#BRING BACK RED ROOSTER
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Driving thru Roxy Park and seeing taco bell and Carl Jr 🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪
#fuck offfffffff#my ramblings#BRING BACK RED ROOSTER#ITS AT LEAST A REGIONAL CONGLOMERATE ASIA PACIFIC#GET THIS YANK SHIT OUT MY BURBA#THEY SHOULD BE HUGE ASS KEBAB SHOPS
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The return of Agent Washingtub
#bringing this back to celebrate my 10th tumblrversary since it was a really wonderful experience seeing it trend weekly during season 13#I also can't believe I was willing to draw any piece of a halo armor for a joke#red vs blue#rvb#agent washington#rooster teeth#fanart#art#my art#artflair
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I’d love to see a jake seresin x secret wife au. The dagger squad doesn’t realize he’s married until Phoenix invites reader out to the bar with them! Thanks you’re the best!!
You're reminded just how little you know Natasha when she invites you out for drinks, and you end up at the bar adjacent to the naval base. You've been inside only once with Jake before, when you were still dating and he was going through training at top gun. Now he's a graduate, and the place brings back fond memories. You've chatted, of course, when she stops by for breakfast at the bakery you work for, but you've never discussed her career before.
"Hope you don't mind we're close to base," She grins, "My friends wanted to meet here, and I get free drinks 'cause the bartender likes me. They have this bell system to embarrass all the assholes here, and I think I ring it more than she does."
"I've been here before," You admit, tentatively grabbing her arm as she weaves through the crowd, "My husband and I came here once, a long time ago. I don't think the bartender was a woman, though."
"She just bought the place a few years ago," Natasha nods, sliding onto a stool at the bar, "Careful, don't put your phone on the bar."
You tuck the device safely away in your pocket as a brunette woman turns to you, a sweet smile on her face as she recognizes Natasha.
"Hey, Phe," She hums, and you don't have time to ask what the nickname means, "Brought a friend?"
"I'm Y/N," You introduce yourself, noting that they seem like close friends, "It's nice to meet you. I'm Penny."
You nod and beam at her when she offers you an identical bottle of beer to the one Natasha takes. You decline, though, ordering your usual instead. Jake's out with his friends tonight, but he's pledged to be a responsible drinker in case you need to be picked up from your girls' night.
"Can I get, uh," Natasha peers through the crowd, turning back when you assume she's found her target, "Five more?"
"Fanboy's got one already," Penny hums, taking four chilled bottles from beneath the counter, "You want help carrying them?"
"We're good!" You wrap one hand around two bottles, trusting Natasha to lead you towards her friends in the hectic crowd. You don't remember it being this busy when you'd come with Jake, maybe the new management really helped.
She treks you all the way over to a pool table along the wall, where a few men in jeans and t-shirts are huddled. You're taken by surprise, though you're not sure why. You'd automatically assumed her friends would be women, and you wonder if that's concerning. Possible internal bias aside, you smile at the men who stand to greet you.
"Hello," You wave, handing off beers to the two that meet you first,"I'm Y/N, you're Natasha's friends?"
"We are," A tall man grins, holding a hand out for you to shake now that it's not wrangling beers, "I'm Reuben. But you can call me Payback, if you want."
Natasha still has one of the beers in her hands, and you hear the man beside her, who she greets as Fanboy, mention something about the bathroom. Apparently you still have someone to meet.
You refocus on Reuben, "Payback," You tilt your head slightly to the side, "Is that a callsign? Are you a pilot?"
"We all are," The man who'd taken the other beer from you nods along with Payback, a burnt red mustache on his lip, "Natasha's is Phoenix. And I'm Rooster."
Your stomach drops.
"Wait, uh- Rooster? And- and Phoenix, and Payback," Your head spins slightly with recollections of Jake's crazy work stories, and you take a step back, "Are you- you're all stationed to this base?"
"Temporarily," Rooster frowns, "Hey, are you okay?"
"My husband-" You don't get the words out before he emerges from the bathroom, stopping dead in his tracks with a furrow in his brow that wrinkles his forehead.
"Darlin'?" He calls, just loud enough to be heard over the music.
"Jake?" You're equally incredulous, "I- these are the friends you're going out with?"
"Yeah, I-" He wanders closer, still at a general loss for words, "You know Phoenix?"
"Natasha gets breakfast at the bakery," You breathe, now that he's close enough to hear your dumbfounded murmur. You have an audience, but you don't care, not as Jake's confused expression melts into a sheepish smile.
"Well, small world. You look stunning tonight, honey."
"Thanks," You grin bashfully, keeping one hand on your drink and using the other to cup his cheek, tugging him down into a quick kiss. No matter how chaste it is, it gets a reaction.
"Oh," Fanboy gawps, "You're- her husband? You- Hangman, dude, you're married?"
"I am," Jake hums, ringing an arm around your waist and taking the beer from Natasha that she's too shock-stricken to hand to him. He pops the cap off on the edge of the pool table, bringing the fizzing mouth to his lips for a swig. He swallows, "Six years and counting."
"You're married to Hangman," Natasha- er, Phoenix repeats, "You married him?"
"Uh, I did," You laugh, twisting the ring on your finger.
"He never wears a ring," Rooster narrows his eyes at Jake accusatorily, "What, you're keeping her hidden away or something?"
"No," Jake scoffs, "It kept getting dirty when I was doing maintenance on my jet. I keep it on my dog tags, Bradshaw."
He brandishes the chain with both his ID and wedding band on it, and Rooster takes a swig of beer in response.
"How the hell was I supposed to know that, man? I don't stare at your chest in the locker room."
"Well you're missin' out," Jake drawls, turning to grin at you, "Ain't that right, honey?"
"Jake," You hiss, "Not here!'
"Oh, don't get all fussy. Most of these guys have seen my dick," He waves a dismissive hand in the air, nearly spilling his beer. You swear you hear someone mumble, 'unfortunately', but Jake drowns them out, "They don't care if we flirt. Hey, whaddya say we sharpen up those pool skills of yours?"
"Alright," You nod, letting him lead you over to the table, "Natasha, can you hold my drink?"
She takes it like it's her duty to protect you, even though your big strong husband has just bent you over the pool table. It takes you a few tries to be able to hit the ball at all with your clumsy grip on the cue, but when it finally cascades the colorful targets around the table, Jake whoops, landing a congratulatory smack to your ass that his friends groan at.
"Nice goin', darlin'. Gonna beat Bradshaw into the ground in no time."
#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin imagine#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin x you#jake seresin x y/n#hangman#hangman x reader#hangman x you#hangman x y/n#hangman fanfiction#hangman imagine#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin imagine#jake hangman seresin fanfiction#jake hangman seresin x you#jake hangman seresin x y/n#top gun x reader#top gun maverick x reader
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What ruined this Christmas so quickly? Lies.
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x wife!reader
Summary: Just a few weeks before Christmas all goes downhill. You're left taking care of the kids and leaving work early and now your husbands brings up the topic of moving as soon as possible to San Diego. You're overwhelmed but he's willing to go no matter the lies he told.
Warnings: Mentions of throwing up, mentions of sickness, lies, overwhelmed reader, arguments
Word count: 8.4k
The soft hum of Bradley’s Bronco pulling into the driveway was a familiar sound, one that always made your heart skip. You glanced at the clock on the wall—6:45 PM.
He was home right on time.
The winter sun had already set, leaving the house bathed in the warm glow of lamplight. The faint scent of chicken soup wafted from the kitchen, where you'd left a pot simmering, just in case Judy's cold appetite returned.
Anna was perched on the couch, her tiny legs swinging as she clutched one of her plush animals to her chest. "Daddy's home!" she exclaimed, leaping up and running to the front door with the kind of uncontainable excitement only a four-year-old could manage.
You heard the front door creak open and then Bradley’s voice, deep and familiar, “Where’s my Anna Banana?”
Anna squealed with delight, her laughter echoing through the house as she threw herself into his waiting arms. Bradley lifted her easily, planting a kiss on her forehead. “Did you save me any trouble today, or were you full of mischief as usual?”
“Full of mischief!” Anna giggled, resting her head on his shoulder as he stepped inside and kicked the door shut with his boot.
"Of course you were," he teased with a smirk, glancing at you over her head. “Hey, hot stuff.”
“Hey,” you greeted, a soft smile spreading across your face as you leaned against the archway leading to the living room. “Dinner’s on the stove if you’re hungry.”
“Perfect. I’ll grab a bite after I check on Judy.” He set Anna down gently, ruffling her curls before heading toward the living room, where Judy was sprawled on the couch.
Your oldest was curled up under a blanket, her nose a little red and a tissue box within arm’s reach, vomit bowl to the side. Her favourite Real Madrid hoodie hung loosely on her small frame, the oversized sleeves nearly swallowing her hands. Her eyes lit up, though, when she saw her stepdad walk in.
“Hey, Jude,” Bradley said softly, kneeling beside the couch. It always warmed your heart the way he said her nickname, a perfect blend of affection and playfulness.
“Hi, Roo,” she croaked, her voice raspy from the cold. She reached up to tug on the front of his uniform shirt. “Real Madrid won today. Bellingham scored again.”
Bradley chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. “I heard. Kid’s on fire, huh?”
Judy nodded weakly but managed a small grin. “I told you he’s the best. But he still takes weird pictures sometimes.”
That made Bradley laugh, a deep, warm sound that filled the room. “Weird pictures or not, I think your dad would’ve loved hearing you talk about Real Madrid like this.”
Judy’s face softened, her smile widening slightly at the mention of her biological dad. “You think so?”
“I know so,” he said firmly. “Now, how about we make sure you’re taking care of yourself so you can get better and keep watching him score goals?”
Judy nodded, leaning into his touch as he pressed a kiss to her temple. “Deal.”
From the hallway, Anna peeked in, clearly feeling left out. “Can I sit with Judy, too?”
Bradley turned his head and grinned. “If Judy’s okay with it, sure.”
Judy nodded, patting the spot beside her, and Anna climbed up eagerly, snuggling under the blanket with her big sister. Bradley stood, stretching slightly before heading back to you.
“How’s Theo?” he asked, his voice lowering so he wouldn’t wake the baby.
“Asleep, for now,” you replied, tilting your head toward the baby monitor on the counter. “He went down about thirty minutes ago. Let’s hope it sticks.”
Bradley grinned and leaned down, pressing a kiss to your lips. “You’re too good, you know that?”
You laughed softly, brushing a hand along his arm. “Sure. Now, go eat before the soup gets cold.”
As Bradley settled into his chair at the dining table, you brought him a steaming bowl of soup. He murmured a quiet thanks before picking up his spoon, glancing at you as you moved to lean against the counter.
“How was work today?” he asked between bites, his warm brown eyes flicking up to meet yours. “Everything okay with you leaving early?”
You hesitated for just a moment, your hand brushing over the edge of the counter. “It’s fine,” you said casually, offering a small shrug. “Nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow.”
Bradley frowned slightly, setting his spoon down for a moment. “You sure? That’s, what, the third time this week? Last week you had to take a couple of days off because of Anna, too.”
You sighed, crossing your arms. “Bradley, it’s no big deal. It’s not like we’re behind on anything. I had everything under control before I left.”
He tilted his head, studying you carefully. “That doesn’t mean you can't call me, you know.”
You pushed off the counter with a small laugh, brushing past him to gather up Anna’s pyjamas from a nearby basket. “I’m fine, Rooster. Seriously. It’s not like I’m doing it alone—you’ve been pulling your weight, too.”
His lips quirked up in a small, understanding smile, but he didn’t push. Instead, he returned to his meal, watching as you disappeared briefly into the living room to remind Anna about her bedtime routine.
“Annabelle,” you called, leaning over the back of the couch. “Fifteen minutes until you’re brushing your teeth. No nap today means an early bedtime, remember?”
“Okay, Mommy,” Anna replied with a sigh, snuggling closer to Judy under the blanket.
“And Judy,” you added, brushing a hand over Judy’s head, “I didn’t forget our deal—you can stay up a little later tonight, but only if you rest here for now, okay?”
Judy nodded with a tired but satisfied smile. “Thanks, Mom.”
You returned to the kitchen just as Bradley finished his bowl, pushing it aside with a satisfied sigh. “That hit the spot,” he said, standing to place the empty dish in the sink.
“Glad you liked it,” you said, leaning against the counter as he moved closer to you.
Bradley turned, placing his hands on either side of your waist, and gave you a thoughtful look. “Once all the kids are down for the night,” he said softly, his voice dipping to that warm, familiar tone he used when something was on his mind, “I’ve got something to tell you.”
Your brows knit together in curiosity. “Oh?”
He smiled, brushing a stray hair out of your face. “Yeah. Nothing bad, I promise. But… let’s get through bedtime first.”
Your lips curved up in a small smile as you leaned into him for a moment. “Alright, Bradshaw. But now you’ve got me wondering.”
He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Patience, sweetheart.”
With that, he turned back toward the living room, his voice playful as he called out to Anna, “Alright, Bananas, let’s get those teeth brushed before your mom tells me I’m slacking.”
Anna’s giggles filled the house as she bolted from the living room, her tiny feet pattering up the stairs as Bradley’s playful growl followed closely behind.
“Anna Banana, you get back here!” he called, his boots thudding against the hardwood as he gave chase. “We’re brushing those teeth whether you like it or not!”
“You can’t catch me, Daddy!” she yelled between bursts of laughter, the sound so joyful it made you smile despite the exhaustion lingering from the day.
Shaking your head, you turned back to the kitchen and grabbed Bradley’s empty bowl from the table, rinsing it under warm water before adding it to the dishwasher. The soup pot still sat on the stove, its comforting aroma hanging in the air. You ladled the leftovers into a container, snapping the lid on before slipping it into the fridge.
Judy wouldn’t be eating any tonight—you knew her appetite was still weak from the cold. You sighed softly as you wiped down the counter, taking a moment to glance toward the baby monitor. Theo was still sound asleep, his soft snores faintly audible through the speaker. At least one of your kids was making bedtime easy tonight.
With the kitchen clean and quiet, you dried your hands and made your way to the living room, where Judy lay nestled under the blanket. Her Real Madrid hoodie was slightly bunched up, and her face was still flushed from her cold, but her eyes brightened when she saw you approaching.
“Hey, Judy bug,” you said gently, sinking down beside her. “You feeling okay?”
She nodded, scooting closer to you. “I’m just tired,” she admitted softly.
“I know,” you said, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into your side. She fit perfectly against you, her small body warm and familiar. “But remember, we made a deal. You’re allowed to stay up a little longer, as long as you take it easy.”
Judy smiled faintly, leaning her head on your shoulder. “Thanks, Mom.”
You pressed a kiss to her temple, brushing some hair away from her face. “Anytime, Judy.”
For a few minutes, the house was quiet except for the distant sound of Bradley trying to wrangle Anna into brushing her teeth. You chuckled under your breath as Judy let out a small laugh.
“Rooster’s not very good at catching Anna,” she murmured, her voice raspy but amused.
“Nope,” you agreed, squeezing her gently. “But he’s trying his best.”
Judy’s giggle was soft but heartfelt, and you cherished the moment, knowing it wouldn’t be long before all three kids were asleep and the house finally settled into peace for the night.
Judy shifted against you as you tucked the blanket tighter around her shoulders, her small hand reaching for the remote on the coffee table. The soft thud of Anna’s bedroom door closing upstairs brought a sense of relief; Bradley had clearly won the bedtime battle. You smiled to yourself, imagining how he’d probably managed to wrangle her into bed with one of his goofy voices or a quick rendition of a lullaby she insisted he sing.
From above, you heard the bathroom door open and the unmistakable sound of the shower turning on. That man earned his fifteen minutes of peace after chasing Anna around.
“What do you say we watch something before bed?” you asked, glancing down at Judy.
Her eyes lit up slightly, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Can we watch The Grinch?”
“You’re still in a Christmas mood, huh?” you teased, but you didn’t mind. Judy had always loved the story, and it had become a tradition to watch it at least ten times every December.
She nodded, snuggling closer to your side as you leaned forward to grab the remote. It only took a few clicks before the familiar opening notes of The Grinch filled the room, and the glow of the television bathed the two of you in soft light.
As the movie started, you glanced down at Judy. Her eyes were focused on the screen, though you could tell she wasn’t quite as energetic as usual. Her cold was still zapping her strength, but she looked content, nestled under the blanket and leaning into you for warmth.
The two of you sat quietly, watching as the Grinch made his first grouchy appearance. Judy chuckled faintly at his antics, her laugh muffled by the blanket she’d half-pulled over her face.
Upstairs, you could still hear the shower running, the steady hum of water a comforting backdrop to the cozy moment. It was one of those rare evenings where, despite the chaos of the day, everything felt peaceful—just you and your daughter, sharing a quiet moment together while Bradley unwound upstairs.
You let out a soft sigh of contentment, wrapping your arm a little tighter around Judy. Nights like this, you thought, were what made all the hard days worth it.
As the Grinch grumbled on screen about Christmas cheer, your phone buzzed on the coffee table, the screen lighting up with a call from work. You sighed, glancing at the number. It wasn’t unusual for work to call after hours, but it still pulled you out of the cozy moment with Judy.
Judy turned her head toward you, her brows furrowing. “Mom, do you have to go?” she asked softly, her voice still scratchy from her cold.
You gave her a reassuring smile and smoothed her hair back. “No, bug, I’m not going anywhere. I just need to take this call, okay? Roo will be downstairs in a couple of minutes. Can you hold tight until then?”
She nodded, though she still looked a little disappointed. “Okay.”
You kissed her forehead before standing and grabbing your coat from the rack by the door. Wrapping it around your shoulders, you stepped onto the front porch, the cold night air biting against your skin. The faint scent of pine from the wreath on the door lingered, and you pulled your coat tighter as you tapped to accept the call.
“This is YN,” you answered, your breath puffing in the chilly air.
The person on the other end quickly launched into their reason for calling—some minor crisis involving a data set that had apparently gone haywire. You listened intently, nodding even though they couldn’t see you, while mentally sorting through solutions.
As you paced the porch, the front door opened, and Bradley stepped out, fresh from his shower. His damp hair was tousled, and he’d pulled on a well-worn hoodie and sweatpants. He glanced at you curiously, then stepped back inside, letting the door click shut behind him.
A few moments later, you wrapped up the call, offering quick instructions and assurances that you’d look at the problem first thing in the morning. You hung up and exhaled deeply, allowing the crisp night air to clear your thoughts.
When you stepped back inside, Bradley was in the living room, crouched next to Judy. He’d wrapped an arm around her, his other hand resting on the blanket tucked snugly around her. Judy looked a little brighter already, smiling up at him as she pointed something out on the screen.
Bradley looked up as you closed the door, his warm eyes meeting yours. “Everything okay?” he asked, his voice soft so as not to disturb the moment.
You nodded, offering him a tired smile. “Crisis averted. Thanks for stepping in.”
“Anytime,” he said, patting the spot next to him on the couch. “Come sit. We saved your spot.”
The warmth in his voice and the sight of your little family waiting for you melted the tension from your shoulders. You slipped off your coat, letting it fall onto the back of a chair, and joined them, ready to soak in the rest of the evening.
As the Grinch continued plotting on the screen, you noticed Judy start to rub her eyes. Her head had begun to droop a little, and not long after, she let out a soft yawn.
Bradley, ever observant, caught it instantly. A teasing grin spread across his face as he looked down at her. “Uh-oh,” he said dramatically, “sounds like someone’s ready for bed. What do you think, Judy? Time to head upstairs?”
Judy’s head shot up, her tired eyes narrowing as she frowned at him. “No, it’s not! My bedtime’s 8:30, and it’s only 8!”
“Hmm,” Bradley drawled, tapping his chin in mock contemplation. “I don’t know. That yawn says otherwise.”
“It doesn’t count!” Judy protested, sitting up straighter and fixing him with her best determined glare. “I’m not tired. I can stay up for The Grinch. You promised!”
Bradley chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. You’ve got until 8:30. But if I catch you yawning again, we might have to renegotiate.”
Judy crossed her arms, trying to look serious but failing as a small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “You’re so dramatic, Rooster.”
“Me? Dramatic?” he asked, feigning offense. “I’m just concerned about your beauty sleep, Jude. I’m looking out for you.”
Judy rolled her eyes, but you could see the playful affection in her expression. “You’re such a weirdo.”
Bradley laughed, pulling her close and planting a kiss on the top of her head. “That’s me. But you love me anyway.”
She snuggled back against him with a small huff, her earlier defiance fading as she relaxed into his side. You watched the exchange with a smile, your heart full at the sight of their bond.
Bradley caught your gaze and gave you a wink, his hand resting gently on Judy’s shoulder. You could tell he was savouring the moment as much as you were.
Judy had just settled against Bradley’s side, her eyes fluttering back toward the screen, when he lightly placed his hand on her forehead. The smile on his face faded slightly, replaced by a look of concern.
“Hey, Jude,” he said softly, tilting his head to get a better look at her. “You’re feeling a little warm. Are you okay?”
Judy blinked up at him, her brows furrowing as if she hadn’t noticed it herself. “I think so,” she murmured, but then a raspy cough escaped her, and her body tensed.
You immediately perked up, your eyes scanning her face as she began coughing harder. “Judy?” you asked, worry creeping into your tone.
Before she could answer, her hand shot to her mouth, her face paling. Instinct kicked in, and you grabbed the bowl you’d left on the floor beside the couch earlier, knowing her appetite had been off all day.
“Here, sweetie,” you said gently, holding the bowl just in time as Judy leaned forward, the cough turning into a small heave.
Bradley’s arm stayed securely around her, his other hand moving to rub her back as she threw up into the bowl. His voice was soft and steady as he murmured, “It’s okay, Jude. Just breathe, baby girl. We’ve got you.”
You crouched beside them, one hand resting on Judy’s knee as you watched her closely. It didn’t last long, but her little body trembled with the effort, and when she finally leaned back, her face was flushed, and her eyes glassy with exhaustion.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered weakly, her voice barely above a rasp.
“Oh, baby, you have nothing to be sorry for,” you assured her, brushing a hand over her hair as Bradley wiped her mouth gently with the tissue you handed him.
“She’s burning up,” Bradley said quietly, concern etched into his voice as he pressed another hand to her forehead.
You nodded, already moving to grab a cool cloth from the kitchen. “Let’s get her cooled down and check her temperature again,” you said, your mind shifting into problem-solving mode.
Judy leaned heavily against Bradley’s chest, her small frame dwarfed by his protective embrace. “Daddy,” she croaked, her voice barely audible, “I don’t wanna be sick anymore.”
She rarely called him dad, but that was something else.
“I know, Jude,” Bradley said softly, his hand brushing over her hair. “I know. We’re going to take care of you, okay? Just rest for now.”
Judy’s little body eventually gave out from the exhaustion, her head lolling against Bradley’s chest as her breathing evened out into soft snores. You exchanged a quick glance with Bradley, nodding silently toward the stairs.
“I’ll grab the bucket,” you whispered, standing up and heading to the bathroom while he carefully adjusted Judy in his arms.
Bradley lifted her as if she weighed nothing, his large hands supporting her back and legs as he rose from the couch. He cradled her close, his steps slow and deliberate as he started up the stairs, making sure not to jostle her. The soft sound of her breathing mixed with the creak of the floorboards, and it tugged at your heart how small she looked in his arms.
By the time you reached Judy’s room, Bradley was gently laying her down on her bed, taking care to arrange her blankets so she was snug but not too warm. He brushed a hand over her hair, his thumb grazing her forehead again as he sighed quietly.
“She’s still a little warm,” he murmured.
You nodded, setting the bucket beside her bed within easy reach. “I’ll check her temperature again in a couple of hours, just to be sure.”
As you adjusted the bucket, Bradley glanced back at you, his brow furrowed. “She got sick last night too?”
You hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. I thought it was because she decided to have hot chocolate fifteen minutes before bed. She didn’t even tell me until after she’d already made it.”
Bradley’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I didn’t hear a thing. She got sick, and I didn’t wake up?”
You smirked, placing a hand on your hip as you teased, “Roo, you’d sleep through a literal earthquake.”
He let out a soft chuckle, though there was a flicker of guilt in his expression. “Guess I need to work on that. I hate that you were dealing with this by yourself.”
You shrugged, brushing it off lightly. “It wasn’t too bad. Besides, the real fun was earlier today.”
Bradley straightened, his concern sharpening. “What happened?”
