❥ ҉ synopsis : you and pope already had a interesting night, last night. you wake up and still want more but it’s a school day and with a house full of pogues inside ♡︎.
❥ ҉ pairings : pope x fem!reader
❥ ҉ word count : 1139
❥ ҉ warnings : SMUT, fingering, mentions of sex, language there’s really not a lot to warn abt.
❥ ҉ a/n : ❝hey babes welcome to the 10th day of my kinktober, i hope u enjoy <3333. ❞
*gifs not mine, all creds to original owner*
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while you were sleeping, pope had been up and wide awake for a good amount of time, ready for the day and ready to get up for school. you both really needed to get up and start getting ready but as pope continued to lay there looking at your slumped features, he just couldn’t bring himself to wake you. the way the sunrise lit up your complexion against the bright white sheets memorized him. pope then checked his phone to see the time, he cursed mentally as he looked at it; you both really need to get up.
pope moved a fallen curl away from your eye before dropping his hand to run down your naked, smooth figure delicately. the lower half of your body being barely covered by the huge blankets, you upper half out and displayed without a care in the world. pope wasn’t any different, due to the fact that pope had made love to you the night before. the boy grinned at the thought of the activities that had gone down last night, the taste of you still lingering on his lips.
pope brought his lips down to your neck, starting to place a bunch of sweet kisses on the skin of your neck. “baby, wake up,” he announced to you. you were a light sleeper so hearing his voice already startled you into opening your eyes and quickly whining and groaning. you groaned out a groggy “mhn, mhm” indicating that you didn’t want to in fact get up. ugh, it was the last thing you wanted to do. pope chuckled, “no you have to get up y/n, we have a geometry test we can’t miss”
“pope… i don’t want to..” you drawled out, a huge pout now on your lips as you started to now move around on the bed.
“i know baby, but in order to succeed in life you have to have an education, '' he teased, which even in your sleepy state you had softly pushed at his bare chest, making him giggle. you had whined once more. “after last night you should let me sleep in” you finally opened your eyes for the first time that morning, your orbs quickly finding pope’s bright brown ones. his handsome face staring right back at you with love and a now humongous smirk.
“i really did a number on you huh?”
you scoffed, “a number? i’m pretty sure i can't even walk properly and you want me to go to school?” pope grins at your words, leaning forward to place a short, sweet kiss upon your already puckered lips. even though you can pretend to not want to wake up all you want, you’ll always accept a kiss from pope; with wide, open arms.
when pope pulled away from you, your mind started to wander off to last night's events. the sight of the valley of his lower body being barely covered makes your head spin, just one little push of the blanket and you’ll see all of him in his glory. you then suddenly pulled him back towards yourself, your arms wrapping around his neck. your exposed breasts being squished and pressed right up against his own chest, your hardened nipples rubbing against his pecs with each movement you make.
“baby, what are you— doing” pope tried to speak in between each kiss you were giving him. your creamy, soft thighs making contact with his shaft, causing little groans to leave him as you continued to make out. pope could tell where you were trying to go with this and immediately started shaking his head. “y/n, no we can’t. with a important test for first period-“
“baby, please. i promise we can be so quick, please?” you pleaded with your convincing doe eyes on display. and in this case they win him over as always. pope checked the time and decided he could be quick enough to relieve you before he had to get the rest up since they can never get up by themselves every other morning. pope sighed out, nodding his head in agreement.
“okay but you have to be a really quiet baby, okay? i mean really quiet” he instructs you which you nod frantically in understanding, glad and happy that he agreed to make you cum and solve your morning problems.
pope’s soft hand then lifted up your supple thigh, bringing your leg up to wrap around his middle and making sure you were comfortable before landing his lips on yours while his digits began to make their way to your pussy. his fingers just running and swiping through your wet folds almost as if he’s massaging the sensitive flesh. it wasn’t giving you any pleasure yet, but it felt so nice and comforting, and that’s exactly what pope wanted before he started actually stimulating you.
pope’s fingers swiped against the lips of your pussy one last time before making direct contact with your clit with the pads of his finger tips. grinning against the nape of your neck when he felt you flinched and gasped at the direct touch he just inflicted on you.
“pope baby, i thought you said we have to be quick” you whine out when you feel him moving away from your now pulsating clit, teasing you. only whining out more when you hear him chuckle underneath his breath.
“hush up babe, i’m gonna give it to you. no need to whine”
pope kept his words because he did exactly that. he immediately started rubbing at your bud in firm circles and at a delicious pace that made you whimper as quietly as you could against his shoulder. the boy himself groaned when he felt another wave of your wetness leaving from your pleasure-seeking cunt on his fingers. his fingers momentarily move from your clit to collect your arousal and rub it into your pussy, making it even more slippery and wet than it already was before moving back to your clit. your wetness making his fingers move against you faster.
it wasn’t until you started to feel pope’s digits tracing along your hole before you heard a very loud knock at the bedroom door and a booming voice following, the sound immediately indicating it was jj behind the door.
“pope what the hell dude? how am i up before you and waking you up? the world is ending isn’t it?!”
Pairing- bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x female pilot!reader (callsign clutch) no use of y/n
AN- my first fanfic ever! and it's just filth (lol) so 18+ minors DNI. top gun has a hold on me y'all. haven't even opened a word doc since college but the entire film basically lives rent free in my head and I had to write some obscene rooster so I could get back to functioning like a normal person. Anyways *nervous sweating*
Warning- seriously 18+, not beta’d, swearing, pwp (dogfight football is just an excuse for foreplay they knew what they were doing with that damn scene), gratuitous comma usage / run on sentences for days, unprotected sex, choking, edging, orgasm denial, overstimulation, bradley bradshaw has a filthy effing mouth, dom!rooster, oral (f receiving), rank kink if you squint, bruises, praise kink, slight (is it slight?) degradation kink, rooster is a leg man fight me on this, mentioning hangman during sex (yes this is a warning because jake seresin is sinful), cumplay, the whole nine honestly I can't believe I'm posting this
Length- 3.3k ish words
You silently curse Maverick for introducing the team to dogfight football as everyone trudges down towards the beach. Now, instead of working on your tan or napping on the beach for your one and only day off, you're being forced into athletic competition masquerading as a fun beach game. You liked working out as much as the next pilot, but with one day off? You’d much rather spend it horizontal with your boyfriend than sprinting after him in the sand. Your gorgeous, half-naked boyfriend who's currently smoothing out his mustache in annoyance while he argues with Hangman about how they’ll split up the teams. You’re not sure who decided to make these two idiots team captains, but suspect it was born out of making sure they wouldn’t kill each other on the same team.
