Im Officially Campaigning For This Idea With You Nonny

i’m officially campaigning for this idea with you nonny

OMG PLEASE EMILY GIVE HIM TWINSSSSS AHHHH ofcourseyourethewriterandyoucandowhatwveryouwantmuah ESPECIALLY GIRLS LIKE THEYLL BE HIS PRINCESSES 😩

Daddy would have three Princesses.

✨ reblog this if you want people to send anonymous assumptions about you! ✨

heartbreaking:

girl has sooooooo many ambitions and ideas for projects but can only get 1.5 basic tasks done per day

baby girl is right, a court martialing IS too good for those fuckers!! and dear GOD I NEED CAT AND JAKE TO GET A BREAK NOW 😭 he looked up family friendly restaurants so she could bring jeremiah 🥲 step-daddy jake in the works

Always Ever Only You Part 15 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley had some explaining to do. After the most perfect weekend, you were afraid he was trying to hide information from you again. But Bradley didn't hold back when he told you what happened and what he was concerned about. 

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, smut, mentions of cancer

Length: 4600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Your hands were shaky as you tried to call Bradley. You didn't understand what was going on, and you were pissed off that the first time you were hearing about him being involved with two people who were being court-martialed was through an email. You hated calling him when there was a chance he was in the air, but if that was the case, then his phone should be off.

Just as you were about to tap his contact in your phone, Bickel came rushing into the lab, arms full of folders. "Delete that email," he told you, out of breath. "The one from Yates. You weren't supposed to see it."

You looked up at him as you slid your phone down onto the counter. "Well, I did see it, sir," you whispered. "I don't even know what's going on."

"Neither do I," he responded gently, setting the folders down in a haphazard pile. "But I don't want your login credentials attached to this in any way. Whatever happened should stay out of your hands since your husband was involved with the special detachment. I'll take care of it. Understand?"

You started to nod, and then you said, "But, sir. Why am I getting emails from Admiral Yates?"

Your boss sighed and checked his watch. He looked frantic, and now you were really getting nervous for whatever must have happened during Bradley's deployment. But Bickel's words and the way he smiled kindly at you even though you could tell he was stressed out meant a lot.

"Because if you haven't noticed, you're second in command around here. Maybe not officially. Yet. But I rely on you for a lot of things, and everyone else in the group does, too. And your work is always spot on."

You felt tears prickle behind your eyes, and you had to look away from him as you muttered, "Thank you." But of course your eyes settled back on your computer screen and the email. 

"Delete the email," he repeated, and you knew he wasn't going to say it kindly a third time. So you did as your commanding officer told you to and watched the email soar into your trash can, and from there you deleted it permanently. "I'll take care of it myself so you know it's done correctly. I will pull the comms and verify the coding so you don't have to question whether or not the information being sent over has been properly validated. I don't want you worrying about this right now."

"But you'll need someone else to verify everything with you, sir," you whispered.

He nodded and closed your computer softly. "I'm just on my way to talk to Lieutenant Coleman about it. She's more than competent. She and I can sign off on it and get it ready tonight. You're dismissed for the day."

And that was it. Not another word. He picked up the folders and walked over to where Cat was sitting in front of her computer wearing the expensive headphones that were used to occasionally play back communications and check aircrafts for audio clarity. And Bickel interrupted her. It was kind of an unspoken rule that you didn't interrupt someone who was wearing the state of the art headphones. 

Cat jumped in her seat before giving Bickel her full attention. After a few seconds, her eyes met yours, and then she agreed with whatever he was telling her. You quietly stood and picked up your computer and headed for your office. 

You were the only one in your group with a private office other than Commander Bickel himself. Sure, yours was roughly a quarter of the size of his, and it had a view of the parking lot and a brick wall, but it was yours. And you were his number two. You really wanted to be able to enjoy that fact, but you'd been dismissed. Probably so he could talk about the court-martialing. And you figured that by now, Bradley would be wrapped up in these proceedings as well. 

You shoved all your stuff into your desk drawer and grabbed your keys. This morning had started off so beautifully: making out with your husband followed by an overpriced drink from Starbucks that he made sure was ready for you to pick up. 