You sighed, leaning against the doorway. “She got sick at school. They called me about an hour after I got to work, so I had to come home early to pick her up. She’s been pretty out of it since. I tried feeding her soup earlier, but that didn’t go well either.”
Bradley exhaled deeply, his hands on his hips as he glanced back at Judy, who was now sound asleep, her face still slightly flushed. “Poor kid,” he murmured, running a hand through his damp hair. “She’s had a rough day.”
“Yeah,” you agreed softly, stepping closer to him. “But at least she’s getting some rest now.”
Bradley nodded, reaching out to give your arm a gentle squeeze. “You’ve been handling all of this like a champ. Seriously, YN.”
You smiled at him, leaning into his touch. “We’re a team, remember? You’ll take the next round if she wakes up again tonight.”
“Deal,” he said with a small smile, his eyes flicking back to Judy one last time before wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
As you walked back downstairs with Bradley, the weight of the evening’s events still hung in the air, but your mind wandered back to his earlier words—I have something to tell you. You gave him a curious look as you both stepped into the kitchen, where he leaned casually against the counter, though there was an unmistakable tension in his posture.
“So,” you said, crossing your arms and leaning against the opposite counter. “What’s this big thing you wanted to talk about?”
Bradley exhaled deeply, rubbing the back of his neck in a way that instantly made you wary. He was stalling. “Alright, don’t freak out,” he started, his eyes flicking to yours. “But there’s a chance we might be moving again… before the end of December.”
You stared at him, utterly floored. “You’re kidding.”
He shook his head, his lips pressing into a tight line. “I wish I was.”
“Bradley,” you said, your voice rising slightly in disbelief, “we’ve only been in this house for three months. Three months! And it’s almost Christmas! How are we supposed to pack up and leave—again?”
He winced at the exasperation in your tone, holding up his hands defensively. “I know, I know. Believe me, I’m not thrilled about the timing either. But I think this might be the last time. I mean it.”
You raised a sceptical eyebrow. “That’s what you said the last two moves. And the time before that.”
He nodded, his jaw tightening. “I know. But this is different. I got a call about going back to Top Gun—to San Diego. They need me there, and they’re offering some stability. A more permanent position, YN. I’d be working with my old crew again, the same people I did the uranium mission with.”
You blinked at him, your mind spinning. “San Diego?” you echoed, trying to process the implications. “Bradley, we’ve moved five times in the last four years because of your job. Every time, it’s been the same story—‘this is the last one, we’ll settle down here.’ How can you be sure this time?”
“I can’t be sure,” he admitted, his voice soft but steady. “But I know how much we’ve been through, and I know what I’m asking isn’t easy. But Top Gun feels like home to me. The team, the work—it’s different there. It’s something I know I can grow with long-term.”
You stared at him, still feeling blindsided. “And you think we can do this in the middle of the holidays? We’d have to uproot the kids—again. Judy’s been sick, and Anna just started getting comfortable here.”
“I know it’s asking a lot,” he said, stepping closer and placing his hands on your arms. “But I think San Diego could be a real chance for us. The base there is more stable, and I wouldn’t be deploying as much. I’d be home more—for you, for the kids.”
Your shoulders sagged as you took in his words. You wanted to believe him, but the exhaustion of endless moves, the packing, unpacking, and constant uncertainty weighed heavily on you.
“And this is all happening before the end of December?” you asked, your voice quieter now.
Bradley nodded, his expression apologetic. “There’s still a lot to figure out, but yeah. They need me soon. I just… I wanted to talk to you about it first. I wouldn’t make this decision without you.”
You let out a long breath, running a hand through your hair. “Bradley, this is a lot. I don’t even know where to start.”
He nodded again, squeezing your arms gently. “I know it is. Take some time to think about it, okay? We’ll figure it out together.”
You bit your lip, your thoughts still racing, but you couldn’t ignore the sincerity in his eyes—or the hope. Despite the upheaval it would cause, he truly believed this could be the fresh start you both needed. But whether or not you were ready to believe that too, you weren’t so sure.
You stared at Bradley, the frustration rising in your chest as the weight of his words truly sank in. Shaking your head, you stepped back from his grasp and crossed your arms tightly.
“Bradley, I’m going to say this right now—I’m not moving until after New Year’s,” you said firmly, your voice steady but resolute. “I refuse to spend Christmas in some lousy halfway spot, surrounded by boxes, trying to keep the kids from falling apart. It’s not happening.”
His brows furrowed, and he opened his mouth to respond, but you kept going, your emotions spilling out in waves.
“This constant moving isn’t just exhausting—it’s unhealthy for the kids. Anna’s finally settling in here. She’s starting to make friends, and she’s getting used to the house. Judy’s already switched schools enough for a lifetime. It’s not fair to her to have to keep doing this over and over. She’s nine, Bradley! I thought mine and her fathers job at the start would make her need to move so much but truly it didn't. She needs stability, not a new classroom every year.”
He sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly as he tried to meet your gaze. “I know it’s hard, YN—”
“No,” you interrupted, holding up a hand. “You don’t know how hard it is, Bradley. You’re not the one managing school forms, paediatricians, or trying to help Judy settle in after every single move. You’re not the one cleaning up puke when she gets so stressed she makes herself sick. And on top of that, I have my own job to think about. Do you have any idea how much of a nightmare it is to move space labs? Or how hard it is to get rehired in the same field every time we relocate? What if they don’t even take me this time?”
He frowned, guilt flickering in his expression. “I didn’t think—”
“That’s the problem, Bradley,” you said, your voice softening but still firm. “You didn’t think. You’re chasing stability for yourself, and I get that. I do. But what about us? What about the kids? What about me?”
Bradley ran a hand down his face, clearly grappling with your words. “I thought this would be a good opportunity for all of us,” he admitted quietly. “I thought… maybe it could finally be the place where we can put down roots.”
You let out a shaky breath, willing yourself to stay calm. “If you want to go, fine. Go set things up. But I’m not uprooting this family in the middle of the holidays. The kids deserve a Christmas in a real home, not in a house we haven’t even unpacked yet. And I’m not putting them—or myself—through another rushed move until we know this is going to work.”
He nodded slowly, his jaw tightening as he absorbed your words. “Okay,” he said finally, his voice low. “We’ll wait until after New Year’s. I’ll talk to them, figure out a timeline that works.”
Relief washed over you, though it was tempered by the uncertainty still lingering in the air. You reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly. “I need you to understand, Bradley. This isn’t just about you anymore. It’s all of us. And I can’t keep putting the kids—and myself—through this. And I will go insane if I'll be in another motel for weeks.”
“I get it,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I do. I just… I want to make this work. For all of us.”
You nodded, your gaze steady. “Then let’s figure it out. But after the holidays.”
Bradley’s arms stayed wrapped around you, but as you rested against him, he gently pulled back, his eyes scanning your face with quiet concern. He tilted his head slightly, his voice soft but pointed.
“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked, his tone both curious and insistent.
You hesitated, your gaze flickering to the floor before meeting his again. You’d been holding back, trying to push through for the sake of the evening, but he clearly wasn’t going to let it slide.
“Honestly?” you said, exhaling deeply. “It’s not fine with me that you’re thinking of leaving so soon—especially after I had to miss work last week. I’ve already taken so much time off between Anna being sick, Judy needing to come home early, and everything else. I’m exhausted, Bradley. I’ve had enough.”
His brow furrowed as he stepped closer, his hands resting lightly on your arms. “Then why didn’t you just say that when I asked earlier?”
You bit your lip, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “Because I wasn’t about to argue in front of Judy and Anna,” you said sharply. “They’ve already been through enough tonight. Judy doesn’t need to hear us going back and forth on top of being sick with cruel stomach décor, and Anna’s finally getting settled. I didn’t want to add more stress.”
Bradley sighed, running a hand through his hair as he took in your words. “I get that,” he said softly. “But, YN, I need you to tell me these things. You don’t have to hold it in just to keep the peace.”
“I know,” you replied, your voice quieter now, “but I’m just… tired, Bradley. I don’t feel like moving again. Not until March at the earliest. I’m not ready to pack up, to sort through everything, to start over—again.”
He nodded slowly, his eyes softening as he processed your words. “You feel like you’ve hit your limit,” he said, more a statement than a question.
“Exactly,” you admitted, your shoulders sagging. “I’ve hit my limit. The idea of boxing up this house, pulling the kids out of their routine, and throwing myself into another round of uncertainty—it’s exhausting just thinking about it. I’m not bothered to pack up again right now. I need time.”
Bradley was quiet for a moment, his thumb brushing absentmindedly over your arm as he considered his response. “March,” he repeated, nodding slowly. “Alright. We can make that work. I’ll let them know we need more time.”
“Are you sure?” you asked, meeting his gaze.
“I’m sure,” he said firmly. “I’m not going to push you into something you’re not ready for. If March feels right, then that’s what we’ll aim for.”
Relief washed over you, though a small part of you still felt the weight of what lay ahead. “Thank you,” you murmured.
He pulled you back into his arms, holding you close. “We’ll figure this out,” he promised.
Before you could fully relax into Bradley’s embrace, your phone buzzed again on the counter, cutting through the quiet. You sighed, reluctantly pulling away to check the screen. It was another call from work.
“I should take this,” you muttered, already swiping to answer.
Bradley leaned against the counter, watching you closely as you murmured into the phone, your tone professional but clearly laced with frustration. He caught snippets—something about deadlines, a meeting you couldn’t miss, and some last-minute chaos that had you pinching the bridge of your nose.
When you finally hung up, you turned back to him, running a hand through your hair. “Looks like I’ll be driving down overnight,” you said with a resigned sigh. “I’ve got an early morning meeting anyway, and at this rate, I’ll barely get any sleep if I wait until tomorrow to leave.”
Bradley straightened, his brows knitting together. “Overnight? YN, that’s going to be rough. Are you sure that’s the best idea?”
You shrugged, already mentally planning the drive. “It’s easier this way. I’ll get there before the day starts, and I won’t have to stress about being late.”
He crossed his arms, his concern clear. “I’ve got the day off work tomorrow. I’ll stay here and take care of the kids. You focus on work.”
You blinked at him, a little surprised. “You have the day off?”
“Yeah,” he confirmed, stepping closer. “I’ll handle everything here. Judy’s already home sick, so I’ll keep an eye on her and make sure Anna and Theo are good too. You don’t need to worry about anything on this end.”
The tension in your shoulders eased slightly, and you nodded, grateful for his support. “Okay,” you said softly. “Thanks, Bradley.”
He gave you a small smile, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “Just drive safe, alright? And text me when you get there.”
“I will,” you promised, leaning into his touch for a brief moment before pulling back to start gathering your things. As much as you hated the overnight drive, knowing Bradley would hold down the fort at home made it a little easier to handle.
Bradley climbed the stairs quietly, his mind still on your late-night drive and the conversation the two of you had just shared. But as he passed Judy’s room, a soft, raspy voice caught his attention.
“I don’t mind moving,” she said, her tone small but clear.
He stopped in his tracks, leaning slightly toward the open doorway. A grin tugged at the corner of his lips as he stepped inside, spotting Judy sitting up in bed, her blanket pulled up to her chest.
“Well, well,” he said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. “Sounds to me like someone’s been eavesdropping.”
Judy’s cheeks flushed a little, but she gave him a defiant look, crossing her arms over her blanket. “It’s not eavesdropping, Roo. It’s overhearing. There’s a difference.”
Bradley raised an eyebrow, fighting back a chuckle as he walked over to her bed. “Oh, there’s a difference, huh?” he teased, sitting down on the edge of the mattress. “Pretty sure your mom wouldn’t see it that way. She’d probably have my head if she knew you were listening.”
Judy smiled slyly, leaning back against her pillows. “Good thing she’s not here to find out.”
He laughed softly, shaking his head. “You’re a smart one, Jude, I’ll give you that. But seriously—what are you doing awake? You’re supposed to be sleeping.”
She shrugged, fiddling with the edge of her blanket. “I just… I heard you guys talking, and I wanted to know what was going on. Are we really moving again?”
Bradley sighed, his teasing expression softening. “It’s a possibility,” he admitted. “But nothing’s set in stone yet. Your mom and I are still figuring things out.”
Judy looked down at her hands, quiet for a moment. “I don’t mind moving,” she said again, her voice softer now. “I mean, I like it here, but… if it makes you and Mom happy, I’ll be okay.”
His heart swelled at her words, and he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair from her face. “You’re a good kid, you know that?”
She smiled shyly, her eyes still on her lap. “I try.”
Bradley leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. “Now get some sleep, okay? And no more overhearing—or eavesdropping—or whatever you want to call it.”
“Fine,” she murmured, already snuggling back into her blanket. “Goodnight, Dad.”
“Goodnight, Judy,” he said softly, standing and turning off her bedside lamp before heading to the door. As he glanced back, she was already drifting off, her little body relaxed and peaceful.
Bradley stepped quietly into Theo’s room, the soft glow of the nightlight casting a warm hue over the small space. Theo was curled up in his crib, his chest rising and falling in the rhythmic breaths of deep sleep.
Bradley leaned over the crib, brushing his fingers lightly over Theo’s soft hair. Despite his hesitation, he decided it might be best to have him closer tonight, especially with you driving through the night. Carefully, he slipped his arms under Theo and lifted him, cradling the boy against his chest. Theo stirred slightly but didn’t wake, settling back into his father’s embrace with a soft sigh.
Bradley carried him down the hallway to your shared bedroom. The portable baby mattress was already set up near the bed, and he gently placed Theo down, adjusting the blankets around him. The little boy stretched briefly, then fell back into his peaceful sleep.
Bradley crouched for a moment, watching him, his expression soft with affection. He reached out, tucking the blanket a little more securely before standing.
Moving quietly, Bradley made his way to the small desk tucked into the corner of the room. He sat down heavily in the chair, his elbows resting on the desk as he ran a hand down his face. The day—and the conversations—were catching up with him.
As Bradley sat at the small desk, the quiet hum of the house surrounding him, he pulled out his phone. The group chat with the Dagger Squad lit up with unread messages, the notifications buzzing intermittently.
Payback: So, Rooster, you coming back after New Year’s or what?
Coyote: Yeah, man, don’t leave us hanging. You know Hangman’s already bragging about how he’ll outfly all of us again.
Hangman: Correction, Coyote. I will outfly you all. Don’t need Rooster to confirm that. But hey, Rooster, don’t be scared now—you coming or not?
Bob: It’d be good to have you back, Rooster.
Fanboy: Yeah, you’re part of the team, man. We’re counting on you to bring the mustache magic.
Bradley smirked, shaking his head at their banter. His thumb hovered over the keyboard, debating how to respond.
Phoenix: Give him a break, guys. He’ll let us know when he can.
He hesitated. Phoenix was the only one who knew about his life outside the Navy—his wife, his kids, the constant balancing act he’d been navigating. He hadn’t told the others, not because he didn’t trust them, but because it never felt like the right time. Now, with their texts pressing him for a commitment, the weight of his promise to you settled heavily on his shoulders.
He’d agreed to wait until after the New Year to move the family, but they didn’t need to know that. If he got sent to Top Gun temporarily for a few days, it wouldn’t disrupt the plan too much—would it? He could handle a few days away, fulfil the request, and be back before you’d even finished packing the decorations away.
But then again, keeping this from you didn’t sit right with him. His fingers hovered over the keyboard as he considered his reply.
Rooster: I’ll let you guys know soon. Still working a few things out on my end.
The responses came quickly.
Coyote: Come on, man, you know you wanna fly with the big boys again.
Hangman: “Working things out” sounds like code for chicken. You scared, Rooster?
Fanboy: Ignore him. We’re looking forward to having you back.
Bradley stared at the screen, his mind torn. He knew how much they wanted him back—and if he was honest, he missed flying with them, too. But you had made your stance clear. You didn’t want the chaos of a rushed move or the disruption to your family’s routine, and he couldn’t ignore how much you’d already sacrificed for his career.
The only one who truly understood the bind he was in was Phoenix, and as if on cue, another message from her popped up in the group chat.
Phoenix: Don’t rush it, Rooster. We’ve got time.
Bradley sighed, grateful for her subtle support. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t going to be an easy conversation when the time came to tell you he’d been sent down for even a short stint. For now, though, he tucked the phone away, deciding to deal with it when—and if—it became official.
-
As you parked your car outside the lab, the faint buzz of your phone caught your attention. You glanced at the screen, seeing a text from Bradley pop up.
Rooster: Hey, just got an email—orders came through. I have to head back to Top Gun the day after New Year’s. Just for a few days to test some equipment.
You frowned, your fingers lingering over the steering wheel. He’d softened the blow, but the sting of his words remained. After all the back and forth, the long conversations, and the arguments about waiting until the New Year to avoid uprooting everything again, this felt like a sudden change. Still, you trusted him—if it was orders, there wasn’t much he could do.
A follow-up text arrived moments later.
Rooster: How was the drive? Everything okay? All the kids are down for the night. Theo didn’t even wake up when I brought him to our room. Judy’s still coughing a little but sound asleep. Let me know when you get a moment.
You sighed, the tension from the late-night drive mingling with the unresolved frustration of the past few days. Pushing it aside for now, you texted back quickly.
You: Drive was fine. Thanks for holding down the fort. I’ll call you in a minute.
Pulling your coat tighter, you stepped outside the car and dialled him. The phone rang twice before his familiar voice answered.
“Hey,” Bradley greeted, his tone warm but careful. “How’s it going? You get there okay?”
“I’m fine,” you replied, your voice steady. “Just parked. You said you got orders?”
There was a pause, just a fraction too long to go unnoticed, but he recovered quickly. “Yeah, it came through just a little while ago. Email straight from command,” he said, keeping his tone light. “It’s not a big deal, just a quick trip to test some new equipment. A few days, tops.”
You pressed your lips together, glancing up at the dimly lit lab building. “Funny how that just popped up, considering we were arguing about moving a couple of hours ago.”
He sighed, the sound crackling faintly through the line. “I know the timing sucks, but this isn’t about the move. It’s just work. You know how it is—they send orders, I follow them. It’s out of my hands.”
You leaned against the car, the cold seeping through your coat. “And it couldn’t wait until after we decided?”
“Apparently not,” he replied, his tone still soft. “They want it done now to prep for upcoming missions. It’s not permanent, YN. Just a few days, and then I’ll be back.”
Your fingers tightened around the phone. His explanation was logical, but a part of you still bristled. “It just feels sudden, that’s all,” you admitted. “After everything we talked about, it feels like the Navy’s always pulling the rug out from under us.”
“I get it,” he said gently. “I really do. But I promise I’ll make it as smooth as possible for you and the kids. And hey, once it’s done, we can refocus on everything here. I’ll help with the packing, with the kids—whatever you need.”
You exhaled slowly, the initial frustration easing slightly. “Alright,” you said finally. “If it’s orders, it’s orders. Just… don’t keep me in the dark about anything else, okay?”
“I won’t,” Bradley said quickly. “Promise.”
“Okay,” you murmured, glancing toward the building. “I should head in. Thanks for calling to let me know.”
“No problem,” he replied, his voice warm again. “Drive safe when you head back, alright? And don’t work too hard.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you said with a faint smile before ending the call.
As you walked into the lab, a flicker of doubt lingered in the back of your mind, but you pushed it aside. He wouldn’t lie about something like this—or so you believed.
-
Bradley sat back in the chair at his small desk, the glow of his phone screen casting a faint light across the darkened room. The group chat with the Dagger Squad had gone quiet for now, but his mind was racing. He hated lying to you, especially after the hard conversations you’d had tonight, but what unsettled him more was the creeping realization of how deep this would go.
A soft creak at the door pulled his attention, and he looked up to see Anna standing there, her favourite blankie draped over her shoulder and her teddy bear clutched tightly in her small hands.
“Daddy?” she whispered, her voice soft and sleepy.
Bradley immediately put his phone down, his heart squeezing at the sight of her. “Hey, Anna Banana. What’s wrong, baby girl?”
She padded over to him, her bare feet barely making a sound on the floor. “I had a bad dream,” she said, her bottom lip sticking out just a little as she rubbed her eyes.
“Come here,” Bradley said gently, holding out his arms. Anna climbed onto his lap without hesitation, curling against his chest as he wrapped his arms securely around her. Her blanket and teddy got squished between them, but she didn’t seem to mind.
He swayed gently in the chair, rubbing her back. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re safe. It was just a dream.”
Anna nodded sleepily, her head resting against his shoulder. “Are you going away again, Daddy?” she asked suddenly, her voice muffled.
The question hit him like a punch to the gut. He swallowed hard, guilt twisting in his chest. “Yeah,” he said softly, his voice thick. “But only for a little while, baby. Just a few days. I’ll be back before you know it.”
Anna pulled back just enough to look at him, her big, earnest eyes shining in the dim light. “But why? I don’t like when you go away.”
Bradley forced a small smile, brushing a strand of her hair out of her face. “I know, Banana. I don’t like leaving you either. But it’s part of my job, and I promise I’ll be home really soon.”
“Promise?” she whispered, holding up her pinky.
He hesitated for only a second before linking his pinky with hers. “Promise.”
Anna seemed satisfied with that, her little hand relaxing as she tucked herself back against his chest. He held her close, guilt gnawing at him. He hated that he was lying to her, too—that he wasn’t going because of orders but because of his own decision to go back to Top Gun for reasons he hadn’t fully shared.
Her small breaths began to even out, and Bradley knew she was falling back asleep. He carried her to the bed you both kept in your room for when the kids had restless nights, tucking her in with her blankie and teddy. She didn’t stir as he pulled the covers up around her.
As he returned to his desk, he stared down at his phone, the unanswered questions and unspoken truths weighing heavily on him. For a moment, he considered calling you again—coming clean about everything—but the fear of how you’d react kept his finger from pressing the button.
Bradley sat back down at his desk, the soft glow of his phone screen illuminating his conflicted expression. He glanced over his shoulder at Anna, curled up peacefully with her blankie and teddy in the bed. Her tiny chest rose and fell in a soothing rhythm, but the weight in his own chest didn’t lift.
He turned his gaze back to the group chat with the Dagger Squad, their earlier messages still sitting there, waiting for his response. He could hear their voices in his head—Payback's good-natured ribbing, Hangman’s cocky taunts, Phoenix’s steady, knowing tone.
His thumb hovered over the keyboard, hesitation coursing through him. You trusted him. Anna trusted him. But here he was, about to step back into the world he thought he’d left behind for good.
With a deep breath, he began typing.
Rooster: I’ll be there.
The replies were immediate, the chat lighting up in a flurry of responses.
Coyote: Knew you couldn’t resist!
Payback: Finally, the squad’s back together.
Hangman: About time, Bradshaw. I was starting to think you’d gone soft.
Phoenix: Good to have you back, Rooster.
Bradley leaned back in his chair, letting their messages blur together. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt as he reread his text. He hadn’t even said it out loud yet, but sending that message felt like crossing a line he couldn’t uncross.
He locked his phone and rubbed his hands over his face, the quiet of the room pressing down on him. This decision wasn’t just about him—it was about you, the kids, the life you’d built together. And yet, here he was, making a choice that might shake the foundation of it all.
For now, he’d focus on the days ahead. He’d handle the fallout later, even if it meant confronting the disappointment in your eyes when you found out.
Part 2
A/n: Maybe this is a mini series concept....
#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster x you#rooster x reader#rooster imagine#rooster fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw imagine#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#top gun imagine#top gun maverick imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction
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it is the perfect direction.
Bradley 'rooster' Bradshaw x F!reader
summary: reader needs help with her dress.
t/w: some nice fluff. I don't think there are any.
the red dress clings to your body in all the right places. running your hands down the front, the beads and sequins lay perfectly where they should. the slit on your left leg is almost a little too high to be appropriate, but it showcases your heels amazingly.
“roos, will you come zip me up?”
bradley steps into the room, his nose stuck in his book. when his eyes land on you, the book falls to the ground.
a low whistle comes from his mouth. “wow.”
stepping over to you, his hands slid onto your hips. he holds your gaze in the reflection. bradley places kisses along your neck, pulling you flush against him.
"you." he places a kiss under your ear. "look," a kiss on your neck. "amazing," a kiss on your shoulder.
his nose draws a line up your neck as those large hands squeeze your hips. he catches the slit in your dress and brings one hand down to the top of your thigh.
