#rooster’s guide fic

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Rooster’s Guide to the Great Outdoors

Your bestie, Natasha Trace drags you out camping, a trip orchestrated by one of her colleagues: Bradley Bradshaw, aka camper extraordinaire. Navigate the wilderness (and Rooster’s hot bod) while trying to enjoy your time in the mud.

A “Choose Your Own Adventure” Story

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

TOUGH- P.B PARKER

Pairing- Dilf! Cowboy! Peter Parker x Innocent! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 6.5k

Summary: Your school girl crush on your employer, Mr. Parker grows as you spend more time with him helping out around his farm, and soon he wants you to meet his friends for a night out at the local dive bar (to simply show you off :) )

Warnings: SMUT, consentual bondage, daddy kink, mentions of sexual activities, sexual implications, flirting, use of drugs, drinks and guns, slight dumbification kink, praise kink, breeding kink, peter just grabbing ur body/ feeling you up, teasing, swearing, age gap ofc (reader mid 20s, peter 40s) peter really just takes pride and care of his girl, making sure she is safe and satsified :)

" life's gonna do what it does, sure as the good lord's up above, i'm cut like a diamond shinin' in the rough.. tough"- tough, lana del rey & quavo

part two to save a horse, ride a cowboy - but no need to read to understand this fic <3

It wasn't the caw of the rooster that woke you this morning.

It was the feeling of a large, solid bicep that curled, caging your body in against another. His skin was warm to the touch, faint red farmers tan poking out at you as you snuggled deeper into the crisp,cool white linen sheets.

You felt Peters bare chest against your backside, the steady rise and fall of his chest soothing as you fought back sleep. The hands on his beside clock ticked, the minutes seeming to spin by faster then your eyes could follow as they fluttered open and shut.

Mornings like these were the best mornings you could've asked for.

They were rare, but they were precious.

The odd night you had managed to sneak out to visit Peter, which ended up with him taking care of you, from the beginning of the night to the ends of the morning.

It wasn't the cool morning breeze that slithered through the opened window that made you shiver, but the thought of Peter.

He had been teaching you how to ride, not horses- but him.

“Fuck darlin’ youre taking me so good. I know, I know-” he would coo as you whimpered, his cock stretching you out as he guided your hips to sink down onto him- to take him all.

“You’re doing such a good job honey, such a good job. You’re daddy's lil cowgirl aren't you? Learning how to ride me like a good girl.”

It made you squirm. Especially when after a while, he’d grow tired of your slower, gentler movements, gripping your hips and pounding up into you so hard you nearly fell off the couch if he hadn't been holding you.

You felt something poking out at your ass between the sheets, and you wiggled your body slightly, getting a low murmur from the sleepy older man beside you.

It was still early, and you knew your father wouldn't be awake any time soon, especially if he had been drinking. But you had cattle to tend to, and pigs to feed.

“Mr Parker…” you whispered, his arm still caging you in tightly.

“Mmm” he mumbled, eyes opening lazily, blinking slowly against the rising sun. “You’re not trying to escape from me, are ya?” he teased, pulling you in even closer, his morning wood flush against your ass, prodding at your lower back.

“I really don't want to leave sir I swear-”

“I’m joking sweet girl, I know. You have some calving happening don't you?”

You nodded.

I’ve been staying by them for most of the time when I’m not here. I like to think sometimes they like the company.” you smiled softly as he planted a kiss on the top of your head, then another.

“They most definitely enjoy it sweetheart. Especially yours. You're just such a sweet girl.” he hummed, large, calloused hands sliding under the sheets, down, down past your arms, slipping to give your ass a little squeeze before slipping up your little tank top to cup your breasts.

“Am I?” you asked, squirming in his grasp as his fingers toyed with you- a cat with its dinner, circling your hardened nipples.

“The sweetest. I just wanna keep you here baby, all the time, in this little bed so I can fill you up.”

You giggled, mind slipping from your duties for the day. His presence alone had your brain turning foggy, it was a miracle you could even think for yourself before he woke up.

But now? You were a goner.

“And why can’t you?”

He sighed, pinching the hardened bud between a thumb and finger. “Responsibilities honey. We both got them, and you're an independent girl.”

“I want you to take care of me though.” you pouted, giving him puppy dog eyes that drove him wild.

His tousled hair was soft between your fingers, his stubble harsher across his cheekbones. “Soon I will be sweetheart. I’ll make you my sweet lil cowgirl.”

You laughed as he kissed you all over, smothering you deeper into the pillows, his musky cologne engulfing you, lingering long after he had made his way to the bathroom, the sink handles cranking.

Cold water spewed out, captured in the same tender hands that had just cradled you as he rinsed his face. You called out for him, already missing his warmth, leaving him to stop dead in his tracks. You were fanned out on the bed- his bed, your body unfolding from under the sheets like an origami swan.

You lounged, eyes shut, your little shirt sliding further and further up your torso, tempting him. Before he could help himself, he grabbed his film camera that permanently was stationed on his old wooden dresser, the one his mother’s mother had before her, and so on.

Soon it would be covered in photos of you. His secret collection, a guilty pleasure of his favourite enigma that struck him down to his bones. You were a diamond in the rough in his life. You had consumed him, night and day. The way your voice sounded so sweet calling his name drove him to insanity.

The gentleness, the tenderness..

He needed to capture it.

“Mr. Parke- hey!” you protested as the shutter flickered a flash darting out between your heavy eyelids.

“You better not do anything with that, I look a mess.”

He snorted. “Was that a threat honey?” he asked, coy.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe hm?”

You shrieked as he set the camera down, taking a long stride before he was on top of you, caging you in as his hands pinned your wrists beside your head.

“You’re so beautiful my sweet… my beautiful, beautiful girl.” he murmured, eliciting a sigh as his forehead brushed yours, scruff grazing your neck as he inched closer to breath in the sweet scent of your perfume- always lingering on your skin.

You wiggled under him, attempting to free yourself from his grasp, and failing. It turned him on more then he cared to admit, to see you under him, almost helpless.

“Mr. Parker…”

“You know to call me Peter, sweetheart. You know what that name does to me.” He kissed your neck, once, twice and a third time.

“I should go… as much as I don’t want to…” you sighed, eyes darting over towards the ticking clock, hands seeming to move quicker and quicker as the minutes passed.

Your father would be awake soon, if not now, and that frightened you. If he woke up and found your bed empty…

“Come with me to the bar tonight. Please doll, I wanna show you off to all my friends, just to show them you’re mine.” he pleaded, seeming to make time stop completely, as you fell under his spell.

The way he was looking at you, yearning. Begging. You couldn't refuse. You didn't want to refuse.

“What time?” you asked softly, as he dipped his head back down to meet yours, a smile forming on his lips.

"Ten. I’ll pick you up at the house.”

You bit your lip. “You- you can’t. Father won’t-”

He nodded slowly, remembering how difficult your father could be.He would never allow it. Especially not with your employer. Though he was much… much more than that.

“I’ll sneak out again. Father will never find out, I’ve done it so many times, I can run out past the gate through the field…”

“Wait. Sweetheart, you need to be careful. I know you’ve done it so many times, and I hate making you do that, and putting you in danger-”

“You’re not making me do anything Mr. P- Peter.” you whispered as his lips brushed against yours. They tasted minty, the two cushions softly caressing yours, gente enough to feel as if they were a whisper.

“You don't know what's out there. So promise me you’ll be careful, I’ll be there at ten on the dot. Leave when you have to, no earlier and please, please bring a sweater darlin, it’s gonna be oh so chilly…” he trailed off and you smiled brightly with anticipation, cheeks hurting from the repetitive movement.

His forehead met yours again, a silent promise of reassurance.

It was sweet he cared for you this deeply. It made butterflies churn in your stomach like twisters, made your toes curl in excitement so tightly you feared they'd all stick together.

A drug you could never get enough of. A hope you were chasing, that this could work past the summer months that you meant more to him then you realised.

He was introducing you to his friends, that was a start. A huge start.

“I will. Promise.”

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

Mr. Parker was many things. One of those things was timely.

And truthful.

Not a minute past ten and his pickup was parked on the side of the road, nothing but red brake lights under the stars as guidance as you descended the old wooden fence on the other side of the field.

You had been pacing in anticipation all day, hardly able to stomach anything but crackers and cherries from the trees in the back. Braiding your hair just to unbraid it, to braid it again.

Peter had let you off for the day, he never really worked you- but of course your father didn't know that. So you were alone with your thoughts as you did your daily chores around the farm, tending to the sheep and cattle as the dogs nipped at your heels before darting after one another.

You didn't know where your father was when you got home. Asleep, you assumed. Or in town, to flirt with the general store owner. It didn't matter to you, what mattered was he was gone until he wasn't.

Dinner was quiet, not that you minded, just the sound of forks and knives scrapping fine china as the lanterns flickered in the dining room.

You were too focused on the night ahead, and what to expect. Or if you should be expecting anything.

No more than a quiet goodnight was said as you each tucked bodies behind wooden doors, and you wasted no time tugging on a little white lace dress, doing your hair the way you knew Peter liked the most.

You pumped the squeeze ball of your perfume, the little tassels brushing your skin and making you shiver as the scent hit your neck. The cool breeze slithered through your opened window, the curtains lashing out like branches in a storm that threatened to topple over the house.

Peter was right, it was cold. Colder than it should be for a summer night.

Normally it was stifling hot, the night time only allowing the temperature to drop just slightly. It had plummeted tonight.

You shrugged on a little cardigan over your shoulders, before slipping out the window, crawling down the large oak tree that lingered beside your house, threatening to topple over.

Now you found yourself here, whipping open the passenger door, laughing as the wind storm picked up, seeming to nearly topple you off balance.

The tires revved against the loose dirt road, gravel flying with the dust in the distance as you sped past your house. You felt like a teenager again, the way you were sneaking out, spending your night driving in cars with boys. Though they never treated you well- until Peter came along.

But he was a man you reminded yourself as you leaned your head back against the headrest, his large, veiny hand sliding over to rest on your thigh, thumb tracing little circles.

“You made it out okay?” he asked reassuringly, fawning over you as his eyes flickered from the road over to your body. Checking for scratches and gashes.

“Easy peasy.”

The radio hummed softly as his headlights flickered, and you listened to the sound of the turning signal as you gazed over at him. He was so beautiful in this light, it made your heart get stuck in your throat.

His soft locks blowing in the wind, the faded yellow beams in front of him illuminating his chiselled jaw, teeth tugging down on his bottom lip in concentration.

He was so soft in the night light, so gentle. Yet he remained possessive in such a comforting way, his hand tightening on your thigh as he turned a corner, or hit a bump.

“Are you warm enough darlin?” he asked, drinking in your little dress, and the shawl that did next to nothing to hide your shivers. You looked down, noticing your nipples had hardened on their own accord through the flimsy lace, from the chill wind or Peter's hands feeling you up- you couldn't tell.

“You’re gonna need a better jacket honey. You're a silly girl for thinking that would cover ya.”

You dipped your head and felt your cheeks heat as his teasing. You liked when he teased you. “Yes Mr. Parker.” you nodded, slipping your hand down to intertwine with his at your upper thigh.

He pulled a joint from his pocket, using his knees to steer the wheel as you endlessly grabbed the lighter from the dash and lit it for him. Smoke puffed out, trailing out the cracked opened window as he exhaled, like so many nights before.

It was routine at this point, lighting his smokes. He always shared with you, whether it was letting you have a hit, or by puffing the smoke into your mouth as he kissed you, simply intoxicating you.

“I’m nervous.” you stated bluntly as the truck rolled closer into the outskirts of town, where the local bar was. “Honey, you have no reason to be nervous, promise. They already love you.”

“They know me?” you asked.

“ ‘Course they do. Some of em might even try to snag you from me. You’re such a pretty lil thing they’ll want you all to themselves.”

You giggled at his claims, redeeming them false. Your nerves seem to grow as you pull into the parking lot, hands twisting at his fingers as if they were fidget toys. It was busy, though you didn't expect anything else for a Friday night.

The night was still young, and the party showed no sign of stopping anytime soon, people trickling in and out of the swinging wooden doors. Neon lights illuminated outside were bright, candy coloured-inticing you inside.

Before you could unlatch your seatbelt, Peter slid his hand to roughly hold your chin, huffing smoke between your lips as he kissed you harshly, teeth clashing against yours.

You barely had time to catch a breath as he gripped you tightly, holding you captive with his lips. They were swollen by the time he was done with you.

“Don't even think about reaching for that door handle sweets.” he whispered, winking as he slipped outside, cheeks tinged with pink as he took one last puff, before tossing the burnt end and crushed it with his boot.

The door was opened on your side, his hand holding yours as he guided you down from the high truck bed, steading you as you lept and swayed against him.

“My darlin’…” he murmured to himself as he took you in again, the heat of his stare sending shivers down your spine. The puff of weed made your head feel fuzzy, and you felt the heat between your thighs grow warmer as he lapped you up- like a dog begging for water.

A gentle tug broke you from your pink, doe eyed trance, and you mindlessly followed him inside, pushing past the little wooden doors.

Soft lights illuminated the room in a way that still felt dark and grungy, people in cowboy boots perched up on bar stools, or bent over with a pool cue. Some old country song trickled out of the speakers perched around the room, and your nose was overwhelmed with the scent of whisky and smoke.

You followed Peter towards the back of the bar, a group full of older looking men drinking beer over a hand of cards tossed on the table. Each of their eyes darted over towards the pair of you, one of them in the front smirking in satisfaction.

“So this is the pretty lady, is it Parker?” the man in the front asked, sliding out of the booth to tower over you, just as Peter always did.

“Bucky Barnes.” he smiled, hand sticking out to firmly grasp yours. You drank in his ocean blue eyes, the little tufts of grey in his beard, scattered like salt and pepper.

“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Barnes.” you nodded.

“Please hun, call me Bucky. No need for that formal silliness.”

“That's what I’ve told her. She’s just too polite I guess.” Peter laughed, his hand slipping down to your lower back, guiding you into the booth, atop his lap as you were introduced to his other buddies.

They were all extremely friendly, all having mini conversations amongst themselves while they sipped on their drinks, or smoked their cigarettes. Each of their hands were warm when you shook them, firm grapes from across the cluttered table.

Your attention was soon directed back to Peter, and a waitress who had so graciously appeared. “Darlin? What did ya want to drink?”

“Just a rum and coke for me please.” you smiled.

“One bill please.” Peter said before she disappeared back off into the bustling crowd.

“I can pay for my own Mr. Parker.” you frowned, annoyed with yourself for not thinking of saying that sooner. “I’m sure you can sweetheart. But I don't really care. Let me take care of you, okay?” he murmured in your ear, hitching his knee up so you had no choice but to slide back on his denim jeans, back against him fully to keep your balance.

“But-”

”No, no buts. You just enjoy this night okay? Are you doing okay, it’s not too loud in here?” he asked softly, whispering quiet enough not even Bucky, who sat next to you could hear what he said.

“I’m good. Do your friends like me, d’ya think?” you asked timidly, wanting his approval. “Oh darlin they love you. They wouldn't shut up about meeting you, they just wanted to see how pretty and smart you were in person. My words aren't enough I suppose.” he smiled, brushing a kiss just behind your ear as the server returned, two drinks in hand.

You thanked her, taking a sip from your staw, twirling around the ice cubes in the glass as they clinked against the side. Before you knew it, you were down three drinks, laughing so hard at jokes spewed from the other end of the table your sides started to ache.

A hand tugged you up to the dance floor, Bucky twirled you around in circles before dipping you down towards the floor. A smile never left your face, the room starting to slightly spin on its own accord, and you saw Peter eyeing the pair of you across the bar like a hawk, his cool stare never leaving the back of Bucky's head.

He had offered to show you around up towards the north, a place you hadn’t visited much but wished you had. “I’ll show you around.” he smiled when you asked about it, dipping you low again.

”When?”

“Whenever you're ready, call on me.” he winked in response.

By the time you had to call it quits to save your wobbly legs, you heard Bucky snicker at Peter, slapping his chest before heading back towards the group.

Oh relax Parker I wasn't trying to steal your girl, just woo her a lil.

He didn't seem to like that one very much.

“Can- can we step outside for a sec?” you asked, stumbling towards his strong, lean arms that encased you once more- a warm hug you very much needed.

“You need some fresh air darlin? It gets so loud, I know…” he trailed off, quite literally sweeping you off your feet into his arms. You curled in against his chest, feeling the sway of each long stride across the wooden floors, the crowd parting like the red sea as he passed them by, all of them gawking.

You didn't blame them. He was beautiful.

“Shh, shh” he murmured as you started to claw at his t-shirt, twisting it in circles to keep yourself steady. “I wanna shoot bottles.” you stated as the cool air hit your skin, and you instinctively curled into his warmth.

“You wanna shoot bottles now, do ya? Do you even know how to shoot a gun?” he asked, laughing. You slid down to your feet, looking up at the night sky, the stars twinkling dimly from under the rolling clouds.

“Course I don't. But you teach me.”

You heard some guys around the corner of the building laughing with their friends, the sound of cans clinking as they fell from bullet wounds. You had never shot a gun before- not really ever needing to, but you saw some of Peter's collection tucked away in one of his older storage buildings on the property.

They were vintage, slightly rusted but still in decent working condition you assumed. Peter had never shot a gun in front of you before, but you knew that he knew how. Your father had mentioned hunting trips with him back when they were kids.

Surely he couldn’t be that rusty.

“I’d teach ya eh? How do you know that I can shoot, pretty?”

You shrugged, trotting over to where the men had been previously, their guns leaned against the building.

“I’ve seen your guns.”

“Those are old. Real old, from my granddad. Brass ‘38s.” he said. “I still trust you to show me how.” you stated, toying with the barrel of a bb gun, swinging it back and forth.

“This isn’t smart while you’re drunk.”

“Not drunk.”

“So drunk.”

You huffed, picking up the gun anyways. “That’s why you show me so we don’t do anything stupid.”

“With you I always want to be stupid.” You smiled softly, pretending to aim the gun at him, mocking the sound of bullets flying through the air.

“Now you’re being stupid darlin. Don’t aim that at anyone, that’s the first rule. Though I don’t expect you to know that right now, in your condition.”

“You should show me Mr. Parker, so I can defend myself.” your voice was high, extra girly as you toyed with the weapon, feeling flirty to high hell. He chuckled, running a hand through his hair as he slid up behind you, hands wrapped around your waist as he leaned down.

“Stay around me forever and you’ll never have to defend yourself baby. You’ll never have to do anything again.”

You giggled, cheeks warming from the alcohol rushing through your blood at his remarks. He was so silly. You thought, but you wished life could be that simple.

You wanted to wake up next to him every morning, to the feeling of him deep inside, pumping his seed into you- breeding you. You wanted to fuck like rabbits, for him to stuff you full over and over again until you were dripping.

You wanted him to kiss you all over before serving you breakfast in bed, tending to your every need while you lay in his bed, legs spread.

Jesus Christ your thoughts were dangerous when you were intoxicated.

What did they say again, drunk words were sober thoughts?

“You gotta turn off the safety first sweetheart.” Peter murmured in your ear, his warm breath tickling your ear. You heard a soft click, and he guided your arms into position, hands closing over yours.

“Now look through that little eyepiece and aim towards that can there.”

You squinted, trying your very best to focus on the only can standing up on the nearby fence. It took you a few seconds, but finally you had steadied yourself with his guidance. Your finger hovered.

“And.. shoot.” he whispered, finger tightening around yours, the gun going off with a loud bang! The can crumpled in on itself quickly, the aluminium falling from its place. You squealed with delight.

“That's my girl!” he smirked, clicking the safety back on as you drunkenly wobbled into him, wanting to take the toy away before you hurt yourself.

“Did I do good?” you asked, knowing he did most of the work- but still wanting his praise anyways. “So good darlin, you’re such a good girl, y’know that?” he asked, slowly backing you up against the cold siding, caging you in his arms.

The gun was long forgotten, tossed somewhere on the ground. The way his eyes sparkled drove you wild, a hint of mischief but still a maturity- a gentleness eying you down, soaking you in.

Your breath seemed to get caught in your chest as you tilted your head up against the wall to meet his gaze fully. He was so tall, so big… and he smelt amazing.

God, you wanted to blurt all of this out loud. You couldn't keep your composure anymore… it was next to impossible around him. You melted like ice cream on a hot summer's day whenever you were in his mere prescience.

“I want you to fuck me.” you stated plainly, his eyes widening- a coy smirk forming on his face. “Is that so?”

“Yes, Mr. Parker, I really want you to fuck me. Please.”

Well he damn near fell to his knees at your sweet tone, and your puppy dog eyes as you begged. He could never say no to his baby, but he also knew the two of you couldn't do anything out in public like that.

At least not all the things he wanted to do to you.

But it didn't mean he couldn't edge you on a little more until you squirmed for him with want.

“Was that what you were so distracted with earlier? You thinkin about stuff?”

You nodded. “I was thinking about you breeding me, and filling me all up until I’mall sticky, and so tingly I can barely feel anything. And I was thinking about you pumping into me and hurting me in such a good way.” you confessed.

If he was only slightly hard before, he was rock solid now.

Fuck.

“Sweetheart fuck-.. I- I’m so much older then you-"

"Not by that much.” you insisted, hand slipping down to rub in between his legs, cupping his bulge between your smaller fingers as he suppressed a moan.

“You’re so naughty baby. D’you think about this all the time?”

“All the time. I wish you could fuck me now.”

He clucked his tongue, shaking his head. Your nipples were so hard they strained the fabric, begging to be touched by him.

“Such a dirty mouth my lil cowgirl. You gonna let daddy fuck you hard tonight?” he breathed, hand slipping down to cup your breast. Yesss. You wanted to hiss, pleasure seeping over your body.

“Mhmm. Whenever.. Whenever you w-want.” you giggled, his hands slipping down to your thighs, hosting you up to his height- your legs wrapped around his solid middle.

He kissed your neck, teeth nipping the skin as he sucked, leaving little marks that scattered across your skin. Before he could go much further, a presence lingered from the parking lot, a man leaning against a wooden post- watching you.

He whistled sharply, causing you to whip your head in shock. “Lovebirds! If you’re gonna fuck- at least invite the rest of us!” Bucky called from the sidelines.

“You couldn’t even get it up old man!” you shouted, Peter bursting out laughing against your collarbone. Steve appeared, whistling at your remark.

“Oh she got you good Buck. Low blow cowgirl.” he laughed, clapping Bucky's back, a feline grin on your face as you walked towards the pair, adjusting your shoulder strap that had slipped down in your little rendezvous.

They definitely knew you were not wearing a bra, if they didn’t know before. Oh well, not your problem.

“If you want a ride, I’d watch your tongue sweetheart.”

You laughed, stumbling over to Peter’s truck. “We’re gonna leave that here and get it tomorrow darlin. Mr. Barnes is gonna give us a ride home.” Peter whistled at you, smacking Bucky upside the head at his remarks.

“Mkay…”

“There’s not enough seats, so the pretty lady is on Parker’s lap. Unless she wants to be on mine-“ he looked over at you, winking. “I’ll make sure to hit all the bumps.”

“You pervert.” Peter snarled- walking him again. “I’m joking, I’m joking!” Bucky laughed.

“Don’t listen to him doll, he’s being stupid. He doesn’t mean any of it.” Peter murmured to you, as he guided you from his truck down to Buckys, Steve already claiming shotgun, while Sam and Tony were in the back, leaving one spot open for you and Peter.

Great. For your sake, he hoped Bucky did hit all the bumps.

It was stuffed in the vehicle, arms touching as if you were sardines in a can. But you didn’t mind being on Peter's lap. He rolled the window down, allowing the cool air to slither into the back, cooling your skin.

The other men talked about whatever while Bucky's headlights flickered on as he slowly backed out of the parking lot- but all you could focus on was Peter. He was still hard under you, you could feel his bulge through his jeans, straining against his zipper.

Your dress fanned out, leaving nothing but your underwear to rub against the denim, which was now damp. You clenched your fists, fighting back moans as Bucky sped down the road, hitting massive potholes that nearly sent your head through the roof.

You caught a glint in his eye as he looked back at you from the rear view, knowing damn well he was doing it on purpose.

“Hold on tight.” was all he said as he continued on- and you squirmed against Peter's groin.

“You keep doing that, you’re gonna regret it.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

Peter grumbled to himself, hands tightening their grip on your thighs as Bucky hit more bumps. He clenched his teeth, hissing as he rubbed against your panties, feeling the wetness drip down your thighs.

The weed had heightened everything tremendously; he seriously thought he would cum in his pants.

That’s some shit the guys her age would do- those immature pieces of shit. The thought alone made him hold you a little tighter, savouring the smell of your perfume and shampoo.

You felt delicious on him. He wanted you on his lap constantly. He just wished no one else was in the truck.

You laughed at something Steve said, as Bucky put his turn signal on, gravel rumbling under the tires as he turned down Peter's driveway.

Oh thank god.

“Thank you so, so much for the ride Mr. Barnes. It was so lovely to meet all of you.” you smiled, waving timidly as Peter opened the door, allowing you to slip off his lap and jump down to the ground, holding his hand for balance.

Peter grimly nodded, cursing your sweetness towards Bucky, that motherfucker. Bucky winked as Peter tried to subtly hide his boner as he stood- and failed.

“No problem sweetheart, just glad you’re home safe. Don’t forget my offer okay- you come around anytime and I’ll show ya around with Steve.” he nodded, and you said the rest of your goodbyes, waving to everyone before Peter slammed the door shut.

The tires squealed as Bucky put the gas to the floor, leaving nothing but dust in his wake. “They were really nice Mr. Parker. I think they liked me.” you smiled, skipping over to the front porch steps.

“Yeah, a little too much.” he muttered under his breath, catching up to you in quick, long strides. You squealed as he picked you up with ease from behind, draping you over his shoulder and carried you up the steps, unlocking the front door.

“Put me down!” you whined, letting out a yelp as he smacked your ass.

“Shh. And stop your squirming, you’re not going anywhere sweetheart.” he huffed, kicking the door shut behind you, tossing his keys on the counter.

The lights were soft and dim as he carried you up the stairs, past the closed doors to the one left open.

His bedroom.

You continued to squirm- defying his orders and you felt that sting again, the loud smack! echoing through the room as you whimpered.

You bounced down on the bed, wide eyed as you scooted back towards the headboard, legs splayed open. Watching as his hand cupped your cheek, thumb stroking your cheek mindlessly.

“You still want me t’fuck you honey?” he asked softly.

You nodded. “Use your words baby. Tell me what you want.”

“I’d like you to fuck me Mr. Parker. Please.” you added quickly. His thumb brushed over your parted lips and you opened them quickly, allowing him access- your tongue swirling around his digit as his hand forced you to look up at him.

“You’re sure?”

You nodded quickly.

“I wanna be so gentle with you darlin. You’re so sweet and soft… I just wanna be so delicate.” he sighed softly. “Fuck….”

He didn’t say he was still a little pissed at Bucky for his aimless flirting- not that it was your fault of course. Didn’t mean he didn’t want to be possessive though. He was mature enough he knew you belonged to him- he didn’t need that reassurance.

But he had to make sure you knew.

“That's okay.” you whispered, drool trickling off his thumb as he pulled it away, smearing it across your cheek. He chuckled lowly.

“You’re so good to me baby. Do you think we could try something a bit different tonight?” he asked, and you nodded.

Anxiety and excitement quelled in your chest as he started to unbuckle his belt, and unzip his jeans. You pulled off your little scrap of fabric you called a dress, instinctively covering yourself. It was a habit you tried to break- but you couldn't help it.

“No no, baby, show me.” Peter insisted, hands removing yours to reveal yourself to him. The heat in his gaze sent shivers down your spine, leaving you firmly planted in the sheets.

“You’re so beautiful. The gods write poems about your beauty, my sweet girl.” he cooed, grabbing your wrists, holding them out in front of you, planting a kiss on your forehead.

Grabbing the belt, he started to wrap them around your wrists. “Is this okay?” he looked at your face for reassurance, finding it in your gentle eyes as you smiled.

“Will it hurt?” you asked meekly.

“No, no honey I would never hurt you. You know that right?” he sat down on the bed next to you, stroking your skin in soft, calming circles.

“I know Mr. Parker.”

You knew he was your savouir. He would never- could never harm you. You trusted him with your life.

He kissed you again, the belt jangling as it was bound around your wrists. You wiggled your fingers, though unable to move your hands- helplessly bound before him.

And you had never felt so safe.

“That too tight for ya darlin?”

You shook your head.

“No Mr. Parker.”

He smirked, fingers finding there way down to brush your inner thighs, tugging at the fabric that covered where he wanted you the most. You wiggled, moaning as he teased you, his touches soft yet electric.

“Shh baby, thats it. Daddys gonna take such good care of you. I’ve got ya.” he whispered, tugging off your thong, throwing it somewhere to the floor, watching your back arch and bow off the mattress from his quick brush of his finger along your slit.

“Awh baby she’s so wet f’me. I’ve barely even touched ya, sweet thing.” he cooed, and you whined softly as he toyed with you.

“Please-“

“Please what? Hmm? Use your big girl words.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

“Please fuck me, please. Please.” you begged, squirming.

“Such naughty language. Tsk tsk” he clucked his tongue, prying your legs wide open as you fought to keep your knees together.

“You want me to do what you said earlier? You want to be full?”

You nodded.

“You can’t waste any baby. No leaking, okay? Need my baby stuffed.” he smirked, lifting your legs up, draping them over his buff shoulders.

“Do you want gentle?”

You shook your head.

“Are you sure?”

You nodded.

“Whatever my sweet girl wants.” he smiled, brushing his cock through your soaked folds, tapping your clit with the head lightly. You didn’t know how much more teasing you could take.

“Mr. Park- OH!” you cried out as he slid home, his happy trail brushing your clit. He wasted no time, lifting your thighs up so half your body was off the bed, getting the deepest angle he could as his hips began to snap into yours.

You couldn’t help but cry out, words becoming mindless babbles as he pistoned into you, hitting a certain spot that had you seeing stars. “Yeah that’s it baby. Taking me so good, you’re such a good girl.” he cooed, admiring as your arms lifted, hands over your head in the restraints as you attempted to claw onto the headboard, failing miserably.

“Aww poor thing. You got nowhere to go, do you? Stuck here just taking daddy’s cock. You’re so fucking tight jesus christ…” he trailed off, lost in his head as you squeezed him tighter, nothing but the sounds of the slapping of his balls on your skin, the sounds of your strangled noises and moans.

He couldn’t get enough of them, he never wanted them to end. Your legs began to slip from their position, turning to jello and he wasted no time quickly flipping you around with ease slipping right back in.

You moaned at the new position, as he hit a different spot- slapping your ass gently. “Atta girl. Cmon baby, make yourself feel good. Or d’ya need me to do it for ya since you’re so fuzzy?”

You mumbled something unintelligible into the pillow that sounded like “Please”, and he didn’t bother trying to make sense of it as he gripped your hips harder.

“M’so closeeee…” you hissed, clenching him tighter.

“You gonna cream on my cock? Yeah? Cream on my cock baby, atta girl darlin.” he growled possessively as you came with a sharp cry, soaking his cock.

He always let you cum first. Always. He wouldn’t be a gentleman if he didn’t. You were his princess, he wanted you to feel so good you wouldn’t even be able to remember your name.

Peter showered you in praise, rubbing your back soothingly as your legs shook from your orgasm, toes curling against the sheets.

