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cherrycola27 · 2 days ago

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I, too, now need to make Bob curse while he talks me through several orgasms

Unraveled- Bob Floyd

Summary: Bob Floyd likes to think he can keep it cool. Then along comes a sundress.

Warnings: friends to lovers, smut, so much pining, language,

Bob Floyd didn't like to brag, but he considered himself pretty dang smart and sensible.

He knew the ins and outs of every jet he has flown. Hell, he could break it apart and put it back together again within a few hours, if that. He was able to quickly assess a situation, weigh the pros and cons, and come to a sound decision. It’s why he was the top WSO for the mission in Miramar.

So why has a piece of fabric thrown him for such a loop?

All Bob was trying to do was be polite. You had mentioned taking an Uber to the Hard Deck tonight and Bob knew the polite thing to do was to offer a ride. After all, he wasn't going to drink. You would save money. It's what any good friend would do. It had absolutely nothing to do with the crush he had been harboring since your first debriefing.

He was just trying to be courteous. The gentleman his Mama worked hard in raising. Getting to spend time with you, without the other members of your shared squadron around or loud music, wasn't even near the forefront of his mind when he made the offer. Bob was just trying to be a good friend. A good friend who just wanted to help. A good friend who was forcing himself to look at you through a platonic lens, not a romantic one.

Bob liked to think he was doing pretty well at that.

That is, until a dress came along and unraveled him.

Perhaps you said hello when you opened the door. You probably did, considering how polite you were. But all Bob could focus on was the way the fabric of your dress hugged your curves.

And what little fabric there was. He had seen you in civilian clothes before. But never anything like this. His mind absolutely went blank when you hugged him and he could feel how much of your bare skin was exposed. Due to the halter style of the straps, nearly your whole upper back was now perfectly visible.

“Um you-you look um nice,” Bob barely got out. He was too busy trying to burn the feeling of your soft skin into his brain. You were warm, like a walking ray of sunshine.

“Thanks! I got it yesterday and I figured with the weather being so nice, today was the perfect day to wear it!” you said, giving a little twirl. Bob tried to focus on the pattern of dress; how the green brought out your eyes.

But all he could focus on was the curves of your body, now being highlighted. The way the halter style made your breasts swell and the lack of a bra very apparent. How the fabric stopped at the top of your thighs when you spun, giving Bob a peek of what he often thought about late at night.

This was bad.

“I take it you came early to watch an episode of Love Island before we leave?” You asked as he stumbled walked in.

The truth was, Bob wasn’t a fan of reality TV. But he watched because it gave the two of you a chance to talk to one another. Just as friends, nothing more. When watching the silly show, you two could make jokes, talk about things other than work.

“Yeah! Ready to watch hot people make poor decisions again,” Bob said with a nervous laugh. The joke failed to put him at ease. If anything, it reminded him that he was about to spend at least forty minutes with you and that did not include the drive to the Hard Deck.

“You’re using my tagline!” your smile lit up your whole face. Bob was certain it could light up the whole turmac. All he could do was nod, his heart fluttering when you grabbed his hand, leading him into the living room.

"I have some kettle corn in the microwave for you! I also made cherry seltzer water!" Bob could feel heat rush to his face. You always remembered the little details that no one else seemed to pick up on; that he loved salt but had an even bigger sweet tooth. How in an attempt to cut back on soda, he switched to sparkling water. His favorite flavor was cherry because it reminded him of cherry coke.

"Did you see the video I sent you?" You gently squeezed Bob's hand as you two sat down.

"Y-yeah. You're absolutely right, having three otters would be my dream." Ever since learning about Bob's favorite animal, you had sent him every otter-related video you came across while scrolling the internet. You even got him a pair of Otter socks for his birthday. It was the fact you paid attention to seemingly minor details that made Bob fall head over heels for you.

But alas, you were a coworker. The problem at hand wasn't whether it was allowed, ‘incest’ (as Jake unfortunately called it) happened all the time in the Navy. After all, there were only so many things you could do on a ship before switching to people. No, it was the potential issues that came with dating. Rejection being the main one. Bob had no trouble believing you and he could be professional should you two date and it not work out. That happened all the time. What worried him was rejection. Having to go to work everyday and put on a facade, that things were fine. When deep down, he knew he'd be heartbroken. And even worse, he'd no longer have your friendship.

So Bob settled, as he often did when it came to love. He took comfort knowing he'd still have you, albeit as a friend instead of a partner. That should be more than enough. For the last few months, he had convinced himself that it was enough.

But God was it difficult when you bent over right to grab the remote.

The hemline of your dress inched upwards, showing off the backs of your upper thighs and-

he could see the swell of your ass. He could see the flash of red lace. Your skin looked so soft and supple and you were so close he could just reach out and-

Oh God he was hard. Oh no.

This was bad. Worse than that time he popped an erection during sex ed in middle school. There, he at least had a jacket and a desk to cover it.

But here? He was a full grown adult and San Diego’s seventy degree weather didn't give him any additional layers. Bob looked around, desperate for something, anything, to hide his cock that was currently straining against his jeans.

Thank fuck for your love of decorative pillows.

He grabbed the closest one, shaped and designed like a pomegranate. You were so excited the day you picked it up from some Facebook Marketplace deal. He had driven you, partly out of wanting to spend time with you, partly because he wanted to ensure you were safe. It was adorable and definitely shouldn’t be used for nefarious purposes, such as hiding a boner. This was wrong, so fucking wrong.

Bob was trying to think of anything and everything that would kill this boner. But his spot on the couch aligned perfectly with the entranceway of the kitchen, where you currently were, rummaging around to fix Bob a drink.

What ever happened to doors? Why were people so opposed to doors? Doors were lovely. You could close doors. Every time he tried to think of something, you were right in his line of view, turning every thought into something more devious.

His family? His family would love you. If you two got married you could make your own family.

Work? You worked with him, in that damn flight suit that clung to your every curve. No one else could make that god forsaken green fabric look good.

School? God, you were so smart. The top of your class. And witty, always ready with a clever, underhanded comeback. It’s how you two originally bonded, both having muttered something about Jake under your breath.

Bob Floyd was screwed. Thoroughly.

He tried to comfort himself with the fact that soon you two would be watching people in their early twenties making the dumbest decisions over dating. If anything were to be a boner killer, that had to be it. He just needed to make it through then.

“Bob?” Your lithe voice broke him out of his thoughts. Not that it was much of a reprieve, with the way you were standing at the kitchen entranceway with a glass of sparkling water in each hand, “You good?”

“Me? Oh yeah, I’m great!” He said with an all too eager nod, desperate to convince you this was truly the case. Fuck, you were so beautiful. And you were showing so much skin. He had seen you on the beach before, adorned in athletic shorts and a sports bra. But this was different.

The dress was far too nice for the Hard Deck. No, you deserved to be taken to a nice restaurant, one with a lovely outdoor patio. The image of you sitting on a lovely chair with a glass of wine in your hand came easily to Bob. It was also the perfect dress for a picnic, particularly at the nearby park, specifically in that little secluded area. God, the idea of you laying down on a red and white checkered blanket, the hem of your dress pushed up your thighs as he leaned over you, ready to take you-

Bob leaned forward, clutching the pillow as he tried to will himself the strength to get it together.

“Bob? Are-are you okay?” You quickly placed the drinks down on the coffee table, rushing over to kneel in front of him on the couch.

Oh what a sight that was, you looking up at him with big eyes, full of concern. Your hands were on his biceps, and Bob knew if he looked down he would have the perfect view of your breasts.

It was so hot and also the very last thing Bob fucking needed.

“I’m good. Stomach doesn’t agree with what we had for lunch, that’s all.” Lying was never good, his mother instilled that in him at an early age. But in this scenario, Bob was certain the truth was much worse.

