#bradley bradshaw x OC

[topgun-imagines]

Say My Name

Requested: no

Summary: You find out just how big Bradley is. He really does live up to his call sign.

Word count: 3.4k

Note: banner by @lewmagoo

Warnings: smut, oral sex (f!recieving), fingering, anal fingering, size kink, overstimulation, unprotected sex, cum play. Please let me know if I missed anything!

Pairings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader

The air in the bedroom was filled with tension. You were on your third glass of wine and Bradley had just begun pouring his second. Nerves surged through you. Tonight, you were planning on having your first time with Bradley. While the two of you had been dating for nearly seven months, you had yet to sleep together. The thought had you nervously fiddling with the hem of your short skirt.

Bradley had made the two of you a nice dinner before leading you to his bedroom. Despite how much you wanted this, you couldn’t settle the butterflies in your stomach. Sure, you had slept with others before Bradley. However, given the things that you had heard about him from his fellow pilots, you felt more nervous than usual as you stared at the gold chain he was wearing. You had done some sexual stuff with the pilot before, but you had yet to see what he was packing. Honestly, that was what had you the most nervous.

No matter how hard you tried to ignore the teasing from the rest of his squadron about his size, you simply couldn’t. Not when Jake kept making crude remarks about his callsign having some sort of double meaning and teasing you about what he saw in the locker rooms. You could never get away from it. Now, you couldn’t help but find yourself staring at the bulge straining in his jeans.

His deep chuckle was what broke you out of your trance. “See something you like, Princess?” There was a teasing lilt to his voice. You blushed deeply, sipping the last drop of wine from your glass. “C’mere.” He rasped. Instantly, you obeyed, crawling into his lap and straddling his thick thighs. His glass was set on the nightstand before his hands came to sit on the tops of your thighs.

The tickle of his mustache as he peppered kisses across your neck had you squirming in his lap. You clenched around nothing at the guttural groan he let out. From where you were sitting right now, you could tell he was big. Moaning quietly, you nearly melted when Bradley gripped your hips and pulled you down closer to his growing bulge.

“Bradley,” You moaned out with barely concealed need. Another grunt was released into your neck. “Fuck,” Panting with your head tossed back, the feeling of Bradley’s lips travelling down your chest had you shivering. “I need you. Please.” It was the neediest sound you had ever made in your life.

Time seemed to stand still as Bradley lifted you off his lap. You whined at the loss of warmth before laid you down on the bed and crawled on top of you. Cooing quietly at your pitiful whine, the pilot smirked at your frantic state. As Bradley continued to kiss down your neck, your chest was rising and falling quickly. “I’m gonna make you feel real good, baby girl.” His words were a promise; one that you knew he would make good on.

Your blouse was slowly unbuttoned as Bradley peppered kisses across your soft skin. When he finally reached the last button, you were out of breath, panting loudly. Now, you were left in nothing but your lacy bra and short skirt. Unbeknownst to Bradley, you had nothing on under that skirt. Feeling Braldey’s mustache tickling the sensitive skin of your stomach had you wanting to giggle. But the pleasurable warmth in your core had you moaning out instead.

Next, Bradley began massaging your thighs, shimmying further down the bed until he was level with your thighs. You breathed in deeply, nerves rearing their ugly head again. Ever so slowly, Bradley reached under you and pulled the zipper of your short skirt down. It took every fibre of your being to focus your breathing. Bradley had eaten you out before, but knowing what would be coming after had you shaking.

Your legs parted enough so that Bradley could slot in between them, knees bending and feet planted firmly on the cool sheets. Before you even realized what was happening, Bradley had your legs tossed over your shoulder and he was softly nipping the sensitive insides of your thighs. When Bradley lifted his head, he was met with the sight of your bare, puffy cunt. He groaned loudly, his cock managing to harden even more in his tight jeans.

Seconds later you were met with the feeling of Bradley’s tongue running over your slit delicately. Instantly, a sharp cry escaped you. Tangling your fingers in your boyfriend's curly hair, you tugged when his lips sealed around your clit. The feeling had you arching off the bed, your heels digging into the pilot’s back.

For the next few minutes, the only sounds that could be heard in the room were your loud, wanton moans and the lewd sounds coming from between your legs. Bradley’s tongue was now prodding against your entrance, teasing you relentlessly. You found it hard to breathe as cry after cry escaped you. Slowly, your high began building. When two of your boyfriend’s thick fingers pushed meticulously inside your weeping cunt, your back arched so hard off the bed, Bradley had to pause to make sure you were okay.

The grin on his face when he heard your needy whines was nothing short of devious. Without hesitation, he returned to sucking on your clit and working his fingers in and out of your slick entrance quickly. “Oh!” You cried out from the delicious

Bradley was relentless. His thick fingers stretched you open deliciously, making a scissoring motion as he licked around your greedy hole. Your moans slowly grew higher and higher in pitch. Outside of your field of vision, Bradley brought his other hand up and between your legs. The sudden press of his thumb against your tight, puckered hole had you nearly screaming. “Oh, my god.” The words were slurred together. That familiar coil in the pit of your stomach was almost ready to snap.

The tip of his thumb suddenly slipped into your tight hole, creating a delicious pressure. More slick leaked from your slit. As Bradley’s fingers kept up their pace inside of your puffy cunt, the squelching sound got louder the wetter you got. There wasn’t a single coherent thought in your mind as Bradley’s thumb pushed further into your ass, his fingers stretched apart even further and his lips sealed around your clit. All at once, he sucked on your clit harshly, pressed his fingers into your sweet spot, and pressed his thumb in as far as possible.

You were so close. In a few seconds, you would be gushing around his fingers. “Bradley,” You panted, fingers gripping his brown locks like a lifeline. “Stop.” He froze instantly, eyes snapping up to meet yours. His fingers slowed until they stopped and his thumb moved to draw back. But when you whined at the sensation in your puckered hole, he stopped his movements altogether.

“Honey?” He started, rubbing your thigh softly and smearing your slick on your smooth skin in the process. “What’s wrong.?” It was whispered into the soft skin of your stomach The tickle of his mustache against your stomach had you giggling. Even though your core was clenching around nothing and you could still feel his finger moving slowly inside your ass. Regardless of the worry bubbling in his chest, Bradley smiled at the sound of your laughter.

You offered him a blissed-out smile, moaning softly at the movements of his thumb. “Nothin’,” At those words, Bradley slipped his fingers back inside of your dripping cunt. You were so wet that there was zero friction as he pushed them in until the second knuckle. You were instantly whiny again. “Wait,” You tried again. This time, Bradley only slowed his ministrations. “I wanna come on your cock.” The widest grin you had ever seen broke out on your boyfriend's face.

Teasingly, he leaned down and allowed his tongue to flick over your clit. A chuckle escaped him. You had no idea what you were in for. “Honey,” There was a teasing lilt to his voice. “You’re gonna need at least two before I even think about letting you cum on my cock.” His words caused you to let out a shuddering breath. Sure, you knew that he was big. After all, you couldn’t go anywhere without someone reminding you of that fact. But his words caused you to wonder just how big he was.

Before you could snark back, his thumb pushed in as far as it could and his lips sealed around your clit. Crying out again, your heels dug further into Bradley’s back and you pulled so hard on his curly locks you thought that some of the hair would come out. Instead, he groaned and began slurping harder. Within seconds, you were gushing around his fingers, cuming so hard you could have sworn you saw stars.

As you were coming down, Bradley drew his thumb from your ass and pulled his sticky fingers from your core. Your cum slowly dripped down your opening. Once you were coherent again, your eyes slowly looked down at Bradley. He was transfixed on the sight between your thighs. The tip of his index finger slowly began to swirl through the creamy mess between your thighs. It dipped shallowly into your opening and scooped out some more of your cum.

The overstimulation was almost becoming too much for you. Now, Bradley’s finger was swirling your cum around your sensitive clit. Your whines were breathly, so much so that Bradley could hardly hear them. Nevertheless, he continued, drawing moan after moan from your parted and chapped lips.

Within minutes, you were right on the brink again. Feeling that delicious pressure building faster than ever, you shifted your hips until Bradley’s face was, quite literally, buried in your slick cunt. As you tipped over the edge for the second time in a matter of minutes, Bradley stared at your expression in awe.

Your legs were shaking. So much so that Bradley was almost convinced he went too far. But when your eyes fluttered open, Bradley could see the pure pleasure swimming in your eyes. “How was that, Honey?” There was a low timbre to his voice as the coarse hairs of his mustache rubbed against your smooth thighs. Your breathing was heavy and your fingers couldn’t stop twitching, but you had never felt better. So that was exactly what you told him.

“That was amazing,” You sat up, half expecting Bradley to push you back down and pull another orgasm from you. Crawling up your body, one of your boyfriend’s large hands rubbed at your side before grabbing your tit. A soft moan escaped you before you grinned up at the pilot. “But, I think you know that I want something else.” Your words were punctuated with a soft squeeze of his rock-hard cock.

The groan that he released was nearly primal. With one last passionate kiss pressed to your lips, he slowly, almost teasingly, unbuttoned his jeans. Then, he peeled his black boxers off his toned and muscular thighs. Your eyes were fixed between his legs, not blinking as you came face to face with his sheer size. “B-Bradley,” You stuttered, beginning to shake slightly. Snapping your eyes up to meet his, your boyfriend had a smug grin on his face. “There’s no way that that’s going to fit.”

The chuckle that escaped him was nearly mocking. “Yes, it will.” Those were the last words he spoke before he was leaning over you again. His hard cock rubbed into your thigh while he was sucking dark marks that contrasted against your unblemished skin into the side of your neck.

After a few minutes of nothing more than kissing softly, Bradley finally pulled back. His hands were warm as they rubbed softly over your sides, an attempt to soothe you that didn't go unnoticed. “Are you ready, baby?” Regardless of the fact that you couldn’t tame the nerves fluttering in your stomach, you nodded. With a smile, he kissed your forehead. Against your skin, he whispered that he was going to get a condom and the lube.

You stopped him. For the first time tonight, you felt one hundred percent prepared for what was about to happen. “No,” Bradley looked at you confused, wondering why you had changed your mind. Kneeling next to him, you placed one hand on his bare chest, stroking the tanned skin softly. Seductively, you whispered in his ear. “No condom. I wanna feel you.” You were on the pill, and you knew that both Bradley and yourself were clean.

His breathing seemed to stop and then there was a wide smile on his face. You squealed when he kissed you passionately, laying you down on the bed and leaving you breathless as he disappeared in search of lube. The sight of his bare backside walking away had you giggling dreamily. When he returned from the bathroom, you were met with the sight of his shockingly large cock between his legs. At that sight, you didn’t laugh as much.

For the next few seconds, you and Bradley were quiet. Soft touches were shared between the two of you before your boyfriend pulled back once more. His fingers dipped between your legs, checking to see just how wet you were. A soft moan escaped you as he swirled your slick around your clit. The next thing you knew, you could hear the cap of the lube snapping open. Suddenly, you felt the cold drop running down your slit. A hiss escaped you before Bradley slipped his fingers into you once more.

The next few minutes were spent with Bradley opening you up even further than you already were. You could feel that familiar pressure building once more. But, instead of Bradley leading you over that delicious edge, he stopped right as you were about to tip over. You groaned.

With a chuckle, Bradley slowly crawled up your body. “You ready, baby?” You could only nod, wanting nothing more than for Bradley to be seated inside of you. As he poured some more lube onto his hand, you got a sinister idea. The thought had you smirking. However, you were stopped in your tracks as you watched Bradley wrap his hand around his thick cock. His fingers couldn’t even touch.

For the first time tonight, you found yourself focusing on his cock. It was long, longer than you had seen before and curved toward the end. His tip was an angry red colour and as he stroked himself, you could see the pre-cum leaking down his shaft. Your eyes traced the vein that ran up the bottom before your eyes snapped up to your boyfriend’s. He had caught you red-handed.

Now, you decided to act on your plan. Before Bradley could realize what was happening, you had flipped him over and were straddling his thick thighs. He looked up at you in shock. With one hand, you gripped his cock and with the other you stabilized yourself against his chest. Biting your lip, your eyes locked with his as you began to stroke him. After a few seconds of building up your courage, you slowly sank down on him. Your warm and slick cunt sunk down onto his fat, mushroom tip with hardly any resistance.

Within the first few seconds, you were a moaning mess. There was less than two inches inside of you and you were already losing your mind. You couldn’t even begin to fathom taking the rest of him. Bradley could sense that you were struggling, so, your boyfriend’s hands gripped your hips. Slowly, he helped you sink down onto him. The breath rushed from your lungs in a matter of seconds. Now, you were just over halfway down Bradley’s cock and you felt like you were being split in half.

“That’s it, Princess,” He encouraged you as your greedy cunt swallowed another inch of him. “Doing so good.” With careful movements, he pulled you down until your head was resting on his chest, the steady sound of his heartbeat under your ear. Ever so slowly, Bradley pulled down your hips until they were flush with his. The second he was fully seated inside of you, you let out the most pornographic moan Bradley had ever heard.

One of his hands grabbed your ass and the other cradled the back of your head. The next few minutes were spent with Bradley simply letting you adjust to his size. His sheer girth had you whining quietly against his skin, sticky with sweat. After about four minutes, Bradley planted his feet and shifted slightly. That caused the tip of his cock to press right against your sweet spot. Once again, you couldn’t help but moan loudly.

Ever so slowly, your boyfriend began rocking into you. With each thrust, Bradley would only pull himself out a little bit, leaving the rest of his pulsing cock stuffed inside of you. Then he would push back in, filling you to the brim once more. The feeling of his mushroom tip hitting your spot over and over again had you seeing stars. “Say my name.” It was more of a command than a request.

“Fuck, Bradley!” You cried out, hips beginning to raise and fall of their own accord. He grunted hips smacking into yours as he fucked you.

You grunted, feet planted firmly against the bed as he pistoned his weeping cock into you. “No,” He taunted, slowing his thrusts until he was hardly moving. “Not that one.” The realization of what he wanted you to do was almost enough to make you cum.

“Oh my god,” You rushed out, fist forming as you curled into his chest further. “Rooster!” It was almost a scream. The way the words rushed out of you so fast, Bradley was almost concerned. Almost. “Rooster, please. Please fuck me.” At that, Bradley moaned. He had never heard such a sweet sound as you begging for him to fuck you. It was music to his ears.

Loud moans and grunts filled the room as Bradley began to thrust harder and deeper. Now you were clinging to him, puffy cunt stretched out more than you ever would have thought possible. Your boyfriend gripped your hips harshly, raising you up on his thick cock before slamming you down onto him. That sent a sharp cry out of you, your face turning until it was buried against his chest.

Suddenly, your whole body tensed. Bradley, once again, had slipped his thumb into your tight ring of muscle. The moan that you let out was nearly a scream. Feeling his thick cock in your dripping core and his thumb pushing into your ass sent you reeling. “Imagine what my cock would feel like in this tight, little ass of yours.” He punctuated his words with a hard thrust. His thumb slipped out of your ass seconds later. The fucked-out look on your face wasn’t going away anytime soon.

This pattern continued for the next few minutes until Bradley's thrusts began growing erratic. You were so, so close. All you needed was a little bit more and you would be falling into blissful pleasure. Bradley gave you that little bit more in mere seconds.

His thumb pressed hard against your clit, rubbing the small pearl in circular motions. You found yourself clenching around him with your eyes rolling back. There was an obscene amount of your sweet release leaking out around your boyfriend’s thick cock. He held you carefully as you slowly came down from your high.

Before you had time to recover, however, your boyfriend was pumping his cum into you, thick, white ropes painting your walls. You shuddered at the foreign feeling. Regardless of the other guys you had been with before, you had never let any of them do what you and Bradley just did. His cock was still throbbing inside you. The feeling almost had you cumming again.

Ever so slowly, Bradley lifted you off his softening cock. It had you whining and whimpering. You clenched around nothing, his cum starting to leak out of you. It dripped onto his lap as he pulled your hips up. You were breathless as he set your hips down on his thigh, your cunt clenching desperately at the pressure suddenly placed on your clit. His arms wound around your stomach, holding you tightly against his sweaty chest.

In less than five minutes, you were drifting off against his chest, feeling his warm cum still dripping out of your puffy and abused cunt. Needless to say, the next day, you were walking with a limp.

a/n: Thank you for reading! Requests are open :)

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[sunlightmurdock]

Ashes, Ashes | Two | Bradley Bradshaw

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Synopsis: In which Maverick didn’t make it home after the Uranium mission. He’s missing, presumed dead. There are things that have to be done — someone has to take care of the house, the bills.

So, Maverick’s daughter is back in Fightertown for the first time since she was in elementary school. There’s a gaping hole in both of their lives now, and somehow, the world’s supposed to just keep on turning without him.

warnings: bradley bradshaw x minimally descriptive oc avery mitchell. age gap (23/33), smut, angst, hurt / comfort, mentions of character death, mourning, military inaccuracies. This entire fic and my blog is an 18+ space, minors do not interact. Do not repost.

…

Bradley rents a bungalow about twenty minutes from base, towards the south of the San Diego bay. He explains, on the drive there, while she is hugging an overnight bag of her things, that he’s been renting it from this sweet old lady for the past four years — but he’s only been living in it for about three quarters of that time, with deployments.

He talks a lot. Shooting halfway amused looks across at him every now and again as he talks over his music, explaining his entire rental history, Avery just lets him go on and on.

Maybe he’s worried that the silence will give her room to start tearing up again, but she knows that won’t happen — it was already a rare occurrence, just the once. 

She lets him talk. He doesn’t seem to mind how much attention she’s paying either. Anything other than silence is fine, even if he’s the only one filling it.

The respite comes when he parks in the driveway, hops out, and proudly displays the home to her. It’s white all over and covered in plants, all up the driveway and over the porch. There’s a surfboard sitting on the porch, waxed up and looking ready to go.

Inside is masculine and simple, and spotless. It looks more lived in than Maverick’s place, but in an exceptionally organised way. 

Just past the front door, he has an organised entryway with a closet and one of those shoe racks that looks like an end table. 

Beyond that, his living area is all open plan. His kitchen is to the left right as you walk in, and the living room is the clear focus. He’s got a big grey sectional pointed at a big tv with a stack of video games beside it.

He doesn’t ask her to take her shoes off by the door, but she copies politely when he kicks his off. 

That leaves her, blue and white tube socks, toeing against the chewed up corner of the area rug while he busies himself with fixing the few things he deems to be out of place. 

Itching to keep moving, she prods at the fabric, examining the teeth marks, wondering where the dog must be.

“Oh— that was my ex-girlfriend’s dog. I���ve been meaning to buy a new rug.” He explains, furrowing his brows at the spot as he tosses a throw pillow down onto his soft looking grey couch. “Um — so, I do have a guest room, but it’s kind of a gym right now. You can just make yourself at home, and I’ll go get everything out of your way.”

“I can take the couch.”

“No, no, you deserve some privacy at least. I’ll just be a sec — I have sodas and beers in the fridge, glasses are in the cabinet to the right. Help yourself.” He’s a good host, and a better one than she had been yesterday, considering that Maverick’s place is now technically her own.

As he heads for the long, stretching hallway, she shoots a look back down at the mauled rug. With how spotless the rest of this place is, he must have really liked that girl to let her bring her dog here, and to let it chew up his stuff.

She wonders, aimlessly, if he was mad about it. If they argued. If they broke up long ago.

Avery hasn’t had too many relationships of her own. Some mediocre sex and a couple of couch-based movie dates here and there, nothing to write home about. 

She sits cautiously, sinking into the pillowy cushion of the couch, taking the time finally to really look around her. The space is bright, with big windows all around and a view of the bay. There’s a sun catcher dancing from the curtain rod, casting rainbows across his wooden floors.

Maybe his ex had bought that, too.

The bungalow is small, but it fits all of his belongings with an abundance of space left. Avery thinks back to her father’s place, always cluttered and spilling over with junk, treasure from his years of travels.

Maybe Bradley is a little bit less sentimental about keeping things.

He rattles around in the room at the end of the hall for a while, huffing occasionally. While waiting on the couch, she considers getting up and offering to help a few times, but ultimately convinces herself against it.

“Alright! Fresh sheets and some space to move, there’s still a bunch of stuff in there but I tried to get it out of your way.” He comes strolling back down the hallway and drops down onto the couch at her side, letting out a heavy sigh.

She screws her mouth up a little, looking across at him while he rests his eyes, long, dark eyelashes brushing his warm cheeks. His long legs, covered by worn denim, stretch out far enough that he has to bend them around his coffee table.

When one hand comes up to card through his mussed curls, she catches sight of the tattoo inked across the expanse of his bicep. LXXXVI. ‘86. She starts to think on it, letting him enjoy his moment of peace, when he shifts and startles her enough to drag her eyes away from his flexing arm.

“Thanks, for everything,” Avery manages to still sound a little cautious in her tone, even when she’s rushing to speak. “Staying last night, driving me around today, letting me stay with you. I really appreciate it.”

He smiles without opening his eyes, reaching out and letting his hand pat skim across the seam of her jeans, patting at her knee platonically.

“Any time.” He breezes, cool. 

The first night is uneventful. Avery sleeps restlessly on the futon in Bradley’s spare bedroom, turned home gym. 

She pretends that she doesn’t see the numbers on the sides of the weights, and pretends also that she doesn’t give a little bit of her imagination to the way that tattoo must move when he lifts them.

When she wakes up, Bradley is gone and there is a note on the kitchen counter explaining that he went for a run. He was gone for two hours, trying to run far enough that the sick, hot, thudding feeling in his chest would stop.

Back at the house, Natasha stops by and spends the afternoon. She lets herself into the place with her key, which sits on her own keychain like she’s had it for a while. Watching a sitcom from the armchair while they sit beside each other on the couch, Avery notices that the two of them are very close.

She wonders if Natasha happens to have a dog.

Sleep doesn’t come any easier for either one of them the second night. When he finally catches sight of the red, flashing declaration on his alarm clock that it is now 2:01am, Bradley gives up.

He tries to be quiet as he’s getting up, careful not to wake Avery. They’re in much closer quarters in his place than they had been back at Maverick’s house, her door is right opposite his across the narrow hallway.

He pads down the hallway, rubbing at his eyes, tossing up whether he’s going to try to drink something warm and go back to bed, or if he’s just going to stay up. He can’t keep not sleeping.

He almost heads straight for the kitchen, freezing in his tracks as he finally takes note of the blue light coming from his living room, and the sound of women’s voices. It takes him a second, even though he’d been being so considerate on her behalf, to remember that he has a guest over.

“Ave?” He mumbles. 

The TV immediately falls silent. She winces from her spot on the couch, craning her neck to try to see him at the edge of the hallway.

“Just me. I’m sorry! Did I wake you?” She sounds worried. He’s still half asleep. 

He shakes his head as he steps out from the shadows and heads for his kitchen. “No, I just wasn’t expecting you to be up. I couldn’t sleep.”

He passes by pretty quickly, concealed behind the kitchen island in just a few steps. Still, she saw him. Illuminated only by the light of the television, wearing a tight pair of black boxer briefs and dog tags around a silver chain. Long, muscled legs and tapered hips. 

Sure, he was good looking before, and clearly fit — but she wasn’t expecting what had been under those slightly loose t-shirts.

Her mouth is dry as she mumbles out a soft, “Me either.”

“D’you want a tea?” He stands with her back to her now, reaching around in the darkness of his kitchen. She stares, unblinking, at his back.

“You drink tea?”

“Sometimes,” He cranes his neck to look at her over his shoulder. “That’s not weird.”

Her lips almost quirk, and she gives him a confirming shake of her head. “I didn’t say it was. Do you have green tea?”

He scoffs without looking. “Of course I have green tea.”

This whole lack of sleep thing isn’t new to him. It comes with the grief, but it’s there even when he feels like he isn’t grieving anymore. Since he was a kid, Bradley has had thoughts that keep him up at night, thoughts bad enough to stir him from peaceful, pleasant dreams.

He’s tried every tea in the catalog.

He carries the two mugs across the living room without once noticing the way he’s been stared at. He sets hers down on a cute little wicker coaster on his coffee table, walking past and dropping down onto the corner of the sectional.

His legs stretch out and he shifts and twists until he finds himself comfortable. “What’s this?”

She sets her gaze steadily on the television, her hands in her lap, wondering if he’s this brash with all of his house guests. With a swallow, she shrugs her shoulders. “Oh, it’s just this TV show about a columnist in New York in the nine—“

“Are you explaining Sex and the City to me?” Bradley sounds bewildered, his face stark as he stares at her across the couch. Avery’s lips tug at a smile, and she almost forget the nerves she’d been feeling.

Until, the light from the television catches on the silver of his dogtags. Her gaze drops, like a flicker, to his bare, toned chest — and she swiftly looks back to the television.

“You’ve seen it?” She asks softly.

He’s beyond good looking. He’d always been okay looking, he’d had a nice smile in all of those pictures she had seen. But now, the roundness of his cheeks is gone and he has grown into his nose, his lips are a shade of pink that would be a bestseller in cosmetics. 

Avery curses herself; she had been pretty successfully pretending not to notice that he had gotten good looking. Then, he comes strolling down that hallway and making her tea from his apparently extensive collection, having the nerve to sprawl across his own couch looking like that. 

Across from a girl who hasn’t seen any action in the better part of a year too. 

She almost scowls. 

“Every episode,” He answers gleefully. At first, she thinks of Natasha or that mysterious girlfriend with the badly behaved dog. Then, he adds, “This was my mom’s favourite TV show, ever.”

And suddenly, she feels a little guilty for acting like those muscles make him some kind of ladies’ man. Just because the rest of them have been, she guesses. 

Bradley seems like a nice guy. He slept in a bed clearly meant for a child all night last night, and he let her take the first shower this morning, he chased her across the parking lot and offered to fix all of her problems in one fell swoop. 

Maybe that’s because of some kind of debt he thinks he owes to Pete, and maybe it’s just because that’s the kind of man he is.

She glances across, watching him chuckle at a classic Samantha one-liner and take a sip of a raspberry herbal tea. Wrinkling her nose, she settles back down into the spot she had been relaxing in, and lets herself zone out again. 

They watch a couple of episodes. Unlike earlier, Bradley doesn’t feel the need to talk. He likes the quiet, mixed with their frequent chuckles. It’s an okay thing, to not have to fill that silent void. 

Avery is the first to excuse herself to go back to bed, and she hasn’t once mentioned his little Calvin Kleins or the way they make his thighs look. 

As she walks away, Bradley catches himself. He hadn’t much thought about what she might wear to bed, or what she’d been wearing when he first sat down with her. Her hips wiggle in her stride, her fitted pyjama shorts hugging her ass as she heads for the guest room. 

The material of her loose t-shirt is tucked in at the back. Those cotton shorts hug her hips and show off just the tiniest glimpse of her round ass, from where they have ridden up a little.

He looks away before she’s even out of view, but it doesn’t change what he had been thinking. She’s Pete’s kid, for gods’ sakes. Not much of a kid anymore, but still, it wouldn’t be right.

Man, Maverick would hate it, too. 

Bradley wishes, silently, that he was here to scold him. Pete would square his shoulders and get that rare and serious look on his face, warning Bradley to keep his hands to himself. And Bradley would smile and taunt him, saying, “Don’t worry, Mav, I’ll be the perfect gentleman.”

With her dad gone, it just makes it worse.

These next few weeks are going to be hard, and the least he could do is think with his head to keep things simple between the two of them. He heads back to bed late enough for it to almost not be worth it. 

He wakes to the sound of chaos over the comms, that same last conversation, those snowy peaks behind his eyelids. 

Mouth dry, heart thudding, his eyes are still shut when he stumbles out into the hall and twists the bathroom door handle. It jams, and he remembers. The sounds of water coming from behind the door stops abruptly.

Peeking her head around the shower curtain, already wincing, Avery calls back out to him. “Sorry! I’ll just be a second!”

“No — sorry, take as long as you want.” He calls back, shaking his head and heading for the kitchen. Restless and anxious, he splashes cold water across his face and thinks about Pete.

He saw Mav do this insurmountable times. He remembers all of the mornings that Mav would wake up gasping, shaking, and he would head straight for the bathroom, bolting the door. He’d come back out okay again. He wonders if Mav still did it, even all these years later.

If he still heard Goose’s voice through the comms, calling him out of his dreams. 

The thought makes him shudder. The bathroom door unlocking makes him flinch, looking up sharply. 

Avery steps out of the bathroom, her hair still dry and tied back, droplets of water still beading along the skin and flowing under the plush blue towel she had taken from the linen closet. He had told her to help herself, but he’s staring at her now and she’s second guessing herself.

He stands at his kitchen sink, his hands braced against the countertop, his knuckles white. She barely even notices his little Calvin Kleins. Her brows knit together as she takes a step toward him, barely visible around the corner.

“Hey… are you okay?” Her face creases with concern, lingering in the hallway so that he can see her just enough.

He remembers to let go of the countertop.

“Yeah,” He breathes out, unconvincingly, reaching up and shaking a hand through his tangled curls. He takes a second, trying to gather his thoughts enough to keep the conversation moving. “Were you still thinking you’re gonna need a job while you’re here?”

She blinks, her scrunched up face relaxing as she takes another step closer, cocking her head at him.

“Um, yeah. I think so.”

He nods. “Get dressed. We’ll go see my friend in a bit, can see if it’s something you might be interested in. Maybe, then we’ll take your car to a mechanic this afternoon.” 

Out of the house, he feels like he can breathe again. It’s just sleeping, that’s all. When he’s really awake, he can control it all a little better, it doesn’t get to him as much.

He drives the same way he had yesterday. Three fingers around the bottom of the wheel, seventies music playing. Today, the windows are down. Avery makes a pretty good passenger — she doesn’t ask him to change his music and she doesn’t put her head in the way when he’s trying to check his mirrors.

Mainly because she isn’t once watching the road, but that’s okay. 