Rooster ends up choosing first, much to Hangman’s chagrin.
“Payback.”
“Wow,” you joke, your hand over your wounded heart for theatrics. “I see where your loyalties lie, babe.”
“Don’t be mad,” Rooster smiles into your hair before kissing your temple.
Pulling you into his side by the waist, he lightly skims his fingers across the part of your hipbone that always makes you shiver. The part that already has a bruise forming from his unrelenting grip this morning, while you were falling apart on his cock.
You glare up at him as if to say silently, don't change the subject, and he pointedly looks above your head to Seresin, pretending he’s not having flashbacks of your wanton moans.
“Hangman, go.”
The blonde flashes his signature smirk, stupid mischievous twinkle in his eyes, and reaches out to tug you from Rooster’s grasp, “Clutch, you’re with me.”
It’s surprising, of course. You weren’t actually mad at not being picked first, and definitely didn’t think Hangman of all people would be the one to do so.
“Bro,” Coyote grumbles. “No offense, Clutch, but what the fuck?"
Hangman shrugs in response, trying to maintain his poker face and not laugh out loud at the way Rooster’s jaw clenches. He knows having you on the opposite team is a huge distraction for mustache boy and well, he’d be remiss if he didn’t take advantage of Rooster’s ridiculous misty-eyed love for you, wouldn’t he?
Phoenix and Bob end up with Rooster too while Hangman manages to snag Coyote and Fanboy, punching Coyote in the shoulder for being so grumpy about not being picked first.
Not long into the game, Rooster has the ball, looking around for an open teammate and you see your opportunity.
As he knew there were no limits to your competitiveness no matter how much you complained about having to play, Hangman suggested you cover Rooster, so you’re already face to face with his very shirtless, very tanned body. You trail your hand across his abs, barely dipping your fingertips below his waistband. Subtle enough that no one else clocks what you’re up to, too consumed defending each other, but suggestive enough that Rooster’s attention snaps to you immediately.
“What’re you doing?” He asks, eyeing you suspiciously, hands still firmly planted around the ball that’s well out of your reach.
You flash the most innocent smile you can manage, “Sorry, babe, you just look so good. Couldn’t help myself.”
He beams down at you, completely disarmed and blushing a little despite his best efforts to maintain a healthy level of skepticism.
“Am I making it hard for my girl to concentrate?” He teases, arms faltering slightly.
“Something like that,” you grin, like the cat that got the cream, before taking advantage of his momentary lapse in judgment to snatch the ball out of his hands, swiftly turning and throwing it straight to Hangman by the makeshift endzone. He sprints through, throwing the ball to the ground in victory.
“And that,” Hangman shouts, practically banging his chest, “is why you’re never stupid enough to pick Clutch second, fellas!”
“Ruthless,” Rooster feigns hurt across his tanned features, fighting a smile at your cheesy finger guns. “Didn’t know we were playing dirty.”
“What, you think this is a fuckin’ game, Bradshaw?” You taunt.
“Oh, it’s on.”
You know you have to up the ante the next time around, without the element of surprise it’ll be harder to shake him.
You absentmindedly play with the bruise forming on your hipbone before the ball is anywhere near you and you can feel his eyes raking over the spot where your fingers touch. Fighting a smile, you adjust your workout shorts next, tugging them down the inside of your thighs where they’ve ridden up, fingers dancing a little close to your hot center for the public setting, but hey, hopefully no one’s paying attention. Besides, he’s always been a sucker for your legs, evident by how much time he spends between them. By the time he’s done staring and lifts his eyes to yours you’re smirking.
“Bradshaw, my eyes are up here.”
He doesn’t even bother looking ashamed, instead meeting your gaze with that filthy glint in his eyes. It takes everything in you to remain focused on the task at hand. You’re supposed to be sidetracking him, not the other way around.
You manage to sneak around him and catch the ball as Fanboy throws it your way, but you’re a little too far from the endzone to make a break for it without Rooster catching up to you. His dog tags are reflecting in the sunlight, resting against his hard chest and you smile, leaning in to grab them with your free hand.
Pulling him towards you by his chain so you can keep these words between the two of you, you adopt a comically casual tone, “I’ve always wondered what it’d be like if you choked me with these, babe, I mean your big hands are more than enough but—”
“Nope," Rooster cuts you off tersely as he picks you up and tosses you over his shoulder before marching in the direction of the parking lot.
You giggle, arching your back to toss the ball towards the group as best you can while still mostly upside down, and throw them a sloppy two finger salute, “See y’all later.”
“You guys are the worst!” Phoenix shouts after you and everyone yells in agreement.
He doesn't set you down until you're in the parking lot, immediately pulling you back against his front.
“You’re gonna pay for teasing me like that, princess,” he breathes in your ear, right hand sliding up your chest and to your neck as his left digs for his car keys.
“Oh no,” you drawl sarcastically, “That wasn’t what I was aiming for whatsoever.”
He can’t help but chuckle, even with his hand practically engulfing your throat you’re still playing him like a fiddle, teasing and pushing his buttons until he aches to put you in your place. He knows exactly what you’ve been playing at, but he still can’t help his primal response to it.
“Don’t worry, baby, I’m gonna wipe that bratty little smirk right off your pretty face.”
“I don’t know what you mean, Lieutenant Bradshaw,” you respond cheekily. “Was just admiring my gorgeous boyfriend all day. Always makes me smile, how beautiful he is.”
His fingers tighten almost unconsciously at his rank tumbling out of your delicate lips. And now it’s his turn to smirk, as he hears your breath hitch and feels you grind back onto his growing bulge. He unlocks the car and pulls the passenger side door open with his free hand, turning you around for a searing kiss before picking you up and setting you in his Bronco. He buckles you in, and you roll your eyes at the babying gesture, still in a fiery mood.
Shooting you a warning look for the eye rolling, Rooster gets in the other side and you begin running your hand up his arm, stopping to appreciate his bicep flexing as he turns the keys in the ignition. It’s almost innocent, really, but he sees right through you.
“No touching me or yourself until we get home.”
He bites back a laugh at your pout and settles his hand on your knee as he starts to drive. Which, you find out quickly, is much worse than not being touched at all, although you imagine that’s purposeful. He always knows how to wind you up while barely lifting a finger. You feel his hand burning on your leg, rubbing affectionate circles just south of where you want it. You shift in the passenger seat and the movement subtly urges his hand up your thigh, thinking he won’t notice as his eyes are decidedly fixed on the road.
