#cherrycola27

You didn't feel any regret leaving your pack. You honestly couldn't wait to get away from the try hard Betas and the egotistical Alphas that never treated you as their equal because of what you were.

So, when the time came for you to leave, you told your family that you didn't want a big send-off. No last run through the forest, no grand pack howl. Just a hug from your parents at the airport, and you were off.

.................

You were three weeks into your new job, and you'd made a few friends. Some shifters, some not. You were currently getting ready to meet a few of them at a local military bar they had told you about. The idea of a military bar didn't really appeal to you as much as it did to them, but who knows, maybe it could be fun. You slipped on a nice black dress and did some simple make-up before heading to your Uber.

You weren't really sure what you were expecting a bar called The Hard Deck to be like, but when your Uber pulled up to it, you certainly weren't expecting to be greeted by a bright neon sign and the sight of the beach just few steps away.

You thanked your drive and stepped out, texting your friends that you had arrived. You walked up the small sandy path and opened the door, and that's when it hit you.

The deep scent of whiskey, cinnamon, and warm tobacco. It filled your olfactory receptors and spread through you like fire. Warming you from the inside out. Your brain flooded with what felt like a thousand voices, and all of them were saying one thing:

Mate

You were frozen in place, eyes darting from side to side, frantically scanning for which of the men in the crowd that it might be. You took a few tentative steps in, hoping your instincts would lead you to him.

...............

Inside, across the bar, and gather round the pool tables, stood Top Guns finest, the Dagger Squadron. They were all talking, laughing, and blowing off steam after a long week at work.

Rooster had broken away from the group to grab another round of drinks. It was halfway to the bar when he felt it, deep inside him, knocking the air from his lungs like a punch to the gut. He stopped and tipped his chin higher, and that's when he caught it.

The most intoxicating, enthralling scent he'd ever experienced. It was sweet and fresh. Like lilies and honey and fresh squeezed citrus. He knew exactly what it meant before he heard it in his head.

Mate

You were there, somewhere in this bar. The one he'd been searching for. The one he'd almost given up one. He turned on his heels. The beers he meant to get long forgotten. Rooster pushed his way through the crowd, following, not sure where he was going or who he was going to. Blinding following some invisible string that would hopefully lead him to you.

...............

You don't remember making the conscious decision to start walking into the bar. It seemed like your feet had a mind of their own. You stepped quickly, not too quickly, to draw too much attention to yourself, your head on a swivl, scanning for your Mate. You inhaled sharply, ears perking up. The scent was getting stronger, which meant you were close. You were excited to meet him, but in the back of your mind, doubt crept it.

What if he didn't think you were pretty? What if he wasn't kind? What if he didn't like who you were—what you were? You know it's silly to think about, but it wasn't unheard of for mates to not like each other at first.

You weren't shallow like some of the other girls in your pack and concerned with how he would look. If he was handsome, that wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. But more than anything, you hoped that he was kind, honest, and caring. Someone you were with because you wanted to be, not because your instincts told you that you had to be.

You sighed, shaking your thoughts from your head. You were hopeful that it would all work out. You took another step forward. Unfortunately, you weren't quite paying attention to where you were going, and you crashed into someone.

You lost your footing and a pair of stong arms wrapped around you, steadying you on your feet. You didn't mean for it to happen, but you found your face buried in his chest. You breathed in his scent deeply.

Whiskey, cinnamon, and warm tobacco.

It was him. Your Mate.

You stepped back and looked up at him. He was tall, so much taller than you, that you had to tip your chin to meet his gaze. He was big and broad, his frame dwarfing you as you stood there.

He was handsome, oh boy, was he handsome. He had the most perfect honey colored curls and golden eyes. His smile was soft and warm as it reached the corner of his eyes. The mustache that had would have been ridiculous on anyone else, but it was perfect for him. You weren't sure how much time had passed. It was like the world around you was frozen. You could have been standing there minutes or hours, just drinking him in. Who knows?

He was the first to break the silence that passed between the two of you. "Hi." He said in a deep voice that had just the right amount of timbre to it.

"H-hi." You replied to him. You were mentally kicking yourself at your lack of confidence and how heavy your tongue felt in your mouth.

"Hi." He repeated again with a soft chuckle. "I guess I should introduce myself. I'm Bradley." He told you with a tooth rotting grin.

"Bradley." You repeated his name softly. It was a good name. A name that fit him well. "What's your name?" Bradley asked you. You told him your name. He repeated it back to himself slowly. Like he was trying to savor the taste of each syllable on his tongue. You liked the way your name sounded coming from lips. At the same time, you were jealous of it. Your name had already had the chance to find out what his tongue tasted like, how it felt to be caressed by his smile. You wanted to know, oh, you wanted to know so badly.

"You're not from around here, are you?" Bradley asked you after another moment. "No. I just moved here from the East Coast for a job. This is my first time here. I'm supposed to be meeting some friends from work, but now—" you trailed off.

"Now you'd rather be anywhere but here?" He finished your thought. "Yeah." You breathed out, suddenly aware that neither of you had let the other one go.

"Well, how about this. You go see your friends, and I'll go back to my friends from work, and in an hour or two, I'll come find you and take you out for a meal where we can get to know each other. How does that sound?" Bradley asked you.

"Good. That sounds good." You tell him sheepishly.

"Good." He smiled before hugging you and letting you get to your friends. You watched him move through the crowd and to the bar. Once he got there, he spoke to the bar tender before turning and pointing to you. You looked away quickly, hoping he didn't catch you staring, but when you looked back, his eyes were still on you. You waved. He waved back and shot you a playful wink before walking towards the pool tables with a handful of beers.

Bradley tried to be as calm as possible as he walked back to the pool table, but he just couldn't wipe the smile off his face.

"Finally. Took you long enough, Rooster." Hangman teased as Bradley approached the group. "Was about to send out a search party for you."

"Sorry, just—got a little caught up." Bradley laughed before grabbing a pool cue and sauntered over to the side of the table to take hus next turn. Bradley leaned down over the table to line up his shot. Just as he took it, another whiff of your scent floated across the bar to him and distracted him, causing him to miss completely.