She looks around the city like she’s seeing it for the first time. Mav lived her for longer than she’s been alive — and the entire place seems foreign to her.

Bradley knows both of his parents’ hometowns like the back of his hand, and he still hasn’t ever lived in either one of them. 

“Did your dad ever tell you about Penny?” He asks so calmly, drumming his fingers along the wheel, Ray-Ban caravans sitting across the bridge of his nose.

The look that Avery shoots him gives him more than enough of an answer. She sets her phone down in her lap and studies him, frowning slightly.

“Who’s Penny?”

Shit. Bradley shakes his head and his voice pitches up a fraction. “Oh, she and Mav were just good friends for a long time.”

A product of one of Maverick’s ‘good friendships’ herself, Avery doesn’t need Bradley to explain to her what that means. It makes her a little less excited to get to wherever he’s taking her. 

With one quick glance across, he catches the little frown settling across her lips.

“She owns that bar on Breakers Beach. We drove past it yesterday when we saw Admiral Simpson?” Bradley prompts her, glancing across at the passenger seat. She nods along. “I texted her yesterday and she really wanted to meet you, said you can have some shifts there if you want them.”

Avery wrinkles her nose, trying not to frown across at him when he’s doing his best to just be helpful.

“What? — What’s that look?” He prompts, looking across at her with an amused smile toying at his lips. 

“She’s like a long time ago ex, right? She wasn’t dating Pete recently?” 

Bradley thinks on his answer for a moment. He isn’t surprised that she figured out there was something between Mav and Penny, he would have figured it out too.

But, he had heard of Mav’s experience with Penny Benjamin a long time before he had actually gotten to meet Penny Benjamin. Really, he’s surprised to find that Avery has never heard of her, she and Mav were really on and off for quite a while.

He guesses that Mav kept that kind of thing from her.

Which means that he would want Bradley to keep the fact that he had seen Mav and Penny leave the bar together three times in the weeks leading the mission to himself too.

“Yeah. Like a long time ago.” He confirms.

“Alright, okay — yeah, this’ll be good,” Avery sounds more like she’s giving herself a pep talk than like she’s replying to him. He shoots her a smile and a nod anyway. “Thanks, again, by the way. You’re cool for setting this all up.”

Cool. Not the kind of compliment he’s usually searching for from a pretty girl, but he’ll take it.

Reaching across the centre console, he gives her knee a quick squeeze. “Not so bad yourself, Mitchell.”

Briefly, his palm lingers there. It’s just because he’s focusing on turning into the parking lot, but it’s still his large palm hugging the curve of her knee for a minute longer than it should have.

Completely over the thick protection of her jeans, but she stares at the touch anyways. Then, she dares to look back up at him. Totally relaxed as he pulls into a spot up front like it’s his own personal one. 

One more squeeze, and he takes his hand back and swings open the door. The parking lot is surprisingly busy for the middle of the week at noon.

 Avery follows him out of the vehicle, gingerly matching his pace as he heads inside. It’s once he’s spotted that she falters. 

“Rooster!” Someone even taller than he is comes marching up right away and throws his arms around Bradley. Bradley hugs him loosely, greeting him with an aloof but firm pat of the back.

“Payback.” He greets quietly.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you. How are you holding up?” His warm eyes bore into Bradley, his head bowed slightly and his voice sincere. He hasn’t spotted her yet.

“I’m alright,” Bradley sounds convincing enough, but this Payback guy hadn’t seen how rattled Bradley had looked this morning. “This is Avery.” 

Finally, Payback’s gaze flickers to the girl standing behind Rooster. Halfway tucked behind his shoulder, staring at him through her lashes, looking totally lost and sheepish.

“Mav’s kid?”

In the short time Bradley has known her, he knows that’s not the kind of response she would have wanted to get.

Swinging his arm out and throwing the heavy limb around her shoulders, Payback watches Rooster drag the stunned girl out from behind him and present her at his side. “It’d pay you to learn your new bartender’s name, Fitch.”

He’s looking Avery right in the eye, and he already can see that Bradley’s going to have to be reminded that not everyone likes the heavy handed approach to affection he can have.

Still, he smiles at her like he means it and nods his head respectfully.

“Already got it, it’ll be good to have you around, Avery.” 

A small smile works its way across her lips, grateful if not anything else.

“Nice to meet you.” She answers him quietly, stiff against Bradley’s side. He pats her back and urges her forwards.

“Here, this is Penny. Penny, meet your new bartender.”

Penny Benjamin is tall and striking, standing behind the bar with her eyes already on the new bartender. There’s a recognition and affection in the blue of her gaze that tells Avery she was lied to just a moment ago.

That’s a woman who cared deeply for Pete Mitchell.

It puts a bad taste in her mouth, a pit in her stomach, a sudden coldness about the possibility of this job. Even if just for a short time, for however long she’s here, she’s just going to be an extension of the man she had always felt so far from.

Penny cocks her head to the side, just a bit. Sure, she can see semblances of Pete in the girl across from her, but it’s the rigid, flighty look in her eyes that catches Penny’s attention. 

Across from her is someone with something to prove, and a character they’ve been playing for a long time now. That’s what feels most familiar.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Avery says stiffly, trying to sound like she means it. 

Penny nods, smiling. She glances towards Bradley, then back to the girl still tucked under his arm.

“You too. Let’s talk.” 

As Jimmy takes over the bar duties, Bradley’s left with the prospect of facing his friends when Penny and Avery disappear toward the back deck.

He scratches at the back of his neck, shooting one last look at the two of them over his shoulder, and wondering what he’s supposed to say to all of those guys. 

One by one, he could manage… but all in a group like that? — He hasn’t seen most of them since it happened. 

It’s Natasha that he can trust to catch his eye first, giving him that kind of look cautious parents give their kids when coaching them on a bike. She worries a lot for someone who swears that she doesn’t care about the meatheads she hangs out with.

He heads for her as coolly as he can manage, hoping that the other guys know not to give him a hard time today. They don’t, they never would. 

His therapist says it’s a defensive thing, the way he waits for people to say the wrong thing. When he’s hurt, he expects it, almost. He’s trying to get out of it. 

They can all give him credit for that.

Even so, it doesn’t take long for conversation to fade from small talk to the newest, most exciting subject.

“So, she’s staying at your place?” Natasha’s the first one to bring up the missing party, picking up on a comment about the two of them arriving together.

Bradley shakes his head and fiddles with his root beer bottle. “No, she’ll be over at Mav’s place once we get her car fixed up. It’s a real piece of shit, I don’t even know what they’d do to make it run any better.”

“Mav loves cars — and he lets her drive a shitbox like that?” It’s Javy who scoffs that out, the only one still talking about the Captain who had taken a shine to him in present tense. 

Bradley just shrugs. This isn’t the place to unpack whatever went down between Mav and Avery. He doesn’t know enough, even if he wanted to talk about it.

“She came all the way down here by herself?” Callie asks. She doesn’t say it, but she’s referring to the fact that her mother came all the way out to Lemoore to try to move her into the barracks like it was college when she was that age. 

Bradley shrugs again. He hasn’t heard much about Avery’s mom in the past twenty years, he isn’t even sure that he ever met her — certainly wouldn’t be able to pick her out of a crowd. All he knows is the gossip he’d gotten from his mom when it was all going down. 

“How’s she doing?” Bob asks, his blue eyes deep and sincere as he searches Bradley’s face, knowing better than to ask the same question. 

“Okay, I think.” Bradley muses, thinking of how quickly Avery had questioned the recovery efforts yesterday. “I dunno how close they were, but it’s always gotta be hard. Just… trying to make it a little easier on her, I guess.” 

They all nod, slowly.

And then Avery comes marching back inside, her chin high and her hair a little wind-swept, making a beeline right for the closest thing she’s got to a friend in this town.

“Hey.” Bradley offers her a smile, and reaches out for her. His hand grazes the back of her bicep, and she smiles more genuinely than she has in the past two days.

“Hi.”

He catches sight of himself being watched, and takes a look back over Avery’s shoulder to find Penny looking. Her blue eyes flicker down to his hand on Avery’s arm. 

Pursing her lips, she rolls her eyes and shakes her head, and Bradley’s mouth almost falls open. There’s no way she thinks that he’s hitting on Avery. He’s just being friendly.

Penny knows Bradley well enough to know that. He’s always been a very affectionate guy. Still, the look that she gives him is one that certainly, and silently, tells him to keep his hands to himself. 

He blinks, and finds his friends looking back at him expectantly. 

“So, you’re taking the job?” He checks, shaking off Penny’s watchful eyes and settling back into what he knows. Avery nods her head at him.

“Starting tomorrow.”

Tomorrow. That’s way soon. He’s going to have to make sure he doesn’t keep her up until four in the morning watching the misadventures of Carrie Bradshaw tonight. 

“Well, guys, say hi to your new bartender.” 

He brings the bottle of rootbeer back up to his lips and shoots a quick glance back over Avery’s shoulder. Penny stares back, unfazed, as he narrows his eyes back at her.

What does she know about anything, anyways?

…

[mynameismckenziemae]

I Love You Two

Part 1

(next part here)

Bradley Bradshaw x OFC x Jake Seresin.

Summary:

You (Olivia ‘Liv’ Kazansky) have been chasing Bradley Bradshaw as soon as you learned to walk. He follows his dad’s footsteps and joins the Navy after high school, and you move across the country for college a few years later at 18.

10 years pass but you never forget that brown-eyed boy…maybe that’s why yet another relationship fails. The friendship with Bradley is easily rekindled when you move back home, along with the feelings you’ve tried to suppress. It seems he feels the same about you after an incredible, life-changing night together. But he’s gone the next morning, without a word or even a note, leaving you heartbroken and humiliated.

A few months later, a green-eyed aviator defends your honor from a drunk patron while you’re bartending. To show your thanks, you buy him a drink that leads to a month-long fling, and a plan to pursue more when he gets back from his deployment.

After returning from a rough deployment of his own, Bradley’s determined to find you as soon as his feet touch dry land. Undeterred when you ignore his phone calls and leave his texts on read, he heads to the Hard Deck, hoping you’re there or that Penny will take pity on him. He’s spent countless nights beating himself up for leaving you the way he did and nothing will stop him from telling you how he really feels before he begs for your forgiveness and another chance.

But he finds you in the arms of the man who’s made the last 3 months of his life a living hell.

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

This is going to be a love triangle, why choose, enemies to lovers, repressed bisexuality, polyamorous angsty story. Please let me know if you have any questions and if you’d like to be added to the taglist.

Like everything else I write/post/reblog, this is not intended for anyone under the age of 18. It will contain adult language, themes, and situations. MDNI!

Warnings: Angst, adult language, smut.

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

A feeling of nostalgia has your hand pausing as you reach for the picture sitting on your dresser.

The 3-year-old version of yourself is grinning up at 6-year-old Bradley who’s sticking his tongue out to make you laugh. Even back then it was obvious you thought he hung the moon.

Bradley had always been so good to you; letting you tag along with his friends to play baseball, wiping your tears in middle school when you’d gotten teased for your braces, punching your wasted boyfriend for getting too handsy after prom. He wrote to you when he joined the Navy after he graduated, and let you crash at his shitty apartment when you were in college when he was stationed in Pensacola for spring break.

You were good to him too; you helped him pick out flowers for his crush for Valentine’s Day (even though it broke your heart), gave him your shoulder to cry on at his mom’s funeral, and bought him a pink, purple and blue pride flag when he came out to you as bisexual.

The two of you drifted apart when he got into a serious relationship, and not long after you did too.

Both relationships ended, he stayed single and you tried again, but it didn’t last either. You found yourself missing home. Missing Bradley.

The two of you picked up where you had left off when you moved home, like you’d never been apart. Your dormant feelings for him came back too, more intensely than ever. You started to suspect he felt the same; his once innocent touches now held intent, and you caught the heat in his gaze when his brown eyes lingered.

The simmering tension reached the boiling point the night before he deployed. One too many drinks at the Hard Deck gave you the courage to tell him how you felt; that you were in love with him.

Cold nauseating dread crept in at his silence from your admission. But then he kissed you. And didn’t stop.

A shiver dances down your spine at the memory of that night together; the way he pulled orgasm after orgasm from you with his mouth, hands, and cock, knowing your body like a longtime lover. You’d fallen asleep with a smile on your face, wrapped in his arms as the sunlight began to creep in through your bedroom windows.

A few hours later, you woke up cold and alone.

You hurried out of bed to see if he was in the kitchen or at least left a note. But the Bronco was gone and no note in sight. No new texts or missed calls when you’d found your phone. You’d fallen to the floor with a sob, heart-shattering when you’d dialed his number and went straight to voicemail.

When he didn’t reach out and avoided the Hard Deck when he came home for leave, you’d lost all hope.

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

You blink back the tears threatening to spill over now as you return to the present.

Taking a deep breath, you toss the framed photo into the box containing the rest of the things he gave you or reminded you of him before shoving it under your bed.

Next, you put on a set of clean sheets, you can’t help but picture how you’re going to dirty them with Jake.

He’s due back from his own deployment any day now and you couldn’t wait to have him over for the first time. During your month-long fling, you’d preferred his apartment as the heartbreak from Bradley had been too fresh and you hadn’t been ready to welcome another man into your home yet.

Jake unintentionally snuck through the walls you constructed around your heart a few months after you’d given up on Bradley.

While bartending, a drunk patron had started to get handsy. You’d noticed Jake watching, but you had it handled; brushing it off at first and then getting stern. When the drunk cornered you in the hallway, you got scared. But Jake had stepped in with his southern drawl and escorted him (none too gently) outside. You’re not sure what Jake said, but the color drained from the drunk’s face, and hasn’t been back since.

You had a cold beer waiting on the bar for him when he came back inside, shaking your head when he pulled out his wallet. So he claimed a stool at the end of the bar instead and proceeded to chat you up all night.

Like a moth to a flame, you were drawn to him; he was so easy on the eyes, a cocky- sarcastic-yet-somehow-still-charming-asshole. And he made you laugh, really laugh for the first time since Bradley broke your heart.

After the last call, he laid you down on the pool table and knelt on the beer-sticky floor to eat you out. The wrecked groan he let out when you pulled his hair had your toes curling and sent you spiraling. He too, because when you pulled him up with an order to fuck you, he mumbled an embarrassed, “Give me 5 minutes and I will,” before kissing you and doing just that.

The following weeks were the same; frenzied, hot, unable to keep your hands off the other. But during the times the two of you had to come up for air, you started falling for him.

You’d expected the worst when he asked to see you the night before he was scheduled to deploy for 3 months. But instead of another heartache, he asked not only to continue things when he returns but to make it official.

He’s called you every chance he got; which wasn’t many but you cherished each one. He didn’t talk much about life on the carrier besides complaining about a jerk in his new squadron but never elaborated, preferring to listen to you in the limited time he was granted.

The ping of an incoming text pulls you from your thoughts.

Penny: Have I told you lately that I love you?

Liv: 😑 Who called in?

Penny: Jimmy

Liv: I’ll be there at 4

Penny: You really are the best kiddo. Thank you.

Liv: You owe me 😘

With a sigh, you finish making your bed and get in the shower.

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

There are a few more texts when you get out of the shower and your heart speeds up when you see it’s from Jake.

Jake: Hey sweetheart

Jake: Just found out I’ll be stateside soon

Jake: I can’t wait to see you

Liv: I can’t wait to see you either, but I’m helping Penny out tonight until 10, Jimmy called out.

Jake: Goddamn it, Jimmy.

Liv: Right? You can always visit me too.

Jake: I’ll be there. Did you hear anything about that job?

Liv: I can’t believe you remembered. I got it! Orientation starts in a few weeks.

Jake: Congratulations! I’m thinking we should celebrate?

Liv: Thank you 😘 what are you thinking?

Jake: My head between your thighs to start.

Liv: I like the way you think.

Jake: I’ve gotta go, but I’ll see you soon.

Liv: Can’t wait.

Jake: Me either

You feel like you’re on cloud nine as you get ready, spending a little extra time on your hair and makeup in anticipation of seeing him.

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

Your phone rings on your way to the bar and the onslaught of emotions makes your stomach turn at the name on the screen.

Bradley.

You ignore the longing, hurt, anger, humiliation, and unfortunately excitement as you do the same to the call, letting it go to voicemail.

The feelings intensify when he calls again a moment later, but you refuse to do this with him.

Not now. Not ever.

Too little, too late.

He starts texting as you park around the back of the building.

Bradley: Call me when you get a chance.

Bradley: Please?

Bradley: We need to talk.

Bradley: I’m so sorry, I’ll explain everything. Bradley: Just call me back. Please, Liv. Or tell me where you are.

A smile pulls at your lips as you silence your phone before sliding it into your back pocket, leaving him on read.

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

To say it’s busy would be an understatement.

You hardly have time to breathe much less overthink things with Bradley for the first few hours. Eventually, he stops; that or your butt cheek has gone numb from the constant vibration through your jean shorts.

“What can I get you?” You ask, not looking up from your open till as khaki approaches the bar from the corner of your eye.

“A blow job?”

Your eyes fly to Jake’s at the sound of his voice.

“The shot of course,” he smirks.

“Of course,” you grin back, pushing the till closed before leaning across the bar to kiss him. You pull back to murmur. “Promise to keep your hands behind your back and swallow it all?”

You’re just teasing, but you don’t miss the way his pupils dilate and the slight flush your words cause. But he recovers, “Spitters are quitters.”

“Mhmm,” you hum, “and I’m no quitter.”

His eyes drop to your lips, remembering how right you are.

A throat clearing has you stepping back.

“Sorry for interrupting whatever the fuck that was,” Natasha says with a disgusted look, “You’re with Bagman, Liv?!”

���Hangman,” Jake corrects, resting his elbow on the bar.

“Whatever,” she’s still looking at you, a bit horrified, a little disgusted.

“Uh…yeah,” you reply, looking at Jake confused as you pull a couple of beers from the fridge before popping the caps off and handing them to her. “Why?”

“Your funeral,” is all she says before walking away.

“What was that all about?” You ask. “Wait-how do you guys know each other?”

“She’s-“ his response is drowned out by Penny ringing the bell, and the cheering that follows, “when’s your break?”

You look at the clock and then the decreasing crowd, “Should be okay to go now if you want to meet me round back? I’ll check with Penny.”

He nods before making his way there.

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

“I’ll be out back,” you tell Penny.

She nods just as Bradley struts through the door. He looks so fucking good in those tight jeans and one of Goose’s Hawaiian shirts, unbuttoned. The white undershirt is tight against the abs you traced with your tongue the last time you saw him.

He scans the place but you duck out of sight before he spots you.

Any questions you had and Bradley’s presence are forgotten when you swing open the door. Jake’s leaning against the building, twirling a toothpick with his tongue as he waits.

Your fingers pull it from his mouth and fling it away before meeting him halfway in a heated, biting kiss.

He turns, guiding your back against the wall and you both sigh when your hips meet. You can feel the heat from his erection through the layers of your clothes and when he thrusts, the seam of your shorts rubs your clit just right; you’re suddenly convinced you can’t wait until your shift is over.

“Liv?”

You sigh as he kisses a trail down your neck, not hearing your name being called.

“Liv!”

Recognition tugs as your lust-addled mind but then Jake nips your collarbone while he grinds his hips harder. If he keeps going just like that…

“Olivia!” The door slamming open against the wall beside you makes you both flinch.

“Liv?” The desperation in Bradley’s voice tugs at your heartstrings.

“What do you want Bradley?” You ask as Jake takes a step back, still close but no longer touching.

Bradley’s head whips toward you two, brow furrowing before he pulls Jake off you.

“What the hell!?” Jake pushes him once he gets his footing.

“I-what-Liv?” Bradley stutters before looking to you for an answer.

“What?” You cross your arms.

“I need to talk to you,” Bradley replies, “please.”

“Now you wanna talk?” You laugh without mirth. “Now?! After 6 months of nothing? No calls or texts or emails or letters?”

“Liv,” he winces, “I know. I fucked up, okay? I-“ he looks at Jake, “can we please talk about this privately? Or just not in front of Hangman?”

“Hangman?” You’re confused. Both he and Natasha know Jake’s callsign. “How…?” You trail off as you look between them.

“We were deployed together,” Bradley answers, “he was assigned to the Daggers.”

The thought of them being deployed together had occurred to you, but there were typically several squadrons on the carrier at a time, so it wasn’t likely that they knew each other more than in passing; much less being in the same squadron.

You look at Jake and he nods at your unasked question.

Bradley was the one he’s been complaining about.

“Anything you need to say, you can say in front of Hangman,” you sigh.

“I’d rather not,” Bradley says, his jaw clenching.

“Then fuck off,” you push off the building to head back inside but Bradley reaches for your arm.

“Bradshaw,” Jake warns, taking a step forward.

“I was scared,” Bradley says hoarsely as he releases your arm, “and I panicked. I can’t lose you, Liv. I can’t another person I care about; my parents, Mav…I’ve been beating myself since I left, trying to figure out a way to make things right, and just making things worse by not reaching out. I know. I fucked up and I’m so sorry. Let me make things right.”

“Same old Rooster,” Jake chuckles cruelly as he comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, “sitting too snug on that perch again, huh? Missed your chance. Again.”

Bradley watches him kiss your cheek and doesn’t look away as his lips start to make their way down your neck. You’re not a fan of being this affectionate in front of others but this feels…different. It almost seems like Bradley likes it too. Until he opens his mouth.

“You’re doing this to hurt me, aren’t you?” Bradley says lowly.

“Doing what to-what are you talking about?” You ask, confused.

“This,” Bradley nods at Jake, “You found out through Uncle Ice that he’s been making my life a living hell and decided to fuck him. Just to stick it to me.”

Jake stops kissing your neck to look at him too.

Hot, hurt tears fill your eyes and spill over before you can blink them back. Bradley’s bravado deflates as he realizes he’s so wrong; that he fucked up. Again.

“Fuck you,” you whisper, voice trembling before heading back inside, Jake shaking his head as he follows.

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

A/N: I…dunno what to say. I’m really excited for this and I really hope you’ll like it. What’d ya think? Is Bradley getting what he deserved or too harsh since he’s been through so much?

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

Please let me know if you want to be added to (or removed from) my taglist…and if I forgot to add you-it wasn’t intentional, just remind me and I’ll get you added.

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@fandomology101

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[beyondthesefourwalls]

Something Worth Remembering

Summary: You were hopeful that you’d be moved into your new house before Christmas, but after another renovation delay, that’s not in the cards. To your credit, you make the most of the situation, and Bradley falls in love with you even more because of it. But he’s determined to make your first Christmas together special, and sets out to plan a surprise that ensures the holiday will be one both of you will always remember. 

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n)  

(can be read as Forgetful Boy and Pumpkin from RYEWID, but not necessary to read that first)

Word Count: 3.7K 

Warnings: Warm fuzzy Hallmark feelings. Language. Allusions to smut. 

Notes: Some holiday action for my faves. Written for @bellaireland1981's Winter RomCom Challenge with the prompt "home for the holidays”. Also as part of The Forgotten Moments Collection, but can very much be read by itself. 

—---

____

Bradley stopped short when he walked through the front door, eyes widening as he took in the scene in front of him. 

“Um…Pumpkin?” 

“You’re home!” 

You popped up so suddenly from the other side of the counter in the kitchen that he jumped slightly in surprise. “Am I?” he asked slowly, closing the door behind him and bending down to unlace and take off his boots. You laughed brightly as you stepped around some of the shopping bags on the floor to get to him. He accepted the kiss from you eagerly, feeling the stress from another work day dissipate as he wrapped his arms around you. 

“Contractors called,” you told him once you pulled back, resting a hand on his chest. Your ring sparkled in the light streaming in through the open curtains, and Bradley couldn’t help but smile before he registered the words. “There’s a delay with the electrician and the flooring.” 

Bradley groaned, the familiar annoyance of hearing the word “delay” coursing through him. The home the two of you had purchased was a fixer upper, tucked into the end of a cul de sac in a neighborhood not too far from base. There was work that needed to be done to make it everything you wanted, but neither of you had anticipated all the headaches that would come along with that. It would be a long project, you knew, but the contractor you had hired had promised it would at least be livable within the first few weeks. 

That had been nearly two months ago now, and the delays kept piling up. Barely anything had been done at this point, and he knew he’d have to call the administrative office tomorrow to extend the lease on the on-base apartment, again. 

“Of course there is.” 

You smiled gently, and Bradley couldn’t help but let some of the annoyance slip away at the soft look on your face. He took a deep breath and let himself relax, pressing a kiss to your forehead before releasing you. He gestured to the tiny apartment the Navy had provided you with, smaller than the shoebox you had called home back in DC, that definitely did not look like what it did when he left for work this morning. 

“Is that why it suddenly looks like Christmas threw up in here?” 

You threw your head back as you giggled. The sound caused a full blown smile to cross Bradley’s face, warming him from the inside out.

���I was holding out hope that we would be able to spend Christmas in our new house, even if it’s not finished. But since the electrician’s are delayed, the floor people can’t come until the 28th. So I decided to finally cave and decorate here instead. But I didn’t want to spend a bunch of money on nice decorations, because I want to save that for when we’re completely moved in next year.” 

“So…” 

“So I may or may not have bought out a good portion of the Dollar Tree Christmas aisle, and spent way too long deciding on white lights or multicolored lights for the $20 table top tree that I bought.” 

Bradley laughed loudly, looking around your temporary home once again. Red and green and gold covered the minimal available surfaces, and a small lopsided tree sat on the corner table in the living room, a bag of what he assumed to be decorations sitting beside it. Your cat, Florry, was curled up on top of a pile of bright green garland on the floor. 

"Who needs a fancy new house when we can have our own little tacky winter wonderland right here?"

Your eyes sparkled with delight as you spoke, clearly thrilled by the idea, or at least incredibly amused by it. Bradley knew that Christmas was your favorite holiday, and how much you loved the festive season. This would be the first one you ever spent together. When you had toured the house months ago, you had pointed out the perfect place for a tree and where certain decorations could go. You had been so excited to spend the holiday in your new home. As the delays started coming in you had adjusted just how grandiose your plans would be, but you had taken it in stride. Now you were only six days out from Christmas itself and you were once again just making the best of the situation that neither of you could control. 

Not for the first time, he wondered how he had gotten so lucky. 

"Alright, Pumpkin," he said, "Let me go change, and then I’ll help you make this the tackiest, most magical Christmas ever."

You grinned at him, a mischievous spark in your eyes. "Challenge accepted."

_____

The Dagger Squad had an impromptu and unofficial holiday party the next night at the Hard Deck, and it still blew Bradley away seeing you intermixed so perfectly with his friends, both old and new. You floated from conversation to conversation and when he wasn’t by your side, he watched you with a smile on his face. He knew you were perfect for him, but seeing you fitting in like this just reaffirmed it. 

“How’s the house coming along?” 

He looked over at Mav as he leant against the bar beside him, handing him a fresh beer. He was still getting used to being around his godfather after all this time, but they had settled into a peaceful kind of hesitancy as they relearned what it meant to be in the other’s life, and it was nice, even if Bradley had to remind himself to breathe sometimes. 

“Slowly.” 

His tone must have relayed how he was feeling because Mav shot him a sympathetic wince. “Another delay?” 

“Yup.” Bradley let out a frustrated sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. “They can’t get the electricians in until tomorrow, which is when the flooring was supposed to go in. So now that got pushed to after Christmas” 

Mav clasped a hand on Bradley's shoulder, offering a supportive squeeze. "It'll all come together eventually. How’s she taking it?” 

He snorted as he brought the drink to his lips, taking another sip. “She handles stress and shit like this better than anyone I know.” 

Mav smiled, nodding in what looked like approval. “You got yourself a good one.” 

Bradley hummed his agreement and let his eyes stray to you, chuckling softly when he saw you dancing with Nat. Sometime in the last few minutes, you had stolen the Santa hat that Coyote had arrived with, the red and white material perched on your head. You twirled around with his best friend to the Christmas song playing over the jukebox, laughing merrily. You really did love this time of year. 

You had told him that you didn’t care where you spent the holiday, so long as you were together. It was your first Christmas together, after all. But Bradley still felt guilty over not being able to get you into the house sooner. You had only been married for a few months, and you had given up your whole entire life to move out to California when he got permanently assigned here. It’s a decision you would make again and again, he knew, but he still wished there was something he could do, too. You had made far more sacrifices than he had. He wanted this holiday to be special. Memorable. 

You were just a little bit tipsy when you got back to the apartment that night. You had clung to Bradley’s arm with both of yours the whole way up to the third floor from the parking lot, but the moment you walk through the door, you’re releasing him to go plug in the tiny table top tree. You plug in the string lights lining the kitchen counters next, humming a christmas song he can’t quite place under your breath as you do. You turned to him once the space was illuminated, the soft golden glow highlighting your smile. 

“Pretty nice, huh? These cheap decorations aren’t so bad - I may just keep them for the new house, too.” 

Your ability to make the most of everything made his heart stutter. He was in front of you in only three quick strides, one hand landing on your hip while the other cupped your face. He bent to connect your lips in a kiss. He could still taste the peppermint from the candy cane you sucked on on the ride home, and the taste of the champagne Penny had broken out at the end of the night for a toast. You didn’t hesitate to wrap your arms around him and return the kiss, both of you getting so lost in it that by the time he pulled away, he was panting.

“You must really like the cheap decor,” you breathed, and Bradley huffed out a laugh at your joke. 

“I just really like you,” he quipped, and he enjoyed how a shiver went through your body at his response. 

As you changed into pajamas and settled on the couch together, an idea started forming in his head. He thought he might know just what to do to make this holiday memorable for you after all. 

_____

“Are you sure you don’t mind me running out for a bit?” you asked for what was probably the tenth time as you slid your sweater on over your head. Bradley groaned to himself as your body was covered from his view as he lounged in bed. He had been watching you get ready, enjoying not for the first time how getting dressed was almost always the last step in your process. 