As soon as he pulls up to a red light, he immediately removes his hand from your thigh to grab your jaw roughly and pull you into a kiss.
“You have to learn to be patient, baby. Keep trying to rush me and I won’t touch you at all,” he mutters against your lips. “Be a good girl for me.”
Your breathing shallows and you nod, both of you knowing as soon as that phrase comes out, you’re done for.
You’re crawling out of your skin by the time he pulls up to the house, mind on an endless loop of please touch me, kiss me, please do something, anything.
“I hope you remember your colors, because if I don’t hear the word red I’m not stopping,” he promises darkly, possessive hand around the back of your neck as he leads you into the house and to the bedroom.
He all but throws you on the bed, making quick work of your clothes. Stepping back and taking his time with his own while he admires you, naked and squirming for him. He watches patiently as your thighs press together, hands fisting in the comforter.
What feels like eons later, he settles on the bed, pushing your legs apart to fit his wide frame between them. Peppering kisses up the inside of your thighs, he refuses to put his mouth where you really want it.
You whimper in frustration and Rooster snickers at your exasperation before licking a stripe up your dripping wet slit. The sound that comes out of your mouth is positively filthy, doubling in volume when he slips one of those thick fingers in without warning.
“Fuck, baby,” It’s his turn to groan now. “You’re so wet. Surprised you didn’t soak through those tiny little things you call shorts.”
“Thought I was going to, been ready for you all day,” you grit out.
As much as you love his mouth on you, it’s not what you need right now as your cunt is aching to be filled. You untangle your fingers from the comforter to pull him up by the shoulders and attach your lips to his. Reaching down to palm his hard cock, you run your thumb across the slit that’s leaking with precum. He drops his head to your shoulder, panting as his control wavers.
“Need you in me,” you beg between kisses. “Please.”
You immediately wish you hadn’t said anything when raises his head to look at you, pupils blown but with newfound resolve and a smug grin on his lips.
“Greedy,” he teases, taking your hands from his cock and lifting your arms above your head.
He easily pins both wrists down with one hand, while the other traces down your body, taking his time palming your tits one by one, touching your hipbones with surprising gentleness, before settling between your legs once more. His fingers slide through your wet folds, pad of his thumb circling your clit and your head falls back against the pillows, body arching at the feeling.
He’s building you up, exactly how he knows you like, your inner walls already beginning to shake with anticipation, clenching around nothing as you get closer to the edge.
And then suddenly, he pulls his fingers away and you want to cry with how quickly you feel your climax disappearing into thin air.
“You’d let me do anything I wanted to you right now, wouldn’t you baby girl? You’d do anything to get my cock in that needy pussy.”
“Yes sir,” you whine submissively, even surprising yourself at how desperate you sound.
“No more Bradshaw and babe now, huh,” he mocks your cheeky tone from earlier. “Told you I’d fuck that bratty attitude right out of you.”
You wish you had the wherewithal to come up with a witty response about how he hasn’t even fucked you yet and could he get to it already, you really do. But before you can formulate half a thought, he’s finally pushing his thick member into you and no matter how many times the two of you do this you always, always forget how much he stretches you. How each time you wonder if he’s going to fit.
The only indication he gives that he’s as affected by this as you are is that there’s no time to adjust to his size before he’s thrusting, hard and fast and rough. It’s right on the line between pleasure and pain.
The moment he swipes the pad of his thumb over your bundle of nerves again you’re close, embarrassingly close. You feel your body tensing, winding tighter and tighter.
“Please, I’m so close, please let me come.”
You’re pushing hard against the grip he has on your wrists, to no avail.
He smiles against your skin, nipping at your neck before bringing his mouth to your ear.
“No.”
Tears immediately spring to your eyes as he pulls away the hand that was on your clit, slowing his pace to an unbearable speed and you feel your peak slipping farther and farther away.
“Please, Roos—" you start, trying to pull him closer with your legs.
“You know my name, princess,” he growls, pulling back.
“Bradley,” you moan, the hard edges in his words sending another wave of heat through you. “Sir—plea—I need—harder, faster. Ohmy god, please.”
You’re barely coherent and the evil part of him wants to push further, to see how long he can keep you like this, if he can make you lose your words completely.
He completely ignores your pleas, releasing your wrists so he can run both his hands down your body, stopping again to rub circles around the bruises on your hipbones.
“You think they’d believe me? If I told everyone how needy you are for me?”
You don’t answer, can’t answer because all you can think is please, harder, more. Instead, you’re gripping his biceps for dear life, mind still reeling from how infuriatingly slow he’s fucking into you.
“The team would never expect strong, hard-headed Clutch could act like this. Putty in my hands, whining and begging for me like a depraved slut.”
A loud moan leaves your mouth at that and he rewards you by picking up the pace, putting his weight behind his thrusts again. You’re staring up at him with glazed eyes, mouth parted and breathy mewls coming out in a constant stream as he continues.
“Seresin definitely wouldn’t. Can you imagine if I told him how pretty you look fucked out and dumb for my cock? He’d probably think I was lying, thinks you dominate the hell outta me. If only he knew the truth.”
You clench around him involuntarily and he smirks when he sees the blush rising on your cheeks.
“God, I do love having you all to myself, but it seems selfish not to share someone as perfect as you, darlin’.”
You tuck your face in his neck, unable to meet those playful dark eyes. He pulls out and flips you over, pulling your ass into the air and sliding back into you in one smooth motion.
He’s hitting that spot deep inside you, and you shove your face into the pillows to muffle your moans. You feel fingers tangle in your hair, tugging and arching your back as he pulls you up towards his chest, pace unrelenting. Bradley slides that big hand up around to your neck again, finally getting to pound you from behind like he wanted to outside of his Bronco. That seems like days ago, now. His other hand is circling your clit, quickly bringing you right to the brink once more.
“Come for me, baby, come all over my cock like the little slut you are.”
You feel like a rubber band, pushed to its limits and snapped. White-hot pleasure courses through you, finally releasing all the tension in your body.
“Fuck, you’re such a good girl for me,” Bradley’s breath is hot in your ear. You barely register his praise, still shaking. “Wanna come inside your tight pussy and fill you up.”
You can’t help the obscene noises spilling out of your mouth, even louder than before as he continues to fuck you, relentless, while you try to come down from your high. It’s overwhelming, his thick length pounding your trembling, slick walls. His grip impossibly tight on your hip as he empties in you. The warmth is spreading inside, your walls spasming weakly at the feeling of fullness. He keeps his hands on you as he softens, fingers starting their dance in maddening circles on your overstimulated bundle of nerves.