When you opened your door to leave, Cat was standing there about to knock. "Yes?" you asked her, feeling like everyone must know what was going on now besides you.

"I just wanted to catch you before you left," she replied slowly. "I read the email from Yates. I promise I'll double and triple check everything even if I'm here all night."

"Thanks," you whispered, hoping you could trust her with this. You felt like somehow Bradley's integrity was tied to that audio.

Cat fiddled with her hands as she said, "It's my job, but you're also my friend." And then she turned on her heel and walked away so quickly, you couldn't really respond if you wanted to.

When you stumbled out of the elevator in the lobby, Jake was right there. "Have you seen Bradley?" you asked him, but he gathered you up in his arms and started to dance and spin you around in front of the main entrance. 

"Sure haven't. He's been locked away with Maverick all afternoon. Phoenix and Bob, too," he replied easily. "But guess who's going out with Cat tonight. Just take one guess, Angel."

"Oh," you gasped as he dipped you. Then you pressed your lips together, afraid to tell him that Cat and Commander Bickel would probably be verifying codes for the next several hours at least. 

He pulled you back to standing as he said, "Hang on, that's my phone." Jake pulled it out of his pocket and read the text message he received. "Shit. Cat cancelled on me."

"Jake-" But you stopped. You knew you shouldn't be talking about the special mission apparently gone wrong, but he looked so disappointed. He'd been wanting to go on an actual date with her for months, not just making out in the rec room. 

When he spoke, his voice was bland and monotone. "She's blaming it on working late. Meanwhile it looks like you're leaving early, so I'm not buying it." Then he laughed sardonically. "I was going to take her to a movie tonight, and then on Friday I was hoping Jeremiah could tag along on another date. I found a kid-friendly restaurant for dinner."

When you reached for his hand, he just shook his head. "Jake. Don't get upset with her, okay?"

He ran his hand through his hair as he walked away. "I need to get back to the hanger. Later, Angel."

You hated today. You wanted answers, and then you wanted to go to bed. And it annoyed you that you still wanted Bradley to read you to sleep from his notebook when he was the one who hadn't given you any details about his deployment, even though you had asked. Multiple times. 

When you pulled your car into the driveway, you realized Bradley wouldn't be home for at least an hour. You wanted to act normal about this and start making dinner or doing something productive, but you were starting to wonder if he was hiding information from you again, just like the sperm test results. And that was enough to make you lose your appetite. You hurried inside, and Tramp followed you to the couch where you sat and took some deep breaths. The realization that you should have just stayed on base and had a discussion with Dr. Genevieve washed over you, and you were afraid you were going to cry.

You wrapped your arms around Tramp and waited, and it actually didn't feel like too much time had passed when you heard the Bronco pull into the driveway. When the front door opened, Bradley looked surprised to see you.

"You're home," he said softly, closing the door behind him. When you just nodded and clung to Tramp, Bradley pressed his lips together. "I take it you heard about the....mishap?"

"Mishap?" you asked, finally scrambling to your feet as Tramp ran to Bradley. "That's what you're calling it? All I know is that I asked you all weekend to tell me about your deployment, but you didn't. And then today I got an email with your name and credentials listed underneath a docket number for two officers who are being court martialed."

Bradley bent to pet Tramp without taking his eyes off yours. "You're right. You did ask me several times, but Sweetheart, the weekend was so perfect. I didn't want to ruin it by talking about work."

You rubbed the heels of your hands against your eyes. "You were gone for eight weeks, Bradley. That's not the same as discussing a regular day at work. And clearly something absolutely insane happened! What are you trying to hide from me now?"

The rosy pink of his cheeks faded away as a look of pure panic filled his handsome features. "Nothing. There's nothing to hide. I just thought we'd talk about it today. I had no idea everything was going to blow up like it did."

You threw your hands up in the air, and you hated how shrill your voice sounded. "Is everything even okay?"

"Yes," he insisted, closing the distance to you and wrapping his arms around your body, enveloping you in his warmth. "Everyone who left the carrier deck made it back to the carrier deck."

Apparently you'd been holding your breath, because you were finally able to let it out. "Good," you whispered, burying your face in his neck. "That email made me feel physically sick."

