#he had a hawaiian shirt n jorts

[radical-rapscallion]

met this guy at the halloween story and Good Fucking God Am I Gay

[thesewordsareallihavetogive]

That's My Wife - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x airline pilot!reader

Summary: 3.2k words. Rooster and his coworkers drew the short stick and ended up on a commercial civilian flight across the country for specialty flight training in Key West. A certain someone makes the flight and travel woes well worth the trouble for Bradley.

Warnings: none really, just tons of fluff! maybe some cursing & frequent usage of she/her pronouns for the reader

a/n: hi!! i posted a little snippet/preview of this fic last night and def did not expect it to get as much attention as it did. i'm so happy that so many of you were just as excited as me to see the finished product! i hope y'all enjoy it! <3

master list

An advanced specialty flight training at the Naval Air Station in Key West had the best aviators in the U.S. military flocking to the vibrant Florida island. This, of course, included Top Gun’s best graduates.

Rooster, Phoenix, and Hangman all had impressive reputations before the Uranium Plant mission led by Maverick. After that mission? They were nothing short of living legends in the Navy. So, naturally, they were among the pilots being sent out for the rigorous training.

The Navy couldn’t rationalize sending a private charter plane or wasting the fuel needed to transport just a few pilots to a base thousands of miles away, so the three aviators were sent on a commercial flight. Phoenix, Hangman, and Rooster got to experience the joys of civilian travel–long security lines through TSA, insufferably stressed-out travelers, and the overwhelming urge to get wasted at the bar conveniently located near their gate.

Hangman joked that if Rooster weren’t in uniform and instead wearing his typical Hawaiian shirts and jorts, he would’ve fit right in with the other passengers. Phoenix, who gave in and treated herself to a glass of wine, snorted before adding that Rooster was uptight enough then to blend in seamlessly.

Bradley would never admit it, but they were probably right. His one consolation was the smile his boarding pass brought to his face. The airline they were traveling with was familiar to Rooster to say the least.

The three aviators received priority boarding as active-duty military personnel. They sat at the very front of the cabin and Phoenix took the opportunity to people-watch as the rest of the passengers boarded. Hangman busied himself with looking into which Key West nightclubs and bars he could hit up after training while Rooster sent a quick text.

2:37 p.m.  Hey, baby. Just boarded the flight to Key West. I’ll talk to you when we land 😘 – Brad

2:38 p.m.  Have a safe flight, babe 😉💗 – y/n

Rooster chuckled at y/n’s use of a winking emoji before he turned his phone off and slipped it into his pocket. The flight attendants moved down the center aisle to begin their safety demonstration. Rooster was certain he’d sat through the same speech a thousand times, so he got comfortable and closed his eyes to take a nap.

A crackling from the plane’s speakers preceded what Rooster anticipated to be another relatively boring announcement.

“Good afternoon and welcome aboard, everyone. This is your Captain speaking,” an upbeat feminine voice floated through the aircraft’s speakers. Bradley’s eyes shot open wide and he sat up straight at the sound. He’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“No way…” he whispered to himself with a surprised smile.

Phoenix and Hangman shared a side-eye glance once they noticed the sudden change in Rooster’s demeanor. The man previously looked bored out of his mind and now he was hanging on to every word of the announcement. A wide grin spread across Rooster’s face while the pilot continued her introduction. As they taxied toward the runway, Hangman’s curiosity got the better of him.

“What is it, Bradshaw?” Jake asked with a raised brow. The bastard couldn’t help but be nosy. Phoenix softly elbowed Hangman in the ribs, but she certainly wasn’t tuning the conversation out. Rooster confidently squared his shoulders and turned to look at them.

“That’s my wife,” Rooster stated proudly, referring to the captain’s voice with a grin.

Hangman’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head and Phoenix leaned back with an impressed smile. Rooster’s fellow aviators knew he was married; hell, he wore his wedding ring like a badge of honor. He was quick to reject the frequent flirting he received and would simply raise his left ring finger whenever he was asked out at The Hard Deck–the man was nothing if not loyal. But Rooster was never the type to speak about his personal life at work, much less mention that his wife is also a pilot.