"scandalous," he murmurs in your ear. Bradley begins reigning kisses over every inch of exposed skin causing you to giggle.
giggle. Bradley Bradshaw is the only man who has ever made you giggle.
"roooos," you whine. "you need to zip me up so we can leave."
Bradley places a kiss between your shoulder blades and a shiver runs down your spine. his hand gently takes the zipper in his hand. you managed to get the zipper halfway up before calling for him.
he begins to line kisses along your spine, and pulls the zipper south.
"Bradley," you say. "that's the wrong direction."
"absolutely not," he says against your body. "it is the perfect direction. how 'bout we blow off the party?"
turning in his arms, you throw your arms around his neck. "I cannot let this dress go to waste."
a smirk appears on that beautiful face. "I'm not intending on wasting it." he leans down, taking his mouth in yours. you melt into his embrace. nothing compares to the way he makes you feel. he absolutely sets your on fire.
"come on, lieutenant. we both look too hot not to turn up at this party," you tell him, gripping the lapels of his coat.
his brow quirks up. "you think I'm hot?" he teases.
you answer with a deep kiss. Bradley groans against your mouth, pulling you to him. as he kisses you, he works the zipper up your back.
"I will be unzipping that later," he whispers into your neck.
#top gun maverick#top gun#top gun maverick fic#rooster x reader#rooster fanfic#rooster top gun#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster bradshaw fic#bradley x reader#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x reader
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The Cowgirl and The Aviator Ch.1
I keep seeing all the City Girl Reader x Jake stories, but no cowgirl reader x Jake. So I decided to take the liberty of writing one myself. Hope y'all enjoy it!
This was the first time you were going to see Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw. You had both crossed paths in college becoming close friends, and when he heard that you were trying to get away from a stalker ex boyfriend he had suggested you come stay with him. He had just gotten back from a big mission, but couldn’t tell you the specifics other than he had a near death experience. The skyline was beautiful as you drove towards Bradley’s apartment.
When you pulled up the apartment was close to the beach. You walked up to the second floor finding his apartment number and knocked on the door. It only took a few minutes when the door swung open to reveal Bradley in shorts a white tank and ugly Hawaiian shirt. “You still wear those Hawaiian shirts”, you laughed. “Of course, and you're still wearing jeans, cowboy boots and that ratty old ball cap. You’re in California now might as well go for some shorts”, he laughed back.
“No way”, you said. Bradley swooped you up squeezing the life out of you. “It’s so good to see you,” he stated. “Same here Rooster same here”, you smiled. He set you back down and offered to help you bring your stuff in. “You still drive this old truck”, he said. “Yeah I can’t let this baby go. Great gas mileage and as Joe Diffie says an 8 foot bed that never has to be made. Not to mention the bench seat”, you giggle as Bradley’s face goes red.
“I swear your mind is always in the gutter”, Bradley jested. “Well I grew up on a farm with brothers what did you expect”, you huffed dramatically. Bradley helped you get your measly duffle bag into the apartment. “Holy shit Roo this is an apartment? More like a small house”, you say more to yourself than Bradley. “Well I’m a tall guy I gotta have room”, he joked. He showed you to the guest room, and left you alone to unpack.
It took you all of ten minutes to unpack your things, and when you walked out to the main living area Bradley was hanging up his cellphone. “Hey want to go down to the Hard Deck with me?”, he asked. “If it’s a bar ya’ know I’m in” you respond eagerly. “You want to change?”, he questioned. “No I’m in comfortable clothes”, you replied. Once the apartment was all locked up you went straight for the Bronco. It was the same as you remembered it back in college no changes had been made.
The drive to the bar was filled with remembering old stories. When he pulled into a parking spot at the bar he got that serious look on his face. “Listen, some of the guys I fly with will be here, but there is one in particular you should stay away from”, he all but growls. “His callsign is Hangman and he is the type you don’t want to get mixed up with”, he tells you. “Noted”, you fake salute as you both make your way into the bar.
It was lively for a Thursday afternoon as you followed Rooster to a pool table where two guys and a woman were playing. “Rooster, good to see you man and you brought a date”, one of the guys said. “Oh no we aren’t dating. This is the friend I told you about (Y/N)”, Bradley stated. “You’re right there is no way you could have snagged her, she's too hot for you”, the woman laughed. “Phoenix but you can call me Nat”, she said, extending her hand.
You shook her hand as she introduced Payback and Fanboy. You sat back as they continued their game. Bradley had sneaked off to get another round of beers. When he came back he handed everyone their beers as the next round of pool started. You declined to play as Bradley joined this game. Half way through you were out of beer. “I’m going to the bar if anybody needs anything”, you announced. Everyone saying they were alright for now you headed towards the bar.
Low and behold there was Pete. He had come to some of the college baseball games when Bradley played and Bradley had introduced you. You said hello as a woman stepped up to ask what you would like. “What bourbons do you have?”, you questioned. The woman listed them and you made your choice. “I’ll take the Jack n’ Coke and make it a double please”, you answered.
As she made your drink Pete introduced you to her. She was the bar owner, Penny, who he was currently dating. You congratulated them and turned to find Bradley had taken to the piano and the pool table was free. You quickly made your way there and picked up a pool stick. You were down to the last couple of shots when you swore you felt someone was staring at you.
Jake had just walked in and was ordering a beer scoffing when he heard the familiar tune Rooster was playing on the piano. Then movement at the pool table caught his eye. A woman that definitely didn’t fit this type of bar scene was bent over the pool table lining up a shot. He couldn’t help but stare at her ass and the way those jeans hugged it. Once Penny handed him his beer he started making his way to the pool table.
“Uh oh looks like Hangman has his sights set”, Penny said. Maverick looked and started to laugh, “Oh don’t worry she can handle herself trust me”. Penny gave him a questioning look, but proceeded to watch what was about to happen. Jake had just made it to the pool table when you sank another shot. “I don’t mean to be rude darlin’, but it doesn’t look like you’re from around here”, he stated smiling.
“As a matter o’ fact I’m not”, you replied. “Well with that accent I’d say the south”, he guessed. “And with that accent and cocky attitude I’m guessing Texan and an aviator”, you said, sinking another shot while looking him in the eye. “Well you’d be right. Mind if I join ya I promise I’ll go easy on ya. Names Jake by the way”, he cockily replied. “I guess, but it’ll be a cold day in hell before I go easy on ya. Mines (Y/N)”, you smugly replied.
Jake liked this one already, feisty, and willing to dish it back at him. Usually women would already be giggling and batting their lashes at him. “I would say gentleman first, but you don’t look much like a gentleman”, you scoffed. “Ouch. I would say ladies first, but you look more like a hellcat. Tell me how sharp are your claws”, he said wiggling his eyebrows at you. “You’ll never find out”, you replied. “How about a bet”, he said. “Alright I’m listening”, you responded.
“I’ll give you a hundred dollars if you win”, he states. “What if you win?”, you inquired. “If I win you go out on a date with me, and maybe if I like you we can go back to my apartment”, he added. You seemed to think it over as the smile stayed on his smug face. Who did this guy think he was for one and for two you weren’t one for one night stands, but a hundred dollars was a hundred dollars. “Alright you're on, but when you lose don’t throw a tantrum like a child”, you told him.
He let you go first which was his first mistake. You shot and the balls scattered and the solid red seven went in. The next shot you lined up and the yellow one ball went in. You were lining up and about to shoot when the man you were playing against brushed up against you to whisper in your ear. “Ya know, ya look good bent over this pool table wonder what else you would look good bent over”, he declared.
You knew he was trying to throw you off, and you glanced over your shoulder at him giving a sultry look. Then you sank your shot standing to line up your next shot. “Honey just quit while you’re ahead”, you smirked. You missed the next shot and he took his turn and sank one of his shots. Jake was lining up his next shot when he looked up, only for you to be right across from him leaning on a table with your ass jutted out talking with none other than Bob.
No you weren’t talking you were flirting how could you flirt with Bob and not him. He was tall, handsome and could show you a much better time he was sure of it. When his shot missed you quickly turned to look at him with a shit eating grin. “Looks like it’s my turn”, you declared. You sank a shot, but then you felt him behind you and he leaned over you almost caging you in. “You sure that's a good angle?”, he examined. “Oh I think I’ll do just fine”, you retorted then brought the pool stick back tapping him below the belt.
He groaned and backed up enough for you to sink your shot. You sank another shot, but missed the next one. As he bent over the pool table to line up his shot you took your chance. You walked up and whispered in his ear, “How many rounds do you think I could ride before fallin’ off”. Then for good measure you turned letting him watch your ass sway as you walked to get your drink. He was imagining all the ways he could have you whimpering and calling his name.
He lined up his shot and it was slightly off making him frown. You were starting to get to him and you both carried on like that until there were only a couple shots left. You were winning and to be honest Jake couldn’t even be upset. Just being around you and flirting, if one could call it that, was entertaining and he wondered even if he lost if you would give him a chance to take you out on a date. You asked for a break to go to the bar and get another drink.
“I’ll get it, what're you havin’?”, Jake asked, accent thick. “Thanks but I can get my own drinks. Bob make sure he doesn’t cheat”, you smiled. Bob nodded and Jake watched as you made your way to the bar putting a little more sway in your hips than normal. When you made it to the bar Penny waited on you again. “You know you should be careful with that one”, Penny told you, referring to Jake. “Why’s that?”, you implored.
“He is a one night stand kind of guy”, she mentioned. “It’s alright Penny I’ve dealt with his kind before”, you smirked. Pete shook his head as he continued to drink his beer. You made it back just in time for Rooster and his friends to come back over to the pool table. Rooster grabbed your elbow asking, “What did you bet?”. “Calm down Roo he bet that if I win he gives me a hundred bucks and if he wins I go on a date with him”, you huffed. “Seriously, why the hell would you do that?”, Bradley grits out. “Because it seemed like fun and a hundred dollars is a hundred dollars”, you respond.
“Bradshaw as I live and breathe”, Jake states. “Hangman”, Bradley spits back. Now it made sense this was the guy that Bradley had warned you about. “Bradley it’s okay I only have two more shots to sink to win”, you told him. You grabbed your pool stick and lined up your shot and sank it without problem. The last one you had to sink and you looked up to see Bradley gripping his beer bottle so tightly his knuckles were turning white.
Then you looked at Jake seeing him smirking at Bradley before saying, “Ya know I was wondering if inviting her to my house for dinner would be a good first date. I make a damn good steak”. Bradley looked like he could punch him any moment so you took your shot making them both whip their heads to the table. The last ball smacked the side and right into the corner pocket. “Alright Hangman pay up”, you smirked.
His smile stayed on his face as he pulled a hundred out of his wallet handing it over to you. “I was expecting you to choke”, he said. “I bet you thought I’d be choking on you after the imaginary date too huh”, you laughed. Nat’s eyes widened and she tried to contain her laughter as Jake’s smile faltered a little. He couldn’t respond. You had actually left him speechless and the image burned itself into his brain as the others started to dog him and make jokes at his expense.
Jake watched as you high fived Rooster and finished your drink. He watched as you made your way back to the bar to order another drink. On your way back a guy cut you off from continuing to the rest of the group. You obviously turned him down as he watched this man call you a bitch. You said something back as you walked around the man and he started to get up to intervene. The nerve of this guy that had just asked you if you would like to go back to his place for some fun; then got angry and called you a bitch when you refused.
He grabbed your arm and spun you around making you spill your drink. The man was obviously drunk and you were now pissed that your drink was all over the floor. “Look I’m not going to go home with you asshole. Now let me go ya’ fucker”, you seethed. “I don’t think you know who I am bitch”, he stated, and that's when his hand came up and slapped you. It stung and knocked you back a couple steps as your brain registered what happened. You had long dropped your drink and balled your hand into a fist and let it fly.
It hit the man right in his nose as blood gushed from it. “You whore”, the man spit. He was about to charge at you when two people got in between the fight. The first you noticed was Bradley and the other was Jake. “You need to apologize and get the fuck out of this bar”, Jake said. “I’m not apologizing to that whore”, the man responded. The bell rang out as everyone started shouting overboard. You had no clue what was happening.
Rooster and Hangman nodded to each other and grabbed the guy by the arms as Payback came over to grab the man's legs. They carried him to the back deck and threw him out onto the sandy beach. “If you come back you mess with all of us”, Hangman shouted. All of the people in the bar shouted in agreement as Penny and Pete were checking you over. “Your cheek is already swelling”, Penny said as she went to get a bag of ice.
While you were waiting on Penny, Pete helped you onto a bar stool looking at the red hand print on your cheek. “Are you alright, darlin?”, Jake asked as he came up to you and Pete. “Yeah nothing I ain’t used to”, you respond. Jake smiles but you can tell it doesn’t meet his eyes. “I’m fine I swear’, you state. When Penny gets back with a bag of ice wrapped in a small hand towel you thank her and ask for another drink. Jake watches as Penny makes your drink and he smiles genuinely then.
“Should have known you would like a strong drink”, Jake says. Bradley finally makes his way to you to make sure you are okay. “We should go after you're finished with that drink”, Bradley states. “Oh come on it was a slap not a punch”, you huffed. “Yeah and how long were you on the road for before you got here?”, Bradley questioned. “Look I slept in my truck till noon and hit the road then. I got a full eight hour sleep. I am not leaving yet”, you replied stubbornly. “You slept in your truck?! Do you know how dangerous that is?!”, Bradley shouted.
“Hey ease up Rooster she obviously can handle herself”, Jake jumped in. “Stay out of this Hangman”, Roster seethed. “Look, I'm a big girl and can make my own decisions. I’m not your girl and I swear if you say we need to go I’ll just get a ride from Jake here. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind”, you stated. That seemed to have Rooster backing down as Jake grinned. “I wouldn’t mind taking you anywhere you needed to go darlin”, he replied.
“No he will not”, Bradley huffed. “Then it looks like we’re staying a little longer”, you said. You grabbed your drink and made your way back to Roosters friends who had once again taken over the pool table. “She’s a pistol”, Jake said aloud. “You don’t know the half of it. Do me a favor and stay away from her. She doesn’t need anymore heartbreak than she's already had”, Rooster grumbled. “Not making any promises”, Jake responded.
You watched as Bradley and Jake spoke to each other then started making their way to the pool table. “Rooster, how about you take my spot!”, Fanboy yelled. Rooster agreed, taking Fanboy’s spot and now that he was distracted you made your way out to the deck of the bar. The smell of the ocean and the slight breeze helped you to relax. Jake came to stand beside you leaning over the rail. “So you and Rooster huh?”, he inquired.
“No nothing like that. He sees me more as a sister”, you replied. “So what really brings you out here?”, he pried. “I thought Rooster would have told you all, but I was being stalked by an ex boyfriend and when I told Roo he told me to come out here”, you explained. “My sister dealt with an ex boyfriend like that, but in Texas we take care of our own. Why didn’t you go stay with your family?”, he asked.
“I would if there were any alive to talk to. The only family I have is a brother and he doesn’t want to have anything to do with me”, you explained. “Damn well if you ever need the dagger squad we’ll be there for ya’ unless we are out on missions”, Jake responds. “Thanks”, you responded. “If I would have won would you have gone on a date with me?”, he questions. “See we were having a nice conversation and you ruined it”, you laughed.
Jake frowned until you looked him in the eyes and said, “I would have if you had won”. His smile returned as you finished the rest of your drink, and dismissed yourself back to the pool table where Bradley had just finished up. Jake couldn’t help but watch as you walked out the door with Rooster thinking of how to get you to go out with him.
#top gun maverick#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin#bradley rooster bradshaw#dagger squad#pete maverick mitchell#penny benjamin
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The girl behind the bar (Part 7)
pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x plus-size reader
warnings: mentions of past body shaming, angst
words: 3.5k
Summary: After what happened between you and Jake and those stupid guys making fun of your appearance, you weren't too keen on seeing him again. Let alone having him surprise you in the storage room to talk things over...
Link to my masterlist
Rooster, Phoenix and the rest of the gang came in right when you opened the bar. Even Hangman and Coyote were part of the group when they entered. They were early for their usual arrival and went straight for the pool table.
It’s only been two days since that fallout with Hangman, but you were already over it. Or at least that’s what you told yourself.
You were stupid to think that something could have been between you and Jake. It was a stupid little kiss born out of the situation and meant nothing. You were glad that you didn’t ask him to come up to your apartment that night as it would only have been another thing that you would have regretted.
It might have been a nice little fantasy but daydreaming was over.
You might have been ready to act like the kiss never happened but you weren’t ready to forgive him for letting those guys talk about you the way they did without him saying anything in your defense and then act like you were mad at him for no reason.
“Hey girl”, Phoenix arrived at the counter and snapped you from your thoughts. “Hey girl”, you returned the greeting.
A few nights back, you and Phoenix overheard a bunch of girls saying hey girl all the time and as a joke, you now always greeted each other that way.
“Can we have 7 beers, please?”, she asked and moved over her credit card. “Sure thing, girl”, you said and grabbed it. “Thanks, girl”, she replied and made you both laugh.
You opened 7 bottles and arranged them evenly on a trey. “I got it, thank you”, Phoenix said and carried the trey over herself. Unknowingly, she did you a huge favor as she delayed you having to come face to face with Hangman again.
Another group came through the door and kept you busy for the next few minutes until another group showed up and slowly the bar got more crowded.
Later in the evening, Bob showed up at the bar counter and sat down in one of the chairs. When he looked up, he caught your stare. “I just need a moment away”, he said and you knew what he meant. Having this specific group of navy pilot all in one place, you knew from experience that it could get quite overwhelming.
“Take all the time you need”, you said and just placed a beer in front of him with a wink which earned you a shy smile from him.
While you continued serving drinks, you shot Bob a look every now and then, checking on him and that’s how you noticed that he was looking over at a girl sitting across the bar from him. She seemingly looked over as well but you weren’t sure if she was interested. She definitely played it cool.
"You can just go over and talk to her, you know?", you said with a smirk while polishing some glasses close to him and putting them into the shelves beneath the bar. Bob looked at you with big eyes like he was caught red handed. His cheeks even turned a light shade of red.
That guy flew in fighter jets for a living and was afraid to ask out a girl. It showed you again that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover. With the exception of Hangman. With him you got what you saw.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about”, he shook his head and took a sip of his drink. “I’m talking about the cute brunette across the bar that you’re looking at ever since you sat down”, you said and shot him a smirk.
“I can bring over a drink from you”, you suggested. He looked at you and then over to the girl. “She doesn’t look interested”, he shrugged his shoulders. You looked over at her again. She looked around the room, obviously looking for someone to flirt with. Not to feed the cliché but she looked like your typical pretty girl that wanted something the most when she thought she couldn’t have it. Sometimes, us women weren’t better than our male counterparts.
“Just lean over and say something in my ear”, you turned to him, saying in a whispered tone and leaned forward. He looked at you with big eyes behind his glasses. You two had never been physically that close to each other. “Huh?”, he eloquently asked. “Just say something to me”, you repeated slowly.
After a moment of hesitation, he leaned forward and said “And what should I say?”. You pulled back and laughed like he had made a sexy joke. “God, Bob! Stop it!”, you said extra loudly and playfully slapped his arm that was resting on the bar top as you kept giggling. You carefully looked over your shoulder, seeing that the girl was looking over at the two of you. Her eyes wandered from you to Bob, now clearly checking him out.
“I don’t know what’s happening”, he continued in a whispered tone and looked like a deer in the headlights. You leaned your arms on the bar and put your face close to him. “I’m helping you get her attention”, you explained with a whisper. For people across the room, it must look like you were having an intimate conversation.
“Hey Y/N! Can we get another round?”, Rooster called over and held up his hand, showing 4 fingers and you dove back up from your conversation with Bob. You grabbed four bottles of beer, opened and placed them on a trey before you came around the bar. When you walked past Bob on your way to the table, you let your hand glide along his shoulders that were pretty tense. “Relax, I know what I’m doing”, you whispered at his ear, then grabbed the trey and walked over to the group.
“What was all that giggling about?”, Fanboy asked, wiggling eyebrows as you arrived with the new round. “Just an inside joke, you wouldn’t understand”, you brushed it off with a smile like you and Bob had a secret, which you kinda had.
“Yeah? What about?”, Hangman asked from the other side of the pool table, leaning against the wall with his drink in hand.
“About being a decent guy. Like I said, you wouldn’t understand”, your voice was ice cold when you talked to him. Coyote had the decency to look down at his feet, avoiding eye contact with you.
You placed the last drink down a bit hard in front of Rooster before you turned around and left the group again.
“What was that about?”, you heard Rooster asking. “Hangman, what did you do?”, Phoenix asked him immediately. “Mind your business”, he just said and emptied his drink.
You had forgotten that the group didn’t know what happened two nights ago as only Hangman and Coyote were here with these guys you had never seen here before.
When you came back to the bar, you saw that the brunette was now sitting next to Bob and they were talking. You stepped behind the counter and saw that her drink was empty. “Can I get you guys anything?”, you asked and shot Bob a little proud smile.
“Could I have a Rum and Coke?”, she asked and leaned a little closer to him while she was talking to you. I get it, you’re talking to him now, you thought to yourself and bit down on your bottom lip to hide your smile.
You grabbed all the ingredients to make her drink and noticed that you were low on Rum. You poured the rest of what was in the bottle into her glass and onto the ice in it, topped it off with Coke and placed it in front of her.
“I have to go to storage, real quick. You okay here, Jimmy?”, you asked your colleague, who was serving drinks on the other side of the bar circle. “Sure thing, darling”, he nodded and placed the dish towel over his right shoulder which was kind of his trademark.
You grabbed the key for the storage room from under the counter as you walked out of the bar circle and weaved through the crowd towards the door to the little hallway. There, you found a couple making out against the wall next to the storage room door.
“Hey, guys. You’re either on your way to the restrooms or your way back. No kissing in the hallway, please”, you told them. “Sorry”, the guy said and pulled the girl back into the main bar area while she giggled. “Mhm, must be nice”, you said to yourself while you unlocked the door and put the key into the pocket of your apron.
The bottles of Rum were on the top shelf which you were definitely too short for. You pulled over a wooden box and stepped on it. Even with that help, you had to stand on your tiptoes to reach the bottles. You grabbed one at first and then reached for the second one. The box was kinda shaky but you managed to hold your balance. Until you didn’t.
When you wanted to step off, the box moved and made your descent quicker than you would have liked. All you could think about was to not drop the two big bottles of Rum and bracing yourself for impact. And then…two strong arms caught you.
“Are you okay?”, you heard behind you and recognized the voice immediately. Jake.
As soon as he put you back on your feet, you shook off his hands. “Get your hands off of me”, you shot at him with an angry look. “Hey, I just saved you from a fall”, he countered and looked surprised that you were angry with him. “I didn’t ask you to save me”, you told him. “You don’t have to ask someone to save you…”, he countered again, huffing annoyed. “I would have preferred someone”, you said, indicating that you meant literally anyone but him.
“Could you just shut up and listen to me for a second? God damn it”, he raised his voice in anger. You put the two bottles on a shelf next to you and crossed your arms in front of your chest.
“What do you want, bagman?”, you asked with a cold tone. Your eyes flickered over his shoulder and you noticed that he had closed the door behind him. You didn’t know how you felt about that.
He shot you an annoyed look for the use of Phoenix’s interpretation of his call sign that he hated so much and took a deep breath, sort of looking for some composure.
“I wanted to talk to you about what happened two days ago”, he began.
“What’s there to talk about?”, you asked him but your tone indicated that there were tons to talk about.
“I was stupid”, Jake said. “At least, we can agree on that”, you spat at him, shifting your weight from one leg to the other.
“I was an asshole that night. I should have said something when he talked shit about you and I didn’t. I’m sorry”, he said. “Okay”, you simply stated but the tone in your voice let him know that it was not okay.
“It doesn’t sound like it’s okay”, he mentioned. As a response, you put your hands on your hips and just looked at him, your jaw clenching.
“Look, I didn’t see you there, otherwise I would have said something”, he tried again.
“It shouldn’t matter if I was there or not! You shouldn’t have let him talk about me that way”, you angrily spat at him while you took two steps forward, ramming your finger into his chest. Your patience wasn’t running low, it was all gone. “And on top of it, you acted like you didn’t even know me and then made me feel like I was overreacting. That hurt, Jake”, you told him and you felt your voice getting a little shaky, which you hated. You took the two steps back again and took a deep breath.
