweet, but it doesn't lack a certain gumption.

“Bingo,” Dennis grins. “If I see what I like, I can give you a very comfortable life. Assuming you’re willing to make some movies with me.”

You turn to Rooster now, smiling softly.

“He just spring this on you, big boy?”

Rooster barks out a laugh.

“Rooster’s the best in the business,” Dennis tells you, watching your tongue poke out and coat your plump bottom lip in a sheen of saliva. “He doesn’t mind a surprise every now and then. Especially when that surprise is a sweet little thing like you, babydoll.”

“And you wanna fuck me?” You narrow your eyes at Rooster slightly, tilting your head.

Usually, if someone asked Rooster that, he’d just respond the way he always does: I always wanna fuck everyone. That isn’t necessarily true--there are plenty of people he wouldn’t fuck if he wasn’t getting paid to do it. But looking at you--your wind-swept hair and your breasts straining against the fabric covering them, your glassy eyes, your glossy lips--he does want to fuck you. And he’s starting to feel better about coming in on his day off.

He reaches out, brows knit, and lets his thumb drag across the highest point of your cheekbone. Your skin is plush and soft beneath his fingers. A tingle runs down your spine and settles between your legs.

“Sure, I wanna fuck you, kid.”

Then he turns to Dennis and nods towards the record player--that’s one thing about Rooster: he always has to have music playing when he films and fucks. Dennis, with the cigar still between his grinning lips, leans over and puts on a record.

Too Hot To Stop by Funk starts playing--you’ve never heard this song before.

You don’t break your gaze away from Rooster as you reach behind you and pull the strings of your bikini top. It falls in a heap on your lap and Rooster, a breath bated in his beautiful throat, smooths his mustache before grabbing the bra and setting it on the ground beside you. It almost strikes you as a soft thing to do--him taking your discarded clothing from your lap and setting it beside the two of you. Most men you’ve fucked don’t even care to not tear your blouse or smear your lipstick.

Rooster scoots closer to you, saliva pooling on his tongue at the sight of your naked chest and the blush that’s covered it. He holds the back of your neck--not gently but certainly not roughly either--to keep you still as he ducks down and licks a hot stripe between your breasts. The sensation has your eyes fluttering already, your hands coming to rest on his thighs.

He moves to cup your left breast, tweaking your nipple between his rough fingers, and encloses his mouth around your right nipple. He sucks harshly, humming against your skin. You taste like sunscreen and body spray, your skin almost salty from the sea breeze that tickled it earlier. He likes the taste of you--not that he’s very picky about the way things taste anymore--and the way your chest rumbles with a moan.

This is the only moment today that you’ve felt a bit out of your element: what Rooster is doing to you feels good, like really fucking good. Hot beads of pleasure are spiking up your spine and settling between your vertebrae and your body is keening for more, more, more. Whenever you’ve fucked in the past, you’ve been in control. Meaning that you would suck an average cock and then spread your legs and get fucked. There’s been some pawing here and there, over the bra or under the blouse, but no one’s ever done this to you before.

To Rooster, this is almost mechanical. He knows how to make women wet--it’s literally his job--and he knows what gets him going. When he lets his tongue flick your nipple, his eyes dragging up your flexed throat to your parted lips and closed eyes--you release a sweet moan and instinctively curl your fingers in his hair.

Girl, it's something about your act / And I sure do like your style

“That’s good,” Dennis tells you. He’s still watching closely from behind the desk, his feet resting beside his notepad as he finishes up his cigar. “Rooster--take her pants off.”

Rooster leans away from you and you almost whine at the sudden lack of his mouth on you. You lean back on the sofa, cheeks burning, and grin at Rooster as you settle your legs on either side of him.

He hooks his fingers in your shorts and pulls them down swiftly--you’re not wearing underwear. The denim covering his crotch is growing tight now--and the cashmere wrapped around his throat.

“Real pretty thing you are, babydoll,” Dennis says. “Show her your mouth, Rooster.”

Sometimes Rooster feels like a puppet attached to strings, limbs flopping here and there at the command of Dennis or whoever else is behind the camera. Even when he’s having sex off camera, in his own home, sometimes he feels like he’s waiting for direction. But he listens all the same, smoothing his flat palms down your body and grabbing your hips.

You’re looking up at him, lips parted in a pout, and your chest is heaving. You’re already so wet and just him grabbing your hips and pulling you up, pulling your cunt closer to his mouth as he settles lower on the couch--you feel like this is all building to something.

Maybe it's the way / That you ride around

“This alright, kid?” Rooster asks, peppering kisses along the soft skin of your inner-thighs.

You’re squirming below him, your eyes lustful and dark. Sinking your teeth into your lower lip, you nod.

“Do it the French way, baby,” you mutter to him.

Dennis barks out a laugh, clapping.

“What a line, doll!”

Rooster secures your legs over his shoulders, cupping your ass, holding your body close to his face. Sometimes he feels like he does this so much that it’s ingrained in who he is as a person. He can just let go, think about something else, and have some broad writhing above him. But right now--he feels okay with being in his body, experiencing all of this.

He licks a languid stripe between your folds and kisses your clit. The sounds you’re making are entirely authentic: he knows it, you know it, and Dennis knows it. Your eyes are closed tight and your fingers are woven in his hair and your thighs are quivering just from one kitten lick from Rooster.

You taste good--you taste real. He can tell that you didn’t use perfumed douche before this and he actually thoroughly enjoys that. You taste like a human person. You taste like desire and arousal and skin and God, his pants are getting tighter and tighter.

“Don’t worry about anyone hearing you, babydoll,” Dennis tells you. “They’re used to it by now.”

This pleasure you’re feeling is entirely real. It’s red-hot and captures every single one of your senses. You can hardly hear anything above the sounds of your erratic heartbeat and the mewls and moans falling from your lips. Rooster is sucking at your clit, his mustache burning the delicate skin of your cunt, and this feels so fucking good.

Girl, I'm out to get your love / And I'm too hot to stop now

Rooster takes this opportunity to look up at you as he mercilessly sucks at your clit. You’re an undeniably pretty thing--especially when you’re naked and writhing above him. But there’s something else about you, something about the way heat covers your chest, something about the way your lashes bat against your cheeks that makes him feel like you’re different. You’re young--which isn’t different--but you don’t seem all that inexperienced. He doesn’t know what to make of that. He supposes, maybe, that he sees a bit of himself in you in that regard.

“Go ahead and give Rooster a big head,” Dennis grins. “Tell him how good he is with his tongue.”

“Your tongue feels fucking dynamite,” you moan out, back arching off the leather sofa. “You done this before or something?”

Rooster almost laughs, but he’s able to just moan against your clit and have you cursing and heaving above him. Dennis does bark out a laugh, shaking his head lightly.

“Oh, I like that mouth of yours, babydoll,” Dennis tells you. “Real sharp.”

He watches Rooster eat you out with calmness, tapping his fingers lightly on his leather chair. You’re good looking--people would go crazy over a young, sexy thing like you. And he was right; you have great tits. But there’s also something about the way that you seem to be totally in your mind and body that makes you so appealing. You know where you are, you know what you’re doing, and you’re gonna say what’s on your mind.

“Alright,” Dennis sighs, narrowing his eyes at Rooster’s gaze that is glued to your quivering lips. “Let’s see what else that mouth does. Take your pants off, Rooster. Babydoll, this is what you’ve been waiting for--suck his cock.”

You’re close to cumming--which is something you’ve only done between the sheets of your own bed by yourself or in the front seat of a truck with John Duke that one time--but you don’t mind it when Rooster pulls away from you.

Both of you meet each other’s gaze at the same time, his chin glossy with your arousal. And you bite a grin, slinking your leg off his shoulder. But before you can completely retract, Rooster brings his hand up to your calf and presses a short and wet kiss to the inside of your ankle.

“You’re a romantic, aren’t you?” You ask him, nudging his head with your freshly-painted toes. “Bet you’re a Cancer.”

Something tickles his belly. He is a Cancer.

You see his brows knit, see the little surprised gap of his mouth.

“I have a gift,” you tell him, winking. “Now, take your pants off.”

The carpet is plush beneath your knees--for a moment, you wonder if that’s why they chose it--and you’re flushed with anticipation as Rooster sits with his legs spread before you.

This is the first time you’ve really sat back and looked at him. He is a striking man--one that looks like he was bred here in California. He’s sunkissed and muscular, his sideburns thick and his mustache neatly trimmed. He’s wearing an expensive sweater and even more expensive leather shoes and a thick gold chain rests against his broad throat. His hair is styled with gel that you mussed and his curls are thick and sandy.

He starts to undo his own belt, his chest softening at the notion of this tension being relieved finally, but you lay your hands over his to stop him. The gesture is one that makes you dominant, especially when you smile coyly at him and reach for his belt, but your grip isn’t a harsh one. You hold him softly, but close enough that he can feel all the folds in your palms.

You’re good with your hands--fast and dexterous--and Rooster’s got a big and pretty cock, one that springs up out of his briefs with pearls of precum shimmering in the lowlight.

“Jesus,” you mutter in awe, tracing all the thick veins that mark his cock. “You’re so big.”

“Can you handle it?” Rooster asks, sort of in earnest. But a smirk is tugging on his lips.

He’s teasing you--you like that. You like it whenever men can get on your level.

“Jinkies, I sure hope so Mr. Cockwalk,” you chide right back, grinning.

Rooster laughs and Dennis claps again.

“Beautiful,” Dennis encourages.

He wishes he had his camera now--just this shot of you on your knees, elbows resting on Rooster’s parted knees as he leans his head back against the wall and gazes down at you with half-lidded eyes--there’s something special about this. There’s something really special about this.

“Prove it, baby,” Rooster breathes.

Instead of verbalizing your answer, you lean forward slightly and let all that hot saliva that’s pooled on your tongue drip out of your mouth and onto the crimson tip of his cock. He hisses at the intensity of the heat and the way your palm swiftly coaxes him, grasping him and swiftly pumping his head a few times to coat his cock in your spit.

Instinctively, Rooster’s hips buck up and you keen at the reaction, letting your mouth come down on him. And fuck--you do know what you’re doing. Your mouth is wet and hot, supple as it wraps around his cock.

Rooster’s gotten more blowjobs than probably half the men on this planet during his thirty-one years here. He likes them--who doesn’t like blow jobs? But there’s something about the way that you take him so well, something about the way you look up at him with your eyes squinted like you’d be smiling if your mouth wasn’t full of cock, that makes his chest tight. Even when the camera isn’t on him, Rooster knows what sounds to make--low, throaty groans--and what to do with his face--knit his brows, squint--but he feels like he’s forgetting all of that as you stare up at him.

“How is she, Rooster?” Dennis asks.

“Fucking great,” Rooster breathes, shuddering when you begin to bob your head and take him deeper.

You even reach down and cup his balls, massaging them, as your other hand grips the base of his cock and keeps him in your throat.

Rooster’s head falls back, eyes practically rolling to the back of his head. You’re taking him very deep, merciless in your tongue flicking along the sensitive skin on the underside of his cock. He’s bucking up into your mouth and you’re letting him, enjoying the flush tickling his ears.

The realization hits Rooster like a fifty pound weight on his head--he snaps up to look at Dennis, his brows knit and his fingers digging into the leather sofa.

“I’m about to cum,” he announces.