In fact, the only person Rooster worked with that knew anything about y/n was Maverick. Bradley introduced them to each other a few months after they started dating. The younger Navy man knew by the end of their second date that y/n was it for him. It took y/n a little longer to come to the same conclusion, but once she did she never looked back.

Actually, it was Maverick that helped y/n realize just how head-over-heels in love she was with Bradley. He brought y/n to meet his stand-in father figure at Mav’s hanger. In the middle of y/n and Maverick geeking out about all the memorabilia displayed in the hanger and trading flight stories, Rooster ran out to silence his Ford Bronco’s ancient and overly-sensitive car alarm. Pete took the opportunity to let y/n know just how whipped his godson was. “I haven’t seen him this happy in a long time, y/n. He’s bailed on our dinner plans at least three times in the past month just to get a chance to see you when you’re in the area.” Maverick smiled and clasped y/n’s shoulder. “You’re good for him. I hope he’s good for you too.”

And the rest was history. Just after their one year anniversary, Bradley got down on one knee in the middle of a crowded airport after they spent three full weeks apart. y/n flung herself into Bradley’s arms, foregoing the ring entirely and pressed her lips against his before she said “yes, yes, a thousand times yes.” Maverick was one of the few people at their wedding. It was small and intimate–just how y/n and Rooster liked it. Their relationship wasn’t a secret by any means, but they preferred things to be private.

Rooster returned from his trip down memory lane as y/n reached the end of her airline spiel. Her simultaneous light-hearted bubbly tone and professional manner had Bradley sporting a sweet smile.

“Before we take off, there’s an additional announcement I’d like to make.” Rooster perked up. y/n was going off-script. “A little birdie told me that some very special Navy aviators are on board with us today,” y/n’s voice came through the speakers, pride seeping into her tone.

Phoenix and Hangman exchanged amused smirks before staring right at Rooster. In a different scenario, the sudden attention focused on him might’ve made him uncomfortable, but he couldn’t care less right now. His wife, whom he hadn’t seen in over a week, was just steps away and he would be able to hold her in his arms again soon.

“Thank you for your service, lady and gents,” y/n finished sincerely. A polite applause filled the aircraft, bringing appreciative smiles to the aviators’ faces. Rooster wasn’t surprised that y/n somehow found out they were on her flight; he knew better than anyone that she was particularly skilled at getting what she wanted, evidently including private passenger information.

With their busy schedules and unpredictable jobs, y/n and Rooster would sometimes go weeks without seeing each other. y/n was gaining seniority in her airline, so she was able to pick and choose her flights sometimes–all of which she strategically planned to be able to visit her husband. When they were on opposite sides of the country, or even the world, it was harder to align their schedules for just a phone call. 

A few nights ago, they had synced-up free time and they didn’t waste a minute. Despite the time zone differences, they talked on the phone for hours. Bradley told y/n about his upcoming week of specialty training at the Naval Air Station in Key West. Since there was no pressing mission or deployment, the Navy was opting to send Rooster and his coworkers on a commercial flight rather than coordinate Navy transport. y/n hummed and checked her schedule while they talked. Lo and behold, she would be piloting a flight from San Diego to Key West later that week. Specifically, Rooster’s flight.

y/n didn’t let on anything about their upcoming flight during the phone call, she wanted it to be a surprise. If there was anything being a commercial passenger pilot taught her, it was how to make sure no one suspected anything was wrong while she spoke into her headset mic. Once, she had to make an announcement to casually address turbulence despite her internal panic while she discreetly manually redistributed fuel between engines when the automatic fuel system failed on a cross-country flight.

The very next morning following Rooster and y/n’s phone call, she pulled a few strings at work and was able to glance at the passenger details for the upcoming direct SAN to EYW flight.

Seat 1D: Lt. Bradley Bradshaw

Seat 1E: Lt. Natasha Trace

Seat 1F: Lt. Jake Seresin

If any policies or procedures were violated in the process of y/n finding the answer to her burning question, no one batted an eye. After all, she was quite possibly the most beloved pilot in her airline. So, that’s how she found out exactly which of Rooster’s coworkers would be accompanying him.

