congrats on 500! very much deserved ☺️ i want to get my ask in early for…..fake dating with bradley. i feel like he’d oddly get really into it, man is a showman thru and thru
♡ pairing ; rooster x female!reader
♡ wc ; 1.2k
♡ warnings ; a creepy dude tries to hit on you?, mentions of alcohol consumption
♡ note ; thank you so so so much for requesting jordan :(( you're so right!!! if this was longer, i definitely would have gotten into rooster pulling out all the stops. that man would buy couple looks for him and his fake girlfriend, change my mind.
The guy is there again.
You spot him across the bar the moment he comes in, so attuned to it by now that it’s all you do. Like there’s some kind of radar newly installed inside of you. You look for him around corners and in supermarkets and especially at night when you do the five-minute trek from your job to your apartment in the dark of the night, only intercepted by flickering streetlights.
It was fun in the beginning when you met him at the bar: A bit of harmless flirting, a few winks, a number scribbled on a napkin. But then you didn’t call him, too busy and too shy and honestly not interested enough, and suddenly it wasn’t all that fun anymore.
Suddenly, it got scary. Every time you arrive for drinks with your friends, he lingers somewhere at your periphery. By the toilets, by the jukebox, by the pinball machine. Always keeping an eye on you. Always glowering, always nursing a drink, only disappearing outside for periodic breaks and then coming back reeking of cigarettes.
It’s not like he ever does anything, and so you’re too embarrassed to tell your friends about it, to ask them to change locations for your Friday post-work drinks, when the Hard Deck has been a firmly cemented part of the routine for years. What if they laugh at you? What if they think you’re overreacting? What if they tell you not to act like the whole world revolves around you, not to be so full of yourself that you think any guy that looks at you in crowded bars might be a stalker?
So nothing really bad has happened - but the fear is there. Lodged firmly in your chest, sinking its ugly, icy claws into you at every turn. The fear that something could happen, something really, awfully, truly bad. You don’t want to end up on Dateline.
And tonight, you’re alone. One of your friends just canceled, citing a cold, and the other two are stuck in San Diego’s rush-hour traffic. So you’re alone at your usual table in the corner, in a new dress that suddenly seems too short, fidgeting with the glass of gin and tonic in front of you, drawing shapes into the condensation that do nothing to calm the racing of your heart.
You glance at the guy again, just to gauge how far he is from you. But when you spot him leaning against the wall, he’s already looking at you. Your eyes meet, and ice-cold, instantaneous panic trickles into you.
Oh god, you think as he pushes off the wall, as he grins at you, oh god, no. That wasn’t intentional. Oh god.
He pushes his way through the crowd, and you look around, frantic, both hands gripping the table’s edge, heart in your throat, eyes burning, and then… You spot a flicker of something colorful.
“Rooster!”
You rise half out of your chair, waving frantically.
Rooster turns around, genuine confusion on his face. You remember him vaguely from a drunk night a month or two ago when your friend’s friend Phoenix introduced her fellow Naval aviators to you. He’d been nice enough, a little absent-minded, drinking beer and bobbing his head along to Springsteen tunes. Wearing the same fading Hawaiian shirt.
Mostly, you remember his face from a rather embarrassing, rather steamy dream you had about a day or two later. What can you say? The mustache might look like it’s jumped right out of a 70s porno, but it sorta works for you.
Which makes you seriously worry about your taste in men, but that’s beside the point.
He raises an eyebrow but comes over anyway. Smiles at you. Says, “Hi.”
“Hi,” you answer. “You remember me?”
Rooster nods. “Phoenix’s friend, right?”
And then he even repeats your name, and it shouldn’t matter, but it sort of makes your heart stutter. You wish you could indulge in the giddy feeling, in the oh my god, he remembers me of it all, but over his shoulder, the man is still approaching, something unreadable, something dark, something frightening on his face.
You don’t know what you look like, but Rooster’s brows furrow as he looks at you.
“You alright?”
“I…” You pause, wonder if maybe you’ve read too many romance books, wonder if you’ve watched too many Hallmark movies, but then you think fuck it, who cares, whatever. “The guy behind you… he’s been bothering me for some time now.”
Something like anger crosses Rooster’s face. His mustache trembles a little bit.
“Did he hurt you? I can…”
“No, nothing like that, just….” You shrug, suddenly helpless. “Can you… I know this sounds insane, but will you just pretend to be my boyfriend? Please? Only for like five minutes….”
Your voice starts trailing off towards the end of the sentence. Nerves set in, tingle up your spine, turn your insides liquid. God, this must be the worst idea of all time. You don’t even know Rooster, can’t explain why you’re asking him this.
Just… There's something about him that makes you feel strangely, inexplicably safe. You want him to stay with you a little longer.
Rooster’s throat moves as he swallows, looking down at you with something searching in those brown eyes. That gaze almost makes you squirm on the spot.
And then suddenly, Rooster’s arm is sliding around your waist, his nose is buried in your hair, and he’s whispering, “Sorry for not asking first, I’ll stop touching you in a second.”
In your chest, your heart flutters like a robin. You don’t even want him to stop touching you.
He withdraws, turning both of you to face the guy. He’s stopped just a step or two from your table, brows furrowed over dark, glinting eyes, an expression on his face as if he’s just bitten into a lemon. Your first instinct is to shrink back, to hide behind Rooster, but he gives your waist a reassuring squeeze.
Suddenly, it’s not so difficult. Suddenly, you don’t feel so afraid. Not with Rooster there.
“You got a problem, pal?” Rooster asks, and you can feel the echoes of his voice rumbling in his chest.
The man’s eyes flicker towards you just for a second, then he looks back at Rooster. Seems to gauge his chances. Deem them relatively low.
He shrugs, jerks his head, disappears into the crowd.
You let out a shuddering breath, letting go of all that fear that’s been building for weeks, that’s been weighing you down more than you’d like to admit.
“Thank you,” you whisper, stepping away from him, leaving the circle of his arms reluctantly. “That… I’m sorry. But thank you. You helped me so much.”
Rooster throws another glance in the direction the man disappeared in, something vigilant in his eyes. Then he looks down at you, and the steel in his gaze dissolves. Eyes, once again, like molten chocolate.
“No worries,” he says, smiling softly. “I’ll leave you to it.”
You nod dumbly, watch his retreating back as you slowly sink down into your chair again.
And then Rooster stops, halfway to the counter, turns around, says your name.
Once he’s sure he has your attention, he smiles, almost bashfully.
He delivers the killing blow, the thing you’re sure you’ll think about for years to come, that will crawl beneath your skin, into your bloodstream, and settle there, live there, grow there.
Summary: For his whole life, Rooster has had one special, defining feature - his heart eyes. Full of such love and adoration for so many things, he’s been told and teased countless times by his mother and friends for them. So when you, the niece of Penny Benjamin, walk into a garden party where he and his top gun buddies have been invited to with a smile on your face and the sweetest personality to boot? How can he help it - he just has heart eyes for you.
A/N: Idkkkk I had this idea and kinda loved it. Now, 2.8K words later, it’s all written and done! As always, I appreciate comments, constructive criticism, and support, so let me know what you think! Requests are open <3. Enjoy!!!!
It had been a part of Bradley for as long as he could remember. Other kids had defining characteristics to them – dimples on their cheeks, a buck-toothed grin, maybe even the cutest button nose to date. But Bradley, oh little Bradley, he has heart eyes. With so much love in his heart, his big, brown doe eyes would fill with so much compassion and adoration for things that he couldn’t keep it in him. He wore his heart on his sleeve and his love in his eyes.
His mother always used to tell him that he had them whenever his babysitter, Audrey, would watch him for the night. She was a high schooler who lived close by, always willing to lend a helping hand to Mrs. Bradshaw and her son. Bradley saw her as the prettiest girl alive – long hair, a kind grin, and always happy to let him talk to her about his new action figures.
“Oh honey, you’ve got heart eyes.” Is what she would always say, grabbing his chin gently and giving him a nose kiss. He’d blush and duck his head away, trying to hide the fact that he was utterly infatuated with his babysitter.