He’s so used to announcing it out loud for everyone to hear that it doesn’t even strike him as strange anymore to tell the balding man behind his walnut desk that he’s about to shoot his load down your throat.

At that, you pull back, letting your saliva seep down your chin as Rooster’s cock stands erect and red before you.

Dennis is shocked, staring at you and Rooster with a grin.

You look at Dennis over your shoulder, smiling softly.

“Best in the business, huh?”

Rooster laughs--he can take a joke. And then you glance at him, smiling yourself.

“Babydoll, why don’t you take Rooster for a ride?”

Quickly, Rooster discards his sweater. You almost ogle at him--every single muscle in the human body is on display, gleaming in the light, adorned with curly, sandy chesthairs that settle beneath his gold chain.

“Jesus,” you whisper to him, still on your knees. “Could you get any more California?”

Rooster beams at you, holding your hands and bringing you to your feet.

“I can try,” he tells you, winking. Then he pats his thighs, arms parted for you to climb into when you’re ready. “Hop on. Ladies ride free.”

The thought of Rooster fucking a man hadn’t even occurred to you--but a beautiful picture is painted in your mind for a fleeting moment. No one would ever do that back home in Nebraska, especially not admit it. But it doesn’t strike you as strange or dirty. In fact, it makes heat pool between your thighs again.

Just before you straddle him, Rooster places a flat palm against your belly to pause you. He doesn’t look at Dennis, doesn’t care about what Dennis is going to say.

“You wanna use a rubber, kid?”

You shake your head.

“I can’t have babies,” you say like it’s the most casual thing in the world. Rooster studies your face, blinking in surprise, but you don’t seem to clue him in on any upset in the matter. “I’m clean, too.”

Rooster nods, gripping your hips and guiding you forward.

When you’re close to Rooster, close enough that his forehead is resting against yours and his thighs are spreading your legs apart, you feel safe. Not the kind of safe you used to feel in your parents bed during a thunderstorm or in a really good hiding spot during a game of Hide N Seek with your brother. You feel safe like this guy isn’t an asshole and will probably stop whenever you want him to.

He’s holding onto your hips, his fingers dizzyingly long and digs into the meat of your legs when you sink down onto his cock. A string of curses tear through the air between the two of you and you gasp as he fills you up.

“Christ, kid,” he mutters, “so tight.”

That makes you clench around him and he gasps again, groaning. Fucking Christ--what are you doing to him?

When you’re fully seated, all of him inside of you, it takes everything in your power not to burst into tears. You’re so fucking relieved, that itch finally being scratched. He feels fucking perfect inside you, filling you up, pressing against something deep inside you that makes the lowest part of your belly bubble with pleasure.

“You two look real good together,” Dennis praises.

Like Dennis’ voice snaps Rooster out of his lavender haze, he holds onto your hips and guides you up and down on his cock languidly. You hold onto his shoulders, gasping and crying out, throwing your head back in ecstasy.

Dennis watches you carefully--you’re not acting. This is just the way you look when you have sex. You like to have sex; you like it a lot. What an asset a horny thing like you would be: all authentic pleasure, those pretty moans falling from your lips, those eyes rolling back in your head. You’ll be perfect. He’s sure of it.

“Fuck,” you mutter to Rooster, your breath bated. “Jesus--fuck.”

Rooster grins, letting you grind down on him and squeeze him tight. He’s not gonna last long--he knows it. Especially not when you lean forward and let your tits crash against his mouth. Hungrily, he finds your nipples and sucks relentlessly. Pulling his hair, you cry out.

When Rooster pulls away from your chest, unable to continue sucking when you’re gripping his cock so fucking tightly, he does the only thing he can think to do--he presses his lips against yours. You kiss him back and it’s soft and sweet, very unlike what’s happening down below. And then he keeps kissing you, letting his tongue caress yours, letting your erect nipples feather across his naked chest.

“You taste like Aperol,” you mutter against his lips, voice still drenched in pleasure.

And then you smile against his mouth, and cry out when he delivers a particularly deep thrust. For some reason--that makes him cum. He holds you down over him and strains to get deeper and deeper inside of you. He pulses against your walls and you feel every moment of his release, resting your forehead against his.

When it’s all said and done, when Dennis is genuinely delivering a round of applause for the two of you, you two catch your breath together. Your ears are ringing and his are, too. He’s smiling at you, a handsome and charming smile, and you’re biting your lip hard.

“You know what you’re doing, kid,” he compliments, squeezing your hips.

He’s still sitting deeply inside you.

Coyly, you press some of his floppy curls from his forehead and then delicately stroke his mustache. He likes how soft you touch him--like you’re afraid to hurt him.

“Aren’t so bad yourself,” you tell him.

“We’ve gotta find a name for you, babydoll,” Dennis says, coming to sit down on the sofa beside you and Rooster.

You stay where you are and Rooster doesn’t mind it one bit.

“You mean, like, I’m…?”

Your toes are numb with excitement.

Dennis grins at you, leaning over to pinch your cheek before patting it softly.

“You’re gonna be a star, baby.”

𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: 70S ROOSTER IS THE SUPREME ROOSTER

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑

502 notes · View notes

joelswritingmistress · 3 months

Text

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 42

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

The rehearsal dinner. I was an enchanted guest watching the dry run of the wedding unfold. Will stood proudly beside the Justice of Peace and his handful of groomsmen, Dr. Miller included, stood by as a woman rattled off a set of simple instructions.

I sat in the back row of the chairs that were set up to the left and right of a makeshift aisle. The hum of talkative laughter was buzzing behind me from Carol and her girlfriends. Even in their late forties and fifties, the women were happily carrying about the way teen lace girls would. Friendships like that were a rare delicacy; a blessing.

And then the men began their walk around the chairs to the back to meet up with the women. My eyes stalked Dr. Miller, awaiting for his gaze to fall upon me; but I soon recognized his eyes had landed on someone else.

I glanced over my shoulder as an older woman with glasses and the cutest little bob of a haircut made her way toward him. She almost appeared to be half his size, though she was probably just a few inches shorter than me.

Dr. Miller smiled warmly and opened up his arms, nearly scooping the woman up as he placed a kiss firmly on her cheek. And then their hands remained locked as they broke the embrace before she tapped the side of his face gently.

After a short conversation, Dr. Miller extended his arm in my direction and pointed. I froze.

His mother. I swallowed hard and waved before he motioned for me to join them.

I let out a deep breath and made my way down the empty row. I crossed over to where the two of them stood and Dr. Miller welcomed me with a hand against my back.

“(Y/N), this is my mother,” he smiled wide, face beaming, as he looked back and forth between the two of us.

“Francesca Miller,” the woman introduced herself, “But friends and family call me Franky.”

I smiled and didn't know whether to go in for a hug or a handshake, though as I began to introduce myself back, she pulled me in for a hug.

“It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Miller,” I said.

“It's very nice to meet you,” she said back with a nod, toying with her pearls. “And, please, call me Franky.”

I smiled again and nodded. Dr. Miller’s mother had an elegant, confident exterior; though I could tell she was witty and down to earth just the same.

“Where's your father? He beat me down the elevator.”

Dr. Miller looked around. “He probably took a pit stop at the bar.”

“The jackass,” Franky muttered, making us both laugh. She glanced around for a moment and then summoned Carol, who also claimed she hadn't seen him downstairs yet.

“Your mom is..” I smiled wide, searching for one of the many adjectives that were swirling in my head.

“A bit crazy,” Dr. Miller teased.

“Hilarious,” I corrected, “Adorable.. feisty.”

He chuckled and nodded. “That she is. Dad’s in trouble if he helped himself to a drink.”

“Oh here he is,” Carol’s calm voice made me glance in their direction and I watched as Franky marched up to her husband.

“Chas! Where have you been?” She raised her arms high in the air.

“Nobody was here yet when I came down,” he claimed, running a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair.

“And..”

“And what?” He put his hands out to the sides and I heard Dr. Miller chuckle beside me. Carol then turned toward us, shared a smile with her brother and rolled her eyes.

“Where'd ya go?” She was half his size, but it was apparent she wore the pants in that relationship.

“The bar.” He motioned toward the short hallway he had just rounded out from and Franky threw her hands in the air, speaking in another language in exasperation as she walked away. I was almost certain she was cursing but she winked at Carol and gave a smile when her back was to her husband.

“Dad!” Dr. Miller shouted and waved his father toward us.

The closer he got, the more I could see he was built like a linebacker. For a man I guessed who had to be pushing seventy, simply based on the ages of his children, he looked like he could give Hulk Hogan a run for his money.

“Dad, this is (Y/N).”

“Chas Miller.” He reached out and gave me a gentle handshake, placing his top hand over mine. His bushy mustache smiled as wide as he did.

“It's nice to meet you,” I said to him.

“Pleasure's all mine.” He nodded toward us. “Joel says you met at the university.”

I cleared my throat and nodded. “Yes. A couple of months back.”

“Well, he speaks very highly of you.” Chas gave a nod. In my mind it felt like a nod of approval.

“Chas!” Franky shouted for him before I could respond and he sighed and placed a meaty hand on Joel’s shoulder. “That's my cue.” He looked to me, “Happy wife, happy life.”

“That's right.” I laughed.

“We’ll catch up some more,” Chas vowed. He winked and I could clearly see Dr. Miller’s features when he did that.

When I turned back to Dr. Miller, he was shaking his head with a smirk. “That's my parents.”

“They're adorable.”

He nodded in agreement. “They are. They're good people.”

“They must be happy for Carol.”

Dr. Miller nodded again and pulled me in for a quick kiss. “I'm going to be walking down the aisle with Annie.”

I chuckled. “Well Annie happens to think you're a hunk, so..” I tightened his tie and looked at him with a grin.

“A hunk?” Dr. Miller began to laugh.

“That's the word she used.” I flattened his tie with my hand and looked up at him. “They're good people, too. You all are.”

“Well, you fit right in then.” He kissed my forehead and then my nose.

“I love you so much,” I said to him.

“I love you, too.” He tipped up by chin with his first two fingers and we shared one more kiss. “I think we're going to get started with the walk through.

“Okay. Enjoy.” I took my seat back down as he went to join the wedding party. From afar I soaked it all in - the laughter, the smiles, the banter. It was the exact vibe that should go hand-in-hand with a wedding.

The woman in charge of the procession began the walk-through. I snickered to myself when Joel and Annie strolled arm-in-arm down the aisle together.

Joel. That was one of the only times I thought of him as Joel in my mind, and not Dr. Miller. I had to start referring to him in that way - outside of the bedroom, anyway.

“Can I keep him?” Annie asked in her bold, British accent as they parted ways by the altar.

I laughed to myself and Dr. Miller blew her a kiss that she pretended to catch. As crazy about him as I was, I didn't feel any jealousy about any of it. It was playful and fun. I was happy to be a part of it all.

The others walked down in the same fashion before Carol linked her arm through her father’s as they made their way last.

Despite his macho appearance, I could see tears in Chas’s eyes. They didn't fall, but I was sure the following day at the actual ceremony they would. He appeared to be one of those teddy bear types in the body of an NFL player. It almost made me tear up.

What a beautiful family, I thought. I couldn't help but wonder if maybe one day I would be a part of it. Maybe I would be the one walking down the aisle as Joel waited for me.

I indulged in the fantasy of it all for a moment and continued to soak it all in. At the conclusion of it all, he made his way through the crowd and linked his hand with mine.