“I’ll go get you a ginger ale!” Bob opened his mouth to protest, though no words came out due to seeing not only the tops of your thighs, but a flash of your ass as you spun around to go back into the kitchen.

For a few seconds, the supple, plump flesh was so close to him. Practically within arm’s reach.

Maybe he should just leave while you were in the kitchen.

But that would be rude. Not only rude, but it would raise your suspicions if they weren’t high already. Plus, he had already promised you a ride to the Hard Deck. He couldn’t just leave you hanging, not after you brought a dress for the occasion. He may be in dire need of a cold shower, but the last thing Bob Floyd was going to do was hurt you. He squeezed the pillow, knuckles turning white as he tried to find strength. For once, he couldn’t wait to start an episode of Love Island. Hell, he would even take an episode of The Bachelor at this point.

“Here ya go,” You sat down on the couch next to him, glass of ginger ale in hand. You even remembered how much ice he preferred in his cold beverages. You were perfect.

“Thanks,” Bob slowly took one hand off the pillow, the other still holding onto it for dear life.

“You uh, like that pillow?” You chuckled, though your nerves still shined through.

“Huh? Oh yeah,” Bob looked down, ensuring his big problem was still covered, “It uh, helps my stomach!”

You raised an eyebrow, though you didn’t further question it. Instead, much to Bob’s delight, you reached for the remote, clicking through until you finally landed on the desired episode. With a shaking hand, Bob gulped down the ginger ale, promptly placing it on the coffee table so he could have both hands on the pillow.

The room was silent, saved for the ridiculous conversations happening on the TV screen. Normally you and Bob would be shoulder to shoulder, laughing as you both narrated your opinions on the contestants. But today Bob was rigid, his fingers still clutching to the pillow on his lap. He hadn’t even touched the bowl of popcorn.

"Do you like my dress?" It took everything in Bob not to groan at your question. The last thing he needed was a reason to look at you. But how could he deny himself such a chance? So he put on his best smile as he turned to face you.

"Uh yeah it's lovely. I'm sure everyone will love it-"

"I got it for you.” Your voice was soft as you hit the pause button on your remote, eyes remaining on the screen.

The words hit Bob like a freight train.

"What? Why would you-"

You shrugged, fingers toying with the short hem of your dress, "I thought maybe, if you saw me in something different, something that wasn't my flight suit or a tee shirt, that maybe you would finally notice me?”

You finally looked him in the eyes, “Maybe you'd finally notice that I've been trying to flirt with you for the last few months?"

Bob opened his mouth just to promptly close it. He thought back to the last few months, now analyzing every seemingly ordinary interaction he had with you.

The way you insisted on sitting next to each other during lunch. As well as during briefings. And when you went to the Hard Deck. Whenever a guy tried to flirt with you there, you turned them down, focusing your attention back on him, continuing your conversation about his latest D&D campaign or a Lego set you had found that reminded you of him. The way you always touched his arm, your hand lingering on his skin as you bore your eyes into his. How you always texted him. How you baked a cake for his birthday. The little trinkets you’d bring him.

Oh god, he was a fucking idiot.

The tension in the room was thick. You, sitting restlessly as you waited for Bob to acknowledge what you had said. Bob, processing your words and what they meant.

“How long?” Bob asked, his voice soft yet firm.

You chuckled as you shook your head, “Honestly? First day. We hadn’t even spoken yet. I saw you walk in and you just were….not only handsome but also looked so kind? Then you offered me a spare pencil, made that comment about Jake’s driving and I….was a goner.”

“I saw you talking to Halo before the briefing room was open,” He confessed, “She said something that made you laugh and it….it was the prettiest sight I had ever seen.”

“We’ve wasted a lot of time, huh?” You both stared ahead at the TV, still too fearful to face each other.

Bob dryly chuckled, “Yeah….a lot of time. Months, if we’re being more exact.”

The two of you remained in silence, your words sinking in. Neither sure what should be said, if anything should be said. Until finally, you spoke up.

“Bob? What’s underneath the pillow?”

His hips shifted, involuntary, “What?” For a moment, he forgot about the darn pillow and the erection he was covering with it.

The cluelessness in his voice brought a giggle, “The pillow? Why are you using it to cover your lap?”

Bob sighed, “Can I at least kiss you first?”

You nodded, moving to close the gap between you and Bob. Pillow be damned, his hands cupped your jawline, giving you a sweet smile before leaning in, closing the gap between your lips and his.

Bob Floyd’s lips were soft, no doubt due to the sweet mint chapstick you'd watch him apply countless of times. You didn't want to admit how often you'd wondered about the taste, what his hands would feel like on your body. God, they were huge. His thumbs rested comfortably on your jawline, but you could feel his other fingers spanning your neck, down to your collarbone.

The first kiss was gentle, practically modest. Your lips were only apart for several seconds, if that, before connecting again.

You easily found his shoulders, grasping them for purchase. The gap between your bodies was too much, Bob wanted to be as close as possible. So his hands trailed down your body, skimming along until they found the back of your thighs. Using his strength, he moved your body, situating you onto his lap.

A high pitched gasp fell from your lips upon feeling the bulge that was straining against his jeans. Good god, he was thick. You had heard whispers, chalking it up to typical locker room talk.

Nope, those rumors were one hundred percent true.

“I’m sorry,” Bob groaned, hands exploring your soft curves. Worst of all, he sounded earnest, only making you want to touch him more.

“I-I wore this on purpose ah-after all,” you confessed, finding it difficult to speak as he pressed open mouthed kisses along your exposed chest.

Right. You wore this on purpose. To entice him. To see if perhaps he felt the same burning desire. Once realization hit him again, Bob’s hands moved along your back, just stopping above your ass.

Wait, he was about to touch your ass.

“We-we shouldn’t,” Bob mumbled, retracting his hands from your body. You stilled, a crestfallen look painting your face.

“We shouldn’t?” Repeating the words felt like driving a knife through your heart. Had regret finally emerged, beating the rush of adrenaline? Was he going to regret this, ask that you two never speak about it ever again, pretend it never happened?

“I…” Bob sighed, “I need to take you on a date first.”

Bless his heart.

Sighing, you relaxed your body into his, resting your head in the crook of his neck, “You’re too sweet, y’know that?”

Bob chuckled, “That's supposed to be my line.”

His hands gave your hips a loving squeeze, causing you to nestle further into him, until your bodies were nearly molded as one. Your lips searched for his, trailing up his neck, his jawline, along the side of his button nose until finally reaching his soft lips. Bob shifted in his seat, causing you to do the same. As a result, you could feel his erection, despite the layers of clothes.

“Good lord Bobby, you've just been walking around with all that?” Bob groaned, but not due to your words. No, it was because you had started moving your hips in circles, his erection now pressed against your covered core.

“I’m- I’m trying to be a gentleman.” Bob couldn't even look at you. He didn't want to stop. He should stop. Maybe you two could skip the Hard Deck and go out to dinner. Then he could take you home and not feel as guilty.

“You can be a gentleman later,” by throwing your arms over his shoulder you finally had access to his neck. His skin was so soft, so delicate. How could you not sink your teeth into his neck?

Normally you'd have better self control than this. But you were ovulating and had six months of sexual frustrations and wet dreams-

“You had dreams about me?” Uh-oh. That wasn't meant to be said out loud. Granted, maybe it was for the best to get everything out in the open.

Timidly nodding, you explained, “Yeah. The days I didn't sit next to you were because….I had a dream about ya the night before.”

A band had snapped within Bob, no doubt due to the numerous times you didn't sit next to him during briefings.

Within seconds, you found yourself on your back against the couch, the bespectacled WSO hovering over you. There was a fire flickering in his blue eyes as he remained laser focused on your face.