As the plane sped down the runway, quickly gaining enough momentum for take-off, Bradley and y/n both fiddled with their wedding rings. It was a habit they’d developed independently, ironically enough.

y/n’s ascent into the air was smooth as always. Even the most nervous passengers appreciated the light-as-a-feather feeling settling over them as y/n gently reached cruising altitude. Rooster was no stranger to his wife’s expert precision and careful handling of her aircrafts. Phoenix and Hangman were thoroughly impressed by y/n’s skill and ease.

Once the fasten seatbelt lights were turned off, the flight attendants made their way down the center aisle of the plane with snack and beverage carts. Hangman didn’t hesitate to order a double shot of whiskey, earning him an incredulous look from both Rooster and Phoenix. ”What happens on this flight, stays on this flight,” he muttered, ignoring the sting in his throat after downing a third of the glass in one go. Phoenix shrugged and ordered herself another glass of wine. Rooster rolled his eyes at both of their antics. Before he could place his own order, the flight attendant addressed him directly.

“Lieutenant Bradshaw? Captain Bradshaw has requested to see you in the cockpit.” Rooster stood up without hesitation, a wide smile on his face. Hangman’s jaw dropped, a small huff escaping his mouth and Phoenix swatted his chest. Before making the short trek to the cockpit, he bought a bag of gummy worms from the snack cart. 

He gently rapped his knuckles against the door before slipping inside and shutting the door behind him. y/n didn’t hear Bradley enter the cockpit over her headset, but she instantly recognized his warm cologne. She whipped around and smiled wide at him, taking her co-pilot by surprise. The co-pilot offered to take over and y/n gladly accepted the offer.

y/n typically didn’t haphazardly hop out of her seat while piloting a massive plane with over 200 passengers, but for Bradley, she’d make an exception. She all but threw herself into his arms, sending them both stumbling back a few steps. Rooster gently pulled y/n’s headset off, careful not to mess up her neatly styled hair, before capturing her lips in a searing kiss. y/n’s co-pilot pretended not to notice, but the embarrassed blush spreading across his cheeks gave him away. When y/n pulled away to catch her breath, Bradley pulled her closer and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“How’d you know we’d be on your flight?” he asked, brushing some hair away from his wife’s face.

“I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,” y/n teased with a wink. Rooster was no stranger to y/n’s scheming, but it typically worked out to his advantage so he could live without knowing the details.

She all but did a happy dance at 34,000 feet in the air when Bradley pulled out the pack of gummy worms he hid in his pocket. y/n had admitted on more than one occasion she often got the munchies on longer flights with only stale peanuts to hold her over. She leaned against her husband’s chest and tore into the package of sugary goodness, offering a few gummy worms to her co-pilot in exchange for him swearing to secrecy.

The plane shuddered from a brief pocket of turbulence–one that y/n would’ve handled better, Rooster thought. Bradley braced himself against the wall and pulled y/n against his body to keep her from falling.

“Do you remember the first time we were in the cockpit of a plane together?” Rooster asked with a reminiscent smile. That first experience was undoubtedly more harrowing then the current one. y/n chuckled at the memory.

“I could never forget it, honey,” y/n smiled back, pressing a kiss to his cheek before offering him a gummy worm. The couple stood comfortable in silence for a few minutes, arms wrapped around each other. With the amount of time they spent apart, every moment they got together was precious. Even if they were simply holding each other in the cramped cockpit of an airplane.

y/n’s attention was pulled away from Bradley when a warning light lit up on the dashboard, accompanied by a shrill beeping. Her co-pilot turned back to her, silently signaling that she was needed back in the pilot seat. With a heavy sigh, she untangled herself from Bradley’s arms and pressed a final peck to his lips with a promised “I’ll see you later, baby.”

Rooster watched his wife climb in her well-deserved pilot seat and slip her headset back on. She switched back to her professional demeanor with an impressive ease as she worked to remedy the dash’s highlighted issue.

He wordlessly slipped out of the cockpit and back to his seat. Hangman, who was on the brink of tipsy after his strong whiskey, lost all sense of discretion as Rooster sat back down in his seat.

“Bradshaw, you sly dog. Was the Missus excited to see you?” Hangman poked, focusing on the lipstick print adorning Rooster’s cheek. Phoenix passed Rooster a napkin with a grin of her own. Bradley rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile.