“Now’s the fun part,” Dr. Miller said.

“What's that?” I asked him.

“We get to eat.”

“Mmm.” I smacked my lips and he leaned in to kiss my temple.

The night continued on with the same warmth. I didn't want it to end. Chas and Franky grew even more comical after a couple of drinks, sharing funny or embarrassing stories back and forth.

Digging into the Miller family’s memories alongside them was precious - and entertaining. More than once Dr. Miller glanced down with a sheepish grin or placed a hand over his eyes when one of his family members revisited an old memory.

“When he was a teenager he drank our leftover beers from a Fourth of July picnic and filled the bottles with water,” Franky claimed, motioning to her son.”So we wouldn't know he drank them.”

“And then one hot summer day I'm mowing the lawn and go to drink one,” Chas adds, “And I'm like what the hell is this?”

“I remember that,” Carol said, laughing.

“He put them back in the case,” Franky went on. “Filled with water.”

“Evil genius,” Dr. Miller said about himself.

“Yeah a genius alright,” Carol teased. “You got caught within a week.”

Franky shook her head, looking outward in a sort of daydream. “Those days were funny.”

“See what you two are getting into?” Chas asked, motioning to Will and then to me. Again, I was happy to be included.

“I'm very lucky,” Will said to his future father-in-law.

“Me, too,” I added.

“Oh, can we just toast, already.” Carol raised her glass of wine.

“What are we toasting to?” Dr. Miller asked, raising the Old Fashioned he was sipping on. I mirrored them, as did his parents and Will.

Carol looked at Will for an extra second and then back to the rest of us. “To family.”

“I like that one,” Chas said with a nod.

Dr. Miller clanked his glass around with everyone's, leaving mine for last. He gave a little smirk. “To family.”

I nodded back. “Family.”

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @mandijo17 @shotgun-shelby @itscatrodriguez-thepearl @macaroni676 @acciowolfstar1 @smolbeanzzz @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat @bandluvr97

79 notes · View notes

bokyong · 2 years

Text

- When You’re Driving - Stray Kids Reactions

Stray Kids reaction when you drive the car

Stray Kids! (Boyfriend) x Reader!

- Fluff -

Word Count - 1k+

I know saying “drive” sounds weird but it’s literal car driving-

(Not capitalized on purpose)

————————————————————

♡CHAN♡

chan would definitely help with the navigation. always telling you which ways to turn the car and such. he’s so overprotective over you, he’s always lecturing you when you take your eyes off the road for a split second. “hey hey hey! look at the road babe!” in a concerned boyfriend tone. the only time he won’t ever kiss you is in the car because he demands you focus where your steering. (it pains him so much to reject your kisses omgg) he can’t imagine anything bad happening to you so dad mode is activated when you’re driving.

♡MINHO♡

minho is terrified of your driving. he will literally grab onto the hand holder until his knuckles become white with widened eyes. always convinced you’re going to crash into something. “Y/N! be careful, you’re gonna kill us!” in a whiny voice. claiming he’s petrified for life after experiencing your driving. “this is in my nightmares!” he exclaims with a pouty face. always attentive in the car looking like a nervous kitty. it’s cute though.. so you don’t mind.

♡CHANGBIN♡

changbin never wants you to drive saying you’re always “too tired” or “too precious”. he caves after you keep insisting, repeatedly telling you he’ll “make it up to you”. while you’re driving he’s always asking questions such as “baby, are you hungry?” “i can drive if you want?” you laugh it off responding with a “bin, it’s okay! stop worrying so much!” he playfully scowls at you, reaching his hand over to caress your cheek, rubbing soft circles on your skin. “fine but just tell me when you’re tired!” he urges.

♡HYUNJIN♡

hyunjin is a music machine. always playing music on the car’s bluetooth speakers. doesn’t even pay attention to the road, just to his music! “baby! have you heard blackpinks new song yet?” proceeds to play it even if you have.. sings along in his angelic voice. who needs autotune when you have hyunjin? your favorite thing in the world is listening to hyunjin’s raw vocals in the car. especially on road trips where you get to enjoy his voice for an extra long time. of course, you sing along with him. your soft voice plus his soft voice is literal heaven. “ooh! i love this song!” probably the most common phrase you hear from him in the car..

♡JISUNG♡

jisung would for sure be a car sleeper. falling asleep even on the shortest drives. honestly, it’s one of the cutest things you’ve ever seen. his head bobbing up and down with the movement of the car, the soundless ride lulling him to a deep slumber. you don’t even realize it until you try asking your boyfriend a question. after being met with silence, you lean forward to find his head laying on the headrest, mouth agape. giggling, you focus your eyes back on the road, enjoying the soft snores you hear from the passenger seat. falling asleep for jisung was a pretty easy task but waking him up was the real struggle. it starts off with an almost whispered voice repeating “jisung” while lightly shaking his body. he’ll twist and turn a bit but remain in his nap no matter how many times his name is called. absolutely nothing will wake this man up. not until you press a light kiss to his cheek. all of a sudden this boy is up and awake like nothing happened. “rise and shine ji~” you tease.

♡FELIX♡

the literal opposite of chan, constantly kissing you in the car whether you ask for it or not. he loves to sneak in a quick kiss on the lips, complaining that you’re never kissing him long enough. “‘lix, i can’t kiss you for that long! i’m focusing on not killing us!” you retort, giggling at the cute aussie. he lets out a few incoherent whines before taking your unoccupied hand in his and playing with your rings and fingers. he talks with you throughout the whole car ride, or at least most of it.., snuggling into your hoodie which you normally leave in the backseat. “it smells nice” he hums in content, wrapping himself around the warm material. if it’s a long drive, he’s out like a light within a few hours, using your soft hoodie as a blanket. he can’t help it.. his eyes droop shut in the comfort of his girlfriends lingering scent still left on the warm fabric.

♡SEUNGMIN♡

seungmin is the definition of a distraction. an adorable one at that. he finds joy in bothering and teasing you whenever you’re driving. you think of it as a way to clear his boredom, by annoying the living daylights out of you. he barks in your face, makes his iconic “gAaHh” sounds, makes weird sound effects, and anything else you can think of. it’s always the classic “baby! i’m so bored~” and “when are we getting there?!” that escape his pink lips. nevertheless, the car is filled with jokes and giggles from the both of you the entire time..

♡JEONGIN♡

normally a pretty composed boy on most occasions but when it comes to long car rides.. that’s another story. this mischievous fox is pure chaos in the car. whether he’s shouting, singing loudly, or complaining, he’s always managing to drive you insane. he’s so energetic that he even tires himself out. he’s pretty normal during shorter rides but if it’s anything over an hour he’s buzzing with liveliness. limiting his use of sugar and caffeine before the trip won’t do anything.. his body is just full of natural energy. “yah! i.n can you just go to sleep or something!?” you question, not actually mad at the adorable boy. “no babyy! i don’t sleep in car rides that’s for little kids!” he retorts. sooner or later, he crashes into a deep sleep without a word. you wont lie this is arguably your favorite part of the car ride. well it’s the only time where there’s actual piece and quiet with jeongin.. though, his sleeping state is a pretty adorable sight. him nestled up in his seat with his knees pulled up to his chest, his messy hair, and his relaxed face. whenever he awakes you always tease him with “i thought sleeping was for little kids~” receiving a pout in return and a playful hit to your arm.

————————————————————

These are based off of what I think they would do😅

Have a sunshine day! ✿

932 notes · View notes

starryeyedadmirer · 10 months

Text

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Tio?” You ask him, trying not to laugh too loudly as you watch him release his bloated stomach out to its full size, on the other end of the FaceTime call. “What are you doing?”

“I’m not doing nothing, man.” He answers. “I’m just pregnant, you know… like, three months in now… and it’s yours.” Suppressing a grin, he lets out a big, labored breath and starts to dance — bobbing up and down on his heels to the rhythm of his music, and bouncing his hand against the bottom of his stomach… like it’s some kind of sports ball. He looks so goofy, you just can’t help but to blow your laughter out through your nostrils.

“Yeah, yeah… whatever. Why can’t you just be normal on the phone, baby? I’m with my folks right now. Don’t make my parents think we got a kid on the way again. They’ll be on my case for the whole week.” Looking around the kitchen for any prying eyes, you lower your phone underneath the dinner table. “Act like you got some sense, Tio. Please.”

“I am being normal, man. I told you I was pregnant last week, before you left Cali, remember?“ As if he needs to double down on his false claim, he bloats his stomach out even farther, and pretends as though it’s hurting him. “We was at that Jamaican place by Fuego’s house, getting food, and I told you I was feeling it kick. Your kid was going crazy that day.”

“You ain’t say nothing to me about no baby, Tio… so, no, I don’t remember. Quit playing with me.” Again, you look around the room, hoping that none of your family members can hear your conversation.

“Okay, okay... I’m being so serious now. Real talk, I just ate a bunch today… and my gut’s kicking my ass right now. Some of the guys came over this morning, so we ordered a couple pizzas and grubbed. I think I did too much, honestly. I gotta go to the bathroom real bad. I been fighting it for, like, an hour.” His stomach still grossly distended — weighing heavy on his spine — he rests his hands on either side of the round mass, and eeks out a tiny fart. “Ugh,” he grunts, “that felt good.”

“Ew, baby! Go handle that… seriously. You know how you get when you eat greasy food. Nasty ass. I’ll call you back later.”

“Wow! You just gonna hang up on me like that? You not gonna come home and rub my belly? That’s actually fucked, man. You wrong for that.”

“Shit… I don’t care.” You reply, watching in disgust as his face twists into an excruciating grimace. “I’m not flying back home ‘til this weekend, Tio… and I’m damn sure not gonna stay on the phone while you use the toilet. You go do your thing, alright… and spray in there when your done. Seriously, I’ll call you back tonight… or probably tomorrow morning. My dad’s getting out some table games, so I’m probably gonna be up late.”

“Alright, man… whatever. Tell your people I said hi… and tell your pops he raised a bitch. I’ll hit you up tomorrow.”

“Mhm… okay.”

Another raunchy fart erupting from his ass like a drumroll, he grabs his phone and puts the call on pause. “Wait. Don’t hang up yet.” He tells you. “Say goodbye to your son first. I’m boutta go give birth… and you ain’t gonna get a chance to see him.” You hear the fabric of his shirt rustling against his screen for a brief moment… and then — without warning — the sound of his gurgling gut blares out from your phone speakers.

“What the hell is all that noise?” Your dad blurts, approaching the kitchen table with a stack of games in his hands. He looks startled… just as shocked as you are. Tio’s bloated belly is so loud — with the ‘baby’ working it’s way through his colon — you wouldn’t be surprised if the entire house heard it churning… even with your volume turned down.

“Fuck! Bye, baby.” You whisper, holding your phone to your lips. “Go handle your shit.” Without saying another word, you press the ‘end call’ button on your screen — abruptly concluding the FaceTime — and slip your phone back into your pocket. “Don’t worry about it, Dad. My phone is just acting up. Mom! Sissy! What game we playing first? I’m about to kick your asses!”

#starry eyes #quick write #malcolm suarez #malcolm suarez belly/tummy #✨his little belly✨#✨the way he bloats it out!!!✨

95 notes · View notes

lgg5989 · 1 year

Note

One beer universe request the dagger squad gets invited to bob n readers hometown for a holiday and they meet the rest of bobs family and get to know the shy WSO more from stories and pictures from his childhood and teenage years.

