#( ― ✧ PARK BRADLEY / MIRROR

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Hotter Than Texas | Part II

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

A/N: I'm so excited that y'all loved the first part! Thanks for your enthusiasm, you rock <3

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin's baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley's dream girl worst nightmare.

Aka it's a road trip, strap in.

CW: swearing, age gap (10 years)

WC: 2000+

Part I | Masterlist

“I’m getting hungry.”

Bradley glances at the restaurant sign as he passes it on the interstate, suppressing a sigh. He usually skips lunch on long trips so he can arrive at his destination before nightfall. “I’ll get off at the next exit,” he says.

“Will you?” you exclaim excitedly, as though he’s offered to catch and cook your next meal himself.

Bradley chuckles mildly. “Well, I’m not going to let you starve.”

“You’re so sweet,” you reply, and Bradley eyes you with a grin because he’s about eighty percent certain you’re being facetious.

“What’re are you in the mood for?” he asks as he gets on the off-ramp.

“Something greasy and very bad for my heart.”

Bradley lets out a small laugh. What’s bad for his heart is you sitting next to him being all cute for the next twenty hours straight.

He pulls into the lot of a little diner just off the highway and parks his car while you flip down your sun visor to glance at your reflection in the mirror. “How do I look?” you mutter, mostly to yourself.

Bradley tries not to examine you directly and instead just glances in your vicinity. “Better than the truckers, I bet,” he comments, noticing the row of semis at the back of the lot.

You give him an unimpressed look and then push open your door. “I sure hope they have French toast.”

“I thought you wanted something greasy,” Bradley says, walking around the front of the Bronco to join you.

“I want options,” you state, marching forth toward the front doors.

Bradley strides ahead and pulls the door open for you. He can’t say he isn’t looking forward to having a sit-down meal with you, like it’s a date or something. And, as much as he hates to admit it, he’s almost thrilled at the prospect of the other patrons assuming the two of you are a couple.

You walk through the open door and Bradley stalls for a moment, trying to clear his head. He shouldn’t even be thinking about that sort of nonsense. He and Hangman have enough issues without adding Bradley’s crush on his baby sister to the mix. They’ve just begun to mend their bumpy – to say the least – relationship, and Jake would sure as shit not appreciate his colleague developing feelings for his younger sibling.

“You comin’, sugar?” you call from inside.

Bradley, who’s clearly taken too long of a beat, glances at you in a bit of a daze. He’s sure you just called him ‘sugar’ and that has utterly thrown him. He enters after you and gives the hostess a look that he hopes might resemble a polite smile. But his face feels hot and numb at the same time, so he can’t be sure.

…

“I think I’ll get the pancakes,” you muse, flipping through the menu leisurely.

Bradley smiles at you when you’re not looking. “Want to share some things?”

You glance up at him happily. “Can we?”

Bradley chuckles. “Why not? I could go for a pancake. What else should we get?”

Your eyes light up and you instantly refer back to the menu. “Fried pickles.”

Bradley cringes but he’s still amused. “Those’ll go great with the pancakes.”

“I agree,” you respond without a hint of sarcasm. “Chili?” you continue. “Or tacos?”

“Why not both?” Bradley shrugs.

You give him a serious look. “That’s just crazy talk.”

Bradley laughs. “You’re right, what was I thinking?”

“I sort of want some pie, though.”

Bradley closes his menu and leans forward into the table. “I’ve already thought of that,” he mutters under his breath, as though he’s about to divulge a secret. You lean in too, your bright eyes blinking up at him eagerly. “We’ll get one for the road,” he whispers.

You gasp. “You’re a genius!”

Bradley chuckles, leaning back in his seat proudly. “I won’t deny that.”

…

When the server arrives to take your orders, you let Bradley do the talking, but chime in with little requests now and again; onions on the home fries, maple syrup for the bacon, sour cream in the chili. And Bradley can’t help but delight in the fact that, every time you think of something, you tap his hand that's resting on the table, ‘oohing’ with excitement.

Bradley eyes you with a smile once the server departs. “Maple syrup for the bacon?”

You wave a hand at him. “You’ll see.”

Bradley shakes his head with a smirk. “Not on my bacon.”

“Yeah, my brother warned me that you’re a bit of a square.”

Bradley raises his eyebrows and scoffs. “Your brother said what?”

You grin at him mischievously. “Don’t worry, I can make up my own mind.”

“Your brother warned me that you’re a bully,” Bradley replies, his smile only getting wider. “And, coming from Hangman, that’s saying something.”

You let out a peal of laughter so exuberant that several faces turn to look in your direction.

“Don’t worry,” he adds when your laughter partially subsides. “I can make up my own mind.”

“And?” you ask with soaring eyebrows. “Have you?”

Bradley hesitates for a moment and then decides to respond in a cheeky manner to avoid any awkwardness. “Not just yet,” he says with a chuckle.

You reach out and lightly smack his forearm. “Stop!”

“I’m joking,” Bradley concedes, grabbing your hand before you can strike him again. “It’s not like you’ve ever hit me to get your way,” he says pointedly.

You shake your head with a smirk and withdraw your hand.

…

“Everything was delicious,” you gush to the waitress as she clears the table. “We had such a wonderful time!”

“Glad to hear that, dear,” the waitress gives you a smile and then winks at Bradley, as though she’s in on some scheme with him.

Bradley furrows his eyebrows in amusement as she walks away and then digs into his pocket for his wallet. “My treat,” he says when you reach for your purse.

“No way!” you exclaim. “You’re already giving me a ride. The least I could do is feed you.”

“You don’t have to do anything. I’m happy to be your ride.”

“I insist,” you declare.

“I insist harder,” Bradley presses, laying down several bills onto the receipt tray.

You gaze at him pensively and finally slide your wallet back into your purse. “So, you’re stubborn,” you note.

“So, you’re observant,” he remarks.

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Thanks for lunch, Rooster.”

…

Back on the road, you offer Bradley a turn with the radio, muttering something about not wanting to be a bully by hogging the music. He can tell you’ve said it in jest, but he still wants to make sure he hasn’t offended you.

“You know I don’t think you’re a bully, right?” he says, glancing between your face and the road several times.

You eye him playfully. “Well, give it a minute.”

Bradley chuckles. “It’s getting dark,” he notes after a little while. He was hoping to get farther on the first day, but the prospect of maybe spending an extra day with you on the road doesn’t seem nearly as daunting as it might have in the morning. “Want to stop for the night?”

“I can drive if you want,” you offer.

Naturally, Bradley overthinks your response. He wonders if maybe you’ve had enough of him and would prefer to get to Texas as soon as possible. “No, no,” he responds. “I can drive. I just thought you might be tired.”

“From sitting?” you quip.

Bradley gives you a flat look. “It’s been a long day.”

You shrug. “It flew by.”

That sets his mind at ease somewhat. A day doesn’t fly by unless you’re having a good time. “I think we should stop,” he says.

“Alright,” you respond, “let’s stop.”

…

“You two lovebirds want the mountain or city view?” the hotel’s front desk clerk enquires with a beam.

Bradley is about to explain that the two of you will, in fact, require separate rooms because you are the absolute opposite of lovebirds, when you respond with, “Mountain, please.”

The clerk hands you a key and Bradley follows you down the hall mutely, with both of your suitcases in tow. He’s not about to dispute your decision to share a room, despite knowing that it’s exactly what he swore he’d avoid doing the moment he laid eyes on you.

You open the door and enter, holding it open for Bradley so that he can bring in the luggage. He sets it down gingerly by the door and straightens his back to look around. The are two double beds against the wall and a large window with a spectacular view of the Santa Catalina range.

You flop down on one of the beds with a contented sigh. “You know what, darlin’? I am tired.”

Bradley watches you climb further up the bed and rest your head on one of the pillows. He’s used to you calling him all sorts of terms of endearment at this point, but it still warms his heart each and every time you do. “No dinner tonight, sweetheart?” he responds, adopting your speaking style on a trial basis.

You lift your head from the pillow. “Let’s just order in?”

You seem unfazed by the fact that Bradley just called you sweetheart. Meanwhile, he’s nearly thrown up from the anxiety it’s caused him. He resolves not to call you that – or any other overly-friendly name – ever again. “Yeah, we can do that,” he responds casually. “Pizza?”

You nod. “With barbeque chicken.”

“You got it.”

…

“Did you always want to be an aviator?” you ask, taking a bit of pizza while dusting crumbs off the bedspread.

The two of you are sitting cross-legged atop one of the beds with the open pizza box between you. Bradley grabs another slice. “Pretty much.” He doesn’t really want to get into specifics, because that means being vulnerable, a state which Bradley does not much enjoy.

“Interesting.”

“What about you?” he asks. “What are you studying?”

“Math.”

Bradley nearly chokes. For some reason, he expected something less cerebral. “Are you going to be an accountant, or something?” he asks with a smirk.

You frown slightly. “I sure hope not.”

“Well, what do you want to be?”

“A good person,” you respond thoughtfully.

Bradley lowers his pizza and stares at you. “You are a good person,” he says hoarsely.

You shrug. “I have my days.”

“I mean, I don’t know you very well,” Bradley reasons. “But you seem great. Much better than your brother.”

You laugh and lower your gaze. “Aren’t you a sweetheart?” you say warmly.

Bradley can feel his heart pounding like a double bass drum. The only sweetheart in this room is you and he can hardly keep that to himself. To think that you might be doubting your own integrity is affecting Bradley on a near-physical level. “You’re a good person. Anybody who tells you otherwise is an idiot,” he states.

You smile, still looking downward. “Thanks.”

“You don’t need to thank me.”

You place your half-eaten slice of pizza back into the box and fall back into the pillows, sighing dramatically. “I’m stuffed!”

Bradley, who’s just taken his final bite, mutters around the crust in his mouth. “Me too.” He closes the pizza box and picks it up to set it onto the floor by the bed. Then, he moves to the other bed and lies down on his back with a weary exhale.

“Hey, Rooster,” you call from your bed.

“Hmm?”

“Are you a good pilot?”

Bradley turns onto his side to face you. “I think so.”

“My brother said you were just alright,” you say.

Bradley snorts and throws a pillow at you. You laugh and then stuff the pillow in between your knees. “Joke’s on you, I’m keeping this.”

Bradley adjusts his second pillow under his head and mutters, “You’re welcome.”

“Tomorrow you can choose what you want to listen to,” you say.

Bradley chuckles. What he wants to listen to more than anything is probably you.

“Hey, Rooster,” you say quietly.

“Hmm?”

“Is there any pie left?”

Read Part 3

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[roosterforme]

Stateside | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley made a mistake last summer when he left for his deployment without ever asking you out, and then he thought about you a lot when he was gone. He was stateside again for less than a day when the other guys coerced him to help with a fundraiser at the Hard Deck. A friendly wager with the squad might not be the only thing he wins by the end of the night.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, drinking, swears

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more. Banner made by @thedroneranger Written for Pick Your Poison

Bradley had barely been stateside for twenty four hours when he woke up in his bed at noon to an array of texts arriving all at once. Five months on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the Pacific Ocean with nothing much going for him left him surprisingly exhausted. It wasn't that he didn't want to see his friends, he just needed a full day to himself to readjust. 

He groaned and rolled over after glancing at his phone and seeing the words Hard Deck in a message from Jake. He closed his eyes again after tossing his phone aside, but about ten seconds later, he cracked them open again. If there was one thing he had consistently thought about over the course of those five months, it was you. Your bright smile, your perfect laugh, your navy blue tee shirts that said The Hard Deck across the front.

When he reached for his phone and checked the message from Jake, he sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. Maybe this could be an excuse to see you again sooner rather than later.

Hangman: Hey, we need you to come to the Hard Deck tonight. It's the annual charity event, and Bob can't make it. We're short a bartender. And don't try to bitch out of this, Phoenix told me you're home.

Bradley covered his face with his hand and thought long and hard about this. The real bartenders would be there to help which meant there was a chance you'd be one of them. If he volunteered for this, then maybe he'd find himself in close quarters with you for a few hours instead of the other Naval officers he'd been stuck with for months on end. Just the idea of accidentally bumping into you while pouring a beer had him texting Jake back.

Yeah, I'll be there.

Even though he was still pretty tired later in the afternoon, Bradley took a shower and then spent some extra time on his hair before dressing in his lucky shirt. That five month deployment was the reason he didn't ask you out during the summer, and now he was nervous to see you again. He had good intel from Penny that you'd been single the last time he saw you in August, but what if you had a boyfriend now? Or worse, what if you didn't even acknowledge him when you saw him?

He groaned as he looked in the bathroom mirror. Hours, possibly even days... that's how much time he'd had you on his mind while he was away. And for what? A crush on a girl who was probably too young for him? A cute bartender at the Navy hangout who definitely got asked out nightly? Shit. He was a lost cause. 

And now he was going to be late if he didn't leave right away. He grabbed his keys, and headed out to his Bronco which he had missed dearly. So if nothing else, he'd get to cruise around later after the event. But on the ride to the bar, all he could imagine was how you'd look in the passenger seat, smiling at him at every stoplight and singing along to the radio. 

"Fuck," he grunted as he parked next to Jake's truck before heading inside. He let his heart fill with hope as he strolled in to find Penny, Jake, Javy and Reuben behind the bar with two bartenders. But neither of them were you.

"Rooster!" Reuben cheered, and soon he was being clapped on the back and high fived by the guys he hadn't seen in months. It was nice, but he couldn't help but think that his smile would have been more genuine if you were here.

Jake smirked. "So glad you left your perch and joined us."

Bradley laughed as he gave Penny a hug. "Come on, man, I literally just got home."

Penny smiled up at him. "Thanks for filling in. It'll be great." Bradley really wanted to ask her about you, but then Penny patted him on the cheek before turning to reach under the bar top. "This will be a breeze for you guys," she said, handing matching shirts to the four of them. "Just a basic bar menu tonight. No super fancy cocktails. Just beer, wine, some pre-made sangria, and a few different kinds of shots."

Bradley started to unbutton his lucky shirt before pulling the new one on in its place. He smoothed his hand along the front of the blue shirt that said THE HARD DECK FIGHTS CANCER, and he noticed the two bartenders glancing at him. They were both cute but decidedly not what he had been hoping for tonight. 

"Hey," he asked them with a nod. They smiled in response, so he decided to just go ahead and ask them about you.

"She quit a few weeks ago," the first one told him. "After she graduated from law school."

"She moved, too," said the second one. "Left San Diego."

Shit. He was too late after all, nodding in response to them as he pressed his lips together in a firm line. He'd never been any good at this kind of thing, which was why he always fell into casual relationships. What should he have done? Asked you out, gone on a handful of dates and then tried to persuade you to wait five months for him? Just for him to get deployed over and over again? That wouldn't have been fair to you.

But he didn't feel like it was fair to him either, because right now he was having a hard time even remembering exactly how pretty you were and the precise tone of your laughter. Probably for the best. At least he only needed to do this event for a few hours before he could leave and go for a long drive. He swallowed down his disappointment and turned toward the guys who were in the middle of conversation. 

"How about a side wager?" Javy asked, tossing a bottle of vodka up into the air and catching it over and over again. "You know, for the charity?"

"What did you have in mind?" Bradley asked as Penny went to peek outside. "Because I doubt Penny will let us strip for charity again after last year. The two of you scuffed up the bar top," Bradley added, gesturing at Jake as well.

They both started laughing like idiots before Jake said, "Nah, let's give Penny a break this year and just tally up our tips at the end of the night. Whoever donates the least amount of tip money to the charity is the loser."

"Oh, that's a great idea," Javy said as he ate the orange slices and cherries that were meant to garnish the drinks. "What's the punishment for losing?"

Reuben smirked and said, "Loser has to report to the tarmac on Monday in his underwear. Instant push ups from Mav."

"Deal," Jake said.

"Absolutely," Javy agreed.

Three pairs of eyes settled on Bradley, and he slowly said, "Okay." If he strolled out of the locker room in just his underwear and boots on his first day back from a long deployment when he was supposed to sit down with the admirals and Maverick and have a debrief, he'd probably earn a greater punishment than just a few push ups. But it was for the charity, so he'd do it.

But he soon learned he'd made a mistake after Penny called out, "Let's get started," and propped the doors open. The first person through the door was Reuben's wife, followed by Javy's fiancee and Jake's girlfriend. And all of her sorority sisters. 

"Shit," Bradley grunted. "Did you make me come here just so I would lose?"

Javy was handing out pint glasses that they could use as tip cups as he smirked, and Bradley was wondering if there was any way he could actually stuff his discreetly with cash from his own wallet.

"You'll be just fine," Jake drawled as the jukebox came blaring to life. But even the music was mocking him as Slow Ride started to play, and Bradley had people in front of him expecting him to make them drinks. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jake's girlfriend open her purse and start stuffing Jake's tip cup full. "I feel like that's considered cheating," Bradley told her, and she rolled her eyes and smirked before tucking five dollars into his cup as well.

"Don't tip Bradshaw, Sweets," Jake complained. "We made him come here as a buffer!"

"I knew it was a setup!" Bradley groaned as he listened to someone ask him for some wine and some beer. That was easy enough. He knew how to do that. Or at least he thought he did, but then one of the bartenders who had volunteered for the night told him he poured too much wine into the glass.

Then a woman asked him for a green tea shot, and he stared at her blankly. He leaned closer to Javy and asked, "What the hell is in a green tea shot?" 

"I don't know," he replied as he poured two pints at the same time. "But you better figure it out, because your tip cup is still practically empty."

"Shit." He was scrambling to flag down the young bartenders again when he froze. He only caught a glimpse from the corner of his eye, but he knew it was you simply by the way you moved and the color of your hair. And then you sat down in the only empty stool left at the bar and smiled at him, your voice drawing his eyes up to your perfect face. 

"Rooster. You're back."

The little thoughts and fantasies he'd indulged in while deployed had nothing on the real thing, and he knew he was blushing as you smiled and waited for him to respond. But it had been months since he'd been this close to you, and now he was really beating himself up for not trying to make you his sooner. Because if you were his, he could do all the things he wanted to do right now. Like kiss you.

"Rooster," you repeated with hesitation in your eyes, your voice softer, nearly drowned out by the jukebox. 

"They said you quit," he blurted out as he leaned on the bartop, curious as to why you were here tonight. "And that you moved."

Your eyes went a little wider as you nodded, your smile still soft. "I did. You asked about me?"

"Can you make me a green tea shot or not?"

Bradley begrudgingly switched his focus to the woman next to you and sighed. He was about to tell her he didn't even know what that was, or that maybe she should fuck off so he could talk to you, but then you reached out and ran your fingers along the back of his hand. 

Your touch was brief but intentional, and all of the irritation seemed to ease out of his body as his gaze snapped back to yours. "Yeah," you told the other woman as your finger grazed his knuckle one more time. "He can make you a green tea shot."

"I don't even know what's in it," he told you, with a helpless smile, trying to fight the urge to reach for your hand. 

You kind of shrugged as you said, "I do. I'll talk you through it."

Bradley's smile grew which left you giggling as he said, "I'm kind of helpless back here. Nothing like you."

"Well, you can learn from the best," you told him, reaching out to squeeze his wrist before pointing to the many liquor bottles behind him. "Irish whiskey and peach schnapps," you told him, leaning on the bar now, so close that he just couldn't bring himself to turn away from you. 

"Okay," he said, memorizing the exact color of your eyes. "Thanks for doing this."

You bit your lip and smiled up at him, and when Bradley moved just slightly closer, he thought he heard you whimper. Your eyes were full of emotion that reflected his own as you said, "Focus, Rooster. Irish whiskey and peach schnapps."

He nodded once and then finally moved away from you as he scanned the bottles and grabbed the two you told him. "Good," you said, pointing to the mini fridge and saying, "now get the sweet and sour mix. It's in a pink jug. Yeah, you got it. Now you need a half ounce of each."

Bradley listened to you explain how to use the shaker while he gave you another helpless look. "I'm just a simple beer or bourbon drinker," he said as he strained the drink that his customer had been waiting several minutes for into a shot glass.

You laughed and said, "I know you are, and it's kind of endearing that you don't know what you're doing. Now top it off with a splash of Sprite." 

Bradley grabbed the soda gun, pressed the little green button and then looked up at you again. "This is endearing?" he asked, finally sliding the shot to the annoyed woman who unenthusiastically put a dollar in his tip cup and turned away.

"Very," you promised him. "And now I want you to make me a kamikaze shot."

He gave you a bland look, but his heart was pounding. "Are you joking right now?"

Bradley was hyper focused on your lips as you said, "Not at all. You can handle it. It's vodka, triple sec and lime juice. I prefer Finlandia. Impress me, and I'll leave you a nice big tip for the charity."

Then he groaned. He had forgotten about the wager and the other patrons looking for drinks and just all of it. He raked his fingers through his hair. "Thanks, but I'll probably still end up in my underwear at work on Monday morning." 

When he pushed away from the bar again, your eyes dipped down to his jeans before snapping back up. "Underwear?"

"Yeah," he grunted as he reached for the type of vodka you liked best. You told him how much to use, and he dumped it in a shaker. "The guys coerced me into volunteering tonight. I literally just got home from deployment, but here I am... their scapegoat," he said, arms held out at his sides. "They threw out a side bet based on tip money, and next thing I know, all of their wives and girlfriends show up with a bunch of cash."

While he shook your kamikaze shot, he watched you turn first to your right and then to your left, eyeing up the overflowing tip cups in front of Reuben, Javy and Jake. Your lips parted, and you gaped at Bradley, but your eyes looked a little devious now. "You know, all of this makes a lot of sense since the guys made me come tonight."

Bradley carefully poured out your shot and asked, "What do you mean they made you come?" He realized his voice sounded annoyed, but how did they all have your phone number anyway? He'd been standing here thinking about asking you for it, but they were apparently already texting you. 

You accepted the shot and took a small sip to taste it. "They kept messaging me earlier today, saying I absolutely needed to be here tonight. They said it was important I made it to the charity event." Then you tipped your head back, and Bradley was treated to the soft looking expanse of your neck as you swallowed down the rest of the shot he made. When you were done, you set the glass down and licked your lips as you dug some money out of your pocket. "That was delicious."

While you loaded his cup with all the cash in your pocket, Bradley tried to ask you where you lived now. If the guys were bugging you earlier today, you couldn't be that far. But before he could get a word out, you pushed yourself up so you were kneeling on the bar right in front of him, and he looked up at you as you grinned down at him. 

"Don't worry, Rooster," you said as you ran your fingers through his hair. "I got you." Then Bradley was reaching for your hips. He didn't fucking care if the place was packed, he was ready to haul you off to the back hallway and ask you if he could kiss your pretty lips. You beamed at him as his hands met your body, but you just cupped your fingers around your mouth and shouted over the music, "Come get your drinks from Rooster! He knows how to make everything! But kamikazes are his specialty! And he's hot!"

His eyes went wide as you slipped out of his grasp and back onto your stool while an influx of mostly women queued up in front of him. "What did you do?" he asked, trying to mentally process an order for a cosmopolitan while stumbling over you calling him hot.

"I'm helping you not embarrass yourself at work. Keep the vodka out. Grab the Cointreau and a martini glass. We're about to show the guys what's up."

Bradley struggled through drink after drink as quickly as he could, but you never gave up on him. Occasionally you'd slide things out of his way or point out where he could find something he needed, and at some point you grabbed a second pint glass for his overflowing tip money. And all the while, he stole as many glances at you as he could while he worked. 

When Penny eventually walked behind him, patted him on the shoulder and said there was less than an hour left of the event, she also shared a smile with you. But there was no hope. The other guys were already working on their third tip cups each. "I don't think I can make up the deficit," he groaned, pulling up the hem of his shirt and wiping his brow with it. 

"Oh, that's a great idea," you mused, leaning across the bar and pulling his shirt up higher. "Take it off."

He stared at you as you tugged on the fabric. "Take it off?"

You nodded, the moevent exaggerated as you said, "Absolutely. Take your shirt off." As he looked around awkwardly before pulling his shirt over his head, you cupped your hands around your mouth once again and said, "He has six pack abs!"

Now the guys were glaring at him. "So do I!" Reuben complained.

"Don't you dare take your shirt off!" his wife told him, pointing at him in warning. 

Bradley knew his cheeks were flushed, and all he really wanted to do was talk to you and hopefully kiss you. And he really wanted to do all of that with his shirt on, because he felt a bit like a stripper now as you reached for a third tip cup. The cash was filling it up quickly, and he smirked as he thought about Reuben, Jake or Javy in their underwear instead of him. And it was all for a charity after all. 

"Make him use the shaker!" you urged a woman who looked like she was in her seventies and holding a crisp fifty dollar bill. "Make him flex."

Bradley groaned your name which sent you into a fit of laughter, your second empty shot glass still in front of you. "This isn't right," he complained half heartedly as he shook the older woman's Mai Tai with flexed abs and biceps. 

"It is so right," you told him, and he appreciated that you were scoping out the other guys' tip cups instead of looking at him right now. "Keep going. It's going to be so close." And then that fifty ended up in Bradley's cup when he handed over the cocktail, and you said, "Or maybe not!"