“No I don’t,” Bradley would protest, “She’s just nice, that’s all.” Sensing her son’s embarrassment, she’d switch topics quickly and let him show her how he organized his model planes. But anyone could see the way his eyes transformed when his babysitter would walk through the door and give him a big hug.
Description: A fic based on the song Travelin' Soldier except it's the happy ending that it should have been
Content: Sad/Lonely!Bob for a minute, less than ideal family dynamics (Bob has mommy issues low key), friends that aren’t supportive, a love at first sight so quick it’s unreal, wrong info about the navy, probably wrong timing of how long it takes to receive a letter from cross country on a naval base, happy ending I promise
Word Count: 3.8k
The absolute biggest thanks to @hederasgarden for being my beta on this and being incredibly patient with me never wanting to end a sentence properly. Another thank you to the top gun gang discord for encouraging me to write (and post) again, so much love for y'all.
You could always tell when spring was turning to summer despite the dates on the calendar. The humidity had begun to hang around, the sun set later, and those that came in on lunch break used more napkins to wipe their sweat. You found yourself fanning your warm skin in between running food in the family owned diner you worked in when your coworker, Melissa, asked you to cover her section while she took a quick break. It was nearing the end of the day and the dinner rush had begun to die down, so you accepted.
A few minutes later, you spotted a tall man with dirty blond hair, outdated wire-framed glasses, and a green jumpsuit making his way across the small dining room to sit at the high top bar. It wasn’t unusual to see men from your small Tennessee town in uniform, many of them took any opportunity to get out just as you were planning yourself. However, most of them were surrounded by loved ones right before deployment. He sat alone, placing his duffel bag on the seat next to him and resting his arms on the counter. As you made your way over to him, you found yourself wondering how someone could be alone at such a time. He had a baby face, but he couldn’t have been much older than you.
“Can I start you off with something to drink?” you asked with a kind smile, feeling sympathetic.
“Not really hungry, ma’am. I could use some company though,” the blond man uttered in a quiet voice, as he glanced up only long enough to get a quick look at you.
“Well, I’m afraid I’m not off for another hour, but if you want to wait until then you’re more than welcome to…Lieutenant Robert Floyd,” you said, reading the patch on his chest as you leaned down and rested your elbows on the bartop in an attempt to see his face better. He looked down at his fidgeting hands, a deep red forming on his neck as he replied, “That’s fine, I have a few hours until I need to be in Memphis anyways.”
Despite what he said, you still put in an order of fries and got him a fresh cup of iced water. He graciously accepted and you spent the rest of your shift finishing with the few tables you had left, grateful it was a weekday and you didn’t have anyone coming in at the last minute. Throughout clearing tables, grabbing your tips, and beginning to sweep, you felt his eyes on you. Looking up, you had caught the man at the counter looking away as quickly as possible, creating a small smile on your face. As you rounded the corner from the kitchen with your purse and removed your apron, you found him rummaging through his bag.
“Ready to go?” you asked, shaking your hair out from the bow you used to tie it back.
“Um, yeah, I just need to find my wallet to pay for my food,” he stated, not removing his eyes from his duffel as he pushed his hands through the side pockets.
“Don’t worry about it Floyd, consider it a thank you for all that you do,” you said, grabbing his plate and taking it back to the kitchen. You found him shifting in his seat, obviously uncomfortable. “Or you can get me next time”.
He relaxed slightly, grabbing his duffel and watching as you came out from behind the bar to meet him. It wasn’t until he was standing next to you that you realized how tall he really was. You grabbed his arm, wishing Melissa a good night and walked through the front door. Starting your walk down the street, you noticed the hot sun finally beginning to set beyond the trees.
“My name-, he started.
“So, are you,” you began, realizing you had spoken in unisom. “You first.”
“I was, uh, I was just going to say everyone calls me Bob,” he stated, motioning to the patch on his chest.
“Ok, Bob, I was just asking if you were from this area, think I would remember someone like you,” you inquired, watching a small smile, the first you’d seen him crack, appear on his face.
“No, m’am, I was born and raised just outside of Knoxville, one blinking stoplight, one bar. Seems like you might know the type.” He let out a chuckle as he looked around the small main street you’ve been taking him down for the past few minutes.
Shortly after, the two of you arrived at a small wooden dock overlooking a pond that had begun to look green with lily pads. You sat your bag on the picnic table and walked down the rickety dock, making careful steps to avoid the weaker spots. Looking over your shoulder as you sat, you spotted Bob cautiously trying to follow your steps. You felt the dock shake slightly the closer he got to where you were seated, feet dangling inches above the water. He sat next to you, pulling his legs under him to avoid getting his boots wet. After a few moments of silence he spoke up.
“Miss, I need to be honest here. I know you probably have a boyfriend and I’m just a stranger, but I got no one back home. I remember during basic, they would pass the letters from loved ones out and I would just sit there. Having to would watch everyone read how much they were missed back home and I would just hope that maybe,” he cleared his throat. “Maybe next time, I’d have someone missing me. Yet here I am, headed to base for the next few months with no one. If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I’d like to send a letter back here to you.”
You watched him lift his head, his blue eyes meeting yours for the first time. Your heart ached, wondering how a man with so much love could have no one to send a letter home to.
“Who said I have a boyfriend?” You asked, keeping eye contact as long as he allowed.
“I guess I just assumed a girl like you would have men asking left and right for at least a dance,” Bob said in a voice so quiet, it was barely heard over the sound of the cicadas.
“Well then, it may come as a surprise to you that I do not have a boyfriend and I have far less men asking me for a dance than you’d expect. Zero to be exact,” you trailed off, suddenly embarrassed by the admission. “But, I really would enjoy receiving a letter from you, Bob”
He smiled at you, “Tell me about yourself“
The two of you spent the next few hours talking about your hometowns, his time training, and even what he could about the next few months. When the time finally came for him to make his way back to town to catch his ride, the sun had set and the air had become cool again.
You walked him back into town, sharing a comfortable silence. Reaching where you had parked, you found yourself filled with dread at the idea of him leaving. You finally met a man your age with a good head on his shoulders, and he was hours away from being shipped across the country from you. Trying not to be bitter in your last moments together, you looked up at him with the best fake smile you could muster. Despite knowing him for only four hours at this point your conversations felt so natural and you hoped that he’d felt the same.
“I wanna thank you for today,” he started, looking down at his hands as you leaned against your car. “Having someone to be with before being sent away made today less dreary…” he trailed off, looking back at your face, and studying your reaction. Although you would never understand what he was feeling now, you couldn’t imagine the loneliness that came from not having anyone to come home to after months away.
“The pleasure was all mine, never met a navy pilot before.” You smirked, watching him open his mouth in protest. “Sorry, forgot you’re ‘just a WSO’. I can’t believe you thought being the person in charge of dropping bombs from an airplane was lame. I never wanna hear that again, got it?”
He looked at you confused for a moment. “Again?”
“Well, I’m not going to write these letters and pay postage for a man I don’t plan on seeing again. Plus, you owe me for the fries.” You replied, watching his face redden as he pushed his glasses back up.
“You'll wait for me?’ He asked, making sure he was reading you correctly.
“As long as I keep getting replies to my letters.” You reached up, wrapping your arms around his neck to embrace him and hoped he couldn’t hear the way your heart was beating out of your chest. After a moment, you pulled away, taking one last look into his eyes as a truck pulled up. As it slowed to where you both stood, you noticed a man in a similar uniform sat in the driver’s seat. Bob took a step back, eyes staying locked on yours as he opened the door and climbed in. You broke contact first, hand rummaging through your purse at your side as you took two steps forward, now standing on the edge of the curb. Your hand hit silk and you pulled the ribbon out quickly.
“Something to remind you to come back,” you said, reaching through the rolled down window, and tying it onto his duffel bag. You knew he’d have to find somewhere else to keep it once he got to base, but for the time being, it would be tied in a bow on the top strap.
You stood still, watching the truck drive away until it turned down a street out of sight. You walked slowly, feet dragging along the pavement to your car. You took a few moments of silence to consider the events of today before you turned the key and made your way home, drafting what you wanted to include in your first letter.