“After this, you're putting this dress back on and I'm taking ya out to dinner, is that clear?” his voice was gruff and deep, similar to when he did a hundred pushes that one day (that you definitely didn't think about while masturbating).

Chest heaving, dress pushed up to your upper thighs, lips kiss bitten, God, you looked like an angel to Bob. He remembered learning about angels in church growing up. How pious they were, that seeing them was a sign of comfort, that they would guide one to safety, to a holy life.

There was nothing holy about what he wanted to do to you.

His mouth was hot, searing kisses along your skin. Your back arched into him, desperate for me. But he always seemed to pull away before you could get enough. Would you? Ever get enough of Bob Floyd?

Finding an answer would have to wait, for now you wanted to relish in the feeling of Bob’s hands kneading your breasts. It was obvious you weren't wearing a bra, a fact Bob ob had spent forty minutes trying not to think about. He still felt a smidge of guilt, as though the newly drawn line between friends and more hadn’t quite sunk in yet. Was he even supposed to be doing this?

“You can keep going. I want you to.” You sensed his hesitation. In all the time you knew Bob, he had never taken someone home for a one night stand. He wasn’t like that. He needed time to build a connection, to feel comfortable enough to be himself. That’s why he loved spending time with you. With you, there was no need to put up a front, no need to be fearful of judgement.

“And then afterwards, we can order some Thai food and continue watching the episode, if you want. Or we can just do that now,” your hands cradled his jaw, gently forcing him to look at you. He found a sweet, reassuring smile, similar to the one that made him smitten six months ago.

“I think I’m falling in love with you.” Bob could be blunt, and often was when it came to his colleague’s shenanigans. But with his own feelings? He always chose his words carefully.

Hence why his admission took you some time to process. Bob could see it on your face; first your eyes widened, lips slightly parting as if driven by the need to respond immediately. But then your lips closed, your brain quickly gaining back self control.

“I’m falling in love with you too Robby.” You were the only one who could call him that. It was that familiarity, that intimacy, that gave him the courage to move his hands to your hemline up to your hips, revealing the thin, lacy red fabric underneath.

You were breathtaking. Always were. But this? This solidified things for Bob. You two had made a step forward in your relationship. Many things would still be the same. But there were now new things to experience. Simply another layer of intimacy had been added.

His long fingers skimmed over the fabric of your panties, every touch sending a spark of electricity along your spine. Every stroke caused a small gasp to fall from your lips, music to Bob’s ears. Lowering himself, Bob decorated your hips with opened mouth kisses. Finally, gaining enough courage, his fingers pushed your panties to the side.

Fuck, you were wet.

If there was any hesitation left in Bob, it died upon seeing how visibly aroused you were. He had done that. No one else. Lowering himself even more, he was now at eye level with your wet cunt. This wasn’t some vivid wet dream.

When his touch licked a broad stripe up your slit, a broken moan fell from your lips, echoing off the walls. It was the prettiest sound Bob had heard. He wanted to hear it again. All the time.

With more confidence, Bob begins lapping up your arousal, determined to taste every inch of you. His fingers dig into your thighs, pulling you closer. Looking down, you see his glasses are now crooked, though you highly doubt Bob cares, given how his eyes are half closed in pleasure.

Wait, was he grinding against the couch?

The discovery caused your thighs to clamp over Bob’s ears, your hips thrusting upwards to get more of his talented tongue. Bob wasn't reserved around you, never had been. But this was a new side to him that you had wondered if it ever existed. Animalistic. Devouring. Loud.

His groans vibrate against your core, only heightening the pleasure. Slowly, his right hand goes from your hips to your core, mouth moving to your clit as the long digits trace your opening.

��Oh my God, please,” you all but beg, not quite ready to admit how often you thought about his fingers and how they would feel inside of you.

Always thinking about your comfort, Bob started off with just one finger. You tried to fuck yourself with it, your own fingers gripping the soft strands of his hair for better leverage. The thought of making you beg crossed Bob’s mind. Would you like that? Would you be open to that? There were so many new topics to discuss, so many new boundaries to explore now.

You happily welcomed the stretch of two, three fingers. Bob found the little moans you let out to be quite adorable. He could feel his cock throb against his jeans, but pleasing you took priority.

“C’mon honey. Wanna feel you come on my fingers.” His voice was low, husky even.

“C-can you be inside me? Like your…your cock?” A broken groan fell from Bob’s lips at the very thought of being inside of you.

“I don't….I don't think I'll last long,” he admitted sheepishly. Hell, he could probably come just from eating you out. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. In fact, it sounded pretty good- bringing himself to the height of pleasure just from ravishing you.

“I don't think I will either,” you giggled, “But we’ll….we have lots of other times to go slow.”

Bob helped you sit up on the couch. “You wanna go to the bedroom?” He asked, thinking about how this could be more comfortable for you.

Instead, you shook your head, hands moving to his jeans, hastily undoing the buttons.

Now it was your turn to explore, to discover. There was a dark trail of hair that went past the waistband of his jeans. He wore boxer briefs. And Bob Floyd had the prettiest cock.

His face turned bright red at the compliment, “Oh it's…I mean it's like fine, but it's not-”

“Take the damn compliment Robert,” you all but scolded, eliciting a laugh from him, your favorite. The high pitch, near giggle one. The one that made your heart flutter.

Feeling at ease, you moved so that you were hovering over Bob’s lap. Your fingers moved to the base of his cock, making you realize you would have to ease yourself into it.

“I gotcha,” his hands found your hips, slowly easing you down. His sapphire eyes never left your face, searching for any sign of discomfort. He went slow, waiting until you made it vocally known you were ready for more.

By the time you reached the base of Bob’s cock, you were a mess. You wanted him to move, to fuck you within an inch of your life. But he was also so big. The stretch was nothing you had experienced before.

“Hey, we can take our time, okay? I know it's, that it's a lot,” he assured you, as though he could sense your internal conflict. His lips found yours, and in that kiss you found comfort. Bob grounded you, always had, whether it was up in the air or right here on your couch.

How much time had passed, who was to say? You could recall both your phones vibrating a few times, no doubt messages from the rest of your squad. Those messages could wait.

“I think I'm ready,” you whispered against Bob’s lips. He needed, digging his fingers into your hips to gain a better grip. With his help, you lifted yourself no more than a couple of inches off his cock, returning to the base.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” Bob moaned. You just made Bob Floyd curse. Something not even a bird strike could do. That four letter word gave you the confidence to lift your hips up on your own accord, returning swiftly. Slowly, just an inch or two, which became several inches. Up and down motions turned to swiveling your hips in a circular rhythm. What was once a quiet living room, saved for a few small gasps and the static from the TV, had now become a symphony of melodic pants and groans.

Bob could tell you were close. Your pussy was tightening around his cock more and more, your fingers dug into his broad shoulders, as if trying to anchor yourself. You practically whined at the sight of Bob taking two fingers into his mouth, wetting them with his tongue. He lowered them to where your bodies connected.

Upon first contact with your clit, your head dropped to the crook of his neck, unabashedly moaning his name, hips moving in a now frantic motion.

“That's it, I gotcha.” Fuck, we he going to talk you through it? Was Bob Floyd a talker? Ironic, considering at work he was known as a man of few words.

“Feels s’good, being inside ya.” Fuck, he was a talker. You were doomed, “Wanna, wanna make us cum. Bet ya gonna feel even better when ya soak- fuck- soak my cock.”

Your brain was hazy. Was this real? If it was a vivid wet dream, you never wanted to wake up. Was it wrong to hope that you were in a medically induced coma, so that if this was indeed a dream, you wouldn’t have to wake up so soon? Surely, your friends and family would understand upon meeting Bob.