OMG dear, I am sorry this took so long! I think I finally got it to a place I like it though. :D

I hope you enjoy and to everyone in the US have a great and safe Thanksgiving!!

Bob was nervous to say the least. The team hadn’t been approved leave over Thanksgiving, and many of their families couldn’t travel to San Diego because of other commitments or a lack of funds to get there. So, being the small town boy he was, Bob invited them all over for a meal.

You had been running around the house like crazy, picking up clothes, organizing the bookshelves, and cooking the meal. He had been tasked with keeping Eddie and Katie occupied so that they couldn’t destroy the clean home you had created.

While the other families couldn’t join their aviator for the holiday, Bob’s dad had booked his ticket in advance, having made the plans to join them for Thanksgiving a few months prior. While you put the finishing touches on the house and meal, he took the kids to the airport to pick up one Arthur Floyd.

Bob stood with Katie on his shoulders and Eddie’s hand in his at the baggage claim. His head swiveled to watch for his father, a man who was tall and thin like himself, the same gold framed glasses he had kept from the seventies, and his usual tan jacket a staple for the aging Floyd.

At the same time he heard someone call out, “Bobby,” Eddie’s hand was pulled from Bob’s and there was a cry of, “Pops!”

Bob watched on with a smile on his face as Eddie raced towards his dad, the older man picked him up in a tight hug.

“Edward-o, my boy, how are you?” he asked, one arm holding Eddie against his side and the other pulling a suitcase along behind him. With Eddie now occupied with another adult, Bob reached up and took Katie down from his shoulders, she was missing her nap and promptly tucked her face into his neck, her little eyes fluttering closed.

“We’ll be in the car soon baby girl,” Bob whispered to her, rubbing her back with the hand not holding her to him.

When his dad made it to him, he pulled Bob into a hug, “Hey pops,” Bob greeted, trying to keep from jostling Katie too much.

“Hey Bobby,” his dad answered, “How’s Y/n?”

“Good, she’s at the house. We invited the team over tonight, since they couldn’t go home,” he explained as he took the handle of his dad’s suitcase, rolling it towards the loading zone where he parked the car.

The ride home was uneventful, the two men talked quietly, catching up while Eddie and Katie slept. When they got to the house, Bob was surprised to find that there were already a few cars parked on one side of his driveway.

When they came inside, they found Phoenix, Payback, Fanboy, Coyote, and Hangman, some seated and some standing in the kitchen, talking with you as you finished cooking a few dishes. As they entered the living room, stripping off their jackets, the group turned to see the newcomers.

“Hey guys, this is my dad, Arthur or Arty for short,” Bob introduced, “Dad, this is Coyote, Phoenix, Payback, Fanboy, and Hangman.”

“Good to meet you all,” Arty said, rubbing his hands together, “I’m going to bet that those aren’t your Christian names.”

Everyone let out a laugh, “No definitely not,” Phoenix said, extending her hand to the older man, she smiled, “I’m Natasha.”

“Ah you’re Bobby’s pilot then!” he said, “So good to finally meet you dear.”

“Thank you sir,” she said, a wide smile coming over her face.

“Oh don’t bother with the sirs, I believe all of you outrank me, if anything I should be calling you ma’am,” Arty said before making his way into the kitchen and pulling you into a tight hug.

“Hi Arty, I’m so glad that you could make it,” You greeted him, sinking into the warm embrace of your father-in-law.

“You look good dear. I’m just sorry your momma still hasn’t come around,” he said quietly into your ear.

You gave him a sad smile, “That’s alright, just as long as you promise to come for Christmas.”

“Like you could keep me from my grandbabies!” he said playfully as Eddie appeared at his side.

You let out a laugh, “I would never even dream of it!”

From your spot in the kitchen, you listened as the pilots talked to Arty. The man was a Navy veteran, which they had all picked up on. He had been drafted into Vietnam at only twenty-one. They might all outrank him, but they listened aptly to his stories. Eddie was content to sit on his pop’s lap, a toy jet in his hand.

As Arty started to delve into more personal stories, you felt Bob come up behind you, “Need any help honey?”

“No, I’m all good,” you said, smiling as Arty began to regale the group with stories of Bob’s childhood. He told them about the time Bob had defended a little girl from bullies when he was eight, how he had won the science fair when he was ten, and how at fifteen, he had been made kicker of the varsity football team. You knew without a doubt that Bob was his father’s pride and joy. With the pair of them losing his mother so early in his life, all they had was each other.

“I swear, I had never been more proud than to see him out on that field,” Arty said, “Until he joined the Navy of course.”

At that moment, the timer you had set on your phone went off. You turned the blaring sound off before pulling open the oven and checking the temperature of the turkey. It was just at 165°F, perfectly cooked. Slipping on your oven mitts, you pulled it out of the hot oven and set it on top of the stove.

Surveying your kitchen, you ensured that every dish was accounted for, before turning back to the living room, which was now alive with more chatter.

“Alright y’all, dinner’s ready!” you called, moving aside as the group of aviators got quiet and began to file into the small kitchen. Everyone stopped, turning to look at you.

“What?” you asked, confused as to why they were all looking at you, “Do I have something on my face?”

Phoenix shook her head, “No, you just cooked us this delicious meal, you deserve to go through the line first.”

You stood still, watching as she offered the plate she held in her hand out to you, “Oh, that’s not necessary. You all are guests here, I can wait. Besides I need to get the kids’ plates and-”

Suddenly, there were a pair of hands wrapping around your waist, “I’ll get it honey,” Bob said, his voice low in your ear, “Get a plate, enjoy our company.” With that, he placed a kiss just below your ear.

You shuffled forwards, grabbing a plate and filling it, watching as the rest of the pilots, followed up by Bob and Arty did the same. The dining table you had was not large enough for everyone, so you all found seats through the house, some positioned themselves at the kitchen table, coffee table, while others were just eating with the plate on their lap.

Eddie climbed up into the empty seat next to you, Arty setting a plate down in front of him, “Be good for your momma buddy, I’m going to go get some food too,” he said before giving you a pat on the shoulder and making his way back to the kitchen.

Once dinner had been eaten, and the pilots had insisted on cleaning up, you were changing Katie into some clean clothes when you heard Arty say, “Oh, I love this one!”

Glancing over, you noticed that he was pulling a thick, leather bound book off the shelf, opening it to the first page. You recognized it immediately, and smiled widely at the book.

Arty cracked it open while he took a seat on the couch. The rest of the aviators slowly joined him once their duty in the kitchen was done. He began telling more stories of Bob, showing them all of his baby pictures, the sports he played, the last photo they had as a family, the first prom Bob took you to, the photo of him walking across the stage at his high school graduation, one of Eddie’s first ultrasound print out, and one from the day you eloped.

Everyone’s faces changed with each story, but it made your heart warm that Bob’s coworkers were getting a better understanding of him little by little.You knew that your husband wasn’t the loudest person anywhere you went, and he often kept his personal life to himself.

By the time you were ready to serve dessert, Bob’s ears were pink from the attention being on him, deciding it was time to step in before Arty talked about Bob all night, you stepped back into the living room.

“Dessert’s in the kitchen when y’all want it!” you said, a smile on your face, “Does anyone want me to turn on the game?”

“Could you turn on the Cowboys game?” Jake asked, causing the rest of the group to let out a collective groan, Rooster’s louder than the rest.

You rolled your eyes at their antics before picking up the TV remote and putting the game on. This spawned more stories from Arty about Bob’s high school position and how he had been, sadly, cut from the Navy team during his time at the Academy.

With that comment, Javy turned to Bob, “I didn’t know you played for the Navy football team.”

Bob nodded, sipping his beer, “Yeah, just for a bit, I had to commit to my family,” he said, a smile on his face, “It’s hard to do that when you’re on the road all the time.”

It was at that moment that the Cowboys scored a touchdown, and Jake, having been half listening to the conversation, launched himself off the couch and cheered loudly. Payback, who had nodded off in the corner of the sectional, jerked awake at the other man’s yelling and shot him a glare, you and Phoenix shared a look before both bursting out into laughter at the interaction.

As the squadron started to trickle out of your house, you sent them all off with leftover plates in hand. Once everyone left for the night, save Arty, who was staying in the guest room, you made your way into the bedroom.

You were rubbing in your face lotion, leaning close to see yourself in the mirror. Bob let out a laugh when he stuck his head into the bathroom and you jumped when he appeared in the mirror.

“Hey,” he said quietly.

You gave him a wide smile, “Hello love.”

Bob came up behind you, his hands wrapping around your waist to hold you to him, “You don’t think the guys will see me differently do you?”

“What do you mean?” you asked, confused as to what they would see different about your Bobby.

He snuggled his face into the crook of your neck before speaking quietly, “Just about the pictures Dad showed them.”

“No honey, I think if anything, they understand why you are the quiet wallflower I love,” you reassured him, pressing a kiss to the side of his head.

You felt more than saw him smile into your neck, “Are you ready for bed?” he asked.

“I think so, my feet are killing me,” you answered in an overexaggerated voice, slouching your shoulders to really get the point across.

Bob laughed, his face still pressed tightly against you, “You are so dramatic.”

You hummed, “But that’s why you love me.”

As you both climbed into bed, settling beneath the covers, you laid your head on Bob’s chest, listening to his deep breathing. Just as sleep started to take you, you heard him whisper, “Thank you, for everything you do.”

The last thing you remembered as the world faded into peaceful dreams was mumbling out a quiet, “I love you.”

#bob x reader #bob floyd x reader #bob top gun #top gun bob #bob floyd #bob floyd x y/n #robert bob floyd #robert bob floyd x reader #top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick

310 notes · View notes

suck4angststory · 2 years

Text

One Shot

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Fem!Reader

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x Daughter!Reader

Once Again

Warning: Allusion to sex, but no smut. ANGST ANGST ANGST, Major Character death. English is my second language. Feel free to give me a comment about my writing and grammars mistakes

Author Note: btw if you want to be tagged just let me know in the comment. I can't reply to any of your comments because it's sideblog. But I really thankful for your comments and responds.

••••

Summary: Maverick once again have to face his biggest fears.

Maverick stood in front of the door with a big box of gift in his hand. The gift is wrapped in an orange wrapper with Rooster prints. He knock several times on the green door outside the bright yellow house. He step back when he heard a footstep approaching the door.

"Dad, you came" A woman with a bright sundress that matched her smile greeted him.

"Hi sweetheart" Maverick move forward to give (Y/N) side hug and she accepts it. They parted apart.

"Please come in." (Y/N) step aside so Maverick could come in. "You know, you don't have to bring anything" she nodded toward the present Maverick bring. Maverick lift his eyebrows at her and shrug his shoulder.

"It's for my grandson, of course, I have to bring something" Maverick grinned at her, he then walked through the hallway towards the living room.

The living room is already filled with balloons and several gifts, on the coffee table, there's a grey birthday cake with an F-18s decorations. number four candle stood in the middle of it.

A little boy wearing a green flight suit sit down patiently in front of the cake, he lift his head when he heard a footstep approaching. His face lit up when he saw Maverick standing in the living room. He then ran towards Maverick that grinned at him and open his arms for him.

"Papa Mav Papa Mav Papa Mav..." He jumps up and down excited with his Papa Mav. He jumps in front of Maverick. Maverick then pick him up and placed him on his hip.