"Last call for the fundraiser!" Penny shouted over the crowd, and Bradley almost sighed in relief when the last few people ordered beers and a glass of wine. And then it was all over, and he had a huge amount of cash in front of him along with you. But he didn't care about the tips as much as he did getting to finally talk to you. The fundraiser was technically over, and you were looking at him the same way he was looking at you.

When he took a breath to suggest you and he go for a walk, he felt a hand on his bare back. It was one of the young bartenders who was helping out, and she said, "I can count up your tips for you," with a smile.

"Nope," you said, reaching for his cups yourself and shooting her a glare. "I'll do his. You go help Coyote." You didn't move again until her hand slipped off of his back and she walked away, and then you looked at Bradley and asked, "What are you going to do for me if you win?"

He watched as you quickly sorted the bills into efficient piles as he pulled his shirt back on and leaned against the bar. It had quieted down significantly, and now Penny was taking a few drink orders while everyone else seemed to move to the tables. He felt like he had a moment of privacy with you as he said, "I guess that depends. Apparently you moved away, Sweetheart."

"I did," you confirmed with a smirk as you counted up his twenties. 

"But you came back tonight."

You rolled your eyes, still smiling as you moved to the pile of tens. "I'm not too far away. I took a full time job and moved to Del Mar. The guys told me I needed to be here tonight for a special surprise. They said something I had been missing was returning. So I came down."

Bradley's fingers flexed on the edge of the bartop. "They did?"

You looked a little vulnerable as you stacked the bills in one pile and said, "Eight hundred and seventy one dollars." 

He nodded once and pushed the money aside without really looking at it. "You'd been missing something, Sweetheart?" he pressed gently, heart pounding in his chest. 

You bit your lip as your eyes drifted closed when he rubbed his thumb across your cheek. "I guess I must have asked the guys one time too many if they knew when you'd be back from your deployment."

"Oh," he rasped as you looked at him again. "You missed me?"

"Yes," you whispered. "I was going to ask you out, but then you were just gone. And they told me you were deployed, and I thought I really missed my chance. And I didn't even know if you were single or not, so I-"

Bradley had heard enough, so he kissed you. Just a soft press of his lips to yours, but you practically crawled onto the bar to get closer to him. And it was better than he spent the last five months imagining it might be. He could taste the vodka and lime on your tongue as it met his. Your fingers gently combed through his hair again, and he moaned, "I missed you too, Sweetheart."

Your laughter was soft and sweet as your nose brushed against his, and then he jerked back a few inches as Reuben shouted. "Yo, Rooster! There's time for that later, man! How much tip money did you make?"

"Eight hundred and seventy one," you replied as your fingers trailed down his scarred cheek to rub his mustache before you pecked him on the lips. The three guys groaned in unison, and Bradley watched your face light up in a beautiful smile. 

"This is not why we told you that you had to come tonight!" Jake whined, pointing at you and pouting. "You were supposed to distract him, not help him win! He was just supposed to turn into a bumbling mess and admit he has feelings for you!"

You turned away from Jake, and you asked Bradley, "So, do you have feelings for me?"

He huffed out a laugh before he hopped up to sit on the bar, swung his long legs over to the other side and hopped down again. You jumped from your stool and into his arms when he said, "I thought about you the whole time I was away, Sweetheart. I wanted to ask you out in the summer, but I didn't think it was right to hope you'd wait almost half a year for me to be stateside. For us to be together again."

"Bradley," you moaned. His hands found your hips just like earlier, and this time he pulled you snug against him while your fingers teased through his hair. "If a guy is worth waiting for, then I'd wait forever."

He kissed you again, tasting and nipping the lips that he'd dreamed about. Inhaling all of your sweetness that his mind didn't do justice to when he'd been away. Feeling your smile against his lips for the first time.

"Let me ask you again," you said, pausing between kisses. "Since I clearly helped you win the bet, what are you going to do for me?"

"Anything you want," he said immediately as you started to push him toward the door with a grin. 

"How about we go for a long drive? And we can talk about how the next time you're deployed, your girlfriend will be waiting patiently for you to return?"

Bradley scooped you up, sending you into a fit of laughter as he carried you directly to his Bronco.

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

Bradley was exhausted on Monday to the point where the travel mug of coffee you sent him with did nothing to keep him from yawning out on the tarmac at 8:00. But every yawn ended with him smiling as he thought about how perfect the weekend had been. In the very early hours of Sunday morning, you'd agreed to be his girlfriend. And now he was waiting for the cherry on top of it all.

He didn't have to wait long as he stood between Reuben and Javy, the three of them looking nearly identical in their matching flight suits and boots, standing at attention in front of Maverick. Then Jake came strolling out, and Bradley instantly started laughing. 

Maverick turned, took one look at Hangman in his boxer shorts and combat boots and said, "I don't even want to know what's going on here, I just want five hundred push ups."

Jake's eyes looked like they were going to bug out of his face as everyone else tried their best to hold in their laughter. Bradley took his phone out as discreetly as he could and snapped a picture of Jake panicking on the tarmac before he dropped down onto the ground and started on his punishment. 

"Everyone else to your jets," Mav barked, and Bradley didn't stick around to hear him say it again. Instead he texted you the photo of Jake along with a short message.

Couldn't have pulled it off without your help, Sweetheart.

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

The way I would die of this man just casually started calling me his Sweetheart. I love that he swept the guys to win the bet! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

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[mynameismckenziemae]

I Love You Two

Part 10

(previous part here, next part here)

Bradley Bradshaw x OFC x Jake Seresin

Summary: More firsts with Jake and Bradley.

Warnings: Adults (18+) only! MDNI! Oral (m and f receiving), teasing, dirty talk, ass play, rimming, cum play. (This chapter is 98% smut).

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

“Something wrong Liv?” Bradley leans in to murmur the next morning at brunch.

“Nope,” you whisper the lie, stilling your squirming hips on the uncomfortable wooden chair.

His handprints were still visible on your ass this morning when you looked in the mirror and just like he promised; you remember his lesson every time you sit.

“You sure? Seem to be squirming an awful lot,” he presses a kiss below your ear, “Don’t lie to me again, Liv. I hate being lied to more than I hate being teased.”

“Oh God,” you whimper as your eyes fall closed at the tempting warning, but you decide against it, knowing he wouldn’t go easy on you. “I ache, Ro-sir.”

He inhales sharply and when you open your eyes to meet his, his pupils are blown.

“That’s what I thought. Where does it hurt? Hmm?” His hand on the outside of your thigh makes you jump as he runs up

“My…ass hurts,” your face burns at your admission, “and it’s making my pussy ache.”

“Poor thing,” he coos, running his hand up the inside of your thigh, “want me to make it better?”

“Please,” you sigh, forgetting you’re in public and opening your thighs.

“Mornin’,” the older waitress’s voice has you jumping apart like caught children, but she appears oblivious to your flushed faces as she sets menus in front of you both, “what can I get you to drink?”

“Coffee and water, please,” Bradley replies with a steady voice, but his cheeks are flushed red.

“Me too, thanks,” you agree, face burning too, “oh, same for my boyfriend. He’ll be in any second, he’s just parking.”

Her eyes flick between you and Bradley once, but other than that, she doesn’t let on.

“There he is,” Bradley nods him over.

“Hey, sorry I took so long,” Jake thanks Bradley with a smile when he pulls out his chair for him, “I had to park like 3 blocks away.”

“No problem,” you reply, “coffee and water okay?”

He nods.

“Got it,” the waitress clicks her pen, “I’ll get your drinks and you can head to the buffet whenever.”

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

“So what’s the plan for the rest of the day?” You ask a few minutes later as you cut into your pancake.

Jake shrugs, peeling his banana and taking a bite.

“Roo?” You prompt, looking at him when he doesn’t answer, but his eyes are on Jake.

Jake is completely oblivious to the attention while eating his banana in a non-sexual manner but the flush rising to Bradley’s cheeks tells you he’s definitely thinking something sexual.

“Uh…” Bradley shakes his head as he breaks the trance, “I don’t have anything planned.”

“Mmkay,” you smile to yourself, “I just thought of something I think we’ll all enjoy.”

“What do you have in mind?” Jake asks innocently before putting the phallus-shaped fruit back in his mouth and taking another bite.

Bradley’s thigh jumps under your touch below the cover of the table.

“You’ll see.”

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

Jake turned as red as Bradley had been when you whispered your idea to him on the stairs up to your apartment, but eagerly nodded his agreement.

Bradley quirked his brow when you led him to your bedroom with a smile playing at your lips.

Your fingers slowly unbutton his gaudy Hawaiian shirt you love so much while you kiss him, moaning into his mouth when Jake presses into you from behind, grinding his hips against your ass while he nudges your hair out of the way to drag his lips across your neck.

Once his shirt falls open, your nails drag up the twitching ridges of his abdomen and you smile into the kiss at his sharp inhale when you stop to pinch each nipple then soothing it with your palms.

Jake presses into you further when you trail down Bradley’s jaw, and you shiver between them at the sound of their throaty groans when their lips meet.

Dizzy from the arousal thrumming through your veins at the heat of them surrounding you, the delicious hints of each of their colognes, and the sounds they’re pulling from one another. Unsure how you manage to get Bradley’s jeans undone but soon enough you’re pushing them down.

Jake slides his arm between you, pulling you back into him while his other pushes Bradley back onto the bed.

“Fuck,” Jake breathes into your neck, his cock twitching against your ass, “look at him Liv; Look what we do to him.”

Bradley flushes but gives you a sexy grin as he gets comfortable; your teeth ache with the urge to sink into his flexing bicep as he rests his head back on his arm while his free hand slides down his chiseled chest and over his cock straining against his boxer-briefs.

Jake takes his time with the buttons on the front of your dress, fingers brushing your newly exposed skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps behind before letting it fall from your arms. Your stomach flips at the heat that crosses Bradley’s expression at your lack of undergarments.

You suck in a breath when Jake’s hands each squeeze your still-tender cheeks and turn your head to nip his jaw when he chuckles.

“You won’t be laughing when you’re the one in trouble,” you smile at his sharp inhale.

“No,” Bradley agrees, shamelessly palming himself, “he won’t be.”

Jake chokes before he hides his face in your neck and Bradley grins.

Wearing nothing but a smile of your own, you climb onto the bed and tug at Bradley’s boxer briefs while Jake hurriedly undresses and settles on the other side as you take Bradley’s cock in hand.

“Ready?” You lean forward to brush your lips over Jake’s as you smear the beading precum with your thumb before stroking down to the base.

“Ready for-oh,” Bradley cuts off when Jake’s hand wraps around his cock above yours.

Jake smiles against your lips before pulling back and taking a deep breath. “I’m ready.”

When you release Bradley, Jake slides his hand lower to keep his cock steady as he ducks his head.

“Fuck,” he gasps when Jake doesn’t hesitate to take him into his mouth. Jake moans at the taste of his precum, eyelashes fluttering as Bradley’s hand weaves into his hair. “That’s it- good. Just like that.”

Jake hums at the praise, slowly bobbing his head once he gets used to the weight of Bradley on his tongue.

“God,” Bradley groans, hips trembling to keep from thrusting up into the heat of Jake’s mouth, “I don’t know how many times I’ve jerked off to the thought of you like this…those pretty lips stretched around my cock.”

Jake flushes further, green eyes locking on Bradley’s brown ones as he continues talking.

“Every time you gave me that smirk…” Bradley cuts off with a groan when Jake starts moving his hand in time with his mouth, “or-or when you’d mouth off; all I could think of was pushing you to your knees and shutting you up with my cock.”

Bradley’s words aren’t even directed toward you but still, you shiver.

Jake’s answering moan is downright sinful as he bobs his head faster, his own cock hard against Bradley’s thigh, smearing precum as his hips rut of their own accord.

“Oh, you like that?” Bradley chuckles breathlessly at Jake’s eager nod, “Wish I would’ve known; would’ve done this sooner-fuck, baby.”

Bradley’s hand leaves Jake’s hair to fist the sheets, his head falling back to the pillow with a groan when he gets a little overzealous and gags.

Your hand replaces Bradley’s in Jake’s hair and you give him a reassuring smile when his cheeks flush deeper pink. “It’s okay,” you murmur while your other hand slides up Bradley’s tense thigh.

“Yeah,” Bradley breathes, nodding with his eyes squeezed shut, “it’s okay. Feels so good, Jake. So so good.”

Jake’s own hips jerk at the praise as he watches your hand with rapt attention as he continues working Bradley over with his mouth, bracing himself for the reaction when you cup Bradley’s spit-soaked sack.

“Fuck Liv, just like that,” Bradley sighs, unable to keep from thrusting up from the onslaught of sensations, “I’m almost there.”

“Where do you want him to cum, Jake?” You purr, gently tugging Bradley’s balls to delay his approaching orgasm, ignoring the disgruntled whine it pulls from him. “On your face? On mine? His stomach?”

Jake’s brow furrows as he gives a quick shake of his head, not disrupting the rhythm he’s set.

“No? Hmmm,” you hum, letting your fingertips nudge the sensitive skin just beyond Bradley’s sack, “You want it in your mouth, don’t you?”

Jake just manages to nod his approval before Bradley’s hips still with a rasped, “Fuck!”

Jake whimpers as the hot pulses of spend fill his mouth, eyes rolling back before closing at the salty-bitter taste.

You bite your lip at the way Jake’s throat bobs when he swallows before pulling off and resting his forehead on Bradley’s lower stomach, both still out of breath.

Bradley’s brow pinches before he slowly blinks open his eyes, hand returning to Jake’s hair, weaving through the blond strands and gently tugging so Jake looks at him as he asks, “Baby? Did you cum too?”

You’d thought it had been the hottest thing when Jake came from eating you out shortly after you’d gotten together, but seeing Jake’s release coating Bradley’s leg and his spent cock was sexier yet.

Jake flushes even further as he nods while he clears his throat, “Yeah.”

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Bradley breathes, sitting up abruptly as Jake does the same to meet in the middle for a searing kiss.

Too preoccupied with “helping” Jake, your arousal had just been simmering on the back burner, and you whimper as it boils over at the sight of your boys devouring each other.

Though it was soft, the sound pulls them apart to look at you. Both expressions are heated; Jake’s is softer while Bradley’s is almost predatory.

“We didn’t forget about you, sweetheart,” Bradley murmurs, reaching for your ankle and tugging you towards them so suddenly you gasp.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

“O-okay…okay! Fuck!” Your voice is wrecked as you push Jake and Bradley’s heads away from your still-pulsing clit before they can overstimulate you.

Again.

They’ve been focused on you solely for over an hour, starting with your breasts; the contrast between Jake’s soft sucks and gentle touches with Bradley’s rough pinches and sharp teeth quickly brought you to orgasm.

The sight of them both settling between your thighs next was nearly enough to get you there again.

It was better than you imagined; instead of fighting over you like you’d dreamed, they worked together to bring you off over and over; not letting you recover before starting again.

Until now; when they turned you into a trembling, crying mess that could take no more.

“I-I can’t,” you stutter, wiping the tears that you hadn’t realized fell with the hand that doesn’t feel like yours, “‘t’s too much.”

“Yeah, I think she’s had enough,” Bradley sounds smug as he presses one last kiss to your clit, chuckling at your shaky inhale.

Jake hums in agreement, kissing your quivering inner thigh instead, “Is it my turn now?”

The smile in his voice implies he’s joking, but there’s hope in it too.

“You want my mouth on you too?” You open your heavy lids to watch Bradley ask as he pushes off the bed, eyes hungrily looking over your body then Jake’s, licking his lips as his gaze settles on his ass.

Jake gently brings your leg over his shoulder before turning on his side to look up at him. “Yeah,” he shrugs nonchalantly, “ I mean if you want to.”

Bradley grins as he falls to his knees at the edge of the bed before grabbing Jake’s ankle and tugging like he had done to yours earlier, “Just remember, you asked for it.”

Jake’s brow furrows as Bradley pulls his hips to the edge of the bed before bending his knees instead of letting them rest on the floor.

“Asked for-oh fuck!” Jake gasps, thighs tensing when Bradley ducks his head to blow a stream of hot air over Jake’s hole, “Fuck! I-I didn’t mean that!”

“No?” Bradley asks, quirking a brow when he does it again and Jake trembles, but he pulls back slightly to say, “My bad, I don’t have to.”

“No!” Jake’s hand flies to Bradley’s hair to keep him where he is makes you smile. “Wait! You-I mean you can…if you want.”

“Oh, I want,” Bradley murmurs, kissing Jake’s inner thigh, “but only if you’re sure.”

“Okay,” Jake takes a deep breath and relaxes his thighs, “okay.”

“Tell me to stop and I will,” Bradley says seriously.

When Jake nods, Bradley ducks his head again to tongue the seam of his sac before venturing lower.

Jake’s head falls back to the bed with a whispered, “fuck,” and nearly jumps out of his skin at the first touch of his tongue to his hole.

Bradley‘s eyes shut with a groan when Jake’s hands find his hair and tug.

“How’s it feel?” You ask, sitting up when you notice Jake struggling to watch Bradley but unable to keep his head from falling back.

“So good,” Jake breathes, looking up as you rest his head on your thighs.

You smile, letting one of your hands trail down his chest to gently pinch a nipple. Your eyes flick to his cock jerking in response, dripping precum. “God Jake, look how wet you are.”

Bradley groans into Jake who whimpers at your words before he follows your eyes. He reaches for his cock but Bradley beats him to it, making Jake’s hips jerk up.

“Fuck,” Jake whines, reaching up to play with your breasts but you shake your head as you guide his arms back to the bed.

“Wha-why can’t I touch you?” He pants before biting his lip, breath hitching as he grows close.

“I want to watch Bradley ruin you without any distraction,” you smile at Bradley’s muffled sound of approval as you scrape your nails over Jake’s heaving chest before pinching each nipple, “so just lay here and be our pillow princess.”

Jake keens high in his throat as his pleasure crests, ropes of cum landing in the valley of his abs.

Bradley rises when Jake begins to writhe from overstimulation, cheeks ruddy and eyes wild. “You can be our pillow princess any time,” he breathes as he crawls over Jake while fisting his own cock. “You’re so hot,” he looks at Jake as he licks a line through the release cooling on his stomach before his gaze flicks to yours, “both of you, and you’re both mine.”

You’re not sure if it’s his words or the guttural groan that leaves him as his cum covers Jake’s stomach that makes you shiver.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

A/N: Sorry this took so long to get out. If you don’t follow me, my husband was in a serious accident a few weeks ago and it’s been a whirlwind of uncertainty, lack of sleep, and stress. But he’s home from the hospital and things are getting better.

Anyways, I really hope you liked this chapter.

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I LOVE hearing what you think in the comments/reblogs! Seriously, feedback helps me more than anything.

Tagging:

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@emerald-jade1

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Heavenly Kind of State of Mind - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

summary: Bradley takes you out to thank you for taking care of him when he broke his nose. He didn't expect dinner to turn into something else.

pairing: baseball!Bradley x reader (Angel)

warnings/content: depictions of broken nose, Bradley being a manwh*re, sexual references, fluff, awkward first date.

word count: 2.3k

taglist (also tagging those who were interested in Take One For The Team since it's a similar vibe and explains the lack of updates lol): @avengersfan25, @jessicab1991, @atarmychick007, @b-bradshaw, @nouis-bum, @mamachasesmayhem, @floydsmuse, @kmc1989, @dckweed, @katfanfic, @nerdgirljen, @whatislovevavy, @mrsevans90, @averyhotchner, @yuckosworld, @tgmreader, @allepaula, @lourd-ita, @mariaenchanted @sorchathered, @sarahsmi13s, @hangmansgbaby, @djs8891 @primroseluna @silversprings-mp3 @drxgxnslxyer @gardenavenue @seitmai @unhinged-bitch @mattyskies

Bradley wasn’t the dating type.

At least, that’s what he told himself on the drive over to the San Diego pier. 

As Bradley crossed the bridge from quiet, serene Coronado into the bustling downtown core, he tapped his hand against the steering wheel, nervously drumming the beat to a classic rock song. He pulled up into a parking space, looking around the parking lot for your obnoxious little car with its pink interior that he’d been thinking about since you took him to get his nose checked out. The break had healed nicely, unable to tell that two weeks prior, his nose had met with the fist of a grown man. Bradley sighed as he realized you weren’t here yet, adjusting his sunglasses in his rearview mirror. 

He didn’t date. 

It wasn’t his thing. 

The awkward small talk. The painful silences. The uncomfortable stage where you waited to see how the other person wanted to proceed, all for it to fall apart in the end anyway. He knew dates were just a stop gap to heartbreak. He was the expert, in fact. In the years since his marriage fell apart, he’d skipped dating all-together, resolving himself to one night stands and quick hookups as a means of bypassing the inevitable heartache he’d be faced with if he’d gone the dating route. 

After his marriage, he didn’t know what he wanted. He’d wanted kids, he thought, but then again, kids meant his career got less focus. Kids meant he’d have one of two choices — retire and become a picture-perfect dad, working a normal career and being the doting husband and father he knew he’d want to be, or, stay playing baseball, continue his dedication to his career, and always feel guilty for not being home, fielding the upset accusations of his wife, telling him he was doing it as an escape, running from his responsibilities. 

Being alone gave him freedom. It gave him the ability to further his career and focus his attention on whatever the fuck he wanted. And he liked it that way. 

However, despite his best efforts, he couldn’t stop you from occupy every thought that he had over the past two weeks. Being unable to play didn’t help — doctor’s orders had him benched for two weeks until his nose had healed. 

He’d attended practices, worked out at the gym a few extra times for good measure, and even took a guest spot in the commentator booth for a game over the past fourteen days to keep himself busy, but he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about you. 

Every time he thought he was comfortably distracted, focused on something else, his brain would circle back around, coming back to you each and every time.

It was exhausting.

He tried so hard to push it off. Too hard, in fact. As he sat in his Bronco, hands still drumming on the steering wheel as he listened to the radio, now blaring The Beach Boys through his car, he hummed along to the familiar tune, hoping that it would provide him a little reprieve from the all-encompassing thoughts of you. 

Just as he closed his eyes, letting his imagination take him to the beach, walking across the warm sand, cool waves lapping at his feet as he stepped towards the ocean, he heard a gentle tapping on his window. Snapping back to reality, his eyelids fluttered, eyes opening wide as he spotted you gently tapping your knuckles against the window. 

He turned the car off, pulling the keys out of the ignition and stuffing them into his pocket as he hopped out of the driver’s seat. Your warm, friendly smile was enough to make him weak in the knees and he could barely keep himself together when he saw you standing there in that sweet, pretty little sundress you were wearing. He just hoped that his light-washed denim jeans didn’t betray him and give away how tight they were getting.

“Thanks for inviting me out,” you smiled as you looked at Bradley, hand raised to gesture at his healing nose, “Looks like you healed up nicely, Bradshaw.” 

“Not having baseballs flying at my face for the last two weeks might have helped. Stayed out of bars too, wasn’t about to risk having another drunken baseball fan taking swings at me.”

“You just didn’t want to lose another bar fight, did you?” you teased, pursing your lips as you looked around at the pier. 

“There’s like four different restaurants here, I figured I’d let you take your pick. Reservations aren’t an issue,” Bradley explained calmly, giving his head a gentle nod as he surveyed the parking lot. 

“Wow, you have that much influence here? Aren’t they used to pro-athletes?”

“That’s not what I meant. I made reservations at all four. Just in case.”

“Wow, never had you pegged as a people pleaser, Bradley. I’m impressed.”

“I’m not,” he replied stubbornly, shaking his head. “I just didn’t want to pick something and find out you were deathly allergic to seafood or something. Killing you with a food allergy didn’t seem like an appropriate way to thank you for helping me the other night.”

“You’re right, unexpectedly poisoning me doesn’t sound like a good thank you. You’re in luck though, no food allergies.”

Bradley let out a sigh and looked around again, looking more vulnerable than ever. He looked uncomfortable, nervous even, and you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

“Steak?” You hummed, raising an eyebrow as you tried to break any tension between you. “I could go for steak.”

“Steak works,” he grumbled, nodding his head. He leaned in towards you, his lips just milimeters from your ear as he whispered softly, trying to be as quiet as possible before being spotted. 

“Photographers are over there, they’re gonna want to snap a few photos of us. Are you ok with that? We can either play it up or downplay it. Up to you. I can always walk in ahead of you if you don’t want the attention.”

You felt your breath hitch in your throat as he whispered into your ear, the hairs on the back of your neck standing at full attention. Craning your neck to look above his shoulder, you spotted a white Escalade with a short, weasel of a man sitting in the front seat, camera poised and ready to capture a shot. Your eyes flitted back to Bradley as you nodded your head. 

“Give them a show,” you nodded, granting him permission to play up the dinner, “Maybe it’ll help stop people from watching you for a reaction now that your ex’s upcoming nuptials are plastered over every glossy magazine there is. I can’t even read Cosmo without seeing her—” 

Bradley grumbled something at you, interrupting your ramble. He took you by the hand and nodded his head, looking back over his shoulder towards the camera before his gaze landed on you once again. Before a word was spoken between the two of you, Bradley’s large hand was on the small of your back, pulling your body in against his. Lips pressed together, you felt your body melt back into his hand. 