“How come you’re ready to risk your life every time you fly those jets but being associated with me is something you can’t handle?”, you asked him straight out and from the expression on his face you knew you caught him off guard. Your eyes burnt from the oncoming tears.
“Y/N…”, he started but you interrupted him. “Is being associated with me hurting your brand?”, you made quotation marks with your fingers.
“I’ve got enough insecurities on my own, I don’t need yours on top of it”, you added. You were getting worked up with every word you said to him. Maybe you were overreacting on some level, but years of suppressed feelings bubbled up to the surface and you didn’t know how to make it stop.
Jake had the ability to find your deepest scars, ripping them open again and deepening them even more. You just felt like with what had happened that you had your biggest insecurities confirmed.
Jake remained silent, visually lost for words of what you had just put in front of him. You sighed defeated.
“Listen, what happened between us here during the storm was obviously a mistake. We were caught up in some moment and I can dismiss it as that. But I thought over the past few weeks we became some sort of friends. And as a friend, you should have defended me against an asshole making stupid comments about my appearance like that. But since that wasn’t the case, you made it clear that we’re not friends. So, we might as well go back to just being a customer and a bartender”, you motioned between the two of you as you made it clear where you stood on your relationship to him. If you could even call it that.
Now, it was your turn to just look at him as you had made your point and said what needed to be said. From your point of view, whatever this was between you and Jake was now over and things could go back to normal.
You grabbed the two bottles of Rum from the shelf next to you and walked past him towards the door. When you were right next to him, his hand grabbed your arm with a light but determined grip.
“Y/N, I’m sorry what happened, I really am”, he told you and when you looked up at his eyes, they looked sincere. You wished so badly you could believe him, but something deep inside you still doubted him. You carefully pulled your arm from his hand and opened the storage room door with your elbow. You took a step out and to the side to tell him to leave the room as well.
When he came to stand next to you, you put the two bottles in his hands and grabbed the key from your apron to lock the door again.
“We’re shipping out soon and I don’t want to have this standing between us”, he tried again and to your ear, it almost sounded desperate.
“It’s all good Jake, really. In the future, I’ll make sure you’ll see me so you’ll know when to defend me”, you said, not hiding your sarcastic undertone at all, and collecting the bottles from his hands again. “I hope you’re doing well on your mission. I really do. God knows you need the confidence boost”, you told him and the cold tone in your voice even made yourself shiver a little bit.
You shot him an icy look as you took a step back and then turned around to walk back to the main bar area. You had left Jimmy alone long enough.
As a pleasant surprise, when you came back to the counter, you found Bob and the girl still talking. You put one of the bottles of Rum on the liquor shelves in the middle of the circle and stored the other one in the cabinet beneath it.
“There you are, I almost thought you got lost back there”, Jimmy called out when he saw you. You shot him an apologetic smile.
After getting some space between you and Jake, you now realized how much that conversation had drained you. You watched him walking back to the pool table, saying something to the others and then taking off towards the exit. Right before he left, he turned around to look at you once more. You held his stare for just one second and then turned towards a new customer to serve her a drink.
When you walked along the bar circle to check on the other side of the bar, you found Rooster standing there, shooting you a concerned look.
“What?”, you asked him straight out. His sad eyes gave you the creeps.
“Coyote told us what happened two nights ago”, he told you and shot you another sad look. “He didn’t speak up then, he should have kept his mouth shut now”, you told him and looked over his shoulder to shoot Coyote a stern look for blabbering to the others.
“I’m sorry that happened to you and that Hangman was his usual, stupid self”, Rooster said compassionately. “Oh god, don’t give me those pitty eyes. I’m a grown woman and my skin is thicker than it already looks”, you told him and pulled a face. You tried to diffuse the situation with humor. Pitty was even worse than what that guy had said.
“It wasn’t okay what happened to you. From both of them”, he added. “Rooster, I really appreciate that. But Hangman and I cleared the air and if the other guy ever shows up here again, I’ll just spit in his drink”, you told him with a wink.
“It didn’t look like cleared air from the way he left”, Rooster mentioned. “His feelings are not my concern as mine are obviously not his. We talked, he understood most of it and that’s that”, you told him.
You leaned over and grabbed two shot glasses. “And I don’t know about you but I need a drink right now. Will you take a shot with me?”, you asked him and grabbed a bottle of tequila from behind you.
“How can I say no to that?”, he said and a smile played around his lips. You weren’t sure if he believed you that you were already over what had happened but he was willing to let it go for now.
You filled the glasses, each of you grabbed one, clinked them and downed your drinks with one swift sip. You both pulled a face when the liquor burned down your throats. “Jesus”, you called out with a raspy voice.
To Rooster’s surprise, you filled up the glasses again. Instead of saying something, he just raised his eyebrow at you. You pushed over the full glass to him and looked at him challengingly. “Are you sure?”, he asked and was talking more about you drinking on the job than him getting free drinks.
“Drink up or I’ll make you play, piano boy”, you told him and now raised an eyebrow at him. His eyes lit up like you just gave him an idea.
“I’ll gladly do both”, he said, grabbed his drink and downed it like the last one. “Wait, what?”, you asked confused and forgot to drink your shot. “Guys!”, he called over to the pool table and motioned for them to get over to the piano. “You too, Bob”, he slapped Bob’s shoulder who was still talking to the brunette. As he got up from his seat, he just took the hand of the girl and pulled her with him.
Rooster walked right over to the piano and had Payback pull the plug from the jukebox. On his way back, him and Fanboy grabbed your hands and pulled you from behind the bar and shoved you over to the piano as well. Shit, you should have downed your second shot.
Before you knew it, Rooster was playing the first notes of Great Balls of Fire…
When you got to the bar the next day, Penny told you that they got shipped out that morning, including Maverick.
Even though you were still mad at Jake for what he did, you were also scared that you might have seen the last of him. He had told you that his job and the missions he took on were dangerous and it was a very real possibility the he wouldn’t come home from them. Penny looked very nervous as well and that didn’t help your own gut to settle down.
Yes, you hated him for not defending you but you would hate it even more to not see his stupid face or his cocky grin ever again.
Next chapter: Part 8
#jake hangman seresin#the girl behind the bar#jake hangman seresin x plus-size reader#glen powell#topgun maverick#jake hangman seresin imagine#jake hangman seresin fanfiction#glen powell imagine#topgun maverick fanfiction#jake seresin
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Comfort Back Home, Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw
Summary: As strong as Bradley can be, he feels miserable from time to time. This is the first time he crumbles in front of you.
Short (900ws), cute drabble for baby Bradshaw
Being the best upcoming aviator in the Navy has to be stressful, you think, and yet Bradley had handled it like a champ up until recently.
He’s always done everything by himself, and although behind closed doors he would let frustrated tears out, around people he would always show the confident and happy side of himself.
If not, he still kept himself relatively calm for when he was alone, not wanting to come off as vulnerable to others (mostly Hangman).
But, there’s always a breaking point. Since you had been around him during the deployment at Top Gun with Maverick, and you’d seen him react fairly well (apart from some quieter days and a snapping attitude from time to time), you’d think it would take him a bigger obstacle to completely break down.
And yet, all it took was a minimal fuck up in the air during training, and he’s now knocking on your flat looking like a beaten up puppy, blood-red eyes and shuffled hair. You heart tightens in concern gazing up at him, usually big and strong, looking small in an oversized hoodie that was his father’s.
“Baby…”, you whisper, a hand slowly rising for the instinct of giving him a comforting touch, but stopping midway to check if he’s okay with that. He has the strength to smile at your respect for him as he nods.
When your warm hand makes contact with his burning cheek, he takes a few seconds to close his eyes and the moment the irises disappear, a tear runs down his cheek.
You move in a heartbeat and yet somehow still slowly to not startle him from the bliss he’s feeling now. You keep one hand on his face, while curling the other around his waist to move him inside, and then close the door.
“Bradley,” you try, now both hands on his neck, thumbs overlapping a few stressed veins there. He opens his eyes, and you’re met with a thunderstorm of emotions that make you want to cry out in agony.
You recognize all of it. The pain, the worry, the bad thoughts, the lack of strength, the fear of being so lost and powerless all of a sudden. You know because you’ve experienced that as well. And seeing it on him, recognizing how much pain he’s in right now really destroys you. It’s the last thing you want for him. You want him to be the careless side of him all the time, cocky smiles and silly chokes. You try your best to do your side of what you can, and although you knew at one point it had to happen, it still grumbles your grounds.
You try to think fast, and doing that you can feel a hint of panic starting to make its way inside you. Fearing you’re not what he needs right now because you’re incapable of helping him in this situation, when he needs you the most. You can feel all your insecurities trying to take over you, but Bradley is your priority, his desperate eyes begging you to gain the power he's lost right now. All your memories with him calm you down and, at the same time, give you strength, and you know what to do.
You take off of his shoulder the training bag from work, and then slot your fingers in his hand and slowly, carefully, you bring him in front of the couch and staying there as he sits. He goes to drag you down with him but you restrain, silently asking him with your eyes to trust you with your thing.
You nudge his legs open with your knee and slot in between them, standing a few feet taller in front of him, his head leveled with your chest. Smiling reassuringly, you embrace his neck with both arms and lay his head on your chest, right between your breasts, his nose nuzzling on your right one, and eyes closed in bliss.
You whisper sweet nothings to him. Words of affirmation you know he needs. You tell him how much you missed him during the day. How much you thought of him. How needed he is in your life, how essential he is. You lightly sway left and right, in a silent lullaby, while calling him pet names you know he loves. He takes a few minutes to connect fully after a well deserved, love-ignited black out, and moves fast to wrap his arms around the low of your thighs. You feel his gratitude in the kiss he gives your breast followed by a content smile.
"My Baby," you say blissfully and, at one, he lets all loose.
He cries, tears damping your shirt and you couldn’t care less. you're cooing at him in understanding, though you know they’re not sad tears. They are of relief. He feels like all his worries just disappeared under those words, and he can’t believe it happened after a whole day they weighted on his shoulders.
You both don’t make a sign to move.
“Whenever I am sad, feeling you caging me like this brings me back to Earth. Makes me feel safe, knowing there’s someone bigger than my insecurities believing in me, helping me take those away. I wanted to do it for you too, baby. I’m sorry today was stressful, but I’m bigger than the bad things you thought of yourself throughout today. I am here always, at the end, and I’ll remind you of all the good things you’ve done and felt. And I’ll be with you when you feel like crying to fight for you, yeah?”
He nods against your body, arms tightening around you as few more sleepy kisses are left on the valley of your breasts.
#miles teller x reader#rooster top gun#rooster imagine#bradley bradshaw fluff#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster bradshaw fic#bradley rooster bradshaw#top gun maverick fluff#top gun maverick#comfort#bradley rooster x y/n#Bradley rooster Bradshaw x reader
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What’s Love Got to Do with It
(oberyn x f!reader) wc: 4.6k | other fics
note: hey y’all it’s me ya gurl, here to defile another prompt with a silly idea <3 Sooo, from the three brain cells that brought you fuckboy!joel and divorced dad rock dilf!joel 🫡i now humbly present …. Frat bro Oberyn, Aka The Red Viper, aka the Prince of Pong, aka the Slut of Delta Psi (i did steal the frat name from the film Neighbors—in which they do sing a line from Creed in their frat chant, so in some twisted way, they’re kind of all connected right??)
I fear this may have just been funny to me so feel free to skip, but thank you to everyone who tolerates my shenanigans <3.
ANYWAY, The lovely @baronessvonglitter bestowed upon me Oberyn x What’s Love Got to Do with It for fucktober (happy belated bday babe) but naturally, i made it weird. Thanks to @sunshinehaze1 for reminding me that modern AUs exist when I got scared of the GOT universe and to @auterdelabre for reminding me that the answer is always fuckboy. Don’t blame them for anything else.
Summary: You attend a fraternity toga party, and you catch the eye of Delta Psi’s notorious Red Viper. He shows you how he got the nickname and then he shows you something else he’s known for.
tags/warnings: explicit 18+ smut, alcohol/partying, gratuitous flirting, piv, fuckboy behavior aka on to the next one, infidelity, i couldn’t bring myself to write his dialogue in frat bro™ –aka i didn’t fully commit to the bit bc that man just had to be smooth and had to fuck no matter what universe i put him in, apologies if that ruins your immersion in my pwp, per usual: no y/n, f!reader is able bodied otherwise no specifics, unprotected piv as if it’s no biggie because it’s fiction (don’t do that irl), no beta/limited proofreading sorry for all mistakes
“Oh my god, that’s him!” Your best friend shouts into your ear as you walk down the sidewalk. You blend into the sea of toga-clad college kids, sandals slapping against the pavement. Liv leans on you, pointing out the guy she’s talking about. You can hear the music pouring out into the street and people inside yelling and chanting over someone doing a keg stand or something equally as exciting and alcohol-related, you assume.
The guy she pointed out is leaning casually against the banister, letting some ripped blond dude entertain him on the porch. “That’s the guy your roommate was talking about?” you question your friend. Liv agrees with a smile as you walk towards the front steps.
Everyone else on the porch looks like a frat bro wrapped in a wrinkly bedsheet, but for some reason, he seems almost godlike. He’s luminous under the warm lights. As if he knew you were checking him out, he turns his head just as you walk past, and his eyes sweep over you, making your face hot. Something sparks between you before he turns away, taking a swig of his drink.
Liv had given you a rundown on what to expect at your first Delta Psi party. You had argued that you knew what college parties were like. You transferred this quarter as a senior, and you just didn’t have Greek life at your other school or your best friend to convince you to go out. But now, you’re here, dressed up and entering a party that really does feel a little more intense than the ones back at your small-town university.
Liv’s roommate had given you the rundown on the guys she knew in the fraternity, but you didn’t pay much attention to her descriptions. You figured there was no way a Brad, Dylan, Connor, or a Brent would actually be hot. And then, when she started with the ones with nicknames, you completely checked out after Viper and Rooster. It has to defy the laws of nature for a frat bro that goes by Rooster to be able to find your clit—even if he IS hot.
Yet, now you realize you might be eating your words because you get it. You were too quick to judge, whoops. “Which one was that?” you ask in Liv’s ear as you both make your way through the people sloshing drinks and dancing.
“Viper!”
You can’t help the immediate grimace that emerges on your face. “That’s so douchey!” you shout back over the noise before she pulls you down a hall toward that kitchen. She leans in close to your ear, telling you that her roommate swears she got the best head of her life from him. “No fucking way,” you argue.
“Way,” she smirks back. “He’s got a girlfriend now, though. They’re, like, totally in love, it’s all over social media.” She mocks puking at the idea, and you share a laugh.
You explore the party together. The house is huge; one room on the main floor is blasting EDM, and another is blasting top 40 hits. There are a couple of beer pong tables in the backyard and a detached garage filled with stoners on old couches giggling to themselves. You know that Liv is itching to park her ass on one of those sofas and find a girl or guy to whom she can woo with her French inhale and makeout with for the rest of the night.
But, she’s a loyal ass bitch who wouldn’t abandon you. You circle back through the house. You spend a little while dancing together and taking your time to see if there’s anyone else who catches your eye. Nobody really sticks out to you in the first room until you catch his eyes again. You have to do a double-take as you circle your waist and roll your body against Liv.
He’s semi-shrouded in the corner; with the dim lighting and the packed house, it would be easy to miss the two of them altogether. But when the girl clinging to him turns around to grind her ass against him, he locks eyes with you, and you swear that fucker winks at you before a group of girls prance into the room, shouting oh my god, it’s our song! You try to shake it off. You were definitely just seeing things with the lights.
You signal to Liv, and she follows you into the other room. You dance together a bit longer. She offers you a swig from her rhinestone-encrusted flask, but you turn her down, staying sober tonight. You feel euphoric enough with the strobe lights and the thrumming bass from the EDM remixes blasting in the room.
You turn down a few wasted white dudes who try to dance up on the two of you. Too drunk. Not your type. Too handsy. You’re not afraid to punch a man in the throat or the nuts if they don’t get the hint, but they back off when you give them a gentle shove and a shake of your head. The most recent suitor is turning and scoping for another girl to approach when you see him again.
He’s moving towards you, looking right at you, but there’s no girl on his arm–or crotch, now. For some reason, it makes you feel too hot. You’re sweating from the dancing anyway, so you ignore the electric look in his eye that makes your clit twitch and grab Liv’s arm to make a dash for the backyard to get some fresh air.
You debrief with each other and come to an agreement. You tell Liv to do her thing, urging her to head towards the couch with the skater dude wearing the toga made from a dinosaur patterned sheet and the high-top vans. She agrees to text you if she plans to relocate or wants to leave before you finish taking another lap around the party.
You sort of lie to her, claiming someone inside caught your eye. They did, but you aren’t planning to do anything about it. Instead, you part ways and head back through the house, past the pledge posing as a bouncer at the front door, and onto the front porch. The music is still loud, but it’s quieter out front. People still trickle in and out of the party. You stare out at the night sky, searching for the moon. In your own little world, you’re basking in your own peace.
“I haven’t seen you here before,” a rich, velvety voice washes over your shoulder. It should make you jerk away, give you goosebumps, and raise your hackles. But, instead, the interruption stirs liquid heat in your core and makes your nipples hard. Because it’s him.
You turn your head and confirm. He’s so close to you.
“You know every girl here?” you challenge him.
“I know the ladies and gentlemen that pique my curiosity,” his voice is so smooth. He’s a charmer, for sure. He offers you a drink, holding out two plastic cups in one hand. The size of his hand does make you tingly, but his smile falters when you shoot him one of your signature dirty looks.
Before he can ask about the look, you take one of the cups, give him a cloyingly sweet smile, and pour it out over the railing into the grass below. The tail of his brow quirks, and he gives you a sly smile that widens into a grin and a full-chested laugh. “Oops,” you mock.
“You’re a bold woman,” he muses, “I like that.”
He doesn’t back down after you toss out his drink. He doesn’t take it as a rejection. He understands when you explain you don’t take open drinks from strangers at a frat party, but you roll your eyes hard when he gloats about not needing tricks or drugs to find a lover.
He banters with you as he downs the remaining drink. He’s quick, with sharp wit and a devious smile. You can’t keep your eyes off his exposed chest, his arms, his neck, his eyes. It’s still confusing how he can look so regal, whereas everyone else in the party looks a little…goofy? Cliche? He pulls you back to the present, asking for your name before he gives you his.
“They call me ‘the Red Viper,’” he gives you a provocative grin like he knows exactly how hot he looks, even with a bedsheet draped over his shoulder.
You play into his hand, “Is that some kinda of euphemism?” Feeding his ego with a suggestive arch of your brow. Maybe you’re bold, but you don’t think he’s the type to be deterred by a confident woman. In fact, it seems to make him glow even brighter.
His voice lowers, dripping with an enticing challenge, “Are you looking to find out?” he asks.
His jaw quirks, and you’re mesmerized watching him suck at his lower lip. It looks so perfectly plump and kissable, curling into a smirk as his eyes gleam with mischief. “Come,” he beckons for you to follow him deeper into the party.
“I thought you had a girlfriend,” you say stiffly, remembering what Liv had said as you walked in. He looks at you curiously before shaking his head lightly.
“You mean Cora? From earlier? She’s not my girlfriend. We were just dancing.”
“No,” you shake your head, “I heard it’s all over social media. That you’re loved up.”
“Oh, so you’ve heard of me?” he gives you that cocky smile that absolutely shouldn’t work but somehow makes you feel warm like you’re laying on the warm sand on a beach listening to the waves crashing. You don’t say anything else, and he leans in a little closer, “What’s love got to do with it?” he asks huskily. Dangerously.
It makes you shudder with something warm and twisted.
“Now,” he guides you gently but firmly, “Come.” You need him to stop saying it like an order before you do.
You let him walk you through the party. Weaving through the boisterous crowds. They part easily for him, clearing a path like he’s royalty.
“They call me ‘the Red Viper’ because I’m lethal at any game involving a red Solo cup.” He murmurs it into your ear like it’s a sexy secret.
You laugh brightly at that, giving him a gentle shove. “That’s the lamest thing I’ve ever heard!”
He gives you a coy shrug. “It’s the truth.” He leads you into the backyard, towards the beer pong tables. “I’ll show you,” he says just for you to hear. The string lights illuminate the yard in soft light; however, the mood is anything but romantic, with the drunk cheering college kids taking their drinking games very seriously.
You watch, amused, as one team high-fives each other over their trick shot. At another table, both teams heatedly argue about “house rules.”
“It’s the prince of pong!” one of his fraternity brothers shouts across the lawn. He gives you the most dramatic I told you so glance, and you mouth “lame” back at him. He calls ‘next game,’ and as if he were their lord, one table immediately clears out, forfeiting in a demonstration of fealty.
“Ladies first,” he offers once he’s set up all the cups to his liking. He’s so arrogant about it, and it shouldn’t turn you on, but it absolutely does.
You grin across the table at him. “You’re on.”
He’s merciful at first. You land a few cups, giving you enough confidence to talk shit and tease him. But it rapidly becomes apparent that he’s a man of his word as he easily picks off every cup on your end of the table with precision.
Despite your rapid descent towards a loss, you eat up his charm. His magnetic energy. He makes the rest of the party disappear when he looks at you. It makes your heart tingle and your pussy flutter. He’s a gracious winner, only gloating a little as he reracks the table and offers it up to other party-goers.
“Alright, Viper, you won. You can retain your title.” You admit defeat as he slinks up close to you, ushering you along to the side of the house, only a few steps away but more secluded from the rest of the party.
“And now, will you allow me to claim my prize?” he asks in his smoky, deep voice.
Despite his clear intentions, you feign confusion as he wraps one wide hand around your waist and tilts your chin towards his face with the other. “I didn’t know we were playing for stakes,” you smile brashly. Your skin blazes under his touch and his seductive gaze as his eyes drop to your mouth.
He starts to dip towards you, but you swerve away from him. It’s on the tip of your tongue to ask again if he’s in a relationship. He growls softly, almost a purr, next to your ear. “What’s wrong, my lady?” he murmurs. The intimacy of it is heady, and your surroundings fade.
You want to take whatever he’s offering, no questions, so instead you whisper, “Tell me your real name.”
He sighs softly before giving in and telling you his name.
“Oberyn,” you repeat back, “that’s unique.”
He starts muttering about how he’s an international student, but you’ve got all the info you needed. Now you don’t have to add a guy named Viper to your mental list of hookups.
“I like it,” you cut him off before slotting your mouth against his and making up for ducking out of his last attempt at a kiss with your eagerness. He wraps his arm around you, and you’re transported. One large hand presses against your lower back, urging your hips toward his, and the other cradles your jaw, giving you a sense of stability as he matches your ferocity.
You briefly wonder if you’d have melted if he wasn’t holding you so tightly before your thoughts are consumed by the sensation of his lips against yours and his tongue running along yours. It’s not a kiss you would’ve expected from a frat guy. It’s romantic and passionate, and you feel your body rolling against his, caught up in the sensation and intensity.
You keep going, letting yourself enjoy the moment, eating up the flavor of him, the scent of him, and the throbbing intensifying between your legs. You slip one of your hands along the back of his neck into his soft hair, and he groans into your mouth. It makes your knees weak.
You chase his mouth as he pulls back and looks into your heavy-lidded eyes. Sharing the hot air between you, it feels like a current is looping through your bodies, buzzing with need.
“Let’s go upstairs,” he urges in a gravelly whisper. You can feel him hardening against you. His hand on your back is firm, keeping you flush, pelvis to pelvis, making you nearly dizzy. However, his hand on your jaw is gentle, brushing his thumb along your cheek sweetly. You still can’t help goading just a little.
“What for?” you ask playfully.
“To fuck.”
It makes your cheeks hot. Maybe there should be red flags popping up in your mind, but you don’t care. He likes a bold woman, and you like a direct man.
“Unless you’d rather do it in the grass here,” he tilts his head toward the ground. You act like you’re considering the option seriously, making him laugh before he releases you from his arms. “Don’t tease,” he says with a severe look, “It wouldn’t bother me.”
Me either, you consider before deciding not to say that part aloud. You tell him to take you to a real bed, and he does. Swiftly guiding you into the house and up the stairs, past the pledge guarding the rooms, and into his bedroom. He spins around, pinning you against the door for another searing kiss. It’s more urgent this time. He’s quickly moving to your neck, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your tender skin as you both greedily run your hands along each other’s bodies.