“You’re okay sweetheart. Shhh that’s it. Good girl baby.” He flipped you back over, wanting nothing more than to see your pretty face. It was one of the things that got him off the most, seeing your eyes roll back in your head, your mouth let out those pretty noises while it rounded to an o shape.

Your chest rose quickly, up and down as you managed to catch your breath, head fuzzy.

“You okay honey?” he asked gently, forehead creasing in concern as he soothed you.

He always took such good care of you. Somehow that turned you on even more.

“M’so good.” you mumbled, meeting his soft smile.

“Well good. Cause I’m not done with ya yet darlin. Spread those legs again baby.”

[bradshawsbitch]

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎» ‎𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮

⁘ amongst salt water skin and silken sheets lies insecurities and innocence, but also tenderness and a willingness to learn...

› pairing; bradley bradshaw x f!reader

prompt; ❝  well,  honestly i’ve never really had sex before and was kinda hoping you would teach me.  ❞ and  ❝  don’t be nervous,  i’ll guide you through it.  ❞

word count; ~ 6.1K

× chapter warnings; loss of virginity, virginity as a normative concept, p in v sex, no use of y/n, smut, porn without plot, creampie, hair tugging, praise kink, innocence kink, corruption(?) if you squint maybe, rooster is a consent king

request; by @diorrfairy. I'm so sorry this took so long my love 🫶

disclaimer; I was rather torn with how I wanted this fic to go. on one hand I wanted it to be how I wished my first time was, yet I did not want to accidentally make it seem as if this is how a 'first time' is supposed to be, if that makes sense. I therefore tried to make it realistic in the way I experienced sex for the first time, but still making it softer, and sweeter, and the way I figure I'd want a first time with someone you love to be. for me sex hurt the first like five times but also my first bf was 6'5 and he was fucking huge so like yeehaw.

tagging people who might like; @roleycoleyland @roosterforme @lewmagoo @theharddeck @seresinsweetie @sebsxphia @rhettabbotts

Being with Bradley was easy. It was sunny, comfortable, and safe. The soft gaze of the aviator could turn your knees weak in a heartbeat. The way he touched you, the way he listened and understood you - and most of all, the way he never pushed you harder than needed to explore new things if you didn’t want to.

Previously, in all relationships you’d had - whether platonic or romantic, you found that people pushed you. Pushed you to participate in things you maybe weren’t entirely ready for, or didn’t wholly feel comfortable with. Like the first time you got drunk, even though you’d told your friends you’d rather just try one beer and then drink soda. 

Bradley, however, understood the need for you to feel comfortable and safe. He understood that you needed time to contemplate, to reflect, and to sort of turn and twist an event in your mind a few times before throwing yourself headfirst into it. 

So, when the two of you started getting serious, and you, with heat rising to your face, confessed that you ‘hadn’t done much’ in the sexual department, his amber gaze had softened. He’d smiled softly, cradled your cheek in one of his large palms, and placed a tender kiss upon your lips as he promised to take everything in the pace you deemed appropriate.

He wasn’t in a hurry, he’d said before enveloping you in his arms, letting you nuzzle your face into his chest and his safe embrace. Inhaling his scent and feeling his strong arms and hands holding you so delicately, you truly felt safe in his promise not to rush anything.

Bradley had not quite understood your timidness when telling him about not having too much experience. He figured maybe you’d fooled around a little in college with some boys or girls, but that you hadn’t had too many mind blowing sexual encounters. As beautiful and kind as you were, Rooster had a hard time imagining anything else. However, his mother had raised him to always respect a ladies wishes - however small or big that wish was, and he was nothing if not a caring soul himself. He always wanted you to feel safe with him, wanted you to feel you could confide in him, and lay worries and hardships for him to carry with you. 

Which was why he was perfectly content to spend lazy afternoons making out with you straddled on his lap, only sneaking in a squeeze of your ass sporadically - keeping his hands placed gently on your waist, only ever letting them grace slowly upwards to your ribcage and to the wire of your bra. The small little noises you made drove him wild, but he wouldn’t be the person to push you. No, Bradley was more than willing to wait until you asked him to touch you. 

However, as compassionate and patient a man as Bradley was - he was also a little insecure. He had never felt the way he did with you, and he was glad that you both seemed to be on the same page of slowly cherishing each other’s comfort. Felt secure in that this was something you both felt was something special.

Your relationship was not something that needed to be rushed, because both of you felt that this might be it. But one human can only take so many rejections before they start to wonder if it was something that they did wrong. Had he been pushy? Had he made you feel so uncomfortable that even after months of dating you didn’t want him? Or was it simply the fact that you didn’t find him attractive or arousing enough?

These thoughts swirled and tainted the most noble of intentions within Bradley. He so badly wanted you to feel the way he did about you, that it somewhat clouded his perception. Every sweet, bashful smile as you pulled away from him turned into a confirmation that there was something he was doing wrong.

Perhaps you were not a person who wanted what he wanted. He would be okay with that if that were the case, but as he pondered these possibilities in bed after a particularly nice day at the beach with you, he realized that the best way to go about it was to talk about it. 

He smiled as he reminisced on your walk, feet bare in the sand. His heart did double-time as he remembered the way your eyes sparkled, and the way you’d pulled on his hand to draw him into the water with you. Covered in sand and salt water, the two of you had spent the majority of the day in each other's arms (when you were not indulged in very serious bouts of splashing wars) before retreating to Bradley’s home. 

Which was how Bradley found himself perched on his bed after a nice shower to wash away the sand and salt, feeling content with the conclusion he had come to. The water was still running, as you were washing away the day as well, further fuelling Bradley’s thoughts. He was torn from them when you emerged, clad in a large, white, oversized silken button-up. It was rather old, and some of the buttons were missing. Your skin looked soft as it gleamed in the glow of the evening light. Looking at you, Bradley couldn’t help the soft smile that stretched across his lips as he raised his arms to signal he wanted you near. 

Mimicking his smile, you happily straddled his lap, making yourself comfortable before holding up a small container that Rooster hadn’t noticed before. 

“What’s that?” his voice was low, as if the energy of the room shouldn’t be disturbed by loud talking. Fingertips dipped into white cream, before gently ghosting across the skin of his face. 

“It’s to soothe the skin, baby,” you explained softly, massaging the cool cream onto Bradley’s warm face. He hummed in reply, letting his hands grasp your hips, running his thumb up and down over the soft silken material. His eyes fluttered shut as you carefully made sure that every surface of his skin was carefully covered, even going down to cover his throat and neck. 

“All done.” was whispered against his lips, punctured by the soft feel of your plush lips upon his. Your chest had fallen closer to his bare upper body, and the small container now found its resting place on his nightstand as your hands splayed on his pecs and shoulders. 

You deepened the kiss, your tongue curiously exploring and wetting Bradley’s lips before meeting his own tongue slowly. Bradley couldn’t help the groan that escaped him as you pressed closer to him, your tongue so languidly moving with his own, couldn’t help gripping  your hips just a little tighter at the small noises you were emitting whilst hesitantly rolling your hips against his grown hard-on. 

“Sweets…” Bradley rasped, breaking the kiss. Normally, you would look down and look bashful, but this time your lips traveled across his jaw, fluttering over his pulse point as you hummed in acknowledgement. As you reached a particularly sensitive point and nipped softly, Bradley let out a low moan, his hands moving up your waist before they skimmed back down to let them rest on the globes of your ass. Kneading and grasping he groaned again, not noticing the way you had stopped kissing his neck. 

Tensing ever so slightly, you sat up from your position, looking down as nerves fluttered restlessly in your stomach.

“Honey,” Bradley’s voice was soft “talk to me, please. Am I doing something wrong? Do I make you uncomfortable?” his fingers gently asked you to look him in the eye from their place at your chin. Blinking, a small crease formed between your brows. 

“N-no, never! I’ve never felt as safe as I do when I’m with you.” the answer came to you easy, spilling truthfully from your lips as you looked into your boyfriend’s amber eyes. 

“Why do you ask that?” 

“I can feel how tense you are sometimes when we’re like this… you always pull away from me darlin’, and I just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page, okay? You can tell me anything. If I’ve done something, or if you just don’t feel like ever doing anything– or if I’m not, y’know, doing enough to turn you on–” he was rambling. He knew he was and yet he couldn’t stop; his worries and anxieties coming out in a way he didn’t want them to. He was almost thankful when you cut him off.

“Bradley, do you think I don’t want to have sex with you because you don’t turn me on enough?” if you weren’t feeling nervous butterflies in your stomach at the aspect of actually feeling ready for taking this step with Bradley, you would have laughed. 

“I don’t know… Maybe? Mostly I’ve been worried that I have made you feel unsafe with me. Or that I’ve done something to make you feel as if you don’t want that part of our relationship like that,” it was Bradley’s turn to look bashful. Saying it out loud always made you realize how bizarre some of your thoughts could sound. 

“Honey…” you smiled, leaning into your boyfriend again “I– I just… you know I told you how I haven’t done much?” Bradley nodded. 

“Of course. I am in no way trying to rush you - I totally understand you may have had other experiences with sex before that makes this uncomfortable and–”

“No, Bradley.” you groaned “you don’t understand–” sighing, you paused for a moment. Maybe it would be better to spell it out. “well… honestly, I’ve never really had sex before–” 

Silence hung between two lovers, Bradley’s brows raising slightly in surprise, a feeling of deep guilt settling uncomfortably in his chest. 

“Honey… I am so sorry. I never meant– I mean, I figured you must have, you’re so out of this world beautiful…” Bradley looked at you, his eyes soft and filled with love. “I’m sorry, my darling, I just wanted to know if there was something I had done - I will wait for as long as you need,” he straightened up to place his lips upon yours in a soft kiss. 

Shaking your head, you broke the kiss, smiling softly at him. 

“And– I was kinda hoping you would teach me,” you finished your interrupted sentence, letting your fingers sneak into the hair at the nape of Bradley’s neck, tugging and twirling strands of hair there to ease your nerves. Again, Bradley looked at you with such adoration and love that it nearly took your breath away. His hands were back to soothingly rubbing your sides and hips, the way he held you making you feel precious and secure. 

“Darling…” his voice was low but riddled with unspoken emotions, one of his hands moving to cradle your cheek “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want okay. I’m not going anywhere.” his assurance meant the world to you, but you’d felt ready for some time now. 

Mulling it over as you first noticed that when the two of you had ended up entangled in bed, or on the sofa, it didn’t make you feel as panicked as it had in the beginning. It felt exhilarating now. It felt like something you wanted. Something you desperately needed with Bradley. 

“I really want to.” your voice was firm in its choice, and Bradley sat up more from his position reclined against the headrest to be able to place his lips all over your throat. 

“I really want you…” Bradley murmured against your skin as his lips skimmed over the parts he knew had you the most breathless. It drew the tiniest of gasps, followed by a high pitched whimper from you the way he spoke so huskily, so close to your ear, his warm breath momentarily dizzying you. 

“Bradley…” you mewled softly “Please!” Bradley’s head was spinning from the sheer thought of loving you like this, but hearing your sweet plea made his breath hitch in his throat, his hard-on jolting slightly in his boxers at the words. Perhaps he should feel some type of embarrassment over that reaction, but he couldn’t find it in him to do so. Not when you were perched on his lap, clad in a loose fitting silken shirt, looking like the divines themselves. 

“You say stop and we do, okay?” Bradley searched your eyes, and you nodded, tucking your bottom lip between teeth as anticipation swirled through you. “Gotta hear you say it, honey,” Rooster smirked, reaching up to gently let his thumb draw out your bottom lip from between your teeth. That single act had your breath hitching as he let his thumb trace your lip. 

“I say stop and we stop.” you confirmed and Bradley smiled up at you 

“Good girl.” 

Blinking slowly, you took in the two soft spoken words that had drawn out the most sinful sound from your lips. “Oh, God,” you whispered softly, face heating up in embarrassment. Bradley gently shushed you, before letting his hand inch up your ribcage, his thumbs gracing the underside of your breasts. 

“It’s okay, little dove. It’s normal to react this way, alright? Nothing to be embarrassed about.” his voice was so soft, so soothing, that it made you keen even more, needing him closer to you. 

“You have no idea how much it turns me on to see you react to me like this…” Bradley wanted you to know that there was nothing shameful in the way you were reacting, and he desperately needed you to understand he never wanted you to suppress any sounds or feelings that might arise between the two of you. He wanted to see it all, hear it all, experience you and your love in its purest form. 

His hands wandered ever so slightly further up, gently letting his palm encompass the swell of your breasts in his hands, eyes flitting up to yours to see your reaction to the advancement. Letting out a stuttered breath, you let your head tip back at the sensation of his hands warming the silk against your skin.

As Rooster gently kneaded and pressed against your flesh, another breathy moan spilled from your parted lips. As he let his fingers gently pinch at your pebbled nipple, you cried out, suddenly feeling the need to move. You rocked hesitantly in Bradley’s lap, and another relieved whine left your lips as his hard-on rubbed against your damp underwear. 

“Fuck, honey… you’re so beautiful,” Bradley grunted out, trying to hold himself back and not grip your hips and grind you harder down on to him. He truly did believe you had never looked as beautiful as you were now, breath labored, skin glowing in the light that managed to flitter into the room, gently rocking against his lap. He whispered praises against your sternum as his hands slowly kneaded your sensitive flesh, his hot breath fanning over the exposed skin as the shoulder of your night shirt slid down your arm to reveal your breasts. 

Bradley took his time kissing and loving your chest, his large hands working up and down your sides, squeezing at your breasts before letting his tongue flutter over hardened nipples, teasing you as you let out soft, high pitched noises. Your brows were furrowed together, eyelids fluttered closed as you moved your hips down on him, panting slightly from the pleasure of his hard cock brushing your clothed clit every so often. 

“So pretty…” Bradley murmured before he sucked one nipple into his mouth, groaning at the feel of his lips wrapped around your flesh, relishing in the cry it drew from you, reeling at your body reacting by collapsing closer to him, a hand flying to grasp and tug at his hair. You were pulling him closer, and your movement was starting to become a little frazzled as you were overcome by the pleasure Bradley was giving you. 

“Brad–” you were gasping, almost clawing at the back of his head, not sure if you wanted to push him closer to your chest or tug him away. Squirming in your boyfriends’ lap you cried out again, whimpering softly over and over again as you felt his lips release the nipple he had been sucking on, moving to give the other some much needed attention. The cool air against your saliva slick skin had you mewling again. It was all so much, too much, it felt too good, it was dizzying and overwhelming, and Bradley’s hands were touching parts of you you didn’t know were sensitive and–

“Stop!” it was gasped, breathlessly as your eyes shot open, chest heaving before looking down at your boyfriends worried face. 

“Too much?” Bradley cooed, reaching up to let his fingertips grace your cheek. Nodding shyly, you leaned into his touch, face heating at the notion that you needed a break. 

“It– it was too good, I-I couldn’t…” you trailed off, not entirely sure why you had asked him to stop. There had been a pressure building and sparking in you, and it frightened you. The pleasure you felt when the two of you made out, when he touched you, it was tame in comparison. No one else had ever made that… pressure happen before. 

Bradley shushed you softly, licking his lips and smiling softly up at you “S’okay, darling… we’re not in a rush, are we? And if you decide that’s enough for tonight, then that’s alright too.” he assured you, thumbs rubbing against your waist. He couldn’t help that his eyes flickered momentarily to the glistening skin around your breasts, an unfamiliar feeling swirling deep in the pit of his chest at the sight of his saliva marking your skin. It almost made him groan with pleasure, seeing himself on you in any capacity. 

“No, I… I really want you. I truly feel ready, because I’ve been thinking of loving you like this for so long now…” you trailed off, again looking down at where your body sat on top of his, stomach flipping a little as you took in the sun kissed skin of his abs… and that dusting of hair that disappeared beneath his boxers. “I just feel a little nervous” you admitted in a whisper, not being able to help the fluttering nerves within your stomach.

“Don’t be nervous… I’ll guide you through it, sweet girl,” Bradley murmured, nudging his nose against yours before letting his lips slowly move with yours, taking his time to let his tongue taste yours, until your arms were once again wrapped around his neck. 

“That’s it… good girl, keep going,” Bradley whispered against your lips as you again hesitantly rolled your hips against him. Soft mewls left you at his words, and Bradley couldn’t help but smiling into the kiss, filing away every reaction to his actions for later. 

“Does that feel good?” he hummed as he gently gripped your hips, helping you find the right angle to let his cock catch at your entrance before sliding up to your clit. The silk of your panties was dark with your slick, and Bradley could soon feel it covering his own underwear too. 

“Yes,” you breathed out, letting your forehead press against his “it– feels funny,” you whined, squeezing your eyes shut as that pressure started to come back, even stronger now. Bradley hummed low in his throat, one hand making its way between your bodies to put more pressure where you needed it. 

“Bradley!” you gasped, body jolting slightly as his leaking cock head pressed harder against your sensitive clit. “It’s okay, baby… you’re alright, I’ve got you,” Bradley whispered as he kissed right below your ear, not stopping the slow but steady rocking of your hips. 

“I feel like I’m gonna– gonna–” your trembling voice was interrupted by your small gasps and soft moans, again taking your plush bottom lip between your teeth as the sensation grew stronger. 

“You’re doing so good, honey– don’t stop; just let go for me, baby,” it was as if you needed Bradley’s soft guidance and assurance, because as soon as he told you to, you could feel that pressure spiking, before it snapped and shot through your entire body. The pleasure coursed through your veins as you came with a loud cry, followed by small whimpers of Bradley’s name, burrowing your face in his neck as you whined softly and rolled your hips a couple of more times. 

“There you go… such a good girl… are you alright, doll?” he’s murmuring softly and sweetly against your neck, your pulse thudding hard and fast against his warm lips. Lips that have curved slightly upwards as you cling onto him, fingers gripping at his slightly flexed biceps. You nod against his shoulder, placing a languid chaste kiss to his exposed skin. 

“I’m– I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before” heat again spread across your face, and Bradley couldn’t help the way his chest filled with pride, and an unfamiliar emotion that stirred somewhere close to his abdomen. “Did so good, honey. Looked real beautiful for me,” Bradley smiled, gently holding your hair back from your face before pecking your lips. His hands roamed down your body, until his fingers played with the hem of your underwear. Snapping the elastic slightly, making you gasp, he chuckled softly.

“Can I take these off?” nodding, you felt anticipation roll inside you in stormy waves as the two of you moved your bodies so Bradley could take your underwear off. Bradley’s hands kneaded softly at your thighs as you settled back on his lap, his amber eyes searching your worried face. Licking your lips, you took in Bradley’s completely naked form. Sure, you’d seen naked men before, but nothing compared to the golden tan of Bradley’s skin - the ripple of his abs, the dusting of hair that traveled from below his navel to his pubic bone and– oh god. 

You of all people was aware of Bradley’s size. He was tall, muscular, slightly burly, and his strong embrace always made you feel safe - whether he was lifting you and dropping you into the ocean earlier today, or if he made a point of helping you reach something high up (even if you didn’t always need the help) - but you hadn’t really used your imagination to be able to conjure this. Resting, hard as a rock, against his stomach, you wondered silently how on earth he would fit in you. 

“Honey,” Bradley tried to keep from chuckling, smirking, or sounding too smug when he spoke “it’s alright. We’ll go as slow as needed, love. I’ve got you.” and you trusted your boyfriend, you truly did, but still - how? 

As a distraction, Bradley’s ever working hands had snuck upwards, the pads of his fingers now caressing your sensitive clit, drawing a soft mewl from your parted lips. “That’s it, relax,” he murmured in encouragement as his fingers gently rubbed at your core, letting his middle finger slip further and further into your heat. 

“Oh!” pitching forward, you rested your forehead against your boyfriend’s broad shoulder, moaning involuntarily at the feeling of Bradley pumping his finger in and out slowly, stretching and preparing you. It felt good, that one finger didn’t yet feel uncomfortable. It was when he added a second one that you whined a little and squirmed against him. His voice soothed you, and as he found a spot within you that had you gasping every time his fingers graced it, you found your hips slowly starting to rock against his rhythm to seek out more of the feeling.

“Bradley…” his name tumbled from your lips in a needy gasp as his lips attached themselves to the delicate skin of your neck. You could feel his hot, wet tongue glide over the skin, his teeth nipping slightly before letting his lips close over the area to gently mark your neck. 

“Yes, sweetheart?” his reply was murmured against your skin, his mustache scratching lightly above your pulse point. “Think I want–” you paused “think I want you now…” it was strange how the words rolled off your tongue, embarrassment filling you up slightly at the admission, even with Bradley’s fingers knuckle deep in your pussy. The soft groan that reverberated from your boyfriend's chest made you squeak slightly in surprise, your walls clenching around his fingers as the sound spurred on your arousal. 

“Alright,” Bradley withdrew from the crook of your neck, where he’d had his face nuzzled, to look you in the eyes, giving you a soft smile as his fingers too withdrew from within you. 

“Do you have any condoms, sweets?” he murmured, tilting his head upwards slightly to place a chaste kiss to your warm cheek. Shaking your head no, you placed a soft kiss to his warm lips, admitting to him that you had been on birth control for some years now. You momentarily worried he might ask why you’d bother with contraceptives if you were a virgin. You’d rather not go into detail about how it can regulate your cycle. He just smiled, eagerly chasing your lips for another kiss as his hands stroked up and down your waist - where your silken shirt had created a halo around your midsection. 

“Tell me again what we’d do if you said a certain word?” Bradley looked into your eyes, his brown ones calm and filled with a serenity you could easily get lost in, as his large hand gently held your chin. Licking your lips, you managed a small smile down at your lover as you sat straddled across his lap, his hard cock leaking precum all over that faint line of hair that drove you absolutely insane with want.

“I say stop and we stop.” 

“Good girl,” at your slight shiver at the deep timbre of his voice, your boyfriend couldn’t keep his smirk at bay, loving how well you responded to his praise. 

Large hands gripped your hips as you rose slightly to your knees, your own hands which had been alternating between gripping Roosters biceps, clinging onto his shoulders, or being wrapped around his neck, now fluttered hesitantly down his chest, over his abdominals and down to that tantalizing little trail… The sound Bradley let out sounded relieved yet also a little strained as you hesitantly let your fingertips grace the underside of his hard cock, following along the prominent vein that ran along it. 

“Should I—” you licked your lips, gaze flickering up momentarily to his “should I touch you, before we..?” Bradley smiled softly and shook his head no “I am embarrassingly close to coming just from seeing you like this honey… it’s alright,” a soft smile spread on your lips as you still let your fingers curiously feel around your boyfriends hard shaft, feeling the ridges and veins, surprised at the silky feel of the warm skin. Humming softly you settled on letting your hands rest upon his shoulders again as he again gripped your hips to guide you into a position he deemed appropriate. 

Bradley’s head was spinning as he positioned his cock against your entrance, gently dragging his swollen head between your slick folds, having to take shallow breaths as he heard your whimpers and mewls. He repeated this motion over and over, ghosting over your hole, alternating between stimulating your clit and the sensitive skin around your heat. Soon enough you were rutting against the underside of his cock, making him slicked with your arousal. 

“Fuck, you feel so good!” Bradley groaned as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, desperately trying to get more of him. “Bradley! Please, please,” you whined, biting down slightly on his skin, drawing a deep moan from his parted lips. He let the very tip of his cock slowly enter you before he withdrew again, sliding his cock up towards your clit again. You had gasped and moaned at the short sensation, and Bradley could tell you thought you could take all of him with the way you were bucking your hips, trying to sink down on him.

“Slow down, baby… I’ll get you there, okay? Can’t take all of me yet…” he murmured against your temple, letting his lips linger there for a moment before he again lowered you slightly onto his weeping cock, the very tip breaching your core. 

You were panting now, as Bradley stilled your hips on him, this time not withdrawing as he let himself dip slightly deeper into you. Eyes widening, you whined at the sharp sting of his girth stretching you. 

“Shh, honey, you’re alright, I’ve got you,” his calm voice grounded you and you nodded against his shoulder. Bradley had done his best to prepare you, and you were thoroughly wet for him - but still, as he gently lowered you deeper onto him, tears sprang from your eyes at the sharp sting of being stretched by him. 

“I’m sorry, love.” Bradley furrowed his brows as he gently guided you to look at him, wiping at the tears that had leaked from your lashes. “Do you want to stop?” he murmured, large palm soothingly stroking up and down your spine. 

Even though the sharp sting wasn’t exactly comfortable, the feeling of his warmth, and the feeling of being so full still made your insides vibrate with feelings of love and arousal - a feeling that felt rather paradoxical in relation to the sharp stings you felt whenever you moved. Ultimately you spoke a tiny no, leaning into Bradley, seeking his solace and his safe embrace. Whenever you felt vulnerable, or were hurting, you sought out his safety. 

“Being so brave, little dove… being my good girl,” Bradley cooed, letting his strong arm wrap around you, his other slowly moving downwards, gently letting the pad of his finger rest against your clit as he lowered you a few more inches, until finally you sat flush against him. Biting your lip, your fingertips dug into the skin of Roosters biceps hard as he shushed you and praised you even more, making your stomach flip and your heart stutter in your chest. You had no idea mere words could ignite such a fire within you. 

Speaking softly to you, whispering praise and words of love into your ear, Bradley slowly let his fingertips grace over your back, down your arms, over your thighs, your breasts.. as his thumb gently swiped over your nipple, you let out a needy moan. Gently pinching, he drew out another whimper from you, and your breathing seemed to pick up again as he rolled it between his fingers, his palm massaging and kneading your flesh. 

“S’that feel good, honey?” he smiled as you looked him in the eyes, biting your lip and nodding as you experimentally rolled your hips - scrunching your face up, you whined softly at the feeling of discomfort, which was soothed by Bradley’s quick, distracting hands. 

Letting your lips crash against his, Bradley groaned as he used both hands to knead and pinch at your tits and nipples as you rocked slowly on his cock. Gasping and whimpering, you tried lifting your hips and sinking down again, finding that if you did it ever so slightly, it didn’t sting as much and it actually felt good when the tip of his cock hit that little spot inside you. 

“Bradley!” you whimpered against his lips, his name slightly muffled. After the initial pain, you were reeling from the realization that your boyfriend’s cock was buried in your pussy, and he was letting you ride him slowly. Moaning, you leaned slightly back, taking in the sight before you. In your frenzy, you had messed up his hair, and his eyes were glossy with lust, lips slightly swollen. The setting sun was making his tan skin glow, and the freckles that had formed on his shoulders made him look all the more incredible to you. 

“Fuck, god, you’re so fuckin’ tight… feel fucking incredible, Jesus, baby… I love you,” Bradley’s eyes were rolling upwards as you rode him a little faster, his cock pulsing with every slight movement you made. 

“I love you,” you whispered, the words ghosting over his skin. Bradley let his hands wander from your tits down to the globes of your ass, squeezing and kneading your asscheeks as you moved up and down on his cock. 

“Can I take over a little, baby?” he murmured into your ear, licking your lips, you nodded quickly, feeling Bradley’s grip on your ass tighten as he lifted and grinded you down against him. A gasp was quickly followed by a loud moan as he angled your hips ever so slightly, making your clit catch on his pubic bone. He sped up slightly, guiding your hips so they rolled and bounced slightly in time with his small thrusts, the head of his cock brushing that spot again and again, making you whimper and keen over and over. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Bradley grunted and groaned as he fucked you onto his leaking cock. He was so fucking close, you were gripping and clenching so hard around him, and he was sure he was going to blow his load soon. “Baby you feel so fucking good.. god, this tight little pussy was fuckin’ made for my cock, wasn’t it? Was made to be fucked by me,” Bradley grunted as he babbled, that feeling he felt earlier exploding in his chest at your needy mewls. 

Growling, he took your loud moans as his go ahead to go just a little faster, fuck you just a little deeper. His one forearm wrapped around the curve of your ass as the other snuck up between your shoulder-blades, where he gripped the hair at the nape of your neck. A loud cry spilled from your lips as your eyes fluttered close, your body instantly relaxing and going almost limp in his hold as you moaned repeatedly. Growling, Bradley bucked his hips to fuck into you instead of lowering you down on him, and your needy cries made him almost black out with pleasure. 

Soon, he heard you gasping, moaning and crying his name over and over in pleasure. “That’s it honey, tell me who’s making you feel good.. who’s fucking this tight little pussy of yours so good,” his words made your eyes roll back into your head, and with a cry of his name you came for the second time, your slick creating a creamy ring around the base of his cock as he fucked you through the first orgasm you’d ever experienced with someone inside you. 

Whimpering and mewling, the waves of pleasure didn’t stop coming, it just kept going as Bradley’s cock pumped fast and deep into your wet cunt. Your bedroom was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, a wet sound that you found rather arousing, and your labored breaths and moans. 

“Babe, god I’m so close,” Bradley moaned, holding you tighter to his chest as he gasped, his cock and balls pulsing with the need to release. “Should I pull out?” he wasn’t all together sure he could. “No!” you whined, fingers tangling themselves in his hair. You’d never felt like this before. Your chest was swirling with the need to keep him close, keep him inside of you, you never wanted him to leave.

“Need you, Brad, need you!” you could barely form a full sentence, your words sounding more like whimpery babbles. At your pleas, Bradley grunted and groaned before he swore loudly, his hips bucking before his cock twitched and his release spurted deep within you. 

Feeling his warm seed spilling in you, your eyes rolled back slightly again as you moaned. Bradley’s whole body was shuddering as he ground you down against him, his balls tightening again and again as he released ropes upon ropes of his cum deep in your pussy. 

Sweaty bodies tangled together as you slumped forward against his heaving chest, your own breath labored and unsteady. Nuzzling into his pecs, you could hear and feel the way his heart beat hard inside his chest. “Love you,” you murmured, kissing at his sternum. Rooster’s large hand caressed the back of your head as you both came down from your highs. 

“Might hurt a little when I pull out…” he murmured against the top of your head, and you let out a dissatisfied whine whilst pouting. 

“Are you okay, honey?” he continued, and you smiled and nodded, feeling perfectly content as you laid in the safe arms of your lover, having just given him all of your love, and receiving all of him and his love back. 

AHHHHH fuck this one took forever to finish, and i'm not entirely happy with the ending - but i hope someone might enjoy it still<3 please let me know what you think! i'm always open for constructive crit <3

special thanks to coley and em for helping me through my writers block and cheering me on<3

[honkytonk-hangman]

Take Care Of Business

40s!Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Mechanic!Reader

gif belongs to babyrooster

Summary: The last time you met Lieutenant Jake Seresin, the war was still ongoing and you’d been in a floundering engagement. Back then you’d seen the possibility for more in his eyes, and now? Well, now you could explore it.

Warnings: mentions of period accurate sexism, mentions of a cheating fiancee. copious amounts of fluff, seriously you may overdose

Notes: OMG ITS HERE ITS ACTUALLY FINISHED!!! thank you so sosososososos much to @hangmanssunnies for your endless endless ENDLESS love and encouragement during the last year writing this, and also to @ussgallifrey, who was super supportive during the earliest versions of this fic <3 i can't believe its heeerrreeee

1946

You can’t help but let out a laugh as you’re guided through the busy dance hall, barely missing a waiter with a large tray of drinks as you go. You try to call back an apology, but the hand wrapped around your wrist is already dragging you away, weaving in and out of the crowds of dancers and party-goers.

You’d almost forgotten what the atmosphere in a place like this could be like, exuberant and daring, and now that the war was officially over, lacking in any sort of melancholy.

Bea, your well meaning, but a little over-excited friend, finally seems to be slowing down, though she has one last surprise in stall for you, using your momentum to swing you around to her side with a strength such a small woman certainly shouldn’t possess.