Although you’d never admit it to his face, you’d thought about kissing Bradley Bradshaw’s lips over and over and over again since you met him two weeks ago. You’d thought a lot about Bradley, more than you’d care to admit. You thought about those large hands of his, picturing his rough, calloused palms cupping at your tits, feeling their weight as he gently squeezed at them. You’d pictured his lips on your skin, soft and slow, pressing hot kisses over every inch of exposed flesh, unable to keep his hands and mouth off of your body. 

Bradley Bradshaw had you tangled up in a crush that rivalled the ones you’d held in high school. And weirdly — you found yourself refusing to give it up. Since that night you dropped him off to get his nose examined, bloodied and battered and vulnerable in the passenger seat of your car - you’d been completely head over heels for him, whether you liked it or not. 

As Bradley’s calloused hand held yours, enveloping it in his large fingers, his expression softened, lips forming into a gentle smile. The two of you walked hand in hand towards the restaurant, with Bradley giving his name to the hostess as he approached. He gave another glance towards the photographer behind him, furiously snapping photographs from the seat of his car, headlines practically writing themselves in his eyes as he watched Bradley closely.

Bradley didn’t want to admit it, but you agreeing to give the press a little show was helping his career more than anything - appearing to be on a genuine date would help quell the rumours about his long-storied sexual escapades since his highly publicized divorce. 

When his marriage crumbled, he went through a series of bad decisions. His temper was already the stuff of legends in the game, with stories about locker room fights and fines for unsportsmanlike conduct, but those rumours proved true when his life began to fall apart around him. He’d been caught, on more than one occasion, with a pretty blonde in a compromising position with him. Dancing in bars, drunken stumbles in hotel lobbies, walks of shame the following morning. He’d earned the nickname Bradley “Hit-It-And-Quit-It” Bradshaw for crying out loud, and while it wasn’t something he was proud of, it sure wasn’t something he chose to dispute either. 

As Bradley tucked your chair in, he leaned down to whisper in your ear once again, his hand resting gently on your shoulder as he spoke. 

“Let me know if this gets uncomfortable for you,” he nodded slowly.

“Mhmm,” you hummed, shivers running up and down your spine. 

Bradley took the seat across from you, smiling politely at the waitress as she took your drink orders. Moments later, his hand wrapped around his beer glass, raising it to his lips as he took a long sip, the frothy head brushing against his mustache as the liquid passed his lips. He watched as you looked out at the pier, eyes gazing at the sunset over the horizon, the sky painted shades of pink and orange. 

“It’s nice view sitting here, isn’t it?” Bradley nodded in agreement as he spoke. “It’s my favourite. I haven’t come in a while though.”

An awkward silence washed over you both. 

The kind of silence that reminded Bradley why he hated dating.

An uncomfortable pause later, Bradley cleared his throat, nodding his head towards you as he forced an uneasy smile. You looked back at him, sensing his discomfort and wanting to smooth the tension as best as you could, you said the only thing that came to mind as a safe topic of discussion.

“Are you ready for the game tomorrow?” 

“Hmm? Yeah, yeah,” he nodded casually, sipping his drink. “I’m excited to be back on the roster. Did you hear the excuse they came up with for how I broke my nose? PR said a bar brawl wasn’t a good look, so they said I did it during practice.” He scoffed, laughing softly. 

“Practice? What’s the story they came up with?”

“Mhmm, said I missed a rogue line drive, caught it with my nose instead of my glove.”

You shook your head and laughed, cocking a manicured eyebrow up at Bradley as he spoke. Another awkward pause hung in the air as you took a sip from your wine glass. Your eyes drifted back to Bradley, sensing his nerves.

“Alright, enough of this,” you laughed, shaking your head, “Why do they call you Rooster?”

Bradley’s eyes went wide as he set his drink glass down on the table. His dark brown eyebrows raised in surprise as he looked at you. A strained laugh escaped his parted lips, his dark brown curls moving as he shook his head. 

“It’s not exactly dinner conversation,” he said simply.

“What—you’re joking,” you retorted with an incredulous laugh. “There’s no way.”

“‘Fraid so. Rooster Bradshaw. It’s not because I’m up early for practice every day.”

“It’s because you’ve got a big—”

“Not at dinner,” Bradley warned, shaking his head.

“So, the whole, you know,” you frowned slightly as you thought over how to word your inquiry, your voice dropping down to a whisper, “Bradley-hit-it-and-quit-it-Bradshaw thing, that’s connected to it?”

“Unfortunately,” Bradley grumbled, shaking his head, “It’s not something I’m proud of.”

Another awkward moment passed, the clinging of silverware against a dish was the only sound emitted from the two of you as you sat there. Between bites of steak and sips of wine, the odd question would slip out, basic small talk that no one enjoyed on dates, facts about the two of you that weren’t important to anyone. You had to remind yourself at several points that this was never a date - it was never intended to be. It was a thank-you. A half-hearted gesture of kindness from Bradley in exchange for you not running to the papers about his bar-room brawl and his broken nose. A gesture of thanks for not fuelling the already tainted reputation he had for himself. 

Between the breakdown of Bradley’s marriage, his subesquent outbursts that he was prone to devolve into at any time on and off the field, the heated locker room exchanges that got him traded between teams, and the now infamous, and probably over-dramatized accounts of his sexual conquests, his life was falling apart around him. You keeping his broken nose a secret was the first kind-hearted gesture anyone had made towards him in he didn’t know how long. 

All Bradley knew was, despite the clumsy awkwardness, the silences and pauses, the uncomfortable pressure he was putting on himself despite reminding himself it wasn’t a date. Bradley was left wondering. 

Maybe he wished it was. 

[bradshawshawaiianshirt]

Stuck on the Past | Part 3

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Ex-girlfriend!Reader

Summary: You never thought you'd see Bradley Bradshaw again, especially the way things ended between the two of you. So what happens when he's suddenly back for a special mission and is determined to win you back too?

Warnings: Angst (ish), adult language, drinking

Length: 1.6k

Stuck on the Past masterlist

"Who are you texting?" Bradley looked up from his phone to see Nat sitting down across from him. He'd had a bad day, that was for sure. With training for this mission and almost fighting Hangman earlier, he'd come straight to the cafeteria thinking food might help. Instead, he found himself staring at your texts, wondering if he should message to make sure you still wanted to meet, or if you'd turn him down and his day would hit rock bottom.

He looked up as Nat sat on the bench across from him, "No-one."

Nat rolled her eyes, leaning on the table in between them, "Come on, spill it. I need some drama around here that isn't to do with either Hangman or this mission."

Bradley poked at his food, "You're gonna tell me its a bad idea."

Nat smirked, "Can't be worse than other things you've done,"

Bradley chuckled and put his fork down, "I'm going out with my ex-girlfriend tonight. I think."

"Going out with an ex huh?" Nat shrugged, "Not the worst idea. We've all ran back to an ex once or twice."

"It's not like that." He sighed, "We were together a long time, while I was at Top Gun, haven't seen her in a few years now. Back then I really thought... I don't know. She was the only girl I saw myself making a life with, you know? Settling down."

"So, what happened? She dump you?"

"No." Bradley ran a hand through his hair, "I fucked it up. I ran.. but she didn't try to make me stay. Maybe she saw it coming, I don't know. I just knew I'd end up spending so much time away from her, I couldn't.. She deserved more."

"So... what? You want her back?"

Bradley shrugged, "I don't know. We're both in the same city, first time in years..."

Nat grinned, "It's like the universe is giving you a second chance, right?"

"You think I'm crazy?" Bradley chuckled.

"No." Nat stood, ready to leave, "But you want my advice? Don't fuck it up again."

-

You looked at your reflection in the mirror. He would be here any minute, and this was the third outfit you'd tried on. You shook your head, you're acting stupid. This wasn't even a date.. was it? It was just dinner. You could do dinner. Glancing at the mirror again, you started to panic. The dress looked good, but was it too dressy? Shit.

Your phone buzzed from your bed. He's here. The dress would have to do now.

You slipped on your shoes and headed downstairs to the front of your building, where Bradley was waiting, leaning against the side of his bronco. When he saw you coming, he grinned, "You look amazing."

Maybe the dress wasn't such a bad idea.

"Thanks." You looked Bradley up and down. He was in jeans and one of his classic Hawaiian shirts, his aviators hanging on the edge of his nose. "You look good too."

He opened the passenger door of the bronco for you and you climbed in. He reached over you to buckle your seat belt and you felt your stomach flip as you looked up at him. He smiled slightly and shut the door. You couldn't give in. You had to be strong.

Focus on the article.

He climbed into the driver's seat and turned on the engine, pulling away from your street, "You still love Italian food?"

You chuckled, "Are you kidding? I will always be down for pasta. Where are we going?"

Bradley smirked, "You'll see."

After a little while, he was pulling into a parking spot right outside the old Italian restaurant on the corner of the street. You almost couldn't believe it, the memories overwhelming you slightly. This had been your go-to for dates with Bradley back in the day. You looked out of your window and back to Bradley as he parked, opening and closing your mouth, unable to figure out what to say.

He turned off the engine, suddenly looking a little sheepish, "I know it's cheesy taking you here, if you wanna go somewhere else-"

"No." you interjected, "I love it here."

His shoulders relaxed and he began to smile, "Remember that time you were sick so I ordered like, five different meals from here and brought them to your place?."

You giggled, you guys had so much left over pasta that day, it practically fed you for the next week. "I remember." You said, "I also remember you trying to pour me a glass of wine and instead spilling it all down my front."

Bradley began to laugh, "That was so embarrassing! What was that, like, our second date too?"

You started laughing too and Bradley watched you, struggling to hold back his own laughter. You were so magnetic, your laugh so real and genuine, he'd missed it more than he thought.

"Yeah." you giggled, "You know, I never got the stain out of that dress, had to throw it away."

Bradley smiled wide as both of your laughter subsided, "Shame. You looked beautiful that night."

You cheeks burned as you both got out of the car and you felt yourself smiling harder than you had in a while.

Focus on the article.

He placed his hand on the small of your back as you both walked inside. It was a small restaurant, with a few seats by the front window and some further towards the back. The host showed you to your seat, right by the large front window. You'd sat here with Bradley before and you felt yourself wonder if he had requested this table especially. He ordered a bottle of wine for you both to share. If it were a first date, you would have been giddy with infatuation.

But it wasn't a first date, not really.

Once the waitress had poured you each a glass and left you to look at the menu, you decided to make a move. "How's the mission going?" You tried to sound as casual as you could.

Bradley gazed up at you from the menu, "Haven't spoken to Maverick, almost got in a fight with Hangman."

You frowned, putting the menu down, "You got in a fight? Are you okay?"

He chuckled, "Yeah sweetheart, I'm fine."

"So Hangman's still an ass?"

"Oh yeah. You remember him huh?"

You nodded, "I remember how much you used to bitch about him at Top Gun. Seems like he hasn't changed."

"Nope." Bradley looked back at the menu and smirked, "Wanna share their mega pasta? Think we can finish it all this time?"

You chuckled, reliving the memory. The restaurant was known for doing massive portions of any pasta you choose, meant for 4 people to share. Last time you and Bradley had barely made a dent in it.

"Sure." you smiled, leaning across the table, "As long as it's spaghetti bolognaise."

-

When you'd both finished your food, Bradley eating a lot more than he did the last time but still not managing to finish the whole plate, he paid the bill, ignoring your protests. The two of you decided to walk along the beach after that and you felt sparks as your hand brushed his every now and then.

Focus on the article.

"So, uh," you cleared your throat, keeping your eyes trained on the sand beneath your feet, "What's the deal with this mission? Is it dangerous?"

Bradley chuckled, "Why? You worried about me, sweetheart?"

You rolled your eyes, "Bradley."

He shrugged, "All missions are dangerous to some degree." He stopped walking, and you followed his lead, "I had a really good time with you tonight."

You smiled, "I had a good time with you too."

"I was thinking, you never answered my question the other day." You frowned as he continued, "Did you forgive me?"

You let out a puff of air and glanced down at the sand, "I did. After a while."

"Why didn't you ask me to stay?"

You looked up at him, his eyes were glistening in the moonlight, never leaving yours, he looked vulnerable. You shrugged, "You'd been distant for a while. I didn't want to beg you to stay with me and I thought if I did, it might make you run further away."

Bradley sighed, "I regretted it. Leaving you. I always wanted you to know that."

You looked down to the sand, suddenly feeling a lump in your throat. "Everything happens for a reason, right?" You chuckled bitterly.

It had been such a long time since you'd really thought about Bradley and everything that had happened between you. This trip down memory lane suddenly had you feeling overwhelmed with emotion.

Bradley thought back to his conversation with Nat earlier in the day, "I was young and stupid. I never meant to hurt you like I did."

"You're not all to blame. I knew you'd been distant but I never said anything. Maybe if I did, we could have talked about it. Things might not have ended the way they did." You replied, shivering a little as the wind picked up.

Bradley immediately took his Hawaiian shirt off and wrapped it around your shoulders, leaving him in a white undershirt. He pulled you slightly closer to him and you thought your heart might explode. "I don't want to rush things," He said carefully, "but I'd really love to get to know you again. If you'll let me."

You looked up at him. It was on the tip of your tongue to mention the task your boss had given you, to tell Bradley the truth. But looking into his eyes in the dark of the night, his shirt wrapped around you and his fingers gently rubbing circles over your shoulders, you couldn't muster up the courage.

The only thing you could say was, "Yeah. I'd like that."

[greenorangevioletgrass]

fever pitch (b.b.) - part three

previous part | series masterlist

soundtrack: don't blame me - taylor swift pairing: footballer!bradley x popstar!reader synopsis: you and bradley spend the night, but the road to heaven is full of obstacles; some are external, others are self-inflicted. warnings: language, public scrutiny (will be a recurring theme in this fic ha!), bradley is a stand-up guy all round, fluff, smut (d/s elements, praise kink, bit of a bratty side?, fingering, oral [f receiving], dirty talk, size kink, bradley is PACKING, protected sex) notes: i'm back! life has been crazy since i posted the previous chapter, but i just wanna say thank you so so much for your patience and your kind words about the fic so far! big shoutout to @gretagerwigsmuse and @teacupsandtopgun for being absolutely GEMS in brainstorming ideas-- this wouldn't have happened if it weren't for y'all <3 happy reading!

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The Langham, Sterling Suite. Ask for Holly Golightly ;)

Bradley smiles at your text, and the cheeky “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” reference. He shoots up a quick reply as he makes his way out to the lobby, fighting hard not to be grinning like an idiot to any unassuming passersby, until—

Click-click-click-click! FLASH! FLASH! FLASH!

“Hey, it’s Bradley Bradshaw!”

“Oi, Bradley! Give us a smile, mate!”

“Bradley, did you get to meet Y/N inside?”

“Did the boss let you out on a school night, Bradley?”

”How are you feeling about the Sunderland game this weekend?”

It’s a meager distance from the steps of Annabel’s to the curb where the valet has brought out his car, but holy shit. It doesn’t usually get nearly as crazy as this. He’s partied here with Harry Styles, and nobody bat an eye when the guy stumbled out drunk with his left tit out. But maybe it’s because Harry lives in London sometimes, or maybe because he was on a break… unlike Miss Americana on her world tour right now. It makes him pause and rethink how careful he needs to be.

Bradley gets into his car and drives off, trying to tread between the fine line of quick and careful. He can’t help but look over the rearview mirror more often than normal. Fuck, is this how you feel like all the time? He’s no stranger to the spotlight, but rather than the occasional run-ins, nobody has ever been interested in where he went to dinner on a random Tuesday night.

The Langham is barely a mile away, but Bradley sees photographers parked across the hotel with their long-lens cameras and disgusting disposition, and he keeps on driving. Thinking. Restrategizing. Hoping that his vintage aubergine Ferrari isn’t causing suspicion for driving by the second and third time.

He finds a basement parking lot behind the building and pulls up, hoping it’s the right entrance to the hotel. The attendant looks starstruck as he nods and points the way, sending him off with an eager ‘Come on you Gunners!’. And just like that, he makes it into the lobby out of the pap’s sight.

Be cool, he reminds himself, you’re only as suspicious as you seem to be. He comes up to the reception desk, and the girl behind it greets him warmly.

“Good evening, sir. Welcome to the Langham. How may I help you?”

“I’m here to see Ms. Golightly at the Sterling Suite,” Bradley says smoothly. “Holly Golightly.”

“And who am I speaking with, sir?” The girl looks at him like he seems familiar, but can’t quite place him. 

“...Paul Varjak,” he states, unable to bite back the smile. Oh, the thrill of giving out a fake name with the very real possibility of getting called out on his shit. 

But she nods and grabs the telephone, dialing into your room. Blissfully ignorant of the pseudonym he just gave her. 

Good. 

Let this inside joke be the two of yours alone.

The elevator ride up is peaceful—too peaceful that he can hear his heart beating and his palms sweating. Even the carpet mutes his footsteps towards the double door. Before he even presses the bell, a bodyguard opens the door for him.

“Mr. Bradshaw,” he nods curtly. It’s one of the guys from the restaurant earlier. Middle-aged, stout and rather short, sporting a permanent scowl and a vibe that indicates he’s seen some shit.

“Hi. Sorry, I haven’t got your name…?”

“Guy,” he deadpans.

Bradley wonders if that’s his real name or he’s just saying it so Bradley would get off his case, but smiles anyway. “Nice to meet you, Guy.”

Guy hums gruffly and ushers him into the foyer, an identical hallway of the hotel, with a room on each side. “Through here,” he leads him towards another set of double doors at the end of the hallway.

Meanwhile, you are full-on freaking out in your living room. Should you get changed? You’ve taken off your heels, but getting everything off feels so premeditated… You don’t even know if he wants things to go that far. Maybe you can break your little rule and bring out the wine for liquid courage? Gosh, nothing feels right. And it’s been so long since you’ve last done this that you’ve actually gone rusty.

And before you get to decide—in the long, wasteful twenty minutes or so you’ve been pacing, you hear a knock on your door.

“Coming!”

You rush over to get the door and there he is, coming out victorious through the hurdles, smiling at you.

“Thanks, Guy. I’ll take it from here,” you dismiss your security a little too quickly, nodding over Bradley’s shoulder. You’re sure Guy is rolling his eyes all the way back to his room over your lovestruck teenager behavior.

But it hardly matters when this man before you is looking at you like the sun.

“Hey, you.” Bradley beams at you from his spot. As if afraid to invade your space somehow.

And so are you. This feels like that night in the garden all over again. You have to remind yourself that this isn’t some pocket of a park you stumbled into; this is your hotel room. 

Quiet. 

Private. 

Safe.

“Come on in.” You let him cross the threshold, closing the door behind him the warm foyer light cast golden upon his face. You’re not sure if it’s the fact that you’ve ditched your six-inch heels, or that there’s no one else, but Bradley looks even taller than you remember him. Broader. More… imposing.

“I’m sorry for taking so long. There’s cameras everywhere and I had to—”

“It’s okay,” you try to reassure him. It feels rude to ask if he got caught on camera, but at this point, you had to ask. “Did you… Did they…?” 

Bradley quickly shakes his head. “No, I took the basement entrance, out of sight. We’re good.”

”I’m, uh… sorry for the fuss.”

”Hey, it’s no trouble at all… Ms. Golightly,” he tilts his head, grinning at your chosen pseudonym.

”Yeah, it changes every time. My last stop in Tennessee, I was Clarice Starling,” you admit, making him laugh. “Although I’m glad you got the reference… Mr. Varjak.”

He simpers, very proud of himself. And with that, he takes a step closer to you. Towering over you. Crowding you with his smile, his scent, his body heat… and neither of you makes the first touch. You’re painfully aware of how his gaze keeps dropping to your lips. Bodies drawn towards each other but tied in place for some reason. It seems like despite all the flirting you did at the restaurant, everything goes out the window once you’re alone.

You’re just two strangers, caught in a thrilling game of push and pull. Too scared to tip over and just… fall.

“Can I kiss you…?” Bradley breathes out. He feels foolish for asking, but it’s the only way to make sure he’s not ruining the entire evening.

But you sigh in relief and nod your head yes, and it gives you the push you need to close the distance from him. You don’t know which one happened first; touching his lips with yours, grasping his arms for balance, or standing on your tiptoes on his shoes. He keeps you there, his strong hands securing your waist.

“You’re making me feel like a kid…” It makes you giggle into the kiss, and he can’t not possibly fall in love with the sound of that—with the feel of your lips pulled up right against his.

“I don’t think that’s a bad thing…” Bradley runs his hands down your sides gently. “Besides, I’ve been wanting to do that all night.”

“All night? You mean you’ve been thinking about making out with me while I tell you my life story?” you gasp, feigning shock and offense.

He laughs again. “Maybe for a moment or two there, I’ll admit.”

“I thought you were a gentleman!” you give him a playful smack on his behind, and there’s a flash of… something in his eyes. A spark, or a darkening. You’re not sure what it is yet, but it sends butterflies into your stomach yet again.

Bradley tucks some loose strands of your hair behind your ear. “I’m still a gentleman.”

“Really? I don’t believe that…” you sway his hips lightly, “I think you’re very… very bad,” you purr out, your lips barely touching.

He meets you halfway, and it feels like less of a shock this time. You gladly lose yourself in him, knowing you’ve crossed the line now. You finally notice how his mustache scratches your skin in a nice way, how he holds you flush against him, how he just melts into you in the kiss… enshrouding you in his warmth and lighting you on fire at the same time. 

Bradley pulls away, barely just. His forehead is still pressed against yours, your noses are bumping, and his breath melding with yours. He licks his lips and you swear you can almost taste it. “You’re making it really hard for me to be a gentleman, kid…”

You can’t help but chuckle at the nickname. It’s not one you expect, but it sounds right somehow. “I didn’t invite you all the way here to be a gentleman.”

The twinkle in his eyes darken. Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of him. “Is that right?” Bradley’s hands slide down your hips, finding the swell of your ass and giving it a firm squeeze.

The air catches in your throat, and you swallow lightly. “Mm-hm.”

Instead, you lead him into the bedroom. Bradley is right behind you, barely a step behind. His hands have found a home on your hips and he seems adamant to stay there for a moment. Insisting to hold onto you because he worries he’ll get ahead of himself before you’re ready. But gosh, you’ve been ready all night and you’re practically twisting your arms around trying to reach the zipper on the back of your dress.

“Come here, I got you,” he rasps, his heart skipping as he drags the zipper down your back. He’s not sure which one he loves more; the dip of your spine that he wants to trace with your tongue, or the way the dress falls to the floor and reveals what’s underneath that prim and proper pink dress.

A tiny scrap of lace held by a black strap on either side of your hips, framing the swell of your ass perfectly.

And he swears, for a split second, he thought he had died and gone to heaven.

“Fuck…” he breathes out.

You can’t turn around fast enough. It might be a good ‘fuck’, but what if it’s a bad one? “What’s wrong?”

Bradley just blinks at you, for no other reason than how your nipples are poking out the side of the skimpy triangle of your bra. And that your lipstick is smeared on the edges from kissing him.

But of course, your mind is already racing from the lack of response and you’re already thinking, oh no this was a bad idea I shouldn’t have worn this—

“Hey, hey…” he sees your face fall and your arms come up to cover your chest and he immediately steps in. Holding you close, hoping to give you comfort. “Is this all for me?”

Oh, shit. Maybe if you close your eyes tight enough, you would melt to the floor. “I know, it’s a little much—”

“No, that’s not what I asked…” Bradley tilts your chin up, making you look him in the eye. “I said… Did you put these on for me?”

Your breath comes up short, and you nod ever so slightly. You don’t even trust your own voice not to betray how much you want him to like it. How much you want him.

“It’s perfect. I love it. Thank you.” He smiles into your lips, kissing you there. Spelling out how he feels with his hands on your ass, his mouth on yours. “Such a good girl…”

That flips a switch in your brain and he can see it. Your eyes go wide, your posture changes, and all of a sudden, you look so… small in his arms. So vulnerable, so beautiful. So perfect. 

Suddenly, he’s holding the world in his arms. The sexy little thing you call panties is a pesky little nuisance now, and he can’t wait to get it off of you. His broad shoulders are keeping your legs open, his nose nuzzling your pubic bone as he looks up at you.

Bradley lowers you down on the side of the bed, settling on his knees before you. Committing every inch to memory by touch, from your ankle to your knee, up the inside of your thighs. When he reaches the scrap of fabric at your core, he feels it slick. He smirks. “What do we have here?”

Your face heats up. How the fuck are you supposed to answer that? No words are coming to your head—not when he’s drawing patterns over your pussy, making the lace glisten all over. And when your panties are positively ruined, he draws his hand back and licks the offending fingers in earnest.

And all it takes is a taste to send him into a frenzy. 

“Fuck honey, need to taste you…” he murmurs between feverish kisses all over your legs. “Can I?”

You nod fervently, feeling like he’s got you under a spell.

“Use your words, kid.” He grins, playfully biting the inside of your thigh.

The sharp sensation makes you yelp, and you grip his hair in reflex. “Yes, want your mouth on me, please…”

“Good girl, asking so nicely…” he chuckles, satisfied with your response. Then, he pulls you to the edge of the bed. That dainty scrap of lace you call panties is a pesky nuisance now, and he couldn’t wait any longer to get it off of you. With your legs hiked up on his broad shoulders, he dives into you. 