"How's my little soldier doing", Maverick bobbed his nose and Jim scrunched his nose to him

"I good papa Mav. But I don't wanna be soldie' papa mav, I want to be pilot" He whined at him.

"Oh you're gonna be pilot, like the greatest pilot on Navy, Papa Mav," Maverick claimed.

"Noo... I want to be like daddy, daddy's is the g'eatest pilot on Navy" Jim played with Maverick jacket collar.

"Oh, your daddy is the greatest pilot than me?" Maverick teased him and lift his eyebrows at him.

"Yes, he says he saves you on the mission, so daddy is the g'eatest pilot than you" Jim lifts his hands to the air.

"That's right champs, your daddy is the greatest pilot than your Papa Mav" Rooster comes in from the kitchen wearing an open-up blue Hawaiian shirt with a white undershirt and blue jeans. (Y/N) then walked past Maverick to Bradley and hug his side. Bradley slips his arms to her shoulder.

"Really Rooster?" Maverick scoffed at him and lifts his eyebrows at him in disbelief.

"Hey, babe" (Y/N) tiptoe to kiss Rooster and they shared a kiss.

"Eww, daddy and mommy gwoss" James closed his eyes and use one hand to close his eyes.

"That's right, Jimmy, your Mommy and Daddy are gross" Mav taunted them, (Y/N) and Bradley then pull their lips apart and Bradley give (Y/N) forehead a long kiss. Bradley then released (Y/N) and walked toward Mav and Jimmy.

"C'mon champs, let's blow your candle" Bradley lift, Jimmy, from Maverick and place him in his arms.

"Oh, I brought you a present by the way" Maverick kicked the box beside his. Jimmy's face lit up with the words present. He turned his head and stared at Maverick with a big smile. He then turns to Rooster.

"Can I open it, daddy?" He asked Rooster.

"When you're down blow your candle and cut your cake. C'mon champs" (Y/N) called out already sitting in front of the coffee table and lit up the candle.

Jimmy wiggled in Bradley's arms and jump down from Bradley. He runs towards (Y/N) and sits on her lap. Bradley and Maverick followed them, they sit (Y/N) each other side.

They sing Jimmy a birthday song and after the song finished Jimmy blows the candle. They clapped for him, Jimmy then give (Y/N) a kiss and Bradley next.

"Where's Papa Mav kiss?" Mav pouted playfully to Jimmy. Jimmy then stand up from (Y/N) lap and runs towards Mav and he catches him. Jimmy then kisses Maverick on his cheek.

Jimmy giggles on Maverick arms and Mav kisses him on his forehead.

"Happy Birthday James Nicholas Bradshaw" He muttered to him.

"Mav, look at here" Rooster called out in front of the living room, camera in his hand. Mav gives his biggest smile with Jimmy in his arms.

"Wow, Your wrinkled looked prominent in here" Rooster taunted him when he saw the photo he had just taken.

"Thanks, Rooster" Mav rolled his eyes at him.

Rooster then set the camera on Tripod and place it in front of the living room. He then walked and sit in his place before.

"Jim, come sit with Mommy" Jim then stand up from Mav's lap and sit on (Y/N) lap. Bradley scooted closer to (Y/N) and placed his arm around her shoulder. The timer on the camera goes off and they give their best smile for the camera.

****

Bradley shoves his shirt into the green duffle bag that he places on the bed. He shoved the clothes he had just picked from the closet to the next mission he'll gonna attend.

"You know, maybe you shouldn't go this time" (Y/N) walked to the bedroom. A white uniform hanging in her hand, she stared at Bradley with sad eyes. She wearing a satin white nightgown that stopped at her mid-thigh.

Bradley let out a sigh and turn around to approach his wife

"It's gonna be okay honey, I'm with Dagger Squad this time. Even Mav's gonna be there" Bradley slides one of his arms to (Y/N) waist and brushes her hair that gets to her face.

"But I'm worried, I've never felt like this before" (Y/N) pouted.

"There's nothing you have to worry about. I'm gonna be okay, we're gonna be okay" Bradley caressed (Y/N) cheek. (Y/N) slumped her shoulder and let out a sigh. She released herself from Bradley and goes to hang his uniform behind the door. Bradley back to prepare his bag for his mission. (Y/N) smoothering Bradley uniform to remove all the wrinkle.

"Honey, did you know where my cap is?" Bradley called for her while he rummaging through the closet and drawer.

"What cap?" (Y/N) ask him. She turn around and looked at him that rummaging through the closet.

"The one with the white uniform, do know where is?" He turn around to look at her and furrowed his eyebrows.

"Hmmm... I think I saw it before" (Y/N) muttered. She walked out from the bedroom. Bradley let out a sigh and continue his searching.

A few minutes later, (Y/N) come back with a white cap in his hand.

"You mean this" (Y/N) lift the cap in his hand. Bradley then turns around and lets out a sigh of relief.

"Oh thank god" he approaches her and gives her a quick kiss on the lips as a thank you "where did you find it?" Bradley takes the Cap from (Y/N) and placed it on the bedside table.

"In Jim's box of toys" (Y/N) shrugs at him.

"How it can go in there" Bradley exclaimed. (Y/N) then walked toward him and snake her arms around his neck.

"Maybe a certain someone decided to play soldier with his son and father last week," she told him with a shrug.

"What!? Oh... I remember it." Bradley nodded remembering the event. "I mean, Jim wants to have some time with his dad and grandpa" Bradley snakes his arms on (Y/N) waist. They begin to sway each other embrace.

"Of course you are" (Y/N) muttered, she then buried her face in Bradley's neck. She closed her eyes and inhaled his scent. They begin to doing a slow dance in the bedroom. Bradley then heard her sniffles.

"What's wrong baby?" Bradley lifts her head from his neck, (Y/N) wipes her cheeks.

"Nothing" she sniffed. Bradley understands what his wife's sad about. It's about the mission he'll gonna do. "C'mon, there's nothing will be going on. We're gonna be fine, Baby" Bradley reassured her. His wife had never been this sad and clingy whenever he would go on the mission. She knows the risk of being a navy, especially a fighter pilot.

"How'd you know that?" her voice croaked. Tears spill down again. Bradley then wipes the tears from her cheeks with his thumb and caresses her cheeks.

"Don't cry, please. I'm sorry, looked I'll try to call you before I take off for a mission. What'd you think?" Bradley reassured her, he stared into her eyes trying to give her comfort. "And call me too when you're done with the mission" her tears streaming down now. And Bradley shush her, he brought her again to his embrace. "Of course, of course, baby. I'm gonna call straight away after I land" Bradley muttered in her neck.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know what happened to me. I just feel sad and I want to cry. And now seeing you go to a mission and I'm gonna miss you so much, I'm want to burst into tears" She muttered in his neck and begin to sob.

"It's fine baby, it's fine. Let it out" Bradley stroked her hair gently. A few minutes later, (Y/N) sobs begin to cease. And her cry stopped.

"Feeling better now?" Bradley ask her, she then nodded in Bradley's neck.

"Let's go to sleep, yeah?" Bradley lift her head and (Y/N) nodded at him. She sniffed a few times and Bradley wipe her remaining tears with his sleeve.

"I'm gonna wash my face first" Bradley nodded at her. (Y/N) then turn around to go to the bedroom.

****

When (Y/N) back from the bedroom, Bradley was already laying on the bed, his shirt is off and he just wearing a boxer. A seductive smirk on his face. (Y/N) lift her eyebrows at him.

"Mrs Bradshaw. Wanna come in bed with me?" Bradley pats side of the bed beside him.

(Y/N) folded her arms in her chest and walked towards him. She leaned down towards him

"If I come to the bed with you, what I'm gonna get?" She asks him seductively.

"You are gonna" Bradley lifts his body to a sitting position, his face facing (Y/N). "Get treated like a queen" Bradley lifted (Y/N) and brought her with him. (Y/N) let out a squeal at this.

Bradley shifts his body so (Y/N) is beneath him. (Y/N) giggle at him and Bradley just stared at her eyes lovingly. "You're so damn beautiful Mrs Bradshaw" Bradley whispered to her, he brushed her hair that got to her face.

"You're so damn gorgeous Mr Bradshaw" (Y/N) stroke Bradley jaw.

They giggle and Bradley leaned in to kiss her. (Y/N) kiss him back and tangled her hand in his hair. Bradley lifts (Y/N) thigh and begins to rub himself to (Y/N). Their kiss begins to heat and they let out moans in each other mouths. When Bradley wants to remove (Y/N) panties, the bedroom door cracked open, and a scared little voice comes into the view.

"Mommy, Daddy, you asleep?" (Y/N) heard this voice push Bradley out of her and Bradley landed on side of the bed.

"Yeah, sweetheart. What's wrong?" (Y/N) lifts his body from the bed and sits down trying to collect herself. Bradley just lay in the bed stunned.

There's in front of the bedroom stood James Bradshaw with his Alex the Lion from Madagascar clutched in his chest. He's wearing navy blue Madagascar pyjamas with Rooster printed pants. His cheeks were stained with tears and cheeks red. He jutted his bottom lip, pouting.

"Oh, what's a wrong sweetheart?" (Y/N) walked towards him and asked with concern, she then swoop him in her arms and Jim hide his face on (Y/N) neck.

"I think there's a monster under my bed. Because I heard a weird sound" Jim muttered in (Y/N) neck.

"Oh my baby, it's fine. You're with Mommy now" (Y/N) rock him and shush him to calm him down.

"Can I sleep with you, Mommy?" Jim asked (Y/N) and lift his head from her neck.

"Of course, you can baby" (Y/N) kiss Jim's forehead and Jim hides his face again in (Y/N) neck.

(Y/N) then walked them towards the bed. When they near the bed, (Y/N) saw Bradley pouted, his head resting on the headrest, arms folded in his chest. She rolled her eyes at Bradley.

"Honey.." (Y/N) called Bradley,

"What?" His bottom lip jutted out. "Covered your dick" (Y/N) mouthed to him and pointed to his crotch. Bradley saw where she's pointed out and let out a sigh. Guess, he should wait until he got back from the mission. Bradley then covered half of his body with the duvet.

(Y/N) placed Jim on the bed and he crawled to the middle of the bed. He slide himself to the duvet under him.

"Hey daddy" he greeted Bradley when he settles in the middle of the bed with his lion in his arms.

"Hey champs" Bradley greeted him, he turn his body to the side to caress his hair. (Y/N) then slide to the duvet and lay with them. "Why you not wealing a shiwt daddy?" Bradley is taken aback by the question.

"Yeah, why not you wearing a shirt daddy" (Y/N) turns to Bradley and mock him.

"Daddy just hot baby. So daddy takes off the shirt." Bradley explained to Jim

"Oh, I want to take my shiwt too like daddy" Jim tries to lift his shirt off but (Y/N) stop it

"No.. baby, you're gonna catch a cold if you sleep with no shirt on" (Y/N) explained to him softly

"But I want to be like daddy" Jim whined at her.

"How about, if daddy put a shirt on, you still wearing your pyjamas" Bradley suggested to him. Jim nodded excitedly "Yes daddy, I want to be like you"

"Okay champs, daddy gonna put a shirt on real quick" Bradley kissed Jim's cheek, and he then got up and take his shirt that he throw on the floor.