—--------------
The first month went by fast, school was out for the summer which meant there were more teenagers at the restaurant and more time you spent working. The times you weren’t, you spent in thought about Lt. Robert Floyd. Your friends took notice of how often you spent staring off and despite your best efforts to explain the connection, everyone brushed it off as a simple school girl crush over a man in a uniform. At first you were frustrated having to explain how in a few short hours and two letters with military postage, you felt you knew him forever. As the months would go on, the comments from your friends had become less frequent. You didn’t know if it was from them beginning to understand or them growing bored of the same jokes, but it didn’t matter. The third letter you’d received at the very end of the month had a new return address– San Diego. You felt your heart ache as he was now across the country.
By the second month, you built a routine of sorts. The main part included going into work before the sun rose to distract yourself and avoid worrying about how he was. Some days you felt silly, stressing over a man that was too busy doing tasks of actual importance to worry about some girl he met once at a small diner in a map dot town. Other days, you worried about his safety. You would attempt to reassure yourself with the thought that he knew what he was doing, but his pilot? You had no idea who they were. Did they have someone to come home to? Did they care about the safety of their WSO in the backseat? You wondered if the man that drove him to base was his pilot.
The days new letters came were your favorite. No matter how soon the last letter had come in, everyday you’d run to the mailbox hoping to find a white envelope with clear, neat handwriting addressed to you. On days you did, you’d drop your bag on the floor of the hallway and hurry to sit and read every word of his surprisingly tidy cursive. After the third read you’d carefully fold it back up exactly as it was and hold it to your chest, sighing deeply. Any chores you’d saved for after work were abandoned in order to get your reply out as soon as possible.
The third month was hard, nothing you did could distract you from your thoughts. Everywhere you looked there were banners and flags in celebration of those who serve. The local VFW hall was handing out small flags with tags that included names of local veterans or those currently serving. Your friends humored you by tagging along when you placed one in the ground, a small label that read, Lieutenant Robert “BOB” Floyd US Navy, WSO.You spent the Fourth of July watching fireworks with your loved ones, hoping next year he could be beside you on the small blanket. After the holiday passed, you went back to the VFW hall and grabbed the small flag to show Bob when he returned.
The fourth month brought a lot of doubt from those around you, especially your friends. You were young and they felt you should be out having fun, not waiting by your mailbox hoping for a letter from your favorite sailor. You had shared your frustrations with Melissa and some of the regulars at work, but they encouraged you to ignore what those around you had to say. The older crowd at work especially loved what you were doing, believing it was romantic and a true test of commitment.
At the beginning of the fifth month, you had grown anxious. It had been almost a month since you heard anything from him. The prior letter was short and explained, without giving details, that training was going to be more rigorous to help prepare them for something that had come up. This meant that he wouldn’t be able to write much. In your reply to him you wrote you understood the situation and told him he needed to focus on training. The letters could wait if they needed to, you wanted him to have a clear mind in the sky. That was twenty six days ago. Worried thoughts had begun to take up space in your mind with each day that passed. You wondered if his plane was shot down or if there was a malfunction in equipment during training. In the back of your mind you selfishly wondered if he had grown bored of this game the two of you had been playing.
After one exceptionally long day you raced home to check your mailbox and this time, there was a letter. In his handwriting, your full name and address were on the front. Tears welled up in your eyes out of relief and you couldn’t wait to open it inside. As you sat in your car, you carefully opened the envelope and saw it contained more pages than he had ever written. Each sentence cleared any doubt you had about him coming back to you.
The first page was strictly apologies. One for the late reply and making you wait for him, the other for not being able to fill you in. In the second page, he went on to explain that he had been selected for a mission that was ‘complicated’, as he described it. He figured it was easier to sugar coat it than worry you that his admiral called it a suicide mission. But somehow, against all odds, everyone made it back on the carrier.
Bob shared more about his family next, he explained that he was raised by a single mother that worked nights and overtime to support them. This led to him joining the navy right out of high school after researching the benefits they could receive. He wanted to step up and help provide a better life for the both of them. He even wrote how he watched her heart break when she found the papers in his bedroom. Instead of beaming with pride as he expected, she was furious, wondering how he could put himself into such a dangerous situation willingly. It’s been nearly four years since they’ve spoken. The fear of losing him in a tragic accident was too great and she couldn’t take anymore heartbreak.
Your cheeks had become damp with tears, but you continued to read. As he would tell you later, you had become the first person Bob ever admitted feeling scared to. He would never tell anyone else, but sometimes the lack of control in the backseat made his hands sweat. This was immediately followed by how in those times of fear the past five months, he would take a deep breath and imagine you. Specifically how you looked dipping the tips of your shoes into the pond with a smile on your face, a pale pink haze from the sunset surrounding you. Your letters motivated him to stay focused and do whatever he needed to do in order to come back for you. Afterall, he owed you fries, and he could never turn back on that.
You sat in your car until long after the sun had set and the cool breeze coming in the windows helped to dry your tear stained cheeks. You held the letter against your chest like all the times before, but this time it wasn’t just to feel close to him, it was to make sure that you weren’t dreaming. You wanted to be sure that the pages where he had poured his heart out to you were real. You tried to imagine him writing the letter, probably on a bunk too small for his height. Maybe it was late at night after everyone else had fallen asleep. Above all, you wondered if he felt the same butterflies writing it as you did reading it. The thought alone left you with a giddy smile as you walked into the house.
Three weeks had passed since that day and you still reread parts of the letter daily. Specifically, the final paragraph where he’d promised to come back. You’d gotten a few letters since, one that had come the next day apologizing for dumping a lot on you. He hoped it hadn’t scared you off, but if it did, he understood. At the end of it he told you that they were starting to wrap up this deployment and while it could still take another month until he was back, the end was within reach. After receiving it you woke up everyday excited to see if today was the day. However, you didn’t feel disappointed when you returned home alone because that meant you were one day closer.
On the last Saturday of the fifth month, you arrived at work early in anticipation of a busy day. There was a lot that needed to be done and you didn’t want to be working on it while the breakfast rush was coming in. As expected, the diner filled up within an hour of being open and remained busy for most of the day. Thankful for the fall weather that had begun to come in, you opened the windows in the late afternoon to get some fresh air before remaking the coffee. With your back still turned to the door you heard the familiar chime of the bell alerting you to someone arriving.
“I’ll seat you in just a second!” You called out, focused on pouring fresh water into the coffee pot.
“That’s alright ma'am, I think I’ll sit at the counter if that’s alright. Just here for some fries,” a timid voice replied.
You turned around to greet the man and there he stood, Lieutenant Robert Floyd in the same green flight suit you met him in nearly six months ago. He had a slight tan from the west coast sun and he looked tired, but it was him. You stared in disbelief, wondering if your eyes were playing tricks on you.
It took one of your favorite regulars yelling out, “Well honey, don’t just stand there, welcome the sailor home!” to snap you out of your trance.
You don’t remember where the mug you were holding went, all you could focus on was taking the five large steps across the outdated tile to be standing in front of him. Bob met you halfway and pulled you into a tight hug, his hand holding the back of your neck. You nuzzled your head into his shoulder and inhaled, trying to memorize the way this moment felt in every sense. The silence that had fallen over the diner was gradually replaced with the regular sounds of the dinner rush, but you don’t hear any of it. The only thing you could focus on was his heart beating, the sound grounding you to him. After a few moments, you removed your head from its spot and looked into his eyes. His watery blue eyes meet yours as the tears that had been collecting begin to descend down your cheeks.
“Hey, hey, hey, no tears okay? I’m here, plus I brought something back for you,” he said as he moved his thumbs from the side of your face to wipe your tears. One hand unzipped the flight suit and the other reached into the breast pocket, pulling out the same silk ribbon you had given him. You were surprised at the condition. It was perfectly intact. He reached around your shoulders to tie your hair back with it, similar to how it was when he first got a glimpse of you. As you opened your mouth to ask how he kept it so nice, Melissa called out, “Alright kids, outta here, I’ll close up tonight.”
Before you could protest, Bob had your hand in his and was pulling you outside to where his truck was parked. As you reached the door he turned you, pressing your back against the warm metal and leaning down close, trying to judge your reaction. With a subtle nod, he closed the gap between the two of you for the first time. His lips were soft and you reached up to grab at the back of his neck..