“I’m positive,” he said, also for the tenth time. You gave him a dubious look and he couldn’t help but laugh. “Pumpkin, I promise it’s okay.” 

“I know, but it’s our first Christmas Eve together!” 

Bradley moved so he was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding his arms open. You stepped between his spread legs and let your hands rest on his shoulders as he looked up at you, squeezing your sides through your red sweater. “Technically, it’s Christmas Eve morning. And I think you getting brunch with Nat and Coyote’s wife will be nice for you. You’ve been so busy with work and the move that you haven’t really had time to make friends.” 

“I was already friends with Nat.” 

He rolled his eyes at you fondly. “You know what I mean.” 

You sighed again, fingers playing with the hair on the back of his head in the way that always calmed him down, even when he wasn’t feeling stressed out. He thought maybe the motion soothed you, too. “I think it’ll be fun.” 

“Yeah,” you admitted slowly, nodding hesitantly. “I do too.” 

“Then go. Have fun. I’ll be here when you get back, and we’ll spend Christmas Eve together. The morning doesn’t count.” 

You snorted, but nodded nonetheless. He accepted the kiss you gave him right as your phone started ringing from the bedside table. Nat was there to pick you up, just like he had requested her to when he asked for her help with pulling off this surprise by getting you out of the apartment for a few hours today. 

He gave it ten minutes after you had left before he jumped up and started taking down all of the decorations you had strewn throughout the apartment. It was easy work considering how small the place was, only taking him a few trips to and from the Bronco. He grabbed the small tree last, carrying it delicately so that none of the ornaments fell off and wouldn’t have to be reconstructed. 

It didn’t take too long to get to the house at the end of the cul de sac that was now in both of your names, traffic light despite the holiday. He let himself in with the key that was still shiny with how new it was. He let out a sigh of relief when he flipped the switch and the overhead light in the living room actually turned on - with everything that had gone on, he wouldn’t have been all that surprised if it hadn’t. He made quick work of bringing in everything from the car, including the items that he had purchased and kept in the trunk without you seeing them this week. 

He knew he had limited time, as Nat could only commit to a few hours of keeping you distracted, but it would be more than enough with what he needed to do. His phone buzzed right as he was finishing up a little more than an hour later, your name flashing up at him.

Pumpkin🧡: Getting the check! Back soon❤️

He sent back a response telling you he’d see you soon, quickly finishing up. He locked the door behind him and jogged to the Bronco parked in the driveway, and he was only back at the apartment for less than 10 minutes when you walked in the door with a large smile on your face that quickly morphed into horrified confusion.  

“What happened to our decorations?”

“Hey, Pumpkin. How was brunch?” 

“Were we robbed?”

Bradley barked out a laugh, shaking his head at your wide eyes. “Of our dollar tree Christmas decorations?”

You just gestured wildly around the space, devoid of any hint of the holiday cheer that had existed in its space earlier in the day. He laughed again, closing the distance to where you stood at the still open front door. He reached around you to push it closed before pulling you into him. He kissed your forehead, your nose, and then finally your lips, pursued in an adorable pout. “We weren’t robbed,” he assured you. “But I do have a present for you. Go get changed.” 

“What?” 

He squeezed your hips, smiling warmly. “Trust me?” 

You eyed him closely for a moment before your pout eventually settled into a soft grin, and you let out a long sigh before you nodded. “Always.” 

He kissed you again, a little deeper this time, but pulled away before he could get totally lost in it. “Pajamas are on the bed.”

“Pajamas? It’s 2pm!” 

He only chuckled in response, playfully smacking your butt when you started walking back toward the bedroom. “Trust me.” 

You got even more suspicious when you emerged from the bedroom and saw that he had Florry in her carrier at the door and had changed into his own pajamas. He twirled his keys around his fingers and then held open the door for you. Once you were in the Bronco, cat meowing at your feet, he held out a red silk piece of cloth that made your eyebrows shoot up. 

“Seriously? A blindfold?”

“Think of it like a Christmas adventure. Now let me put it on.”

You huffed a breath but he knew you weren't actually mad - you loved surprises, and there was a smile tugging at your lips as you turned to allow him to tie the silk at the back of your head. He kissed your hair when he was done and turned to start the vehicle. 

“You know,” you said casually, just as Bradley was pulling out of the parking lot, “this blindfold might come in handy later. We should make sure the headboard we pick out has appropriate accommodations.” 

He groaned at the implication, a flush creeping up his neck on instinct. You giggled happily, knowing the effect you had on him. He rested a hand on your thigh as he drove, yours covering his in a familiar move. The feeling of your ring on his skin was one he had grown to love in the last few months since you’ve gotten married. 

You threw out guesses the entire drive over, each one more extravagant and ludicrous than the one before. By the time he pulled into the driveway that one day will be an everyday occurrence, he was grinning so hard that his cheeks were starting to hurt. 

“Don’t move,” he said when he saw you reach for the door handle. He jogged around the Bronco to the passenger side, opening your door. He helped you down before reaching back in for Florry’s carrier, pressing it into your hands so you could carry her, while he focused on you. 

"Alright, Pumpkin," he whispered, his voice laced with eagerness. "Keep your blindfold on, and I'll guide you." His hand tightened around yours as he led you out of the car and towards the front door of your new home. Excitement coursed through him as he thought about your reaction, and he loved that he knew instinctively that it would be positive. 

He loved that he knew you so well. 

“Stay here just a second,” he instructed once he got you through the door. He moved away from you to quickly plug everything in, coming back to you once the room was cast both in the sunlight streaming through the windows and the artificial LED lights. 

He stood in front of you, a grin playing on his lips as he watched you fidget with anticipation. Your blindfold was still securely in place, blocking your vision from the surprise he had prepared. You were so damn beautiful, and he would never understand how he got lucky enough to call himself yours. 

"Okay, baby," he said softly.  He gently took the carrier out of your hands, setting it on the floor and letting the cat out to wander the new space that he had cleared of anything that might hurt her, before moving to stand behind you. Your back flush against his front, he moved his hands up your arms in a smooth caress, settling on your shoulders and squeezing in affection. "You can take off the blindfold now."

With trembling hands, you reached up and slipped the silk cloth from your eyes, revealing the scene before you. Gasping in awe, your eyes widened as you took in the sight that unfolded in the living room. 

“Oh my God. Bradley.” 

The room was still very much a construction zone, but he had moved all of the decorations from the apartment, plus a few more that he had gotten, to decorate the barren space. The tree you had bought sat on the floor in the corner. Blankets lined the unfinished floors, as well as humongous cotton puffs to replicate snow. An air mattress covered with bright red sheets and a green blanket was in the middle of the room. Everything looked straight out of a tacky high school Christmas play, but it was so bad that it was almost good - whimsical and unique.

He watched as you took it all in, feeling his heart beating double time in his chest. When you turned to face him, there was a wide smile on your face, and tears shining in your pretty eyes. You didn’t have to ask for him to know what you were thinking. 

“I wanted our first Christmas together to be in our home, even if it’s not finished yet. I figured we could camp out for the day. You-” The words were knocked out of him as you launched yourself into his arms. He held you for a long moment, pressing a kiss into your hair as your laughter settled. “You deserve something special, Pumpkin,” he finally finished, voice softer than it had been. 

You pulled back just far enough to meet his eyes, your hands cupping his face. “All I need is you, baby. You know that?” 

He turned his head just slightly to press a kiss into your palm, nodding once. “I do.” A smirk twitched at his lips, his mustache twitching with the expression. “Does that mean you want me to pack all this up and return your gifts, too?” 

The gasp you let out was damn near scandalized. "Oh, no you don't!" you playfully swatted at his chest. You motioned toward the tacky decorations with a mischievous grin. "We can't let these go to waste. It's our first Christmas, after all."

Bradley chuckled, arms secure around you.  "It sure is," he whispered, his voice filled with affection. He leaned down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, the taste of anticipation lingering. 

“Besides,” you murmured quietly, your eyes sparkling with a familiar look that had him warming from the inside out. “This gives us a jump start on christening the place. That air mattress looks mighty comfortable.” 

Desire flared through him, and he wasted no time in scooping you up in his arms, carrying you bridal-style towards the makeshift bed. Your laughter echoed in the space as he laid you down. 

“You know I’m gonna make you pack all of this back up and put it back up in the apartment until at least New Years, right?” you asked him, slightly breathless as he moved his kisses from your lips down to your neck, nipping at the skin. 

Bradley chuckled, his hands pushing your shirt up, revealing soft skin that he loved to touch. “Oh, of that I have no doubt.” 

Later, you lay nestled together underneath the green blanket, the crackling sound of a virtual fireplace playing from his laptop on the floor beside you while Christmas music played lightly from your phone. You were basking in the glow of the makeshift display as your breathing calmed. You pressed a kiss to his chest, right over his beating heart. He was sure that it skipped a beat at the gesture, but if you noticed, you didn’t comment on it. 

“I can’t wait until we’re in here for good,” you whispered instead. 

He hummed in response, tracing lazy patterns on your bare back. “Me too.” 

You snorted after another moment, propping your head up to meet his eyes. “Hell of a first memory to make here, don’t you think?” 

Bradley laughed lightly, a contented smile spreading across his face. It certainly was, in all of the best ways. “I’ll remember this forever,” he said, voice filled with warmth and conviction, because he couldn’t fathom ever forgetting any moment with you, especially something as perfect as this. 

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

Main Masterlist :: The Forgotten Moments Masterlist

Notes: It's been far too long since I wrote anything for these two. I hope you enjoyed it! Likes/comments/reblogs are always appreciated if you did🧡

Thanks to @roosterforme and @mak-32 for all their help!

Tag List: @roosterforme @mak-32 @wildxwidow @gretagerwigsmuse @lilyevanswhore @too-fangirl-to-fuction @fav-fanficssss @notroosterbradshaw @teacupsandtopgun @sometimesanalice @sunflowersteves @littlezee80 @je-suis-prest-rachel @khaylin27 @infamous-reindeer @yanna-banana @avengersfan25 @wkndwlff @sylviebell @lt-spork @indynerdgirl

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@greatszu @na-ta-sh-aa @callsign-magnolia @chaoticassidy @thedroneranger @cherrycola27

[glossgojo]

prince treatment

bradley “rooster” bradshaw x AFAB reader | 5.7k words

summary: you’re hell-bent on treating bradley like a prince after the events of top gun maverick, but you’re still his princess…

cw: 18+ MDNI, no seriously p0rn with some plot, fluff, fingering, big rooster c0ck (hehe), blowjobs, shower head, oral fem receiving, pussy drunk bradley, AFAB reader, p in v sex, MATING PRESS, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, possessive bradley, use of “girl” as a pet name, pet names, some degradation towards the end, breeding <3, cervix fucking, i went a lil feral with this one

as soon as you got the call that the mission was over you were hauling ass in bradley’s baby blue bronco. you’d been staying at his place while he was on the mission, keeping it clean and waiting for him to return. you hadn’t even thought to change out of one of his baggy army shirts and instead slipped on biker shorts and sped to the base. phoenix had called and told you that Mav and bradley were resting up in the infirmary but they were okay, she also told you how hangman had helped, knowing you were not fond of the blonde pilot. you choked back a sob as you thanked her letting you know and rushed to get there.

both of the pilots were asleep and you made out bradley’s expression in the dim light of the room. he didn’t look injured but you didn’t hazard touching him, only placing a kiss to his scarred cheek. even in his slumber, he was the most handsome man you’d ever known and your heart swelled knowing he was peacefully asleep in front of you. you tried your best to stay awake in the chair next to the hospital bed but ultimately your eyes shut as you fell asleep to the sound of your boyfriend’s breathing.

bradley woke up to see you curled up, in a position that hardly looked comfortable, in one of his shirts. at first he thought he was dreaming, the sunlight shining down on your hair made you look like an angel. it wasn’t until he heard your soft exhale that he realized he was very much awake and the love of his life was here. you had only been dating two months but bradley had known the first night you were it for him. you talked like you had known each other your entire lives and bradley felt like you were always within him. like you were a bone he just discovered could be broken and healed within the span of a night. you had looked at him like he put the damn stars in the sky but bradley was convinced for the better part of your early days that you were too good to be true. you were so kind to him, so loving it didn’t make sense. it still didn’t make sense, but he let himself be selfish, let himself be cared for. he watched the way his shirt dipped off your shoulder, how the material swallowed you whole and how damn good it felt knowing his girl was dressed in his clothes.

you stirred as bradley moved off the bed, sitting up and pulling on his boots. you always were a light sleeper, waking up to kiss him goodbye every morning no matter how early. your body unfurled, you clutched your neck as you stretched it, sore from its craned position. when your eyes fluttered open you took in your boyfriend staring at you lovingly as he sat across from you. you instantly sat up, your feet moving towards him.

“morning sweetheart.” you didn’t respond, just threw your arms around his neck. you’d missed his voice, it had only been a few weeks but you were terrified the entire time. you didn’t realize you were crying until his strong arms pulled you a little closer when tears wet his back. “hey, it’s okay i’m here.” he rubbed your back, rubbing his nose against the length of your neck, inhaling your scent. you smelled mostly of him, his shirt attributing to that, but there was still a hint of that warm floral smell that he could never get enough of. when your tears seemed to subside you pulled back to look at him, you had missed his eyes.

“hey handsome.” you said, your voice a little groggy still but he laughed nevertheless, and you were content with the smile on his face. you wanted to see him happy all the time, you wanted to care for him, he had been through so much not just in the mission but the past few months. “let’s go home.” home, bradley liked the way you said that about his place. you had only been there a couple times since you started dating, he usually stayed at your place but it seemed you had gotten comfortable at his apartment. the thought alone made the blood rush in his veins.

bradley threw his arm over your shoulder, you tucked into his side and pressed a kiss to his hand since you couldn’t reach his face without some tiptoeing. bradley thought you might just be the sweetest girl in the entire world. in the hallway outside the room you saw hangman sitting down and waiting, you couldn’t believe it but you remembered what phoenix said. he stood up and clapped a hand over bradley’s shoulder, they nodded at each other a whole conversation taking place in silence. you weren’t so adept in whatever that was so instead you just hugged him, bradley letting you go for a moment. you thanked him as you did it, and hangman let out a breath it felt he was holding for a while. you turn back towards bradley, seeing the small smile on his face.

“i know you would’ve killed me, and probably mav if anything happened to him,” jake joked, clearly uncomfortable with being appreciated, and you let him return back to his norm. you knew that in his own way, jake cared about rooster and mav and all the other pilots. he’d just never admit to it.

“you know me so well.” you looked up to bradley who had been watching you throughout the whole conversation. he was struck by how protective you were of him, the fact that you’d fight for him was enough to make his heart beat out of his chest. how had he never noticed this before? you were always barking back at hangman, or telling maverick off. he just never pieced together that it was all for him. he was a fool.

your voice shook him out of his thoughts as you bid your goodbyes to hangman and made your way to the parking lot. bradley could spot his car from a mile away but his eyes were on you. you pushed away from his hold, dangling the keys in front of his face. “i’m driving, you need to rest.” bradley couldn’t protest when you looked like a vision leaning back against the truck bed. he nodded, stepping towards you his hips against yours as he had you pressed against the truck. his arms circled your waist and yours circled his neck, one hand raking through his hair. bradley had to stop himself from groaning at the feeling of your nails scraping his scalp.

“i missed you so much, bradley, i’m so glad you’re safe. you’re a hero, you know that?” the adoration in your eyes was too much for him, bradley thought he might just prove how much he loves you in the bed of his truck, but you didn’t deserve that he wanted to tell you slowly, show you over and over again until you could only think that one thought, bradley loves you.

“i missed you too, before hangman radioed all i could think about was how much i wanted to come home to you.” you didn’t want to cry again, but you could feel tears pricking your eyes. you looked down, head hanging low as you realized what he was saying. when he was scared for his life, he was thinking about you.

“look at me, let me see those pretty eyes.” he nudged your head up, his hand cupping your jaw as he lightly pinched your chin. finally you gave in, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. he watched you blink, wiped the tears that strayed and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“bradley, you can’t-fuck i can’t lose you.” bradley knew that you loved him, you’d already made it clear in your actions and now even though he could his reflection in your eyes he could still see that raw desperation and need that he recognized so well. you were just waiting for him, waiting for him to accept the love.

“you won’t.” he promised it with a kiss to your lips, letting you pull him closer, his half hard dick pressed against your stomach and you gasped, giving him an opening. his tongue traced the seam of your lips before delving deeper and tasting you. you kissed him back just as fervently, desperate for him. you pulled back for air first, bradley still pressing kisses to your mouth as you struggled for air. it was then that you realized you were still on the base. you reminded bradley of the fact and pushed him off, you had plans to cook him dinner and curl up in bed, it was high time to head home. bradley, reluctantly moved away from you pressing one last kiss to your lips before moving to the passenger door. you wished your boyfriend wasn’t so irresistible the taste of his lips lingered and you wanted so much more, but you could be patient.

you stuck the keys in and drove off towards bradley’s place and bradley couldn’t help but notice how good you looked driving his car. his shirt still hanging off your shoulders, his. you were his and the thought alone made his hand inch towards your thigh.

“hey that’s my move! you’re the passenger remember.” you pouted, shooting him a playful glare at a red light.

“i beat you to it, not my fault you look so pretty driving my car.” your heart skipped a beat as his hand inched higher, his voice dripping with want. you couldn’t look at him, you knew you’d lose all focus on your goals at home.

“i like taking care of you.” you murmured and bradley didn’t miss it. he couldn’t help but moved his hand higher, long fingers curling under the waistband of your shorts and finally you looked at him. your flushed cheeks and wide eyes drove bradley a little crazier. you didn’t stop him as his fingers grazed your flesh, a whine crawling up your throat. you looked back at the road, driving as well as you could as his thick fingers grazed your clit. his fingers dipped further, stopping as he felt just how wet you were. you squirmed and he huffed out a laugh as he collected your slick, his fingers coated in it. one of his thick fingers slipped into your heat and you bit your bottom lip to hold in the moan, he slid in easily all your arousal easing his movement. his finger curled and found the spot he was well familiar with, making you clench around him.

“so tight baby, ease up.” bradley couldn’t believe just how easily worked up you were, maybe you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you. your arousal probably soaked through your shorts, he should’ve known. he watched as you abused your bottom lip, plump and raw from your teeth. he wanted to hear your pretty noises but he could wait. just as you felt yourself grow close, he slipped his finger out, grazing your clit making you tense, as his hand left your shorts. you couldn’t help but steal a glance at him as he licked your essence off his fingers, looking at you hungrily. the eye contact and the lewd sound of him slurping made you clench again, wanting to be home so badly.

“you taste like heaven sweetheart, can never have enough.” his words alone made you sure you had wet his leather seats. this was the longest drive home ever.

finally after feeling bradley’s eyes on you the remaining drive home you pulled into the driveway. bradley made his way to your door before you had finished collecting your things and opened it for you, you blushed as you looked up at him. it was only minutes ago that the same hand holding the door open was touching you. you made your way inside bradley’s house, setting your stuff down and bradley kicked his shoes off. his place looked the same. there were only a few changes, it smelled like coffee and there was a bouquet on his dining table. it looked fresh, like you’d gotten it just before he came home. was it for him? no surely it was just coincidence.

“it smells so good in here what did you do?” you smiled at him, interlocking your hands as you crossed the space to the dining table. it’s not like it smelled bad before but it was just apartment smells, like pinesol and faint hints of his cologne.

“i just brought some of my candles over. these are for you, i was too frazzled to bring them so i popped them in a vase.” you motioned to the bouquet of peach roses and babies breath. bradley was stunned by you once again. he didn’t know what else to do but pick you up by your waist and pull you into him.

“i don’t deserve you.” he kept his arms wrapped around, his head nuzzling into your neck as you ran your hands through his hair. your bradley was home and you wanted him to know just how much you appreciated him, how much you loved him.

“yes you do, we deserve each other. you’re a hero roo.” you press a kiss to his head, he’s filled with emotion you can hear it in his voice and you’re no better, you’d do anything for him and you hope he knows it. finally bradley let’s you go from his grip, placing you down carefully, pressing a kiss to your fingers that are still interlocked with his own. you feel your heart flutter, set alight by his gentle adoration of you.

“i wanted to cook for you, are you hungry right now or do you wanna wait?” bradley doesn’t know how much a man can take, you’re too good to be true. he nods dumbly watching you saunter into his kitchen, watching you as he takes a seat at the island.

“let’s eat baby.” you shoot him a smile, you had already started getting ingredients out. you knew bradley, he’d eat if there was food offered. bradley felt for the second time like he’d woken up in dream. you moved around his kitchen like you knew it like the back of your hand, and maybe you did but something about you here in his kitchen, wearing his shirt after driving his car home made bradley painfully strain in his pants. you were cooking for him, taking care of him and you looked so damn good doing it. his eyes never left your body as you moved, eyeing you up and down. when you turned towards him he realized you’d said something to him. you held back a laugh as his eyes trailed from your legs to your face. “hmm?”

“i was just saying that kristine at work is getting married, she invited us.” bradley responded to you, and tried to keep himself from getting distracted by you. you decided to be a bit mean by bending down to grab a pot, you could’ve easily grabbed a different one but where was the fun in that? bradley barely finished his sentence as he watched his shirt ride up and show off your ass. he would have to buy you more of those biker shorts, they left nothing to the imagination. you couldn’t help but laugh this time, turning around to look him squarely in the eyes. “cat got your tongue?”

“you’re killing me baby.” he groaned, getting up and coming around the counter to stand in front of you. you could see his bulge as soon as he stood, your cheeks flushing but you kept your bravado all the same. his hands came to your waist, finding their home easily and you placed your hands on his annoyingly firm chest.

“we’re having dinner bradshaw no funny business, take a cold shower.” you teased, bradley groaned and pouted. he probably did need a cold shower, but parting with you was not an option in his mind

“come with me?” you wish you could be the bigger person, not give into the feeling in your stomach you’d been ignoring since you saw him when you woke up, but as he wet his lips and looked at you with his big hazel eyes your resolve dissolved.

you nodded, letting him clasp his hand around your wrist and pull you away. “wait! let me put the lasagna soup on simmer!” you had enough time to shower and be back to finish off dinner, bradley waited like an impatient puppy as you moved the pot, his hands back on your waist, his chest against your back. you could feel his hard-on and you bit your lip to stop yourself from brushing back on him. bradley didn’t think any amount of cold showers would help him scratch the itch that you had implanted within him, all it took was seeing you walking around his house like it was yours too to make him lose his mind.

you followed bradley to his room, grabbing a pair of pajamas which was quickly replaced by one of his army shirts and underwear. bradley watched you strip in the bathroom, his eyes not leaving your bare frame as he turned on the shower. you giggled as you watched his cheeks redden and you felt particularly evil as you pressed up against him and lifted the hem of his shirt up, urging him to take it off. bradley looked down at you, your hardened nipples pressing against his chest and he didn’t know if you were trying to kill him but his heart was

beating out of his chest. you counted down in your mind, 30 minutes to shower, you could do a lot in that time. maybe you’d let bradley work up an appetite.

he pulled off his shirt, his pants next and boxers. you stepped into the shower, beckoning to follow. you pressed at his shoulders to sit down on the bench within his shower, wanting to wash his hair. bradley’s mouth was slightly agape as he let you do as you pleased. you lathered your fingers with shampoo, tilting his head back, and got to work. he could feel your nails scrape against his scalp lightly, your fingers working in the shampoo and making sure to keep the shampoo out of his eyes. his breathing was only quickening as he watched you adamantly take care of you. he couldn’t remember the last time someone took care of him like this, well he could but it hurt to think of. he’d only known you a few months but the way you looked at him, the way you cared for him made him want to propose to you right now. overcome with emotion and a guttural need to make you feel his love, he pressed a kiss to your arm, drawing your eyes to his. you looked at him curiously, clearly so focused on his hair that you didn’t notice his growing emotions. you pressed a kiss to his lips before moving out of the way and grabbing the shower head to wash out the shampoo, your fingers wracking through his hair and making sure it was all washed out.

“can i get up now?” he said as he watched you grab the body wash. you placed the shower head back and turned back to him

“hmm? oh no, you’re getting special services lieutenant bradshaw.” you squeezed some body wash on your hands and bradley’s brain short-circuited. he could take your hands on his head, but your soft small hands on his body would surely end him. he quickly stood up and grabbed you by the waist to push you down.

“you know this could be classified as torture, pretty girl.” you were now in eye-line with his red throbbing member, unable to ignore just how desperate it looked for attention. you swallowed down before looking up at your boyfriend. you lathered the body wash on your breasts, looking up at him innocently as you pushed them together and a small groan left his lips. after your little show you leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the tip of his cock. bradley was big everywhere so unsurprisingly you had a hard time taking all of him into your mouth. you had been successful a couple times, with his help. bradley shuddered at the feeling of your soft lips against him. he clenched his fists as to not pull you onto him. your hands went around his hips and pulled him closer, he was standing between your spread legs and you moved closer on the bench, to get as close as possible. you brought your hands to rest on his thighs as you licked a stripe up his length, feeling his veins pressed against your tongue, pressing another sweet kiss to his tip, making him twitch against your mouth.

“mm roo, can you fuck my mouth?” you looked up at him sweetly and bradley swore he could’ve came just from the sight alone, but he quickly realized he’d rather do that down your throat. without a second of hesitation he grabbed your hair into a ponytail and pried your mouth open with his other hand, slowly sliding his heavy cock in until you adjusted. you felt his tip brush against your throat, struggling to breath as you felt like you were choking on him. your jaw ached as you adjusted to his girth and your tears stung from the intrusion, you could feel his veins against your tongue and the hair at the base of his shaft tickled your nose as you struggled to breath. after a few moments as you regained your breath you tapped on his thigh, signaling for him to move and then bradley snapped out of you and fucked your throat, filling you even deeper than before. he was brutal as he set the pace, you moaned and gagged on him, spit and cum collecting around your mouth and dribbling down your chin as the shower head sprayed down his back and left you feeling filthy. tears were streaming down your face and you dug your nails into his thigh. bradley was close, you could feel him twitching down your throat and his grip loosening, you forced yourself all the way down his length, making it hard to breathe as he filled your throat with his cum. you gagged as it kept coming out, more and more and he pulled you off, the remainder painting your mouth and face white. you wiped it off with your hand and brought it back to your mouth to swallow and bradley thought he might need another round right away. he pulled you up on your shaky legs and pressed a kiss to your lips, tasting himself there. you felt so warm from making him cum, making your bradley feel good. he washed you then, returning the favor from earlier. after showering he dried you off and you did the same for him, letting your hands trail on his abs a little longer than intended. bradley gave you a warning sign and you looked at him with false confusion.

dinner went by quickly after that, both of you having worked up an appetite. “that tasted damn good darlin’” he wiped his mouth and you clenched your legs together where they were crossed. seeing him eat always made you a little needy.

“glad you liked it roo,” you watched as he carried both of your plates to the sink and cleared the table, sticking the dishes in the dishwasher after rinsing them off. your hungry eyes never left his, the kitchen light reflecting off his dog tags, making your head spin.

“my baby’s treating me so well, i would kill for some desert though.” he stood in front of you, pulling you gently to stand and you watched him curiously. he hauled you up, your hands immediately going around his neck and your legs around his waist. before you could ask what he was doing he set you down on the dinner table, kneeling in front of you. his large hands rested on either knee, looking at you silently for permission. you groaned as you looked at his hungry expression, nodding weakly as you felt your arms shake from holding your body up. when his hands parted your legs and pulled down your underwear you fell back, losing any control over your body that you had. “been dying to taste you again, my sweet sweet girl.” he pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh, murmuring sweet nothings to your core and you wanted to press your legs together to release some of the tension but his strong grip kept you in place. “patience doll.” you whined at his slow kisses between your thighs, never quite where you needed him. you felt so hot and you were sure you were about to drip onto your wooden table if he didn’t touch you soon.

“please roo, i-i can’t.” another whine crawled up your throat as he pressed a kiss to your clit, his mustache grazing your soft skin.

“you can, you’ve been so good all day right? you can be good now.” your hands went to his hair, tugged at the strands there, he just laughed at your attempts to get him where you wanted him. finally after what felt like hours, he pressed a thick finger against your entrance feeling just how wet you were. he felt his dick twitch in his pants at how easily you could take his finger in, so wet and ready for him. he brought the finger to his lips, reminding you of earlier today as he swirled his tongue around it, humming at the taste of you. without warning he pulled you towards his face, your bare ass sliding against the wood as he licked a stripe down your core. bradley felt dizzy at the taste of you, you were so fucking wet, all for him, all because of him. the thought and the addictive taste of you, caused him to dive his tongue into your soppy hole. you whined out his name at the feeling of his tongue moving inside you, scraping your walls, making you gush onto his tongue. the sounds of his tongue fucking you and your whines filled the room. his left hand moved from where it pushed at your thigh to instead thumbing at your clit. you tugged at his hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer and he hummed at the sting, using his other hand to slip a finger into your hole, both his tongue and finger relentless in drawing out more of your ichor. you clenched and he pushed another finger in, removing his tongue entirely and moving to suck your clit as his thick fingers found the spot that made you scream his name. “brad-please i’m so close”

“give it to me pretty girl,” he curled his fingers up, his tongue going back to your hole to catch any of your slick before it plopped on the table, his fingers and mouth driving you to your orgasm and fucking your through it. you were jerking in his hold as he removed his fingers and replaced them with his tongue, not letting any of your release go to waste.