Instead of getting frustrated, he just laughed and shook his head before handing the cue off to Phoenix.

She took it from him, but didn't move from his path when he went to walk away.

"Bradshaw, you're awfully perky for someone who just lost a game of pool. How come?" Phoenix questioned him.

"No reason. Just in a good mood, I guess." Bradley shrugged.

"Well, that 'good mood' and the fact that you're grinning like an idiot wouldn't have anything to do with that new scent on you, would it?" Nat asked him.

"Well, um—" Bradley scratched the back of his neck, trying to come up with an answer.

"Bradley Bradshaw, in the time it took you to go get beers, did you find your mate?" Nat grins at him like a cat who got the canary. Heat floods Bradley's cheeks as he nods.

"Well, son of a bitch, isn't that the best." Coyote whoops out before giving him a congratulatory smack on the back before the others join in.

"Is she still here?" Bob asks from his perch in the corner.

"Yeah. She's over there with some friends from work. The one in the black dress." Bradley gestures over to you without trying to make it too obvious.

Jake lets out a long, low whistle. "Damn, she is good-looking." He says as he continues to stare.

Bradley turns on his heels and growls a low "Mine," from deep on his chest at Jake before snapping the beer bottle in his hand into a million pieces.

Jake's eyes go wide, but Bradley's go wider. "I'm sorry, Jake. I don't know what just came over me." Bradley says as he wipes himself off with a napkin.

"Instincts, man." Coyote chuckles. "Once you find your mate, your brain goes crazy. After I met Nat in flight school, I remember having to fight off the urge to rip her back seater's head off every time he got in the plane with her." Javy shakes his head and takes a long drink of his beer. "Don't worry, it gets a little easier, eventually."

Bradley shakes his head, embarrassed at what he has done. He's known you for five minutes and already made a fool of himself over you.

..............

"Took you long enough to get here!" Shayla, one of your friends from work loudly exclaims as you make your way over to the table she and the rest are sitting at. "We thought maybe you go lost." Jazz laughs before pushing a margarita in your had.

"Sorry. I got a little—caught up." You say as you glance over to where Bradley and his friends are. "Caught up?" Shayla says as she raises her eyebrow before coming to right next to you.

"Okay, Shay, ever heard of personal space?" You ask her.

"I'm not buying it. You never get 'caught up' with anything, and you're never late. It should be criminal how you are always early to everything." Shayla says as she examines your face.

"Shay, chill and give her some room to breathe," Nia, the fourth and final member of your friend group, finally pipes up. Shayla shushes her with a wave of her hand before leaning closer to you.

Finally, it seems the light bulb goes off for her. "Well, I'll be damned." Shayla chuckles before giving you a pat on the shoulder. Nia and Jazz look at her, confused, waiting for her to say something. Shayla laughs again. "Sorry Nia, sorry Jazz, I forget sometimes that you two aren't like us," she gestures between the two of you, "but it smells like someone has found her mate." Shayla grins as she takes a sip of her drink.

"Mate?" Nia asks. "It's like life partner. Someone that you're destined to be with. It's a wolf thing. It's hard to explain." You tell them. "And you can tell by scent?" Jazz asks. "Yeah, it's instincts. You never know when it's going to happen, but when it does, your brain kinda goes crazy." You tell her.

"Aww, that's so cool. Ugh, you two have it so much easier than the rest of us who are out here fighting for our lives on dating apps." Jazz rolls her eyes.

"So, who is it?" Shayla prys as she looks around the bar. "Him." You say as you point to Bradley and his friends.

"The one in the Hawaiian shirt and the mustache." You say. "Oh, he is fine." Nia says. Without thinking, you growl at her. A low warning. It shocks you. Nia looks back at you with wide eyes. "I'm sorry, Nia. Instincts. Once you meet your mate, your brain hardwires itself to protect your mate from any perceived threats." You try to explain to her.

"Note to self," Nia begins. "Don't tell anyone you think their man is fine." Nia laughs before patting your hand and reassuring you that you're okay.

"So why aren't you over there with him?" Jazz asks you after a moment. "We are both here with friends. We both decided we needed a minute to breathe and wrap our heads around the whole thing. He is going to take me to dinner in an hour so we can get to know each other." You tell them.

"Well, I'm sure you two will click, just like Ian and I did." Shayla says. You knew she was mated since you met her. You saw the barely there scar of a mating mark on the left side of her neck the first time the two of you met.

You raised your hand to rub over your own neck wondering if Bradley would be one of those that instantly wanted to bond, or would he be okay with the fact that you wanted to wait.

"Don't worry." Shayla says as she places her hand on your shoulder. "He is going to love you." She tells you with a reassuring smile.

................

An hour later, Bradley comes and politely steals you away from your friends. Your hand feels so small in his as he holds it to escort you out of the bar and to the parking lot.

"Did you drive here?" He asks you. "No, I took an Uber." You tell him. "Well, I drove. We can take my car to get something to eat, and I can drop you off at your place later, or I can call an Uber if you aren't comfortable riding with me?" Bradley looks down at his feet.

"I'd like to ride with you. Gives us more time to talk. I trust you." You tell him. And you mean it. "Okay." Bradley smiles at you as he leads you across the parking lot to a beautiful vintage blue Bronco. He opens the door and offers you his hand to help you up before he reaches across the seat and buckles you in. He shoots you a wink before shutting the door and running across to the drivers side. You giggle at him.

"So, do you like pancakes? Because I know this diner that has the best pancakes in all of San Diego, that's not too far from here. Or if you don't like pancakes, I know a great taco place, or burgers, or—" Bradley rambles nervously.

"I love pancakes." You blurt out, interrupting his nervous spiral. "Great. Pancakes it is." He smiles at you before driving away from the Hard Deck.

The drive was more— quiet than you thought it would be. Not because you didn't want to talk to Bradley, because god, you really did. But you were afraid to get too close to him before you told him what you were. What if he rejected you because of it? It wasn't unheard of, and you knew it would be easier if you weren't already attached to him. But you could already feel the connection building with him. Between the stolen glances and how he was holding your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze every so often, you already felt yourself yearning for him.

You were broken from your thoughts when Bradley parked in front of a retro looking diner. He hopped out and quickly helped you out of his car. He linked your hands together before walking in.