“There she is!” a male voice, deep and pleasant, greets from somewhere in front of you, and you give your head a quick shake, attempting to get your bearings now.

“Sorry we’re late, sugar! Had a lipstick emergency!” Bea says only half truthfully, stepping away from your side momentarily to allow a handsome moustachioed man to lean down and kiss her cheek.

You can’t help but smile at the sweet display. Bea had been telling you all about Bradley Bradshaw for weeks now, and if even half of what she’d told you was true, you already liked him immensely for treating your friend so well.

“And this must be the famous Ducky I’ve heard all about,” honey coloured eyes swivel away from Bea and land on you, making you remember yourself.

“It’s so good to meet you at last, Lieutenant Bradshaw!” you shake his offered hand warmly.

“Please just call me Bradley– or Rooster!” he gently corrects you, before he hums, and shoots Bea a suspicious look.

“Do you think she’s adding us birds to some sort of collection?” he asks conspiratorially, the question making you laugh genuinely at the absurdity.

Bea huffs, shakes her head, and smacks his arm, trying her best to fight off the grin on her lips.

“All I’ll say Rooster, is that you’d best treat her right, or she will hunt you for sport,” you lean in and reply, receiving your own smack for your trouble. Rooster’s face turns bright and he laughs, pulling Bea near with his arm around her.

“I can believe that, yes ma’am,” they look at each other with barely concealed adoration, and it makes your heart clench a little in your chest. You’re quickly distracted though, with the sudden and rowdy approach of six other people, all dressed to the nines like everyone else around you. Rooster seems unfazed by their appearance, though he tears his eyes away from Bea to glance around at the now much larger group you were in.

“Fellas, you all know Bea already, and this is Bea’s friend, Ducky,” he easily introduces you to the six newcomers, all men except for a tall, beautiful brunette woman who looked like she could eat every single one of them for breakfast. A flurry of handshakes and names are exchanged, and you’re surprised by just how quickly you feel totally absorbed by the group of Naval Aviators, like you’d known them all for years and were just catching up again.

“I’m spotting a free table, north west!” the man who held the youngest looking features of the group, Fanboy you believe he’d introduced himself as, pipes up, pointing over everyone's heads to the large round table that was currently being cleaned up. Before you can even process it, the entire group is migrating casually toward the table, Rooster catching the arm of the waiter before he leaves, putting a round in, you assume.

You find yourself next to Bob, who sends you an adorably awkward little grin as he pulls out your chair for you, and you thank him sincerely. Despite the gentlemanly gesture, the moment you’re comfortable, he’s taking his own seat, and once more totally absorbed by the woman you’d learn was named Phoenix, or Nat. You hadn’t noticed it earlier, too distracted by all the new faces, and their excitable personalities, but Bob was clearly, utterly enamoured by Phoenix, and it looked like the feeling was returned, if perhaps a little less obviously

“Hey, Javy, where’s your other half?” Bea is sat a few places down from you, her hand wrapped through Rooster’s arm. A man on the opposite side of the table waves his hand over his shoulder.

“He’s coming, probably caught his reflection in a glass,” Javy snorts.

“I wanted to introduce him to Ducky!” Bea pouts, and her words make you frown.

“Pardon?” you say pointedly, leaning around Bob and Phoenix to look at Bea with a frown. Rooster seems to be matching your expression, and he cocks his head at his partner.

“Ducky is far too nice for him,” Rooster says, but you get the feeling he doesn’t really mean it.

“Oh come off it, Ducks, you could do with meeting someone new!” Bea rolls her eyes, but her voice is imploring.

Your frown deepens just a little bit, but you aren’t too angry. It wasn’t as if she’d tricked you into a double date or anything. There were plenty of other seemingly solo people around that you’re sure any awkwardness could easily be avoided if you managed to stick by Bob and Phoenix.

“I’m afraid that I won’t be able to help you there, Honey Bea,” A smooth male voice purrs from behind you, and you almost jump at the hand that comes to rest warmly on your shoulder. You turn quickly in no small amount of surprise at the person apparently so close, but any further thought is cut off when your eyes properly take in the handsome face smirking coquettishly down at you.

You’re so surprised, you gasp daintily, fumbling to your feet so that you can greet him properly.

“Hangman!” you welcome him excitedly, happily accepting the hand he offers to help you up.

“Jake,” he corrects gently, and you feel foolish for laughing.

“Jake!” you repeat fondly, caught up in staring at him.

“You two already know each other?” Bea sounds put out, but intrigued, and you manage to tear your gaze away from Jake for a few moments to focus on her.

“Oh, Ducky and I go way back,” Jake tells her, at first offering no more explanation.

“We met during the war,” you explain to her, opening your mouth to continue on that he had been a friend of your fiance’s, but you stop yourself. Jake had been your friend long before you’d found out he knew your ex-fiance.

“Best damn aircraft mechanic I’ve ever had,” Jake adds, sounding proud as he brings your hand that he still holds up to his lips. Phoenix jerks then, blinking quickly around the other’s and then up at Jake with a growing smile.

“Wait, you’re the Ducky?! Jake’s Ducky?!” She questions in no small amount of disbelief. There’s a quiet chitter of understanding and awe that briefly overcomes the table, and you’re about to ask what it is she means by that, when Jake squeezes your hand and draws your attention, all the while shooting Phoenix a dirty look.

“Stop interrupting,” he scolds needlessly, and draws you closer.

Your chest flutters, but you’re distracted from the butterflies caused by being described as ‘Jake’s Ducky’, and instead distracted by an odd look on the blond’s face. It quickly turns a little darker, and you can’t help but notice the brief flicker of his eyes down to the hand he still holds.

“Where is the old man, then?” Jake tilts his head at you, and then quickly around at the crowded club, seemingly a little stiff now. You suck in a breath, realising now what he’d been confused by.

Clearing your throat, you take your left hand back from him with only a small amount of effort, before smoothing down your frock primly. Suddenly his closeness was nerve wracking as you feel him studying your features.

“Probably with his new wife. I haven’t exactly been keeping up,” you can’t help but scold yourself for the sass and bitterness in your tone. It just wasn’t classy. Jake seems to jolt as he processes your words, and for several more moments he stares down at you with an unreadable expression, before at last a tiny crease pulls between his brows, and his lips purse.

“I never liked him, anyway,” Jake says the words flippantly, and you know it’s supposed to be a joke, but his still taut expression and lack of humour in his voice tell you otherwise.

“Never good enough for you. To you,” he goes on quieter, so no one else can hear but you. You look down at your skirt, heart thumping away rapidly in your chest even as you shrug.

“Well, it’s probably for the best,” you do your best to shake off any residual foul mood and nerves, straightening up. Your lips curl back into a smile as you look back up at him once more. It felt nearly impossible to be melancholy when you knew Jake was around.

“It’s so good to see you again,” you tell him earnestly, and watch as Jake’s face softens. He takes your hand again, keeping eye contact as he lifts it to his lips and kisses it once more, this time, right where your old engagement ring would have been.

“I imagine,” he smirks, bouncing an eyebrow at you. You scoff, but grin even as you roll your eyes.

“You’re supposed to say ‘you too’!” you scold with no conviction as Jake rounds your seat, not even releasing your hand when, helping you back into your chair before he quickly folds himself into the empty space beside you. He simply shrugs at you, making a point of pulling his chair closer to yours, before his eyes flicker past you to land on Rooster and Bea.

“Sorry to ruin your little setup,” he doesn’t sound very sorry at all, though you doubt Bea was feeling too upset, not with the way she was looking between you and Jake with glee in her eyes.

“Hey, wasn’t my plan. I think she’s too good for you,” Rooster chortles, catching the fist Bea attempts to sock him with, and kissing it instead.

Jake ignores Rooster, and instead cuts his gaze down at you, leaning in so only you’ll hear him.

“How long have you been in San Diego? Are you staying?” he asks, sounding excited by the idea. When you turn to face him fully, his nearness is so much that if only for propriety’s sake, you’re forced to pull back from him as you talk.

“Six months now. I met Bea on the boat coming home from London, she convinced me not to go back to New York after… everything.” you tell him, realising suddenly what incredible luck you must have that you just so happened to run into one another when you’d resigned yourself to never seeing him again.

“I’m glad.” he says, pinning you in place when you feel his hand reach out and take yours from where it rests on your lap. Your heart thumps heavily at his brazenness, but it also sets you alight with a hopeful flame that in recent months you had come to realise you always had, but never allowed yourself to take notice of or indulge before.

The thoughts make your face boil, and you avert your gaze, your free hand shaking just a little as you reach for the glass of water that had been poured for you earlier.

“Oh, Ducky,” Jake sighs affectionately, leaning away from you at last, but tightening his grip around your fingers. You finally get the courage to glance up at him sheepishly, only to find him grinning down at you cheshire-like.

“My little sitting Ducky,” he continues, his smile only continuing to grow.

You know you should probably feel more trepidation about his sudden forwardness, but the only thing that you feel pumping through your veins is the exhilarating thrill at the thought of Jake calling you ‘his’ anything after so long of secretly wishing it to be true.

The way he looks at you feels positively predatory, and under his blistering hunter’s stare, you really are his sitting duck.

1942

The rain batters down against the airfield in what you knew would only prove to be ugly flying weather tonight, and you quickly send out a prayer of luck on behalf of the pilot you know by handwriting alone. Your time as an aircraft mechanic had officially come to an end, not for any good or decent reason, mind you, but for the sole fact that someone had suddenly decided that an active airfield was no place for a woman.

Nevermind that you were the best mechanic in the hangar, your colleagues had stroppily resented your presence from day one, and your true purpose as an additional engineer was forcibly concealed. Instead, you’d had to pretend you were a secretary around any actual personnel, especially the pilots, and once the hangar was clear for the day, you would be at last allowed to perform your actual job.

You’d gotten the impression fairly quickly that your coworkers shunted off the hardest to please, fussiest pilot, onto you, hoping you might fail at the first hurdle under the sheer amount of work this ‘Hangman’ seemed to demand. Unfortunately for them, you’d had no problem meeting the brief, and day after day that the planes were towed into the hangar for repairs, the stack of memos detailing Hangman’s complaints that always accompanied his aircraft grew smaller and smaller.

And then one day, instead of a plane to fix and a list of notes, you had a letter shoved into your hands, the contents of which was a written apology from one Lieutenant Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, informing you that he’d he’d been shot down, and all your hard work over the past weeks was now engulfed in flame somewhere in Italy. You’d immediately penned a reply, not caring at all about the state of his aircraft, and expressing your relief that he had made it out safely. You’d had to sign it off using a pseudonym, your own name would have gone against your boss’s wishes, and a fake name would be easily found out on an active military base.

You’d gone with ‘Ducky’, the callsign your father had used during the Great War, and from then on out, it had stuck.

Lieutenant Seresin had been sent back to the airfield eventually, and you’d both gone back to business as usual for several months. His battered bomber would be towed into the hangar for repairs, but gone were his blunt instructions, in their place he left short personal letters usually detailing his most recent flights, and only sometimes with requests about fixtures to be made. You would then leave your own reply for him to find when the plane was returned back to the runway, and so on, so forth. 

At least, that's how things had been carrying on until this morning, when you’d been abruptly dismissed by the airfield’s second in command, a snivelling man who had informed you they had ended your auxiliary work here, as it was apparently no place for a woman to be.

You’d wanted to shout and demand explanations, to demand your colleagues defend your worth, but they'd all remained silent, and you’d quickly been escorted off to pack your things with tears stinging your eyes.

You can’t help but wonder if your secret somehow got out, by the doing of jealous coworkers, and if perhaps Hangman hadn’t been so pleased with you upon finding out that you’re a woman.

The heavy rainfall makes it difficult for you and your bags to get across to the waiting transport plane, but the war stopped for nobody, so you’d wound up in the back of the empty aircraft, your clothes and things all but totally soaked. You’d been told the plane wouldn’t leave until the storm died down, so you’d huddled onto one of the benches miserably and tried to get warm, but you felt yourself filled with a deeper coldness than simply the biting european air.

You sit and stare out the back of the plane’s fuselage, simply taking in the distant ebb and flow of the airfield, a flurry of activity that wouldn't stop just because of some rain. It comforted you in a way, to know this place would carry on, but there was a deeper part of you that worried for them. You weren’t a braggart, but you knew you were the best mechanic here, taking not just pride in your work, but joy and passion too. It concerns you what may happen to the pilots in the future.

But, it was much too late for you to do anything else now. Perhaps if you’d been brave enough from the start to demand your recognition all along, this wouldn't be the case, but you think that perhaps they’d have just gotten rid of you sooner.

And then you notice something very odd.

All of a sudden out of the pouring sheets of rain, a covered military jeep comes tearing into sight, its driver in some kind of rush despite the slow lazy movement of everything else in this weather. You blink in surprise as the car skids right up to the plane you’re in, and jump up when it at last comes to a full stop only a few feet from the ramp. You can’t help but take a step back when the door flings open, and you watch as a tall, handsome man bounds out, clearly with urgent business to attend.

The man quickly moves up the plane ramp toward you, ducking out of the rain and taking a moment to fix his hair briefly before he straightens fully again. You stare at him with widened eyes, taking in the aviation uniform he wears, complete with gold wings that seem to glint blindingly despite the lack of sunlight on them. He pauses at the top of the ramp, and you almost jump back again at the intensity of his gaze when his bright green eyes narrow at you.

“Now, now, Ducky, don’t you know it’s rude to leave without saying goodbye?” the lazy southern drawl to the man’s voice surprises you so much that you almost don’t notice the familiarity with which he speaks to you.

“I’m sorry?!” you blurt dumbly. The blonde nods acceptingly, and steps forward, placing his hands on his hips.

“I should hope so! You think Kirk is gonna send me letters the next time I get shot down?” he asks scoldingly, but his casual mention of what would have been certain death for any other pilot is what finally snaps you from your shock.

“You'll get more than just a letter from me the next time you’re shot down!” you say crossly, finding yourself none-too-pleased by his nonchalant attitude toward the subject. Your threat makes a smirk form on the blonde’s lips, and at last he seems to stop his baseless tirade in favour of giving you a very blatant once over. You’re more subtle in your own assessment. A quick glance at the name pinned just below his gold wings confirms your suspicions about who it is you talk to, and when you snap your eyes back to his face, you find he’s already watching you closely.

“For what it’s worth, I’ve known you’re a woman for quite some time,” Hangman says, somehow both seriously and flippantly at the same time, waving his hand dismissively. Your brows furrow and you open your mouth to defend yourself, but shut it again quickly when you realise you’re unsure of what you’d say. “I first suspected when the repair hangar suddenly had a secretary who made terrible coffee. They aren’t sending anyone who makes shitty coffee this close to Italy. No offence.”

You feel like you should be insulted by his words, but truthfully, you’d made the joe that bad on purpose out of pure spite, until they stopped asking you to fetch it. The two of you continue to stare at one another for a few seconds, before you shift your eyes away from him, swallowing thickly as you begin to fidget with your still damp sleeve.

“The other’s thought it best that the pilot’s didn’t know a woman was working on their planes…” you try to explain. Hangman immediately scoffs at your words, and you eye him cautiously as he flings a hand out behind him, toward the entrance of the transport plane and in the vague direction of where the bombers are lined up on the tarmac, their bright colours obscured by the heavy rain.

“Ducky,” he begins dryly, “We paint our planes with women, we name our planes after our women,” he tells you, his smirk tipping up into pure amusement now, an eyebrow following. “Besides, I ain’t ever known a pilot who’s intimidated by a little skirt, especially around our machines,” he purrs, lowering his voice flirtatiously. Your face immediately heats up at his insinuation, and you can’t help but tut disapprovingly at him, even if you did appreciate his other sentiments. You fold your arms over your chest in disapproval while Hangman chortles at your clear bashfulness.

“I mean it, Ducky, please don’t go,” the pilot all but begs you then, his tone suddenly serious. He steps closer again, forcing you to look up at him  in the gloomy dark of the plane.

“I– I’m not leaving because I want to, Lieutenant,” you tell him somberly, dropping your gaze again when you find his stare too intense. “I was told to leave.” 

Hangman scoffs again, and adjusts his stance.

“Right, and I’ve just come from dangling my ass in front of a court martial, or seven, to make sure that order is belayed.” he informs you much too casually. You sputter at his mention of possible charges on your behalf, your arms falling unfolded again as you take a half-step forward in panic.

“W–what?! What did you do?!” you demand, half worried, half furious. 

Hangman grins widely at your clear exasperation, and tips his chin up cockily. You get the sudden feeling he enjoys ticking you off and making you nervous.

“Well, they can’t expect me to remain their best pilot if I don’t have my best girl working on my other best girl,” he tells you slowly, as if it should have been completely obvious already. Your face gets even hotter at his clear flirting, guilt strumming in your stomach at the way your chest flutters despite your relationship status. However, before you’re able to rebuke him by pointing out the ring you wear, the handsome blond makes a show of digging into his breast pocket, and pulling out a crumpled, coffee stained letter, holding it out towards you.

You hesitantly step closer to take it from him, feeling his bright, intense gaze return to yours, as you unfold and quickly look over the typed missive. It’s only a few lines long, and signed at the bottom, so you find yourself hurriedly meeting his eye again.

“You did this for me?” you ask, voice now watery. Hangman stares down at you, looking suddenly less cocky and sure of himself, taken aback by your clear emotional response.

“... Technically, I did this for me.” he corrects unconvincingly, voice lilting to sound dismissive, but you barely hear him, and certainly don’t care for his posturing.

“Thank you!” you gush, feeling a massive weight lift form your chest for the first time all morning. The pilot blinks down at you, stiffly taking in the tears that you try to wipe away with the back of your hand.

“How’re you supposed to drag me back by the ear the next time I get shot down, if you’re not here?” He changes the subject slightly, but only earns a small laugh in reply, not a further telling off, which he’d hoped might distract you from your tears.

“I think that will be the least I owe you after this.” you sniffle. The pilot shuffles uncomfortably, and raises a hand to scratch nervously at the back of his head, unable to sidestep the emotional centre of this interaction like he’d wanted to, but he chooses to wade through it, for you.

“You don’t owe me a damn thing, Ducky, really,” Hangman sighs, speaking tiredly, but firmly. “You’re the best aircraft mechanic I’ve ever had, probably that any of us have had. Shouldn’t matter if you’re a woman.” he hopes he sounds sincere. You hold the belayed order to your chest, and with a wobbling lip stare up at him like he was the sun itself.

You don’t realise this is the exact moment Lieutenant Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin falls completely in love with you, but as he eyes the shiny engagement ring you wear, he does.

1946

You try to ignore the way Bea stares at you and Jake for the next half hour as you catch up, and eventually, you are able to brush off her pointed looks and coquettish smiles. The other Daggers, Rooster and Phoenix particularly, show no such subtly in the way they seem to watch Jake interact with you. Phoenix had even grown a smug little smile in the last few minutes and had begun teasingly questioning Jake about the tender way in which he had taken up your hand and absolutely refused to let it go.

You get the feeling they know something you don’t, but you don’t feel that poorly over it, not when Hangman, Jake, has his hand in yours, his thumb caressing back and forth in little circles everytime you seem to go quiet.

Eventually, tiring of the clear teasing at his expense, Jake rolls his eyes and clears his throat. Fixing you in his gaze fully, he squeezes your hand and gets to his feet.

“I think we’ve both answered more than enough of your questions, Ducky, dance with me?” he doesn’t wait for your answer, but you would have said yes anyway, and, with a final glance back at the table as if to apologise for the sudden exit, you’re tugged gently away and almost immediately find yourself wrapped up on the dancefloor.

“I’m sorry if I’m rusty, it’s been a while since I danced properly,” you say nervously, feeling slightly lightheaded as Jake’s free hand moves to take hold of your waist firmly. His lips flick up, but he fakes a frown anyway, lowering his chin at you. You’re so close now you can feel yourself pressed right against the front of his pristine dress whites, feel the gold buttons through the tulle of your dress.

“I would have thought you’d be out dancing all the time now, fiancee or not,” Jake replies smoothly, making you shift your gaze away from him for a moment.

“It’s hardly wise to spend all my time dancing when I can barely find a job…” you say quietly, chewing on your lower lip, before you finally look back up at him. “If I’m honest, I hadn’t thought I’d still be working, once the war was over.”

Jake’s features lose any of their humour and he purses his lips.

“No, I’d have thought not… you should be being looked after by a good man, living a good life, taken dancing whenever you’d like and you’d never be rusty.” he tells you seriously. You can’t help but smile warmly at him and shrug a little in his hold.

“I think what I should do is adjust my expectations,” you say, inhaling sharply when his hold on your tightens, and he seems to pull you even nearer, if possible.

“I’m afraid that is absolutely unacceptable,” he tells you with a vehement shake of his head. “I think we’re going to have to do something about it, aren’t we?”

Butterflies errupt in your stomach, and unable to bear looking at him any more, you gently pull your hands from his, and wrap them around his neck. Your head rests softly on his chest, Jake quickly adjusting to meet your new stance in a way that suggested to you he’d imagined holding you like this for some time. You squeeze your eyes shut and let out a soft sigh.

“Thank you, Jake.” You say quietly, only knowing for sure that he’s heard you by the way he gently squeezes your waist in response.

“For what, darlin’?”

“For everything. For always coming back like I asked, despite your terrible habit of only ever  returning with about half as much plane as I sent you out with, for believing in me, and fighting for me, and always being there for me, even when Grey wasn’t.”

Jake stays quiet for a beat, his grip on you never wavering, and for a few moments the two of you just sway.

“It never felt right, knowing what I did about him, how he behaved, and keeping it from you… I… I felt so guilty all this time thinkin’ you’d been married to a man I knew didn’t deserve you, knowing I should have said something.”

It’s your turn to stay quiet, though eventually you shift your face up so that you can look at him. For the first time ever, Jake struggles to make eye contact with you, but when you begin gently smoothing over the hair at the back of his neck he meets your gaze. You smile sadly and shake your head.

“I knew,” you tell him, watching how his expression shifts from guilt-ridden to pained, and he opens his mouth, but you cut him off. “I didn’t want to believe it, and if you’d tried to tell me, I wouldn’t have believed you.” You continue stroking the back of his hair as if to comfort him. “And now I can still look fondly back on that time. In my mind, I will always think more of you looking out for me on his behalf, more than I think of him.” you admit.

Jake purses his lips and frowns.

“He never once asked me to do that for you, I couldn’t believe it, even when he knew we were stationed together. I woulda made sure you had someone you could trust, rely on, especially given how the other mechanics treated you.” He sounds so angry, and you can’t help but blink up at him in surprise.

“Grey never asked you to look out for me?” you ask, a fresh sting cutting your heart. You were long over your cheating, good for nothing ex-fiancee, but occasionally on nights like tonight, you felt the hurt once again. Jake takes in your surprise and hesitates for a moment before shaking his head.

“No. I won’t give him credit for that, I’m sorry sweetheart.”

You stop swaying, pausing for a moment to stare up at him, and then you can’t help yourself, you lean up and press a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you, Jake.” you say once more. When you pull away, Jake studies you for a while, before he slides his hands up to take yours, suddenly spinning you out, and then back in, where he catches you seemingly with his entire body, hands quickly wrapping you up securely again as you gasp.

“Why so surprised, honey? I’ve never made a secret of how much I adore you?” He teases you, making you stutter.

“Y-yes well, you were usuaully far more subtle about it!” you attempt to defend. Jake’s face breaks out in a grin, but he eyes you sardonically anyway.

“I’m glad my restraint didn’t go unnoticed. I could easily have seduced you away back then,” he tells you wryly. You frown.

“I don’t think that’s true…” you argue, but Jake only smiles.

“Let me believe, honey,” he implores, making you laugh.

You fall into a comfortable quiet then, and happily let Jake twirl you around the dancefloor, shaking off any rust you may have obtained in the months since you’d last been out like this. After once more spinning you away and catching you again, you meet together with your faces much too close to be proper, but you hardly care with the way he looks down at you.

“The moment I saw you sitting in the back of that transport plane, I knew for sure you were my dream girl, you know that?” he tells you breathlessly. “I spent my entire recovery when I was shot down daydreaming about you, rereading every letter you wrote me.”

“You’re just trying to charm me now!” you accuse playfully. Jake chortles, and shakes his head.

“I told all my nurses about you, how I was going to marry you when the war was over,” he says, making your heart skip several beats.

“And all because I fixed your plane up real good?” you ask, unsure how else to respond. Jake raises an eyebrow and fixes you with an amused expression.

“Clearly you don’t grasp how attractive that is.”

“Clearly I don’t.”

“I hope my being unavailable didn’t hurt you, back then,” you say softly, surprised when Jake only shrugs minimally.

“Other than curbing my ability to seduce you, I knew one way or the other things would work out,” he tells you, sounding oddly serious. You blink at him, but cock your head slightly.

“I suppose they have, haven’t they?”

“I knew you liked me,” Jake says teasingly, leaning his face even closer to yours so that your noses almost touch. You roll your eyes, but don’t move back.

“How could I not? I’ve spent the last year feeling like a fool because I thought I’d never see you again!” you reply, lamenting the wasted time.

Jake hums, making you suck in a breath when he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I’ve been looking for you, but I didn’t even know your full name, or if you’d had it changed… But I’d never have left you, not when you never left me, no matter how many planes of yours I got shot out of.”

“Please don’t ruin this moment by reminding me,” you scold him, making the blond laugh. After a few beats of swaying together, you wrap your hands back around his neck and lean into him. You feel Jake’s head come to rest on yours, the both of you looking out at the dancefloor, where you spot Rooster and Bea dancing alongside Pheonix and Bob.

“Who do you think will have the wedding bells ringing first?” you ask wistuflly. Jake takes a moment to answer, humming briefly before he replies.

“Us.” He tells you matter of factly.

You can't help but giggle, and blindly smack his shoulder lightly.

“You’re hopeless!” you say, shaking your head where it lays against his chest. Jake only tightens his hold on you.

“Can’t let those nurses down, can I? They told me I had to marry you if you still hadn’t left me after the amount of times I was shot down.”

Against him you grumble, and poke his neck a little more forcefully.

“I wouldn’t recommend tyring that again,” you say darkly. You feel the man straighten ever so slightly, his head bobbing as he nods.

“Yes ma’am.” He affirms. You stay dancing closely, wrapped up in one another until he speaks again. “Will you come down to base tomorrow, look over my plane?” He asks quietly, and you can’t help but grin. Pulling back from him, you gaze into his green eyes, finding pure hope and adoration there.

“Only if you kiss me first.”

[roosterforme]

Khaki, White and Blue | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Three different uniforms on him. Three different rides for you. But there's just one man who can get you off with his words, his actions and a well placed thigh.

Warnings: Swears, fluff, smutty thigh riding, 18+

Length: 3200 words

Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

Happy birthday to @thedroneranger!

This is a one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time but it can be read on its own! Banner by @mak-32 Check out my masterlist

Bradley bit his knuckle as he watched you come strolling down the vacant sidewalk toward him in the idling Bronco. He grunted softly as you adjusted your bag on your shoulder, never missing a step in your high heels and snug tweed skirt. You were illuminated by the orange glow of the streetlights, and even though it was Friday, your late night teaching advanced calculus, you looked as perfectly put together as you had this morning. 

"Fuck," he moaned when you opened the door and climbed in next to him, your skirt sliding up your thigh as you started to lean closer to give him a kiss.

"What?" you asked, pausing to examine his expression before dropping your gaze down to the insignia pins on his khaki uniform shirt. 

Bradley shook his head, voice raspy as he said, "Don't act like you don't know that you look fine as hell, Sugar. You feel like taking a walk to the library? Maybe check out one of the study rooms?"

He leaned in as your pouty lips formed a perfect smirk, but you just nipped at his mustache, pulling away and teasing him every time he tried to deepen the kiss. You laughed softly as he chased your lips when you asked, "What's wrong with right here?"

Bradley froze except for his big hand that he slowly wrapped around the back of your neck. "Here? Parked on campus?"

You just nodded in response as he subtly adjusted himself in his pants, his body responding favorably to his wife as usual. Then you finally kissed him with parted lips, letting him taste your tongue, and you whined when he reached for you, pulling you gently until you crawled across the seat. 

"You look good in your khakis with all your pins, Beer Boy," you whispered as you eased yourself down to straddle his right thigh. The interior of the Bronco was mostly dark as you reached for his rough hands and set them softly on the hem of your tweed skirt.

"You're such a fucking tag chaser," he said, trying to hide his grin as you tipped your head back and laughed. You both knew that couldn't be further from the truth, he just loved to hear your laughter. But that melodic sound was replaced with a whine as he pushed your skirt up inch by inch, bunching the tweed fabric until his hands were on your bare skin.

As he drew little circles along your thighs, he let his hands drift back until he was cupping your ass. You were already grabbing at his shoulders as you rolled your hips forward, and Bradley had to run his index finger down nearly to your pussy to even confirm you were wearing one of your tiniest thongs.

"I guess I am," you whispered, rubbing yourself against his thigh. "It's making me hot that you're getting a new pin tomorrow, Lieutenant Commander."

"Fuck," he gasped as your knee nudged his hard cock. He glanced around a little frantically, trying to make sure nobody was walking down this quiet side street. "You know, one of your students or coworkers could see this."

"Mmm," you moaned, grinding yourself down on his thigh until you gasped. "See what? Nothing's going on in here."

Bradley palmed your ass before giving you a little smack and tucking his long index finger inside your thong. He guided you forward on his thigh, keeping a foot of space between your upper body and his. 

"That's right, Sugar," he whispered as you rubbed your pussy up and down his khaki pants. "We're just talking here."

You nodded as you bit your lip. "Just talking." When your head tipped back again, showing off your beautiful neck and making your tits strain against your blouse, Bradley had to fight to keep his lips off you. 

"You're putting on a show for me, Baby. Feel good?"

Your hips stuttered a bit as you rode his thigh, and he guided you along with his hands on your delicious hips. "Bradley," you whined. "I... oh... oh!"

"Full sentences. Tell me what you need," he said with a smirk as you tipped your head forward to look at him and scooted up in desperation until your pussy met his gold belt buckle. 

"Need this... oh!"

Bradley thrust his hips to meet you as he growled, "You sound so fucking dumb right now. I thought you had your PhD."

"Fuck!" You reached for his biceps, holding on to him as your lips parted. You were panting as you shook, grinding against the metal buckle, making soft little gasping noises as your eyes drifted closed. Bradley squeezed your hips tight as you came on the front of his khakis, moaning his name as the roll of your hips started to slow. 

He reached for your left hand, running his thumb along your diamond ring as he guided your fingers to his cock where it rested hard and huge against his thigh. "You feel what you do to me?" he grunted. "You feel how much I love you?"

You nodded your head, still coming down from your own orgasm as you squeezed him gently. "I do. I feel it."

Bradley thrust up into your hand as he swallowed hard. "Get buckled in, Sugar," he commanded, and you went scrambling back across the seat, treating him to the sight of your bare ass as you went. Even in the dim light, he could see the slick, wet marks you left all over his pants, and he groaned. "I'll take you home and let you feel it until you're screaming."

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

You'd never been to a promotion banquet before, but you were thoroughly enjoying every moment of this. Your husband was sitting with his arm around you in his dress whites with his new pin on his uniform while sipping a beer, and he looked gorgeous. He was all crooked grin, crooked white hat, and flushed, pink cheeks, and you knew he would give you anything you wanted tonight. 

"I still can't believe you wore that," he muttered, pressing his lips and mustache to your ear. "You just tell me when you want to go home, and I'll take care of the rest."