A taste, as it turns out, is an understatement because what Bradley does is devour. 

“Oh, fuck…” you gasp sharply at the contact.

With one hand pinning your thigh open, he laps you up in earnest, figuring out the many ways he can make you squirm. Time ceases to exist because it feels like he makes you come in no time, but also he’s been down there forever. But he goes on and on and on until his name comes out in a desperate chant of lust and need. 

“Bradley Bradley Bradley…” she grinds shamelessly into his mustache now, an unfamiliar but not unwelcome sensation on your part. “Please, I’m gonna…”

“I know, honey. I got you. It’s okay.” It’s an oddly wholesome thing to say in a moment like this, but maybe you’re a hopeless romantic at heart, because sweet nothings get you off.

Your orgasm strikes like a thunderbolt, and you find yourself arching into his mouth. The more you take, the more he gives—or is it the other way around?— It seems like he takes as much pleasure in it as you do. Maybe even more, as he holds onto you as you squirm away overstimulated.

“Bradley… wait.” You grab a handful of his hair, trembling breathlessly.

His mustache glistens when he comes up for air, and he finally (finally!) takes off his suit jacket as he stands up. He eases up on the throttle and lets you breathe for a second. He rolls up his sleeves to his elbows, watching you spread out like a feast for him. Legs open, bra askew, hair fanned out on the pillow… God, he’s so lucky.

When he returns on top of you, you’re eager to pull him by his belt buckle, but he brushes your hand away. You frown in protest. “But I wanna touch you—”

“It’s not your turn yet, honey,” he chides you teasingly.

“You just had your turn!”

He shrugs, nosing your cheek. “Well, it’s still my turn, so…” Bradley closes the gap again and kisses you openly.

The taste of your arousal on his tongue makes you dizzy, but it can’t distract you from the buzz of his fingers rubbing your devoured pussy, sending shivers down your spine. It’s entirely too much, and you keel over from the contact.

“Somebody’s a little sensitive, huh?” He grins, easing the throttle a little.

“Fuck you…”

“Well, if you say so.” He slides his middle finger in.

“Ohhh… Bradley…” you buck up your hips and moan. But in comes another finger, and you swear it feels like all of him. 

He’s wound differently this time, like a man on a mission. With his fingers crooking and stroking your silky walls, beckoning you to come closer, while you grip his shoulders, willing yourself to hold on. But his teeth yanks the edge of your bra to set your nipple free, and his sly tongue finally gets a taste… all resolve goes out the window.

“Come on, honey. I know you got another one in you…” he breathes out, undoing the front clasp of your bra so he can suck your tits with all his might, willing you to come.

And frankly, who are you to say no?

The burst of pleasure hits you from your core to your fingertips. If he wasn’t pinning you down on top of you, you would have probably floated away. But you’re firmly laid on the mattress and feeling everything. Your eyes blink back into focus as you come down from your high.

You pant, staring at him in disbelief. Nobody has ever put that much attention on you in bed before even taking off his clothes. “You got a baseball bat in there or something?”

“Something like that.” He rolls his eyes playfully. Jokingly, you assume.

You take his arm, kissing his wrist, “Can I touch you now?” sticking your tongue out to lick his digits clean of you. Putting on a show as you suck his fingers. “Please?”

He throws his head back and groans. “Fuck.” He can’t resist that doe-eyed look you’re putting on, nor can he resist you undoing his shirt buttons. He can play dominant all he wants, but he knows that the truth of the matter is, he’s all wrapped up around your little finger. “Okay, okay. You win.”

It’s a mess of unbuckling pants, kicking off shoes, and tossing clothes to the floor. Your hand reaches out to trace his gleaming skin, every ridge of his abdomen. You’ve seen the Calvin Klein campaigns and the Men’s Health covers— and gosh, he looks like a dream. But when that thing just springs up to his stomach when he pushes his boxers down…

You didn’t expect him to manifest straight out of your wet dream.

“Holy fuck, you weren’t kidding about your baseball bat,” you breathe out, head tilted as you stare at his thick cock. The vein that runs along the side, the way it curves slightly to the right, the length that makes you clench at the mere thought of it… Fuck, it’s pretty.

Bradley chuckles sheepishly. He knows how big it is, he’s heard all the jokes in the locker room, but hearing it from you hits different. “You scared?”

You should be, a little. But without flinching, you bite your lip and look him in the eye. “Nah, I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”

Gosh, he loves you. He’ll have to remember not to blurt that out too early. “Okay, big girl,” he chuckles, kissing you one last time before rolling off of the bed.

His sudden disappearance out of sight makes you frown. “Where are you—” you prop yourself up on your elbow, seeing him fish out a packet of condom from his trousers pocket, “Right. Safety first.”

Bradley nods, tearing the packet open with his teeth and rolling it on. There’s something so hot about how a man looks just before he fucks someone. “Mm-hm. Gotta make sure we’re both covered.”

“Do I need goggles and a helmet, too?”

He pauses as he straddles your hips. “Maybe next round,” he cheekily quips back. The idea of you wearing nothing but a helmet and safety goggles weirdly makes his cock stir, too. But you’re already lying naked under him, and he doubts that much will deter his hard-on.

Bradley pushes himself into you a little, and your eyes water as you whimper out in a blur of pain and pleasure. And here you thought two of his fingers felt full…

He stops in his tracks, trying to gauge your reaction. He nearly lost his mind over how tightly you’re clenched around him, but he doesn’t want to presume. “Too much?” He asks softly, stroking your cheek. 

Your breaths run ragged as you look up at him, almost in awe. “You’re just… so big…”

He laughs breathlessly. He hates to brag, but it’s true. And as much as he’s enjoying the way you flutter under him, he has to ask, “Want me to pull out?” Please say no, please say no, I don’t think I can handle it…

“N-no…” you wrap your arms and legs around him, clinging to him for dear life. “But I don’t know if it’ll fit.”

Bradley smiles at what has to be the most adorable look he’s ever seen from you. He kisses your forehead in reassurance. “I’ll go nice and slow, okay? I promise.”

Feeling this small and vulnerable so soon after meeting someone would usually set all kinds of alarms in your head. You never know how a guy would take it. But in this moment, nestled in the crook of his neck, among the mix of his perfume and aftershave and his natural musk… all you want to do is stay. “Okay,” you nod softly.

“Let’s try again then, hm?” He kisses your temple and whispers in your ear, “Open up, love.”

With a deep breath, you bite back a whimper as you take him deeper, still not quite all the way in. “Hurts…”

Bradley stops again, his concern fully taking over now. “You sure you want me to keep going…?”

“Yes!” You surprise yourself with how quick and desperate you answered him. Your eyes shut, trying to offset the warmth setting over your cheeks, as you make the dirty admission, “I… I like it when it hurts.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

Bradley has to remind himself not to come on the spot, because holy shit. He wouldn’t go this hard on a woman so early in the game, but… his head is dizzy from how innocently you said it. He takes a breath to pull himself together. “Tell me if it’s too much, alright?”

The air is heavy. The room is silent. You can hear the shift in the tension as you smirk, “Yessir.”

There you are, you little devil. Bradley simply grabs you by the hips and bottoms out inside you. Your face goes slack while your cunt tightens around his cock, and it blows his mind.

He starts out slow, torturously so. Stuffing himself inside your crevice and dragging himself out, willing you to feel every inch. Every ridge. Until your body loosens up and twists around in the throes of passion. Your mouth falls open, your little gasps and moans coming and going as he pleases.

The unhurried pace is nice for a few minutes, when you’re still adjusting to his size. But now that he’s snug inside you, you’re simply aching for more. Your hips arch up into him halfway, a little more urgent, disrupting the rhythm with a pleasant stutter.

He notices this and smiles. “So eager… what’s the rush, hm?”

You answer with a groan. He has a penchant for asking you questions you can’t answer, this man. “You feel so good, baby…” you murmur headily, hands desperately grasping on him—his arms, his shoulders, his back…

”You feel even better.” He nips at your pert nipple, relishing in your angelic little filthy cry. Fuck, he can feel the exact motion of your pussy tightening for him. “I’m not gonna last long if you keep doing that…”

”Then don’t.”

His eyes flicker onto yours immediately. You’re gonna be the death of him, he swears…

You grab his hair by the fistful, keeping his gaze. “I want to feel you come inside me.”

”Oh fuck—” he doesn’t stand a chance. His body reacts faster than his brain could compute, and he holds your hips flush against his as he buries himself as deep as he can. Every twitch of his cock sends you reeling, and your pussy clenches and unwinds in your climax, following him down from his high to yours.

Free falling, hand in hand.

Bradley rolls off of you and you would complain, if it weren’t for the way he immediately pulls you into his chest. Thank fuck. You’re not quite ready to untangle from him yet. Not when your breaths still run a bit ragged, as if accidentally catching each other’s. He presses a kiss to your forehead, and it feels unlike your regular out-of-town hookup. No, this one’s different. But not a word is said between you on that for different reasons— each of you holding your cards close to your chest, as close as you’re holding each other.

[lindssunflower]

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐋 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆, b. bradshaw

♡ ✈︎ authors note: hii! okay so i wrote this first on wattpad. this is my first time ever writing again since middle school (i just started my senior year in high school a few days ago so i’m rusty.) let me know what y’all think! sorry it’s pretty short.

♡ ✈︎ summary: a handsome stranger notices your struggle to parallel park your car outside of a new local coffee shop before your morning shift. he helps of course.

♡ ✈︎ pairing: bradley bradshaw x f!reader

♡ ✈︎ warnings: none!

────୨ৎ────

i should've definitely been taught this in drivers ed, you thought to yourself as you try to maneuver your car into this crowded parking space.

why is there so many people here?! you shout in your mind.

you feel the tears brim your eyes as you hit your hands against the wheel and ultimately decide in your mind to give up. no coffee is worth this amount of trouble.

"you alright ma'am?"

you jolt your head up at the stranger who's standing outside of your passenger window that was rolled down by the many attempts to park your car. the very handsome man, actually.

he's wearing a blue and light green hawaiian tee shirt over a white tank, blue jeans and black aviator sunglasses. he had brown wavy short hair, tanned skin and a really really pretty smile.

yeah he's hot.

the second you thought and realized this; you quickly wipe your eyes from the tears that were beckoning to fall. sat up straight and smiled.

"yes i'm alright." probably said that way to quickly,

"you need any help?" the man places his hands on his hips. probably unknowingly showing off his toned arms.

"it's fine. i was just leaving." this is so embarrassing.

"cmon, you need any help?" he asked the question again. he placed his arms on the door and smiled kindly at you.

is this dangerous? he doesn't look dangerous.

"okay.. okay." you reluctantly agree; but in your defense, when was the last time you saw this handsome of a psychopath? i mean, unless you count anakin skywalker. eh, he's fictional.

"ya want me to teach you outside of the car or would ya mind steppin' out for me?" he had a sort of country accent to him. he tilts his sunglasses down, then landing on the bridge of his nose.

you step out the old honda and make your way around to him. wow he's tall.

he smiles kindly at you and makes his way over to the drivers side. he adjusts the seat to his liking and fixes his mirrors before looking back at you; eyes squinting from the morning sun coming through the sky.

he sets his hands on the wheel "okay, i want you to pay attention alright?" he smiles and pushes his sunglasses back onto his eyes.

you step back as he puts the car in reverse and starts spinning the wheel towards the left, slowing reversing - occasionally looking in the rear-view window.

he stops the car briefly and looks over at you "alright, you see how i'm turnin'?"

you could honestly, barely focus cause there's a very handsome man driving your car. your car you've had since you were 20. your car that's really messy and he's definitely seeing all the discarded empty coffee cups in the floor you haven't cleaned up yet.

you put your hands on your hips and smile (awkwardly) "yea yea i see." you put your hand over your eyes trying to block the morning sun peeking through the clouds.

he reversed the car a little bit to the right and fits perfectly into the spot you were so unsubtlely trying to park in.

he smiles and parks the car "it's really not that difficult when you get the hang of it." he grabs the keys and hope out of your car and walks his way over to where you were standing.

he hands the keys to you and takes the shades off and clips them on the pocket of his hawaiian shirt.

his eyes were a brown greenish shade, in the best and most mesmerizing way. since he was now closer you can take a better look at him since that pesky sun was now covered by his tall frame.

he had these scars on the side of his neck and you wondered where he got those from. he had a few freckles that were on his nose. he gave off an all american vibe by the way he presented himself.

you smile at him "thanks for parking my car." you chuckle.

he smiles.

you felt your face turn red. and when that happens, it's noticeable. dang it.

the man holds out his hand. his hand was calloused and looked like he had to of had a blue collar job. no ring though.

"i'm bradley." you obliged and shook his hand "y/n."

his hand even felt calloused.

you eventually let go of bradley's hand. he let his arms fall to his side and smiled  "they didn't teach ya how to parallel park in drivers ed?"

"no they didn't." you replied feeling a little bit of embarrassment wash over you "can i buy you some coffee?"

the man winks at you "no need. it wasn't any trouble."

that simple wink made your heart do gymnastic level flips. which could probably be told all over your face now.

"please. i mean, you got me out of a pretty annoying situation to be in at 6 in the morning."

he smiled "i'll pay for it, sweetheart. thank you though."

was he flirting? or am i just delusional? the thought swindled your mind.

you smile and click the button your keys to lock the car.

"thanks."

"no problem. it's just parallel parking."

────୨ৎ────

y’all be honest if this is terrible lol constructive criticism is welcome!

[shellbilee]

Hey There Darlin' - Chapter 5

A Glen Powell RPF Series

Apologies for the little hiatus guys. I'm hopeful that I'm back to regular posting, Glen's recent content influx has certainly helped with my inspo! Please comment if you'd like to be tagged! x

Billie

Billie hears a groan of effort and looks back at her phone sitting in the cradle on her dashboard. The metallic sound of dumbbells hitting the floor rings out and suddenly a face fills the screen, familiar brown eyes looking back at her. 

“Alright I’m done with my set now, sorry”.

Billie laughs and shakes her head, looking away from the phone and back at her reflection in her rearview mirror. 

“You’re the one that called me, Brad” Billie counters to her brother, smoothing back the baby hairs near her forehead into her slick ponytail.

Bradley, her brother had facetimed her ten minutes ago, Billie having since pulled into a car park at the address Glen had sent her this morning.

“Yeah, cos’ I feel like we haven’t spoken in ages and I miss my little sis’” Bradley says with a smile before taking a quick sip from his water bottle, “Besides, who else am I gonna speak to at this time? You’re the only one I know that would be awake”.

“Speaking of, why are you doing a workout at----” she pauses, lifting her wrist to check her watch, “Three AM?”. 

Bradley shrugs nonchalantly, as if going to the gym in the early hours of the morning is the most normal thing in the world.

“Just came off a week of night shift. First day sleep routine is always kinda fucked. Couldn’t sleep, so figured I’d come and do a workout rather than wake Jords and the kids”.

“Have you tried reading a book?”.

Bradley pulls a face and Billie can’t help but laugh at it.

“Oh yeah sorry, I forgot you’re allergic to reading” she teases, knowing her fire-fighter brother hated every single second of school and study and she, the book smart one in the family, was the complete opposite.

Bradley rolls his eyes and wipes his face with a sweat towel. “Where are you off to anyway? Gym?”.

Billie looks back at her reflection again - she’s wearing activewear again, this time a pair of tight latte coloured shorts and a white racer back tank whose neckline makes her shoulders look toned.

“I don’t know actually. It’s a date” she says with a soft laugh, looking back down at the facetime call.

Bradley snorts. “A date? Dressed like that?”.

This time it’s Billie’s turn to pull a face.

“He said to wear something I don’t mind sweating in, and to bring a change of clothes”.

Billie swears she can see Bradley’s face morph into older-brother protective mode.

“Don’t mind sweating in? Who is this guy?”.

Billie only smiles. “Just a guy I met at Rufus the other day”.

She stays tight-lipped with the rest of the details - namely, that the guy also happens to be a Hollywood celebrity and is so gorgeous that just looking at him makes her want to melt into a puddle on the floor. Though she and Bradley were close and told each other almost everything, she decided to stay vague about her date. 

Right now, she’s happy being in her exciting first-few-dates bubble. And she isn't ready for it to burst by involving other people. She would tell Bradley later, maybe. 

Bradley starts to ask another question when Billie looks down at her watch, looking back at her phone and interrupting her brother to say she needs to go.

“I’m gonna be late ok? I’ll talk to you later in the week?”

Brad nods, “Yeah yeah, you better. Be safe ok?”

“I always am, Brad. Give my love to Jords and the kids yeah?

“I will. Love you Bil”

“Love you too”.

The call abruptly ends and Billie lets out a deep breath, suddenly aware that her heart is hammering in her chest. She’s nervous, nervous to see Glen again even though she’d seen him less than twenty-four hours ago, though admittedly the last time she’d seen him she’d kissed him without warning.

She can still feel his lips on hers, their plush softness moving against hers in a gentle dance, his scent in her nose, his fingertips on her skin. She’d struggled to think of little else during her bosses housewarming barbecue last night, flashbacks of their kiss invading her every thought as she’d mingled with her work friends.

Billie realizes she’s closed her eyes, opening them a moment later and letting out a breath as she looks out the window at the busy LA street in front of her. She double checks the address on her in-dash car GPS confirming she’s at the right place, before taking a final look at her reflection, grabbing her bag and stepping out of the car.

It’s a sunny Sunday morning in LA, the sunshine instantly blinding as Billie closes her car door behind her, reaching up to shield her eyes and looking at the modern brick building in front of her.

Oh my god. 

It’s the Alo gym.

God, it’s a workout date.

Billie can’t help the breath that escapes her throat then.

Glen really did take her advice about unconventional dates seriously.

Fuck.

Billie sucks in a nervous breath and reaches up to smooth down her hair, making her way towards the entrance and doing her best to ignore the mass of butterflies that have suddenly started flapping wildly in her stomach. She knows it’s nerves, but part of her also knows it’s excitement at the thought of seeing Glen again.

She gulps silently.

Here we go.

--

Glen

Glen’s sitting in the entrance area of the Alo Wellness club, relaxing into one of the sleek, cream coloured lounges. His right leg is bouncing like he needs to go to the bathroom, but he knows it has nothing to do with his bladder.

He looks down at his phone in his hand for what feels like the tenth time in a minute, looking at the numbers above his screensaver of Brisket.

10.02am.

Glen knows he’s nervous, but he doesn’t know why. He’d been on hundreds of dates in the past but for whatever reason this one feels different. 

They’d spent most of yesterday together, talking and laughing for what felt like hours, they’d even kissed yesterday - albeit unconventionally, but still. His stomach is a tangle of nervous thoughts and feelings, and all of a sudden he can’t help but second guess his date idea. 

Billie had said unconventional, but was this taking it too far? Especially so soon?

He’d come up with the idea almost instantly yesterday, calling Keith, his Alo trainer as he’d driven home from his Ikea trip with Billie. Some part of him had decided that a personal training session for the two of them would be a great second date idea, given he and Billie had bonded over their frequent exercise and gym habits.

It ticked all the boxes - it would be an activity she told him she enjoyed, one they both regularly participated in, and it was certainly not a traditional date choice.

It was the kind of activity that he would never even attempt with a lot of girls, let alone on a second date, but with Billie? It seemed like the perfect choice. At least it had when he’d come up with it yesterday.

Glen shakes his head as if he’s arguing with the voice inside his head, ignoring his thoughts and standing firm on his decision. He exhales through pursed lips and flips his phone over in his hand again, looking up when he hears the entrance door open.

In an instant, all of his fears and concerns are gone. 

Billie looks every bit as gorgeous as he remembers, even better if that were possible, his eyes running over her as he watches her ask for directions at the front desk. There’s a smile on his face before he can even think about it, standing up from the lounge just as the receptionist points in his direction.

He feels the breath catch in his throat when Billie’s eyes meet his, and suddenly there’s a smile on her face too - a smile that makes every single muscle in his chest contract.

Glen stays put as she makes her way over to him, unable to help his gaze from following the sway of her hips. She's wearing a pair of light brown coloured shorts and a tight white tank top, both accentuating her fit figure and making her golden skin glow. 

Glen’s fingers tighten around his phone and he fights the urge to bite his fist and audibly groan, suddenly wondering how on earth he's going to get through this date without dying when she looks like that.

“Hey darlin’”.

Billie grins gorgeously. “Hey you”.

Glen steps forward to kiss her cheek just as she does the same, the turn of her head making his lips land dangerously close to her mouth. He sees her cheeks immediately flush as they step apart, and Glen fights the urge to groan out loud again for the second time in thirty seconds. 

Fuck.

If they hadn't been somewhere so public he'd have tipped her chin and pulled her in for a bruising kiss. 

Glen swallows and reaches down to pick up his gym bag, grinning down at Billie.

“So, what do you think?”

Billie tilts her head and smiles, “I see you really were listening when I said unconventional dates”.

Glen laughs. “Told you”.

“So what are we doing?” Billie asks as Glen gestures for her to follow him, heading over to the elevators at the back of the room.

Glen shrugs and presses the ‘up’ button on the wall, looking up when the elevator immediately dings. “You'll find out in a second”.

Billie laughs and flashes a worried smile. “I’m actually kind of terrified”.

He returns her laugh as the doors open and they step into the modern elevator, Glen stepping forward to press the button for level seven. 

“You’ll be fine, I promise”.

The doors close and a moment later they’re going up, Glen struggling to ignore the less than three inches of space between them. That, and the sweet, spicy peach scent of her perfume that’s once again filled his nose, the one that’s plagued his brain since their kiss yesterday, the one that seems to be permanently burnt into his every waking thought for the past twenty-four hours. 

God.

A moment later the elevator dings again and the doors open almost as quickly as they closed, revealing the sprawling, modern black and white gym floor of level seven.

They step out and Glen smiles when he sees Billie look around in awe, spying Keith up ahead standing and talking to Mike, one of the club’s other trainers. Glen nods when Keith sees him, leading Billie over towards him to introduce her.

“Hey bud” Keith says, pulling Glen in for a handshake hug in that way that only men do, Glen stepping back and gesturing to Billie.

“Billie, this is my trainer Keith. Keith, this is Billie”.

They shake hands and Billie smiles, Glen momentarily caught up in how beautiful he thinks she is for the tenth time in only ten minutes.

“Glen’s told me a bit about you. You’re a physical therapist?”

“Yep! I work at Evolution Sports Rehab, on Olympic Boulevard?”

Keith nods, “Ah I know the one. I’ve sent some clients there before actually, to see Ross?”

Billie nods enthusiastically, “Yes! He’s my boss. He’s incredible. He’s a big part of the reason I’ve worked there for so long”.

Glen watches Keith and Billie chat, impressed at the way Billie so effortlessly converses with new people. He smiles to himself as he looks down at her. 

No wonder she’s such a good physical therapist.

Glen takes Billie’s bag off her shoulder and puts their bags aside, returning to stand with her and Keith holding two water bottles in his hands.

“So, what fresh torture have you got for us today?”

Keith laughs and Billie looks mildly terrified, Glen putting his arm around Billie and offering a reassuring squeeze.

“You did say you wanted a bit of a challenge” Keith says pointing at Glen, Billie dropping her head back in dismay, “And you did say that Billie was basically an athlete”.

Billie’s head snaps back up and she looks at Glen in alarm, “An athlete? On what planet?”.

Keith drops his head back and laughs, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding” he says holding his hands up in surrender, “But he did say you work out quite a bit, so I’ve put together a team challenge for you both”.

Keith turns to make his way over to the squat rack, motioning for Billie and Glen to follow. As soon as his back is turned, Billie punches Glen’s arm playfully.

“You have definitely talked me up way too much”

Glen grins as he looks down at her, winking mischievously. “No such thing darlin’”.

Billie grins and rolls her eyes adorably, Glen taking her hand and pulling her until they’re both standing in front of Keith again.

“So, we’re going to do a bit of a circuit challenge. It will be a mix of strength and cardio, but you’ll need to work together to get through it” Keith says, pointing at various equipment around the room. “There will be ten stations, and at each one there will be a rep target which you can divide up between you, so you can sub in and out as you need”.

Glen reaches up to stretch his arms above his head, the corner of his mouth tugging into a sly grin as he looks over at Billie’s wide eyes.

“For example, battle ropes. There will be four hundred reps. Billie you could do one hundred, then Glen does a hundred, and repeat until you get to four hundred. Ideally, the goal is to do the entire circuit in under fifty minutes”.

Billie exhales loudly. “Have you done this exact circuit with people before?”

Keith nods. “The record is forty-six minutes”.

Glen bends his left leg behind him, holding his ankle so he’s stretching out his thigh, glancing down at Billie and back to Keith. He scoffs out loud.

“Forty-six minutes? Easy”.

The look of alarm is back on Billie’s face, though this time she’s looking at Glen like he’s insane. 

Glen can’t help but chuckle at her expression.

“What the hell have I gotten myself into?”

He grins down at her, loving the way she smiles back at him. 

“You said unconventional, remember?”

