#bradley does count here too

[bleaksqueak]

So I'm finally getting around to reading Solivaga and as you said you dont mind comments, I have to tell you, you cannot imagine the outrage I felt when "random passerby A" called Elias a "creep with blight". How dare you call our cute baby a creep, random passerby!! Hes precious and adorable!!

Ohhoho!! I'm happy to hear you're reading! And, see, I know that, and you know that, but teens can be cruel... especially in that sort of setting (especially, especially when he's getting in the way of them ogling a Handsome Reaper.) Although Elias himself might not be helping his situation all that much, either... Hrm. Gonna have to talk to that boy.

[drabbles-mc]

It's Inevitable

Bob Floyd x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, language, pining, alcohol

30 Fic Challenge with prompts from This List: rubatosis- the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: i had the most ridiculous about of fun writing this for Bob. i adore him more than words can say 🥰

Bob felt like he had been living in a constant state of disbelief ever since he met you. From the day that the universe, or more specifically Bradley, put him into your orbit, all the events that followed felt like one little surprise after the other. He considered himself infinitely lucky for it.

When he mentioned to Bradley off-hand that they were going to have him stationed in California for a while, long enough for him to justify looking for his own place off-base, he had just been making conversation. They had just been talking about next moves and Bob felt like it was fitting, mentioning that he was going to be looking for a place, maybe even a roommate since it was going to be on relatively short-notice.

“If you’re cool with a roommate, one of my buddies actually kinda needs one,” Bradley mentioned off-hand as they racked up for another pool game at The Hard Deck.

Bob perked up slightly at that. A roommate recommendation from someone he knew seemed preferable than the alternative. He figured that Bradley wouldn’t have brought it up if it was a recipe for disaster.

“Yeah?” Bob tried to sound interested, but not too much so. There were no real guarantees, after all.

Bradley nodded before leaning down to break for the start of the game. “Yeah. Funny because we were just talking about how putting out a Craigslist Ad felt like signing up to be on an episode of a True Crime podcast.”

Bob chuckled at that. “Kind of does, yeah.”

Bradley watched Bob take his shot, not allowing the amusement he was currently feeling to show on his face. “I can introduce you guys. Wanna meet back here Friday? When Trace is done making an example out of you to the newbies?”

There was no malice to Bradley’s statement, so Bob had no problem laughing right along with him. When the laughter died down, Bob agreed to the meetup suggestion. There was a tentative feeling of hopefulness in his chest. After all, if this person was friends with Bradley, how bad could they really be?

~*~

You buried your face in your hands as you shook your head. When Bradley had asked to stop by because he had news for you, you didn’t think he was stopping by to tell you that he had gone out hunting and gathering a new roommate for you. You hadn’t asked him to do that—you hadn’t asked him for anything in regards to your living arrangements, actually. And that’s exactly what you’d told him when he said he’d found you a brand-new roommate.

“I don’t even know this guy.”

Bradley laughed and shrugged as he hopped up to sit on the edge of your kitchen counter. For how comfortable he was, you were surprised that he hadn’t taken the opportunity to move in after your ex moved out. He treated your apartment like it was his own house anyway.

“I know him. That’s not enough for you?”

You shot him a look over your shoulder as you went and grabbed a can of soda from the fridge. “No. It’s not.” You tossed him his own can before getting one for yourself. “You saw what I went through getting the last man out of my apartment—why are you inviting another one in without telling me?”

He laughed as he watched you dramatically swing the refrigerator door shut. “Okay, come on, you can’t compare him to—”

“I can’t compare him to anyone because I haven’t met him.”

“Well if you’d let me get to the end of my story, you would have the solution to that problem.” He paused and waited for you to motion for him to continue before saying, “I told him we’d meet him at The Hard Deck Friday night.”

“I should flatten this can against your skull,” you said with a semi-affectionate roll of your eyes.

There was a long pause, one accompanied by a smirk on Bradley’s face that had no real right to be there. “I’ll pick you up?”

Letting out a deep sigh, you gave in with a nod. Worst case scenario, you wouldn’t walk away from the night with a new roommate but you’d at least get to throw a couple drinks on Bradley’s tab. That was worth a little bit of something.

~*~

Bob was checking the time on his phone, his beer on the bar barely touched. When he’d texted Bradley earlier in the day, everything was still going how it was supposed to, so now he just had to sit there and wait. He could do that.

When he heard the door to the bar open, he turned and looked out of habit. He saw Bradley walk in and he felt his shoulders relax in relief. When he focused enough to see who it was that Bradley had walked in with, though, his relief was almost immediately replaced by confusion. The two of you were talking, laughing as you wove through the other people in the bar, but it still didn’t sink in with Bob that you were the ‘buddy’ who was in need of a roommate. For a moment he was just assuming that you were a girlfriend tagging along that Bradley had failed to mention.

Bob almost got up out of his seat when the two of you stopped in front of him—the only thing that kept him in place was the lingering sense of confusion. He looked back and forth between you and Bradley. He had no chance at guessing what exactly your expression meant, but he’d seen the smug look on Bradley’s face enough times to know that there was something afoot. It wasn’t the time to ask, though. Not in front of you.

“So,” you broke the silence with an easy smile, “I hear that Bradshaw promised you my second bedroom?”

Your comment got a chuckle out of Bob, something to ease the tension a little bit, not that it did anything to quiet the chaos in his head at the moment. It did earn you a shoulder-bump from Bradley, who was shaking his head at you. “I didn’t promise him anything. He said he needed a spot, I said I had a friend who needed a roommate.” He shrugged. “All true.”

You gave a dismissive roll of your eyes before returning your attention to the man sitting on the barstool watching all of this unfold. As you introduced yourself, you wondered if the slightly bewildered expression on his face was a constant one, eyes a little wide behind the lenses of his glasses, nervous smile pulling at his lips.

The three of you made a few minutes of small talk before you ducked out for a moment to answer a phone call from work. Both men watched you as you walked away, and as you were bringing the phone to your ear, Bradley turned to try and pick apart the expression on Bob’s face.

“So?” he asked, leaving it as open-ended as possible.

Bob pried his gaze off you so that he was looking at the man standing next to him instead. He shook his head slightly. “You didn’t say—you made it seem like—” He pushed his glasses up his nose, a nervous habit he had yet to shake.

Bradley laughed. “C’mon, she’s not that bad.”

“I didn’t say she was,” Bob corrected him quietly. “She wouldn’t rather have…you know…”

It was impossible for him not to at least chuckle at the way Bob was skirting around the things that he wanted to say. “She just wants someone who doesn’t make a mess and who pays rent on time. And who won’t eat her leftovers out of the fridge.”

“Last one sounds like you.”

He clapped Bob on the back with a grin. “That’s why I’m not the one moving in.” He paused, and he could see the thoughts going at a mile a minute in Bob’s head. “I wouldn’t have said anything if I didn’t think you guys would hit it off.”

Bob wanted to make a comment to the effect of, “That’s kind of what I’m worried about,” but you reappeared before he could.

You plopped down on the stool beside his, giving a quick apology to the both of them. Looking back and forth between them, you wanted to ask what they’d been saying in your absence, but you had a feeling that if you needed to know, Bradley would tell you in the car on the way home.

Moments after you sat down, Penny materialized with a drink for you, and she handed a bottle to Bradley as well. You thanked her, amused that Bradley actually was letting you rack up his tab. Once you took a sip, you turned to Bob.

“So, is this the part where we get to play Twenty Questions?”

He laughed as he shrugged, fingers drumming against his leg. “I guess so.”

You smiled as you nodded. “Alright.” You motioned for Bradley to sit down next to you. “Bradshaw can play referee.”

~*~

Three weeks later the moving truck was parked outside your apartment building and there were boxes piling up in what had previously been a spare room that was sometimes your office, but more often just a place for all of your clean but unfolded laundry to hang out.

Bob was timid those first couple of weeks living together. It was endearing in a way that you hadn’t expected—most of Bradley’s friends from the Navy didn’t seem to be wired like that. Bob was a nice change of pace from it all. Every time he wanted to move or add something somewhere, he always asked, always had that same little nervous smile on his face when he did.  You never told him no.

The first month or so of living together was just a big old learning curve. You learned that the two of you ran on different rhythms and schedules. Bob was an early bird, whether that was by choice or necessity you never asked. You were a night owl, though. Always had been. Luckily, you also learned that Bob was a heavy sleeper and that he was quiet in the morning when he was getting ready, so the two of you didn’t infringe upon each other much.

You learned that Bob liked to cook, was good at it even, but still hadn’t mastered how to just cook for one. That was how he learned that you had no problem doing the dishes if he was okay with sharing his food. He never told you no either.

Bob learned that most of your spare time was spent with your nose in a book or a notebook splayed across your lap while you wrote. He only ever asked once what you were writing, and when you gave him the vague answer of, “Stories,” he gave you a smile and a nod and went back to ironing his uniform. You learned that the only times Bob stayed up late was when he was playing videogames with his friends. Most of them were from the Navy, some of them were from back home. You knew which ones were which because his Navy friends had their callsigns in their gamertags—so original of them. That was also how you learned that a good handful of his friends in the Navy weren’t very good at first-person shooter games, which was deeply ironic given their professions.

By the time the third month of living together had come and gone, Bob also learned that he was falling in love with you a little bit. Or a lot. The amount of it didn’t matter, he supposed. None of it was going to help him.

~*~

You enjoyed living with Bob more than you thought you were going to. You had been willing to settle for a roommate that you could at least tolerate. You just needed someone that you could exist in the same space with sometimes when necessary. But after those first couple of weeks, it felt like almost all the time that the two of you were home at the same time was spent in the same space. Or you’d be in the living room while he was in the kitchen. You’d been ready to hole up in your room a little more often, but it never felt like you had to.

Bradley was as incessant as ever, arguing that he now had twice as many reasons to drop by unannounced now that Bob was living with you. You both knew that it was an argument you’d never win, and it wasn’t as though you didn’t enjoy his company too. By the time the first month passed, Bradley had lightened up on his weekly inquiry of, “Is this guy givin’ you any trouble?” You all knew that he never was.

You’d been waiting for the day that the surprised look would fade from Bob’s face whenever you got home, or emerged from your room, but it never did. From surprised, to smiling, to going back to whatever he’d been doing before you got there. Round and round again.

Bob never thought about how many different names he had until the two of you really got comfortable around each other. Most of the time he was Bob, which was what he was used to both on and off the base. That was the status quo.

But every now and then you’d switch it up. Like if he startled you coming home from his early-morning run, or if you didn’t hear him walk into the kitchen from his room. Then you’d call him Robert, in that fake-chastising tone that always had you trying not to laugh. Or sometimes, when he was getting frustrated about something that didn’t really matter too much in the grand scheme of things, you’d hit him with a little pat on the shoulder and a, “Calm down, Lieutenant Floyd.” And in moments like that he could hear it in your voice how long you and Bradley had been friends. If you tried to get his attention more than twice and still didn’t have any luck, that’s when he’d hear a sing-songy callout of Bobby coming from the other side of the apartment. That one always got both of you laughing.

You could’ve called him damn near anything, though, and he would’ve come running. He wondered how long he’d be able to keep his mouth shut about it all.

~*~

The two of you had been living together for six months the first time he put his foot in his mouth about it. His only saving grace, if he could even try to call it that, was that he’d said it to Bradley and not directly to you.

It made Bradley completely miss his shot in their game of pool, but he didn’t even care. He stood upright, pointing at Bob from across the table with his pool stick. “What was that?”

Bob’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull. He didn’t need a mirror to know that his face was turning beet red. He could feel the warmth racing up the column of his neck and into his cheeks. “N-nothing. I didn’t—nothing.”

Bradley’s grin was so wide it was a wonder his face didn’t crack clean open. “That was something.” He walked over, paying no mind to the fact that Bob was trying to look at anything but him. “She know? You say anything to her?”

Now it was Bob’s turn to miss his shot. His heart was beating fast enough that he thought it might short-out and stop working. If Rooster was trying to get some eye contact out of him, it certainly did the trick.

“No.” Bob’s answer managed to come out clear and timid all at once.

He leaned back casually against the edge of the pool table. “Why not?”

Bob shook his head, gaze dropping to the floor. “’Cause we’re roommates.”

“So?” Bradley let the look of disbelief on Bob’s face act as a response, and he continued. “You should tell her. Want me to tell her?”

Bob’s eyes popped open so wide that Bradley was shocked they didn’t break the lenses of his glasses. “Please don’t.”

“Want me to do some recon?” He stood upright again, no longer using the pool table for support. “Find out if she’s—”

“No.”

He chuckled, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. None of this was surprising to him, really. He knew it from the second that Bob saw you when the two of them walked into The Hard Deck that day. He was honestly a little surprised that it took this long for Bob to slip up to him about it. The kid looked like a pressure cooker ready to explode.

“She hasn’t dated anyone since you moved in, has she?”

Bob shrugged. “No one that she’s brought around, at least. But she also just broke up with—”

Bradley waved off the sentence before Bob could even finish it. “That was almost eight months ago.” He paused, knowing that he had the answer to the question he was about to ask but it wasn’t going to stop him from asking it. “You’re not seeing anyone else, right?”

The red in his cheeks got a little darker but he didn’t say anything, instead just shaking his head.

“So I’ll ask her,” Bradley said, like that was the only rational response to the evidence laid out before him.

“Don’t ask her.” Bob’s statement was somewhere between an order and a plea, not hitting either note quite right.

Bradley held his hands up in surrender, but the smirk still lingering on his face didn’t make the truce feel too believable. “Alright, fine. I won’t say anything. But, if you change your mind,” he lined up his next shot, “let me know.”

~*~

Bob never brought it up again. Truthfully, he was still kicking himself for letting any of it slip in the first place. He kept waiting for another comment, another question from Bradley. Anytime that he came over to the apartment, Bob felt himself get a little more on-edge. When he could hear the two of you on the phone, he couldn’t stop the way his heart started to beat a little faster. He kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Bradley to open his mouth and say something.

Weeks ticked by with Bob waiting for the other shoe to drop. You’d get home, or hang up the phone, and he’d sit there with bated breath. He’d try to look like he was focusing on his laptop, or the gaming controller in his hand, but he’d be watching you in his peripheral.

And, of course, you never said anything about it. Bradley apparently never said anything about it. For all the buttons that he liked to push, Bob couldn’t deny that he was surprised that his friend was managing to keep his mouth shut about this one. Maybe that was because Bradley had the feeling it was a lost cause. Bob tried not to think about it too much.

He definitely tried not to think about it on nights like tonight, when both of you were camped out together on the sofa. The original plan hadn’t really been for the two of you to watch a movie together—Bob had gotten home later than usual and you were already about ten minutes into the film when he walked through the door. He’d had every intention of just showering and going to bed, but when he saw you curled up on the couch, throw blanket across you and an oversized bowl of popcorn in your lap, suddenly sleep didn’t seem like such a big deal.

He’d leaned over the back of the couch, a smile stretching across his face as he said, “Gonna share that or should I make another bag?”

You yelped in surprise, nearly tossing the bowl full of popcorn in the process. “Robert!” You laughed, hand resting over your heart like that would get it to slow down. “You can’t do that when there is a serial killer on the screen.”

He cracked a grin. “Sorry.”

You held the bowl up for him to reach easier. “I will share though, despite your entrance.”

He’d grabbed a couple pieces of popcorn before walking off towards his room. “I’m just gonna get changed.”

“Okay.” You tossed a piece of popcorn up in the air and caught it in your mouth. “Hurry up before someone else dies.”

Now here you were, the only thing separating the two of you was the bowl of popcorn between you. Bob was paying enough attention to the movie to know what was going on, but he’d be lying if he tried to say that most of his attention was still going to you. Something about the fact that you’d chosen to put on a scary movie and yet you still seemed shocked every time something scary happened.

Like you were reading his thoughts, you spoke up as you half-covered your eyes. “I don’t know why I do this to myself.”

He chuckled. “We can put something else on.”

You shook your head. “No, no. I’m committed now. I need to know what happens.”

His smile grew a little wider, the rapid beat of his heart having nothing to do with what was happening on-screen. “Want me to tell you what happens?”

You looked over at him. “You’ve seen this before?”

He shook his head. “No, but I can probably still tell you what happens.”

You rolled your eyes but you were still smiling, still blocking part of your view of the television on purpose like that would stop the things on screen from happening. “Very funny.”

“I think—”

Whatever he was going to say next got lost somewhere between his brain and his lips because you were placing the bowl of popcorn in his lap and scooting closer to him. You leaned so that your head was resting against the outside of his arm, throw blanket pulled up to your chin. Your legs were pulled up onto the couch, half-curled underneath you as you situated yourself against him. There was no hesitation in any move that you made, and Bob was trying to figure out if he was dreaming, and if he wasn’t he was trying to figure out how to not spontaneously combust.

“If this gets any worse,” you said, looking up at him for a moment, “then I’ll ask for your predictions.”

He was glad it was dark enough in the living room so that you couldn’t see how red his face was. All you could really see was him nodding, the reflection of the television on his lenses. “O-okay.”

The two of you managed to make it to the end of the movie, but you were practically curled so far into him that Bob thought you were just going to melt right into his arm. He didn’t mind it—he wished that the movie had dragged on for a little longer.

When the credits started to roll, you let out a deep sigh of relief but you didn’t peel yourself away from him. Bob couldn’t help but to let out a quiet laugh. “This why I’ve never seen you watch a scary movie before?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Like, twice a year I try to convince myself that I don’t get that scared.”

“It’s working real good, then,” he joked.

You laughed, blanket still pulled up over your shoulders. “I’d say so.”

He reached for the controller. “Want me to put something less scary on?”

You nodded, reaching out of you blanket cocoon to grab a handful of popcorn. “Yes please.”

