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#bradley bradshaw x reader
roosterforme · 3 days
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The Younger Kind Part 56 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: When Bradley finally gets word about a return date, he has no idea what he's about to walk into at home. You tried your best to take care of things by yourself, but your visit to the hospital shows you how much you need someone with you for physical help as well as emotional support.
Warnings: mentions of blood, pregnancy topics, hospitals, mentions of miscarriage, swearing, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)
Length: 4100 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.
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You managed to get in the car even though Natasha was protesting. "What's wrong?" she asked at least a dozen times as she tried to call an ambulance for you. But you just told her you could drive yourself to the hospital to be checked out. You thought you said the word pregnant to her at some point, but you weren't really sure. Nothing was making very much sense right now. 
There was traffic on every road as dinnertime approached. Everyone else was going out for the night, perhaps for a family meal at a restaurant. You saw kids walking along the sidewalks with their parents, and you started crying. You didn't like leaving Noah to wake up from his nap with Natasha suddenly there instead of you. She would take care of him, of course, but it might confuse him. You didn't see what choice you had in the matter though, as your mind was flooding with worst case scenarios.
What was happening to the baby?
You sobbed as you ran through a yellow light to try to get there faster. What if it was already too late? You were educated enough to know that there were about a million different things that could be going on right now, and they ranged from innocuous to horrifying. Maybe you did something to cause some minor bleeding. Or maybe the baby was already gone.
"Please, no," you gasped as you parked at the hospital and walked quickly through the increasingly dreary weather to the emergency entrance. Your phone was vibrating in the pocket of your sweatpants as you headed right for the desk and blurted out, "I'm pregnant, and I'm bleeding."
The exhausted looking nurse looked up at you and said, "Please have a seat in the waiting area, and I'll come get you when I'm ready for you."
You blinked at her. "I'm bleeding," you repeated in a harsh whisper. "And I'm pregnant."
"Yes," she replied with a nod. "I'll be with you in just a minute."
You took a seat and cried, afraid to use the bathroom in the waiting area, terrified to see more blood when you wiped yourself. Anytime patients came to see Dr. Kelly, you made sure you took care of them right away, especially if they were bleeding or upset. You couldn't stand the tears that would well up in a child's eyes along with uncertainty and fear. 
But then you got it. It only took you a minute to understand that if there truly was something wrong with the baby, then there was nothing they would be able to do at this point.
Your phone was ringing again, and it was Natasha. As the nurse came to retrieve you from your seat, you texted her and let her know you made it to the hospital and to focus her attention on Noah. You were shaking again as the nurse took your temperature and blood pressure, and you wanted to scream at her to do something more than check your vitals. You needed an ultrasound. You needed a doctor. You needed someone to focus on why you were bleeding.
She handed you off to another nurse, and at least he smiled sympathetically at you and said, "We'll get you checked out in no time." But you could barely walk, and you felt his hand wrap around your bicep to keep you upright as he guided you into one of the many rooms in the emergency medicine corridor. "I'll get a doctor right in here, okay?"
His voice was calm, emulating what you tried to do at your own job, and he left you a gown to change into. Once he was gone, you put it on, afraid to check your underwear as you settled onto the narrow bed. The room smelled sterile, and the fluorescent lights were making you nauseous, but he was true to his word. You started counting to yourself, trying to keep track of how much time had passed without panicking, and a few minutes later, a doctor appeared in the doorway.
She spoke your name, and when you nodded, she introduced herself. "You're pregnant?" she asked you evenly as she reached for some latex gloves. She reminded you a bit of Dr. Kelly, and you immediately felt a little bit calmer. 
"Yes. About thirteen weeks along, and I just started bleeding like an hour ago." Your voice broke on your words, but you tried to keep it together. "I'm a pediatric nurse, so I'm not completely proficient in obstetrics, but can you give me an ultrasound and check? I need to know if the baby is okay."
"Lay back so I can see what's going on here." You did exactly as you were told as your heart pounded and panic rose within you. The baby was already so loved; you and Bradley were both looking forward to the due date. Sure, you'd been a little scared of the unknown, but the idea of miscarrying had you sick with worry. 
If Bradley were here right now, you knew you'd feel so much safer, but if the baby was gone, your preference would be to deal with this yourself. The disappointment on his face would be too much to bear. You'd rather never look at him again then have to see how sad he was going to be when you told him. If you had to tell him. 
You ran your thumb along the band of your engagement ring as the doctor gave you a quick examination. "Have you had vaginal intercourse in the last forty-eight hours?"
"N-No," you sputtered. "My fiancé is deployed. He's in Japan."
"Did you masturbate?"
You shook your head; you were so tired, you could barely clean up after dinner each day, let alone get yourself off. "No."
She pulled the gown down again and said, "It's most likely just your cervical tissue reacting to something, but let's get you taken back for an ultrasound to be sure."
"Thanks," you sobbed, letting your palm come to rest on your belly as you closed your eyes and tried to stay afloat in your own terrible thoughts. "I just want to know if I'm still pregnant."
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"Finally," Bradley muttered, running his fingers through his hair as he walked through the hangar with his helmet in his hand. Six weeks was a long time to be away from you right now. Too long, really. He had kind of fallen in love with flying Shadowhawk, but nothing compared to sharing a bed with you and reading bedtime stories to Noah. And he was itching to see the newest ultrasound photos.
He'd been confined to the Naval base at Yokosuka except for one day when the weather was too unsafe to let him fly. He took a short trip back into the city, chaperoned of course, but he was allowed to visit a bookstore. He ended up buying eight books for Noah and the baby, and he couldn't wait to show them to you. And he'd be able to do that soon, because he finally had a return date. If he did his math right, he'd be home in time to take Noah out to get candy on Halloween, as long as he wasn't delayed.
With just a few days left flying Shadowhawk, he really let the throttle tilt. He could hear Admiral Palmer warning him about his speed over the crystal clear comms, and he smiled before he responded. "Yes, sir. I'll ease off." But he didn't until he made a beautiful loop through the air. He was getting used to the ridiculous pressure on his body now, and when he got to San Diego and switched back to his Super Hornet, he was going to miss this feeling. He couldn't wait to try to describe it to you.
He knew what was coming. He was anticipating hours spent looking at his own flight data with the officers, but when the time came, he just felt antsy. The sixth-generation fighter had been moved back into the hangar for storage. He'd taken his last flight. His bags were packed, and he was ready to go home, but he had to pretend to be interested in what came next: at least fifty admirals sifting through data before anything would be determined. Bradley hoped these jets would eventually come to find a home with the US Navy, but it would be years from now if they did. He had done his part, and he wanted to be let loose again.
When he woke up on the day of his departure, he signed a final set of privacy forms before his phone was returned to him as he was ushered out to a car waiting to take him to the airport. He couldn't leave soon enough at this point. All he could picture was your face and Noah's, happy to see him home again. He could practically feel your body in his hands, and it was the only thing he wanted. 
Once he settled in for the short ride, he turned his phone on to find that he only had a tiny bit of battery left. Without even checking to see what time it was at home, he called you. He'd let his phone die talking to you right now if need be, and then he could charge it later. But you didn't answer. That was okay.
"Princess, I'm coming home. I'm on my way to the airport in Tokyo right now, and it's a ten hour flight. I think I'll be landing after midnight, so don't worry about getting Noah out of bed to come pick me up. I'll get an Uber or a taxi. I can't wait to see you, Baby. I love you."
He ended the call, and as soon as he started to investigate all of his missed text messages, the phone died. He was dropped off at the airport with barely half an hour to spare before his flight was scheduled to leave, and that's when he realized he didn't even have his phone charger with him. 
"Fuck," he muttered, rooting around in his bag but coming up with nothing. Maybe it got lost in his room in the barracks when he dumped his bag out? Maybe it was in his duffle which he checked at the airline desk. Regardless, he didn't have time to try to buy a new one, because his flight was already boarding by the time he found the gate. After questioning the flight attendants as to whether or not they had the type of charger he needed, he gave up hope, tossed his phone into his bag and tried to sleep for as much of the ten hour flight as he possibly could. He would be home with his family soon enough.
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You played the voicemail message from Bradley over and over again, but you could barely understand a word that he said. It sounded garbled and fuzzy, and it kept cutting out. He said something about being in Tokyo and something about Noah, and then he told you he loved you, but that's all you could figure out for sure.
"Can you understand what he's saying?" you asked softly, holding up the phone for Natasha to listen to it pretty much as soon as she walked through your front door in her uniform. "I've been trying to decipher this all day."
She took it from your hand and listened to it on speakerphone and then listened again with it pressed to her ear as she made a face. "Hang on," she muttered, playing it a third time. 
She'd been staying at the house with you since your overnight visit to the emergency room. She had essentially been doing everything for you and Noah so you barely had to lift a finger after work each day. You wouldn't have been able to do it on your own, but every time you tried to thank her, she told you it was no big deal and that Bradley was her best friend. You were afraid you were eating into her time with Javy, but she just rolled her eyes and said, "Hoes before bros."
She listened to the message one more time before she said, "It kind of sounds like he's coming home? And he's going to arrive after midnight? And he's getting an Uber from the airport?"
Your heart beat faster. "Do you think he means tonight?"
Noah came running into the living room with a coloring sheet in each hand and Skittles bounding after him. "Aunt Natasha!"
"Hey squirt," she said, picking him up and flying him around the room. She turned back to you and said, "Hopefully it means he'll be back tonight. Let's just leave the porch light on after dinner in case." Then she hauled Noah off to the kitchen where she started cooking while you took a shower. 
Dr. Kelly had immediately cut your hours back for which you were so thankful. She was very understanding when you talked to her. Tomorrow was Halloween, and it was Saturday. The plan was for Natasha to wear the costume you originally bought for Bradley, but if he arrived home tonight and was able to function tomorrow, maybe he'd want to go out to collect candy himself. You were just aching to see him at this point, and now your skin was tingling with the anticipation of him holding you.
After you ate, you tried to clean, but Natasha said, "I'll clean up after Noah's in bed." And then she sent you to the couch with a blanket while she and Noah took Skittles for a long walk down to the beach. You fell asleep there shortly after they left, and you weren't surprised that you ended up in your bed even before Noah was in his for the night. 
You let Natasha take care of everything while you tried to text Bradley again. You'd been trying all day, but he hadn't responded to a single one of them. You checked to see which flights were currently on their way from Tokyo to San Diego, and three of them were arriving late tonight. Honestly, the garbled voicemail had you on edge all day long, making you more exhausted than usual. You fell asleep hoping that he was on one of the flights and that he would be home soon.
And then you woke up to a loud voice coming from the living room. You jolted in bed, throwing the covers off of you in alarm before you realized that the voice was familiar.
"Princess? Baby, it's me! It's Bradley. I didn't want to scare you."
"Bradley," you gasped, jumping out of bed and grabbing at your nightstand until you could get your footing. "Bradley!" you called out a little louder.
"It's me, Baby," he answered. "Is Nat here? Why is her SUV in the driveway?"
You nearly collided with his best friend in the dark hallway, and when you both made it out to the dimly lit living room, you saw him standing there. Tears filled your eyes as you raced for him, and he picked you up into his arms and cradled you against his big body while Skittles whimpered at his feet.
"Daddy," you whispered, aware that Natasha was standing right behind you. "I missed you so much."
He kissed along your neck and your cheek and all of the parts of your face that he could reach as he said, "I love you. I love you so much. I missed you and Noah and the baby." He ran his nose along the shell of your ear and said, "Hey, Nat. What are you doing here? And why are you holding my mom's antique lamp?"
You turned to glance at her over your shoulder where she was indeed standing with the lamp in her hand at her side in her ratty old shirt and lounge pants. "I was making sure you were really you and not an intruder."
He laughed. "You were going to beat the shit out of me with a lamp?"
"Absolutely," she said with a yawn. "Welcome home." Then she turned and went back to the extra bedroom leaving the two of you alone.
Bradley's lips were on yours immediately, and even though you knew you had so much to tell him, you let yourself enjoy the indulgence of his kisses. You whimpered against his mouth and brushed your fingers softly through his hair. "I'm assuming we need to talk," he murmured. "You wanna tell me why she's here?"
You nodded and whispered, "Let's go to the bedroom."
He left his bags on the floor and carried you there immediately, setting you on the unmade bed and dropping down next to you. The room was pretty dark, and you curled up against his body, getting as close to him as you could. You inhaled his scent and soaked up his warmth, finally feeling better than you had in over a month. All of the fear seemed to wash away as he said, "I'm sorry I only left you that one message, but my phone died, and I can't find my charger. Nobody on my flight had the right one either, because apparently my phone is as ancient as I am."
You laughed softly. "I like vintage things, remember?"
"I do recall that," he replied easily. "Is tonight the first night Nat slept here?"
You took a deep breath and whispered, "No. She's been staying here for about a week to help out. Ever since I started... bleeding."
"Bleeding?" he echoed, his arm wrapping around you a little tighter as you nodded against his neck and tried to gather your thoughts. "Princess, what happened?"
His voice was alert and strong yet worried and cautious, and you told him, "I went to the bathroom last week, and when I wiped I was bleeding." His sharp intake of breath had you scrambling as you said, "The baby is okay."
"Are you okay?" he asked, gently rolling you onto your back to get a better look at your face. "Fuck. I should have never agreed to go away." He ran his big hand across your forehead and down your cheek. "Are you okay?"
"I'm okay," you promised as you cried for what seemed like the hundredth time. "I was just so scared," you admitted, your voice barely a squeak. "I was so scared the baby was gone."
You realized Bradley's fingertips were rubbing soothing circles against your side as he whispered, "I'm sorry I left. I'm so sorry I wasn't here to take care of everything. Please, tell me what happened. Tell me everything."
--------------------------
Bradley got you cuddled under the covers, and he turned the lamp on so he could better see your face. You looked beautiful if not exhausted, and he was so grateful for his best friend being there for you. "I guess I overdid it a little bit," you admitted. "I took some extra hours at work and started getting the bedroom ready for the baby. I just wanted the weeks to pass quickly, you know? When I started bleeding, I called Natasha, and she came right over. She's basically been here since then."
He kissed your nose. "What did the doctors do?"
You closed your eyes and whispered, "They checked me over. Every inch. And they found that I needed progesterone shots. They caught it just in time, so maybe it was good that I ended up there."
Bradley felt like an idiot, but it didn't matter as long as you were okay. "What's the progesterone for exactly?"
You smiled as you snuggled closer to him. "It'll make my uterus better for the baby. Safer. The injections are pretty common, and I only need to get them a few more times. But I'm tired of all the needles, and now I can kind of understand how some of my own patients feel."
Bradley laced his finger with yours and asked, "And you're sure you're okay? Perfectly safe and healthy?"
"Yes. The baby is, too."
He kissed your forehead as he realized he was crying. "Just as long as you're okay, Princess. I love you." You nodded as you fell asleep, and he knew how badly you needed to rest. After he turned the light off, he held you against his chest and tried to make sense of everything. 
You and the baby were okay. Your doctor and the staff from the emergency room were monitoring your blood work every week now. You were getting injections in your thigh which were making your leg sore and bruised, but it was helping the baby. As much as he'd loved flying Shadowhawk, he regretted his time away from home a little bit more now.
When you rolled away from him around six o'clock, he had barely slept. Carefully, he extracted himself from the bed, and Skittles came trotting right over to him. He picked her up and straightened out the wrinkled clothing he had been wearing for way too long, but when he walked out to his kitchen, he found Nat was already there. She turned to face him as Skittles started licking his face, and he walked right into her arms for a hug.
"Thank you," he whispered, letting her hold him while he cried. "Is she really okay? She told me she's fine."
She rubbed his back and said, "Mostly. I think. She is stubborn, Bradley. When I got here, she drove herself to the emergency room before I even had a full grasp of the fact that she was pregnant. She told me to stay with Noah until she came home, and when I told her I'd get Javy to come stay here while I met her at the hospital, she yelled at me."
"That tracks," he said softly. He thought about how you stood up for him and Noah and fought alongside him for custody. Even after you got hurt. Even after he hurt you. 
"She was terrified that you'd be upset about a potential miscarriage."
Bradley felt like she slapped him in the face. "Shit," he grunted as she released him from the hug. It wasn't like that kind of thing could usually be prevented. He would have been sad, yeah, but only because he was so excited. He wouldn't have been upset with you though. Not at all. "I'll talk to her more about that when she wakes up." He scratched his head and set Skittles down. "Did you clean my kitchen?"
"Yes," she replied evenly as she switched on the coffee maker. "And if you try to thank me for anything I did, I swear to god, I will fucking key your Bronco. I did it for her, because she needed help."
He caught himself before he could thank her again, too afraid to find out if she was telling the truth. She probably was. "I'll make sure she's getting all the rest she needs. She will not be lifting a finger around here."
"That's what I like to hear," she said, patting him on the chest. "Now, I'm going to take one of your travel mugs full of your overpriced coffee from your fancy machine and head back to my place. I'll call you later, and I'll stop by tonight to hand out candy to your trick-or-treaters while you take Noah around the neighborhood."
"Shit, I guess I need to go out and buy candy and costumes and everything."
As her coffee brewed, Nat said, "It's all been taken care of. The bags of candy are on top of the fridge."
Bradley glanced in that direction and said, "You have to let me repay you, Nat."
She grabbed the travel mug and pulled her keys out of her pocket, brandishing them in his face. "Fuck around and find out, Bradshaw. You will not thank me, and you will not pay me back. You'll just let me come over and play with Noah at least once a week now while you take care of your wife-to-be. Those are my terms. Have a nice day."
"Okay," he called out, following her to the door to make sure her key went directly into her own ignition where it belonged. Then he got to work, pulling up some recipes on his phone; he was going to attempt to be the best dad and almost husband in the entire world, because that's what his family needed. 
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If you have been through any of this kind of shit like I have, I'm sending you a hug. It's stressful and scary, and not something you should have to deal with alone. Bradley is home and ready to be the absolute best. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
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heyyy!! i love your writing especially the night shift! i was wondering if i could submit a request for bradley? just him being physically affectionate and always having a hand on you (i feel like that’s his love language idk idk), maybe we’re at the hard deck with the dagger squad and it’s just super fluffy! overall rooster is just hubby material, and maybe there’s a cute kiss or make out sesh outside the hard deck or against his bronco! i trust you haha and i love your writing so whatever you think works! :))
touchy
prompt: it doesn’t matter where you are, but bradley HAS to touch you, it’s his love language it doesn’t matter where on your body: on your arm, thigh, knee. for a tall gruff military guy, he’s like a little teddy bear
warnings: literally js fluff, maybe a little suggestive
a/n: this was such a cute request, hope you enjoy!
“Christ, are you ready yet?” Bradley called from your couch. It was easy for him to say; all he had to do was put on a Hawaiian shirt, a tank top, and jeans. You, however, had to shower, shave your legs, dry and style your hair, do your makeup, pick and outfit, the list goes on.
Bradley acts annoyed, but secretly he enjoys it. He’d wait for you forever. He loved laying on your couch, already dressed for wherever you were going, and listening to you get ready. He’d continue to act annoyed every time, though, cause your little eye roll as he complained was worth it. He was itching to get up and go see you in the bathroom, but you barred him from entering while you were doing your makeup so you could “be in your zone.” He’d pretend he wasn’t bothered by it, but every second he was away from you he wished he wasn’t. He wanted to touch you, kiss you, smell your perfume, anything. He wanted you, all the time.
Tonight, the team was going to the Hard Deck since it was Friday. It was a spot you two would attend regularly, but Bradley loved how done up you got every time you went. Without fail, you were the most beautiful girl in the room, makeup or not, and he’d tell you that over and over.
“Shush,” you replied, spraying one last bit of perfume on before stepping out of the bathroom. You smoothed out your dress, which was light blue, and it hugged your curves so well. You hadn’t looked up at him yet, but you heard a whistle.
He stood up, not hiding that he was looking you up and down. You thought you heard a “damn” whispered under his breath but you weren’t sure. You also weren’t completely sure about your outfit.
“I really don’t know if I like these heels. It was between these and another pair and I might go-“
“You look perfect,” he said as he grabbed both your hands, pulling you into him. You felt his hands snake down to grab your ass, and he couldn’t help but kiss your neck. “So perfect,” he murmured into your skin, “that we could skip the whole bar thing and just stay at home. And if you’re unsure about the shoes, I could take those right off for ya.”
You pulled yourself away from him to keep from possibly agreeing. “Bradleyyy, you love the Hard Deck!”
“That I do,” he said as he pulled you back to him. “You know what I love more?”
“Hm?”
“My girl.”
You could help but shyly smile. “Well,” you stated, “tell her she can wait then.”
He scoffed at your joke as he nuzzled into your neck.
“Come on, let’s go!” you turned around and dragged him by the hand out the front door.
He groaned as he followed after you like a puppy. You walked like this all the way down the gravel path to the driveway. He opened the Bronco door for you on the passenger’s side, then walked around and got into the drivers seat.
As soon as he turned on the car and started driving, his hand took its common place on the inside of your upper thigh. His thumb absentminded rubbed your skin gently. You looked over at him and just watched him. His mustache and hair together looked so good against his tan skin and flowy Hawaiian shirt.
“What?” he was at a red light, and he lolled his head to look at you with his sunglasses on.
“Nothing.”
A small smirk was on his face as he looked back forward, giving your thigh a squeeze.
“I love you,” he murmured.
“I love you, too,” you whispered.
- - -
The Hard Deck was crowded tonight, but it didn’t take long to find your group. You met Phoenix at the bar; she was standing there talking to Penny, who greeted you with a drink. You smiled at her and joined in on their conversation.
Rooster was in the process of being convinced by the guys to play a game of pool.
“Mind if we steal your girl for a little while, Rooster?” Penny called out over the noise of the crowd and music.
“If you promise to give her back.” He smiled at her.
He then kissed you on the cheek from behind, squeezing your hips as he whispered that he’d come find you later before he got dragged off. Your knees almost buckled, you wouldn’t lie. Phoenix looked at you with feigned admiration.
“Aren’t you two just adorable?” she teased.
“Two peas in a pod,” Penny quipped, winking at you.
You couldn’t even be annoyed at them, because you were beaming. “Whatever, guys.”
