Resident Evil Oneshots

PlayGirl (Brad Vickers x FEM!reader)

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(Brad Vickers x FEM!reader)

Warnings; sexual jokes, Brad being a little perv, no real smut, barely edited.

Summary; Brad and readers normal nights together as a married couple.

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Brad sighed, late shifts in the office were always boring and repetitive. He just wanted to go home, crack open some cheap beer, and eat dinner with you. God, just the thought of you sent him into a spiraling frenzy of emotions. Lust, happiness, and longing mostly. 

The brunet missed you, even if he saw you everyday and spent every night with you; he'd still miss you dearly. With a small huff, he continued his mind-numbing paperwork and waited for the time to pass.

×~×

Brad parked his small 1997 Honda Civic, white, a little dinged up. But Brad loved it, it was his pride and joy. Pocketing his keys, Brad opened the driver's side door and climbed out, closing it behind him. He walked up the small concrete walkway, humming to himself when he noted that he needed to cut the grass again.

Brad groaned in annoyance when he realized that he could not have put his keys away, and that he had to now use his house key. Fishing the bundle of keys out, he slotted the house key in, a bright pink finish on it. You had insisted on it, as he always lost his keys, and now his keys were all embarrassingly colorful.

Brad snorted and shook his head when he heard the dog come running towards the door, the dog's tail beating against the floor while he waited for his favorite person to walk in. Brad smiled when he heard you talking to the dog, asking if Brad was finally home.

After unlocking the door and opening it, the canine excitedly jumped when Brad walked in. Brad chuckled and rubbed the chocolate lab's head, before walking into the living room where he assumed that you were. 

Fuck.

You sat on the couch, only in a baggy shirt and a pair of his boxers. You had insisted on it, if he got to wear your socks; you got to wear his and his boxers.

Brad really needs to thank Joseph for daring him to buy a Hooters T-shirt from said breastaurant. Now Brad gets to see you wear the loose T-shirt around the house, sometimes just it and a pair of panties.

Shaking the dirty thoughts from his head, Brad walked over and sat next to you, leaning over and pecking your lips. Brad toed his boots off, and peeled his socks off, wiggling his now free toes. "How was work?"

You glanced up from your magazine, and smiled at him, "Fine. Still cute as always. The kids got really excited when I told them about the possum in the backyard last night."

You worked as an elementary school teacher, you taught second grade language arts. You always came back with cute little stories about your class.

"Yeah? That's cute." Brad replied, looking over at the TV. "WrestleMania? You like wrestling?"