He was expecting you to pull away once there was a comedy safely playing on-screen. He waited for the warmth of you and the blanket you were buried under to disappear. But it didn’t. You stayed there just like that, casually stealing one handful of popcorn at a time till there was nothing but kernels left.

You made it halfway through the next film before you looked up at him again and said, “You’re up way past your bedtime.”

He laughed softly and shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”

Just as he finished saying that, he yawned. You smiled. “You sure about that?”

He felt his face heat up. “I’m good.”

“Slumber party rules, you know. First one to fall asleep gets it.”

He felt himself melting back into the couch cushions a little more, body finally starting to relax more from tiredness than anything else. “What’s the punishment? Sharpie mustache?”

You laughed, resituating against him as you did. “No, no. That’d be too mean—can’t have you walking around looking like Bradshaw.”

~*~

When you woke up in the morning, you were still on the couch. Alone. You had a pillow propped nicely underneath your head and rather than the throw blanket that you’d been using during the movie, you had a real comforter draped over you. It took a moment for you to put it all together.

You got yourself half upright, propped up on your elbows. Through half-open lids you looked around the apartment, the kitchen and the living room. You could see that it was empty but even so you called out a groggy, raspy, “Bob?”

When you were met with silence, you fell back against the couch again. Dragging your hands across your eyes, you tried to wake yourself up a little more. You stared up at the ceiling, watching lights and shadows fly across it as cars drove by your building. People who were up and about much earlier than you.

You weren’t sure how much time you’d spent simply lying there debating whether or not you wanted to get off the couch and attempt to salvage what was left of your morning. Just as you were getting ready to peel the blanket off you when you heard the sound of keys in the lock on your apartment door.

For a moment you about to sit upright, but then you could hear how quietly and slowly he was trying to enter the apartment. All those mornings sneaking in quietly after his runs so he didn’t wake you, and this was the first time you were not only awake, but ready for it. You heard him toe off his shoes, heard the rustling of a bag that you were desperately hoping had donuts or bagels inside of it.

You were so busy being excited by the sound of iced coffee rattling against its cup that you almost missed the sound of Bob murmuring to himself. You couldn’t quiet make out what he was saying exactly, only that he was whispering to himself as he set things down on the counter. Waiting a moment, you strained your ear in hopes to get a better idea of what he was saying.

When he stopped talking altogether, you sat upright. His back was to you as he pulled the drinks from the tray they were in, opened up the bag of pastries he’d grabbed. You smiled at the sight of him, a warm flutter in your chest.

“Got enough to share?” you piped up.

For once it was Bob’s turn to flinch, to spin on his heel in shock. His eyes were wide, paper bag clutched tightly in his hand. He was certain that if his life had been a cartoon you would’ve seen the outline of his heart beating in his chest.

“Um, yeah.” He nodded, holding up one of the coffees as though to prove he was telling the truth. “Yours.”

Standing up off the couch, you kept the blanket wrapped around you like the most oversized shawl you’d ever seen as you padded over to where he was standing in the kitchen. Reaching out, you took the iced coffee from him, a smile on your face as you took a sip. It was impossible to miss the way that Bob was looking at you, looking like he had something to say. You waited for it, but it never came.

“Rehearsing lines?” you asked casually as you reached for the bag he was holding.

It seemed to snap him out of the trance he was in. “What?”

You pulled out one of the donuts in the bag. “When you came in,” you took a bite, “thought I heard you talking.”

His eyes widened a little bit, cheeks starting to flush pink. “Oh.”

You smiled, tilting your head. “What?”

He picked up his own cup of coffee. He stared at it for a moment, swirling it around to buy himself a few extra seconds. His heart was beating so hard that he was expecting it to cause ripples in the coffee he was holding.

“I, um,” he cleared his throat, looking you in the eyes, “yeah.”

You set your coffee down, suddenly feeling a little foolish with the blanket wrapped around your shoulders. “You okay?”

He nodded. “I’m okay.”

Your smile was soft, warm. “You sure? Looking a little wistful over there.” You saw the way a few sentences started and died on the tip of his tongue. Your lips started to dip down into a frown. “Bob?”

“I really, uh, I really like…living here with you.”

Something akin to relief was creeping its way across your chest and you allowed yourself a small smile. “I like you living here.” You tilted your head slightly. “Why do you look so worried about that?”

He managed a chuckle of sort. “Because,” with each word he tried to get out, he felt like his heart was going to beat clean out of his chest, like his ribs weren’t strong enough to keep it in place, “I don’t want that to change.”

“Why would it?”

“I love you,” he blurted out. “I…I love you.” The blush on his face darkened and he gave a weak smile. “That’s not how I rehearsed it.”

You let out a laugh, one that was choked with emotion. It felt impossible to get the words out that you wanted, like they were all getting stuck in the back of your throat. You could see it on Bob’s face that he was trying to come up with the next thing to say.

Before either of you could implode, you collapsed the distance between you and kissed him. The blanket that had been around your shoulders fell to the floor as your lips caught his. There was a split second of hesitation, but once Bob realized that it was real, that this was all happening, he wrapped his arms around you. His hands splayed across your back, pinning you tight to him.

Your fingers threaded into his hair, leaning into him until he was snug between you and the counter behind him. Bob soaked it is, the way it felt to have the warmth of your body pressed against his. He was certain that this would be the time you’d hear his racing heartbeat, be able to feel it since you were so close. For once he hoped that you would.

You pulled away, just enough to be able to get a good look at his face. He brought one hand up to fix his glasses, the other staying on the small of your back. You toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck as you tried to commit everything about how he looked in that moment to memory.

“I love you too,” you said, voice soft when you finally had it in you to string the words together.

You saw the smile on his face and then you felt it as he kissed you again. It was all laughter and soft touches and wandering hands. Months of bottled up feelings starting to reach the surface. With your palm resting against his chest, you could feel the speed of his heartbeat, but he didn’t seem nervous now. For a moment you were surprised to find that you weren’t nervous either. Then you felt the pad of his thumb against your cheek as he pulled you in for another kiss and you finally felt like you were home. And there was nothing more comforting than that.

(divider by @firefly-graphics)

Top Gun Maverick Taglist: @garbinge @proceduralpassion @justreblogginfics (If you want to be added to any of taglists please let me know!)

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Danger Zone (Part 20) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 3.8k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY.

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Military Inaccuracies; Medical Inaccuracies; Crying; Angst; Family Drama; Deployments; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: You go into labor.

Series Master List

Master List

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Penny cooed, grabbing your hand and giving it a squeeze. Wiping your tears, she gently touched your shoulder so that you would look at her. “It’s going to be okay. I know it’s scary, but your daughter is coming, and you'll finally get to meet her.”

“But she’s early. She’s not supposed to come yet. She’s still got at least another week,” you whimpered, clutching your bump protectively as more tears streamed down your cheeks. “And Jake’s not here yet.”

“I know, he's not," Penny replied softly, trying to calm you.

"And I can't do it without him!"

"Honey, we need to go to the hospital right now." Penny was still soft with her voice, but there was an edge of force there too. "Your water broke. So, we have to go. Okay?" And though you were still crying, you didn't fight Penny as she led you back to your bedroom. "Come on, let's get you into some clean clothes and then we'll go."

Penny gave Maverick a look before closing the door behind her. He moved to grab a mop and clean up the fluid. Hastily pulling out his phone, Maverick pressed on Bradley's name before balancing his phone between his ear and shoulder.

“Hey, Mav, what’s up?” Rooster asked, picking up on the third ring.

“Has Jake landed at base yet?”

“No, I think he’s still a few hours out. Why?”

“Her water just broke.”

“Are you shitting me?” Rooster questioned quietly. 

“No, I’m not. And she’s already upset and crying. Penny’s getting her ready for the hospital."

"Has she mentioned him?"

"She said that she can't do it without him."

"Jesus Christ."

"Check with Cyclone about Jake.”

“I’ll go now and call you back.”

“Alright, I’m going to be driving them to the hospital.” Maverick glanced at your bedroom before turning back to his conversation with Rooster. “Penny's taking care of her."

"I'll try my best to get him there as soon as possible."

Maverick hung up the call and turned to see Penny leading you out of your bedroom. He jogged over and grabbed the hospital bag before standing on your other side. You were still silently crying but didn’t fight them as they pulled you out to the car. 

“I’ll move the car seat to the back for now," Maverick stated, pulling it out and putting it in the trunk.

Penny got you situated in the backseat before climbing into the back on the other side. Maverick closed the trunk and ran around to start the car. You leaned back in your seat and closed your eyes as tears streamed down your cheeks. Penny rubbed your back as Maverick pulled out of the driveway and headed for the hospital.

"You're going to be okay," Penny assured you, giving your hand a squeeze. "Just focus on your breathing."

“Traffic is horrible,” Maverick cursed, taking a right down a side road. 

“They’re doing all of that construction,” Penny sighed, turning to you as you let out a whimper. Timing your contraction, Penny held your hand. “We’ll get you there soon.”

"Why couldn't she wait?" you whimpered, staring down at your bump. "Why does she have to come now? When he's not here."

"Babies come when they're ready, not when it's convenient," Penny replied softly, rubbing your arm.

Maverick glanced back in the mirror at you and his heart broke at how defeated you looked. All he could do was hope that the baby wasn’t in a rush and that Jake would land soon. 

“I need Jake,” you cried, causing Penny to hug you tighter into her side. "I need him. I can't do it, Penny."

“You can do it, Honey. It's going to be alright. Jake will be home soon, and he'll be right at your side as soon as he can."

“It’s not fair,” you sobbed, causing Maverick’s jaw to lock into place. “It’s not fair.”

~~~~~

Rooster strode through the halls of NAS North Island with a determined look. He shared a short conversation with Cyclone’s secretary before hurriedly knocking on the door. Cyclone called for him to enter and Rooster stepped inside. Giving Cyclone a half-assed greeting, Rooster didn’t pause until he was standing in front of Cyclone’s desk. 

“What’s wrong, Rooster?”

“How far away is Hangman?”

“About two hours as a guess. Why?” Cyclone asked, leaning forward.

“My sister’s water broke. She’s on her way to the hospital right now,” Rooster explained quietly, tension radiating off of him. “And I’m trying to figure out if her husband’s going to be there for her or not.”

Cyclone nodded and turned to his computer. Typing in some quick commands, he turned back to Rooster. 

“His ETA is a little less than three hours.”

“Three hours?” Rooster repeated dejectedly. It was clearly not the answer that he was hoping for. 

“Is she progressing quickly?”

“I don’t know. I’m still waiting for Maverick to call me.”

“Unfortunately, there’s nothing else we can do to get him here earlier. But you have clearance to be there waiting for him. I’ll have him dismissed immediately, given the circumstances.”

“Thank you, sir.”

~~~~~

You were led to a wheelchair and slowly sat down. Maverick quickly pushed you into the hospital. Penny ran alongside the two of you and held the door open. You were immediately admitted, and Maverick and Penny waited out in the hall while you were assessed.

“Rooster says that Jake is three hours out,” Maverick sighed, causing Penny to nod slowly. “Cyclone’s dismissing him as soon as he arrives. Rooster is going to bring him here. I just hope that the traffic isn’t too bad, and this kid isn't in a rush.”

"I'm worried about her, Pete," Penny stated quietly, resting her hand on her chest. "She hasn't been herself for weeks."

"I know," Maverick sighed, rubbing his face. "I don't know what to do. If we tell her that he's coming, she might get better, but if she has to deliver the baby sooner, she's going to fight it. And if we don't tell her, and Jake gets here after the baby's born, I'll feel like I betrayed her."

"Let's not jump to decisions right now," Penny replied, causing Maverick to nod. "Let's just wait and talk to the doctor and see how she's doing."

When the doctor stepped out of the room, Penny and Maverick quickly turned to her. She walked over and greeted them before getting straight to business.

"She's about five centimeters dilated now. Her blood pressure is a little high, but we're monitoring it. The baby is healthy. After talking with her, it sounds like she was in early labor since yesterday evening." Penny and Maverick shared a look before turning back to the doctor. "I'm assuming that she didn't tell you?"

"No, she didn't," Maverick stated, resting his hands on his hips.

"Has she expressed any fear of labor to you or anyone else?"

"Not exactly."

"Her husband is deployed," Penny explained quietly. "She hasn't really been herself since he left and we're worried that she's going to try and fight labor because he's not here."

"I see," the doctor replied, nodding slowly.

"He's coming home today, but we didn't tell her before her water broke. We're worried about telling her now."

"How far away is he?"

"A little more than two hours probably," Maverick stated, causing the doctor to pause for a moment.

"How fast is she progressing?"

"She'll deliver in a few hours, if she keeps going as she is now."

"A few hours?"

"Somewhere between three to five, I would guess."

"Shit," Maverick sighed, rubbing his face again.

"Can I check on her?" Penny asked, causing the doctor to nod and walk off. Turning to Maverick, she squeezed his shoulder, knowing that he was going to run off and try and get Jake here sooner. "Get him here, Pete."

"Just keep her as calm as you can. And if the baby has to come, the baby has to come."

They shared a quick kiss before heading to their separate missions. You were laying on your hospital bed on your side, clutching something to your chest. There were several monitors hooked up to you and Penny walked around the bed.

"How're you doing?" Penny asked softly, brushing her hand down your back.

She paused when she looked down and saw that you were clutching one of Jake's shirts. Your nose was buried in the fabric, and you were clearly trying to soothe yourself with it.

"She's coming," you replied quietly.

"She is," Penny agreed, nodding slowly. "It'll be alright."

You didn't respond and simply closed your eyes and held Jake's shirt to your chest as you tried to regulate your breathing.

~~~~~

Jake stared out at the wide blue sky in front of him. Trying to not get antsy and pull a Hangman, as Rooster would have said, Jake took a breath. Glancing at the photo of the two of you as you held up a picture of your ultrasound, Jake nodded to himself before turning forward once again. 

“I’m coming home, Honey. Just a little longer.”

~~~~~

You stared at the ceiling as the nurse walked off. It seemed that your daughter would be arriving in a few short hours. Resting your hands on your bump, you simply sat there, staring blankly ahead. 

“We haven’t even picked a name yet,” you told Penny softly. “We couldn’t decide on one.”

“What about a middle name?”

“Caroline. For my mom.”

"Of course," Penny stated, watching your expression worriedly. "But don't worry about her name right now. It's a big decision. And there's nothing wrong with thinking carefully about it."

“How did you decide on Amelia?” 

“Amelia Earhart,” Penny stated, causing you to raise an eyebrow. 

“I thought your ex was a sailor?”

“He is, yeah.”

The two of you shared a small smile and laugh. But as the humor faded and you were left with the realization that Jake wouldn't be there to name your daughter with you, you worked yourself up all over again.

“I don’t want to have to name her without him,” you whispered, your voice breaking again. 

Penny got up and pulled you in for a hug, whispering soft words as you let more tears fall. You took in a shaky breath and curled against her chest, already emotionally drained. 

“He should be here. He should get to be here. He wanted to be here.”

Penny rocked you gently and stared out the window, hoping that she would see the Bronco driving down the road towards the hospital. Giving you another squeeze, she held you by your shoulders and offered you a reassuring motherly smile. 

“He loves you. And he loves your baby. And I know that he’s going to come home to you as soon as he can.”

~~~~~

Rooster paced anxiously as Hondo stood behind him, keeping an ear to the radios. Jake’s plane was due soon and Rooster wasn’t able to sit still with the knowledge that your labor was progressing quickly. Holding his hand to his chin, Rooster kept his gaze to the ground and his feet constantly moving to occupy himself. 

“They’re starting the landing sequences now,” Hondo told Rooster. 

He turned and stared at the approaching planes. Holding himself back until he knew that it was safe to approach, Rooster strode forward with the ground crew. And then he started running when he spotted Hangman climbing out of his plane. 

“Hangman!” he yelled, causing Jake to pick his head up sharply. “Let’s go!”

Jake jumped down the ladder, hearing the urgency in Bradley’s voice, and hurried over.

“What’s wrong?” Jake yelled, reaching Bradley quickly.

“Her water broke. She’s in labor,” Rooster told him as they both ran, causing Jake to freeze for a second. 

“She’s not due for another week and half!”

“Take it up with your daughter! And get your ass in gear!”

~~~~~

“Fuck, it hurts,” you sobbed, rocking your hips as you buried your face in your arms. 

You were bent over the hospital bed as your contractions grew more intense. You felt like you could barely stand when your contractions hit now, which only meant that your daughter was even closer to being born. Letting out another whine of pain, your grip tightened on the bed.

“Breathe. You’re doing so well,” Penny coached you, helping you rock your hips. “You're doing amazing."

Penny helped you straighten up as the contraction ended. You took a moment to steady yourself and let the pain subside. Penny pulled out her phone when she felt it buzz and saw Maverick’s text. She read through it quickly before moving to help you again.

She didn’t speak, knowing that you were trying to focus. But Jake was coming. He was on his way. He was coming to be here for the birth of your daughter. 

~~~~~

“This is your definition of a short cut!?” Jake complained loudly.

With the heavy traffic built up in front of them, Jake held his hands to his face and let out a groan of frustration. With the highway a disaster due to construction, they decided to take back roads. But so did everyone else. They had been stuck at this same light for two full rotations and Jake felt like he was going to scream. Actually, he was already screaming.

“I told you that you should have taken a left!”

“It was impossible!” Bradley snapped back, focused forward. 

“Then let me drive!”

“So that you can get us into an accident!? No!”

Jake tugged at his hair, trying to keep calm. But he was rapidly failing. You were only a few miles away, in labor with your daughter, and he came all of this way, and he was still going to miss it. Because of stupid traffic. 

“Move!” Jake and Bradley yelled as soon as the light turned green. 

~~~~~

Closing your eyes, you breathed in and out as you listened to soothing music, trying to prepare yourself for the next part. 

“Everything looks good,” your nurse told Penny, who smiled and nodded in thanks. 