"Daddy, you have Rooste pants like me.." Jim pointed to Bradley's boxer when Bradley turn around showing a printed Rooster on the back of his boxer. Bradley put his shirt on and slide onto the duvet again. "Of course champs, we're twins" Bradley ruffles Jim's hair.

"I like being daddy twins. I want to have hail on my lips like daddy, Mommy." Jim turned to (Y/N) that stared at him. "Can I have a hail on my lips like daddy, Mommy" He looked at her with his big green eyes.

"Of course, you can baby, but not right now," She told him.

"Why not?" Jim pouted at her. Bradley caresses his blond hair gently. "Because you have to be taller if you want to grow a moustache like daddy," Bradley told him.

"What mou-mou-tash" Jim a bit difficult to pronounce moustache.

"The hair in daddy's lips" Bradley touches his moustache and lifts Jim's hand to feel it. "Oh, that's called mou-mou-tash" Jim giggled feeling Bradley's stache

"Why don't you dress up like Papa Mav?" (Y/N) suggests to him, because she knows, Jim adores his Papa Mav too. Maverick always spent his time fourth time a week for Jim. He gladly takes Jim from them and forces them to go on date or spent some time together. After Jim able to walk, Maverick will pick him up from the house and take him to the beach behind the Hard Deck every Sunday.

"Papa Mav is cool. But daddy why coolewl." Jim throws his arms in the air and giggles "Don't tell Papa Mav daddy" He told Bradley.

"Of course, my champs" Bradley kissed Jim's cheek. Jim then let out a yawn "I'm sleepy Mommy" He snuggled towards Bradley.

"Sleep my baby" (Y/N) caress his hair.

"Hold me daddy" Jim muttered to Bradley's chest. "Of course, my champs" Bradley tightened his grasp on Jim.

"Daddy loves you Jim" Bradley kisses Jim's forehead. (Y/N) smiled at them and scooted closer to them. She then reach out to snake her arms on Bradley's stomach and she closed her eyes.

"Sleep well my angels" Bradley muttered before he drift off to sleep.

***

"Wow, Daddy, you so handsome" Jim stared at Bradley with wide eyes. Bradley is already dressed in his white uniform, they're in the kitchen having breakfast. (Y/N) is in front of the stove, cooking for breakfast.

"I'm your daddy champs. Of course, he has to be handsome" Bradley then sit beside Jim that busy drawing something, he then takes a sip of his coffee that is already placed in the mug on the table. Suddenly, there's a knock on the door. (Y/N) whipped her head and want to open the door but Bradley stand up for her.

"I got it hon.." Bradley kissed (Y/N) cheek and walked out towards the front door.

***

"Champs looked who I found on the front door" Bradley walked with Maverick behind him, wearing the same uniform as Bradley. Jim whipped his head from his drawing.

"Papa Mav" Jim lift his hands to the air and Mav walked to him and lift him from his high chair. He then placed Jim on his hips. Bradley sits in his chair and begins to drink his coffee

"How's my pilot doing" Mav kiss, Jim, on the cheek. Jim giggle at Maverick "I'm good Papa Mav"

Maverick then blow-raspberry to Jim's cheek and Jim giggled out loud.

"C'mon let's eat you two. Dad, you're gonna wrinkled your uniform" (Y/N) called out to them, she placed the breakfast on the table. She took Jim's drawings and placed mini pancakes on his table. Maverick then placed Jim back in his high chair and Mav sit beside Bradley.

(Y/N) sit beside Bradley and take his plate to place some waffles and bacon on his plate.

"Thank you, babe" Bradley kissed (Y/N) on the cheek and she blush at him.

Maverick smiled at Bradley's family. He finally found his own family that he can take care of. At first, Mav is not happy about Bradley dating (Y/N) because he has one rule for his daughter 'No Dating with Navy Man'. Bradley and (Y/N) hide their relationship from Maverick for six months, but Bradley Bradshaw can make his mouth shut up for minutes and have to blow their relationship in middle of busy day at the Hard Deck. It was their banter with Hangman that made Bradley have to blow their relationship.

Hangman starts commenting about (Y/N) and tries to flirt with her when he saw her at Hard Deck. (Y/N) want to play with Hangman, (Y/N) respond immediately.

It was Phoenix's idea that make Hangman flirting with (Y/N). The other day, she caught them kissing in the parking lot of Hard Deck, she knows how jealous Rooster is if it comes to his girlfriend, so she makes Hangman do it because she knows how Rooster doesn't like Hangman.

Rooster can't take it and blow up his relationship with (Y/N) in the middle of Hard Deck. He shouts out to Hangman about he's dating her and kiss (Y/N) in front of him.

Maverick saw all of this with mouth agape and disbelief.

The next day, he called (Y/N) right away from her work. She works as a nurse in the local hospital.

Maverick give them lectures four hours straight about how Bradley dared to date his daughter and scolded them for hiding their relationship. But Maverick, in the end, has to accept their relationship. Rooster proves himself to be worthy as his daughter's boyfriend.

And now, here they are, married with a beautiful James in their family. Maverick wishes they'll be always this happy and Bradley cherish his daughter. He wants Bradley to experience what his Mom and Dad doing, having loving people that he got called family. He has been placed to call home, he got someone to come home, he got someone always waiting for him.

Maverick hope, Bradley is always happy and not going through what he has to.

He want to pay Bradley with the happiness he stole from him. With the time he stole from him. Maverick want to pay his sin to him.

****

The sound of F-18s whooshing around atop the tree-covered snow filled the silence in this forest. The four jets already finished their mission behind this forest.

"Thank you for your service Dagger Team, we're gonna sweep this place once again. You guys go back to the ship" Maverick announced to the radio.

"Copy that Captain, Dagger three return to the ship" Hangman replies to Maverick.

"Confirm"

"Dagger four, return to the ship" Phoenix spoke to the radio.

"Confirm"

"See you on the base Rooster," Phoenix say goodbye to Bradley. Now Maverick and Rooster are sweeping around the place to watch any enemy or bogey that is still in the area.

"Hey, Mav, did you see James drawing for you" Rooster talked to Maverick from the radio, he looked around to see any sign of enemy.

"Yeah, I got it in my pocket." Maverick click the button in his jet to make it on autopilot, he then pulls a paper from his chest pocket and opens it. There's is drawing of Maverick in his green flight suit with a green crayon, beside him is James.

"Wow, I think he'll gonna be an artist, he has the talent" Maverick examined the drawing in his hand.

"Yeah, I'm surprised with his drawing" Rooster replied on the radio. Suddenly there's a jet behind Maverick that want to knock him from his jet, but Maverick pull his jet up on time so the bogey doesn't get him "Oh shit!" Jim's drawing falls somewhere in the jet.

"What happened!" Rooster asked him, panic rising in him. He try to look for Maverick.

"There's bogey on my tail" The bogey comes back again and begins to chase Maverick, Maverick and the bogey begin dogfighting.

"Stay there Mav" Rooster clicks the button on his jet and picks up his speed to catch Maverick.

"No! Rooster! go back to the ship" Maverick order him, still trying to make the bogey out of his tail.

"I'm not leaving you!" Rooster stated to him.

"Shit! shit! shit!" Maverick curses when the boogie begins to shoot him. Before the boogie can shoot Mav, Rooster comes and shoot the bogey, the bogey Jet exploded and Maverick took a deep breath of relief.

"I got you old man" Rooster taunted him in playfully.

"Thanks, Rooster" Maverick breathed out relief. But out of the blue, another bogey comes and shoots Rooster jet engine.

"Oh fuck!" Rooster cursed, he try to control his Jet, but the shot destroy his airflow. Flames come out from the engine.

"ROOSTER!" Maverick shout out, he chases the bogey and shoots them and they explode.

"My engine on fire" Rooster breathing heavily. He tries to control his Jet but it's too late. His jet swings around in yaw.

"You have to eject Rooster!" Maverick breathing heavily. Panic begins rising in his body. Rooster tries to reach for the eject but it's stuck. His jet is becoming lower to the hard deck. "I can't Mav, it's stuck" Rooster's voice is trembling with panic.

Suddenly, Goose's voice when the accident happened filled his earing. A frantic voice of Goose and him filled his mind.

"Plane's coupling up! Plane's coupling up"

"We're going low Mav."

"I can't eject"

"I'll do it for you"

"Goose, you have to eject, eject, eject" Maverick doesn't realise he shout Goose's name here.

"Goose talk to me. You have to eject!" Maverick shouted out Goose's name again, but he just heard heavily breathing.

Rooster try to pull out the eject but it stuck, his Jet spinning faster, out of control, and his engine exploded.

"EJECT!" Rooster shout out but the explosion hit his head, the canopy debris got in his head when he pull the chute open.

"ROOSTER!" Maverick shout out his name when he saw Bradley get blasted by the engine that explode. "Bradley!" He tries to talk to him over the radio but no response. He waits for a few minutes but no sign of Bradley.

"Dagger one you have to go back to the ship, we're gonna send a rescue team," The crew told him over the Radio but he ignored it. He thrust his jet to where Bradley jet just exploded "Dagger one. Dagger o-" Maverick pull his ejection and let his jet hit the tree in the forest.

Maverick landed on the snow, he released his chute straps and begin to walk finding Bradley.

"Bradley!, Bradley!, Bradley!" He shouts out his name trying to gain his response but no sign of him.

After several minutes of walking, he saw the burning of Jet debris, he ran on the thick snow towards debris.

Besides them, there's laying Bradley Bradshaw in his blood, the white snow beneath him turning to red colour with his blood. Maverick stared at the scene with wide eyes. He ran as fast as he can towards him. "Oh no no no no".

He sits down beside him and pulls off Bradley helmet. When he touches Bradley's head in the back, his hand is covered in blood. His hand trembling "Oh shit, Rooster!" his voice filled with fear. He releases Bradley from his chute strap. He tries to feel the beat on his neck but no beating. Maverick eyes begin to glisten.

"Wake up, son, wake up" Maverick opens Bradley's flight suit and tries to give him a chest compressor.

"Please wake up. Don't leave me here" His tears begin to stream down his cheeks. He breathing heavily. "C'mon C'mon, Son, don't leave me here" Maverick begin to cry over Bradley's corpse.

"Bradley, Rooster, Bradshaw" He shake Bradley body but no response from him.

"Rooster, Talk to me" Maverick placed Bradley's head in his lap. He hugs Bradley's corpse in his arms and begins to rock him back and forth. He muttered sorry to him.

He then let out a heartbreaking cry, an anguished cry that whoever heard him, he know how broken his heart is.

"Bradley.."

One hour later, a copper flew in the sky above them. He didn't bother to look at it, he just hold Bradley's corpse tightly in his arms. He doesn't bother with Bradley's blood soaking his suit. He hold his lifeless body like he would wake up anytime soon.

A group of rescue came to them with a harness. "Sir, it's alright" one of the rescuers tries to take Bradley from Maverick, but he has a death grip on Bradley.

"Sir, it's alright, you have to let him go" He tries again to pry Bradley free from Maverick grasp, but Maverick glare at him and the rescuer step back. They stood there watching Maverick hold Bradley's lifeless body

"Rooster, talk to me" Maverick muttered to himself but Rooster was already dead. Rooster already left them. Left him, left his daughter, left his grandson. Rooster is no longer with them. And it's all his fault. He Once Again has to live a life of guilty with his daughter.

***

The hardest part for Maverick after Goose's death is telling Carole that his husband not coming back, telling Bradley that his Daddy not coming back, that Goose has die.