With just an hour left in the flight, y/n handed all the controls over to her co-pilot so she could stretch her legs. Lucky for her, her husband was seated just outside of the cockpit. Whoever booked the seats for the aviators knew what they were doing; Bradley Bradshaw was too tall for his own good, something y/n reminded him of frequently. Ironically enough, she never brought up that teasing point when she needed help reaching something around the house or when they went grocery shopping. The point is, being seated at the very front of the cabin gave Bradley sufficient room for his long legs.

y/n slipped out of the cockpit as inconspicuously as possible. She learned from past experience that passengers tended to freak out when they saw pilots, well, not piloting in the cockpit while the plane was airborne. y/n smiled softly as she took in the sight of her husband quietly snoring with his head leaned back against the chair and mouth wide open. She thought about taking a photo, but she was nearly positive Jake Seresin already had based on the devious grin on his face.

Phoenix noticed movement in the front of the cabin, her eyes eventually landing on a woman in a formal pilot uniform. Her face looked familiar. Phoenix was sure she’d seen her somewhere before. With a final squint, she realized the woman a few strides away was the same woman in all of Rooster’s locker polaroids. Mrs. Bradshaw in the flesh.

y/n offered a friendly smile to Phoenix, who seemed to have figured out who she was. Hangman was still focused on the picture he intended to eventually use for blackmail. Phoenix gently shook Rooster’s shoulder, stirring him from his nap. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes before his eyes settled on his wife.

“Good morning, Brad,” y/n cooed and reached out to grab his hand. He quickly checked his watch before pulling y/n in and kissing the back of her hand.

“Hi, baby,” he greeted with a glint in his eye. y/n chuckled, she knew he was holding himself back from calling her a smart ass while she was on the job. Hangman watched the interaction in awe. Not only did Bradshaw have a skilled pilot wife, but she was also gorgeous and witty? Jake briefly thought about asking Rooster for dating pointers.

The sleepy fog clouding Rooster’s brain cleared when he had three expectant sets of eyes on him, waiting for him to make introductions. He introduced Natasha and Jake first, citing their names and call signs, even though y/n already knew both from the stories her husband told.

“Phoenix, Hangman, this is Captain y/n Bradshaw, my wife,” Rooster finished with a warm smile. Man, he was whipped.

“Outranked by your wife, huh, Bradshaw?” Hangman jabbed harmlessly. The whiskey wore off a while ago, but Jake was always eager for an opportunity to poke fun at Rooster.

“Mmm, I outrank you as well, Lieutenant,” y/n smiled sweetly, responding without missing a beat. Phoenix chuckled and held out her hand to high-five y/n for her quick comeback. Jake was certain he heard Rooster mutter “that’s my girl,” as he looked up at his wife with a grin.

Rooster’s coworkers made small talk with y/n as she pulled her leg up behind her in a subtle stretch, using her husband’s hand to keep steady before switching sides and repeating the motion. In just the span of the few minutes y/n spent talking to Hangman and Phoenix, all of Bradley’s stories involving them made so much sense. When there was a brief lull in conversation, y/n checked her wristwatch, her eyes widening when she realized she’d been out for longer than expected.

“It was really nice to meet you guys, but I gotta get back in there,” y/n said apologetically. Hangman and Phoenix nodded in understanding, they were more than familiar with the painstaking pillar of time in aviation. Bradley gently squeezed y/n’s hand before she left, still trying to shake his nap-induced daze.

y/n turned on her heel just before reaching the cockpit door to face Bradley again.

“Are you free tonight?” y/n asked hopefully. The week-long training wasn’t scheduled to start until the following day, but she knew it wasn’t unlikely that the Navy would have Rooster busy in his spare time beforehand. His wife’s soft voice and wishful eyes were more than enough to have Bradley’s heart melting. Hell, he’d hand in his resignation as soon as the plane landed if it meant he could spend some time with y/n.

“For you? Always, baby,” Bradley smiled and winked at y/n. The captain grinned and slipped back into the cockpit, looking forward to being back on the ground with her husband.

a/n: did anyone notice the Top Gun (1986) reference 👀? anyways, i hope u liked it! pls lmk what you think, i love reading ur comments & reblogs! :)

also!! i have a bit of a prequel for how rooster & pilot!reader met in the works. i'll finish it up & post it if anyone is interested :)

[claitynroberts]

Leopard Print

Summary: What happens when Sam, Dean, and y/n get some much needed vacation time? Better yet, what goes down after Sam leaves y/n and Dean alone for the afternoon?