“S’too much,” you slur, head falling back on his shoulder.
If you weren’t in such a daze you might be impressed on how he’s managed to make it his mission to continue ruining you only moments after his own climax. He’s completely supporting your weight, any sense of self-preservation having left you long ago.
He shifts, pulling out and you try not to whine too loudly at the empty feeling. You momentarily think he’s done with his torture, but then he lays you down on your back and puts his lips right to your center, fingers pushing his cum back inside you as it tries to drip out.
“No,” he lifts his head to say again, and you hate how that always sends a wave of heat right to your core. “You begged and begged to come. I’m just giving you what you wanted baby."
“Dunno,” you shudder, “if I can take anym—Bradley pleas—”
“You can.”
There’s no room for disagreement in his tone.
“You’ve been such a good girl. I know you can come again. Just one more and I’ll give you a break.”
He’s making lazy circles with his tongue, his pace the only indication there exists a fiber of mercy in his being.
Your skin feels tight as his praise washes over you. He’s fucking you with his fingers now, curling them while slowly increasing his onslaught on every nerve in your body through his touch to your core. You can’t help but grab his wrist, trying to pull him away from you as he blurs the line between pleasure and pain. You’re shaking uncontrollably and shouting his name, as you come again, sure you’re going to black out.
“Shh, baby, I got you,” he whispers as you clench around his fingers. He’s kissing your jaw, lips, forehead.
He gently pulls his hand away and wraps his arms around you, holding you through the aftershocks.
“You’re perfect, baby. Did so well for me.”
You smile up at him a few minutes later as he gently puts a water bottle to your lips. Ever the gentleman, you think, even after he’s absolutely wrecked you.
“We have to wash the sheets and comforter,” Rooster complains jokingly, when he’s pretty sure your mind is mostly functioning again. “There’s sand everywhere.”
“Yeah, you should get right on that, Lieutenant,” you mumble, planting your face in his chest.
He reaches out to tickle your sides lightly, “Maybe this Lieutenant will order you to do it for him.”
“It’s so cute you think you’re in charge,” you yawn, rolling over and settling in, clearly not making a move to get up.
Rooster rolls his eyes, forcing himself not to take the bait this time, instead pulling you tighter.
Trigger Warnings: Nothing I can think of, just fluff <3
A/N: I’m currently writing another insanely long fic but it’s taking me forever and a half. Perhaps posting a shorter one first will give me the push I need. We’ll see. Enjoy some Rooster content where he gets in touch with his feminine side (as we all know, he drinks The Feminist Elixir™️). Also my friend and I were discussing the fact that Rooster is a gossip man. You got work drama? Someone talking smack about someone’s ex’s girlfriend’s cousin’s daughter’s husband? He’s INVESTED, he’s pulling out the popcorn. We don't make the rules but also yes we do.
(P.S. This is the first little fic I've written since my 2013 Wattpad days, please be gentle lmfao)
Summary: Penny asks you to watch Amelia (your goddaughter) for the night and Rooster tags along :)
After getting off work, you decide to head down to the Hard Deck as per your usual Friday evening routine. It had been a long, exhausting day even if it was only 6pm, but you always had time and energy for Fridays at the Hard Deck. Everybody you loved was always there…Maverick, Penny, Phoenix, Coyote, Fanboy, Bob, Hangman (yes, even Hangman), but mainly Rooster—your lovely, warm, incredibly funny and cheeky charming boyfriend. At the end of your longest, saddest, most frustrating days, he always knew exactly how to cheer you up or at least take the edge off. Even just having him in the same vicinity was comforting…like an emotional heat lamp or weighted blanket for the soul. And his hugs…oh, lord, his hugs. Warm, safe, always a bit tight but never too much; at your most broken, it felt like he could just hug you back together. Every time you reunited at the end of the day, he would greet you with one of these hugs, a sweet kiss to some part of the face, and a cheeky “hi beautiful”, and it never waned, even after the several years you had been together. Tonight at the Hard Deck was no exception.
When you walked in the door, you were greeted with the familiar smell of mixed perfumes and colognes, the faint smell of alcohol, beach wood, and salty air. You scanned the crowd for familiar faces, ultimately landing on Penny behind the bar. You approached, trying to get her attention over the noise.
“Busy night?” You shout. She turns around, giving you a warm smile, while somehow juggling too many glasses and bottles of beer in her arms.
“You could say that,” she laughs, attempting to set them down and disperse them to the people crowding the counter. As they all took their drinks, some disappeared elsewhere in the room. “You know how Friday nights are.”
Indeed, I do.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Penny says, turning to you with an inquisitive yet guilty look on her face. “And you can 100% say no if you want to.”
“What is it? Is everything okay?” You ask, concerned.
“Yeah, yeah…it’s just-” She trails off, now fidgeting with random objects behind the counter “Pete and I…we-...well, we haven’t been able to get much alone time since the mission happened and I was wondering if you could hangout with Amelia tonight while we have some time for ourselves. I know it’s last minute but-”
“Say no more,” You interrupt, laughing “she’s my goddaughter, I would love to.”
“Are you sure? This won’t interrupt any plans you have with Bradley?”
“I think the plan for tonight was just to hangout here,” you smile, grabbing a beer from behind the counter. “It’s all good, really. You two deserve some alone time.”
“You are an angel, truly,” she smiles. “Amelia is at the house–probably with her head in some book–so just head over whenever you like. I should be back by tomorrow morning.”
“Sounds good, I’ll leave in a bit.”
“Leaving me so soon?” a raspy voice says behind you. You suddenly feel those all-too-familiar arms wrap around you, and you can’t help but smile. You feel a soft kiss on your neck and a slight tickle from that damn 80’s stache. You turn your head toward Rooster to see him looking down into your eyes, smiling softly as he places a gentle kiss to your lips. “Hi beautiful.” he whispers. There it was.
“Hey stranger.”
“What evil are you two scheming?” He chuckles, motioning towards you and Penny.
“World domination,” you say “but only after I’m done watching Amelia for the night.”
“Hmm…sounds fun. Am I invited?”
“I was thinking it could be more of a….” you trail off, looking at Penny, and she smiles. “girl’s night. Just me and Amelia, ya know—watch chick flicks, do facemasks, paint nails, gossip…the whole nine yards.”