“So… what’s been going on with you two? Spill!” Phoenix pressed you.
You knew Penny would never ask you that sort of question outright, but she was definitely leaning in to hear.
You loved having girl talk, and you could talk about Bradley for hours and hours, happily bending to Phoenix’s wishes. You glanced over to the pool table to find Bradley laughing with the cue in his hand, a beer in the other. You girls’ conversation went on into the night as you lost track of time.
- - -
Bradley played a tipsy game of pool with Hangman, Bob, and Coyote while the others sat and watched, sipping lazily on beers. He and Bob won of course, and game after game went by into the night. Every once in a while, he’d glance up at you, making sure you were still there and he could still see you. You had no idea how bad he just wanted to take you home in that dress, but he’d wait it out. Seeing you so happy talking with your friends was worth it.
Before he knew it, though, he was a few beers in and he just couldn’t get you off his mind. He checked his watch and time had flown. It had been a few hours since you got here, and it was now a little before 1 AM.
- - -
You’d stopped drinking after your second drink; you didn’t feel like getting drunk tonight. The crowd was dying down and so was your energy.
“Well, ladies, I think it may be time to call it. I’m tapping out,” you told them. They agreed with you.
“I was thinking that also. Need help closing or anything, Penny?” Phoenix asked as she looked around for Hangman, Bob, and Coyote, the group she came with.
“Oh I’m good. Not much left to do around here,” Penny responded as she finished polishing glasses. “You girls have a good night.” You and Phoenix thanked her. Phoenix hugged you goodbye, promising to call you tomorrow and saying that she’d see you at work Monday.
Then it was just you. You looked around at the dwindling crowd, narrowing your eyes to try and find-
Then his familiar arms slid around your waist.
“Hey, baby,” he whispered.
You turned in his arms, and you were now face to face with him. “Hi,” you smiled up at him. “I’m tired.”
“Me, too.” He couldn’t get his hands or gaze off you. He just looked down at you while holding you close. It was his favorite thing to do. “Lead the way.”
And you did, all the way out to his car. The parking lot was void of people except for you two. He hadn’t kissed you in so long. As soon as you got out of sight from everyone he backed you against his car and his lips passionately met yours. His hands roamed so desperately. You hummed in surprise as his hands found the back of your thighs and lifted you onto the hood of his car.
“I’m sorry baby,” he said through kissing you. “I know we should continue this at home, I just want you so bad.”
“Take me home, then,” you said breathlessly. All of your self control was gone by now.
“Gladly.”
And boy did he speed home.
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sunlightmurdock · 2 days
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The Odyssey | 1.4 | Bradley Bradshaw
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In the middle of nowhere with no power, the world you knew back home feels further away than ever.
Warnings: enemies to lovers, power imbalance (professor / student relationship), age gap (22 / 33), swearing, infidelity, nudity, mentions of erections, making out.
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“Mm, che pioverá.” Teodora had sighed, early that morning, while sitting at the breakfast table with Bradley and Pasquale, her son, and her daughter-in-law surrounding her. The three of them had paused eating to look up at the beaming sun, the still trees and the cloudless sky.
Sweat was already beading at the back of Bradley’s neck as he chewed at a mouthful of scrambled eggs.
Sandro had brushed her off with a simple shake of his head and an affectionate eye roll. Bradley had flashed an amused smile between the two of them and swallowed down his bite. Pasquale had hummed a thoughtful, but not necessarily agreeing sound.
The three of them already had plans for the day to drive out and take a look at the spinitrae at the university an hour away, after Bradley’s morning run, Pasquale’s phone call home and Sandro’s morning swim.
As usual around here, Teodora was right.
You’re woken by the first rumble of thunder. Face down, your arms wrapped securely around the pillow, Bradley’s blue shirt wrapped securely around your body. Only thirty minutes after the two of them had so briskly dismissed the old woman’s claims.
Already since then, the landscape has transformed. The skies are thick with dark clouds and the wind whips at the trees, knocking fruit to the ground with ease.
With Bradley supposedly gone for the day, you had figured that things around here would be a bit of a free for all. Zoe had suggested digging through the Gabris’ VHS collection in search of a movie in English while you go through pages of Ovid. Nothing to get up particularly early for.
The thunder makes you lift your head and frown a bit. It’s not like you have been really keeping up with the weather forecast, but yesterday’s clear skies hadn’t exactly alerted you to an oncoming storm. It’s barely rained at all since you got here.
Stretching your legs across cool sheets, you sigh and roll onto your back. It’s not cold, per se, but once you’ve strayed from the warmth of your sleeping position your skin starts to prickle with chill.
Your engagement ring stares back at you from its discarded spot on the dresser by the window. This place isn’t like a hotel, Malcolm wouldn’t have a clue which numbers to punch to reach you all the way out here. He wouldn’t even know which province you’re in. You might as well be on a different planet.
It kind of feels like you are.
The point of closing the window is what drives you out of bed first of all. You pad along the floor and turn to the window, all blackened skies and pouring rain for miles around.
Then, a figure by the trees catches your eye. Broad shoulders, tanned skin, that defined line running down the middle of his chest — you recognise him right away.
Bradley is soaked from the rain, wearing a pair of blue running shorts. Caught in the middle of the downpour, he jogs back along the path as rain beats down his back.
Your fingertips push back the edge of the curtain as your shoulder leans up against the window frame. The Gabris estate really is beautiful, miles of stretching, rolling fields and hills with dustings of green forests at its edge..
Those blue shorts sit low on his waist and they’re still exposing so much of his long, muscled legs. His chest is wet, and that cross necklace of his bounces against his collarbones with each footfall.
Maybe he feels the eyes on him, or maybe he catches you in his peripheral — either way, his gaze flickers up to the window and he catches sight of you. Catches you smiling at him.
Through the rain-splattered window pane, he spots his shirt wrapped around your shoulders, just a few of the buttons fastened. Your skin peeking through the gaps between the open buttons. Even with his run cut short, his mouth grows dry all of a sudden.
He lifts a soaked palm and cards it through his hair as he slows to a stop, attempting to tame his drenched curls. From outside, it’s hard to really tell what he’s thinking when he looks at you, especially under the cover of the rain.
You lift your hand from your side and wave your fingers at him.
The rest of the group might be up, they might not. Not a single one of them would know yet that Bradley’s trip to the university has been canceled, they wouldn’t be looking for him. Not in your room, especially.
He stands there for a second and lets himself fall into the fantasy. Walking up those stairs and clicking that heavy wooden door shut behind him. Working open the buttons on that shirt, coming to realize that you aren’t wearing anything under it.
You’re driving him crazy, and he savors every second of it. He can’t stand and stare for too long, he can already feel all of his attention rushing south. He swallows. Then, he presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek and blinks the rain from his eyes, shaking his head.
You take your bottom lip between your teeth and tug at it and shit— that really doesn’t help his problem at all. His mouth ghosts at a smile as he reminds himself to move.
His attention is back on the path ahead as he resumes his jog back to the house. Thunder rumbles in the air.
You’re free to resume your staring. You wonder if he’s even wearing underwear under those tiny shorts— doesn’t look like it.
The thought makes your cheeks hot. His perpetually warm hands soothing your chilled thighs, brushing so coolly under the cotton of his shirt, reclaiming it as he unfastens the buttons, and your mouth on his chest, the salt from his skin— his shoes on the stairs snap you out of it.
The villa is old and the stairs creak at every opportunity. He’s skipping steps, his long strides make that easy and you hear him pause at the top. His room is to the right. Yours is just a bit to the left. You swallow, holding your breath to listen out.
His footsteps fall to the right. One, two, three steps and you hear his door open and close. A dejected sigh pushes past your lips as you lean back into the wall.
He’s wet, and probably sweaty from his run. He always showers before everyone else, too. Your towel is hanging on the hook behind the door. You cross the room briskly and grab it on the way out, crossing into the hallway as he steps back out of his room, also holding his towel.
You’re two steps closer to the bathroom than he is. His eyes flicker down to your bare legs, then at his shirt hanging partially open across your chest. Finally, he meets your gaze and smiles a bit.
“Morning.”
“Morning.” You copy back, turning on your heel and crossing the hall to the bathroom. He watches your hand settle on the door knob. He catches the purposeful way you glance back at him over your shoulder, and catches on.
He thought about going into your room. He really did. With everything you have learned in the past few days, he has been trying to give you space — he figured the last thing you would want would be him getting handsy.
With the way you’re looking at him now, he’s not so sure.
He checks the hallway. Still empty. With Sandro out swimming, Pasquale yapping away in the kitchen, and Dorie painting out in the sun room, it’s like you’re alone.
He starts towards you, slowly.
“I like your shirt.”
You glance downward. This was bold. It wasn’t exactly well thought-out, rushing into the hallway barely dressed. He’s still barely dressed. His hair and his skin are still wet from the rain. He still looks warm.
“Thanks.” You answer him softly, as he comes to stand before you. He reaches out and finds your skin with his fingertips, gently stroking a pattern against your thigh.
“You about to shower?” Bradley asks you, close enough that his stomach is just about brushing yours. Your mouth is dry, and you forgot to close the window when you got out of bed. You shiver. Finally, when you remember you’ve been asked a question, you nod at him.
He hums, “Weird. Me too.”
Your eyes widen, somewhere between shock and excitement. Then, there’s a sudden cold feeling in the pit of your stomach. It’s like a physical force pushing you back. Your mother, maybe, trying to push you in the right direction from across the Atlantic.
He’s not sure what’s gotten into him, or more pressingly, what’s gotten into you. He had given you his shirt as a kind gesture, and here you are, using it against him in such a cruel, cruel way.
As his mind crosses over into the territory of saying fuck it and suggesting that he take you right here in the hallway, your gaze meets his firmly and your fingers twist the doorknob.
He swallows, feeling the nylon of his shorts grow tighter at the semblance of an invitation. The bathroom door creeps open, and you glance towards it.
He shouldn’t. Your head is all over the place. Keeping his hands to himself is the right move.
“Ladies first, I’ll wait.” He tells you, shooting you a quick wink.
That’s a no. It’s a kind way of saying no, but it’s a no nonetheless. He doesn’t want to. A quick glance downward proves to you that he's half hard in those running shorts.
“No need.” You whisper, hoping to god that was the right thing to say. The two of you can’t possibly keep whispering out in the hallway, half dressed like this. He doesn’t answer, he just blinks at you.
You swallow a breath and hold it, stepping past him and into the bathroom. The door remains loudly open behind you, like it’s a car-alarm going off right in Bradley’s ear, actually.
He inhales and steps inside, shutting the door behind him. The alarm stops.
“Stop. Look at me,” Somehow now, he feels the need to be quieter than before, and not just because this old bathroom echoes. You fidget, bare feet on cold tile as you stand before him. His brows knit together a bit. “Are you sure about this?”
You purse your lips for a moment and look down at yourself. Honesty is the best policy. You just have to figure out why you’re here yourself.
“It’s just showering.” You say it confidently, like you aren’t even trying to convince yourself. It surprises him. “Doesn’t have to be… sexual. It’s just two people in the shower. Together.”
“Right. Naked.” He reminds you.
“Right.” You copy back, hoping you sound more certain than you feel.
“And you’re cool with that?” He checks. The way he raises his eyebrows tells you that he expects you not to be. In the same breath, you catch the way his eyes flicker to the shower head behind the two of you.
You, him. Naked. You have toed that line before. It wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t bad at all actually, it was incredible.
“Yeah.” Your sudden why-wouldn’t-it-be attitude has Bradley prickling with suspicion about your motives this morning, and the morality in being in here with you when he’s certain that your head isn’t quite clear about what happened with your fiancé.
But, he reaches to his right, and bolts the lock across the door. His eyes study your face, and his fingers linger for a moment against the brass. Upholding your unspoken role in this, you twist away from him and turn on the water.
So, we’re doing this. Bradley holds onto that breath, not quite ready to let the thought pass or the exhale follow, as he drops his towel to rest against the sink basin.
You’re bent at the waist, calculating the measure of hot and cold water between the two taps, and Bradley is met with an unobstructed view of your legs. In the vein of following your impulses this morning, he considers sinking to his knees and letting his mouth greet them — but he doesn’t. He half considers tucking his hands behind his back just to remove the temptation at all.
He thinks back to that movie he saw last November, with Anthony Michael Hall and the other kids. In particular, the shower scene where too inept teenage boys stand awkwardly in the back of a shower cubicle, not knowing what to do with their hands, while a beautiful woman showers in front of them.
And then you turn to look at him again.
“You first.”
“Me…? — right,” Clothes. You’re talking about clothes. With his running shoes, he probably has more articles of clothing on than you do. Depends if you’re wearing underwear, he guesses. He isn’t. He kicks off the shoes and goes for his socks next, warm condensation starts to permeate the space between the two of you. Strange, this room feels awfully cramped already, he doesn’t know where the steam finds the space to join. “You just going to stand and watch?”
With his socks gone, he only has one article of clothing left. He hooks a thumb into the waistband of those blue nylon shorts and pushes just an inch, revealing a soft tan line and a sharp V following the shape of his hip.
Stiffly, your fingers find the buttons of his shirt. His pulse quickens, watching you watch him.
“Can I?” Bradley asks finally, rushing it out at once. He gestures to the one button left fastened, sitting above your navel.
If this was anyone else, Bradley would probably already be in the shower by now. This pace is unfamiliar, and foreign for him. He’s not quite sure where to tread.
You give him a little nod.
He takes one step forwards and pinches the button between his index and thumb, popping it open as his other hand fits securely against the small of your back and pushes you into him. There’s a second of observation as your bare stomach comes flush against his, where his eyes won’t leave your face for fear of missing some kind of a sign.
Being undressed by him as steam clouds the room, him doing absolutely nothing to hide the darkened look in his eyes. You weren’t fooling anyone by pretending that this could have been something innocent. You might as well accept it for what it is.
As his fingers dip under the material covering each of your shoulders and guide it back, off of your arms, you stretch up and kiss his mouth softly. Experimentally. He shuts his eyes and waits. Your second kiss is firmer, and your fingers reach for the nape of his neck.
He follows suit, relieved finally that he has some kind of sign about how you’re feeling about this. His hand hugs the nape of your neck, his nose bumping your cheek, his tongue swiping across your lip.
‘I like you, you know?’ Your words from yesterday afternoon have been playing in his mind all night. He’s an idiot for not saying more, he just hadn’t wanted to push his luck.
“Come on, we can’t be in here all morning.” He remembers, against your mouth.
“Right.” You sigh, eyes closed as you lean in for another kiss.
With your back to him, you drop your underwear to the ground with his shirt as he steps out of his shorts. You step into the tub first, falling under the safety of the warm spray. He steps in behind you, his fingers finding your waist.
You’re naked. Completely naked, and so is he. With your back to him, he can’t really see you, and you’ve no way of seeing him. The thought of turning around makes your chest feel tight.
He hasn’t ever had to feel so calculated about this before. Is he an appropriate distance away? — well, nothing about this is appropriate, but is he making it worse? — Are you waiting for him to make a move or do you want him to keep his hands to himself?
“I thought you were going to the university today.” You say to the wall of tile in front of you.
“Yeah. Weather took a turn, the road through town floods when it rains like this, apparently.” Bradley answers you.
The only parts of him that are touching you are his fingers. Experimentally, you lean your head back and as expected, it falls to rest against his shoulder. It just looks like you’re rinsing your hair.
His fingers stray from your hip and unfurl across your bare stomach, as he drops his head to press a soft kiss to the curve of your shoulder. That’s safe enough.
Heart racing, you lift your arms and pull your hair back, saturating it under the stream of water. As you stretch up to do so, your back curves away from him and your ass grazes his thigh.
He swallows thickly. Looking down, he knows you feel the way his half-hard package is pressing into the back of your hip. He turns his face toward your neck, kissing softly.
In a last ditch effort to regulate your breathing before he offers you a nebulizer, you screw your eyes shut. In the dark, you feel his heartbeat against your back, his warm fingers smoothing along your middle, his lips on your throat, and his erection behind you.
“God.”
His mouth stills against your neck. The tickle of his mustache alerts you to the hint of a smile on his lips.
“You alright?” He’s referring to the way you had audibly whimpered inches from his ear, in this extremely tight enclosed space, of course.
“Mhm.” You squeak.
He nuzzles the tip of his nose against the crook of your jaw. “You’re shaking.”
You swallow. “It’s cold.”
“It’s not.” He reminds you.
Screwing your eyes shut once again, you “Yeah. I’m sorry.”
Slowly, he tucks two fingers around the hair at the nape of your neck and guides it away from your shoulders. With your eyes closed, you feel his breath on your neck first. It’s cooler than the steam from the shower and it hits exactly the right spot between your collar and jaw to make you shiver.
He takes hold of your bicep and turns you steadily towards him, biting at his lip as he finds you just opening your eyes. He knows that if you look too long, you’ll panic. He presses swiftly forwards, his bare chest flush against yours as his open mouth closes around your pulse point.
Mm. The sound slips from your mouth before he is even done with the first kiss, while his fingers are still stretching around your hip and while his tongue is just softly greeting your warm skin.
For a man who, less than three days ago, was adamantly telling you in the streets of Florence that sleeping together would be a bad idea, Bradley sure does seem to be okay with all of this.
He’s okay with it. Too comfortable with it, really. He’s still holding back. If he wasn’t, he would flatten his palm against your ass and pull you against him, and let you feel exactly how comfortable with it he really is.
Instead, he focuses his attention on his mouth. Flowing opposite to the droplets of water, he sucks softly at the tender skin, trailing towards your jaw.
Each time his lips close around a new inch of skin, there’s an urging ebb that prods at you like electricity, buzzing within you and leaving you powerless. His frame towers before you; you know he would catch you if your knees actually did give out but you’d rather die than live through the embarrassment.
Like he shares the same sentiment of keeping you on your feet, Bradley’s hands flex around your waist, curling tighter around your soft skin. He pulls back, sweeping a hand through his wet curls as he studies your face.
He’s getting better at this, reading you.
His eyes break away from yours, and his gaze slips downwards. He’s dead quiet, drinking you in, studying your naked body.
The water droplets seem to have it all figured out. Spilling over your shoulders, flowing along the valley between your breasts. His gaze lingers there for more than just a few droplets.
Each one of your shaking breaths disrupts the pattern in a new way, rise and fall, spill and flow. Water beads across the soft flesh, flowing right past the warmed, softened, flushed skin of your nipples.
Maybe that water doesn’t have it all figured out after all — Bradley thinks there’s no way he could pass that by so freely.
Then, he watches where the droplets spill to once they pass your breasts by. They surge across your soft stomach, spilling across your abdomen, dripping into the navel and tracing the dulcet curve of your hips.
He hasn’t ever had you like this. Unobstructed, unwavering — all-encompassing. There could be a flood outside and he wouldn’t care. He knows he should be grateful for this, alone, and he is, it’s enough, you’re more than enough, but there’s a greed growing in him that wants more.
He wants to inhale the fresh, soapy smell of your skin. Taste the remnants of yourself on your skin, before it’s scrubbed clean. Feel you melt into him. His gaze flickers back up to yours like a drumbeat.
It makes you stiffen, the sudden look in his eyes. All red-blooded, lust-driven, filthy thoughts pooling into the soft browns of his irises.
Before he loses the nerve, or before you do, he tips your chin back swiftly and kisses you hard enough that the two of you fall into the cold tiles behind you.
Sturdy, centuries old structure behind your back and even sturdier, warm weight against your front, you’re pinned at an angle and your feet feel like they’re slipping but you’re smart enough to know that falling isn’t an option.
A deep and desperate sound falls from his lips as he pulls back, his forehead knocking into yours. Your mouth hangs open, your eyes wide, like you know just what Bradley’s thinking when he looks at it.
He squeezes at your body, leaning forwards and letting his mouth cover yours. You’re just about growing comfortable with it, with his nose bumping your cheek and his broad shoulders, his weight pinning you to the wall. Then, his hand skims along the centre of your back and without warning, squeezes firmly around the flesh of your ass.
It’s not that it feels bad. In fact, there’s something that makes you want to keen into the rough touch that you don’t quite understand. But all of a sudden, it clicks that you’re pinned between him and the wall, and his weight is a heavy anchor, his hands are everywhere and his mouth is hot.
He feels your fingernails press weakly into his bicep.
“Stop.” you tell him quietly. Really, you aren’t even sure if he would hear you. Maybe Malcolm hadn’t heard you, if you had asked him to stop.
He pulls back swiftly and looks down at you, both hands planting safely on your hips. He’s watching you carefully, but he doesn’t have to search hard go find what he’s looking for.
“Yeah?” He says softly, nodding.
It’s an instant thing, the way you shrink back into the wall behind you and duck your head. “I’m sorry.”
“No,” he swallows and gives a shake of his head. He got carried away, that’s all. “You’re right. We should hurry up.”
And just like that, it’s not about sex. The fear in your eyes fades to recognition, and Bradley leans forwards and presses his lips to your forehead.
The two of you finish your shower in strictly platonic nature. One by one, you duck out of the bathroom and leave behind any evidence of your morning together, to get ready for the day.
Trees bow under the weight of the fat raindrops as the rumble of thunder grows closer. The villa groans and creaks, shutters rattling and slamming. The power gets knocked out a little after two, leaving very little for anyone in the house to do.
Bodies are strewn lazily around the living room everywhere you look. Luke’s taking up the majority of the couch, his raven-coloured hair tucked back under a Jets cap and a book balanced against his sternum, a concentrated frown plastered across his face.
Bradley got the good spot, tucked halfway into the reading desk in the far right corner of the room. His face is illuminated by a cluster of flickering candles, sitting amongst his piles of papers. Alessandro sits beside him, the two of them have been talking away for hours now. Their conversation is muted for the benefit of others, but you can hear the occasional Italian cuss word from your spot on the floor.
“Do you think they used to jerk it to these pictures?” Zoe whispers. You glance up at her, then across at Abigail.
She grins, lifting up the book and turning it onto its side, displaying a printed artwork like a centerfold. “See? Like an ancient playboy? — Miss June, and Miss July.”
Bradley looks up as the three of you giggle for the third time in ten minutes. It doesn’t take him long, when looking at the way Zoe is pointing out the spread legs of a woman riding a man, to notice the comparison she’s making to modern pornography.