"I'm sorry, Baby Girl," Bradley rasped next to your ear before kissing your temple. "If I knew everything was going to happen so fast, I would have taken some time out of the weekend to talk about it. But being back home with you and spending time as just us was really the only thing on my agenda."

You didn't stop him when he guided you toward the bedroom and started to unbutton and unzip you out of your uniform. And you let him pull his UVA shirt over your head and guide you into bed. And then you watched him strip down to his underwear before he picked up Tramp and climbed in with you. "Here's what happened," he said, pulling you close.

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

Bradley felt a little awkward detailing what went down in the air with Slayer for you. It was an odd thing to recount it to someone who wasn't an aviator, but you just held him tight and asked questions when you needed clarification. But the way you gasped when Bradley told you he was the spare made him feel somewhat validated. 

"The spare? This Admiral Dean asshole named you the spare?" You went shooting up in the bed, indignation flashing in your eyes as you pointed at him. "You're not the spare! You're the main event. You'd never treat a mission like it was your own little game where other people's lives didn't fucking count for anything!"

Bradley could tell he was blushing as he said, "Nat and Bob were directly in danger when I got called to the catapult." 

Now you were standing on your knees looking straight up furious. "What did you do?!"

He ran his hand along his mustache and whispered, "I just... dealt with it. I don't know. You know I don't like talking about air to air kills. Nat and Bob were leaking fuel to the point where I was convinced they wouldn't even make it out over the water before they had to eject. But Nat managed to land it on deck in spite of full engine failure."

"Full engine failure?!"

"Yes."

"And all of this happened because this Slayer person went way off course to attend his own rodeo or something?"

Bradley laughed in spite of himself. "Yes."

"Right. Right," you said, even though it sounded like you thought it was all very wrong. "And this Slayer child was allowed to be the fucking team leader because of Admiral Dean?"

"Yes."

You just shook your head at him, standing there on your knees with your hands on your hips. "A court-martial is too good for these fuckers," you said, your voice breaking as you lunged for him. 

Bradley caught you in his arms as you burst into tears. "Don't cry. Everyone is fine."

But you were shaking in his arms as you tightened your hold on him. "I could have lost you, Roo... and like, I just know there was at least a small part of you that thought I didn't want this."

He kissed your cheek and whispered, "I knew you loved me. I knew my ring was safe with you. That was enough."

You pulled away from where you'd had your face pressed to the side of his neck. Tears were welling up in your eyes before sliding down your cheeks. "No, that's not enough. I love you more than anything. And you deserve to hear me say that to you."

Bradley gently rolled you onto your back and let his cheek rest on your shoulder as you cried. He wrapped one arm around your middle and tried not to crush you with his weight as you threaded your fingers through his hair. It felt so good, the way you were touching him and crying for him. "I'm right here," he told you, and eventually your breathing evened out. 

"I can't believe spending the weekend in the bathtub with me was more important to you than getting all of that off your chest."

"Spending a weekend in the bathtub with you is more important than literally anything else I can think of," he promised, happy to hear you laugh. "But if we're being honest here, Sweetheart, when I got passed over for the mission and named as the spare instead... I'm having a really hard time coming to terms with the fact that I'm probably on the back end of my career as a pilot."

You were silent for a beat, but when you spoke, your fingers were still soft in his hair. "Who named the teams?"

"Admiral Dean."

"And have we not established that he's a mindless idiot who favors the aviators from Lemoore over everyone else?"

Bradley hadn't really considered that the hit to his ego and career should have been taken with a grain of salt. Perhaps there was something to be said for who was in charge of the mission details. "I'm still the oldest one around, compared to everyone at Top Gun and everyone from Lemoore," he murmured. 

"Older, sure," you whispered. "But you're also more experienced. And more patient. And smarter. And you were able to tolerate being named the spare without throwing a fit. You're not on the back end of your career. Maybe it will take a different shape, but it's not ending."

Without another word, Bradley fell asleep on you while he thought about what flying meant to him, your touch calming him enough to do that without panicking.

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

You were so hungry now that Bradley told you what had happened. Your stomach was starting to growl, and you realized that you hadn't actually started anything for dinner. But Bradley was still dozing on you an hour later, his arm heavy across your belly where you pressed your fingers to the ink of his tattoo. 