Rooster steps aside slightly, one arm still around your waist as he raises his other hand to his chest dramatically. He gasps, fake-offended: “I can do a girl’s night. I can be one of the girls, I’ll blend right in. Besides, I was looking forward to spending time with you tonight, whatever form that takes.”
You smile up at him as he takes one of your hands and raises it to his lips, placing multiple soft kisses to the top and fingertips, ultimately flattening it against the side of his cheek to cup his face. You sigh, stroking his cheek softly with your thumb as his eyes searched yours for an answer. Ugh, how could you say no?
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
A few hours passed and you found yourself sitting on the floor of Penny’s living room with Rooster and Amelia, the three of you having demolished a giant pizza from her favorite restaurant. You admittedly didn’t get to spend as much time with your goddaughter as you would’ve liked, with you working and Amelia going to school–any chance you could get to spoil her, whether it be with her favorite pizza, riding bikes along the beach and getting ice cream, or just hanging out like you were—you were going to take it. She was like your little sister, and you were not only grateful that Penny had chosen you to be her godmother, but also that Rooster was so encouraging and enthusiastic about your role in her life. He had happily come to take on a cool uncle sort of role, offering as much time and support to you both as he could. You could not ask for a better partner, or a cooler goddaughter for that matter.
You throw the last of your crust into the nearly empty pizza box, sighing contently as you lean against Rooster’s shoulder, the both of you resting against the front of the couch. You reentered the conversation in front of you, a dramatic retelling of an adorably adolescent outburst towards Amelia at school.
“Wait, wait, wait. Back up,” Rooster exclaims, still chewing on the crust of his last slice, “she said what about your science fair project?”
“You heard me,” Amelia states, sassily. “The absolute nerve. I saw her trip when we were running the mile but did I say anything? No.”
“Kids these days,” he laughs as he looks over at you, “they’re a different breed.”
“Hey, as I recall via Maverick you have some pretty interesting stories as well. It sounds like you were quite the troublemak-”
“I was a saint, thank you very much,” Rooster laughs. “Don’t tarnish my reputation.”
You playfully swat at his chest, only for him to catch your wrist and place a quick kiss to your forearm. He holds it across his chest, rubbing it gently with his thumb.
“Eeeeughh, you guys are nauseating.” Amelia states, pretending to gag. Rooster lets out a wonderfully deep laugh as he finishes his last bite, dusting off crumbs from his fingers. He sits back groaning, putting one arm around you, the other on his belly.
“I’ve never been so full in my life,” he exhales, patting his stomach softly “I might go into a coma.”
You and Amelia both chuckle at this, until suddenly you get an idea. You look at Amelia and wink, facing her but glancing your eyes towards the man beside you. “So,” you begin, “I was thinking we could do…makeovers or something like that, I’ve been meaning to try my hand at this cool eyeliner trick I saw online.”
Amelia, picking up the hint, smiles at you mischievously, both of you now turning to look directly at Rooster. “I was thinking the exact. same. thing.”
He looks a bit confused for a second, eyes darting between you and Amelia, a nervously amused smile forming on his face. He llet his head drop down, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
“Yeah,” he sighed. “I should’ve seen that coming.”
This was going to be a fun night.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Endless gossip, two buckets of popcorn,and 6 episodes of Gilmore Girls later, Amelia fell peacefully asleep on her bed. You were now sitting on her bedroom floor in-between Rooster’s legs with your back against his chest, his back against the foot of the bed. He had one hand resting on your bent knee, the other laying somewhat limp in your hands as you directed your attention to painting the nails on his left hand. He watched you silently for a moment, smiling to himself at how cute you looked when you made your focus-face, your tongue sticking slightly out and eyebrows knitted together in concentration.
“Hmmm…you’re so beautiful.” he hums against you, nuzzling his face against your back, occasionally giving you feather-light kisses through the fabric of your shirt. Feeling his hot breath on your back, you got the shivers down your spine and Rooster chuckles, pressing his chest against you further in an effort to aid your chills. He eventually sits up slightly to get a better look at the electric blue artistry you were now slathering on his nails. “...and I supposed you’re not half bad at this.”
You snort, awkwardly. “Thanks, love. I do my best.”
A silent moment goes by before you remember the events that transpired earlier in the evening. “Speaking of beautiful…,” you say as you turn around carefully in his lap. You bent your legs to place them on either side of his hips, almost sitting cross-legged and chest-to-chest against him. You took his face in your hands to turn it straight toward you, “..c’mere good lookin.”
You grabbed the micellar water and package of cotton rounds on the ground next to you that Amelia had used to take off her own makeup after Rooster did his best smokey eye on the poor girl. You had to admit it was sweet; he tried so hard and he even had a reference photo from Pinterest that he kept looking at, insistent on doing it right. The end result was similar to that of a sparkly raccoon, but you both reassured him that it wasn’t bad for someone who spent his days about as far away from all things cosmetic—literally, thousands of feet in the sky, away from the Earth and the nearest Ulta. Amelia returned the favor by donning him with Marilyn Monroe-esque eyeliner and a matching beauty mark, painting his lips bright red as best she could with his mustache. When he saw his reflection in Amelia’s handheld mirror, he folded over laughing.
“Ya know,” he got out between laughs. “I’m more of an Audrey Hepburn man myself, but I think Marilyn suits me.”
“Oh, great. Next time we can put you in a tutu. Maybe a little black dress?” You laugh.
You poured a little bit of the water onto a cotton round, and set the bottle aside. You begin to gently sweep the round across his eyes and lips, doing your best to get off what you could of the impressively stubborn eyeliner and lipstick. Itt was fun to see him with makeup on as it was never something he wore, and you had to admit you enjoyed this for more than one reason. Yes, it was fun to see him with it on, and to see him bond with Amelia, but this was good for you for an entirely different reason. Getting to sit so close to him, paying special attention to his devastatingly beautiful face–getting to admire his wonderfully long eyelashes, his cute nose, the semi-raised scars decorating his jaw and neck…there wasn’t a detail about this man that didn’t have you absolutely whipped.
After a while, you finally manage to get it all off, turning slightly to set down the supplies. When you turn back you find Rooster staring at you contently. There was no mischief, no cheekiness. He looked serious, blinking slowly–his gaze was intense, full of nothing but deep love and admiration. He softly smiles and reaches up to gently tuck a few loose hairs behind your ear with the very tips of his fingers. You once again get the chills, except this time it radiated through you like an electric shockwave. Lord have mercy.