Billie shakes her head. “I think I’m starting to regret saying that”.

Glen laughs, and they both turn back to Keith.

“So, the key is to know your strengths, and what exercises you’re good or not so good at”.

Billie looks up at Glen, tilting her head playfully.  

“Surely there are no exercise that you’re not good at”.

Glen opens his mouth to speak but Keith beats him to it. “Maybe ask that again when we get to the core exercises”.

Glen pulls a face and both Billie and Keith laugh.

“Alright then” Keith announces, clapping his hands together and looking back at Glen and Billie. “We ready?”

---

Forty-five and a half minutes later, Glen and Billie collapse on the floor on their backs, panting and breathless, and covered in sweat.

Glen feels like his chest is going to explode.

He knows it has nothing to do with the workout he’s just done that has his heart rate hammering at marathon race levels, and everything to do with the stunning, sweaty, sexy girl lying panting next to him right now.

Doing that workout with her was like forty-five and a half minutes of foreplay.  He’d never been so simultaneously impressed and turned on in his life. 

Watching Billie move and jump and squat and press had Glen thinking all kinds of things, things he definitely shouldn’t have been thinking while doing a workout in the gym. He couldn’t help but stare as he did his own exercises, frequently losing count of his own reps, his eyes dragging over her back, her legs, her ass. He was totally enamoured by her, by how strong and fucking sexy she looked, even now as she lay on her back, her chest heaving, breathless from the finishing the fifty burpees they were both determined to get done before the timer ticked over to forty-six minutes.

Glen turns to look over at Billie, his eyes running over her face, her lips parted as she sucks in breaths, her cheeks flushed and covered by a glowy sheen of sweat. He swears she’s never looked more sexy than she has in that moment, and all of a sudden he can’t help but imagine what she'd look like after another kind of cardio that has nothing to do with the gym. 

And nothing to do with clothes.

“That” Billie pauses, sucking in a breath and exhaling loudly, “Was not the way I thought my Sunday would go”

“Probably not the way you thought this date was going to go either” Glen retorts, watching as Billie finally turns to look at him beside her.

She grins at him, that same gorgeous, breathtaking grin, her beautiful eyes sparkling, and it takes everything Glen has not to roll over and kiss her right there in the middle of the gym.

“You guys killed it. Broke the record and everything” Keith says suddenly, standing over the two of them and clapping his hands. “Glen, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you work that hard before. But I guess you had some extra motivation this time”

Glen chuckles and Billie laughs, but it sounds strained through their panting breaths.

“And Billie, that was pretty incredible. You smashed it out of the park, awesome stuff”

“Thanks Keith” Billie breathes, still panting, offering a weak thumbs up before dropping her hand back down to the ground dramatically.

Keith laughs. “You’re welcome”.

They talk for a few more minutes before Keith announces that he has to run to see another client, Keith bending down to shake both of their hands before waving and walking out of the gym. 

Billie sits up and leans back on her hands, her legs still outstretched in front of her. Glen is still lying on his back beside her, dabbing his face with his sweat towel.

“Glen, that was fucked”

Glen tips his head back and laughs, dropping the towel back to the floor. “But you killed it”.

“I think it killed me” Billie replies exasperated, dropping head back and looking up at the ceiling, “I am going to be so sore tomorrow”.

Glen chuckles and moves to sit up from the floor, his sweaty skin sticking to the floor beneath him.

“I really need a shower”.

“That makes two of us” Billie laughs, “But I don’t think I can stand up”.

Glen laughs, letting out a groan of effort as he hauls himself upright and stands. He reaches down for Billie’s hand and pulls her up, unable to stop his eyes from flickering to boobs in the tight white tank she’s wearing.

God.

“I also need food” Billie announces, taking a long sip from her water bottle and smoothing back her sweaty hair,  “I’m suddenly starving”.

Glen nods in agreement. 

“I was going to ask if you wanted to grab a bite after this?” he asks, eyes searching her face as he looks down at her, “If you still have the day free of course”.

Billie’s lips part into a smile, and Glen can’t help the way his own smile grows. 

“My day is totally empty”

“Oh really?” Glen inquires, one eyebrow raised, “Does that mean I can steal you for dinner too?”.

Billie laughs, shrugging her shoulders adorably, “If you don’t get sick of me before then, sure”.

Glen shakes his head and reaches out to touch Billie’s arm, flashing her his most charming grin and loving the way she looks back at him in that moment. 

“I’m not sure that's actually possible Billie”.

Billie smiles, and Glen can’t tell if her cheeks flushing is from their workout or from his comment.

They walk over to their bags, Glen bending and handing Billie hers before bending to pick up his own. 

“Did you want to shower here? Or head home and meet up again?”

Billie shakes her head and holds out her hand, “I brought a change of clothes like you said, I’m happy to shower here. But it’s up to you?”

“No no, here’s good” Glen says, dabbing at his face again with his towel, “You should see the bathrooms here. They're pretty fuckin’ amazing”. 

They walk towards the elevator and step in when the doors open, Billie’s perfume filling his nose as she brushes past. Glen presses the button for level 12, the two standing in comfortable silence as the doors close and they move up the building. 

The elevator dings and the doors open up to the reveal the luxury spa, shower and sauna level, Glen letting Billie step out in front of him.

“The female bathrooms are that way” Glen says, reaching up to run a hand through his sweaty hair, “I’ll meet you back out here?”

Billie nods, looking over in the direction of the bathrooms and back up at Glen with a soft smile.

“See you in a bit”.

---

Billie

This shower is better than the one at Billie’s house. No actually, it's the best shower she's ever used. At the gym of all places. 

It's all dark moody tile and black furnishings, the rainfall shower head providing the most amazing water pressure on her already aching muscles. Not to mention the luxury skin care products that are just free to use.

She’s in shower heaven. 

Or she would be, if Glen was in there with her.

Billie tips her head back and lets the warm water cascade over her, unable to think of little else except Glen. 

The way his muscles had rippled beneath his skin as he’d pulled himself up on the chin up bar, the way his biceps had flexed and moved as he’d picked up each dumbbell. Billie had barely been able to concentrate on her own exercises, not when Glen was looking like that, and certainly not when he was looking at her the way he had been. It was like he wanted to devour her - and if they hadn't been in public, she probably would have let him. 

Right there in the middle of the gym floor.

Their workout has left her feeling all wound up in more ways than one, like forty five minutes of insane heated foreplay without a finish line. If she were at home, she’d probably play with herself. 

She thinks about Glen in the shower, thinking about how badly she wants to have him pressed up naked against her, to feel his thick arms around her frame, his lips on her skin. 

Fuck.

What was this man doing to her?

Forty eight hours of knowing the guy and she's already desperate for him.

She wonders idly if he’s thinking about her the same way she is right now, suddenly remembering that he’s probably waiting for her outside and that she should get on with it. She exhales heavily through her nose and rinses the last of the soap suds from her skin, letting herself enjoy the shower for thirty more seconds before she turns off the tap.

Billie steps out of the shower and dries herself with the fluffiest white towel she’s ever used, changing into a pair of light blue mom jeans and a loose white button up shirt. She looks back at her reflection in the giant mirror of the luxury bathroom, tucking the front of her shirt loosely into the waist of her jeans and buttoning it just enough that it teases just a hint of cleavage.

She reapplies her makeup keeping it glowy and natural, using the gym’s very expensive hair dryer and blow waving her hair just enough that it’s tameable. She pulls her hair back into a loose braid leaving out a few face framing pieces, spritzing her favourite peachy perfume onto her neck and wrists. She steps back and looks over her reflection once more, deciding she’s happy with her look, packing up her things and walking out of the bathroom.

Billie does a double take when she walks out to find Glen sitting waiting for her on one of the cream leather lounges near the elevator, looking somehow even more handsome than he had earlier. 

He’s now dressed in a cream henley shirt and brown trousers, a pair of brown leather boots on his feet. His shirt is unbuttoned just enough that she can see the beginnings of his dark chest hair, his hair still damp from the shower and falling messily but somehow still perfectly.

As if he wasn’t handsome enough just looking like that, Billie feels her breath catch when he looks up and sees her, his lips parting in an utterly gorgeous smile.

Billie tries not to notice the way her body feels as his eyes run over every inch of her, following her hips as she walks towards him.

“You look gorgeous”.

Billie smiles. “See, I was just thinking that about you”.

Glen laughs and stands up in front of her, pressing the button for the elevator and holding open the door for her as they walk in. 

“Were you feeling anything particular for lunch?” he says looking down at her, Billie standing close enough to smell his delicious aftershave and fighting the urge to reply with ‘Besides you?’.

“I’m not fussy”.

Glen nods. “Good, I know just the place”.

---

Glen

“Were you really?” Billie asks, shaking her head in exasperation, “No way, I’ve seen that movie a thousand times, I’d have recognised you”

Glen laughs and nods his head, putting his hand on his heart to emphasize that he’s telling the truth,  “I swear I am. I’m in the stock exchange scene”. 

Billie’s brow furrows, like she’s replaying the scene in her head, and Glen chuckles when she reaches into her purse and pulls out her phone. 

“No way. I have to look this up”.

They’d just had lunch - they’d gotten sandwiches at one of Glen’s favourite spots near the Santa Monica beach. It was a little hole in the wall place with an outdoor courtyard type area at the back, and best of all, it wasn’t too well known about. On this sunny Sunday afternoon, it was the perfect choice.

He and Billie are sitting side by side in a wooden booth together, having just finished their food. They’d been there nearly three hours now, the conversation and laughs between them flowing effortlessly. It’s only been two days, and yet somehow Glen feels like he’s known Billie for months. 

They’d been talking about music choices when they exercised, Billie revealing that she actually liked to listen to movie scores when she ran - namely, superhero movie scores, saying that they made her feel motivated and pumped to keep going. That had brought them to talking about The Dark Knight Rises, at which point Glen had laughed and told her that he was actually in that movie.

He keeps his eyes on her face as she types on her phone, looking over her glowy skin and dark lashes, her full lips that make him want to kiss her for hours.

He hears the beginnings of a video play, the familiar menacing voice of Tom Hardy’s Bane character, watching as Billie’s eyes suddenly light up, her mouth dropping open in surprise.

“Oh my God it is you!” she exclaims adorably, looking up at Glen and then back at her screen still in disbelief, “How have I not noticed that before? How old are you there? You look like a baby”.

Glen laughs and takes a sip of his soda bottle, tapping his fingers against the plastic. 

“Twenty-something---, twenty-four, I think?” he says just as he hears Bane smash his character’s head into a computer.

“You know, I actually got a real concussion during that take. Tom got a bit too into his character and instead of just tapping me on the head like he was supposed to, he actually slammed my head down. Had to go see a medic and everything”

Billie’s eyes widen in shock for the second time, a soft laugh of surprise slipping from her lips. “Oh my god, really?”.

He nods and they both laugh, Glen looking over Billie as she shifts in her seat to better face him.

The afternoon sun is warm and Glen has since shed his jacket, his gaze hidden behind his sleek sunglasses. He takes advantage of that fact, savouring every moment of his eyes on Billie’s available skin, the edge of a pale blue bra peeking out from the dip of her shirt from this new angle.

He tries not to notice the way one of her denim covered thighs is now pressed against his, or the way one side of her white shirt has slipped down to expose her golden collarbone. He finds his imagination wondering what her skin would taste like on his tongue, how it would feel beneath his lips if he kissed along it.

Billie lifts her hand to look down at her watch and back up at Glen.

“You need to go?”. 

“No no, just thinking about Nugget”.

“If you want to go home and check on him it’s okay Billie”

“I want to” she says, her voice trailing off into a pause, “But, I also don’t want to leave”.

Glen smiles back at her, his eyes crinkling behind his sunglasses.

“Well, how about this then?” he asks, reaching up to run his fingers through his now dry hair, “You go home and grab Nugget, and then the two of you come to mine a little later for dinner?”

Billie tilts her head as looks at him, the corner of her mouth tugging into a smile, “Oh that is incredibly tempting”.

He grins and leans in towards her, loving the way her gorgeous hazel eyes are looking back at him. 

“Anything I can do to make it even more so?”

Billie ponders for a moment, her eyes still on his, her tongue sliding out to wet her pink lips.

“Well, for starters, keep smiling at me like that” Billie says, leaning her elbow on the table between them and resting her cheek on her hand, “Do you have any idea how handsome you are? Like, it's almost unfair how attractive you are”.

Glen chuckles softly, the sound rumbling in his throat.

“I’ve been thinking that same thought about you since the moment I met you at Rufus, Billie”.

“Oh really? You think I’m handsome?” Billie teases, a laugh bubbling up in her throat.

Glen only grins, reaching up to brush a loose hair from her face, swearing he sees her suck in a silent breath.

“Actually you know what” Billie breathes, her voice almost a whisper, “I think there is something you can do to tempt me more so”.

Glen raises a curious eyebrow, acutely aware of how close his face now is to hers.

“What’s that darlin?”

Billie exhales quietly, her perfect lips stretching into a soft, sexy smile.

“Kiss me”.

Glen needs no instruction after that.

He tilts Billie’s chin with his finger and angles her face to his, closing his eyes and pressing his lips to hers.

---

Previous Chapter

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[waklman]

Levis

summary: how you and bradley first met. or who knew bradley would find his soulmate sweaty in a parking lot?

warnings: none, but this is a 18+ blog in general.

word count: 1.3k.

something ‘bout you masterlist.

Bradley felt ridiculous. He was supposed to be on his way home—ten minutes ago. 

Instead, he’s ducking behind his Ford Bronco in the supermarket parking lot–drowning in his own sweat from the sweltering afternoon heat, as he eavesdrops on an exchange between two strangers. Bradley imagined that by now, he would’ve been kicking back in his armchair–with a fan blowing in his face and a spoonful of ice cream hanging out his mouth–if only his curiosity didn't get the best of him. 

Maybe this was a sign to stop spending all his free time with Hangman and Coyote. The duo is starting to rub off on him in the worst way possible–Bradley could’ve swore he wasn’t this nosy prior to hanging out with them.

“Look buddy,” you sigh, shifting the paper bags into one arm. “Actually–hold this real quick,” you carelessly demand the stranger–with pursed lips, thrusting your bags of groceries into his chest.

The man stumbles back, groaning at your peculiar strength. Yet you pay him no mind, pulling your aviators up into your hair–already facing your car again. 

Bradley laughs under his breath, watching you use the man as a mule–popping open your trunk, unbothered by the fact that he’s still trying to regain his balance. If he was going to plant himself next to you, why not make use of him? 

When Bradley first came walking out with a tub of rocky road in hand–he didn’t look twice at the scene, strolling right past you two with a clear objective in mind–get home–put on a movie–and rip open the frozen treat, that he’ll pay the price for later. 

But, that was until his ears tuned into the man’s pathetic efforts towards getting your phone number–stopping Bradley right in his tracks. This would make a good topic of conversation for the locker rooms tomorrow. 

You flap your fingers into your palm–still not looking at the man, signaling him to pass your stuff back with the off-handed gesture. 

Bradley smirks behind the hood of his truck, catching sight of the guy’s twitching eye–not believing the way you’re easily commanding him.

The curious pilot wonders how often you had to deal with sleazebags like him—because you’re doing a hell of a job at kicking him down.

Seeing that he’s taking too long to pass back tonight’s dinner ingredients–you start to casually pluck each bag out of his hands, transferring it into your trunk, unconcerned by his offense. 

“So, can I get your number now?” He asks tightly, annoyance leaking into his voice. 

You pause at the question, taking the time to scan the man up and down with raised brows. “If you’re hitting on someone wearing essentially the same outfit as you,” your voice is sweet, despite the harsh punchline you’re beginning to deliver. “Maybe it’s time for some deep reflection,” your lips stretch into a sarcastic smile, causing the man to fully display his irritation with you. 

Technically you weren’t wrong—you both had on a identical white tank top and shorts.

“I’m all for self love,” you raise your hands up in defense. “Maybe, you should try looking in the mirror next time you–” you shamelessly look down at his crotch. “..take care of yourself– it might be eye opening for you.” His mouth parts at the way the explicit suggestion leaves your mouth. 

It takes all of Bradley’s self control to stifle his laughter, not wanting to give himself away from where he’s crouched. 

“You’re fucking weird—holy shit. I’m done,” he scoffs, harshly throwing the last bag into your trunk. 

You feign ignorance, watching him walk backwards–distancing himself from you. “Don’t want my number anymore?” you ask with a pout, pulling out your phone–waving it in the air.

“Fuck No. You’re crazy,” he huffs, jaw stretching in disbelief. 

Your face completely falls–and horror is written all over the man’s face as your flat expression is slowly replaced with a menacing smile.

Just to watch him flinch, you lift your arm–pretending to chuck the device at him. 

The guy immediately breaks into a sprint, startled by your warning–causing Bradley to finally break into laughter. 

Realizing he broke his silence—Bradley stills, putting a pause to his amusement—hoping you didn’t hear him.

“You think he’s ever gonna talk to another woman again?” you ask–back turned to the new stranger, knowing the cute guy you clocked from earlier was currently tucked behind his truck.

Bradley sheepishly smiles, awkwardly standing up at your question—you knew he was there the whole time. “Nope–you got him real good. How does it feel knowing you’re keeping the ladies of the town safe?” he asks amusingly, stuffing a sweaty hand into the front pocket of his shorts. 

In one swift movement, you shut your trunk and turn to face him–sweeping Bradley right off his feet once you make eye contact with him.

You start to laugh at his joke, bringing a hand over your mouth—shyly covering your smile.

Holy shit. No wonder that guy was on your case about getting your number–you’re stunning. 

Bradley realizes he barely put an ounce of his attention onto your face this whole time, too distracted by the way you were tearing down the previous guy. He swallows, not sure if he can keep his composure now that you’re looking right at him. You’re probably the prettiest girl Bradley has ever encountered in his life. It makes him sweat harder at the thought.

“Feels good actually,” you nod, pleased with yourself. “Oh–hey nice shorts,” you call out, pointing a finger at his pants.

Bradley blinks at you, not able to get a single word out. 

“Where’d you get those bad boys?” You follow up with another smile. 

Bradley forces himself to snap out of it, looking down at his Levis and then back up at you. You have on the same pair of shorts as him. 

They’re slung loose on your hips and stretch down to your knees. The frayed hems just slightly sway at the rare summer breeze passing through the parking lot.

He lets out a breath–that he wasn’t even aware that he was holding in the first place, before finally answering you. “Oh–they’re from a thrift shop down by the main road.” 

“You gotta take me there then–maybe we can find another pair of matching shorts?” You offer, heart thumping at your own bravery.

“Sure can,” he nods, kicking the gravel under his feet nervously. “Promise not to throw that phone at me if I come over and ask for your number?” He jokes, hoping he didn’t look too ridiculous from how hard he’s smiling to himself.

“Not unless you share some of that ice cream with me, pretty stranger,” you wave him over, pulling down your sunglasses. “Hey, mind teaching me how you grew that stache? Been trying to get me one of those things,” you tease, brushing two fingers over your upper lip.

Bradley lightly laughs, walking around the front of his truck. “You’ll look like my dad if you do,” he replies, stopping right in front of you. Bradley braces himself, waiting for the gut-wrenching feeling to quickly brush through his heart at the mention of his father, but to his surprise—it never comes. 

“I like your dad already,” you softly answer, handing your phone over to him.

He would definitely like you too, Bradley thinks.

thank you for reading, and as always-reblogs are greatly appreciated!

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[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 55 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley can't get enough of the adrenaline rush that is accompanying his special mission, but he has reached the point where the excitement doesn't outweigh his desire to return home. Every day feels the same for you, until one of them starts to feel much worse.

Warnings: mentions of blood, pregnancy topics, potential pregnancy complications, swearing, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Every day was the same now. Every morning started out with a hopeful feeling in your chest. Your engagement ring was still noticeable on your finger, although you figured that would fade with time as it became a permanent fixture. At first, you woke up to the delicious feeling of being pregnant and engaged to Bradley, but when you rolled over to reach for him, the rest of the bed was cold. The covers were untouched. His pillow was still in the exact same place you left it when you made the bed yesterday.

Tears stung at your eyes. You knew exactly how many days he had been gone, because the updated number was practically all you could think about. The days had become a week. Then two. And now that hopeful feeling was starting to vanish only to be replaced by dread almost immediately after you cracked your eyes open.

You whispered, "I miss you," and climbed out of bed without even looking at the vacant side now. You started to dress in your scrubs without a smile on your face, and then you went into the bathroom which was completely silent. You thought that if you just had an inkling, the barest idea of when Bradley might be returning, you'd feel much better, but you had no clue.

You and Noah had only had one brief conversation with him over the phone. The connection had been pretty bad, and you knew someone was sitting right there with him monitoring every single word. He'd told you that much before his personal phone had been taken away from him the day he arrived. You had to pause as you put toothpaste on your toothbrush, because the tears were going to start if you didn't get yourself under control. 

Bradley had hung up a few post-it notes around the house for you and Noah to find. Most of them were reminders of how much he loved you, but the one on the bathroom mirror took your breath away every time you saw it. It said April 25th with a heart around it. And above that'd, he'd drawn a crown. The fact that you had no idea how much of your pregnancy he was going to miss threw you off every single time. You ran your fingers over the note, but you didn't move it.

"Mommy?" Noah called out, and you heard him jump down from his bed. It was so obvious how much he missed his dad; he was extra clingy with you right now, even shedding a few tears now when you tried to drop him off before you went to work each day.

"I'm in the bathroom," you called out as best you could with your toothbrush still in your mouth. You opened the door so he could come in with you, and he immediately wrapped his arms around your thigh.

"Is it daycare today?"

You spit out the toothpaste and rinsed your mouth. "Yes, Sweet Noah. You have daycare today."

"I want to go to the park with you and Daddy."

That sounded so perfect, you wanted to scream. "As soon as Daddy comes home, we can all spend a whole day at the park. But not today." You didn't even want to tell him that you had to work an extra hour and a half and as a result would be picking him up later than usual. You agreed to cover some extra shifts all week long even though you were tired enough that you'd been passing out in bed right after Noah went to sleep each night. 

When he sniffed and looked up at you with watery eyes, you could barely handle it. Bradley had been gone for less than three weeks, but you were already getting a little desperate. You knew you would feel like a failure if you reached out for help at this point, even though Natasha and Penny had both been texting with you to check in. Bradley even had Tracy emailing you in case you needed anything, and you couldn't decide whether you had to make more friends to get him off your back or simply be appreciative that he cared enough to set things up.

"I know," you whispered to Noah, running your fingers through his soft curls. "But we can make ants on logs later. And we can take Skittles for a nice walk." When you said her name, the pup appeared in the bathroom doorway, her brown eyes also a little sad without her favorite person at home.

"I'm hungry," Noah murmured against your scrub pants. You bent to scoop him up into your arms and carried him to the kitchen where you got breakfast ready for everyone. It was going to be a long day for you, and you'd been so wrapped up in your feelings, you almost forgot you were going to have to see Casey. 

You groaned at the thought of her, and you immediately lost your appetite and scraped your eggs into the dish on the floor for Skittles to enjoy. After you packed yourself a lunch and got Noah ready, you realized you were kind of running late. Everything felt ten times harder when you had to do it all yourself. 

"I don't know how Bradley managed," you whispered as you zipped down the block in your car. A soft smile played at your lips as you thought back to how adorably hopeless he had been when you first met him. He hadn't eaten a good meal in probably months before you started babysitting Noah for him. At least he could cook a little bit now, even if he still couldn't figure out how to use his phone. 

When you took Noah inside his daycare, Casey's eyes were immediately glued to your ring as it shone in the sunlight. She slid the clipboard to you and watched you sign Noah in while you held his hand. Then you knelt down and kissed his cheek and whispered, "I'll pick you up later. I love you."

He smiled, and then you let Casey walk him inside. You stood there long enough to make sure he started to hang up his bag like you always did, and when she walked back out into the lobby, she was smirking. "Did Bradley leave you? He hasn't been here in weeks."

You rolled your eyes as you said, "He's deployed. We've been over this before."

She held up her hands in mock surrender. "I'm just saying, it kind of looks like he left you and Noah in the dust."

"In what world would that man leave Noah?" you practically shouted. 

"That's true," she replied with a smile. "Bradley would never leave his adorable son, but I could see him ditching you and your make believe baby."

You rubbed your temples and took your phone out of your pocket to check the time. You'd barely make it to work before the first patient if you didn't leave right now, but you couldn't help yourself. "I'm done, Casey. I've had enough. Which of the owners is here today? Because I'm not going to listen to you talk to me like this for one more minute."

Her face went ghostly white and she muttered something that you couldn't quite make out. "Speak up," you snapped. "Or apologize to me and don't bother talking to me again unless it's completely necessary."

"Sorry."

"Great," you told her loudly. "Have a great day, and when I pick Noah up later, just keep your mouth shut."

You took in the stupid looking expression on her face before you turned to leave, storming out the door and across the parking lot to your car.

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

It didn't take Bradley long to get used to the sleek controls and seductive design of the sixth-generation fighter jet that everyone appropriately referred to as Shadowhawk. By the second morning on base in Yokosuka, Admiral Palmer was singing Bradley's praises. He showed up early and did as he was told, hoping to spend as much time in the air as he could each day.