Before you can get your hands under his toga, he’s detaching from you and sinking to his knees. He moves efficiently, bunching up your toga and asking you to hold it. Then he’s hovering his hot mouth over your mound before kissing you over your lacey panties.
“Mmm,” he hums into you and traces the crease of your thighs with one hand, following the line until he’s softly running his fingers along the edge of your panties, the tips of his fingers barely dipping beneath the hem as he moves towards your core. You watch, staring down with your mouth parted as he holds your gaze.
He teases you, running his fingertips along your seam over the soaked fabric, tapping and teasing at your swollen clit through the fabric as he watches your needy expression morph into frustration. You shift, spreading your legs wider, but he stops you with a large hand on each thigh.
“Hold still,” he orders, and you feel compelled to listen. He pulls your underwear down and off of you, then hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, spreading your cunt open. “That’s better.”
You can’t tell if he’s talking to himself or to you. You don’t have a chance to ask before he’s burying his face into your soft, wet pussy. Your breath hitches at the sensation and one of your hands flies out to grab at the door frame to steady you, while the other one digs into Oberyn’s hair.
He’s unbothered by your dramatics. Oberyn moves with enthusiasm, drawing his tongue along your slit and pressing into your sex with his jaw. His facial hair tickles at your tender skin deliciously and his nose grazes over your clit as if his face were molded to maximize your pleasure. He changes his strategy, mouthing at your clit and sweeping his tongue over it like he’s making out with it, with the same passion that he kissed you with outside and a moment ago.
You can feel it starting to build. Your hip flexors straining and thighs starting to tremble as your breathing gets quicker and more shallow. Closer and closer and closer. He’s perceptive and diligent. Repeating the same tricks that make you moan and dig your fingers into his hair.
You’re stuck on the precipice, so close but not quite there. Your eyes roam around the dimly lit room, the bed, the bookshelf, the tapestry pinned to the wall, the collection of cologne bottles lined up on the desk, the mirror on top of the desk–pointing right at the bed.
It starts to frustrate you. Not the decor choices, but the tension and the building pressure. You squirm slightly, hoping the smallest adjustment will somehow bring everything into a sharper focus. You let your eyes close, letting the roar of the party downstairs fade, focusing on the pressure and warmth of Oberyn’s mouth.
More, more, more.
It’s all you can think as Oberyn stays dedicated to getting you off on his tongue. He sucks firmly at your clit before releasing you with a slick sound. He hovers, mouth fanning warm air over your core looking up at you. His eyes are lit with hunger.
“More?” he asks in his deep, rich voice.
You can’t tell if you were chanting out loud or if he’s somehow reading your mind. “Please,” you respond with a needy edge, “more.” You catch the sparkle in his eye and the flash of a grin. He works you up again, towards the brink, relishing in your responses as you whine with need as he resumes holding you in a purgatory of pleasure.
Mercifully, he does give you more. Oberyn grips your thigh with one hand, steadying you, while he swipes two fingers along the length of your pussy once, twice, coating them in your arousal before plunging them inside of you. The increased pressure and friction from his fingers pumping into you causes you to moan. It’s a lower register than your breathy panting from earlier, layered with satisfaction as you can feel the anticipation starting to crest.
“Don’t stop,” you beg, “I’m so close.”
He doesn’t stop, groaning at your words, rumbling against you. That snaps the tension and you cry out his name and a string of curses as your orgasm hits. He doesn’t slow down when your cunt contracts around his fingers and he doesn’t lose focus when you shake and writhe against mouth. Not until you’re pulling him off of you, oversensitive and wrung out.
Oberyn stands, wiping at his chin before pulling you in close for another breathtaking kiss. He walks you back toward the bed and you fall into it, pulling him with you. You tangle together, frantically, you want him inside of you now. He laughs softly against your hot neck, sensing your frustration.
“Shh,” he murmurs as you huff with defeat. He moves deftly, braced over you with one arm, and freeing his cock with the other. Your hands stroke up and down his shoulders and back, and you hook one leg around his hip, encouraging him. “You want me to fuck you now?” he asks and you whisper a yes that turns into a gasp as he runs his tip through your soaked center. “And how do you want it?”
“Hard.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, sinking into you deeper and deeper, and pulling back, all the way out, then all the way in. “Fuck,” he says to himself as he sets a quick pace, slaming his hips into yours making the bedframe creak with every thrust. If the noise from the party didn’t drown everything else out, you might be embarrassed to have strangers over hear, but you would be surprised if anyone could hear a thing. And, even if you were louder than the party, you could care less about being caught as Oberyn fucks you into the mattress.
“Harder,” you goad him, hoping for more. To your horror he pulls out of you completely, but you swiftly find yourself flipped onto your stomach as he lifts your hips and enters you from behind. You press back, meeting his thrusts, bouncing off of his hips until he presses his palm between your shoulder blades. He forces your chest into the mattress, holding you still so he can fuck you like he means it, with enough force that all you can do brace yourself and ball your fists, twisting the bedding between your fingers.
With your cheek against the bed you can watch your reflection in the mirror. It’s hot, even with your togas draped and bunched up, you look good together. It makes you grin. He catches you looking and turns, meeting your eyes in the mirror before watching your bodies. He grips your hips firmly and you can barely keep your eyes open to watch as he continues.
He overwhelms you with his stamina, keeping up a pace that has your mind feeling blissfully fuzzy. He says something else before folding over you and slipping his hand around towards your clit, determined to feel you come around his cock. You’re so close already, it’s only a moment, a few more thrusts, before shuddering beneath him. He tries to fuck you through it, but you clench and constrict around him so tightly that he pulls out while you’re still moaning.
You can hear the slick wet sounds as he strokes himself, cursing under his breath again, before you feel the warmth as he comes across the swell of your ass and your fluttering cunt. You sink, dropping your hips and relaxing onto the bed while he catches his breath. Oberyn squeezes at your thighs, offering praise you don’t quite hear, then he’s slipping off the bed. He cleans you up with a towel, but you remain still for a little longer, enjoying the satisfaction and the sweet ache from the intensity.
“Take your time,” he tells you, leaning down to press a kiss to your shoulder. It’s gentle. You murmur a thanks at him before breaking into an airy giggle. It makes your ribcage shake, bouncing slightly on the mattress, realizing that Liv is going to die when you tell her you can confirm her roommates story. Oberyn doesn’t question your reaction.
He pauses to readjust his toga and his hair in the mirror. Once seemingly satisfied, he turns back towards you, watching you sit up. “I’ll see you out there,” he says with a smile before he slips out of the room.
You linger for just a little. Allowing yourself the privacy to revel in the sweet satisfaction of the post-sex chemicals flowing through your body. You let yourself grin while you check your phone to see where Liv is at.
You take another minute, using the mirror to fix your own appearance, aiming for a slightly less obvious version of I just got railed, before meeting your own eyes. For a sobering second you remember you didn’t get a real answer about if he has a girlfriend. He sure as fuck doesn’t act like it, you decide. You shake off the thought.
He might be a frat bro, he might be a piece of shit, all you know for sure is that he is hot, a good kisser, and he knew how to make you come. Three things you didn’t think you’d find in one guy under this roof. You give yourself a final onceover before heading out of the room and down the stairs.
You don’t see Oberyn in the first few rooms you pass. You keep looking; he couldn’t have gone far. You’re barely finished that thought when you spot him in the kitchen. The sight makes you stumble, shooting a hand out to the wall to catch your balance.
He’s leaning casually, with his hip against the counter, as a starry-eyed girl looks up at him, giggling flirtatiously, as she lays a hand along his bicep.
It’s in slow motion. The way he looks at her hand, the way his eyes trail along her arm, over the curve of her breasts, and down her legs before flitting back to her face with that same sinful smirk you just fell for.
Your shoulders drop. It’s not like you were planning your wedding or that you even thought a date was on the table—but you didn’t think he’d be on to the next girl before you made it down the stairs.
You start to recenter yourself, reaching to check your phone again before you look for Liv.
He sees you before you can mind your business and plan your next move. Catching your eye through the doorway. Before you can formulate a reaction, you’re stuck, held in his gaze. He winks at you again, only this time there’s no question if you were making it up. He winked at you and despite everything, it makes your whole body tingle.
“I saw that!” Liv shouts into your ear, wrapping an arm around you. “You have to tell me what the fuck that was about. But first can we please get pancakes or cheese fries?”
You don’t bother turning back for a second glance as you follow Liv toward the front door.
You must understand though the touch of your hand
Makes my pulse react
That it's only the thrill of boy meeting girl
Opposites attract
It's physical
Only logical
You must try to ignore that it means more than that
Oh, oh, oh
What's love got to do, got to do with it?
…..
tags for babes, but no presh:
@lovely-vamp-princess
@gothcsz
@auteurdelabre
@adoreyouusugar
@swankyorange
@itwasntimethatdidit40
@ivoryandflame
@magneticecstasy
#fucktober#birthday baroness#oberyn x f!reader#oberyn martell x f!reader#oberyn martell smut#posting at 3 in the morning my time as per usual
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— IN THE SUMMERTIME ♱ bradley “rooster” bradshaw x reader
-> when the weather is high
pairings — bradley “rooster” bradshaw x fem!reader
© content/ trigger warning — a sassy (sexual) remark from jake, swearing, teasing, shirtless roo 😍😍, sassy roo
juno yaps — ERMMMM I LOVE BRADLEY ☺️ also your callsign is apollo
requested? — yes/no (@jaidens, @ivyppoison)
word count — 437
The persistent rays of the golden sun beat down on Breakers Beach in sunny Coronado, California. As a warm overlay coated the Top Gun pilots, they engaged in a competitive game of beach football.
13 recruits battled it out, tackling one another basking in the warm summer sun. Lieutenant Y/n "Apollo" L/n ran to catch the ball, the sun complimenting her features perfectly. As she caught the football she ran to the "endzone" which, in reality, was just a line traced in the sand.
However, before the pilot could make it to the endzone, a pair of muscular arms paired with a toned abdomen wrapped around the girls waist, bringing them both to meet the sand. A laugh escaped Y/n's mouth as she was now on top of a shirtless Bradley.
"Fancy seeing you here, Sunshine." he teased, leading to an infamous eye roll from his girlfriend.
"Y'know, Apollo is way more intimidating than sunshine, being he's like a god and all?" she retorted. Bradleys smug smile paired with an eyebrow raise.
"Is that so, Sunshine?" he asked, continuing to use the nickname. She hit his chest playfully with the football still on top of him.
"Alright, alright if you two are going to do the hokey pokey please, for the love of all things holy go get a room, lovebirds." Jake Sershin spoke up, teasing the couple. The other lieutenants laughed. Y/n stopped straddling Bradley and got up, dusting herself off from the sand, a light tint of red masking her cheeks, although she was slightly sunburnt so it blended in plenty.
"Never use the term hokey pokey again." Bradley said in a jokingly disgusted voice, pointing a finger at Jake. He put his hands up in defense and pursed his lips.
"Now are we going to play or what, lovebirds?" he asked the couple, teasingly. Y/n took the ball from Bradleys veiny hands, she grabbed the side of his face with the other hand and kissed his slightly chapped lips perfectly. He kissed back with the same amount of passion despite the kiss being quite chaste and short.
'What was that for?" he asked, an eyebrow slightly raised. Y/n shrugged.
"Oh just for goodluck, because I'm going to kick your ass Chicken." she responded with the same energy as he had before. Bradley had a look of slight shock on his face, a breathy laugh escaping his lips. The others responded with an array of whoops and hollers and "ooo"s. Bradley licked his lips before opening his mouth to respond.
"You're on Sunshine." he smiled, pulling down his aviator sunglasses to wink at the girl.
#—juno writes.#top gun#top gun maverick#top gun x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster x reader#rooster x you#top gun maverick x reader#jake seresin#jake “hangman” sershin
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hey bestie <3
I’d like to request a birthday smut with death island! Leon please and thank you 💕
wrote this on phone bc im on a trip and my phone is actually starting to drop dead so </3 time for a new phone ig. But!! here's something 💕 (don't point out mistakes or weird formatting, my phone is ASS)
Leon never liked being late in any way.
Traffic was his arch nemesis because it always resulted to him getting late to work – which also resulted in numerous lectures from his higher-ups.
Another thing he hated; alarms.
Those fuckers either don't do their jobs or are just for show – or maybe he should be getting a new phone or an actual rooster to cock-a-doodle-doo at the glimpse of the sunrise.
Late to events were even worse than mundane things. The amount of times the President would give him a look that simply said "you're late and I'm not impressed" were endless. It wasn't like he had much of a choice when he'd be fresh out of a mission or an assignment that he'd wear the wrong colour of suit, or mismatch his socks in a hurry.
Not to mention. Fucking. Traffic.
However, there was one thing Leon for sure hated the most, absolutely revolted at the idea.
Missing your birthday.
Much to his shitty worse line of luck, he was ordered to rush to the Alcatraz Island for an assignment. To his luck, some deranged guy with a bucket load of issues and untreated trauma decided on a random Sunday at church that he was going to be playing God and start an outbreak via mosquitoes.
Leon was never going to catch a break. All the time at the island, the agent couldn't stop thinking about how to make it up to you. Even when he was infected with the virus and minutes away from losing his last bits of humanity, you were on his mind all the time.
When he returned home, you had opened the door to a bruised and bandaged up Leon with a bouquet of roses in hand. A tired but apologetic tilted grin was on his face, his side leaning against the doorframe.
"Happy... Late birthday, sweetheart..."
While he didn't expect you to be mad at him, a tiny nagging something within him relaxed when you were nowhere near upset. Your worry and glee that he was back in one piece made you forget about your birthday, your arms residing around his neck into a tight embrace where his arms went for your waist – where they belonged.
But the flowers weren't his only way of apologizing – because what started as a simple reunion kiss turned into something more and hotter.
"Oh, fuck..."
His voice was breathy right next to your ear, nearly over clouding the creaking sounds of the bed. His skin was searingly hot against yours, your body painted with hickies and lovebites. Galaxies and nebulas in all the right spots, painless and painful.
Yet they were tomorrow's problem.
His hand was pinning your wrist to the mattress, the other gripping the back of your knee to push it back against your chest. His fingers were digging into your flesh, his hips moving in a perfectly powerful rhythm that had your mind reeling.
"Oh, god... Ah, Leon–nhh~" Your moans were his favourite sound. A sex playlist would usually be on, but on nights like these, it'd be just you and him.
His cock was diving into your pussy, emitting that moist gushing noise the harder he moved. Your clit was throbbing with how intense the pleasure was for you, bringing you a lot closer to yet another orgasm. You really tried to keep track of how many times Leon had made you cum, but after four, everything just became a mixed haze of lust and longingness.
Leon grunted lowly, his blueblue eyes observing your expressions sharply. His lips were parted for your own favourite sounds, his groans and growly moans sending shivers to your core; red and swollen from the countless hickies on your body and kissing you.
Those lips of yours were absolutely intoxicating.
The blunt tip of his bigbig cock was slamming into your walls, going almost rogue as your arousal and previous orgasms dripped and dropped to the drenched sheets.
You never knew you could squirt, but Leon was confident in his skills. It took time, and god was it worth it.
Your face was flushed, your free hand on his back with your nails digging into him. You could feel his toned muscles flexing and shifting right beneath his skin. Your gaze trailed up to him, your moans and soft whines escaping nonstop.
"L–Le– f–fuck, you're too," You keened, your other leg wrapping around his waist, whimpering as your walls squeezed hard on his thick dick, "deep!"
"Oh, yeah?" Leon muttered, the corner of his lips irking upwards into an amused smirk.
That was the last thing you heard before he released your wrist only to switch his grip to your other leg. He hooked both legs into either of his elbows, pushing them onto his shoulders and easily tugging you close to him his figure towering over you completely. His cock hit that spot in you, bringing stars to your eyes with a hitched squeak.
His whole length was inside, especially when he leaned over you, causing his pelvis to brush against your needy pearl. His hands returned to your waist to keep you pinned in place, his hips relentless as he pounded into you.
"Mmh, that's deeper, isn't it, honey?" Leon hummed, his thrusts growing ruthless as he fucked you with vigour, pushing a moan from him, "Oh, fuck... You're just so fucking wet and tight for me..."
"Nnh! Oh, g–god! Leon!" You cried out, your body starting to tremble and your arm joined the other around his back, your nails forming angry red crescent moons, "S–shit!"
The pleasure was looming once again, the knot within you tightening more and more. Leon's hips were out of his control, revealing he was just as close to his peak as you were.
Leon groaned, his eyes screwing shut for a second as he felt your walls starting to clasp around his cock as if trying to feel every ridge and bulging vein on it. His toes curled up on the bed sheets, his thighs tensing.
"Oh, fuck, fuck..." Leon let out a choked sound, his desperation to release causing his voice to break and hitch into a lower octave.
"Leon, I–" Your moans cut you off, whining as your legs trembled over his shoulders, "'m gonna, ah!"
Leon's lustful eyes found yours, for a second his love for you spilling through the thick dirty haze and he couldn't help but feel every so grateful for having someone to return home to.
Someone to fight for when the world's going to shit.
His lips met yours hard in a searing heated kiss, your breathless moans making it a bit difficult but it all felt just right. It ticked you off first when he dove his cock to the hilt, pistoning into your squelching cunt and pressing up against your clit.
A loud moan went muffled, swallowed by him as he groaned against your lips. The white-hot pleasure rattled your bones, coiling around your muscles at the intensity that your back arched off the bed. Your gushy walls clamped tight around his cock, consequently pushing him straight to the peak he craved.
His lips parted from yours to push his face into the crook of your neck, his hips stuttering to a stop flush against yours as if trying to keep his twitching cock as deep he could. His groan was, if not, just as loud even when he obviously tried to stay quiet. His cum spurted out thickly, filling you up so good and so warm. You could almost feel it in your tummy at this point.
A shaky exhale escaped from him, his hips moving again but at a slower pace, gently riding you both down from your cloud nine. He panted heavily as he moved his face away from your neck, his eyes shut as his lips peppered kisses from your jaw, cheek, inching closer to the corner of your lips before sealing them with his.
You faint hum merged with his, your hands kneeding and massaging against the angry scratches on his back. His hips retreated slowly, slipping his cock out that was still visibly twitching and his cum seaping and dripping from the red tip. A string of his climax connected between him and your abused cunt.
Leon parted from the kiss, his sweaty fringes dangling with the tips brushing against your forehead. One of his hands reached up to the side of your face, his gaze doing their usual scan to make sure you were okay and that he didn't go too far.
"I'm okay..." You whispered softly, your voice just as breathy as you brushing away his bangs which only dangled wetly about so your hand rested on his neck, your thumb tracing the stubble across his jawline, and with a faint giggle, "And I forgive you."
Leon chuckled, his eyes growing gentle as he caressed your sides gingerly, "Good, maybe I should start missing your birthdays a bit more, yeah?"
You huffed, lightly smacking his shoulder, "Don't push it."
"Yeah, yeah," He smiled before carefully setting your legs back onto the bed which they only fell limply, still shaking and he squeezed your thighs, "Okay, I'll get us water and something to drink, then we'll continue."
That made you blink, confused as you tilted your head to the side, watching him as he sat at the edge of the bed with his eyes trying to locate his boxers at least. With a soft groan, you pushed yourself up onto your elbows, giving him a puzzled look when he stood up and slipped on his undergarment.
"Continue?" You repeated, your heart starting to pound once again, "We're not done?"
Leon gave you a look as if you had grown another head and he approached you, his hand pressing into the pillow next to your head and the other tilting your chin up with just his index and thumb.
"Of course we're not done, birthday girl." Leon grinned, his nose brushing against yours, "Still gotta make up for our anniversary."
Way to go for Leon asking you to be his on your birthday.
#leon kennedy#resident evil#leon s kennedy#cupid answers#leon scott kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#resident evil infinite darkness#leon s kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x reader smut#leon kennedy thirst hours#leon#leon kennedy smut#resident evil death island#leon kennedy death island
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saige’s terrortober presents…
future
seeing how good tetsuro is with kids has you wanting him to put one in you.
camp counselor!tetsuro kuroo x fem!reader
contents/warnings: breeding, unprotected doggystyle, vaginal fingering, kitten and mama petnames, mentions of marriage and babymaking, no pregnancy reader is on birth control, reader and kuroo are in college and work at a camp
wc: 1.4k
18+ MINORS DNI
the crisp fall air felt even more refreshing at night. the changing colors surrounded the camp in pretty hues of orange and red, matching the warm flames crackling away in the middle of the circle. storytimes are firepit were always a hit during the fall season, when the camp operated more as a babysitting service for couples on a date night rather than the usual summer sleepaway. it was honestly nice, allowing you to keep your counselor job into the start of the semester without having to work as many hours so you had time for your coursework.
the convenience wasn’t the only thing you loved, though.
“the group inched closer to the closet, flashlights held tight in their hands as they crept through the dark,” kuroo narrated, voice projecting so every kid listening in could hear.
you smiled at the way your boyfriend had them all on the edge of their seat, everyone’s undivided attention on the rooster head as he told his tale. he knew exactly when to pause for dramatic effect or when to emphasize a certain point. it was honestly impressive how great of a storyteller he was.
“they finally reached the door, turning the knob slowly and opening the door with a loud creak only to find…a report card! full of f’s!”
the kids all laughed, seemingly amused with the funny twist kuroo chose to end his story with. he didn’t want to send the kids back to their homes too scared, now. you chuckled along with them, heart feeling all warm watching the way he interacted with the children.
in your three years of dating, it was not lost on you how naturally amazing kuroo was with kids. he always treated them with the same kindness and respect he would give an adult, and you could see the content smile that would come onto his face whenever a youngster would engage in conversation with him.
not only was it precious, but it was honestly attractive. you were nearing the end of your college years, graduation on the horizon, and he’d already brought up the m word multiple times- not to mention you caught him studying the sizes of your rings that one time. while you told him not to rush anything, you knew he was the one you were going to marry. not only that, but this was the man that would most likely be fathering your children, and every time you saw him bring a smile to a kid’s face, it just reminded you of how amazing of a dad he was going to be.
and that made you want him so much.
knowing that he would take such good care of you and your potential babies drove you up the wall, wishing you could skip to your white picket fence era despite telling him that the two of you were young and didn’t need to be in a hurry.
kuroo caught you staring at him from across the firepit and sent you his signature grin, and you had to resist the urge to press your thighs together, knowing that this wasn’t the place.
the thoughts were still shuffling around in your mind when kuroo drove the two of you back to his apartment later, shift finally over now that all of the children had been picked up by their guardians. visions were dancing across your brain of him gently rocking a little baby, giving piggyback rides to a toddler, teaching a child how to spike a volleyball.
your boyfriend had noticed you were much more quiet than usual but chose not to question it. he figured you would talk once the two of you got home.
the elevator trip once you arrived was silent, and kuroo was starting to worry that there really was something bothering you.
so imagine his surprise when your lips were crashing against his the second he locked his front door, smaller hands gripping his shoulder and pulling him down to your height. his eyes went a little wide in surprise before he closed them and melted into the kiss, never one to look a gift horse in the face.
you pulled away to gasp for air and he grinned, bringing a thumb up to press against your bottom lip.
“what’s gotten into you, kitten?”
nothing could prepare him for what you said next, your eyes glassy and breath labored.
“wanna have a baby with you.”
now wasn’t the time, both of you knew that, and it was mainly just the lust talking at the moment. however, the idea still filled both of you with a sense of excitement and adrenaline. you were on birth control, but a little practice for the real deal in the future couldn’t hurt, right?
you felt his large hands snake under your t-shirt, forehead coming to rest against yours.
“is that right? my pretty girl wants to become a mommy?”
you nodded. “wanna make you a daddy.”
he hummed at that, beginning to kiss you once more as he backed you towards his bedroom, tugging both of your shirts off in the process. each of you were shedding your clothes, nude as can be by the time you reached the bed.
kuroo gave you one final kiss before commanding you to get on the bed.
“all fours.”
you did as you were told, keeping your ass towards him and arching the way he liked. you heard him step towards you and almost cried when you felt his fingers teasing at your entrance.
he slowly pumped his index and middle in and out of you, amazed at how wet your cunt already was. how long had you been wanting this?
not in the mood to waste time, you craned your neck to look at him, a desperate look in your eyes.