Warnings/Genre: Crack, Fluff. Some language and detailed description of nude forms. Sorta 18+.

Word Count: 1925

A/N: Written for @spngenrebingo, square filled is Vacation. This is a repost of an a old post since the original was eaten during the Tumblr purge that didn’t do a damn thing.

If Dean was anything, it was an opportunist; and when opportunity came knocking, he answered the damn door. Hell, if he, Sam, and y/n hadn’t saved billionaire CEO Jonathan Thomas from a djinn attack in Kentucky a few weeks ago, they wouldn’t be where they are now; sitting pretty at some private beach house miles away from civilization.

Mr. Thomas had offered it to them for a week, all expenses paid, as recompense for helping get his sorry ass out of the precarious situation he’d inadvertently become a part of. At the time he’d offered them the use of the mansion on the coast, the three hunters had been swamped with case after case, vacation being the furthest thing from their minds. With the strange but welcoming respite the lull in cases brought with it, the three hunters had some extra time on their hands and were already half-way to the promised excursion. One phone call to Mr. Thomas was all it took for Dean to gather the gang and head south.

Now, it was day three of their first vacation in...well, ever. He, Sam, and y/n quickly found and laid claim to their own corners of the house and the sprawling expanse of white sand outside, coming together for meals and the relaxing banter the cool beach evenings offered.

This morning Sam had decided to drive into town, eager to check out the local sites, museums, and libraries the cultural destination had to offer. Y/n had retired to the beach lining the ocean just in front of the large house, chair, cooler, and umbrella at the ready.

Dean had been cleaning up his dishes from lunch when he glanced out the window to see Y/n’s sun hat peeking over the back of her beach chair, her purple string bikini top hanging from the backrest and waving in the ocean breeze like a flag. As he rinsed the plate and dried his hands on the green dish towel, he smirked, a rather devious plan coming to mind. And, well, opportunity just happened to be his middle name.

He’d had a thing for y/n for a while now, but nothing had ever come of it besides some hardcore flirting and drunken make-out sessions in the dark recesses of the ratty motel rooms they frequented. Today, something just might change. Maybe.

Softly, he padded into his room and began to don the outfit he’d picked up for vacation before they left Lebanon. Moments later, after some tugging, jumping, and adjusting of the pinching fabric, he was ready. Looking in the mirror, he smirked to himself before leaving his room to walk across the large living area. As Dean stepped through the French doors and onto the back deck he was instantly met with the warm, humid air and the roar of the ocean waves. As quickly as the sand would let him, he trudged through the stark white powder, plopping down in the extra beach chair beside y/n as he fished a beer out of her cooler.

Devilishly he looked over at her as he took in her body. Her long bronzed legs were stretched out in front of her, the supple skin soaking up as many of the sun's rays as possible. Her full, rounded hips were being hugged by the dainty strings of her bikini bottoms, the modesty ending there. The golden skin of her stomach gave way to the supple flesh of her bosom, full rounded breasts basking happily in the summer sunshine. The areolas were a dark dusty rose and her nipples had become pebbled and erect from the cool ocean breeze. Shadows from the umbrella fell across her collarbones, traveling the length of her graceful neck to fall across her face. Y/n held a romance novel open in her lap as she continued her reading, never once taking in Dean’s presence.

Clearing his throat he caught her attention as a perfect eyebrow rose over her dark sunglasses and she turned her head in his direction. “Can I help you?” She asked in a sweetly, sarcastic tone.

Taking in his incredibly ridiculous getup she stifled a laugh by covering her mouth daintily with her hand. Dean was wearing a white Hawaiian-print button down with multi-colored hibiscus flowers and dark green foliage. The shirt wouldn’t have been completely awful had he not paired it with cutoff jorts, velcro sandals, and a floppy blue fishing hat. To make the scene even more comical, he completed his look with his dark ray-bans and a thick smearing of sunscreen on his nose, making him look like every stereotypical male tourist from every bad movie ever.