Penny walked around to the side of the bed that you were facing, and her expression softened when she saw that you were cuddling one of Jake’s shirts again, trying to soothe yourself with the lingering scent. Looking out the window, she sighed. 

“Get here quickly, Seresin.”

~~~~~

“Should I just run at this point!?” Jake yelled, sitting up in his seat. 

“It’s five miles!”

“I’ve run further!”

“This is still faster,” Bradley countered, causing Jake to huff and hold his head in his hands. 

“I can’t just sit here like a useless asshole while she has our baby!”

“I’m not asking you to just sit there! Just calm down!"

“Would you be calm if our positions were reversed!?”

“On the outside, yes.”

“Bullshit!”

“It’s not bullshit!”

While Jake and Bradley continued to bicker, a Kawasaki pulled up alongside them. Maverick looked into the Bronco and frowned when he saw Bradley and Jake arguing, completely ignoring him. He revved the engine, but it didn’t seem to get their attention. 

“Jake!” 

“We should have just stayed on the highway!” Jake argued loudly. 

“Bradley!”

“I’m trying the best that I can! Why don’t you try navigating for once!?” Bradley yelled back. 

“Hello!?”

Getting off of his bike, Maverick stalked forward and banged his fist on the glass, causing Jake and Bradley to finally turn to him. Bradley lowered the window down as Maverick shot them both a look. 

“Are you two finished?”

Jake hopped out of the Bronco got onto the back of the Kawasaki without another word. Maverick sped down the street, weaving in and out of traffic, and heading straight for the hospital. 

~~~~~

Penny squeezed your hand when she noticed how terrified you were. Your daughter was coming into the world shortly whether you were ready for her or not. 

“I can't do this,” you whispered shakily. “She can’t be coming now. I’m not ready. I can’t do it.”

“Of course, you can do it.”

“No, I can’t! I can’t do it!” you sobbed, looking absolutely stricken with fear. “I want to go home, Penny! I can’t do this!”

“Yes, you can,” Penny replied more firmly. “Hey, you’ve been preparing for this moment your whole pregnancy. You took the class, read the books, and you made a plan. You’re ready to do this. You can do this. You’re stronger than you think.”

“She can come another day.”

“No, she can’t. She’s coming today. And I know that’s scary. Believe me, I was terrified when I was in your position. But then Amelia was born, and all of that fear and pain disappeared. Because I had my beautiful daughter in my arms. And you’ll get that moment too. And I’ll be here with you for it, okay?”

“She better not have his big fat head," you cried out.

~~~~~

Jake jumped off the Kawasaki and ran into the hospital. Maverick had informed the front desk people about the situation, and they quickly got him checked into the ward.

Rushing down the hall, Jake weaved in between nurses, patients, and family members, searching for your room number. Penny stepped out of your room and waved for him.

Jake hurried the rest of the way down the hall. You sat up on your head, confused at why Penny rushed to the door. But when your husband appeared out of seemingly nowhere, still in his flight suit, you couldn't help but burst into tears.

"Jake!"

He rushed to your side and pulled you in for a hug. You latched onto your husband, sobbing tears of relief and joy as he pressed a series of kisses to your head. Turning his head, Jake gave you a soft and loving kiss before pulling back and resting his head against your own.

"You're here," you breathed out, cupping his cheeks with your hands. Like you weren't convinced that he was real.

"I'm here," he assured you. "I thought that I would surprise you. But it looks like Baby Girl surprised us first."

"She is your daughter, after all."

Penny smiled at the interaction and looked down the hall to see Maverick walking over with a bag for Jake. He stood beside Penny as you and Jake talked softly, sharing a kiss every few seconds.

"I think I'll just leave this on the chair," Maverick joked, causing Penny to smack him lightly on the chest.

"He made it?" the nurse asked, looking into your room.

"He made it."

Jake reluctantly left your side for a moment to change out of his flight suit and take a quick shower to get the smell of jet fuel and sweat off of him before returning to your side. Maverick and Penny said their goodbyes before you and Jake were left alone.

Your contractions were growing more intense and closer together and not even fifteen minutes after Jake arrived, your nurse assessed you one last time.

"I'm going to get the doctor. You're fully dilated."

Jake squeezed your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it as the nurse hurried off. More people started to walk into the room to get you prepped for delivery, but your eyes never left Jake. He leaned over a pressed a kiss to your forehead.  

"She's coming," you breathed out, holding tightly to your husband.

"She is," Jake agreed, trying to keep his voice level. "And I'm here for you through the whole thing, alright? You let me know what you need me to do and I'll be there."

"I know, Jake," you replied, smiling nervously. "I love you."

"I love you too," Jake stated, pressing a kiss to your wedding band. "Let's meet our daughter."

~~~~~

In the waiting area, your family sat around anxiously for news about you and the baby. They were all lounging around, guessing about your status, when the nursery tune played overhead. 

“You think that was them?” Maverick asked Penny.