He’s used to it by now, his students pointing at tits in the books and giggling to themselves. If she was doing her work, she would be reading about exactly what made the mulier equitans so popular in Roman art.
You’re laying on your front, looking up from the pages of your notes, with a soft grin toying at your lips. None of them know how you started your morning.
Today, Bradley is studying a passage from Ovid’s Art of Love, depicting various forms of copulation and the cultural attitude to them at that time. Sexual variety fascinated the masses back then. Paintings in homes, carved into architecture, spinitrae tokens in Pompeii.
Astrology and its links to sexual preferences. An intriguing read, really.
“Man, this is a wicked storm.” Robin glances over her shoulder at the mass of bodies lazing around the living room, then back out of the window at the sheets of rain pouring onto the fields beyond.
“This is wicked boring.” Luke says from his spot on the couch. As one of Bradley’s best teaching assistants, this work comes much more easily to him than it would to most. He could finish it in thirty minutes if he wanted to.
“Hey, Bradley—“
“No.” Bradley says swiftly.
Luke’s mouth stretches into a little-brotherly kind of annoying grin as he tucks an arm behind his head. “Come on. We’re bored.”
“Sounds wicked tough, dude.” Bradley answers, looking back down to the book, mocking his student so coolly. Luke has always found an older brother in Bradley, so the taunting just makes his grin stretch wild.
From your spot on the ground, you find yourself smiling at the pages at Bradley’s joke.
“Can you teach me how to do that card trick where it’s upside down in the deck?” Luke persists. You didn’t know that Bradley knew any card tricks.
“No.” He answers bluntly, but in the kind of way that shows he’s clearly still getting some kind of enjoyment out of this rapport with Luke.
“Bradley, did you ever tell anyone else that you took piano lessons for like twelve years?” Luke asks, shooting a pointed look at the baby grand in the corner of the room.
Bradley looks up at him, and your mouth twitches. A red flush starts at his ears and spreads across his temples, onto his cheeks and down his neck. You’ve never seen a grown man blush like that.
“Don’t go there, buddy.” Bradley warns him, knowing equally embarrassing facts about Luke and starting to categorize them in his mind.
“Did you really, Bradley?” Abigail asks.
He glances at her, then makes a point of trying to focus on his work once again. Big, boyish Bradley, delicately tapping away at the keys of a piano is difficult to imagine.
“He sings too.” Luke declares.
“Luke.” Bradley warns, not looking up this time, flushed pink.
You’ve never seen Bradley be quite this shy about anything. He frowns at the pages of his book, oh, so serious.
“C’mon. One song and I’ll leave you alone. We’re bored.” For once, you’re on Luke’s side. Not that you would voice that.
The wind whips the side of the house and the shutters rattle in support of Luke’s campaign. Bradley starts to scribble down nonsense annotations in the effort of getting at least something done.
“Go find a puzzle or something.” He mutters.
“Aw, come on, Bradley, please?” Zoe joins in.
“Just one song.” Robin adds.
Bradley looks up, and finds you. Caught smiling at him from the carpet, clearly amused by the entire situation. You stare back at him, unwavering and expectant.
With a dejected exhale, he looks down at his watch. “One. And then none of you are allowed to speak to me until at least 4pm.”
You know that he would make an exception to that rule for you. There’s no planned alone time for the two of you this afternoon, since he was supposed to be out. Maybe he’s as disappointed about that as you are.
“Play something we know this time.” Luke interjects as Bradley crosses the room to the piano. Last time, Bradley sang a track from the 50s and Luke didn’t have a clue what the hell it was.
Bradley untucks the bench from the piano, and sits down. His back is straight as he removes the cover and settles his fingers onto the keys. “Uh-huh, like what?”
“What, you’re thirty-three and you don’t listen to the radio anymore?” Luke scoffs.
Bradley closes his eyes for a second and tries to think of a song that he knows how to play from this decade. He doesn’t play too much these days.
The room is quiet, even the rain seems to have quieted in anticipation for his performance.
He shoots one more pointed look toward Luke, and then presses his fingers into the keys. You settle your chin against your palm as he taps out the opening chords of I guess that’s why they call it the blues.
Just like everything he does, he makes it seem effortless, fluidly playing the melody. And then he starts to sing.
You watch him across the darkened room. The candlelight flickers on his face as lightning strikes outside. Don’t wish it away, don’t look at it like it’s forever.
His fingers press gently into the keys, the only noise in the otherwise silent room. Alessandro sits back in his chair and smiles softly, knowing how much easier Bradley would have been convinced to perform all those years ago.
His voice is deeper than you would have expected, but soft as he finishes the first verse. God, he’s handsome.
It couldn’t possibly have taken longer than four and a half minutes for him to get through the song, but it feels like you watch him play all afternoon. Broad-shouldered, serious, still flushed-pink even once he has stopped singing. He turns sheepishly to face the room.
“Encore!” Luke whoops before anyone else gets a chance to say a word. Bradley groans, pushing himself up from the chair swiftly and rolling his eyes.
“Bite me.”
Zoe whips around to face you, clearly not as captivated by the performance as you had been. “Bradley’s kinda hot when he sings.”
Your mouth flattens, purely because it occurs to you suddenly that it wouldn’t be appropriate to smile. If she thinks he’s hot when he’s singing, she would be captivated by what you had gotten to see in the shower this morning.
The afternoon workload grows tiresome quickly, and Bradley watches his students filter out of the living room one by one. You disappear with Zoe and Abigail trailing in tow a little after three.
Alessandro’s wife serves a family style dinner, since the house is full and it’s still too rainy for anyone to have other plans. Bradley sits at the far end with Sandro and Dorie, all of them talking in politely hushed tones. You are at the opposite end, finding yourself missing those private dinners the two of you had gotten to share in the city.
After dinner, Bradley knows that his room upstairs is likely to be occupied after seeing Robin’s hand wandering across Luke’s board shorts at dinner. He disappears into the study to finish up with his work, and you call it an early night.
Well, you try to. After rereading the same three pages of Sarah Keene’s Air of Enchantment six times, you give up and head back for the stairs. The house is quiet and empty feeling. Without power, you guess there isn’t a lot to do around here.
You trail your fingers along the wallpaper, rounding the entryway into the now empty living room. The bench of the piano is still untucked from where Bradley had sat earlier. You let yourself be drawn towards it, taking a seat and brushing your fingers along the keys. Dust under your fingertips, candlesticks burning around the room — you figure that Sandro or his wife must be around somewhere if there are still candles lit.
There’s no sneaking around in a house like this. The handle clicks, and the wood creaks loudly from a room away. Bradley’s weight passes across noisy floorboards, growing closer.
He was hoping to see you, trying to convince himself to stay away from your room. His lips twitch. His eyes flicker over the grey track shorts and the Nicks jersey you’re wearing, casual and comfy, with your hair down. He likes it.
“Hey.” He says softly.
“Hey.” You answer, watching him. Maybe someday you’ll talk him out of wearing those t-shirts that are too sizes too big for him, but today’s not that day. It hangs on his broad frame as he walks towards you.
He leans down and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, squeezing your shoulder with a warm palm.
“Here.” You realize suddenly, shifting over as far as you can on the bench to make room for him. He glances down, knowing he won’t fit, and decides to perch half off of the bench anyways.
At your side, Bradley considers bringing up this morning. It’s been itching at him all day to know what about his behavior in the shower had been too much. He’s been wishing he was a mind reader, really. He would love to figure out exactly what he can do to make you relax.
“I didn’t know you played piano.” You tell him, watching your fingers ghost over the keys.
“I don’t, so much anymore.” He answers.
“I liked hearing you play.” You say.
He turns his head, smoothing his fingers along the length of your spine. Maybe he won’t hit Luke for revealing his secret after all.
Luke wants to do what Bradley does, and Bradley is only nine years older than he is — they had grown close quickly when Luke has first started TA’ing for him. Luke knows plenty about Bradley, and Bradley knows plenty about Luke. He hopes the two of you never get to making small talk, really.
“Will you play it again?”
He blinks, broken from his train of thought, and finding you looking at him now. Bradley looks between the piano and your face, his brows drawing slightly together.
”The same thing?” Bradley asks, displaying that awful habit he’s got of leaning one of those thick shoulders into you, crowding your space and grounding you with his presence. His thumb brushes tenderly over the tip of your nose, then across the bow of your top lip as he tips his head to one side. “You don’t want to hear anything else?”
You purse your lips in thought, then shake your head. The way your lips twist and hint at a smile just drives him crazy. Like he really has to work for the full thing. You shrug your shoulders at him. “Can’t a girl want a private rendition?”
He taps his thumb against your chin, his fingers stretching along the underside of your jaw. He doesn’t make you work for the smile that he gives you. Really, he would have to fight to keep it off of his face. “Fine.”
The tip of his tongue dips from between his lips to wet them, then he sighs softly and straightens into proper posture and turns his attention towards the keys. Your arm loops under his, your head settles to rest against his shoulder. He likes that feeling.
Wind whips rain against the shutters. The older ones creak and bang in complaint, unprepared for such miserable weather. Bradley’s fingers tap fluidly at the keys. Your fingertips trail the vein in his forearm up to the cuff of his rolled shirt sleeve.
He sings quieter than before. After all, this performance is just for you now. His voice is softer, if it wasn’t so effortlessly melodic, it would be like he’s reading to you. He doesn’t have to, there’s no sheet music in front of him and he knows which keys he’s reaching for, but his gaze remains solely on the piano. He can feel you looking at him.
From where your head is resting against his shoulder, you’re peering up at him with your obstructed view of his face. Your touch tickles against his forearm, your fingertips grazing the strap of his wristwatch with each trip.
As the first verse ends and the pace of the song builds into the chorus, Bradley winkles his nose slightly in concentration. Your lips twitch. The shutters bang against the old house. He turns his head and catches your gaze; you pull back so that he can really see you.
And I guess that’s why they call it the blues;
time on my hands could be time spent with you.
Laughing like children, living like lovers, rolling like thunder, under the covers.
And by the time he gets the words out, he’s smiling again. Not because of the absurdity of him performing Elton John for the second time in one evening, or because this is far from what he would have chosen to sing you, but because of the way you’re watching him.
Like you’re watching him play Sonata No. 14.
Long before Elton John first graced the US charts, Bradley would be sent over to his grandmother’s neighbor’s house every Thursday for two hours while the adults were at work. There, he sat at the piano and seethed to the pace of the metronome while a miserable seventy year old war vet scolded his posture. He hated playing piano back then.
It’s not so bad anymore.
And that miserable old man wasn’t really a bad teacher. Maybe Bradley was just a bad student.
Just stare into space, picture my face in your hands. Live for each second,
He turns his attention back towards the keys like he didn’t have the song memorized by ‘84.
And never forget I’m your man.
Wait on me, girl. Cry in the night if it helps. But more than ever, I simply love you, more than I love life itself.
Your head settles back against the warm muscle of his shoulder. Your fingers dance along the sensitive inseam of his forearm. You close your eyes and the rain grows louder, Bradley’s breaths between the lyrics grow deeper.
This is nice. You let your mind wander, wondering if evenings would always look like this with Bradley, if he would always sing you the same song over and over. On evenings like this, he would kiss the top of your head and tell you he loved you, and you would tell him the same.
It’s not hard to picture.
Your eyes remain closed through the chorus and remaining verses. Just the soft cotton of his shirt against your cheek, the rumble of his singing voice and the rain outside.
He swallows and clears his throat quietly, as he withdraws his hands from the keys.
“What’s your favourite song?” You ask him softly. His hands rest in his lap, his eyes on the painting directly across from him. He takes a moment to think about it.
“Have you ever heard the song Take it To the Limit by The Eagles?” You might not have, he figures that since you probably would have been in school when that album came out, you probably weren’t as big of an Eagles fan as he was.
You shake your head softly. “I don’t think so. What’s it sound like?”
He pulls back, and raises his eyebrows at you. “Is this an elaborate plan to get me to play for you all night?”
Your smile grows bashful, but your eyes remain steadily on him. “I just want to hear how it goes.”
“Well, what’s your favourite song?”
“You know that song from last summer, rhythm of the night?”
Bradley stares back at you. His eyes wrinkle at the edges and his mouth breaks into a grin before the laughter bubbles over and he spills forwards.
“Like El de Barge? Forget about the worries on your mind, da-da-da-duh-da-da?” You’ve never heard Bradley giggling quite like this before, literally tickled pink by your revelation as he jokingly hums out the words.
You’re powerless but to grin back at him. “Uh-huh. What’s wrong with that?”
Alessandro peers into the sitting room as he passes by. He doesn’t take time to stop and stare at the two of you sharing the piano bench, giggling with each other, but now he understands what the other students have all been gossiping about.
“I was expecting Madonna or — Wham, or something.” Bradley manages through his giggles, swiping a hand through his curls, almost gaining composure before bubbling over into laughter again.
“Sure, I like them,” You agree with him, smiling dumbly at the way he leans into you to laugh, “But come on! — You just can’t listen to that song and not feel happy!”
He’s up so close that you could kiss him when he finally gets himself together, still smiling softly back at you. Driven by his amused disbelief, he shakes his head softly. His fingers brush against your knee.
All of a sudden he has this image of you wandering around with that headset covering your ears, and De Barge being the soundtrack you have picked. Scowling at him from the back of the minivan, listening to such an upbeat track.
“You’re a trip.” He tells you.
Your eyes flicker downward, briefly catching on the way his fingers are curled into the skin of your thigh. Not too hard, just kind of holding you close. His own eyes follow suit, and linger on the way your hands sit in your lap. On your still bare ring finger.
When he looks at you this time, he’s thinking of the shower this morning. Your head lulling back onto his shoulder, sighing in pleasure as you just let yourself enjoy the moment. His lips tug at a soft smile.
“So, will you play that song for me? — Your favourite?” You ask. There isn’t a lot of room on the bench so, as you twist to face towards him, your thigh sits across the top of his, halfway into his lap.
Maybe he will end up playing for you all night, after all. He shoots you an amusedly pointed look, then lifts his hands and settles them onto the keys once more.
You grin at him, shifting closer again, settling your cheek against his shoulder.
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Tags: @thedroneranger @batdanceq @cassiemitchele @himbos-on-ice @wkndwlff @bradshawsbaby @damrlova @fudge13 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @sihtricswife @callsignvenus @callsign-joyride @harper1666@krismdavis @sheisanangell @cherrycola27 @kmc1989 @sugarcoated-lame @mshistorylover
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sailor-aviator · 2 days
Text
Two Birds: Prologue
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Two Birds: Prologue
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader x Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw
Summary: Growing up in the midwest meant that you weren't exposed to many of the dangers of the world, and it also meant that you missed out on some of what life had to offer. Taking a leap, you move to New York City with a few personal belongings and the little money you have left in your savings. You become good friends with your roommate and, by extension, the people at the club she works at. However, it isn't long until you catch the eye of not one, but two mafia bosses that rule the city with an iron grip. Will you stay out of their clutches, or will you give in and become another pawn in their wicked games? (Mafia!AU)
Content Warnings: Talk of moving, Worried mom, Mentions of city, Overly enthusiastic roommate. There's not much to this, it's just the prologue lol
Word Count: 1.4k+
Series Masterlist
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“Are you sure about this?”
You let out a heavy sigh, feeling the tell-tale signs of a headache tugging at your temples. You reached your hands up to rub gently at them, closing your eyes for a brief moment before opening them to glance at your mother. Her eyes held nothing but worry and apprehension as she stared at you, her lips pressed into a firm line as her eyes ran over you, her fingertips twitching nervously on the counter in the kitchen.
You knew why she was worried, and you supposed any good mother would be. You had announced a couple of weeks before that you were intending on packing up and leaving for New York City. A change in your life was needed, a need for something bigger, and to you, New York held the answers. You had dreamed of the big city since you were small, having visited once when you seven and having been enamored with the bright lights and the way that something always seemed to be happening. It wasn’t that you didn’t like your small town life, but the predictable days and repeating patterns of the town you grew up in had long since played out. It was time to depart and spread your wings, time to grow and blossom into the person you were always meant to be.
“I’m sure, Mom,” you sighed, resigning yourself to the same conversation the two of you had had at last three times a week since you announced the plan for your move.
“It’s just,” she paused, moving to wipe down the counter for the third time in the last couple minutes, “you know I worry, and it’s so different from what you know. The city isn’t like what you’ve grown up with.”
“I know,” you muttered, hands gripping your glass of water tightly. “That’s kind of the point.”
“I want you to do what it is you need and want,” she continued, “but you’ll be all alone out there, sweetie. It’ll be hard for me or your father to come out and help you if you need it.”
“I know that too,” you replied, furrowing your brows, “but Mom, I really think this will be good for me. It’ll be good for me to try and be completely on my own, to experience the world as a full-fledged adult. Besides, if I fail, I can always come home, right?”
“Of course, honey,” your mother cooed, her face softening as she looked at you once more. “You can always come home. You know there’s always a place for you here.”
“Thanks, Mom,” you smiled, taking a sip of your water.
“It’s just,” it was your mother’s turn to sigh now, “does it have to be New York? Couldn’t you have picked somewhere like St.Louis?”
“St.Louis still feels kind of small town despite the size,” you reminded her. “I wanted a place that felt like a real city. Somewhere where the buildings reach up past the sky and somewhere that never sleeps.”
“You mean a place where crime is around every corner and people are just waiting to mug you,” she grumbled, not meeting your eye.
“St.Louis has a pretty high crime rate too,” you scoffed, smiling at the scowl she sent your way.
“I’m serious, honey,” she sighed, resting her hand on the counter in front of you. “New York isn’t like here. You need to make sure that you’re being careful, okay?”
You smiled at her, nodding slowly as her lips turned downward.
“Of course, Mom,” you assured her, taking her hand in yours. “Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”
She gave you a doubtful look before turning towards the fridge off to the side, pulling it open and considering the contents inside.
“I’m thinking spaghetti for dinner,” she said finally, glancing over at where you still sat. “How’s that sound?”
You gave her a tight-lipped smile, groaning internally and knowing that the conversation was over for now.
“Sounds great,” you replied, moving to stand, “how about I grab the noodles?”
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A few weeks later and you found yourself departing from your home, only two suitcases full of your belongings that you couldn’t do without as you boarded the plane headed east. The flight was wholly uneventful, your music and audiobooks keeping you company as you tried not to think about the turbulence that shook the plane from time to time. Before you knew it, you had landed, catching your Uber as it pulled up to the curb.
You watched with fascination as the city lights grew bigger and brighter the closer you got, the throngs of people slowing traffic, but you were too excited to pay it much mind. Your head raced with the thoughts of what your new life would be like, the promise of adventure tugging at your heart as your eyes darted all about.
“You ever been to the city?” Your driver asked, eyes glued to the road as he turned down one of the many streets.
“Once,” you replied, face all but pressed up against the car window. The man chuckled as he pulled up to the curb in front of what you assumed to be your apartment building.
“Give it a couple of weeks,” he smiled, “you’ll be sick of it by then.”
You thanked the man, sliding out of the backseat and grabbing your suitcases from the trunk, waving at him as he pulled off for his next ride. You took a deep breath, walking up the stoop and finding the button for your new apartment. The buzzer sounded as you pressed the button, pulling your hand away as you waited.
The intercom crackled to life that sent your heart pattering in your chest.
“What?” Came the voice on the other end, the girl sounding somewhat put out.
“Uh, hi,” you breathed, shifting on your feet awkwardly. “I’m looking for Annie. She’s supposed to be my new roommate?”
A pause before the girl spoke your name in a question through the speaker.
“That’s me!” You chirped.
“Come on up!”
The buzzer sounded once more along with the click of the lock on the front door, and you swiftly pushed inside. The elevator rumbled its way down to you, and you eyed it warily as you stepped inside and pressed the button for the fifth floor. The box clunked rhythmically as it pulled you up to the designated floor, doors opening to an unassuming hallway. You walked slowly down the plain hall, your suitcases clattering alongside you as you stopped in front of the door marked 35. You raised your hand and gave three knocks, standing back on your heels as you waited.
A moment later, the door swung open to reveal a very pretty brunette smiling at you.
“Hey, babe!” She grinned, pulling you inside. You stumbled forward with a huff, turning just as Annie closed and locked the door behind you. She turned back to look at you, the smile still plastered to her face as she practically vibrated with excitement.
“Sorry about the mess,” she said as she walked past you to pick up a shirt that hung over the couch, “I forgot you were coming today. I’m Annie.”
She stuck out her hand for you to shake, and you took it, repeating your name with a shy smile.
“Look at you, you little country mouse,” Annie gushed as she led you further into the apartment. “You’re just a sweet, little thing, huh? Don’t you worry, I’ll show you the way around the city. You’ll be a pro in no time! Meantime, why don’t you go get settled? Your room is just through there and I’m across the hall, yeah? You hungry? I can order us some take in. Chinese sound good?”
“Uh, yeah,” you breathed, a little overwhelmed by your roommates zealousness. She seemed nice enough, but she was certainly a lot more than you were accustomed to.
“I know this place that has the best dumplings. Once you try one, you won’t ever want another, I’m telling you! Go on! Go put your bags up! Get changed! We have all night to get acquainted. I’ve been dying to speak to you face to face, Mouse.”
“Mouse?” You asked her, arching a brow at her. She grinned at you, waggling her own eyebrows as she did.
“Yeah, you know,” she waved her hand, “like that old story or whatever. Country mouse and city mouse.”
You let out a breath of a laugh, shaking your head in bemusement at your new roommate. Her grin grew wider as she grabbed her phone to place the order.
“You and I are going to be good friends, I guarantee it, Mouse,” she declared.
You had a feeling that she was right.
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A/N: Here it is! I've been too excited to not write it, so I'm posting ahead of schedule as it were lol Here is the first fic of my summer lineup! As always, reblogs and comment are greatly appreciated! You can also find my works on AO3 under the username sailor_aviator. Until next time!