“inside, tetsu! want you inside now!”
he normally would refuse, insisting on prepping you. but tonight you had asked for a baby. you asked for a baby as if you knew about the endless dreams and fantasies in his head of you with a sweet little bump on your belly.
he’d give into your plea to forego foreplay tonight, but only this once. only because you managed to hit him where it really hurts.
the moan that tore from your throat as he split you open was the neediest he’d ever heard, and he wasted no time in starting to cant his hips as deep as possible. you were mewling, trying to push back to meet his thrusts each time, the want to be filed fogging your mind.
“so good! so good!”
you felt his hand between your shoulder blades, pressing down to arch your back even more. he groaned as he started to hit even further down in your walls, as if he was trying to get as close to your cervix as he could.
“good girl, such a good fucking girl for me.”
he didn’t think he’d ever felt your pussy grip him this tight. you were going to milk him for everything he was worth, and he honestly couldn’t wait.
you felt him lean over you, his chest against your back as his hot breath fanned against your ear.
“gonna be the prettiest mama ever. can’t wait to see how beautiful you look carrying my baby.”
you whined at his words.
“baby! want your baby, tetsu! want it so bad!”
“fuck.”
your cries had him pistoning into you even faster, so ready to give into your pleas and grant you your wish. maybe not today, but someday.
the coil in his stomach had grown so taught, and from the way your thighs were shaking, he knew yours had, too. he brought his thumb to your clit, knowing it would be the last shove you needed to tumble over the edge with him.
“where do you want it, kitten?”
he already knew the answer.
“inside! inside inside inside, please!”
one last rub at your sensitive nub had the wave of pleasure crashing over you, your orgasm sending kuroo into his own as he spilled his cum deep into your cunt. you’d never felt so full in your life.
you slumped against the bed, boneless. you heard kuroo chuckle behind you and felt a kiss pressed to the crown of your head.
“come on, mama,” kuroo said. “don’t go tapping out on me just yet.”
____
saige’s terrortober masterlist
#saige’s terrortober#kuroo x reader#kuroo tetsuro x reader#kuroo tetsurou x reader#tetsuro kuroo x reader#tetsurou kuroo x reader#kuroo tetsurou#kuroo tetsuro#tetsuro kuroo#kuroo tetsuro smut#tetsuro kuroo smut#kuroo x you#kuroo tetsuro x you#haikyuu smut#haikyuu x reader
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Bowline (B.B/Reader)
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw/Reader (slight jake/reader)
a/n: big shout out to @vivwritesfics who helped me with figuring out the plot in my head and finding a name for Jakes soulmate, I probably wouldn't have gotten back into writing fan fiction with them
Word count; 2574 (!!)
description: Bowline knot: a fixed knot used to tie a square sail to the bow of a ship to keep the sail from being taken by the wind.
Nobody said having a soulmate was easy
genre(s) Soulmate au, angst, slight hurt/comfort, rebound dating
warnings: implied age gap (rooster is canonically 38, reader can be read as anyone 20-25) implied sexual content, rebound dating, cheating, canon character death
Bradley doesn’t remember when his string finally attached to another person. He remembers being a kid and asking his mom why it was short, hanging limp from his ring finger and so close to him he could see the end, but no soulmate. She would always console him, tell him the universe was just taking its time on his special someone. His mother didn’t like to talk about her own string however, at least not after his father died. If he asked her though, she would regale him with stories of her short time living with her soulmate, how when they first met Nick had attempted to tie the string into a heart but failed so miserably Carole spent the first two hours of knowing him trying to unknot it through her laughs. She would never tell him how when she looked down to see the frayed end of her string her heart almost stopped in the grocery store. All Bradley remembered was looking down some time in his teens, and suddenly having a person on the other end of it, suddenly having a person fated to love him. When he entered the naval academy he hated that string. Hated how he was so scared of leaving whoever was on the other end like his mother, forever staring at that damn torn string and mourning a person they might have ripped from them too soon. Learning to fly only made him hate it more. He was too cautious, too distracted by the tug on that damned tug to fly properly at first. His first deployment was the worst, the string getting pulled so taut that he thought it might cut his finger. His flying got better after that deployment but his thoughts about soulmates were only solidified.
He hated soulmates.
This wasn’t fair. Why is he being forced to love someone he's never met? Why is he fated to think about how every time he gets in an aircraft, he could hurt them as bad as his mother was? Bradley probably spent days of his life trying to untie that cursed string.
You never had that apprehension, from the moment you were born the string stretched into the unknown, moved, was alive. You grew up experimenting with that poor little red string, trying to see how tightly you could pull it, how far you could run before you felt even a smidge of movement. In middle school, when the first boy showed you any interest, you demanded he show you his string before you would date him. And when you saw no red on his finger, you told him you didn't want to waste anyone's’ time when you weren’t destined to be together. Your string only pulled tighter on your finger after that day. To you your soulmate wasn’t the same burden Bradley saw you as. His existence being a gift for you to unwrap when the universe felt you deserving. So, you decided to do whatever you could to make yourself ‘worthy’ of your soulmate. Going to the naval academy straight out of high school and entering the United States navy as an aircrewman mechanical officer and spending any and all time you could doing anything to help those around you. Tutoring, volunteering, anything you could to learn more about people. Anything you could to bring you closer to him.
It was always interesting when you felt the string fluctuate between tightening and going lax on your finger, every deployment forcing you to think of where in the world your soulmate could be. When stationed in a country besides your own you wondered if that string would even loosen. On the deck of the ships you've been on would it tighten as you spent months on the sea?
Some deployments were weirder than others, you would swear up and down that the whole time you were on the ship your string would stay loose enough to slip from your finger if you wanted to. You never tried. On those deployments you tried to pay extra attention to who was on the ship with you, you tried to see if you followed the string if you could find him more than once only to come up empty. This surprised you at first, it's a finite space, surely someone would have the other end, would the vast sea hide the string? Pull it underwater and out of your view, even if it hadn’t on any of your other deployments? But no, every time you would leave the ship alone, not having noticed the string tightening as the pilots took off. Not wanting to think your soulmate was avoiding you.
But he was. The second he discovered you were his soulmate, Bradley informed any friends he could trust to understand his stance on soulmates and created a system. He had a look out at all times, someone there to warn him you were near, or distract you long enough for him to make a quick get-away. His whole system crashed when he arrived back on deck after the uranium mission, everyone was too busy celebrating his and Petes survival for anyone to notice your eyes zeroing in on the red string on his hand. At first, you’re ecstatic to finally have the missing piece to your puzzle, the giant keyring finally producing the key to your lock.
It's only then you notice him actively avoiding you. You count at least five times before the ship docks back in San Diego
The first is immediately after you find out he’s your soulmate. He catches your eye and slinks off in the dispersing crowd, removing his helmet at some point to blend in a little better with the other sailors and pilots.
The second is later that night, you approach him on the way to eat and get cut off by Jake, who insists on standing so Bradley is just out of your line of sight no matter how many times you try to side step him. You don't pay attention to a word he says, you don't respond either, but the heartbroken look you don the second you realize Bradley has slipped from your grasp nearly makes Jake give up on his quest then and there.
You almost catch him the third time, running into him by accident as he leaves the shower talking with a sailor you can’t remember the name of. He pretends not to hear you calling out for his attention. Pretends like you're not calling out for ‘the man with the mustache’ since you don’t know his name. The sailor he's speaking with questions him on it but Bradley excuses it as having not heard you.
By the fourth time you try and get his attention you've nearly given up. You learned his name and callsign from an aviator on deck not aware of his plan on avoiding you his whole life. Bob feels terrible for you when you inform him what’s going on between you and his friend, and readily gives you the information, making a mental note to chew Rooster out for hurting an innocent person, for never explaining himself. You approach Bradley when he’s just barely sat for dinner, expecting him to stay seated at least, but nope! The second you call his name He stands and leaves. What hurt the most was the sad looks his friends give you as you stand at the end of the table, doing your best to keep your bearings and not cry in front of the dining hall.
The last time you count him ignoring you it’s about an hour later, when he catches you crying and trying to pry the string off your finger, begging whatever higher power to give you a soulmate who would love you back. Begging for answers to what you did so wrong to deserve this.
He doesn't comfort you.
After that night you stop counting. You stop trying to speak to him, just stare at the string and hate it, hate who's on the other side. It isn’t until several months after the deployment you see him again, out at the hard deck flirting with a girl in a skirt that hugs all the right places, in a shirt that makes her chest pop. Rooster isn’t looking at her eyes. The brandy in your hand is downed quickly while you ignore the sting of a drink meant to be sipped. You really try to hate her for the way she was able to get so close to your soulmate. Closer than you’ve ever been.
It could have been the alcohol, or the heartbreak that spurred you to find a rebound, you aren’t quite sure. All you could think was finding someone to dull your pain, to be your firsts, to hurt him like he hurt you. Your brain, ever the genius, lands on Jake. Before you can change your mind, you steel your nerves, bee line for the all-American man, and pull him out to the beach by his wrist. He seems to be just as drunk as you feel because as soon as you stop his hands are on your hips, and he's asking, “what can I do for such a pretty girl?” he practically purrs in your ear as his hands start to wonder at your sides.
You aren't expecting your own quiet voice to respond with “take me to bed pretty boy, make me forget.” you lay your own shaking hands against his biceps leaning into his chest and hold on tightly, afraid if you pull away even a little bit you’ll lose him too. Jake is all too happy to agree, pulling you to his truck and taking your firsts, the entire time you try not to think about Bradley, or the red string on your finger shackling you to him forever.
This dance with jake goes on for months, the two of you do on a date that ends at the hard deck, you hang onto him all night while you steadily get more drunk (if this bothers rooster he doesn't show it) and when you feel that the two of you are drunk enough you beg him to take you home and sleep with you. The whole time he does you try not to think about how badly you wish it was your soulmate sleeping with you. After about 4 months of this the pain of Bradley not wanting you starts to fade enough that you can start joking with the pilots at the hard deck, you’re more comfortable staying sober in the presence of Bradley, more comfortable thinking of Jake as your boyfriend. You make some great friends during this time; Bob and you get along so well that you begin Friday night movie nights. With Jake and you beginning to rebuild your opinions on love. You’re happy with him for about a year before he meets Rosie.
There’s nothing off with your relationship with Jakes after he first meets her, he takes a little longer to answer your texts, sure, but then again, he always took forever to answer. He doesn't invite you out to the hard deck as much but then again you don’t always have to be with your boyfriend. You actually don't notice anything is off until Bob calls you from the hard deck and asks you nicely to join him for a drink. It’s when you arrive that you notice something off, hanging off Jakes’ arm is the perfect, glowing woman. The two of them seem so perfect together that you already know why Bob called you over. You appreciate him for uncovering the truth for you, but this appreciation doesn’t fix the sharp pain in your heart at seeing the happy new couple.
You barely even hear the shout of your name as you swiftly walk out the doors of the Hard deck and onto the beach, you barely notice that it's Bradley running after you and not Bob. When you do notice him, you anger starts to simmer in your stomach and you turn on your heel to face him “What, Bradley. What could you possibly want from me now.” you bark at him, not waiting for his response. “YOU’RE the one who didn't want ME, remember? I tried to get to know you, I tried to be it for you. And you didn’t want it. And now I'm trying to be alone just like you wanted and yet, here you are!” By this point the anger in your stomach is boiling over, spilling into your soul and slowly infecting it. You let out a loud, drawn-out groan “It's not FAIR, what have I done! What did I do to you?” The yelling is hurting your head, you thought you ran out of tears to cry over Bradley years ago but here they are, threatening to spill over. “Why don't you love me? I'm supposed to be yours…” your voice breaks, and so does the dam. Tears flow from you freely now and you drop to your knees sobbing.
“It's not you.” he softly promises to you “When-” Bradley takes a deep breath before beginning again “when my dad died, it broke my mom. She couldn't truly be happy without him, no matter what we did.” Bradley begins to silently toy with the red string as he speaks to you softly, like a wounded animal he risks spooking off. “At first, I didn't have to worry about leaving anybody behind, I didn't have a soulmate, so I always planned on flying. But then I looked down one day and there it was, going all the way to you.” The word vomit from Bradley isn’t seeming to stop, he explains everything to you, from how his mom felt after the death of his dad to the fear he felt when he first started flying. How if he flew too far the string would tighten and all he could think about was putting this faceless person through the same thing his mother went through. The entire time he’s tying a knot in the string, untying it, and retying the same knot.
“This is a bowline knot.” he states after being silent for a moment “Mav taught me it. Sailors used to use it to keep the wind from blowing the sail away. I'm not very good at it.” he laughs softly and begins to wipe the drying tears off your face “I'm not good at relationships either. But I'm willing to try. I want to try not to get blown away in the wind.” he inches closer, peering into your eyes. “Will you let me try? Will you let me make it up to you?” you can’t muster up the strength to speak, instead nodding your head. Bradley leans in, just a little further softly kissing you while cupping your cheeks. It's not what you thought kissing your soulmate for the first time would be like, there were no fireworks or life changing revelations. It wasn’t overly Passionate, like you would never get this chance again, you weren't used to the feel of his mustache yet. It was just a kiss, an awkward kiss, but it held so much promise, promise to stick around, to work it out. It was like he was trying to communicate all the emotions he didn't know how to articulate to you. So much that you're inclined to believe him.
#top gun x reader#rooster top gun#top gun fandom#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick#rooster x you#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster x reader#rooster fanfiction#rooster imagine#miles teller#bob top gun#top gun hangman
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Make You Mine This Season
Summary: It’s your second Christmas with Bradley and the holidays are always better with him by your side. After the perfect day out, you come home with a new accessory- just not the one you were hoping for.
Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader
Length: 8K
Warnings: so much fluff and some allusions to smut and a cast that looks like a candy cane.
(Author’s Note: set in the Oh, Christmas Tree universe, can be read on its own)
You can’t fight the smile on your face as you watch Bradley studiously stare at the Christmas tree with a delicate glass icicle ornament dangling from his long finger.
“I think it need to go a little to the left, Roos,” you say, watching the way the little golden thread attached to it gleams from the many strands of white lights he had spun around it earlier in the afternoon.
The contrast between your handsome Naval aviator boyfriend and the very large, very fluffy pink Christmas tree he had bought for you would never not thoroughly charm you.
“Here?” he asks, moving the dainty icicle to the left per your suggestion.
“Maybe just a bit up?”
Bradley moves it and holds it up to a spot near the little glass Hawaiian shirt ornament you’d gotten for him. He was so amused by it that he’d given it what he called a place of honor on the tree.
“Hmm, no. I think back to the right and down a smidge.”
He turns and shoots you a smirk over his broad shoulder, “Ok, now you’re just messing with me.”
And then he hangs it on the tree with a flourish.
You laugh when he steps back and gives a dramatic sweep of the hand that would put Vanna White to shame.
Ever the showman.
He had been so excited when he’d found the ornaments in the storage locker he’d kept in Virginia earlier in the summer when the two of you had taken a quick trip to there to pack up the remaining things he’d left behind and bring them home.
The sleeves on the flannel plaid shirt he is wearing are rolled up highlighting his forearms and that snug fitting tank and the ridges of his abs on full display. You’d taken the liberties to sneak in a few glances as he’d bent over to grab ornaments out of the large plastic storage container you keep them in.
It’s an easy choice to abandon the silvery glittery Fa-la-la-la garland that you had been working on hanging on that tricky bit of wall space beneath the stairs to come stand next to him by the tree.
Plus, you know that you can get Bradley to put it up for you- even though he hates the feeling of glitter on his hands- if you offer to make him an Old Fashioned in exchange.
He drapes his arm over your shoulders and drops a kiss to the top of your head as you wrap your arms around his waist, the two of you taking a moment to admire the pretty twinkling tree in front of you with Bob Hope crooning softly on the background.
You love this tree.
And not because it is the most wonderfully ostentatious thing you’ve ever seen. Or because he’d surprised you with it when he asked you to move in with him the year before. But because it was one of the many ways he showed you just how important you were to him, just how much he paid attention to you.
Bradley kept asking what you wanted for Christmas this year, but you’d been avoiding giving him an answer.
Because he was the only thing on your list this year.
You would gladly never have a real tree again as long as it meant that Bradley got to be yours forever.
His allergy to pine trees had taken both of you by surprise last year. Before that chaotic afternoon last December, he had never had a real tree before, but it didn’t take long until his normally sunkissed skin has been covered in angry red hives.
And that gorgeous seven-foot Noble Fir that you had selected from the Christmas tree lot had quickly become Jake’s gorgeous seven-foot Noble Fir.
But you’ll never forget that magical moment when you had walked into his cozy living room to see that candy colored confection of a tree for the first time and how proud Bradley had been to be the one to make your dreams of a pink tree Christmas come true.
It was something you had only ever mentioned once in passing, but that’s who Bradley Bradshaw is. The type of man who goes above and beyond for the people he loves.
Last year, the two of you had just picked up a couple boxes of basic multicolored bobbles to hang on the tree. But this year, your pretty pink tree has some new decorations that you’d collected along the way since then.
The sparkling frosty mug was something he’d found at the airport on the way back from when you’d taken him home to meet your parents for the first time. To no one’s surprise, they’d loved him. He’d had a lot of fun at the breweries you’d taken him to and you liked getting to see a tipsy and pink cheeked Bradley Bradshaw.
There was a blue miniature model toy Bronco with a bottle-brush Christmas tree hanging out the back was one you’d recently found at a Christmas market you went to with Nat and Bob the previous weekend. You’ve never handed over your credit card for something so quickly before in your life.
There was even a shiny shamrock that Jake had picked up to commemorate your first- and last- Leprechaun Run.
It was a promise you were coerced into making in exchange for Jake’s help and the use of his truck to move your things into Bradley’s place the weekend after you happily agreed to live in with him. You were planning on waiting until after the beginning of the New Year, but Rooster wouldn’t hear of it. You were able to hold off for a few days, but he’d made some rather compelling points with his mouth that had swayed your mind pretty quickly.
That New Year’s Eve, he’d kissed you properly and thoroughly surrounded by a dozen half-unpacked brown cardboard boxes.
You thought Hangman would have forgotten about it, but it turns out the only person that had forgot was a you, because you’d nearly spit out your beer mid-sip when he’d slapped down the race bib in front of you at the Hard Deck one evening in March.
It was just as terrible as you’d imagined it would be and worse. Not even the four-leaf clover bobble headband you’d worn had cheered you up even the slightest.
The term fun run was an oxymoron and you were willing to die on that a hill.
And of course, there was also a copy of the house key dangling on a pretty pink velvet ribbon. The one he’d originally given you was a permanent fixture on your key ring.
“So what’s the verdict, sweetheart? How did I do? Is it fluffed enough?” he asks, pulling back to look down at you.
“It’s the best thing I’ve ever seen,” you say grinning up at him.
You’ve loved his homey Craftsman since the first time you’d stepped inside it with all of its warm wooden paneling around the entryways and ceiling beams. The hand tiled fireplace was mostly for aesthetics rather than functionality. You’d filled it with a display of tall pillar candles, but there’d been a couple of occasions where the two of you had stacked it with wood picked up from the grocery store and had the sounds of its crackles and pops serving as the soundtrack to your cozy night in.
You loved it even more now that your books were mixed in with his on the bookshelf. On top of his upright piano there were framed pictures of you and him and of all your friends and family. On the mantle of that fireplace were ivory knit stockings embroidered with your name and his.
This was your home now too, pink Christmas tree and all.
“The best thing, huh?” he says, amused.
“Maybe second best,” you muse, sliding your hand into the back pocket of his snug jeans, “Those Danny Zuko shorts you wore last Halloween still live rent free in my head.”
“I’ve still got those short-shorts, you just say the word and I’ll go put them on for you anytime.”
You snort a laugh and pull him down for a kiss.
The two of you have been together for almost a year and a half, but the way Bradley kisses you still sets off butterflies in your stomach and makes your heart flutter.
Soft kisses. Passionate kisses. Hello kisses. See you soon- never goodbye- kisses. Just because kisses. There you are kisses. Never stop kissing me kisses. All of them turn you upside down just like a snow globe.
He pulls away first, looking to the tree again contemplatively, “You know, the more I look at this the I feel like something is missing.”
You skim over the tree with its warm glow from the many strands of lights, the sparkling ornaments, the glinting icicles, and the delicate bejeweled snowflake tree topper. Short of tying on a few bows for the fun of it, there’s nothing more you think this tree needs.
“I might have tucked a little something in the piano bench,” Rooster says with a nod towards his well-loved upright, “Why don’t you take a look.”
You try and fail to ignore the swoop in your stomach as you walk up to the bench. You already know that you want to be his forever and the two of you are on the same page about it, but you don’t want to get your hopes up. You’re trying to be practical, realistic.
But the heart wants what the heart wants, and your heart wants him.
The seat creaks open as you lift the lid open with a not-so-steady hand, and sitting inside a small box filled with iridescent filler are the prettiest pair of ceramic ice skates you’ve ever seen. You lift the dainty ornament from the box to see that they dangle from a couple ribbons that have been tied together in a lovely bow at the top. They even have a little white fluff lining the rims of boot.
It was one of the things you missed most about home, your town had a little outdoor rink that was set up every year. You weren’t the greatest skater and it had been a few years since you’d laced up a pair of boots, but it had always been one of your favorite traditions growing up.
“Oh Bradley, they’re so lovely,” you say with a dreamy sigh, “I love it, thank you!”
You admire them for another moment taking in all their little details before hanging them up on the pink tree near his little Hawaiian shirt ornament in a place of honor on the tree.
“I have another surprise for you,” he says with a grin, looking very proud of himself.
“Oh? When did you become such a man of mystery?” you tease.
“Gotta keep my girl on her toes,” Rooster winks, sliding a finger through your belt loop to pull you closer before wrapping his arms around you. “You know how Hotel del Coronado has that ice-skating rink set up now?”
Of course you did.
The tickets went on sale a little over seven weeks ago and time slots had sold out in five minutes. You’d even signed up early to try and get a spot in the queue and it still had kicked you out with empty hands.
“Yeah,” you say slowly, drawing out the word, looking up at him skeptically.
Bradley has been on a training detachment at the time, so there was no way Mr. One Percent could have gotten them when you couldn’t. There’s just no way.
You must say that part out loud or think it loud enough for him to hear you because that gorgeous smile of his gets devastatingly self-satisfied.
“I sure did, sweetheart-”
You jump up and cut him off with a kiss, he is quick to get his hands underneath you for support while your legs wrap around him.
“Oh my god, Bradley, how?” you ask excitedly between peppering kiss across his nose and cheeks.
“Ok, I can’t take full credit. I had some help,” he admits, clearly happy with your reaction, “Nat has, and I quote, ‘fast fingers’.”
You make a little squeal in delight as you throw your arms around his neck to hug him and he laughs. It’s the best sound in the world to you.
“What do you say, want to make a day of it? I might have a few things in mind for our San Diego Christmas. We’re a couple weeks early, but I’m feeling festive.”
You get too distracted by his smiling mouth to give him your answer then and there, but you remember to officially accept later that night in bed after your heart finally stops racing.
Convincing you to move in with him might be the best thing Bradley’s ever done.
Those cool Winter nights last year had tasted like bourbon and were spent wrapped up together on the couch and under the covers.
Your first big fight had been over whose Super Bowl team was going to win. There had been a lot of trash talk that night, but eventually a peace had been brokered. And really, no one was a loser when it came to orgasms.
In the Spring, he had built you a bunch of raised garden beds in the backyard for you to grow whatever you wanted. He’d learned that he had a bit of a green thumb when it came to zucchinis, a fact that irked you to no end because you could never get them to produce anything. He didn’t know sunshine had a scent until he could smell it on your skin with your hands covered in dirt and a smile on your facec.
And he was not surprised to learn that he was also very much a fan of your sundress collection.
The golden Summer days were spent at the beach and taking road trips to nowhere in the Bronco then the long way home. Rooster burned more often than he cared to admit, but you started keeping a container of aloe in the fridge for him. He’d never say no to have your soft hands on his body, your touch more soothing than the cooling gel could ever be.
That Fall he’d finally been able to go home with you for Thanksgiving. He’d met your family earlier in the year, but you’d been so proud to show him off at the official family gathering as you’d sipped on your cranberry mimosa. And after a year of planning, the two of you had finally been able to enact your Stealthy Soufflé Scheme.
He had been determined to get his girl that closely guarded recipe no matter what.