He must have been exhausted, dealing with all of this nonsense during his deployment and traveling across so many time zones. And yet he had made you feel so important all weekend, even attempting to make you breakfast. Giving you his undivided attention. Making love to you exactly how you needed it. 

When he eventually started to stir, you felt bad that you didn't have anything ready for him to eat. He looked up at you, slowly easing himself into a push up position above you. "Sorry...how long was I out?" he rasped, grunting as he bent his elbows until his lips met yours.

"More than an hour," you whispered as he kissed you over and over again. "You must be exhausted."

"Nah, I feel great," he promised, climbing out of bed and pulling you with him. "Want me to make you some toast?"

"Please don't. I was thinking of just ordering something since I didn't get anything ready to cook." You briefly thought about Cat and Bickel and wondered if they were still working right now.

"Let's get a pizza," Bradley said, grabbing his phone. "It's easy and Tramp loves when you feed him the crusts."

Later, when you sat down on Bradley's lap with a slice of pizza in your hand, you laughed as Tramp sat on the floor begging. You tore off a piece of the crust for him while Bradley inhaled two slices stacked one on top of the other. You were just about to ask him if he'd read some more of his notebook to you when he reached for a third piece. 

"Was thinking," he said between bites. "How about a bath before bed? And since you let me nap earlier, I could read until you fall asleep?"

You felt like you were on your honeymoon again where everything you did together just made sense. "You read my mind." And there was just something so good about his voice right now. Whether it was him sitting behind you in the tub or fucking you on the bathmat or leading you to the shower to get you cleaned up a second time, his voice in your ear was exactly what you needed. 

"We do some of our best work in the bathroom," he whispered, thrusting into you slowly as your towel unraveled from around you. 

"You say that about every room," you reminded him, letting him spread your legs wider as he nipped at your breasts. 

"Only because it's true, Sweetheart."

You giggled in the shower, because fifteen minutes ago you'd been clean and then he came inside you. But you were yawning non stop by the time you climbed back into bed. You could barely keep your eyes open as Bradley picked up his notebook and opened it to a page you hadn't heard him read yet. 

He wrapped one strong arm around you and cleared his throat. "Promise you won't get upset?" he asked you, holding the notebook just far enough away that you couldn't read it without your contacts or glasses.

"I mean, did you like write something really mean about me?" you asked, squinting. 

"No," he said with a laugh. "But it's a full page about all the shit I do that I hate."

"I won't get mad, but that doesn't mean I have to agree with any of it."

He responded by clearing his throat again and reading.

"I was never planning on being married to someone. That's exhausting, right? Way too much responsibility. What if they decide they hate you and leave one day? Or die of cancer? Or what if I burn in? What are you even supposed to do then? 

In an effort not to turn into either of my parents, I think I just gave up on the idea. My mom's engagement ring took up residence in a cardboard box in a storage unit for almost twenty years. I don't think I thought about it more than a handful of times, only occasionally remembering how pretty it looked when she wore it outside in the sunshine. 

And then I met a woman, and suddenly the fact that I didn't know the exact location of that ring was very unsettling to me. Was it in a box with photos, pushed all the way against the back wall? Was it in a smaller box with my dad's diploma from the Naval Academy? Which box was it in?

These thoughts alternated between being paramount to my very existence and also quite laughable. She wouldn't want to marry me. I'd only known her a few weeks. She was perfect. Beautiful. Funny. Smarter than everyone else. 

I second guessed myself even more than usual. And then the most peculiar thing happened. She accepted the ring right out of the cardboard box, and then she married me. 

But I haven't been good enough. 

And that is a fact that is worse than all my worst fears. It's worse than burning in. It's worse than dying of cancer. It's worse than being left behind. I can't stand the fact that she's too hard on herself because of me. That's fucked up. It makes me feel gross. I don't want a baby more than I want my wife. I just want my wife. I want her right now. I wanted her yesterday. I am going to want her tomorrow. 

But two weeks ago when I made her think I didn't, that was probably the worst thing I've ever done. Because it didn't even occur to me how much I was fucking up. Congratulations, you failed. Stop doing it. Be better. If you even get another chance."