“It could be. We'll have to wait a little longer to find out.”

~~~~~

"She's here!"

You let out a choked sob, leaning back against the hospital bed as the doctor lifted your daughter up so that you could see her. Jake stood, frozen, as the doctor placed your daughter down on your chest for some skin to skin.

Cuddling your daughter, who was still screaming at the top of her lungs, you laughed incredulously, tears blurring your vision. You held her little head to your cheek, turning to Jake with the most lovestruck expression he had ever seen.

Jake, breaking out of his frozen state, slowly straightened up and pressed a kiss to your lips. You smiled up at him before turning back to your daughter.

“She’s here,” you croaked out, laughing incredulously. “Holy shit, she’s actually here.”

“You did amazing,” Jake praised you, staring down at your daughter with a sense of awe. “She’s . . . she’s so beautiful.” Pressing another shaky kiss to your head, he added, "She’s perfect.”

The next few minutes was a bit of a haze, but soon enough, you were cuddling your daughter to your chest again. Resting your hand on her back and keeping her secure, you smiled to yourself and took in the moment. You looked up at Jake, and smiled, almost feeling like you were on cloud nine.

"Do you want to hold her?" you asked softly.

"Of course, I want to hold her. But did you want more time with her?"

"Just hold your daughter, Jake."

Jake sat down in a chair and a nurse brought your daughter over to him. He took off his shirt and accepted your daughter into his arms. The nurse gave him some quick instructions before stepping back to give the two of them their first moment together. You smiled as you watched them from your bed.

"Hi, sweetheart," he breathed out softly, not wanting to startle her. Gently running his finger through her short hair, Jake sniffled as he felt her move against him. "I can't believe you're finally here." Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he held his head there for a moment. "I love you so much, sweetheart. And I promise you that I'll tell you that every day that I have."

Your daughter stuck her tongue out at him, causing Jake to smile to himself, before turning back to you. 

“I guess it’s not just the two of us anymore,” he stated softly.

“No,” you agreed, looking down at your daughter. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

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[bradshawssugarbaby]

Can’t Help Falling In Love - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

summary: -> When your newborn daughter can't sleep one night, Bradley knows just what to do.

A/N: Here’s a little blurb I did for @ohtobeleah’s Galentine’s Day challenge 🩷 This song is one that I sang/sing to my own baby, so I felt really inspired to just write some wholesome fluff with Bradley as a new dad singing it to his baby, and his wife 🩷

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x fem! reader

warnings/content: sickly sweet fluff with Bradley as a new dad and being romantic.

word count: 1k

“Shall I stay, would it be a sin, if I can’t help falling in love with you?”

You padded down the hallway to where the sound of your husband’s soft, melodic voice was echoing from. You entered your infant daughter’s room and smiled softly as you saw Bradley cradling baby Sawyer in his arms, humming softly to her as he kissed her head. You stood in the doorway, leaning against the wooden frame as you looked on, Bradley none the wiser as you watched him comfort your baby.

“Take my hand, take my whole life too, for I can’t help falling in love with you.”

Bradley shut his eyes delicately as he held Sawyer’s tiny body close to his chest, continuing to hum the notes of his favorite Elvis song in a soft, hushed tone as he rocked back and forth in an effort to lull his sweet girl to sleep. Bradley turned towards the door and opened his eyes to see you. His expression softened, melting into a sweet, content smile, his amber coloured eyes gazing at you from behind his thick, dark eyelashes that you’d always been envious of.

“Hi honey, sorry, Sawyer didn’t wanna go down, was just tryin’ to sing her to sleep. My mom used to sing this to me when I was a kid, she always swore it worked. Guess my dad used to sing it too,” Bradley huffed a soft, melancholic sigh as he thought back to his own father and how he had so little to remember him by, having passed just a month after Bradley turned two.

“It was sweet, I love hearing you sing,” you murmured quietly as you cozied up to Bradley’s side, smiling softly while you pressed your lips against his cheek in a tender, loving kiss.

“I think Sawyer likes hearing me too, she settled right down while I was singing to her.”

“That’s because you’re soothing her. She loves you and loves the sound of your voice, feeling you hold her close, it makes her feel safe.”

“It does?”

“Mhmm, you bet it does.”

Bradley smiled proudly as he glanced over at you, still hugging Sawyer close to his bare chest. Stroking her back gently, he pressed his lips to her forehead once again, gently kissing her as she snored softly. His pajama pants hung low on his waist, his toned, tan skin dotted with freckles. He never slept with a t-shirt on to begin with, but the minute he read that letting a newborn sleep on your bare chest was beneficial to the baby, he started to forgo wearing one at home at all. He dove all in, head first, the moment he found out you were pregnant, determined to be the kind of father his dad would be proud of, the kind of father his dad would have been if he’d had a chance to do it for more than two years.

Baby and parenting books had begun appearing throughout your home shortly after you’d told him, multiplying slowly, one by one as they began to collect on the shelf, magazines about raising children suddenly coming in the form of subscriptions to your door on a monthly basis. Bradley had begun coming home from a day of training, spouting off new ideas for names, suggesting whatever he heard or came across that day. He was as involved as anyone could hope for, his determination to be someone who made you proud, made his baby proud, and would have made his parents proud serving as a driving force to motivate him. On one occasion, you came home from spending a day out in the city to find every piece of nursery furniture perfectly assembled, waiting for your direction as to where you wanted it placed. As nervous as Bradley was about making you proud, there was never a single doubt in your mind about it - he was meant to be an excellent father, just like he was meant to be an excellent pilot. It was just who he was.

Bradley gently laid Sawyer down to sleep in her crib, smiling down at her as she stirred for a second, holding his breath as he hoped she stayed sleeping. As she continued to snore softly, he exhaled, relieved she was still sound asleep. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling your body in close to his as you both watched Sawyer in complete awe, almost unable to believe something so small and sweet could have come from either of you.

“Now, Mrs. Bradshaw, we’ve forgotten something important about today,” he whispered softly, stroking your hair as he tucked it behind your ear, his touch delicate and gentle.

“Hmm?”

“Valentine’s Day. We forgot it. I didn’t even remember to bring flowers home for you.”

“We did? Are you sure?”

“Positive. February 14th.”

You stifled a laugh as you shook your head, smiling at Bradley as he showed you today’s date on his phone screen. He kissed your forehead gently, his lips hovering for a moment as he hummed.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“There’s no need. Sawyer’s a pretty great Valentine’s Day gift.”

“She’s two months old, hun, I don’t think you having our baby counts as your gift.”

“Sure she does. You just gave her to me a little early.”

“More like you gave her to me. I didn’t do much.”

You extended your hand out to stroke Bradley’s cheek fondly, beaming as your eyes met his.

“You gave me her. Without you, I wouldn’t have Sawyer. And I wouldn’t have a loving, wonderful husband either. And, I wouldn’t get to hear you sing all the time.”

“Oh, you like the singing?” Bradley smirked, playfully whispering as he led you out of the room, pulling the door closed quietly behind you.

“I do, in fact.”

“Well then, honey—“ Bradley began before taking a breath and beginning to sing once more.

“Wise men say, ‘only fools rush in’, but I can’t help, falling in love with you.”

[vivalas-vega]

unexpected / bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader

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

unexpected / bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader

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

word count: 3.2k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[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!

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[mynameismckenziemae]

can i get 2. ☆ { putting } a hand over their mouth to be quiet and 20. ☆ { riding } them with bob?? lots of bob😅

🫣

Seriously someone needs to take my phone away. I think I blacked out while writing this.

I’m going to do this as a part 2 to this ask (sneaky pool sex with Bob).

“Shhhhh,” Bob shushes you, pinching your bottom harshly as he sits up against the headboard, “quiet now, Jake and Bradley are in bed.”

“Hurts,” you whine softly. Your thighs are drenched from your arousal, clit swollen and aching from the countless times he brought you to the edge and denied you at the last second.

“Get up here,” he snaps his fingers, making you jump when you don’t move, “now.”

“It wasn’t my fault,” you whisper, wincing as your thighs rub together when you climb on his lap.

“I told you not to cum, but you did anyway,” Bob replies sternly as he pulls you forward to line you up with his cock, “how is that not your fault?”

“You were touching my-oh God,” you cry out, eyes rolling back when he pushes you down, impaling you with his hard-on.

“I told you to be quiet,” he growls lowly, slapping a hand over your mouth. Your eyes widen as you whimper pitifully. “Now ride me.”

You nod your head as you lift yourself before sinking back down.

“At least you listen to that,” he says as you find your rhythm. “Watch it,” he scolds when you nip his palm still over your mouth.

His free hand finds your nipples, giving each mean pinches and rough tugs. It does nothing but get you hotter, your arousal now soaking the trimmed hair at his base.

He finally relents when each nipple is warm and puffy, oversensitive from his torture, but you shake your head frantically when he slides his hand down your stomach. There’s no way you can hold back any more if he touches your clit.

“If you cum now, your count will double when we get home,” he warns, fingers hovering over your sensitive bundle of nerves, “I’ll fuck your pretty ass after too; make it so won’t be able to sit properly for days.”

The thought alone has you toeing the edge, even though your thighs are burning from the exertion. He would never give you more than you could handle or make you hurt more than you wanted; he loved giving you spankings almost as much as you loved getting them, and the two of you had already been playing with plugs, getting you ready to take him back there.

He groans as you tighten around him at his words, “should’ve known you’d like that idea.”

He rolls his eyes dramatically at your eager nod, but his lip quirks as he touches your clit.

His hand muffles your hoarse scream, and your vision goes white from the intensity of your orgasm.

“Oh fuck,” Bob groans, unable to hold back any longer from the sight of you falling apart above him.

[katsu28]

to the moon and back

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x reader 

summary: bradley tries to surprise you with a Valentine’s Day date night, and you surprise him right back with something else 

warnings: none! just 2k of lovey dovey fluff

a/n: happy early valentine’s day besties!!! if u don’t have one ur gonna be mine now ok MWAH love u to the moon and back ;)

navigation

There wasn’t supposed to be anyone in your apartment right now. 

You lived alone, and the only other person who had a key to your place was your boyfriend, and Bradley was meant to be on base all day, so when you got home today and saw a pair of shoes that weren’t yours nudged off to the side of the front door, you were entirely confused. Bradley’s Bronco wasn’t parked in the driveway like it usually was when he came over, but those were most definitely his shoes. 

“Bradley? You here?” You called warily, toeing off your own shoes. Normally, he’d respond immediately, oftentimes barreling out of wherever he was to come wrap you in a hug, or (no matter how much you pretended to hate it) grabbing you from behind as you went looking for him, peppering your neck with kisses until you begged him to stop. 

There was no answer, but an assortment of things were spread out on the kitchen counter when you made your way there—a bouquet of flowers, a few bags filled to the brim with groceries, a bottle of wine—but no Bradley anywhere to be found. 

It wasn’t until you ventured towards the living room that you found him. Bradley was sprawled out on the couch, long legs thrown over the armrest on one side while his head laid propped up on a pillow at the other end. His arms were crossed over his chest, mouth hung slightly open whilst he snored away, blissfully unaware that you were home. 

As cute as he looked sleeping, you perched at the edge of the couch, giving his shoulder a gentle nudge so as not to startle him awake. When that didn’t work, you pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek. 

Bradley inhaled a deep breath at the feeling of your lips against his skin, craning his neck to take in his surroundings as he blinked awake slowly. 

“Mornin’, stranger,” You hummed, smoothing his hair away from his forehead. His bleary eyes focused on you, widening instantly. 

“Oh fuck!” He breathed, jumping a little in his laid back position. 

“Hi to you too, Bradley.” 

“Sorry. I mean, hi. It’s just—shit, I was gonna surprise you when you came home.” 

“Oh don’t worry, I was. Y’know, when I gave you a key, I didn’t mean use it so you can take a nap on my couch,” You teased. 

“I didn’t mean to!” He groaned, dragging both hands down his face. “I had this whole Valentine’s date night thing planned, I got wine and flowers and I was gonna make dinner, but I sat down for literally just a second and now…” 

“Hey, Valentine’s Day isn’t over yet. We can still do that,” You hummed, lacing your fingers through his with a pat to his knee. 

“Yeah, you’re right. Or,” he sat up suddenly, lunging and pulling you on top of him in one fell swoop, “we could just stay here on this couch all night, doing…stuff.” His nose rubbed against your cheek, lips following soon after in an attempt to bribe you to stay put. 

“While ‘stuff’ does sound very enticing, I’m actually kinda hungry, so…” Bradley was up in a split second, hefting you over his shoulder with ease. “Bradley!” You squealed, clutching at the hem of his shirt for leverage as he hiked over to the kitchen and planted you on one of the barstools. 

“You, stay right there. Do not let that cute butt leave that stool until I’m done here, got it?” He ordered, pointing at you with raised brows. You nodded, propping your chin up in your hand with a barely contained smile. He shuffled towards one of the cabinets, grabbing a wine glass and popping open the bottle he’d brought, pouring you a nice glass then cracking open a beer from the fridge for himself. 

He expertly located a vase in a different cabinet and filled it with water before sliding all three items across the counter to you. “These are for you, by the way.” 

“You know my favorites.” Your smile grew even wider at the thought, if at all possible. Bradley knew you well enough to get your favorite flowers and wine without even having to ask.

He snorted, seemingly offended that you dared mention it. “‘Course I know your favorites. It’s like, at the very front of my brain, all the time. The most important stuff, y’know?” 

“I feel like the most important stuff should be Navy related, no? Mister flies-a-multi-million-dollar-jet for a living.” 

“Yeah, that’s important too. But tell me who knows all your favorite things off the top of their head? You don’t even really have to tell me because the answer is me.” 

“Okay hotshot, if you’re such an expert, what’s for dinner?” 

He rattled off your favorite meal and dessert immediately, barely a second of hesitation before he started unpacking the bags on the counter. “Put the flowers in the vase for me, would ya? Make ‘em real nice and pretty, ‘cause that’s all I’m letting you do for the rest of the night.” 

“Bradley,” You whined, pouting at him. “I wanna help!” 

“No, this is my thing. Get your own!” 

“You’re insufferable.” You huffed, glaring at him sulkily. Bradley didn’t respond, just winked at you as he donned the hot pink ‘Kiss the chef’ apron you’d gotten for him as a joke a few months ago. You thought he’d hate it, but to your surprise, he was actually quite taken with it, opting to put it on every time he was in your kitchen and demand kisses “because the apron said so”. 

Dinner was ready soon enough, and now you were sat down at the table, thoroughly wiped from the long day you’d both had but still happy to spend this time with each other. You’d never get tired of seeing Bradley sitting across from you almost everyday, but especially today with how thoughtful he was being. It made you feel warm and fuzzy inside. Loved. Like you always did with him. 

“Thank you for making dinner, Bradley, this looks—wow, this looks amazing.”

“‘Course, anything for my girl. Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.” He held his beer out to cheers your wine glass, beaming at you. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Bradley.” 

“Okay, not to, like, diminish the romance here, but I really think this is some of my best cooking yet, so dig in.” 

-------

Dinner and dessert had been long since finished, but you and Bradley were still sitting at the table, where he had just finished telling you about how Fanboy had accidentally turned Payback’s underwear pink by putting a red shirt in the laundry. 

Bradley’s hand lifted to scratch at his cheek, and with that action you suddenly remembered something. 

“I have something for you.” You blurted, lips quirking up into a smile. 

“Please tell me it’s just you, me, and the rest of this wine while we watch shitty romcoms, because I really don’t need anything other than that.” 

“It’s just a little thing!” You protested, sliding out of your chair and dropping a kiss to his cheek before hurrying to your room to grab it. Bradley was still sitting in his seat when you returned, though he was now sporting a rather confused look on his face when you perched at the edge of the table, pressing a wooden box into his palm. “For Valentine’s Day. My gift to you.” 

“What is this?” He asked softly, looking up at you. You just smiled warmly, nodding for him to open it and he did, brow creasing for a split second at the contents. Sitting inside was a vintage watch, a little scuffed on the face with a leather strap weathered from use, but still ticking strongly. 

You gauged his reaction carefully, waiting for the moment his confusion turned to realization at what he was actually holding in his hands. 

“Wait. Is this…” He trailed off, flipping it around carefully, looking for the telltale inscription on the back that would confirm his suspicions. Just as he thought, the words etched into the metal were just as he remembered them, the same words he’d read and reread a thousand times when he was a kid. 

My darling Nick, I love you to the moon and back. Love, your Carole.

Disbelieved, Bradley’s eyes flicked to you, mouth dropping open just the tiniest bit. “This is my dad’s.”

You nodded, drawing your lower lip between your teeth. His face split into a blinding grin, one so big that his eyes crinkled at the edges as he leaned forward in his chair, one large hand splaying along your back to pull you across his lap with ease. 

“You like it?” 

“Like it? I love it.” He nodded earnestly, placing the watch gently back into the box before giving your hip a little squeeze. “Little thing, my ass! Honey, this is…so much more than just a little thing, where’d you even find it?” 

“I can’t take all the credit here, I did have a little help from Mav. He’s the one who dug it out of all of your mom’s stuff.” 

“And you got it working again!” 

“Took it to a watch repair shop a few towns over.” You shrugged, tracing a finger along the buttons of his shirt. “I was gonna replace the glass over the face, but I figured you’d wanna keep it just the way your dad did. We can still switch it out if you want though—” 

Bradley shook his head profusely. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect. You’re literally perfect, and I’m—shit, how did I get so lucky to find you?” 

“Funny, I ask myself the same thing about you all the time.” You said softly, taking his face in your hands and pressing your forehead against his. Bradley’s eyes fell shut briefly as he leaned into your touch, arms tightening around your waist until there wasn’t any more space between the two of you. 

You took advantage of that closeness to take him by surprise, kissing him square on the mouth, firm but slow. You hoped he could feel how much you loved him through it. 

Bradley’s hand found your knee, giving it a squeeze before starting to rub mindless circles as he kissed you back passionately. It would be totally cliche to say that his kiss sent butterflies through your stomach, his touch sending electricity through your veins, but you’d gladly use every single cliche in the book to describe the way Bradley Bradshaw made you feel, right now, all the time, every single moment you were with him. Even times when you weren’t with him too. That was just the effect he had on you. 

“I love you to the moon and back, sweet girl.” 

You beamed. “Yeah?” 

“Absolutely yeah. You’re the girl of my dreams, and I promise you, I’m gonna marry you one day.” 

“Wow, big dreams, huh?” You teased, sliding your hand into the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Well y’know what they say, go big or go home,” He shrugged, offering you a cheeky wink. “And I, for one, am not planning on going home anytime soon.” 

“That’s presumptuous of you.” 

“Oh please, like you were gonna let me leave tonight in the first place.” 

“You’re never leaving, Bradley Bradshaw.” You murmured, stroking your thumb across his cheek. “I’m gonna keep you forever, you wanna know why?” 

Bradley looked equal parts pleased and amused, eyes shining with nothing but the purest of love as he gazed at you. “Why?” 

“‘Cause I love you to the moon and back.”

“There you go again,” He sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “Taking my thing.” 

“Uh no, technically it was your parents’ thing.” You fired back, tipping your chin up defiantly. Bradley laughed, a booming chuckle that resonated through your body. 

“So it’s a Bradshaw thing.” 

“According to you, I’ll be a Bradshaw one day, so…” 

“What a day that’ll be, huh, sweetheart? Gonna be the best day of my life.” 

“Well then you better hurry up and propose to me already, shouldn’t you?” 

“Look who’s presumptuous now!” 

“You’re insufferable, Bradshaw.”

It wouldn’t be now, and maybe it wouldn’t be any time soon, but when the day came and the question was popped, there was nobody else you’d even dream of spending the rest of your life with other than the insufferable Bradley Bradshaw. 

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[sehnsuchts-trunken]

A Wedding To Remember And A Proposal To Come

Bradley Bradshaw x fem!reader 3k words 

summary: You’re Penny’s maid of honour. Bradley is Mav’s best man. And after planning this perfect wedding, you’re thinking about your future with him. 

top gun masterlist

You had spent the last two months dedicating every minute of your free time - after work, five minutes before work, 2am when you’d been supposed to be sleeping but there’s only one catalogue left and just go back to bed if you’re tired, Bradley - to this very moment. Standing next to Penny in her stunning white dress, watching Maverick in his tux smiling the broadest smile you’d ever seen, listening to the officiant say those magical words: “You may now kiss the bride.” 