Your Aunt Christine had been putty in his hands with all of his yes, ma’ams and no, ma’ams and charming smiles and All-American golden boy aviator thing. You’d primed him on what things she was interested in and he had fully leaned into it, sweet talk and all. It didn’t hurt that she had been a big fan of the expensive bottles Syrah the two of you had brought with you.
You and your mom had been thrilled when he’d presented you with the handwritten copy of the coveted recipe. He had been happy to do it, but he didn’t mind the way you showed him your thanks later that night in your childhood bedroom.
He was the first boyfriend you’d ever had in there, and if he has his way, he’d also be the last.
Victory- and that not-so-secret-anymore corn soufflé recipe- never tasted so good.
The two of you had had a great first Christmas together last year, excluding the slight hiccup with the whole hives thing. And he knows he’s a bit of a perfectionist, but he wants to make this one even better.
He had let you sleep in as long as he could, but he was excited for all the festive things he had arranged for today.
“C’mon, sleepy girl. We’ve got plans,” he says, skimming a few soft kisses along your shoulder.
“Do those plans involve coffee?” you mumble sleepily into your pillow.
He chuckles and brushes back a few of the hairs that are stuck against your forehead, “Of course, it’ll be the first stop after.”
You peek up at him from under your silk eye mask, he’s always liked a slightly fussy girl. You’d even got him one for his deployments to help him sleep better on the carrier.
“After what, Roos,” you ask skeptically.
“You seemed to enjoy that Leprechaun Run you did with Jake and I saw that there was an Ugly Sweater Fun Run today and I signed us up, we have to be there in an hour.”
“Bradley, you didn’t,” you say with a gasp, sitting up like you’ve been struck by lightning.
You look so alarmed, clutching the top sheet to your chest, that he can’t help but throw his head back and laugh.
“No, I didn’t. I promise,” he says, trying to pull you into his chest.
You shove lightly at his shoulder, “That was so rude of you, Bradley Peter Bradshaw.”
“Not the government name,” he smirks, leaning down to trail a couple kisses along your neck. He likes the way you always shiver when his mustache grazes that ticklish spot under your ear.
“Oh my god, I swear I just had a war flashback to that second mile when Jake tried to make me keep up with him,” you huff, leaning your head to the side to let him continue apologizing with his mouth, “You’re so lucky I’m even talking to you right now.”
“I am very lucky to have such a pretty, smart, and forgiving girlfriend. One who appreciates over the top Christmas decorations and brunch with themed cocktails.”
That piques your interest and you seem much more awake now for someone who usually needs at least two cups of coffee before becoming a fully functional human being, “Themed cocktails, you say?”
“Mhmm, they even have a Ho-Ho-Hot and Spicy Bloody Merry, spelled m-e-r-r-y,” he says with a smile, running a finger down the bridge of your nose. “But to get one, we have to get out of this bed and into the shower.”
“Sounds like it would be more efficient if we took one together, huh?” you grin, wrapping your arms around his neck, “Plus I’m all about preserving the planet’s natural resources.”
The two of you were a little late getting out of the house, having worked up an appetite, but still manage to make it in time for the reservations he had made.
The restaurant had been swathed in miles of frosted evergreen garlands with so many oversized ornaments dangling and ribbons woven throughout that he wasn’t sure how it hadn’t come crashing down off the ceiling. Not an inch of it was left undecorated, it was all stands of lights and shiny wreaths and giant cellophane covered candies.
Brunch had been complete with a couple of those Bloody Merry’s he’d heard about from Coyote, as well as an order of Santa pancakes topped with a hat of strawberries tossed with orange zest infused syrup.
The Christmas radio station was playing all of your favorites and you were singing along as he zipped along the highway to the next stop.
The Ocean Beach Christmas tree was beloved for being San Diego’s unofficial response to the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Bob had told him he’d stumbled upon it on accident one day last year when he had been exploring his new city and learned about the tree’s forty-year history and had enthusiastically recommended that Rooster added it to his festive agenda.
Bradley loved the way your face lit up at the sight of it. The top of the massive tree was leaning to the right and looked straight out of Whoville the way it decorated with all kinds of blow up pool toys. There were beach balls galore, traditional ones and ones that looked like disco balls, a few parrots, and even one shaped like an electric guitar.
“Oh my god, look!” He looks up from the text message he was replying to and follows the line of your arm to where your finger is directing his gaze, “Another bird defying the laws of physics.”
And there tucked away up in the tree next to a blow-up globe is an inflatable rooster.
On the way back into town, two of you stopped by Mission Bay to grab some more coffee and walk around the marina to check out some of the decorated boats docked for the Parade of Lights. He’d heard about it from Penny, who had even participated in the event herself a few years ago.
You’d both agreed the one that had turned the tall mast of the sailing boat into a glowing Christmas tree was the clear winner.
The next stop was something Bradley knew you’d be really excited about.
He’d found out about the Christmas centerpiece floral arrangement class from Nat who had a crush on the florist who ran the little shop.
The class was filled with mostly women, but there were a couple other men scattered around. They’d greeting him with that head nod that only men seem to exchange, like you got roped into this too, huh?, but what they didn’t know was that being there had been his idea.
Rooster was slipping his phone back into his pocket when you returned back to your little round table with an arm full of various flowers and different greens, with not a pine frond in sight. He’d even called in advance to make sure that there wouldn’t be any involved, just in case.
You were divvying up the things that you’d gathered from the long farmhouse tables in the front between the two of you when his phone pings again.
“Rooster, is everything ok? I feel like your phone is going off a ton this afternoon,” you asked, putting down the white berry looking things to look at him, a little crease there between your eyebrows.
“Yeah, of course,” he’d said, rubbing the back of his neck, “Fanboy decided to invite chaos into the group chat by asking if a hot dog was a sandwich or not. It’s getting pretty contentious.”
You give him a look but go back to dividing the pile in front of you, moving on from the berry things to some small roses.
“Also, for the record, a hot dog is definitely a category of its own. You don’t call a hamburger a sandwich,” you’d replied, not missing a beat.
“You won’t hear me arguing with that logic.”
“Good. Because facts are facts, Bradley.”
He pulled out his phone again to give it one last quick skim before turning the volume down, before noticing what flowers you’d just set in front of him, “Hey, are those dahlias?”
You hold up a stem with a large deep burgundy flower for him, giving it a spin between your fingers, “They are! It’s a little late in the season for them, so I’m surprised to see them here. Aren’t they pretty?”
“Those were my mom’s favorites,” he’d said fondly, remembering a backyard from decades ago that was lined with around the edges with the flowers.
“Were they? Well, I’m glad I grabbed them then,” you said with a soft smile, before handing him a few more to work with.
By the end of class, he knows his ears are pink because of how much you’re showering him with praise and gushing over his arrangement. He’d even gotten a few supportive thumbs ups from some of the other people in class.
“Seriously, Bradley. It’s so lovely! I mean, look at those pinecones you tucked in it. I can’t wait to put it on the dining table!”
You wanted to swing by Mav and Penny’s place to drop yours off for them, but he breathed a sigh of relief when he managed to convince you that it could wait until tomorrow.
He couldn’t wait for the next part of your day together.
Bradley jogs around the front of the Bronco to open your door for you after he parks at the Hotel del Coronado. He gives you his hand to help you down from the car, instead you reach and pull his face to yours.
The kiss is like spun sugar, airy and sweet. He could taste the lingering peppermint from your latte earlier.
“What was that for,” he murmurs against you lips.
“I just really love you,” you sigh, nudging his nose with yours, “Today has been so perfect. I feel like I’m in one of my Christmas movies, except I know you’re not going to ask me to leave my job in the big city to help you run your grandmother’s failing bakery to only get paid in gingerbread and Christmas spirit.”
“Lucky for you, my grandma could barely make toast, so you’re spared from such a fate. You wouldn’t need that little Mini Cooper of yours in a town that only has one stoplight.”
You press a quick kiss to his cheek, “Well thank goodness for small miracles.”
“We’ve still got one more thing on the list. You ready for this?” Bradley asks, holding his hand out.
You slip your hand in his with a grin, “Virtue and Moir better watch out.”
You can’t say you’ve ever expected to see an ice rink set up with a display of white sand and sparkling blue ocean behind it. But it was easily one of the most magical things you’ve ever seen.
The sunset has painted the skies a beautiful display of cool blues, soft pinks, and dusky purples. The palm trees lining the rink have been done up in strands of white lights that crisscross over it above your heads. The mixture of happy laughter, Christmas songs piped over the sound system, and waves crashing served as the soundtrack to the moment.
And you’re trying desperately not to fall and make a fool of yourself.
It was more than a little humbling stepping onto the rink after having not had a pair of ice skates on for more than a decade. It had been awhile since your family had indulged in this particular tradition, but you figured it would be like riding a bike.
It’s almost laughable now how wrong you were.
“How are you so good at this?” you jokingly accuse as you wobble on your skates, yet again. Luckily, Bradley’s sturdy grasp on your hand keeps you from falling.
He laughs, “I thought you said you did this all the time growing up?”
“I did! I just never said I was good at it.” A kid whizzes past you- a little too close, a little too fast- and Bradley shoots a disgruntled look at his swiftly retreating figure. “You come from a snow state, it’s in your blood. You automatically have the advantage.”
“Are you thinking of the other V-state? Vermont?” he teases, easily gliding around you swapping spots so that you’re closer to the edge of the rink rather than the middle.
“It snows in Virginia, I googled it.”
“I mean, yeah, but not a ton,” he says, “But it wasn’t like I was hitting up the indoor rinks either.”
“So you’re telling me you’re just a natural?” You roll your eyes affectionately at him.
He winks at you, “You said it not me, sweetheart.”
You’d nearly melted on the sight when Rooster had knelt down in front of you and looked up at you with such a boyishly charming smile as he’d tied the laces of your rented ice skates.
It took a moment to get your hummingbird heart back under control after that.
After a few more laps around, you’re starting to feel like you’re falling into the rhythm of it. You’re still keeping an eye out for people and the older kid who had earned himself more than one glare from people trying to enjoy their time on the rink as he erratically bobbed and wove his way through them. But your strides are getting longer and the shifting motion from side to side is getting smoother. You could almost claim to be gliding.
You’d forgotten how much fun it was, but then again, Bradley always made everything better and brighter.
Your cheeks ache in the best way from how much smiling you’ve been doing today.
And if you faked a couple wobbles so that he’d put his arm around you, it was worth the sacrifice of trying to look graceful. He’s already seen you at your best and at your worst, so you didn’t think your lack of skill standing on a quarter of an inch of metal was going to scare him away.
Rooster is a few feet ahead of you showing off some of his fancy footwork and maybe if you hadn’t been so distracted by his smile you would have heard the aggressive woosh of the kid’s skates as he sped up behind you.
It had only been a matter of time.
He collides with you but keeps his balance and propels himself forward, not slowing his pace in the slightest before taking off again. Your feet slip out for beneath you and before you know it you’re extending your right arm down to try and break your fall.
You meet the ice hard.
You feel pop.
A rush of warmth.
And then throbbing.
The next five hours pass in a twinkling blur of heavy guilt and aching pain.
Bradley had gone through so much effort planning such a perfect day for you and you feel terrible about how it ended.
The wait at the hospital had been miserable. The lights were too glaring and the noises too loud. The garish green and red garland draped on the desk seemed to mock you as you’d gone through the motions of getting checked in.
Your wrist had been killing you and you hated being the reason that Rooster’s leg hand been bouncing anxiously next to you in the uncomfortable plastic chairs. He’d tried to hide it, but you’d seen that deep furrow between his brows. You’d almost cried when he started stroking the back your pain-free hand with this thumb. It wasn’t until they’d brought you back for X-rays and had given you a light dose of painkillers that the world had shifted back into the dreamy soft focus it had been like earlier in the day with Bradley when he’d taken you on all those perfect dates.
You didn’t know if he had planned anything else, all you knew is that everything had unraveled so quickly.
It’s an odd feeling like you could float away at any moment. The painkillers made you feel buoyant and light, yet you can feel the weight on your shoulders just the way you feel the weight of the cast on your wrist.
Even now as the candy-colored lights that he’d put up along the front of the house bounce off of his still perfect curls, he’s wearing the softest of smiles for you as he works to open the front door. His dreamy brown eyes are reflecting nothing back at you other than warmth and affection and care.
Your wonderful, loving, perfect boyfriend. Your perfect Bradley.
You know it’s not entirely the drugs fault the way you’re struck by just how pretty he is. You’ve always thought so, but here and now you’re simply mesmerized by him under the glow of the Christmas lights.
“I don’t think I’ve been called pretty before, sweetheart. But thank you,” Bradley says with a little amused chuckle.
“Well you are. And your hair. Bradley, it’s not fair.” The words are tumbling out of your loose lips.
“My hair isn’t fair?” he asks with a tilt of his head, holding open the front door for you.
“No, it’s not! You just wash it and it dries like that?” He takes your purse from you and sets it on the entry table before helping to ease off the heavier sweater jacket you were wearing from your shoulders. “I don’t think you get it. You’re pretty, but you’re so handsome too.”
He squats down in front of you and smiles up at you before helping to slip off your shoes, “I’ll take handsome too if it’s on the table, sounds like a nice combo.”
“Please, you sound like Jake now,” you giggle.
“Oh no, we can’t have that now can we,” he grins, “But at least I’m pretty and handsome, hopefully that’ll cushion the blow.”
And you just love him.
You love him for the way he loves you and takes care of you and tries to make you laugh when he knows you’re feeling down. You reach up to pull his face to yours when you are distracted by the thick cast on your arm.
“This wasn’t the accessory I was hoping for for Christmas,” you say with a sigh.
The panic that electrifies your body is immediate as your spine goes ramrod straight. Oh no oh no oh no oh no. You can almost see the words swirl and twirl around him, and you know there’s no way you can snatch them back from the way they hang in the air.
“Ohmygod. Oh my god, I didn’t mean to say that.” You’re so flustered now, so embarrassed. “Please pretend you didn’t hear that.”
But Bradley is looking at you with his eyes crinkled around the corners and his lips pressed together like he is trying to hold back a laugh with the way his cheeks are pulling up.
“Oh, did you want a pair of earrings?” he teases, cupping your face in his hand.
“Bradley,” you whine.
“C’mere, baby,” he laughs and pulls you into his chest. You wrap your arms around him and wonder briefly if he can feel the hard plaster of your cast pressed against his back. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, “You know you never did tell me what you wanted for Christmas.”
“Don’t need anything,” you murmur into the warmth of him.
He’s already all you’ve ever wanted.
As you make your way up the stairs, glow from your pretty pink tree seems brighter than usual. Normally, you’d take one last peek back at it before going to bed, but you’re still a bit wobbly on your feet. It’ll still be there waiting for you in the morning.
“Oh shit,” you hear him mutter from behind you.
“What’s wrong, Roos?”
“Ah- just stubbed my toe. C’mon, let’s get you upstairs.” The heavy tread of his footsteps is close behind you, you can almost feel the warmth of him at your back.
At you back. By your side. He’s the only person you’ll ever need.
They’d given you some of the strong stuff and he could tell that you were still floating in that sweet spot before all the gravity settles back into your bones.
The distal radius fracture in your right wrist meant that you’d be in the cast for the next six weeks. You’d gone with a white and pink stripped candy cane inspired look to match the tree, Bradley. While he wishes it wasn’t there in the first place, he thought the pattern you’d chosen was cute.
He’d quickly and quietly kicked off his shoes before he’d followed you into the bedroom. Hoping that you wouldn’t notice them, he’d take a disinfecting wipe to the floor and stairs tomorrow.
For as well as Rooster knew you, he felt a little out of his element because he knew you were hurting but he wasn’t sure what would make you feel better in that moment. When he offered to draw you a bath he’d instantly known it was the right choice by the look on your face.
So he’d made you one with all of your favorite products. The mound of bubbles he was able to achieve was truly impressive, if he did say so himself. He even dimmed the lights and lit a few candles for you.
Bradley had carefully wrapped up your cast in plastic wrap and secured the top with a rubber band. And the dejected pout on your face when you looked at it and called it an “unattractive arm condom” had nearly sent him over edge.
He’s already looking on his phone for other options, sitting on the bathroom floor next to you as you soak in the tub, when he feels your fingers thread through his hair and he leans into your touch.
“I really am jealous of your hair, you know. I’m sure there were a few of the girls at that floral class who were too.”
Your head is leaning back against the lip of the tub as you gaze at him, your hair wet from him washing it for you. He’d noticed the moment you realized how difficult it would be for you to do it yourself for the foreseeable future. But you brought out the optimistic side of him and he’d already come up with a solution, “I guess we’ll have to take more showers together then, so I can wash your hair for you. Plus, it’ll be good for the environment”. You’d laughed, and he was happy to see some of the light returning back into your eyes.
“I don’t know why when yours is so pretty,” he says, reaching out and lightly tugging on a lock of your hair.
“Did I tell you one of them asked me if you had a brother? She was honestly so put out when I said that you didn’t that I’m pretty sure she took the last of the dahlias out of spite when she saw me reaching for them. They didn’t even match her arrangement,” you say rolling your eyes, adjusting the way your plastic wrapped candy cane cast rested against the other side of the tub. “Like sorry not sorry, I’m not going to give you my boyfriend.”
“Was it the woman in the striped sweater?”
“Yes! It was her!”
Bradley had notice her checking him out a little too closely for a man who was clearly there another woman and happily taken.
“She had crazy eyes, I wouldn’t have wanted you to give me to her anyways.”
You snicker at that, “She did have crazy eyes.”
He makes a mental note to remember to grab the arrangements from out of the back of the Bronco before he goes to bed. He didn’t want anything to happen to them, but that could until after you were tucked in bed and asleep.
“But the instructor was so sweet, Roos. I told her that the dahlias were your mom’s favorites and then she went to the back and got me a bunch. She didn’t put them on the table or anything for anyone else, just handed them over to me for us to use. It was a real girls supporting girls moment, we bonded.”
He’s struck by the fact that you’d already known about his mom’s favorite flower. That you had let him think it was happenstance when really you had grabbed them because you’d known it would mean something to him. That you wanted to make it special for him when he was trying to make it a special day for you.
He didn’t think it was possible to love you any more than he already did, but you were so good at making him fall in love with you over and over again.
“That was really nice of her, sweetheart,” he says, his throat a little thick.
“It really was. And better yet she’s single and likes women,” you say with a grin, “I got her number to get coffee, but I might see if I can play matchmaker between her and Nat. She looks like Nat’s type.”
“This was our instructor? You got all of that out of her in a few minutes of conversation?” he asks, impressed.
You give him a cheeky shrug of your shoulder, “Yeah, I’m efficient. She owns the shop too. I think I’m going to order something for Penny and Mav from her closer to Christmas.”
“You know what, I think you’re right, she does seem very much like Nat’s type,” Bradley smiles to himself, Phoenix is going to be very excited when he tells her about this.
“’m always right,” you hum.
“You sure are, sweetheart,” he says fondly.
He watches as your eyelids start to get heavy and helps you to get out of the tub, wrapping you up in the biggest, fluffiest towel he can find and sits you on the bed as he goes into the closet to find something cozy for you to wear.
“What do you want me to grab you, baby?”
“Your shirt,” you call out sleepily.
He peeks his head around the opening, “Sweetheart, you’re not going to want hospital germs in bed.”
“No, not that one,” you say, scrunching your nose, “Your henley. The soft navy one with the little white flecks. ‘s my favorite.”
You look so tired, he doesn’t like the slump of your shoulders. He knows that feeling all too well and he hates that you feel so bad about something that you had no control over. It had been such a good day up until the end. But even so, you’re the only person he wants to go through the highs and lows with.
He strips down and puts both his clothes and yours into the hamper before grabbing the shirt for you. “Arms up,” he says gently, he pulls the sleeve wide to fit over your cast before threading it down your arms and over your head.
Rooster pulls back the covers for you to crawl into bed. He climbs in after you, cradling you against him as he reaches over for the remote to turn on your favorite Christmas movie channel for you to fall asleep too.
Your cast rests heavy on his chest.
The heroine just won the cookie cook-off and he thinks you’ve fallen asleep, but then you murmur quietly into the dark room, “This is the second year in a row, Bradley, I really think we should consider skipping Christmas next year. For both of our sake’s.”
“We’ve got too much Christmas spirit for a little pine tree allergy or fractured wrist to keep us down,” he tips your head up so that you’re looking at him, “Give it time, it’ll turn around. I promise, sweetheart.”
He seals that vow with a sweet kiss against your lips and a few minutes later he feels as your breaths even out and you fall asleep tucked against him.
You wake up the next morning feeling more than a little groggy and cotton-headed as everything from yesterday comes rushing back to you.
As does the aching in your right wrist.
You reach out for Rooster, but his side of the bed is already cold. He’s always been an early riser and once he’s awake he doesn’t know how to sit still. You wouldn’t have minded cuddling with him for a little bit, but knowing him he has probably already brewed a pot of coffee for you.
When you finally crack open your eyes, you see that he’s left out a bottle of the prescription strength ibuprofen the doctor had sent home with you on your nightstand and a note written in his slanted script reminding you to take one. Your sweetest boy.
You attempt to splash some cold water on your face with one hand, willing it to depuff your face a little bit and then try to fix up your hair so that you look and feel less bedraggled. It is one thing if Bradley is the one responsible for it, but that wasn’t the case this morning.
Before heading downstairs, you decide on a whim to change out of his shirt and into the cozy cream-colored fuzzy lounge set you’d bought on sale the other week. It takes three times longer to get dressed than it usually did, but getting yourself at least a little more put together made you feel a bit more in control. You knew the extra effort wasn’t necessary, but you felt cute and it was making you feel a little bit better about everything.
The pink and white cast was a bit of a choice looking at it in the morning light filtering through the airy curtains, but you thought you pulled it off well. It was cheerful and fun. And you weren’t going to let it affect you or your Christmas plans with your perfect boyfriend.
There is still some residual guilt you’re trying to shake off, you know it was a fluke of fate, but you’re already thinking about ways to make it up to him all the same.
You gingerly make your way down the stairs making a mental note to look up what other festive things were happening this weekend and call out to Rooster, “Please tell me there’s coffee.”
The raspy laugh that reaches your ears makes you smile for the first time that morning, “I’ve got one ready for you in the living room, sweetheart. It’s ready when you are.”
The painkillers, the coffee. The man is a saint and looks like a god. And he’s all yours.
You take those final few steps a bit faster, ready for the strong dark roast that only he seems to be able to make to just right and to thank him for taking such good care of you.
You lose all words when you walk into the living room.
It’s like you’ve walked into a dreamy pink forest straight out of a fairytale.
Your beloved very large, very fluffy, pink tree covered with all of your memories collected from the past year and Bradley’s mom’s sparkling vintage glass icicles is surrounded by two other very large, very fluffy, pink Christmas trees.
The newest additions to the living room glow with the hundreds of twinkling white lights. It’s ethereal and whimsical the way the light bounces and dapples on the walls and floors.
And there standing in front of them is Bradley, barefoot in his favorite sweatpants in your cozy living room of the home he’s made with you looking like a daydream.
You don’t think it’s the prescription strength pain medication kicking in that makes you feel like you’re floating as you walk towards him. You know it’s all him.
Bradley says your name with such adoration, such love that you swear you feel your heart reshape in your chest with his name on it.
“I envisioned this a bit differently in my mind, but the way I see it, we’re just starting the ‘in sickness and in health’ part a bit early,” he says, taking your right hand and dropping a kiss to your cast. Your eyes well up at the tender gesture.
And then you stop breathing when he sinks down onto one knee in front of you.
“I love you so much, sweetheart. I love your big heart and the way you’re so kind and generous to everyone you meet. I love the way you can light up a room with your smile. The best parts of my days are when I am with you. You’re the only person I want to wake up to, the only person I want to fall asleep with in my arms, and the only person who I want a forever with.” He reaches out and takes your shaky hand in his warm one, “Last year, you let me give you more than a drawer and it has been the best thing that has ever happened to me. You are the best damn thing that has ever happened to me. This year, will you let me give you my last name too and marry me?”
You can almost see his heart that he is wearing on his sleeve. His pretty honey brown eyes are tracing over every inch of your face, almost like he is trying to commit every microcosm of your expression to memory.
You had imagined this moment so many times. It was the movie you’d put on in your mind on those nights when sleep felt just out for reach. And like a snowflake, no two dreams had been the same.