It was an adrenaline rush every single time. He was going substantially faster than he ever did in a Super Hornet, and all of his readouts were being recorded. He had to pass a quick physical and stress test every morning before he was allowed to fly, and then he was hooked up to monitoring equipment and let loose. He and Shadowhawk were flying the same loop far out over the pacific ocean at insanely high altitudes, and each time he fell a little bit more in love with being in the air. He could maneuver through rolls and dive into an attack formation faster than he could even imagine. 

When he was flying, it was easy enough to focus on the task at hand. He knew if he wasn't one hundred percent focused, it would be dangerous. He might not snuff out the launched missile in time with his flares or his guns. He might lose sight of his targets. But as soon as he had any sort of mental reprieve, he was thinking about you and Noah and Skittles and his bungalow tucked away on a side street in Coronado.

"Fuck," he muttered as he unloaded from Shadowhawk one day just as the sun was setting. He was drenched in sweat and exhausted, and all he could think about was taking a shower with you before dragging himself off to his king size bed that always smelled like wildflowers and falling asleep in your arms. He let the peripheral staff detach all of the cables and heart monitor from his flight suit before he found an officer who spoke English. "Is there time for me to make a phone call tonight?" he asked. 

It was about three o'clock in the morning in California, and he knew he wouldn't be able to talk to Noah, but he was dying to hear your voice. He knew he'd wake you up, but the ache was so strong, he absolutely needed to if he could. He'd been allowed to make exactly one call so far, and that was already more than two weeks ago.

All he got in response to his question was a quick shake of his head. "Tomorrow," she responded. That's what they told him every day. The lack of communication felt like a prison sentence at times, but there wasn't much he could do but accept it. All of the data they were collecting as well as Shadowhawk itself were considered proprietary and top secret. He practically had to sign his life away every day before he was allowed to touch the thing.

"Tomorrow," he repeated. "But will it actually be tomorrow? Or does that mean a week from now?"

"Tomorrow," she said more firmly, and he thanked her quietly before heading up to the tower to debrief with the admirals. There wasn't much else he could do.

The next day was a lot more of the same, and the routine was starting to grate on his nerves now. The aircraft still felt incredible, beyond his wildest dreams. He was still happy to be here, but at the same time, he was ready to go home now. They weren't giving him any updates on the progress of this assignment or when it might end, so he just decided to approach Admiral Palmer directly.

"Sir, I'd really appreciate a ten minute phone call, if that can be arranged." Once again, it was the middle of the night for you, but Bradley needed it.

The older man eyed him closely and cleared his throat. "It's a liability, Lieutenant. I'm sure you can understand that."

Bradley felt his fingers flex into fists at his sides. "Sir, someone would be monitoring me the entire time. And I'm just asking to talk to my fiancée and my son. That's it. Any time of any day."

The answer of, "There's no guarantee," did not sit well with Bradley. He had to bite his lip until he was tasting blood to keep himself from talking out of order, but he was sure the other man could read the frustration on his face and in his posture. "Maybe a very brief call, but we could be wrapping up our preliminary testing on Shadowhawk any day now. Either way, I'm sure you'll be able to finish out this temporary assignment like a professional."

Bradley swallowed down every retort that came to his mind, saluted Admiral Palmer, and left for his tiny room in the barracks. But another week passed, and Bradley knew there was no end in sight. And perhaps no phone call either. 

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

"Is this normal though?" you asked Natasha over the phone one night after Noah was in bed. You'd thought about taking a long bath, but you were so tired from working late almost every day, you could barely hold yourself up. You were already in bed at 8:45 with your phone pressed to your ear. "I haven't heard from Bradley in almost a month."

The words made a lump form in your throat. It was actually twenty-two and a half days since he'd called. You needed to hear his voice. Noah was asking for him nonstop, and he had missed your most recent checkup with your obstetrician. The whole thing had been such a blur during your lunch break without him there, and you wanted to show him the new ultrasounds.

"Well, I don't think this assignment is exactly normal, you know?" she replied. "On a regular deployment, you'd be able to talk to him almost weekly. But this is something else altogether."

You made a soft sound. There had to be a way to make the time pass faster. If you didn't have to get Noah by six o'clock every day, you would try to pick up more hours at work. Maybe this weekend you could start cleaning up the extra bedroom that you and Bradley decided would become the nursery. You already promised Noah that you'd take him shopping for a Halloween costume, so at least that would entertain him for a little while. 

"Thanks, Natasha," you murmured to Bradley's best friend.

"Hey, if you need a little break this weekend, I'd be more than happy to come over and play with Noah on Saturday or Sunday," she said, and you sighed in relief.

"That actually sounds fantastic. I'll call you."

You ended the call a minute later, curling up in a ball of exhaustion as you tried to imagine where Bradley was and what he was doing. You were tired now as you tried to do the math to determine what time it was in Japan. Was he sixteen hours ahead of you? Something like that? You yawned and fell asleep with your phone on the pillow next to your head.

Then you heard your ringtone blaring in your ear, and you almost fell out of the bed as you realized your phone was so close to you. RESTRICTED CALLER. "Oh my god," you gasped, trying to answer the call while you saw that your battery was down to four percent because you never plugged it in. "Bradley?!"

"Princess."

"Bradley!" You climbed out of bed, your body immediately shivering as you were exposed to the cool air. Your nerves were frayed as you plugged your phone in and asked, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Baby. I'm so sorry I woke you up."

"It's okay!" you said, your voice sounding more like a sob as you sat on the floor. "I've been so worried about you."

His voice was a deep, familiar rumble as he said, "I've got five minutes. Tell me everything."

"We miss you, Daddy," you said, rubbing your hand low on your belly which was starting to feel a little tender as you got closer to thirteen weeks along. "Noah asks for you all the time. The baby looked good at the last appointment. But your best friend, Skittles, is barely holding it together."

"I missed your appointment," he said, his voice strained with emotion. "I should have been there."

"It's okay," you whispered. "We're doing okay." But you weren't. You and Noah thrived when you had his attention. You felt loved when he was home to hold you and whisper plans about the future until you fell asleep each night. "I just thought you'd be able to call more often."

"Me too," he said in a tone that sounded both annoyed and resigned.

"Do you know when you'll be home?" you asked in as hopeful a voice as you could manage.

"Soon, Princess. Soon. Now tell me everything about your appointment."

You gave him more details as you shifted around on the floor, and you told him that Noah painted a picture for him. Then you heard someone on his end of the call telling him that it was time to go, and you wanted to scream that it wasn't enough. But instead you let the tears fall down your cheeks, thankful that you at least knew he was safe. 

"I love you, Bradley."

"I love you too, Princess. I'll be home before you know it."

You dried your tears and climbed back into bed, and even though you weren't able to fall asleep again, you felt so much better. Your imagination drifted to thoughts of the baby in the nursery, all of you curled up on the floor for story time together. You would start getting the room ready this weekend.

On Saturday, you took Noah to the Halloween warehouse store that seemed to pop up overnight. "You have to hold my hand," you reminded him as he reached for every single display in the crowded store. There were so many aisles, this would probably take up your entire morning with him. He was keeping a running list of options that he liked for trick-or-treating, and you had to keep reminding yourself not to check the price tags. You'd put whatever he wanted on your princess credit card and call it a day.

"Mommy, let's all be dinosaurs," he said, pointing to a costume in his size. 

You glanced around the area and said, "They don't have any in my size. Can we pick something else?"

"I want you and Daddy to dress up, too," he whined, and you didn't want to have to tell him that you weren't sure if Bradley would be home in the next week and a half to accommodate that wish. 

"Well, I will definitely dress up with you, okay? Let's pick something out where you and I can match."

But he wasn't going to be deterred. He was demanding that all three of you match along with Skittles. You walked around the entire store twice before you found an option that he agreed upon, and you were smiling as you gathered the costumes in all of the necessary sizes. "This is perfect, Sweet Noah," you said as you looked at the costume for Bradley and laughed. You just hoped he would be back in time to wear it. If not, maybe you could ask Maverick. 

The sky was starting to look overcast, so you took Noah home for lunch and didn't feel too bad about keeping him inside for the afternoon, especially when it started raining. You set him up with his array of coloring books at the kitchen table and then went to investigate the extra bedroom. Nobody ever slept in there, so it was a bit dusty. There was basically no furniture besides the bed and an old desk, but it was cozy and perfect for what you had planned. 

Your muscles were sore from standing at work, and you were so tired, but you started moving the bed anyway. You'd have to tell Dr. Kelly and the others that you were pregnant soon. It was time now, but you kept putting it off, enjoying the secret that only you and Bradley really knew about. Plus it still got under your skin a little bit when you considered that other people would have a knee jerk reaction to the timeframe of when you got engaged compared to when you got pregnant. 

"It's none of their business," you whispered to yourself as you walked to the kitchen to check on Noah every few minutes. Then you went back to the bedroom and cleaned, moved things around and took measurements. "How big are cribs, anyway?" you mused before looking up some dimensions online. "Pretty big." 

It took some creativity, but you thought you'd finally sorted out where everything should go. Then you moved Bradley's random junk from the closet to the attic, wiping the sweat from your face with each trip. You kicked your way through the boxes where you'd found the USB drive with the video he made with Meredith. At first you grimaced and thought you might cry, but then you remembered the way he had smashed the stupid thing to bits in the backyard. You wanted him to come home. You needed him to. 

"Mommy?" Noah called out, luring you back into the kitchen. You were a mess, and when you noticed how much he was yawning, you silently rejoiced. 

"It looks like you could use a nap," you said as you kissed the curls on top of his head. He scrambled up into your arms and hugged you, such a tiny reminder of his dad, and you carried him off to his room. After a few stories, he was asleep as the rain picked up a little bit, and you knew this would be the perfect time to take a shower.

You moved Skittles' bed into Noah's room temporarily, and coaxed her in with a treat. "Keep him company in case he wakes up," you whispered, and she walked around in a circle on the plush cushion before settling in. Her crooked, purple bow made you smile. Everything in this house made you smile and think about Bradley. You knew he'd have even more ideas about a theme for the nursery, but you started to scroll through some inspiration online as the shower warmed up for you.

The water ended up feeling better than you anticipated. Your shoulders were sore. Your hips were sore. Every part of your body was aching. It seemed it didn't matter how much you were sleeping, you were still exhausted all day long. Maybe Dr. Kelly would reduce your hours and give you a break. You thought about sneaking home one afternoon a week to take a long nap before going back out to pick Noah up. Then you thought about how Casey hadn't said a single word to you since you told her you were going to her boss. Then you smiled. 

You were squeaky clean when you got dressed again in some old sweats and headed to the kitchen. Your stomach was growling, and you desperately wanted some coffee. "One cup is okay," you whispered, turning on Bradley's fancy machine while you made yourself a snack. You'd been meticulous about how much caffeine you were drinking, and Bradley helped by bringing home only decaf from the coffee shop. You downed the cup, and it was hot and delicious, and almost immediately you had to pee again. 

Your doctor told you that was normal as the baby grew and started to stretch things out. You passed Noah's bedroom door where both he and Skittles were still sound asleep as the rain splattered against his window, and then you went to the bathroom. When you wiped, the toilet paper caught your eye, and your hand started to shake. Pink. Blood. Just a little bit, but there was blood. 

"Oh no," you gasped, a dizzy spell overtaking your body. You'd read about this in your textbooks, and you knew it could happen, but you'd blocked it out of your mind when it came to yourself right now. You didn't want to be an example. You had to grip the toilet seat with one hand to keep steady as you wiped yourself again. There was more blood, a little bit less pink and more red this time. 

Your own breathing was too loud. It was echoing through your mind and through the bathroom, and you wanted to throw up. You eased yourself onto the floor and started to panic. The baby. What if something was happening to the baby? "No," you whispered, trying to ground yourself. Using the edge of the tub, you pulled yourself slowly to your feet, your head spinning more with every inch you moved. "No," you said louder. 

When you were standing on your own, you had yourself almost convinced you'd imagined it. You didn't feel bad. You were just a little sore. There couldn't be anything wrong. You reached for another piece of toilet paper and wiped, but the result was the same. 

Where was your phone? Who were you supposed to call? You walked around in circles around the house while your heart thudded a sickening rhythm in your chest. You paused, unable to locate your phone and convinced you were going to throw up. After you backtracked to the extra bedroom, you found it and unlocked it.

Natasha's name was right there in your recent calls, and you tapped on it before you could even fathom what you were going to tell her. 

"Hi," she said brightly when she eventually answered. "Want me to come over and play with Noah so you can take a break for a little bit?"

"Please," you gasped. "Please come over. Right now."

She must have sensed something in your voice, because hers turned serious as she assured you she was on her way. While you waited for her, you wiped yourself again and again before you made yourself wait in the living room instead of the bathroom. When she walked inside with dripping wet hair and concern on her face, you said, "Noah is still napping. I need to take myself to the emergency room."

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

Get to the hospital, Princess. This kind of scenario is very real and has happened to me. I will tread as carefully as I can. Please don't scream at me. We will hear from a doctor in the next chapter. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 56

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[justabigassnerd]

Accidents Happen

Pairing - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x daughter!reader, Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

Word count - 3,229

Warnings - car accident, mentions of concussion, injured ribs, hospitals, doctors, incorrect medical discussions, angst, fluff

Summary - after a minor car accident, you try to keep it from your dad, just for him to find out the moment you get to the hospital

A/N - hey y'all it's time for a new part of Hangman Junior! I hope y'all enjoy and once again I'm sorry for how long it's taking me to get out fics, the old motivation is really coming and going. anyways I won't ramble, as per y'all please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

After getting your driving licence, your dad and Bradley surprised you with a car of your own. It wasn’t anything magnificent, but it was yours and you were in love with it. Having your own car gave you some more freedom, and you loved getting to go on drives to clear your head sometimes.

One weekend, while your dad and Bradley were meeting with the Daggers to watch a football game at Javy’s house, you decided to go for a drive. It was a bright sunny day in Miramar, and you had your windows down as you listened to your music at a low volume as you took in the views of the place you were lucky enough to call home. As you pulled up to a red light, you drummed your fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the song you were listening to as you hummed along too, eyes fixed on the bright red light ahead of you.

As you reached out to adjust your volume dial, a violent crash sent your car skidding forward a couple of meters as your head smacked the steering wheel and your seatbelt tightened around your ribs in an attempt to protect you. When you sat up, heart pounding in your chest, you looked in your rearview mirror, expecting to catch a glimpse of the person who rammed the back of your car but instead, you saw a blur of colour fly by your window indicating whoever had hit you was now fleeing the scene. As you watched the car drive away, you suddenly became conscious of the fact you were still in the middle of the road so you found a nearby car park and pulled into the first spot you could find to recover. As you sat in the car park, your adrenaline began to wear off and the pain started to kick in as the events of what had just happened sunk in. Your head felt like it was splitting in two, your side ached with every breath you took, and you felt nauseous. Panic began to grab at you as everything sank in. You were panicking because you got into an accident. You were panicking because you couldn’t call your dad because you knew how much he’d worry, and you didn’t want him getting upset or mad that you crashed your car. You fumbled for your phone, finding the contact of the one person who you knew wasn’t with your dad and Bradley which meant he could help you and not tell your dad. Pressing on the contact, you lift your phone to your ear and listen to each ring with bated breath.

“Hey, y/n/n.” You could practically hear Maverick’s smile as he picks up the phone and hearing him so happy made tears well in your eyes about how fast you were about to disappoint him.

“Mav, I need help.” Your teary voice wiped any smile that was on his face as he sat up from where he was lounging on the sofa, a seriousness coming over him as Penny watched the switch, concerned for what was going on.

“What’s wrong, kid?” Maverick asked worriedly, hearing you try and contain your tears.

“Promise you won’t tell my dad or Bradley?” What you said made Maverick all the more worried. He knew you were responsible enough to not get into serious trouble, but he also knew you panicked when something happened.

“I promise. Now tell me what’s wrong so I can help you.” Maverick says hurriedly, growing more worried for you by the second. After taking a shuddering breath, you tell Maverick everything that had happened. After hearing everything, Maverick was on his feet in seconds with Penny following after him.

“Okay, I’m going to come and get you and we’ll go to the hospital to get you checked over.” Maverick says calmly, gesturing for Penny to follow him which she does so, grabbing her car keys as she goes.

“I’m going to stay on the phone with you. Just tell me where you are, and we’ll be right there.” Maverick then says as he climbs into the passenger seat and Penny gets behind the wheel.

True to his word. Maverick stayed on the phone with you the whole time and when you saw Penny’s car pull up you could’ve cried even more. You climb out of the car haphazardly, nearly falling flat on your face as your vision swims and another wave of nausea strikes you.

“Whoa, easy there y/n.” Maverick says, steadying you easily, an arm wrapped around you as he glances over at Penny who’s inspecting the damage on the back of your car.

“Did this happen here?” Penny asks, crouching as she her hand ghosts over the damage done to the back of your car, missing you shake your head, but Maverick doesn’t.

“It happened in the road, and I figured moving was the best option, so I wasn’t blocking traffic.” You mumble, looking down at the floor as Maverick’s head turns to look at you so fast you were sure he cricked his neck in the process.

“You drove? y/n/n that’s not safe sweetheart.” Maverick scolds gently, feeling guilty for telling you off but not wanting you to do something like this again.

“I just didn’t want to be in the way.” You say quietly, as Maverick lets out a soft sigh, shoulder sagging as he exhales.

“If there’s ever a next time, which I hope there isn’t, you should stay put. You don’t know if you’re injured and moving around can disturb them or if you’ve injured your head, you could potentially pass out.” Maverick explains, never once sounding harsh or condescending.

“I’m going to call a tow truck and then we’ll get you to the hospital, okay?” Penny says, crossing to you and gaining your attention, making you nod, immediately regretting the action when yet another wave of nausea strikes you.

“Are you feeling okay?” Maverick asks worriedly, not missing the way your jaw clenched after you nodded your head.

“Just feel a bit nauseous and my ribs hurt a little but I’m fine I promise.” You insist, trying to downplay everything to prevent Maverick from getting any more worried than he already was. But Maverick was already worrying about you, especially with you admitting you’ve sustained some injuries. He knew you were downplaying everything and was willing the tow truck to get here as quickly as possible so he could take you to the hospital. Like some sort of miracle descended on him, the tow truck arrived in good time and the second your car was hauled off, you got into Penny’s car, and she began the drive to the hospital.

When you arrived at the hospital, Maverick kept an arm around you just in case despite your insistence that you were fine. You approached the receptionist who looked up at the three of you, waiting for you to speak.

“Hi, she got into a car accident, and she needs to be checked out.” Maverick says, pointing at you as the receptionist types on her computer.

“Name and description of injuries please.” She says simply, looking to you for an answer.

“y/n Seresin. I hit my head on the steering wheel and my ribs hurt too.” You say, glancing down at the floor to avoid anyone’s gaze.

“And are you two her parents?” The receptionist was now looking between Maverick and Penny, expecting an answer.

“No we’re not. We’re close friends of her parents though.” Penny explains, watching as the receptionist types away on her computer before looking back at her.

“Why don’t you go and wait in the waiting room, dear. I need to speak to these two.” The receptionist says with a gentle smile aimed at you as you nod shyly, watching as you head to the waiting room before turning back to Maverick and Penny.

“I will have to call her parents since you two are not immediate family. They’re not abroad, are they?” The receptionist states, pulling up your emergency contacts and finding Jake’s number.

“We understand. Her parents aren’t abroad no, you should be able to contact them easily.” Maverick explains, nodding at the receptionist’s words and watching as she picks up the phone, dialling Jake’s number and holding the phone up to her ear.

As Jake sat down after cheering a scored touchdown, he felt his phone vibrate and when he pulled it out of his pocket, he raised an eyebrow at the unknown number and got back onto his feet.

“I’m just going to step outside and take this, I’ll be back.” Jake says, holding his phone up and excusing himself to step out into Javy’s back garden for some privacy.

“Hello?” Jake says, accepting the call and lifting his phone up to his ear.

“Hello. Is this Lieutenant Commander Jake Seresin?” The voice on the other end of the line asks, making Jake a little concerned at the formality but kept his cool.

“Yes, this is. Who’s calling?” He asks, fighting the urge to pace along the patio to ease his nerves. When the person on the other end of the line introduces themself as a receptionist of the local hospital and Jake begins to feel his blood run cold.

“Your daughter, y/n Seresin has been in a car accident and has been brought to the hospital. She’s conscious and doesn’t have any major injuries but she’s currently waiting for a doctor to check her over.” The receptionist explained, and Jake swore he could’ve collapsed there and then, his free hand flew out to brace himself against one of the garden chairs that sat on Javy’s patio, keeping him upright as he processed what he was just told.

“I’ll head over now.” Is all Jake could manage to say, hanging up and making his way back into the house, a hand immediately digging in his pocket for the keys to his truck.

“I’m so sorry guys, I have to go.” Jake says, making his way into the living room to apologise for his early departure. A wave of joking complaints left his coworker's mouths, but Bradley saw the worry on his husband’s face and got up and crossed to him, gently taking Jake’s hand in his.

“What’s wrong, Jake?” Bradley asks quietly, his thumb ghosting along the back of Jake’s knuckles in an attempt to calm Jake.

“y/n’s in the hospital.” Jake manages to say, looking at Bradley as his concern levels rise.

“We’re going to the hospital right now.” Bradley says, glancing over his shoulder to say a quick goodbye to everyone before tugging Jake out of the house and taking the keys from his hand.

“I’ll drive.” Bradley says softly, knowing that no matter how much he may be panicking, it’s ten times worse for Jake and therefore puts him in no state to drive. Jake opened his mouth to argue but quickly closed it when Bradley just raised an eyebrow. Jake climbed into the passenger seat while Bradley got behind the wheel and began the drive to the hospital, both of them thinking about what state you were in.

When they got to the hospital, Jake was getting out of the truck as quick as humanly possible with Bradley hot on his heels as they both made their way into the hospital and approached the front desk.

“Hi, I got a call that my daughter y/n Seresin has been brought here after a car accident.” Jake says to the receptionist, noticing Bradley’s widened eyes out of the corner of his eye.

“Car accident?” Bradley asks in a whisper, immediately more concerned about your well-being.

“Oh yes, I believe a doctor just took her to be assessed so you’re free to wait in the waiting room and they’ll come and get you when they’re done.” The receptionist says, pointing in the direction of the waiting room and the two men head in the direction she pointed, entering the waiting room and immediately noticing Maverick and Penny.

“Mav?” Bradley questions as they lock eyes and Maverick leaps to his feet to cross to them.

“Hey, you two.” Maverick greets, trying to keep a calm tone while standing in front of the two panicking parents.

“What are you doing here?” Bradley then asked, confused as to why Maverick was in the hospital in the first place and as he asked the question it clicked into place for Jake.

“Mav, did you know our daughter was in hospital and didn’t call us?” Jake asks, his jaw clenching as he glares angrily at the man stood in front of him.

“She asked me not to tell you. If she was in a worse state, I would’ve absolutely called you without hesitation.” Maverick tries to explain, holding his hands up to try and keep the peace between them.

“You should’ve called me.” Jake says lowly, his usually bright eyes growing darker as his glare intensifies.

“I would’ve if the receptionist hadn’t beat me to it. I couldn’t call you in front of her and stress her out when she was hurt and upset. She didn’t tell me why she didn’t want you to know but you won’t get an answer out of her with that mood. You can be mad at me all you want but don’t you dare take any of it out on her.” Maverick says, his tone beginning to match Jake’s as Bradley decides to step in, aware of the looks they’re beginning to get in the waiting room.

“You two need to calm down and be civil.” He whispers to the two. He understood Jake’s anger towards Maverick, but he knew there was nothing to gain from causing an argument in the middle of a hospital waiting room. Jake broke the apparent staring contest between him and Maverick, clearing his throat with a cough before looking back at Maverick.

“She’s really not too badly hurt?” Jake asks as the three move to sit down alongside Penny.

“She’s been awake and alert the whole time. From what she’s told me I think she might have a slight concussion or something and some kind of injury to her ribs but I’m no doctor.” Maverick explains to Jake, not missing the way he lets out a small sigh of relief, but Maverick knew Jake would only be okay when he saw you with his own eyes.

“Thank you for getting her here. Both of you.” Jake then thanks both Maverick and Penny who immediately try to tell him not to thank them, insisting they’d do it anytime. Before another word could be spoken, a nurse comes into the waiting room and calls for your family and Jake and Bradley are on their feet in seconds, immediately crossing to the nurse and enquiring about your wellbeing.

“The doctor is with her now and he will explain everything, but we’ve had to admit y/n for the night just for observation.” The nurse explains as both Jake and Bradley nod, glancing back at Maverick who silently encourages them to go with the nurse with a soft smile before they look at the nurse and ask to be taken up to your room. The nurse leads the way up to your room and when they enter the room Jake and Bradley are relieved to see you sat up in bed a shy smile on your face when you see them.

“Oh, thank god.” Jake mutters, crossing to your side as quickly as possible and planting at least ten gentle kisses on top of your head.