Then he pointedly thrusted his hips upwards, reminding you that no, this wasn’t a dream. No, you wouldn’t wake up feeling frustrated and unable to look him in the eye. After this, you two could go out to eat, on a real date. Not some hey let’s get dinner that feels like a date in everything except in name. You could also order delivery and cuddle up on the couch. Maybe you could even shower with him beforehand, and see his bare body, find out what was truly hiding underneath that flight suit. Oh, he was deceptively strong, you always knew that. But to see it, to feel the hard planes of his muscles? Oh, that would be quite the joy to experience.

“Sweet girl,” you clenched at that nickname, you wanted him to continue calling you that for eternity, “Let go. Know ya want it.”

“I-I do,” you all but whined. Bob found the noise cute. What other sounds did you make? What would you sound like if he kept fucking you after you came? What about if he ate you out for hours? Or teased you until you were teetering on the edge?

There were so many questions, so many areas to explore. But for now, Bob was satisfied with experiencing how tightly you clenched his cock, how you practically sang his name as you came. Your release triggered his, pulling your hips down until they were flushed against his. His lips smashed against yours, swallowing your moans.

Then there was silence. No words spoken. Only the sounds of panting, you both clearly trying to catch your breath, and kisses exchanged, ones that neither of you could resist giving.

Realization hits you like a freight train. “I’m on birth control.”

Bob’s eyes widened, “Oh thank God.” He was usually so good about asking, about pulling out. But you….you made his brain feel like cotton.

“You saying you don’t want to have kids with me?” You giggled, pressing a kiss to his warm cheek to let him know you were only saying it in jest.

“Not yet.” You sat up to find he had an earnest smile on his face, cheeks rosy and eyes shining in adornment.

Bob Floyd was going to be the death of you.

So you brushed several strands of sandy brown hair off of his forehead, replacing them with a kiss, "Gotta get me a ring first."

Luckily, you were going to be the death of Bob Floyd.

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cherrycola27 · 2 days ago

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The Middle of Nowhere Part 4 Sneak Peek

I know I promised more The Middle of Nowhere this month and I am working on it! Life has been rough lately. But I do plan to have at least the next part posted before the end of the year.

However, I do want to give you all a little sneak peek at what I've been working on for Part 4 🤭😉 Enjoy!

Taglist:

Taglist: @nerdysuperchick, @mayhem24-7forever , @the-untamed-soul , @hederasgarden

@inglourious-imagines , @straightforwardly , @srry-itshockeyszn , @flyinlove, @fandomhopped ,

@wanderdreamer , @callsign-phoenix , @forever-sleepy-sloth , @notroosterbradshaw , @dezthegeek ,

@cherrycola27 , @phoenix1389, @smells-like-perfect-senses , @boringusername3,

@petlaufeyson , @cycbaby, @fantasticcopeaglepasta , @writercole , @onebigfangirlworld ,

@ravenmoore14 , @clancycucumber230 , @kmc1989 , @ohtobeleah ,

@sunlightmurdock , @sparrows-corner , @ryebecca @slightly-psycho-multifan , @mads-weasley ,

@trencher4lyfe , @merlehs, @sunshineflowerchild789, @je-suis-prest-rachel,

@shanimallina87 , @mak-32, @blue-aconite , @deppresseddyslexic, @horneybeach1,

@desert-fern , @withahappyrefrain , @roosterforme , @dingochef , @littlestatesman

@sorchathered, @idontcare-11, @gretagerwigsmuse, @toomuchfluffs

@seresinhangmanjake

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cherrycola27 · 2 days ago

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YESSSSSSSSS

November is over and you know what that means....

The boys are back! 😍 More The Middle of Nowhere coming this month!

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cherrycola27 · 3 days ago

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He's taken Indi-hoe, back tf up

Aim for the Sky Part 31 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Everything starts to get very real once you're able to feel the baby move. It's time to share the news of your second pregnancy with family and friends, but it's hard to feel elated when Bradley starts showing attention to one of his pilots after work hours.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, oral sex, pregnancy topics, mentions abortion, lactation kink, jealousy

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

If you weren't pregnant and exhausted, Bradley would have been concerned by how quiet you were. You seemed to need a nap as soon as you got home from work, and then you wanted to go to bed right after Rose went down in her crib each evening. When he got home quite late on Friday after working on some transfer paperwork for several hours, he was surprised to find that you seemed a little more upbeat than usual.

"Hey, Roo."

You were wearing a pair of his gym shorts while you made dinner. The house smelled delicious, and his stomach started growling as soon as he walked inside. He picked Rose up from her playmat, taking her into the kitchen as he smothered her in kisses before transferring them to you.

"You feeling okay? How's Nugget Part Deux?"

"We're exhausted. Rose is the only one with energy right now."

He supposed that was better than you telling him you couldn't stop throwing up. So far, baby number two seemed to be giving you less grief when it came to eating. "We can nap all weekend," he promised. "How was your day?"

"Pretty good," you told him with a shrug. "How was your day?"

He glanced out the back door at the enormous jungle gym, eyeing it up as an option for him and Rose to play after dinner. "Just busy. Everyone keeps me on my toes all day long. These pilots are really talented."

You seemed to wrinkle your nose at his words, staring at the food cooking on the stove as you muttered, "I'll bet they are."

Rose seemed keen on the idea of the backyard, so he kissed her soft cheek. "Yeah, I can barely keep up with them in the air, but don't tell them that. I've got my head on a swivel the whole time. Indigo and Rex nearly took me out today, and I had to go into a dive. And starting on Monday, I'm going to give myself some extra office hours to stay on top of my paperwork."

Instead of responding about his day, you started to dish out the food onto two plates with your back turned to him. "After we eat, I need to call my parents before it's too late. They're putting their house on the market next week, and I think I'm just going to tell them I'm pregnant and get it over with. I've put it off long enough."

Bradley's brow creased. "They'll be excited though. Right? I mean, maybe not as excited as me, but still excited."

You shrugged again, and he thought he might lose his mind if you kept doing it. "Aren't you at least a little worried there could be some sort of complications from having them so close together?"

A sardonic laugh almost burst from his lips. "Baby Girl, I worry about you and Rosie and the new baby constantly. Okay? Nonstop. But we can't go back now. You're already almost in the second trimester. Hey," he said, swallowing hard as you finally turned and looked at him. He held Rose just a little tighter as he whispered, "We're married. We're happy, right? You're not actually thinking about ending your pregnancy, are you?"

"No," you replied quickly, shaking your head. Bradley desperately wanted to know if there was some way he could make this easier for you, because he didn't want you to resent what was happening. But you just started crying as you shrugged again. "I just feel like our timing is terrible. And I know I have to start telling people, because I'm already showing a little bit, but I'm just so frustrated, Bradley."

He never dreamed the two of you would go from trying for months to get pregnant with Rose to being frustrated about a second pregnancy, but here you were. "I realize you've got to do most of the work right now, but when I tell you that I want another baby and that I'm excited about this, I mean it."

"I know!" you whispered quickly. "I know." You swiped at your tears before wrapping your arms around him and Rose.

"Is something else bothering you?" he murmured when your cheek came to rest on his bicep. He couldn't imagine what else could be the matter, but he needed to make sure.

You were silent for a few beats before whispering, "I'm fine. Let's facetime my parents."

For how excited your mom was to move to California, she didn't seem to notice that your eyes looked like you'd been crying. She kept talking about selling their furniture and packing everything up. She mentioned how much she wanted to see Rose in person as she fussed over her on the video call. Just as she was starting to discuss their new house in Coronado that would make them his neighbors, Bradley heard you blurt out, "I'm pregnant."

Your parents both looked stunned on the other end of the call. "You're pregnant," your mom said, eyes drifting back to Rose in Bradley's arms. "Already?"

Now both parents were staring at Bradley as he said, "Yeah... due in April."

"April Fool's Day," you said softly.

Your parents broke out into twin grins. "I'm assuming this was a surprise to the two of you?" your dad asked. When you nodded silently, he added, "A happy surprise at least! Congratulations. You're about to have your hands very full."