But nothing you’d imagined could have ever topped the reality of this moment here and now.
Because there was nothing was better than being surrounded by three pink fluffy trees and looking forward to getting to spend a lifetime with Bradley Bradshaw.
“Well it’s convenient I fractured the right one,” you say with a watery laugh as a few happy tears escape from your eyes.
“I guess that is a lucky break,” he grins.
“Literally.”
You didn’t think it was possible to smile this wide. That you could be this happy.
“You still haven’t given me an answer yet, sweetheart,” he says, slightly squeezing your good hand.
“Haven’t I though?” you tease. There’s no what he doesn’t know what your answer is, not with the way you’re beaming.
“C’mon, let me hear you say it.”
You don’t make him wait for long.
“Yes, Bradley, yes I will marry you. It’ll always be a yes with you.”
You barely get to finish your sentence before he is shooting to his feet, pulling you into his arms and kissing you.
Your Bradley. Your fiancé.
On Christmas morning, after all the presents are unwrapped, you find yourself sitting under your perfectly pink tree surrounded by scraps of ribbons and bits of shiny wrapping paper.
Even your striped pink and white cast looked particularly festive under the gleam of the trees.
Rooster is in the kitchen making another pot of coffee for the two of you to share. You can hear him singing along to one of the vintage crooner Christmas albums you had gotten him.
You’ll be hosting Mav, Penny, and Amelia for dinner tonight. You let yourself enjoy this quiet of the mid-morning before things get chaotic. The two of you had dressed the oval oak dining table yesterday afternoon. The centerpiece you’d ordered from Nat’s now New Year’s Eve date was stunning, there were even a few white dahlias tucked into the arrangement. Thankfully, with no pine needles in sight.
The tall pillar candles had been moved off to the side and a real fire was popping in the hearth of the tiled fireplace. And the sun streaming through the bay windows is bouncing off that sparkly silver garland that you’d gotten Bradley to hang up for you in a way that makes the shiny wooden floors look like they’ve been scattered with specks of confetti.
The swirling, sparkling, shimmering dots on the ceiling, however, were from your own ring as you move and tilt your hand admiring the way the sun illuminates it. You know the matching pair of diamond earrings that Bradley had gotten for you as you Christmas gift are shining just as bright.
He still blushes whenever anyone teases him about forgetting to pull out the engagement ring he had got for you before he’d proposed. But you wouldn’t have changed anything about that moment for the world.
The marquise diamond had belonged to his mom, but he had had it reset in gold with a halo of diamonds around it for you. He’d even bought a pink velvet box to put it in for the occasion. It was easily the prettiest thing you’d ever seen and your heart still fluttered every time you saw it on your finger.
The two new trees are still only dressed with the many strands of lights that they’d arrived with. You learned that Bradley had enlisted Jake and Natasha to help him out with that particular surprise that day a couple weeks ago when he’d taken you on what you affectionately refer to as the 12 Dates of a Christmas Proposal.
Your favorite pink tree, the one he had gotten for you last year- the one you’re sitting under now- was also in possession of a new accessory. A shiny new pink ring pop ornament Bradley had gotten to commemorate the occasion of you saying yes and was hanging in a place of honor on the tree right between the little Hawaiian shirt ornament and the dainty, dangling ice skates.
Saying yes was the easiest thing you’ve ever done.
Yes to forever. Yes to him.
This season and every season.
You couldn’t wait to see what new ornaments would fill those trees by next year.
And the one after that.
And the one after that.
And the next one after that.
Happy Holiday's! It's been almost a year since I've posted my very first story on here. I'm so thankful that a zoom kaboom plane movie has introduced me to so many wonderful people! Thank you for reading my stories and for all the support I've received over this last year! It has meant the world to me!
This story is set in the Oh, Christmas Tree universe. If you missed the fic that started it all, you can read it here!
Many thanks to Jordan (@gretagerwigsmuse) for so, so many reasons. I hope you enjoy this, this one's for you!
You can read my other stories here!
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3 Is Better Than 2 - Pouts & Promises | Hangster x Reader
Warnings: Rooster x Reader, Hangman x Reader, swearing, mentions of smut, Jake and Bradley both being whipped for you, established relationship, poly relationship.
WC: 2k
All Content is mine, do not post to other sites.
The house was concerningly quiet when Bradley entered it at three PM on a Saturday, a bouquet of pink camellia’s in his hand that he couldn’t resist buying on the way out of the grocery store. “Hey, Hangman,” he called out as he set the keys to his Bronco down onto the kitchen counter.
He was met with more silence, and he wasn’t used to the place being so void of life. Is this what it felt like for you when the guys went on deployments? If so, he was never leaving you again.
“Jake?” He tried again, then glanced inside the garage and saw that the blond’s truck wasn’t in there.
Great, now he had to bring the groceries in by himself.
With a huff, Bradley made his way down the hall and peeked his head into your office, finding you sitting at your desk with your back to him. “Hey, princess,” he greeted as he entered the nicely decorated room. “I got you these.”
He held the flowers out in front of you since you had yet to turn and face him. “Thanks, Bradley,” you take them from him with a small smile.
“Where’d that guy go, huh?” He asked as he looked over at the photo of the three of you at the Hard Deck you had on your bookshelf. “I got some stuff to bring in.”
You turned in your chair and set the flowers aside, giving Bradley the first real look at your face since returning home. “I can help you,” you offer and stand up, moving to walk past him but he reaches out and halts you.
Bradley’s eyes narrow at the redness in your own, and he straightens up a bit as he gently grabs your waist with both hands. “What’s the matter, huh?” He softly asked when he saw the way your bottom lip quivered. “What’d he do this time, pretty girl?”
You shrugged, stepping forward and casting your gaze down at his chest. “Nothing, really,” you try to brush off his questions, but you knew by now that neither he or Jake take kindly to people upsetting you.
So on the rare occasion that it was one of them, the other didn’t let up. “Tell me, baby,” he coaxed, bringing his hand up and pulling at your lip with his thumb. “I hate seeing you look sad.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” you say quietly.
“Don’t be sorry,” he murmured and kissed your forehead. “Just tell me what the fucker did so I have an excuse to kick his ass.”
That had you laughing a bit, like he knew it would, and when you pulled away to look up at him, you both wore small grins. “He just said something that hurt my feelings, is all,” you tell him, and Bradley knew you were still holding back because you hated pinning the two guys against each other.
“What did he say?” He asked and you gave him a wary look. “I won’t get mad at him too much, princess, promise. Tell me what he said.”
Bradley was definitely the softer one out of him and Jake, but he was also the one who is more protective over you. He wasn’t afraid to smack some sense into his fellow aviator, and he had on more than one occasion.
Jake was newer to relationships as he slept around before settling down with you, and with Bradley by default, though the men had a small distaste for one another.
They put up with each other only for you, and you were well aware of the power you held over them.
“It’s fine, Bradley,” you try to wave him off again, but he gives you a look that has you sighing in defeat. “He just said…that I’m ungrateful and that I should be more respectful when I talk to him. Maybe I was acting like a bit of a brat earlier…I didn’t mean to, I swear. I’m sorry.”
You spoke quickly as if you were scared that Bradley would lash out on you in the way Jake had apparently done earlier.
He shook his head and wrapped his arms around your middle, pulling you up against his chest with a soft grunt. “I’m not mad, baby,” he assured you, kissing the top of your head when you relaxed in his hold. “Not at you.”
“Don’t be mad at Jake, please,” you begged softly, bunching up the fabric of his black tee in your hands. “He hurt my feelings, but I don’t want him to be ganged up on. Please, Bradley?”
He looked down at your pretty face and held back a moan at how fucking cute and sweet you are. Jake had upset you earlier, but you still didn’t want him to receive the earful Bradley was already planning on giving him.
He wanted to throw you over his shoulder and take you to bed right now, because how could you possibly be this perfect? “Okay, princess,” he agreed, brushing your hair out of your face and pressing a deep kiss to your lips. “I won’t be too mean to him, okay? But I am going to talk to him.”
You sigh but nod, knowing that he wouldn’t let Jake think he could hurt your feelings and not face the consequences. “Okay,” you place your hands flat against his chest and gaze up at him with wide eyes. “You said you have stuff to bring in?”
Bradley nodded and pulled you back to his chest when you tried to walk past him. “But you’re not going to help me with it,” he stated, and you pouted at him. He pulled on your lip again before leaning down to kiss you. Hard. “You’re going to go into the bedroom, okay? I’m gonna show you the respect you deserve.”
You bite down gently on your lip as you press your thighs together. “Are you sure?”
Bradley nodded and kissed you one last time before guiding you out of your office and pushing you towards your room. “Wait for me, okay? I want to take those clothes off you myself,”
You whimper and nod, turning around and quickly making your way to the bedroom.
Bradley watched you until he couldn’t anymore, and then he turned and went back outside. Once he brought the last bag in, he pulled off his top and dropped it onto the kitchen floor, leaving it for Jake to discover later as he headed towards the room, planning to get you off in all the ways he’s done before, but this time by himself.
He made you cum on his fingers, tongue and cock over and over again until you were crying for him to fill you up, and when he did, you kept him close for a long time after.
He whispered soft praises to you as you came down, a light layer of sweat covering the both of you as you held each other until you fell asleep.
It was still early in the evening, but Bradley decided to let you have a quick rest after the bad morning you had with Jake.
He pulled his jeans back on and made his way into the kitchen, pausing by the living room when he saw Jake sitting on the couch, Bradley’s shirt in his hand and an unreadable look on his face. “Hey,” the brunet greeted in a stiff voice. “Dick.”
Jake huffed as Bradley began walking again, and he followed him into the kitchen. “I know, I’m an asshole,” he muttered as he threw the shirt onto the barstool.
“Yeah, you are,” Bradley agreed as he started to put away the groceries.
Jake sighed and sat at the breakfast bar, green eyes full of guilt as he asked, “Is she mad?”
“No, she’s not mad,” Bradley answered with a humorless laugh. “But you hurt her feelings. Why are you such a prick to her sometimes? Do you realize how fucking lucky we are? Because I do.”
“I know, I don’t deserve her,” Jake said under his breath as Bradley shoved the bags into a bigger one and tossed it onto the top shelf in the pantry cupboard. “You’re so good to her, it’s hard to compete sometimes.”
“No one’s competing, Jake,” Bradley scoffed, grabbing his shirt and walking towards the laundry room. “If you haven’t noticed, she’s ours. All ours. She isn’t expecting us to one up each other all the time.”
Jake huffed again and leaned back. “Where is she?”
It was silent for a few seconds before Bradley came back into the kitchen, this time wearing a white muscle tee and a Hawaiian printed shirt. “In bed. Where I left her after ensuring her that she’s not ungrateful or a brat,”
“She thinks she’s a brat?”
“Yeah, she even apologized for it and didn’t want me to go off on you like you deserve,”
“Fuck,” Jake groaned as he stood up. “I’m such a dick.”
Bradley nodded with a tight smile. “Yep,” then pointed in the direction of your room. “Go say sorry, then get ready. We’re going to the Hard Deck.”
Jake nodded, pushing past him and going down the hall where Bradley assumed you were still sleeping. He went back into your office as he heard Jake open the bedroom door, and he took the flowers and put them in a vase with water as he waited for you and Jake to kiss and makeup.
-
“Y/n?” Jake asked as he poked his head into the room. You were propped up against the pillows with a frown on your lips, and Jake felt his heart break a bit at the sight. “I’m sorry, sweet girl.”
You huff and look away as Jake enters the room and sits down beside you on the messy bed. “For what?”
“Everything,” he answered and took your hand in his, surprised that you actually let him. He had to give it to him, Bradley was damn good at putting you in a better mood. “I didn’t mean what I said, honey. I was out of line, I’m sorry.”
You don’t meet his eyes as you shrug, and you looked so cute in the shirt he recognized as his own. “It’s fine,”
“It’s not fine,” he rasped, kissing the back of your hand repeatedly. “You deserve better than me, sweetheart. I’m so sorry for what I said to you. You’re not ungrateful, and you’re so good to me. I love you, you know that?”
You look over at him with a small smile. “I know,” you say quietly, lacing your fingers with his. “I love you, too, I just…I don’t know. Maybe I was acting like a bitch earlier, I’m sorry-”
Jake shook his head and moved to wrap his arms around you. “You’re not a bitch, sweetheart,” he promised and kissed your temple. “You’re so sweet, far too sweet for me, but I’m so glad I’m yours, honey. I wouldn’t have it any other way; you, me…and I guess Rooster.”
You laughed and leaned up to kiss his jaw. “Roo helped me feel better,” you pointed out and Jake sighed.
“I know, and he shouldn’t have to do that. I shouldn’t be acting like a prick to you in the first place,” he pressed a kiss to the side of your neck before standing up. “Bradley’s an alright guy, I guess. He wants to go out tonight, so you and I need to get ready.”
You grin at him and crawl over to the edge of the bed. “Shower with me?” You sweetly ask as you hold your arms out to him.
Jake smiled down at you as he effortlessly picked you up. “How could I say no to that?” He smirked as you wrapped your legs around his waist. “I’ll do better, sweet girl. I promise.”
He knew Bradley probably wore you out while he was cheering you up, so he wasn’t planning on having a quickie with you in the shower. Instead, he massaged your hair and body as he washed you, telling you how much he adores and loves you as he did so. That alone gave him pleasure.
And if you ended up in between both guys once you returned home, then that was just a bonus.
#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster top gun#rooster x reader#rooster x you#bradley bradshaw#rooster bradshaw#hangman seresin#tgm#bradley bradsaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw x female reader#top gun maverick#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin x you#jake seresin fic#jake seresin imagine#jake seresin smut#hangman x reader#top gun hangman#hangman top gun#hangster
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“A Bullseye to the Heart” (Ch. 3)
Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Latin Reader
Blurb: Jake is determined to find out what happened to you but as soon as he pulls your file up, everything is redacted. He turns to Rooster and Bob of all people to find out more. You get back to your apartment and find that your ex has trashed the place. one thing leads to another and you find yourself agreeing to live with Hangman until it's safe to go back home.
Contents: nothing too bad, some swearing, kinda fluff,
Word count: 2,096
Previously: Chapter 1, Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Jake is in the middle of taking a sip of his beer and laughing with Rooster and the rest of the guys when he feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist. He knew it had to be one of the four women he occasionally hit up at this time for late-night sex. Now, which one was this? He twists around to see your pretty smile looking up at him.
“Y/N?” He asks over the loud music and chatter of Hard Deck.
“What? Is this such a surprise?” You ask sweetly. Before he can answer, your arms are wrapped around him and you’re kissing him passionately.
Bolting upright in bed, Jake looks at the clock on his nightstand.
8:15 AM.
“What the fuck?” He mutters to himself. What a way to wake up. When he lays back down, he feels someone place their arm on his chest. He turns to his left to see a busty blonde fast asleep beside him.
I don’t even remember bringing her home. What was her name?
He sighs before getting out of bed and walking into his bathroom. He looks in the mirror to see red lipstick marks all over his neck and chest leading down to his dick.
Must’ve been a wild Friday night.
He sighs and turns on the shower to wash everything off. A good thirty minutes into scrubbing his body, he steps out of the shower and wraps a towel around his waist.
“Jake?” He hears what’s-her-name call.
“Hey,” he says, opening the door to his bathroom a bit. “Go back to sleep, I’m just going for a run.”
“After you showered?” She asks.
“Had to wash off the lipstick,” Jake shrugs. “Anyway, stay… or don’t. Your choice.”
“I think I’ll leave,” she says, getting out of bed and walking toward the pile of clothes in the corner.
“Okay, see you around…” Jake trails off.
“Bethany.”
“Right, Bethany.”
Jake doesn’t wait for her to say more. He walks to his closet and grabs some shorts and a t-shirt, pulling them on, and then saluting her playfully when he walks out of the room.
When she leaves, Jake grabs his phone and searches for Phoenix’s text message.
Jake: How’s Y/N?
Phoenix: She’s fine.
Jake: That’s all I get?
Phoenix: Why do you want to know?
That’s a good question, why did he want to know? It’s not like he’s your boyfriend or anything. He had no right to ask how you’re doing. But, he did help you in some way.
Jake: Just asking. Being chivalrous, I guess.
Phoenix: Hmm.
Jake closes out the messages app and sighs to himself. Still thinking about you, he decides to go to the Top Gun archives and do some research. Rooster told him something happened to you while you were missing, but he only half believed him. No reason to fully trust a dude with the call sign “Rooster”.
Even if he was his friend.
Walking into the archives, Jake goes straight to the section from between two to three years back, searching for your call sign. An hour into looking into the file boxes, he finally finds the document he needs. He pulls out the file and opens it, giddiness flaring through his body when he sees your non-smiling picture of your profile.
Scanning it, Jake reads:
Name: Y/L/N, Y/N
Call sign: Bullseye
Mission Location: [REDACTED]
Mission Purpose: Bullseye is to [REDACTED] at [REDACTED].
Now what the actual fuck?
Reading down the page, everything is blacked out, except your name and call sign. When he reaches the “outcome” portion of the file, it’s all blacked out. What surprises him is the fact that it’s five pages long and again, all blacked out except your name and call sign. When he reaches “Status”, it says “Honorably Discharged/Full Sponsorship”.
Pulling his phone out, Jake calls Bradley and nearly snorts when Bradley answers, “Yello?”
“Hey I have a question,” he starts.
“Okay?”
“It’s about Y/N.”
“Oh.”
Taking a deep breath, Jake asks, “What happened after she was found?”
“Um,” Rooster hesitates. “She was found bloodied and bruised and then they brought her to the hospital on post.”
“How long before she was declared 100% for discharge? From the Navy I mean,” Jake asks, putting your file on the table before him and pulling out an empty sheet of paper to take notes.
“I think about two months?” Bradley tells him. “It was really weird because, at lest from what she’s told me, they still pay her.”
“Yeah, the VA pays her.”
“No, I mean, the Navy still pays her. Like she’s still in.”
Jake stops writing and blinks. “What do you mean?”
“She told me a few months ago that they were still paying her damages or something like that. I guess it has to do with whatever happened while she was missing,” Bradley tells him. “We really shouldn’t be talking about this on the phone. Go to Hard Deck tonight, we’ll talk more then.”
“Thanks, Bradley.”
“Did you just thank me?” Bradley snorts.
“Fuck off.” Jake chuckles.
When they hang up, Jake is left to wonder: Why are you still getting paid by the Navy? Did it have to do with whatver it was that happened while you were missing? And if so, what the actual fuck happened to make the Navy pay you off?
Later that night, Jake is sitting in a booth in the back of Hard Deck sipping on a beer and waiting for Rooster to show up. Jake is in the middle of reading something on his phone when Rooster finally sits across from him, Bob in tow.
“Sorry, Bob here found out where I was going and… I think you might want to hear what he knows,” Rooster says.
Jake looks at Bob, expanctantly.
“So you already know that Y/N’s been getting paid by the Navy,” Bob starts. When Jake nods, he adds, “Well, this is a ‘pay-off’ situation. I’m talking, they want to keep her silent about what happened.”
“Why?” Jake asks.
Bob glances at Rooster, who nods in encouragement. “They knew her jet was gonna go down.”
* * *
You knew Nick was an asshole, but you didn’t think he’d stupid enough to trash your apartment. Especially with the multiple cameras you had installed after the first time he hit you.
You had just gotten to your apartment with Phoenix and as soon as you opened the door, you knew it was going to be a long evening. Furniture was toppled over in your living room, couch cushions were ripped open (probably with a knife), and dishes were broken all over your floor.
“Oh my god,” Phoenix says from behind you. “What a fucking child.”
You only looked around in sadness. It took you months to find all of the things in your house because most of the things were vintage or second hand. You suck in a breath and rush to your room and into your closet to find the book of things from your parents. You didn’t even need to look deep enough because there it was, laying on the carpeted closet floor.
Everything was ruined.
Your parents had passed away six years ago and left you with a box of pictures from your youth as well as other family heirlooms. One of which was your mother’s engagement ring.
Quicklky falling to your knees, you begin to comb through the contents of the box, all soaked from the water Nick split inside it.
“Please be in here. Please,” you whisper to yourself.
“Y/N?” Phoenix questions.
The ring was gone.
Anger rings in your ears, slivering down your spine and making you shake. How could he do this? What a fucking dickhead.
“He fucking stole my Mom’s ring,” you angrily tell Phoneix when she enters your room.
“Y/N, I’m so sorry.”
“Tomorrow I have to go to the pawn shops and look for it. Maybe he was stupid enough to do that,” you say to yourself. Then to her, “I cannot believe he would do that. What kind of a person steals someone’s dead Mom’s ring?”
“Someone who’s so insecure that they have to hurt vulnerable people,” she tells you. “Let’s call Bradshaw, he’ll help us clear some of this stuff out.”
When Rooster arrives, he has Bob and Jake with him. As they walk into your apartment, anger flickers on their faces. You see Jake mutter something tp the effect of “I’ll fucking kill him” and shake his head. You have to fight not to let your heart melt a bit. Why does that make your heart warm?
“Y/n, you should stay somewhere else for a bit,” Bob tells you. “What if he tries to come back tonight?
“You can stay with me,” Jake says making everyone turn to him.
“Why the fuck would she stay with you?” Phoenix asks, crossing her arms.
“Because I can protect her. And he won’t know where she is, assuming he didn’t follow you home last night,” he says.
“I can protect her too, you know.”
“Phoenix, I know you’re strong, but that guy was a whole head taller than you. Besides, it’ll allow me to get to know Y/N.” He winks in your direction and you instinctively want to smile but force it down.
“This is ridiculous,” Phoenix says. “She should be with someone she’s comfortable with and who she knows. She doesn’t know you at all.”
“Again, it’ll allow me to get to know her.”
“You’re quiet,” Bob says, nudging you a bit.
“Maybe I should go with Bagman here,” You start. When they give you looks of surprise, you add, “Nick followed us home last night. I saw his car in the bushes behind your house last night after you went to bed.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Nat asks you.
“I didn’t want you to worry. I was gonna tell you tonight if he was there again.” You turn to Jake who’s watching you like a hawk. “I’ll go with you, under one condition.”
“What’s that?” he asks.
“I am not sleeping in the same bed as you.”
Jake smiles before winking at you and replying, “I have a spare bedroom you can stay in.”
“So it’s settled, Y/N stays with Seresin until we get her apartment safe and cleaned,” Rooster announces.
“I guess,” Nat says, arms crossing over her chest.
“Go pack a bag and we’ll start cleaning some of this up,” Rooster tells you.
You obey, glad that Nick wasn’t smart enough to mess with your clothes. You grab a large duffel bag and start stuffing as much clothes as you can fit into it, walking into your bathroom and packing your toiletries. When you enter your room again, you find Jake looking in the box of photos your parents left you.
“What’re you doing?” you ask.
“Sorry, I just saw the top photo and was curious,” he tells you. He looks up at you form the where he’s kneeling and softens his eyes. “Sorry, I should’ve asked.”
“Yeah, you should’ve,” you spit. “Just so you know, you’re not allowed to snoop or ask me things.”
“What makes you think I want to?” he asks, standing at his full height. He practically towers over you but you’re not scared. Just opposite actually, you feel weirdly safe.
“The look you gave me the first time you met me and knew my call sign.”
Jake steps closer to you, almost touching your chest to his body. “Is it because you don’t know me?”
“No, it’s because I don’t trust you.”
“But you trust me enough to live with me for a bit?” Jake smiles cockily, green eyes lighting up in amusement.
Your breathing slows, realizing just how close he is to you. He smells delicious, manly and sweet at the same time. Addicting as fuck. When she lowers his head to whisper in you rear, you have to fight the urge to sniff him.
“It’s okay, I know I’m addicting,” he whispers, lips brushing rhe shell of your ear.
You’re about to move your head to face Jake when you hear Rooster ask, “You ready?”
You pull away from a now smiling Jake and nod. Rooster looks between the two of you before smirking and motioning you to follow him with a jerk of his head. You do only stopping in the doorway and telling Jake, “Don’t fall for me and don’t deny you aren’t because I feel it. Trust me, you don’t want to be with me.”
Next part
tags: @akilatwt @russopalette
#glen powell#fanfic#glen powell x reader#jake hangman fic#jake hangman seresin#hangman x reader#hangman x you#latina reader
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