But, when Goose dies, he's not the one that has to tell Carole and Bradley.

He saw the damage to Carole after Goose died. He saw how broken Carole is, He saw Carole like half of her life is gone. And he has to see all of that in his daughter any soon.

Maverick stood on the porch of (Y/N) and Bradley's house. When they rescue him, the sun already goes down, they flew him the next morning to Miramar. Bradley's corpse is still on the base to get prepared before get send to his house.

Maverick took a deep breath. He try to keep his tears at bay, but every time he saw the door, tears gonna spilt down his cheeks. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat. He walked towards the front door and knock on it several times.

This hours (Y/N) is probably busy preparing breakfast for James and her, she then will take James to Penny whilst she goes to work.

His hand stopped in mid-air when (Y/N) open the door for him. She wearing her blue scrub.

"Dad, What're you doing." (Y/N) smile at him, but when she saw his longing look, she furrowed her eyebrows at Maverick.

"Hey, sweetie" Maverick forced a smile, he can't contain his cry, and his voice cracked every time he speak.

"Dad, what happens? Came in" she asked him with concern. She then opens the door for him and steps aside to let him in.

****

(Y/N) walked towards the living room with Maverick hot in her tail.

"If you want to meet James, he's still asleep though, but he'll gonna wake up soon" She shrugs her arms and sits down on the couch. Maverick just stood in front of her with his shoulder slumped. She furrowed her eyebrows at him. She then stand up and placed her hand on Maverick bicep.

"Dad, what's wrong? Are you okay?" She asked with concern. Maverick lips tremble and he burst into tears. He hug (Y/N) and muttered sorry to her.

"I'm sorry sweetie, I'm sorry" He hugs (Y/N) so tight that it is almost hard to breathe. Her furrowed eyebrows are more prominent now. She hugs him back and holds him. "Shush Dad, what's wrong, please talk to me" (Y/N) rubbing her hand up and down on Maverick's back. His body shaking whilst he crying.

Then it hit her, Maverick is here, but Bradley isn't here. Bradley always comes straight away after the mission is finished. Maverick is back, but Bradley doesn't call her when he has done with the mission. Maverick visited her, crying, looked guilty, and muttered sorry to her.

"Dad please, tell me, tell me, he just hurt, he's in the hospital right now, he just hurt" (Y/N) asked him rapidly, her eyes beginning to water. But Maverick just shook his head at her shoulder.

"Dad, please, he's okay, isn't he? He's coming back right?" Her voice trembles and tears begin to stream down her face.

"I'm sorry, sweetie," Maverick muttered to her. (Y/N) begin to break down. She let out sobbing. Her knees were weak, If Maverick doesn't hold her, she'll gonna fall to the floor.

"Sweetheart, sweetheart please sit down" Maverick bring her to the couch and sits her down. He places her head in his lap and (Y/N) circles her arms at Maverick's waist. She cries on his lap.

***

Maverick stroke his daughter's hair, and he lets her cry on him. He on the other hand can't stop himself from crying. This is her favourite position whenever she broke down or is sad. When she has her first heartbreak, when she has her first fight with Bradley, or when she got sad watching The Blind Side.

He waits for her to calm down. When she calmed down, Mav turn her head to face him. He wipe her daughter's tears, he examined her face, her eyes were bloodshot, and her cheeks and nose is red colour. He kiss his daughter's forehead and muttered sorry to her.

(Y/N) lift her body to a sitting position.

"Came here" Maverick brought (Y/N) to his embrace and hold her.

"Why did he leave me, Dad? He promise to come back" Maverick just hold her, he doesn't know what to say, he just kisses her hair and muttered sorry to her.

"What I'm supposed to say to James? Oh God James, he's gonna miss his dad so much" he rubs her arms up and down. Mention of James, his tears begin to fall again.

"Tell me dad? Did he in pain?" (Y/N) lift her head to look at Maverick.

"He looked so peaceful, sweetie." Mav brushed (Y/N) hair that got in her cheeks.

"I want to see his body" Her bottom lip trembled.

"I'm gonna brought you to the base, he's there now." Maverick nodded at her as a sign of promise. (Y/N) bury her face on Maverick's chest and she cries again.

"Mommy" a little voice called out from the bottom of the stairs. James wearing his Rooster pyjamas with Alex the Lion in his arms. He rubs his little fist to his eyes.

"Hey sweetheart" (Y/N) stand up and walked towards James, she pick him up and placed him on her hips. James looked at her with concern."Why you crwing, Mommy?" He touched (Y/N) cheek.

"Oh, Papa Mav just told me a sad story sweetheart" (Y/N) wipe her tears with her sleeve.

"Hey, Pilot" James whipped his head to the sound and Maverick waved to him. "Papa Mav" James grinned at him and he wiggled in (Y/N) arms and run towards Maverick.

Maverick brought him to his lap. "Why you crwing too Papa Mav" James wipe Maverick cheek with his sleeve

"The sad story got me too" Maverick forced a smile.

"Don't worry, I'll tell you a funny story that dad told me before, you and mommy" (Y/N) covered her mouth with her hand to contain her crying. She turns around and lets herself cry in her hand.

"Oh really? Sound good, Pilot" Maverick kisses James' forehead. He spitting image of Bradley. James giggles at Maverick and kisses his cheek.

"Mommy, I'm hungry" James called her mother, (Y/N) wiped her tears and turn around to face him. She forces smile. She bends down to level with him on Maverick lap. "Okay, could you wait with Papa Mav here, I'm gonna prepare for your breakfast" she stroked his hair.

"Okay Mommy" James nodded, (Y/N) kissing his forehead and muttering "I love you sweetheart" to him.

"I love you too Mommy." James kisses (Y/N) cheek in response.

****

(Y/N) walked towards the bathroom to wash her face. When she was inside the bathroom, she stood in front of the sink. She begin to cry again, she tilted her head down and begin to sob loudly, her shoulder shook, and her tears hit the positive pregnancy test in the sink.

429 notes · View notes

roosterforme · 8 months

Text

Batting Practice Part 32 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley understands more each day what it means to be Everett's dad. He's ready to do all of the fun father and son stuff, along with the important things that will keep Everett safe and happy. The three of you are ready to become the Bradshaws.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, fighting

Length: 3500 words

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

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

The white board on your refrigerator had been updated by Everett. There was only one day left until Bradley was going to adopt him, and your body was thrumming with anticipation. The three of you were about to become the Bradshaws, for real.

Your husband made your home so much warmer. His big shoes were lined up next to yours and Everett's inside the front door. His schedule was hanging next to the white board so he knew which days he needed to wear his flight suit. His favorite beer was in a battle for precious real estate against your cold brew coffee. For someone who claimed he never had a real home before this since his mom died, he was doing a great job of making yours even better.

"We're heading to the park for a bit," Bradley said, wrapping his arm casually around your waist from behind as you made dinner. "We'll be back in less than an hour." He kissed the side of your neck and held you snug against him for a beat. "I love you."

How was living without him ever supposed to compete with this? You turned and watched him take Everett by the hand, and they walked out to the Bronco talking a mile a minute about math homework and batting averages.

You were trying to make a special dinner, because Molly was coming over with Bob. He'd arrived back in San Diego earlier this morning, and Molly texted you to let you know she was taking Bob home for a long nap, and then they would be over. A long nap sounded like a euphemism for some freaky sex, but you were just pleased that he was back and that Molly was happy.

Your sister and Bob walked in at the same time that Bradley and Everett returned from the park. "Uncle Bob! I missed you!" your son shouted, running across the living room to his former tee ball coach and perhaps someday uncle. Bob knelt down and collected him in a tight hug. "And Aunt Molly missed you so much. She ate a lot of chocolate and cried sometimes."

You watched Bob glance up at Molly with such a lovesick expression, you had to turn away. "I missed you too, Ev," he replied. "And I missed your Aunt Molly and the baby. I heard you shared your candy with her."

"I did," he said proudly as you walked dinner over to the dining room table. Bradley pulled Bob into a brief hug, and then you kissed him softly on the cheek.

"How was your deployment? Uneventful, I hope?" you asked him with a smile.

"Another woman kissed him," Molly said, casually slipping into her usual seat and scooping food onto her plate as you gasped. "He doesn't understand how handsome he is."

"Mo," Bob groaned, sliding down in the seat next to her while his cheeks flushed pink. "Why are you telling them this?"

You made eye contact with Bradley across the room, and he shrugged, just as confused as you were. "Is everything okay?" you asked cautiously.

But Bob was kissing Molly's fingertips as she ran her nose along his cheek as if she hadn't just made that announcement to the room. They still looked as in love as they always did, and Molly's face was placid as she started scooping dinner onto Everett's plate.

"Everything's fine," Bob said, nodding at you. "I had no idea anything like that could even happen. I'll be more proactive in the future."

"Yes," Molly agreed. "No more gray sweatpants on deployments. We both learned our lesson."

"Gray sweatpants?" you asked as you sat down across from Molly. "You wore gray sweatpants in front of someone other than Molly?"

Bob cradled his face in embarrassment, pinching his nose just below his glasses. "I did. I told you it was a bad idea from the start, Honey," he whispered to Molly.

"You wore them in public?!" Bradley nearly shouted. "Bob, that's bedroom attire."

"I know that now," Bob bit back. "Nothing happened. Nothing else is ever going to happen. Can we eat dinner and stop talking about it?" he asked, wrapping his arm around Molly's shoulder. "I missed being here. I'm happy I made it back in time for Bradley and Everett's big day. I just want to be with my family."

Molly pecked him on the cheek. "You're hot, Cowboy Bob. You can't afford the luxury of making late night friends on deployments. It doesn't matter who they are, they probably want to fuck you."

"Molly!" you growled, tossing your fork down and glaring at her as you nodded to Everett.

But your son just shrugged. "It's okay. I already heard dad say it before. I know it's an adult word. It's cool."

Bradley noisily dished more food onto everyone's plates as you shook your head at him. "This is delicious, Kitten. Wow, you've outdone yourself. You want more, Molly? Have some more."

You closed your eyes and sighed. Bradley and Molly were more similar than they'd like to think. And Bob was definitely a catch even if he didn't feel like one. And you were too thankful for all of them to put up much of a fuss. "After we eat, let's talk about a game plan for tomorrow."

"Adoption day," Everett said, all smiles for Bradley.

"I love you, Ev," your husband told him, scooping a little more food onto his plate. You could tell your son would never get tired of hearing that, and neither would you.

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

"Are you guys nervous?" you asked as Bradley pulled into the municipal parking lot behind the courthouse.

"Nope," Bradley and Everett replied in unison. Bradley was ready for this. Any apprehension he'd felt leading up to this afternoon was related to Danny, but your lawyer assured you that there would be no contest over the state of Everett's adoption.

"I'm a little nervous," you muttered, wrapping your hand around Bradley's after he turned the key in the ignition. "Why aren't Molly and Bob here yet?"

"We're early, Kitten," he muttered, leaning across the seat to give you a kiss. He turned around to smile at Ev, sitting in his booster seat. They were wearing matching blue dress shirts and jeans, and Everett was holding his Phillies cap. "Hey, kiddo. When I drop you off at school tomorrow, I'll bring the paperwork so they know it's okay for you to write Everett Bradshaw on your homework, okay?"

Everett nodded in response. "And do you think my teacher will change the name tag on my desk? I don't like my old name anymore."