“Dad, I’m fine.” You grumble, clearly embarrassed at the attention he is giving you, glancing over to Bradley for help.

“Jake, let's give her some space and listen to the doctor, shall we?” Bradley urges softly, taking a seat while Jake does the same, both of them looking to the doctor who clears his throat.

“y/n here has suffered a mild concussion from the accident, nothing too serious but we’ve admitted her for the night just to be on the safe side, and she’s also cracked a couple of ribs as well due to her seatbelt doing its job. We’ve administered pain relief so she should be okay but if there’s a sudden flare-up of pain or it seems the pain relief is wearing off you can press the call button and a nurse will see to her.” The doctor explains everything you’ve already been told to your parents and after getting confirmation that everything is okay, the doctor and nurse leave the room.

“Did Mav tell you?” You ask quietly, glancing down at the thin sheet covering you and fiddling with the corner.

“No, the hospital called me. Mav told me you asked him not to tell us.” Jake says gently, not an ounce of anger in his voice as he carefully takes your hand.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, tears springing to your eyes while Bradley and Jake exchange a worried look.

“You don’t need to apologise, sweetheart. It’s okay.” Bradley reassures you softly, his gentle smile never once leaving his face as he speaks.

“But I got into an accident.” You mumble, briefly looking up at your dads before returning your attention to the corner of the sheet again.

“Why don’t you tell us what happened?” Bradley then suggested, gaining your attention and both men listened carefully as you explained that you were waiting at a red light and got rear-ended before the driver took off. You didn’t miss the joint sharp inhale that came from Bradley and Jake when you explained that you drove to the nearest car park to call Maverick.

“I’m sorry. I ruined my car. I’ll save up money to pay for it I swear.” You try apologising again after finishing your story.

“Sweetheart, we don’t care about the car.” Jake starts, being cut off by you shaking your head.

“No, I ruined it.” You insist, tears spilling down your cheeks.

“I don’t care about the car, I promise. A car is replaceable. You, however, are not. I’d much rather have to just get a whole new car than lose you, okay?” Jake says firmly yet softly, reaching out to gently wipe your tears away.

“Don’t worry about the car. We’ll get it fixed or get a new car if we need. We just care about you right now.” Bradley chimes in rounding the bed so he can sit on your other side, taking your other hand and running his thumb across the back of it.

“You just need to focus on resting up, okay?” Jake urges you softly, wiping the remainder of your tears off your face and smiling softly at you and Jake swore he could see the tension leaving your body after letting out a soft exhale.

As you relax back into your pillows, you let the relief sink in that your dads aren’t mad at you and grateful they care as much as they do about you. Despite that, your eyes flick between the two men, before your eyes flick up to the tv which when you had flipped through the channels had found nothing interesting and so left you to come up with a way to create your own entertainment using your dad’s.

“So… how was what you saw of the game? Eagles versus Cowboys, right?”

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[beyondthesefourwalls]

This Love Came Back to Me (6)

Summary: You and Bradley hadn’t ended on bad terms; really, you stopped before the two of you could even truly begin. Still, in the last seven months, you had never completely left his mind. So when you suddenly appeared in front of him at the bar, asking for a favor and pulling him into a kiss, he thought maybe it was the perfect opportunity to see if this time, things could be different. But what neither of you realized was that there’s more going on than just rekindling a lost romance, and it might not be as easy as simply just wanting it. 

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: second chance romance, language, allusions of smut and potential full smut, stalking, unhealthy obsessions, delusions of feelings, unwanted attention.

Part Six Word Count: 3.6K

Part Five :: Series Masterlist

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Bradley made a point of locking his apartment door behind him, sliding the chain into place with more emphasis than he probably usually did. You knew you were being too quiet - the silence in the room was so loud it was almost stifling. He had kept a tight hold on your hand the entire journey from the parking lot, almost like he was afraid if he let go you’d turn around and leave after all. It caused even more anxiety to churn in your stomach, because the last thing you wanted was him questioning your desire to be here or not. But you couldn’t figure out what to say just yet, and the more you tried, the harder it became.

“Do you want to get ready for bed?” he asked, disrupting the silence. You nodded, adjusting the grip on the overnight bag you had stopped by your car to grab on the way upstairs. 

“I’ll wait out here. Take all the time you need, okay?” 

It was silly, but the words made you want to cry. Bradley was the best man you had ever known. He deserved so much better than this. 

You forced another nod and a small quirk of your lips and took a step in the direction of the hallway. You hadn’t gotten far when you stopped, spinning on your heel to go back to him. You could see the question on his face but before he could voice it, you raised on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly. You gave him another smile before retreating to his bathroom. 

After you had taken your makeup off and changed your clothes, you stared at yourself in the mirror. There was a bitter taste in your mouth that you couldn’t get to go away. 

The night had started so wonderfully, just like you knew it would. You had been looking forward to seeing Bradley all week after the beach date on Monday. You had been slightly surprised when he asked you to go to the Hard Deck, but hadn’t hesitated in agreeing. Sure, you were anxious to remeet all of his friends, knowing how important they were to him. But he hadn’t been lying when he said none of them held ill will toward you from your breakup. After shaking off the initial nerves, you were having so much fun drinking and hanging out with them with Bradley at your side. You were so happy and you knew the night would only get better when it was just the two of you later on. 

And then Paul had just…appeared. Again. You had told Nat you would wait in line at the bar while she washed her hands in the bathroom, and suddenly there he was, pouncing during the one moment you were alone. His voice rang like an alarm in your head as he talked about buying you a drink and taking you out for dinner, like the events of the week of you throwing his flowers out and reporting him to HR - again - hadn’t even happened. He had grabbed onto your arm so tightly and started pulling you along with him before you could even fathom a response. Then Natasha had showed up and pushed him away, immediately going off about respect and personal space. 

And then Bradley was there, arriving in the midst of your shock, making you feel safe despite it all. 

You had tried so hard not to let it ruin the night. You thought going back to all of Bradley’s friends and pretending that nothing happened would make you feel better, but the interaction stayed there in the back of your mind. 

It was hard for you to really tell what you were feeling now that a few hours had passed. You were upset at the whole situation, certainly. You were angry that he wouldn’t leave you alone and that he had picked you to have this stupid crush on. More than that, though, you were embarrassed, both at the fact that it had happened for everyone to witness and that you were letting it affect you so much. 

Paul was persistent and he was a creep, but did he really pose that much of a threat? When you had met with your manager a few days prior, she had echoed the same sentiment, saying that some men just couldn’t take a hint, and maybe you should be flattered that he’s paying you this much attention.

“It’s certainly not as big of a deal as you’re making it,” she had said with a roll of her eyes.

You tried all week to convince yourself that she was right, but you couldn’t. If you were honest with yourself, you were starting to get scared that this just kept happening. Especially now, when all you wanted was this second chance with Bradley to work out. 

Instead, you felt like a burden. It was why you had suggested you return to your own home tonight. You didn’t want to be too much for him, particularly not this early on, when you were both still figuring out how this was going to work. 

But one look at his expressive dark eyes and you were getting out of the car with him. 

With a shuddering breath, you finished up in the bathroom. You could hear the soft sounds of the tv on in the background from the living room when you stepped out. When you rounded the corner, you could see Bradley sitting on the couch. He had stripped out of the Hawaiian shirt and jeans into a pair of sweatpants and his undershirt. He looked up when you walked into the room, offering you one of those small smiles that made you feel warm inside. Without saying anything, he raised his arm, inviting you to sit with him. 

When you settled into his side, he pulled down the afghan on the back of the couch to drape over both of you. For a few minutes, you watched the cooking competition show that he had turned on. You could almost pretend that it was just a normal night of winding down together. But you could feel how Bradley was sitting stiffer than usual, and how his fingers kept flexing around the remote in his lap. You knew it was inevitable, and in the next commercial break, the need to say something had finally won out. 

“How did he know where we were tonight?” 

Your eyes squeezed shut at the question. He had asked it in a regular tone, if anything quieter than was normal for him, but it might as well have been screamed at you with how loud it rang in your head. You hadn’t let yourself consider that particular question, pushing it as far down as you could. 

“I don’t know,” you whispered in response. You were so quiet that for a second you hoped that whatever ad was playing through the speakers would mask the sound of your voice. But you knew he heard you by how he raised the remote to mute the tv. You sat in silence, and you felt worse with every passing second. 

“I’m sorry if I derailed our night,” you finally said, unable to stand it anymore. Bradley shifted so that you weren’t leaning against him anymore, sitting beside you and turning your face to his with a gentle hand so he could meet your eyes. 

“You didn’t derail anything,” he insisted, and you could tell he meant it. Still, you felt the guilt swelling. He let out a long sigh, the frustration in it evident and painted all over his face. “I just…fuck, Bug. I don’t understand.” 

You chewed on your bottom lip and snapped the hair tie on your wrist as you contemplated your response. You didn’t understand either, and you wished you did. “I’m not sure what else to do,” you admitted quietly. 

“Call off work on Monday,” he said immediately, like it was something he had been thinking about before you posed the question. “Or quit, even.”

You sighed. You wanted to. You did. But you knew you couldn’t - it wasn’t realistic. You had rent and bills and while you had some savings, it wouldn’t sustain you forever. “I can’t do that, B. I can’t let him and his stupid creepy crush start impacting me more than it already has. That’s my job.”

Bradley spoke your name as he shook his head. “This isn’t just a stupid creepy crush anymore.”

“I know that!” 

You didn’t mean to snap at him, but the words came out sharp anyway. You felt jittery all of a sudden and so you took a deep breath and threw the blanket off of you, standing from the couch. To his credit, Bradley didn’t try to stop you as you walked the few paces to the kitchen. You poured yourself some water to try and cool yourself down, but when you tried to bring it to your lips to drink it, your hand shook. The glass thudded against the countertop when you set it down with more force than necessary. Frustrated tears filled your eyes and when one escaped, you wiped it away harshly. 

After giving you a moment to breathe, Bradley followed to your side. You were leaning against the counter with your head in your hands when he rested a big hand on your back. 

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said gently, rubbing his palm up and down your spine. His touch was always so soothing to you and left you feeling warm.

“I know. You didn’t,” you assured him, turning your head to look at him. 

“We promised we’d do better at talking, and being honest with how we were feeling,” he reminded you, and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at where he was going with this. “Right now I feel like there’s someone who is unhealthily obsessed with my girl, and she thinks it’s her fault, or that she’s ruining things, but she’s not.”

You wanted to deny it, to tell him he was wrong. But you knew that you couldn’t. He had voiced exactly what was going through your head. 

“I don’t want to be too much for you,” you admitted quietly. Bradley opened his mouth to respond, already shaking his head, but you held up a hand to stop him. You swallowed the lump in your throat and exhaled deeply. “I want this to work. So badly. And it’s not fair that this is something we have to be worried about - that you have to be worried about. Because I am, B. I’m worried. And I’m scared.” 

Your voice cracked as you finally said it out loud, and it seemed that once you started, you couldn’t stop. “I don’t want this attention from him. But until I find another job there’s nothing else that I can do. I’ve done everything I can think of. I’ve told him to stop, I’ve reported him at work. And it’s not like he’s made any real threats, so I can’t even go to the cops. Him showing up at the same bar won't be enough. They’ll mark it off as a coincidence, even if deep down I know it’s not. So I have no choice but to deal with this.”

“I know. I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel like you aren’t,” he sighed. “I want this to work, too, Bug. And it will. I can’t…I can’t explain how strong my feelings are for you - how I need to protect you. So it’s hard for me, too, that I can’t do anything. I know you’re doing everything you can. But you don’t have to do it alone, okay? I’m here. For whatever you need.”  

His gaze was so full of tenderness and understanding, it made you want to cry for a whole new reason. You could feel the tears welling in your eyes by the time he finished. He wanted this to work, and was so sure that it would. He wanted to protect you - needed to, apparently. And you wanted that too. But god, you wished he didn’t have to. 

“A hug would be a nice start,” you decided, and your boyfriend didn’t hesitate to draw you into his arms. You buried your face in his chest and held onto him as you mumbled into his shirt. “And I don’t want to talk about him anymore. I want to focus on us.” 

He kissed the top of your head, squeezing you tightly. “Okay.” 

____

You spent the next hour or so cuddled up on the couch, just like you wanted. When your eyes started closing longer and longer during blinks, Bradley chuckled softly and clicked the tv off, shuffling you both back to his bedroom. It took your tired, heavy eyes a moment to register what was in front of you but when they did, a quiet gasp escaped.

“You kept it?” you asked softly. You looked across the bed at Bradley to see his face pink as he pulled down the covers. 

“Kept it in with the rest of my spare sheets,” he responded with a shrug, and you knew he was trying to play it off as no big deal, but to you, it meant everything. 

Warmth filled you as your fingertips touched the soft, silk material of your pillowcase. You had made a passing comment once early on in your relationship about how you preferred this material to rest your head on and Bradley had surprised you with an exact match to the one you kept on your bed at home the next time you stayed over. You had never expected him to keep it once you broke up. 

Climbing into the bed, you bypassed your side completely. Bradley huffed out a sound of surprise as you straddled his lower abdomen, but as you leant down to kiss him, it turned into something more pleasant and eager.   

“I’m so lucky to have you,” you murmured against his lips. He squeezed your thighs in his big hands as he kissed you back. 

“Took the words right out of my mouth, baby,” he whispered back. You hummed happily in response, tasting his lips again. It wasn’t long before he was rolling you onto your back so he could hover over you instead, never once breaking the kiss. 

Suddenly, you weren’t feeling all that tired at all. 

_____

You were glad when the weekend passed without further incident. You didn’t talk about Paul again, and you did your very best not to think about how the weekend had started. Instead, you slept in on Saturday morning and woke up in Bradley’s arms, followed by a day of doing little more than just being together before he surprised you by taking you out. You had figured you would be staying inside of his apartment all weekend, and when you voiced as much, he gave you a soft look filled with so much sincerity it nearly took your breath away.

“I want to take you out,” he said as he trailed the back of his finger down your cheek. “Let me?”

He knew how much you didn’t want your relationship to change because of what you were dealing with. So you knew what he was really asking. Let me give this to you. Let me keep you safe - don’t be scared with me. Be with me.

So you spent Saturday night out, first at dinner and then at a karaoke bar, laughing at off key renditions of 90s pop and ballads from the early 2000s. When you got back to his apartment, you sat on the counter as he stood between your legs, sharing a drive thru milkshake that had quickly been abandoned in favor of tasting one another. You went to bed with a smile on your face, his body wrapped around yours, feeling safe and warm. 

Bradley didn’t bring up you calling out of work on Monday again, though you could tell as he bid you goodbye on Sunday night that he was reluctant to let you go for reasons more than just missing you.  

“You can stay another night,” he murmured against your mouth. His body was flush against yours, pressing you into the side of your car in his complex parking lot. He nipped at your bottom lip as you hummed in pleasure. “Or I can come stay with you.”

“Traffic is terrible in the mornings between our places,” you replied distractedly, raking your fingernails down his back as he kissed your jaw. “And work is in the opposite direction for both of us.” 

“Doesn’t matter,” he insisted, “I’d do it.” 

You whimpered and drew his lips back to yours, losing yourself for another few minutes in the feel of him, his tongue tangled with yours and his large body surrounding you where you stood. 

The kiss slowed gradually, both of you reluctant for it to end but knowing that it had to. You breathed in deeply once you settled back onto your feet. His dark eyes were almost pleading as they stared into yours.

“I’ll text you when I get home?” you asked quietly. You toyed with the hem of his white t-shirt. 

Bradley sighed, his eyes closing momentarily, and you swallowed the lump that formed in your throat. You tightened your arms around him and let your forehead fall to rest on his chest. His chin rested on your head and you stood there for a long moment. When the orange and pinks in the sky started turning more purple and inky blue, you knew you had to pull yourself away, whether you liked it or not. 

Lifting your head, you looked up at him, smiling softly. “I had an amazing weekend, B.” 

He leant down to capture your lips in one more kiss. “Me too, Bug.” 

When you got home nearly thirty minutes later, you wondered why you hadn’t just agreed to stay. You locked your front door and flipped on the light and couldn’t help but sigh as you took in your small living room. It was just as you had left it on Friday morning before you went to work, not that you had expected any different. But looking around, you couldn’t help but admit that it felt…different. Truthfully, it had for a while now. You weren’t sure when it started, but this little house that you loved so much didn’t feel as much like home as it had in the last two years you had lived here. You had tried to push away the feeling, but it gnawed at you now. 

If you were honest with yourself, the most at home you had felt in this space you had crafted so carefully was when Bradley had been here with you. Briefly, you wondered what it would be like if you never had to say goodbye to him like earlier. You only let yourself consider the thought for a second being pushing it away - it was too early to think about that. There was too much going on. 

You groaned out loud, dramatic and drawn out, pushing yourself off the door. You grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen before making your way into your bedroom to start getting ready for bed. It wasn’t late, but your bed was calling your name, and you’d rather curl up underneath the weighted blankets with your tv on as you texted your boyfriend than try and do anything productive tonight. 

Why had you been so insistent on coming home again? 

You jumped when a movement behind you in the bathroom mirror caught your attention while you were brushing your teeth a little bit later. You breathed out a sigh of relief when you realized it was just your gauzy curtains rustling as a breeze floated in the window. But then you cursed when you realized the latch must have shifted sometime during the weekend. It was barely cracked, hardly enough even for the wind to get in, but you still hurried over to slam it down and lock it again. It had been giving you trouble since the moment you moved in and your landlord had been insistent that you just weren’t locking it properly, though you knew he just didn’t want to pay for a replacement. 

“Cheap bastard,” you muttered around your toothbrush. 

You unlocked your phone once you were safely burrowed amongst your pillows, Dateline playing in the background. You smiled when you saw Bradley had texted you already, asking if you had gotten home okay. 

You snapped a quick selfie and sent it back in response. The three dots appeared immediately and it made your heart flutter knowing that he must have been waiting for you to respond, even if he had sent the message five minutes ago. 

Bradley🐓✈️❤️: Damn. Can’t believe I’m jealous of your pillows right now. 

The bubble popped up again before you had a chance to type out a response, and when you saw the selfie he had sent you back, you squealed in pure delight. He was in his own bed, chest bare with one arm folded under his head. When you looked closely though, it was your pillow he was resting on. 

Bradley🐓✈️❤️: I’ll keep this warm for you until you come back. Miss you already❤️

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

Part Seven :: Series Masterlist :: Main Masterlist

Notes: I just want to give Bug a hug. Girlfriend is so hard on herself. I hope you enjoyed this little bit of fluff! I'd probably not get used to it.

Likes/comments/reblogs are the best encouragement for posting more🖤

Thank you to Mak and Em for all of your help making this story come to life. And thanks to Mak for the AMAZING banner!

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[cherrycola27]

daylight

Series Warnings: Mature Content 18+. Language, drinking, and allusions to smut. Eventuallyfull smut. Military inaccuracies. Minors DNI. Banner Credit @thedroneranger

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Chapter 2: Love as Cruel as the Cities I Lived In

You took a deep breath as you pulled into the sandy Hard Deck parking lot. The bright reddish orange of the neon sign was like a becon calling you home. You pulled into a space and scanned the lot, looking for a familiar shade of blue.

You didn't see it, but it was still early. You hoped he'd come later. You sat back in your driver's seat and flipped down your visor mirror. You checked your reflection and messed with your hair before applying a fresh coat of lip gloss before flipping the visor up.

Your fingers gripped the steering wheel in an effort to calm your nerves. You didn't think you should be nervous. It was Bradley for crying out loud, but five years, especially with no contact, is so long, and so much can change.

The setting sun caught the shiny metal of the linked bracelet that sat on your wrist. You twisted it around a few times until the one gold link amongst all the silver ones rested at the top. You smiled when you thought about the day Bradley gave it to you. It was your first anniversary as a couple. You loved it, and you especially loved it when he told you the reason he bought it.

He said that you two would always be connected to each other, even if you were deployed at different parts of the world. He told you that the silver of the bracelet represented the color of your squadron, and the gold was for his, so even if you weren't together, you'd always have a small part him with you.

You thought it was the sweetest thing ever, but what made it even sweeter was when he showed you the matching chain he has bought himself. "So we are always together." He whispered before kissing you.

The memory made you happy and helped you hold out hope that Bradley would welcome you back with open arms.

You took another deep breath and opened your car door, and stepped out. Before going in, you reached into your left pocket and ran your fingers over the metal disk that lived there.

It was the first challenge coin Bradley had ever earned from his squadron. The two of you would flip it to make date night decisions throughout your relationship. It was like your good luck charm. You always had it in the left pocket of your flight suit when you were up in the air—well— almost always.

You ran your fingers over the ridges of the metal one last time before putting your keys in your purse and walking in. You had just walked in the door when you heard a familiar voice call your name. "Birdie? Is that you? Oh my god, it is! Come here!" Phoenix practically squealed with delight as she pulled you in for a bone crushing hug. You winced in her grasp but didn't pull away.

"Oh my gosh girl, let me look at you." Natasha said as she held you at arms length and gave you a once over. "You look amazing. Your hair has gotten so long! Is it possible that you've gotten more beautiful since the last time I saw you?" Nat says. You chuckle and shake your head as she drags leads you by the elbow to more of the waiting Daggers.

"Look who I found, everyone!" She cheers as Hangman, Bob, Payback, Fanboy, and Coyote all greet you. Coyote instantly puts a beer in your hand, and for the next thirty minutes, you tell them what you can about your last deployment.

After a while, you break from the group to go get another drink. You aren't paying attention, and you run into someone else.

You close your eyes and try to reorient yourself as a pair of strong hands steady you. You don't have to look up to know exactly who it is. You would recognize those warm, calloused fingertips anywhere

"Sorry I—"

"Bradley!" You breathe out softly, cutting him off. You look up at him, with a wide smile and eyes bright. He's just as handsome as he was the day you left him.

You hold your breath as you wait for him to respond with the same excitement you have.

"Birdie?" He hesitates as he looks down at you. Your face starts to drop. "You're—you're back." Bradley stutters out with far less enthusiasm that you thought he would have. Your smile drops as you take a step back from him.

"Yeah. I'm back, Bradley. I'm so happy to see you. Aren't you happy to see me?" You ask him hopefully, rocking back on your heels.

"Birdie, I—"

"There you are, honey!" A woman exclaims as she slips herself under Bradley's arm before he can finish.

"Oh, hey." Bradley says as he pulls her to him, still shocked at your appearance.

"Oh, I'm sorry." The perky brunette with a sweet face and a soft smile says as you catch her eye. "I didn't realize Bradley was talking to you. Who's your friend babe?" She asks Bradley.

His eyes dart between the two of you. "Kat, this is Y/N, my uh—" He hesitates.

You swallow thickly. Your tongue feels like sandpaper in your mouth before you speak. "I'm Y/N Monroe, but most people call me Birdie. I'm Bradley's old wingman. We flew together about five years ago. I just got back from a deployment and came to catch up with some old friends." You say to her.

"Oh, wow! That's amazing. I think B has talked about you some. You went through the Top Gun program with him, right?" Kat asks you with genuine interest.

"Yeah." You reply flatly. Bradley clears his throat. "Yeah. So, Birdie, this is Kat, my girlfriend." Bradley breathes out, you can see the sweat on his brow.

"Finaceé, actually." Kat corrects him as she sticks out her and and you see the shiny diamond ring on it. You don't want to, but you shake it. "It's so new, Bradley just proposed last week." She beams.

"That's great. Congrats." You choke out, scanning the room, looking for a way out of this conversation.

"Well, it was nice to meet you, Kat. I haven't had a chance to say hello to Penny and Jimmy, so I'm going to try and do that. I'll see you around, Rooster." You say as you try to walk away.

"Birdie, wait!" Bradley tries to get your attention, but it's too late. You've already slipped through his fingers and disappeared into the crowd.

Your heart was pounding, and your breath was shallow as you sped to your car, racing the tears that threatened to fall. You fumbled with your keys before unlocking your door and slamming it closed.

The moment you were in the safety of your vehicle, you let go, and the tears cascaded down your face as you pounded your hands on the steering wheel. It was your own fault, really, thinking that Bradley would wait on you this long without so much as a phone call to him. You hadn't even told him goodbye all those years ago, but it still hurt.

It hurt seeing him with someone else. It hurt how his face didn't light up with excitement upon seeing you like it once had.

You try to calm yourself down, forcing in some deep breaths, knowing that if you get yourself too worked up, you'll have a panicked attack and make yourself sick.

You run your hands over your face, wiping the mascara colored tears from your face. You swallow and force air into your lungs before jamming your keys into the ignition. You're just about to drive away when you catch sight of your letter box in the passenger's seat.

The knife in your chest plunges a little bit deeper as your as you pull it into your lap. You're silent for a moment as you try to decide what to do with it. You flip the latch and open it, running your fingers over three hundred or so letters that live there. The longer you stare at it, the more the anger builds inside you.

You slam the lid closed and scream. It's loud and agonizing and comes from deep within you as you slap your palms against the painted wood.

You're angry at Bradley, you're angry at the Navy, you're angry at the world, you're angry at yourself for believing you could pick up where you left off.