The two of you were tucked away in a corner booth. Before you could speak, a waitress quickly came and took your order. Chocolate chip pancakes, scrambled eggs with cheese and hot sauce, bacon, and toast. Bradley ordered the same thing, claiming that yours sounded good.

"So," Bradley began as you took a sip of the coffee in front of you. He began to open his mouth to say something, but you stopped him before he could.

"I'm a half-ling!" You blurted before looking down at your hands and fiddling with your napkin.

Bradley was silent for a minute before responding, "Okay."

You glanced up at him, wondering how he could be so nonchalant about it. "Okay?" You question him. He looked at you confused. "Were you expecting me to say something else, Honey?" He asked. The pet name dropping smoothly from his lips like the golden liquid itself.

"Um, maybe. I don't know. I just—I just wanted you to know before we went any further, in case you weren't okay with it. I just wanted to give you the chance to—" you look back down at your hands again. The poor paper napkin shredded to bits now.

"To what? Reject you?" Bradley asks. You nod your head, too scared to meet his eyes. Bradley reaches across the table and takes your hand in his. "Honey," god, why did it sound so good when he called you that? "Half-ling or full wolf. I don't care. And I'm certainly not going to reject you over it. You're my mate. And I know it sounds so cliché but I am not going anywhere. I want to be with you. Do you want to be with me?" Bradley asks you with a sincere smile.

"Yeah. I think I do." You smile back at him. Bradley runs his thumb over your knuckles as the two of you sit there, not speaking, but still, so much passing between the two of you.

Your peace is broken by the arrival of your food. You quickly tucked into it, not realizing how hungry you were.

"So, you're a half-ling. That's cool. Which parent is a wolf?" Bradley asks you after a few minutes.

"My mom." You say while spearing an egg. "One of those rare cases where her mate was a human. But we did some genealogy on my dad's family, and it turns out his like great-great-great-great- grandparents were wolves, so he just had the gene passed down. Not enough where he could ever transform or anything, but it's there." You explain.

"Can you transform?" Bradley asks with a mouthful of bacon. "Yes, I can. I'm just smaller than someone who is full wolf. And not as strong. Some of the boys from my pack would try to take advantage of me and some of the other half-ling girls. They were hot head alphas who thought they could have whatever and whoever they wanted. There was this one in my pack, Marco, he cornerned me in the woods near my house once. Had me up against a tree. I know I wasn't the first girl he'd done it to because he told me that none of the others fought back like me. I sunk my claws into his eyebrow and nearly ripped off his face. He never tried anything like that again, and he was kicked out of the pack." You say taking a bite of your pancakes then pausing.

"I don't know why I just told you all of that." You shake your head.

"It's okay. I want to know everything about you." Bradley assures you.

"Well, just so you know, I've never done anything like that. My scars are from when I was a young, hot-headed alpha mad at the world after I lost my mom. I got into my fair share of fights back then.

"Of course you're an alpha, Bradley. How could you be anything else?" You chuckled. "Technically, I'm an alpha, too. So was my mom. But no one takes a half-ling as an alpha seriously." You scoff.

"I do." Bradley says without missing a beat.

The two of you sit in that diner for another two hours, talking, getting to know each other, and eating way too many pancakes.

When you both finally leave, he offers to take you back to your friends at the Hard Deck. But you turn him down, instead asking him to take you home.

Bradley is a perfect gentleman and walks you to your door. The two of you stand in the glow of the light, illuminating your small porch.

"So." He says. "So." You parrot back to him. "I'm having a really good time, and I'm really not tired. Would you like to come in?" You ask him. He raises an eyebrow at you.

"Not for sex." You clarify, quickly. Bradley busts out a laugh. "I mean, it's not that I don't ever want to have sex with you. Just not right now. I thought maybe we could watch a movie or something?" You try to hide the flush of embarrassment in your cheeks.

"That sounds great." Bradley smiles at you. You quickly unlock your door, and he follows you into the entryway. Both of you toe off your shoes, and you toss your keys into the bowl in the hall.

"Do you want something to drink?" You ask him. "Water is fine." He says as he makes his way into your living room. It's small but homey and decorated in a style that is uniquely you.

He sits down on your couch and looks at some of the pictures that you have up. He assumes that they are of your family and friends.

"Here you go, Bubs." You say to him as you hand him a glass of water. "Bubs?" He asks you, taking the glass.

"I just thought it fit. If you don't like it, I—" you trail off.

"No, I like it. Bubs and Honey. Sounds like quite the pair." Bradley says as you sit down on the couch. It's small, so the two of you are pressed close together. You can feel the warmth radiating off of Bradley. He causally lifts an arm up and drapes it over your shoulder. You lean in even closer to him until your cheek is pressed against his torso. You can hear his heart beating in his chest. You wonder if yours sounds just the same. Bradley wraps his arm around you. Pulling you closer.

By the time the movie that you hadn't been paying attention to is almost over, Bradley is sprawled out across your couch, feet hanging off on side because of how small it is, and how broad he is. You draped over him with a blanket over the two of you. Bradley gentle strokes your hair, and you hum contently.

"You have to go home, don't you?" You say as you prop your chin up on his chest. He sighs and sits both of you up.

"Unfortunately, I think I do." Bradley says. He cups your face and strokes your cheek. "Before I go, I was hoping—if you want—could I kiss you? I've been thinking it about it all night if I'm being honest." Bradley nervously rubs the back of his neck.

"Please." You say so fast that it surprises both of you. He flashes you another smile and tilts your chin up towards his face. His lips just millimeters from yours.

"C'mon, Bubs. Are you going to kiss me or just look at me?" You tease him. "Maybe I want to do both, Honey." He says before connecting his lips with yours.

Electric is the only way you can describe it. His lips are soft and plush and sweet against yours. His tongue traces along the seem of your mouth, and you gladly grant him access, deepening the kiss. Your hands tangle in his hair as Bradley pulls you into his lap. You plant your knees on either side of his waist as the two of you get lost in each other. His hands roam along your body, keeping you close to him.