And hell, if it hadn’t been worth it. 

All that time on white couches sipping champagne with Amelia and your mother (Amelia drinking orange juice, of course, you were responsible adults) as Penny tried on one dress after another; all that time calling venues, bakeries, photographers; all that time assembling flowers and napkins and deciding on the dress code (it was kind of a military wedding after all, but you’d be damned if you let anyone turn up in fucking uniforms or something); all that time planning the bachelor and bachelorette parties. It had all been worth it. 

Especially now, as Mav leaned in, as they kissed, as you caught Bradley’s gaze and smiled. He was standing there next to Maverick in his tux and tie, eyes twinkling as they landed on yours, his lips tugging upwards in a way that said “We really did it”. You dabbed at your eyes to keep the tears at bay. You’d done that too many times to count today. 

He looked perfect like this. He looked perfect sleep-deprived at 5 in the morning in the dim light of the kitchen lamp too, bleary-eyed and yawning, mindlessly tapping photos of napkins in the catalogue on the table as you scolded him - ”That’s pink, Bradley, are you kidding me? Penny wants to keep it classy.” “Does she really or do you?” (You’d slapped him for that). But right now... You could very well imagine yourself in Penny’s place, him in Mav’s. You could very well imagine kissing him right here, right now, rolling the word “husband” around in your mind. And sure, you’d pictured marrying him before, but this, this was different. 

When the newly-wed couple pulled back, the guests went wild with applause. You included. Penny was grinning, laughing, fingers intertwined with Mav’s as she turned to the guests, then to you, and you let out a strangled sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh as you threw your arms around her. 

“Congrats, Pen”, you whispered. “I’m unbelievably happy for you. Mav is one lucky man.” 

“He is, isn’t he?”, she laughed, pulling you close, swaying you for a second before she let go. You couldn’t do anything but grin at her. Never in a million years would you have thought that it would come to this - her happy in Mav’s arms, in her husband’s arms. And you had to admit, you were pretty proud of the role you’d played in this wedding. Until now, everything had gone down perfectly, just like you’d planned, just like you’d wished for, and you were positive that it wouldn’t change now - you were done with the most stressful part after all. 

“He better treat you like a goddess or I’ll make sure he regrets it”, you promised. Tears shone in her eyes as well. “You deserve so much, Pen.” 

She pulled you close again, tightening her arms around you for another moment, then she really released you, embracing Amelia before you’d as much as stepped away. You turned to the freshly baked husband to watch him let go of Bradley, throwing yourself at him too, arms around his neck, knocking him back a little. 

“Congrats”, you whispered. You pulled back to look at him as you grinned. “She’s a very special woman. Don’t let go of her.” 

“Not planning on it, Ma’am”, he chuckled and you laughed, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. 

“Very glad to have you in my family, Maverick. Officially now”, you said, then stepped aside so the other guests could come say their congratulations as well.

Your elbow hit something. Before you could turn to see what it was, two hands sneaked around your waist, tugging you back. You didn’t have to look up to know just whose hands that were, especially not when you felt that familiar breath ghost over your ear. 

“Hey”, you muttered, stumbling a few steps into the background, blindly following him as he led you. His hands roaming over your sides, a quick kiss pressed to the exposed skin of your neck. 

“Hey”, he chuckled. 

“We really outdid ourselves”, you smiled. It was the truth. 

“No, you outdid yourself. I barely helped.” 

You laughed as you let your fingertips trail up and down his arms, just watching the newlyweds get congratulated and enjoying the little private moment with your boyfriend. You’d hardly got any of those over the past few weeks. 

“Don’t downplay your help like that”, you grinned. “You’re the only reason Mav has a tux on today. And you actually managed to pull off the bachelor party without anyone ending up in the ER, which I thought was really admirable.” 

His laugh tickled the back of your neck. 

“We lost Bob for like two hours”, he hummed. You shook your head. 

“You didn’t lose Bob. He fell asleep and none of you guys realised that he hadn’t moved an inch. We made a really good decision not having both parties the same night - I don’t want to imagine what chaos you would have ended up in if I hadn’t been there to pick you up.” 

He spun you around so you were facing him, your palms coming to rest on his chest, and you had to tilt your head back a bit to look at him. A smile seemed to just be etched into your features tonight. You didn’t know if you’d be able to get rid of it until you fell asleep - or if you even wanted to. You felt like you were floating and you weren’t even the one getting married. If you already felt like this just sharing someone else’s joy, god, what mess would you be when you got married one day? (’One day’ sounded so far away too. It didn’t even have to be so far away. You’d been with Bradley for a bit over three years now and neither of you had been shying away from the topic of marriage, especially with planning this one, and you were well aware that it was on the table. Bradley knew that you’d say yes any day - you knew that Bradley would say yes any day. But Penny and Mav were coming first, at least for another few hours.) 

“What would I do without you?”, he hummed, grin playing on his lips, as he leaned down just enough for his breath to graze your lips. 

“Die”, you deadpanned and shrugged, breaking when he laughed. You couldn’t not laugh when he did. 

“Probably”, he muttered, not even denying it - no matter that you’d meant it as a joke - and finally connected your lips, soft and sweet, and your fingers hooked into the collar of his shirt as you pulled him closer, pushed up against him, sighed into his mouth. You’d had way too few of his kisses. You were deprived.

If you weren’t so in love with him, maybe you’d be embarrassed about that. 

When he pulled back, you wanted to groan. But you knew that, for the rest of the night, you’d have to put the wedding first. You’d done it for weeks, you’d last until sunrise. 

“Duty calls”, you mumbled, pressing a feather-light kiss to the corner of his mouth. His mustache tickled. “We need to get Amelia, get the rose petals and get the car ready.”

His smile was infectious. He pulled you in for another quick kiss (just a quick one, really) and then he let you take his hand and lead him out of the venue, grinning like a school girl dragging her boyfriend through the crowd. 

...

Three hours later you were leaning against Bradley’s torso, one of his arms wrapped around your waist, your shoulder bumping into his chest as you rested your head against his shoulder and groaned. 

“They’re all dancing in there”, you pouted. “And we’ve had to carry presents out ever since dinner.”

It had been going so well until now: Bradley had driven Penny and Mav (and you, in the passenger seat) to the second venue you’d booked (this one for everything after the ceremony), all traditional with flowers on the hood and stuff, dinner had gone wonderfully, speeches had gone even better (you totally hadn’t cried when it had been your turn and you definitely hadn’t cried when it had been Bradley’s) and after dessert they had slow-danced (and you hadn’t cried again, of course). 

But since then you’d been carrying all the gifts people had got them out of the venue and into your car and it was the first thing to go wrong all evening. Because there were so many gifts that they didn’t fit. You’d had to improvise: Bradley hadn’t yet drunk too much to drive so you’d driven to their house and stacked everything in their living room. Now, nearly an hour later, you were done packing the second (and last) portion and to be honest, you were dying to get back inside. 

Yes, you were tired, worn out, close to exhausted - but you’d worked so hard for this, had worked so hard on this, that you didn’t particularly feel like missing out on any more of it. Especially because your parents had not only offered to take in Amelia for the night (which otherwise you would have done) and the honeymoon, but also because they had offered to stay sober and drive you back to your apartment later. So you were looking forward to a night of drinking and dancing with no worries on how to get home. You’d only had one dance with Bradley so far and that was something you desperately wanted to change. 

“We can dance as long as you want to”, he hummed, pressing his face into your hair. You took a deep breath. The scent of his perfume was ever-present, always dancing around the edges of your perception, but when he held you in his arms like this, it was multiplied by a thousand. It was so very him that anything similar to it always reminded you of him, even though he only wore it on special occasions.

“Think I’d like that”, you muttered. His hands wandered from your waist down to your hips, starting to gently rock you back and forth, finding a slow rhythm that had you smiling. Your fingers drew down the sleeves of his tux, intertwining with his, your fingertips grazing the dress you were wearing. 

It was beautiful like this. The silence of the night, the stars in the skies above, the gentle swaying, the heat of his body seeping into yours. You let out a sigh. For the first time in weeks, you felt relaxed. Truly relaxed. 

Even when Bradley had helped you unwind before, there had always been a part of you dead-set on not forgetting about the wedding, about the planning, about the nervousness. But now? Now what could go wrong? You’d made it through the ceremony, through reception, through dinner. You’d made it through the first dance. You’d fulfilled your duties as best man and maid of honour, had done an amazing job no less. You deserved this. You deserved to melt into him like butter, to finally, fully relax. 

“I love you”, he muttered, lips ghosting over your ear. 

“I love you too”, you whispered back, turning your face so that you could kiss him - gentle and slow. There was no rush, no urgency, only utter adoration. 

“Wanna go inside?”, he asked. You hummed against his lips. 

“In a minute.” 

...

It was 12:34 when you were standing breathlessly next to Phoenix, leaning on her shoulder a little, and your mother came up to you with a smile. 

“I’ll take Amelia home now. You and Bradley just tell your father when you want to go, alright? He’s been talking to Henry the whole night, I doubt he’ll want to leave earlier.” 

You reached for her and pulled her into a quick hug, a smile on your lips as well. Okay, maybe you were just a little drunk. But hey, you had every right to be. 

“Thanks, mum. But we’ll stay until this whole thing’s over, duties and all.” 

“Alright”, she said, a critical edge to her voice. “But if you’re tired or anything, you go home, yes? You know Penny wouldn’t want you to stay just for her.” 

“Yes, mum” - you rolled your eyes at her - “I think I’m old enough to make that decision.” 

Bradley came back then, two glasses in his hands, handing one to you as he slipped an arm around your waist and looked at your mother. You leaned back against him. He’d stripped off his jacket and his tie some time between ten and now, popped the first few buttons of his shirt and rolled up the sleeves. 

“Leaving already?”, he asked your mother. She smiled at him and nodded. 

“I think it’s been enough for Amelia”, she shrugged. “She’s almost fallen asleep on my shoulder twice.”

“She was dancing with us like half an hour ago”, you recalled, resting your head on Bradley’s shoulder. He tugged you closer into him. 

“Teenagers”, your mother laughed. “Anyway, I just wanted to let you know. I’ll go say bye to Penny and then we’re off.”

You leaned forward a bit to hug her close again for a second. You’d hugged many, many people today. 

“Goodnight, mum. We’ll talk tomorrow.” 

“Night, hun. And you” - she pointed at Bradley with a grin - “Take care of her for me.”

“Always do, Ma’am”, he chuckled. Your mother laughed and shook her head. 

“I know you do, Bradley. You’re a good man. Have fun, you two, don’t worry about Penny and Mav too much. Your father was blackout drunk when he was her best man and she still managed everything.”

She made her way through the crowd to get to Penny, who was sitting, hand in hand with Maverick, at a table, chatting and laughing with friends. You rested your head back against Bradley’s shoulder as you watched her say goodbye and then grab Amelia, who’d been dozing off next to your father. You couldn’t help but smile. 

They were all here, all of your friends and family. The squad, your parents, your grandparents, Amelia. Tons of other people Penny and Maverick knew, some of them military, some of them not. You felt like you belonged here. In that dim light, with all the people you loved, in Bradley’s arms. Shit, this could’ve been your own wedding and you probably wouldn’t have been any happier. 

“Bradshaw”, you muttered, reaching for his hand on your hip to trail your fingertips up his skin. Soft, warm. He hummed. “You thinking what I’m thinking?” 

“That we should have another dance?”, he asked, and you could hear the grin on his lips. He was playing. 

“Not quite”, you mumbled, turning around in his arms and putting your drink down on the nearest table. Phoenix wasn’t next to you anymore. You didn’t know where she’d gone. You didn’t really care. All that mattered was Bradley. Here with you right now, eyes locked on yours, hands intertwined. He brought them up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. 

“Tell me, baby”, he muttered. You felt your breath catch. 

“I thought... I thought-” 

You broke off with a sigh and frowned, annoyed at your own inability to get the words out right. 

“Take your time”, he soothed, kissing your knuckles again, guiding your hands to rest on his chest as he put his arms around you and pulled you close, fingers dancing across your lower back. 

“I keep imagining if this was ours”, you admitted, a little breathless. “You know, our wedding. Our ceremony, our reception, our party. Everything.” 

You didn’t know why you felt shy admitting it. Really, it wasn’t like it was some fantasy - you’d not talked about the details, but you’d both said before that you felt ready for marriage. It probably came natural to think about it when you were planning a wedding. But saying it out loud still made your heart skip a beat, your pulse quicken, your cheeks heat up. 

Bradley smiled. As if on cue, your insecurities were washed away, no words needed to tell you that there was nothing to be nervous about. 

“I’d marry you on the spot”, he admitted, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Anywhere, anytime.”

When he kissed you, really kissed you, you were on cloud nine - safe and sound in his arms, allowing every struggle, every strain, every thought to melt away. If you could stay in his arms forever, you would. He was a god, your god, perfect in every way imaginable and the only man you would ever want to spend the rest of your life with. Or any other day of your life. Or minute. Or second. He was the one, you were so very sure of that. And apparently, whatever almighty force up there was responsible for it, he felt the same about you. 

“Was that a proposal?”, you teased, knowing well enough that drama queen Bradley Bradshaw would certainly not let this be the way he popped the question. 

“No”, he chuckled. “That was the truth. You’ll know when I propose to you.” 

You pulled him in for another quick kiss, grinning against his lips as you broke away, reaching for his hand and intertwining your fingers to tug him back towards the dance floor. You still had a few hours to kill after all - before Penny and Mav were home, you weren’t done here. 

“So that’s planned already?”, you asked with a laugh. 

He twirled you once and let you rest your head against his chest, pressing soft kisses to the top of your head. “Since the day I met you, baby.” 

[notroosterbradshaw]

thirty-nine

about: never one for birthdays, Bradley is quite content on a quiet night in for his birthday. the only gift he really wants is you but gets a little more than expected. tbe universe.

word count: ficlet-town (for me). 2.5k.

part of: The Boyfriend Experience universe

warnings: fluff. a bit o’ smut but mostly fluffy fluff. mindless fluff. and yeah. adult themes. but this blog is 18+, so this shouldn’t be a surprise.

it’s midnight here in the land of Oz and brb thots will be running rampant multiple timezones today, celebrate with your creators and fandom. send reblogs and comments x

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you... Happy birthday, sweet Bradley,” you sang quietly, approaching him with a single-lit candle chocolate cupcake as he relaxed on the couch after a delicious homemade dinner and the whiskey doing down a fucking treat. With the lights low, romance was gently hanging in the air. “Happy birthday to you,” you finished simply as he couldn’t resist his grin and pink flushed the apples of his cheeks. 

“Love...” he grumbled, embarrassed. “You didn’t have to - ”

“But I did,” you cut him off gently. “Make a wish, handsome,” you tenderly kissed the frown line between his raised dark brows.

“Thank you, sweet girl,” he accepted the cupcake and stared deeply into your eyes before letting his lids drift closed. He carefully blew out the candle.

"Whatcha wish for?” you asked sweetly.

“Don’t need a wish, already got everything I need,” he said simply as he patted his thighs and opened his arms to you. “Come ‘ere, you.”

Eagerly, you climbed aboard your favourite seat and made yourself comfortable on his lap, taking the candle and tossing it on the coffee table. “You’re such a fuckin’ softy,” you accused teasingly as he chuckled, shyly. “I know you didn’t want to celebrate, and that’s fine. But you weren’t getting away without a sweet surprise,” you admitted as he offered you the first nibble. “No, sweetheart. You’re the birthday boy. Birthday boy comes first today.”

“Comes first, huh? Sweet girl, I will always get you there,” he breathed deeply, taking an indulging bite. He hummed happily, crumbs flailing between you. “Sorry,” he admitted. “It’s real good,” he chuckled messily, trying to catch crumbs with his tongue. You adjusted your posture, a gentle grind catching his attention quick. He licked his lip, unknowingly missing some frosting that you generously tidied for him with a sweet kiss.

“Does taste good,” you agreed. “All for you, Lieutenant Commander,” you reminded him. He knew that tone. He knew it meant good things were coming. Hopefully both of you. 

He hummed, a low grumble of laughter teasing in his throat. He dragged his long index and middle fingers through the frosting and swiped against your lower lip. “Open, love,” he said, but it wasn’t a question. Your tongue delicately darted out as you kept his gaze. He appreciatively watched as tongue first, you delicately swirled around his fingers and enclosed them, taking it deep in the back of your mouth, eyes big as he breathed a raspy, ‘hmm, yes, baby. You know just how I like it...’

His other palm wrapped around you, a warm hand snuck into the elastic of your sweats and he could feel the lace under the pads of his fingers. He pouted, curiosity getting the best of him. Good things came with lace. “Come here,” he said as you let his fingers go with a pop and crawled a little further, skilfully grinding down on him. He groaned low as your sweet lips brushed wet kisses against his pulse. He was putty when you kissed him there and he willingly snapped back, eyes black with desire as he helped you raise your hoodie and discard it, a new navy blue bodysuit leaving very, very little to the imagination now revealed.

“Fuck, this is nice,” he didn’t apologise for how he groped your breast, his thumb rubbing slow circles around your nipple and he lowered his face to bite through the material, the sight too good to ignore as you sighed, you were in heaven. Dragging your fingers into his neat curls, it was hard not to fall into him. He gazed up at you with those eyes that told you how much he wanted to devour you and raised his lips to you, his big hands pulling you closer to him as your lips met, wild kisses ensued as your bodies pressed against each other eagerly awaiting what was to come next. 

He eased back on the couch as you pulled back to make light work of the belt and zip on his jeans. He whipped off his tee and quickly dragged down his jeans with his boxer briefs, long, thick and weeping with excitement for you. “Lose the sweats, love,” he ordered, his tone dark and certain as you stepped away, turned away and pushed the fleece away. He sighed wistfully. He was an ass man at heart, and your ass was pure perfection that he wanted to sink his gleaming teeth into. 

Chuckling deep, he encouraged you. “Yes, love. Show me how that thing comes off, huh?” 

Looking back, you stepped back between his wide thighs and took his hand, guiding it between your legs to where the clasps strained to be released. He nodded, but instead swiped the flimsy material to the side, his index finger pressing into the slick that always seemed to be waiting for him. 

“Look at you, dripping and I have barely even touched you,” he chewed his lip as he watched your face contort, bashful to blissed as his index finger sunk into you, then his middle finger, knees almost immediately weak. “Love, you need to be fucked, huh?” he dragged you flush against him and placed you back on his lap. 

“It’s your birthday. I just want to please you - ” you tried. Really. All you wanted to do was please him. See his face as he came. That was pure ecstasy in itself. 

“This is all I want,” he told you simply. “Let me bury myself in you, huh? You coming all over my cock is my gift.” 

“I was supposed to be the gift to you - ” you moaned as he dragged you upon him, slipping his cock in deeply, perfect for you. “God,” you muttered, resting your forehead on his strong shoulder, taking in his cologne. He always smelled so damn good.  

“I said no presents,” he growled, teasingly. “Well, okay. Except maybe for this flimsy, little... thing,” he breathed deep, pulling down the cup and letting his tongue swirl around the puckered skin. His cock was so sensitive to your sweet, warm wetness. He wanted slow and slippery, but he wasn’t going to last if this was how delirious you made him feel.

It was slow, sweet. Connecting, kissing, he held you so tight as you melded together. Perfect in its simplicity. But unlike your birthday wish for him, you came before him, quaking and milking him, dragging his orgasm out. 

It wasn’t always about the birthday boy.

Slumped against Bradley, his tongue lapped up the few beads of sweat on your shoulder and murmured how good his sweet girl was to him. “You want more, big boy?” you asked into his skin. “Ready to unwrap me?” 

He breathed deeply, trying to control his breathing. “Fuckin’ yes.” 

“Then come along. It would be rude if I unwrapped your gift myself.” 

Praying to whatever deity brought you to him, his grin ripped wide as you murmured about the mess between you both that threatened to spill. He reached for his discarded tee and skillfully tidied you up. After another kiss, he took your hand, thanking the gods for creating you for him. “Okay. Maybe one more gift...” he slipped his boxer briefs back on and allowed himself to be led to the bedroom, his big hand in both of your smaller ones and you stopped at the door. 

“Come on,” you said as he wandered in. “Get comfy, let me just freshen up...” You kissed him then headed for the bathroom as he dove on the bed, the duvet exploding around him in his excitement and an arrogant smile on his face as he placed his hands behind his head, body primed for whatever you were about to blow his mind with. 