"It's a good thing we're moving!" your mom practically shrieked. "Two under two! Two babies! What if you have twins?"

"We're not," Bradley replied. Then he froze. "It's not twins. Right, Sweetheart?" Now he was a little scared as you turned to look at him and laugh.

"There was just one heartbeat, Roo. Just one."

His shoulders sagged in relief. "I mean, the more the merrier, but that would be a lot."

He let Rose nap against his chest while he rubbed circles against your lower back, and soon enough, your parents were ending the call with the promise that they would be in Coronado for Christmas. "We'll either be living there by then or we'll fly out for the holiday if our house here hasn't sold yet."

Everything sounded good to Bradley, and five minutes after the call ended, you fell asleep on him, too.

----------------------------

When you fell asleep on Cam's shoulder at brunch on Sunday, you figured it was time to tell him and Maria what was going on.

"I'm pregnant. Again."

Maria jumped out of her seat to cram into the opposite of the booth, sandwiching you between her and Cam. "Damn, girl! You've wasted no time!"

"Lieutenant Commander Mustache is working with some high fucking quality goods, huh?" Cam marveled, shaking his head slowly in reverence. "Congratulations."

"Thanks," you whispered, voice harsh and near tears. You had no control over your emotions. This was just like when you were pregnant with Rose, but with less vomiting and more fatigue. Everything made you upset enough that you wanted to cry or angry enough that you wanted to kick down a door. Including your husband.

You answered Cam and Maria's questions as you thought about that woman you'd seen around base with Bradley a few times. They were never alone, always part of a larger group, but you didn't like how she looked at him. And you didn't want to mention it to him, because you knew how ridiculous it was going to sound.

"Hey, I'm really tired," you eventually told your friends. "Do this again in two weeks?" You wanted to go home and nap while Bradley still had Rose out for a walk along the beach. You just wanted to be alone.

"Of course," Maria promised. "I'll text Bob to come pick me up, but you two can go on ahead."

"I'll wait with you," Cam told her, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

You made your way out and went home, leaning against the front door in relief when you found the house completely empty. Even Tramp and his yellow leash were gone. You ran to bed, curled up under the covers, and cradled your hand against your belly. It was impossible to tell if you had a baby bump, or if you were still chubby from last time.

Your thumb ran along the top of your leggings as you started to cry. You needed to pull yourself together. Did you cry this much with Rose? Did everything make you feel like you looked disgusting? Eventually you dozed for about an hour before the sound of the front door closing jolted you awake. Rose started screaming, probably hungry after being out for so long. You rolled out of bed, avoiding your reflection in the mirror at all costs, and went to meet them in the kitchen.

Bradley was trying to bounce Rose to keep her quiet, but you yanked your shirt off and reached for her. "Sorry," he muttered as your daughter latched on to eat as soon as she was touching you. "I tried."

"It's okay."

You fed one baby while you considered that her younger sibling was growing inside you, and for once, you couldn't figure out if you wanted to laugh or cry.

While she ate, Bradley looked at his phone and groaned. "Nat wants us to go to the Hard Deck tonight."

The idea of going out and pretending that you were drinking alcohol was too much to handle. Even if you could find someone to watch Rose, it didn't sound like a fun time.

"You go," you told him.

He glanced up and said, "I don't want to go without you."

A smile graced your lips as you told him, "Just go for one drink with your best friend. I'll drop you off and pick you up. You can tell her I'm pregnant if you want to."

"Really?" he asked, perking up like Tramp did when presented with a treat.

"Yeah. I told Maria and Cam earlier. I actually fell asleep on his shoulder in the booth, and when I woke up, they were both gaping at me. I figured I needed to say something."

Bradley snorted. "What did they have to say about Bradshaw Baby number two?"

"Cam is under the impression that you are working with some high quality equipment."

He burst into laughter. "I mean..."

You rolled your eyes as Rose switched to your other side. It was easy to feel better about things when it was just the three of you at home. You looked at your husband as he ate an apple in four bites and convinced yourself he would never do anything to hurt you. Then he drank half a beer and belched while he adjusted his junk, and you thought perhaps nobody else would want to deal with him anyway.

"I'll text Nat back. Then I'll pull the weeds around the playset while I decide what I'm doing about the bar."

You let Rose take a nap, but now that you'd also had one, you felt a little restless. Even after you did a few chores, including looking at items for a second baby nursery online, you wanted to get out of the house again. When Bradley came inside, stripping his sweaty shirt over his head, he said, "One drink. Don't leave me there too long, okay?"

"Is Jake going, too? Maybe I'll see if Cat and Jer are home and want visitors."

"That's a great idea," he replied, taking your hand when he walked past. When he gave you a little tug, you didn't move. "You coming?" he asked, clearly puzzled.

"Where?"

"What do you mean where?" he scoffed, tugging again. "To take a shower with me while Rose naps. Where else?"

It was hard to think about anything when your husband was on his knees in front of you, steamy water swirling around his tattooed bicep while his hands pinned you to the tile wall. But it was especially hard to focus on anything other than the feel of his mouth on your body. The scrape of his mustache. The pull of his lips. Soft and demanding and needy.

"Roo," you gasped, lungs full of the humid air, sucking in deep breaths as he looked up at you.

"God, Baby Girl," he rasped, thumb teasing your dainty rooster tattoo. "I'm so spoiled. Your tits look so pretty, and your belly will be big again soon."

You let your fingers drag through his wet curls, pushing them back from his forehead while he kissed the spot where you felt so tender as the baby grew.

"Roo!" you gasped, your hands both flying to your belly. "The baby! I can feel the baby moving!"

"Shit, really?"

His eyes were wide, alert with anticipation as you moved his palm to the spot where you could feel squirming. He eased himself closer on his knees, the shower hitting both of you with warm spray while he let you guide him. You felt it again, just another squirm as you pressed his palm harder to your belly.

"Right there," you whispered, and he closed his eyes. Your heart beat in your ears, an undeniably excited rhythm.

"I can't wait to feel it, too," he murmured, his cheek coming to rest against his hand. "You couldn't feel Rose this early."

"No," you agreed, watching your husband fall even more in love with the unborn baby. "Maybe another week or two and they'll be big enough for you to feel it." You played with his hair, letting him stay put until the water started to get cold.

-------------------------------

"I'll pick you up in a little while," you informed Bradley when you pulled into the parking lot at the Hard Deck. "Jake is already here, so I'll take Rose to hang out with Cat and Jer for a bit."

"Sounds good." He kissed you before unbuckling and leaning into the backseat to kiss his daughter. He was still shocked and in a mild daze over the baby moving during the shower. He wanted to feel those kicks against his palm, and now he'd be all over you in the upcoming weeks, looking for his chance.

"Have fun," you called before pulling away in your Bronco, but going to the bar to hang out without you was not his idea of a great night. He decided he'd just wait and see how the evening progressed before making a decision about telling Nat about the pregnancy. He smiled as he wondered how long it would be until you had to start wearing the maternity tent to work again.

"There you are!" shouted Nat when he walked past the bar, waving to Penny. "We're about to play pairs. You're with Hangman. Rack 'em, Rooster."

Bradley sighed and took the pool cue as she thrust it into his hand. "Can't I get a beer first?"

She turned and shouted, "Hey, Coyote! Get Rooster one!"

Javy saluted him from the bar as Bradley nodded and settled in to start the game. He and Jake wouldn't even have to try too hard to beat Nat and Reuben, but as he got into the groove of things, he realized he was having a pretty good time.

"You want another?" Jake asked him, and soon one beer turned into three. Bradley ended up buying the fourth round for his friends when Mickey arrived. He had enough in his system to not give a shit when Jake started ribbing on him for his new position at work.