You unbuckled your seatbelt and snuggled against his chest as Bradley said, "I'll make sure it gets changed. It's not going to be an issue."

The three of you sat there for a couple minutes as Bradley rubbed your back. He answered every question Everett asked him.

"What was your dad's name again? And didn't he have a call sign too? Was your mom's last name Bradshaw? How many Bradshaws are there?"

If only they could be here today, Bradley was sure he would get to see his mom doting on Everett. Goose would have been all too happy to spread the Bradshaw name around. He knew his parents would be proud of him. "My dad was Nick Bradshaw, and his call sign was Goose." Everett giggled, and Bradley laughed too. "It's even sillier than Rooster, huh?"

"I like my call sign better than the bird ones," Everett said.

"Me too," Bradley whispered, registering that you were wiping your eyes. "Goose would have liked it the most."

"Grampa Goose would have liked my call sign?" Everett asked in surprise, and Bradley nodded silently, taking a few breaths to steady himself.

"Grampa Goose would have liked everything about you."

"Bradley," you whispered, squeezing him tight. His heart could only take so much before he started crying, too. So he kissed your forehead and wiped your cheeks.

"Let's start heading inside," he whispered. "Molly and Bob will be here soon, I'm sure."

When he opened his door and stepped out into the afternoon sunlight, Bradley's eyes met Danny's from several cars away. He tried to ignore your ex husband as he scooped Everett out of the booster seat and set him down. He tried his best to avoid him until everyone went inside. But as you walked around the Bronco and took Ev's hand in yours, Bradley heard Danny laugh sardonically.

"It's about time. I was worried you were backing out of getting this kid off my hands. I really don't feel like paying child support."

Bradley's vision wavered. He could hear a high pitched buzzing in his ears. He wanted nothing more than to permanently wipe that smirk off of Danny's face as he slammed the driver's door closed.

"What did you just say to me?" Bradley snarled, rolling his neck as he strolled toward Danny.

"You heard me just fine," he replied, squaring his shoulders and smirking. "But I wouldn't have blamed you for backing out. She's an annoying handful even without the kid. Should have used two condoms." But when Bradley got right up into his personal space, Danny started to look a little scared.

Bradley had some weight on him, and he could take a few punches, no problem. His jaw flexed and he curled his hands into fists as he said, "Don't you fucking dare talk about my family like that."

Chest to chest, he pushed Danny back against an SUV. Bradley could hear you calling his name, panic lacing your voice, but he couldn't stop now. Rage flowed through his body. If Danny didn't punch him, he was most definitely going to be the one to do it.

"Your family is a joke," Danny said softly. "You tried sleeping with her sister yet?"

That was it. Bradley shoved him with his left hand as he drew back his right fist, but before he could do much of anything else, strong arms wrapped around him from behind and pinned his arms to his sides. Bob's voice was in his ear as he tried his best to pull Bradley backwards.

"Come on, Rooster. You don't want to do this. Ev is watching."

Bradley let Bob yank him a few more feet away from Danny, and then he turned to see you, Ev and Molly all standing by the Bronco looking terrified.

"You're not fucking worth it, you piece of shit," Bradley told Danny who was still smiling like a prick.

"Thanks for giving me the best day of my life," he replied, straightening out his shirt and winking. Bob kept a good hold on Bradley until Danny was inside the courthouse.

"You okay?" he asked, and Bradley shook him off. The thing was this really was the best day of Bradley's life. Or maybe the second best. Either way, he didn't want to ruin it now.

"Yeah," he replied, his voice rough with emotion. And then he was scooping Everett into his arms. "I'm sorry, kiddo. I didn't mean to scare you."

"I don't like my old dad," he replied softly, wrapping his arms around Bradley's neck.

"I promise, this is the last time you'll ever have to see him." Everett nodded against Bradley's shoulder as he leaned down and pressed his forehead to yours. "I'm sorry, Kitten."

"I don't want you to get in trouble, Bradley," you said, voice shaky. "He's not even worth it."

"I know," he replied softly, kissing your cheek and nodding at Bob. "He's so horrible, I can't understand how Ev is perfect."

You kind of shrugged and said, "It's like he was never there, Coach. It was like we were just waiting for you the whole time. You were tailor made for us."

Bradley wore those words with pride as Bob held the door open, and he carried Everett inside the courthouse behind you and Molly. He didn't even look at Danny again. Instead he focused on his son and his wife. He let Molly distract him. He kept his arms wrapped around Everett until the judge called them all up to the front of the room.

And then it was scary how fast everything moved. It was unsettling how easily Danny announced to the entire fucking room that he wanted nothing to do with Everett. He didn't want his own son. Bradley listened to him say, "I contest nothing. I relinquish all of my rights."

And even though Bradley knew Everett was excited that he was being adopted, those words from his biological father packed a punch. Maybe Everett didn't understand their full meaning yet, but Bradley definitely did.

When the judge asked Bradley to confirm that he wanted to adopt Everett, he reached for Ev's hand. This perfect kid was looking right up at him with innocent, trusting eyes and a worried expression. Bradley felt your hand on his back, and he could hear you crying softly.

"Do you want to adopt your wife's child?" the judge asked again.

Did he want to? More than anything. He could hardly believe he was even allowed to do something so grand and meaningful. It was hard for him to acknowledge that Everett wanted him.

"Yes, I want to adopt you, Everett. I can't wait to be your dad. It kind of feels like I've already been your dad for months and months, kiddo."

That sweet face erupted into a bright smile. "Yeah, it's been a good couple of months, Coach."

Bradley laughed in spite of himself, and he felt your hand drop down to lace fingers with him. "The best. And now it's going to be forever. Yes, I want to adopt you." Then he turned to kiss your forehead before looking at the judge. "Yes, I want to adopt Everett."

"And you'll take full, permanent legal custody?"

"Yes. Happily." He smiled down at Everett before scooping him up with his right arm while still holding your hand with his left. He felt his eyes prickle with the feeling of unshed tears when Ev wrapped his arms around his neck, just knowing he'd be safe and loved.

"Then I grant Bradley Bradshaw full legal custody."

Even though Bradley expected to hear those words today, he felt his tears finally give way. "I love you," he whispered, burying his face against Everett. "Thanks for letting me be your dad."

Then Bradley's lips were on yours, and you wrapped your arms around both of them. And Bradley hadn't felt this much love since he was a little boy. He was getting a second chance at having a perfect little family of three. And he'd do everything he could to keep this feeling.

"Thank you, Kitten," he gasped, letting you wipe his tears away with your soft fingertips. Bradley was vaguely aware that Danny had quickly signed a few papers and turned to stroll out of the courtroom, just going along with his day like none of this was important. But it was important to Bradley. And it was important to Everett. And he refused to release his grip on you or his son as he signed his own set of paperwork a little awkwardly fumbling the pen a bit.

"That's it?" he asked the clerk who collected the paperwork. "I'm his dad now, for real? He can change his last name to Bradshaw?"

And Bradley got the perfect response. "That's it. He's your son."

"He's my son!" Bradley shouted, releasing your hand and hugging a happy, giggling Everett. "He's my son." He carried Everett across the room to where Molly had tears streaming down her cheeks as she held Bob's hand.

"You know, I'm not even going to call you a turd for the rest of the day," she sobbed, reaching up to give Bradley a kiss on the cheek. "I'm happy for you, Ev," she told her nephew. "We were pretty good before, but we're better with Bradley."

"And Uncle Bob," Everett added, reaching out to give Bob a high five.

"Yes," Molly agreed, "and Uncle Bob." She looked up at her boyfriend with adoration. "I love my family."

Bradley loved this family, too. And he was never going to stop talking about it. And he was never going to set Everett down. And he was never going to stop doting on the two of you.

"I can't believe you're really ours now," you whispered as tears shone in your eyes. "Officially."

"You're the loves of my life, Kitten. Both of you."

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

As Bradley settled into a chair at the table with the paper tablecloth and crayons, he kept Everett on his lap. He didn't need to look at the menu. You already knew what kind of pizza and beer everyone liked. When the waitress came to take the order, Bradley added, "And some apple juice for my son, please."

And next thing he knew, Molly was crying in the seat across from him, insisting they were all just happy tears. And then Nat showed up with a bunch of balloons that said #1 DAD. And you kept calling him Everett's father and leaning in to kiss him.

"Stop, please," Bradley said, holding a napkin underneath the piece of pizza that Everett was eating. He caught the sauce before it dripped onto Ev's lap and added, "I can only take so much before I start crying again."

He had cried in the Bronco on the way to the restaurant. Then he cried harder when Everett asked him, "Why are you crying, dad?" And now he felt those same happy tears once again.

"I think it's sweet," you told him with a soft smile. "All the tears."

"I'm barely holding it together, Kitten," he whispered, catching more of Everett's sauce on the napkin. "It's overwhelming."

When everyone was finished eating, there was a battle over who was going to pay. Bradley watched everyone pull out their wallets and credit cards, a cacophony erupting about why each person wanted to treat him to his first dinner as a dad. But he stood up, still holding onto Everett. "I want to pay!" he said, letting Everett stand on the empty chair next to him. "Because until very recently, I never knew how badly I needed to treat my family to a pizza night." He took a deep breath and sighed. "Nat, you've been my friend and family for the longest. And I love you for that."

She smiled at him and nodded. "Love you too, Bradshaw."

Bradley reached out a hand to fist bump Bob. "And then Bob became a friend that morphed into family, all because of tee ball. And now I have a sister-in-law who likes to pick on me relentlessly. You better marry him, Molly."

She just kind of shrugged, but Bradley didn't miss the coy smile on her lips. "We'll see."

Then Bradley turned to you and leaned down to kiss your lips. "I never thought I'd have a sister-in-law, because I never thought I'd be lucky enough to get married in the first place. But I love you, Kitten. I'm gonna love you forever. Both of you."

"You're the best thing that ever happened to us, Coach," you whispered, brushing your lips against his again.

And then Bradley turned his attention to Everett. "But you've made me feel complete, kiddo. A son? On top of everything else? It doesn't seem possible. But I can't wait to do all the father and son stuff."

Then Everett simply said, "I love you, dad."

"I love you, too."

Bradley paid for dinner and carried his son out to the parking lot. And the whole way home, he held your hand. "What do the two of you think about Disney World for winter break? Or we could go to Phillies spring training? But we don't want to risk missing Ev's cousin being born. So I was thinking a trip to Philadelphia next summer instead? Maybe catch a Phillies doubleheader, meet the Phanatic, and eat some cheesesteaks. Just the three of us."

"Yes!" Everett cheered from the backseat, pumping his fists in the air. "I can get the Phanatic to sign my baseball card!"

"Well?" Bradley asked you as he pulled into the driveway while Everett sang the Phillie Phanatic song. "What do you wanna do, Kitten?"

You unbuckled yourself and crawled across the seat, wrapping your arms around his neck, and Bradley melted into your touch. Your lips brushed his, and he smiled as you said, "Anything. As long as it's the three of us."

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

THE BRADSHAWS! It has been a pleasure writing and posting this series for the past seven months! I loved all of the comments and reblogs and feedback. Part 33 will be the epilogue! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and thank you for the banner @mak-32

PART 33

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

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@harper1666

@throwinsauce

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@callsign-jupiter

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@andycanbeemotional

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@starlightstories

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@xoxabs88xox

734 notes · View notes