He pulled away first. “It’s nice to have someone to come home to.”
wearing rooster’s hawaiian shirt while your secretly dating
a/n: my first attempt at a bullet point fic so sorry if it’s not the best. i didn’t have much time since i’m currently babysitting but i wanted to get something out until i can sit down and write the sequel to when we’re ready :)
you and bradley had been dating for almost 8 months now and none of your friends knew
you had caught his eye when you hadn’t even batted an eye and hangman’s obnoxious flirting and the rest was history
it took him awhile before he fully shared everything with you and let you wear his hawaiian shirts or his aviators cause those were things that connected him to his dad and were very important to him
but eventually he did, and it made him content, he knew his dad would have loved you and it made him happy to share pieces of his dad with you
once he started letting you wear them you did so all the time and it was like second nature
so you thought absolutely nothing of it when you wore one of his shirts to work today
you worked as a bartender at the hard deck and you had a rather long shift today and you wanted to be comfortable and you missed Bradley as he was currently away guest lecturing at another base
his shirt was comfortable since it was so big on you and it made you feel close to him so it was a win win
what you hadn’t thought about however was bradley’s friends recognizing the shirt
which they did, very quickly
almost as soon as phoenix walked in to the bar she had noticed it
she gave you a sarcastic “nice shirt” but left it at that
and that was pretty much all the rest of the group said as well if the elected to mention it
except for hangman
he wasn’t gonna let this go until you admitted you and bradley were dating
he started with the same “nice shirt” commented phoenix had used as he sat at the bar but added “where’d you get it?” at the end
your response was a simple “ i don’t know it’s not mine” and you hoped he would leave it at that
but he’s hangman so of course he didn’t
“it just looks familiar is all, like maybe it belongs to a certain navy pilot with a mustache? he wears shirts like that a lot”
“i don’t know what your talking about”
thoroughly tired of dealing with the man you said “ if i say yes will you leave me alone”
“so it is his! i knew it.”
“oh my god, it is. are you happy now?”
“very, thanks sweetheart”
he ordered another beer from you before finally leaving you alone in favor of bothering everyone else at the pool table
shortly after hangman left the bar phoenix made her way over
“so you and bradshaw, huh”
so hangman had told everyone over there about you and bradley, big shocker
deciding there was no point in denying now you answered her honestly “uh, yeah, for about 8 months now”
you continue to wipe glasses and serve a few people while you told phoenix all the details of your and bradley’s relationship
about half way through the night and your shift bradley showed up, surprising you since he wasn’t supposed to get back for a few more days
at this point you were sure the whole bar had been told you were together thanks to hangman’s big mouth
and you were so excited to see bradley, that after a nod of approval from penny you were running out from behind the bar and into bradley’s arms to pull him into a bruising kiss
he hesitated at first, slightly confused at this kind of greetting in such a public space but quickly recovered and and wrapped his arms around your waist to kiss you back just as hard
after pulling apart from the kiss to catch your breath, bradley rested his forehead against yours
“not that i didn’t love that greeting, baby, but i thought we were keeping this between us”
“well we were but i may have accidentally worn you shirt to work today and hangman and his big mouth found out”
rooster broke out in to a chuckle before he responded
“sounds like hangman, that’s okay though, it’s about time they found and and you look spectacular in my shirts and i can’t be mad at that”
you hummed in response before placing another, more delicate kiss on his lips
This Must Be The Place - Rooster x Roommate!reader
summary: oh my god … they were roommates. anyway, rooster’s a stage 5 clinger (and madly in love with you) and doesn’t realize until the threat of losing you presents itself.
WC: 5k
a/n: i’ve been thinking about a roommate trope series for awhile. some of the flashbacks/points in this fic that i emphasize, i may want to write entire fics for. if that’s something anyone (could be just one person lol) wants to see, let your girl know :)
warnings: angstttt, swearing, mentions of death, low key toxic behavior, some smut - minors dni (🤺)
There had to be new track marks indented in the carpet given how hard Rooster is pacing back and forth in the living room of the cottage. The room wasn’t big, there wasn’t much space to cover, but he can’t stop. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. He’s restless, unable to settle down because where the hell are you?
Running was part of your routine now. A part of your routine he’s gotten used to since you moved in. You took advantage of the cooler evening San Diego temperatures and usually timed your runs to arrive back when he pulled in from work. Whether the timing was intentional, to ensure you’d see each other more, he wasn’t sure but, he didn’t stop to consider that because when he pulled in today, you were nowhere to be found.
You’re an adult, a grown up, and normally, Bradley wouldn’t stress about it. Maybe you went for an extra long run, maybe you stopped at the beach for a while. From the time he entered the cottage, changed into comfier clothes, and popped the lid off a beer, that’s what he told himself. Then thunder that sounded alarmingly deep and close rattled the house. Then rain started to fall, just a small sprinkle that quickly escalated into to a downpour. And you still hadn’t returned.
The darker the sky turned, the darker his thoughts about you became. Could you have been hurt and stranded in the storm, could you be lost? You’ve only lived in the area for a few months, maybe you decided to take a different turn and couldn’t find your way back. If that was the case, then why weren’t you answering your phone?
✧ summary: It's your birthday and Rooster goes above and beyond to make it special. From breakfast to nail appointments, all the way to a shopping spree and dinner... He's got a surprise party planned and a big question to ask you.
✧ requested: yes
✧ pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Female!Reader
✧ Rooster masterlist
“Rooster, what is going on?” You giggle as your boyfriend twirls you in a circle as you walk through the downtown square. His aviators covered a pair of striking sea-glass orbs that were building with intense adoration for you. Today was your birthday and he was treating his girl.
“You’re the birthday girl,” Rooster said as if you had forgotten. “The birthday girl gets spoiled.”
Smirking, he wrapped an arm over your shoulder, and your fingers immediately laced through his. “So, we’re first having breakfast at your favorite bakery. After that, I have an appointment set up for you to get your nails done, followed by taking you on a shopping spree. You can buy anything you want, so long as you pick out a dress for tonight’s special occasion.”
Your eyes widen as you stare up at him. He’s already grabbing the door to the bakery and the scent of fresh coffee greets your airways.
“Babe,” You say as he kisses the crown of your head while pushing you inside. You two are seated and soon ordering some of your favorite pastries along with your desired coffee. Rooster is drinking a straight black coffee and munching off the edge of one of your scones, making you smile widely at him. He hums at the taste, his heart fluttering at the sight of you.
He wasn’t sure what was weighing on his conscience more. The fact he had to keep your surprise party under wraps until tonight… Or that he was asking you to be his wife.
Maverick, Penny, Amelia, Hangman, and Phoneix were in charge of getting the house ready for your return tonight. Rooster couldn’t wait to see your face tonight when you were surrounded by all your family and friends, a total surprise to you.
Once you and Rooster finished up, he was guiding you back out to the Bronco and you couldn’t help but stop in at the passenger’s side of the car.
“What?” Bradley asked, cradling your cheek. A smile spreads across your face as you lean up on your tiptoes to press a searing kiss to his mouth.
“I love you so much, Bradshaw,” You whisper before he’s opening the door and you’re slipping inside.
“I love you too, pretty girl. Now come on, let’s go get these done,” He kissed your knuckles and closed the door.
On the way to your favorite nail salon, you two were belting out random hits on the radio. You loved it when Rooster sang for you. He had a pretty voice and you always told him that if he wasn’t in the Navy, he should’ve been a singer.
He reached over and tangled his fingers through yours. He constantly pulled your hand up to his mouth to kiss a line across your knuckles, warm breath on your skin causing you to smile. When you two made it to the nail appointment, Rooster sat like a proud boyfriend in the waiting area while he watched your eyes light up while choosing a nail color.
“Baby, which one?” You raise a hot pink and a nude color. “Or should I just do French tips?”
Rooster bit his lip. What would make that diamond pop more?
“Hot pink, baby girl,” He grinned.
You smiled and put the other color selection back and walked over to the desk. Bradley saw the way your eyes lit up as you spoke to your nail tech.
“Is that your lucky guy over there?” The woman asked as she filed your nails.
You felt your cheeks burn as you nodded.