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bradshawssugarbaby · 12 hours
Text
Easy Like Sunday Morning - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
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pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x reader
warnings/content: smut, unprotected p in v (or at least, no protection mentioned), dirty talk, praise kink, Bradley worshipping you. Sort of CNC (both parties are awake though when the actual act occurs?)
word count: 1.5k
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The morning sun peeked through the curtains over the large window in your bedroom. You yawned and stretched, a much needed gesture after a solid eight hours of fighting Bradley for the covers throughout the night. Beside you, he lay in bed, still snoring peacefully - you were convinced at this point an atom bomb could probably detonate beside his eardrum and he still wouldn’t stir.  His tanned arm rested just over the covers, his hand loosely gripping the fabric as he slept. He turned onto his side, causing the blanket to drop slightly, exposing a landscape of golden sunkissed skin dotted with freckles across his shoulders and upper back. Bradley would never admit to it, but he’d been hitting the gym harder lately, and it was starting to show more so as the muscles in his back tensed and flexed as he got comfortable. 
Bradley had always been a good looking man. You swore that from the moment you first saw him - dressed in his khaki uniform walking down the streets in Coronado as he and a couple of friends decided to grab lunch off base that day after a briefing. You’d been out for lunch with one of your friends, and Bradley caught your eye from a mile away. Tall, dark, broad-shouldered and handsome - he was perfectly your type. As luck would have it, it turned out that he’d had his eye on you at the same time. Before leaving that afternoon, he’d stopped by the table where you were dining and flashed this beautifully crooked smile at you, the kind that made you just absolutely melt on the spot.
“Sorry for interrupting your lunch, but I couldn’t walk away without telling you how beautiful you are.”
His deep voice sent a shiver down your spine when he spoke, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as your brain processed what he’d said. He laughed when you told him he was sweet, his cheeks becoming rosy as you teased him, and that was that - within a couple of days, he was calling you for a date, and now, two years later, he was sound asleep in bed beside you, in the house you two had purchased together a few short months ago. 
You gently placed a kiss to his shoulder blade as you reminisced to yourself about meeting Bradley for the first time, causing him to murmur something softly, eyelids fluttering for a moment before remaining shut. After a few minutes, Bradley flipped back to lay on his back, grumbling quietly as he settled himself back into his rest. His curls were tousled messily from his tossing and turning, something that Bradley would quickly tame the moment he woke up with some hair styling products he had stashed away, specifically for making sure his hair remained in Navy regulation at every moment. 
You began to kiss his shoulder again, gently peppering his soft skin with tender kisses as he slept, showering him with affection. Bradley’s eyes fluttered again, a soft smirk forming on his lips as he glanced down at you, your trail of kisses now heading further towards his chest. He hummed softly and shut his eyes again, enjoying your display of tenderness towards him on this lazy morning. 
As you trailed your mouth down his body, you peeled back the blankets gently - trying your best not to wake him abruptly. You danced your fingers down his chest to his abdomen, your lips following suit. Once you reached the waistband of his boxer briefs, you delicately placed another kiss to the light trail of hair that extended from his naval to his waistline before sitting yourself upright. Carefully, you straddled his waist, taking care to seat yourself gently on his abdomen. You ducked your head down to begin kissing at his ear, which prompted a soft groan from Bradley.
“Mornin’, honey,” he said sleepily as he blinked his bleary brown eyes a few times in an effort to focus them on you. 
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” you hummed, your lips leaving a trail of warm, open-mouthed kisses along his neck, something Bradley could never resist. 
“Mhmm,” Bradley shook his head, a strained chuckle falling from his lips as he shifted underneath you in the bed. “Honey, you’re making it really, really hard for me to not just flip you over and-” 
You raised a challenging eyebrow as you hovered yourself over top of his lap, settling down on the tenting fabric of his boxers. Grinding yourself against him, Bradley let out a deep grunt, shaking his head as he reached out and grabbed at your hips. He held you firmly in place, guiding your as you moved back and forth, rubbing yourself over top of his boxers. 
Bradley gazed up at you with lust-filled eyes as he pushed you back onto his thighs for a moment, reaching a hand down to shove the restricting fabric back off his waist. Your fingers teased and taunted him as you slowly pulled back his boxers, his hardening cock springing forwards as you freed it. Taking his length in your hand, you stroked it gently, your thumb tracing soft, delicate circles around the tip. 
“Honey, you’re killing me here,” Bradley rasped, watching you carefully as you continued to toy with him, pumping your hand along his shaft with just enough pressure to drive him crazy.
“Tell me what you want me to do, Roo,” you purred, using his callsign as a means to tease him.
“Fuck,” he panted, shaking his head for a minute to try and compose himself, “I need you to ride me, pretty girl. Think you’re up for it?”
“I think I can handle it.” 
You lifted the hem of Bradley’s t-shirt that you’d slept in up, just enough to keep it out of the way as you positioned yourself over top of him. You slid down on to him with a soft whine, tilting your head to the side as you looked down at him, pressing your palms flat against his chest to steady yourself. 
“Fuck, that’s it, honey. Lookin’ so pretty bouncing up and down on my cock,” Bradley grunted, his large hands reaching for any part of you he could get a grip on, settling for your thighs.
You bobbed yourself up and down on him with ease, working yourself into a rhythm as you rode Bradley. His fingertips dug into the flesh of your thigh, causing you to whine as you sped up your movements. Bradley’s hands snuck their way up the bottom of your shirt, gliding their way against your sensitive skin before cupping your breasts. He gave them a playful squeeze before sliding them back down to your waist, guiding you up and down on him as he felt your walls beginning to clench around his cock. 
“S-so close, Bradley,” you whined, throwing your head back before darting your eyes down to meet his steely gaze. 
“That’s it, pretty girl. Let it go for me, honey, I’ve got ya.” he coached, his hands tightening their grip on your hips.
You gasped as you felt Bradley switch his hand placement, one of his hands drifting to your abdomen. He reached down and pressed his fingertip into your clit, massaging it in circles as you rode him. Your orgasm hit you almost immediately after he made contact with your sensitive nub, a wicked grin formed on Bradley’s lips as he watched your thighs shake and the movement of your hips become less precise as you fell apart on him.
Bradley snapped his hips forwards into you, thrusting hard and deep into your throbbing cunt. He desperately pounded into you, his breath hitching in his throat as he brought himself close to the edge. Your name fell from his lips like a sacred prayer, repeating it over and over as his voice rasped - as if there was nothing else on his mind than you.
“Fuck, so good, honey, you feel so fucking good. You’re so good to me, baby girl.” he praised, worshipping you as he came down from his climax.
Breathlessly, you leaned down, pressing your lips to his in a feverish, passionate kiss. Your teeth grazed at his plump bottom lip gently as you pulled your head back, a grin forming on your features as you looked down at him.
“That’s one way to wake me up,” he laughed, shaking his head before gazing up at you with pure adoration in his eyes. 
“Come on,” you grinned, tapping his thigh as you dismounted from his waist, “I’m gonna go take a shower, you coming with me, Roo?”
Bradley grinned, raising his dark eyebrow at you as he watched you walk towards the bedroom door. 
“I wouldn’t miss it.” 
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bloatedandalone04 · 18 hours
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Midnight Rain
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➪the one where bradley is the best boyfriend you could ever ask for, but even he can’t fully erase the bad memories of your last relationship.
Warnings: fluff, smut, angst, oral (f receiving), mentions/descriptions of bad past relationships, mentions of abuse, past abuse, toxic ex, trauma?, bad coping habits, arguments, crying, swearing
Word Count: 3.6k
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡
Bradley Bradshaw is the love of your life. 
While you had no plans of ever leaving him, you still knew that no other love you could ever have will live up to him. 
He completely flipped your world upside down and opened your eyes to everything you thought you knew about love. Well, turns out you knew nothing about it before. 
He showed you with every sentence, with every word and action that he loved you and cared so deeply for you, neither of you knew what to do with it. 
It was almost overwhelming. 
Almost. 
It was nearing ten in the morning, and you probably would have slept for even longer if it weren’t for the way Bradley was softly pressing kisses to the skin of your bare shoulder. 
The quiet moan you let out had him grinning and pulling you against him so your back was pressed to his chest, and his arms enclosed around you as he murmured, “Happy birthday, baby,” deeply next to your ear. 
His morning voice had you moaning again as you kept your eyes closed and reached a hand behind you to grab hold of his hair. You blindly guide him into a kiss that had him releasing a content hum before pulling away. “It’s just another day,” you mumble before burying your face back in your pillow. “Sleep with me for a bit longer.”
Really, you hadn’t been sleeping for long. He had kept you up well into the early hours of the morning in the best way he knew how to. So you couldn’t be blamed for wanting to stay in bed with him, but in a different way this time. 
Bradley laughed quietly and pushed your hair away from your neck so he could lean in and kiss along your skin. “Not a chance,” he muttered. “Today's my favorite holiday.”
You scoff but are powerless to stop the smile from taking over your face. “My birthday is not a holiday,”
But he just shuts you up with another kiss to your lips. This one was deeper than the last, and when Bradley rolled you onto your back, you opened your legs and allowed him to settle his body in between them. “It's the most important day of the year,” he said against your mouth. “The love of my life was born on this day, twenty nine years ago.”
You cover your face with your hands and groan. “Don’t remind me how old I am,”
Now it was Bradley’s turn to scoff. “Are you forgetting that I’m four and a half years older than you?” He asked and took both your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head on the pillow. “Now, will you let me go down on you before taking you out for breakfast?” 
You blush and nod almost instantly, any and all ounces of sleep disappearing from your body. “Is this my birthday present?” You ask, already breathless from the way he keeps your hands pinned as he kisses his way down your body. 
“No,” he answered as he used his free hand to pull back the sheets that were covering your naked body. “Tell me, baby, are you sore from last night?”
He was referring to the way he fucked you for hours last night as if he hadn’t seen you in months, when in reality he’s been home from deployment for over two weeks now. 
Still, Bradley wasn’t a slacker in bed. He wasn’t satisfied until you were, and if that meant railing you until two in the morning, then that’s fine by him. 
“Just a bit,” you reply and bite down on your lip when he hums and leans in to gently run his tongue down your folds. Your body jolts when he does it again, and the small smirk he wore had you whining. “Feels good.”
Bradley made a noise of approval and began to circle your clit with the tip of his tongue. You bend your knees so your feet are planted on the bed at either side of his shoulders, and you push up against his hand. 
He lets go of your wrists and almost immediately your hands find home in his hair. “Tell me if it’s too much,” he practically begged, not wanting to ever push you past your limits and provide you with discomfort rather than pleasure. 
“Okay,” you breathe, knowing he would stop if you didn’t give him a verbal response, and you would probably cry if he did. 
Bradley was amazing at eating you out, and he left you craving more and more each time. The first time he did it, back on the third date, you were left clinging onto his bedsheets and crying out so all his neighbors could hear. You were embarrassed about it a while after, but Bradley was all over you for the rest of the night, successfully pushing your worries and insecurities aside. 
In fact, the last time you felt super insecure about yourself was about two years ago, just before your second date with him. He’s made you feel like the most important person in his life ever since then, so you had no reason to feel like you weren’t good enough around him.
“Oh, God,” you moaned when he worked you open with his fingers until you were taking them to the knuckle. He wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you closer to his face and pretty much buries himself in you. 
He enjoyed this as much as you do, and that much was obvious with every stroke of his tongue as he got you off with his mouth and fingers. 
You were a panting mess when he pulled away and kissed you deeply, and were lightheaded when he tugged you off his bed and towards the bathroom, where he had you stay still as he washed your body in the shower. 
You were still reeling from the morning’s events when Bradley guided you into the Hard Deck later. Your fingers were loosely laced with his as both your friends and his wished you a happy birthday. 
Phoenix was staring at your necklace that Bradley had given you just before you arrived, and she teased him for branding you as his own with the simple ‘B’ that was attached to the chain, but you both knew that she was probably your biggest supporter. 
Nat had actually been the one to give him enough confidence to ask you out, and that was something she proudly held over his head since it worked out extremely well for him. 
As the night went on, you got a bit bored of the music coming from the jukebox, and Bradley took it upon himself to unplug it and sit down at the piano. He pulled you onto his lap and reached around you to begin playing the chords of your favorite song that turned into the birthday song towards the end. 
You blushed and turned to bury your face against his neck as he kissed your forehead, not used to the attention being solely on you for so long. 
Before Bradley came into your life, you were in a pretty rough place. You had just gotten out of a bad relationship a few months prior to meeting him, and you thought you would’ve needed at least a few years to move on from what you endured from your ex, but you were proven wrong. 
Bradley tried his best to make you forget about your pathetic excuse of an ex boyfriend, who laid his hands on you more than once in the three years you were with him. 
You felt stupid for staying with a man who very clearly didn’t love you, but back then you felt like it was as good as it was gonna get. 
Oh, how wrong you were. Bradley was very good at proving just how wrong you are about a lot of things regarding your ex. 
“Happy birthday,” Bradley said for the fifth time since waking you up. His lips were peppering kisses all along your skin as he pressed his body close to yours against the railing outside the Hard Deck. 
“Thank you,” came your breathy reply as his lips trailed all over your neck. “This is probably the best birthday I’ve had in a while. Well, this one and my last two, all thanks to you. You make everything better.”
Bradley pulled away with a smile and caressed your jaw with his fingers. “You make everything better, too, baby. I can’t remember who I was without you,” he confessed and leaned down to kiss the side of your head. “A prick, probably.”
You shake your head and jump up, the way he effortlessly caught you making you feel a bit light headed. You were sure you would never get over how strong he is. “You weren’t a prick, Bradley,” you say and kiss all over his face. “I know you weren’t. You’re far too kind and sweet and caring to be a prick.”
He grinned up at you and secured his arms around your middle as you cling onto his shoulders. “I think you’re the sweet one,” he mumbled and began walking towards the parking lot. “Let me take you home?”
You practically moaned at his question and nod, kissing him multiple times before pulling away. “Please, take me home,” 
-
Tears burned your eyes as you used the key Bradley gave you to unlock his front door. 
You had the worst day possible at work, and it only got worse the more you thought about it. Everything that could’ve possibly gone wrong did, and you felt like you were on the verge of a full on breakdown. 
Swiping furiously at your eyes, you try to blink away the oncoming tears as you drop your key into your bag and set it down near the door. 
You just wanted Bradley. After a terrible fucking day, all you wanted was your sweet and far too caring for his own good boyfriend. 
And it seemed like you were getting him. “Baby?” He called out from the kitchen. “Is that you?”
You were a bit scared to try out your voice, since you spent the whole twenty minute drive here sobbing. “Yeah,” you weakly say back, cringing at your hoarse voice. 
A silence followed your response, and a few seconds go by before you hear Bradley’s footsteps near the doorway. “Baby?” He said again, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you keep your back turned to him. “What’s wrong?”
You bite down on your lip as you prepare yourself to allow your boyfriend to see you in this state. Turning to face him, you dig your nails into your palms and shrug, watching as his eyes widen and he tosses the dish towel he was using to dry his hands somewhere behind him. 
“Hey,” he rasped, taking one stride towards you and wrapping you up in his arms. “What’s wrong? What happened, baby?” 
“Bradley,” you cried as you pressed your face against his chest. “Today’s been terrible.” 
He cradled the back of your head with one hand while his other ran up and down your back. “Why?” He softly asked. “What happened?” 
Your body shook against his, unstoppable tears flowing down your scrunched up face. “Everything went wrong,” you sobbed, leaning into your boyfriend’s touch when he used his thumb to wipe away your tears. “Mandy forgot to get the presentation ready for today, and when it was time to go up and deliver it, I was the one who got blamed for it.”
Mandy was your slacking co-worker, and she’s made problems for you many times in the past. That was just one of the reasons Bradley strongly disliked her. 
That and the way she always flirts with him whenever he goes with you to your work parties, despite him arriving with you under his arm. 
“I had my things ready, I was prepared, and she completely threw me under the fucking bus,” you continued, finding a small bit of comfort in the way Bradley ran his hand up your back until it began massaging your shoulder. “I got screamed at in front of everybody, and she just laughed. She laughed, Bradley.”
He scoffed, “Yeah, well, I never liked her, so I’m not surprised,” he muttered. “And I’ve never liked your choice of work, you’re surrounded by fucking idiots there that take advantage of you.”
You stay quiet as you let him gently rock you back and forth, and already you are feeling better now that you are with him. 
“I’m sorry you had such a bad day, sweet girl,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head as your cries quieted down. “What can I do to make it better?”
You shake your head, placing your hands on his biceps and pressing yourself closer to him. “You’ve already done it, Bradley,” you whisper, closing your eyes as the weight of the day comes crashing down onto you. “Just being with you is enough.”
 Bradley kissed your head again and abandoned whatever task he was doing in the kitchen as he guided you towards his living room. “Let me take care of you,” he requested in a quiet voice, gesturing for you to sit down on the couch. “Do you want me to make you something?”
You shake your head and lay back on the pillows he had scattered on the couch, one of the few things he had around that made the house look lived in. “I just want you,” you pathetically answer, even though you knew he would never think you were that. “I want to lay with you.”
Bradley nodded and leaned down, caressing your jaw in both hands as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Okay,” he mumbled. “I gotta go turn the oven off, then I’ll come lay with you, okay? We can put a movie on or something.”
You nod in agreement, and he leaves the room, picking up the dish towel on the way back to the kitchen. He was back in under a minute, and then he was gently laying down on top of you, careful to not put too much of his body weight on you. 
Honestly, you wouldn’t care. You wanted him to crush you with his weight right now, you were so desperate to feel that he was with you at the moment. 
Bradley wraps his arms around you and presses his face against the side of your neck as he whispers, “I love you,” 
You bury your nose in his shirt, inhaling the intoxicating scent that only belonged to Bradley. “I love you, too,” you say back, leaning into the way he peppered kisses all along the skin of your neck. 
-
“I can’t believe you right now,” Bradley muttered as he threw his keys onto the table next to the front door. 
You stay silent as you hover near the still open door, your eyes guarded and your fingers picking at the skin around your nails. 
At your lack of response, Bradley turned to you with a huff, lifting his arms in a quick shrug. “Well? Are you going to say anything?”
You chew on your lip as you meet his eyes. “What do you want me to say?”
He lets out a humorless laugh as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “What do I want you to say? What do I want you to say,” he echoed, dropping his hand abruptly afterwards. “I want you to explain to me why I had to basically carry you out of that fucking restaurant because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.”
Your smart remark dies on your tongue and you quickly look away as you feel the heat rush to your face. 
Bradley was beyond pissed at you right now, and you suppose he had the right to be, but you hated fighting with him. You always tried to avoid getting into arguments, because you were both stubborn and it didn’t make it easy to win said arguments, though you both tried to every time. 
“What? Got nothing to say now?” He mocked and shrugged off his jacket, leaving him in just a dark button up and his jeans. “You couldn’t stop talking when we were out, and now you can’t seem to give me a simple response.”
You huff and dig your nails deeper into your palms, and you watch as his eyes narrow at it. “I’m embarrassed, Bradley,” you mutter and he laughs.
“Yeah, well, that makes two of us,” he grunted and ran a hand through his hair, his gaze dropping back down to your hands as you pierce the top layer of your skin. “Okay, baby, stop that.”
You furrow your brows then realize he was talking about the way you were scratching up your palms, and you drop your hands with a loud sigh. “I can’t help it, Bradley,” you say, closing the door loudly behind you before turning back to him. “It’s how I cope with this kind of thing.”
Bradley’s eyes narrowed again and he placed his hands on his hips. “How you cope? No, that’s how you coped when you were with your piece of shit ex,” he nearly growled. “You cope with me by talking things through.”
“I’m embarrassed, Bradley, I don’t want to talk-”
“Well, tough!” He cut you off, making you shut up as he took a step towards you. “That’s what you and I do; we talk. I don’t yell at you or degrade you or get in your space and-”
He lifted his hand and you were powerless to stop the quiet cry that left your lips as you cowered away from him. Realistically, you knew he wasn’t going to hit you like your body reacted to, and when you looked over at him and saw the look of horror on his face, it just confirmed it.
Flashbacks to when your ex would hit you during heated arguments flicker through your head, and you feel your whole body tense up at the cruel reminder of who you had wasted too many years of your life with.
It was almost scary how quiet it had become. Your involuntary reaction had quite literally knocked the wind out of him and left him speechless for a few seconds before he regained his sense of voice. 
“Hit you,” he finished what he was going to say and you squeezed your eyes shut as you didn’t want to see the look of pure guilt he was giving you. “Baby, did you think…you thought…that I was-”
“No,” you instantly answer and shake your head. “I swear, I wasn’t thinking that. It’s just, I was…You were talking about it and I started thinking about it and I just…I had no control over that. I’m sorry. I know you would never.”
“I would never,” he echoed and you opened your eyes to see his pained expression. 
“I know,” you say quickly, walking over to him but keeping your hands to yourself. Bradley looked nervous and on edge and like he wanted to touch you but was holding off on doing so. You knew what kind of thoughts were probably running through his head, the comparisons and regret, and you wanted to put a stop to all of it. 
He was not your ex, and he was nowhere near being anything like him. You knew that, and he knew that, he just needed a reminder. 
“I know you would never hurt me,” you say and reach down to take his bigger hand in both of yours. You press his palm against your face and lean into his hesitant touch, looking up at him with a sad smile. “You’re not him, Bradley. You’re nothing like him. You’re everything, Bradley. I love you.”
“You’re everything,” he said back and your words must’ve been enough for him to feel like he could hold you right now as he took you into his arms and pressed you tight against his chest. “You’re everything to me, Y/n. I love you so much, baby. I promise, I’ll never hurt you, I’ll never do anything to make you feel like I ever could. I could never, sweet girl.”
You nod and wrap your arms around his middle. “I know,” you whisper and bury your face in his shirt while he pressed multiple kisses to the top of your head. “I’m sorry I reacted like that.”
“Don’t ever apologize to me,” he rasped, holding you tightly against him. “Not when it comes to something like this. I’m so sorry I brought back those memories. That’s the last thing I ever want to do, especially over something so fucking stupid like what happened at dinner. God, baby, I’m just so sorry. I love you.”
“I love you,” you say back and bunch up his shirt. “It’s okay, Bradley. We’re okay.”
“We’re more than okay, sweet girl,” he murmured, pulling away just to be able to kiss you properly. You kiss him back and melt into the way he held you as if you were the single most important thing in his life. “We’re everything, you’re everything. I’ll do better, okay? I promise.”