You moaned softly at the banquet table, basking in his attention when his beer bottle met your tattoos. You were wearing the black dress from your college reunion, the one you had on last summer when the two of you had reunited after ten years, and there were cutouts on the sides. Bradley's hands had been all over you that night, and they were all over you again now.

"Beer Boy," you warned as condensation dripped down your skin, but he didn't care. His deep, rumbling laughter alerted you to that fact. 

"You've been teasing me all night. You think I don't owe you a little something?"

"What did you have in mind, Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw?"

Bradley looked around the table, nodding to the other officers he knew as he set his beer down and squeezed your shoulder. He hooked his fingers under your chin and kissed you sweetly before saying, "Alright, tag chaser. Let's go for a walk."

Laughter bubbled out of you as Bradley helped you to your feet, lacing his fingers with yours and leading you unhurriedly out of the main ballroom and down a quiet hallway. "Where are we going?" you finally asked when he led you through a propped door next to the kitchens. There were some waiters and bartenders outside smoking, and Bradley pulled you right past them and around to the back of the building. 

"Somewhere you can admire my new rank in private, Sugar."

"Oh," you gasped when he pushed you carefully up against the building, caging you in with his body. He took your left hand and kissed your palm and fingertips before pressing them to his new pin. 

"And somewhere I can admire you," he added in the softest whisper. "I haven't seen you in this dress since our reunion. It's my favorite thing on you besides my Grateful Dead shirt."

His kisses were so soft, but you clenched around nothing as he spread your legs with his knee and pressed his thigh against you. "It's for special occasions," you whispered as your lips skimmed his. You could hear the conversation and smell the faint cigarette smoke, reminding you that you weren't alone. But that just made it even better when he started to hike up your dress, letting you feel the cool, night air on your bare skin.

"Oh god," you moaned into his mouth between sweet kisses when you felt the scratch of his white pants against your clit. "Beer Boy." 

"Hmm," he hummed against your mouth as he gently palmed your bare butt with one big hand, planting his other hand next to your head on the building. He guided you up his thigh, and the pressure against your clit left you gasping. Your hands went to the back of his neck, and he held eye contact with you as you started to rock. "You're gorgeous."

"Bradley."

"And smart. Always so far out of my league," he added, and you clenched again as he kissed your cheek. He was so solid and warm, and your brain was in a fog as he said, "I want you to do it."

"Do what?" you whined, hips rocking against his thigh at the tempo he set with his big hand. 

He squeezed you, digging his fingers into the round of your rear end as he told you, "I want you to mess up my pants, Sugar." He cupped your chin. "Mark me up. Get me all wet. Like you own me."

When your head tipped back, you gasped. You nudged his length as you rolled your hips, but Bradley just said, "Keep going. Keep going." You were practically dangling from his neck as you held onto him and wiggled against him, grinding and humping until you were almost there. "That's it," he encouraged, reading it on your face. "Good girl."

That's all it took as your walls fluttered. "Bradley!" you whined, and his lips found yours as you came, feeling yourself gush just like he wanted. "Oh my god." He kissed you harder before you could get too loud, and your pussy was soaking wet as he guided his knee away from your body as you chased him until your front was pressed completely to his. 

Your dress fell back into place, and he wrapped his hands around your waist as his crooked grin returned. He was fully erect, hard in his white pants, and you were about to offer to take care of it for him when he said, "Let's get back inside and have dessert while I show off my pants, and then I'll take you home and let you suck my cock."

Still whimpering, he paraded you back inside with his pant leg wet at the exact same height as your pussy. 

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

Bradley slept like a log after you sucked him off so long and so well, he even dreamed about you showing off your pretty mouth full of his cum before you swallowed. You'd whispered, "I love you, Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," to him so many times as he dozed off, of course he was startled when he woke up alone. He grunted your name, hand roaming around your side of the bed before he heard the shower running.

He reached down to stroke his cock with a smile, the thought of your body warm and wet with water cascading down back had him a little hard already. The sweet scent of your body wash filled the air, sending Bradley's legs swinging over the edge of the bed to get to you. But then he froze when he saw his white uniform pants on the floor from last night, and his mind drifted. Friday night, you had his khakis in the Bronco, and Saturday you had his dress whites while he got promoted. You deserved everything this weekend, so he turned toward the closet to dig out his third uniform for your grinding pleasure. 

He was grinning as he buttoned up his jacket, affixing his new pin to the front before tossing his blue hat on his head as he heard you call out from the bathroom. "Oh, good, you're up. I had this fun thought that maybe you could-"

You froze in the doorway, completely naked with a pair of clean underwear in your hand, and you bit your lip as you took in his appearance. Bradley watched as you pressed your thighs together, but he knew you'd be spreading them for him soon.

"Maybe I could what?" he asked, voice deep and raspy as you took a few steps closer, closing the distance to him.

You looked up at him, tapping his new pin with your index finger as he stood tall for you. "You read my mind. I was going to say maybe you could change into your dress blues for me," you whispered. "Let me have all three this weekend."

Bradley groaned as you pushed him back toward the edge of the bed where he sat down hard. When you came to stand between his splayed legs, he reached out to wrap his hands around your thighs as you cupped his cheeks and kissed him. Your skin was warm, and when he slid his hands up, he traced your ass with his thumbs, loving how you'd filled out since college. 

"It's all yours, Sugar," he said, kissing along your tits and tasting your skin before you turned your back to him. "Oh, hell," he moaned as you planted your palms on his thighs and bent a little bit before slowly wiggling your ass from side to side against the front of his pants. "What are you doing, Baby?" he rasped, heart thudding as he brought his hands up to your hips while you essentially gave him a lap dance. If you wanted to turn the bedroom into his own private champagne room, he was not about to complain.

"Warming up my seat," you whispered, bumping back on his cock. When you turned to look at him over your shoulder, Bradley leaned forward to kiss your shoulder, and you arched your back for him before you straddled his left thigh. "This okay?" you asked as your back rested against his chest. When you glanced at him again, your lips were so close, he had to kiss them.

"Baby, you do whatever you want to me," he crooned, letting his hands drift to the front of your body. He circled your clit with his middle finger and smiled as his mouth found your neck. Your pussy was nice and wet, just the way he wanted it on his pants, and your ass bumped his cock every time you moved. 

Bradley took his time, moving his finger at the pace he knew you liked as he sucked gently on your neck and shoulder. "You smell good," he whispered before nipping you and licking you over and over again. With every roll of your hips, he thought about bending you over and fucking the absolute shit out of you, but he'd let you have your fun first. 

"A little harder, Beer Boy," you whined, looking back at him as he pressed his finger into your clit until you gasped. Your eyes were half lidded as you planted both of your hands on his leg just above his left knee. "That's so good."

He had only ever been truly good for you. He only ever planned on being good and sweet and everything you needed. When your back arched in pleasure again, you started to rock and grind, treating him to the sight of your perfect ass rubbing his cock. His pants felt snug, and then he thought about how tight your pussy was and he yanked you back against him, making you squeal in delight as he nibbled your ear. 

"You got me really wound up," he growled. Every movement had you rubbing up on him while he swiped his finger up and down your slick clit as you babbled. The faster he moved his finger, the closer you got. And the harder you rocked against his cock. "Jesus, Sugar."

"Can't help it," you gasped, reaching for his hand and pulling it from your clit up to your mouth. "I'm so close." And then you licked his fingers before taking them between your lips, rocking back as you humped his leg. 

You were his wife, always treating him to the finest things in bed and out, but you were feral right now, whining and moaning his name. He explored the front of your body with his other hand, pinching your nipples and squeezing. You got louder, bumping his cock in a delicious rhythm as you sucked away on his fingers. 

He wanted your pussy and your mouth and your tits, every part of your body wrapped around his cock. He wanted it sloppy, just how he knew you could get as your tongue swirled around his fingers. He wanted you every single fucking way. 

"Baby," he groaned, your saliva running down to his palm as your back arched again. "Oh, shit."

His hand settled around the front of your neck as your voice rose, a pretty crescendo of a needy whine as you jerked your hips and came on him. "Bradley!" You were loud now, grabbing at both of his thighs to keep yourself seated as you rode out your orgasm, but it was too late for him as your right hand slid back to grab his cock.

Two loud grunts in your ear, and he came, too. Right in his dress blues. 

He was still thrusting against your hand when you groaned, "I got your pants soaking wet," as your hips slowed down. When you looked back at him one more time, you whispered, "I love you. Tell me how you want me to get you off."

Bradley could feel the stinging heat rising in his cheeks as you gently nibbled his lips and then stood on shaky legs in front of him. You kissed him and knocked his hat off before you reached for the fly of his blue pants. He had to take your hands in his to still them. "You already got me off," he muttered. 

You looked puzzled before you ran your hand lower to his softening cock, and then he saw the realization of what just happened dawning on your perfect face. Your lips parted on a moan that had him reaching to pull your body against him. "That's so hot," you whispered, your voice sounding desperate again. "That's so fucking hot, Beer Boy."

In one swift motion, you pushed him onto his back and straddled his waist, leaning down so your bare breasts rubbed his pins. "You're so fucking hot," he promised as you licked the side of his neck and whimpered, letting your pussy rest on his uniform jacket now.

"How fast can you get hard again?" you asked, taking his wrists in your hands and pinning them above his head before your lips returned to his neck. 

Bradley grinned and closed his eyes, enjoying your little whimpers next to his ear. "With you on top of me, Sugar? I'd say pretty damn fast."

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

I love these two, and I think Sugar deserved a nice weekend. Congratulations to Beer Boy! And happy birthday, Jay! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[vivalas-vega]

unexpected / bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader

howdy y'all - we've got another rooster fic. i feel i've neglected this man too much on my blog and wanna start writing for him more so here we are with a fleet week fic inspired by my own journey onto a navy ship yesterday!!! (the similarities between my fic and the real deal start and end with waiting in line. my guide was cute but let's just say he was no bradley bradshaw). it was very cool and educational and if your city does fleet week i highly recommend checking it out! this fic will have maybe three parts total. anyways hope you enjoy :)

unexpected / bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader

follow my taglist blog and turn on notifications to be updated @vegaslibrary

word count: 3.2k

warnings: slight language, naval inaccuracies!! (even tho I just did my own fleet week tour I still don't know shit, I'm just a girl)

The ocean breeze filtered through your hair as you stood off to the side, eyes fixated on the impressive carriers in front of you. The sun felt hot on your skin and excitement was buzzing through your veins as you listened to your best friend in your ear… well, half-listened.

“We’re brunching! Come on, meet us at Malibu Farm,” Maggie said and you sighed.

“I told you it’s Fleet Week, I’m already down here,” you replied and you could feel her eyes roll on the other side of the phone.

“I would be supportive if you were trying to bag one of those Navy hotties but come on… bottomless mimosas and all the dirt on Stephanie’s breakup are better than some boats,” she said.

“I will see you for drinks tonight,” was all you replied before hanging up. You’d tried (very unsuccessfully) to convince some of your friends to come with you, telling them about how cool these carriers were and how you only got the chance to see them up close and personal once a year but they had zero interest… you were the only one in your circle who found this sort of thing interesting, and you would have been bummed except for the fact that you were more than okay doing things by yourself.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to go to a concert or a museum solo, you actually enjoyed it… you loved hanging out with your friends but it was nice to not be tied to what the majority of the group wanted to do (or didn’t want to do), and as you waited in line you were actually a little glad none of them had taken you up on your offer. If Maggie were here she’d be ogling the cute officer who appeared to be getting ready to take your group on board, and she’d spend the whole tour trying to flirt with him instead of listening to what he had to say. 

You were content to wait in line as long as it took, taking in the beautiful ships to your left before switching to people watching, you knew this week drew all kinds of visitors and you found it entertaining to see such an eclectic mix of people all in one space… there were the obvious ex-Navy types, returning to their roots and reliving the glory days, there were couples who looked a little out of their element but excited for something new to do as a date, and families with kids… you even spotted an entire elementary class on a field trip. Spare your friend group, most people were more than interested in the opportunity to spend a day aboard multi-million dollar vessels and you were one of them.

Across the way Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw was chatting with his teammates about how much they wanted today to be over… it wasn’t that he hated Fleet Week, because he did enjoy it for about the first hour, but after that it became tiresome to give the same spiel over and over and over. They’d all tried to get out of it, Natasha had even gone so far as trying to manifest a deployment, but according to the higher ups there was no excuse for the Navy’s best and brightest to not make an appearance at an event happening so close to their home base. 

But then he saw you and he couldn’t help but smile as he watched you seem so enamored by everything around you… you didn’t hold an ounce of annoyance over the fact you’d been standing in that same spot going on half an hour now, something he’d seen from other visitors a dozen times already, and when a gust of wind kicked up your hair and sent it fluttering around your face you gave a half hearted attempt to tame it, but really you were just enjoying the breeze and the sun on your skin and he knew he had to know your name. He watched Jake getting ready to take your group aboard and he had to know if you’d abandon the formal tour in favor of letting him take you up instead.

You were eavesdropping on a conversation between a sailor and a kid just ahead of you, a soft smile on your lips as you listened to just how excited both parties were to be talking about the ship in front of you and you were so focused on them that you didn’t notice a person approaching you, not until his shadow cast across your face and when you turned you saw a man who nearly knocked the wind out of you… he was tall and solid, arms straining against the short sleeves of his khaki uniform and you thought that no one should look good in that color yet here he was proving you wrong. His golden brown waves glistened in the direct sunlight and he had a slight smirk beneath a mustache that you really wanted to hate, but you really didn’t… he was handsome, potentially one of the most handsome men you’d ever seen, and here he was standing directly in front of you and you looked up at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something.

“Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw, ma’am,” he introduced, extending his hand for you to shake which you did as you gave him your name and a smile. “What brings you out today?”

“A bizarre fascination with ships the size of planets,” you replied and he laughed. It was warm and a little rough around the edges, much like you’d appraised him to be in your short interaction, and you wanted to hear it again.

“Well, my day wrapped up not too long ago and I couldn’t help but notice you waiting for a tour…” he started, leaning in slightly with a mischievous look on his face as if he was about to tell you a secret, “and between you and me, your tour guide is a dud.” he finished and you looked towards the man, tall, blonde and oozing charisma and you had a feeling Bradley was lying to you as you watched him charm the entirety of your group with one sentence… but you weren’t feeling too keen on calling him out on his fib.

“Oh no, is that so?” you replied, disappointment lacing your tone.

“Mmhm,” he hummed. “I think you oughta let me take you up, make sure you get the tour you deserve,” he propositioned and you nodded, a smirk tugging at your lips.

“I think that might be for the best… for the sake of a thorough Navy education and all,” you said and he nodded, gesturing towards the ramp and he held out his hand for you to take as you pulled yourself onto the steep landing. His hand was warm in yours and all-encompassing as he held it and made sure you made it safely before letting it fall back to your side and you were almost a little disappointed when he did.

He led you into the cargo hold, a massive room filled with so many things your eyes had a hard time adjusting at first. You trailed alongside him as he explained everything to you, sparing no detail as he went and you were particularly fascinated by the boat that was rigged to be deployed at a moments notice, positioned right in front of a hatch door, and he told you it was primarily there for search and rescue missions as he rattled off information about how long it takes to get it down into the water and pointed out the crane used to move it around as needed.

You listened with rapt attention as you continued through, you added a quip or a question here and there but mostly you were hanging onto his every word as he pointed out things like their freezer and the gym, and you realized you might have been content to listen to this man read you his grocery list and you had to make a conscious effort to focus on the words themselves and not just the voice that was speaking them. As you made your way up a steep and narrow stairwell, so much so you might have described it closer to a ladder than stairs, he stayed right behind you where he could catch you if you fell and you tried to ignore the fact that his diligence almost made you want to fall.

“There’s a lot up here,” he said as he led you down a hallway lined with doors, “but it’s mostly just bunks and offices. We’re not technically supposed to show you this, but… I won’t tell if you won’t,” he added as he pushed one of the doors open and you pretended to lock your lips and throw away the key as you peeked inside, taking in the modest living quarters with multiple twin beds.

“So, this is where you sleep when you’re deployed?” you asked and he nodded, brow furrowing when you looked at him, clearly skeptical about something as your eyes trailed him top to bottom before returning to the beds in front of you, “how do you even fit?” you followed up and immediately you flushed, not meaning to ask that at all but it was the first thing that popped into your head and it flew out of your mouth before you could stop it.

“Not comfortably, sweetheart,” he replied with a laugh and you smiled softly at the term of endearment as he shut the door and nodded for you to follow. He talked about the photos lining the walls, telling you who was who or what was what in the ones he recognized before you went up another stairwell and before you could walk through the door frame in front of you he placed his hands on your shoulders, stopping you in your tracks.

You turned your head to look at him, an unasked question on your face, and he gave you that addictive smirk of his, “now this is the really fun part that very few people get to see,” he prefaced and you felt anticipation brimming as he kept his hands on you and guided you forward.

“Just breaking all the rules today aren’t you, Lieutenant Bradshaw?” you replied and he wanted to tell you that you could just call him Bradley but one look at the mischief in your eyes told him you knew that… you just liked calling him Lieutenant and he liked hearing it too much to stop you. When you turned your attention forward you were faced with two beautiful jets right in front of you and you faltered for a moment, stunned by the sheer impressiveness of the aircrafts.

“Holy shit,” you muttered, careful of your step as you approached one of them and Bradley tried to commit that look of awe on your features to memory, his heart stuttering at the sight. You instinctively reached a hand out before snapping it back, realizing you probably shouldn’t be touching things with price tags you couldn’t comprehend.

He chuckled, “go ahead, it’s mine so do your worst.” 

He thought you might get whiplash with how quickly you turned to face him, “yours? How have we made it through this whole tour without you mentioning you’re a pilot?”

“Thought I’d keep you on your toes,” he replied as you returned your focus to his jet, hand trailing along the smooth metal as you walked around it.

“I never thought I’d get to see an F/A-18 in person… at least not one that’s active,” you sighed, and now he was certain his heart had stopped in his chest. “Tops out at what, twelve hundred?” you asked and he blinked in surprise, only able to nod in response because he didn’t quite trust his words right now. He knew he liked you as soon as he saw you, so much so he was taking you on his tenth tour of the day when all he’d wanted to do previously was go to the bar, but now he was worried he was in a little over his head as you appreciated his jet, having identified it immediately without any help from him. “God, this is incredible, Bradley,” you said, maybe a little breathless from how excited you were and before you knew it he was disappearing, leaving you standing at the nose with a confused expression.

You laughed when he returned, rolling a ladder to the side of his jet and beckoning you over. He hadn’t anticipated you to know anything about planes, or really have any interest beyond the first minute of being in front of it, but now that he knew otherwise he wanted to show you everything. He held onto your hand as you took each step, trailing right behind you just as he had in the stairwells and when you got to the landing he started pulling the canopy back and you let out another soft gasp.

“Can you get in trouble for this?” you asked, turning to look at him. You knew private tours with high ranking pilots were not standard for Fleet Week, and you also knew this wasn’t an area most people would be allowed in, and you worried for a brief moment what would happen to him if anyone caught you.

He shook his head, “you’re accompanied by a Lieutenant, we’re fine,” he answered, smiling as you leaned over slightly to look inside his cockpit and his heart was thudding in his chest at the sheer wonder in your eyes. He started pointing out all of the controls, telling you what they did and why, and he answered your every question just as he had with the rest of the ship. “Sweetheart, I’ve gotta be honest… I’ve never met anyone who gave a damn about these jets that didn't work in or around them already.” 

You pulled your attention back to him with an incredulous look, “how could they not?” you asked, and you wanted to keep your gaze on those pretty brown eyes that were locked on you, but the novelty hadn’t quite worn off yet and you looked back inside the jet. “I mean… this is next level engineering wrapped up in a pretty package, what’s better than that?” He thought you were beautiful when he saw you standing on your own with your hair blowing in the breeze and the sun kissing your skin, he thought you were beautiful when you laughed at his dumb jokes in the cargo hold, but right now he was certain he’d never seen anything more beautiful than you slightly bent over and leaning into his cockpit as you truly appreciated the one thing he loved most in this world.

“Please let me take you on a date,” he blurted out, unable to stop himself and you looked at him a little surprised. You’d been hoping since he approached you that he’d ask, but you couldn’t help but laugh a little at the unexpected timing.

“Ask me again after the tour,” you replied with a smirk and though it vaguely sounded like rejection he couldn’t help but smile. If you wanted to make him work for it then he absolutely would. You asked him a question about the gauges and he told you exactly what they measured, and when you finally made your way back down the ladder he even let you sit on the second to last step as he wheeled it back to its place.

“Bradley!” you squealed when he whipped it around, hands bracing on the poles on either side of you and you were a little breathless when you were suddenly facing him, looking up at him as his strong hands gripped just above your head as he continued pushing you through the open area.

“Just wanted a better view,” he replied and you flushed at the compliment. Even though it was only two steps he still offered you his hand as you got off and of course you still accepted it, lingering for a moment before dropping it. He took you back through the carrier a different way than you’d came so he could show you absolutely everything, still narrating as he went. Truthfully, there wasn’t much difference on this route than the other but it was longer and he wanted to drag this out. He knew as soon as you stepped off the ship he wouldn’t have any reason to keep you longer than he already had, and he wanted to postpone that moment as long as he could. 

When you entered the now familiar cargo hold you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed, you didn’t want your time with Bradley to come to an end but it seemed it was inevitable as he led you down the ramp and back onto solid ground. Your eyes were bright when you turned to face him and you still had that smile on that hadn’t seemed to leave your face all day and it was another sight he wanted to commit to memory. You had surprised the hell out of him, turned his boring day around the second he saw you and he knew with certainty he couldn’t get enough of you… and you were in the exact same boat. You knew when you got here today you’d have a good time, that the other man Bradley insisted was a dud still would have given a good tour and you’d have gotten exactly what you came for but the man in front of you exceeded every one of your expectations and then some, and you weren’t looking forward to the moment you had to go back to your car and not have his eyes on you anymore.

“Bradley, that was…” you sighed, “that was incredible, I don’t really know how to thank you for that.”

“Let me take you out,” he replied easily and you flushed, the tour was over and he was wasting no time in asking you out again, and this time you let him. 

You nodded, “I’m free tonight.” His grin was wide as he fished his phone out of his pocket for you to input your number, and you couldn’t help but mirror him when he told you to put your address as well so he could pick you up… if this was anyone else, if you hadn’t just spent the afternoon with him catering to your every query and whim, you would have told him no. You would have said you could meet him somewhere, but you trusted him. The few hours spent together showed you that you could, and that wasn’t lost on Bradley. If you’d said no he wouldn’t have even blinked, he would have suggested something else that made you more comfortable, but you didn’t say no… and that caused his chest to tighten as he looked down at your beautiful smile.

“I’ll pick you up at seven,” he said, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your cheek and you felt your skin tingling as he pulled away. “Wear something comfortable.”

You nodded, a little curious as to what he could have planned but you could just tell if you asked he wouldn’t say, and you were more than happy to let this man surprise you. “I’ll see you tonight, Bradley.”

“And I’ll be counting down every second.”

[worldofheroes]

Rooster’s TLC

bradley “rooster” bradshaw x fem!reader

summary: rooster takes care of you after you had a little too much to drink

warnings: alcohol, hangovers, fluffy rooster

wc: 507

a/n: based on this request! a short and sweet fic, and we all know bradley is super sweet like his dad 🥰

You’ve almost quite literally wrapped yourself around Rooster at The Hard Deck. Snuggled into his side with one of his arms wrapped around you.

He’s talking to the Dagger Squad about who knows what, you’re not paying much attention to them.

You do know, however, that it’s getting late and you want to go home. You’ve gotten a little antsy, and Phoenix has picked up on it.

“Rooster, take your girl home. She’s tired,” Phoenix smiles.

Rooster looks down at you. “Is that what is happening here?” he teases you.

“Roo,” you whine.

“Okay, okay,” he chuckles, kissing your head. “We’re headed out, see you all later.”

The two of you recieve a chorus of “goodnight”s from the squad as you leave.

“You had a little too much to drink, huh?” Rooster says as he helps you into the Bronco.

“Just a little,” you agree. “I’m gonna hate myself tomorrow.”

“Let’s get you home and get some water then go to bed,” Rooster says as he gets in on the drivers side.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Rooster turns the radio on, but doesn’t turn the volume up too far - just enough to hear a little bit of a beat.

As you make your way back home, Rooster’s hand wanders over to your side, settling on your thigh. You place your hand over his.

“I love you,” you tell him.

“I love you too, y/n.”

Rooster gives your thigh a squeeze, and you hate that you’re slightly turned on just by his touch.

When you finally make it home, Rooster again helps you out of the Bronco and into the house.

“Roos,” you mumble.

“I’m right here. Let’s get you to the couch,” he tells you as he guides you to the couch.

You fall onto the couch and lay on your side as Rooster puts a blanket over you.

“I have such a bad headache.”

“I know,” Rooster says as he walks to the kitchen to find some pain killers.

“I love you, Roo,” you mumble.

Rooster comes back with some water and painkillers.

“I love you, y/n,” Rooster says softly. “Let’s sit up so you can drink something.”

You slowly sit up and take the painkillers and a drink of water.

“Can you stay down here with me?” you ask him.

“You don’t think you can make it to bed?” Rooster asks, setting a hand on your thigh.

“No,” you say. “I don’t feel good at all.”

“Okay, I can stay here.”

“Thank you.”

Rooster grabs some cushions from the other couch and places them on the floor by the couch you’re laying on. He grabs a blanket and sits on the cushions, watching you.

“You’re really sweet, Bradley,” you say, curling up under the blanket.

“I’d do anything for you, baby,” he says, leaning over and kissing your cheek.

“I love you,” you mumble.

Rooster chuckles. “I love you too.”

You start to drift off to sleep, and Rooster stays by your side the entire night, checking on you every so often.

[mothdruid]

Mine

pairing. werewolf!Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x afab!reader

word count. 2.4k

warnings. this is an 18+ piece of work, minors buzz off. 18+, mdni, smut, werewolf smut, penetrative sex (p in v), oral sex (fem receiving), possessiveness/jealousy, knotting, cream pie, bradley is in human form but his dick has a knot (sorry, not sorry)

author's note. this is my first out of three spooky-ish fics for this month. they will all be werewolves and it will be werewolf sex. bradbrad is first, bobert second, jacob third. enjoy!

Bradley had always had a possessiveness about you. Ever since the moment he met you it started. It could have been because you were his mate, or at least that’s what his wolf instincts said. His human brain helped decipher the animal instincts, keep them at bay for the most part. But every now and then they slip and run loose. Just like tonight.

The two of you had gone out for some drinks with the rest of the pack. It was Halloween, the only time of the year that most of them felt appreciated to a degree. It was all going smoothly, that was until some guy tried to hit on you. Or actually, he bought you a drink and hit on you. Bradley was having none of that shit. Red had blurred his vision the moment he saw it, instinct kicking in.

Everyone in the pack noticed immediately. They all stiffened as Bradley sauntered across the bar towards you. All he kept thinking was about how you were merely supposed to just get new drinks, and now this dick weasel was trying to get what was his.

You could feel his presence immediately, turning your head slightly to make sure it was him. It wasn’t that you were planning for this to happen. You never planned to prod at Bradley’s jealous side, but when he got jealous, or possessive as he called it, you got excited. It always meant a good fuck and excellent aftercare. So, when it happened you let it, not trying to reason with the instincts inside of him.

When his hand wrapped around your waist excitement shot through you. Bradley nuzzled into you jaw lightly, nothing too over kill. The man who was trying to hit on you gave an extremely offended look, confused about the sight in front of him. That’s when you decided to play a little innocent, giving him a confused look back.

“Hey, pal, I was talking to her first,” the guy eventually said.

All Bradley did was look up at him, eyes full of anger. The man immediately stiffened and left, muttering something about how he wasted his money. Once he was gone Bradley’s grip on your waist tightened, pulling you closer to his body. You placed your hand over his and turned to look at him better.

“Jealous?”

“I don’t like to share,” Bradley growled low into your ear.

“You know that wasn’t going to happen,” you assured him.

Bradley’s eyes met yours, sending a thrill down your spine. The green in his hazel eyes looked vibrant, the green monster of envy bleeding through. A shaky breath left you as you held your gaze to his. He used the arm wrapped around your back to turn you towards him. His free hand settled against your left hip, close to the hands that was gripping the left side of your waist. Your body was pressed close to his now.

“Bradley,” his name was barely above a whisper.

“We’re going home.”

There wasn’t even time to say goodbye before he was ushering you to the Bronco. A few people were outside smoking, only taking notice of you two once Bradley pressed you against the Bronco. Hot breath fanned over your neck, lips ghosting over your skin. It was as if he was scenting you, making sure you still smelled completely like him.

“Bradley, people are staring,” you whimpered.

“Let them,” he nipped the space below your ear, “everyone needs to know you’re mine.”

A soft moan left you as he rolled his hips against yours. Your hands ran over his clothed chest, fingers gripping his shirt lightly. He slipped his knee between your legs and gripped your hips. He guided your hips over his thigh, groaning as he watched you start to ride his thigh. Bradley latched his lips onto your neck, licking and biting the skin while listening to your moans.

The pressure was from his thigh was intoxicating. The way his thigh was so firm against you. You were clenching at the sensation, moaning each time you rolled your hips down. Wetness was starting to dampen your underwear. It was just enough but not enough at all.

“Such a slut,” Bradley growled into your skin, “riding my thigh in front of everyone, letting them know that you’re mine.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” A small amount of snark in your voice.

Bradley groaned then rested his head on your shoulder. Without warning he opened the door to the Bronco. The noise startled you enough to stop your movements. Bradley pulled back a little bit, smelling your junction of your neck and shoulder momentarily.

“Get in,” Bradley commanded while removing his body from yours.

Without a second thought you nodded your head. You climb into the passenger seat, the door harshly closed once you were settled. Bradley rounded the car quickly, needing to get you home as soon as possible. He had to have you whining under him as he reminded you of who you belonged to. He knew that you knew, but just needed to be inside of you of while you screamed his name. Needed to get his knot deep inside your cunt.

Once he got into the driver seat he groaned, fists tightening on the steering wheel. You were drenched, he could fucking smell it. He contemplated taking you in the car right now. The only thing that stopped him was the space. There wasn’t enough space for him to throw you around, spread you out while he ravished you.

The sweet smell of your wetness was driving him wild, threatening to push him over the edge. His grip was tight on the steering wheel the whole drive back. Instincts were telling him that you were in need, needing him to fuck you until you were so full of his cum you couldn’t take it anymore. When the two of you arrived home it took everything in him not to simply fuck you on the porch. But once you were in the door, nothing could stop him.

You barely had time to take your shoes off before he was dragging you to the bedroom. Your back hit the bed with a small bounce. Bradley took his t-shirt off before blanketing you with his body. The warmth was radiating into your bones, frying your nerves in the process. Your hands were fumbling across Bradley’s skin, trying to find a spot to grab. Eventually Bradley grabbed both your hands, effectively pinning you to the bed.

“God,” Bradley took a deep sniff of your scent, “you’re practically fucking begging me for it.”

He slotted himself between your thighs, reveling in the way you moaned at his words. Immediately he started rutting against you, groaning deep in your ear. You rolled your hips back, whining at the pressure you had missed. You could feel his cock through his jeans and yours. You could swear that you could feel his knot throbbing at the base of his cock, threatening to pop at any moment.