“He’s the one,” You say with a heartfelt grin. You couldn’t help but cast your eyes over to Rooster who was staring down at his phone. He confirmed last-minute party details with Penny and he felt your stare. Lifting his emerald eyes, he flashed you a smile with one of his signature winks, a wink that made your heart pound furiously in your chest. He still made you feel like a teenager.
As you finished your nail appointment, you rejoined Rooster at the register who quickly swiped his card with an arm wrapped around you securely. The woman grinned at the two of you.
“You guys are adorable… Happy Birthday, Y/n,” She beamed.
“Thank you!” You squeak as Rooster hurriedly pulls you out of the salon. The moment he’s got you at the Bronco, he’s pressing your back to the passenger’s side door and soaking in the lovely scent of your perfume. Your arms tangle around his neck, hot pink nails looking extra delicious crossing over the broadness of your boyfriend’s shoulders.
“Thank you,” You whisper, leaning up to kiss him sweetly. That sweet kiss was soon deepened when Rooster slipped his tongue into your mouth. A delicate string of moans leaves your mouth as Rooster’s fingertips slip down to loop through the belt holes on your shorts.
“Ready for your shopping spree?” He asked.
“How can I say no to shopping?” You gasp with a smirk as Rooster is helping you into the Bronco. Again, he’s holding your hand the entire way there, his eyes admiring your fresh nails at every stoplight. He’s smiling to himself, constantly checking in his left pocket to make sure the ring was still there. He was thankful you hadn’t started feeling around on him, or he’d be outed in no time.
The trip to your favorite boutique was a fun one. Rooster was following you around and his eyes gravitated toward more Hawaiian shirts as if his collection wasn’t strong enough.
“Bradley,” You giggle as he picks one up and holds it to his chest.
“I don’t have this one!” He insists, flashing you a sweetheart smile that makes your head dizzy.
“Just get it!” You laugh, knowing he was a sucker for a good Hawaiian shirt. He held onto it while you walked down each aisle. You chose a little black party dress and Rooster swore you couldn’t have picked anything better. You paired it with a pair of silver heels that were glitzy and glamorous. He could already see you dressed up tonight and he knew it was going to be a fight within himself to not rip it off you the second he’s got you alone.
As you two stood at the register, he saw the way you were staring at the diamond rings inside of the display. Your eyes marveled at the shiny jewelry. “That ring is so pretty,” You whisper, pointing at the oval-shaped diamond engagement ring.
Rooster felt the sweat begin to collect on his forehead. The sales associate grinned as she rang up the items. You toyed with the idea in your mind of being engaged to Bradley… Becoming the future Mrs. Bradley Bradshaw had a wonderful ring to it and you felt your heart beat a little faster.
“Here you go,” The woman smiled, bringing you out of your trance. Rooster accepted the bags and soon the two of you were piling out of the clothing store and headed for the Bronco.
“Ready to go home? You and I have to get ready for your surprise,” Rooster looked at you. You stared at the floorboard and nodded.
“Yeah, let’s go,” You whisper. He noticed the look on your face. He saw the way you were staring at those engagement rings.
“Are you okay, baby?” He asks, rubbing your shoulder.
Smiling at him, you nod your head. Maybe there was some part of you that was hoping tonight would be the night he proposed. But you two had talked about it before – he wouldn’t do it on your birthday. It was too expected. And that’s what he had you believing for the last three months.
But little did you know…
“Chin up, pretty girl. I’m ready to see how that dress looks on you.” He sends you a wink and a smile flashes across your face. Once you two are home and getting ready, Rooster’s staring down at his phone. He hears you hop into the shower and while you’re getting ready, he’s talking to Maverick.
“And everything’s set up?” He whispers.
“Everything’s done, Rooster.” Maverick grins as Penny wraps her hand around his waist. “Does she have any idea tonight’s the night?”
Rooster smirks. “I don’t think so… Although we did go to the clothing store and she saw engagement rings. I think she got a little sad but that’ll be cured tonight.” He admits.
“Just give us a heads up when you’re on the way here with her, okay? That way everyone can get into position!” Penny adds.
“You got it… Thanks again for this guys. You’re the best.” Rooster grins as he hangs up the phone and rushes to join you in the shower for a little fun before your date night.
It was constant moans and delicious exchanges of kisses before you two piled out and started to get ready. Rooster was careful to rush for the ring in his jeans pocket and slip it into the pocket of his dress pants before you could realize.
When you appeared from the bedroom wearing the dress and silver heels, Rooster felt his breath catch. He blinked as he saw you walk forward. Your makeup was done to perfection and your hair was beautiful.
“That’s my future wife,” He whispers to himself without your knowledge. “Baby, you look stunning,” He says as he treks forward and wraps his hand around your waist.
Feeling your cheeks burn, you giggle and feel his lips press lightly to your cheek, being careful not to disrupt your makeup. He grabs your hand and is leading you out of the house. Rooster’s wearing a pair of black dress pants with a crisp white button-up and a blazer to match. His hair is pushed up and his green eyes are filled with love for his girl.
Rooster made reservations at your favorite restaurant downtown. A squeal left your mouth when you saw the familiar place, your head shifting to meet his stare.
“You sure did pull out all the stops for my birthday, Rooster,” You remark as he puts the Bronco in park. He leans over and gently kisses your lips, savoring the taste of your mouth on his.
“My girl only deserves the best on her birthday,” He returns your smile before he’s stepping out and walking over to open your door. Soon, the two of you are inside the restaurant and seated. Your favorite drinks are ordered and Rooster can feel the nerves of the night settling in.
After dinner, he was dropping down to one knee to ask you to marry him.
This was going to be the most amazing night of his life. He knew you were going to say yes, but he still experienced nervous jitters thinking about it.
The dinner went beautifully. Dessert was ordered and Rooster requested to have “Will You Marry Me?” be drizzled onto the edge of the plate was put in. A smile lit up your face when the overloaded dessert came forward by way of a waiter, a candle sticking out from the top that was lit and ready for you to blow out.
Rooster was already reaching into his pocket and grasping the ring.
The plate was set down in front of you and as the waiter sang Happy Birthday to you in the sweetest angelic voice, ensuring not to cause too much of a scene, your eyes missed the writing. Rooster was preparing to stand up and he could feel his stomach turning a flip as the knots tied.
“Baby, look at the plate,” He says quietly when you still aren’t gazing down. Your eyebrows furrow and you finally settle your eyes on the white plate.
Written out in chocolate drizzle were those four words you had longed to hear since laying your eyes on Bradley Bradshaw two years ago. Your heart started to race as you looked up and saw Rooster slipping out of his seat and falling to one knee.
Your eyes widened and a hand flew up to cover your mouth. That was causing a scene. Everyone at their dinner tables turned to see the lovely moment, smiles spread across older couples’ faces while a younger generation swooned at the sight of a man asking his girl to be his wife.
“B-Bradley,” You whisper. He takes your hand and gives you a reassuring smile along with a gentle squeeze.
“Sweetheart, from the moment I met you, I knew there was something so special about you. From the way, you obsess over baby animals to the way you care about me and those around you, and your overall love. Your heart is so full of adoration for so many people, but I’m lucky that you give most of it to me. You’ve changed my life for the better and there’s no one else I’d rather journey through life with, especially for the rest of my life. Angel, will you do me the extraordinary honor of marrying me?” Rooster’s small speech had tears streaming down your cheeks.
“Yes!” You squeak, nodding your head. You push yourself out of your seat and join him on the ground as he’s opening the ring to reveal a gorgeous oval-shaped diamond. You gasp at the sight and Rooster’s slipping the ring onto your hand. Your hands are trembling as you wrap your hands around his cheeks and guide him close for a deep kiss.
Rooster grins in victory as the entire restaurant exploded in cheers and claps, congratulating you two on your engagement. You wrap your arms tightly around him as you two stand to your feet. Bradley tilts your chin back and he’s kissing you with such fierceness. These would be lips you’d get to kiss for the rest of your life.
As you two finish up dessert, you’re shaking while staring at the ring, excitement coursing through your veins. Soon, dinner is paid for and the two of you are ushered into the Bronco. You lean over and give him another hard kiss, admiring the ring on your hand.
“Rooster, you did amazing. I love you so much,” You whisper.
“I love you too, baby… But the night’s not over.” He grins and soon he’s driving you toward another place.