"The way your students all jump to attention when they see you has got to be the funniest fucking thing I've ever seen in my life," he drawled, and Bradley nudged his foot, making him miss his shot.

"I'm still in shock that Cat agreed to marry you," Bradley replied before taking a sip of beer.

Jake rolled his eyes. "I'm surprised Angel let you get her pregnant. Shocked the baby didn't come out with a mustache."

Nat was cackling while Bradley snorted. "She's pregnant again." The words slipped out, but they felt too fucking good on his tongue, just like your body had in the shower.

"What?!"

He was instantly surrounded by his friends while Nat wrapped him up in a hug. "Are you serious? Another one so soon?" she asked with a suspicious looking smirk.

"Yeah," he replied, letting her squeeze him until he thought she might displace a rib. "Apparently I'm working with some high quality equipment."

"Ew!" Nat shrieked, letting go of him while Jake shook his hand.

"Poor Angel," he drawled. "She'll have another little Bradshaw on the loose soon."

"Whiskey shots on me," Reuben said, slapping Bradley hard on the back.

"Thanks, man," he replied while conversation about the baby settled to a normal volume. He drank his shot of whiskey, and that's when he realized he was actually kind of drunk.

The game of pool wore on, but nobody seemed to be keeping track of who won. So he kept going until his phone vibrated in his jeans pocket.

Baby Girl Bradshaw: I'm almost there. Rose fell asleep.

"I have to run," Bradley announced, dropping his cue into Jake's hand.

"You're so fucking whipped," Jake drawled. "Get out of here and knock your wife up again.... oh, wait."

Bradley gave him and everyone else double middle fingers behind his back as he walked toward the exit. He was tired and warm and buzzed, and he wanted to curl up next to you in bed and kiss the back of your neck. And maybe you'd let him look at your gorgeous tits. Maybe if he was really good, you'd let him taste you. The evening air hit his body, igniting so much need in him.

"Oh, sorry," he grunted, nearly plowing over someone in his rush to get to the parking lot.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," came a now familiar voice. Blue eyes flashed up at him along with a smile that kept growing.

Indigo was dressed in street clothes, but he tried not to take notice as he nodded. "I knew you'd find The Hard Deck without my help."

She laughed, bright and clear as he tried to step past her. "Don't tell me you're leaving for the night."

A little pout found her lips, and Bradley nodded. "Yeah. It's getting late for a Sunday."

"Come on," she whined, the back of her hand brushing his as he made his way around her. "Let me buy you one drink."

His mind was still gooey with thoughts of taking you to bed as he shook his head. "Thanks, but I really need to go. Enjoy your night."

Then Nat burst through the door, movements slowing when she met his eyes. "You left your phone on the pool table." She tossed it to him, coordination pretty good for how much she'd had to drink. She started backing up toward the door as she said, "You better go home with your pregnant wife!"

Bradley smiled at his friend, but he could feel Indigo's eyes on him as he stepped off the deck toward the parking lot. And there you were, standing in the first aisle with your back against the red Bronco. Your lips were set in a firm line, and Bradley was about to make it his personal mission to kiss away that expression.

------------------------------

That younger woman was here with him. You'd seen her around base plenty of times lately, but now she was here. At the Hard Deck. At your favorite bar in your neighborhood. She was with your husband at the bar. They were already standing there together when you drove up and parked.

"Who is that woman?" you snapped at Bradley who was clearly drunk. His hands were all over your waist and hips as soon as he reached you.

"Hey, Sweetheart." His voice was deep and sexy, and you wanted nothing more than to melt into him, but she was still staring you down.

"Who. Is. She?" you hissed, your eyes starting to burn with unshed tears as you stared back. Bradley was kissing your neck now as the woman finally turned and went inside the bar. You already knew who she was. You were sure of it. You'd heard him use her call sign countless times, but you wanted him to say it now. "Bradley!"

"Huh?" he grunted, meeting your eyes.

"Who is that woman you were just with?"

"Natasha?" he asked, and you wanted to scream.

"The other woman, Bradley."

"Oh. That's Indigo."

Your heart sank as soon as he confirmed it for you, but he didn't seem to notice or care that you suddenly felt like your skin was on fire. That woman who was still so fresh out of flight school was already a top pilot, and she was beautiful, and she wanted your husband.

"Baby Girl," he moaned next to your ear. "Let's go home. Maybe we can get in bed and snuggle while I try to feel the baby move? Or you could let me finish what we started in the shower? I'm already so wound up."

You opened the passenger side door for him, slamming it shut as soon as he was inside. You glared at the entrance to the Hard Deck before heading around the Bronco to drive him home.

-----------------------------

Either way, it still looks bad, Bradley. We are riding along with all of BG's emotions, and it's a lot to handle. Thanks for reading. More coming soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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326 notes · View notes

cherrycola27 · 3 days ago

Note

And when he is really needy, he'll ask you to cockwarm him and run your fingers through his hair while he plays with your breasts, and again, he cums from that alone

Thoughts on Bradley being touch deprived ever since his mom dies. I read a one shot about how he never realized how touch deprived he was until him and s/o were watching a movie and she started scratching his head and it just makes me so 🙁🙁. Touch deprived Bradley with physical touch s/o makes me go burrrr

This is actually cannon. I just know it is.

Carole was an affectionate mom; always giving hugs, pecks on the top of his curly head, rubbing his back to get him to fall asleep (well into his teen years). Then she was gone and he dove headfirst into becoming a pilot to distract himself from the loss.

He doesn’t realize how much he misses it until years later when you come along. You’ve always been a touchy-feely person and can’t seem to help yourself when it comes to him. A hand curled around his thick bicep when you walk beside him, plopping down on his lap when he’s sitting, kissing his cheek every chance you get.

The first time he sleeps over, he lays his head on your chest and he cries when your fingers begin to run mindlessly through his hair.

93 notes · View notes

cherrycola27 · 3 days ago

Note

My theory is that he could 100% cum from you scratching his scalp and mindlessly drawing shapes on his skin (and he has)

This is actually cannon. I just know it is.

The first time he sleeps over, he lays his head on your chest and he cries when your fingers begin to run mindlessly through his hair.

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cherrycola27 · 3 days ago

Note

He is the sweetest boy who deserves all the cuddles and will literally lay his entire body over you like a giant weighted blanket whole you run your fingers through his hair

This is actually cannon. I just know it is.

The first time he sleeps over, he lays his head on your chest and he cries when your fingers begin to run mindlessly through his hair.

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cherrycola27 · 4 days ago

Text

Decisions, Decisions 🥵🔥

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cherrycola27 · 8 days ago

Note

And now I'm going to re read Pink Christmas

EMILY! EMILY!!!!! Pink Christmas!!!!!! 🤭

https://www.instagram.com/p/DDkgc2ORmNl/?img_index=1&igsh=NmE5a2VqaDVsbm5u

OMG VONNY, IT IS!!!! 🩷 🎄

Bradley is the hottest Santa in the Navy.

13 notes · View notes

cherrycola27 · 10 days ago

Text

Yes daddy, fuck us on the desk

Asking for a friend, can we punch Indi-hoe?

Aim for the Sky Part 30 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Even though Bradley isn't as nervous this time around, his excitement for the baby overflows at your first appointment with your doctor. After he surprises you with something at work, you get hit by a wave of jealousy.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, smut, pregnancy topics, lactation kink, jealousy

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Bradley sat in the familiar waiting room at Dr. Morris's office. Just like before, your hand was held tight in his with your cheek resting on his shoulder, but now he also had Rose curled up against his chest. She was sound asleep, her tiny body rising and falling in a hypnotic rhythm that he was obsessed with. Even her fuzzy hair was starting to get a little longer now that she was over five months old. He couldn't be near her and not kiss the top of her head. It was actually impossible.

"I hope both babies look like you," he whispered.