“How’d I get so lucky…” he whispers, so quietly you almost don’t catch it. It was moments like these that made your heart ache in the best possible way…when it was just you and him, the quiet. Nothing to do but comfortably sit in each other’s presence, admiring. You would be lying if you denied that after all these years, this man didn’t give you butterflies.
“No..” you quietly chuckle, shaking your head slightly. “I’m the one who’s lucky.”
Rooster smiles at this warmly, putting his arms around your waist and pulling you close into one of those irreplaceable, ultra-comfortable, soul-soothing hugs–his hand gently pushing on the back of your head to get you to rest on his shoulder. He began to rock just barely side-to-side…you’re not sure how long you had sat there, but you began to feel him lazily trace patterns all over your back and…
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
You don’t ever remember falling asleep, but you are awoken by a soft murmuring somewhere behind you. When you finally open your eyes and turn your head, you see Penny sitting at the edge of Amelia’s bed, softly stroking her hair. You hear her whisper to Amelia but you can’t quite make out what she says. Hope she had a good time.
You turn even further to see Rooster sleeping peacefully behind you, his arm draped lazily over your waist. You smile at his darling face, peaceful as he rests—surprisingly well—on the shag carpet of Amelia’s bedroom floor. You couldn’t help but bring your hand up to run your fingertips through his hair, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek and eyelids. After a moment his eyelashes flutter slightly, and his eyes open–confused for a moment before finally focusing on your. He brings a hand up, groggily rubbing the sleep from his face the best he could. What a sight for sore eyes. He smiles at you and leans up, propping himself on one elbow, the other hand caressing the back of your head to pull you slightly forward. Usually a morning kiss would consist of something quick as you both are rushing to get to work,, but not this morning. He kisses you dizzingly slow and deeper than usual for his morning display of affection–had you been in the comfort of your own home, it would not be just a kiss but you store that in the mental bank for later.
He barely pulls away, resting his forehead against yours “good morning gorgeous” he says with a smile.
“Mornin, stud.” you quip back. He chuckles, letting out a throaty laugh before quickly kissing you on the forehead, his hand still caressing the back of your head. Suddenly, you’re interrupted by Penny.
“Hey, lovebirds,” Penny laughs quietly “thanks for hanging out with her, I know she had a lot of fun.”
“So did we,” you and Rooster say at the same time.
“Let’s get up and I’ll buy us all breakfast, my treat.” Penny encourages. You both stand up wobbling, leaning on each other for as much support as you could give–the reality of sleeping on the floor now becoming painfully obvious. You hobble into the kitchen, gathering your things, and you notice Rooster is a little far behind you, visibly uncomfortable as he tried to stretch out his back to relieve some of the tension.
“I’m sorry if that was uncomfortable,” you said, running your hand down his back in an effort to soothe some of the pain. “We should’ve slept on the couch or something.”
”No apology needed,” he said insistently, looking at you like you had lost your mind. He kisses your cheek before continuing. “I said I wanted to spend time with you however I could, right? The sore back is totally worth it. Besides, there’s been plenty of times I’ve left you a bit sor-”
“Hey now,” you interrupt, putting your hand over his mouth “none of that til we’re out of Penny’s house.”
Penny looks at you guys, and shakes her head laughing. “You two crack me up.”
You both chuckle at her response, knowing damn well she’s aware of your activities as a couple. After all, she had quite literally asked you to babysit so she could have some alone time with a certain someone. Rooster returns his attention to you, grabbing your hand, a cheeky grin plastering his face.
“Am I one of the girls now? Did I pass the test?”
“Mmm….,” you hum, looking up as you pretend to think about it. “you did alright. I’ll keep you around anyhow.”
“Perfect,” he laughs, resting his head on top of yours. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
warnings: top gun maverick spoilers, very minor blood/injury mentions and the *possibility* of death
a/n: top gun might be on the fandom list soon
not requested
He had assured you before he left that everything would be fine, that he was picked for this mission because he was the best of the best, but those were just words to you. You spent your entire time apart from him riddled with anxiety, wondering if your husband would ever return to your side. Horrified of the possibility that you’d get the news that he hadn’t made it back and, in an instant, completely crumble.
And then you heard a car pull into your driveway, which made your heart both flutter and sink at the same time as you rushed to the window and pulled back the blinds. But there stood Bradley with a bouquet of flowers in hand, just about to head to the door. Too bad you beat him to it, running outside through your front yard. He couldn’t even get a word in before you crashed into him, but he made sure to squeeze you tight after all he just put you through. “I missed you.” He whispered into your hair, but you stayed silent, still on the verge of tears. You finally pulled away and looked at him after a few deep breaths.
“What’s this?” Your thumb traced one of the cuts on his neck, already worrying again when he was right there in front of you. Bradley slowly presented you the flowers to distract you from his minor injuries, trying to avoid sharing his near-death experiences and just be grateful he was there with you. “Bradley…”
“It’s nothing. I swear.” He said just before taking your chin between his index and thumb and giving you a kiss he’d been dying to give you since he’d been gone. “Let’s go inside, okay?”
Would you write a Bradley Rooster Bradshaw request where he acts overdramatic when his wife gets a papercut because he recently came back from a mission and just wants all her attention/affection?
Author’s Note: I hope I did this ask justice! I had this scene in my head when I read this, so that’s what I wrote because I cannot stop thinking about a pouty Rooster.
Word Count: 1.0k
After not seeing Bradley for months, sitting in his arms while lying in the shared bed was a rewarding feeling. Laying on his chest as he rests against the headboard so he can show you pictures of his friends and adventures brings a smile to your face because while the mission was a scary and worrying experience for the both of you, there were bonds that were either solidified or created during the affair. While he glosses over a picture of him and Pete sharing a hug, you grab it just in time.
“Awe, uncle and nephew bonding time! Roos, this is such a nice picture.” You comment while your index finger runs over his form. A soft smile finds its way to his face as he watches you admire the simple gesture, so he lets you hold the picture for a little longer.
“Yeah, well, when both are faced with the fact that you could indeed die at any moment and risk your lives for each other, the relationship tends to strengthen.” He tries to joke, but you frown. You know he didn’t die, that’s obvious as you feel his chest fall up and down with each breath, but the thought of him being that close to death bothers you. Suddenly, Bradley doesn’t want you looking at the picture anymore. Without a word, he grabs it quickly from your hand.
“Ow! Fuck me.” You cradle your finger in your hand as blood starts to seep through the cut, but Bradley just chuckles, causing your body on top of him to shake.