“roo, too much.” you whined as you weakly pushed at his shoulders, the overstimulation becoming too much to bare. he pulled back and you leaned up to see the lower half of his face and mustache glistening in the light. you sat up, clambering to pull him towards you, wanting to taste yourself on his tongue. bradley smiled as he kissed you sloppily, letting you explore his mouth and you whined at the feeling of his hard-on pressing against your core through his sweatpants. as if you weren’t overstimulated minutes ago, your boyfriend being so turned on from eating you out made your core tighten, “want your dick, want you to fill me up.” you whined into his mouth as he pulled back and pressed a kiss to the tender spot beneath your ear. bradley didn’t speak as he picked you up, his hands under your plush ass as he hauled you to the bedroom.

“can’t just say shit like that baby, you’ll drive me crazy.” he growled into your ear, his hold tightening on your ass and pulling you closer against his hard chest.

“s’true though.” you mumbled as he set you down on the bed, pulling your shirt clean off as to you watched him hungrily stare at your body. he leaned over you then, his hand coming between your legs and your eyes widened as you realized what he was doing. “no please-i can take it please roo, it’ll fit i-“ you were begging, desperation and desire clawing at your sensibility and bradley wished he had photographic memory so he could memorize the look on your face and the whine to your voice. you were so gone for him, but he was no better your taste was still branded on the back of his teeth and yet he wanted more.

“desperate little slut, you’ll regret this you know that right?” bradley rarely spoke to you like that, he didn’t really like it, but he could see you clench on air at his words, could see the way your chest moved a little faster.

“i-i can take it.” and he nodded moving up, plunging deep into you before you started begging again. the stretch stole the air from your lungs and the feeling of his tip kissing your cervix made you tense. but then he was moving slowly out and back in, letting you adjust and the burn gave way to pleasure as you clenched around him and felt your arousal mixed with his make the movement easier. you could feel his heavy thick member shaping your walls to fit him, every vein every ridge imprinting inside you. every slow thrust made him kiss your cervix, a ring of cum collecting at the base of his shaft and your arousal pooling down his balls. you wanted more, wanted to burn, barely wanted to walk tomorrow because of him. you clawed at his back, whining as you begged for more, “harder please please.” bradley gave into your pretty little pleas.

he pulled your legs over his shoulders and tilted towards you, his cock dipping into you and hitting a new angle that made his go deeper and strecth you out even more. he watched your eyes roll to the back of your head as he lifted up and pounded down into you, and then again and then until he was pounding you so hard and fast that your head was banging against the headboard. your mind went numb at the overwhelming pleasure, you dug your nails in to ground yourself as his tip bruised your cervix and he hit the spot that made you babble and cry for more. bradley was fucking you like it was the only chance he had, his hips snapping into yours and your cum dripping down your thighs and his. the room smelled of sex and sounded pornographic. “this pussy is mine, you’re mine.” he growled out and you clenched around him, loving the sound of that. you had been his since the moment you met.

“i’m yours.” you gasped between thrusts, his mouth trailing hot kisses down your neck, biting and sucking at the skin there. you cried out as he pulled back to look down at you, his hand cradling your jaw and then he slipped his thumb into your mouth and you felt yourself grow close. bradley was filling you up and now his fingers were in your mouth, keeping you stuffed. you slobbered around them sucking and whining as the moved down your throat, fucking you there too. all you could think about was him filling you up.

“need your cum,” you managed as you pulled his fingers out, saliva trailing behind and connecting to your lips. bradley almost came at yours words alone, he pulled his drenched fingers and flicked your clit, massaging it slowly in contrast to his brutal pace. you were sure your cunt would be bruised if that was possible.

“gonna fill you up, watch you walk around my house. in my clothes. drive my car with my kid inside you. you’re fucking mine forever.” he babbled, angling himself until he was kissing your cervix with each thrust, punctuating his words and then finally his resolve snapped. he dipped his hips to connect to yours one last time before he was filling you up, his cum overflowing from your small cunt. you gasped and cried at the feeling coming with him and seeing white as you arched up into him, clawing down his back and leaving red marks in your wake.

you felt so warm and when he pulled out you whined at the feeling of his cum gushing out, threatening to run down your thighs. but bradley was quicker, he was fucking it back into you, making sure it stayed in there. you clenched at the feeling and cried out his name. you knew you were on birth control, bradley knew it too but the way he fucked you like he wanted to breed you made your head spin. bradley pulled you on top of him as he moved to lay next to you on his back, enjoying the weight of your body on his. “for the record, you’re mine forever too.” although it wasn’t i love you it was damn near close and the way bradley fucked you, you weren’t sure those words were needed any more.

[heartsofminds]

and the songbirds are singing like they know the score - part i.

"If Bradley squints his eyes, he can still make out the little five-year-old that he once knew who thought that he put the stars in the sky and cried when she found out that Jake’s real name wasn’t Hangman." or Quincy Bradshaw is growing up and no one knows what to do about it; especially Bradley.

a/n: in light of father's day, enjoy part one to bradley's precocious daughter making a re-appearance and jake seresin being reasonable for once. part two will be posted soon! the angst will be resolved, don't you worry!

It happens in between the end credits and the black fade-out screen. 

The piercing sound of the phone ringing snaps you and your husband out of your near comatose states on the couch, seemingly entranced by Molly Ringwald’s whining (which only she can get away with because she’s fucking Molly Ringwald, of course) for the entirety of Sixteen Candles. 

“Holy shit,” Bradley swallows, leaning up to sit entirely straight. His movements jostle you, causing you to wince at your cheek unsticking from its glued spot on his right pec. 

You smack your lips and sigh, trying to wake yourself up. The obnoxiously mechanical sound the phone makes causes your ears a subtle pain, and you silently curse your husband for refusing to remove the landline phone that sits glued to your kitchen wall. 

“It serves a purpose,” he had reasoned. “Don’t kill my dream of having a rotary phone.” 

And the conversation of uninstalling a 1970s landline phone from your new house was lost in the abyss of cardboard boxes and cheerios on the floor from your then beyond spunky and energetic three-year-old daughter. 

So while it sticks out like an eyesore amongst your “lived-in” and perfectly curated home, you often forget it’s there... except on occasions like this when the sporadic ringing shakes your eardrums and tightens the ever-present rubberband around your temples in the worst way possible. 

Bradley sits with his elbows on his knees, almost trying to muster up the strength to deal with the nuisance of the ringing phone. He sits for a second and sighs before hearing your body shift. 

You smush your face into a pillow; the constant ringing making you want to tear your hair out by the second. 

“Bradley!” you whine. He pats the part of your calf uncovered by your shared throw blanket with an unspoken tenderness. 

“Sorry,” he timidly apologizes. 

He stands up; his left knee making an impressive “crack” before swiping his phone off the coffee table on his way to the kitchen. 

You turn the TV off and lie in the complete darkness of your living room. The illumination of the moonlight through the glass windowed door in your kitchen shines its way to the floor in front of your couch. You have half the mind to yell to your husband to close the blinds that line the backdoor before your voice catches in your throat. 

No one ever calls the landline. Very few people even have the phone number for the landline outside of Maverick and a few close family friends. Besides, anyone who needed to reach you had your cell phone numbers anyway. 

So who the actual fuck is calling your landline at 11 PM on a Thursday? 

You hear Bradley yank the phone from its place on the wall and exhale with a huff. After sixteen years of being together, you know that huff is his tell of being annoyed. 

“Hello?” he gruffly answers. His irritation makes the question sound more like a monotonous statement. 

“Bradshaw –” 

Jake Seresin is on the other end of the line. You can recognize his voice from the other room with his cadence even though you’re not on the phone with him. Having “mom ears” does that to a person, you suppose. 

“Why the fuck are you calling my house at 11 PM?” Bradley snaps. 

You’re wondering the same thing, but you’ll have to talk to him about being so rude and huffy. Jake may actually need something, after all. 

“Well, you weren’t answering your fucking cell and neither was your wife so I had to do something.” 

Bradley rolls his eyes and looks back into the darkened living room. He’s been more on edge about you lately. 

“You can’t miss me that fucking much to be spamming my phone with calls,” he sighs and leans his back up against the wall. He notices the open blinds on the back door and walks to close them before he’s yanked back by the phone cord. 

“Don’t cream your pants. I don’t like you that much.” 

Bradley lets out a soft snort in amusement before he remembers that he’s supposed to be annoyed. He opens his mouth to ask Jake what exactly it is that’s so damn important and can’t wait until tomorrow morning when he’s beaten to it. 

“I have Quincy here in the passenger seat and she’s beyond unwell.” 

The statement sends Bradley into panic mode instantly. His voice catches in his throat and he can’t recall a moment he’s had where he’s felt like he’s had to force the breath out of himself like this. 

He lets out something between a huff, a cough, and a wheeze before remembering he can’t make a huge show of himself right now because it’ll also throw you into panic mode. 

“What the fuck do you mean she’s not well? Jake, where the fuck are you?” he whispers into the phone, trying to cover his mouth as much as possible so you can’t even read his lips if you tried. “Is she okay? What’s –” 

It doesn’t take a genius to know that Bradley is panicking. Even Bradley’s beyond intoxicated and passed out seventeen-year-old daughter sitting in the passenger seat of Jake’s truck could piece together that her father is nothing but a raging ball of anxiety at the moment, and Jake is positive that his friend is growing another patch of gray hair as the seconds pass. 

“Oh. . .fuck, I guess I should’ve phrased that better,” Jake admits. His truck comes to a halt at a spotlight and he glances over at his goddaughter. “She’s fine. She’s drunk as shit right now, but I’m on the way to drop her at yours.”

Bradley can feel the obnoxious orange ball of anxiety inside of him shift to a tumultuous rage-induced scarlett. His hand tightens around the phone cord and he has to stop himself before he yanks it out of the wall. He’s gotten angry like this before, but it never was angled toward his daughter. 

Never toward his sweet, precious girl. Never toward his amazing Quincy. 

But she knows the rules (and she chose to break them) and she knows what was told to her (and she snuck out anyway) and she knows that it’s dangerous to be that drunk (but yet she’s passed out in Jake’s truck). 

And if that isn’t both nerve-wracking and frustrating, Bradley doesn’t know what is. 

“Put her on the phone,” he speaks lowly. 

Jake gulps, knowing that he’s in one of those moods. Bradley doesn’t express anger as often as he expresses annoyance, but an angry Bradley is never someone he wants to be around. And from the way that Quincy made it sound when she called him to come get her from some random party in the middle of nowhere thirty-five minutes away from her house at 11 PM on a school night, he knows her ass is being had tomorrow morning by both you and Bradley. 

There’s absolutely no way his goddaughter is coming out of this unscathed. 

“Dude, she’s obliterated right now and I think you talking to her is just gonna make it worse.” 

“And I don’t give a fuck. I said, put her on the fucking phone now.” 

Jake shakes his head and rolls his eyes as Quincy begins to stir next to him in her seat. He’s always been the person she’s called whenever she was in trouble. He always got the first hug whenever she was brought around. He’s always been her source of comfort outside of her parents and he’s never minded it because being around her is easy. 

It was easy to carry her around whenever she asked when she was little. It was easy to give in and let her sit in the cockpit of his grounded aircraft with him and let her play with the buttons when her dad and Papa Mav refused. It was easy to pick her up from school at midday and take her to lunch. It was easy to bring her back gifts from wherever he was deployed and even easier picking them out because she’s a sucker for meaningless trinkets. 

It was easy to be her godfather and she’s a smart and relatively easy kid, but Jake has never been prepared for this part. 

Because doing what’s best for her is hard, and he realizes that when he can feel his friend wanting to put him through a wall over the phone. 

“No,” he speaks and he can hear Bradley let out a small gasp at the denial of his request, “She fucked up bad, Bradley. I’m sure she knows and you can have it out with her tomorrow morning, but right now, she’s not in any place to be screamed at and made to feel worse. You’re her dad and m’not tryin’ to take that away from you –” 

Bradley scoffs, “What exactly do you fuckin’ know about raising kids, Jake? Huh?” 

Jake grimaces and decides to take the brute of Bradley’s anger. Better him than Quincy, he figures. Besides, he knows Bradley doesn’t mean any of it. . . At least he hopes he doesn’t. 

“You obviously can’t be a dad because you just wanna have fun and dick around all the fucking time. Buying them fuckin’ candy and letting them off scott-free doesn’t do shit. You don’t have what it takes to raise a fucking person.” 

Jake doesn’t know why, but part of him gets that prickly feeling in his chest. Usually, every insult rolls off his shoulders into oblivion and he gets off on making people angry and being able to put on the facade that he really couldn’t give a damn if he tried.

But this one hurts because he knows that Bradley is right in some regard. 

He’s a runner and he lets people down. He’s nearing fifty (and God, he never thought he ever would) and has never even bothered to settle down. And he’s made peace with himself a long time ago that he doesn’t deserve a wife or a family or kids because he would never be able to love them more than he loves himself; more than he loves his career. 

To hear one of your closest friends admit that to you openly, to know that someone outside of you sees it too, makes his heart stop momentarily and forces him to feel the ache of the words meant to stab him in the chest. 

“I understand,” he swallows. He knows arguing with Bradley isn’t the right thing to do at the moment and never will be. “I’m still not putting her on the phone. We will be at your house shortly.” 

The line goes dead and Bradley is overcome with a wave of anger that drowns him like a tsunami. He knows what he said was shitty and that he has no right to do that to someone who he considers a close friend, but he just can’t help himself. 

He knows no allies when it comes to his daughter. 

The sound of the plastic phone slamming into its rightful place on the wall alarms you and part of your heart hurts for Jake. 

Jake has no concept of boundaries and has no limit to the absurdities that he often commits, but Jake also has the biggest heart that gets overshadowed by his equally big ego. You know the words uttered to him by your husband have knocked him down in ways Bradley isn’t the slightest bit aware of, and you start to silently cry for him because you know he won’t do it for himself. 

You force yourself up from your deepened spot on the couch and waddle your way to Bradley in the kitchen. The tears streaming down your face only fuel your need to make it right and to stand up for Jake and his quietly hurt feelings. 

You don’t know the full of what happened, but you heard enough to know that no one deserves to be spoken to that way. Bradley is upset (and he seemingly always has this cloud of gloom hanging over his head), but that gives him no right to be so cruel. 

The mama bear feelings are only amplified by the thirty-nine-week bump on your frontside making you tilt forward more than you usually do. Jake is a big boy and you know he can handle himself and that this situation has nothing to do with you, per se, but the lack of kindness surrounding you currently is stuffy, and you’d do anything to break the barrier to actually breathe. 

You try and stifle your cries and wipe your starry eyes before you approach your husband; silently cursing how cold your feet are and longing for the day when you can put your socks back on yourself independently. 

He stands with his hands against the wall and his head drooped between them. It’s a look of defeat; a showcase of hopelessness and frustration mixed into a burly mess of indigo and violets from the moonlight and dark sky peeping into your kitchen windows. Despite the darkness surrounding him, you can see the pink flush on the back of Bradley’s ears that has traveled to the tops of his shoulder blades. 

The anger is rampant and on the verge of explosion. Seeing your sweet Bradley like this is a sight rarer than a double rainbow. Part of you knows you shouldn’t poke the bear, but Bradley knows he shouldn’t speak to people like that. Compromising your morals is something you’ve never let yourself do and being bone tired and thirty-nine weeks pregnant is not going to change that. 

Something’s gotta give, and you decide that it’s going to be you. 

His head pops up the second he senses your presence. He knows that something is off with you after your lack of announcement. His home and heart had been preoccupied by two of the most chatty (and rather heavy-footed) women for the past sixteen and a half years. Silence is not welcomed in abundance in the Bradshaw household.

As if he didn’t have to suck in his sharp breath of frustration seconds prior, he turns to you and opens his arms. The darkness hides your tears and aggravation, but he knows that it stands next to you as an unwelcome visitor. 

Part of you wants to indulge, but an overwhelming portion of you houses irritation that won’t let you bite. 

This night was supposed to be one of peace and tranquility. You’re coming up on week three of rest allocated by your maternity leave and you finally feel like the walls in your house aren’t closing in on you. Bradley’s light load of scheduled hops and paperwork has helped with giving you company earlier in the afternoons before you have to make room for your second daughter. The way that she’s sitting on your bladder and constantly kicking your ribs in the middle of the night throws the hope that she’ll be calm and sweet out of the window and opens the door to the reality that she’ll be a carbon copy of her older sister. 

“What’s wrong?” you grumble, sending Bradley a scowl. You ignore his open arms and head to the fridge. You slam the carton of orange juice down on the counter and swing open the cabinet door to grab yourself a glass. 

Bradley furrows his eyebrows in confusion and lowers his arms in defeat. His feet drag him closer to you subconsciously. The thought that you moved away from him because you wanted space doesn’t cross his mind. 

“Nothing,” he leans his hip against the countertop, eyes scanning the thin stream of juice being poured into the glass. His nose wrinkles as you flash your eyebrows at him. That was always his tell of hiding something. 

He knows you can clock it. He just really doesn’t want to argue right now. 

You take a gulp from your glass while rolling your eyes. “Don’t lie to me. I know it was Jake.” 

“Doesn’t mean something is wrong.” His shoulders slump before he closes the refrigerator door. You had been extra forgetful in this stage of your pregnancy. 

Your lips mouth a reflexive, “Thank you” before you huff. Being lied to was something you never appreciated; especially when you know how bad Bradley is at doing it. Besides, you know that he knows you have heard quite a bit. The pointlessness of his actions starts a kindling of rage in your belly. 

“Well, that’s funny because you’re telling Jake he doesn’t know how to be a parent over the phone?” 

“I didn’t say that.” 

His spine straightens and his cheeks spill a baby pink hue that starts to spread to the tips of his ears. You think he looks just like your daughter even though you can’t see the fullness of his face. Your eyes start to twinkle before you remember that you’re pissed at him. The serious face holds a standstill. 

“Don’t play dumb. Do I need to say the exact words for it to ring a bell? ‘You don’t have what it takes to raise a fuckin’ person.’ Seriously, Bradley? What the fuck is your problem?” 

He winces at the agitation in your voice. Hearing it being said by someone other than him makes him realize how fucked up he was to say it; let alone even think about saying it to someone as dear to him and your family as Jake. Your hands heavily place the glass in the metal bottom of the kitchen sink and your heavy footsteps storm past him back to the living room. 

Bradley reaches out to grab your wrist and spins you to look at him. His hands envelop yours and place them flat on his chest. He sighs before dropping his head as if he was a puppy that had just gotten scolded. 

“You’re right,” his eyes scan your face but refuse to peer into your own, “I have no right to talk to people like that.” 

You let him hold you as your annoyance shifts to a denotation of shocked nerves that leave your heart sprinting like crazy in your chest for air. You’ve always been somewhat easy to work up, but your nerves have been oversensitive as of late. 

Penny and your mother call it your mother’s intuition maturing, but you like to call it a nuisance. Although the first baby you’ll be giving birth to will make her way earthside in a few short weeks, your first baby will always be the chunky eleven-month-old with blotchy pink cheeks and abundant sass you met on Halloween sixteen years ago. 

Bradley’s steady hand rubbing soothing circles on your back does little to help you differentiate the present and the imaginary. You aren’t sure how much time has passed or if his soft caresses continue on your spine, but you’re damn sure of what your gut is telling you. 

Something is wrong. Something is wrong. Something is wrong. 

“Is she okay?” you ask him. 

The words uttered make the world stop turning for the millisecond it took you to speak. 

You know deep in your heart that she’s not okay; that she hasn’t been for a while. Your bright and bubbly baby turned angsty and moody Senior in high school had happened overnight, it seems. What was once excited chatter at the dinner table about school and friends and club soccer and yearbook committee soon became absent, and the sound of silence from a missing spot at the dining table with you and Bradley had become the norm. 

It became extremely noticeable in the last few weeks of her Senior year; calls of truancy being made to your home phone and numerous talks about possible grounding if she didn’t get her act together becoming more and more frequent. 

Her attendance sucks but her grades remain stellar, so the idea of punishing her falls flat on its face whenever it gets brought up. You both have always known how intelligent your daughter is. You just wish she didn’t know it so well to know that you and her father are bluffing. 

And to be totally truthful, preparing for a new and unexpected baby hadn’t been part of the plan. You know that you’re not Quincy’s mother in any sense of the word, but you’re her mom and have been for as long as she can remember. Looking for your face in the school pick-up line and at soccer games and honor roll assemblies had always been her normal, and the fact that she had to share that with something embryonic (as she would call it) that hadn’t even graced real outside world oxygen (again, Quincy vernacular) was not something on her bingo card for her Senior year of high school. 

Your absences from these things, the things that are important to her but she’s far too stubborn to admit how much they actually mean out loud, were felt this year. She was raised understanding and kind but has inherited the sensitivity of her father’s heart. You know how much this entire pregnancy has deeply hurt her, and the guilt swallows you whole. 

The abyss of her unverbalized pain looms like a fog in every corner of your mind. Guilt has a funny way of turning all emotions into its twin. 

“I mean, yes? But she’s in for it once she steps foot in this house,” he grumbles. The meteoric thumping of his heart in his chest soothes you, but you know that the adrenaline pumping through his veins to move the muscle at lightning speed is sourced in anger. 

“So she called Jake?” 

Bradley scoffs. Your face is buried in his chest, but you know his huff of annoyance was accompanied by an eye roll. 

“Tried to use him as her ‘get out of jail free’ card. Knows that shit doesn’t work so I don’t even know why she did that.” 

You stifle a laugh and pull back to look at him. “I’m sorry I was so mean earlier. Didn’t mean it,” you whisper and he grins. Apologies have never been your strong suit. He would argue that you’re more stubborn than your daughter and Maverick in that regard.

“I’m sorry I was such a dick. Know you don’t like when I get like that.” 

There’s no need for acceptance. You have him wholeheartedly the same way he has you. Verbally accepting each other’s apologies has long been a thing of the past; especially when you feel like you share each other in ways that no one else on Earth would be able to understand; two halves of a whole – husband and wife. 

Your hand lightly taps his chest before you scoot past him to return back to the living room. From the digital numbers of the oven light in the kitchen, you know that it’s nearing midnight. You and Bradley had never been “good sleepers” (and now that you’re thinking about it, neither is Quincy), but you figure that you should get as much sleep as you’re still allowed. God knows that the new baby will be all Bradshaw and will probably be the worst sleeper too. 

Bradley hears your heavy footsteps trudge up to the bedroom and the soft suction of the door frame signifying that you’re about to lay down for the night. He wants nothing more than to join you and revel in the peace; remind himself to breathe and of simpler times when it was just you and him, but it had never just been you and him because it was always you and him and Quincy. 

The ache in his stomach returns at the thought. He has to put himself back in the mindset to put his foot down and let his daughter know that what she had done was incredibly unacceptable. 

It’s not like he’s mad at her for choosing to act her age for once. 

He had always worried himself sick after parent-teacher conferences because all of her teachers would comment on how mature his daughter was, but how that maturity often caused her to isolate herself. She had always been bright but at the expense of never wanting to play imaginary games with her classmates because she didn’t see the point in “pretending.” He had always thought that it was his fault; that exposing your baby to the History Channel and retired veteran chatter at the bar during the day made her not like other kids. 

And it’s not like he wanted her to be a certain way or that he was scared of her being “weird” or that she wasn’t living up the the expectation of what he thought having a kid would be like. 

Bradley had just wanted her to be kind and to feel loved, and he knows from experience that it’s hard living life when you don’t feel like the former nor do you ever feel the support from the latter. He knows a life of isolation and a sharp tongue that spears a bleeding heart. The last thing he ever wanted was for his daughter to know the same. 

Nevertheless, he’s still angry. Angry? Enraged? Pissed? 

Disappointed. 

Bradley had seen the signs as much as you have of your daughter’s downward spiral through the duration of the school year. He ignored the phone calls of truancy and let them go to voicemail and held his breath and his tongue when she answered a question he asked her a little too harshly. He ignored the attitude and the slamming of doors and the glow of her bedside lamp being on well past 2 AM most nights. 

Bradley ignored all of it because confronting it and her made it real, and facing the reality that she’s growing up and will no longer need him is something that he will never be prepared to do. 

He takes deep breaths and grabs his water bottle off the counter, unscrewing the top and taking colossal sips. His therapist had given him a printed list of techniques years ago to help him manage his anxiety. If he can’t control the speed of Jake’s truck driving down the interstate to his house, he can control the pace of the icy chugs sliding down his throat. 

Bradley wipes his mouth with the back of his arm and places the metal water bottle down on the counter. He paces back and forth before he realizes that pacing always makes him more anxious. His feet carry him back to the living room where he sits on the edge of the couch and balances his elbows on the tops of his thighs. 

All that can be heard is the subtle tick of the large wall clock hanging above the mantle and the soft buzz of cicadas in the backyard. The silence is cut in half by blinding headlights beaming their way through the curtains that line the front window and the roar of an engine. 

He doesn’t jump up to unlock the door like he usually would. His thoughts are still maniacally bouncing around his skull like a ten-cent bouncy ball. Besides, he doesn’t even know if he dares to face Jake after he had spoken so horribly to him such a short time ago. 

The old Bradley, the one who was still hurting and lonely with no wife or kids or family, wouldn’t have given a damn. Fuck Jake and fuck everyone else. 

But this Bradley, the one who is a dad and a husband and a friend and a son, gives a damn and he gives such a big one that he feels nauseous. 

The headlights flick off and the engine is killed. The silence that resumes is so instantaneous that he can almost fool himself into believing that everything is normal. That his daughter is upstairs fast asleep in her room and that her godfather is fifteen minutes away at his own house. He prays Jake won’t knock on the door and disturb it again. Jake never knocked on the door anyway, so he might luck out, he figures. 

But Bradley underestimates how nervous Jake is about this whole thing and soon enough, the sound of his friend’s knuckles rapping on the dark green wood that is the entity of his front door. 

He holds his breath as he opens it. 

He sees Jake, twenty years older than when they finally put their past behind them and became friends, and then he sees his daughter, meek and saddened and slightly drunk. 

If Bradley squints his eyes, he can still make out the little five-year-old that he once knew who thought that he put the stars in the sky and cried when she found out that Jake’s real name wasn’t Hangman. 

The Leemoore sweatshirt she has on is three sizes too big and does little to make her look like a high school partygoer, so he knows she has a riskier top beneath it. There’s no doubt Jake probably made a pit stop at his house to give it to her before bringing her home. 

Jake knows that Bradley hates secrets, so her sneaking out and also having a second secret wardrobe stashed beneath the floorboards under her bed would not make for a welcome guest upon her coming home after getting busted. The sweatshirt at least bought her a little time. 

“Hey,” Jake speaks, finally slicing the tension with a greeting. His left arm is looped through his goddaughter’s and she leans on him heavily to prevent herself from falling. 

“Hey,” Bradley says back. His face is stern. Jake knows he means business. 

“I’m sure this isn’t how you wanted to see me next.” Even though Jake is kind of pissed and anxious, there still remains a glimmer of humor within him. The complaint of many ex-girlfriends had always been how he never took anything seriously (and his serious lack of commitment too, but that’s an issue for another time), and he knows that it’s a blessing and a curse.

“Yeah, no kidding.” 

Bradley grabs his daughter’s free arm and helps Jake maneuver her inside over the steep ledge of the front door and to the asylum of the living room couch. 

Quincy’s eyes are wide open and her brain is moving in slow motion; scanning her surroundings but not being able to focus on one thing before her eyes are caught by the presence of another. She had never been drunk before in her life and the copious amounts of vomit that had spewed out of her mouth tonight discouraged her from trying to speak. Any thought of opening her mouth made the muscle memory of puking prevail. 

The rational part of her brain knows that her father wants to wring her neck, but she silently prides herself on calling Jake and kind of doing the right thing (even though she knows the right thing was not sneaking out and getting fucked up on a Thursday, to begin with). Her dad will forgive her and spending time with Jake was always fun. She just vows to make sure that she’ll never puke in front of him again because he turned green at the sight of her hunched over on the side of the road. 

Quincy lands on the couch with an incredible lack of grace. She bounces and almost slips off again, but sticks her foot out to help support her. Her vision is blurred before she focuses on the sight of her dad with the deepest frown on his face and his hands on his hips. Her eyes follow a horizontal line next to him and see Jake worrying his lip in between his teeth. A hiccup falls out of her mouth and she rushes to close it before her body can register a solution to the nausea plaguing her currently. 

The silence between the three of them is unforgiving and she can’t remember a time where she had felt so. . .embarassed. 

Here she is, about to get the scolding of her life in front of one of the adults she admires the most. All she had ever wanted was to be seen as a grown-up and it’s clear to her now that the men in front of her think anything but that. 

“You got anything to say?” Bradley huffs. His glare sharpens the more he takes in his daughter’s appearance. 

The silence he’s met with kindles a fire in his belly that shifts the anxiety he feels to the beginning of an obnoxious anger. 

Quincy can’t answer verbally because she knows she’ll throw up. She can’t shake her head to answer him either. The room is spinning and the spiraling shadow cast by her vision will undoubtedly make her throw up too. She can’t even feel her lips and anything she has to say will not be an answer worthy of her dad’s appreciation. She fucked up big time and now she has to reap what she’s sown. 

Her dad scoffs. The room inflates with tension from all three of the living room’s occupants. Quincy closes her eyes. Jake holds his breath. Bradley bawls his hand into a fist. 

Here it comes. 

Bradley opens his mouth; words like venom sitting on the tip of his tongue. Quincy closes her eyes and braces herself for the yelling that she knows is coming. 

“Hey, let’s table it for tomorrow. Yeah?” 

If Jake wasn’t already her favorite, now he certainly is. 

Bradley turns to him. His cheeks are tomato red and his wrath sitting in the base of his throat. He has half the mind to come unglued on him before he remembers the pit of guilt from earlier. The putrid watery feeling of guilt dampens his vocal chords. His sentences dig a grave in his voicebox. 

Jake is right. 

His daughter can barely sit up straight and you’re upstairs trying to sleep. There’s no point in waking the entire house and having a one-sided screaming match with someone who will only have the faintest memory of what happened the next morning. 