When you tilted your head back to look at him, you rolled your eyes. "Rose looks like you."

"Nah. She's too cute."

You looked sleepy, like you could close your eyes and drift right off. "You're a DILF, Bradley. It's so annoying that you don't listen when I tell you that."

He was just alternating kissing Rose's head and yours, making you laugh, when a nurse opened the door and called your name. Bradley wasn't as nervous as he had been when you and he were here a year ago, antsy to find out more about Rose. He had the hang of this parenting thing by now, and he was just excited to hear a heartbeat today. The rest would sort itself out. You and he would figure out which room would become the second nursery. He would open a second college savings account even though both kids would get a full ride. He wasn't worried.

But you still were. He did his best to keep his enthusiasm at a normal volume when you started to stress about money or how exhausted you already were, but inside he was elated. Two kids! Two! If you would have asked him five years ago if he thought he'd ever buy a house, he would have told you no. Now he had a whole fucking family and a dog in the Craftsman.

Two kids under two would be a breeze. He just knew it.

"Right this way," the nurse said pleasantly. "You can wait in here. Dr. Morris will just be another minute or two."

Bradley let you get changed and settle onto the exam table while he bounced Rose in the chair. She was fresh from her nap, and she'd start bugging to eat soon enough. "I must admit, Nugget, I'm a bit surprised you're meeting your little sibling while you're still so tiny."

"He's lying, Rose. He planned it out this time," you replied, laying back with your eyes closed while he reached for your hand. "Your dad is a con artist."

The door opened, and Dr. Morris strode in, looking from you to Bradley and back to you. "I thought you were using the pill? What happened?"

You glared at Bradley. "Yeah, Roo. I thought we were using the pill."

He didn't want to point out that you were the one who left the birth control at home over the July Fourth weekend. "Well, you see, we were using the pill, but then plans changed." He cleared his throat and tried not to grin. "Dr. Morris, are you aware that the pullout method is not foolproof?"

She cradled her head in her hands before looking at him. "You know, I've heard that. Which is why I prescribed the pill."

"I missed one when we were away for a weekend," you whispered, drawing her attention your way. "And I'm really nervous that I didn't give my body enough time to heal after the last pregnancy," you added, gesturing to Rose. "And I'm still a little... heavy... from having her. What if I end up with high blood pressure again because of my weight?"

Bradley's eyes went wide. "You're worried about that? You're not even heavy, Sweetheart."

You shrugged, barely able to meet his eyes as Dr. Morris placed a soft hand on your arm. "Let's just give you a full exam, okay? There's no reason to assume the worst right now."

"Okay," you whispered, letting Bradley wrap your fingers up with his. He didn't understand how you could think you were anything other than perfect as you answered the doctor's questions while she turned on the ultrasound machine. Your blood pressure and heart rate sounded like they were perfect, and now it was time to find out more about the baby.

"Since you didn't menstruate after your daughter was born, it might be hard to pinpoint the exact due date."

Bradley cleared his throat again as the ultrasound wand disappeared beneath your hospital gown, making you wince as it was inserted. "Uh, actually, I can probably tell you the exact date and time of the... impregnation."

"You're not helping, Roo," you said, but a smile broke out on your lips. "God, I can't believe we fucked this up."

Then the baby was suddenly visible on the screen, and Bradley rocketed to his feet with Rose. "Look, Baby Girl. Another Nugget! There's the heartbeat!"

"Oh," you whispered, tugging him closer by your connected hands as you stared at the monitor. Tears shimmered in your eyes. "Okay, so maybe we didn't fuck up too badly."

"Everything looks great," Dr. Morris said, taking a few measurements. "You're about eleven to twelve weeks along. Let me narrow it down for you."

But Bradley already knew. He'd already done the math in his head. He was not at all surprised when she said the due date was April Fool's Day.

"That's not funny," you told Dr. Morris, gasping before bursting out laughing.

"I'm not joking," she replied. "Next year, April first. That's your due date. I'll see you back here in a few more weeks."

"Thanks," you whispered, holding tight to the ultrasound images that had been printed out for you. Dr. Morris gave Bradley a stern look as she walked past, and he had to fight the urge to salute in response. He was probably on thin ice with several people right now.

"I have to call my parents later. I wonder if we should tell them now?" you mused.

Oh, shit. He hadn't even thought about how your mom and dad might feel. They would love another grandchild, of course, but two so close together?

"Whenever you want to tell them is fine with me," he replied, taking the ultrasounds in his hand. The fridge at home was still covered in Rose's, so now there would be more to add to it. He examined the little nugget shape before showing it to his daughter. "Do you think it's a brother or a sister? Daddy doesn't care either way. I just love Nuggets."

She held the photo in her tiny hand as Bradley helped you get dressed again. He thought maybe it looked like you already had a bump growing, but he wasn't about to comment on your size, even if it did look cute.

"We have so much to do," you sighed. "You've got your new recruits turning up at work soon, and I'm about to start a fourth quarter project next month." A yawn overtook your sentence. "I don't know how we're going to handle things."

He didn't know what else to say, so he said what was becoming his new motto. "We'll figure it out, Sweetheart."

--------------------------------

Jake was perceptive, but Cat made you feel like you were transparent. Entering code while sitting next to her in the lab was tedious. Every time you breathed, it felt like she was going to figure out you were pregnant again. You swore she already knew.

You were past twelve weeks along. It wasn't like you couldn't start telling people, but you were still apprehensive to do so. But why? It wasn't like you were going to get smaller instead of bigger. Your pants were already fitting a little tighter, and you were absolutely dreading wearing that sad excuse for a maternity uniform again.

"Not the tent," you groaned softly, picturing the hideous, khaki monstrosity in the back of your closet.

"What did you say?" Cat asked, and your fingers froze on the keyboard.

"I said, I am intent on finishing this up today."

"Same," she agreed, her engagement ring sparkling in the fluorescent lighting. "I'm sick of looking at this project. We've been working on the same thing for months. You ready to get lunch?"

You were about to agree when you glanced at your phone and saw a text from your husband. "Um, actually, Bradley asked me to stop by and check something out."

"No worries," she replied, closing her laptop. "I'll see you in an hour."

"Right," you agreed, reading the text again as she walked away.

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: can you meet me in the outbuilding next to the tower? wanna show you something

"This better be good."

It was hot outside, and the asphalt smelled like it was burning before you got to the tarmac. The sun beat down on your back as you power walked your way to the building in question. It was just a bunch of offices, nothing else, so you weren't sure why he wanted you to come all the way over here. When you ducked inside the air conditioning again, you were sweaty and even more tired than before.

But then you saw it. A staff member was changing the names on the directory in the front foyer. One of them jumped out at you immediately, and your belly swooped with excitement.

LCDR Bradley Bradshaw (Room 117)

You rushed along the hallway, going nearly to the end before turning a corner. Room 117 was on the left, but the door was closed. When you knocked, it opened a few inches, and you saw his smiling face.

"You got an office!" you shouted, and the door swung all the way open to reveal a nice, quiet space a little bigger than your own. "Oh, Roo! It's swanky!"

"Swanky?" he asked with a laugh as your boots squeaked across the tile floor. "I wouldn't go right to swanky."

"You have a window! And a little couch!" you exclaimed, peeking out through the blinds to the tarmac. You spun around and looked at everything stacked up on his desk. There were aircraft manuals and clipboards, but there was also a framed wedding photo which was taken in the beach parking lot. And there was a photo of Rose trying to crawl next to Tramp which must have come from his locker. "I'm so proud of you."

You threw your arms around his neck and kissed him while he chuckled, but his hand slid lower on your back to your butt, giving you a little squeeze. "Not gonna lie, the first thing I thought of this morning when Mav told me was how cool my dad would have found this."

"Oh, Roo," you whispered, heart clenching.