He cast his gaze to the bathroom door you’d just disappeared through, his bedside lamp on. Meticulous in his need for organisation and neatness, he noted an envelope on the bedside table and reached for it, his name on the front - 

And maybe breathing stopped when he pulled out the contents.

And maybe his heart lurched as he realised the handwriting he hadn’t seen in years, the letter addressed to Bradley Darling x

And maybe - 

“Ahh, you saw it,” you said, reappearing and relaxed against the doorway, a small grin on your face, perfect with your messy hair and put back together in your bodysuit. Bradley gave you a confused smile.

“Love,” he sat up, and asked, “What is this?”

"Wasn’t addressed to me, Bradley Darling,” you told him, the affection you had for the name superseding any nickname you’d ever given him. “I found it in one of the boxes in the attic. Had Mav’s name on it and a cross scribbled through it violently,” you gave him a look that told him how ridiculous it sounded.

Bradley signed, rubbing his eyes bashfully. “I got a bunch of stuff from Mav after Mom died... and then the whole papers thing happened so I took out my anger on an archive box... among other things.”

“Mature.”

“Yeah,” he agreed embarrassed.

“Want me to leave you for a few minutes?” you nudged your head towards the living room in case he wanted to read alone.

“No, stay,” he said, reaching his hand for you and you came to sit on the edge of the bed as he sat up. “Wanna read it with me?”

“It looks like it’s just for you...” you told him warily, not wanting to interrupt a private moment but you would be lying if you didn’t want to know the contents of the letter. 

“Yeah, but there’s nothing in there I’d ever hide from you. Get over here,” he admitted as you came to scamper over his body and lay back together against his pillow as he opened the letter. “Been a long time since I’ve seen her handwriting, it’s weird.”

“It’s such a beautiful script,” you admitted, never a fan of your own writing. A messy chicken scrawl at the best of times. You wrapped a thigh over his, snuggling against his side. “Smells like old perfume.”

“She always sprayed her favourite Chanel perfume on any letters she sent,” he chuckled quietly. 

“No. 5?” you reckoned. 

“Actually, yeah. That sounds really familiar. She said it was really expensive,” he chuckled quietly. His eyes went to her handwriting and started to read aloud:

My Bradley Darling on his 21st birthday.

There are a few of these we haven’t celebrated together now. It breaks my heart to know that you are alone but I know Mav is taking care of you as best as he can - 

Bradley sighed. “Guess she couldn’t predict it.”

“No, I suppose not,” you agreed, kissing his ribs but not wanting to distract him, your fingers tracing the ridges and peaks of his abs, his muscles firing, always ticklish. “Worked out in the end.”

He hummed in response and kept reading:

But I know he is doing all he can in his way to make sure you’re safe, happy and taken care of. I hope you’ve remembered your patience and consideration of all he has done for you and will continue to do, even if you don’t agree with his decisions. All Mav has ever wanted was the best for you, just like Daddy and me.

I’m writing you this while you sleep in the hospital chair across from me. My young man, so handsome and bright with the world at his feet. I hope you have gone for everything you’ve ever dreamed of. I hope you meet someone wonderful, someone who you will love like I love your Daddy. I’m so scared to leave you, but I want you to know while you have Mav here, Daddy and I are going to be watching everything you do from where we are together, devastated we’re not with you, but so damn proud of the man you will grow to be, watching from the front row.

Bradley stopped to sniff. He wasn’t crying but would be lying to say he might’ve if you didn’t distract him with the tear stains now on his chest. “Oh, love,” he said with a gentle sigh.

“This is the sweetest thing. She is very eloquent.”

“Towards the end, she was pretty out of it. I don’t know when she wrote this,” he admitted. You nodded, hoping he’d continue. There didn’t appear much more left as your eyes followed his words.

Bradley Darling, you are the love of my life. And I’m so sorry I couldn’t beat this for us. But I’ll always take care of you. I’ll be your angel watching over you, just like Daddy is for you and me now. He’s calling for me, I can hear him clear as day and I can’t wait to see him. 

I love you, my brave son. Your Momma x

“Oh, my God,” you were almost sobbing in the end as Bradley folded the paper up, placed it back on the bedside table and wrapped you into his arms. 

“There, there,” he teased, kissing your forehead. 

“That is so special, Bradley.”

He nodded but didn’t reply. He knew the weight it held and wondered if Carole really was watching, seeing how happy he was, seeing what he made of his life. A decorated naval aviator, a partner and a man with a future. A man who didn’t think he’d have a future before you came along. But he knew.

He didn’t believe in soulmates before he’d met you, but he knew his mother had sent you to him. When you were both at the right times in your life - when you needed him and when he needed you more than he’d ever know he could need anyone. 

He giggled as he kissed you, tasting salty tears. “Why are you so emotional about this?”

“I don’t know,” you protested, a bubbly laugh slipping. “Do you think she is happy at how your life turned out?”

“Yeah, I hope so. She’d probably be pushing a baby agenda,” he nudged you, teasingly as you rolled your eyes. You’d only recently just gone off the pill, rolling the dice to see if Baby Bradshaw was in your futures and Bradley would be lying to say... he was trying to bury himself in you any fucking chance he got, but don’t get him wrong, he didn’t have a breeding kink. Nooo... not at all. 

“One step at a time, huh?” he held your left palm in his and pressed a series of sweet kisses into your engagement ring, your wedding in a few short weeks with that special handful of people. Small and intimate for two fools who never saw themselves ever getting married and finding their happily ever afters together. 

“One step at a time,” you repeated, moving to his waist as he licked his lips, an entertained grin spreading across his handsome features. “Think I could tempt you for the rest of your present now, Bradshaw?” 

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” 

masterlist.

A/N: happy birthday, Rooster Bradshaw. It’s been so much fun bringing you to life exactly how I see you (whether people agree or not) x

the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x

[lulunothulu]

“A Bullseye to the Heart” Ch. 9

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Summary: You call Jake to come pick you up from a crazy night out with Phoenix and Rooster and you say something you didn’t mean to say out loud.

Contents: drinking, an almost kiss, and FLUFF

Word count: 2k (ish)

A/N: I just wanna note while this is part of a series, you don’t have to go back and read the other chapters. This can be read alone. Okay ENJOY!!

Chapter 9

You had just taken your last shot for the night before Penny rang the bell for last call. You turn to Natasha and Bradley before smiling.

“Should we get one more shot?” You slur.

“I think you should call Bagman,” Nat smiles.

“Yeah, Seresin is gonna wanna pick you up,” Bradley tells you.

You groan but unlock your phone to find Jake’s contact and allow Bradley to give you a piggyback ride out the bar, Natasha hanging on the other side.

“I feel like a koala,” she mutters making you laugh hysterically.

“Hello?” Jake answers.

“Bagman!” You say into the phone as Bradley puts you and Nat down.

“What’s up, Bullseye?” Jake laughs.

“Can you come pick me up?” You ask. “Wait, do you guys need a ride too?”

“Nope,” Bradley smiles. “Baby On Board is coming for us.”

You gasp. “I love Bob!”

“Y/N?” You hear Jake say in your ear.

“Oh shit, I forgot you were here!” You laugh.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes, I have to drop someone off,” he tells you.

Your heart sinks at that. You’d been living with him for about five months or so and you’d never seen him on a date. Did he choose now to start dating someone?

“Oh, okay,” you respond, defeat in your voice.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“I’m fine. I’ll see you when you get here.”

You hang up and glance at Nat and Bradley who are now quiet and waiting for you to tell them what’s up.

“I’m pretty sure he was on a date,” you tell them.

“Does that bother you?” Nat asks. She’s the only one that knows how you feel about Jake, if Bradley found out he’d try to talk you out of the feelings.

“Nah,” you fake smile. “Just upset I might e stopped him from getting laid.”

Bradley shakes his head. “I don’t think you would be much of a cock block.”

A few minutes pass before Jake finally shows up, Bob had picked up Nat and Bradley a few minutes before. They wanted to wait with you, but you shooed them off.

“Heyooooo,” you slur when you climb into Jake’s truck.

“Hey yourself,” he smiles. “Did you have a good time?”

“Mhmm.” You sigh. “How was your night?”

“It was fine,” he tells you, beginning to drive. “I had Coyote over for a beer or two. That’s who I was dropping off, he got a little too plastered.”

Immediate relief fills your chest and you let out a sigh. “Oh.”

“Just in case you were wondering who was over,” he continues. “I wouldn’t bring any girls over by the way.”

“It’s fine if you do,” you tell him. “It’s your house.”

“No, it’s our house now.”

Right, you forgot that Jake insisted that you call his house yours as well. You didn’t expect to stay as long as you had, but after things with your ex, you couldn’t bear living alone.

When he finally parks the car in the driveway, he turns to you and asks, “Do I need to carry you up?”

“Noooope!” You cheerfully answer before hopping out of the car and skipping your way to the front door.

Jake follows close behind, worried you’re going to trip and hit your head on something. He opens the front door and you skip inside toward the kitchen and grab another beer from the door.

“Haven’t you had enough?” Jake laughs.

“I drank with Natasha and Bradley,” you shrug. “Now I drink with you.”

“Okay, but just one.”

* * *

One turned into three and then three turned into five. Before Jake knew it, he was giggling with you as you watched the SpongeBob movie, a huge bowl of popcorn between the two of you.

“I cannot believe you haven’t seen this,” you tease.

“I was like fifteen when this came out.” He laughs.

“So was I and I went to the theater to watch it!”

Jake only smiles at you, this is a side of you he hasn’t seen before and he thinks he likes it. Not the drinking, but the relaxed and playful side of you.

“What’re you thinking?” He asks you.

He watches as your eyes fall on his, mild searching ensues as your eyes triangulate from his to his mouth and back to his eyes.

“I think you have pretty eyes,” you whisper.

“Do you?” He whispers back.

“Right now, they look kinda blue-green.”

“Are they?”

You nod, scooting closer to him and moving the bowl of popcorn to the floor.

“They’re the prettiest blue-green I’ve ever seen,” you whisper to yourself.

“Are they now?” He smiles.

“Shit,” you say, a blush creeping up your ears. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

“What else do you think about me?” He urges. He likes hearing what you thought about his eyes, he can’t imagine what else you’d say.

“Like your kindness,” you tell him. “I feel like you only reserve it for me.”

Jake’s face was hurting from how hard he was smiling but he didn’t care. You thought he was kind.

“I do, actually,” he tells you, the alcohol making him courageous enough to tell you the truth. “You deserve all the kindness.”

“Thank you,” you smile.

“What else do you like about me?” He asks, scooting even closer.

His thighs were burning by how close his were to you but he wouldn’t dare move them. His lips part when he watches your eyes flick down to them.

He really wanted to kiss you.

“I like how you smell,” you blurt.

Jake laughs and leans in close enough for him to expose his neck to your nose.

“What do I smell like?” He teases.

He feels you breathe on his neck, sending shivers down his spine. You press your nose to his neck and his eyes flutter closed.

He could get used to this.

You.

“You smell like…Jake, mixed with something sweet and clean,” he hears you say.

He pulls away a bit, facing you.

You’re inches away from him and he could easily just grab your head and pull you in. But he won’t. Not unless you asked him to.

And he really wanted you to.

“Can you do something for me?” You whisper.

“Anything,” he whispers back.

He watches as your flutter closed, blinking before you search his eyes. Something glimmers in your eyes and he can’t help but feel the excitement bubble up in his chest.

She’s so beautiful.

“Will you kiss me?” You ask, so quietly, Jake could barely hear it.

Music fills Jake’s ears, just like they do in romantic movies when the two main characters fall in love.

Yes, he watched those.

Delight and excitement courses through his veins, nothing like he’s ever felt before.

This was new and exciting.

Jake smiles down at you before nodding softly. He’s been waiting for this moment for the past few months, he wasn’t gonna fuck it up.

Except, as soon as his hands reach either side of your face, a phone rings.

Jumping, you pull away, almost sobering up and realizing what was about to happen and you turn around to grab your phone.

Jake’s heart was pounding, not in fear but in shock of what he was so close to doing. He had t been this close to a woman in almost two months and the celibacy was kinda killing him. Though if he had to wait longer for you, he would.

“Hello?” You answer.

Jake watches as your shocked and serious demeanor softens and lights up in laughter, making him smile.

“Bradley, if you wanted to come over with Nat you should’ve asked,” you laugh. He watches you pause, as you listen to Bradshaw.

Your eyes are glossy from the alcohol, cheeks slightly flushed. You’re chewing on your lower lip, your thumb guiding the lip back and forth. You feel his eyes on you so you flick to his and smile softly.

“Just tell Bob to drive you guys here. I’m sure Jake wouldn’t mind sharing a bed with you later,” you say, winking at Jake.

Jake only smiles, shaking his head in defeat because he knows Bradshaw would do it to piss him off.

“Okay so we’ll see you in a few?” You pause, smiling again. “Okay, okay, love you too.”

Did she just say she loved him?

“So I assume they’re coming over?” Jake asks you. He’s choosing to ignore that last line but his face was doing a bad job at hiding his feelings and he knew it.

“Yeah,” you say, growing a bit. “Hey, are you—”

“I’m great,” Jake says, standing from the couch. “I’ll get some snacks ready for them, I’m sure they’re gonna be hungry, especially Baby On Board.”

* * *

You watch as Jake pads into the kitchen, sighing to himself.

You couldn’t believe you almost kissed him. What were you thinking? If you would’ve kissed him, it would’ve made things weird and then you’d have to leave.

You almost ruined everything.

Though, had it happen you knew you would’ve been glad it did. And it looked like he wanted to.

Damn you Bradley.

Instead, you get up and walk to your room, passing the kitchen on the way. You glance into the kitchen to find Jake staring off into space and smiling before blinking and focusing on you.

A small smile lingered on his lips so you did the next best thing you thought would clear out the air.

You waved at him.

Jake chuckles and waves back causing you to chuckle and blow a kiss in his direction. His eyes widen and cheeks turn red before he turns away with a smile.

You to admit, that was adorable.

In your room, you change into some pajama shorts and the oversized Texas Longhorns t-shirt you forgot to give back to Jake along with some fuzzy socks. As you take your makeup off, you hear the doorbell ring followed by Bradley and Natasha’s voices echoing in the front hallway.

“Where’s my girl?” You hear Nat ask.

“She went to her room a bit ago. You should go check on her,” Jake tells her.

A few second later, Natasha is bounding into your room, a goofy smile on her face.

“Sooo,” she starts but stops when she sees what you’re wearing. “Wait, since when you you like the Longhorns? WAIT! IS THAT—”

You shush her before pulling her into your room and closing the door.

“Yes, it’s Jake’s,” you whisper. “Be quiet I have something to tell you.”

“You like him,” she deadpans. “I already knew that.”

“Not only that,” you drawl. “But we almost kissed.”

Natasha blinks, registering what you’ve just told her before she breaks out into a wide smile.

“Fucking finally,” she whisper yells. “Why didn’t you kiss?”

“Bradley called,” you respond.

“Oh, I know exactly how to get the ball rolling.”

When Natasha gives a devilish grin, you sigh. You knew what was coming.

“Please don’t say—”

“Spin the bottle.”

Next part!!!

Tags: @lonelysoul50 @akilatwt @russopalette @emma8895eb @djs8891

[gretagerwigsmuse]

rocketman: part ii - from the back of the cab

Summary: in which lieutenant commander bradshaw finally returns stateside for just about the best damn homecoming he's ever had. it's been three months of countless emails and facetime calls between the two of you, but what awaits you both now that bradley's back? and what does it mean for your relationship going forward? [read part i here]

OR a homecoming 159 emails in the making

Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader 10k

Warnings: 18+, explicit language, suggestive dialogue, and suggestive content. a lot of the italic words are direct references to the emails in part i or direct quotes from the rocket man by ray bradbury (read at your own risk because if you picture bradley as the rocket man, you'll cry). the next part will pick up right where this one leaves off and hopefully won't take too long to get out!

from the back of the cab to the airport // i am happy you and i got this hour

Having multiple people, let alone multiple people who loved him more than anything in the world, waiting for him when he got home from a deployment, no matter how brief or long, was definitely a newer experience for Bradley. There was almost a giddiness about him as he said his goodbyes to Bob and Payback and the other pilots he’d flown with from Lemoore. He couldn’t wait to see you in twenty seconds after it’d felt like he’d been gone for twenty years. 

The countless (actually one-hundred and fifty-nine - he’d counted) emails between the two of you had been his saving grace these last three months. You’d emailed him almost every day, sometimes multiple times a day, much to the jealousy of his colleagues. He’d become addicted to them almost. 

How did your cooking class go? What was your day like at work? Yes, he would love to go on a trip to Mexico. No, your mom is an absolute idiot. How did you touch yourself at night? Were you being a good girl for him?

And in twenty seconds he’d have the real thing. He’d have you in his arms, hugging him, kissing him, talking a mile a minute about any and everything under the sun. 

(He knew Maverick would be there, too. He wasn’t being flippant about it or anything - all Bradley had wanted for the last thirteen years was for Maverick to be there when he got home. Last year, when he’d gotten back from three months out near Guam, he’d unabashedly cried from behind his sunglasses when he saw Maverick, Penny, and Amelia waiting for him. Amelia had even made a sign for him with terrible puns and lots of glitter. They’d had Bradley over for dinner - a family dinner - and he had felt on top of the world. Until he’d had to go back to his brand-new, empty house. Bitter with the sweet, he supposed.)

Off to his right, Bradley could see Bob and Callie hugging, and Reuben fussing over his wife’s noticeable baby bump. He smiled at the sight and the thought that he wouldn’t want to leave you while you were pregnant briefly floated through his mind. 

And then, like he had conjured you up, there you were. You hadn’t seen him yet. But Bradley could see you as you craned your neck and stretched on your tiptoes, bobbing and weaving and stretching to try and find him in the crush.

He'd known you were taking a half day to pick him up and you looked so soft and lovely in your off-duty clothes - a simple pair of cropped jeans and a pale blue oxford that he'd later realize was his. Pale blue in a sea of khaki with your sunglasses perched on the top of your head as the sun still beamed strongly onto the asphalt. 

Like something out of a movie, you turned your head and locked eyes with him. The two of you couldn't have been more than thirty feet apart and it was like everyone and everything around you had stopped - just for a moment. A blip in time. And then a smile crept across your face and your eyes lit up and the world started again.

“Bradley!”

With nary a glance back at Maverick, who Bradley had just realized was standing next to you, you ran towards Bradley and into his arms with so much force that he staggered backwards. His seabag made a solid thud on the ground as he wrapped his arms around you - one around your waist and another around the back of your neck. You burrowed your face in his neck and he couldn't resist holding you tighter, lifting you slightly so that the tips of your shoes kissed the asphalt. 

This - this is what he had been missing for the last three months. Home. Home. Home. Bradley was home. With you. And holding you. 

"Hey, kid." You tightened your hold on him at the moniker. "You miss me?"

“More than anything.” Not even a second after he put you down, your hands were running across his cheeks and neck. "Are you alright? Do you need anything? I have snacks in the car if you're hungry or -"

He cut you off with a kiss, your first kiss in three months. Thirteen weeks. Ninety-one days. Two thousand one hundred ninety-one hours. 

Bradley knew he would have a lot more of these homecomings - had even had some with you already. But he would never forget this one - his favorite homecoming. Two weeks, ten days, three days; it was nothing. Nothing compared to being in your arms again after three months apart. Nothing compared to kissing you again after three months. 

There was so much genuine love and longing in you - in him - that Bradley already dreaded when he’d leave you again. Because there would always be another time. 

At least until he broke the cycle. 

(Don’t ever be a rocket man. Promise me you won’t be like me.) 

But for now you were safe in his arms, feeling and smelling and sounding like home and god - for now that was enough. 

Your voice was similarly muffled. “Oh, bubs. I missed you so much. I can’t believe you’re finally home.”

“And I can’t believe you’re in front of me right now.” 

He wanted to touch you everywhere. Your cheeks, your hair, your shoulders, your legs, your breasts. Everywhere. There was no way he could ever get enough of you. 

You tilted your head up and smiled at him. “I love you.”

“Love you, too. Let’s go home.” The smile that lit up your face could guide Bradley home on even his darkest days. 

Before setting off, he gave you another kiss, this one just as sweet, and the two of you started making your way to the gate and by the other families milling around. It was a bit awkward balancing his arm around your shoulder with his seabag, but it was all worth it to have you tucked into his side again. You were so soft and warm and smelled so pretty. He couldn’t get over it. Everything about you felt safe and precious. 

“I can’t wait for you to see the house! I have almost everything situated, just a couple seasonal clothes and coats at my old place. I thought maybe we could go after work on Tuesday - unless you’re in a debrief or something or have other plans?”

Bradley squeezed you closer to his side. “Nah, I should be done by Monday afternoon, so Tuesday’s perfect.”

You nuzzled your face against his chest. “I can’t believe you’re home.” And then softer still, “I’m gonna keep saying it because it still doesn’t feel real.”

“Well,” Bradley steered you both away from the crush, “I’ll try my hardest to make it feel real for you later.” 