“What’s next?” You ask.
Rooster smiled. “Penny, Amelia, and Maverick wanted to see you. They knew I was proposing tonight and so I told them after dinner I’d swing by their place to let them see you… Is that okay?”
You loved those three people. You quickly nodded and smiled as the Bronco pushed forward to their location. The cars were lined up at Maverick’s shop with Hangman and Phoneix gladly escorting everyone back to Penny’s and Mav’s house to hide the fact there was a party happening.
“Rooster and Y/n are on the way!” Amelia exclaimed as she rushed forward. Everyone bustled with activity as they rushed to find hiding spots while Penny waited by the door to catch the headlights of Rooster’s Bronco which would give her the signal to flip the switch.
When she saw it, she cut the lights off and rushed to her position by Maverick.
You smiled and as Rooster parked, you leaned over and kissed him again. He was grabbing your hand and staring up at the house. It was now or never.
Helping you out of the Bronco, he leads you up to the door. Grabbing the doorknob, he twists and pushes it open.
“Are you sure they aren’t in bed?” You say quietly. Rooster turns on the lights and suddenly, everyone jumps out and screams “Surprise!”
A scream floods from your mouth when you see Penny, Maverick, Amelia, Phoenix, Hangman, Bob, Payback… And so many others.
Penny rushes forward to accept you into her arms and Maverick’s hugging Rooster. “Congratulations!” Penny exclaims, squeezing you tight. She’s grabbing your hand and everyone’s now gathered around to view the pretty diamond that Bradley Bradshaw slipped onto your finger.
Smiles are spread everywhere and Rooster can’t help but beam with excitement.
description: in which he finds himself desperate to blow off some steam
warnings: 18+, literally just self-indulgent pwp, unprotected sex, roughness, light bondage, cum kink, dom!rooster, choking, rooster is a bit posessive
pairing: bradley “rooster” bradshaw x nondescript fem!reader (she/her pronouns used)
Bradley was on edge.
Muscles tight, jaw set, hands white-knuckling the steering wheel as he attempted to calm himself for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. He wasn't always the best at keeping his emotions in check.
In fact, he felt like a spool of thread coming unravelled. The only thing, or rather, only person, that could put him back together again, was her. His calming force. His solace after enduring rough seas and unruly storms.
And that was precisely why he was on his way home that very moment.
It was raining outside, pounding angrily against the roof of his old Bronco. It matched his mood, he decided.
The rain didn't let up even after he'd pulled into the driveway of their shared home. Instead of waiting for it to wane, he braved the relentless downpour, ducking his head as he rushed for the door, letting himself in.
The smell of woody scented candles and food greeted him the moment he stepped inside. The comforting warmth of home settled into his bones, and he relaxed only slightly, though there was still that overwhelming frustration swirling within him like the storm clouds that currently filled the sky.
He could hear the clatter of dishes in the kitchen as he kicked off his boots before padding across the hall in sock clad feet. The sight he was met with only deepened his need to relieve the tension within him. She was dressed in one of his shirts, her legs on full display. And when she bent over to open a cabinet, he got an eyeful of her panty clad ass. But nonetheless, he resisted the urge to approach her and take her against the nearest counter.
Instead, he leaned against the archway leading into the kitchen, watching her as she flitted about, putting the finishing touches on the dinner she'd carefully prepared. He'd called her earlier in the day, telling her what a miserable time he was having, and she'd taken compassion on him and decided to have a nice dinner ready when he came home, knowing some hearty food would help a little.
When she turned to place the pot of soup on the table, she found Bradley watching her, and she beamed at him. "You're right on time," she mused, leaning up to kiss him as he approached.
"I see that," he replied, lips tugging into a soft smile.
"I made stew. Thought you'd want something hearty."
So, he sauntered over to the table, pulling out a chair and taking a seat. She came to stand beside him, grabbing the bowl she'd set out and moving to ladle some stew into it.
At such close proximity, Bradley could reach out and touch her. And that's what he did, hand coming out to brush over the back of her exposed thigh.
His touch was featherlight, hardly enough to cause anything. But she noticed, and she bent her knee, pulling her leg away slightly as she shivered. She knew the hidden meaning beneath his touch.
Bradley persisted, this time grasping her thigh in his large hand, sliding towards the inside of her leg. She froze up a little, no match for the affect he had on her. Even so, she tried brushing him off. "Roos," you cautioned.
However, without warning, he was suddenly yanking her into his lap, and she gasped sharply, caught entirely off guard. "I've been thinking about you all goddamn day, and I need you," he gritted out. Really, she was the only thing that had gotten him through the day. The thought of coming home to her kept him going.
"The food is going to get cold," she feebly tried to reason as his hands disappeared beneath her shirt.
"That's not what I'm hungry for," he drawled against her skin.
Well, shit. Before she could react, he was leaning forward to catch her bottom lip between his teeth. "Please, I gotta be inside you. Been thinking about it all day."
And how could she ever say no? Especially when he uttered his next words. "Plus you're walking around in nothing but my shirt and those little panties. How do you expect me to keep my hands to myself?"
The way he was looking at her had her heart quickening in her chest and a shudder running through her. She was putty in his hands. Didn't matter when or where, if he wanted her, she'd let him have it, no questions asked.
"Rooster..." she breathed, at a loss for words already, hips involuntarily grinding down against his.
"Get up." To the point, demanding to be obeyed. Silently, she stood, watching as he followed, broad frame hulking over her. Without warning, he took ahold of her upper arm, roughly pulling her over to the island that stood in the middle of the kitchen, lifting her in one swift movement and placing her atop the cool marble.
"You," he began through his teeth, already ripping her underwear down her legs, "are going to be a good fuckin' girl and do as I say. Do you understand?"
He already had her feeling small, in a way that only he could. It was hard to explain, but when he assumed this role of control, something in her shifted. She would do anything he asked of her, anything at all. "Yes sir."
"Tell me..." he continued, nimble fingers sliding along her inner thigh. "Are you wet for me, baby?"
She couldn't muster any words, for she already knew the shameful truth. He could throw a mere pointed glance in her direction and her underwear would be soaked through. And even as she tried to look away in that moment, Bradley held her face, and then his fingers slid over her center.
A shrewd smile creeped onto his face when he found his suspicions to be true. "Oh," he said, "you dirty girl. You're practically soaked." At his words, an involuntary squeak sounded from her throat.
"What's that? You want me to fuck you?"
"Mhm," was all she could force out.
"What kind of answer is that? We use our words, remember?"
"I want you to fuck me. Please."
"See? All you had to do was ask."
She watched silently as his hands moved to unbuckle the belt around his waist. The clink of the metal had her growing even wetter, the sound only insinuating what was to come. But as he unzipped his pants, he made no move to remove them.
Instead, he pushed her legs apart, one hand coming up to the back of her neck while the other snaked down between her legs. He pulled her in for a bruising kiss, all while shoving two fingers inside her.
She jerked against him at the unexpected intrusion, breaking the kiss in order to let out a strangled gasp.
"Gotta open up this pretty little pussy." Bradley pressed his forehead to her own, hand still on the back of her neck as he began finger fucking her, not even bothering to start slow. She was forced to keep eye contact with him, and it was all so intense that her eyes began to water.
The sound of her wetness was unmistakable and lewd, adding to the eroticism of the moment. He watched her lose control of herself beneath him, her body trembling as those impossibly thick fingers brushed relentlessly against the wall of sensitive nerves inside of her.
Just the sight of her in this state had him painfully hard, and he was quickly losing interest in using his fingers. All too soon, he removed himself from her, ignoring her protest as he yanked her from the island, gasping her wrist in his hand and leading her out of the room.
She was taken to the bedroom, where she was promptly deposited onto the bed as Bradley seamlessly climbed on top of her. "Been waiting for this all day," he gritted, making quick work of maneuvering himself out of his pants, followed by his shirt. "Thinking about what I'm going to do to you."
Somewhere along the way, she'd finally managed to find her words. "What are you gonna do to me, Rooster?" She asked the question with an air of innocence that sent blood rushing to his cock.
He smiled wryly at that. "I'm going to fuck you. Make sure you never forget who you belong to."
His possessive streak made her head spin. "P-please," the softest of whimpers left her.