“Honey, it’s only been a few hours. I think we need a break.” His remark would normally have you hitting his chest with a laugh, but the cut stings worse than any you have had before. Getting up to go to the bathroom to clean it has Bradley angrily sitting in the bed missing your warmth. He stares with furrowed brows at the wall like a pouting child, waiting for you to come back. After a few minutes of nothing, he gets up and walks to the bathroom to find you searching through the cabinets.
“Are you coming back?” He asks as you take out the container of Neosporin. You sigh, trying to open the tube with one hand.
“I will in a minute, Bradley.” Normally, he would walk away and let you do your thing, but the tone mixed with the use of his first name (and having not seen you in months faced with the threat of death) has him taking the tube from your hand roughly.
“It’s Roos to you, little lady. Bradley makes me feel like you’re mad at me.” He looks down at your cut and carefully applies the cream. You look at him closely, and it sinks in. The longing you’ve felt as he’s been away for so long. Slowly, you kiss his cheek, letting your lips stay there for a moment. You can feel Rooster stop rubbing in the Neosporin.
“I could never get mad at you, Roos.” You whisper out. Blood rushes towards his cheeks, and you can see him trying to push away a smile.
“Except for that one time when you were sick and told me to do laundry just to find out that I left a red sock in with your white work shirts.” He recalls, reaching into the medical bag to pull out a band-aid.
“Don’t remind me.” The small grumble you let out at the memory has him cheekily laughing because, as he’s mentioned before, you’re cute when you try to be angry at him. As he finishes the last wrap of the band-aid, he leaves a kiss on it.
“Now you’ll heal in no time because of my magic powers.”
“Magic powers? Brad, one time when I came to pick you up, you kissed me so hard, I had a bruise on my cheek.” You two stare at each other for a moment. You’re on the closed toilet lid, slouching slightly, and he is crouched in front of you, one knee on the ground.
“It went away within the week!” He tries to reason, but you shake your head dismissively with a smile.
“Bradley–” You start, but he picks you up suddenly, causing you to scream. You beat on his back while telling him to let you down, but he just lifts a hand to land a smack on your ass.
“I haven’t seen you in months, woman, and you want me to sit in a bathroom floor with you? It’s time to go back to bed.” He throws you on the bed while finishing his sentence, and he lets himself fall on top of you.
“Bradley, get off of me.”
“No, you get the whole package, Darling, and I want to be as close to you as possible.” He wraps his arm around your frame while leaving soft kisses on your neck.
“Can I send the package back to Maverick?” You ask with the best fake-serious tone you can pull off. He just moves your hair out of the way and puts on a fake thinking face.
“I don’t think he’d want what I’m trying to give you.” He kisses your nose, so your scrunch up your face.
“You’re disgusting, Rooster.” You push his face away in an attempt to sit fully on the bed instead of having your legs hang off, but Rooster pushes you back down halfway.
rooster can’t help being so attractive and you can’t help but to admire him.
bradley bradshaw was a sight for sore eyes. and most of the time, even before you started dating, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. it didn’t matter if he was cooking, working out, sleeping, or just simply talking- he was captivating like that. and he knew it.
whenever bradley walked into a room, he had your full attention. it was annoying really, how much he had you wrapped around his finger. people would point out his tan skin, or his whiskey colored eyes, or his smile, or his too tight wife beater that left little to the imagination. the physicality that was rooster bradshaw was enough to grab anyone’s attention, but for you it was his presence. knowing that roos was right there with you brought you peace you thought you would never have because of your association with the military.
however, his physical features did play a big part.
like right now.
you’re sitting in penny’s semi-crowded bar with pheonix as she gives you the inside scoop on this weeks edition of navy aviator gossip. you’re supposed to be listening because, truly, you love good drama. however, your pilot boyfriend looks too damn good. he’s at a table with fanboy and coyote, a beer of his own in his hand. he’s wearing one of his dad’s old tee shirts in that dark blue color that seemingly accentuates his tan. his aviators hang loosely on his wife beater, hair perfectly imperfect.
“y/n, you live with that man,” phoenix says in playful disgust. at the same time, your boyfriend sends you a sly smirk holding your gaze as he takes a drink of his beer. damn him. “you could be less obvious in how obsessed you are.”
you shoot the brunette a glare. “i’m not obsessed.”
she scoffs at that. “okay, you’re just overly committed to watching your boyfriend exist.”
you shake your head in disbelief looking over to see that rooster is no where to be found. maybe you are obsessed? “you’re unbelievable, phoenix.”
she smiles. “unbelievably making my exit.”
you furrow your eyebrows in confusion until a familiar pair of hands find your waist.
“ladies,” rooster greets.
“lieutenant bradshaw,” phoenix salutes. “needing a little aloe vera, now are we?” she gestures to the top of his chest, noticeably red.
rooster flips her off, one of which she returns happily before heading over to grab another drink. he spares no time stealing her seat and your attention.
“someone’s being not-so-subtle tonight,” he says tugging your stool between his legs.
you can’t help the embarrassed heat that crawls up your neck and makes your breath hitch. “stop being so damn fine.”
“you and i both know that is an impossible request.”
you groan in annoyance. “i know. i know. it’s just people keep saying i’m obsessed-“
“you are.”
“no, i’m not,” you argue. “i just- i just like admiring you.”
rooster chuckles, leaning over to kiss your pouted lips. “no one said it’s a bad thing, baby. i like having your eyes on me. and you wanna know what like more than that?”
you sigh, gaze on your intertwined fingers. “what?”
“having my eyes on you.”
you scoff, shoving the whiskey-eyed man away gently. “you’re such a flirt.”
“yeah, for you,” rooster teases, “i like getting you all flustered and bothered.”
you roll your eyes for seemingly the thousandth time in an hour. “i hate you.”
“you’re a terrible liar,” he replies standing to his feet. he moves between your legs, hands cupping either side of your jaw to tilt your head back to look at him. your hands instinctively find his waist, fingers gripping loosely at his shirt.
“i know,” you say under your breath. you take a moment to really look at him. his skin is glowing in the yellow bar light and he’s adorning that soft, goofy smile with a childlike glint in his eyes. his lips are a little chapped because he never wears the chapstick you buy him, but you know they’re still soft regardless. “you look really good right now, roos.”
he hums, thumb running along your jawline. “oh yeah?”
you nod tugging him closer. “you gonna stand here and keep teasing me or are you gonna kiss me?”
he shrugs weighing his options. “i don’t know…teasing you happens to be my favorite pastime.” he laughs when you respond with an impatient huff. “i’m kidding. kissing you is definitely my favorite pastime.”