And, God, it went straight to his cock, the way you peered up at him, eyes slightly widened. You even bit your lip, cheeky thing. His seabag slipped from his grasp and he wound both arms around your waist pulling you close to him again. All he wanted to do was play out one of those cheeky little emails of ours in excruciating detail. With his girl. 

His wonderful girl. His sweet girl. His smart girl. His, his, his, his -

It was definitely verging on improper, the way he was kissing you now. But Bradley didn’t care. Not when you felt and smelled and tasted so fucking good -

“- Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw!” 

You whined against Bradley’s lips when he pulled away. It felt like he’d just gotten caught necking his girlfriend behind the bleachers by his father - and well…

Bradley cleared his throat and hoped his cheeks weren’t too red. “Captain Mitchell…”

They exchanged salutes, Maverick’s face all serious until Bradley could see him fighting a smile. There was a beat and then Bradley wrapped his arms around Mav in a tight hug. 

“Good to see you, kiddo.” 

“You too, Mav.” 

He let Bradley go to look him over much like you had. It warmed his heart to be fussed over by his dad. To have the two most important people in his life be there to pick him up and bring him home.

“Come on you two, ice cream? My treat?”

You gasped. “Now Captain Mitchell, you wouldn’t be suggesting we spoil Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw’s dinner with ice cream, would you?”

Bradley hadn’t had ice cream in weeks. And a vanilla soft serve with chocolate jimmies sounded like absolute heaven right now. But as much as he wanted to have ice cream with you and Maverick like he was celebrating a little league baseball win, Bradley wanted to go home with you even more. He would see Mav during the week while you were at the office. 

Right now, he just wanted to go home with his girl.

“Nah, I think we’re gonna head home. But I’ll take a raincheck for Monday?”

Mav nodded. “Sounds good to me, I’ll bring the car round then?”

“Sounds good, thanks!” you chirped.

Wait, what? Before Bradley could even question him, Maverick was off towards the parking lot - leaving you in his direct line of fire. 

Which, to be fair, you did look contrite. “Pete thought it would be easier if he drove, especially with all the people around…”

And was Bradley really going to be mad at Maverick for caring too much? For wanting to spend time with his kid after he got home from a three month deployment? No. Not even at the expense of a twenty minute car ride home alone with you. 

“I should’ve told you earlier he was driving, sorry.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” You both started making your way to the gate again. “Probably gave him an excuse to take the rest of the afternoon off, too.”

You giggled. “I asked if he wanted to get lunch beforehand, but he said he was wrapping something up.”

Bradley’s stride momentarily faltered. Right, he forgot about that - your little lunch dates with Maverick. Was it a little annoying and did it make him irrationally jealous? Sure. But it was also oddly sweet. There were a lot worse things than having your girlfriend genuinely like hanging out with your dad. Plus, Bradley’s didn’t think you really knew you had a crush on him.

“I’m sure you two had plenty of time to catch up while I was gone, but now you’re all mine, kid.”

You wrapped your hands around his upper arm and gave it a squeeze. With a few nods at his fellow aviators and other assorted crew members, you two made it through the gate and to the parking lot where Maverick was waiting in his 1962 Ferrari 250 GTE. 

Otherwise known both as the smallest car in the world and Bradley’s inheritance. 

The car was in really good shape and drove like a dream. But it was very much not designed for a 6’1” naval aviator - especially when one was relegated to the back seat. Because Bradley didn’t want you to be in the back seat alone and you had refused to sit in the front. 

So, now his knees were up to his shoulders and you two were separated by an armrest because the damn Italians hated fun and had foregone a bench seat. 

Though this did not stop you from laying a cheeky hand on his knee, inching it higher and higher up his thigh as you crossed the Coronado Bridge. You glanced over at Bradley and winked, stopping yourself from getting higher by holding his hand instead. 

It was never a long drive back to his - your house, but today it seemed to fly by ever faster. Maverick was unusually chatty in the front seat, asking about your upcoming trip and if you needed a ride to the airport on Thursday morning, while also telling Bradley about the newly renovated ready room on base. 

The chatter petered off into the background as Bradley suddenly zeroed in on the song playing on the radio - Everlasting Love. He found himself mouthing the lyrics. 

Need you by my side, girl you’ll be my bride 

You’ll never be denied everlasting love 

That was you. That was you and him. Everlasting love. 

He squeezed your hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss. And while you and Maverick chatted and told Bradley some of the more lighter happenings of the last three months - mainly the raccoon garage saga - he was counting down the minutes till it was just you and him. Peace and quiet with his everlasting love.

Which was really everything he could ever want. 

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

After a long shower with all his favorite products and even some new ones you had brought over, Bradley made his way downstairs and was greeted with the unfairly adorable sight of you chopping potatoes at the kitchen island. There was music playing, candles lit, and the smell of something delicious coming from the kitchen. He smiled, seeing you wearing the apron he’d picked out for you all those months ago and was relieved to see that it looked broken in from wear. Because, to be honest, it was nearly impossible to pick out clothes for you.

Originally, Bradley had wanted to get you some frilly old thing, dainty and cute and proper if only to feed some long repressed kink of his. But the denim apron was practical and you would get use out of it for plenty more years to come. 

And he could always get you another one for special occasions. Because he had had a lot of time to think about all those special occasions with you while he was away…

A beautiful smile lit up your face as you saw him pad down the stairs. “My, my, don't you look cozy?”

Once his socked-feet were firmly on the hardwood floor, Bradley spun on his heels showing off his comfy joggers and plain, grey t-shirt. “Do I pass muster?” He pressed a kiss to the cheek you tilted up for him. 

“I’ll think you’ll do, bubs.” He pulled you in for a hug from behind. “Mmmmm, you smell so good.”

He swayed you back and forth in his arms. “I should, I used all your shampoo…” 

“Cheeky boy.” You craned your neck and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “You want a drink while I make dinner? You can lay on the couch for a bit if you want? You must be exhausted.”

“Oh?” He hadn’t even considered going into the living room, not when you were in the kitchen. “Uhhh, sure, yeah. I’ll take a drink.”

You smiled and pulled back from him. “Old fashioned?” He nodded. You got out a rocks glass from the cabinet and went over to the bar cart in the dining room for the whiskey and bitters. “I got those fancy bitters at that liquor store you like.”

“Did you take care of everything?” He said it to hide his own reddened cheeks, but you appeared equally as bashful.

“Tried too.”

“You gonna have one, too?” 

You nodded. “Yeah, but we’re also having wine with dinner, so just one for now - here you go. Got to start you off slow, Bradshaw.” You slid the glass over to him and held your own out to toast. “To your long awaited homecoming.”

Your eyes locked over the rim of your glasses and you had both barely set them back down on the table before Bradley pressed a kiss to your lips. You tasted like sugar and whiskey and felt like home. 

“Missed you, kid.”

“Missed you, too, rocketman. You have no idea how happy I am that you’re home.” You kissed him again. “Now, you gotta let me finish cooking. The table’s already set, so there’s nothing for you to do, but relax.”

“Fine, fine,” he heaved out a great sigh, “banishing me already and I’ve only been home for a few hours, I see how it is - owww!” You smacked his ass with a dishtowel. “Alright, I’m going, I’m going.”

The living room looked nearly identical to how it had when Bradley had left in December - minus the Christmas tree, of course - but there were still little touches of you everywhere. The pillows were arranged far nicer than Bradley had ever been able to manage and there were three new candles of differing heights on the coffee table. Plus, the cream colored cashmere blanket from your apartment that he always stole was artfully strewn across the back of one of the leather sofas. 

With one glance back towards you in the kitchen - you were completely focused on some Russet potatoes - Bradley flopped onto the couch and tucked himself under the blanket. It was warm and cozy and so comfortable under there in his couch clothes in the house you two shared. Quiet, too, even with some Van Morrison playing from the kitchen. It was the kind of quiet that could lull Bradley to a peaceful sleep, especially after having been ensconced in constant noise for the last three months.

And he tried for half an hour - he really did. He thought of how excited you were to show him the perfectly organized closet and how you’d put all the little bits and bobs you’d gotten for him over the last three months in the guest room for him to look over at his leisure and how he’d corrected you on where the mail should go. 

It was just - it was too quiet and too perfect and too comfy and he just wanted to be with you. Even if it meant sitting on one of the uncomfortable kitchen barstools. 

You shook your head, but smiled as he approached. “You don’t have to watch me, you must be exhausted?”

Bradley shrugged. “Just wanna be near you, kid.” Were you nervous about cooking? Was that why you didn’t want him in the kitchen with you? He backtracked. “If that’s alright?”

You bit your lip and gestured for Bradley to sit at the island in front of you. There were a couple mise en place bowls laying around, but you quickly made room for Bradley and his drink. 

“It’s like a taping of the Barefoot Contessa.”

You chuckled. “Let’s just hope the food’s as good as Ina’s.”

“Walk me through it.”

With a teasing smile on your face, you went back to mincing the garlic - with a glowing comment from Bradley on your newly acquired knife skills - and he just sat there, chin propped up on his hand watching you explain the next couple steps. You even got a yes, chef out of him when you asked him to turn the music down. The roasted potatoes smelled absolutely divine cooking in the oven and you had just finished snipping the ends off the asparagus when your demeanor suddenly changed. You fiddled with your apron tie and abruptly turned around to face him, looking almost surprised by the action, though you wouldn’t exactly look him in the eye.

“Actually, now that you’re here - or here at the table,” you huffed out a laugh, “there’s something I want to talk to you about that happened while you were gone - no, that’s not - something I was thinking about while you were gone?”

You put the burner down on the sauce pan, leaving the minced garlic to simmer before you were facing Bradley yet again. You looked nervous, unsure of yourself, as you played with the bracelet he had gotten you for Christmas. Had something happened while he was gone that you hadn’t told him about? Were you sick? Hurt? Was there someone - no, no, you’d never.

Bradley leaned back in his chair and hoped he sounded surer than he felt. “Sure, uhh, yeah, go ahead.”

“It actually has to do with some emails I sent you - last week, in particular. One of them is actually that email.” You looked down at the granite countertop as Bradley tried to think of which email would constitute italics. “But I also want to talk about one of the other emails, when I messaged you about that dream I had and kind of how that all falls into everything that we’ve been going through and probably will be going through -”

“- Because this is it,” he interrupted. Because you and I are it.

“Yeah. Because this is it,” you returned, equally as resolute. “So…”

Bradley sat up straighter in his chair and cleared his throat. “Which one do you want to talk about first?”

You fiddled with your apron bow. “Maybe the one from the thirteenth?”

“Which one was that?”

Now you definitely were avoiding looking at him. Your words came out slowly, like you dreaded saying them and Bradley had a sudden inkling that he knew exactly which email you were referencing. 

“The one about me needing you. Needing you to take care of me,” you whispered the last part.

He could feel his cheeks coloring. “Oh. Right, yeah.” 

Bradley had never received an email like that before. Had never even received a text like that before. It was just so raw and almost animalistic the way your need for him jumped off the page.

nothing soothes the ache inside me like you do. need you to call me good girl, pretty girl, sweet girl, anything as long as it’s yours.

“I shouldn’t have sent that one to you - especially since if I could’ve waited five more days, none of this would’ve happened. It’s just - I needed you so badly and wanted you - ugh, no! No, I shouldn’t have sent you that email. It wasn’t proper, it was embarrassing for you and me and I was just missing you so much and in such a different way that I’ve never experienced before when you’d been gone and - I couldn’t bear not telling you for another moment. Because no one was there to tell me what to do or -”

You threw your hands out and put them on the top of your head. God, it looked like you were about to cry. And it broke Bradley’s heart. He pushed his barstool back from the island and padded over towards you. 

“Come ‘ere, kid.” 

You let out a sigh and your eyes were swimming with tears as you fell into Bradley’s arms. You felt small in his arms - not necessarily in the physical sense, but like you were folding in on yourself. He needed to take care of you - take you, take you, take you - 

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, whenever you want, it’s fine.” Bradley pressed a kiss to your forehead and squeezed you tighter. You held on to him tightly, which muffled your next words. 

“I’ve never had someone who I need in that way. And it’s not even necessarily about the sex, itself. I could go months without having sex - had before I met you. It was never something I really needed to get by, I guess? I could take care of it on my own. 

“But then - then I met you and you just? You make me need you - make me crave you, you tell me what to do, make me want to please you. And then you just leave for three months and I have to learn how to do all that on my own and it was just so hard? It felt like I dropped? Like everything caught up to me after all those months and weeks and I felt scared and lonely and needy and desperate for you and for you to tell me I’m a good girl and take care of me and be my d - be dominant with me.”

Your breathing quickened as you talked and Bradley felt you getting more worked up. He rubbed his hands across your back, hoping it would soothe the ache inside of you, if only a little bit. “Shh, shh, it’s okay, kid.”

i need you i need you i need you i need you bradley bradley bradley bradley

You sniffled. “I guess I just didn’t think - I mean, I knew other people would see it - and I did think that was kind of hot, especially when you called me out for it - it was only after, when I’d realized what I’d done that I saw how embarrassing it was for you. 

“Like Joe from Comms being like hey, did you know Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw’s girlfriend is a horny, pathetic, subby mess for him? You gotta see it, man. She couldn’t even make it three months without getting fucked. He can’t even take care of his g -”

“- Stop it.” Bradley grabbed your chin. “You know that’s not true.” 

“Maybe.” You shrugged. “But I was already feeling shitty about my mom and being so busy at work and how I loo -” you broke off and Bradley desperately wanted you to finish the thought. “I guess it all caught up to me.”

“But I wrote back. I wrote back and told you everything I wanted you to hear and what you needed to hear. And god, I���d do it again, I’d do it in a heartbeat if it brought you comfort and I probably should’ve done it sooner.” 

nothing stretches me out like you do, nothing makes me feel as small as you do, nothing makes me flush like the sound of your voice against my neck as i come, nothing soothes the ache inside me like you do

You squeezed your arms around his stomach and breathed him in. God, he loved you so much, he’d say anything and do anything to make you realize that. 

“I needed it, what you wrote me, and I needed to tell you what I said, but I should’ve waited so, I’m sorry, can you forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive, kid. You message me when you need me, no matter how.” He kissed your temple. “I know we’ve never really talked about how that part of our relationship would work while I was gone, so maybe next time we just make a plan?”

You nodded. “I’d like that. I know it’s not like that all the time between us, so I didn’t even think of it before you left.”

“I hadn’t either,” he confessed.

Long distance d/s relationship reddit would be Bradley’s best friend over the next few days. Neither of you would have to go through that again, not if he had something to say about it. The whole idea of not being allowed to use anything besides your fingers to masturbate was a good start, but it was just that - a start. Because like you’d said, you two weren’t in that dynamic all the time, but you both needed it. It was new for both of you. You’d just have to come up with a list together. 

But just to give you a little encouragement in the meantime…

“And let’s not forget…” You peered up at him. “You did tell me you read my email seven times…”

You giggled and shoved his shoulder. “Might’ve been an understatement.”

“Oh?”

“I think I came three times that first night alone.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmmhm.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and played with the ends of his hair. “‘Kept picturing you in your bunk writing it while fisting your cock. And then I was laying next to you in your bunk - and it had to be a secret. I had to keep quiet - just like at Thanksgiving - and not make a peep.”

“But you don’t like to be quiet…” 

He crowded you against the island and rolled his hips against yours. The thin fabric of his joggers did little to hide how much he desired you, especially after the conversation you’d just had. 

His subby little girlfriend. God, he couldn’t wait to take you apart bit by bit later. 

Now say thank you Bradley. Good girl. 

Though, that’s not to say that you couldn’t partake in a little preview now. Bradley’s lips crashed against yours, caught up in the furor and headiness of it all, and your body melted against his. Three months later and you still responded so well to him. Your breathy little sighs as he bit your lip and pressed countless kisses along your jawline and neck sounded like heaven. You smelled so sweet, tasted so sweet, felt so sweet - he kissed you again, coaxing your mouth back open.

“Bradley, bubs, I -” you gasped against his lips, “I need to turn the stove off if we’re going to -”

Without taking his lips off yours, Bradley reached behind his back and turned off the gas burner. The garlic still sizzled in the pan, but now without the risk of burning the house down. You could put fresh garlic on later, now he just wanted you. 

His hands went back to their place on your hips before the left slid underneath your oxford and up your body. You stiffened slightly, but welcomed his touch, if only for a moment before you pulled back from him. 

“We have to - I have to finish dinner.” He nodded, albeit reluctantly. You pecked his lips again. 

There was something deeply erotic about waiting - even if it was just for a couple of hours. 

Where are you going to have me first?

In our bed, in our house, after you make me dinner in our kitchen. 

Bradley cleared his throat. “You said you wanted to talk about another email? The one about your dream, right? The one with our kid.”

It felt right saying it - our kid. 

God, Bradley, I wish you were here right now so you could hold me and tell me you loved me because I just want to feel your arms around me and know you’re real. I want to tell you about the little boy - the perfect mix of me and you

“We can wait until dinner - or even after dinner, if you want?” You didn’t give him a chance to respond. “I’m sorry I’m dropping all this on you. I know you’ll say otherwise, but I shouldn’t have done this right when you came home - the dryer hasn’t even finished your first load yet. I know you’re exhausted and definitely have your own stuff to work through after being gone and we should be having sex on the floor or over the arm of the couch, not listening to me blubber -”

Bradley shook his head and interrupted you. He didn’t want to give you another moment to doubt yourself. 

“- Hey, hey. I wanna talk about the heavy stuff with you, it’s okay. And I’d rather we do it now so we can really enjoy these next few days together - and maybe then have sex on the floor and over the arm of the couch. I don’t want this hanging over your head, kid. 

“And you’re not alone in thinking about that over the last few months - it’s probably been even longer for me…”

You wiped at the tears pooling in your eyes. “Really?” 

“You know you’re it for me, kid.” Have been since our fourth date went unsaid. “So, come on, walk me through it.”

You leaned against the back counter near the stove, while Bradley mirrored you against the island. You sighed. 

“I love you so much - sometimes I’m scared that I love you this much and that it’s not quite been a year since we met. And I never thought I’d be so heart achingly in love with someone in the Navy, of all things, and just - sometimes it hits me that you’re not even fully mine? That a part of you will always want to be in the sky or out at sea because you have this other entity that tells you what to do? And when to do it and what to wear and how you should act? Where you’re Rooster and not my Bradley?”

Bradley frowned at the use of his callsign coming from your lips. It didn’t feel right, it didn’t sound right. He didn’t want to be Rooster around you. He liked that he didn’t have to be Rooster around you.

“And it makes me absolutely crazy because you love it and you’re not going to stop - and you shouldn’t stop, not for me! But, god, Bradley, sometimes I want to shake you and hold you down and beg you to stay. Like that fucking story.” You wiped your eyes. 

“It’s all I wanted to tell you when I had that dream. About how I want you to come home so badly. I want you to stay here with me forever and never leave and to have that cute little boy who was the perfect mix of me and you and to have you here in my arms every night. And I know it’s selfish of me to ask or even make you think about it, but I want you right here. I don’t want you looking at the sky when you’re here and wanting to be up there. And I know you don’t either, Bradley. You give everything to everyone, you don’t do things by halves.” 

You both stood there, Bradley stunned by your words, and you, seemingly stunned that you’d actually said them. He took a step towards you, but didn’t cross that final barrier to touch you. He remembered highlighting a particular passage from the story in his response back to you and how he never wanted you to feel the same way as Lily. He didn’t want to let it - flying, the Navy, all of it get a hold of him.

“Don’t ever be a Rocket Man.” I stopped. “I mean it,” he said. “Because when you’re out there you want to be here, and when you’re here you want to be out there. Don’t start that. Don’t let it get hold of you.” “But-“ “You don’t know what it is. Every time I’m out there I think, If I ever get back to Earth I’ll stay there; I’ll never go out again. But I go out, and I guess I’ll always go out.”