“Don’t you think you ought to be wearing a little, I dunno, more?” He asked making a vague motion over his own chest to communicate her lack of coverage.

“Oh my god, you’re right!” She shrieked as she looked down at her topless torso, feigning embarrassment by covering herself with her book. “Have you seen my top? I think someone stole it!” Jokingly she looked around as if it had merely fallen off her body.

“I-I think it’s on the b—.”

“I know exactly where it’s at, Dean, because I put it there.” She glowered at him in mock anger as she attempted to hold back a smirk. “It’s a private beach, and I intend to take full advantage of it.” Y/n dropped her book back down and went back to reading.

Dean attempted to come up with a line, something to throw back at her, but, instead, his mouth ended up gaping like a fish. Looking over at him, his stunned reaction caused y/n to giggle, a full-on body-wracking expression of emotion. “Why Dean, I do believe you’re speechless.” She giggled again and took a long pull of her beer.

Silently Dean stood up and began undressing. First to go were the awful dad-variety sandals, then he threw his gaudy fishing hat into the seat he had vacated. Working to undo the handful of buttons at the bottom of his shirt, he let the light fabric slide from his broad shoulders, revealing the pale, soft but muscled form below. He had a perpetual farmer’s tan from always wearing his t-shirts and flannels, resulting in just his forearms, neck, and face being a deep sun kissed bronze.

“What’re you doing?” Y/n asked, all hint of teasing gone, curiosity taking its place.

“I just thought I’d go for a swim instead of sitting here being insulted by you.” He grinned at her as his hands moved toward the fly of his jorts.

“Oh really, now?” She asked, a bit of mirth returning to her voice as his hands stilled their progress. “Do you know how much sand you’ll get in your cracks and crevices just from being out there? Furthermore, do you understand how hard it is to remove it all? You’d be better off taking a dip in the pool.”

He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment before a wide grin split his face. “Well maybe you can help me take care of that later, but right now, I’m going to go swim in the ocean. It’s our first vacation in years. I’m going to enjoy this.” He smiled at her as he made quick work of his fly and dropped the denim abomination to the sand.

Y/n dropped her book as she used both hands to try and hold in the laugh that threatened to rip out of her chest at the sight of Dean in his swimwear. “You like?” He asked, holding his arms out to his sides so she could take in the full sight.

Beneath Dean’s cutoff shorts hid a little surprise he had picked up when they stopped at the head-shop in town to pick up souvenirs from their trip. Clinging to his narrow hips was a small, skimpy pair of swim briefs. Two narrow strips of leopard print fabric hugged the lines of his hips to drop down where a triangular scrap of similarly printed fabric barely covered his manhood. His impressive member was straining against the form fitting material, leaving nothing to the imagination. Grinning he looked down at y/n as he began to step backwards toward the water line. “Why y/n, I do believe you’re speechless,” he said nonchalantly, throwing her words back at her as he chuckled, turning around and slowly jogging to the water.

This time y/n couldn’t hold it in, a loud burst of laughter escaping from her chest as she took in the sight in front of her. Not only did the swimwear barely cover his junk, but in the back it didn’t hide a lick of flesh. Instead, the two straps of leopard material that were hugging his narrow hips simply met at the base of his spine and disappeared between his cheeks, leaving them fully exposed. The flesh and muscle simultaneously bouncing and flexing with the effort of his jog across the sand.

While she didn’t expect the view, she couldn’t deny the fact that it was a helluva nice one. So nice, in fact, she felt a pool of slick gathering at the entrance of her core. “What I would do to that man,” she mumbled to herself as she picked up her book and readjusted her surroundings.

Glancing up she noticed Dean had stopped and looked over his shoulder throwing her a smirk and a wink that set every girl’s knees to buckling. “You chicken, or do you just like the view?” He called across the expanse of sand as he turned toward her and began to flex his muscles in different poses much like a bodybuilder.

Pursing her lips she shook her head at him as he egged her on. Having had enough of his taunting, she tossed her book down and took off at a sprint, her tits bouncing with the movement and thoroughly distracting Dean long enough for her to launch herself at him. His hands came up to catch her under the ass, his fingers dimpling the soft flesh where her thighs met her cheeks. She looped her arms around his neck for support, her breasts pushing flush against his own bare chest as she leaned toward him.