Bradley lets out a hefty breath of air that he hadn’t even realized he was holding in. Jake claps him on the shoulder in silent praise for his decision to drop it. Never would he have ever thought that Jake Seresin of all people would be the one discouraging him from being a total hothead. 

“Thanks for bringing her home, man. Sorry about – you know –” he attempts to apologize. Apologies to you rolled off his tongue like water rolled off waterfalls. They just didn’t have that effect when it came to other people who weren’t you. 

“Don’t sweat it. Wouldn’t be stickin’ around if I took half the shit you say to heart.” 

It’s not funny but Bradley laughs. He doesn’t know if it’s a feeble attempt at repairing the hurt he had done earlier or if it’s to absolve some of the fury that was sitting unleashed in the room, but he’s never been more thankful for Jake in that moment. 

Bradley starts to walk Jake to the front door and back out to his truck. Despite being the flashiest and cockiest person he knows, Jake has had the same car for close to twenty years. The silver F-150 had seen many drunk Bradleys and many drunk yous. He just wished that his daughter wouldn’t have been a passenger on the faux “drunk bus” too. 

He’ll never admit it, but part of him is jealous that Quincy called Jake instead of him. He wants to classify the feeling as betrayal, but he knows that it’s just envy. He knows that he would’ve called Maverick at this age instead of his mom. It’s a teenage rite of passage and nothing personal. 

“Look, it’s late and I know you’re pissed but she did the right thing. The party got busted, you know. And she uh – her friends were drinking, like a lot, and wanted her to get in the car with them,” Jake pauses, making sure Bradley is hearing the case of positives he’s building for Quincy, “She said no and then she called me.” 

Bradley nods his head and the tension in his shoulders starts to relax bit by bit. He’s oddly comforted by his daughter’s morality despite committing the precipice of what makes up an immoral teenager to get herself in this damn situation anyway. 

“Most kids don’t do that and I know she isn’t most kids so uh – don’t go too hard on her tomorrow?” 

The open door of the truck makes a high-pitched dinging noise as Jake’s legs sit half situated on the seat and halfway steady on the ground. The soft yellow light emitting from the streetlights tints the world in a sepia hue. 

“Can’t promise that. She’s in some serious shit.” 

Jake chuckles. “Serious shit or not, that’s still your baby. She needs you more than you think, you know.” 

The car door is shut and the engine is cranked. Bradley pats the hollowed metal of the truck as a “goodnight and goodbye” send-off as Jake backs out of his driveway and into the street. He watches as he rounds the corner to the stop sign before the image of his friend’s truck draws smaller and smaller and smaller until the image is microscopic. 

Bradley finds his way back inside and sees his daughter lying on her side with a throw blanket swallowing her figure. 

He heads into the kitchen to grab her a glass of water and some Advil to set on the coffee table. Bradley doesn’t recall being hungover so much as just sick to his fucking stomach the first time he drank, but he leaves it for her just in case. His eyes catch the bottom cabinet that houses the popcorn buckets and mixing bowls and grabs the largest one to serve as her “catch-all” puke bucket for the night. 

As he settles everything and makes his journey upstairs to your shared bedroom, he hears the wet wretch of what cannot be mistaken for vomiting. His heart harbors empathy for his little girl, but his brain garners no sympathy for her. Some sick part of him is glad that she’s throwing up because it’s a consequence that he doesn’t have to impose on her. She had done it to herself. 

“That’s what I thought."

He turns off the bedside lamp as he lays down next to you. You don’t stir from your deep sleep. The house is finally quiet and everything as is it should be. 

Bradley just doesn’t like the fact that this kind of peace is tainted with the fact that Quincy is growing up and that there is nothing he can do to stop it. 

[multifan2022]

Used to be yours

Masterlist

You were never part of Bradley's plan. The plan consisted of two things, getting into the Navy, and being a pilot. But the day he met you was the day his list grew, grew to include you, the constantly forgotten best friend of his most hated classmate. Jake Seresin. He would never forget his Tapout ceremony, because that's where his real story starts. 

You had known Jake your whole life so it wasn't really a surprise when he asked you to come to the ceremony. His father had also hated you for at least your entire friendship with his son. You, in his eyes, were nowhere near good enough to be associating with the Seresin Heir. It didn't matter that you had money of your own, sitting away in a trust fund. In Jacob Sr's eyes you were just the kid from town who's daddy had died in the line of duty. 

It didn't matter that said daddy had died while on call as a firefighter.. 

So when you were told to buy your own ticket, get your own hotel room and rental car you really weren't surprised. What did surprise you though was Jake barely even saying hi to you before he was introducing some girl to the rest of his family. The snarky smile she gave you and the little finger wave of condescension turned your stomach. The little life that Jake had unknowingly left there the night before not yet protesting, but the action caused your heart to squeeze in pain. Without having to speak, since no one was listening anyways, you walked away and to the bathroom. 

Your heart broke slightly when you came back and the entire Seresin family was nowhere to be seen. They had left, off to some fancy dinner without you. Jake had left.. without you.. suddenly the receipts for this trip flashed in your mind. The money for the ticket, room, the car you rented. The pretty black dress and shoes you bought to wear. All money wasted.. 

At least it was wasted until you turned around and noticed a group of high ranking Military men standing looking sadly at something. Side stepping a little you looked past them to see another man, still standing at attention, clearly waiting for no one but waiting all the same. You didn't know what took you over but suddenly you couldn't look away. Your feet moved towards him without thinking as you took him in. 

He was beautiful. Beautiful in a broken kind of way, the same way you always saw in yourself when you looked in the mirror. Scars on his neck and face came into view the closer you got. And when his brown eyes locked onto yours it was like the entire world faded. Like you could see yourself introducing this man to your friends, to your grandma. Taking him to your dad's grave without him laughing or being awkward like Jake did the one time you took him there. 

Bradley was shocked to see someone walking towards him. He wanted to turn and see who you were really looking for but he knew he was the only one left out on the field. He had seen Natasha pause wanting to turn around and tap him out. He could see her now from the corner of the field watching as this beautiful girl walked towards him. You stopped just in front of him and whispered a small hi. Clearly you were embarrassed, he was too. But when you asked in a voice much stronger if it was okay for you to tap him out he almost sagged in relief. When your hand came up to tap him on the shoulder tears filled his eyes. 

Without asking his arms wrapped around you, yours easily coming around to hold him just as tightly. For some reason seeing him left out on the field waiting for someone who couldn't show up made you understand him on a level that so many other people couldn't. You ask him to go to dinner with you and the two of you spent the entire night talking about your parents and his. Expressing how grateful you both were to have someone in your life for you, it was your grandma for him, his Uncle Maverick. Maverick was due back the next day meaning that when Bradley practically begged you to meet him you couldn't turn it down. 

The next morning when Bradley opened the door to the home he and Maverick were temporarily sharing, the wind was knocked out of his lungs. He had never been more sure than in that moment that his parents were truly looking out for him as his eyes took in the Hawaiian style dress sundress you were wearing. You mistook his awed look though, quickly explaining how your parents got married in Hawaii and how after your mother passed away your father took to wearing Hawaiian shirts to try and honor her memory. And how even after he passed away you tried to continue that tradition. 

Bradley stopped you with a soft smile even though inside he wanted to strangle whoever it was that made you feel so self-conscious about it. Gently he grabbed your hand and guided you up to his makeshift room pulling out a Hawaiian shirt that belonged to his dad and telling you a very similar story. It was the start of what would become a fairytale-like story. 

Three months later you were storming from Seresin family ranch and sprinting for your car. Positive pregnancy test fisted in your grip as Jacob's words replayed over and over in your mind. "No son of mine will be drug down by a bastard child." "You're just a sad little girl who's looking for a family" "He will never love you". After Jacob SR demanded he pay for an abortion you stormed out. His mother caught up to you on the porch, promising your child a trust fund and enough money to care for a baby for 18 years if you just swore to never tell Jake. 

You were suddenly thankful that your plane ticket was for the same day. Bradley was coming home the next day and Mav had asked you to pick him up from the docks. You were beyond excited to see him. Your love for Jake had faded every single day as you talked to Bradley. You were terrified to tell him though that there was a baby growing in you. One that was put there by someone who went out of his way to make Bradley's life harder. Someone who used the fact that Bradley's parents had passed away as a reason why he wasn't good enough to be a pilot. 

The next day your phone rang as this giant ship got closer and closer to the dock. Bradley had been staring at his phone for 10 minutes waiting to get enough service to call. He just wanted to know when the soonest he would be able to see you. He could hear the deep sadness and worry in your voice when you said you were waiting on the dock for him. He thought nothing could dampen the pure excitement he felt knowing that someone was waiting for him, especially someone he loved as much as he loves you. But he was proved wrong when he saw how puffy and red your eyes were. How your bottom lip quivered the closer he got. The only thought then was what he would do to make you feel better. 

And that's what he did for the last 10 years every decision Bradley Bradshaw has ever made has been made with the utmost care. When he adamantly wanted nothing more than to continue dating you. When he said he wanted to be there for the birth of your daughter. Another year later when he got out on one knee and asked you to become his wife. When two years later he begged you to let him adopt and make her officially a Bradshaw.  And potentially the biggest decision he's ever made to date, was made last week when Cyclone pulled all of the aviators and officially made them the dagger Squad. Everyone besides Maverick, Cyclone and Phoenix were shocked to hear the mustache man say that he needed to call and talk to his wife. The guys all sat around talking about how none of them had even known Bradshaw was married.  

Jake scoffed and rolled his eyes when Phoenix told him in a very hard voice that it wasn't any of his business. Jake never understood because no matter how hard he tried to reconcile and create a friendship with Rooster the man just constantly blew him off. It didn't matter how many times he apologized for bringing up his dad. Or for screaming nepotism when he found out that Bradley had grown up with Ice and Mav. Bradley held strong that he couldn't forgive some of the things the man had said. But Jake didn't know Bradley wouldn't forgive him for the words that he spoke to you. 

Bradley remembers the devastation on your face when you called Jake to tell him you were pregnant. It had taken Maverick and himself two months to talk you into it. And it was something Bradley hated remembering, hates that he had a hand in. Because he will never forget the look on your face when Jake told you he couldn't be friends with you anymore. That being friends with a young, single mother was bad for not only his family's reputation but his own. That he didn't want his higher up thinking he hung out with people who made bad choices. He hung up before you ever got the chance to tell him who the baby belonged to. 

Two months later an envelope arrived in the mail, inside were papers that broke your heart even more. Paperwork signed by Jake stating that he wanted nothing to do with any potential child. Bank account information as well as trust fund information for your daughter from his parents with a letter from his mother apologizing that they could have nothing to do with you or her. 

You never spoke to or of Hangman again, until your husband called and told you he had a possible permanent assignment. Told you the details and who would be there. You wanted to say no. Wanted to tell Bradley to come back to his previous team, back to the small home you had made for yourselves. But you could hear the underlying excitement in his voice. Could see the hope shining in his eyes even over Face-time. You knew being close to Mav and Ice would bring him joy. Being at TOPGUN made him feel closer to his father. Would give him an opportunity to become an instructor. You knew that you couldn't allow your past to destroy something beautiful in your future. Even if you knew that Rooster wouldn't complain a single time if you said you couldn't do it. But for him… you could do anything. 

Even at that something was seeing Hangman. And yes that was what you were going to call him because the person you remembered as Jake was the first person you had ever fallen in love with, a boy from your childhood who would do anything and everything to make you smile. Hangman was the guy who left you at his Tapout ceremony. The guy who left when he found out you were pregnant. The guy who had hung you out to dry and never looked back. While you were ridiculously grateful that he had saved your husband and surrogate father in law, you couldn't forgive him for everything else. 

That's why now Bradley was standing on the tarmac nervous as hell. Because he hadn't seen you or his daughter in months and of course Hangman had to be here with the group. Claiming he wanted to see everyone's happy reunions. Bradley had sent you a text stating that the blond was here, he just hoped you would see it before you got off the plane. As he watched the tires bounce on the ground he got a text. 

BeautifulGirl: Hen wants Mav to catch her off the stairs like always. Catch me BradBrad? 

BradBrad: Always Beautiful. Be the last off for me. ❤️

He leaned over and showed the text messages to Maverick who chuckled and shook his head even though deep down he absolutely loved having a tradition with his granddaughter. So together they stood and waited watching as Phoenix's girlfriend came rushing down the stairs screaming for her. As Bob's little sister brought over his dog, and as Payback reunited with his two daughters and wife before moving forward. 

Bradley turned back looking at the group, happy to find that Coyote and Hangman were being introduced to Payback's wife so they were too busy to watch. As soon as they reached the bottom of the plane stairs a beautiful little blonde girl with sea-foam green eyes threw herself off the second to last step and into the arms of her Grandpa, both of them laughing. Pete gently stepped out of the way so that you could throw your arms and legs around your husband pressing your lips together all in pretty much one movement.  He wrapped one arm under your butt, holding you too him while the other wrapped around your neck. It was a feeling neither of you would ever get used to or tired of. 

Being together, touching each other in any way was addictive. The two if you were always touching. Whether it was holding hands or Bradley's hand resting on your back or you sitting on his lap, you were always touching when you were together. Next to you you guys could hear Mav and Henley giggling. Bradley smiled whispering to you "I'm chop liver to her when Poppas here" you nodded brushing your fingers down his cheek. Mavs voice broke the little bubble around the two of you. "How about we go get some lunch and ice cream then my little Henny can stay the night." 

Hangman watched from the other side of the tarmac as Rooster and Maverick each carried someone away from the plane and towards Bradley's Bronco. There was something in the back of his mind and in his heart screaming to get a closer look. To know who this little girl was in Mavericks arms. To just see the face of the woman that was so tightly held against Bradley. But as he went to take a step forward Phoenix laid a hand on his chest and gave him a hard look while shaking her head. When he looked back up the little family was already loading into the Bronco. 

~

~

~

PART 2

[topguncortez]

Race Against the Clock - B. Bradshaw

whumptober masterlist || main masterlist

prompt: finding old messages

synopsis: Dragon had made a promise to herself at young age to never be in a relationship, but all that changed when she met Bradley. Now, years later, she is wondering if she made the right choice to give up that promise.

warnings: infidelity, verbal abuse, childhood trauma, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of infant death, cursing, religious trauma, religious abuse.

word count: 2.2k

Dragon could remember the first time her parents got into a fight. She was six years old, Natasha ten. They had been playing in the treehouse in the backyard that their dad had built for them. They would play in that treehouse for hours on end, until their mother had to all but force them in the house for dinner and to take a bath. Dragon loved that tree house, it was the one place she felt like she could get away from everything. She had been at the highest point in the treehouse, when she heard her mother’s loud voice. 

“Were you with her again!” Her mother yelled. 

“I didn’t come home just to get yelled at!” Her father yelled back. 

“You never come home! And when you do, you smell like her!” 

“She doesn’t fucking yell at me like you do!” 

The next thing she heard was the loud smashing of glass, and Natasha’s loud footsteps as she ran up to her. Dragon stared at her older sister with wide eyes, panic and fear filling her small body. Natasha, at that point, was no stranger to hearing the loud yells and the breaking of items, wrapped her arms around her sister. 

“It’s okay,” Natasha pleaded, “No one got hurt. Momma is just upset.” 

That day was a day that had stayed engrained in Dragon’s mind. She became more privy to the snarky comments and the small arguments between her parents. They also became worse at hiding their spats behind the closed door of their bedroom. The older Dragon got, the less they seemed to care about airing their dirty laundry to their girls. Dragon had always wondered who the “she” is that was the root of all their problems. It wasn’t until Dragon was 15, that she finally saw who “she” was. It was also that day that Dragon asked her mother why she stayed with her father, if she knew he was cheating on her. 

“Because the church frowns on divorce,” Her mother muttered as she made dinner. 

“The church also frowns on adultery,” Dragon retorted. 

Her mother sighed, putting the spatula down on the counter. She wiped her hands and turned towards her youngest, rebellious, daughter, “Your dad is. . . he’s flawed but he’s a good man. He doesn’t hurt me. He takes care of us, he takes care of you. It would be much worse if I left him.” 

Dragon had made a promise to herself, right then and there as she watched her mother prepare dinner for her father, that she would never be in a loveless relationship. Hell, Dragon told herself she was never going to be in a relationship. Her mother wasn’t perfect by any means, but she didn’t deserve to be treated like this. She didn’t deserve to be so scared of the Church’s retaliation for her getting a divorce that she had to stay with a man who cheated on her constantly. Dragon made a promise that she wasn’t going to abide by the Church’s rules and stay where she was disrespected. 

But all that changed when she met Bradley. All through the later part of high school and college, and even into flight school, Dragon had never had a boyfriend. Her promise didn’t stop her from going out and having the occasional one night stand, or situationship. She was just too scared to fall into the trap that her mother fell into. Dragon had done all she could to keep her partners at an arm’s length away, never letting them see the real her. . .until she met Bradley. 

At first, she hated him. She hated Bradley Bradshaw and how quickly he had her opening up to him. They had been at Top Gun together, the first time. There was just something about the older guy in her class that had her wanting to be around him. Maybe it was the cool guy persona he tried to pass off. Maybe it was the big baby cow eyes and the ears that stuck out. Or maybe it was that he saw her as a competitor and not just a girl in the class. It was also the first time they had ever hooked up. Neither one of them would admit it, and they still denied it to this day that something happened the first time they were at Top Gun. 

After that, they went their separate ways, Dragon up to Lemoore and Bradley to Pensacola. Every so often, if their paths crossed, they would find a bar to meet up at, or the solace of a barracks room. Then, they were both assigned to the Uranium Mission, along with Dragon’s older sister, Phoenix. It was the first time Dragon and Phoenix had been in the same assignment, and it was like oil and water. The two sisters fought constantly, trying to outdo one another to make it on the team. Dragon didn't make it for the final team, but she was assigned as a spare, Phoenix did make the cut. Dragon never knew what it was like to face fear until she heard Bradley try to eject from the back of a stolen f-14. Sitting on the tarmac knowing she couldn’t do anything until she was told. The moment Bradley’s feet got back on the ground, she rushed to him, both of them holding on to one another tightly. And that was yet another thing, neither one of them would admit to. 

It wasn’t until a couple of months after the Uranium Mission that they both stopped messing around with each other, and realized that they were just more than friends. They had both been permanently assigned to the North Island Daggers, then tension, both stressful and sexual, could be cut by a knife between the two of them. It was only a matter of time, until they both caved under the pressure, and admitted to their feelings. 

“For fucks sake!” Dragon yelled, slamming the door open to the male latrine, following Bradley in, “You don’t get to just boss me around and act like you don’t know who the fuck I am!” 

“Actually, Lieutenant,” Bradley sassed, putting his hands on his hips, “That’s how rank structure works.” 

“Oh fucking blow me!” Dragon rolled her eyes, “I can’t fucking believe I am falling for a guy who acts like a pompous ass when his uncle calls him out for getting a fucking question wrong.” 

“And I can’t believe I’m falling for a girl who acts like a brat every time they aren’t rewarded for something.” 

They both stared at each other wide eyed for a moment, their admission sinking in. 

“You like me?” Dragon asked, a blush and a smirk on her face. 

“Yeah,” Bradley huffed, “Against my better fucking judgement, I fucking like you, Dragon. A lot.” 

Dragon swallowed thickly, “Well, I like you too. . . against my better fucking judgement,” Bradley chuckled and looked at her. His eyes softened as he took in her stance, her arms crossed defensively over her chest, but her eyes were full of vulnerability. He knew just how much that statement scared her. He knew that this was the one thing she had been scared of for all her life, “Don’t fuck me over, Bradshaw.” 

“I would never dream of it, Trace.” 

Nearly four years later, Dragon and Bradley had found themselves married, and planning for their own family. They had been lucky to be named the godparents of the Seresin kids, and even had a furbaby of their own, but their family still felt incomplete. Bradley had never wanted kids before he met Dragon, he was always too scared of leaving someone behind like his father had left him and his mom. But just like Dragon, Bradley’s priorities had changed and so did his wishes for his life. 

It hadn’t been an easy road, Dragon had been diagnosed with infertility within their first year of marriage. They had tried nearly every natural remedy that they could to try and conceive, from tracking her cycle to natural herbs and teas. They had been lucky twice, but both pregnancies had ended in heartbreak. They had finally decided it was time to try an in-vitro method to creating a family. They thought it was going to be easy, the doctor made it sound like it was easy. However, it was quite the opposite of what they imagined. 

Dragon’s eyes scanned the clock above the wall for what felt like the tenth time in the past half hour. Bradley had told her he was getting drinks with the guys after work. It was only four o’clock when he sent that message, now it was almost midnight and he hadn’t come home yet. Dragon tried her best to not be one of those wives; the ones who stayed up texting and calling their husbands until they came home. Bradley would always text her if he was going to be later than he anticipated, but there had been a shift in him in the past couple of weeks. There had been a shift in both of them in the past couple of weeks. 

“Baby,” Bradley sighed as he leaned against the doorframe, “That was Jake.” 

“Mhm,” Dragon nodded, not looking up from the book she was reading. 

“They uh. . . they lost their baby.” 

Dragon paused her reading, her eyes glancing up at her husband before looking back at the pages of her book, “That’s too bad.” 

Bradley’s eye brows furrowed as he looked at her, “Yeah. . . He called and asked if maybe you could come talk to Y/N, she’s really going through it right now.” 

Dragon didn’t say anything as she chewed on her bottom lip. She was never really the one for the hugs and the feelings and the ‘let me make you feel better’ type of stuff. She put her book mark on her page and shut her book, looking up at her husband. 

“I don’t know how to do that,” Dragon simply said, and Bradley could see she was telling the truth, “And if I’m being honest. . . I don’t really want to be the one to comfort her.”

“Baby,” Bradley said, sitting down next to her. 

Tears welled up in her eyes, as she blinked them away, “If my own wounds weren’t so fresh, I would be the first one over there. But we just buried a baby, Bradley. I can’t be the one who goes over there. I can’t.” 

“Okay,” He said, placing a kiss on her forehead. 

“Maybe you can?” Dragon offered, looking up at him, “I mean, you have a better relationship with the two of them. You could be there for both of them.” 

The sound of the garage door opening pulled Dragon from her thoughts. She pulled the cardigan on her body tighter as the sound of their dog’s paws bounded towards the door to greet Bradley as he walked in. Bradley stopped and petted their dog for a moment, before walking into the kitchen, shocked to see his wife still awake. 

“What are you doing up?” Bradley asked. 

“Waiting for you,” Dragon answered. 

“I told you that I was with-” 

“No you weren’t,” Dragon shook her head. Bradley’s eye brows furrowed, “You never signed out of your icloud on my laptop. I saw the messages between you and Y/N,” Dragon let out a self-deprecating laugh, “I found the one where she said ‘can you come over? I need you’.” 

“Baby-” 

“Why the fuck is she asking you to come over?” 

“It’s not like that.” 

Dragon laughed, shaking her head as if she had truly lost it, “Are you fucking kidding me? Some woman texts you asking you to come over cause she needs you and you’re telling me ‘it’s not like that’.” 

“It’s not!” 

“Then tell me what it is.” 

“It’s just. . .” Bradley ran a hand down his face, “Jake isn’t helping her. He doesn’t know how to process this. She needs someone who can process this.” 

“And you’re the one who can help process this.” 

“Yeah,” Bradley nodded. Dragon’s eyes narrowed on him, searching his face and frame for any indignation that he was lying, but she knew he was telling her the truth. Still, there was a part of her, that small part that made a promise to herself all those years ago, that was telling her otherwise. 

“Bradley, just tell. . . tell me the truth,” Dragon pleaded, running her fingers over her temples. 

“Nothing happened between us,” Bradley said sternly. 

“Then why the fuck is she messaging you at three in the morning asking you to come over! And why did you go!” Dragon snapped, tears running down her face, “I mean what in the actual fuck, Bradley.” 

“It’s not like that,” Bradley huffed, running a hand down his face, “I love you, Grace. And I love only you. You have been the only good in my life for so fucking long.” 

Dragon shook her head, “Then why do you run to her when she comes calling?” 

“Because she needs me.” 

Dragon chuckled, shaking her head, while Bradley hung his in defeat, “Yeah well maybe Y/N should worry less about ‘needing’ you and more about what her husband is doing.” 

Bradley’s head snapped up as he looked at his wife, “What do you mean? What the hell does that mean?” 

Dragon bit her lip, knowing she already said too much, but knew she had to tell him. With a sigh, Dragon admitted, “Jake is cheating on her.”

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[its-the-pilot]

Waves | Rooster x Reader

| Waves Masterlist | Masterlist |

My first Top Gun fic, please be nice and enjoy!

Summary: Fourteen years after leaving without saying goodbye, Bradley Bradshaw comes back into your life. (Mav's niece!reader)

Warnings: swearing, adult banter

Length: 2k words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Working on this as a series, let me know what you think and if you want to see more!

Message or comment to join the taglist!

Chapter One

“Bradshaw, as I live and breathe.”

Bradley immediately recognized the voice behind him without needing to turn around. He shook his head before downing the shot of bourbon in his hand and throwing his next dart, scoring 13. He’d never claimed to be good, but the unwelcome distraction didn’t help. “Hangman. You look… good,” he replied flatly, turning to face his fellow aviator.

Both men were wearing their service whites, customary for the mixer held for TOP GUN students the night before beginning training. “Well, I am good, Rooster. I'm very good. In fact, I am too good to be true,” Hangman gave his usual smirk as he picked up Rooster’s last dart from the table and threw it, hitting the bullseye without even looking. “Didn’t think they let old timers in.”

They had met a few years earlier in flight school, and they instantly had a rivalry of sorts. Bradley had been several years older than the rest of the pilots in the program, due to not being able to attend the Naval Academy like he wanted. It took him years longer than it should have to become an aviator, and there was a bit of a chip on his shoulder because of it. Hangman, cocksure as ever, had instantly picked up on that weakness and exploited it to the best of his ability, pointing it out every chance he got. Some things never changed.

“Didn’t think they let assholes in either, but here you are,” Rooster shot back, taking a long pull from the beer on the table beside him before moving to gather his darts off the board.

The younger man chuckled, the insult seeming to roll off him like water off a duck’s back. “C’mon now, Rooster, we’re old buddies! Some older than others,” He smirked, sneaking in another jab as he patted him on the back. “Don’t take it so personal.” Hangman did a quick once over of the bar, his grin still firmly affixed to his face as he noted the number of women in attendance for the evening. “Plenty of delectable dessert options tonight, why are you holed up over here all by your lonesome?”

“I’m here to fly, not fuck my way through Coronado.”

A boisterous laugh escaped the tall blonde’s mouth. “Someone doesn’t know how to take advantage of a situation when it presents itself. Your callsign really is fitting.” Straightening his uniform, Hangman’s eyes locked on to a pretty woman approaching the bar. “If you can’t get laid in Whites, you just don’t know what you’re doing. Watch and learn, Rooster.”

Bradley rolled his eyes and turned back to his dart game, draining his beer as Hangman walked away. As fun as it might be, he had no desire to watch him make a fool of himself in front of an entire bar with his cocky attitude.

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

You recited the drink order for your table a few times in your head as you walked up to the bar, raising your hand to get the bartender’s attention. Your coworkers Kendra and Hazel had wanted to come out tonight, knowing that the new crop of TOP GUN candidates would be here, dressed to the nines. You hadn’t been interested but they wore you down, telling you they would pay for your drinks if you just kept them company for a few hours. You secretly hoped it wouldn't take them long to find a couple guys to take home, so you could get on with your uneventful evening of laundry and prepping for work.

“3 beers, 3 vodka shots,” you ordered, passing a $5 tip across the bar. Sliding onto a barstool as you waited, you made a cursory glance around the bar and groaned to yourself, shaking your head. You couldn’t understand what the appeal was, most aviators had more balls than brains and were just looking for a quick lay.

It only took a minute of waiting for your drinks before you felt a warm, solid presence accompanied by a pair of hands resting on the bar top on either side of you, covered in white sleeves. “Not interested,” you said in a sing-songy voice, not even needing to look up to know it was a new TOP GUN aviator standing with his chest pressed gently against your back.

“Not even gonna give me a chance?” He asked, his southern drawl coming out as he leaned close to your ear.

You turned as much as you were able with his body so close and gave him a look, your eyebrow raised. He was handsome, tall and blonde, with striking green eyes, but his uniform was enough to turn you off. “Nope. I don’t date aviators.” Lord knew you had a lifetime’s worth of experience with them.

Your uncle Pete “Maverick” Mitchell had raised you from the time you were eight years old, after your parents died in a car accident. Growing up around Navy pilots gave you an aversion to them, and in your line of work, that was more helpful than you could imagine. You worked with aviators day in and day out in your job as an Aerospace Psychologist, and getting personally invested with the pilots would have consequences.

He chuckled, leaning back only slightly to allow your movement as his eyes traveled over your body. You wore a cabernet colored maxi dress with wedge sandals tied to your feet with white ribbons, like pointe shoes, and you had never felt more exposed than you did right then as he licked his lips, looking at you like prey. “You’re in the wrong place then, darlin’. We’re all aviators around here.”

“Well aware,” you sighed, turning back to the bar and waiting for your drinks. When the bartender approached and set your drinks down, you smiled warmly at her. “Thank you, Penny.”

The older woman grinned back, always happy to see you. She’d known you most of your life, though she was in and out of it at the will of your uncle, a typical flyboy incapable of settling down. You would never understand why she kept coming back to him after he broke her heart so many times. “Who’s your friend?” she asked, looking him over briefly. Penny knew how you felt about Navy guys, but she enjoyed teasing you.

“Not my--”

“Lieutenant Jake Seresin, ma’am. Callsign Hangman.” He offered his most charming smile as he cut you off and lifted his right hand from the bar to offer it to Penny.

You immediately took the opportunity to duck under his arm, grabbing the drinks on the bar in front of you. Penny laughed as Jake watched you slide away from him and head back to the table with your coworkers. “Better behave, she’s the owner,” you called back, your hands full of glasses.