He pulls away from your mouth and trails his along your chin and neck. His mustache tickles your skin. You feel his lips grazed over your pulse point on the left side of your neck, and you pull away quickly.

Bradley looks at you with lust filled eyes, silently asking you if he's done something wrong.

"I—I know we are mates, but I want to wait on the whole marking thing. Just for a little while, if that's okay with you." You say, worried he'll be mad.

"I'll wait as long as you want, Honey. We have nothing but time." You smile at him and surge forward, kissing him with fervor. You can't get enough of him. You never want to stop kissing him.

"Stay just a little bit longer, please, Bubs?" It comes out more of a beg than a demand. Bradley looks up at you. Your eyes are so sweet, and your lips are swollen and glossy from where you have been kissing him. How can he tell you, no?

"Yeah, Honey. A little longer, anything you want." He agrees, happily, eagerly. You smile brightly at him, and it warms him from the inside out.

Bradley has only known you for a few hours, but he knows that he would do anything in his power to keep that smile on your face.

.............

and even when we're wrong in every way, we come out on the other side okay, Bradley Bradshaw, @gretagerwigsmuse This was the first fic that I ever saw myself in the main character. Smart Aleck made me feel so seen. This fic scratches my brain in a way that I didn't know I needed. Their story has truly been a joy for me.

Dine In, Jake Seresin, @thedroneranger The first Jake fic that I loved. The beginning of me becoming a part-time Seresin Girlie and down bad for Mrs. Seresin.

Girls on Film, Robert Floyd, @topguncortez My first experience with the "Bob Fucks" agenda, and I have been changed ever since. I remember having to put my phone down and reset my brain after reading this because I was speechless.

Is It Working For You?, Bradley Bradshaw, @roosterforme The OG Baby Girl and Roo Series. I can't even describe how much I love these two. I wish I could go back and experience their love story for the first time.

One for The History Books, Bradley Bradshaw, @pisupsala I found this series when it was like 13 chapters in, and it was the first series I binged on Tumblr!

Parking Spots and Matcha Lattes, Jake Seresin, @withahappyrefrain My first experience with "Jake loves mean girls" and I am here for it. Again, Venus makes me feel so seen, and I am here for her (affectionately) being mean to Jake.

Mr. & Mrs. Bradshaw and the Hannix Family, @bradshawsbaby Okay, I know this might be cheating because they are collections not individual fics, but these are the very first things I EVER read in the fandom and made me a Hannix shipper and made me down bad for a man with a mustache.

Sub Rosa, Bradley Bradshaw, @sunlightmurdock This was my gateway into Katie's masterlist. Before their was TiP Rooster, there was Sub Rosa Rooster and the admiral's daughter. This was one of the first series I followed and religiously checked for updates.

You Get Me Closer, Bradley Bradshaw, @thedroneranger My comfort one shot! This was the first fic that ever made me go "holy fuck that was hot" and immediately re-read it. I can't tell you the number of times I've read it or will read it because the limit does not exist.

Creator's Own

Until I Found You, Bradley Bradshaw This is one of my fluffiest fics and has zero emotional damage!

ᴺᴱᵂ false god, Bradley Bradshaw Shameless plug for my newest series that is a (sorta) Greek Mythology!AU. It's a slow burn between my beloved Bradley Bradshaw and the Queen of the Underworld herself, Hades. And in true Nik fashion, it's going to put you through the ringer.

Tag list and friends: @petcr3 @desert-fern @mygyn @sweetwhispersofchaos @galaxy-of-stories @taytaylala12 @malindacath @violyn20 @awildewit @potato-girl99981 @shanimallina87 @blue-aconite @djs8891 @linkpk88 @furiousladyking @daggerspare-standingby @princess76179 @jstarr86 @hecate-steps-on-me @darkheartcherry @soulmates8 @roosters-girl @dempy @roosterisdaddy36 @hangmanscoming @s-u-t @mavrellover91 @chicomonks @averyhotchner @penguin876 @kmc1989 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @cassiemitchell @seitmai

You quickly stepped inside and made your way to the elevator. You punched the button labeled "23" and leaned against the wall of the elevator. You took a few deep breaths to calm your nerves. Moments later, the doors opened, and a talk man with brown locks was standing before you. He was wearing a blue sweater and some lounge pants. You recognized him from the news. "Hi. I'm Bob!" He greeted you warmly. He waved but didn't offer his hand to shake. "What's your name?" He asked you.

"I'm Solara." You told him. "Solara, that's such a cool name. Way better than Robert. Your parents must have been super cool." He beamed at you as you stepped off the elevator. "Follow me, and I'll take you to the others." He instructed you. "Solara isn't my name. It's my super identity." You quickly correct him.

"Oh, well, what's your real name?" Bob asks you, coming to a stop in a hall that seems like it goes on forever. "My name is Dr. Y/N Rothe." You tell him, trying to sound confident.

"Doctor? Woah. That's so cool. Like a medical doctor or something else?" He asks you with what seems like genuine interest. "Engineering. Power, energy, that kind of stuff." You tell him. "That's awesome. I'm sure the others will think that is so cool!" Bob exclaimed as he pushed open the doors that you'd finally arrived at.

"Everyone!" Bob yelled into the massive room. "Come meet Y/N. She's a doctor!"

Suddenly, everyone from the New Avengers stood before you, weapons drawn. "Who are you?" Yelena demanded. "How did you get in here? John Walker yelled at you.

"Woah, take it easy." Bob said, stepping in front of you. "This is Dr. Y/N Rothe. She's an engineer who works with power and energy. She came to the tower asking to speak with the New Avengers, and I buzzed her in." Bob explains, looking back at you with a smile.

Yelena sighs and lowers her weapon as the others follow suit. "Bob, we have talked about this. You can't let strangers into the tower. Especially if we don't know if they are a good guy or a bad guy, or if they have powers."

"I have powers. But I'm not a bad guy. I want to help people." You speak up, peering from behind Bob.

"What kind of powers do you have?" Bucky asks you, taking a cautious step forward. "Energy manipulation. I was working for EnerG Corporation, developing a new type of solar panel. Lighter weight, easier to make, able to draw more energy from the sun. I was out in Mojave running some tests when a lightning storm came out of blue. I had nowhere to run. Lightning struck me and pinned me against the panels. I thought I was dead for sure. When I woke up, I knew something was different. Took me a while to figure it out, but I'm pretty good with my powers now." You tell them.