He lifted her shirt from her body, tossing it somewhere unbeknownst. Then he shoved her legs apart in order to position himself there, though an idea struck him, and he paused for a moment, reaching for his pants. He pulled the belt from the loops, sliding his fingers across it before looking at you.
"Arms over your head." His voice was low, guttural, airing on the side of danger.
She obeyed instantly, lifting her arms. Bradley grabbed them, carefully wrapping his belt around her wrists and then tying her hands to the headboard. "There," he hummed, "if you're a good girl, I'll take the belt off of you."
For him, she'd be the best damn girl there ever was if it meant pleasing him. "Yes sir."
His eyes never left hers as his hand swept down the front of his body. She knew he was touching himself when his jaw tensed, rushed breath slipping from his mouth. His free hand came up to her face, fingertips dancing across her lips. She parted them for him, allowing him to slip his fingers into her mouth. He watched her eagerly suck on the digits, and he grunted softly.
"You'd look so pretty with my dick down your throat," he mused. But he wasn't in the mood to fuck her mouth this time around. That didn't mean he couldn't appreciate how pretty she looked with a part of him shoved into her mouth, though.
She gasped softly when she felt him against her, hardness sliding through her soft, wet folds, barely brushing over her clit. She rocked her hips, hoping he'd get things moving already. But he wasn't finished with her yet. "Who do you belong to, darlin'? Say it."
"You."
"Say it again. Who's going to fuck you into the mattress?"
"You. Please, I-I just want you inside me. I'm so wet for you."
"I know, I can feel it. You're getting wetter by the minute."
She was quickly growing fed up, especially when he kept brushing over her clit but offering no satisfaction. "Please stop teasing me, Rooster. I need you."
A wicked glimmer illuminated his eyes before he let his hand rest against her throat. "You aren't going to be able to move when I'm finished with you."
"Just fuck me already!"
"Is that how we ask for things?" He raised a brow, staring at her pointedly
At that point, she was frustrated. For someone that had spoken of desperately needing to fuck her, he was certainly taking his sweet time. She looked up at him, jaw clenching. "I need you, want you to fuck me into the mattress like the bad girl I am. I can't take it anymore, I ne-need your cock inside me already. Please, I beg you."
And suddenly, he was pushing into her, bottoming out and leaving her speechless. For a moment, he didn't move. He ducked his head down to wrap his lips around a hard nipple, sucking softly, listening to the way she purred like a kitten. Oh, how he was going to wreck you.
Wordlessly, he placed his hands on either side of her head, looking into her face as he began to fuck her. Slow, hard thrusts, jarring her body with each one. The feeling of him filling her whole was unlike any other, pure ecstasy. She tugged at the belt holding her arms in place, chest jutting out against him.
"So fucking tight for me," he gritted out, pace quickening, hips now snapping against her roughly. She was practically howling beneath him, head falling back against the pillow as he ruined her.
"I love when you're inside me," she squeaked. "Feels s-so good."
His pace grew brutal, almost painful, fucking her so hard she saw stars, all coherent thought leaving her mind. She let him ravish her, running her right into the mattress.
"Rooster, please," tumbled past her lips. She didn't know what she was asking for. Just more. More, more, more.
Tears were springing to her eyes as she looked up at him, unable to do anything else but keen and gasp and moan. He reached back to shove her legs higher, giving him better range of motion. This allowed him to hit all those delicious spots inside of her, and it had her thighs quivering, her heart pounding, her eyes rolling back.
Bradley could feel her muscles tighten and shudder around him, and he couldn't hold back the groans that rumbled within his chest. His body was running hot, skin burning, cock throbbing. This was just what he'd needed.
"You're so wet, darlin'. Shit, I can feel you gushing all over me. You love this, don't you? Love me fucking you raw."
"Yes! I love it, fucking hell," She cried out, hands jerking at her restraint, head lifting from the pillows. The look on her face was killing him. Eyes wide, mouth hung open. She was enraptured. With a grunt, he wrapped both of his hands around her throat, and she couldn't look away.
"Fuck. Take it, take it all."
He applied a delicious amount of pressure, and her eyes rolled back. But at that point, her arms were beginning to burn like fire, slightly taking away from her pleasure. "B-Bradley," she breathed, "the belt."
Without a word, he reached up and undid it, tossing it aside swiftly. She let her arms fall, relieved that they were free. It gave her the opportunity to grab onto him, hold him tight as he fucked her mercilessly.
He brought a hand down between their bodies, fingers flattening against her clit, rubbing her hard and fast.. "You're gonna fucking come for me," he growled, "all over my dick like a good fucking girl."
She was clawing at him, fingernails surely leaving trails of red in their wake. Yes, oh yes, she was going to come for him. That familiar, tantalizing burn was already blossoming to life in her lower abdomen. She was shaking all over, convulsing beneath him.
"I-I'm right there," she squeaked, eyes wide, mouth open.
He grunted, hips jutting into her even harder. "Do it," he hissed, "come for me."
His thrusts paired with his fingers on her clit were quickly becoming too much, and as he captured her lips with his own, she was tipping right over the edge. She wailed against his mouth as she succumbed to the mind numbing euphoria, soaking his skin and the sheets below as her sweet release spilled from her.
Bradley moaned at the feeling of her warmth flooding against him, knowing that he would not be far behind. His pace was still relentless, and she could only lay there and take it, the overstimulation making her brain go fuzzy.
She could feel him pulse within her, the way his hips stuttered as he grew closer. She whimpered, clutching him for dear life, begging him to fall apart.
"I just want you to fill me with your cum," she whispered in desperation. "I want to feel you dripping out of me after you're finished."
He could hardly contain himself, fucking her so hard she swore she'd pass out. And with just a few more deep thrusts, he was done for, sent over the edge as he gasped out her name, fact twisting into such beautiful agony.
"Sweetest fucking pussy," he sighed against her neck as he came down, leaving soft, damp kisses over her burning skin. When he slipped out of her, she was left with an empty feeling, though she could do nothing but lay sprawled across the mattress, desperately trying to calm down.
A satiated Bradley hovered over her, fingers brushing over the side of her face. Gone was the hard expression of determination, replaced with gentle concern. "Oh, baby," he breathed, "was I too rough with you?"
Her chest ached at the tone in his voice, and she shrank into herself, suddenly feeling very small and needy. "No," she mustered, "I'm okay."
His hands reached her shoulders, and he was careful to massage the skin, knowing the muscle beneath was sore from being suspended by his belt. "Tell me what you need," he said.
"You. Just you."
He nodded silently, moving to slide off the bed. He stretched a hand out to her, gently tugging her to stand with him. The slick of his release smeared against the inside of her thighs as you did so. "Can you walk?" He asked.
Her legs felt like jelly. "N-no."
"Alright." He carefully lifted her into his arms and carried her to the wash room. He doted upon her, taking care of her as he always did after a particularly rough session.
After she'd used the restroom, he cleaned both of them up and tentatively dressed her in some clean pajamas before he pulled on some worn sweatpants. "You were so good for me," he praised her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her to him, lips ghosting over her forehead. "My good girl."
She nuzzled up against him as they both sauntered to the kitchen, where their forgotten dinner was. "I love you so much," she whispered, arm around his waist
"I love you too, darlin'."
She managed to unravel herself from him, motioning to the dinner table. "I hope you like cold stew, 'cause that's what we're having."
At that, Bradley grinned childishly, taking a seat at the table. "At least the first course was delicious," he teased.
She only shook her head at his remark, joining him at the table. Thus began their quiet evening at home, safe from the rumbling storm outside, and the previous stressors of the day. The weight had been lifted off of Bradley's shoulders, and he was able to fully relax, enjoying the presence of the one he loved most. She always did know just how to make him feel better.
Rooster had been to the clinic three times this week. It was only Tuesday.
“Doctor!” he called this time, barging through the door with as much grace as a plane crash, “I need help.”
You didn’t even look up from your papers. “I am well aware. Would you like me to refer you to a psychiatrist for evaluation?”
The man only rolled his eyes, walking the familiar path up to your desk. The clinic was empty for the time being, save for you. “Not that kind of help.”