With the way his hips were rolling, you were sure that you were going to cum. But then suddenly he stopped, letting go of your hands too. Without warning he started undressing you. He let out a groan when he saw your bare chest, taking a nipple into his mouth instantly. The noise you were making were heaven to his ears, adding more fuel to his fire.

A gasp left you as he bite your nipple. You barely even noticed him pulling your pants off you. It was the noise of your panties being torn that pulled you slightly out of your pleasure. Bradley moved your body quickly, grabbed your thighs and shoved the apart even further. The thought of his grip bruising your thighs sent a thrill down your spine. You loved when he bruised you, Bradley did too. That possessive wolf trait being overjoyed when it happens.

It was like he was a dog in a drought the way he lapped at your cunt. Broad strokes continued over your clit while you moaned. Bradley wrapped one arm around your left thigh, keeping you close to him. Pleasure kept mounting inside of your abdomen, your body starting to quiver from it. Bradley loved it though. Watching you fall apart on his tongue. It was almost as fulfilling as when you fell apart on his cock.

One of your hands moved out to clutch the bedding, the other moved to Bradley’s hair. You tugged at his locks, earning you a groan from Bradley. The vibrations traveled through your core and pulled a moan from you.

“Bradley, I’m clo-”

“Not until I say.”

A sound of disappointment left you when Bradley detached from you. He sat back on his heels, unbuckling his belt while staring down at you. It was if he had run a marathon, chest heaving and face red. A smirk formed on his face as he looked at your body. Sometimes he couldn’t believe that you were his, wondering how he was so lucky.

“Now dearest,” Bradley pushed his pants and boxers down his hips, “did you really think I was gonna let you cum so quickly, especially after that stunt at the bar?”

All you could do was stare, words suddenly escaping you.

“Such a slut,” Bradley stroked himself. He moved closer to you, running the tip of his cock through your folds. It was almost like you could feel the head of his cock throbbing.

“Please,” you begged.

“You think begging is going to get you anywhere?” Bradley lined himself up with your entrance.

After a moment he pushed inside of you. The stretch had you arching your back, moaning loudly in pleasure. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head. His hips started at a brutal pace, fucking you hard and fast. He leaned down over you, his face now level with yours. His smirk was devilish while he fucked you wildly. Fucked you like the animal he was.

“First, you flirt with that shit head,” Bradley growled, “then you act so innocent, knowing damn well you’re my slut.” Bradley thrust deep in you, stilling his hips flush against yours. “Next you’re begging as if I won’t take care of you. Do I need to remind you who you belong to? Make sure you don’t forget who fucks,” he rolled his hips slightly, “you, who takes care of you after you’re full of me?”

“No, I’m yours, I know I’m yours,” you whined, brain barely working.

“Need me to mark you?” Bradley said, grip tightening on your wrists. He leaned down near the junction of your neck and shoulder. His hot breath ghosted over the spot, tongue darting out for a moment to run over it. “Then everyone will know, everyone will see that you’re mine.”

A whine emanated out of you, his words making you clench around his cock. The two of you had discussed it once, but had never revisited the topic. Marking was special, bonding the two of you together forever. It felt more risky than marriage, no matter how many times Bradley said he knew you were the one. But using it as a threat, it had you like putty in his hand.

“Does that turn you on? The thought of everyone knowing how well I fuck you from a simple glance?” Bradley growled then nipped your ear. His thrusts resumed, a littler slower this time, but still full of power.

Noises kept pouring from you, Bradley’s personal favorite soundtrack. A mix of sweat and sex filled the air around you two. Bradley was able to pick up on only a few more scents, but they were all of you. He finally let go of your wrists, hands snaking underneath you to hold you close. His thrusts were heavy, pounding deep into you and hitting that perfect spot inside of you. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, one hand clawing his skin while the other threaded through his hair.

That’s when you started to feel it. Bradley’s knot. The base of his cock was starting to swell, his knot becoming more pronounced. It was starting to catch on your entrance slightly, sending more waves of pleasure through you. Within the matter of seconds you were coming on his cock. And he felt all of it.

Bradley worked you through your orgasm. He was trying to fight his off, wanting to make sure you got the most out of yours. But he couldn’t hold off that long. Only a few seconds later he was coming, knot popping out and locking the two of you together. Your moan got caught in your throat, the sensation of being even more full numbing your mind. All Bradley could do was rock a little bit, but not enough to have his knot hurt you. He pressed soft kisses to the side of your neck and face, hands gliding up and down your side in a comforting manor.

“You okay?” He whispered, wanting to make sure he wasn’t too harsh.

“I’m good, I’m good,” your voice was breathy.

You ran your hands through his hair lightly. He rested his head down on your chest, knowing the two of you were going to be like this for the next thirty minutes.

“I’m sorry,” Bradley whispered into your skin.

“For what?” You asked while you started to trace patterns over his back.

“For being like that,” Bradley knew he was possessive, but after the haze wore off he got embarrassed.

“Don’t be,” you pressed a kiss to the top of his head, “it’s pretty hot.”

Thirty minutes passed and Bradley’s knot finally subsided. He removed himself from you as gently as possible. Both of you let out a noise of relief and disappointment. You felt his cum start to leak out of you, which you grimaced at. Bradley quickly ran to the bathroom, getting a warm wet washcloth. He carefully cleaned you up when he returned. The two of you laid next to one another, his arm draped over you to keep you close.

“I don’t actually think you’re a slut,” Bradley said quietly.

It always made you laugh a little bit. It had to be the embarrassment, there was no other explanation. Any time this happened he would get in his feelings, worried about what he said while basically controlled by animal instincts. But no matter what you always reassured him.

“I know you don’t, Bradley,” you paused for a a moment, “and Bradley?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

[moonlight-prose]

✧ KINKTOBER 2023 ✧

Once more kinktober is upon us! Spooky season has officially arrived and with a new set of filthy fics to give us all a fun time. While I was going to skip doing it this year altogether, I figured what was the fun in that? I am adamant on finishing this list this year which means I will be writing my ass off. So here's to a fun filled filthy October. Here we go!

minors dni. this content is not for you in the slightest. everything here is 18+ only. you will be blocked on sight.

i don’t keep taglists anymore but i do have a library blog that is updated whenever i post a fic.

reblogs, comments, and feedback is always welcome!

WEEK ONE: 10/1 - 10/8 ──── "I am the love witch."

day one: hair pulling + choking - joel miller

day two: photos - mickey "fanboy" garcia

day three: handjob + mirror sex - frankie morales

day four: cockwarning + dirty talk - jake "hangman" seresin

day five: guided masturbation + intercrural sex - marc spector

day six: spit kink - joaquín torres

day seven: creampie - steven grant

day eight: double penetration + threesome - bradley "rooster" bradshaw x f!reader x jake "hangman" seresin

WEEK TWO: 10/9 - 10/16 ──── "I have crossed oceans of time to find you."

day nine: blood play - miguel o'hara

day ten: thigh riding - jake lockley

day eleven: shower sex - joel miller

day twelve: mutual masturbation + phone sex - steven grant

day thirteen: overstimulation - tommy miller

day fourteen: nipple play + scissoring - natasha "phoenix" trace

day fifteen: cunnilingus + cum eating - bradley "rooster" bradshaw

day sixteen: sixty-nine + anal play - marc spector

WEEK THREE: 10/17 - 10/24 ──── "Tonight I gave you my soul, and I am dead."

day seventeen: deep throating - mickey "fanboy" garcia

day eighteen: sex pollen - miguel o'hara

day nineteen: dry humping - cassian andor

day twenty: praise kink - joel miller

day twenty-one: breath play + fingering - anakin skywalker

day twenty-two: rough sex + dom/sub - tommy miller

day twenty-three: restraints - din djarin

day twenty-four: sex toys + orgasm control - jake lockley

WEEK FOUR: 10/25 - 10/31 ──── "The finest of pleasures are always the unexpected ones."

day twenty-five: oral fixation - joel miller

day twenty-six: exhibitionism - steven grant

day twenty-seven: strip tease - bradley "rooster" bradshaw

day twenty-eight: consensual somnophilia - joaquín torres

day twenty-nine: biting/marking + squirting - miguel o'hara

day thirty: breeding - din djarin

day thirty-one: dealer's choice!

[tongue-like-a-razor]

🌹

Thanks for the rose 🥰 This one's from Rooster's Guide to the Great Outdoors!

Bradley pulls out a couple of flashlights from his bag and hands you one. “In case you need to go out during the night.”

“Why would I need to leave at night?” you ask in alarm.

“To pee?” he says with an amused grin.

You stare at him unblinkingly. “I forgot about that.”

Bradley laughs. “You would have remembered eventually.”

You eye him nervously. “And I have to go alone?”

“Well, that depends on how comfortable you are with me seeing you pee in the wilderness.”

You consider this for a moment before responding decisively, “More comfortable than I am being attacked by a grizzly bear.”

Bradley chuckles lightly. “There are no grizzly bears here. But I’ll come with you.”

You nod, realizing that the two of you are about to get very familiar with one another. “Okay, thank you.”

Bradley pulls a pack of cards out of his bag. “Crazy eights?” he says. “While there’s still light?”

[sonofarathorn]

Use Me

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.6k Warnings: Smut (18+). Mentions of Alcohol Consumption. Semi-Tipsy Sex. Thigh Riding. Unprotected Sex. Dirty Talk.  A/N: Breaking my writing drought with the horniest thing I've written in recent history. Like all good fics, this one started with a porn video. Hope you all enjoy.

I did my best proofreading, but I probably missed something. All mistakes are my own.

You follow Bradley into his apartment building, giggling quietly as you stumble along behind him. His hand is warm and solid, his fingers tangled in yours. A steady guide as he leads you up the stairs and down the dim hallway past the other quiet apartments.

Your blood sings in your veins, dancing with the high buzz of a night out with friends. The whole night is awash with a shimmering silver glow. You can still feel the pulse of the music and the warm ocean breeze on your skin, and taste the faint salt and lime flavor of the three margaritas you had earlier tonight. 

You’d started feeling frisky half-way through your second one. Something about the salt and tequila had you eyeing up your boyfriend and slowly sliding your hand up his thigh. You’d seen his smirk and raised eyebrow out of the corner of your eye, but he’d made no move to stop you. Instead he’d continued on with his conversation without breaking a sweat, as if his girlfriend wasn’t feeling him up underneath the booth.

And really, how could you keep your hands off of him when he looked so good? Dressed in a fitted pink silk shirt with the first two buttons undone to show a golden chain resting atop the smattering of dark hair that covered his chest. Jeans so fitted it was like he was on a personal mission to ruin your life. And his hair, curling slightly from the spray of the sea. It was all too much for your tipsy self to handle. 

Things had carried on from there. You’d danced a little too indecently in the center of the dancefloor; your back pressed against his broad chest with his hands gripping your waist, controlling the grind of your hips. You threw heavy lidded looks over your shoulder, and Bradley answered them with lewd ones of his own. You could feel his cock straining through his jeans, so obvious through the thin material of your dress. At one point his hand slid up and under the back of the flowy skirt, toying with you briefly.   

Maybe that was the breaking point. The moment that had you abandoning the dancefloor at Mach 10 speed, dragging Bradley behind you. You hadn’t even bothered to give a flimsy excuse to your friends, almost certain they could suss out the true reasoning behind your sudden exit. 

You probably would have fucked in the parking lot if it wasn’t so crowded. Instead, you had to settle for heavy petting on the way home. One of Bradley’s hands gripped the steering wheel, the other sat on your thigh, pushing your dress higher and higher until his fingers rubbed against the lace of your underwear. Your hands were plenty busy as well, rubbing the stiff erection his jeans failed to hide. 

Now you’re back home in record time, watching the relaxed sway of Bradley’s broad shoulders as he walks in front of you. He stops in front of his door, and shoves his free hand into his front pocket to grab the house keys. 

“Gonna need this for a minute,” Bradley smiles and kisses the back of your hand before gently placing it back at your side.

Impatience flitters through your body as you watch him slowly sift through the many keys on his chain. Seriously, how many keys does one man need? He has to be doing this on purpose. Prolonging the search just because he knows it’ll make you squirm. 

“Hurry up.” You wrap your arms around his waist and trail your lips across his shoulder.

Bradley chuckles. “Someone’s eager,” he teases. 

“I wanna fuck my boyfriend,” you mumble, fingers trailing up and under his shirt to run along the length of his waistband. “That a crime?” 

He finally selects the correct key and pushes it into the lock. “Nope,” he says, but still doesn’t unlock the door. 

“Well unless you’re going to fuck me right here in this hallway, I suggest you open the fucking door.” You punctuate the request with a squeeze over his clothed crotch. 

“Bossy,” Bradley says and finally unlocks the door. “It’s kinda hot. Wanna boss me around tonight, baby? Want me to let you call the shots?” 

There’s a deep timbre to his tone now. The words are rich with desire. You feel his entire body rumble with it. You feel your own yearning slide through your body. Slow and heated like molten metal. It pools low in your belly, sending an ache through your cunt. 

Your clit throbs and you bite your bottom lip. “Inside. Now.” 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He pushes the front door open and pockets his keys. There’s a smirk on his face when he turns to face you. “Where do you want–” 

His question is cut off by the surge of your lips. You mold your body against his, holding him close with your fingers tangled in his hair. Bradley backs into the apartment and kicks the front door shut. His hands slide down the curve of your back, and Bradley grabs your ass, keeping you pressed firm against him as he teeters further into the apartment. 

You tease his bottom lip with the tip of your tongue, lightly tracing the pink skin until his mouth parts in invitation. You moan quietly as the taste of him– faint traces of fruit from the cider he was drinking, a bit of mint from the Altoid he’d slipped earlier- greets you. His tongue slides against yours, hot and eager to taste you in kind. 

How many surfaces does Bradley press you against before deciding on the couch? There was the console by the front door, where he stopped only briefly so you both could kick off your shoes while he kissed and licked down your neck. The kitchen door frame so he could grind his hips against yours until you whined. Then he’d deposited you on the arm of the sofa, only to sink to his knees a moment later and bury his head between your thighs. Only then did he settle on the couch with you on top of him. 

You reach for his belt immediately, undoing the buckle and then popping the button on his jeans. In no time you’ve got a hand wrapped around his cock, and are stroking him slowly. 

“Not that I don’t enjoy where this is going,” Bradley groans, voice muffled by your tits as he presses open-mouthed kisses along the plunging neckline of your dress. “But what’s gotten into you?” 

“Three margaritas and my smokin’ hot boyfriend,” you say, twisting your wrist. 

He groans, and the pleasure-warped sound sends a jolt through your body. “Haven’t gotten in you yet.” Bradley chuckles, low and throaty.  

 “Yeah, well what are you waiting for?” You ask. 

“I’m waiting for you to tell me what to do.” His smoked-whiskey eyes meet yours. “You’re calling the shots, remember?” 

You sit back slightly. “Take my dress off.” 

A grin slowly spreads over his face. “There you go, honey. Now we’re in business.” 

He gathers the skirts of your dress in both hands and slowly slides it up your body. The heat of his calloused fingers sends goosebumps rippling across your skin. You lift your arms, and Bradley eases the dress over your head and tosses it onto the ground. 

He tilts his head to the side. “And?” 

“And your shirt. I don’t want to rip the buttons accidentally.”

Bradley kisses along your jaw as he unbuttons the shirt with steady fingers. “You like the shirt?” He asks, shrugging his shoulders out of the silk and dropping it on the floor near your clothes. 

“Love it. I want you to wear it again.” You wrap your arms around his shoulders and play with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

He grins. “You got it, babe. What’s next?”

“Next, you kiss me,” you whisper and slot your lips against his. 

Bradley’s mouth devours you, hot with a passion that makes you dizzy. His hand trails up your body to cup your breast. His fingers slip past the lace of your bra and flick at your nipple until it hardens. You grind your hips down onto his thigh, gasping against his lips when your clit catches on the rough material of his jeans. 

“Fuck, baby.” Bradley breaks the kiss to watch your desperate movements. “Look at you all worked up. All because of me and that fucking shirt?” He asks and fits his other hand against your hip to guide your stilted rhythm.

You nod, head tilting back at the delicious friction. Your toes curl as the fierce heat of pleasure overtakes your senses. You’re greedy with it, chasing after the spark that will set the smoldering flames ablaze. You get closer to it with every desperate rock of your hips. 

Bradley leans back against the cushion. “That’s it,” he murmurs encouragement. “Get yourself off on my thigh. You’re so fucking hot.” 

You whine, nails digging into his shoulder as an anchor. “Bradley.” 

“I’m right here, honey,” he grins up at you. “Keep going. Make a mess all over me.” 

Shivers wrack your body, and something akin to fire rushes over your skin. The beginnings of something heady and sweet swells within you. You rock your hips steadily, bottom lip trapped between your teeth, and eyebrows furrowed in concentration, intent on reaching it. 

Bradley’s mouth charts a wanton path over your skin. From mouthing at the pulse point of your jaw, to a chaotic, sloppy zig zag down your throat. His tongue darts out to taste the salt on your skin, the perfume dabbed in the hollows of your collarbone, until he reaches the barrier of your bra. 

It’s off in seconds, clumsily joining the growing pile of clothes gathering at the foot of the sofa. The tip of his tongue traces the swell of your breasts. His teeth scrape the sensitive skin, teasing goosebumps and blood to the surface. Then his warm lips chase the sting away, pressing soft kisses over the secret blossoming marks. 

You cry out when his mouth closes over your nipple, sucking and gently biting. You arch into his touch, a silent plea for more. Your orgasm so close, you can almost taste it, sticky and sweet, in the back of your throat. 

“‘M close,” you whisper, fingers gripping Bradley’s shoulders like a life raft. 

“That’s my girl. Come for me, baby,” Bradley mumbles against your spit-slicked nipple. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful. Wanna see you come all over my thigh. Give it to me.” 

Your head tilts back further, a silent moan on your tongue as the end rushes up to meet you. When you come, you come hard. Tiny peals of pleasure fall from your lips like a prayer. Gratitude and joy wrapped up in quiet moans and whimpers. 

Bradley groans, watching you with hungry eyes. He takes in your every move. Each flutter of your eyelids, every twitch of your lips. The slack of your jaw, perfect lips shaping the syllables of his name over and over again. The way your body shudders as hot pleasure takes over. 

You slump against his chest, boneless. Your chin rests on his shoulder as you catch your breath. 

“Goddamn,” he whistles. “I love watching you come.” The hand on your hip slides down to where your body is joined. His fingers swirl around in the slick mess pooled between you. “Look at the mess you’ve made.” He holds his fingers up to the light.

You blink, suddenly a little bashful about the growing wet patch on Bradley’s jeans. You avert your gaze, but Bradley clicks his tongue and shakes his head. 

“Look,” he says again, and this time you do. “That was all you. My perfect, gorgeous girl.” He brushes his thumb against your damp cunt and you groan. “So fucking wet. I can’t wait to be inside you.” His damp fingers wrap around his stiff cock. “What do you want, baby?” 

You gently wrap your fingers around the gold chain hanging around his neck, and pull him closer to kiss him briefly. “Take your pants off,” you whisper when your lips part. “And then, I’m going to fuck you.”

Bradley must set a world record for how quickly he manages to get those jeans off and onto the floor. It’s a wonder you managed not to fall off of the couch. 

You settle on top of him again and slide your panties to the side. You knock his hand out of the way and stroke his dick slowly. The groan Bradley lets out when you slowly sink down onto him borders on painful. His jaw flexes and he breathes deeply through his nose. 

“Jesus,” he breathes. “You’re so fucking tight. Feel fucking incredible.” He wraps his large arms around your body and holds you as close as he can. 

You whine at the stretch as you take him completely. You set a leisurely pace, allowing you and Bradley to just feel each other. Letting the heat build in your chest and well over. Your breathing slows, matching the steady up and down of Bradley’s shoulders. He’s got his head buried in your neck, and you can feel each of his dewey, warm exhales on your skin. 

“Just like that,” he whispers, his voice tight with the last remnants of his self-control. “Fuck me, baby. You do it so well.” 

That sets you off. You abandon the slow rock of your hips and fuck him desperately. Your hips meet his in a sloppy rhythm. It’s a race towards the finish, towards satisfaction. You lean back, balancing your hands on Bradley’s knees in search of that angle that’ll have you seeing stars.

“Right there, right there, right there,” Bradley groans through gritted teeth. “That's right. Take it, honey. Use my cock and make yourself come. Wanna feel you dripping all over me. Shit.” A long, drawn out sound as your cunt squeezes around him, making his hips buck up to yours. 

“Fuck, it’s so good,” you whine. Your nails dig shallow marks down his chest. 

“Yeah. I know, sweetheart. I know.” He presses his thumb against your clit and rubs in time with the sloppy grind of your hips. “Wanna come, don’t you?” 

“Yes.” You nod. “So bad.”

“Whatever you want. It’s all yours, baby,” he whispers. “Just take it.” His jaw clenches, and you can tell from the look in his eyes that he’s so close to the edge. And you’re millimeters away from it yourself. 

You squeeze your eyes shut and concentrate on the slick circles he thumbs against your clit. Warmth bursts low in your belly, growing ever brighter with each needy roll of your body. Between the thumb on your clit, and the gruff praises Bradley whispers, you’re wrecked. Shattered. Barely hanging on to your sanity. 

“Gonna come,” you whimper. 

“There’s my girl. That’s it, baby,” Bradley praises, making your stomach flip. “Let go for me.” 

Your thighs grow taut, legs trembling around his waist as you reach the blissful peak. You fall against Bradley’s chest, but he’s right there, sturdy and strong. His arms wrap around your waist, holding you close as his hips fuck up into you, shoving you deeper into the throes of passion. 

“Fuck, honey. Shit. Feel so good when you come.” Bradley’s right behind you, coming inside you with a strangled groan. His grip on your body so tight, you know you’ll have some bruises on your hips tomorrow. 

You melt into his arms, body lax against his as your heartbeat resumes a normal pace. 

Bradley nudges his nose against yours and kisses your lips sweetly. “You good?” He asks. 

“Better than good. On Cloud 9, actually.” You run your fingers through his hair and play with his damp curls. “Feel free to wear that shirt more often.” 

He laughs. “Oh, I will. Especially if it’ll lead to this.” Bradley smacks your ass. 

You give him a smirk. “I never stood a chance. You know what they say about giving a woman margaritas.” 

[googleitlol]

Finally at the Red Boy arc! I'm so excited to release the gremlin child muahahahaha!

I may have taken some inspiration from my own younger siblings (I have like 6 or smt? idk) when it came to writing Red Boy, so I'm excited to finally have him in the fic!

Dove Masterlist:

Feetus Yeeted

A chill sends goosebumps up your arms, the cool autumn air a frosty reminder of the weather to come. Dew shines on the sparse patches of grass on the mountain road you travel, the trees lining the path few and far between. Their branches are bare, some still clinging to the few rust-coloured leaves they have left, those that had already fallen drift through the breeze.

Your group marches up the path, somewhat groggy from your early-morning hike. Wujing guides Ao lie with Tripitaka on his back, Wukong floating by his side on his cloud while you and Bajie bring up the rear.

Pigsy readjusts the group’s luggage in his hold, huffing a bit as he does. “Master, you really should have considered staying in that Black Rooster Kingdom. Think of the luxuries we could have now if we stayed there.”

Sandy looks back at the pig demon with a laugh. “Brother, you know Master would never think of accepting such an offer.”

“Wujing is right, I intend to see our pilgrimage through to the end. Nothing could defer me from that.” Tripitaka hums, keeping his attention on the road ahead.

“Besides, that demon had the entire royal court wrapped around his finger.” You look over to your friend to add to the conversation. “I don’t think I could live there either, not after what they went through.”

You glance up to see what Monkey has to contribute, only to notice his eyes practically glued to the sky. It’s hard not to give him a bit of a funny look. Is he lost in thought? There doesn’t seem to be anything interesting going on up there, what else could he be doing?

Before you can ask what is on the simian’s mind, he gives a shout. “Master, get down! Now!” He leaps off his cloud and tackles Tripitaka off the horse. At his warning, you quickly take your bow into your hands while Bajie equips his rake. Sandy stands in front of the group, ready to defend his master while you search the skies for the incoming threat.

…But there is no threat. Not that you can see.

Your confusion seems to be shared as Pigsy frowns, his head whipping back and forth in anticipation for an incoming strike that never arrives. “…Are we under attack?”

Silence stretches over your group before Wukong looks back up at the sky, frowning a bit as he sees what you all do, nothing. “Huh, looks like we scared them off. It’s okay now.” He shrugs, getting back onto his feet and dusting himself off.

Tripitaka looks up at him from the ground, his expression emitting the same level of confusion you feel. “What did you see?”

“It was like some big ball of fire!” The monkey answers, keeping his eyes on the sky as he helps his master up. “It was coming right for us, it’s a good thing I saw it when I did.”

You share a look with the rest of your friends, disbelief evident on all of you. There was no ball of fire that you could see, and from the looks on his brother’s faces, Sun Wukong seems to be the only one to have seen it. You know he has the best vision in your group, but you’re unsure how all of you could have missed something that would be so eye-catching.

Tripitaka clears his throat, his smile a little worried. “Thank you, Pilgrim Sun… but if it’s alright, can I get back on the horse now?”

“Of course! I’ll just keep an eye out for any more fireballs.” He helps the monk back onto his horse before jumping back onto his cloud.

The monk looks at his disciple from the side of his eye, chuckling with a bit of unease. “Okay, then.”

With the matter… somewhat resolved, your group carries on with the morning, hiking up the mountain while Sun Wukong keeps an eye out for whatever he saw.

Just when your mind is ready to put aside the oddity of the moment, a voice echoes through the mountain. It’s faint, but enough for Tripitaka to look up in response. “Do you hear that?” He asks, looking around in worry. You do the same, a focused frown taking over your features as you strain to hear it.

Pigsy shifts the weight of the luggage around as he joins you in your attempts to find the source. “Is someone calling for help?”

“I don’t hear anything.” Wukong frowns, his cloud slowing to a stop.

You hear it again, the voice almost shrill. “It sounds like someone might be in trouble.” You take a step, but before you can transform to take flight, Wukong grabs your arm.

“Why don’t I go check it out?” He smiles, taking you a bit off guard. The Monkey King, offering to help a stranger without Tripitaka asking him to? “You all keep moving, I’ll catch up in a bit.”

He leaves no room for argument, his cloud soaring up high and quickly out of sight. Once he does, you share a bit of a confused look with the rest of your friends. “I’m not the only one who thinks he’s being weird, right? Is letting him go off right now a good idea?” You ask the group, Tripitaka, Pigsy, and Sandy all mumbling their responses.

“I am too tired to bother thinking about it too hard.”

“It scares me when he acts strange like that.”

“As long as he comes back without any blood on his clothes, we should be fine.”

You sigh, looking back at where you had last seen the monkey, doing your best to put aside your concerns before continuing on the road.

Despite the slower pace you take to wait for your friend, the walk goes by in a bit of a blur. You stay behind the others, hoping to catch a glimpse of the sage as you walk. When you eventually do, he jumps down next to you and dismounts his cloud. The piece of sky dissipates as you take in the lack of blood stains on his person, a good sign.

He dusts himself off while everyone else turns back to hear of his findings. “I didn’t see anything, I couldn’t even make out whatever distress calls you were hearing.” Wukong explains, resting his hands on his sides.

Tripitaka frowns before looking up. You do the same, realising you too hear nothing now. Strange, you didn’t go too far. The monk hums as he realises the same thing you do. “Hm, I don’t either.”

You look back at Wukong, your eyes searching for any tells on his face. You’ve seen him put on acts before, and this didn’t feel like the great sage you’ve spent the last couple of years with. Though, he hasn’t quite been himself for some time now.

Since your time being temporarily engaged to Jian Yu, he’s been… what’s the word, jumpy? It’s the best description you can think of, maybe aside from ‘on edge’. Especially when it comes to strangers on the road. The monkey demon always became dismissive around newcomers, doing his best to end encounters as quickly as possible.

Originally, his behaviour led you to believe he was acting like this because those strangers were demons in disguise, but that was almost never the case. You would ask him after parting ways with these strangers, but he would say they were regular travellers without a single malicious bone in their body! Even after confirming these strangers were harmless, it didn’t stop him from acting– maybe the best word to describe it is protective.

You’ve mentioned your thoughts on the matter to Wujing before, thinking he would have some insightful words to share on the matter, but he seemed almost oblivious to the change in your friend.

You cast the monkey man with a careful look once the group resumes the journey, Wukong now hanging back with you behind the others. His expression seems focused, but on what, you cannot say. His gaze is still fixed to the sky “Are you alright?”

The question is enough to get him to turn his eyes over to you, his focus masked with a smile. “Just peachy, why do you ask?”

“I don’t know, I’m just hoping you didn’t find whoever was screaming and kill them.” You hum, looking ahead to the rest of your friends while you talk.

Wukong scoffs playfully. “Please, do you think I would be able to clean all the blood off myself so quickly?”

“I did take note of the lack of stains.” You smile, peeking at him from the side of your vision.

He returns the look to you, but it doesn’t stay long. “Just, uh, stay close to Master, will you? I don’t have a good feeling about this mountain and it will be easier for me if you’re together.”

The request is enough to make you chuckle, what does he mean by that? Does he really think he has to worry over both you and Tripitaka? “You don’t have to worry about me, Monkey-Man. Or, did you forget about how we fought the Yellow-Robe Demon together? Or what about the battle with the Gold and Silver-Horned brothers?” You remind him, watching carefully for his response.

He looks away at the reminders, scratching the back of his head as he does. “I know, but I would still feel better knowing I could protect you both.”

You can’t help but frown a bit. Does he not think you are capable of protecting yourself? His job is to tend to Tripitaka, not fret over you. This is the exact kind of thing he’s been doing recently, you wish you could know why he’s been acting like this.

Still, if staying near the monk would help him to focus on his actual job, then you could deal with his somewhat-offensive request. That way, you’ll also be closer to stop any threats yourself. “Alright, if it helps you relax a bit, I will.” You smile, moving up to catch up with the rest of the group.

Part of you wants to question your friend on his recent behaviour, but you suppose it would be better to wait. With how anxious he seems at the moment, any attempt to prod at him for information will be fruitless. Maybe after you all rest for a meal, or if you find a good place to set up camp later in the day.

It can be a little difficult to understand Sun Wukong. He is incredibly cunning, you actually admire his wit and strategic mind. However, he has this nasty habit of explaining his process of thought after he’s already started whatever course of action he believes is best. He tends to be right, but leaves the rest of you in the dark with little to no context for his actions. Now, with how he’s been acting, it’s been even more difficult to understand what has been going on in his mind.

Before you can delve any deeper into thought, Wukong’s voice snaps you back into reality. “Master, get down!” He shouts, jumping into action yet again and pulling the monk off Ao Lie by his leg. Everyone quickly jumps into position again, and you stand over the two on the ground protectively with Bajie and Wujing at your side. The arrow on your bowstring draws back, ready to fire at any incoming enemy.

But there is no enemy, not that you can see. Wukong looks up with a frown, scanning the skies for whatever he might have seen. “Huh, I guess it was another false alarm.”

Tripitaka pushes his disciple off of him, casting the demon with a sour look. “Wukong, do you have to knock me off the horse every time you think you see something?! I’d rather not taste any dirt in my mouth.”

“Sorry, Master, it was that fireball again!” Wukong explains while standing back up, offering his master a hand to help him up as well.

Pigsy leans over to you and Wujing as Wukong helps the man up. “It sounds like someone is losing it.”