"What all can you do?" Yelena asks you. "I can fly, create sonic waves, run faster than light, deflect bullets and knives and punches by redirecting their kinetic energy. I can heat and freeze things. And I'm bulletproof." You say before lifting off of the ground a few feet. "Go ahead, shoot me." You say. The others look around, but John doesn't hesitate and fires right at you.

"Jesus Christ!" Bob jumps and covers his ears. The bullet doesn't phase you. It crumpled in a heap at your feet as you landed. "Told you." You say with a matter of fact tone. "Why are you here?" Bucky asks you. "I want to help people. I want to be a New Avenger." You say. "Do you have a name? And a suit?" Yelena asks you. "I have both. I call myself Solara." You say proudly. Before they can blink. You're in a burnt orange super suit with long sleeves and a skirt. You have golden boots and a golden cape. I belt circles your waist, and a sun-like tiara holds your hair.

"A skirt? Really? No one is going to take you seriously. How do you even fight in that?" Yelena scoffs. "It is really a skort. And I can fight just fine. I believe I can be both powerful and feminine. Not just one or the other." You say to her.

"Okay. Everyone. Huddle up, team meeting!" Yelena yells as everyone gathers in a circle. Bob rocks nervously beside you. "Your suit is really pretty. I have one, too. It's yellow, but it's not nearly as pretty as yours." Bob tells you. A blush spreads across your cheeks. You open your mouth to answer him, but Yelena grabs him by the elbow. "C'mon Bob. You too." She says as she drags him to the group.

You can hear the hushed whispers about if they should let you stay or not. What seems like ages passes before they come back to stand before you.

Bucky clears his throat. "We have decided you can stay and train here on a few conditions. First, you have to show us all of your powers. Second, you have to meet Val. Third. No missions with us until we know we can trust you." Bucky says. "And fourth, if you try to betray us, we will find a way to kill you." Yelena adds.

"Thank you so much. I promise you won't regret this!" You tell them. "We will see." John says coldly.

"First things first, we need to get you moved into the tower. Normally, we all get our own floor, but not all of them are finished. Bob, do you mind sharing?" Yelena asks him. "Not at all." Bob replies quickly.

"Good. Do you have any things?" Yelena asks you. "Some, but I can bring them myself. Just show me where to put them." You tell her. Bob eagerly leads you to his, now your floor, and shows you the extra bedroom and bathroom. You will share a living space. Moments later, you zap away, gather the few things you had from your storage unit, and organize your room before Bob has had time to finish a page in his book.

"Wow. That was fast." Bob says as he stands in your doorway. He takes in your room. It's decorated with lots of neutrals with pops of pinks and oranges. He notices a record player on the dresser and lots of books on the selves. There are a few plants scattered around and an oversized circle chair with pillows and a blanket on it. He just met you, but he somehow knows that this room is very you.

"Thanks. Being faster than the speed of light has its advantages." You shrug your shoulders as you close the closet door. You've changed into an oversized sweatshirt and leggings. You have a pair of fuzzy socks on your feet. "Where can I get some food around here? I'm starving and I haven't been to a store yet." You ask Bob. "I can show you to the kitchen. It is always stocked. I can give you a tour of the whole place if you'd like?" Bob asks, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

"I'd like that." You smile at him. You pad your way over to him, but your socks cause you to slip. Bob leans forward and catches you. One of his arms loops around your waist, and the other reaches out and catches you by the hand. Bob braces himself, prepared to see your worst memory. Instead, he sees you stepping off the elevator a few hours ago. He sees himself taking to you, and you smiling back at him. Bob takes a step forward, but the scene before him vanishes.

You take in a sharp breath and blink, slowly looking up at him. Neither of you has moved, and you're suddenly aware of how close you are to Bob. You can feel the heat radiating off of him. You can smell the earthly scent of his soap or shampoo.

Neither of you speaks, both choosing to ignore what you just saw. You clear your throat, snapping Bob back to reality. "You okay?" He asks you, helping you to your feet.

"Yeah. I'm good. Thanks for not letting me fall, Robby." You say to him. "Robby?" He raises his eyebrows at you. "Is it okay if I call you that? Bob seems so formal, so cold. You don't seem like that. You seem kind, warm. Like a Robby. If you don't like it, I can call you Bob." You tell him, holding your breath, waiting for him to answer.

You can see the wheels turning in his head as he tries to find the words. Finally, he speaks. "I like it. Robby is nice. I like how it sounds when you say it. You can call me Robby. But only you." He decides before smiling at you. You smile back at him. "Now, how about those snacks you promised you'd show me, Robby?" You tease him.

"Snacks, right. Follow me." Bob says as he turns on his heels and heada out of your room, unaware of the impact he has already made on you.

...........................................

"You told me that when we first started dating, you wanted to take things slow. And I'm totally okay with that. But you've also told me that no one has ever been able to get you off. I want to change that." He stated.

"I understand that, Jake, but I—" you protested.

"But nothing, honey. I'm a visual learner. Show me what you like. I want to take care of you. I want to show you that I'm better than the guys you dated before me. Prove that I am the best of the best." He smirked.

It really shouldn't come as a surprise to you. The fact that Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, Naval aviator extraordinaire, would want to prove to you that he is the best. The two of you had been together for just over five months, and in that time, he'd already prove himself to be the best boyfriend you'd ever had.

When you first started dating, you told him you wanted to take things slow. After a while, you told him the real reason was because no boyfriend or hook up in the past had ever made you cum. He had been trying to rectify that situation for a while now.

Though, him asking you to touch yourself so he could watch was not something you expected. You met his eyes. At first, you thought he was kidding. But with just one look, you knew he was serious.

You sighed. "Okay" you said in a voice just above a whisper.

"Yeah?" He asked. "Yeah." You confirmed.

A huge smile broke out across his face. Before you could change your mind, Jake was scooping you out of your chair and hauling you to your bedroom.

He gently deposited your feet on the floor. "Where do you want me to sit? You're in charge here." Jake said, kissing your head.