You wanted to assure him further and say that he already was doing everything right, but he was too far in his own head right now, you knew he just needed to be with you. And that was fine, because you needed to be with him just as much. 
So instead of going back to the conversation of dinner, you take his hand in yours and pull him towards his bedroom, where you kick off your heels and guide him into bed with you.
Then you held each other for hours, still dressed in your formal outfits and not caring a single bit about the wrinkles you knew would form on your clothes.
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Unbroken
Part 7
(previous part here, next part here)
Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x You
Summary: It feels like the first time.
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Warnings: 18+ MDNI! This is pure smut (very little plot), oral (f receiving), p in v, fluff, etc.
•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•
“How about that ride?”
“Yes ma’am,” he says with a wink, but his response sends a thrill through you.
The 30-minute ride seems longer than usual; your leg begins to bounce with restless energy. You want him bad.
Less than 10 minutes from home, Bradley slows to a stop at a train crossing as the gate comes down and you sigh impatiently when the end isn’t in sight. He must not see it either since he shifts the truck into park.
You confirm there are no cars around with a quick peek behind you before unbuckling your seatbelt and sliding to the middle seat, throwing a leg over his lap to straddle him. You toss your hat in your vacated seat before placing a kiss on his lips, then his cheek, down his jaw…
“I can’t wait anymore,” you explain between kisses, your lips finding his ear. “Been thinking about you touching me all night.”
“Same,” he replies, reaching for the buttons on your jeans. “God, you’re so wet. All this for me?” He asks when he slips his hand in, feeling how soaked you are through the flimsy lace of your underwear.
“Yes, all for you,” you confirm with a gasp as he pushes your undies aside, gathering your arousal before circling back up to your clit.
Your hands grip his biceps and you bite your lip before resting your head on his shoulder to keep from crying out when he pushes a finger in.
“You feel so good,” he murmurs. “So tight, and warm and wet. Can’t wait to be inside you.”
“I can’t wait-fuck!” You cut off when he pushes another finger in. “Can’t wait either.”
“I can see the end of the train,” he says against your neck, leaving kisses in his wake. “Need you to cum before then, there’s a car on the other side of the tracks. Don’t want them to see us.”
You whimper, tightening around him at the thought of getting caught.
His fingers move faster and you feel your orgasm approaching quickly. “S-so close,” you whine.
“Come on, I know you can do it,” he urges softly into your ear. “Be a good girl and finish for me,” he continues, nipping the sensitive skin below and that’s all it takes.
You bite the thick muscle of his shoulder as the pleasure of your release slams into you. His free hand weaves into your hair to tug you gently up for a kiss before pulling back to look at you through his half-lidded gaze, heavy with desire.
“Mmm,” he rumbles while he licks the fingers clean that were just inside you.
The loud horn startles you both, breaking the trance as you scramble to climb off him. You make it back to the middle seat just as the caboose passes.
“All this for me?” You murmur, rubbing over his erection and the wet spot of precum leaking through.
“Yes,” he replies, head falling back against the headrest as he shifts into gear. “All for you.”
•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•
Bradley’s unbuttoning your flannel as you again struggle to unlock the door, pulling it off your arms as you walk through.
You do the same to him, fingers brushing the bite mark you left on his shoulder minutes before. “Sorry,” you say with a sheepish look as you work on his jeans, pushing them down.
His eyes darken when he sees the mark you’re touching. “Don’t be. I like it.”
“Me too,” you murmur as you unbutton your pants and let them fall to the floor before turning toward your bedroom.
“Fuck me,” he breathes. You don’t have to turn around to know he’s looking at your lower half, clad only in a black lacy thong. “I knew it.”
“Knew what?” You ask cheekily over your shoulder as he grabs his overnight bag and follows you to the bedroom.
“That you have an amazing ass,” he says, catching up to palm a cheek in each hand. “Damn.”
“Thanks,” you laugh, letting out a squeak when he turns you before tossing you on the bed like you weigh nothing at all.
Your heart pounds in excitement as he crawls over you, tugging your underwear down.
“You don’t-but I’m ready-“ you moan as he lays down on his stomach and licks a stripe between your thighs.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he mumbles against you, “and you taste so good.”
You’re still worked up from the rendezvous in the truck so it doesn’t take long at all before he brings you off with his tongue, then again with his fingers. He’s relentless, not letting you fully come down before starting in again with his tongue.
He whines you when you grip his hair to pull him off, snapping out of it with your next words.
“Need you inside me,” you beg, voice desperate and needy. “Now.”
He nods, eagerly reaching for his bag to pull out a condom and an unopened bottle of lube. He winces when he pushes his boxer-briefs down and climbs over you. “I’m not going to last long,” he warns you before leaning down for a quick kiss before sitting up to roll the condom on.
“It’s okay,” you assure him, biting your lip as you watch him. “I want to watch you touch yourself some time.”
“Shit,” he says, closing his eyes and gripping the base of his cock with a grimace. “You’re gonna make me cum talking like that,” he says with a breathy chuckle.
“We don’t want that,” you smile. “Not yet at least.”
He rubs a dollop of lube on himself before putting a generous amount between your legs and drawing his fingers up to tease your clit.
“Bradley,” you gasp, but he keeps going until he draws another orgasm from you.
“I could do that all day,” he murmurs as he positions himself between your legs. “Ready?”
You nod as you wrap your legs around his waist.
He kisses you as his lips press forward and you suck in a breath at the stretch.
“You okay?” He asks, pausing but you can feel him shaking with the effort.
“Yeah, you’re just so big,” you gasp. “Keep going.”
“You sure?”
“Yes,” you urge as you try to pull him in further with your legs.
His head drops to your shoulder as he gets a little further in before pulling out and pushing in again. Tears prickle in your eyes at the way he’s doing everything in his power to make sure you’re comfortable.
“All-all the way in,” he says, shuddering when he bottoms out.
“I’m good, you didn’t hurt me,” you tell him, truthfully. You feel full but there’s no pain.
“Good,” he murmurs, pulling out and thrusting back in gently. “God, Em, you feel good. Taking me so well.”
You clench at the praise, pulling another groan from him.
He looks up to reach for a pillow and places it under your hips
“Oh, Bradley,” you moan, nails digging into his back when he pushes back in; the new angle has him stimulating your clit with each thrust. “Feels so good, Just like that.”
He curses into your neck as he fights the urge to go faster, wanting you to finish first more than anything.
“I-I’m close,” you pant. The soft sounds of his pleasure in your ear push you closer to the edge with each thrust.
“Me too, I can’t-fuck!” he chokes out before his hips lose their rhythm as he cums with a low groan.
But you’re already there. Tears fill your eyes and leak through closed lids; you’re unable to make a sound as the waves of the most intense orgasm of your life wash over you.
•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•
“Em? What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Bradley asks a few minutes later as he wipes your tears away.
You slowly blink your eyes open to his concerned face. “No,” you shake your head, “nothing’s wrong.”
“Why are you crying then, sweetheart?” He asks.
“I’m not sure,” you reply honestly. “I-That was amazing, Bradley.”
“I thought so too,” he smiles, visibly relaxing. “Scared me there for a minute.”
You laugh breathlessly and press your lips to his forehead for a kiss. “Thank you.”
“For what?” He asks, resting his head on your chest.
“For everything; giving me a chance, being patient with me, showing me that I’m still capable of feeling something. You’re a good one, Bradley Bradshaw,” you reply as you run your fingers through his hair.
“You’re a good one too, Emma Seresin. I’m lucky to have you,” he smiles up at you.
“Have me?” You ask, quirking a brow. “Are we official now?”
“I’d like to be,” he says, sitting up to look at you.
“I’d like that too.”
•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•
A/N: So fluffy at the end there, nearly made me sick. I thought this would take a few days, but it wanted to come out I guess 🤷🏻‍♀️. My afternoon fell apart and the phones were quiet (I’m jinxing myself by saying that) so I was able to get the majority of this out before I even left work.
As always, any interaction is appreciated but I love hearing what you think in comments/reblogs!
Tagging (please let me know if you want to be added/removed!):
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@devil-angel-winchester
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bratshaws · 1 day
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through the hourglass 377. brb x oc
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THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SMUT! IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 PLEASE DO NOT READ!!!
a/n: EHE well(comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)
pairing: plus size!oc x rooster
warnings: god so many. Rooster, office sex, Rooster is a kinky man and we are all here for it, Bea is also kinky for her husband. Both of them are just horny.
goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)
chapter
1/
/316/317/318/319/320/321/322/323/324/325/326/327/328/329/330/331/332/333/334/335/336/337/338/339/340/341/342/343/344/345/346/347/348/349/350/351/352/353/354/355/356/357/358/359/360/361/362/363/364/365/366
/367/368/369/370/371/372/373/374/375/376
(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )
taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @novastories @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix @lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls
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@emilybradshaw @louisahale @leobabbyyy @booklover2sblog @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12
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-
“Roos!” she whispers harshly, looking around the cold, quiet base as he opens the back gate - the same one they entered through back when they dated. “Baby, is this a good idea?” he just smirks at her as the gate whirrs open weirdly quietly, considering it’s the middle of the night.
He is giddy, like a teenager, and he holds out his hand, “Come on.”
Beatrice hesitated for a moment, uncertainty flickering in her eyes as she glanced around the deserted base."Roos," she whispered again, her voice tinged with apprehension. "Are you sure about this? What if we get caught?"
Rooster's grin widened at Beatrice's concern, his eyes shining with excitement. "Don't worry, gorgeous," he reassured her, his voice low and teasing. "We'll be fine. Besides, it'll be just like old times."
“I was nervous back then too!” she says, then sighs, taking his outstretched hand, her fingers intertwining with his as he led her through the open gate and into the darkness beyond.
As they walked through the base, memories flooded back to Beatrice in a rush of emotions. She remembered the only time they did this, how important it was for him…and her obviously. She had no idea what he was planning. "Roos," Beatrice whispered, her voice filled with uncertainty. "I'm not sure about this. Maybe we should turn back."
Rooster stopped in his tracks, turning to face Beatrice with a reassuring smile. "Hey, it's okay," he murmured, his voice gentle. "We’ll be in my office.”
“...your…office?” she echoed, her voice filled with confusion. "What are we doing there?"
Rooster grinned mischievously, his eyes twinkling with something. "You'll see," he replied cryptically, taking Beatrice's hand once again and leading her towards the building where his office was located.
Rooster stopped in front of the door to his office, his hand hovering over the doorknob. He turned to face Beatrice, his eyes soft with affection. "Are you ready?" he asked, his voice filled with anticipation.
Beatrice nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. She had no idea what Rooster had planned, but she trusted him completely. "I'm ready," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
With a grin, Rooster pushed open the door to his office and gestured for Beatrice to enter. She stepped inside, her eyes widening in surprise at the sight before her.
It was just his office. Plain and simple.
“Oh.” she hears him locking the door, “Oh, I mean, it’s very nice.”
Rooster stepped up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. "It is," he murmured, his voice filled with love as he kisses the side of her neck. "And we’re alone in it."
Beatrice couldn't help but blush at Rooster's closeness, her heart fluttering in her chest as she leaned back into his embrace. "Yes, we are," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Rooster's hands trailed slowly down her arms, sending shivers down her spine as he kissed her neck. "I've been thinking about this moment for a long time," he admitted, his voice husky with desire. "Being alone with you, just like this"
Beatrice turned in Rooster's arms, her eyes meeting his "What did you have in mind?" she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.
Rooster smiled at Beatrice's question, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I thought we could …work on some fantasies…" he replied, his voice low and teasing. "If you want.”
“Oh?” Beatrice's heart skipped a beat at Rooster's suggestion, her cheeks flushing pink at the memory. "What sort of fantasies,LC?," she whispered
Rooster's smile softened as he looked into Beatrice's eyes. "You know…fantasies.”Rooster leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from Beatrice's. "Stuff I know you’ll like too," he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. "Because every moment with you is a gift."
Their lips met in a soft, tender kiss, igniting a fire that had been smoldering between them for years and never once stopped glowing. It was a kiss filled with love and passion, a promise of things to come. She moans in his mouth, hands cupping his jawline as he picks her up by the back of the legs.
She squeaks - no matter how often he did this, it’s still surprising nonetheless - and laughs in his mouth as he places her on his desk, pressing a trail of hot,open mouthed kisses from her lips to the curve of her jaw, his mustache tickling her skin, “Roos…” she gasps, feeling one of his large hands cupping up the softer part of her waist, then climbing up until he reaches her left breasts, brushing his thumb over the sensitive flesh.
Beatrice loved her husband, she loved Bradley so much..but sometimes his ideas neared crazy, “Roos,” his lips drag down the column of her throat and she gasps, “A-Ah, wait–” he stops, mouth on the hollow that connected to her collarbones, eyes flicking upwards, unmoving, “I…” she gasps, slowly tilting her head towards him ,”Is this…is this the idea…you had for a while?”
His lips smack on her skin as he pulls back, “Yes.”
“For how long.”
He purses his lips ‘...a while.”
“How long is a while?”
“How long have we been dating?”
Her lips part in surprise because,well, that makes some sense. Her response however is swallowed up and turned into a quiet moan when his lips drag down to her cleavage. She has to fight back from being vocal because - what if someone is around or close by? Not that he’s going to complain, he does love when she’s vocal but if she’s not, he’s okay too.
He’s just that great.
“You know,” he sighs as he stands up, shrugging off his jacket and that crisp white shirt just clings to his arms, “I kept thinking of ways I could bring you in here, the first time you came here and brought everyone snacks? Fuck babe, took everything in me to not lock you inside.” he hums appreciatively as he runs his hands up and down her thick thighs, the movement lifting the dark fabric of her dress up to the crease of her thighs.
“It’d be strange to tell Mav about it.” she whispers.
Her husband just offers her a look, “Let’s not talk about Mav when I’m about to eat you out.” he says and she bites her lower lip in hopes to hold back a smile. She feels something poking her back and turns around enough to see a few pencils and pens right by her middle, benign careful to push it aside and not make it messy.
Rooster pushes her a bit further and she widens her eyes when she drops something, unsure what it was, “Relax,” he whispers, “It’s okay,we’re locked in here.”
“...wait so…there are people–Rooster!”
“Sssshhh…” he coos,kissing her lips and lying her down on the desk, his hand sliding down to her panties, feeling the lilac colored lace touch his fingertips as he brushed over her mound. She whimpered, canting her hips upwards for his touch, “This is going to be fun.”
“I-I don’t want you to g-get in trouble.”
“Hmmm,I won’t.” he says again, voice so deep it made her whole body vibrate. He nuzzles her chin with his nose, then pushes her panties’ crotch to the side to rub his middle and ring finger against her lower lips, not fully entering yet.
Beatrice moans, slapping a hand over her mouth as she watches him. He stops for a second, “Hold on.’ and he rolls his sleeve up to his elbow, “Better,we both know how messy this can get.” she can see the lines of muscle on his forearms, the dark blonde hair adorning his skin almost shining golden because of the faint moonlight.
He supports himself on the desk, dark eyes watching her expressions as his lower lip slides into his mouth. “You look so fucking good.” they dart all over her body, all over the flushed goodness that was her curves, “And you are still clothed.”
Not for long.
He slides his fingers inside her, eyebrows raising in amusement, “Oh,what is this?” he pushes his digits upwards as she gasps, “Already so,so wet for me. Always,right gorgeous?” she whimpers his name and nods,clenching the hand closest to her face while her eyes close. And truly, to say she was dripping it’d be an understatement. 
Thank god he didn’t have carpeted floors. 
But then again, he didn’t care about that right now.
He lets his gaze linger down her chest, seeing the dress still clinging to her skin in hopes to keep some of her body hidden…he didn’t want to rip it, but he also didn’t want to have her body away from his gaze. So, with his hand still between her legs, fingers moving in a slow,wave like motion, he whispered “Lift up your hips.” and she does, immediately, because not only that added extra pressure inside of her, but also helped her in removing her dress.
He smiles once she’s bare,well,partially, she still had her panties on, but the dress didn’t need a bra. And her breasts just moved as she breathed heavily, eyelids low and mouth flushed from biting so much ,”Perfect.” he pulls his fingers out just in time for Bea to whine loudly in complaint, but her whining was cut short when her legs were lifted.
Soon enough her crossed feet were touching his back and she lifted herself just enough to see him between her legs. Honestly if there was a better vision she didn’t know. 
God he was attractive.
He smirks, wasting no time in burying his tongue deep inside of her. Beatrice’s eyes rolled back, fingers twitched as she held onto the desk’s edge, white knuckled and all. Rooster’s deep,pleased groans when he began just made her whole body shudder. His tongue moved inside of her, then outside, then around her clit only to repeat it several times.
Rooster’s hair was so beautifully combed she almost felt bad for digging her fingers between the strands, but she knew he’d love it too.
Just a tug to his scalp and her husband was mush.
He groaned, openly and loudly, into her, making sure she could feel the way his voice shook her whole body and added to the pleasure of his tongue on her. Beatrice cries out in return, only to slap her hand over her mouth again “R-Rooster.” she bites her hand in hopes to control herself.
Her eyes widened as his hands cupped the underside of her thighs, pushing her forward, folding her over like a pretzel so her knees were touching the desk, right besides her ears. Beatrice’s breathing quickened because she could see so much of what was happening. She moans again,this time holding the opposite edge, trying so hard to keep her eyes open only for them to flutter shut at a languid lick from bottom to top.
He chuckles, pulling back with a wet smack, “Good?” she nods, “Come on, gorgeous, you gotta use your words.”
She furrows her brows, gasping out a ‘yes.’ as he kisses the crease of where her underwear and her actually sex meet, biting the elastic and letting it go accidentally, “Sorry,” he whispers when she lets out a quiet ‘ow’ “Maybe we should take this off,baby.”
“I-I’m okay with that.”
“Hmm,I’m sure you are, turn around for me?” He drops her legs so she can stand up - and Jesus he has to give a few steps back because seeing her, partially naked in his office, was the sexiest thing he had ever seen. She flips her hair to the side before thumbing the edges of her underwear and he watches as it rolls down, then snags between her thick thighs, only for it to fall at her feet again.
She kicks it aside, “Better?’
“Almost.” and his hand swoops down to her ass. The slap echoes around the room so hard she was sure someone else heard it. She cups her mouth to hold back the startled yelp and look back at Rooster with wide eyes, only for him to cup her jaw and smack a kiss to her lips – one that tasted just like her, “Now.” he smirks, tapping the area he just hit gently, “I got an idea.”
“A-Another one?”
“I’m full of ideas and if it was up to me we’d spend the whole night here, but,alas,” and he steps away and around the desk, settling on his chair. He leans back, spreading his legs just enough and she blinks at him, “...is this okay for you or–?”
“You want me to suck you under the desk,don’t you?”
His dick twitches, “Yeah.”
“I mean,” she tosses her hair to the side again, “I’m okay with it, I just wonder if you’ll be able to get any work done remembering I was under your desk.” she giggles when he groans, he hadn’t thought about that, “...Roos, is this really okay? I mean…I..I am happy with it,I just worry about you.”
And his horny gaze softened as he tilted his head, “...baby,c’mere.” he coos, tapping his lap, “C’mere, sit down.” she does and the contact of her naked flushed skin to his slacks was really good. He kisses her cheek, then her temple, before nuzzling her cheek, “I love that you worry so much about me.”
“Course I do.”
“But believe me, this is tame compared to some shit.”
“...oh.”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t have to go into detail.” she says, quickly sliding off his lap to kneel in front of his open legs. He stares down at her face between his legs and he has to hold himself to the best of his ability. “Besides,” she smiles, unbuckling his belt, “We’re busy here.” and he sighs happily, lifting his hips just enough for her to tug the pants down his legs, shoes were long forgotten as soon as they entered his office.
She bites her lower lip, hooking her fingers on the elastic of his black briefs - the fabric straining and stained because of him- gently pulling it down. He bobs out of it, leaking already and clearly begging for attention, “Oh.Well.” she smiles, scooting closer to him, closing her eyes as she kisses the underside, earning a shaky gasp from her husband. “So…what are your orders,LC?”
He snaps his head back down, eyes unfocused, “What?”
“Your orders.” she smiles, “What am I to do if you don’t tell me?’
Rooster’s pupils swallowed his irises and his mouth parted open ,”Fuck I love you so much.” he says breathlessly, then leans back on his chair even further, “I’ll leave it to you, I like being surprised,” and his brain was mud, he couldn’t focus on orders right now.
“Hmmmm…” she hums sweetly, wrapping her fingers around him and dragging her open mouth up and down his shaft, the warm breathing hitting the sensitive flesh. He tries to keep his eyes open but seeing her, under his desk, like how he wanted for so long…was almost too much. She smiles more, kissing his feverish skin again, licking her way up to the flushed tip and pecking it, with a wet smack.
Rooster clenches his teeth, “Fuck…baby I–holy shit!” she slides him into her mouth without worries, too many years of practice, she was no longer nervous around him and my god did she love to experiment. Rooster’s chest heaved as he tries to contain his moans, nails gripping his chair handles as Beatrice’s lips reach mid-length then slide back up.
Only to repeat once.
Twice.
Three times.
When her lips touched his navel,however, he was almost combusting. The muscles on his legs were quivering as he tried to calm himself down while still moving his hips to meet her face. He dared one look down and those green eyes, shining like stars with the flushed face as the background, just squinted at him. He sighs, one of his hands rubbing her cheek, “You still take my cock really well.” he groans, “Fuck,I’m glad you never lost the need to do it.”
Was he making sense?
Who knows?
He surely didn’t. He could feel himself about to snap, curling his fingers and clenching his teeth as Beatrice’s fingers touched between his navel and inner thigh, almost touching pressure points there, “F-Fucking h-hell…” he whispers/growls, “Fuck baby,if you keep up with this I’m going to fucking explode.”
She hums happily, popping him out of her mouth but still moving her hand up and down his length, “And you don’t want that?”
“As much as I love your mouth.” he grunts, “And I do…I still wanna fuck you on the desk.” she stops the movement, smiling up at him and crawling from under the desk. He is breathing hard, his shirt is sticking to his back and chest because of sweat. She slowly sits on the desk, then leans back so her breasts are popping out more, and parts her legs.