“Oh really?“ You finished a signature, took your glasses from their place on your nose. “Then how can I help you, Lieutanent?”
When you turned your chin up, Bradley Bradshaw met your gaze with a friendly grin. With his tousled brown hair and dark flight suit, you had to admit he was a welcome change of scenery from the white walls and unsettling quiet of the infirmary.
“I told you, you don’t have to call me that.”
You gave him a teasing smile in return. “It’s protocol, Lieutenant, and you haven’t answered my question.”
“Right,” he drawled, gaze travelling over the small number of personal items by your computer. One finger moved to give a hard tap on your Darth Vader bobble head. He seemed to not know exactly what to say, and his next words came out lamely. “I have a headache.”
You almost laughed.
Yesterday, you’d given an aviator fourteen sutures for a gash sustained while punching out during an engine failure, and the whole time, he had insisted he was fine. Then here was Rooster, bringing you, the lead physician at the base’s infirmary, a complaint of a headache. This man would be the death of you.
“I see,” you said, deciding you’d play into the charade. “You know the drill.”
You rose from your desk, nodded your head for him to follow you to one of the empty hospital bed in the corner used for checkups. He did, bounding ahead of you in long strides and sitting heavy on the white sheets.
He looked at you at face level now, brown eyes expectant in a way that made you busy yourself with gathering your instruments. A blush crept its way over your cheeks when you felt his gaze follow your movements. You quickly washed your hands then drew closer to examine his head.
“Have you had any in-flight complications recently?” You asked.
Your fingers ghosted through his hair, and you could’ve sworn Bradley shuddered.
“No, ma’am.”
“Any unusual physical activity?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Nausea? Vomiting? Dizziness?”
You were running a hand gingerly over the back of his head now, meaning you had drawn closer, and Bradley turned his chin up. For a beat, your eyes met, and you hurried to focus back on your job, pushing away the warm feeling in your belly and the troublesome thought that he smelled like Old Spice.
Bradley’s look was knowing, almost amused. “None of the above.”
“Have you experienced a head injury?”
A pause.
“Would it count if I fell head over heels for you?”
You pulled back, trying–and failing–to hide the smile tugging at your lips. Bradley saw and smirked.
“Not unless you lost consciousness,” you answered. “Now, follow my light.”
You tested his vision, his reflexes, everything you needed before taking a final step back. You had enough to make your diagnosis, and your expression was somber.
“Well, Lieutenant, I have good news and bad news.”
Bradley’s brows rose. “I’ll take the bad first.”
“The bad news is that I am certain your headache is caused by spending far too much time around Hangman,” you said, “and I’m afraid I can’t remedy Lieutenant Sersine’s entire personality.” Bradley let out a loud laugh, the kind that filled the room. It made you smile. “The good news is,” you pulled a small bottle from your coat pocket, “I have Tylenol.”
Bradley grinned. “You’re a miracle worker.”
“So I’ve been told.” You shook a white pill into your hand and held it out. “This should kick in in about thirty minutes. Consider yourself cured.”
Halfway to taking it from you, Bradley stopped, curious eyes glued to your outstretched left hand. When he spoke, you could hear his surprise.
“Haven’t seen that here before,” he murmured. “Were you always wearing that?”
You followed his gaze to the wedding ring on your finger, a simple band and diamond that glimmered under the white lights.
You shrugged. “I usually have it on a chain when I’m on base. But it’s been a slow day, so I figured it’d be safe for doing paperwork.”
Bradley hummed and took the pill, swallowing it dry. He began to stand.
“Must be one lucky guy,” he said.
“Oh, he is,” you replied, leaning a hand on your hip. “Though sometimes he’s one lucky pain in my ass.”
Bradley’s brows rose a good bit, and he looked like he suddenly needed to make a hasty exit. “Right. Well, thanks Doc, I feel much better now, but I gotta get back or Maverick’s gonna have my head and then it’ll hurt even more.”
Bradley hurriedly gave you a salute before turning and starting towards the door. Behind his back, you rolled your eyes and called after him in a singsong voice. “Goodbye, Lieutenant Bradshaw.”
Bradley paused with his hand on the door and looked relieved to know your annoyance had been feigned. He shot you a boyish smile.“Goodbye, Doctor Bradshaw.”
“I was kidding, you know,” you added, gesturing around the clinic. “You can come visit me any time you want. The Navy knows we’re married and Mav was at the wedding, so you don’t need to make up excuses.”
“Yeah,” Bradley turned away again, the door slowly starting to close, and raised his voice enough to reach you, “but where’s the fun in that?”
Author’s Note: Based on this request from @hufflepufftruffle. I will fully admit that this was not an easy one for me to write because I hate the thought of Bradley and Mrs. Bradshaw fighting. Ever. But I hope it’s what you were looking for!
Also. Yes. The title of this one comes from the iconic hit “Baby Love” by The Supremes.
Warnings: Bradley and Mrs. Bradshaw fighting, which hurts my heart. But also lots of fluff to make up for it!
It was a stupid fight.
If it wasn’t your first fight as a married couple, it probably wouldn’t have even been that big of a deal. You and Bradley so rarely fought and, when you did, it was usually over something small that was resolved easily enough with a bit of open communication. But you were both tired and grouchy this time around, and so things had reached a boiling point much more quickly.
My theory for the chaos of the last week is that the God of Mischief is celebrating finally being canonically bi in the MCU by wreaking as much havoc as they can before pride month is up
Hiiiiiii i’ve been thinking about this for a while but i have no writing skills i don’t know when you will see this but if you dan will please write the christian connor murphy x reader as soon as possible and can it be a fem reader but if you don’t want to do fem can you do gender neutral thank you so much i really hope you get this
»christian c. murphy | hcs.
warnings: none
req? yes // no
notes: HELLO HI HI IM SO SORRY THAT IM JUST NOW SEEING THIS!!!! I haven’t wrote for Connor Murphy in such a long time, but I do have an old draft of headcanons that I meant to post for part two!! I finished it last night at like 12am so it’s probably not my best work, but this ask rekindled my love for mr hot topic. I have some other drafts that I’ll hopefully post in the future tho!!!!! :))) xx Ro. 🕊
- so you kinda knew who Connor was
- you sat near him in art class and he seemed harmless enough
- yeah, you'd heard rumors, but you didn't usually listen to them
- doesn't mean you weren't wary of him
- anyway you usually went to the 9:30 mass
- because you were in the choir
- (if you don't sing, you can be the pianoman or you could do one of the readings idk)
- (whatever floats your boat, my friend B).)
- but the head of the parish activities (go with it) wanted you to do a solo at the 8:00 mass
- and you agreed
- so anyway you show up
- and it's going great so far
- and it's time for your solo !! (or reading)
- if you sing/read, you go on the alter
- and you do your bit
- and that's when you noticed Connor Murphy near the back of the hall
- Connor ??? Murphy ???
- what in whoville is he doing here
- and afterwards you go up to him and ask where his family is
- it's clear he doesn't want to be there with you
- but man if you didn't get to the bottom of why he was there
- he tells you that his parents were out in the car and he had to leave
- and he does
- however, you didn't recall seeing his parents in the building
- so you immediately know he's lying
- you see him in school throughout the week but don't really mention it, or even talk to him for that matter
- and you're figuring that it was mainly a one time thing
- but you go to your regular mass the next weekend
- and you'll never guess who was there !!!
- it was Connor
- (spoilers: he was trying to avoid you, and he thought he was being slick by going to the next mass)
- (double spoilers: he wasn't being slick)
- he actually thought you were attractive (because you are), but thought that you thought he was creepy and weird n shit
- which you don't
- so anyway at the end of mass, you come up to him and try to start a conversation (again)
- you called him out on his lie about his parents being out in the car waiting for him
- and he was like "o shit she’s just becoming more attractive"
- by the time you're done chewing him out you're like "anyway want to smoke a blunt out back? I know a place lol"
- and he's like "oh just because I present myself as dark and brooding means I smoke weed?"
- "well don't you?"
- "... yes"
- you end up taking him to your smoke spot (if u don't smoke, then you just took him out back to talk about stuff idk I just wanted to write that interaction)
- and that was the start of a beautiful friendship
- or relationship (;
- idk how to end this so if you want a pt 3 let me know.