You sit there and scream and cry until your voice is hoarse. Then, you get out of your car, and in a haze of tears, you storm over to the dumpster behind the Hard Deck and chuck the box into it. Or at least you think you do.

In your fit of sadness, you don't realize that you miss and the box lands haphazardly to the side of the metal bin.

You get back in your car and drive straight home. Once you get inside, you kick off your shoes and flop onto the bed, not bothering to change clothes or take off your makeup. You bury your face in your pillow, ready to wallow in your pool of pity alone until Ziva, your golden lab service dog, curls up beside you in the bed. You wrap your arm around her as you try to calm down.

You sit up and grab your phone. You know it's late on the East Coast, but you need to call your dad. You tap the screen and pull up his contact information. It rings three times before you hear the sleepy and startled voice of your father on the line.

"Y/N, honey, why are you calling so late? Is everything okay?" Your father asks. "Dad." You choke out. "Honey, what's wrong?" Your father asks. You can't see him, but you hear the sound of him shifting to sir up in bed.

"Dad, I think I should come home. I think it was a mistake coming back here." You say tearfully. "Why honey? What's going on? What happened?" He asks you. "Its—I" you don't know what to say, so you blurt it out. "Bradley's engaged!"

"Oh." Your father says softly through the phone. "I know, it's stupid. Thinking that he would wait for me after everything, but I just thought—I don't know what I thought. I just know my heart is broken, and it really isn't his fault. It's mine. I did this to myself." You cry into your phone as Ziva puts her head in your lap.

"Trying to come back to San Diego was a mistake. I think I'm just going to come home and maybe stay with you and Maureen for a while." At the sound of her name, you can hear your stepmother wrestle the phone from your father. "Give me that, Phil." You hear her scold him.

"Y/N Alison Monroe!" Maureen says. "You are most certainly not coming back here. I mean, you're welcome anytime, sweetie, but that's not what I mean. Teaching at Top Gun, inspiring more female aviators, it's been your dream for years! I know that you still love Bradley, and even though I wasn't fortunate enough to know your mother, you and I both know that she wouldn't want you to give up your dream over a boy." Maureen tells you.

"I know, Maur, but Top Gun was a dream of mine before my last deployment. Before—" You trail off and shutter at the memory. "It's just not the same anymore. I mean, how much of a difference can I make if I can't even get in a plane?" You sigh.

"More than you think." Your stepmother says. "Now, I know it's hard, but you can't give up. And if you need me to, I can hop on a flight in the morning, and we can have wine and ice cream by tomorrow evening. I can use your father's points!" She chirps. You can't help but laugh.

"No, it's fine, Maur. Thank you for the pep talk. You're right. I'm sorry I called so late, I just needed to talk to you and dad. "Anytime, darling. Now, go wash your face, drink some water, and get some rest." She tells you. You want to ask her how she knows you still had your makeup on, but you think better of it.

"Okay. Goodnight, you two." You say to them before hanging up.

You do what Maureen tells you and change into some pj's before curling up with Ziva.

...............

That night at the Hard Deck, Bradley can't stop thinking about you. The look on your face when he didn't match your energy, when Kat introduced herself as he fiancée to you, is burned into his mind. You look so sad, so disappointed, so—betrayed.

He knows that you have no right to be angry with, really, the two of you broke up because you were going away on a risky deployment. It was neither of your faults. He thought that you would have moved on, but that look on your face tonight tells him that you didn't.

Honestly, he never thought he would either. But then he met Kat at the grocery store when she asked him to reach something on an upper shelf. She was pretty with soft brown hair and hazel eyes. She was sweet and laughed at his jokes. She was an art teacher at a high school.

She was pretty and smart and kind and didn't have a job that could take her halfway around the world at a moments notice. She was constant, steady. Maybe that's why Bradley had asked her out eight months ago. Maybe that's why he proposed to her last week. Because Kat was the kind of girl, he should be able to see himself marrying and settling down with. But she wasn't you. And maybe that's why even after after eight months of dating and an engagement ring later, they still didn't live together.

You were the last person Bradley had lived with. Hell, he still had a drawer of your things at his place that he couldn't get rid of. He felt like letting Kat move in would erase the last traces of you. But he knew it was coming.

He told himself every day that Kat was great. She'd make a good wife and a good mother someday. He told himself that he loved her.

Only, he didn't really think he was in love with her.

Not the way he was in love with you.

He tried to shake the thoughts from his head and have fun with everyone, but it was different. Just after you'd left the group, Natasha realized that none of them told you about Bradley and Kat. The Daggers stood idly by as they watched the heartbreaking scene unfold before them.

And Kat, poor sweet Kat, had been so nice to you. It's not her fault Bradley never told her the whole truth about you. The weight of the situation hung thick in the air between all of them.

It's no one's fault, really. Not yours, not Bradley's, and not Kat's. It's just a series of unfortunate events. A cruel Shakespearean tragedy of sorts.

..............

Much later that evening, after everyone had left, Maverick was helping Penny close up shop and went to take the trash out. After tossing the bag, he looked down and noticed something. He bent over and picked up a painted wooden box with Bradley's name on it.

He was puzzled by it, so he opened the lid. Inside was a photo of you and Bradley taped to the top. Maverick sighed. He knew it wasn't his place to meddle, but he grabbed the box and took it inside.

Much later, he drove to Bradley's house to give it to him.

"I found this outside the Hard Deck near the dumpster. I'm pretty sure it's something Birdie was going to give to you tonight. It's a bunch of letters it looks like. I didn't read them because that's none of my business. You don't have to do anything with it, but I just thought you should have it." Maverick tells him before handing the box over and walking away.

Bradley takes it up to his bedroom and sits it on his bed. The wood is decorated with flowers and shells and seagulls and different trinkets.

Just like Mav said, it's full of letters, hundreds of them, all addressed to him. Bradley wonders if he should open them and read them, but it's so late, and you probably hate him and didn't mean for him to see these now seeing as you tried to throw them away. So, he tucks the box away in the back corner of his closet, turns off the light, and goes to bed.

...............

The weekend passes quickly for you. As much as you don't want Monday to come. It does. Bright and early, you're showering and putting on your uniform and Ziva's harness. You double-check in your mirror that your pins are straight, your hair is neat, and that your brace that you now have to wear isn't visible through your uniform.

Uncle Beau offers to drive you to base, but you turn him down. You need the twenty minutes of silence to mentally prepare yourself. Ziva is by your side as you walk down the long hallway. You know she can sense your nerves.

You briefly catch the last of your uncle's speech to the Daggers about how you're going to be the new Junior Air Boss, training under him to one day take over his position and about how you'll also be instructing alongside them. Everyone seems excited to have you back. Well, almost everyone.

You can feel his eyes on you as you and Ziva walk to the front of the room. You take your place at the podium, and she heels at your feet, just to your left, ready if you need her, like she's been trained to do.

"Good morning." You greet the room. Rumbles of a greeting come back to you.

"For those of you who are new around here, my name is Commander Y/N Monroe. Call Sign: Birdie. And this is my K-9 Captain Ziva Monroe. Call Sign: Zee. We are excited to be working with all of you." You say as strongly as you can.

After introductions, Maverick addresses the group and dismisses everyone. Your uncle takes you down the hallway and shows you your office and tells you to spend the day getting settled in. You spend most of the morning unpacking the few boxes of personal things you have to make the office less drab. Then you sit to do some paperwork for as long as you can stand it before you flip the hinges on your desk to move it into a standing position.

You're typing away when you knock the file you're working on to the floor. You reach down to pick it up but are stopped by the pain that shoots through you.

You whistle for Ziva, who has been quietly lying in her bed under your window. She perks up and waits for your command. You give it to her, and she carefully walks over to the file and picks it up with her mouth before bringing it to you.

"Good girl, Zee." You praise her and give her a treat before she walks back to her bed, waiting to assist you again.

It's times like these that you're thankful for her. Even though you were hesitant to get her at first, but, you and Ziva have made a pretty great team so far.

You finish up your paperwork early, and you and Ziva decide to sneak out to the flight deck to watch some training. You make sure both of you are wearing your ear protection.

After watching for a while, the Daggers land and make their way towards both of you and saulte. You laugh at it, but hey, it's protocol.

All of you make your way inside chatting before they go to the locker room to shower and change. You go to your office and pack up.

It's later, by the time you get done and you and Ziva are walking back down the long hall. Only, you don't see that the floor in front of you is wet. You slip, and it sends you sprawling face first into the ground.

"Hey, are you okay?" You hear someone call down the hall, great, just what you needed. You struggle to get up, but it's useless.

"Oh, shit, let me help you, Birdie." Bradley says as he runs up to grab your arms and hoist you to your feet.

"Don't touch me! I can do it myself!" You snap at him and push his arms away. You try again to right yourself, but it hurts. You whistle for Ziva, and she begins the well practiced routine of helping you sit up, slide to the wall, and then supporting you as you make it to your feet.

"I didn't know Ziva was a service dog for you. I could have helped you, you know." Bradley says.

"I didn't need your help, Rooster. Have a good afternoon. And if you breathe a word of this to anyone, I'll kill you." You grit out before limping down the hall and leaving Bradley with more questions than before.

Taglist: @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @desert-fern @wkndwlff @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @na-ta-sh-aa @katieshook02 @beyondthesefourwalls @je-suis-prest-rachel @soulmates8 @diorrfairy @eli2447 @xoxabs88xox @djs8891 @roosters-girl @rosiahills22 @dempy @callsign-magnolia @gretagerwigsmuse @lt-spork @seitmai @kmc1989 @bcarolinablr @itsdesiree86 @waywardhunter95 @whatislovevavy @inkandarsenic @mak-32 @dingochef @princess76179 @schoollover @cheyrenee @sebsxphia @sylviebell @marvelouslyme96 @ladylanera @intrinsicreader @maverick-wingman-favorites @tenderly-hopeful-collection @khaylin27 @toomuchfluffs

[femmescripter]

The Blonde & the Brush - A Blonde!Max Maxley Tidbit

Ever since Max became open about his true honey blonde hair, he's been more attentive of caring for his natural golden tresses. Shampooing, conditioning and proper moisturizing routines for his hair/fur type. It's been a new but also exciting adjustment. For so long Max has hidden his hair - either under a hat or with black dye. And now he's being more open about it. But there's one part of his blonde hair/fur that's especially difficult to deal with. His tail. Flexible as he is Max has difficulty reaching around to brush the full length of his tail. And it hurts too much to pull it around to brush. So he can only suck it up with a half-done job, and it's honestly starting to get on the Labradoodle's nerves. When Max vents about his irritation over his grooming struggles to Bradley one day at the skate park, the senior looks from Max and then looks at his long, fluffy blonde tail. Then he looks back at his boyfriend and says something he did not expect to hear. "I can brush your tail." Max blinks in surprise at this. Not that he was offended - but he didn't think Bradley would be up to such a thing, led alone offer it to him. He asks if he's sure as Max's tail is very thick and curly. Bradley assures him that it's fine and even offers Max to come to his room at the Gamma House where they can be alone. The freshman blushes at this, as he's never been alone with Bradley in his room. But Bradley is a gentleman - and is clearly earnest about doing this. So how can he refuse? Later that same day Max arrives at the Gamma House with Bradley, and is immediately greeted by Tank, Slouch, Kevin, Boris, Federico and Shades. Bradley tells his fraternity brothers not to disturb him and Max as they'll be in his room while he brushes Max's tail. Of course the other Gammas all make cooing sounds and kissy faces, which Bradley quickly shoots down by threatening them with cleaning all of the windows of the frat house. Max just giggles at the friends busting each other's chops and follows Bradley to his room. As expected, Bradley's room is the picture of organized opulence. Expensive sports memorabilia, trophies from past accomplishments, family photos and a king-sized bed with silk bed sheets and a thick comforter. The Saluki instructs Max to sit on the bed and Max does so, making sure to lay his tail out flat. Bradley takes a moment to admire Max's tail. It's so gorgeous, just like the rest of his little macaron. The soft curls look like spun gold. And as Bradley gently picked up his tail to hold, he was in awe of how soft it was. He was so tempted to give into his baser canine instincts and shove his face into Max's tail to smell it. But he stayed strong, asking Max for the brush and began to do the job he promised. The pair sat there like that for a good twenty minutes - having pleasant small talk while Bradley brushed the Labradoodle's tail from base to tip. Max was smiling widely from how nice it felt to have his tail fully brushed. And the fact that Bradley, his boyfriend, was taking such good care of him meant a lot. Finally, Bradley finished brushing Max's tail and asked him what he thought. Max stood up in front of the full-length mirror Bradley had in his room to get a good look at his tail and smiled even more. His tail looked well-kept for a change. Amazing how an even brushing can change a person. Max sat down next to Bradley once more and hugged him before leaning up to kiss him softly on the lips. "Thanks, Brad. You're a terrific stylist." The Saluki flushes cherry red all over but tried to maintain a nonchalant bravado as he said it was no problem and that terrific is all he can do. Max just rolled his eyes in amusement but still maintained the hug. And Bradley soon returned the hug back. Since then - it's been Max and Bradley's little tradition of Bradley brushing Max's tail. And Max even returns the gesture by combing Bradley's hair. All around a sweet turn out for what was once a great bother.

I just thought of this, so I hope you all enjoy it! Especially @ashfault2nd who previously made a beautiful bust of Blonde Max from my headcanon. Go check them out!

[jaidens]

pumpkin spice latte w/ extra whip and carmel w/ my baby rooster 😋😋 also completly disregard this plot if you want but seeing rooster after he’s been away yk at top gun for a while so r surprises him >:)))

And want you now, wanna need you forever In the heat of your electric touch, mm-mm

pairing [s] : bradley bradshaw x reader

warning [s] : mentions of : crying, making out, sex |

a/n [s] : my baby doll dal 🫶 requests are open!

It had been six continuous months without seeing your Bradley in real life. The scent of his cologne and musk had disappeared from your bed and his pillow, causing you to go after anything that has reminded you of him. Whenever you were invited to visit him in Top Gun after they were given a three-week break after a joyous win, you decided to immediately take it.

Deciding to not tell Bradley had killed you, as you watched him through the FaceTime call as he slept in a lonely house by himself. You told him your phone was getting repairs to cover up your five hour flight to where he was drafted, it worked surprisingly well. The flight was long, but your discount with it has given you First-Class seats with many helps from flight attendants to try and help your experiences.

When you landed in hot and humid, San Diego you were almost immediately dehydrated. You had called Penny and Maverick to pick you up from the airport, begging to keep everything a secret. Surprisingly, they kept it quiet and Pete told you he had told them he was taking Penny on a date tonight. The nerves were messing with your head as you mess with the hem of your (Bradley’s) Hawaiian shirt. It was a light and soft pink color, and you swore it looked better on him than it did you. Bradley would disagree, saying it was his favorite shirt you had worn.

“Hot as hell here, jeez.” You joke flapping a piece of paper against your face to try and cool yourself down. Even with the extreme cold air blasting on your face, sweat had still dripped from you. You couldn't tell if it was the nerves in your head about seeing Bradley, or the heat. If you had to assume it had probably been both electives. “I know. Bradley pretty much is shirtless half of the time. I’m tired of it.” Amy says next to you, tapping on her phone.

You laugh as you think of Bradley, who is extremely typical to get naked when it's over 95 degrees outside. You decided to call Jessica, Hangman's long-term girlfriend who had also decided to surprise her big hunk of man on the same day as you. She told you how the pilots were meeting at The Hard Deck and how most of the Navy wives were doing the same. You agreed with her and told Penny and Maverick to take you there for him.

Suddenly it all started to hit you: You would see Bradley in under three minutes after months of missing, crying, and taking screenshots of him on the phone. Maverick pulls into the sandy deck of the bar and parks the car. He looks in the mirror and looks at you. “You ready, kid?” He asks and you nod, opening the door and following after the older woman who had already been walking in. The bar wasn't that crowded, only having pilots and other people that had gotten off of work earlier. It was five o'clock when you landed, so now it was six.

The bar is playing some eighties hits loudly, some rowdy people dancing around with drinks in their hands. You touch yourself up in your phone camera, take a big breath in, and start walking into the back corner of the bar where the pilots stayed. That's whenever you saw Bradley, whooping and hollering about winning the 8-ball game with Phoenix and Bob. Jake and Jessica are rubbing up against each other, kissing and hugging on every second, looking like high school couples in the hallways.

You walk up behind Bradley and when he bends over to hit a ball, you slam up behind and put your hands in the front pockets of his 1980s Levi's jeans. “Wanna teach me how to play?” You tease and Bradley jumps up and wraps you in his arms. His hand goes to the back of your neck and he practically jumps while practically screaming your name in pure and utter excitement at your presence.

“You didn't tell me you were coming!” He pulls away for a second to look at your face, before pulling you back in and wrapping harder around your body. The feeling envelopes you tightly and you feel the need to melt in his arms. “It's a surprise, dummy. Are you surprised?” You ask and now he's nodding quickly before he drops you down and kisses you harshly. His lips are running across you as he pulls you into a bench in the other corner.

“Am I surprised? Of course!” He says sassily at you and brings you back into a deep kiss, his hand messing with the hem of your Hawaiian shirt and the other against your neck as he holds you up in the kiss with him. He's warm and touchy throughout the sweet moment and he takes like a Cranberry Vodka. “Love you, so much.”

“Awh, I love you too honey.” Your hand runs through his fluffy hair that's been lightened from hours of sun, and you stare at this tan skin with freckles littering against his cheeks and nose. His fingers mess with the rips on your shorts and he kisses against your cheek. “God, I missed you so much.” Jessica waves at you and giggles as Jake kisses her away from attention. You laugh at his antics before Bradley pulls your chin and kisses you once more, and you stare into his deep green eyes.

“Thank you for visiting, so much.” Bradley speaks softly in your ear. “Always, and forever when I can.”

[mynameismckenziemae]

can you do a bob x reader? anything w protective bob? i’m a sucker for a “who did this to you?” trope🤭 i trust your creativity and writing, take any liberties!!

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! A-hole ex boyfriends, talks of previous domestic abuse, violence, blood, (non consensual) derogatory language, a little smutty-smut at the end.

This is a bonus scene from Ain’t No Sunshine When She’s Gone (first chapter here)

________________________________________

“We’re meeting the caterers at the venue at 5 but otherwise we don’t have anything planned for today,” you tell Bob as you brush mascara on your lashes.

You were back home in Minnesota with Bob for a long weekend to see family and do some wedding planning.

“What would you do on a cold rainy day growing up?” Bob asks, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Roller skating, but the rink closed shortly after I graduated high school, otherwise we’d go to the mall or the movies. That’s actually where I had my first kiss with Andrew Fischer,” you sigh dreamily just to tease him.

He’s on to you though and pinches your butt. “Can I take you to the movies?”

“I’d love that. Maybe you’ll get a kiss too, if you’re lucky.”

________________________________________

“I’ll drop you by the door and meet you inside after I park,” Bob says as he pulls into the lot.

“Thanks, not sure you’d want to be seen with me if my hair were to get wet,” you laugh as you check it in the mirror. Your hair was a curly mess on a good day; the humidity was making it borderline out of control.

He shifts into park and grips your knee before you get out. “I love your hair, and there’s nothing about you that would make me embarrassed to be seen with you, Sun.”

You’d been kidding but the reassurance was always nice.

“Love you,” you smile and press a kiss to his lips. “Meet you in there.”

________________________________________

You wait in the quiet lobby, humming to yourself while you watch for Bob.

“Sunny?”

A cold chill runs down your spine at that voice.

“Hi Di-Derek,” you say, almost calling him dickhead (Bradley’s fitting nickname for your ex-boyfriend).

You haven’t seen him since you caught him in bed with another woman and were happy to see he looks awful

“I thought that was you, I thought I’d say hi since I was walking past. What are you doing here? Last I heard you were still in Cali, fucking some guy in the army,” he says casually, like what he just said isn’t extremely offensive.

“I-I’m not…we’re-,” you stutter but trail off as he keeps talking, stepping closer as your back hits the wall.

“You know, you could lose a few pounds, and fix this god-awful hair,” he says, tugging none too gently on a strand, smiling at your wince. “Otherwise you look good. I’d still fuck you.”

“I suggest you back away from my fiancé,” Bob says lowly from behind you both.

“Fiancé? Why didn’t you say so?” Derek laughs in your face before pushing away from you and turning to Bob. “I’m Derek, Sunny’s-“

“Pathetic ex who cheated on her,” Bob finishes for him.

Derek’s fuming as he laughs cruelly. “Can you blame me? I know she was cheating on me too. Always gone, always begging for other guys' attention like the slut-“

You flinch at the sickening crack of his nose when Bob’s fist meets his nose.

“What the fuck?! You’re gonna regret that. I’m calling the cops,” he sputters as he reaches for his phone, blood pouring from his obvious broken nose.

“I wouldn’t do that, Derek,” you say, finding your voice. “Unless you want to be sitting in jail too.”

“Why?! He hit me?!” He says, shaking with rage as he tries to stem the flow of blood with his coat sleeve.

“Remember that night at the Hard Deck? When you grabbed my arms and slammed my head against the wall? Not only do I have pictures of the bruises you left but Penny has the video of it too,” you say, proud that your voice isn’t trembling.

“I barely touched your arms! And I didn’t slam your head against-whatthefuckever, it doesn’t matter anyway—that was months ago! It wouldn’t hold up in court,” he argues.

“Maybe, maybe not. But Bob here is one of those ‘top 1% naval aviators’ along with Bradley and Jake-who haven’t gone after you only because I said not to. You have no idea what lengths the Navy would go to protect them and how easily things can get swept under the rug,” you saw lowly.

His face pales when he realizes your implication and scrambles to his feet, muttering a half-assed apology before running outside.

Bob checks you over before wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

You shake your head, “I’m okay. I never cheated on him, you know that, right?” You murmur against his chest.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I know you didn’t. Do you want to get out of here?”

You take a deep breath. “No, I’m not going to let him ruin our day.”

________________________________________

“Is your hand okay?” You ask as you take your assigned seats.

“Yeah it’s fine, I didn’t hit him that hard.”

“Hard enough to break his nose,” you laugh. “It’s gonna hurt like a bitch when they set it.”

“Good,” he says darkly.

“Was that the first time you’ve punched someone?”

“Besides when I was a kid fighting with my brother? Yeah.”

The previews start but you can’t seem to forget how hot it was when Bob didn’t hesitate to defend you. It reminded you of something.

“Do you remember the night we met and you scared of that jackass who called me a whore at the Hard Deck?” You whisper.

“Yeah, I remember everything from that night,” he responds, brushing hair off your forehead.

You smile. “Then you remember what I said after?”

His eyes darken as he recalls. “You said too bad we’d just met because you wanted to get on your knees to show your gratitude.”

You nod as you sink to your knees in front of him.

“Right now? Here?” He whispers as he looks around. But it’s just the two of you in the empty theater.

He’s already hard when pull him out of his gray sweatpants. You waste no time and use your hands with your mouth to work him over.

His head falls back with a low groan as he cums, filling your mouth as the opening credits come across the screen.

Just as you sit back down, an elderly couple enters the theater, sitting just a few seats over.

You can’t help but giggle when Bob shakes his head with a chuckle of his own.

________________________________________

Later you send a message to the group chat as Bob drives to the caterer.

Sunny: Guess who we saw today?

Rowan: Please don’t say Derek.

Sunny: It was Derek.

Bradley: *dickhead.

Sunny: Yeah…I almost called him that 😬

Bradley: Why didn’t you?

Sunny: I was waiting for Bob to park and he kinda had against the wall.

Bob parks and checks his phone.

Bob: He literally had her against the wall when I walked in.

Nat: OMG Sunny! Are you okay? Did he hurt you?

Rowan: Holy shit! Are you alright?!

Jake: What the fuck?! I’m gonna fucking kill him. I should’ve that night.

Bradley: ^Agreed.

Sunny: It’s okay. I was a little shaken up but I’m okay too.

Rowan: Thank God. How’d you get him to leave you alone?

Sunny: Bob rearranged his face with his fist ☺️

Jake: HELL YEAH!

Bradley: That’s my boy!

Nat: Just when I thought I couldn’t love you more Bob. 😍

Jake: Hey!

Nat: 😘

Rowan: Hahaha that’s awesome! Did he call the cops though? I could definitely see him calling the cops

Bob: He was going to until Sunny put him in his place.

Sunny: I brought up the pictures I took of the bruises and the video Penny sent me. I also told him how Jake and Bradley would have no problem going after him. I might’ve also said that the Navy wouldn’t hesitate to cover for them too 🤫

Jake: Fuckin ‘a right!

Bradley: I’d gladly sit in prison for that.

Rowan: ^That’s fine, but only if there are conjugal visits

Bradley: Duh 🙄

Rowan: Watch it Bradley…

Bradley: Yes ma’am 🫡

Jake: Gross…

Jake: Kidding, please go on. I wanna see how this plays out.

Nat: ^Agreed🍿

Sunny: Lolol I love you guys.

You silence your phone with a smile as Bob opens your door and offers his hand.

________________________________________

A/N: I hope I did it justice @lexixstewart

Tagging (please lmk if I’m annoying you by tagging you! I’ll take you off my taglist!):

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