He mutters a ‘jesus christ’ before making a movement to pull off his shirt, “No,” she stops him, “Leave it on…I like it.” nevermind how hot he was, he didn’t care. He didn’t give a shit. If his wife liked it, hell he’d wear his fucking winter uniform,jsut for her. Her lips curl into a smile when he slams his mouth against hers, grabbing her left leg to prop the knee on his shoulder. 
That means she was folded, again, but partially, her free legs was hanging by the desk and she wasted no time in wrapping it around his defined hip bones. He smirks, nuzzling her nose, “Ready?” she nods, “That’s my girl.” he purrs, grabbing him by the base and slowly pushing it inside. Thank god their mouths are still touching, because the groan that left their throats was filthy…and the sound coming from their connection too, of course. 
She whimpers, looking down at where they joined while supporting herself with one of her arms. Beatrice just meets his gaze, eyes never leaving his as he starts to move. He was so beautiful, and so brave and strong and kind. She just wraps her arms around his neck to kiss him again, nevermind if that only made her leg hurt just a bit, she oculd handle it.
“Oh god.” she gasps, “It’s been…a while…” she mutters, “Fuck Roos.”
“A while?” he smirks, tilting his head, “I think I need to up my game, considering we fuck every two weeks…or whenever it works.” she just fumbles an apology, because she got obviously confused for obvious reasons. Rooster sighs,his hands on each side of her hips to have some leverage as his hips move.
But he had to admit, this one…was different. A good different. Considering where they were and how he had just been promoted too. “God, gorgeous.” he gasps, hips gently slapping against her inner thighs as he smiles, “Fuck I just love how snug you are. And wet. And nice…”
“R-Roos…”
“I’ve been dreaming of this for so long.” he continues, dragging his thrusts just so she cries out in frustration and ecstasy, digging her nails on his clothed shoulders, “Fuck, and you are okay with this – even if you are worried…fuck I’m so lucky.” 
She whimpers again,the leg on his shoulder clenches as she holds herself upwards. “R-Roos,god….I…”
“I can’t wait to come to work and always remember that you were here,” he sped his movements a bit, “Whispering my name,naked, wet, taking my dick so nicely.” and she gasps, slapping a hand over her mouth - her inside clenched. “And so good, like you always do…fuck you are perfect.”
Beatrice’s channel clenched again and a shaky hand was now between her teeth. Her knuckle was being bitten hard. “I’m going to make you cum so hard.” he smiles, pushing her back on the desk so she’s once again like a pretzel, his golden brown hair was sticking for his forehead and temples, “I’m going to make sure you’ll be all over.”
Her eyes widened and she could barely come up with a sentence, especially when he started to grind his navel against her clit. Beatrice’s eyes closed as her head leaned back, the soft smacking of skin on skin wasn’t as loud as it usually was…but it was enough. Rooster wasn’t going to last much longer, he knew that, he was well aware of how much power she had over him.
And he wouldn’t have any other way. He grunts, speeding up his thrusts, “Are you about to cum?”
“Y-Yes.”
“Good.” he says, “I think I’m going to cum all over you.” she laughs breathlessly, he always got mouthy when he was close, “Or in your mouth,” the image was almost too much, his eyes nearly rolling back,  “O-Or just inside, fuck…god…” 
It’s the one thrust that pushes her to the edge and Beatrice bites down on her palm, legs spasming as her orgasm hits with enough force to make her see stars. Rooster watches fascinated, mouth parting into a smirk as he goes after his own orgasm, “Fuck I love you so much.” 
“I love you too.” she whispers, cupping his face, “I’m so proud of you Roos.” that did it. He hunched over her and screamed into her shoulder, thrusting sporadically with his orgasm making all of his muscles melt as a wave of calm heat darts from his feet to his head. It’s like..he feels fuzzy, that’s the best way to describe it. 
Once he’s done, he lets her drop her leg down and they stay like that, immobile, trying to regain her breathing. Her hand comes up to touch his hair and he shudders, feeling her fingernails scratching his scalp, “...this was the best promotion gift ever.” he confesses,breathing hard and she laughs, just as breathlessly as he was.
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The Containment Diaries: Entry 1
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Pairing: Virologist!Bob Floyd x Reader AND Aviator!Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
Apocalypse AU: Loosely based on Stephen Kings ‘The Stand’
Series Summary: A deadly virus has escaped the research compound where you live and work as head Botanist. The military have evacuated and you and a few of the best and brightest have been tasked with finding a cure. Alongside you is your esteemed colleague and Virologist Dr Robert Floyd.
While aboard an aircraft carrier, you meet charming and boyish Fighter Pilot Bradley Bradshaw, and find yourself falling for both men.
As you navigate the cruel new world you’ve found yourself thrust into, who will you choose to keep you from losing your mind?
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Warnings: Warfare, Military Inaccuracies (I’m but a layman, I have no idea what I’m talking about) Smut, Love Triangle, Angst, Fluff, Alcohol, Breakdowns, Apocalyptic themes, Swearing. I think that’s all!
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The first siren sounded at 2:46am. The sky was pitch black and the street lamps had not yet turned on for the morning.
You shot out of bed as your phone blared, the message flashing continuously across your screen;
‘Please stay alert for the following announcement.’
You waited as the noise continued its incessant honking, your heart in your throat as you waited.
You had all been prepped for this, an impending warning. Ever since the outbreak a few weeks ago, there had been talks of nuking if they couldn’t contain it, and you had been on edge ever since.
Yesterday the military arrived, but still you were advised that it was only precautionary and they, mostly, had everything under control and contained to the Infectious Diseases unit on the north side.
Your phone flashed again with another message;
‘All personnel to meet at the South Exit. Evacuations to begin immediately. Do not stop to pack personal belongings.’
You shot out of bed and threw on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. The cold New England winters were bitter and wet this time of year.
Although you had been told not to pack anything, you grabbed a small backpack and threw in a few essentials; your toothbrush, underwear, socks, mascara (you wouldn’t go anywhere without at least your eyes on) and then you put on your sneakers before you dashed out the door of the apartment complex.
In the dark streets lining the several apartment blocks in the compound, you saw hoards of your colleagues hurriedly exiting their buildings and swarming towards the south side. Fear and impatience already thick in the air as people pushed passed one another.
The street lamps finally flickered on, usually not doing so until 5am, they must have been manually triggered for this occasion.
You noticed how everyone had the same look of worry, etched into a deep frown on their faces. Hundreds of scared adults wrapped in their warmest civvies.
You made your way down the street as fast as you could without pushing passed anyone, and noticed that the military stood either side, funnelling everyone in the same direction.
“Come on, please. My daughter works on the north side, I need to make sure she got out ok. I’ll come straight back I swear!” A man begged one of the military personnel, who held a hand to the mans chest as he pushed him back, shaking his head.
You didn’t catch the rest of the conversation as you were now being pushed by people behind you, a desperate bid to stay on your feet or be trampled by the nervous crowd.
Eventually you reached the South Exit, a series of heavy gates flanked by guarded watch towers. The compound you worked on was so highly protected that you had to have specific clearance before leaving the compound, and no visitors were allowed.
The military stood in neat lines and directed everyone to sit down in rows, tension thick in the air as everyone wondered what was happening. After what felt like forever, when everyone had filed in, the General pulled out a megaphone and drew everyone’s eager attention.
“Alright everybody, I know you must all be scared and confused. It’s very important that everyone listens and does as they’re instructed, as we have to do this quickly.” He turned around to look at his men and women as they ushered in the last few stragglers.
“I’m going to call out your names in alphabetical order, and with your name I’m going to assign you to group A or group B. Group A, when I call your names, you will get up and form a line to the left. Group B, there will be a heck of a lot more of you, so you’ll form three or four lines over to the right.” He instructed, his arm jutting out in the direction of each group.
Everyone murmured to one another, and you sat nervously as you waited.
Name after name was called out, some you recognised and some you didn’t, people shuffling left and right and forming lines. Eventually your name was called.
You stood. “Group A!” The general instructed, and you moved towards the shorter line, considerably more nervous now than you were before. You carefully stepped over hands and legs as you stumbled through the dimly lit courtyard.
Once you had reached the line, a man in uniform placed a tag around your wrist. You flicked your wrist over and were just able to make out your name in the dark.
“I heard we’re getting shipped out to sea to work on a cure.” The woman in front of you whispered loudly to her friend. You recognised her as Alberta from the Infectious Diseases department.
“Well I’d rather be shipped off than be left here when the bombs go off.” Her friend responded.
Your heart began to pound against your chest as you listened.
“Ladies, I don’t think it’s a good idea to speculate right now. Especially not when you’re talking loud enough for group B to hear you.” A deep voice drawled from in front of the two women.
You recognised the twang and turned to look at Dr Robert Floyd as he reprimanded the two scientists, who said nothing, a sour frown on their faces.
You smiled at him, almost if to say thank you, and Dr Floyd nodded at you with a soft smile back, before turning his attention to the front of the line.
You knew of Dr Floyd from fleeting glances in the hallways of your joint apartment block and the occasional times he’d visited the Botany lab for samples of plants he needed for experimental drugs. Most of all you knew of Dr Floyd through gossip that the women in your department allowed to flow freely.
The female scientists and lab techs were shameless when it came to Dr Robert Floyd, never hiding the fact that they were obviously flirting, hard, every time he passed them in the halls or when he approached them for anything work related.
Dr Floyd was extremely handsome, undoubtedly brilliant, and, probably most endearingly, he was extremely shy around the ladies.
He could be hard on his colleagues when he knew they weren’t doing what they should be, but the moment he realised he was being flirted with, Dr Floyd would shut down and go bright red.
You, on the other hand, were not shy, but tried to stay out of everyone’s way, you were not a fan of conflict which was so often rife in the compound, and you just wanted to get on with your job.
You loved plants and you were brilliant at what you did, and to add to the brains, you were also breathtakingly beautiful, which often caused jealousy in your circles. You tried to make it from one day to the next without getting on anyone’s bad side, but it also made it hard to relax and make friends when the competition was so rife.
There were not that many eligible bachelors in the compound, and even though you were not actively on the hunt for one, some of your colleagues felt that you took attention away from them, so when Dr Floyd paid you that tiny bit of attention, the women in front of you shot you a dirty look.
You stood and waited in the short line for what felt like hours, the line for group B growing ever longer. By the time the sun poked its shining head over the cascading walls of the compound, you were finally being ushered one by one into the trucks.
You noticed group B being ushered into what appeared to be school busses, and you overheard one of the army personnel speaking with some of them.
“Your emergency contacts have been notified, they’ll be there to pick you up. Those of you without an emergency contact will be provided with basic room and board until this is all over.”
You stopped listening as you reached the truck and you were helped up into the back. You were instructed to take a seat along the side bench and you’d be briefed shortly.
You sat down next to an older Doctor you didn’t recognise, who gave you a kind smile. He must have noticed you your nervous expression as he mumbled something along the lines of “We’re in the best place we can be.” To which you forced a smile back. Your pulse was so loud in your ears you could barely focus on anything as people started to file in.
You felt someone settle in next to you, but didn’t realise who it was until he spoke.
“Hope you have some snacks in that bag. I think it’s gonna be a long drive.”
He chuckled softly, bringing you out of your trance.
“Oh.” You grinned after a moment. “No… not unless you want to eat a pair of socks?”
Dr Floyd laughed, the corner of his eyes crinkling.
“Practical, I like that.” He said as he pulled his own backpack onto his lap and pulled out a pair of his own socks. “Snap.”
You laughed unexpectedly, a loud snort escaping you, and you clasped your hand over your mouth as the whole truck turned to look at you.
“Sorry.” You mumbled, but this only humoured Dr Floyd more, a deep grin etched on his face.
“I’m Bob.” He said, sticking out a hand for you to shake. You took it.
“I’m (Y/N), but my friends and family call me Rue.” You introduced yourself.
“Why Rue?” Bob asked.
“It’s a medicinal plant I was obsessed with as a kid. I was always telling anyone who would listen about the ‘Common Rue’ and asking them if they had a headache so I could try and make them medicine.” You chuckled awkwardly.
“Is that why you’re a Botanist now?” He asked you with a furrowed brow as he studied you intently. You were surprised that Bob remembered.
“I guess so. It was either that or art, but I figured Botany would get me into more debt and take up more of my time so I chose that.” You joked, Bob chuckled again.
Just before Bob could respond, one of the army personnel climbed into the truck and addressed your small group.
“Hello ladies and gentlemen. I’m Sergeant Williams. I know this must be confusing, but everything is going to be fine. We’ve selected each of you specifically because you are the best in your field, and we need your help.” He scanned the truck making eye contact with each of you.
“The virus has been contained, for now, however we don’t know that nuking this thing will eradicate it completely.” He continued. As he spoke, people began to murmur to one another.
“I’ll need quiet please.” He instructed sternly, and the truck grew silent again.
“We’re taking you all aboard our largest aircraft carrier out in the south Atlantic sea, it’s safe and secluded and has all the equipment you’ll need.”
“Equipment for what?” Somebody asked.
“A cure.” Sergeant Williams put simply, “We need a cure. Truth be told we’ve never seen anything quite like this before. If Ebola and Rabies had a baby, even that wouldn’t be quite as bad.” He suddenly looked grave as he continued quietly. “We can try to contain this thing, kill it even, but what we haven’t told you is that we’ve been trying to do just that for weeks. We couldn’t risk letting anyone panic, so we cordoned off the infectious diseases unit and isolated anyone who came in contact with it to be sure, but it’s proving harder than it looks…” he trailed off, but soon realised how terrified everyone looked.
“However, that’s why we have our brightest and best on the job. We’ve specially selected each of you based on your knowledge and what you bring to the table, you’ll work together and before you know it this will all be over.”
“But what about our families?” Someone called.
“You’re doing this for your families! If you don’t, who do you think will be able to?” Sergeant Williams began to sweat, and as everyone whispered to one another, you sat with your head against the trucks tarpaulin wall and tried not to be sick. Truth be told, you thought you were not meant to be there. If it was only the best of the best, there was definitely some mistake. Your imposter syndrome well and truly flaring up, you thought about sticking up your hand and explaining there must have been a mix up.
But before you could, Bob turned to you with a reassuring smile, and chuckled.
“No pressure then I guess.”
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- Entry 2 Here -
I don’t have a Taglist for this series but I will be updating my Masterlist as I go 💛
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roosterforme · 2 days
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Thanksgiving Liars (Rooster x Reader)
Part of The What If Collection of blurbs for Roo and Baby Girl. My masterlist. Banner by @mak-32
Warnings: language, fluff
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After you ended the call, you tossed your phone aside and looked at Bradley as he cradled you on his lap. "Do you think they fell for it?" you asked him.
"Gullible," he replied with a nod. "They're all so fucking gullible."
You erupted into laughter as he rolled you onto your back on the couch. "They aren't going to know what hit them. Planning a whole entire wedding in just two months? They will all be shocked."
Bradley kissed you and guided your arms above your head, pinning them gently to the cushion. "We intive them for Thanksgiving dinner, wine and dine them with your incredible cooking, and then... Bam! Welcome to our wedding, suckers."
You couldn't stop laughing as he kissed you and teased you with his nose everywhere. "Our moms will both cry," you giggled. "Your dad will think it's great that we decided to get married in a parking lot, and my dad will ask if we're hurting for money for the exact same reason."
Bradley pressed his lips to your ear and whispered, "It makes me wild that you thought of it in the first place. Right there in the spot where we had our first kiss is absolutely where we should get married."
"I agree."
He ran his fingers along your arm, and you snuggled against him as he said, "You've been working so hard, Baby Girl. I know what getting another promotion means to you, and I'm already proud. But thank you for agreeing to get married this year."
"Hey," you replied softly, taking his chin in your hand. "I want to marry you, Roo. More than anything. And this is going to be perfect."
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Bradley was practically cackling as you and he cleaned up the plates after Thanksgiving dinner. Everyone was still mulling over glasses of wine and the promise of dessert when the two of you slipped into the kitchen. 
"They are oblivious," he said, setting some dishes in the sink while you pumped your fist silently in the air.
"They have absolutely no idea!" you hissed. "Your mom thinks you're going to teach her how to surf tomorrow."
"I don't even fucking know how to surf!"
Bradley watched you double over in quiet yet hysterical laughter as you gripped the edge of the counter for support. "That's why it's so funny!"
He had to press his fist against his lips to keep silent as he heard your dad and Nat laughing about something in the dining room. Your wedding dress was hanging in the bedroom closet, and so was his outfit. But everyone else would be arriving to the beach parking lot tomorrow thinking they'd been invited to hang out all afternoon and evening. "This was the best idea you've ever had," Bradley said as you stood again with tears in your eyes, and you wrapped him up in a hug.
"I can't wait! Now let's get these pies out there and get this show on the road."
But you and he both burst out into another round of stifled laughter before you were able to keep it together long enought to get the desserts on the table. 
"Hey, what time should we all meet at the beach tomorrow?" Nat asked as she helped herself to nearly half of the apple pie. 
"Around 3:00," you and Bradley replied at the same time. The plan was that you'd fake a stomach ache and skip the lunch plans with your parents and his so you could get changed into your dress. Bradley would entertain everyone without you before telling them to change at the hotel and meet at the beach which was right across the street. It was flawless. Inspired. All courtesy of your breautiful brain. 
"We'll have dinner on the beach and watch the sunset," you added. "It'll be great."
Bradley watched his mom stand up from the table and immediately give you a hug. "Dinner was perfect, my sweet girl. Thank you for such a beautiful day, I don't know what could beat it! But I'm going to take Goose back to the hotel before he falls asleep."
Sure enough, Bradley's dad looked like he was about to doze off in a turkey induced coma at the table while everyone else around him chatted.
You kissed Carole's cheek and said, "See you tomorrow," with a secret glint in your eye before turning toward Bradley.
When everyone was gone, he left the mess in the kitchen; he would clean it up later. "Can I take you to bed now?" he asked as he followed you down the hallway.
But you stopped in the doorway. "About that... shouldn't you sleep in the other bedroom? It's supposed to be bad luck to see each other."
Bradley laughed, but you did look kind of serious. "Oh, you're not joking." When you shrugged in response, he said, "All I've had is good luck since I met you, Sweetheart. The best luck."
"You almost died when you were deployed," you deadpanned.
"And luckily you were here to nurse me back to perfect health with your love," he replied easily. Then he sighed when you didn't laugh. "If you want me to, I'll go sleep in the other room."
You chewed on your lip and crossed and then uncrossed your arms. You shuffled your feet and groaned. "It'll feel like you're deployed again, and I don't like that. So nevermind." You took him by the hand and led him to bed where he stayed with you all night.
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You thought you'd be a little nervous, but you weren't. You thought you might feel a little self-conscious in your wedding dress, but you didn't. When you pulled into the parking lot in your shitty, red car, Bradley was already there, and you gasped as you looked at him, somehow more handsome than ever before. 
"Sweetheart," he sighed when he opened your door and reached out to help you stand. You could tell he had some tears gathering in his eyes, but you knew you did, too. You went right into his arms as he said, "You're beautiful." Then your lips met his as you both stood in that empty parking spot between the two vehicles, where you'd shared your first kiss. Thousands of kisses later, it was the spot where you and he would make your forever promises to each other.
"You'll end up wearing my lipstick," you whispered, breaking the kiss briefly before he chased you down for more. 
"I don't care."
The two of you were fully making out, your fingers in his hair as you moaned his name, when Maverick arrived on that ancient motorcycle. He whistled as he removed his helmet. "Want me to come back later?" he joked. 
"Absolutely not, Uncle Mav," Bradley told him. "I want to get married as soon as possible."
You smiled up at Bradley and tried to wipe your lipstick from his face with your thumbs as Maverick went over the short ceremony he had planned. He was your only accomplice today. He knew the truth where everyone else only knew the Thanksgiving lie. "Sound good?" he asked with his signature smile.
"Sounds perfect," you told him, kissing his cheek and leaving another smudge behind. 
Bradley had his chin resting on your shoulder as said, "It's almost 3:30. And oh shit, look. Here they come."
You turned to toward the hotel, and you saw all four parents in their beach going attire as they crossed the street at the crosswalk. Your mom saw you first and froze on the sidewalk as she shook your dad's arm. Then you heard Carole scream, "She's wearing her wedding dress! The dress we helped her pick out in Maryland!" Goose must have slept off his turkey stupor, because he was the first one to make his way past the Bronco to where the two of you were standing in his loud, tropical print shirt.
Goose had his son in his arms, slapping him on the back and then rubbing rough circles while they shared a whispered conversation that you knew was too private for you to hear. But it didn't matter, because Carole was screeching her way toward you. 
"I knew it! I knew it from the first time he mentioned you that you'd get married," she said, pulling you into her arms. She kissed your cheek seven times before she said. "The way my Bradley talked about you made me so hopeful for his future, and I just knew you'd be his wife. But I didn't know it would be today! I'm wearing a bathing suit!"
You laughed and said, "Surprise!" just as your parents reached you. 
Your mom had tears on her cheeks as she said, "I don't appreciate being lied to, but this is okay."
Your dad pulled you in for a hug and asked, "Are you getting married in the parking lot? If you needed money, you could have asked."
Your laughter rang out, and Bradley looked at you as you said, "My dad wants to know if we're getting married in the parking lot."
"Yes, we definitely are," Bradley replied as Carole sobbed against his chest. "This parking spot is where she kissed me for the first time. It was perfect. I was already half in love, and that threw me over the edge."
You could feel the heat rising in your face as a chorus of 'Aww!' came from everyone around you while Bradley smiled. And then the cars started pulling in. Nat was hanging out the window yelling when she saw you, and Jake drove right over some of the orange cones that had the far entrance blocked off. The commotion got louder and louder as all of your friends arrived, jostling you around in their excitement. 
"What a pair of sneaky liars!" Jake shouted in just his board shorts. "We're all going to look like a bunch of idiots in your wedding photos."
"You'd have looked that way regardless," Bradley told him as he pulled you closer. His brown eyes were wide and hopeful as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "Everyone's here, Baby Girl. You ready to do this thing?"