Sandy shakes his head. “Brother Sun has the best sight out of all of us. Maybe he just thought something was closer than it really is.” The three of you look over to the oldest disciple as he looks up to the sky, his eyes narrowed.

“…Maybe.” You hum, hoping for the sake of your group that it must be the case.

You’re not given much time to think about the monkey any more before you hear a voice calling again. “Help, please!”

“I know I heard somebody that time.” You didn’t imagine it. Not only that, the voice sounds even closer now. Whoever this is, they sound young. Really young. With the life of who might possibly be a child on the line, you transform with a leap into the air to find the voice’s owner with an aerial view.

“Dove, wait!” Wukong calls for you, but you don’t bother to wait, not when a child could be in need of saving.

You fly up high, waiting to hear the voice again before flying towards it. Following the cries, you catch sight of a child tied and suspended from a tree. It’s a young boy, wailing for help as he dangles in the air. His dark hair is dishevelled, some of it obscuring his face. He doesn’t look much older than seven or eight years old, and he’s bruised and beaten all over.

Who could have hurt this poor boy?! You act quickly, landing atop his shoulder and alerting him to your presence. Before he can panic, you begin to use your gift to soothe him. His cries falter, the boy’s head turning to look up at you as you calm him down.

“Huh… what?” He sniffles, confusion evident on his face. “What is this?”

Once he is calm enough, you fly up onto the branch he is suspended from and return to your normal form. “It is alright, child. I will get you down from here.”

The boy looks up at you with his mouth agape, his eyes as wide as his open mouth. All he manages to do is stare for a moment. “Wha– what did you do to me? Are you a goddess under the guise of a bird?” He asks, and you can’t stop the smile that spreads on your face from the question.

“I am nothing of the sort, but that does not mean I can’t help a stranger in need.” You answer. Taking the rope in hand, you pull the boy up– he’s surprisingly light– until he is sitting on the branch with you.

Just as you begin to untie the boy, Wukong’s voice calls out in a panic. “Dove, what are you doing?!” You look up to find your friends rushing to the tree you rest on, the others sharing a look of confusion while Sun Wukong narrows his gaze up at you and the boy.

“What does it look like I’m doing?!” You shout back as they approach, working at the knots keeping the rope together before they begin to slacken around the boy.

Once your friends are close enough and you free the boy of his restraints, you’re able to hand the child to Sandy and get him down to the ground. The river demon is careful to set him down gently. “What happened to you, child?” He asks as you climb down from the tree.

The boy rubs his arms, which are covered in red marks from the rope. “My home was plundered by thieves and bandits.” He explains, looking between you and the rest of your friends. “They killed my father and took my mother with them! They wanted to kill me as well, but my mother convinced them to spare me. They are the ones who left me tied to this tree to die from starvation and exposure.”

You frown as he tells his story, your heart aching for the boy. Losing your family so suddenly is something you can understand. He doesn’t even look much younger than you were when your village was attacked. This poor boy has gone through so much.

You look up at Tripitaka, the man looking down at the child with a look of sympathy. When he catches your eye, he nods, almost reading your mind. With his agreement, you crouch down to the boy. “Tell us, what is your name?”

“I am called Red Boy, Miss.” He replies, and you offer him a kind smile.

You pat his shoulder lightly. “Alright, Red Boy, I’m sure we can help you.”

The boy’s face brightens, but before he can respond, Sun Wukong hums aloud. “Are we sure we believe him?”

Your head swivels back to face him, the others all sharing your look of bewilderment as he continues. “I mean, look at him. He’s just been made an orphan and he can’t even bother to cry about it.”

His reasoning earns him wide-eyed looks of shock from everyone. “I already used my gift to calm him down… why would you say something so–” You can’t even find the words, unsure of how to respond. How can you respond to that?!

Wukong’s tail flicks in annoyance as you rise to stand again. “What are we meant to do with him? He can’t join us, and it isn’t as though we can burden the next person we find with some boy.”

“I still have my maternal family!” Red Boy quickly speaks up. “My aunties are just north of this mountain, and I have cousins there as well. If you could take me to them, I am sure they can reward you for your services. They have plenty of food, and can give you jewellery a-and whatever you want!”

Wukong steps forward, crouching down to face the boy directly now. “How do we know what your saying is the truth? Or that your little fable is even real?”

“Wukong!” You shoot the monkey demon a glare, and he glances back with an irritated look.

“What? It doesn’t make much sense to me.” He shrugs. “His mother begs for his life, so they just leave him to suffer a slower death? I would have at least put him out of his misery–”

Even Pigsy steps in at this point. “Brother, why are you interrogating the boy? If he wants to take us to be fed by his family, I say we let him.”

“It is also the right thing to do.” Tripitaka adds on, giving his two disciples an unimpressed look.

Pigsy looks away to clear his throat. “Yes, it’s the right thing to do.”

Wukong rises to his feet with a scoff, and you can’t stop the look you give him. What is his problem? Yes, he’s been more excitable lately, but this is something else entirely.

Tripitaka rides up to the child. “Red Boy, why don’t you ride with me? You must be exhausted after everything you’ve had to endure.”

The boy looks a bit surprised at the offer, but quickly looks away. “Um, I don’t know. I have never ridden on horseback before.”

The monk nods with a smile. “That is alright, would you like one of my disciples to carry you?”

At his offer, the boy’s eyes brighten a bit. Surprisingly, so does Wukong’s. “Master, I can–”

“Can the woman carry me?” Red Boy asks, cutting off the sage before he can finish. “She was the one who found me, I like her.” He looks over to you with a wide smile, either unaware of or ignoring the glare Wukong gives him when he asks.

You give him a bit of a surprised look yourself, not expecting the request. Tripitaka lets out a bit of an awkward laugh. “She isn’t one of my disciples.”

Wukong huffs, very clearly annoyed. “Just let me carry you, boy, I am much stronger than my brothers. Besides, I can carry you for much longer than Dove could.” He offers, and you feel your brow twitch at his last comment.

His little, ‘stay close to Tripitaka for me’ request was one thing, but that hit a nerve. “I can carry you, Red Boy, I don’t mind.” You smile at the child, his eyes lighting up when you do.

You make eye contact with Sun Wukong as you kneel down for the boy to get onto your back. “I’m much stronger than I look.” Pigsy does his best to conceal a snort of laughter, Sandy doing a bit better than him while Wukong flares his nostrils in irritation.

Ignoring his huffing and puffing, you rise to your feet. With the boy now on your back, you continue your hike through the mountain with your friends, Wukong lagging behind while his brothers walk up front with Tripitaka and you just behind them. As you all walk, you find yourself in conversation with the very curious Red Boy.

“If you’re not a goddess, then what are you?” He asks, laying his head down on your shoulder as you walk.

“I am a human, the same as you.”

“What did you do to me in the tree?”

“I only did what I could to calm you down, it’s a gift I’ve been given by my master.”

“How long have you had it?”

“Since I was a little girl. About your age, I think.”

The boy’s wide-eyed look he gives you from over your shoulder warms your heart a bit. “Incredible! You know, Miss, I have never felt such a tranquil feeling in my life!”

“You speak quite well for a young boy.” You note, amused by his excitement.

“I have been told I am very mature for my age.” He beams, making you laugh.

“You sound like it.” You return the look before hearing Bajie chuckle from in front of you.

He nudges Sandy’s arm, and the two look back at you. “It looks as though our feathered friend has found herself a fan.” He muses, and you notice him look back at Sun Wukong. You hear the older disciple grumble something under his breath, and although you can’t make out the words, Red Boy looks back at him and snickers.

Your brow furrows a bit. “What’s so funny, Red Boy?”

“Your monkey friend amuses me.” He admits, and you look over your shoulder at him with some confusion. Despite all the aggression from him, Red Boy doesn’t seem all that frightened of Sun Wukong.

His answer only seems to aggravate the Monkey King even more. “Oh, yeah? What do you find so amusing about me?”

“Your face is very comical.” Red Boy’s blunt answer earns a snort of laughter from you, the response more out of how unexpected his words are. He really does not hold back from saying what he thinks. “I have never seen such a terrifyingly angry expression, it’s almost hilarious.”

Wukong doesn’t seem to find his words as amusing as you do. “Trust me, kid, I can make it scarier.”

“Okay, let’s not fight with the child.” You roll your eyes. Part of you wants to join in on teasing your friend to get a laugh out of the kid, but it’s clear Monkey wouldn’t take it well at the moment. This entire detour with the boy has him in a bad mood.

He grunts at your dismissal, his tail flicking once more. Red Boy watches him for a moment, eyes studying the monkey demon before his eyebrows shoot up in some sort of realisation. “Ohh, I understand. You are upset because you just want the woman to yourself.”

You trip over your own feet at his words, barely catching yourself to stop the both of you from crashing to the ground. Wujing hunches over into a coughing fit when he hears the boy, Pigsy choking back laughter while Tripitaka looks back at him in bewilderment, slack-jawed.

Despite the violent effect of his words on your friends and the violent shade of red on your face, he continues, now whispering into your ear. “My mother always told me that men want only one thing, especially demon men like him.” He looks back at Sun Wukong, who you can’t even turn to for the moment from the embarrassment alone.

Despite the shock of his words, you do your best to regain your composure. “I think you misunderstand, Red Boy.”

He puts his head back on your shoulder, with a face so innocent you can hardly believe such accusations are coming out of it. “You should be careful, Miss. You seem like such a caring person, it has to be a miracle that a demon like him hasn’t given into his evil urges–”

The boy doesn’t get a chance to continue before he’s ripped away from your back. You stumble onto the ground from the action, and before you have the chance to find your bearings, Sun Wukong lifts Red Boy into the air and throws him down the mountain.

“Good riddance.” Wukong snarls, the silence that follows his words are deafening. You stare up at him in shock, at a complete loss for words as he watches the boy fall, the wind howling after him.

When you finally let the moment sink in, you jump back to your feet, wind howling in your ears. “Wukong! What the hell have you done?!”

“Me?!” He looks back at you, clearly offended. “What were you all doing?! That child was a demon in disguise!”

“What?” You frown, the Monkey King grumbling with impatience.

“I would have taken care of him more gracefully, but that brat couldn’t help running his disgusting little mouth.” He rests his hands on his sides, his actions from today now making sense.

A few autumn leaves rush by in the wind as you let out a tired sigh and Sandy steps in. “Why didn’t you say anything before?!”

He scoffs. “Would you have believed me?”

“Yes!” His eyes widen a bit at your exasperated response. “We’ve come far enough on this journey that I trust your judgement, Wukong! If you say someone is a demon, we'll believe you, but you have to be clear and actually say something. Throwing what we think is a little boy off a mountain might give Tripitaka and I heart failure before we reach the scriptures!”

You step back to take a breath, Wukong quiet in response to your lecturing. So many things just happened, you need a minute to recollect your thoughts. You barely even processed what Red Boy was saying before he was ripped from your back. It was all so embarrassing, you can still feel the warmth in your cheeks. Demon or not, that was– gah!

“Uh, guys?” Pigsy pulls you from your thoughts, a frown set in his features. “Is it just me, or is it getting darker?”

The group joins him in observing the sky, the wind picking up even more. You have to shield your face from the gale that pushes past you, your heart sinking as you spot dark clouds circling from above. The sun disappears, shrouding everything in darkness just as more leaves start to pick up off the ground, obscuring your vision. You look to and fro wildly for sight of your friends as the winds grow more violent. It’s a struggle to keep your footing as the invisible force pushes you back.

The sound of Tripitaka’s screams make your heart race. Turning to the source of his cries, you are able to make out a vague silhouette of Ao Lie. Tripitaka is no longer on the horse, his hands barely hanging onto the reins as his body is pulled upwards to the dark clouds. “Tripitaka!”

“Master!” You hear Wukong somewhere to your right before he rushes past you. He seems to be the only one able to push through the wind, Sandy and Pigsy struggling to keep their footing as much as you are. You try your best to move towards the flying monk, fighting the wind at each step.

You’re hardly able to make any progress before ducking your head down to shield your face from loose pebbles and twigs, all flying through the wind haphazardly. Just as you go to take another step, you feel the wind push back against you rougher than before, shoving you off balance enough to make you tumble back.

A shout escapes from you as you fall, but you never make contact with the ground. Instead, you feel yourself lifting higher, twisting and turning with no control over where you go.

“Dove!” Wukong’s voice is faint, accompanied by the thunder of the wind carrying you into the air. You can just make out a figure rushing towards you, Sun Wukong’s hand outstretched. Your hand reaches out for his, so close you can almost touch. But he’s too far.

His fingers just brush your own before you’re thrusted up into the sky. Wukong’s silhouette grows smaller before vanishing completely, obscured by the hordes of debris flying amidst your now darkened world. You shield your face again to protect it before quickly peeking out for any sign of something stable to hold onto. With how much the wind is tossing you about, it’s difficult to maintain any sense of where the ground is.

In the midst of your tumbling through the air, you hear Tripitaka calling out for you and the others. You call out for him, reaching out blindly in the hopes that you are close enough to hold onto each other. Luckily enough, you find a hand to hold, it grabs you firmly the second you make contact. The wave of confidence is short-lived, though, when you realise the hand is too small to be Tripitaka.

It’s too late, you feel yourself being pulled sharply in one direction. In a flash, your surroundings morph, the wind suddenly dropping as you feel yourself roll onto the ground of a hard stone floor. The darkness and debris clouding your vision is replaced with the dim light of torches, the air in whatever cave you now appear to be in is dry and hot.

With a grunt, Tripitaka falls a little ways next to you, landing on his side. “Tripitaka!” You rush over to make sure he’s okay, looking for any injuries as he pushes himself to sit up. He looks at you, confused, and before either of you can say another word, you’re alerted to the presence of another by the sound of their cackling.

“He tried to throw me!” You act quickly, pulling out your dagger and putting a protective arm around the monk as you turn to face your unwanted company. Before you, the boy from before stands with his arms crossed, different than before. His dark hair is now a fiery red that reaches down his back, thick and wild. Bullish horns poke through the top of his head. His ears also now resemble that of a bull, with a thin tail whipping behind him to match. His tattered clothes are now replaced with a dark red kilt, a few scorch marks darkening the material in different spots.

The demon child barks out a laugh. “I knew that ape had to be brash, but trying to kill me before I even did anything?!” His grin stretches from ear to ear and you frown a bit as you look at the boy who stands several metres away from you and Tripitaka.

Yes, this is a demon… but he’s just some kid. What are you meant to do in this situation, fight a child? Put him on a time-out? You glance back at Tripitaka, the monk looking just as confused as you are. Child or not, you can’t imagine the boy has taken the two of you here without malicious intent. “I don’t think you have much room to talk, kid. Haven’t you heard it’s rude to play tricks on people?”

Red Boy snickers. “Not when it comes to food, Miss. Father says anything goes for food. He’ll love that I caught the Golden Cicada!” He beams, eyes practically sparkling as he stares down your friend.

The two of you rise to your feet with your dagger still in hand, Tripitaka frowning a bit at the boy while you scan the area for an exit. “You… you want to eat us?” 

Whatever cave you seem to be in, you notice natural light pouring in from an opening just behind the demon boy. “You sound surprised.” He tilts his head a bit to the side. “I’ve had my underlings tell me all about you, Tang Monk. Word travels fast, and I have heard all about your travels on your pursuit to the Thunderclap Monastery. It’s too bad you’ll never make it.” He shrugs, uncaring for your situation.

“That’s enough.” You keep a hand over Tripitaka’s shoulder as you stare down the child. “If you’ve heard of our travels, you know we’ve taken care of plenty of other demons like you.”

The boy flashes a knowing smile. “Oh, I’m not like the demons you’ve already met.” He giggles, his laughter a bizarre mix of sinister and extremely gleeful. “Besides, you don’t have to worry, Miss. I won’t eat you if you don’t want me to.”

Huh. “What.”

“I just want you to do what you did before! I’ve never felt anything like it!” He exclaims, his eyes almost sparkling with a childish glee that confused your already-overworking head. The way he speaks seems so innocent, but his words are packed with evil intent.

Frowning a bit at the boy, you take a step closer and gesture to Tripitaka from behind your back to start moving towards what you assume is the cave entrance. “…Really?”

“Yes!” He smiles widely, and you take another look around the cave as Tripitaka starts to move.

You lower your dagger a bit and take another step towards the boy. “Where is your father?”

Red Boy’s smile drops a bit, his excitement reining in. “I will have my men send him an invitation once I’ve taken care of the monk’s disciples.”

“And your mother?” You press, and the boy looks away.

“She has business to attend to this time of year, so father and I will be dining on our own.” He explains, his posture is a bit straighter now as he smiles at you politely. “I would extend an invitation to you as well, but I assume you wouldn’t want any of the Tang Monk’s meat. You are vegetarian, aren’t you?”

…Also Tripitaka is your friend. Eating your friend is multiple layers of wrong. You glance over at the monk, now closer to the entrance and behind Red Boy’s line of sight. You intend to keep it that way, and crouch down to get onto the same eye-level as the demon child. “Are you saying you live on your own?”

The question seems to offend him, making the boy scoff. “Yes, and? I am plenty old enough to take care of myself! I’m the king of this mountain! I’ve been in command of my army since I took my first steps.” 

“…I find that hard to believe.” You frown just before the sounds of Tripitaka screaming catch both your ears.

Red Boy quickly whips around to see the monk being dragged back into the cave by two demon guards, and you curse to yourself under your breath. The demon child frowns. “Where do you think you’re–”

Before he can finish, you drape the boy up into your arms, pressing the dagger to his throat. “Release the monk!” You shout to the demon guards, both of them freezing at your sudden action while you try not to think of how strange it feels to be threatening a little kid.

“Let go of me!” Red Boy shouts, squirming in an attempt to get out of your hold, his hands trying to pull at your arm.

You keep your grip on the boy firm. “I will put you down once your underlings let go of the Tang Monk.” You try to reassure him, glaring at the two demons. “Do it!”

The guards remain still, their eyes trained onto their child boss. You see Tripitaka’s face drop, and before you can react to the growing warmth emitting from Red Boy’s hand, scarlet flames shoot from his mouth. “I said, let go!” The fire shoots at your arm holding up the boy, making you shout out in pain before dropping him. Your dagger falls to the ground as you clutch your arm close to your person. The boy scrambles back over to his men, casting you with a look of betrayal. 

“Ugh, that was rude!” He sneers before looking up at his men. “Lock them both up! We have to get ready for when the others arrive.” He orders them, the men quickly jumping into action. One grabs you by your uninjured arm, pulling you over before him and his fellow guard drag you further into the cave.

You wince, looking down at the burn on your arm. A little demon kid that breathes fire, huh? That is a first. You’re gonna have to be smart to get out of this one.

[arcane-vagabond]

Singing in the Sanctuary: Chapter One

Singing in the Sanctuary: Chapter One

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw is a simple man. Well, as simple as one can be while living a life of crime. The notorious outlaw of the western territories has never been interested in settling down and having a family, but will that all change when he meets a shy, new teacher who just moved into town?

Warnings: Swearing, Bradley Bradshaw being a flirt, suggestive language. I think that’s all?

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Here's Chapter One!! I hope you all enjoy. As always, validation of any form (reblogs, comments, and likes) are always appreciated. And if you want to swing by and leave me a message or ask, you are always free to do so! I love talking about my works. 18+ ONLY!! Find me on AO3 under arcane_vagabond where I will be posting these fics as well!

Series Masterlist || DGU Masterlist

Maverick had taken you home and let his wife, Penny, help you get settled in to your temporary home. Penny was a lovely woman, smile lines clear on her face. While she was easily one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen in your entire life, her easy confidence is what ultimately drew you to the older woman.

“It’s lovely to meet you,” you had gushed as Maverick led you into their home. It was a simple, white house close to the edge of town, and the interior gave a particularly cozy atmosphere that had you relaxing almost instantly.

“You as well, darlin’,” she smiled, green eyes twinkling. You went to shake her hand, but she pulled you into a tight hug instead. “No need to be so formal, sweetheart. You’ll be staying here until we can find something else for you, after all.”

“Of course,” you sighed. Penny pulled away and rested her hands on your shoulders. Peering over at her husband, the corners of her mouth dipped down in disapproval.

“Speaking of which, Pete, when are you going to get that school house built?” she griped. Maverick rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and offered her a small smile.

“We’ll start it here soon, I reckon,” he murmured, causing Penny’s frown to turn into a full blown scowl.

“You’ve been saying that for months now!”

“And when I find the workers, we’ll get right on it,” he replied pointedly. “Besides, we just now got ourselves someone to teach all the little hellions.”

Penny rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath that you didn’t quite catch. She turned her attention back to you and smiled, guiding you towards the stairs. “Come on, darlin’. Let’s go get you situated. Mav’ll bring your things up in a little bit.”

You followed her dutifully up the stairs and down the hall until she stopped in front of the the last door on the left.

“This is you, sweetheart,” she said, opening the door. It was a simple room. A four poster bed was placed against the far wall and a wardrobe on the wall to your right beside the window. A small vanity sat at your left, and as you took it all in, you felt the excitement of the day wash over you.

“I love it,” you said quietly, grinning from ear to ear. Penny’s smile matched your own.

“I’m glad. I know it’s not much, but you’re free to do with it what you like until we get you your own place. It even has a view of the mountains.”

At her words, you moved over to the window, drawing back the curtains and leaning in to look out. There were no words to describe it. You had been a little worried to move out to the middle of the desert, knowing how much you’d miss your sprawling green landscapes. The mere thought had you feeling a mixture of guilt and homesickness. Your parents were probably beside themselves at that very moment, despite the note you had left them explaining where you were going. You could practically hear the wails of your mother from hundreds of miles away. But the view of the mountains before you almost made up for those awful feelings within you. It was like a painting you had seen once at the market. The blue sky popped against the muted oranges and brown that lay underneath, and the white clouds that floated by looked almost unreal.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed quietly, and Penny chuckled.

“It is, isn’t it?” she began, coming over to stand next to you. “It’s even more beautiful at night when you can see all the stars in the sky.”

“I can imagine,” you said, already smiling at the thought. Penny straightened up and clapped her hands together.

“Right! Well, how about you and I go downstairs and get supper started? The butcher sold me a prime cut of beef today, and there’s a recipe I’ve been dying to try.”

You followed her out the door, the smile still plastered on your face. “I’d love to.”

Your dinner with Maverick and Penny had been full of conversation and laughter. Maverick told you about how he had come to found the town with his best friend, Tom “Iceman” Kazansky, who also happened to be the towns sitting sheriff.

“He’s a stubborn son of a gun,” Maverick had said with a hint of a smile, “but there’s no one I trust more.”

Penny had cocked an eyebrow at him at that, and Maverick chuckled, placing his hand on top of hers where it sat at the table. “No one else but you, of course darlin’.”

“Do you know when Bradley and the others are getting back into town?” she had asked him some time later. Maverick sighed, sitting back in his chair with a wistful look on his face.

“I don’t. You know how those boys are. Here one minute, gone the next. If I’ve told them once, I’ve told them a thousand times, ‘keep me posted so I know you’re still alive.’ Do they listen to me? No, I’m just an overly cautious, old man.”

“You’re not that old,” Penny smiled, causing the corners of Maverick’s mouth to twitch into a small, returning one. “You’ve still got a couple of years, I’d say.”

“How kind of you to say,” Maverick laughed. He stood up from the table, stretching. “That was a mighty fine meal you two girls cooked up. But, I have some things I need to tend to before the night is over. Y/n, you’ll be joining us at church in the morning, won’t you?”

“Oh, I wasn’t sure I was allowed to,” you said, setting your fork down sheepishly. Penny smiled at you warmly.

“Of course you are! You don’t need an invitation to attend service. The reverand will be happy to meet you, and I’m sure it’ll be a good opportunity to see where you’ll be teaching the young ones. When did you want to start? We can announce it while everyone is gathered tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you said, thinking. Much like every other decision you had made recently, you decided to dive head first into the opportunity. “I can begin on Monday. Let’s say, eight o’clock? I can start getting things ready tomorrow afternoon after the service, provided that’s alright with the reverend.”

“I don’t see why that would be a problem,” said Maverick. “I’ll let him know as soon as we get there tomorrow morning. Have a pleasent evening, ladies. Penny, I’ll probably be late, so don’t wait up.”

“That man never stays still for long,” Penny sighed, smiling fondly after her husband. Standing, she stacked the dishes in her hands and made her way to the kitchen. “You go on ahead to bed, sweetheart. I’ll get the dishes tonight.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, following after her, and she waved you off.

“‘Course! You’ve had a long day, and you’ve still got some unpacking to do. You can help me after breakfast in the morning.”

“Alright,” you relented, turning to head upstairs. “Goodnight, Penny.”

“Goodnight, darlin’.”

The following morning came quickly, and you found yourself excitedly walking into the sanctuary of the church in your Sunday best. A few people milled about you as they took their seats in the pews up and down the aisle. Some looked at you curiously, but you paid them no mind as you followed Maverick and Penny to the front of the church. You all sat down in the front pew and waited for the service to start.

“Did you hear?” said a girl to your left. “The Dagger Gang is back in town!”

“Really?” squealed her friend, earning looks from some of the older townfolk. “When did they arrive?”

“Just last night! Oh, that Jake is so handsome, isn’t he?” the first girl giggled. You heard someone snort, and turned to see a pretty girl a few rows back from you roll her eyes. She sat next to a handsome man who looked like he might be her brother and a pretty girl with dark hair and deep, brown eyes who smiled at him affectionately. The two girls continued, not paying any mind to the one who snorted.

“He is, but that Bradley isn’t so bad on the eyes either! It’s been horrible going this long without seeing all those handsome men walking around town,” said the second girl.

Her friend nodded enthusiastically. “You’re right. A month is simply too long.”

Before her friend could reply, the reverend made his way to the front to begin the service. The chatter died down as the reverend began to speak. It was a lovely service, and before you knew it, the hour had passed. The reverand gestured to Maverick, who stood up and turned to face the rest of the congregation.

“Mornin’, folks,” he said, earning a cacophony of “good mornings” from those around him. “You all know me, and you also know that we’ve been doin’ our best to get a school established here in Maverick. Well, I’m happy to announce that as of yesterday, our humble, little town finally has a new teacher!”

He gestured to you, and you stood up shyly, waving at the people surrounding you. Several people clapped and you could have sworn you heard a few people say “finally!” Maverick continued.

“Unfortunately, we still don’t have a schoolhouse built for our little critters, so for the foreseeable future, I’ll be looking for volunteers to help me build not only a schoolhouse, but a home for our wonderful new addition.”

“Thank you, Pete,” said the reverend as Maverick sat back down. “If anyone should have any questions for our new teacher, I believe she’ll be taking some time to get our sanctuary ready for school tomorrow morning. Eight o’clock, was it?”

“Yes,” you chirped. The reverend smiled.

“Eight o’clock tomorrow morning is when school will start. I hope to see many young, shining faces here on time ready to learn! That’s all I have for today. May God bless you all this fine Sunday.”

You sat back as the congregation began to file out of the sanctuary. Once everyone had left, you got up and walked up to the front. Behind the pulpit, you found the slate tablets that Penny had told you about earlier that morning. You grabbed a few of them and began to place them in the first few rows of the pews. You began to hum a little melody as you worked, allowing the sound to roll through you. Your mother had always been proud of your ability to sing.

“Like an angel here on earth,” she had said once. You had shied away from the compliment, but it never deterred you from enjoying the hobby.

“Amazing grace, how sweet the sound,” you sang as you walked back up towards the pulpit to grab more slates. “That saved a wretch like me.”

Turning, you moved to the other side of the aisle, repeating the task from before.

“I once was lost, but now am found,” you continued, turning back to grab the last few remaining tablets. Gathering them up in your arms, you turned. “Was blind, but now I see.”

Your finished the last note, looking up towards the door and nearly dropping the slates in your arms as you jumped. Standing in the doorway was a devistatingly handsome man. His skin was golden like it had been kissed by the sun itself, and chestnut brown hair curled at his forehead. His mustache sat above his lips that were curled into a small smile as he watched you with deep, brown eyes.

“Hey, little songbird. Don’t stop on my account,” he drawled, leaning against the doorframe. You didn’t say anything, to nervous to speak. This only seemed to amuse him, and he pushed off from the doorframe and started walking over towards you.

“That’s a pretty voice you got there,” he continued, causing you to tighten your hold on the tablets. “Maybe I can get a private show here soon.”

“C-c-can I help you?” you asked, cursing yourself for stuttering. The man hummed, coming to a stop in front of you. He was so tall, that you had to crane your head back in order to meet his gaze. He looked at you thoughtfully, biting his bottom lip before leaning down so close that his breath fanned over your face.

“That depends,” he smirked. “What are you offering?”

“I don’t,” you started, but your sentence was cut off by a squeak as the man cornered you against the wall by the pulpit.

“You gonna let me have a taste, darlin’?” He asked huskily, sliding his hand down to grip your skirt.

“We’re in a church!” You gasped, your brain struggling to catch up with what was happening. You put a hand on his chest, trying to use the tablets to push him back. He chuckled, taking them out of your hand and tossing them to the floor.

“I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Your pulse skyrocketed and your breath caught in your throat as he leaned in closer, close enough for you to see the green in his eyes.

“Oh, Rooster,” called a voice in a sing-song tone. You glanced over to see another tall, handsome man. This one, however, was blond and just a breath shorter than the one currently caging you in.

“‘M busy,” the man—Rooster—grumbled, softly stroking your cheek. You felt the skin in where he touched you blaze, and you tried to suppress the shudder that ran up your spine. Rooster’s smirk returned as he pressed in closer to you.

“Rooster?”

Rooster continued to ignore the man, cupping your jaw. He leaned in so that his lips hovered over yours, and you let out an involuntary whimper, feeling your resolve weaken.

“Don’t worry,” he cooed softly. “I’ve got you.”

“Bradley.”

“What, Hangman?” Snapped Rooster, Bradley, whirling around to glare at the man, thunder in his eyes. The man, Hangman, didn’t seem phased by the sudden hostility of his friend. In fact, he looked bored as he inspected his fingernails, propped up against the door frame where Bradley had just been minutes before.

“Well, Roo, I hate to interrupt your,” Hangman paused, casting you a quick glance before smirking, “fun, but we do have some things we need to take care of.”

Bradley didn’t say anything, still looking at Hangman with a thunderous look. Hangman cocked an eyebrow as if to challenge Bradley to argue.

“Have you even found Maverick?” Hangman asked exasperatedly.

“Maverick?” You questioned, your sense slowly coming back to you now that Bradley wasn’t quite so close. “He left already.”

Both men turned to look at you.

“Do you know where we can find him?” Asked Hangman, standing up straight now, hand on his hip.

“I believe he and Penny went home,” you said carefully, unsure of what these men wanted with your host.

“Well, thank you kindly, darlin’,” Hangman said, throwing you a wink before sauntering out the door. A moment passed and Bradley turned back to look at you, but your gaze was focused on your hands. Bradley’s hand reached out to cup your cheek again, pulling your face up to look at him. An unreadable expression was on his face as he studied you. His thumb gently stroked your bottom lip, and you once again found yourself having difficulty breathing and focusing on a single thought. His hand was so warm.

Bradley seemed to make up his mind about whatever it was he was thinking about, and he pulled away with another smirk. He turned and walked down the aisle of the church and out the door without another word to you. You shook your head in an attempt to clear it.