When Bradley turned his head to see if you were still awake, you whispered, "I didn't like that page as much as the others."

"I figured you wouldn't." 

There were a million things you wanted to say to make him feel better. Share the blame for what happened. But he was proving to you that he had nothing to hide, and he was reading back his candid thoughts. And you never wanted him to stop. So you just kissed his neck and said, "Thanks for reading it to me. But now I want you to read my favorite page again." 

He flipped back to find it, and you were asleep after about five words. 

Your alarm for work came too early considering how cozy you felt in bed. If you could live in this moment a little longer, you gladly would. You felt warm and safe, and Bradley's first words of the day made you laugh. "I'll order you another overpriced coffee, but your new French press should be here today."

When you walked into the lab with your iced latte to find that Cat was the only person there, you gave her an awkward, "Good morning."

"Hi," she replied, stifling a yawn. She looked exhausted.

"How late were you here?" you asked her, feeling terrible that you weren't the one to put in all the extra hours. 

She eyed you hesitantly. "Pretty late. Bickel told me I could come in at lunchtime today, but I didn't want to leave you hanging out to dry with the proposals from Annapolis."

"Thanks," you whispered. But then your heart rate picked up a little bit as you thought about what happened to Bradley. You blurted out, "I need to know what was in that audio."

Cat was instantly shaking her head. "You can't listen to it. Bickel said he doesn't want your login credentials anywhere near it. Could be a massive conflict of interest if you handled it in any way."

You looked down at your boots. "What was it like?" 

She was silent for so long, you were afraid she wasn't going to tell you anything. When you turned toward your seat, she said, "It was hard to listen to. Your husband is a good person."

You kept your eyes on your workstation. "He didn't even tell me anything about it until last night."

"He didn't come running home from his deployment and tell you that he's actually a hero? Again? Bickel told me he seems to have a good head on his shoulders."

"No," you whispered, closing your eyes. "He came home and told me we'd talk about it later, because he missed me too much. And then he was good to me all weekend." Good was an understatement. But you did miss your French press.

"You know," Cat replied with a smile in her voice, "it is really hard not to hate you."

You turned to look at her over your shoulder. Maybe she figured you knew about Jake, and maybe she didn't, but you said, "You should reschedule your movie date."

The smile was gone from her face and her voice. "I think yesterday was a wakeup call. And canceling on Jake was probably in my best interest after all. I don't know what I was thinking when-"

"Stop making poor decisions," you snapped. "He found a kid-friendly restaurant, for fuck's sake. What more could you possibly want in a guy?"

"Nothing," she whispered. 

Then you plugged your computer in and said, "Thank you for telling me about the comms. And thank you for staying late. And thank you for not leaving me alone to finish the proposals today. But for the love of god, Cat, reschedule the movie, okay?"

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

Bradley was expecting you to meet him for lunch in the cafeteria. He even managed to secure the table where you and he were sitting the first time he asked you out. Which was just going to be the cherry on top of his plans for the day. 

Mav let him read the official court-martial documentation along with Nat and Bob. And then he had taken the time to write an official statement. And in about a month, he'd have to appear as a witness to what happened. The sad part was, it all seemed very cut and dry since this wasn't the first time Admiral Dean had shown unjust favoritism. Maybe you were on to something about why Bradley had been selected as the spare.

He heard your laugh before he saw you. It was that beautiful, overjoyed sound that was usually reserved just for him. In fact, he heard it last night when he had you underneath him on the bathroom floor, running his mustache along your pristine skin. But right now you had it aimed at his best friend, and he didn't really mind. You were hugging Nat like you were afraid she was going to vanish into thin air, and when you released her, Bradley watched you press a kiss to Bob's cheek before hugging him just as tight. Your cheek was pressed to Bob's chest when you met Bradley's gaze from a few tables away, and you smiled at him. Then you were headed his way.

"I got you a burrito bowl," he said, even though you could plainly see he had two on his tray. And instead of sitting down across from him, you took the chair right next to his and wrapped your hands around his bicep. 

"Roo, do you want to go up to the hot sauce restaurant after work on Friday? Maybe recreate our first date? But instead of me not giving you a handjob on the pier, I totally could."