You nodded and pecked him on the cheek. All of your friends were chattering and already taking pictures. Your parents were holding hands and smiling. Carole and Goose were looking at you like you were the best thing they'd ever seen in their lives. And Maverick was waiting quietly. 
"Yes. I'm ready, Roo," you promised, and he ran his thumb along your cheek as he whispered your name. 
"Okay, Mav," he rasped without taking his eyes off your face. "Make her my wife."
----------------------------
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topgun-imagines · 7 months
Text
Say My Name
Requested: no
Summary: You find out just how big Bradley is. He really does live up to his call sign.
Word count: 3.4k
Note: banner by @lewmagoo
Warnings: smut, oral sex (f!recieving), fingering, anal fingering, size kink, overstimulation, unprotected sex, cum play. Please let me know if I missed anything!
Pairings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader
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The air in the bedroom was filled with tension. You were on your third glass of wine and Bradley had just begun pouring his second. Nerves surged through you. Tonight, you were planning on having your first time with Bradley. While the two of you had been dating for nearly seven months, you had yet to sleep together. The thought had you nervously fiddling with the hem of your short skirt.
Bradley had made the two of you a nice dinner before leading you to his bedroom. Despite how much you wanted this, you couldn’t settle the butterflies in your stomach. Sure, you had slept with others before Bradley. However, given the things that you had heard about him from his fellow pilots, you felt more nervous than usual as you stared at the gold chain he was wearing. You had done some sexual stuff with the pilot before, but you had yet to see what he was packing. Honestly, that was what had you the most nervous.
No matter how hard you tried to ignore the teasing from the rest of his squadron about his size, you simply couldn’t. Not when Jake kept making crude remarks about his callsign having some sort of double meaning and teasing you about what he saw in the locker rooms. You could never get away from it. Now, you couldn’t help but find yourself staring at the bulge straining in his jeans.
His deep chuckle was what broke you out of your trance. “See something you like, Princess?” There was a teasing lilt to his voice. You blushed deeply, sipping the last drop of wine from your glass. “C’mere.” He rasped. Instantly, you obeyed, crawling into his lap and straddling his thick thighs. His glass was set on the nightstand before his hands came to sit on the tops of your thighs.
The tickle of his mustache as he peppered kisses across your neck had you squirming in his lap. You clenched around nothing at the guttural groan he let out. From where you were sitting right now, you could tell he was big. Moaning quietly, you nearly melted when Bradley gripped your hips and pulled you down closer to his growing bulge.
“Bradley,” You moaned out with barely concealed need. Another grunt was released into your neck. “Fuck,” Panting with your head tossed back, the feeling of Bradley’s lips travelling down your chest had you shivering. “I need you. Please.” It was the neediest sound you had ever made in your life.
Time seemed to stand still as Bradley lifted you off his lap. You whined at the loss of warmth before laid you down on the bed and crawled on top of you. Cooing quietly at your pitiful whine, the pilot smirked at your frantic state. As Bradley continued to kiss down your neck, your chest was rising and falling quickly. “I’m gonna make you feel real good, baby girl.” His words were a promise; one that you knew he would make good on.
Your blouse was slowly unbuttoned as Bradley peppered kisses across your soft skin. When he finally reached the last button, you were out of breath, panting loudly. Now, you were left in nothing but your lacy bra and short skirt. Unbeknownst to Bradley, you had nothing on under that skirt. Feeling Braldey’s mustache tickling the sensitive skin of your stomach had you wanting to giggle. But the pleasurable warmth in your core had you moaning out instead.
Next, Bradley began massaging your thighs, shimmying further down the bed until he was level with your thighs. You breathed in deeply, nerves rearing their ugly head again. Ever so slowly, Bradley reached under you and pulled the zipper of your short skirt down. It took every fibre of your being to focus your breathing. Bradley had eaten you out before, but knowing what would be coming after had you shaking.
Your legs parted enough so that Bradley could slot in between them, knees bending and feet planted firmly on the cool sheets. Before you even realized what was happening, Bradley had your legs tossed over your shoulder and he was softly nipping the sensitive insides of your thighs. When Bradley lifted his head, he was met with the sight of your bare, puffy cunt. He groaned loudly, his cock managing to harden even more in his tight jeans.
Seconds later you were met with the feeling of Bradley’s tongue running over your slit delicately. Instantly, a sharp cry escaped you. Tangling your fingers in your boyfriend's curly hair, you tugged when his lips sealed around your clit. The feeling had you arching off the bed, your heels digging into the pilot’s back.
For the next few minutes, the only sounds that could be heard in the room were your loud, wanton moans and the lewd sounds coming from between your legs. Bradley’s tongue was now prodding against your entrance, teasing you relentlessly. You found it hard to breathe as cry after cry escaped you. Slowly, your high began building. When two of your boyfriend’s thick fingers pushed meticulously inside your weeping cunt, your back arched so hard off the bed, Bradley had to pause to make sure you were okay.
The grin on his face when he heard your needy whines was nothing short of devious. Without hesitation, he returned to sucking on your clit and working his fingers in and out of your slick entrance quickly. “Oh!” You cried out from the delicious
Bradley was relentless. His thick fingers stretched you open deliciously, making a scissoring motion as he licked around your greedy hole. Your moans slowly grew higher and higher in pitch. Outside of your field of vision, Bradley brought his other hand up and between your legs. The sudden press of his thumb against your tight, puckered hole had you nearly screaming. “Oh, my god.” The words were slurred together. That familiar coil in the pit of your stomach was almost ready to snap.
The tip of his thumb suddenly slipped into your tight hole, creating a delicious pressure. More slick leaked from your slit. As Bradley’s fingers kept up their pace inside of your puffy cunt, the squelching sound got louder the wetter you got. There wasn’t a single coherent thought in your mind as Bradley’s thumb pushed further into your ass, his fingers stretched apart even further and his lips sealed around your clit. All at once, he sucked on your clit harshly, pressed his fingers into your sweet spot, and pressed his thumb in as far as possible.
You were so close. In a few seconds, you would be gushing around his fingers. “Bradley,” You panted, fingers gripping his brown locks like a lifeline. “Stop.” He froze instantly, eyes snapping up to meet yours. His fingers slowed until they stopped and his thumb moved to draw back. But when you whined at the sensation in your puckered hole, he stopped his movements altogether.
“Honey?” He started, rubbing your thigh softly and smearing your slick on your smooth skin in the process. “What’s wrong.?” It was whispered into the soft skin of your stomach The tickle of his mustache against your stomach had you giggling. Even though your core was clenching around nothing and you could still feel his finger moving slowly inside your ass. Regardless of the worry bubbling in his chest, Bradley smiled at the sound of your laughter.
You offered him a blissed-out smile, moaning softly at the movements of his thumb. “Nothin’,” At those words, Bradley slipped his fingers back inside of your dripping cunt. You were so wet that there was zero friction as he pushed them in until the second knuckle. You were instantly whiny again. “Wait,” You tried again. This time, Bradley only slowed his ministrations. “I wanna come on your cock.” The widest grin you had ever seen broke out on your boyfriend's face.
Teasingly, he leaned down and allowed his tongue to flick over your clit. A chuckle escaped him. You had no idea what you were in for. “Honey,” There was a teasing lilt to his voice. “You’re gonna need at least two before I even think about letting you cum on my cock.” His words caused you to let out a shuddering breath. Sure, you knew that he was big. After all, you couldn’t go anywhere without someone reminding you of that fact. But his words caused you to wonder just how big he was.
Before you could snark back, his thumb pushed in as far as it could and his lips sealed around your clit. Crying out again, your heels dug further into Bradley’s back and you pulled so hard on his curly locks you thought that some of the hair would come out. Instead, he groaned and began slurping harder. Within seconds, you were gushing around his fingers, cuming so hard you could have sworn you saw stars.
As you were coming down, Bradley drew his thumb from your ass and pulled his sticky fingers from your core. Your cum slowly dripped down your opening. Once you were coherent again, your eyes slowly looked down at Bradley. He was transfixed on the sight between your thighs. The tip of his index finger slowly began to swirl through the creamy mess between your thighs. It dipped shallowly into your opening and scooped out some more of your cum.
The overstimulation was almost becoming too much for you. Now, Bradley’s finger was swirling your cum around your sensitive clit. Your whines were breathly, so much so that Bradley could hardly hear them. Nevertheless, he continued, drawing moan after moan from your parted and chapped lips.
Within minutes, you were right on the brink again. Feeling that delicious pressure building faster than ever, you shifted your hips until Bradley’s face was, quite literally, buried in your slick cunt. As you tipped over the edge for the second time in a matter of minutes, Bradley stared at your expression in awe.
Your legs were shaking. So much so that Bradley was almost convinced he went too far. But when your eyes fluttered open, Bradley could see the pure pleasure swimming in your eyes. “How was that, Honey?” There was a low timbre to his voice as the coarse hairs of his mustache rubbed against your smooth thighs. Your breathing was heavy and your fingers couldn’t stop twitching, but you had never felt better. So that was exactly what you told him.
“That was amazing,” You sat up, half expecting Bradley to push you back down and pull another orgasm from you. Crawling up your body, one of your boyfriend’s large hands rubbed at your side before grabbing your tit. A soft moan escaped you before you grinned up at the pilot. “But, I think you know that I want something else.” Your words were punctuated with a soft squeeze of his rock-hard cock.
The groan that he released was nearly primal. With one last passionate kiss pressed to your lips, he slowly, almost teasingly, unbuttoned his jeans. Then, he peeled his black boxers off his toned and muscular thighs. Your eyes were fixed between his legs, not blinking as you came face to face with his sheer size. “B-Bradley,” You stuttered, beginning to shake slightly. Snapping your eyes up to meet his, your boyfriend had a smug grin on his face. “There’s no way that that’s going to fit.”
The chuckle that escaped him was nearly mocking. “Yes, it will.” Those were the last words he spoke before he was leaning over you again. His hard cock rubbed into your thigh while he was sucking dark marks that contrasted against your unblemished skin into the side of your neck.
After a few minutes of nothing more than kissing softly, Bradley finally pulled back. His hands were warm as they rubbed softly over your sides, an attempt to soothe you that didn't go unnoticed. “Are you ready, baby?” Regardless of the fact that you couldn’t tame the nerves fluttering in your stomach, you nodded. With a smile, he kissed your forehead. Against your skin, he whispered that he was going to get a condom and the lube.
You stopped him. For the first time tonight, you felt one hundred percent prepared for what was about to happen. “No,” Bradley looked at you confused, wondering why you had changed your mind. Kneeling next to him, you placed one hand on his bare chest, stroking the tanned skin softly. Seductively, you whispered in his ear. “No condom. I wanna feel you.” You were on the pill, and you knew that both Bradley and yourself were clean.
His breathing seemed to stop and then there was a wide smile on his face. You squealed when he kissed you passionately, laying you down on the bed and leaving you breathless as he disappeared in search of lube. The sight of his bare backside walking away had you giggling dreamily. When he returned from the bathroom, you were met with the sight of his shockingly large cock between his legs. At that sight, you didn’t laugh as much.
For the next few seconds, you and Bradley were quiet. Soft touches were shared between the two of you before your boyfriend pulled back once more. His fingers dipped between your legs, checking to see just how wet you were. A soft moan escaped you as he swirled your slick around your clit. The next thing you knew, you could hear the cap of the lube snapping open. Suddenly, you felt the cold drop running down your slit. A hiss escaped you before Bradley slipped his fingers into you once more.
The next few minutes were spent with Bradley opening you up even further than you already were. You could feel that familiar pressure building once more. But, instead of Bradley leading you over that delicious edge, he stopped right as you were about to tip over. You groaned.
With a chuckle, Bradley slowly crawled up your body. “You ready, baby?” You could only nod, wanting nothing more than for Bradley to be seated inside of you. As he poured some more lube onto his hand, you got a sinister idea. The thought had you smirking. However, you were stopped in your tracks as you watched Bradley wrap his hand around his thick cock. His fingers couldn’t even touch.
For the first time tonight, you found yourself focusing on his cock. It was long, longer than you had seen before and curved toward the end. His tip was an angry red colour and as he stroked himself, you could see the pre-cum leaking down his shaft. Your eyes traced the vein that ran up the bottom before your eyes snapped up to your boyfriend’s. He had caught you red-handed.
Now, you decided to act on your plan. Before Bradley could realize what was happening, you had flipped him over and were straddling his thick thighs. He looked up at you in shock. With one hand, you gripped his cock and with the other you stabilized yourself against his chest. Biting your lip, your eyes locked with his as you began to stroke him. After a few seconds of building up your courage, you slowly sank down on him. Your warm and slick cunt sunk down onto his fat, mushroom tip with hardly any resistance.
Within the first few seconds, you were a moaning mess. There was less than two inches inside of you and you were already losing your mind. You couldn’t even begin to fathom taking the rest of him. Bradley could sense that you were struggling, so, your boyfriend’s hands gripped your hips. Slowly, he helped you sink down onto him. The breath rushed from your lungs in a matter of seconds. Now, you were just over halfway down Bradley’s cock and you felt like you were being split in half.
“That’s it, Princess,” He encouraged you as your greedy cunt swallowed another inch of him. “Doing so good.” With careful movements, he pulled you down until your head was resting on his chest, the steady sound of his heartbeat under your ear. Ever so slowly, Bradley pulled down your hips until they were flush with his. The second he was fully seated inside of you, you let out the most pornographic moan Bradley had ever heard.
One of his hands grabbed your ass and the other cradled the back of your head. The next few minutes were spent with Bradley simply letting you adjust to his size. His sheer girth had you whining quietly against his skin, sticky with sweat. After about four minutes, Bradley planted his feet and shifted slightly. That caused the tip of his cock to press right against your sweet spot. Once again, you couldn’t help but moan loudly.
Ever so slowly, your boyfriend began rocking into you. With each thrust, Bradley would only pull himself out a little bit, leaving the rest of his pulsing cock stuffed inside of you. Then he would push back in, filling you to the brim once more. The feeling of his mushroom tip hitting your spot over and over again had you seeing stars. “Say my name.” It was more of a command than a request.
“Fuck, Bradley!” You cried out, hips beginning to raise and fall of their own accord. He grunted hips smacking into yours as he fucked you.
You grunted, feet planted firmly against the bed as he pistoned his weeping cock into you. “No,” He taunted, slowing his thrusts until he was hardly moving. “Not that one.” The realization of what he wanted you to do was almost enough to make you cum.
“Oh my god,” You rushed out, fist forming as you curled into his chest further. “Rooster!” It was almost a scream. The way the words rushed out of you so fast, Bradley was almost concerned. Almost. “Rooster, please. Please fuck me.” At that, Bradley moaned. He had never heard such a sweet sound as you begging for him to fuck you. It was music to his ears.
Loud moans and grunts filled the room as Bradley began to thrust harder and deeper. Now you were clinging to him, puffy cunt stretched out more than you ever would have thought possible. Your boyfriend gripped your hips harshly, raising you up on his thick cock before slamming you down onto him. That sent a sharp cry out of you, your face turning until it was buried against his chest.
Suddenly, your whole body tensed. Bradley, once again, had slipped his thumb into your tight ring of muscle. The moan that you let out was nearly a scream. Feeling his thick cock in your dripping core and his thumb pushing into your ass sent you reeling. “Imagine what my cock would feel like in this tight, little ass of yours.” He punctuated his words with a hard thrust. His thumb slipped out of your ass seconds later. The fucked-out look on your face wasn’t going away anytime soon.
This pattern continued for the next few minutes until Bradley's thrusts began growing erratic. You were so, so close. All you needed was a little bit more and you would be falling into blissful pleasure. Bradley gave you that little bit more in mere seconds.
His thumb pressed hard against your clit, rubbing the small pearl in circular motions. You found yourself clenching around him with your eyes rolling back. There was an obscene amount of your sweet release leaking out around your boyfriend’s thick cock. He held you carefully as you slowly came down from your high.
Before you had time to recover, however, your boyfriend was pumping his cum into you, thick, white ropes painting your walls. You shuddered at the foreign feeling. Regardless of the other guys you had been with before, you had never let any of them do what you and Bradley just did. His cock was still throbbing inside you. The feeling almost had you cumming again.
Ever so slowly, Bradley lifted you off his softening cock. It had you whining and whimpering. You clenched around nothing, his cum starting to leak out of you. It dripped onto his lap as he pulled your hips up. You were breathless as he set your hips down on his thigh, your cunt clenching desperately at the pressure suddenly placed on your clit. His arms wound around your stomach, holding you tightly against his sweaty chest.
In less than five minutes, you were drifting off against his chest, feeling his warm cum still dripping out of your puffy and abused cunt. Needless to say, the next day, you were walking with a limp.
a/n: Thank you for reading! Requests are open :)
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simpforrooster · 4 months
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actually, it’s captain.
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Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x f!reader
summary: request for @kpopgirlbtssvt. rooster’s girl is hit on by Top Gun students.
t/w: touch her, you d i e trope. cursing. mentions of alcohol.
Rooster leans against the bar, laughing at something Penny tells him. His jeans hang low on his hips, and he’s wearing the Hawaiian shirt you bought him for his birthday.
Rooster’s hand slaps the bar as he continues to howl. Penny and Mav exchange a look. Maverick murmurs something to Penny. Your guess would be “it wasn’t that funny.”
You throw back the rest of your drink. As your glass returns to the table, a group of men circle you, all clad in khaki. Must be new Top Gun recruits.
“What’s a pretty little gal like you sittin’ here alone for?” one of them asks you, his accent very similar to Hangman’s.
“Mind if we join ya?” the second asks. Before you can reply, two of the slide in across from you, while the one who spoke first sits next to you. His burly arm comes up around your shoulder. You stiffen under him, feeling small.
And not in the way you feel with Rooster. He makes you feel small, protected, but also empowered. This guy has a hold on you like he’s claiming you. Telling every other guy in the bar he plans on taking you home.
“This here’s Crane and Sorry,” he points to the two in front of you. “And you can call me Pleasure. As in, it’s a pleasure to meet you. As in, the way all ladies feel after a night with me.” He winks. He actually winks.
Your brain is so shocked, you can’t form words. You should take this guy’s arm and bend it behind your back, the way your dad taught you. You should give him on of your grade-a verbal lashings.
But you don’t. The sheer audacity of this man has you frozen.
You try to make eye contact with Rooster, but Pleasure’s frame blocks your view.
“Get your hands off my girlfriend, asshole.” Rooster’s voice makes a relieved breath come from your mouth. His tone of voice would make anyone run for the hills, but it leaves you full of wanting.
Pleasure chuckles, meeting Rooster’s gaze. “Actually, it’s Lieutenant.”
Crane and Sorry exchange an amused look. Rooster’s face is set in a hard line. He reaches for Pleasure’s bicep, ripping him from the booth.
“I said to get your hands off my girlfriend, asshole.” Rooster is a whole head taller than the aviator that just had himself draped on you.
“Shouldn’t leave your girl all alone, dick.” Pleasure tells him, bowing up. Rooster’s mouth pulls up on the left, giving him one of his infamous cocky smirks. Second only to Hangman’s.
“Actually, it’s Captain. And I hope to God you’re in one of my classes. Lieutenant.”
At this, you see Pleasure audibly gulp, knowing he’s fucked up. Rooster still has a death grip on his arm.
“Come on, man. Make my day,” the words come out laced with venom.
Before things can get out of hand, you hop out of the booth and high tail it to Penny. Quickly giving her a synopsis, she rings the bell, signaling these guys need to be thrown out. Hangman, Omaha, and Coyote each grab one of the guys and drag them to the exit.
Rooster joins you at the bar, taking your face in his hands. Those brown eyes roam over you, searching.
Your hands come up to cradle his face, “Roos, I’m fine.”
“When I saw him draped over you, I saw red. Nobody touches my girl.” He leans down to place a kiss against your temple. Rooster’s words have your toes curling in your shoes. You’ve never seen this side of him.
You lower your hands to his shoulders, threading one of them in his curly hair that’s definitely longer than Military regulation.
“You’re the only one I want touching me,” you murmur in his ear, your face flushing.
“Yeah?” he murmurs back.
Not trusting your voice to not come out completely needy, you nod.
“Come on, guys. Quit being disgusting,” Maverick says to the two of you, feigning gagging.
Penny pops his hand over the bar, eliciting a laugh from him.
Rooster ignores him, placing a deep kiss onto your mouth.
“Take me home, baby,” you say, taking in those brown eyes.
“I don’t know, pretty girl, I don’t think I can get further than the Bronco,” he winks.
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withahappyrefrain · 4 months
Text
Somebody to Love
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Summary: Attending a cookout hosted by Penny seemed like the perfect way to kickstart summer. Meeting and falling in love there wasn't on yours or Bradley's bingo list.
Warnings: Language, Bradley being a loverboy, female reader
For @roosterforme's Rocktober event! I'm so sorry it took so long and hope you enjoy it!
The first time you saw Bradley was at the Hard Deck.  
He completely missed you, as much as it pains him to admit. 
In his defense, his eyes were on the ivory keys of the piano, only looking up briefly to revel in the cheers from guests of the Hard Deck as he played. 
You, in his defense, were just trying to get in and out. Considering it was barely seven, you thought you were coming in before things got rowdy.
You were mistaken. 
The show he was putting on was nice to watch while you waited for Penny to be free. But that's all it was, a show. And after a while, you couldn't help but scoff. Was being in the Navy not enough attention? 
The smile on Penny's face when her eyes met yours was worth the wait. You pulled out the coveted book from your bag, raising it in the air as if it were the golden ticket. 
"Amelia is going to be so excited," Penny beamed as she took the book from you, "She's been talking about it for weeks!"
The mention of your former student brought a smile to your face. 
Amelia was a student during your first year of teaching. You felt a kinship to the young girl, whose parents were going through a divorce at the time. You also saw that her love of reading was untapped, blocked by years of past teachers failing to help her learn how to read. 
So you worked with her the whole year, and the summer after that, helping the girl catch up. One summer, Penny offered a bartender job when she heard you were looking for extra money. Over time, the Benjamin women had become more like family than your own. 
It's why you stayed in touch. Why you took on extra shifts occasionally during the school year, when Penny truly needed help at the last minute. Why you made the trip out to the Hard Deck simply to give a book. 