"Um, you can pull my desk chair to the foot of the bed. You said shyly. Jake quickly grabbed it and positioned it. With your back turned to him, you stripped off your shirt and pants. In a moment of confidence, you turned to face him. You were wearing a baby blue set. You could see he pupils go wide at the site of you.

Without saying a word, you reached behind your back and unhooked your bra. You slipped it off your shoulders and tossed it to the ground.

Silently, you let your panties slide down your legs. They were already damp, just from the intensity of how he was watching you.

Feeling cocky, you balled them up and tossed them to him. He caught them and immediately inhaled your scent.

"All of this just for me?" He asked. You giggled.

"Do you mind if I use my vibrator?" You asked him.

"Whatever you want, sweetheart. This is about you." He said. There wasn't a hint of jealousy in his voice. You'd been with a few gues who would have scoffed at the idea, but not Jake. He wanted to learn what made you tick. He was invested in you.

You opened your nightstand and pulled out your favorite purple bullet. You grabbed a pillow and laid down on the bed. Once you were comfortable, you put the pillow under your hips and spread your legs.

"Such a pretty pussy." Jake mumbled out. You raised your head just enough to look at him. His eyes were trained on your core.

You grabbed your vibrator and turned it to your favorite setting.

You let it slide through your slick and gathered it up before setting it directly on your clit.

You circled the toy around your aching bundle of nerves and sighed. Your left hand came up to squeezed your breasts, bringing your nipples to hard, pebbled peaks.

"Oh, Jake," you sighed. His names fell easily from your lips as you dipped your toy into your wet cunt before dragging it back to your clit.

"Fuck," you heard Jake grunt out. You looked up to see his shirt had been stripped off and that his pants and boxers were pushed down to his ankles and he was stroking his cock.

"Learning anything?" You asked him.

"Lots, keep going, baby. I want to see you cum for me." He moaned out.

Emboldened by his words, you turned the vibrator up a setting. The strong vibrations made your body jolt.

You kept circling the toy on your clit, applying pressure. You could feel your release approaching. Your toes curled, and you felt yourself clenching around nothing.

Your head thrashed wildly, and you couldn't contain your cries of pleasure.

"Oh fuck Jakey. Feels so good. Mmm, yes, Jake, yes!" You cried out.

"Keep going, baby girl. You have no idea how hot this is. My cock is so fucking hard from watching you. Better than any fucking porn." He moans out. You can hear him panting. It makes you even wetter knowing that he is enjoying this just as much as you are.

"I'm s'close Jake. I'm gonna cum." You cry. You can feel the tightness in your belly.

"Cum for me baby. I wanna see you cum for me. Please." Jake almost begs.

You flick your wrist and circle your bud a few more times before you are cumming hard.

"JAKE!" You cry his name as you work yourself through your high.

Once you've come down. You turn the toy off and set it to the side. You sit up enough to look at him.

Jake is panting, and you see the white ropes of cum covering his abdomen.

"Christ baby, you don't know how hot that was." He tells you.

You lay back on the pillows and sigh. You're trying to think of a smart ass reply, but your brain isn't working.

"Has anyone ever gone down on you?" Jake asks.

"No." You breathe out, still staring at the ceiling.

"Can I?' He asked. "Now?" You lean up and see that he's moved from the chair and is kneeling at the foot of the bed.

"There's no better time than the present." He states.

"You're sure?" You ask him. This is definitely not how you thought this evening would go.

He nods his head furiously.

"Well, why not?" You say before flopping back.

You'd no sooner gotten settled before Jake was pulling you to the edge of the bed. He made sure the pillow was still under your hips before he threw both of your legs over his shoulders.

"Tell me what you like and what you don't like, okay?" He asks.

"Yes, sir." You mock. But anything else dies on your lips as he broad, flat tongue slides across your slit.

Your hips jump at the pleasant but unfamiliar sensation. You hear him chuckle as his forearm comes to lay across your pelvis to keep you in place. He does it a few more times before tracing your clit with the just the tip of his tongue.

"Mmm.. that feels good." You sigh. He keeps doing it, speeding up and applying more pressure each time he does it.

It feels good, but you need more. You thread your fingers through his hair and push his face towards your core.

Taking the hint, Jake wraps his lips around the bundle and sucks it—hard.

"Shit! That feels so good, baby." You cry out. Jake hums against you and does it again.

He let's go of it would a soft pop before dipping his tongue into your greedy, wet hole.

He fucks it into you repeatedly. Your cries of pleasure, spurring him on. He laps at your core, tasting your sweet nectar. His nose bumps against your clit with every lick.

"Jake, I—I need—" you pant.

"What do you need, baby. Use your words. Tell Daddy what you need princess.

"Your fingers. Please, Daddy... need them to fill me up." You cry out.

He sinks his middle and ring fingers into you. You're so wet for him, the glide in easily. You're vaugly aware of the cool metal of his Naval Academy ring against your heat.

He curls them into you. Easily finding the textured spot that is guaranteed to have you cumming in minutes.

"Oh, Daddy, fuck, Jake, just like that!" You moan out.

Your hand grips his hair tighter. Your thighs close in on his head, trapping him there. The heel of your foot digs into his back. He'll probably have a bruise there in the morning, but neither of you seem to care.

Everything feels so fucking good. This is what you had been missing out on. Watching you get off had Jake hard as a rock again. He ground his hip into your mattress to relieve some pressure.

"You look so pretty like this baby." Jake praises you.

You look down and meet his eyes. The green of them is just a thin halo around his lust blown pupils. Never breaking eye contact, he sucks your clit back into his mouth and speeds up the motions of his fingers, curling them and scissoring your walls.

"Just like that! Oh, just like that! Please don't stop!" You beg him.

"Don't plan on it, sweets. Daddy isn't going to stop until you cum all over his face. Come on baby, give it to me. Make a mess all over my face!" He encouraged you.

You can feel your high building deep inside you. It's different, though. It's more intense than any orgasm that you've ever given yourself.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck." You chant.

"Jake, I'm gonna, shit daddy, gonna—" You try to warn him, but it's all too much, and before you can say anything else, you're cumming hard against his face. It's harder than you ever have cum in your life.