"The second thing I thought of was fucking you senseless on my desk."

"Bradley!" Your voice was a needy whine, surprising even you. It had been at least a week since you had enough energy for sex, simply passing out in bed as soon as Rose fell asleep each night. But right now, your head tipped back, teeth sinking into your lip as you thought about how good he could make you feel if you let him.

One eyebrow was raised as he asked, "Do you want to? I have thirty minutes until I need to show my new pilots around."

Your hands were already on the fly of his khaki pants. "Yes." You didn't know what came over you, but you were horny as hell and absolutely needed this.

"Yeah?" he grunted, sucking in a deep breath as your hand delved into his underwear to wrap around his heavy cock. "Shit, Sweetheart."

You staggered backwards when he pushed you toward his desk, but he was gentle as your rear end met the edge. He'd be careful with you, that much was certain, but you were so horny, you wanted him immediately.

Bradley's fingers fumbled with your zipper as he said, "You know, this would be a lot easier if you were wearing your maternity tent."

"I was just thinking about that thing earlier!" you replied, laughing as you kissed him.

"Ugly but functional," he whispered, mustache rough against your skin when he mashed his mouth to yours.

You were left a moaning mess as his fingers stroked your tattoo before yanking your pants down to your knees. Then he was on his knees in front of you, looking up as he kissed your chubby belly, pushing your shirt out of his way. His lips were so soft, but his voice was raspy.

"The first quickie in my new office. Hopefully the first of many."

"Once upon a time, you promised you'd keep your hands off me at work," you whispered, his lips kissing along until his nose was rubbing your clit. "Pretty sure you lied about that one, Roo."

When his tongue dragged the length of your slit, his fingers tightened on your hips, digging in until you gasped. "You know when to take me seriously and when I'm full of shit. And right now, I'm so serious about making you scream."

He was. You could tell he was. Your husband was ready to go at a moment's notice all the time, and even a few days without fucking made you feel like he had some pent up energy that was going to make this explosive. Your nipples were tender and leaking into your nursing bra, but he didn't let you have a second to yourself before he turned you around and shimmied his pants lower.

"You ready for me?" he grunted, cock tapping your butt with excitement as he stroked your clit. Your hands were braced on his desk, and he nudged your boots further apart before guiding himself to your opening.

"So ready," you whispered. "Fuck me, Daddy."

Your body jerked forward, making you hang onto the desk for dear life as he fucked you hard and deep with one stroke. "If you weren't already pregnant again, you would be after this," he swore, withdrawing before plowing into you again. "Let's have ten kids."

"Bradley!" But he wasn't listening. He was fucking you rough, desk rattling against your knees and hands as he jerked the furniture across the floor a little more with each thrust.

"You look so good when you're pregnant. I wish you could see your ass. My god." He moaned your name. "Go ahead and scream for me."

That's when you realized your gasping breaths had gotten loud enough that they were echoing around the room over the sound of the desk moving. Bradley was relentless, his movements almost too much, but the steady stroke of his fingers on your clit kept you on your feet. A loud, long keen escaped your lips when you tried to breathe.

"That's it," he coaxed, rolling your clit between his thumb and index finger. "Just... a little louder."

His voice was breathless in your ear as his palm landed on your ass, the loud, stinging slap making you scream his name.

"Perfect," he whispered, cupping you with his palm, grinding the heel of his hand against your clit while you came. "Let me cum in your pretty pussy, and you can wear it to lunch with your friends."

That thought alone had your eyes rolling back in your head. You'd smell like him for the rest of the day, his sticky mess teasing at your thighs whenever you walked around. He did as he promised, fucking you until you were filled up, and then he dragged your underwear up your legs, keeping you full of him.

Bradley was kissing along your sweat-slick neck as he zipped and buttoned his uniform pants. But now you were standing there, so exhausted, you just wanted to curl up on his couch and take a nap.

"You're not eating lunch?" you asked, stifling a yawn as he helped you squeeze into your pants. "I'm starving."

"I don't have time," he replied, kissing you as he tucked your shirt in. "I've got ten new pilots to attend to, and I want them up in the air by the end of the week."

You held back another yawn. "Okay. Do you want to get Rose from daycare later or should I?"

This wasn't the kind of sexy post-fuck discussion the two of you usually had, which made you feel very conscious of the fact that you couldn't stop yawning. Bradley was adding pages to his clipboard as he said, "Can you get her? I'm not sure when I'll be done today. There's so much damn paperwork. I swear to god, the US Navy hates trees."

"Yeah, I can get her."

You started to head for the door when he looked up and asked, "Want me to walk you out?"

Yeah, you kind of did, but he already looked like his focus had moved on. "No, I'm fine on my own. See you at home tonight."

"I love you." He kissed your cheek and patted your butt with one big hand, and you were off in search of lunch. When you walked back along the sidewalk in the bright sunlight you considered just going home and sleeping for the afternoon. Would anyone even miss you? Perhaps you should just turn toward the parking lot.

"Hey!"

When you looked up and actually focused, you realized you were about to run into Cam. "Oh, hey."

"Want to split one of those super cheesy pasta bowls that we always say are bad for us but get anyway?" he asked, guiding you inside to the cafeteria as you laughed.

"Yeah, why not?" You wanted to tell him you were about to gain a ton more weight anyway, so it wouldn't make much difference. But you didn't.

"Perfect," he replied, loading one tray with enough food for both of you. "Then you can tell me how Rosie is, but first I need to tell you who showed up on one of my dating apps."

"Who?" you asked, covering your mouth as you yawned again.

"Guess!"

You started eating food off the tray before you even got to the table. "I don't want to guess. I'm too tired to guess."

"Fine," he sighed. "Ryan."

"No," you gasped. "From the Academy? Your ex?"

"Yep," Cam replied with a grin. "And he looks terrible."

You got to spend the next fifteen minutes indulging your friend in his gossip session. It helped that Ryan from the Academy did in fact look awful now, and you helped Cam swipe through his app options as you ate more than half of the pasta yourself. You were just finishing things off with a breadstick and telling him about Rose when you saw Bradley walk in.

Your hand was in the air, ready to wave him over and laugh at him for his inability to skip a meal when you realized he wasn't alone. There were several officers with him, none of which you could remember seeing on base before. You assumed they must be his new pilots from Texas. But one of them pushed her way to the front of the group, and your hand slowly lowered back down to your side.

She was beautiful. Young and slim with dark hair and the brightest blue eyes you'd ever seen. And she was walking next to your husband and laughing like he'd just told her the most hilarious thing she'd ever heard in her life. Bradley nodded and smiled down at her, his expression merely polite. At least that's what you thought. Now you weren't so sure. He knew you came to the cafeteria, so why wasn't he looking around for you? Why wasn't he checking to see if you were still here?

"So is Rose crawling yet?"

You turned to look at Cam in confusion, heart pounding at a sickening rate that made you want to throw up. "Huh?"

"Rose," he repeated, chewing up his breadstick. "Is she crawling?"

"Oh. Um, no. Not yet."

You couldn't look away as the other woman's smile seemed to light up the area around her, and you wanted to cry when Bradley handed her a tray before the whole group got in line for lunch. Maybe you really were going to throw up.

"Hey, Cam, I have to run," you whispered, voice harsh as you stood.

"Brunch on Sunday with Maria?" he asked hopefully, but you could only nod as you headed for the far exit as quickly as you could move.

You stumbled along, thinking about the way Bradley fucked you against his desk barely thirty minutes ago. He'd made you feel so good, but now you were outrageously jealous over some unknown woman, and you had to get back to work. You couldn't control it. Why were you reacting this way? This wasn't even like you.

But somehow you could just tell that something wasn't right.

----------------------------

Why do I have the urge to send Bradley to jail? Someone needs to be locked up for poor behavior, and it's not Rose. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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