"Stay for a drink? It's on the house," Penny held up an empty glass, hoping the way it gleamed in the light could entice you into staying. 
But you looked around, taking in how many people were there, how loud it was. How the man wearing aviators and a Hawaiian shirt was feeding the crowd with the piano rendition of a song that sounded familiar. 
And simply shook your head. 
"Should get going, it is a school night." The truth was, you'd rather be at home, in your bed reading than staying out late with a bunch of pilots. 
Before you could say goodbye, Penny placed a hand on yours.
"Before you go Birdie, I wanted to let you know that we're celebrating Amelia's middle school graduation two weeks from Saturday. We'd love to have you there." 
You smiled, sincerely flattered that they would want you present for such an event, "I'd love to. Will your man of the hour be there?" 
A giggle escaped from you when you saw Penny's cheeks begin to turn pink. 
Bradley swears if he had looked over at that moment, he wouldn't have let you leave the Hard Deck that night. 
—------------------------
Bradley Bradshaw was not anti-romance, despite what his friends claimed, despite the numerous times he's turned down someone wanting to set him up. 
The idea of romance did appeal to him. The idea of spending the rest of his life with one person, who loved him and wanted to grow a family with him, was very appealing in theory. 
He wasn't against it at all. Just cautious. 
Cautious as he witnessed first hand how dangerous his job was, how it tore families apart. Hesitant because he grew up with the aftermath- the support groups, the sympathetic looks, the empty dining chair that served as a loud, always present reminder of what he and his mother had lost. 
He had been on dates, had been in relationships. They never went anywhere and Bradley was fine with that. The possibility that he may not come back from his deployments lingered in his mind, as did the image of someone receiving a flag and maybe his dog tags. 
Why put someone through that? 
“It's hard, but I wouldn't change a thing about it. You'll understand when it happens to you.” 
His mother’s words rang in his ears. He knew she meant well. Bradley knew those words were true for her. 
But he couldn't see them being true for himself. 
So he came to Amelia’s graduation party with a vegetable tray and no date, despite Penny’s insistence that he could bring someone. 
It's why Bradley walked straight past the kitchen, ignoring the unfamiliar voices. It's why he kept to the people he knew, rather than mingle with strangers. 
And that was fine, enjoyable even. Things were going the way they always went, the way Bradley wanted it. 
Consistent. 
Bradley Bradshaw lived for consistency. Each morning, he'd get up and go to work. Work hard until his bones ache. Spend time with friends and the makeshift family he had found. Go to bed alone. Rinse and repeat. 
Consistent. 
Everything was just fine, until Bradley felt a hand grip his shoulder. When he turned around, he found Jake and his fiancé, Danica (or Venus, as everyone called her), looking at him. 
“Your future wife is in the kitchen. Get in there.” 
—-------------------------------
Bob saw her first. 
It was hard to miss the sound of classic rock blaring from her red Subaru. 
The sounds of eighties rock was a nice change from the Jerry Lewis and Sinatra music Bradley insisted on playing. 
Even nicer was her voice. Sweet, smooth, light. 
She was clearly in her own world, unaware she had an audience. 
Nor would she. Bob knew better than anyone the pains of people walking in on him. So he quietly got out of his car, leaving her to finish the song by herself. 
Reuben was the first one to speak to her. 
Or rather, his daughter was. 
Ava, always determined to explore, ran into the kitchen as soon as he set her on the ground. 
It was easy to find her. Despite being only two, Ava had quite the voice on her. 
Given her shouts about cookies, Reuben wasn’t surprised when he found his daughter in the kitchen, pointing excitedly to a plate of sugar cookies. 
He was a little surprised to see that the person kneeling down to talk to her wasn’t Penny, but rather a woman he had never seen before. 
“Is it okay if I give her a cookie?” She asked, motioning to the sugar cookie she was holding in her hand. 
“As long as you're able to cut her off after two,” Reuben chuckled, “I'm warning you now, she can be hard to convince.” 
You smiled, the corners of your eyes crinkling, the bridge of your nose scrunching up as you looked at Ava, “It'll be tough, but I think I can manage.” 
Javy was the first one to try to include her in the picnic festivities. 
“Hey, don't tell them this is what we’re calling them, but we’re playing beer pong against the old timers in the basement. You in?” He asked. 
“Oh I'm good, but don't worry, your secret is safe with me,” She said with a gentle smile and a wink. 
It was the fact that she sounded assured, content to stay in the kitchen and continue making small talk with some of the wives, away from the hubbub of the picnic, that made him not push. 
Natasha was the first one to have an actual conversation with her. 
In a sea full of testosterone, it was  hard not to notice another woman. Especially one who looked around her age. 
“So how do you know Penny?” You looked rather surprised by Nat’s question, surprised that another person had noticed you in the kitchen and decided to converse.
“Oh, I'm, well, I was Amelia’s third grade teacher. I tutored her for a couple of summers and have helped Penny bartend when she needs extra help,” you explained. 
Natasha recalls Penny mentioning you a few times, now able to put a face to the name. 
“So you're the teacher! Penny said we might see you at the Hard Deck this summer,” Nat grinned, hoping it would help her feel more at ease. 
“I am! I'm still figuring out how exactly I want to spend my summer. First time I won't be doing summer school or tutoring,” you explained, continuing to wash the dishes that had begun to pile up on the counter. 
“Any travel plans? Or family you plan to visit?” Nat asked. 
You shook your head, eyes appearing dismal for a brief moment, “I don't have much family to visit. But I have been meaning to explore the area more, so I might do that.” 
Natasha knew not to press. You didn't owe her any further explanation. 
But out of all people, Jake Seresin was the one to make the connection. 
“I’m sorry, but what did Penny just call you?” He asked, jamming a finger up his ear to clean it out, convinced he heard it wrong. 
“Oh, Birdie!” you explained, flustered, “It’s um….it’s always been a nickname that friends and family have called me, ever since I was a kid. When I told Penny, she started calling me that too.”
Jake recalls the other details he's learned; a love of classic rock, vintage clothes and children, how your face lit up when someone spoke to you, as though you had  been waiting an awfully long time to be noticed, to be acknowledged. 
Your nickname. 
It hits Jake like a fucking freight train. 
“Excuse me, I have to go uh, um, find my wife,” he said abruptly, practically running out of the kitchen. 
Jake quickly found his Venus, tapping her on the shoulder as he ignored the death glare Phoenix was giving him for interrupting. 
“What is-” 
“Birdie. Her nickname is Birdie.” 
Danica’s amber-glazed eyes widened as she shot Natasha a knowing look. 
“Where is she?” 
Which is how Bradley Bradshaw found himself being dragged away from the grill and into Penny's house. 
After all, Bradley didn't have too much common sense. He would insist he was alright, despite losing his beat as he watched his close friends fall in love and get married. 
So they were just helping, helping him find somebody to love. 
“Y'all are being ridiculous, just because she likes the same music-” 
“It's more than that. You just need to see for yourself,” Jake explained, pushing him towards the kitchen. Inside, a sweet voice was talking.
“Peekaboo! I see you!” He could hear a big smile through your voice, “Now it's Ava’s turn!” 
Bradley turned the corner to find you sitting cross legged on the kitchen floor, enabling you to be somewhat closer to eye level with Ava. You and the little toddler were both full of giggles as you continued your game. 
Ava’s small hands flew up to her face, covering her eyes. It was an adorable sight, how she was trying to say the words. A bright smile adorned your face, eyes shining as you played with her. 
“Where did Ava go?” You asked, pretending to look, “There she is!”
A warmth flooded Bradley’s heart as he watched this mysterious woman interact with Ava. It felt familiar,childhood memories of his mom flooding back. But this time, instead of feeling sorrow, a pleasantness surrounded him. 
Strange. 
Ava babbled, causing you to giggle once more. 
“My name is Birdie. Can you say Birdie?”
Oh. 
So that was why everyone thought this was his future wife. 
It was a cute coincidence, nothing more. Yes, it was beyond endearing to watch you interact with Ava, you were obviously great with kids. 
“Roo!” Ava’s coos of her special nickname for Bradley broke him out of his thoughts. 
“What's a Roo?” You asked, your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. The puzzled look on your face was adorable. 
“That would be me. Hey Ava girl,” Bradley kneeled down, his arms open wide, allowing Ava to run over and hug him. 
You instantly recognized him thanks to the memorable mustache. But his smile and eyes were much softer now. His whole demeanor is less cocky and more approachable in Penny’s kitchen. 
Bradley scooped the young toddler into his arms, grinning as Ava giggled. 
“You being good? Trying to persuade people to give you more cookies by being adorable?” Bradley asked the toddler. 
“I'm holding out strong. Don't want her dad to hate me for giving her a sugar rush,” You explained, a soft smile on your face as you watched him interact with Ava. 
“See, the key is to make sure the sugar rush happens when he takes her home,” Bradley grinned, “That way he can't do anything about it.” 
“I'm sure he can ask around regarding who gave her all that sugar though,” you retorted, facing the sink again to continue the dishes. 
“See, that's where you have the advantage; you're not in the group chat,” Bradley balanced Ava on a hip, walking over to the sink to join you. 
You were fun to talk to; able to hold your own with a soft, yet slightly mischievous smile adorning your face. 
“I'm Bradley,” he explained, the spirit of his mother probably screaming that it took him this long to introduce himself. 
“I take that's your actual name, considering that's way too normal to be your callsign,” normally you wouldn't tease a complete stranger like this. But he was easy to talk to and it helped that he was holding an adorable baby like a complete natural. 
“It is. My callsign is Rooster.” The information caused your hands to still. 
“Rooster?” It was too wild to be a coincidence. 
“Yeah, when I was part of my first squadron, I was always the first one to be up. But I also had a tendency to be well, louder than what they would have preferred, which is how I got my callsign Rooster.” Bradley smiled as he recalled the loud complaints of his squadron, which always seemed to die down once they learned he was making breakfast. 
“I, love that. Sorry, I, it's funny your callsign is that. Because it's like a nickname right? My nickname is Birdie,” your speech quickened as you realized you were rambling, “I know that nicknames aren't the same as callsigns. Well, in a way they are, they're both given to you for a reason, right? It's just funny how our nicknames are both-” 
“Excuse me?” You looked up to see your savior came in the form of a bespectacled man who was standing by the door. 
“I was threat-I mean, told by Danica and Phoenix that I needed to get Ava,” The man said, walking over to Bradley. 
“Bo!” Ava exclaimed, reaching for the man. 
“Sure thing Bob,” Bradley said, hanging over the toddler to his friend, unable to stop himself from rolling his eyes at his friends’ schemes. 
“C'mon Ava, let's leave the two soon to be lovebirds alone,” Bob whispered, out of the room before Bradley could say anything.
“Did he just… “
Bradley sighed, “Gotta watch out for that one. He's quiet but can be cheeky when he wants to be.” 
“As opposed to the others, who are just outright cheeky?” You asked. 
Bradley chuckled, “You're catching on. Here, I can dry while you wash?” 
He could be spending time with his squadron. Could be spending time joking with Mav’s old squad, making jokes and talking about the past that he was too young to remember. Could be anywhere but here in the kitchen, helping you do dishes. 
And yet, he didn't mind it at all. Bradley was finding himself enjoying his conversation with you, despite knowing it would earn him several eye rolls and shoulder shoves from Danica and Jake. 
You were surprised he was still here, that he hadn't found an excuse to leave. 
It was a nice change. 
“So you're the teacher Penny talks about?” 
You laughed, “Is that who I'm known as? You're like the third person to ask me that.” 
“Just shows how big of an impact you had.” Your cheeks warmed at the praise. 
“You know, you just try your best. Make sure to listen. Helps that I'm also a child of divorce, you know? Had a lot of pointers,”  you shrugged, but it was clear you were downplaying your efforts. 
“Have you always wanted to be a teacher?” Bradley asked, wanting to keep the conversation going, despite the dishes being done. 
You took your hands out of your pockets, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. Your shoulders shrug as a small smile spreads across your lips. 
“Yeah. I love helping folks, especially kids. I was a camp counselor all throughout high school and I just….felt at home when I was helping other people,” you explained. 
You leaned forward, the scent of jasmine flooding Bradley’s nostrils. 
“It makes sense that I became a teacher. But if you asked me as a kid what I wanted to do as a grown up, I wouldn't have said teaching.” 
Bradley leaned forward. With the sunlight hitting him, you could now see the lighter shades of brown that adorned his curls. 
“A mom. I’ve always wanted to be a mom.” 
“You'll understand when it happens to you.” 
Oh. Okay. 
That's when Bradley Bradley finally gets it. Because he's imagining life with you; moving in together, getting married, having kids. The risk is still there. But he'd rather live with that risk and you than not at all. 
“I know that's silly, but it's true. I mean, it's not even an occupation-” 
“I said I wanted to be a dad when I grew up.” 
Your eyes light up at his admission, feeling at ease and less like a rambling burden. 
“You must have had a really great Dad then.” There was a flash of sorrow in his eyes at the mention of his father. 
“From what I remember. I was only four when he died, but….from what I remember, he was great,” his voice was softer now, his eyes showing he was in another place. 
You inched closer to him, “I'm really sorry, I'm sure that was hard for you and your mom.” 
“It wasn't easy. But she always said she wouldn't change anything. Never really understood that until recently.” His shoulder is touching yours, his long fingers inches away from your thighs. You were hyper aware of the closeness, unsure if moving away would be proper or offensive. 
“Something helped you have that revelation?” 
“Moreso someone.” 
It's impossible to not notice the way his stare lingers on you, how his smile is warm and those whisky eyes are shining bright as he sends a wink your way. It makes your heart flutter; no one has ever looked at you that way before. 
Nerves begin to overtake your brain, causing you to look away from his intense gaze. 
“Should we um, get back to the picnic?” You all but mumbled. There's no desire to leave him, but you don't want to get your hopes up. 
“Can I at least get your number before we do that?” Bradley asks, eagerly getting out his phone. 
Bradley Bradshaw hates accidents, except for the one that led him to this kitchen, to you. 
His forwardness is uncharted territory. There's no wondering or second guessing; Bradley wants to stay in touch, wants to keep talking to you. 
It's nice. It's unfamiliar. It's exciting. It's sending your doubts and anxiety into a tailspin. 
Your fingers fumble for your phone, opening up a new contact for him to fill out. His fingers brush against yours when he hands you his phone, little sparks flying up your spine. 
Bradley simply smiles when your eyes look at the screen of his phone. Your brows knit together in confusion, the bridge of your nose scrunching up as you read over the words again and again, eyes surely playing tricks on you. 
“Um, I think you made a mistake Bradley?” you hold up his phone, “The name for this  contact is Mrs. Bradshaw?” It also has a heart emoji next to it, but that wasn't worth mentioning. 
“Oh, it's no mistake,” Bradley grins. 
The only sound you can let out is a confused huh. 
“You just gotta put your number right there, and then you're all set.” Bradley points to it, an assured smile remaining on his face. 
“Are you….are you going to change the name?” You asked, dumbfounded. 
Bradley shrugs, “Nah. I'll know it's you. But I can put the word ‘future’ in parentheses if you want it to be more accurate.” 
Your fingers have a mind of their own, typing in those desired ten numbers. Bradley takes his phone from your hands but not before placing a gentle kiss on your burning cheek. 
His lips feel soft, the hairs of his mustache gently tickling your skin. When you turn your head, your lips are now inches away from yours. 
You try to ground yourself, try to look away from his lips, try to ignore the warm, fuzzy feeling that's overtaking your body. 
“Sorry Birdie, but I'm old fashioned. First kiss shouldn't be until the first date,” He winks. 
What floors you more, his confidence or his bold desire for you? 
Raising an eyebrow, you ask, “And when will that be?” 
Bradley chuckles, “Whenever you want Birdie.” 
He can't be serious. But what would he gain from leading you on, other than Penny’s wrath? 
You straighten your shoulders, trying to hold your own against his large frame.
“Tomorrow at six,” You muster up all the confidence you can, preparing yourself for him to drop the act. 
“Done. Do you prefer Italian or French?” 
“Neither as I'm lactose intolerant.” This was it. Was he going to stop the act, once he knew it would require more effort. 
“How do you feel about Thai? I know a great spot. Never been but it's been praised by Jake and Danica and let me tell you, that woman does not give out praise easily.” 
You giggled, “I could tell. By the way, is there a reason he calls her Venus?” 
“Short version; he's obsessed with her. Been that way since they met in the parking lot of a coffee shop. You should ask them how they met; they give different answers and it's hilarious,” Bradley explains, a gleam in his eyes as he thinks about one of his favorite couples. 
“I'd like that. But if you go with me,” you asked, “Kinda random to just walk up to a couple you don't know and ask how they met.” 
Again, you expect Bradley to falter. He's clearly more outgoing than you, so why would he want someone whose first instinct wasn't to strike up a conversation with strangers? 
“I will, but only if you confirm we’re on for Thai tomorrow at six.” 
Surely, he couldn't be serious. But that sweet smile and shining brown eyes said otherwise. 
“You really gonna take me out?” you crossed your arms over your chest. 
“Of course! I mean, I'm more than happy to take you out tonight, but you said tomorrow, so I'm sticking to it. Plus, it gives me time to get you flowers. Speaking of which, what are your favorite? You seem like a sunflower gal,” his eyes reminded you of an eager puppy, absolutely endearingly adorable. 
“What makes you think that?” He was absolutely right, but you wouldn't let him know that yet. 
Bradley shrugged, “When you smile, it reminds me of sunshine. Also, if it want to get technical, birds also like sunflower seeds.” 
You couldn't help but throw your head back and laugh. Your laugh was sweet, bursting with joy. It calmed down Bradley’s racing heartbeat. 
 “And what should I get you, Rooster? Corn meal?”
His corniness almost made you forget that he literally compared you to the sun. 
Almost. 
His laugh was deep, bellowing deep from his stomach, making you feel warm all over. 
“You kill me Mrs. Bradshaw, now let's go get you that story,” He gently takes your hand into his, entwining his fingers with yours. 
The nickname makes you less confused and more certain Bradley would be sticking around.
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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 8 months
Text
Bumping Beach Bikini - Rooster
Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw / Wife!Reader
Word Count: 0.8k
This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only
Warnings: Pregnancy; References to Sex/Suggestive Jokes; Flirting; Use of Second Person POV “You,” No Physical Description of Reader (Minus Pregnancy), No Y/N
Summary: Rooster admires the view of his pregnant wife on the beach.
Master List
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Bradley had a mental list of the best outfits that he had ever seen you in. There wasn’t a set ranking, just general levels of appreciation.
There was a step above your normal beauty and allure, which mostly included random casual outfits that for whatever reason just got him going. Like the yellow sundress that you wore when it was exceptionally hot out that was super easy to slide his hands under. Or those jean shorts that he loved to slip his hand into the back pocket and give your ass an appreciative squeeze. Or anything of his that you chose to wear.
And the step above those were your slightly dressier outfits that got him even more excited. The backless black dress that you wore out in Vegas when the two of you went out with the Dagger Squad. Or the blue floor length dress that you wore to Maverick and Penny’s wedding that looked like it was literally sculpted for you and your figure. Though he did rip the zipper on that one.
Then there were the more special outfits. Your wedding dress mostly, since he literally burst out into tears the second that he saw you step out in it. The photo of you that he kept in his cockpit was from your wedding day with your veil spread out around you, giving you a completely angelic appearance. And, well, Rooster was also very fond of the matching white lingerie set that you wore underneath it that night too. He did rip that one too though.
And at the very top of the pyramid of his favorite outfits was, of course, your birthday suit. Nothing would ever top that one.
But seeing you in a maternity bikini with one of his Hawaiian shirts wrapped around your shoulders and your baby bump sticking out from between the folds of his shirt—now that was a sight that he ingrained into his mind for the rest of his life. That one really challenged your birthday suit in his mind.
“What?” you laughed, shooting your husband a look as you applied more sunscreen. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You’re glowing,” Bradley praised, still taking in your beauty.
“With sweat,” you giggled, rubbing in another layer of sunscreen. “It’s only spring and I swear I’m melting already.” You set down the tube of sunscreen and shot your husband a playful look. “You just had to make sure that I was heavily pregnant during the hottest months of the year in Southern California, didn’t you, Bradshaw?”
“Maybe you should have done the math before you begged me to get you pregnant,” Bradley replied, a bit smugly.
“I don’t beg,” you scoffed, shooting him a look. “And besides you offered about fifty times before I let you. If anyone was begging, it was you, Bradley.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Rooster mused, smiling over at you.
There was one rule to surviving with a heavily pregnant wife—it was to let you win. On just about everything. Anything health or safety wise, he would argue back, but Rooster took a rain check on all of the little things. And frankly he got more satisfaction out of seeing you happy than being right.
“Do you have enough water?” Rooster asked, sitting up some more.
You reached over and lifted your giant water bottle into the air. Taking a long sip from it just to prove your point to your husband, you set your water bottle back down on the sand.
“I’m fine. Just need some time to relax,” you replied, leaning back in your seat. “Before it all really sets in.”
Reaching down to pick up your ankle, Rooster started to massage your foot, earning a sigh of relief from your lips. Practically melting into your chair, you turned to your husband with a small, thankful smile as you curled your toes a bit.
“I could get used to this.”
“I’m sure you could,” Rooster chuckled, rubbing the back of your calf.
“There’s only one thing that would make this better.”
“What?”
“Take your shirt off.”
“Mrs. Bradshaw,” Rooster jokingly admonished, causing you to smile wider. “Be careful suggesting that. I knocked up the last woman who asked me to take my shirt off in that tone.”
“I’ll take the risk,” you replied with a smile, rubbing your bump slowly.
“So long as you understand the risk,” Rooster returned with a wink.
“Jesus Christ, the rest of us are trying to eat here,” Phoenix cut in, sounding annoyed.
You and Rooster turned to the other Daggers, Maverick, and Penny, who was hiding an amused smile behind her hand. Maverick turned to Penny with a similar expression, shaking his head. But most of the other Daggers, those who were single anyways, shot both you and Rooster somewhat disgusted looks.
“Sorry,” you called sheepishly, waving to them.
“I’m not,” Rooster replied, reaching up to take his shirt off.
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