He works you through it, lapping and curling his fingers. He doesn't stop until you're cumming again. Screaming his name so loud, you know your neighbors can hear you.

He continues to drink up every last drop of your release. Your thighs are shaking as you push his head away. He unwrap himself and leans back on his haunches.

His spend coats his boxers because getting you off twice, with just his mouth and his fingers, God it was hot. But making you squirt for him? He feels like God himself because of that.

He crawls up beside you in the bed. Your eyes are glassy and your whole body is flushed.

"That was amazing." You gasp. You turn and look at him. He has a genuine smile on his face.

"So I'm definitely the best then?" He asks with a grin.

"Definitely. The others can't compete where they don't compare." You affirm.

He leans down to kiss you.

"We need to get cleaned up and change the sheets. We made a mess." He tells you.

"This goes without saying, but you're definitely the first person to make me squirt too." You tell him as you sit up.

"And I plan to be the last." He affirms as the two of you head to the shower.

"Is that so?" You cock an eyebrow and look at him.

"Absolutely."

Hope yall enjoyed this! As always, likes are great, but comments and reblogs are golden

This narrator is excited to see what matches are made this year.

But before the first ball of the season, I hope you all place your bets as to which ladies will find success and which will be left broken hearted.

All eyes this year, seem to be on the house of Lord and Lady Beaumont. At the ripe age of six-and-twenty, their daughter, Miss Y/N Beaumont, enters her fourth social season without a husband. With het older sister being the Dutchess of Miramar, and her older brother set to inherent the family title, one can only wonder why Miss Beaumont has yet to secure a match, and what her family plans to do if she fails again this season.

However, it seems there will be some excitement that many young ladies, and their mamas can look foward too.

After an extended period away in the Americas, this narrator is thrilled to report that the Viscount Bradley Bradshaw has returned to London in hopes to take a wife this season. The only question is, who will be the lucky lady that will catch his eye?

...........................................

"Isn't it wonderful to be back in London?" Your mother chirped from the carriage. "Yes, quite wonderful." You responded, not taking your eyes away from the passing landscape. You sighed.

You dreaded being back in London. You already knew that people would be whispering about you in hushed corners. Girls would giggle and cover their smirks as you walked by, a buzz about that fact that you were old, and still unwed.

It's not that you didn't want to marry. You just didn't want to make the wrong choice. You wanted someone who was kind and valued you as more than a body to carry a child. You wanted someone who liked your wit and charm and appreciated the many talents you had.

"Darling." Your mother called, snapping you out of your trance.

"Hmm?" You hummed back as you turned to face her and your father.

"I asked if you enjoyed your time in Miramar with your sister and the Duke?" Your mother repeated. "Yes, Mama, it was absolutely splendid. William, Micheal, and Violet have grown so much since you've seen them last." You beamed as you talked about your niece and nephews.

You had spent several months helping your sister tend to them while she looked for a governess. It had truly been a splendid time, and you wished you had been able to say forever. But, your parents insisted you come home.

"Wonderful." Your mother smiled before her expression turned more serious. "Y/N, there is something your father and I must discuss with you."

"What?" You asked her. "We know that you have had some difficulties securing a match. It is very noble for you to hold out for love, but sometimes, one must forego love and find a sensible match." Your mother began.

"What do you mean?" You say. "What I mean is—" she sighs. "Your sister is a Dutchess. Your brother will inherit the estate, and you— you will have nothing. And I know Eddie would never let you go without, but darling, your father and I want to know you will be taken care of once we are gone." She tells you.

"Eddie and Clarissa would make sure I'm taken care of. So would Marianne and George." You say.

"We know they would." Your father speaks up finally. "But it is not their job. That is the job of a husband. Which is why your mother and I have decided that if you do not secure a match by the end of the season, we will find one for you." He states.

"What?" You shriek. "An arranged marriage? I will not agree to it." You huff. "You don't have a choice. We love you, but we will not let you tarnish the family name by becoming a spinster!" Your father declares.

You open your mouth to respond, but he shoots you a look that lets you know his mind is made up and that this conversation is over. You sulk into your carriage seat and refuse to look at either of your parents for the remainder of the ride.

............

Your first few days back in London are a flurry of trips to the market, the jeweler, and the modiste. Your mother insists that a new wardrobe will help in your quest to sequester a husband. You're fitted with beautiful drapes of satin and silk and lace for what seems like hours until your mother deems you finished. She does allow you to pick the colors of your garments at least, and so, for the first ball of the season, you choose a deep shade of burgundy. You've always been fond of the color. Even though some would say it's melancholy, you think it's just right. The thought of a dress in that color gives you the tinest bit of hope as you prepare for the season.

..........

Viscount Bradley Bradshaw was not thrilled to be back in London. He would much rather be in the countryside, but he had ignored his estate for too long, and it was now to the point that he could no longer manage on his own. He needed a wife. Someone else to share the burden with.

He didn't need, nor really want, a love match. But he did want someone smart, sensible, kind, and willing to bear his heirs. He wanted someone he could have a conversation with, and that could, at the very least, be his friend.

He'd heard much about the ladies that were available this season, and there seemed to be several promising options. He just hoped he could find someone quickly, have a short courtship, an even shorter engagement, and be married before the meddling mamas sicked their daughters on him.

He ran his hands over his face in the back of his carriage. There were so many things he needed go do this week before the first ball of the season.

He needed to collect a few payments, pay the staffs wages, and head to the tailor. Many of his suits were now too tight in the shoulders. The months he'd spent traveling and made him broader and more muscular than he once was. He couldn't risk being on the dance floor with a potential wife and have his seams bust.

He glanced outside his carriage and saw the parade of ladies and their mothers walking around and gossiping.

"One season, Bradley, you can do this for one season." He whispered to himself before grabbing his journal and writing.

...............

The first ball at the home of Lord and Lady Whittmore came faster than you imagined. It seemed you'd just unpacked your trunk when your ladies' maids came in to help you dress and prepare for the evening.

They tied your corsets and stays, fastened each tiny button, styled your hair into an elegant half up, half down hairstyle, and helped you adorn yourself with a few simple jewels that your mother insisted on.