“I’m not chicken,” she said matter of factly. “And I guess the view was alright.” She finished with a smirk.

“Just ‘alright’, huh?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, I mean you—.” She didn’t have a chance to finish her sentence because Dean had effectively shut her up by crushing his mouth to hers. She opened up for the kiss, a soft moan escaping her parted lips as Dean pushed his tongue forward to twist and twine with hers. Mirroring his actions, y/n deepened the kiss before pulling back, catching Dean’s lip in the process and nipping at it gently.

“How was that?” He asked breathlessly, his dark green, lust blown eyes meeting her y/ec ones as they each looked to the other for confirmation of what had just transpired between them.

“I’m not sure. Maybe we should try again,” y/n replied on a heaved exhale, attempting to catch her own breath.

“Good idea.” He nodded.

They each dove at the other’s mouth for the second, perfect kiss in a long series of a lifetime’s worth of kisses. The sun, salt, and sand falling away until it left just the two of them clutching at each other with a desperation running deeper and farther than any ocean current.

[hungry-hobbits]

top five modern au terror headcanons

OOF i’m gonna pick at random because me n @henrylevesconte​ have SO MANY FROM SO MANY DIFFERENT INSTANCES so these are in no particular order and also it got kinda long because i can’t shut up!!!!

🌹 Henry Le Vesconte is a very popular LGBT historical romance novelist whose books contain rose motifs or rose symbolism. He usually has James (who is a painter) create the covers for his novels. He enjoys giving away books for free because he’s well off enough that the lack of sale from those books won’t effect him. He’s a very charming flirt, but for some reason has a hard time keeping a long term relationship (that reason usually is James not approving of his s/o’s).

🔪 Cornelius Hickey is a drifter that everyone seems to know somehow or another; basically he is the community’s local enigma and trouble maker. He’s a travelling street artist and painter, as well as a wood sculptor. He has a hard time staying in one place which makes his relationships a bit rocky from the get-go (especially with his on/off boyfriend Gibson), but something about him makes his lovers stick around longer than they normally would...

🍺 Thomas Blanky runs the local LGBT bar (it’s nautical themed ofc, with little banners of nautical and LGBT flags on the back wall behind the bar). He’s a Navy veteran and an out bisexual with a trans wife (Esther); they act kinda like the parents of the young queer folk in town. He’s missing a leg, which is very obvious as soon as he comes out from behind the bar because he wears nothing but cut off jorts, tacky Hawaiian shirts, weird dad-esque fishing shirts, and flip flops (with one glued to his prosthetic foot). His two daughters help work the bar as waitresses, but so help you god if you mess with one of his girls. He has physically thrown people out of his bar for causing a ruckus.

⛵ Francis Crozier is a Navy veteran (served with Blanky) who lives alone in his flat with his PTSD service dog, Neptune. He’s a professor of British Naval history and also acts as the unofficial adopted father of Thomas Jopson (who lives next door) and his three sisters. He’s a recovered alcoholic and hates going to therapy, but does it because his friends ask him to. He enjoys cooking (and always cooks too much so he can give some to Jopson), reading, and making model ships. He’s a bit withdrawn, and it’s hard to get him to socialize, but Jopson’s taught him how to use dating apps and social media!! He really loves posting pictures of Neptune. He also sometimes takes Jopson fishing (if Jopson has time of course).

🐚 Harry Goodsir is, of course, the sweetest man you’ll ever meet. He has a doctorate in marine biology but is currently in school for a degree in cultural anthropology. He also acts as Doctor MacDonald’s TA (he’s Harry’s teacher obv). He’s also taking diving lessons from a Mister Collins. He lives in a flat paid for by his father with his younger brother, Robert. He tends to be a bit of a homebody, but when he’s on campus he’s incredibly friendly and talkative. He’s a sweets fiend, and Robert may or may not use that to get Harry to do favors for him. His sister, Jane, is a graduate of the same university he goes to - she has a doctorate in Botany and uses that to run a very popular flower shop (Harry wishes he had her green thumb but he’s so bad at looking after flowers).