You quickly placed the rest of the tablets in the pews and waved goodbye to the reverend who had wandered back in from outside. You dragged your feet a little more than what was necessary as you made your way back to the house. You spotted several horses tied up by the gate outside, and you took a steadying breath to brace yourself for what, or who, was on the other side of the door. You stopped just outside and debated on whether or not it was too late to run off to another town. Deciding against it, you swung the door open before you lost your nerve. A group of six men were sprawled across varying pieces of furniture in the parlor, two of whom were now familiar to you. Both looked at you in surprise, but Bradley’s shock quickly turned into a lazy smirk.

“Well, hi Birdie,” he drawled, earning looks from both Maverick and Penny. “What’re you doing here?”

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

The Periphery

Pairing: Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x Reader

Rating: M

Notes: This accidental behemoth is based on this post and part of the lil fic triptych with The Worst Best Man (Jake Hangman Seresin x Reader) @tropes-and-tales Team Prime (Bob Floyd x Reader)

No physical descriptions, no use of y/n. Also not beta-read. Because it never is.

Length: 11.1K

Warnings: Slowburn (i know, shocker); angst (I know, shocker); fluff; happy ending!!

Summary: You’d met Bradley a few times before the happy couple had announced their nuptials, and you’d always gotten a pretty good vibe from him. He was sweet, he was easy to talk to—and it helped that he was easy on the eyes. In fact, as soon as you’d been told that Bradley Bradshaw was going to be the Best Man, you were well on your way to having a crush on the guy. 

“Alright, what have we got, what have we gooooot…” Bradley asked, turning the steering wheel and guiding the Bronco onto the avenue. 

“Let’s see,” You looked down your checklist. “Candy and labels for the favor bags?” 

“Check.” 

“Final payment for the florist.” 

“Check.” 

“Final payment for the cake.” 

“Check.” 

“Drop off the…Card-thingies for the seating placement at the venue.” 

“Place cards?” Bradley chuckled. 

“You knew what I meant. Only thing left is putting the favor bags together and we are set.” 

“Hell yeah. Up top.” 

You glanced over, smile widening when you spotted Bradley holding his hand up. You gave him a high five, chuckling as he crowed, “Boom! Dream team right here.” 

You leaned back in your seat, shifting a little bit. Bradley was certainly the easiest person you’d had to work with over the course of this wedding—bride and groom included. You’d met him a few times before the happy couple had announced their nuptials, and you’d always gotten a pretty good vibe from him. He was sweet, he was easy to talk to—and it helped that he was easy on the eyes. In fact, as soon as you’d been told that Bradley Bradshaw was going to be the Best Man, you were well on your way to having a crush on the guy. 

“Oh—Shit,” Bradley muttered. 

“What is it?” You frowned. 

“No, nothing. I need to grab my tux,” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Just remembered.” 

“Oh,” You frowned, glancing back as he drove past the shop. “Do you wanna go now?” 

“Uh…You sure?” He asked, raising his brows. 

“Yeah! The rest of my day’s clear, I don’t mind.” 

“You are a lifesaver,” Bradley swore, pulling his car into a parking spot. You waved him off, setting the checklist on the backseat of the car. 

“Hang on,” He warned. You frowned, shaking your head, then smiled as he rounded the front of the car, opening the door for you. 

“You’re such a gentleman, Bradshaw,” You teased. 

“I try.” 

He held the door open for you at the shop, too, and you tried not to get too flustered about it. But Bradley really was a gentleman. He’d shown you that repeatedly over the course of wedding prep, checking in periodically to see if you needed help with anything, or just to chat. 

He gave his name at the desk, nodding and offering his thanks as the attendant left to get his suit. 

“You get your dress yet?” He asked. 

“Yep. Picked it up earlier in the week.” 

“You are on it. I don’t know how you do it.”

You shrugged, trying to ignore the bubble of flattery rising in your gut. “This isn’t my first wedding.” 

“How many times have you been a Maid of Honor?” 

“This is the…fourth time?” 

“Holy hell.” 

“I kinda like it,” You chuckled. “It was stressful the first time but the fourth time around, it’s sort of old hat, you know.” 

“Bradshaw?” The attendant called out, waving the two of you deeper into the shop. “If you’ll follow me? We just want to make sure the alterations are all set before we send it out with you.” 

You trailed after him, tucking your hands into your pockets, and grinning as he gave you a little wink before ducking into the changing room. You sat down in one of the chairs nearby, scrolling through your phone and shooting a text to Katie, the bride. You frowned as your phone began to ring, and you tapped on Katie’s name, taking the call and raising it to your ear. 

“Hey, lady. How are you doing?” You asked.

“I’m okay. Are you guys done, have you gotten everything?” 

You tried not to groan at the panicked edge in her voice.

“We have the stuff for the favor bags, we dropped the checks off.” 

“Are you putting the bags together today?” 

“Not today, but they will be done,” You leaned into the word to stave off her argument, “Before the end of the week, and dropped off to the venue on Friday.” 

“Promise?”

“You have my word. Take a deep breath.” 

“That Katie?” Bradley called out from behind the curtain. 

“Yeah!” 

“Tell her we’ll get it done!” 

“I did!” You laughed before adding, “Bradley says we’ll get it done, too. ‘Kay?” 

“Fine,” She sighed before belatedly tacking on, “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you tomorrow. Call me if you need anything.” 

“I will. Thanks, hon.” 

“Anytime. Bye.” You lowered your phone, looking down as you heard the curtain being pushed aside. You glanced up, doing a double-take at the sight of him. Your stomach flooded with butterflies at the sight. You bit your lip, gaze sweeping him from head to toe. You’d been to fittings with a few groomsmen in your day, but Bradley looked damn good. The suit fit him like a glove. You stood from where you’d settled down, tucking your phone away and stepping closer, folding your arms across your chest to fight off the urge to reach out and touch. Luckily for you, he hadn’t caught sight of your blatant interest as you hovered in his periphery. He was too busy double-checking his buttons.

“…It fits well,” You offered. 

“Yeah?” He asked, glancing back at you. You couldn’t help the way your smile widened as you nodded, allowing yourself to move a couple of steps closer. 

“Yeah. Do you like it?” 

“Wearing a suit feels a little weird,” He chuckled, turning to look at himself in the mirror. “But I guess it’s good practice.” 

“Good practice?” You repeated, brow furrowing. “What do you mean?” 

“I’m getting married next year. Actually, all of this has been good practice. You’ve been a lot more helpful than you know.”

Your smile stayed frozen in place as your neck went hot, your blood roaring in your ears. It made sense. It made so much sense, and it had no right to hurt, to twist your insides up. You nodded, and dropped your gaze to his left hand, like you could spot where the ring would sit; you wondered what kind, what metal. Engraved? Plain? Gold? Silver? Bradley struck you as the type to have a plain outer band, and an engraving inside—some secret message, or initials, or the date that they met—the date of their wedding anniversary so that he’d never forget, but Bradley wasn’t the type to forget— 

“You’re sure it looks alright?” 

His question jolted you, made your smile twitch a touch wider out of panic, your eyes bright, attentive, and flickering to his face. Even with your newfound knowledge, your upset, your crushing disappointment—you couldn’t help the softening of your expression at his blatant nerves.

“Yes,” You nodded. “I’m sure.” 

–  

It was ridiculous, right? 

It was ridiculous that it formed a knot in your chest. It was ridiculous that you were so rocked by the revelation that you couldn’t sleep. You needed to do something to get your mind off of what you’d learned; off of the sight of Bradley in that tux, bright and hopeful. 

He’d told you all about his fiancé on the drive back to your place. That was sort of your fault. You had asked—but it had seemed rude not to, once you knew that there was someone in the picture. Bradley had told you all about Liz: how they met (she was a friend of his WSO’s), how long they’d been together (six months), how the proposal had gone (she’d been the one to plan it—from the ring, to where he proposed, to the photographer who photographed the occasion, to the party of friends and family that they went to afterward), how the wedding planning was going. 

“It’s been a bit of whirlwind, planning-wise…Actually, the whole relationship has been,” He’d shrugged. “And our schedules are nuts. We kinda keep moving the goalposts.” 

“On what?” 

“…Well, when it’s gonna be, for one.” 

His laughing admission had planted a little seed of hope in the nest of dismayed vipers making a home in your belly, but you wouldn’t allow it to take root. It was to be expected. Like he said, their schedules were nuts. But still…

When it’s gonna be.

It rose to the top of mind now and again as you worked on the favors through the night, putting custom labels on the bottles of wine, making sure each bag had a corkscrew, and tying a strip of white ribbon around the neck of the bottle. 

When it’s gonna be. 

Couldn’t they just elope, if they were so worried about that? Have a proper wedding later, when things were more settled, if it was causing them so much stress? You hadn’t brought that up, of course. It wasn’t any of your business. 

When it’s gonna be. 

You set the final bottle in the final bag, then dropped the corkscrew inside. You’d already put on the label, and the ribbon. You sighed heavily, looking around your living room. It was crowded with nearly two hundred completed favor bags. How the hell were you going to get them down to your car? Could you even fit all of these in your car? You groaned, leaning back against the couch and scrubbing your hands over your tired eyes. 

Maybe you hadn’t only done the favors to keep your mind off of Bradley. Maybe you’d done it to avoid him, too, just a little. Getting them all done yourself meant that you didn’t have to spend an extra couple of hours with him. Sure, it would’ve gone faster with two, but if you wanted this crush to end with the wedding, you needed to start distancing yourself. 

It wasn’t the kindest way to deal with the circumstances—and maybe your feelings would ebb, now that you knew there was absolutely no chance of acting on them. 

Still, whatever happened, you’d gotten the favors done before the end of the week, as you’d promised Katie. 

–  

“When should I come by? I can bring pizza or something, we’ll get those favors knocked out before the party.” 

It was a sweet offer, because Bradley was a sweet guy. You planted your elbow on your desk, plaintively eyeing your work email before looking around to see if any of your coworkers were listening in. 

“Actually, I took care of them,” You admitted. There was a pause on the other end of the phone, and you bit your lip, waiting for his answer. 

“You—…All of them?” He finally asked. 

“Mhm!” You forced the tone of your hum to be bright and chipper. 

“That’s, like…That’s like two hundred bags.” 

“One hundred and ninety-seven, but. Close!” 

“I could’a helped you.” 

You thought that he sounded disappointed, but surely you were reading into it. 

“No, I know! I know. I got them done, it was no problem. I had time.” 

There was another pause on the other end of the phone, and you found yourself wondering if he was distracted with whatever he was doing on the other end of the line. 

“…How long did it take?” He asked. 

“A bit? I don’t know. I didn’t time it. It was fine, I was awake.” 

“You did them last night?”

“Yes! When else?” You laughed nervously. “Look, it’s seriously fine. They’re all set.” 

“Are you alright?” 

You sagged back in your office chair. 

“Yeah,” You fibbed. 

Another harrowing pause. Then—

“Alright.” 

It sounded like a tired concession. You forced yourself to draw in a deep breath, trying to lift the anxious weight moving to settle in your chest. 

“I’ll need help bringing them to the venue,” You added. 

“I can do that.” 

You knew he could; you hadn’t doubted his willingness to help at any turn. You tipped your head into your hand, nodding a little bit. 

“Sounds good, thank you.”

“You looking forward to the party tonight?” 

No, you really weren’t. In your experience, joint bachelor/bachelorette parties were either hellishly boring, or nothing but trouble. 

“Yeah!” You chirped. “It’s gonna be fun!”

–  

Dinner had been nice. The first couple of rounds of drinks had also been nice. Moving to a club had felt like a bad idea, but there you were nonetheless, crammed between the bar and Bradley. You were trying to focus on anything but the feeling of his body behind yours and the scent of his cologne as you waited for your drinks. This was bad. This was sort of torture. You peered around your shoulder as you heard Katie shriek in excitement, and smiling as her fiance, Cory, leaned in to give her a kiss. 

“They’re sweet.” 

Bradley had to get close to say it—to speak it into your ear, over the sound of the music. He rested his hand on your hip, as if he had to hold and keep your attention, as if you wouldn’t know that he was talking to you. You managed a nod, your fingers flexing against the bar. You lowered your head, stomach twisting as the bartender pushed your drinks toward you. You reached out, passing Bradley’s drink back to him before you took hold of your own. 

Bradley gave your hip a squeeze, steering you back toward the group. Oh—god. You closed your eyes tightly for a second before you turned to face Bradley. You pressed your drink toward his hand, forcing him to let go of you and take hold of it, and leaned in so that he could hear you. 

“I’m going to get some air! I’ll be right back.” 

You turned, squeezing through fellow clubbers before he could ask or argue. You gave the bouncer a murmur of, “Excuse me,” As you slid past him. You puffed softly as the sounds of the club dropped away. The air outside was warm; the breeze pushing over you almost smelled sweet compared to the stench of sweat and booze waiting for you back inside. 

Ugh, god. You didn’t want to go back inside, but you knew you couldn’t get away with going home. Most of your stuff was inside, anyway—your phone, your wallet, your bag. 

“Do you have a light?” 

You glanced up at the question, giving the man asking a small shake of your head. 

“No, sorry.” 

“Eh. I’ll find one.” The man reached into his pocket, tapping out two cigarettes. “Want one?”

“I’m good, but thank you.” 

He grunted, pushing the other one back into the pack before drawing one out and tucking it between his lips. He wandered away, and you leaned back against the outside of the club. 

Maybe you could slide into the booth, grab your things, say goodbye to Katie and Cory, and just dip without him noticing—

“Sure you don’t want one?” 

You looked up, nerves twisting as the man leaned close against the wall beside you. You shook your head, straightening up. 

“Honestly, I’m fine,” You insisted, heading for the door. 

“Hey, c’mon. You could at least keep me company,” The man argued, taking hold of your wrist and tugging you back toward him. Panic trickled through your veins as you tried to yank your wrist back, hissing, “Let go of me—”

“Hey!” 

You hardly caught sight of Bradley before he was shoving the man harshly against the wall. 

“The fuck, dude!” The smoker spluttered, dropping your wrist as he gave Bradley’s chest a shove in return. 

“She said let go, asshole,” Bradley seethed, knocking the man’s hands away. Oh, fuck. You glanced nervously toward the bouncer and the people waiting on line as they took notice of the trouble brewing. Bradley could not get into shit on the weekend of the wedding—Katie would kill you both. 

“He did, he let go! He let go,” You insisted, resting your hand on Bradley’s chest. When it didn’t nudge him back, you took hold of his hand, tugging him back with all your might and hardly budging him. “Let’s go!” You gave his arm another pull, pleading, “Bradley, please.” 

It took another harrowing moment of contentious staring between the two before Bradley drew away, his tight, sharp gaze still set on the other man. You gripped his hand more tightly, raising your other hand to press against his shoulder. 

“Let’s go back inside,” You urged. “Come on.” 

It took another couple of pulls before Bradley acquiesced, trailing you back toward the bouncer. He hesitated at the door, eyes still set on the man before he allowed you to pull him in. 

“Are you alright?” Were the first words out of his mouth. 

“Are you crazy?” Were yours as you ripped your hand away from his. “What the hell were you thinking!” 

Bradley looked stricken, brow knitting together. 

“The hell did you expect me to do? He was all over you!”

“Why did you even follow me outside?” 

“You practically ran out here, I thought something was wrong—and then I got out there and it was worse than I thought.” 

You sighed heavily, turning away and shaking your head. 

“Let’s just…Can we go back to the others?” You mumbled, turning from him. You heard him fall into step a couple of paces behind you, seeming to keep a measured distance as you made your way back to the rest of the wedding party. Once there, you embedded yourself deep into the corner with the bride and the other bridesmaids, forcing your smile wide and avoiding Bradley for the rest of the night. 

–  

It had been terrifying, having someone grab you—but the speed with which Bradley had come to your rescue was…Sort of hot? Sure, you could’ve gotten out of it yourself, but he hadn’t even hesitated. He’d gotten right up in that guy’s face—for you. You were certain that he would’ve done it for any of the other bridesmaids…Though you weren’t sure if he would’ve followed them outside…

No, he would’ve. Surely he would’ve. He was a good guy, it seemed like something he would do—

“Hey.” 

He was nice, and sweet, and…Really, really attractive, god. The look on his face, the cords of his neck straining as he’d shoved the man, as he’d hissed, She said let go, asshole—

“Hey!” 

You jumped at the feeling of Katie flicking the side of your head. The backseat of the uber was a tight squeeze with you, Karie, and Cory. You turned from looking out through the car window, smiling when you saw her watching you. Cozied into Cory’s side, she was peering at you with hazy blue eyes; her copper hair seemed dull under the glow of passing streetlights; her bride sash hung limply around her middle.

“What?” You chuckled. 

“What’s going on with you?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You’re being all…” She waved a finger at you. “You’re being weird. What happened?” 

“Nothing happened.” 

“I heard Bradley tell Cory that someone grabbed you.” 

Your face burned with embarrassment, but you forced your expression to a neutral set.

“It was some drunk guy outside of the club,” You excused. “No big deal, you know. Nothing I’ve never dealt with.” 

“You were all weird when you came back, too. All quiet.” 

“It was loud in there, and I didn’t have much to say. I was vibing.” 

Katie’s eyes narrowed slightly, and you could feel her winding up for a question before she was distracted by the sound of Cory snoring behind her. You grinned as she shifted beside him, elbowing in the side with a hiss of, “Babe! Don’t snore, you’re gonna kill my uber rating!”

–  

Loading the favor bags into Bradley’s Bronco was done in awkward silence. Neither of you said much, apart from, “Here,” and, “Thanks,” and, “I can grab that one.” Despite how carefully they were cushioned as you put them into the car, you found yourself looking into the backseat every few moments as you heard the bottles rattling from some bump in the road. You glanced at Bradley as you turned to look through the windshield again. You weren’t hungover, but you did have a growing headache. 

“…Sorry I got snippy last night.” 

It sort of pained you to say it, but you’d been repeating it in your head for the last two hours. You had to work your way up to saying it. You’d played with the phrasing, the tone, the pace, and it still felt stupid as it came out of your mouth. Before Bradley could say anything, you added, “I know you were just trying to help and I shouldn’t have freaked out at you like that.” 

Bradley still didn’t respond, and it took everything in your power to not turn and look at him, to see if he was even listening, or if he was rolling his eyes. But after a moment, he offered, “S’alright. I may’ve overreacted a little.” 

“…I thought you were gonna slug the guy.” You were trying to tease him, but Bradley didn’t even miss a beat:

“I thought I was, too.” 

You turned to look at him then, stunned. Bradley kept his focus on the road, his jaw clenched, his gaze unreadable behind his sunglasses. You swallowed thickly, looking into the backseat again as the bottles rattled. 

“Would you stop fussin’ over those?” He groaned. “They’re fine.” 

“They better be. We don’t have any extras if they break.” 

“Want me to slow the car to fifteen miles an hour?” 

You could see him starting to smile in your periphery. Your stupid, crush-blind giddiness welled, feeling the tension in the car begin to break down. 

“No…” You twisted back around in your seat, slumping petulantly. “Twenty will be fine.” 

Bradley turned to look at you as the car came to a stop at a red light, gazing at you over the top of his sunglasses. 

“Twenty-three, final offer.” 

“Sold.”

Bradley’s smile made your stomach flip, and you both turned to look through the windshield again as the light turned green. 

–  

The wedding was perfect. The reception was painful. 

Liz seemed lovely, and for as kind as you were trying to be, your attempts were made even more difficult by your wealth of feeling for Bradley, and the adoring way that he curled his arm around her shoulders, pressed a kiss to her cheek, her lips, her temple; the way he offered to get her a drink, or something to eat; the way his hand slid automatically to her hip, or her lower back; the way he hung on her every word.

You didn’t belabor it. When you spotted the two of them dancing together, her body cradled safely against his, you furiously pushed away your feelings of inadequacy and upset away in favor of looking at Katie and Cory. You relaxed at the sight of them—at the love in their eyes, the sureness there.

It reminded you that loving someone wasn’t supposed to hurt. So whatever it was that you felt for Bradley could be left behind, in that room. You needed it to be. 

–  

“You missed the bouquet toss.” 

The sound of his voice made you shiver a little. Aw, hell. You’d only just managed to center yourself. Looking out over the moonlit ocean had calmed you, somewhat. But maybe whatever feelings you had for Bradley could be left…On the venue’s patio? But you glanced back, leaning against the railing and eyeing Bradley as he came closer. 

“I’m alright with that. The last time I was in the middle of one of those, I almost got socked in the face.” 

“Yeesh,” Bradley muttered.

“Yeah, bouquet tosses are no joke.” 

He rested his arms against the wide railing beside you, looking out over the water. The two of you stood in calm silence for a while.

“So when’s your next Maid of Honor gig?”

You smiled, shaking your head. “Hopefully not for a while. I think I need a break from the wedding circuit.” 

“You say circuit or circus?” 

“Bit of column A, bit of column B.” 

Bradley chuckled.

“Well, whenever it is, if you need a hand, you let me know.” 

“Even if you’re not involved in the wedding?” 

“Sure. This was honestly kinda fun. And it’s ‘cause I did it with you.” 

The butterflies in your chest whirled restlessly as you felt Bradley look at you. You forced yourself to laugh, shaking your head.

“I wouldn’t foist wedding duties on you if you weren’t part of the wedding, Bradley. That would be mean. I appreciate the offer, though.” 

“…Could I pick your brain about wedding stuff, sometime?” He hedged. “You know, as Liz and I get closer to ours?” 

You could say no. You could remind him of what you said, of the fact that you were getting off of the wedding circuit once this wedding was up. You could stick to your conviction that as the necessity for your proximity passed, you’d keep your distance from him— 

“Of course you can,” You nodded, turning to look at him. His sweet smile and the full weight of his gaze and focus were enough to crack you in two. 

“Dream team?” He asked, holding his hand up for a high five. You nodded, giving him a quick high five before you curled your arms around yourself. 

“Dream team.”

–  

It had been a mistake to reopen the lines of communication. You’d made the decision while tipsy, sending him an innocent, innocuous message. You hadn’t even expected a response—but he’d gotten back to you within minutes. You could’ve cut the communication dead there, but you’d found yourself grappling for connection, for the feeling of being wanted. You knew you’d get it from your ex, for better or for worse, and you needed something to drown the rotting buds of affection that you still felt blooming for Bradley. 

You hadn’t seen Bradley since the wedding, but the two of you had kept in touch. When he’d started calling you, most of the conversation had been around his wedding prep, but it hadn’t stayed that way. The two of you always managed to get off-topic—to ask and talk about one another’s lives, your days, your work. After the first couple of months, he seemed to drop the wedding chat entirely, just calling to talk. When you did try to steer it back in that direction—to a venue, or a time of year, or flowers—he managed to talk his way out of it. And you could’ve pried, but you let him avoid the topic. You were happy not to hear about Liz. Whenever your phone buzzed and his name appeared, your heart made a sharp leap from your chest to your throat. You craved the sound of his voice, missed the sight of his smile, reveled in his teasing and laughter. 

So sure, starting a conversation with your ex, Ryan, had been sort of stupid. But it felt smarter than allowing your crush for an engaged man to completely cloud your judgement.

– 

“Are you going to Cory and Katie’s for brunch this weekend?” 

“Is that this weekend?” You groaned, tipping your head back. “Fuck, I forgot.” 

“I thought you would’ve been on top of that! You were so on top of things for the wedding.” 

“Well, that was different. That was way more involved.” 

“Hey, brunch can be pretty damn involved.” 

“You speaking from experience, Bradshaw?” 

“I have faced some terrifying situations, but the worst of which was a bottomless brunch when they ran out of prosecco.” 

You rolled your eyes, shifting in your office chair and stifling a snort. 

“You’re such a weirdo.” 

“So am I gonna see you?” 

Am I gonna see you. 

Not are we going to see you—because presumably Liz would be there, too. A few months ago, Bradley had mentioned wanting to bring her more into the fold, into his group of friends. Most of his friends knew Cory and Katie; most of them would probably be at brunch. 

“Uh…” You eyed your calendar. “Maybe?” 

“You too busy for me now?” 

“For you?” You scoffed a laugh. “This isn’t your brunch, mister.” 

“No, I know. That’s not what I mean, it just…” 

Bradley trailed off on the other end of the phone, and you frowned, shaking your head. 

“‘It just’, what?” 

“It’s been a while since the wedding. It’d be nice to see you.” 

“It’d be nice to see you, too.” The admission felt dangerous, but it was too late to draw back in—and it was mutual. You wouldn’t have dared say it to him if he hadn’t said it first. 

“So come by,” He urged. “At least for a bit.” 

–  

For a bit. You could make it a short stop. 

“We’ll be fast,” You swore. “Like, a hello and a bellini and then we are out of there.” 

“Why are we going if you don’t even want to stay long?” 

It was a valid question, but it made you bristle a bit. It was clear that Ryan wasn’t excited to go. Well, he’d never gotten along with your friends, anyway. He’d had a feeling that they didn’t like him—and he had been right. You hadn’t told anyone that the two of you were seeing one another again, and maybe it was unfair to ambush them like this, but you didn’t think you could be around Bradley and Liz—around their cooing and teasing and sweetness—without something or someone to distract you from the reality of the situation. 

“You want me to drop you off somewhere?” You asked. “I can. I can drop you off and pick you up when I’m done.” 

“I’m only meant—” 

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to go.”  

“I never said I didn’t wanna go.” 

“You’re acting like it.” 

“You’re the one saying we don’t have to say long!” He scoffed. “Can we park and get in there?” 

You puffed your cheeks out and pushed out a breath, shaking your head a little bit. This was a bad idea. Maybe you should turn around and head home—

But your heart leapt at the sight of Bradley’s Bronco parked a few cars back from Katie and Cory’s, and you knew you wouldn’t turn around. 

Quick in, quick out. One bellini, maybe half of a bagel, a warning that you had other plans and couldn’t stick around long. Ask Katie how the honeymoon was, tell Cory to call you when they needed to plan the baby shower, maybe high five Bradley, and then you’d dip.

“We always hang out with my friends,” Ryan grumbled as you parked. 

“Why is that even something you’d complain about?” 

“Because you hide me from yours.” 

You put the car in park, stomach churning guiltily as you met his eye. 

“You don’t like my friends,” You reminded him. 

“I’m willing to try, but they need to be, too.” 

“…Okay,” You nodded. “I’ll talk to them about it. Not now, but like. I’ll talk to them about it.” 

“Thank you.” 

You sighed softly, reaching out and taking his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry.” 

“I know.” Ryan tipped his head back against the rest, slightly mussing his ash blond hair. “I don’t get why you’re so freaked about this brunch thing. It’s, like. Supposed to be chill, right?” 

“It is. It is, it’s gonna be a lot of people, their apartment is pretty small. You know how I get when it’s loud and crowded, and…Overloads me.”

Ryan rolled his eyes, glancing toward the building.

“Let’s get you in and out, then,” He offered. “And then we can get me in and out.” He waggled his brows, and you huffed, drawing your hand out of his and getting out of the car. 

Ryan took hold of your hand again once the two of you were on the sidewalk, trailing you as you led him to the door of the apartment building. You could hear music and chatter coming from Katie and Cory’s. You drew in a deep breath before you raised your hand, knocking on the door. It was a moment before it opened, and as soon as it did, your heart stuttered in your chest.

Your attraction to Bradley had never faded like it was supposed to. You had worked at it. You’d reminded yourself of the pros and cons, beaten yourself over the head with the fact that he was with someone, in a committed relationship. You had pushed yourself back into Ryan’s arms because, for a time, you had felt wanted by him. Things had never been perfect between you. You butted heads, and you tended to not want to budge on your arguments. You were quick to anger with one another, with each little nitpick reopening the old wounds. Your relationship had been on-again off-again for a couple of years, with each period of on-again falling into the same patterns that had led to the two of you splitting up in the first place. 

This latest stint with Ryan had only been exacerbated by your frequent conversations with and interest in another man. Every conversation, every touch, hold, kiss, conversation, had been haunted with the idea of Bradley lingering in your periphery. 

“Hey!” Bradley grinned. He reached out, drawing you in without a second’s thought or hesitation. 

You leaned into him, curling your arm around his middle and patting his back. You held for as long as was appropriate, and not nearly as long as you’d like; the scent of him threatened to draw you back in. You would’ve embraced him fully if Ryan wasn’t still holding your other hand. 

“I can’t believe you made it—Katie literally just told me there was no way you were showing up,” He added, leaning back to get a better look at you. 

“Yeah, well,” You smiled weakly. “We can’t stay too long, but we wanted to drop in and see everyone.” 

Your repeated use of we seemed to jolt Bradley. His gaze dropped to your other hand, then swept up Ryan’s arm to take in his face. 

“Bradley, this is Ryan,” You added, stepping back to allow Ryan to come into the apartment fully. “Ryan, Bradley. Bradley was the Best Man at Katie and Cory’s wedding.” 

“Aw, yeah, I’ve seen pictures from the day-of,” Ryan held his hand out, giving Bradley’s a shake. “Nice to meet you, man.” 

“Nice to meet you, too,” Bradley nodded. 

“Where’s Liz!” You tacked on, glancing around. A look that you didn’t recognize flashed across Bradley’s face, but it was gone in a blink.

“Ah, she, uh…She couldn’t make it.” 

“Aw, I’m sorry,” You frowned—and you tried to mean it. 

“It’s alright. Come on, come in,” Bradley added, waving you inside. “Sorry, I shouldn’t stall you guys in the doorway.” 

“It’s okay,” You laughed, looking around before glancing back at Ryan. “Let’s see if we can go find the newlyweds.” You glanced up at Bradley, patting his shoulder lightly. “I’ll see you around.” 

It felt wrong to say—it felt worse when you saw Bradley’s expression falter a touch. But you were already turning away from him and heading for a group of a few of your friends. You saw the flash of their horror and confusion before they pushed smiles onto their faces, squealing, “Hey!” as a group. 

“Hi!” You smiled back, giving Ryan’s hand a reassuring squeeze. You leaned into each of them, kissing their cheeks before leaning back. Katie hardly leaned into you; her gaze was still set on your ex.

“Y’all remember Ryan,” You asked, waving back toward him. It garnered nods and murmurs of agreement. 

“Nice to see you,” He offered before he leaned in a little. “I’m going to go grab a drink. You want one?” 

“Sure,” You nodded, “Thanks.” 

Before you could blink, Ryan ducked in, pressing his lips to yours in a quick, warm kiss. He didn’t overdo it, or make it pointedly salacious for the sake of your friends, like he may have in the past. Now, he gave your lower back a pat and turned, heading away from you, and leaving your little group in a pointed silence. You didn’t meet any of their eyes. You stared at Katie’s glass and warned them: 

“I don’t want to talk about it right now.” 

It forced them off of the topic, and onto a new subject: Katie and Cory’s honeymoon in Ibiza. You found yourself half-listening; the other ear was unwittingly searching out the sound of Bradley’s voice in your periphery. You caught on it now and again for a syllable or two, and your head would twitch in his direction. It was impossible for you not to. As badly as you wanted to go to him—to soak up his smiles and his warm, kind eyes—you rooted yourself with your friends, averting your gaze from their nervous and judgemental glances. 

But when the conversation shifted again—when your ear caught on Ella’s comment of, “—A shame about Bradley and Liz, isn’t it?” Your head snapped to them.

“I know,” Katie sighed, shaking her head, “He’s such a good guy.” 

“What happened?” You frowned, shaking your head. The others glanced around conspiratorially before they leaned in a little more. 

“Apparently,” Katie leaned into it, “He and Liz, like…Imploded. She said it was taking them too long to get the wedding together, he said that it would take as long as they needed—” 

“Neither of them would budge,” Ella shrugged. “Apparently she eloped with some guy she met, like, the week after they split.” 