“A pleasure, Lieutenant,” she took his hand and shook it before wiping down the bar where your drinks had just been. His eyes followed you across the bar, and she snapped the back of his hand with the towel. “You won’t wear her down. She’s got a million reasons not to go anywhere near Navy guys. There’s plenty of other fish in the sea.”

When you got back to your table, you snuck a glance back toward the bar, watching Penny give Jake what she was sure was a warning about you. He didn’t look phased though, and within minutes he had moved on to another girl a few seats away at the bar, repeating the same move he had done with you.

“Predictable,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as your coworkers chatted, rating the various aviators in the bar. You largely ignored them as you took a long drink from your beer, looking out the window at the sun setting over the ocean when you heard the tinkle of piano keys interrupting your thoughts. The old upright in the bar hadn’t been played in as long as you could remember, usually the only time you heard it at all was when someone got too drunk and fell into it.

From your seat you could only see the back of the man playing, but you could tell he was an aviator. Dressed in his service whites, his broad shoulders were pulled back with perfect posture as he tapped away at the keys, getting the feel for the instrument before he started playing an all too familiar song.

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain, Too much love drives a man insane…”

The sound of his voice made your stomach flip as if you were in a F/A-18. “No fucking way…” you breathed, not taking your eyes off of the back of the man’s head as he played.

“What?” Kendra asked, stopping her conversation with Hazel to turn in the direction of the piano player, then back to you, confused as to your reaction.

You didn’t answer as you stood, your steps cautious as you made your way across the bar in his direction. It couldn’t be. It had been nearly fifteen years since you last heard from him, the night he left for the last time.

Without saying goodbye.

“Jesus, Bradshaw! Not this song again! Is it the only one you know?” Hangman complained, not far from the piano and chatting up what was probably his fourth girl of the evening. Hearing his name was all the confirmation you needed.

Bradley wasn’t deterred by Hangman’s whining, instead he just continued singing, the bar joining in. He had always been good at being the center of attention when he wanted to be.

“You broke my will, but what a thrill, Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!”

Moving closer, you slipped into his line of sight without a word, a combination of emotions you didn’t understand bubbling up inside of you. He looked just like his father from the pictures you had seen, but at the same time he was still the teenager you had known so long ago.

“I laughed at love ‘cause I thought it was funny, You came along and…”

Looking up, his voice trailed off and his fingers faltered on the keys, making a sour note as he made eye contact with you. There was a long, awkward moment of silence as the entire bar watched on, curious as to what was happening.

He couldn't believe you were standing in front of him. The last place he had expected to find you was anywhere near anything having to do with the Navy, even if it was just a bar. And now here you were, staring at him as if you were seeing a ghost. Though he supposed he didn't look too much different. “You look good, Dimples.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at the nickname, and before you knew what you were doing, your hand reached out and slapped him across the face as hard as you could. The same hand flew to cover your mouth as you gasped at the realization of what you did. He didn’t immediately turn his head back to face you, and it made you feel even more nauseous.

It was so quiet a pin could drop. Embarrassment flooded over you and your eyes moved around the bar frantically before landing back on Bradley. When you realized his eyes were still on you, a sob only muffled by your hand escaped before you turned and ran out the back doors to the beach, barely stopping to get your purse and tell your friends you were going home on your way out.

There was no way this wouldn't be the talk of North Island tomorrow.

It remained silent until the door to the deck slammed shut behind you, then people started whispering amongst themselves, stealing glances at Bradley. Hangman had a smug grin on his lips as he stepped up behind his fellow aviator, clapping a hand on his shoulder as he leaned down to speak quietly.

“Damn, Rooster. I thought I was the only one who could earn that level of ire from women. Kinda hot, right?”

He shoved Jake’s hand away and stood, grabbing his cover off the top of the piano before heading toward the door you had exited from. “Fuck off, Bagman,” he snapped, hoping you hadn’t gotten too far.

Chapter Two

[topgun-imagines]

No Worse Pain

Requested: yes

Summary: Bradley has been extremely stressed at work lately. You don’t want to add to that by telling him about the pain you’re in.

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: periods, cramps, pain.

Pairings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader

Stupid fucking period cramps. In your entire life, you couldn’t remember another time when you wished for the pain to dissipate this badly. You felt like sobbing. For the past three hours, you had been curled up on the couch, hands clutching your lower waist desperately. You hadn’t had period cramps this bad for years. While you weren’t exactly sure what caused the pain to be this intense, you were silently praying that it would disappear soon.

Another wave of pain rolled through you, causing you to curl up even further and hiss quietly. Normally, Bradley would be curled up right behind you. Only, this week, he was conveniently so busy at work that even as the clock struck 11:00 pm, he was still nowhere close to coming home. So, you were left to find a way to deal with the cramps yourself.

However, nothing was working. You had taken painkillers and had a hot water bottle pressed against your lower stomach. And yet you still couldn’t find any relief. There was a random show playing in the background, but you couldn’t focus enough to make sense of it. You were so out of it that you didn’t even hear the crunch of your finance’s tires as he pulled into the driveway. Nor did you hear the door open with a loud creak.

It felt as if there was a 100-pound weight on his shoulders as Bradley stepped through the door and into your shared home. He hated the fact that he was only coming home to you this late at night. Usually, he was home in time for the two of you to share dinner. Lately, however, he had been coming home later and later. Over the past few weeks, Bradley’s workload had increased tenfold. He had stacks upon stacks of paperwork, plus training, and he was up for a new promotion.

The added stress had put a small strain on your relationship. A few arguments had been caused by Bradley’s newly added stress. However, they had been small and had quickly blown over. Now, as he kicked his heavy boots off and dropped his backpack onto the floor, all he wanted was to be with you.

He walked around the corner, ready to be greeted with the sight of you with your hair tossed up in a messy bun, pyjamas on and binging some new show that he had never heard of. But what he saw had him freezing for a second. The show was playing, just like how he had imagined, but you were balled up on the couch, whimpering quietly and turned away from the TV.

“Honey?” The second you heard his voice you were trying to hide the fact that you were in pain. With everything that Bradley had going on at work, you didn’t want to add more to his load. He immediately rushed forward and crouched down beside you. “Is everything okay?” The soothing feeling of his hand gently caressing your side had you wanting to burst into tears. Your emotions really were a wreck right now.

After taking a moment to compose yourself, you rolled over with what you hoped was a reassuring smile. “All good, baby. How was your day?” You silently pleaded that changing the topic would work. He hesitated for a moment, searching your face for any sign of pain before he relented.

“It was alright. Stressful as usual,” Somehow, that only made you feel worse. Knowing that Bradley had such a terrible day, the thought of him having to come home, expecting to relax, and having to deal with your pain instead made you feel uneasy. He noticed you wince when you shifted, your hand grasping your lower stomach. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

Regardless of the pain, you plastered a smile on your face. Bradley seemed to accept your single nod and dropped the subject. Wordlessly, you stood from the couch and made your way to the bedroom, Bradley hot on your heels.

Getting ready for bed was a hard task when you were trying to mask how much pain you were in. You could tell that Bradley was still suspicious, but you were grateful that he didn’t say anything. You disappeared into the bathroom, popping a few more painkillers into your mouth and finished your business.

Bradley was sitting on the bed when you returned. You could only smile at him, kissing his cheek as you climbed into bed. The soft cry that escaped you as you sat down had Bradley’s head snapping over to you. He cooed softly as he wrapped his arms around you and held you against his chest. You began crying softly, hating the fact that you were putting additional stress on your fiance. “Honey, it’s okay.” He attempted to soothe you quietly, but your tears only fell harder.

“Darlin’, please,” Your fiance pleaded quietly, asking, begging you to tell him what was hurting you. “Just let me in.” His forehead knocked against yours and you could feel the love and sincerity rolling off him in waves. He wanted you to open up to him. He wanted you to share that with him. So you nodded.

You took in a breath and began explaining yourself. “I got my period this morning. You were already at work,” You noted when you saw that Bradley was confused. “Everything was fine until this evening. Then I got really bad cramps and nothing I did worked. It really hurts.” You whimpered quietly. Sighing, your fiance hugged you tighter and ran his fingers through your hair gently.

Even though you had told him what was hurting you, he knew that there was something you were still holding back. Bradley simply held you, waiting for you to open up on your own. And when you spoke, Bradley was shocked at the words that came out of your mouth. “But even though it hurt that bad, the hardest part was not telling you.” Your head was resting on his chest and the room was so quiet that you could hear his heartbeat pick up at his words.

Given the promotion that he was up against, you really didn't want to draw his focus away from his work. You knew how much Bradley wanted this and you would never be able to forgive yourself if you were the reason that he didn’t get it.

It took your fiance a few seconds to form a response. “I’m sorry that you’re in pain, princess. Lay down, let me help you.” You obeyed, shuffling under the covers and letting Bradley maneuver you. He moved you until you were laying on your side with Bradley spooning you from behind. The feeling of his warm hands sitting on your lower stomach had you almost moaning in relief. Even though you had tried all night to dilute the pain, the second Bradley’s hand hit your skin, you felt a thousand times better.

There was a silent communication between the two of you as you both drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other's arms. No matter how busy or stressed Bradley was, you could share anything with him. It didn’t matter how big or small the problem, he wanted to know.

a/n: Hope you all enjoy! Thank you for reading and requests are open :)

Tagging: @topguncultleader @soulmates8 @t0kyoreveng3rs @there-goes-thefighter @blueoorchid @atarmychick007 @alexxavicry @bradleybeachbabe @chaoticassidy @nyx2021 @aviatorobsessed @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @angelbabyange @oliviah-25 @cassiemitchell @classyunknownlover @shelbycillian @khaylin27 @bruher @lovelywiseprincess @sunsetsimpsblog @fandom-life-12 @emmza63 @cornishkat @iceman-kazansky @himbos-on-ice @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @wkndwlff @entertainmentgal8 @dakotakazansky @kmc1989 @shanimallina87 @memoriesat30 @sarahjoestewy-blog @ducks118 @marvelouslyme96 @linkpk88 @xoxabs88xox @abbymwall @eternallyvenus @rey26 @lt-spork @callsign-ember @tim-thefrog @zombi3wh0r3 @cheyrenee @nyctophilic0vitnir @labellapeaky @skylineskyler @irosemh

Join my taglist!

[ash5monster01]

Do you want me?

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x FemReader

Warnings: angst, fluff

Summary: As a girl who had often been single and found herself in crappy relationships, it’s hard to get into a new relationship without knowing the full intentions of the other. So when Rooster starts to show his attraction in more physical ways it’s hard to just let it slide. (just a short little blurb but I relate very much to it considering most men who kiss me go for other girls anyways, so I wanted to make Rooster a comfort character)

word count: 744

Masterlist

If you were being completely honest you weren’t sure when your relationship with Rooster had turned into something more. First it was simple, just friends. Then touches started to linger, eyes began to stare, and compliments meant so much more. So here you were, sat on the couch of his apartment, watching a movie you had seen a hundred times, as he popped a fresh bag of popcorn. The flirting had been going on long enough now that both of you were aware of the attraction, so when Rooster came back he wasn’t so shy about sitting directly next to you. His arm wrapped around the back of your spot on the couch.

“We can watch something else” he told you, his face so close it was almost hard to breath. For the first time since you guys had started flirting you felt the panic set in. It had been a long time since you had kissed someone and it actually mean something. Rooster took your silence as a different answer though. “Unless you don’t want to watch a movie?”

“Sorry” your apology was pathetic because there was nothing to apologize for. “I was stuck in thought”

“Oh yeah, about what?” the suggestive smirk on Roosters face brought a red tint to your cheeks. You had never been shy to men flirting but you knew you deserved more than what you had in the past and with how confusing this whole new relationship had been, how were you to know his true intentions?

“Wouldn’t you like to know” you teased nudging your shoulder into his chest now that he had turned his body to face you a bit more.

“I would because if it’s about me kissing you then that’s what I was thinking about too” you felt your heart sink and you wish you hadn’t been so disappointed by men in the past and this moment would be much more exciting than depressing for you. Rooster could sense this change in your demeanor and he pushed some hair behind your ear. “We also don’t have to if you don’t want to”

“It’s not that” you sighed pressing your face into your hands. You felt so silly and dumb but it had been so long since you had actually felt wanted and even then it was just a feeling.

“You can tell me Y/N” he liked you, more than he thought he did, and he wanted this to be perfect. But if you were having second thoughts he didn’t want to get too attached.

“It’s just if you kiss me it has to be because you want to kiss me. I can’t pretend that being just some other girl, another checkmark on a long list of ladies satisfies me. If we do this, if I open up to you, I’m making sure I’m not wasting my time on a guy who has other options that he knows he would choose over me. I have to be the only choice because I’m so tired of being disappointed” Rooster had not expected this response and he felt his heart ache at the fact someone amazing as you had never been treated the way you should be.

“Y/N I don’t even have another option in mind. To be perfectly honest with you my feelings for you snuck up on me. But right here, right now, you are the only girl I want on my couch. And you are definitely the only girl I want to kiss” your heart began to pound at this confession. But it also continued to hammer against your chest because this almost guaranteed he was going to be kissing you.

“Promise?” you whispered, the anticipation now killing you.

“I promise” he told you before pressing his lips against yours. His mustache scratched your face but you could care less because it didn’t even compare to how amazing his plump lips felt against yours. Now that you knew he wanted this as much as you it felt like you could breathe. The taste of his cherry lips was better than you had imagined and he quickly pressed a firm hand into your back, pushing you further into him. Who cared about the movie now because this was so much better than anything else in this world.

“Yeah, I don’t want to watch the movie anymore” you said as you pulled away and he grinned before closing the gap between you once more.

[roosterbruiser]

Hi, please could I request a super fluffy, adorable and sickeningly sweet blurb for Bradley Bradshaw??

Sweet Rooster has a ridiculously tight hold on my heart right now

🐓

𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝

𝐚 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐰 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛

Rooster didn't realize how touch deprived he was until he met you. It's silly, really, because how could he not know? He was almost always alone and--more often than not--on a carrier in the middle of an ocean surrounded by testosterone. Maybe he didn't notice for so long because he didn't really care--or he thought he didn't care.

But then one night, only a month into what would become a very serious relationship, he was blinking himself awake as the two of you tried to get through Kill Bill: Volume 2 for the third time that week. He couldn't help that he was so tired, really. He got up at the crack of fucking dawn (which you thought was endlessly funny given his call-sign) and pushed his body to its limit all day on base in the hot sun. You didn't mind, really, and only teased him lightly about it. He obviously wanted to spend time with you, which was why you were sitting in his dark living room despite his desire to just sleep.

You're pretending not to notice him blinking himself awake and his big, brown eyes that are cartoonishly drooping. He's slumped over on the couch with his arm wrapped lazily around your waist.

In the middle of the movie, just after he dozes off for the third time, you turn to look at him. He's so dazed with exhaustion that he doesn't even feel your gaze, his thumb stroking long and complete circles over your bicep in a repetition that is surely aiding in lulling him to sleep.

"Roos," you whisper.

He slowly turns to look at you, raising his eyebrows, giving you a pathetic excuse of a smile. For a moment, he's worried you're mad at him. He really doesn't want to give you the wrong impression by watching the same movie three times in one week because he keeps fucking falling asleep while you're here. But when he sees your face, partly made up of shadows and partly made up of the flashing TV lights, he sees how open and gentle you look. Your eyes are soft and wide, lips tugging upwards, eyebrows blanched. You're not mad at all and he knows that immediately.

"M'so sorry," he says despite knowing you're not angry. He still wants to kick himself for not being able to just stay the fuck awake. "I really want you to know that I like you so much--like so, so, so much and you aren't, like, boring me or anything it's just that--!"

You don't know exactly why you do it, but you're glad you do. You have delicately tangled your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and it has rendered him entirely speechless--sentence coming to a screeching halt. It literally takes his breath away when you begin to very lightly scratch his scalp.

"Found your off button," you whisper, a grin creeping up your lips.

He wants to say something back, something witty and sharp, but he is so overcome with the desire to lean into your touch that he can do nothing but. His head grows heavy in your hands and you accept it with grace, laughing softly. It's a laugh that tells him for once in his life, he shouldn't be worried about imposing himself on others. He should just let you play with his hair.

"That's...that's real nice," he whispers finally, his voice thin.

You love seeing him like this: his lips parted, his eyes slipped shut, his Adam's apple bobbing thickly, his eyebrows pinched just so. He looks even more beautiful to you now than he did before--and it's because he's letting you get closer to him.

"Why don't you lay on my lap?"

Any other time, he'd have some sort of retort. But he just complies in silence, reeling at the loss of contact when you situate yourself so your lap is open and free for his head to lay upon.

But just before he lays down, a fear grips every nerve in his body. He hasn't laid on anyone's lap in years--fuck, he can't even remember the last time he laid in anyone's lap. Surely it was his mother's all those years ago--before she got sick, before he grew up, maybe even before his dad died. He feels, suddenly, like he's giving into something he didn't even know was tugging him.

But then he sees your eyes gleaming in the dim light. And maybe it's because you have the most beautiful face he's ever seen and maybe it's because he's lonely and maybe it's because he really does likely and maybe it's because he's so dead-tired, but as soon as you nod towards your lap, he complies.

Really, it's the closest you two have been before. You've had your fair share of over-the-shoulder cuddles and some polite goodnight hugs and quick kisses. But this--his cheek pressed against your thighs with one of your hands tangled in his hair and the other laying peacefully in the middle of his back--it's the most intimate thing you've done.

"People could pay you to do this," he mumbles, slurring against the material of your yoga pants.

You have to bite a grin as you gaze down at his profile; his features have all gone slack and you know he's on borrowed time now, slipping easily and restfully into dreamland.

"First one's on the house," you mumble, delicately outlining the scar across his throat. His long eyelashes flutter against his smooth skin and his mustache twitches very lightly when his mouth parts. "You're a very beautiful man, Bradley."

Heat gathers in his cheeks. You've rendered him speechless again.

In response, he wraps his arm around your leg, the one he's laying on. The crook of his elbow rests flush against the backside of your knee and he draws a careful line down the line of your calf. And then, very gently and with quivering lips, he turns and presses a lingering kiss to the inside of your knee.

And that's when you know. Really, that's when you both know: you're it for each other. Everyone else can go home.

here is my tag list!!

𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐦𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧, 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬! 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲, 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐛!

[mynameismckenziemae]

I Love You Two

Part 6

(previous part here, next part here)

Bradley Bradshaw x OFC x Jake Seresin.

Summary: Jake and Bradley’s reaction to your request isn’t what you expected but it’s quickly forgotten when the severity of Bradley’s injuries is made known.

Warnings: Adults (18+) only! MDNI! Smut, m/m kissing, unprotected p in v, oral (m receiving), cumplay, fingering, dirty talk, teasing, etc.

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

“Okay,” you whisper, heart about to beat right out of your chest, “then show me. Together.”

Jake and Bradley share a look and that split second of hesitation fills you with humiliation. Hot tears fill your eyes and spill over before you can blink them away.

“I’m sorry,” you swipe at your tears but they’re coming too fast. “That was-I just…I’m in love you with both. I’m so sorry-I-“ The sob you’ve been holding back threatens to choke you but then Bradley’s there.

“Liv, hey no-“ he cuts off with a wheeze when he pulls you to him too quickly, bumping into his bruised chest. Before you can ask if he’s okay, the world tilts as Bradley sways but Jake’s there, steadying you both.

“Whoa,” Jake murmurs, “you okay?”

“‘m fine,” Bradley nods but he’s suddenly pale and clammy, “just a little dizzy ‘s all.”

“Here,” your concern beats out any embarrassment as you step out of his arms and guide him with Jake's help to the couch, “Sit. Ah-don’t even start,” you give him a look when he opens his mouth to protest. “When’s the last time you ate?”

“I don’t know,” he winces as he sits back, “lunch I think? I took some of the pain meds they gave me when I got here. I don’t know why though, they don’t even help with the pain. Just makes me fuckin’ loopy.”

You look at the clock and sigh, it’s almost 7. “You know better than to take pain meds on an empty stomach. I’ll get you something to eat.”

“I know,” he closes his eyes and puts his head back to stop the room from spinning, “I was planning on eating when I got home. I just needed to talk to you first. I’ve already fucked everything up between us and now I’ve fucked up what you have with Jake. I can’t keep hurting you.”

His voice cracks and so does your heart.

“Roo…” you trail off, tears filling your eyes. You look to Jake. “Stay with him while I warm something up?”

He nods, sitting on the opposite end of the couch.

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

Leftover lasagna it is.

Your mind races as you try to think of what to say while you make two plates, assuming Jake hasn’t eaten either.

“Here,” your hands shake as you set the food down on the coffee table and hand them each a fork. Bradley holds his breath as he sits up but he begins to eat.

You pretend to be busy in the kitchen as they eat, returning once it’s quiet.

There’s color in Bradley’s face now, along with pain and exhaustion.

“Let me see,” you gesture to his chest.

“I’m fine-“ he grumbles but lets you lift his shirt.

The deep bruising left behind by the harness is enough to make your stomach turn unpleasantly.

“Come on,” you sigh, “you’re going to lay down in my bed.”

He opens his mouth but you continue before he can argue, “The couch is too short for you and you can’t drive right now anyway.”

“Fine,” Bradley huffs as he slowly stands. Jake rises too, noticing how unsteady he still is on his feet, “just for a few minutes.”

“Just for a few minutes,” you agree, knowing he’ll be asleep once his head hits the pillow.

Then you and Jake can talk.

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

Jake closes the door a few minutes later as he follows you out of the bedroom before clasping your hand and pulling you into his arms, tightening around you when he realizes you’re not going to pull away.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur into his chest; his familiar warmth is so comforting.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Jake assures, “you can’t control your feelings, Liv. You didn’t act on them either, not like I did.”

“No,” you reply, “but I could’ve been honest with you. I was just too scared to lose you…I’m still scared of losing you. I love you, Jake.”

“I love you too,” he murmurs against your hair, “I don’t want to lose you either, but I also don’t want you to lose Roo. I…I don’t want to lose him either. He’s a…friend, and we have to work together.”

“So where do we go from here?” You ask, lifting your head to look at him. His expression is as torn as yours.

“I don’t know,” he shakes his head, “I really don’t know.”

“We’ll figure it out tomorrow,” you sigh, suddenly exhausted, “watch a movie with me?”

“Sure,” he nods, following you to the couch.

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

Loud gasping pulls you from sleep a few hours later.

“What’s goi-“ you start sleepily but Jake’s already heading to the bedroom.

“It’s okay,” Jake’s murmuring as you stumble in.

Bradley’s breathing hard, his pants are kicked down to his ankles and his shirt pushed up to his neck.

“I can’t-I-I’m stuck,” he cries, not yet awake. His sleep- heavy arms pull at an invisible harness while the fear in his voice tugs at your heartstrings.

“You’re safe,” Jake whispers, placing his hand on Bradley’s.

“Jake?” Bradley’s brow furrows as he slowly blinks his eyes open, “you saved me.”

“Yeah,” Jake says thickly, “you’re safe now.”

“Don’t leave me here alone,” Bradley says, shaking his head groggily before spotting you. “Stay, please? I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

His vulnerability brings tears to your eyes.

“Okay,” you swallow the lump in your throat as you help guide the half-on shirt over his head while Jake pulls his jeans the rest of the way off his ankles. He meets your eyes before nodding.

“We’ll stay,” you murmur.

Bradley’s entire body relaxes at your words and he’s already sleeping again when you climb into bed beside him after stripping down to your tee shirt and panties. You can’t resist placing a kiss on his freckled back as Jake gets in behind you, clad only in his boxer-briefs as well.

It’s not long before you fall asleep between them, content for the first time in months.

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

Pleasure is steadily building from the calloused fingertips between your thighs as you slowly come into consciousness.

You don’t need to open your eyes to know it’s early; too early by the lack of sunlight.

“I can hear how wet she is,” Bradley’s whisper is strained.

“She’s soaked,” Jake confirms, “here.”

A whimper nearly escapes when Jake’s hand disappears, but a different touch is there a moment later.

“Fuck,” Bradley whispers as he runs his fingertips through your arousal, coating them before pushing inside.

“Yeah,” Jake agrees with a grunt as he ruts into your now bare ass, your undies pulled to your knees. “Why don’t I…” he trails off as his fingers return to circle your clit.

“Oh, she likes that,” Bradley hums, “I can feel her tightening around my fingers.”

There’s hardly any brown showing in Bradley’s eyes when you open yours, his pupils blown wide with lust. His heated expression is enough to hurdle you to the edge.

“Mornin’ sweetheart,” he smiles as he curls his fingers against your g-spot, pushing you off of it with a soft cry.

Jake groans in your ear as you reach back to find his hair, tugging as the pleasure consumes you.

Bradley’s eyes close and his expression turns pained before his free hand rushes below the covers. “Just watching you almost made me cum,” he breathes.

The thought has you clenching on his fingers still inside you.

“More,” you moan, wiggling your hips to get them both moving again, “I want more.”

“So greedy,” Bradley chuckles as he opens his eyes before looking over your shoulder to Jake as he withdraws his fingers, pushing Jake’s out of the way to rub your needy clit instead. “Give her what she wants.”

Jake nods, fumbling with his boxer-briefs behind you for a moment before guiding his cock to your entrance and pushing inside you with a low groan. His hand slides over your side to just below your belly button, pulling you impossibly closer as he fucks you.

“Feel good?” Bradley asks, fingers still on your clit.

“Yessss,” you hiss as Jake pushes your shirt up with his hand, revealing your breasts to Bradley before pinching your nipple.

“What about you, Jake? Feel good?” Bradley’s eyes flick over your shoulder as his hand shifts lower, brushing Jake’s cock as he pumps into you.

Jake jolts with a gasp, “Shit! Warn a guy.”

“I said,” Bradley’s voice lowers along with his hand, making a V with his fingers around Jake’s cock while thumbing your clit, “Does it feel good?”

“Ye-yes!” Jake chokes, hips stuttering, “Wai-wait! I’ll cum!”

“Ladies first, Jake,” Bradley reminds him with a cocky smirk, but he slightly loosens the grip while not changing the rhythm on your clit. His other hand is slowly moving under the covers as he begins to jerk off.

“Just you wait,” Jake pants, making you whimper as he fucks you harder, “you’re gonna cum faster than a virgin when you feel her for the first time without a condom.”

Bradley’s fingers pause and his eyes drop to your wide ones as he processes Jake’s words. You clench around Jake, growing close as you think of Bradley fucking you bare too.

“We’ll see,” he recovers, working you faster and tightening his fingers around Jake again, “but what I want to see right now is you cumming for me.”

Bradley’s words do you in. You gasp as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you, pulling Jake under too as you milk his cock. His low groan while he fills you makes Bradley shiver. His eyes fall shut as his hand works faster under the sheets.

“Wait,” you muster the energy to lift your hand, stilling his arm, “I want you to cum in my mouth.”

You internally cringe at your lust-drunk words, but Jake’s softening cock twitches inside you in interest.

“Fuck,” Bradley inhales sharply before rolling onto his back. He watches you follow, honing in on the way you shiver as Jake’s release dribbles down your thighs.

Bradley’s fingers drag through and gather it. You open your mouth expectantly but the air is sucked out of the room when he brings them to his lips. His brown eyes meet Jake’s as he sucks them clean with a pleased hum.

Jake’s entire upper body turns pink as he watches, fingers gripping the sheets as his cock thickens again.

You barely contain your whimper as you straddle Bradley's legs, his thick cock is steadily leaking precum, making your mouth water.

But Bradley’s hands gently catch your hair before you can duck your head.

“Are you sure?” He asks softly. The look on his face tells you he’s asking about more than what you’re about to do. He looks to Jake next, “And you?”

Jake meets your eye before Bradley’s and nods, giving his blessing.

You answer by leaning forward to brush your lips over his once, twice before he raises his head to return it; saying so much without saying a word. Months of regret and longing and apologies are poured between you. It takes everything in you to pull back before you lose yourself in it.

“Yes,” you murmur, feeling a bit lightheaded by it all, “I’m sure.”

His cock twitching against your stomach reminds you of your earlier plan. As much as you want to savor this, drag it out, and maybe even make him pay for everything that’s led to this…you can’t wait any longer and shift further down his legs.

He gasps when your tongue laps at the precum and shudders at your moan with the salty-bitter taste.

“That’s it,” he groans as his head falls back to the pillow. His right hand lets go of your hair to grip the sheets when you pull him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around before bobbing your head. Another moan escapes when you look at Jake; he’s watching you through half-lidded eyes, jerking himself off.

Bradley’s bruised chest is already heaving when you bring your hands up, but he’s not in any pain as one cups his sac while the other strokes what you can’t fit in your mouth.

“Fuck!” He grunts as his left hand tightens in your hair, “I’m already close.”

You just hum and suck harder.

“I-I-,” he pants as he locks eyes with Jake before his hand releases it’s tight grip on your sheets to pull him in by his dog tags, both groaning when they meet in a bruising, rough kiss.

A mixture of Jake’s spend and your slick coats your thighs as you clench around nothing while a high, needy, desperate sound leaves you at the sight.

Bradley’s entire body tenses at the sound, both hearing it and feeling it in his cock. Jake swallows the sweet sounds while you swallow his release.

When Bradley breaks their kiss to catch his breath, Jake’s watching you with rapt attention, eyes zeroing in on your chin where some cum somehow escaped. He pulls you up to him, licking it up before kissing you deeply, groaning at the taste.

You gasp when one of their hands is suddenly between your legs, pushing two thick fingers inside and rubbing your clit with the heel of a palm.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Bradley coaxes, “give me one more.”

Jake tenses before groaning into the kiss as hot ropes of cum coat your stomach. Already on the knife edge, you cry out as the pleasure consumes you, his release triggering yours.