“then prove it.”
so he does. he’s aware of his surroundings and the fact that his fleet is going to be making fun of him the next morning, but that doesn’t stop him from taking your breath away. he kisses you deeply, lips settling your impatience. when he pulls away, you kiss him once more. twice. three times.
and then he says, “just so you know, you make me all flustered and bothered too.”
Summary: Bradley doesn't realize that fireworks can't be enjoyable for him after his latest mission.
This is a short indulgent fic based on my experiences and a nod to solider PTSD that gets triggered on the fourth of july
Word Count: 658
TW: Panic Attacks, Triggered, Fireworks, Mention of Death
Bradley was insistent on dragging Y/N out to the Hard Deck for their Fourth of July celebration; not that she protested. She was dressed in a baby blue cropped tank top and jean shorts, one of Rooster’s patriotic hawaiian shirts overtop; Bradley wearing an identical one over his white tangtop. He had insisted on matching, wanting to show off his wife during the festivities that would happen outside the bar.
Y/N’s father was also an airmen, having passed during her childhood; so American Military holidays have always been big in her household. And having that back with a Navy husband was pure bliss. They’d had a couple drinks before sitting around a bonfire with Rooster’s friends, telling embarrassing stories and passing the time before the firework show.
“Hey baby, I’m gonna go get another beer, do you want anything?” Rooster asked her gently, standing off of their shared bench.
“I’m okay, be quick, it's starting soon.” Y/N pecked his lips and turned back towards the conversation that the aviators were having. Bradley was just returning when she heard the first small flare firework set off. She grinned and everyone turned their camping chairs and loungers to watch. After about 30 seconds she frowned, looking around for her husband; not wanting him to miss the celebration.
She saw him about ten steps from the patio of the bar, staring straight forward; frozen. Y/N quickly got up and rushed over to him, quietly grabbing his hand; standing directly Infront of him.
“Bradley? Hey, baby, look at me!” She said softly, yet urgently; searching his face. He shakily looked down and she noticed how his breathing had quickened; and his heart rate accelerated.
“Hey, shh, c’mon let's go inside.” He let her lead him, stumbling slightly; having trouble breathing. She took him inside the bar; that was only open inside for bathrooms- all the drinks being served on the patio.
She sat him down on the floor, sitting directly beside him. “Bradley can you breathe for me okay? Gently, in and out.” She cupped her hands on his cheeks; searching his face again. He nodded slowly, starting to copy her exaggerated deep breaths. He clung to her arms, shaking as he did. She straddled into his lap; gently covering his ears and continuing breathing for him to copy.
“You're okay Brad, were at the hard deck, having a drink with Hangman and Phoenix, and Mav-” She pet his hair gently. “You're safe, I'm safe, everyone’s safe. He had slightly calmed down, still shaking and clinging to Y/N.
“O-okay.” he whispered, and his head gently fell between her neck and shoulder. She frowned, rubbing his back.
“I love you, okay?” He nodded and she felt hot tears on the shoulder.
“You're okay, baby.” She repeated, rocking him slightly. “I'm so sorry.” She scratched the hair on the back of his head gently. Y/N felt awful, she hated that he felt like this; that he couldn't be excited about his favorite things anymore. “It'll be okay.”
Bradley eventually lifted his head when the loud sounds of the firework's ended, everyone outside clapping. He kissed her gently, cupping her face. When they pulled away Y/N gently wiped his tears away.
“I love you.” Bradley said softly, clinging to her. They sat for a while before Penny and Maverick came to close up, putting chairs back inside.
He frowned and helped Bradley up, “All good?” he asked, rubbing his back.
Bradley nodded and wiped under his nose, “Yeah.”
Y/N held his hand, and decided she'd drive the bronco back to their place; holding his hand tightly.
“I'm sorry I ruined the night.” he whispered after a few minutes.
“Hey no, never apologies for what happened,I'm sorry I didn't think about it sooner.” Y/N frowned, moving her hand to rest on his leg.
Bradley shook his head, and leaned into her; kissed her shoulder. “Thank you.”
The one where Jungkook makes a horrifically bad first impression.
Pairing: Jungkook x reader
Warnings: Jungkook is actually an absolute sweetheart. Smut; kissing, handjobs, fingering and unprotected penetrative sex.
Word Count: 21K
Loitering at the edge of the curb that sits just outside your second-floor flat, you exhale a heavy sigh. There’s a long night at work ahead of you, no doubt; taking orders, making idle chitchat - standing on your feet for hours on end - and honestly, the idea of it has you feeling far less than enthused.
It’s not as though you hate your job. The tips are good and the kitchen staff are skilled enough that you rarely ever have to deal with any complaints, and given that your parents own the place it’s not as though it’s ever a struggle to change your shift or take the day off. Still, some days even the most motivated employees don’t feel like working, and today is one of those days.
Pulling your phone from your back pocket, you make sure to glance from left to right to check for oncoming traffic before succumbing to the lure of the sixth-inch screen now rested in your palm. You’re already smiling as you open the message that’s awaiting you; a reply from Namjoon confirming the plans you’d made to go see a film together this weekend - strictly as friends, of course. As handsome as Namjoon is, the two of you shared far too many childhood paddling pools growing up to ever be able to consider each other as anything more than the very best of friends - a good thing, really, considering he’s about as straight as a right angle.
You step off of the pavement, head bent low as your thumbs tap out a reply to the lightly teasing tone in which he so often texts you; so absorbed by the technology in your hand that you don’t even see the motorbike that’s speeding down the road, heading directly across your path. It’s not until it’s almost right on top of you that you even hear the engine’s roar, but as soon as your brain registers the sound it stops your body in its tracks, reflexively flinching backwards just in time to narrowly avoid being hit by anything more than a strong gust of wind as it careens past.
Panic-stricken, you very nearly drop your phone as you stumble back onto the safety of the pavement, hands shaking, and you don’t even really realise you’re yelling until people around you have started to stop and stare. The woman who’d seen it all happen and had originally begun to approach you to offer her aid has now thought better of it; crossing over to the other side of the road rather than deal with the adrenaline-fuelled rage that has you spewing a litany of curses after the motorcyclist and sticking your first and middle finger up in the air. You know he won’t be able to hear a word of it but you don’t let that stop you, only ending your tirade once his dot of dark hair has disappeared from sight and the sound of his motorbike has faded in the distance; a gentle, distant purr.