“Oh, my god,” You breathed. The news twisted you all up; you didn’t know how it was possible that someone could do that to Bradley. 

“Honestly, I don’t think she really even wanted to be married to him,” Cassie offered. “I think she just wanted to be married.” 

You found yourself twisting around to try and catch sight of Bradley then—like you could see some visible sign of the change, the distress; like the ring you’d come to imagine sitting on his finger had disappeared. 

And then Ryan rested a hand on your lower back and pressed a bellini into your hand, and it was like a bucket of ice water had been tipped over your head. 

Bradley hadn’t said a thing to you. You had been asking about Liz for months. You had questioned their plans: their honeymoon arrangements, their colors, their venue options; you’d offered to get him in touch with coordinators, with florists, and DJs and caterers and bakers and goddamnit, why hadn’t he told you? 

Why hadn’t he at least feigned that the wedding was on hold? That they were regrouping, or restrategizing, or asked you to change the topic, or to just shut the hell up about it? Had he not wanted you to know? Was it a matter of his loss, his pride? 

Finally catching sight of him across the room, you found him with a gaggle of guys. He had a glass in his hand, and a smile on his face as he laughed—the kind that made his eyes crinkle, and his chin tip up with the force of it. You saw his head turn toward you a touch, and you hurriedly averted your gaze, raising your glass to your lips and taking a deep draw from your glass. Fuck, fuck fuck fuck. The alcohol seemed to burn and bubble as it dropped into your belly. 

“Hon, are you okay?” Ella asked, frowning at you. “You’re looking a little green around the gills.” 

“Uh…No, you know what, I actually, um,” You cleared your throat. “I’m not feeling well. I think we should get going, actually, we’ve got some other things that we need to, um…” You cleared your throat, glancing back toward Ryan. He looked as confused as your friends. Maybe he figured the two of you would stay for more than five minutes. You were a flurry of apology as you pecked their cheeks, grabbing Ryan’s hand and half-dragging him out of the apartment. 

“They say something about me?” He asked tiredly as the two of you left. 

“No,” You shook your head, climbing into the car. “No, it really—I really do feel like shit right now.” 

Your heart was pounding in your chest; the blood was roaring in your ears; your head was spinning. You stuck the key into the ignition before you leaned back to put your seatbelt on, drawing in a deep breath as you tried to calm yourself down. 

“If you feel so shitty, you probably shouldn’t be driving,” Ryan grumbled. 

“I can handle it.”

“You could’ve at least waited for me to get something to eat—” 

“Oh my god,” You groaned. “Maybe you should’ve grabbed a bagel while you were already in the kitchen, then.” 

“You said you wanted a drink.” 

“You offered to get me one!” 

You turned to the car, turning the key in the ignition before glancing at Ryan, doing a double take and waving at his chest.

“…What?” He asked. 

“Would you put your fricking seatbelt on, please?” 

“Seriously?” 

“Yes, seriously!” You insisted. “God forbid something happen, I don’t want you flying through the fucking windshield—” 

“You know what?” Ryan reached out, opening the door. “I’m gonna walk.” 

“You’re gonna walk?” You scoffed. “You’re really gonna fucking—” 

You winced as he slammed the door shut. You shook your head, glancing into the rear view. Fucking fine. If he wanted to walk, he could fucking walk. You glanced to the side mirrors and checked your blindspot before flooring it out of the spot and peeling down the block. You glanced down as you heard your phone buzz, certain you would have a text from Ryan, asking you to pick him up at the corner. 

Instead, you spotted Bradley’s name. You found yourself pitching your phone into the passenger side footwell on instinct as you turned back to the road.

He hadn’t even thought about pulling you in when he saw you. He’d drawn you into his arms, completely disregarding Ryan—so much so that he seemed surprised when you pointed Ryan out. He’d acted like you were the only person there. 

You pressed your elbow against the door, resting your head on your head. 

Six months. You had been asking Bradley (or trying to ask Bradley) about the wedding for the last six months. He had played along. You felt stupid, embarrassed. 

And goddamnit, you felt hopeful. 

–  

When you finally got home and retrieved your phone from the car footwell, you had three texts and five missed calls. 

Three of the missed calls were from Ryan, as well as one of the texts—a request to sit down and hash out whatever the hell happened at the party. Another was from Katie (Bitch, you got a lot of explaining to do with a gif of Ricky Ricardo waggling his finger). You saw the missed calls and texts from Bradley last: 

BB (#DreamTeam)

Sorry I missed you on your way out

As if it was his fault.

Well, then again, it sort of was.

You eyed the last time he called; it had been a few minutes ago. You huffed softly, considering your options. You shot a text over to Ryan agreeing to meet first. You knew that delaying your response in favor of calling Bradley would send your guilt through the roof. Then, you hesitantly tapped on Bradley’s name, putting the phone on speaker. You glanced around, sighing and leaning back in the driver’s seat as the ringtone brrrr’d in the absence of his response. It was one ring away from going voicemail when you heard him pick up. 

“Hello?” He answered.

“Hey. Sorry, I was driving, I didn’t, uh—I didn’t see that you called.” 

“That’s okay.” 

You nodded a little before you paused, brows raising a touch. 

“So what’s up?” You finally pressed. 

“Seemed like you left in a hurry. I turned around and you were just gone.” 

“Something came up.” 

“Katie said you weren’t feeling well.” 

Snitch. 

“I wasn’t.” 

“Feeling better now?” Bradley pried, and before you could even think of your answer, “Wanna go grab a drink, or…Dinner, something?” 

You tipped your head back against the rest, closing your eyes. No. No. That was an awful idea. You needed to get together with Ryan as soon as possible, to get your shit together, to work out whatever you needed to work out—

–  

“You been here before?” You asked. 

“Uh—”

“Hey, Rooster!” 

Your brows raised as he raised a hand, waving at a woman not too far off. He turned a bashful smile toward you as he lowered his hand, folding his arms on the bar. 

“It’s near the base, so it’s pretty popular with people in the service.” 

“It’s nice in here,” You nodded, looking around. 

“Nicer than Katie’s?” 

He didn’t bother trying to be subtle, leaning into the question. You slowly turned to face forward again, casting the bartender a smile and a thanks as she set your drinks down. Bradley waited until she drifted away before he added, 

“You ran out of there like you were on fire.” 

“Thought you turned around I was just gone,” You reminded him, raising your brows. Bradley’s eyes skated across your face. 

“Saw you out of the corner of my eye,” He admitted. 

“How’d you know it was me?”

“I’ve seen you ditch out of somewhere before.” 

You turned from him, taking up your beer. 

“You need someone to sock that guy, I’m your first call,” Bradley added, and you couldn’t help but smile ruefully as you shook your head. 

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” 

“Katie said he doesn’t treat you right.” 

“The way Liz treated you?” 

It fell out of your mouth before you can stop it. You watched Bradley’s expression harden, his jaw clenching as his fingers flexed around the bottle in front of him. He didn’t hold your gaze. As bad as you felt for mentioning it, you couldn’t have it over your head anymore. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You plied when he gave no answer. “I asked about that shit for months, like a fricking idiot.” 

“You weren’t an idiot. You didn’t know.”

“Exactly my point! Why didn’t you at least pretend you had postponed it or something?” 

“I didn’t wanna talk about it. I still don’t.” 

“Then why’d you invite me out?” 

“I said I didn’t want to talk about that, not that I didn’t want to talk at all.” 

You both turned back to your drinks, gaze set contentiously on them. 

“…I take it Katie told you about Ryan?” You hedged.

“A bit, yeah.” 

“What’d she say?” 

“That he’s a dick who won’t compromise.” 

“Yeah, well,” You shifted on your bar stool. “I don’t exactly have a gold medal in that, either when it comes to him.” 

“Just him?” 

You considered for a moment, tipping your chin up and eyeing the opposite wall. 

“We butt heads, we always have. It always starts out pretty well, and then…I don’t know. Little things start to break down, little communication errors or fights and they get bigger and bigger, and,” You raised a hand, mimicking an explosion. “He was peeved when we went to Katie’s, thought I pulled him out of there because they said something to me about him. I mean, they would’ve, probably. And they clearly said something to you.” 

“She said she had no idea how you even linked back up.” 

“I texted him a kitty picture.” 

You saw Bradley frown out of the corner of your eye, his mouth working wordlessly as he seemed to grapple with something. It clicked, and you groaned, “No, an actual cat, you—” You reached out, giving his shoulder a light shove as the two of you dissolved into laughter, “You perv.” 

–  

You don’t let Bradley right back in, and you don’t show Ryan right out, either. Where your friendship with Bradley had been middling, your reopened channels of communication were slowly bringing it back to life. Where your relationship with Ryan had been waning, you gave it another shot in earnest. 

– 

“So when do I get to meet him?” Bradley asked.

“You already met him,” You chuckled. 

“Not properly. I didn’t get a chance to really talk to him.” 

“You want to?” 

Bradley leaned back in his seat a little. You could feel his gaze sweeping you, even as you poked at your dinner. 

“You don’t want me to?” He batted back. You shrugged. 

“I have no problem with it. Kinda surprised, considering what Katie’s told you about him.” 

“I like to draw my own conclusions. ‘Sides, if you’re with him, he can’t be all that bad.” 

“Your opinion of me is way too high, Bradshaw.” 

“Your opinion of yourself isn’t high enough.” 

Your stomach flipped at his insistence, and you raised your drink to swallow your arguments. 

“Gonna have to meet him soon,” He added. 

“Why’s that?” 

“I’m goin’ away.” 

He said it so casually, so easily, like it wouldn’t hit you below the belt and ruin your appetite. You carefully lowered your glass back to the table. 

“When?” You asked as lightly as you could manage. 

“Next week.” 

“How long will you be gone?” 

“At least a couple of months.” 

You nodded a little, belly squirming with nerves. It was a wholly irrational response. You knew very well what Bradley did. You just hadn’t come into contact with the reality of it before. 

“So?” He leaned against the table. “When can I meet him?”

“…I don’t know, I don’t…” You shook your head. “I don’t know when he’s, um…” Your brain was scrambled all of the sudden. It was like it was being overtaken with the knowledge of Bradley’s leaving, the possibilities. “I’ll ask.” 

“I’ll pencil it in.” 

“Am I gonna see you before I leave?” 

“With Ryan?” 

“I mean if he can’t make it.” 

You give Bradley a guarded gaze from beneath your eyelids, smiling as you see him nodding. 

“Course you’re gonna. Dream team, remember?” 

– 

“Think your guy can pencil me in for when I’m back?” 

You grimaced at his question. Bradley had been gone for almost a month, and asking that question for nearly just as long. Your phone time had only increased with his being so far away; you got a call from him every other day, if not every day. You shifted on your couch, eyeing your tv boredly. 

“Be kinda weird for you to hang out with a guy I’m not with anymore, but yeah, I’m sure we could work something out.” 

There was a moment of quiet on the other end of the phone before he asked, “When’d that happen?“

"Yesterday.”

“And what happened there?” 

“We were not, uh…” You shook your head. “Ultimately, we weren’t compatible. I think that’s the nice way to say it.” 

“What’s the mean way?” 

“He’s a fucking dumbass.” 

“Makes sense.”

“Does it?”

“Sure. Anyone who can’t make it work with you—there’s gotta be something wrong with ‘em.” 

You tipped your head back against your couch, your feet kicking with childish excitement. Ugh, goddamnit, he always seemed to know the right thing to say. 

“Anyway,” You pushed on as you settled back down. “I can still set you up with Ryan.” 

“No thank you.”

“Gee, why not?”

“He’s not really my type. Sounds like he’d be Liz’s, though.” 

You smiled a little ruefully, hand scrubbing over the side of your neck. It had taken some time, but Bradley had finally opened up to you about what had gone wrong. It hadn’t been anyone’s fault, he’d sworn. It was just that they were in different places, ready (or not ready) for different things. He’d gradually gone from not giving a damn what she’d gotten up to without him to wishing her well. You couldn’t imagine feeling the same good will toward Ryan. 

“Doesn’t seem like she needs a fix up,” You quipped.

“She certainly does not.” 

“Mm. How’s it going over there?”

“It’s been alright. Tiring,” Bradley admitted. “We’ve moved on to parameter-specific runs, and it’s, uh…It’s gonna be a hard one.” 

You bit your lip. You weren’t sure what to say that he surely hadn’t heard a hundred times before. Tell him that he would be fine? Beg him to come home safely? 

You hadn’t been able to spend time alone with Bradley before he’d left. Katie had wound up having a small dinner at her place—something for friends, something more casual. You couldn’t bring yourself to selfishly break off another bit of his time, and you’d soaked up all of him that you could while you were there. When the party had ended, you’d trailed him back to the Bronco. Your conversation had gone on and on outside of it, and then inside when you couldn’t bring yourself to stand still. Even then, practically facing one another in the front seat of his car, you’d found yourself feeling antsy. You’d wanted to tell him something beyond the fact that you would miss him. You wanted to tell him that you were worried about him; you wanted to somehow let him know that the news of his sudden departure had kept you up for the better part of a week; you wanted to know if he would be thinking of you, too; you wanted to reach out and touch—his hand, his arm, his cheek, something. 

But you’d kept to your side of the car, bottled your protests and worries, and resolutely tried to ignore the way your heart leapt in your throat whenever his knee nearly brushed yours. 

Now, the clarity of distance told you that you’d done the right thing. Laying some confession of interest or a kiss on him would’ve clouded the lines of communication that you had open now—lines that you weren’t willing to jeopardize. 

“You’ll get it,” You finally said, “Whatever it is.” 

“I’d tell you more, but—”

“No, that’s alright. I think that would just make me more worried, anyway.” 

“You worry about me?” 

Crap. You slid down in your seat, pressing your head back against the cushion. 

“Course I do,” You admitted quietly, as if he could lose the sound of you over the phone—as if your mumbled confirmation wouldn’t be chased or leaned into. 

“You don’t have to.” 

“Oh, well, thank you for that absolution. I was only worrying for fun.” 

“C’mon,” Bradley chuckled softly. “That’s not what I meant.” 

“I know,” You grumbled. 

“It’s nice.” 

“It’s nice? You enjoy making me worry? That’s just cruel, Bradshaw.” 

“Swear to god, when I get back, I’m gonna—” 

“What?” You goaded, heart ticking up in your chest. “What are you gonna do?” 

Maybe it was a step too far. Bradley went quiet on the other end of the phone. Your mouth went dry as you waited with nervous anticipation. And then you registered the yell of someone on the other end of the phone, the use of his callsign. 

“Shit,” He muttered, then, louder: “I gotta go.” 

“Okay,” You nodded. It was better that he couldn’t see the nod, or the way panic washed across your face. “Be careful.” 

He didn’t need to be told that, but you couldn’t help the plea. 

“I will,” He swore. And then he was gone. You lowered your phone, watching as BB (#DreamTeam) flickered away, leaving your lock screen. Gonna what? What the hell was he gonna do when he got back? 

Then again, you weren’t sure you cared what it was, so long as he did get back. 

–  

“Did I wake you up?” 

“No!” You leaned over, turning your lamp on and pushing yourself to sit up, your phone clutched in your hand. You knew that the first thing you’d said to him, your groggy little opening gambit of, “Whazzit?” had probably given the game away, but hell, he’d asked.

You’d hardly heard from Bradley for the last few weeks. You hadn’t reached out. You hadn’t wanted to bother or distract him from his task. But on the late nights when you couldn’t sleep, you found yourself wondering if Bradley hadn’t contacted you because he couldn’t—because something had gone wrong. You’d found yourself constantly checking your phone, keeping it on the edge of your periphery on the off-chance he called or texted. 

“You lying to me?” He added. At least he sounded a little amused by the prospect. You scrubbed your hand across your eyes. Damnit. 

“…A little bit,” You mumbled. 

“Go back to sleep.” 

“Nooo,” You whined, kicking your feet petulantly beneath your sheets. “Talk to me.” 

“You laying down?” 

“…I was.” 

“Lay back down.” 

The order felt a little salacious, but you were sure he meant nothing by it. Still, you slid down as he said, tipping your sleep-heavy head back against the pillows. 

“Talk to me,” You urged again. “Please?” 

“You should’ve let me go to voicemail.” 

“I said talk, not argue.” 

“Now who’s arguing?” 

You smiled, letting your eyes close. 

“‘M not arguing. Making a point isn’t arguing.” 

“It is when you use that tone.” 

“Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” 

His reassurance made you melt into the mattress a little more. 

“Good,” You mumbled. “I was afraid you weren’t.” 

“Don’t worry about that.” 

“Don’t tell me what to do.” 

“Now you’re arguing again,” He chuckled. “You always this combative when you wake up?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

“…Yeah, I would.” 

For a moment, you were certain you imagined him saying it, or that you’d managed to mishear him in his hazy state. 

“You could, you know,” You finally offered.

“Oh yeah? How would I do that?” 

His voice was different than you were used to—low and soothing, and curled with a wink that you longed to see. 

“How do you think?” 

“Could always call you in the middle of the night again.” 

You pushed a sleepy, ugly giggle, then slapped your hand over your mouth when you realized that the sound escaped you. Bradley laughed quietly on the other end. 

“If that’s the route you wanna go, Bradshaw.” 

“I am sorry,” He added. “I forgot what time it was over there.” 

“S’okay, I don’t mind. I missed your voice.” 

God, being tired made you far more loose-lipped than you typically were. You were already penciling in a reminder to be mortified about this conversation in the morning. But it was chased and erased by Bradley’s gentle, 

“I missed yours, too.” 

Your stomach squirmed at the sentiment, a goofy smile spreading across your face. 

“Even when it sounds like I’ve been gargling gravel?” You teased. 

“You don’t sound like that.” 

It took you a few moments to answer. As badly as you wanted to stay awake, you could feel sleep sinking its claws into you, drawing you back down. 

“No? Feels like I do.” 

“You don’t. You might if you stay up talking to me, though.” 

“Worth it,” You insisted. You didn’t know if he took longer to answer, or if it took longer to register with you. But his voice finally worked through:

“Go back to sleep.” 

“I don’t wanna.”

“I’ll see you soon.” 

“You promise?” 

“I promise.” 

“Mmmkay,” You finally relented. “Get home safe, please.” 

“I will.” 

–  

In the morning, you were far less embarrassed than you thought you would be. Sure, there were still things that you sort of wish that you hadn’t said, but they were clouded out by other things—like the way Bradley had reassured you that you didn’t sound like hell, and the fact that he’d missed your voice in the first place. 

Still, all of those things were stomped out by one thing that you were almost certain had been a figment of your sleep-addled mind, something that you wanted desperately to be real, but would never bring yourself to ask Bradley about—

The sound of his warm, tender little murmur right before you’d drifted off entirely: 

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

You spent the morning stewing over whether or not you’d really heard Bradley say that, or if you’d conjured it up. Maybe it was something that you simply wanted so badly that you had imagined it. 

Your eyes kept darting to your phone during work, your heart leaping into your throat every time the screen lit up. It was usually some app alert. Every time you perked up at the sight of it only to be let down, you felt silly. It was another entire day of ebbing excitement and rising disappointment, raising your hopes for absolutely nothing. By the time you left your office, you’d exhausted yourself. You were being ridiculous. Sure, he’d said he’d see you soon, but that was probably relative to—

“Did you manage to fall back asleep? Or did you stop talking because you were bored with me?” 

Your eyes widened, your mouth falling open at the sight of him outside your office building. You didn’t even think as you darted toward him, barrelling into him. Bradley took hold of you as though you hadn’t run into him with any force. He held firm, curling his arms around your shoulders as you clung to him. Neither of you spoke for a few minutes. He smoothed his hand over your back as you grappled with it all—the feel of him; the scent of his cologne and aftershave; the fact that you could see him, touch him, prove to yourself that he was okay. 

When you finally managed to talk yourself into loosening your grasp, you drew back a little, your bashful embarrassment bubbling up and trying to overtake the joy that you felt. Bradley simply smiled, cupping your cheek in a way that made your heart sing. 

“Hi there,” He murmured.

“Hi,” You laughed nervously. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—I wasn’t thinking.” 

“S’alright,” He shook his head. “I’m not complaining.” 

“When you said you’d see me soon, I didn’t think you meant so soon.” 

“I know. I wanted to surprise you.” 

“Well, mission accomplished.” 

His thumb swept gently over the apple of your cheek, his smile pulling wide to match yours. 

“When did you get back?” You asked.

“Couple of hours ago.” 

And he was there, with you? Your fingers tightened in the fabric of his shirt. 

“Aren’t you tired?”

“A little.” 

“Are you hungry?” 

“I could eat.” 

“What do you want?” 

Bradley’s tongue swept across his lips, his eyes skimming your face for a moment. Then, seeming to rethink something, he shrugged. 

“Whatever you’ve got.” 

–  

Technically you didn’t have much, but Bradley didn’t gripe about ordering in pizza. Hell, when you suggested it, he let out a groan that rattled right through you before emphatically agreeing: 

“Fuck yes. Please.” 

The way he said it stuck with you for entirely the wrong reason, and you found yourself almost studiously perusing a delivery app for the best option to keep him from clocking your aroused embarrassment. You didn’t have a dining room table, so the two of you wound up eating side by side, close, with some nonsense tv show that neither of you were really paying attention to playing in the background. When you asked about how it had gone, as delicately as possible, he shrugged.

“I won’t pretend it was the worst mission I’ve ever flown,” He said. “But I’m going to pretend that it was the best, either.” 

He didn’t go into specifics, but that was alright. You still weren’t quite certain that you wanted him to. The less you knew, the better. Besides, it didn’t matter, anyway. He was there, safe, with you. 

“Well,” You leaned back, on your couch, dusting the crumbs off of your fingers. “I’m glad it worked out.” “Mm,” He nodded, pushing his plate away before he looked around. You raised your brows as he lowered his hand to the cushions, giving them a squeeze. 

“So,” He smiled, “This where you usually call me from?” 

“Usually.”

“Even last night?” 

“Last night was a bit of an exception. I think we both know that.” 

“Where were you?” 

You nodded toward the hall. “My room. That’s where I gargle gravel.” 

“I told you you didn’t sound bad,” Bradley laughed.  

“Yeah, you did, and I still don’t believe you.” 

Bradley shook his head a little. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his hand sliding across the cushion, a little closer to you. 

“You sounded good,” He insisted. 

“Good might be stretching it.” 

“Good’s the tip of the iceberg.” 

Your tummy fluttered at the feeling of his fingertips tenderly skating over the back of your hand. Your fingers wriggled, like it would entice him to touch you more—like if you didn’t move, didn’t react, he’d pull away or stop. Bradley lowered his gaze to your hands, and your breath caught in your throat as you felt him gently turn yours, his calloused fingertips skating across your palm. 

“…Bradley?” 

“Mhm?” 

“This may be an incredibly dumb question—” 

“Doubt it.”

“Wh—” You laughed nervously before you could finish the question. “Why did you…I mean, you just got back. Why’d you come see me?” 

“Because I missed you.” He took hold of your hand, his thumb sweeping along the side. “I needed to see you.” 

The word makes your pulse quicken, and you blink a few times to try and clear your swimming head. 

“…Needed?” You repeated dazedly. Bradley nodded, lifting his head to meet your eye. 

“Needed, sweetheart.” 

The way he said it was so soft, and warm, and so perfectly familiar that you could’ve cried. But Bradley was already cradling your cheek, already drawing you close and leaning in to meet you halfway. You raised your other hand, cupping the side of his neck as your lips met for the first time. Your eyes closed as you savored the tender slip and press of his kiss. The mustache was a little bristly, but hardly as intrusive as you thought it may be. The slight tickle of it made you smile. 

Bradley drew back, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then your jaw before he pressed his face into your neck. 

“Goddamn,” He mumbled, voice rumbling against your skin. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time.” 

“You have?” You asked, sliding your hand up into his hair. 

“Longer than I should’ve been.” 

You bit your lip, resting your head against his. 

“If it makes you feel any better, so have I.” 

He pressed a sweet kiss to the crook of your neck before sweeping his lips over your neck and jaw, up to your ear.

“It does.”

You shivered at the caress of his breath. You turned your head shyly, nuzzling the tip of his nose with yours before tipping your chin up, giving him another gentle kiss. Bradley sighed into you, his grip in your hand tightening as you shifted closer to him. You hummed softly as he leaned back, resting his forehead against yours, chasing his lips for another peck.

“Before I completely monopolize your time, is there anything else that you planned on doing tonight?” You asked. Bradley chuckled, shaking his head.

“I did want to do one thing.”

You tried not to let your disappointment show as you, just nodded.

“What’s that?”

“See how combative you are when you wake up.”

You grinned wide, raising your hand and curling it in his collar, drawing him closer.

“Just you wait, mister.”

Taglist: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ;  @paintballkid711 ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight; @recklessworry ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage​​​ ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @nolanell ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa​ ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices​ ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce

[tgmsunmontue]

WHAT TO WRITE WEEKEND

(27th - 29th September)

THIS IS AN OPEN CASTING CALL. All numbers and letters are free game. Have at it. 1, 2, A through to T - give me up to three (3) and I'll give you a minimum of 250 words on each. Tracking words here.

WRITING GOALS:

To post a minimum of three things. ANY three things. Some things might be short and sweet. Others longer.

Sagas of Solitude 13/21 - IceMav with side Hangster AU - angsty Nepo!Baby (Last updated 22nd September)

Season to Taste 21/? Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin (Last updated 26th September)

A) Upon which our souls touch - 6/? - Hangster Fantasy AU (Last updated 7th September)

B) Never knew I was missing you - 1/? - Hangster AU with Jake a naval aviator and Bradley and A-list Hollywood star. They meet on a dating app. Famous and cat fishing that isn't cat fishing because online relationships are rife but...? (Tumblr idea) (Last updated 21st September)

C) To wake, perchance to dream - 4/? - Jake wakes up in the future, gets a glimpse of what their life could be and then wakes up back right before being called back to Top Gun for the special detachment (e.g. TGM). (Tumblr post and the beginning of the fic) (Last updated 1st September)

D) IceMav with unknown about children because the US Navy is evil and produced offspring because of genetics being a THING. (Tumblr ramblings)

E) Cyclone/Maverick - Cyclone is struggling to deal with being attracted to the most annoying person he's ever met. Why does he like him so much?

F) Olympic AU - Jake and Javy are the Flyboys, a synchronised diving pair. Bradley is a gymnast.

G) Party of 5 AU - Jake raising his younger siblings and trying to run the family business and grieve the life he had started to build at College.

H) From the top 2/? - an Ice/Mav epistolary fic where Jake and Bradley matchmake them, not realising exactly who it is they've matched together. AU divergent ish. (Last updated 23rd July)

I) Bradley runs away and joins the circus. Tumblr ramblings.

J) Barista Jake? Fleshing this out into a proper length fic? (HERE)

K) Caring, Keeping and Collecting Transformers - A Guide - 8/?Transformers cross-over for help me @yeagrave is 110% to blame for me adding this... (related to this post) (Last updated 13th September)

L) Hangster Sports Team AU with Hangster being ex-es and the trade deadline coming in hot and Bradley being traded in and all hell is about to break loose... Ramblings

M) Practical Magic AU (Tumblr ramblings)

N) Two guys in the mines hooking up... (Madness)

O) Long-distance/Zoom D&D players. (Madness)

P) Rooster is a shapeshifter trapped in his animal form? Crackity crack crack. (Madness)

Q) EMPTY SLOT 😱 OR IS IT???

R) IceMav Bingo of the Florist and Undercover agent variety.

S) Jake leaves Bradley at the alter and everyone is heartbroken. Including me.

T) Bradley a mechanic and Jake still an aviator. Hopefully a short little ficlet which is actually short. (Tumblr prompt/idea)

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

i love thinking about apollos anatolian origins 😵‍💫

It stews in the back of my head too :3

There was this really good podcast on Spotify I found about Ancient Greece, and I listened to his Apollo episode first (because I honestly can't stomach the ones who paint him as 'terrible assaulter'/'epitome of the patriarchy'. Can't stand it. Seriously, there was this so-called 'feminist' mythology podcast i found and I Noped out of there as fast as I could - she didn't even mention Eros's involvement in the Daphne myth! She immediately went 'Apollo: the man who doesn't know the meaning of No' and I was like I'M OUTTA HERE.)

(It's very hard to find good Apollo content out there when you have educated yourself on what he's actually like :( )

(At least you immediately know those people didn't do their research shrug)

Thankfully, this one had a really good, really in-depth discussion about Apollo; his origins, his domains, his myths, ect!

COMPLETELY FREE OF BIAS TOO! HE JUST GIVES YOU THE FACTS, THE SYMBOLISM OF THE MYTHS, HOW THE CULTURE INFLUENCED THEM, ECT!

On my first (and only rn) listen I was like "damn i need to take notes on this sometime" that's how in-depth it is!

Here's the episode link if anybody is interested, btw!

What's cool is that he said that before Apollo came along, oracles and the like weren't as common in Greece - they existed, because Gaea was a thing - however, when he was imported in (possibly also with Leto! She has Anatolian origins too!), oracles became more of a thing as Apollo's popularity skyrocketed!

If you look at the number of Oracles Apollo had, you'd also notice that a lot of them are in Anatolia (Turkey today)!. Didyma, Miletus, Claros, ect ect! I think this just adds to the theory that Apollo's main origins come from Anatolia! When he moved to Greece, oracles came with him!

Which is so cool because in my drafts I currently have a picture of a webchart I made of Apollo's (many) domains, and I narrowed down the ones I think are his Big Ones - and Prophecy is one of them.

Very cool that Prophecy has always been part of him <3

Also, Apollo has many cities he is the patron of in Anatolia - Troy is obvious, but the island of Tenedos was his too (his son Tenes founded the city there), and he was the patron of Miletus (the city where he met Branchus btw for my Branchus fans out there)!

And going to Leto real quick, her migration from Anatolia religion to Greece's is probably represented in the Hymn to Apollo! Sometimes myths about wandering from place to place were meant to symbolize the importation of a god (Aphrodite floating ashore of Cythera, for example), and Leto...well, she was doing a lot more than the typical wandering in the hymn, but it still fits!

Some versions say she was guided to Delos by wolves from Hyperborea, others say Boreas helped her escape Python, still others claim a rooster was present when she finally was able to give birth and thus became her sacred animal (also she apparently gave birth to Apollo as a wolf? I don't quite remember which version says that but it's something I've heard XD).

Also Delos was very self-conscious about Apollo being born on it because it was afraid he would judge it for not being up to typical island standards XD

Moving to Apaliunas now! He's a Hittite god, but I haven't been able to find out of what :( The main piece of evidence we have of his relation with Apollo is Troy - Apaliunas was the god of Wilusa, who has been found out to be another name for Troy! There was a treaty signed between Wilusa and another city, and the representative of Wilusa's name was commonly translated to "Of Ilios" - and Ilios was another name for Illium, aka Troy.

(Fun fact: The son Apollo had with Ourea was named Ileus, after Troy! They are but a footnote in mythology but I made them Important in my Troy fic XD)

Plus, Apaliunas's name was connected to the Hittite reflex of Apeljōn, which scholars have theorized to be an early form of Apollo's name - remember Apollon? :D

Apollo also has connections to various other deities - the Italian Etruscan god Apulu (Aplu), the Celtic god Grannus, his Egyptian equivalent is Horus and his Phoenician one is Resheph! He's also been identified with Baldur from Norse mythology.

Apollo be wearing that trenchcoat, and he is wearing it well XD