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

A warm, damp washcloth across your stomach brings you back to your body. Though gentle, you still jolt when Jake cleans between your thighs.

“Sorry,” he whispers, “almost done.”

“Thanks,” you whisper, eyes still closed. Every single part of your body feels too heavy, including your eyelids. You’re sated and comfortable with Bradley’s bicep under your head as a pillow and his warmth at your back.

“We’ve tasted each other’s jizz,” Bradley mutters a few minutes later after the bed dips, being you both, signaling Jake’s return, “I think that’s a bigger step than spooning.”

You force open your eyes to see that you’ve migrated to the edge of the bed with Bradley in the middle.

“Oh fuck you,” Jake laughs as you feel him settle, his arm coming around you both, “I just didn’t want to hurt you.”

“I said I’m fi-“

“Shhh,” you interrupt, “sleep now, argue later.”

“You heard the lady,” Jake whispers, pulling you both just a little closer

“Yeah yeah,” Bradley sighs before pressing a kiss to the back of your head and promptly falling asleep.

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

A/N: This chapter was a nightmare to write. I don’t even know how many times I deleted everything and started over. 🥴 I think it’s passable…I really hope it is at least.

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

Tagging:

@writtingrose

@blindedbythelightt (thanks for the help again!)

@phoenix-rising-starbird-one

@dizzybee03

@shanimallina87

@cevansbaby-dove

@lexixstewart

@hookslove1592

@jessicab1991

@livzblogg

@carolina-on-my-mind03

@racerchix21

@midnightmagpiemama

@its-the-pilot

@kmc1989

@psuedochakra

@fandomology101

@kneelforloki

@djs8891

@mavrellover91

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@seitmai

[beyondthesefourwalls]

The Over/Under

Summary: Your friends insisted that the best way to get over someone was by getting under someone else. But you had been over your ex for a long time before you ever signed the papers, and you had no intention on hooking up with anyone. Then an attractive man with a mustache that really shouldn't look as good as it does catches your eye, and you suddenly forgot why you were hesitant in the first place.

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 6.2K

Warnings: Language, smut, talks of divorce

Notes: Written as a fun little surprise for my best gal @roosterforme for her birthday today, because what better gift is there than porn shared amongst friends, am I right?

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“What about him?” 

“No way. I can practically feel that guy’s ego from here.” 

“Him?” 

“He looks like he’s barely old enough to be here.” 

“Okay, what about him?” 

“Hmmmm. Oooh. He’s cute. Hey, I think we found your guy!” 

The words were followed by an excited jab to your side, and you hissed out an “ow” as you swatted the hand that had done so. Your best friend wasn’t phased in the slightest as she grinned at you, her eyes already a little glazed from the tequila shot you had taken upon getting to the bar - the very patriotic, very uniform filled bar, that was not your normal stomping grounds by any means.  

Not for the first time since arriving a little less than thirty minutes ago, you huffed out a breath of disbelief. “Isn’t tonight supposed to be about celebrating being single again? Why are you trying to scope out guys for me?” 

“Because what better way to get over someone than by getting under someone else?” 

You couldn’t help but snort into your drink as you took a long sip. Truthfully, you had been over your ex-husband for a long time now. The divorce was nothing more than a logistical means to an end, which the bastard had dragged out for far longer than it needed to be. You had felt single for damn near years at this point, but as of earlier this week, you were legally so, as well. Finally. 

“And what if I want to be on top?” you dared to ask, raising a challenging eyebrow. “What then?” 

Your friends all burst into laughter, talking over one another as they weighed the merits of your question, unsurprisingly veering off into debates about the best positions for maximum pleasure. You rolled your eyes fondly, but tuned them out as you let your eyes scan the crowd. It was apparently their mission tonight to get you laid, which you honestly should have caught on to as soon as they had thrown a brand new lingerie set at you earlier that night. It was strappy and lacy in all the right ways and you hadn’t hesitated to put it on under your tiny black dress because it had made you feel good. Sexy, even. You deserved to feel that way just for you, so you had thought nothing of it. Now, though, their insistence made sense. 

Pure curiosity had you looking in the direction of the man they had been trying to point out. He had that classic All-American look to him, all blonde hair and dimples, and you could see his shiny white teeth from across the bar as he laughed with his friends. He was cute, you supposed, and everything that your type used to be. But now he reminded you a little too much of your newly-made ex-husband, and you felt nothing as you looked at him. You let out an internal sigh as your eyes shifted to the left. 

You paused, your head cocking to the side as you took in the man sitting beside him. Now he…oh, now he was something. He was very something. He was handsome in a way that was different from your usual type. He had dark, tousled hair that curled on his head, and a mustache that you’d normally find hideous but that only served to enhance his very attractive look. His features were sharp, with a strong jawline and eyes that you couldn’t quite make out the color of from this far away. He was dressed casually in jeans and a ridiculous looking Hawaiian shirt over a plain tee. Just like the facial hair, it was a combo that you were sure would look ridiculous on anyone else - like the pretty boy sitting beside him - but that he was somehow pulling off. Something about him seemed to exude confidence without being cocky, and it was intriguing.  

You took another sip of your drink, feeling your heartbeat a little faster with strange anticipation. In principle, you had been single for a long time now. You weren’t planning anything tonight, but you also hadn’t felt that familiar tingle in your tummy since before you got married. 

Your thoughts were interrupted as your friend jabbed you in the side again. "Cute, right?” she asked eagerly. 

You shook your head, your gaze still fixed on the handsome stranger. "No, not him," you said, your voice low. "The one next to him.” 

Your friends followed your gaze. "Oh, damn," one of them breathed out, her eyes widening with interest. "He's hot." 

You didn’t pay attention to whatever your friends were talking about as you stared, swirling the remaining liquid around in your glass. He was broad, and even seated, you could tell he was tall. He was thick in all the best ways, and you wanted to know what he looked like up close. Almost like he could feel you watching him, he cut his eyes in your direction. They connected with yours, and instead of shying away, a flash of boldness had you raising your glass to your mouth to take a small sip. You swiped your tongue over the moisture left coating your bottom lip, eyes never leaving his. A slow grin spread on his face and a thick eyebrow raised before he turned back to his friends. You smiled to yourself. It was a rare moment of feeling powerful and in control, and you relished it.

He was looking back at you now, and you felt a flutter in your stomach at the intensity of his gaze. You shifted in your seat, feeling a sudden urge to be closer. It was an unfamiliar feeling, and you didn’t quite know what to do with it.  It had been so long since you had tried to pick up a guy, and you weren't sure you remembered how

A moment passed and he looked away again. Feeling emboldened, you downed the rest of your drink and pushed out of your seat. “I’m going to get another,” you announced before you could talk yourself out of it. It was a bad cover and you knew it, and by the way your friends cheered and started egging you on, they did too. 

You took a deep breath as you tried to quell the flutter in your stomach. You made it a point to not look at him as you approached the bar. You leaned against the counter, ordering a tequila shot and splurging for the top shelf when the kind, pretty bartender asked for your order. You weren't sure if the drink would help settle your nerves or make them worse, but you needed something to distract you from the intense gaze you swore was burning into your back. 

She slid the shot across to you with a grin, nodding when you asked her to put it on your tab before quickly moving on to other waiting customers. That tingling sensation of being watched came back stronger, and you had to remind yourself to breathe when a warm presence leant against the bar at your side, facing you. You turned your head, and oh, wow. He had a smile on his lips that made your knees weak, and from up close, you could see faint scars that had faded with time. He had eyes the color of dark honey that sucked you in, and even that ridiculous mustache looked soft. Your whole body tingled at the proximity. 

“Hi,” you said, and you were surprised at how breathy you sounded. His smile widened as he looked you up and down.

“Hi.” His voice was deep and husky and you fought the urge to groan at how delicious it sounded. "Can I buy you a drink?" he asked.

You grinned, feeling a little giddy. "I just ordered one," you said, holding up the full shot glass. You felt embarrassment heat your face when a little bit of the clear liquid sloshed onto your fingertips, but you forced yourself not to break eye contact. 

He chuckled, cheeks tinting red, and leant in a little closer. "Then let me join you for one.” 

You pretended to think it over, humming in fake consideration. When you finally nodded, that charming smile of his turned just a touch toward a smirk. He called the bartender by name when she passed, asking for a shot of whatever you were having. The woman, Penny, huffed out a laugh that sounded amused but not judgemental as she efficiently poured it and slid it over. When she walked away, he raised it to yours. 

“Cheers,” he murmured, voice low. You shivered in delight. 

“Cheers.” You downed your shot, and he followed suit. The liquor burned its way down your throat, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was the way he was looking at you.

“What’s your name?” he asked. He sat himself down in the barstool you had been standing beside, and you couldn’t help but glance down at his legs, spread in a way that you would be standing between them if you shuffled just the slightest bit to the right. His denim clad thighs were thick and looked so inviting. When you met his eyes again, they sparkled like he knew what you had been thinking. 

“What’s yours?” you asked instead. You were trying to get some of that control back that you had felt on your walk over here. You inhaled a subtle deep breath, catching another whiff of his cologne. 

He chuckled lightly, ducking his eyes and looking at you through thick lashes that you envied. Your knees threatened to give out. “Bradley,” he introduced. He extended a hand. You took it, feeling the roughness of his palm and the strength of his grip. You couldn’t help but imagine those hands on your body, exploring every inch of you. You told him your name, and hummed in appreciation, repeating it. The syllables sounded like velvet coming from his mouth. “What brings you here tonight?” 

“Oh,” you breathed. You drew your bottom lip between your teeth as you contemplated how to respond. You were proud of your decisions - of finally being free. But you weren’t sure how that would come across to a stranger you could definitely see yourself having a good time with. “Just…celebrating,” you settled on. 

“Celebrating huh? Is it your birthday?” 

“Maybe,” you shrugged, hoping it came across as playful and coy. By the laugh he let out, you thought you had succeeded. 

“Okay, a woman of mystery I see.” 

You smiled, lifting a shoulder again, not bothering to confirm or deny. 

“Alright, mystery woman. Can I buy you a drink this time?” 

You glanced over your shoulder, catching sight of all of your friends. They weren’t even trying to mask how they were staring at you, one of them even shooting you a thumbs up that made you roll your eyes. Bradley was still staring at you when you turned your gaze back to his, and you got lost in those dark honey eyes. It was sobering how quickly and intensely you were responding to him. You couldn’t remember the last time a man had that effect on you. That aspect of your marriage had been dried up long before the ink on the paper was. When the two of you finally separated almost a year ago, you had spent the time focusing on relearning who you were on your own, standing on your own two feet. You were cautious by nature, and it had been so long since you felt desire toward someone - even longer since you felt desired in return. 

But when you shifted, you felt the straps and the lace comfortable against your skin under your dress, and you realized that maybe giving yourself the opportunity to show it off that night wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Maybe your friends had been onto something after all. 

“I’d like that,” you finally said, and he was already smiling as he opened his mouth to respond, but you held up a finger to stop him. “But I have one condition.” 

“Name it,” he said immediately. He was already waving down Penny behind the bar, and his lack of hesitation was so sexy. 

“We move out of sight of my friends. I’d rather not feel them watching us the whole time.” 

The laugh Bradley let out this time was loud and free, and you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped in return. His smile turned into a devilish grin and he leaned closer like he was going to share a secret. “Deal,” he said, “and also incredibly relatable. Don’t look now, but I’m pretty sure my friends are doing the exact same thing.” 

Now that he said it, it did feel like there were multiple sets of eyes on you coming from opposing directions, and you giggled even harder. Once your drinks arrived, he stood up from his stool and offered you his hand. You had been right about him being tall, and you had to tamper down the sudden urge you felt to climb him like a tree. Instead, you took his hand and murmured for him to lead the way. You followed him closely as he led you through the crowded bar, feeling his warmth radiating off his body. The spicy scent of his cologne was intoxicating, and you found yourself wanting to breathe him in even more. 

The cool night air was refreshing once you walked through the back doors and further down into the sand. Bradley kept a tight grip on your hand as you stumbled in your heels, but luckily it wasn't too far before he stopped next to a few sunken beach chairs. 

You could still hear the music and the chatter from inside the bar, but it was quieter. There were string lights along the railing and torches in the sand that provided the slightest bit of light to where you could still easily see around you. You were far enough away that you could have privacy, but close enough to where you could easily scream and catch someone’s attention. You doubted it would get to that, but it was good to know your self preservation instincts were still working amongst all the things this man was making you feel.

It was nice out here, you decided, and before he could ask if it was okay, you were letting go of his hand and sidestepping him to sink down onto one of the oversized chairs. You patted the spot next to you as you looked up at him, and Bradley didn’t make you wait before he was squeezing onto the seat beside you. He was so close that his thigh pressed a delightful line against yours. It was all you could do not to melt into him. 

You took a sip of your drink, the cold liquid providing some relief against the heat building in you. Bradley took a drink of his own, his eyes never leaving yours, and you couldn’t help yourself when you glanced down at his lips for a second; you wondered what it would be like to kiss them. 

“Tell me something about yourself,” Bradley said, breaking the silence. 

You thought for a moment, trying to think of something interesting to say. It was almost like you suddenly forgot every intriguing thing about yourself. You glanced down at the drink in your hand, swirling the liquid in the glass. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to fly,” you decided on.  

Bradley sat up a little bit straighter, and pressed just a little bit closer. “Oh yeah?” he asked, and he sounded genuinely interested, almost excited. “Planes?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, and then couldn’t help the snort you let out. “Well my preference would be Superman style, but something tells me that won’t happen. So a plane will do.” 

He smirked a little, taking another sip. He licked some of the liquid off of his mustache, and you wanted to know how the beer tasted off of it, too. “You’d look good in the spandex tights, though. No doubt about that.” 

The line should have been gross and offensive, but coming from him, it felt like a compliment, and you couldn’t help but laugh as those butterflies erupted in your stomach again. “What about you?” you asked, and you didn’t know if it was your increasing level of comfortability with this man or the earlier tequila shot hitting your bloodstream, but you knocked your shoulder into his as you spoke. “Tell me something about yourself, Bradley.” 

His smirk fell into a soft smile, and either mischief or the reflection of the moon was making his eyes sparkle. “You won’t believe me if I tell you.” 

“Try me.” 

He leaned so close that your breath caught, and for a moment you thought he was going to stop the conversation all together and kiss you. You were ready for it, even. But instead, he leant just a little bit to the side and whispered to you like he was sharing a secret, his lips brushing your ear. “I’m an aviator,” he told you, and his proximity made it so that it took a moment for the meaning to register to you. 

“Oh my God,” you gasped, eyes wide, and he was already chuckling as he pulled away. “You fly!” 

“I do,” he laughed, the sound deep and infectious, before tacking on in further explanation that he flew for the Navy. 

“Wow,” you breathed, after he finished regalling you with more details about his aircraft and how long he had been flying, and the different planes he had gotten in the cockpit of over the years. He talked about it with a passion that you knew he wasn’t bullshitting or trying to impress you - he genuinely loved what he did. You toyed with the words before you spoke them, taking a deep breath and laying your palm on his thigh. You tried to keep your voice light and playful, despite your body humming. “Maybe you can teach me some time.” 

“I’d be happy to,” he told you, “if you think you can handle it.” 

It was a challenge, a proposition clear as day, and you knew it was your out if you wanted him to back down. But that’s not what you wanted. Not even a little bit. You swallowed thickly at how his gaze intensified. It felt like he was looking right through you like no one else ever has, and you liked it. 

“I think you’ll find that I can handle a lot of things,” you murmured, and even you were surprised at how raspy your voice came out - sexy in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. “I’m more than what I may seem.” 

“So I’m discovering.” There was a moment of silence between you, but it wasn't an awkward one. Rather, it was charged with anticipation and desire. You could feel the pull between you, and you tracked the bulge of his adams apple as he swallowed. He cleared his throat and shook his head, and it was refreshing knowing you were having an effect on him, too. He held his half full glass up to yours, clinking them together once you did the same. “Here’s to discovering more.” 

It got later and later as you sat out in the sand talking and getting to know this beautiful man sitting beside you. And the more you learned, the more you liked. He had a sense of humor that matched yours and a voice that sent shivers down your spine, and you hung onto every story with rapt attention that he returned whenever you spoke. Bradley was easy to talk to, and you found yourself getting lost in the conversation. The warmth of his body against yours was addicting, and you found yourself leaning into him even more. 

“Can I make a confession?” you asked, after a particularly enrapturing tale of racing his best friend in an F-18 and almost getting caught doing so. 

“I want to know all your secrets,” he said in return, and you almost moaned at how smooth the line was. Instead, you playfully rolled your eyes before you chewed on your bottom lip, trying to figure out how exactly to say it. He waited you out patiently, the hand from the arm he had draped across the back of the seat a little while ago tracing your shoulder so lightly you almost didn’t feel it. Your empty glasses were in the sand in front of you, but neither of you felt drunk on the limited alcohol you had consumed. 

“I told you I was out celebrating tonight,” you started, and Bradley made a noise of recognition that let you know he remembered. 

“Is it your birthday afterall?” he teased. You laughed softly at the way he put you so at ease. 

“No, not my birthday. My friends actually insisted on taking me out tonight to celebrate some news I got earlier this week.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Mmm,” you hummed, before taking a deep breath. “My divorce was finalized earlier this week.” 

If he was surprised or bothered by your words, it didn’t show. In fact, he didn’t flinch at all, just sat as relaxed as he had been all night while his fingertips continued to cause goosebumps to erupt all over your skin from their contact with your shoulder. 

“How do you feel about that?” he asked, and you couldn’t help but marvel at his nonchalance. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but you don’t think it was this. You sighed happily in response to his question, and was delighted when he laughed a little. “That good huh?”

“That great,” you corrected. You shrugged, and his hand steadied on your skin, a nice weight on your shoulder. A soft smile played on your lips. You knew you didn’t have to tell him - truly, it was probably better if you didn’t. But something made you want to be honest with him. You tried not to read too much into that. “It had been a long time since he made me feel the way a man should make his wife feel, you know? We were over way before I ever served him with the papers, which was almost a year ago now. So it was a long time coming.” 

“Enough time to get over him?” Bradley asked. Your breath caught because you swore there was something like hope in his voice. You desperately wished you were right. Regardless, you didn’t hesitate in nodding.

“I’ve been over him for ages,” you confirmed. “Just took awhile to make it official.” 

He made another noise of understanding, and leaned in closer. He lifted a hand and your heart raced wildly in your chest at the way he cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing your bottom lip in a way that made you gasp quietly. The way he was looking at you made it feel like you were the only two people in the world. 

“He was a fool for letting you go,” he said, so quietly you wondered if he meant to say it out loud. 

Bradley leaned in closer, his lips hovering near your ear. You felt the heat emanating from him, and your body responded with a shiver. "You deserve to be wanted," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. You turned your head to look at him, and for a moment, you were lost in his dark eyes. You felt a sudden urge to kiss him, to taste his lips that looked so soft and inviting. You leaned in, closing the gap between you. 

The kiss was electric, sending shivers down your spine. His lips were soft and full, and his tongue was warm and intoxicating as it slid into your mouth. You moaned quietly, feeling a rush of desire pulse through your body. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. He responded with a low growl, his hands gripping your hips tightly. You went willingly when he pulled you into his lap.

You broke the kiss for a moment, gasping for air as his tongue slid along your chin, down your neck, leaving a burning trail of heat. He bit at your collarbone playfully, smiling up at you. It was wicked and full of promise. 

He used his grip on your hips to pull you down onto him, groaning at the friction. His own hips arched up to meet yours, and your head fell back as you both let out a moan. His teeth grazed along the soft skin of your neck, and you couldn’t help but claw at his shoulders and the back of his neck as you felt the rush of heat already pooling between your legs. He was hard, you could tell, and you wanted him so badly. 

You had no idea what was happening or what was going to happen next, but it didn’t matter. All you wanted right now was to feel his body against yours. You heard his breath hitch as you let your hands roam his chest, hard and warm against your palms, the muscles firm and toned. You let your fingernails drag down his abs, eliciting a groan from him, and you grinned in satisfaction. You wanted to see more of that reaction, see more of him. 

You moved to scoot back, intending to unbutton his jeans, but he grabbed your wrist before you could. 

“Let me take you somewhere,” he murmured, and you let out a breathy laugh even as you nodded. 

“Bathroom inside? Your car?” You leaned in for another kiss, but Bradley pulled back. He cupped your face in his big hands. The pad of his thumb rubbed a smooth line on your cheek.  

“You deserve more than a quickie in a bar bathroom or a parking lot, Sweetheart. Can I take you home?”  

“Yeah,” you breathed. You were blown away at how he continued to make you feel, how he was treating you like you were worth something. You wanted him so much, and you thought it was more than just physical, even as you were aching. 

Your friends were still inside, clearly having had more to drink while they waited for you, and flirting with a few men in uniform of their own. You made quick work of letting them know you were leaving, and you didn't stick around for their catcalling as you followed Bradley into the parking lot, your hand held tight in his. You were trembling as you sank into his front seat, and you know it’s not just from the chill in the air. 

He kissed you again before he put the classic Bronco into gear, your address plugged into his GPS. His hand was heavy on your thigh during the drive, and part of you was glad he didn’t do more than let it rest there, a reminder of his presence. You weren’t sure you could handle any more without losing control.

He pulled into your driveway and killed the engine, and for a long moment, the two of you just sat there, breathing heavily as you looked at one another. Finally, after a long moment, he raised that gentle hand of his and tucked some of your hair behind your ear. 

“Beautiful,” he whispered, and his voice sounded reverent. 

“Bradley.” You let out a shaky breath, swallowing down all of your nerves. “Come inside.” 

It was a miracle that you managed to open the door without dropping your keys as Bradley kissed down the side of your neck, and you pulled him inside eagerly. You didn’t bother giving him a tour as you guided him up the stairs to your room. There would be time for that later. 

You bypassed the ceiling light to turn on one of the bedside table lamps instead, casting a soft glow throughout the spacious bedroom. Bradley was right there when you turned, the two of you moving at the same time. His hands stroked down your sides as you pressed yourself against him, his mouth hot and hungry against yours. You let out a moan as your tongue tangled with his again. You threaded your fingers through his hair, just as soft as it looked, and tugged. He hissed out a low, sexy sound of approval. 

You pushed the Hawaiian shirt off his shoulders and then tugged at the white shirt underneath it. He took the hint, detaching from you to pull it off over his head, baring his chest. You stepped back for a moment and let your eyes wander over him. He was incredible, toned and muscular, and the light dusting of hair on his chest made you bite your lip. You wanted to trace the lines of his muscles with your tongue, feel him against you. Your eyes moved down to see his erection straining against his jeans, and you licked your lips. You were so ready for him, and he was ready for you. You could tell. When your eyes trailed back up to meet his, the look he was giving you was hungry. 

Before you could overthink it, you were tugging at the side zipper holding your black dress together and lowering it. You pushed it off of your shoulders and let it fall to the ground. Bradley blinked once, his gaze inevitably dropping. His eyes widened noticeably as a deep groan tore from his throat. 

“Jesus Christ, baby.” The wonder in his voice was evident as he took in the lingerie that your friends had thrown at you earlier in the night, and you made a mental note to thank them tomorrow. 

He seemed to be struggling for breath as he swallowed and stepped forward, sliding his hands up your sides to cup your chest. His thumbs brushed across your nipples, and you moaned at the sensation, arching into him. He leaned in and kissed you again before he began to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, over your collarbone, down to one breast. You dug your nails into his scalp, whimpering as you felt his teeth tug at your nipple through the lacy fabric. His tongue teased it, flicking over the sensitive skin. And then, with no warning at all, he was lifting you up and laying you down on the bed. You raised up on your elbows as he made quick work of taking off his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. He pushed them and his briefs down all in one go until they pooled at his feet. Your eyes widened at the site. His cock was hard and huge, and you grew wetter just looking at him. 

You held out your hand without a word. He crawled onto the mattress, looming over your body as he braced his hands on either side of you. He kissed you again, his mouth hot and hungry against yours. Your hand wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. He kissed you for a long time, so long you thought you were going to be drunk off of it. When he did pull away, it was only to trail his lips down your neck, making you writhe as his mustache brushed against your sensitive skin. His mouth moved to your collarbone again, then down to one breast, and then the other. You keened at the sensation. Then his lips were on your stomach, and he shimmied himself down the bed until he was between your thighs. Slowly, he tugged your panties down your legs. He spread you wide, his eyes never leaving your center. He leant forward and inhaled deeply, groaning at the scent - your scent. He pressed a featherlight kiss to the inside of your thigh where it was settled on his shoulder before looking up at you. 

“I’m going to devour you,” he stated. Before you had any time to react, his mouth was on you. 

He was ravenous, lapping at you as if you were the best thing he’d ever tasted. You felt it all the way through your body as he moaned against you, your body writhing against his mouth. You were so hot, so ready for this man to take you. You let out a loud moan as he licked your clit, then took it into his mouth and sucked. It was almost embarrassing how quickly he brought you to the edge as his mouth worked you over expertly. 

You don’t remember the last time a man had his mouth on you, let alone made you come from it. When you came, it was hard and loud, your hands buried in his hair, his name a mantra on your lips. He crawled back up the length of your body and kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His thick cock twitched against your sensitive pussy, and the feeling of him settling between your legs was enough to have you pulling away from his kiss, breathing deeply. 

His eyes were dark with lust as he looked down at your body, and you felt your face heating up at his silent perusal. 

“I’m clean,” you whispered urgently, “if you want…” 

He answered you with a groan of your name, his forehead pressed to yours, his cock twitching. “I am too. You sure?”  You nodded, and without a word, you reached for him. You watched his face as you stroked him slowly. His eyes fluttered closed, and he leaned into your touch. He let out a throaty moan when you guided him to your entrance. 

“Please,” you whispered. His eyes opened as he slid into you, filling you up entirely. He stilled for a moment, letting you adjust to the feeling. He was so thick and hard inside of you; you felt so impossibly full. 

“You feel incredible,” he told you, still not moving, but you could feel how much he wanted to.  

“Bradley,” you begged, and he withdrew slowly until just the head of his cock was still inside of you, pressing against your clit. He slid back in again, filling you up until you couldn’t think of anything but the feeling of him deep inside of you. You could feel it all the way to the top of your head, all the way down to your toes, and you moaned as he pulled out and thrust back in again. 

His pace was tortuously slow at first, in a way that could only be deliberate, driving you crazy. You could feel every inch of him leave and enter you, over and over again. The feeling of him moving inside of you was almost more than you could stand, but still, you wanted more. You were ready to beg him to go harder, faster, but you didn’t need to as he finally, finally started to pick up the pace. You wrapped your legs around his hips as he found a steady, powerful rhythm. You cried out with every thrust, and he groaned out your name, his arms shaking with the strain of holding himself up above you. Soon, he was fucking you hard. Every thrust drove him deeper inside of you, hitting that spot that made it almost impossible to breathe. You could feel yourself getting close. 

“Come on, baby,” he panted. “Come for me.” 

You were drowning in him, and when he pulled you in for another kiss, there was so much passion you thought you might be swept away by it all. You’re not sure what to do with yourself, but you know you don’t want this moment to end. Your walls tightened around him as you let go, and you could feel him shuddering as he came with you. 

He stayed there, kissing you softly for a long time before he gently pulled out, rolling onto his back beside you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you with him. You pressed a kiss to his chest before you rested your cheek on his sweaty skin, listening to his heartbeat as it began to slow. He kissed your head lightly, and for a while, the two of you just laid there, basking in the afterglow. 

It was Bradley who finally broke the silence, and your whole body trembled at his words. 

“Rest for a little bit, sweetheart. I’m not done with you tonight.”

Your pussy clenched. You could still feel his cum oozing out of you slowly from round one, and if you were honest with yourself, you had been wet since you first laid eyes on him. You picked your head up to look at him. Your voice was breathy with anticipation when you asked, “Is that so?”

“Yes. And then, I’m gonna convince you to let me stay the night. And in the morning, after at least one orgasm, I’m gonna cook you breakfast.”

Your breath caught and a lump formed in your throat. He said it so confidently, like it was an indisputable fact. You were surprised at how much you longed for it to be just that. 

This was not at all how you had anticipated your night going. 

“And after that?” You dared yourself to ask. 

He traced your cheek with a sated smile on his handsome face, his mustache twitching and his dark honey eyes sparkling. “I told you, you deserve to be wanted. And I want you.”

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

Main Masterlist

Notes: Happy Birthday Em! Thanks for being born. Hope you enjoyed this! Now go do fuckboy things and celebrate 🎉💚

Thanks to @mak-32 for the banner and for all of her help with this!

Tag List: @roosterforme @mak-32 @wildxwidow @gretagerwigsmuse @lilyevanswhore @too-fangirl-to-fuction @fav-fanficssss @notroosterbradshaw @teacupsandtopgun @sometimesanalice @sunflowersteves @littlezee80 @je-suis-prest-rachel @khaylin27 @infamous-reindeer @hotch-meeeeeupppppp @yanna-banana @avengersfan25 @wkndwlff @sylviebell @lt-spork @indynerdgirl

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@greatszu @na-ta-sh-aaa @callsign-magnolia @chaoticassidy @thedroneranger @cherrycola27

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Forgotten Nest - Rooster

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw / Mitchell!OC (Cora)

Word Count: 3.1k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Past Unplanned Teenage Pregnancy; Angst; Absent Father Figures; The 'He Didn't Know About the Pregnancy' Trope; Repeating Trauma Cycles (Teen Pregnancy, Absent Parents, etc.); Crying; Carole Would Be Disappointed; Named Mitchell Daughter OC (Cora) and Named Mitchell-Bradshaw Son (Nickie)

Summary: Years ago, Rooster left Cora Mitchell's life when her dad pulled his papers. And, unknowingly, he left behind something other than just his toothbrush.