Bradley's jaw dropped. You somehow read his mind. You took his idea about getting back to basics in your relationship and made it both romantic and also horny enough that he felt a little uncomfortable in his uniform pants. And you had the nerve to sit there and look sweet and innocent as you squeezed a little packet of hot sauce onto your lunch. 

"I was going to suggest the same thing," he rasped softly. "Minus the handjob. But I'm definitely down for the inclusion of the handjob."

You just smiled at him as you took a bite of your lunch, and your hand came to rest on his thigh. This was going to be a long week.

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

Need that first date reenactment to happen. And I love how the notebook has become a bedtime staple for them. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32

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this is me formally declaring i was the one who requested this and i could not have asked for a better result

Kinktober Day 20: Overstimulation + S.Coups

For @gyuwoncheol and 🦁

Rating: M (18+) | WC: 707

Warnings: mention of a safeword, overstimulation, piv sex, creampie

Seungcheol grunts as he pounds into you, one of his hands braced next to your head and the other holding your leg up, keeping you spread open for his moving hips. You’re crying, shaking, writhing beneath him, but he doesn’t stop. Even as your cunt flutters and seizes around him, even as tears roll down your cheeks, even as you beg and plead and whimper, he still doesn’t stop. 

“You asked for this, baby. You asked me to do this to you,” Seungcheol reminds you, his voice rough with pleasure and his thrusts rough with need. 

“I know,” you hiccup. “But it’s so much, Cheollie, it’s too much!”

“You can take it, I know you can, sweetheart,” he soothes, dropping down to his elbow so he can pet your hair before cupping his hand over your head, keeping you from being fucked into the wooden headboard. “And you know what to say if you really need me to stop.”

You whine, pouting underneath him and stubbornly staying silent, which he takes to mean, “Go harder.”

So he does, fucking into you deeper and deeper until the room is filled with the sounds of his hips meeting yours, of his dick pushing through your arousal, of his pleasure and your pleasure-pain. It’s all music to his ears, the most beautiful symphony he’s ever heard, and as he fucks you into the mattress, he decides to add one more sound. 

“You love this, don’t you, you love this fucking cock. Tell me you love this cock, baby.”

“I l-love your c-cock, Cheol,” you stutter weakly, the impact of his thrusts stealing your strength. 

“Yeah you do, honey,” he laughs breathlessly. “You take it like you were made for me.”

His heavy balls slap against your ass with every buck of his hips, your walls hugging his throbbing dick and your wetness splattering all over his thighs as he pumps into you. His rhythm breaks when you lift your other leg up and wrap it around his hip, bringing him closer to you and letting him sink in even deeper. He presses down on the leg he’s holding, tilting your hips up so he can drag the head of his cock over your g-spot and smirking when you yelp at the feeling. 

Your cunt ripples around him, squeezing so tight he can barely move, and he just knows you’re close. He doesn’t have a free hand to get at your clit right now so he just grinds his pubic bone into you, fucking you deep and dirty until your cries reach a fever pitch. A silent scream parts your lips and your eyes roll back into your head as you cum, arousal seeping out of your stretched entrance even with his cock plugging you up. 

It takes everything in him not to break when you’re so fucking tight and hot and wet around him, but he wants you to fall apart just one more time before he gives you everything he has. 

Which is why when your soul returns to your body and your gaze returns to him, he shifts your leg onto his shoulder and brings his hand to your clit. 

“Again.” 

“I can’t, Cheollie, please, I can’t,” you cry, trying to buck away from his touch. He doesn’t let up, keeps swirling his fingers over your swollen, throbbing bundle of nerves as he plunges into you, again and again and again. 

“Yes, you can,” he insists, hauling your other leg over his shoulder and sitting up to put more force behind his hips. Your walls spasm wildly, your eyes clenching closed, and he drives into you one last time before stilling his hips and pinching your clit, pulling you over the edge with him. You cum hard and so does he, his vision going starry as his cock jumps inside of you, painting your pussy white and filling you to the brim. 

After a few minutes, his brain starts producing thoughts and his mouth can form around words again. He pets your hair, lets out a soft laugh, and exhales a teasing, “See? Told you you could.” 

You land a weak smack on his shoulder and promptly fall asleep. 

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