Standing back from your mirror, you looked every bit the part of an eligible bachelorette. Your deep red dress accentuated your features. The sparkling stones sewn onto it caught the light beautifully.

Your silk gloves elongated your arms, and the garnet necklace and earrings you wore matched your dress perfectly.

Your father smiled warmly, and your mother gasped when you descended the stairs to the foyer where they were waiting for you along with your brother and his wife.

"Y/N! You look most marvelous. Surely you will be the crown jewel of the ball!" Your sister-in-law, Clarissa, gushed as she hugged you.

"Thank you, Clarissa." You smiled at her warmly before your mother ushered everyone out to the carriages. You rode with Eddie and Clarissa to the Whittmore estate, thankful to have a reprieve from your parents talking your ear off about how important it was for you to find a match, and this ball would be your best chance.

The Whittmore estate was lovely when you arrived. Candles lit up the great rooms, lively string music played. There was delicious food and drinks at every corner. Lady Whittmore handed you your dance card, which you quickly secured around your wrist.

Your brother insisted on taking you on a turn about the room, which meant you stopped to talk to several noblemen and had several ask to place their name on your card.

You can't remember half of those you danced with. Just that they would step on your feet or only talk about themselves. Anytime they asked you a question, it was about how many children you wanted and if you knew how to run a house. They didn't care that you were well read, knew three languages, or that you could play the harp. Heirs, and lots of them. That's all they cared about.

After a quatrain with some Lord old enough to be your father, you stepped away from the dance floor in hopes of taking a break and catching your breath. You grabbed a glass of champagne and tried to find a quiet place to sit and have a moment to yourself. Unfortunately, fate had other plans. A large body collided with yours, causing you to trip and spill your drink, and there's all over yourself.

"Oh my goodness! This dress is new!" You shrieked as you frantically tried to dry it with your hankerchief.

"My apologies, Miss. I wasn't watching where I was going." The person who crashed into you said.

"Of course you weren't. You Lords waltz around here with your noses so high in the air that you forget to look down and pay attention." You shot back at them.

There was a moment of silence where you realized that you probably shouldn't have said that. Especially if you wanted to find a husband.

"I'm sor—" you began as you looked up. But once you saw who it was, your words died in your throat.

"Bradley Bradshaw?" You breathed not, not quite believing it was him standing before you. "Ducky? Ducky Beaumont? Is that you?" He asked with a smile.

"No one calls me Ducky anymore, not even Edmond." You say. "Well then, what do they call you?" Bradley asked you.

"Mine name, or Miss Beaumont." You reply. "Miss Beaumont?" Bradley asks you.

"Yes. I am still Miss Beaumont, even though this is my fourth season." You sigh. "Well— I have a had time believing that you of all people struggle with finding a match, Ducky." Bradley smiles at you.

You're just about to correct him again when he suddenly grabs your hand and sweeps you out onto the floor for a waltz. "What was that all about, Lord Bradshaw?" You ask him using his formal title.

"Well, Ducky. There is a young lady who has been pestering me all evening, and I needed to get away from her." Bradley said as he directed your attention to a girl who looked rather annoyed with you.

"Ah, I see." You chuckle. "So, Ducky, tell me, how have you gone four seasons without a husband?" Bradley asks you as the two of you dance.

"It is Miss Beaumont, Lord Bradshaw. We are no longer children, and I am no longer chasing you and my brother around the countryside while our mothers play cards." You say to him. "But, I have simply not been able to find someone who appreciates me and is kind. Everyone only cares about how many children I want and what my dowery is. Not once today have I been asked if I read or if I know another language or if I can play an instrument!" You huff. Bradley chuckles.

"Well, do you read?" He asks you before giving you a spin. "Yes, I read all kinds of books." You reply. "Do you know any other languages?" He asks with a chuckle. "I know three! I speak Spanish, French, and Italian!" You exclaim. "And what about musical instruments? Can you play any?" He smiles at you. "I am most accomplished with the harp." You smile back at him.

"Well, you are very well rounded, Miss Beaumont, certainly interesting." Bradley tells you.

"And you are the only person in this room who knows that. Which is probably why I am on my way to be an old maid at the age of six-and-twenty." You sigh.

"That is not old. I am not much older than that myself. I went to school with your brother, and we are both barely two-and-thirty." Bradley says as the song ends.

"Well, I appreciate the thought. Thank you for the dance, Lord Bradshaw." You say as you curtsey to him.

"No, thank you, Ducky." He smiles and winks at you before bowing and walking away.

You had butterflies in your belly for the rest of the evening. If you were being truthful with yourself, you'd always had feelings for Bradley. Ever since you were a girl, you were captivated by your brother's best friend, always chasing the two of them around your estate, which earned you the nickname he so foundly called you.

You can remember the exact moment you realized your feelings for Bradley weren't platonic. It was when you were fourteen, and he and your brother had come home from their second year at university. The tall, lanky boy you'd spent summers with had filled out into a broad, brawny man.

And even though he was older, Bradley was always kind to you. Which is why it crushed you that he went away the same year you made your debut. You'd always hoped that maybe—just maybe—he would court you.

Maybe that's why you'd never tried too hard to find a suitor because deep down, you were holding out for Bradley. And now, that he's back, you hope that this might be the year that you find a husband.

..............

The next day, you were giddy as calling hours approached. You prayed that if anyone came, it would be Bradley.

When a valet came and said there was a caller for you, you practically leaped from your seat on the sofa, only to be met with disappointment that it was Lord Artenson. He was followed by Lord Phillips, Lord Martin, and Lord Herrington, who was determined to have you as his third wife.

You sighed and resigned yourself to reading a book once Lord Herrington finally left. Calling hours were almost over, and you were silently disappointed that Bradley had not come. But really, it was foolish of you to think that he would. You were his best friend's little sister, practically his own little sister. You were his Ducky, and he would never think of you as anything more.

You were just about to head upstairs to your room and your parents to their own when a valet came in the drawing room.

"Excuse me Lord and Lady Beaumont, it seems there is another visitor here for Miss Beaumont." He spoke.

"Really?" Your father asked. "Who is it?"

"The Viscount Bradshaw."