A.N. There are references to a previous unplanned teenage pregnancy (between two eighteen-year-olds) in this fic. There won't be any flashback scenes to the pregnancy, but the references are still there, so if that makes you uncomfortable, please do not read.

Master List

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Epilogue

Rooster walked out of the admiral’s office with his new orders clutched carefully in his hand. He kept his head held high as he walked through the narrow halls of the USS Gerald R. Ford, heading for his quarters to pack his bag and prepare to fly back to US soil. To Top Gun. To Miramar.

The Californian town had a lot of memories—some of the best and some of the worst of his life. It was the town where he lost his dad before he truly understood the gravity of it all. It was also the town where he spent his later years of high school after his mom died. Where he learned how to drive, where he graduated high school, where he had all of his firsts with a girl—now woman—whom he hadn’t seen since he stormed out of her life.

Cora Mitchell. Maverick’s daughter.

As a result of some poor decisions at nineteen, Maverick ended up with daughter only a few months younger than Bradley. Cora’s mom wanted nothing to do with her and even though Maverick was far from fit to be a father, he would have preferred falling down 100 flights of stairs than letting his child go into foster care.

Carole quickly offered to help raise Cora and help Maverick out. And as his mom used to call them, they were built in best friends. And in the later years of high school, they were a lot more than that. Sneaking into each other’s beds and spending the nights together was fairly regular and easy for them to pull off with Maverick’s bedroom on another floor.

Of course, then Maverick pulled his papers and then he left that life, and Cora, behind completely.

Rooster entered his room and shut the door behind him, heading for his bunk. His roommate wasn’t in, still doing drills with the rest of their squad, leaving Rooster alone with his thoughts. He opened the folder again, reading over the orders once more before he found his gaze shifting. Pulling out his personal bag, Rooster reached into one of the smaller pockets and pulled out a small photo preserved in laminate.

It was from a photo booth at Bradley’s senior prom. Cora sat on his lap, beaming at the camera as Rooster pressed a kiss to her cheek.

It was stupid to still be this curious about what Cora was doing with her life. After all, he was the one who broke up with her and stormed out of her life, saying all kinds of nasty things that he regretted the second that he said them. And he had to admit that he had scrolled through social media, trying to find a glimpse into her life, to no significant results.

All he knew was that she took some time off after high school and eventually graduated from nursing school. He assumed that she was still working as a nurse. And he knew that she now lived in or around Miramar. He didn’t have the guts to try and contact her when he was in town for Top Gun the first time around.

But maybe this new, and probably highly dangerous, mission would finally give him the kick in the ass to try and make things right with Cora. Even if it was just a simple apology, like a small ‘sorry,’ it would take away some of the guilt that ate away at his stomach every single time that he remembered her crestfallen expression and calls for him to come back.

Tucking the photo back into his bag, Rooster stood up and started to pack, letting his mind wander to what Cora’s life looked like now.

~~~~~

“Nicholas Peter Mitchell!” Cora thundered, marching towards the stairs, still dressed in her scrubs from work. “Get your butt down here now!”

Cora was only partially pleased to hear her son scrambling around, undoubtedly in the middle of some kind of panic due to her tone. She tapped her foot, able to picture her son’s exact expression of fear. She would have preferred that he simply told her ahead of time because then they could deal with it together, but he forced her hand by hiding it.

The sound of a door opening and a soft pattern of footsteps caused Cora to pick her head up. Her eyes narrowed when her son, Nickie, poked his head out from behind the wall with a sheepish smile. She shook her head when his expression gave away the fact that he knew exactly why she was upset. And that only caused her migraine to intensify.

“Hey, Mom. Did you have a good shift?” Nickie asked kindly, stepping out from behind the wall. “And did I mention that I love you and that you look more beautiful than usual today?”

Nickie, or simply Nick to his friends, was far from her twin. His hair was a light brown and curled at the end. His eyes were big and light brown, like someone she knew well in the past. The shape of his head and his cheekbones that were starting to emerge from the baby fat came from her side of the family, but the slope of his nose reinforced his father’s influence on his features.

But his sheepish, mischievous smile was definitely a Mitchell trait. Undoubtedly.

“When were you going to tell me that you got a speeding ticket?” Cora questioned, eerily calm despite her earlier yelling. “Today? Tomorrow? Next week? Never?”

“Mom, I already paid it off—”

“—When were you going to tell me?” Cora demanded, not amused. When Nickie fumbled for a response, Cora straightened up. “You have had your license for a month and you’ve already gotten a speeding ticket, Nickie. That’s not funny. You clearly do not understand that your car and your license are privileges, not rights.”

“It was at that speed trap under that highway pass on the way to school,” Nickie tried to explain, but Cora was not going to give him an inch of the moral high ground.

“I do not care where you got the ticket. I care that you were reckless behind the wheel of a motor vehicle. I care that you got a speeding ticket and now it’s on your record. And I care that you hid this whole thing from me.” Cora sighed, placing her hands on her hips and shaking her head at her son. “How much was it, Nickie?”

“Thirty bucks,” Nickie replied quietly.

“Well, then I think that thirty is an appropriate number of days to not need your car. And a good number of days to think about the importance of following traffic laws,” Cora stated, folding her arms over her chest. “Where are your keys?”

Nickie sighed and walked downstairs to grab his keys from the countertop. He quickly returned to his mother’s side and placed them into her open hand without a fight. Cora closed her hand and shoved the keys into her pocket.

“I’m serious, Nickie,” she stated softly, causing the teenager to turn back to her with doe eyes. “I don’t want you getting hurt. And speeding around, especially on these roads where there’s a thousand pedestrians and everything—it’s not safe. For you or anyone else.”

“I know, Mom. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you for having the maturity to realize that it was your bill to pay,” Cora offered her son in return, her tough exterior cracking just a bit. She rubbed her face tiredly. “And that’s probably what I get for letting your grandfather teach you how to drive.” Letting out a sigh, Cora dropped her hand from her face and turned back to Nickie. “How’s your homework coming?”

“Mostly done. I’ve got a test tomorrow.”

“Good.” Cora set her purse and the mail down on the countertop. “I’ll get started on dinner after I take a shower. Work on your homework and I’ll call you when I’m done.”

Cora walked into her bedroom and made a beeline for her on suite bathroom. Throwing her scrubs into her specified scrubs laundry bin, Cora quickly washed up from a long day at work. She changed into some comfortable clothes and a Navy sweatshirt before heading to the kitchen to start on dinner. The sun started to set in the distance as Cora waited for the chicken to cook.

The distinct sound of a Kawasaki caused her to look up from the oven, frowning with surprise. Walking over to the front windows, Cora was shocked to see her dad pulling into the driveway.

“What the—” Cora walked over and opened the front door, stepping out onto her front porch. “Dad? What are you doing here?”

“I thought that I would drop by since I was in town,” Maverick replied, setting up his kickstand and getting off his bike.

“Why are you in town? Not that I’m not happy to see you,” Cora added on, walking down to greet him. Maverick picked up the bag that he strapped to the back of his bike and pulled his daughter into a hug. But when she felt him wince, she instantly pulled back with a sharp, knowing look. “What happened now? What did you do this time?”

“Is that dinner that I smell?” Maverick asked, redirecting the conversation.

“You’re not getting out of this conversation,” Cora warned him, turning for her home and pulling the door open. “How many times do I have to tell you that you’re not twenty anymore? And could you at least wear a helmet once in a while?”

“Mom, who are you talking to?” Nickie yelled from upstairs.

“Your grandfather decided to drop by. Randomly,” Cora called back to her son.

A second later, there were a set of rapid footsteps echoing down the hall before Nickie appeared at the top of the stairs. His grin was immediately wide, showing the likeness between him and his grandfather, before Nickie hurried down the rest of the stairs to greet his grandfather.

“What are you doing in town?” Nickie asked, jogging over to Maverick.

“Well, I thought that it was a good idea to visit my favorite kid and grandkid once in a while,” Maverick joked, pulling Nickie into a hug despite his aching ribs

“Pops, I’m your only grandkid,” Nickie pointed out, frowning slightly.

“Still counts.” Maverick stared up at Nickie, jokingly inspecting him. “Did you get taller since the last time that I saw you? You look taller.”

“Maybe you’re just shrinking,” Nickie quipped, causing Maverick to turn to Cora.

“Don’t look at me,” Cora replied, gesturing to her own short stature. “Nickie over here got about three generations worth of height.”

Or, rather, he just had other genes to pull from when it came to height. And the men on the other side of Nickie’s family were all at least six feet tall, like Nickie was quickly shaping up to be. But not a single Mitchell in that household was going to bring that up.

Once dinner was finished cooking, the three Mitchells set the table and sat around, chatting and catching up since the last time that Maverick was in Miramar.

“I thought that you said that you wouldn’t be done with that project for a while,” Nickie stated, turning to his grandfather.

“Well, plans change,” Maverick replied noncommittally, glancing down at his plate.

“Because they were actually changed or because you felt the need to change them?” Cora deadpanned, cutting into her chicken.

“There might have been some . . . minor scheduling changes.”

“So, you’re not just visiting then,” Cora deduced, reaching for her drink. How she wished that it was wine instead of water.

“How long are you in Miramar for then?” Nickie asked excitedly, reminding Maverick painfully so of Bradley as a teenager.

“A few weeks. Somewhere around a month.”

“For what?”

“That’s classified,” Maverick replied, causing Nickie and Cora to roll their eyes in seemingly practiced sync. “I’d tell you, but—”

“—But then you’d have to kill us, yeah, we know, Gramps.”

“How’s school then? Still swimming and everything?” Maverick asked Nickie, changing the subject.

“It’s good. Swim doesn’t start for a few more weeks, but I’m trying to train before it. But I think I’m going to have to focus on running.”

“Why? Something wrong with the car?” Maverick questioned, looking concerned.

“No, just the driver,” Cora replied, setting down her utensils. “Nickie got a speeding ticket.”

“How bad?” Maverick asked, earning a sharp look from Cora. “I mean, that’s bad, Nickie. Don’t do it again. You have to get a little bit more driving experience before you start speeding.”

Cora sighed, holding her head in her hand for a moment as Nickie hid a smile behind his mouth. Maverick shot Nickie a joking smile before straightening up in his seat.

“But you’re doing good in school, Nickie?”

“Pretty well. Pre-calc is kicking my butt, but I think it’s supposed to get better.”

“Well, don’t be afraid to enjoy your teenage years a bit. Don’t go rushing off to try and grow up before your time,” Maverick replied, glancing over at his daughter for a moment. “Besides, I thought that you were going to try out for the surf team.”

“They want me to,” Nickie agreed, taking a bite of his dinner. “Mom’s a little scared to let me do it.”

“I just think that baseball is safer,” Cora replied softly, reaching for her drink. “Besides, between swim and water polo, you’re going to turn into a prune, Nickie. Not to mention that you go out sailing with Penny and Amelia all the time.”

“I just like the water, Mom,” Nickie stated, missing the pained expression on Cora’s face. “And besides, the baseball coach is an asshole.”

“Language,” Cora stressed, causing Maverick to chuckle.

~~~~~

After dinner, Nickie excused himself to finish up his homework. Cora and Maverick worked together to clean up after dinner and to set up the spare room for Maverick to sleep in while he was in town. But after the finished up the housekeeping, the father and daughter sat out on the back porch. Cora poured herself a glass of wine for the conversation and brought Maverick a beer.

“So, why are you really in town?” Cora asked, sitting down.

“Ice called me in,” Maverick stated, causing Cora to grow more serious instantly. “It’s a mission.”

“And not just any mission . . . is it?” Cora questioned, though she already knew the answer.

Ice wouldn’t have called Maverick in for just your run of the mill mission. This was a serious mission, that was certain. And that instantly caused Cora’s blood pressure to spike in an instant. Ice wouldn’t have called Maverick in unless it was something bordering on a suicide mission.

“No, it’s not,” Maverick agreed, nodding solemnly.

He looked away from his daughter for a moment, a rock settling in his stomach. It had been sitting there since a familiar face flashed on the screen in that conference room. But he knew that he had to unload it sooner rather than later.

To say that Maverick’s perspective on Rooster was complicated did not quite do it justice.

On one hand, as Cora’s father and Nickie’s grandfather, there was nothing that Maverick wanted to do more than to grab Rooster by his ear and give him the lecture of the century about responsibility and putting his personal emotions to the side to be a man and a father. Hell, if it was any other boy who did that to Cora, Maverick would have strapped him to the outside of the Darkstar and done a couple laps around the Earth.

But, on the other, as Goose’s wingman and the man who tried to raise Rooster, Maverick wanted Rooster nowhere near Miramar or this mission. Hell, Maverick did what he could to make sure that Rooster stayed as far away from a cockpit as possible. And that side of Maverick just wanted Rooster back in his life, safe and far from danger.

But being Cora’s father and Nickie’s grandfather was always the side that won out in the end.

“There’s something else,” Maverick began, causing Cora’s eyebrows to furrow with concern. “He’s involved in the mission.” Cora noticeably tensed up as Maverick added, “He’s here.”

“In Miramar?” Cora asked quietly, earning a nod from her dad. Sighing, she held her head in her hands for a moment. “Fuck.”

“Did you tell Nickie—”

“—No,” Cora interjected, cutting Maverick off. “No, I didn’t.” Not . . . not the whole story." She stared out at the backyard, out at the little swing set that Maverick and Ice built for Nickie on a warm afternoon so many years ago. “He’s supposed to be out in the middle of the Atlantic right now.”

“And I’m supposed to be in the Mojave.”

Nickie sat with his back to the wall, silently listening in on his mom’s conversation with his grandfather. He knew that it was wrong and he knew that he was already on thin ice with the speeding ticket, but he knew that his mom and his grandfather went outside to talk where he couldn’t hear them. But his mom always seemed to forget that the bathroom window was right above the patio.

“Have you seen him yet?” Cora inquired quietly, causing Maverick to nod slowly.

“Yeah, I did. Briefly. At the Hard Deck.”

“Did he see you?”

“I don’t think so, no,” Maverick replied, shaking his head.

Cora let out another sigh and held her head in her hands again. Maverick quickly got up from his seat, setting aside his beer and pulling his daughter into a tight hug. Cora latched onto her dad, trying to calm herself down and not shed anymore tears over Bradley Bradshaw.

But she failed. Just like she did the last thousand times.

Nickie clenched his eyes shut and curled his hands into fists. His mom was the strongest person that he knew. Life threw a thousand things at her and she somehow always managed to keep herself and him on their feet. But the second that anyone brought up his dad, she always flipped a switch.

She always broke down or went into absolute survival mode until something else snapped her out of it.

Nickie stopped asking about his dad when he overheard his mom sobbing to Penny in the middle of the night about how his dad still wouldn’t return her calls. It happened years ago, nearly a decade now, but it was still fresh in his mind. Burned there for the rest of his life. And, well, if his dad couldn’t even give his mom three seconds of his life, then Nickie wouldn’t give him an ounce of energy either.

And, hell, Nickie was a mama’s boy. And anyone who made his mom cry was dead to him. Dad or not, the fucker who never showed up for him or his mom was dead to Nicholas Peter Mitchell.

Whoever the hell he was.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Epilogue

[thewulf]

Not So Subtle || Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Summary: How about Bradley throwing a small get together and getting plastered because he’s sad he doesn’t think the reader loves him like he loves her. So he starts saying random things instead of I love you...Read Rest Here

A/N: Tiny Smidge of Angst / Some Tension / All Fluff - Thank you for the request @loving-and-dreaming !! So much fun to write :)

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Y/N

Word Count: 3.2k +

“Hey pretty girl.” Bradley’s bright smile drew your attention from the loud music and the group of pilots over to him. He stumbled slightly as he made his way towards you. He was drunk. Utterly wasted. But that didn’t stop the creeping smile that came over you.

You pinched his side, “You said you weren’t drinking that much before I got here Bradley. Now I’ve gotta catch up with you. You’re fucked up!”

“Hey!” He giggled. Fucking giggled. Oh, he was definitely messed up. A special kind of fucked up. A state of him you rarely got to see but one you adored. Bradley was already sweet on you but when de drank? Oh, he thought the world of you. Really, he always did. But the alcohol gave him the liquid courage to come out with it. He’d known you for over ten years of his life. He’d loved you for almost all of them. Not that you knew. Not that he’d ever dream of ruining the beautifully crafted friendship he had with you.

So, you the two of you balanced on that line. Never teetering for anything more. Perfectly balanced. What Bradley didn’t know was that you’d wanted the same as him. For just as long. When he was assigned as your lab partner all those years ago you knew it was fate. You knew Bradley was meant to be in your life for a long time, if not forever.

“I was too tempted by the Jack. You know how much I love Mr. Daniels.” He held up the red solo cup he’d probably had five or so drinks from already.

“I should’ve known.” You squeezed his hand before heading to the kitchen looking for something of your own. He followed behind you quickly like a little golden retriever puppy looking for a snack. He’d found such comfort in you. And that’s what he wanted right now. Comfort. His little light.

“I’m sorry.” He frowned wrapping an arm around your waist lightly. As if making sure that it was alright with you. When you didn’t protest as you poured your drink and turned around into him.

“It’s okay RooRoo. I forgive you.” You winked right at him knowing that’d get some sort of rise out of him. But it didn’t tonight. He only kept smiling at you. Like you could say no wrong. Do no wrong. It was normally so fun to innocently tease him when he’d had a few too many. Maybe he’d had one too many or something. He was giving you that look. That look that took your breath away. The one that looked like he was in love with you.

It seemed too good to be true. You’d been silently loving him from afar. You were always there to comfort him after breaking up with a long-term girlfriend who you never thought was actually good enough for him. Or some short-term thing with a girl you’d thought was twenty times prettier than you. You still didn’t think them good enough though. Truth be told you wouldn’t find many women worthy. You weren’t even sure if you thought you were. You’d wished for his love, but you didn’t really think you’d deserved it.

“You know.” He leaned forward taking another step in. Pinning you against the counter. The barrel of jungle juice sitting behind you. It was only a matter of time before somebody would shoo the two of you away. The people needed their juice.

As fucked up as he was he was flirtier than ever. He knew exactly what he was doing too. Never pushing anything too far. Always making sure you were comfortable. Checking in to see if you were enjoying yourself before pressing on. He was a gentleman through and through. Not even the alcohol seemed to lower those inhibitions. It just pushed him to see if you felt the same as him. Maybe that’s why he kept drinking far too many whiskey rye’s before you’d arrived. He knew the alcohol gave him that courage. He was tired of waiting. Hiding behind a parade of meaningless affairs that always left him wanting more. Wanting you. Craving you. Needing you.

“It’s cute when you call me that. RooRoo” The line they were tight roping was starting to wobble. Was he going to cross it? Jump into the deep end and swim far, far away from the friend zone?

Your brow quirked up in surprise, “Oh really?”

He nodded quickly catching a whiff of your perfume. Your intoxicating perfume that drove him absolutely mad. Had him thinking wicked things in his head. Wicked things he wouldn’t be thinking about if you were just his best friend. No, you were so much more, and you didn’t even know. He knew he needed to tell you for his sake. He’d go mad here soon if he didn’t.

“Super cute. Only when you say it though.” His eyes scanned your face for you reaction. He felt relieved seeing your eyes light up a bit. Your smile grow a bit taller, “Nobody else can.”

You laughed softly at the overly intoxicated man. Who knew if he’d even remember this in the morning? Odds were not in your favor, “I’m going to hold you to that moustache man. No whining when I use tomorrow.” You poked his chest with your index finger. He was so tall. So much taller than you. And when he stood this close? You were craning your neck up to see his reaction.

He pinched your hip where his hand was resting, “I think that’s fair pretty girl.” You smelled the whiskey on his breath as he leaned down to make sure you heard what he had to say.

“You’re laying it on thick tonight Roo.” You felt a fire where his hand was resting so nonchalantly on your hip. God, he was so damn close. Did he know? He was drunk but he had to know what he was doing to you. Driving you absolutely mad and shit.

He shift his weight towards his front foot ever so slightly. You noticed though. He was that much closer, “Can’t help it. You’re the prettiest girl in this room.”

You wished the damn counter would give you a little space. He was oh so overwhelming. It’s ironic how many times you’d wished this would happen and here it was, happening. And you were starting to freak out, “Let’s get you some water?” You laughed grabbing his hand from your hip guiding him to the sink.

He sighed when you turned away to fill up an empty solo cup for him, “Do you want to watch a T.V. show together?”

Turning back to hand the cup to him your grinned, “Sure. What were you thinking Bradley?” You knew he wasn’t ever going to remember this. It was far too random of a conversation and his mind was reeling from all the alcohol he’d consumed.

He pursed his lips thinking hard, “Let’s watch something happy. Like you. You’re so happy and bright and cheerful and pretty… Like New Girl.” He took the water from you chugging it down knowing it’d make you happy. All he really wanted to do was make you happy.

This time you giggled. He was on another level right now. You were dying to know what’d gotten into him, “New Girl it is then. We’ll watch it when you get home from work tomorrow, yeah?” You were really thankful that you’d decided to become roommates with him the year prior. You’d always been best friends but living together kicked it up a notch. The guys would always joke that you were already dating. Bradley would always tell them to mind their own business. You’d always feel a little dejected. Because it was damn near impossible to date when you lived with another guy. They’d all felt horrifically insecure about the entire set up.

He nodded lazily, “Wanna eat pancakes for dinner with you too.” He set the cup down on the counter taking that oh so bold step forward again.

What the hell was mixed in that drink of his? But you’d play along. Even if he’d never remember you loved his sweet touches, bold moves, and desirable glances, “We can do that if you want. Can even do the whole breakfast for dinner if you want.”

He nodded so quickly. So damn quickly, “I want to make you pancakes for dinner.”

Phoenix had shown him the song by Lizzy McAlpine simply because she was sick and tired of seeing one of her very closest friends fuck it up time and time again. Rooster had all but admitted your undying love for you. You’d all but done the same for him. She knew the song would get to him. Rooster had the softest spot in his heart for you. He was your fiercest protector. So, when Phoenix said, ‘This is about Y/N.’ and played the song before he could even protest he had to listen. Curiosity got the better of him.

He knew deep down she was right. The song was practically a ballad written by him for you. What if his plane did go down on a mission? It wasn’t likely but it surely wasn’t impossible. What if he went down without you knowing. That ripped his heart right to shreds when he thought about it. Life was way too fucking short to sit on the sidelines and wonder. Even if you rejected him you’d still be his best friend. Deep down he knew that. He also knew you wouldn’t reject him. He knew you loved him dearly. More than as a friend. He knew it.

“If you remember. I’d love to eat your pancakes Roo. I’m partial to blueberry chocolate chip pancakes if you can manage.” You winked up at him. Might as well ruffle his feathers while his synapses were slowed.

“Blueberry chocolate chip pancakes for the most beautiful woman in the world. Got it.” His grin leaned sideways as he swayed. He hadn’t had a drop of alcohol in the nearly thirty minutes he’d been with you, but he was feeling something else. High on you. Your presence always brought the goofiest of him out. His truest form. Where he felt the most confident and comfortable. God he loved it. Loved you more than life itself.

“The whole world now? That’s quite an upgrade from the room.” You smirked at him. He seemed so lost in his world but so sincere at the same time.

He shrugged placing a hand on either side of you on the counter behind you. He literally had all the control now. He was boxing you in fully, “It’s true. You’re so pretty Y/N.” He so desperately wanted to kiss you, but he knew better. That was a line he couldn’t cross right now.

Your palms felt so sweaty. What was going on with him? “What’s gotten into you, RooRoo?”

He shook his head, “What if there’s an accident? I needed to tell you. You’re the prettiest girl Most beautiful woman. Smartest person I know. I love you. I’ve been too stupid not to tell you, but I love you. With everything I am, I have.” He trailed off at the end losing a bit of the confidence he’d been trying to build all night.

The color must have drained from you immediately. It felt like all the blood had been drained right from your body. This was one of those life changing moments. One that could quite literally change the course of the path you were on, “You love me?”

“So much. Love you so much.”

“Oh, wow.” You took a moment feeling claustrophobic as he hovered over you. He wasn’t expecting you to say it back. Not by any means. He’d thrown a curveball out of left field right at you, “Are you sure?”

He laughed. A full hearty chuckle. Like what you asked was the dumbest thing in the world, “I may be drunk but I still know what I’m saying Y/N. I’m positive. I love you.”

You nodded your head slowly feeling all the emotions all at once, “Can we talk about this tomorrow? When we’re both sober?” If he even remembered. Would he even remember something like this? This was massive. Huge. Life-changing.

He pulled a hand away from the counter and ran his thumb along your cheek, “As we eat pancakes for dinner?”

You nodded leaning into his touch just slightly, “I like that plan.”

“It’s a date.”

He didn’t give you a chance to dispute before giving you a quick forehead kiss and disappearing off into the party. You shook your head taking a big sip of jungle juice. Tomorrow was sure going to suck but you were planning on having a good Thursday night with the crew. It was rare they didn’t have to get up at the ass crack of dawn. You weren’t a pilot. You were a nurse on base. You and Bradley had almost followed each other around. You’d jumped for joy when you saw your next assignment was at Miramar. That’s when you moved in with him. He practically demanded you stay with him. And it worked. The two of you were nearly inseparable now. He said it. You believed it. You just needed to hear it sober now. Did he actually mean it? Did he really love you?

The next day was a blur. Bradley was already gone by the time you rolled out of bed. You had a split shift today. 10-6. You could do it. You’ve worked plenty of shifts hung over. You were slow moving, that was for sure. When you made it downstairs you grinned seeing the note and Advil bottle on the counter, ‘Take four of these for that headache. See you tonight. RooRoo.’ Your heart sped up a beat seeing the nickname he signed, RooRoo Did he remember? Could he have remembered that entire conversation?

You’d long since forgotten about the note you hid in your room. It was too damn cute to throw away. The day was stressful. A training mission went wrong, and three guys came in banged up. No Bradley, thank God. But it meant for a busy and long day. Six PM couldn’t come soon enough.

There was so much damn traffic on your way home. By the time you parked it was already 6:45. Ugh. What a day. A hangover. A mini emergency. Thank God it was Friday. Bradley didn’t usually get home until late. You didn’t even clock his car parked out front. He’d made it his mission to beat you home today. That’s why he was gone so early even though he wasn’t required.

It only hit you that he was home once you walked through the front door smelling something sweet coming from the kitchen. You peered around after setting you work bag down spotting Bradley flipping some pancakes while listening to some music. He fucking remembered. He remembered it all. It hadn’t even registered in your dumb brain what you’d do if he remembered.

“Pancakes.” You laughed pulling him out of the cooking trance he seemed to be in. He hadn’t even heard you come

“For dinner.” He grinned setting the spatula down slowly walking towards you, “How was your day pretty girl?”

Your cheeks betrayed you as they surely turned a shade of pink. Why’d you have to blush so damn easily? It’s not like he’s never called you that before. It just all of the sudden had an entirely different meaning, “Not so subtle, Bradshaw. Are we?” This was your one attempt to give him an out.

He shook his head walking over to take the pancake off the skillet, “Could’ve sworn I told you that I loved you last night, no? What’s there to be subtle about sweetness?” He walked back over taking a step closer to you this time.

If your cheeks weren’t flaming tomato red by now they sure had to be close. Sweetness? He was throwing all caution to the wind now. He was letting you make the decision now. He was making it very, very clear how he felt about you.

“You remember?”

He did the same thing he had done the previous night and placed his hand on your face. Running his thumb along your cheek bone. Sending shivers ripping down your spine, “Pretty girl, I’d never forget. I love you. I want to have pancakes for dinner. Watch that T.V. show with you and talk about us. If that still sounds good to you?” He asked so gently you had to wonder if you were dreaming. Was this real? Was he real? Was this finally happening? Could your dreams really be coming true?

It all hit you at once. Squeezing your eyes shut you hadn’t even realized there were tears escaping your eyes. Happy tears. Beyond happy tears. The happiest of all tears. Bradley Bradshaw loved you tears.

But Bradley frowned. He didn’t know why you were crying. He’d never seen you cry now that he thought about it. Did he fuck up? Misread the signs? Did he ruin this forever?

“Y/N, I’m so sorry…” You cut him off before he could continue

Shaking your head quickly you continued, “No, no.” Sucking in a breath you tried to explain, “They’re happy tears. I’ve… I’ve wanted to say that to you for so long Bradley. So, fucking long. I love you too. Love you so much.” A few more escaped running down the expanse of your cheek before he brushed them away. His frown turning to a bright smile.

It registered for him in that moment too, “How long?”

Giving him a shaky laugh, you replied, “Since college.”

“Oh, Y/N.” He leaned in giving your cheek a kiss. Right where he whipped away the runaway tears, “We’re both so stupid.”

You ran a finger along the side of his face when he pulled away. You were looking at him in an entirely new light. He’d always been Bradley your best friend. He was becoming Bradley your best friend and lover. The man you’d start a family with.

“You’re not stupid Bradley.”

He leaned down and kissed your other cheek the same, “I’ve loved you for just as long. What’s that? At least eight years? We’re stupid.”

You giggled leaning into his chest. Feeling him for the first time. Smelling the fresh scent of his body wash mingling with his natural scent a little too well. Bradley always smelled so good to you. Now? Now he smelled perfect. Fucking heavenly. It’s like your senses got kicked up a notch the second he admitted his love. You were looking at an enhanced Bradley Bradshaw. If that were even possible.

When you pulled back had to bite your cheek to suppress the grin, “We were testing out our friendship. How about that?”

He nodded pulling you back into his embrace, “My girl. Let’s get you some dinner and put New Girl on. How does that sound?”

You nodded you head into his chest, “Sounds perfect, Bradley.”

His arms encircled your body into his, “After I hold you for a minute, if that’s alright.”

“That sounds even better.” You cooed feeling drowsy in his arms. Feeling the warmth, love, and protection. You just knew you were one of the luckiest girls in the world. The first night of the rest of your life.

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