You sniffled and wiped your eyes on your sleeve. “And I was so scared when you didn’t get back to me right away. Thought I’d scared you off…” You glanced down at the floor and played with your bracelet. It looked so fragile and dainty on your wrist. “I think I wrote five different responses to you after - deleted all of them.”

Bradley nudged your foot with his own and got you to look up at him. Even though it felt like his tattoo was burning into his skin - xxxix, xxxix, xxxix, the number ran through his head constantly as of late - he tried to put on a brave face. Everything you were saying was what he had been mulling over for the last three months. Thousands of miles apart and you both were still so in-sync. He cleared his throat before speaking. 

“You turned my life on its head when you sent me that story.” Even weeks later, he was still in disbelief. “And I know it wouldn’t have changed anything - not really - but I kept - I keep wondering how my dad would’ve reacted to it? Or my mom? I don’t think it would’ve made anything different, but just knowing about it? Because I don’t want us to have kids and still be a ‘rocket man.’ I don’t want them - that little boy in your dream - to wonder if I want to be up in the sky more than I want to be with him. And be with you. I want to be around, I want to be their dad and your husband. I love it, I love flying. But I don’t love it more than being with you and having a family with you. I don’t want to die in an F18 with a family at home.”

You let out a sob and he wrapped his arms around you and slowly swayed you from side to side. “Kid, I got six more years and then I’m all yours.” He could feel your tears seeping into his shirt as you cried. “It’s like what I said after you sent me that story - I don’t want our kids chasing ghosts. Not like I did.”

“You’d give us your wild?” you whispered. 

Bradley nodded and felt his own eyes welling up. “I want us to have what my mom and I didn’t. And it’s not that my mom wasn’t enough, but there was always a piece missing for both of us - Maverick, too.” You wiped the tears away from his eyes. “I love you, so, so much, kid. You know I’m gonna marry you. And I just want to be yours when it comes time for us to have a family.”

Honestly, it was a relief that you’d brought all this up. It only reaffirmed the thought that had been bouncing around Bradley’s head lately.

You two wouldn’t have kids until he was out of the Navy. 

There were six years until Bradley could put in his twenty years and retire. It was a little fucked, honestly, and he was sure his therapist would have plenty to say about it. But why not avoid something that could end in tragedy for everyone involved?

Why run the risk?

Bradley wasn’t dying in an F18 with a family at home.  

And he knew his logic wasn’t exactly sound. It didn’t entirely make sense even to himself. There would be plenty of times over the next six years where he could get into an accident or not come home from a mission. He understood that. 

Except, currently, there wasn’t a kid waiting at home for him. There wasn’t a three year old Bradley waiting at home and being told by his mom that his dad wasn’t coming home. He knew that if you had a family, it would be harder for you to move on if something happened to him. And he didn’t want to put you and any future little nuggets through that. He didn’t want to be a rocketman with them.

Bradley wasn’t dying in an F18 with a family at home. 

He wasn’t going to do that to your family. So, why not just wait to have a family until after he got out of the Navy? It seemed obvious. Perfectly so. The words had been ready to pour out of his mouth, except you beat him to it.

“I know,” your cleared the scratchiness out of your throat, “we talked about waiting to have kids until a couple years after we get married, but if you want to wait until you retire, we’ll do it. And then we’ll get all of you. I want to do everything with you, Bradley.”

Give you my wild, give you a child.

Bradley wrapped you up in his arms and squeezed you hard. “I love you, I love you, I love you. God, I love you so much.” He kissed your forehead and cheeks and lips and tried his damndest to pour all the love he had for you into it.

“I love you, too, Bradley,” you said simply. 

And maybe it wasn’t exactly healthy to wait and almost be consumed by this desperate need to control both your lives and have a countdown clock to when everything would be okay. Because maybe things wouldn’t be okay in six years? And maybe you and Bradley would get in a car accident tomorrow or maybe you both would have trouble having kids or or or…

But Bradley wasn’t dying in an F18 with a family at home.  

He would need to talk about this with his therapist at some point. The therapist the Navy gave him eighteen months ago after he ‘recklessly’ went back to save Maverick. The therapist that he just never stopped seeing even though he was cleared from last April. 

“We’re a bit of a mess, aren’t we?” Bradley asked after a moment.

You pulled back. “Maybe? And maybe it’s a little extreme for both of us to think like that, but we’ll make it work, okay? However we have to, we’ll make it work for us.” You punctuated your words with a quick kiss over his heart. 

“Oh dear,” you said suddenly. Bradley tensed up. “I got tears on your shirt.” 

He chuckled. “Don’t worry about it, I know you can afford to get me a new one.” You shoved his shoulder and you both laughed. And just like that, the mood was lifted. 

Bradley had been right earlier - he felt lighter. You looked lighter. And that wasn’t to say that you’d looked gloomy or upset or scared before, but your shoulders weren’t as tense and you kept smiling, at him, at whatever you were cooking, at nothing.

This could be his life every night. You could be together like this forever. Cooking dinner side by side, talking about where the mail should go (it very much was not on the hall table, that was for damn sure), complaining about Mr. Harrington next door or arguing over who should vacuum. All the little things that made that big life together. The one you both wanted so badly. 

And contrary to your earlier statement, you did make you and Bradley another drink before dinner. In fact, it probably was what gave you the courage to attempt to flip the chicken in the saucepan like a regular José Andrés. (Even more surprising was the fact that you didn’t drop any.)

Once the potatoes finished, you swapped them in the oven for the asparagus, hoping the former would cool while the latter was roasting. All the while, you talked Bradley through everything - how much oil you added to the asparagus, where you’d gotten the potatoes, and the recipe for the chocolate cake you’d made for dessert. 

It was - well, Bradley didn’t really have a word for what it was. His first thought was how nice it was seeing you so confident and capable and proud of yourself. But his second thought was that it was also oddly stirring seeing you do all this for him while he just watched. 

Watched his pretty little girlfriend bopping around the kitchen, bopping around the house making sure everything was perfect for him. All you needed was a pretty little dress and a string of pearls to match your earrings. His pretty little housewife. Mrs Bradshaw. Bent over the kitchen island, wearing nothing but a frilly white apron and a pearl necklace as he fucked you from behind -

“All set!” Your cheerful voice interrupted Bradley’s fantasy before it could really start. He had zoned out while you’d been prattling on about the herb cutting scissors you wanted to get at Crate & Barrel. “Shall we?”

Bradley readjusted himself before getting up from his seat and helping you bring the drinks and serving dishes into the dining room. 

Mrs Bradshaw.

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

“So, how is it?” you asked once the food had been served and the wine had been poured. You had your chin propped up on your fist as you watched Bradley take the first few, slow bites of food. 

It was good. It was more than good, it was excellent. It was hot and perfectly seasoned and all the textures were just right. And it wasn’t just because he’d been on an aircraft carrier, eating out of the officer’s mess everyday. Because the food was actually pretty good on the carrier and the Aussies had even treated him to a couple meals. 

But he wouldn’t be Bradley and you wouldn’t be you if he didn’t mess with you a little. He tilted his head back and forth, trying to look like he was mulling it over. “It’s good…”

You nudged his foot under the table once you saw the smile threatening to break out on his face. “You ass.” The words lacked any heat.

Bradley took another bite of potatoes before speaking. “It’s really good, kid, seriously. You killed it. Seemed like you really enjoyed it, too.”

“I did,” you nodded, “I just always used to be so nervous I’d undercook something and make everyone sick, you know? Or that people would be lying to me about the food and that it was burnt or under-seasoned or something? But those lessons really helped and made me more confident, which is exactly why you gave them to me, so thank you.”

Maybe it wasn’t exactly why he had given them to you, but…

“You’re very welcome.”

Dinner continued on with only light hearted conversation after that. What Reuben and Bob were planning for their leave (Reuben and his wife were going up the coast for a mini-break and then building out the nursery for their baby, while Bob was going home to see his parents), the work you had to finish up before your trip, and what you both were hoping to get out of your vacation (good food, a tan, reading plenty of books, and having copious amounts of sex). 

All the while, Bradley had another helping of everything, except the potatoes, of which he had two additional helpings - you refrained from seconds entirely. You two must have sat at the table for over two and a half hours, talking and eating and laughing. It was perfect. Bradley helped you bring the dishes back into the kitchen; both of you were more than happy to deal with them a little later. 

And then there was the dessert. The chocolate cake looked heavenly - Ina’s recipe, of course - and you asked Bradley if he wanted an espresso martini to wash it down.

“What? ‘You trying to get me drunk?” 

You put your hand over your heart. “I would never! Though, I know your tolerance might be a little shot. Did that affect your stamina, too?”

“Ha, ha, ha hilarious.” He took the cake plate and knife from you while you went over to the bar to make the martinis. “I’ll have you know that the Aussies were very accommodating hosts.”

“The Aussies, huh?”

Bradley shrugged. It wouldn’t be an issue to tell you now, not after he’d been dying to mention it for the past few weeks. “It’s not classified or anything, they just don’t like us talking about it in the moment.”

“Wait,” you came back into the dinning room with a coupe half filled in your right hand. “Did you go to Australia?” 

“Possibly…” You shot him a look. “We do this joint training exercise with them every year. Last year was my first year.”

“That’s so cool! Did you spend much time actually on land or…” You went back to preparing the drinks and tossed your next question over your shoulder. “When was it? I think I saw something about it in the news.”

“After you got back from London. It was just a week for the actual exercise, but there were a lot of meetings in the lead up, we did a couple war-games, too. We were mainly in New South Wales with the aviators, but went up to the North Western Territory for the actual exercises.”

Last year, Bradley hadn’t had the opportunity to really get too involved in the planning aspects and being on base - his promotion hadn’t come through yet, so he had been just a lowly lieutenant - but his elevated rank granted him that privilege this year. 

“Wait, that’s so cool, I’ll have to read up on it more! I definitely remember hearing about it on the news, should’ve made the connection.” You came back over with the drinks. “How were the other pilots? This isn’t going to be some Manchurian Candidate bullshit, is it?”

Bradley barked out a laugh. “Nah, that’ll be Bob.”

“Did it have a fun name? They always seem to!” 

Bradley took a sip of his martini. Damn it was delicious. “Exercise Talisman Sabre - R-E. You want me to cut the cake?”

You nodded. Bradley pulled the cake stand closer to his seat. The cake was stunning. The frosting was definitely homemade and the white piping on the top looked perfect. “‘You take a picture of it yet?” 

“Of the cake?”

“Gotta commemorate this, it’s gorgeous. Need one with you, too!” You smiled bashfully as Bradley snapped a couple pics with his phone and then put it face-up on the table. The picture of the two of you at your Christmas party before his deployment smiled back up at him. 

You sat back down in your chair. “Here’s hoping it tastes just as good.”

There would still be plenty of cake for leftovers, but Bradley thought the two of you deserved a little something extra tonight and measured the first piece a little bigger than he normally would. 

“Oh. You can have that one. I’ll take a smaller piece.” He went to cut another piece, slightly smaller than his. “Little smaller.” He kept scooching the knife closer and closer for your approval until it was only about a third of the size of his piece. “That’s perfect, thanks.”

You took a huge first bite of cake and Bradley did the same. “Oh, god. It’s so good,” he said. “I need the recipe so I can make this every week.” 

Your fork froze midair for a moment, before you took a slightly smaller piece this time. “I don’t know if I can handle this every week...” You chuckled. 

Bradley moaned. “But the ganache! The whipped frosting on the top! Sweetheart, it’s so good. The world cannot be deprived of its beauty.”

That got a proper laugh out of you. “‘You writing sonnets about cake now?”

“I’ll write sonnets about you, this cake, anything you want, you got me in a good mood, kid.” He licked the frosting off his fork and then went back in for the final two bites. 

“That might just be the martini talking, bubs. Here,” you slid your barely eaten plate over towards him, “you can have the rest of mine.”

Bradley frowned. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I had extra batter and made some cupcakes. Had one this morning. I’m chocolate cake’d out.” 

He was a little dubious since you loved chocolate cake, but took your words at face value. 

“But first,” you swiped some extra frosting off your plate and streaked it across Bradley’s cheek, “you got a little something on your face, bubs.”

“Oh no,” he laid it on thick, “guess you’ll have to come over here and help me clean it off.”

In a flash, you were on him - arms wrapped around his neck, legs astride his thigh. Your feet remained firmly on the ground, but Bradley wanted all your weight on him, reminding him that he was here in the house you shared and not back in his bunk on the carrier. 

“There we go.” You swiped the frosting off his cheek and sucked the excess off your finger. “My pretty boy again.”

He smiled. “You say that like you haven’t wanted to fuck me since we got home.”

Your jaw dropped at his words. “I’m trying to draw out the anticipation!” Bradley squeezed your hips and you shifted your weight on his thigh. This time your words came out quieter. “Thought you wanted me in our bed the first time back?” You pressed light kisses across his neck and jawline until you nipped at his ear. “The same bed I’ve been getting myself off in every night since I brought my stuff over.”

“But just like I asked, right? Just your fingers?” You nodded. “Good girl.”

You ducked your head at the praise and then pulled yourself even closer to him before capturing his lips in a deep kiss. You tasted like espresso and chocolate and Bradley wanted to take you right there on the dining room table with little regard for the state of his stem and dish-ware. Slowly, you rocked your body on his lap and let out a breathy gasp against his lips. The seam on your jeans must have been driving you absolutely crazy, but you didn’t let up. And, frankly, Bradley didn’t want you to - all he wanted right now was to keep kissing you, keep pressing his chest against yours, keep grabbing at your hips over your shirt. Except that soon wasn’t enough. 

He slipped his hand underneath your shirt and went straight for your lace bra. He smiled against your lips. Good girl. You wore his favorite one. His hand slid lower to drag his fingers across the soft skin of your stomach and side. God, you were so warm. So soft. But he couldn’t linger on the spot for too long after you pushed his hand away and gestured for him to get up.

Without separating yourselves for too long, you and Bradley made your way from making out on his dining table chair to making out on the couch. You were on your back, half wedged between the back cushion, and entirely under Bradley’s bulk. 

God, had he missed this. Touching you, kissing you, holding you, fucking you. You’d already talked for hours, now he wanted to kiss you for them. 

The couch felt ten times more inviting with you now than it had earlier in the evening when it had just been Bradley. Because now he had you underneath him with your head on the throw pillows he had made note of earlier, now the candles on the coffee table were lit and were the perfect complement to your perfume, and now the cashmere blanket he had always loved was half draped over you both.

This was where you’d watch movies together at night, where you’d open Christmas presents, where you’d ride him after a long day at work, where you’d have meals with the news on in the background, where your kids would watch TV. 

“I love you,” you rasped against his lips. “I love you so much.”

“Love you, love you, love you,” he repeated.

It could have been twenty minutes or an hour later, but now the two of you were just laying side by side on the couch. You were wrapped in Bradley’s arms, nestled against his chest, where you had been pressing little kisses against his neck for the last five minutes. Occasionally, you’d play with the ends of his hair or drag your finger across the scars on his neck. 

Bradley pressed a light kiss to your temple. “This has been really nice, thank you. I’ve never had someone to come home to - not like this.”

You tilted your head up and bit your lip, looking adorably flustered. “I always want to be here when you come home. And I wanted to do something nice for you, make you happy.”

“You made me very happy, always do.”

“Always, huh?” you teased. You kissed his neck. Nipped at his neck. 

Bradley mimicked your tone. “Well, not when I saw the way you put the mail on the hall table…” 

“You gonna punish me?” There was a little glint in your eyes as you said it.

While the idea had plenty of merit, Bradley didn’t want that tonight, he wanted everything to be soft and slow, so he could really get his fill of you. Plus, you’d be so fucking tight for him, so responsive to his touch, he wanted to make that drag out as long as possible. He wanted you to babble, he wanted you to beg.

“Not tonight, but maybe tomorrow if you’re good for me?” He pinched your side and you let out a giggle and then suddenly sat up on the couch, almost startled.

“I should do the dishes, don’t want to leave them for too long. You can head upstairs, though.” You cupped his cheek and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“You sure you don’t need any help?” he said the last word through a yawn. 

“Nope!” You smiled over your shoulder and headed off to the kitchen. “You’re off the hook. I’m gonna finish putting these in the dishwasher and lock-up while you go upstairs and get ready, okay?”

Bradley scrunched his nose. “Is this gonna be a normal thing? You doing all the housework? Because that’s not gonna slide, roomie.”

“Oh, so I’m just your roommate now?” you teased. You bent over the dishwasher to put some larger plates in the back. “I see how it is, Bradshaw.”

He doubled back over to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your back against his chest. “Got a feeling you’re gonna be my last one,” he murmured against your neck before he pressed kisses against it. 

It was like you melted against him. God, you smelled so pretty and tasted so pretty and looked so pretty and sounded so pretty giggling. And Bradley had never felt so welcomed home before. He couldn’t wait to do this with you every night. 

“Bradley,” you sighed and turned around to face him. “The sooner you let me finish, the sooner I can come upstairs…” You pecked him on the lips. 

Upstairs. Where Bradley would take care of you. 

Take care of you. Take you. Take you take you take you -

He groaned and gave you a longer kiss. “Okay, okay, okay.” He kissed you between each word. “But this is the last time you’re getting away with this...”

“I’ll hold you to it.” You kissed him again. “Now go! Get into something comfortable, powder your nose, touch up your hair -”

“I’m going, I’m going,” he promised. “Don’t be too long, we can always do everything tomorrow morning.”

You waved him off good-naturedly and went about setting the kitchen to rights. Bradley smiled at the sight of you already appearing so at home in his house - your house and headed upstairs. With startling alacrity despite the numerous drinks he’d had and the late hour, Bradley quickly brushed his teeth, did his skincare routine, and turned down the bed for your arrival. 

Even a floor apart, he could still hear the sounds of you puttering around downstairs. If he concentrated really hard, he could imagine exactly what you were doing. 

You had just opened the silverware drawer, probably had just washed and dried something - oh right, he had noticed you used the hand-wash-only salad tongs for the asparagus. Then you opened the tupperware cabinet and got out some snapware and eventually opened the freezer, putting the leftover chicken piccata away for another meal. Then there was the sound of the cake plate on the granite countertop and more snapware. He was still surprised you hadn’t eaten much cake, much of any of the food really, but chalked it up to nerves or excitement at his homecoming.

With a sigh, Bradley laid back against the fluffy pillows lining the headboard. God, he had missed this. His high thread count sheets, your fancy Laundress detergent, his side of the bed - and more importantly, you being on the other side. He stretched and let out a groan, getting comfortable. 

This was perfect. He was home - in the house you now shared. You were going to come upstairs - probably in some cute little outfit - and give him a proper welcome home. Bradley bet you even got a new matching set just for the occasion. The two of you had gotten all the tough conversations out of the way - for the most part - so now you could really enjoy these next few days together before your trip. 

And Bradley was so excited to go to Punta Mita with you. You had done such an amazing job planning everything. He had done some additional research on his flight home earlier and definitely wanted to hit up the spa and maybe sneak in a round of golf over the ten day trip. Plus, you definitely had the cutest fucking outfits planned. He always liked that, imagining what you were wearing while he was gone. The sporadic pictures hadn’t been enough. You always looked so pretty and he always needed to tell you. 

Pretty, pretty, pretty. His pretty girlfriend. Downstairs, making sure everything was all set. He yawned. Mmmmm, he hoped you’d be upstairs soon. His eyelids were getting heavy. 

And it was so warm and comfy and his stomach was full and everything smelled so good and he was here. 

Finally, he was here with you. 

In your house, talking about your future. 

Maybe if he just closed his eyes for a few minutes. Maybe if he just took a quick nap…

a/n - sorry for the cliff hanger, but it's the PERFECT spot for a break! next part will have that first night back AND the lead up to their trip, which will be in the final part! couldn't have gotten this done without all the encouraging messages and texts over the last few weeks - special shout out to @sometimesanalice @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @ofstoriesandstardust @cherrycola27 @heartsofminds and @greenorangevioletgrass xxjordan

[bloatedandalone04]

Eyes (Not) On Me

➪the one where bradley loses a fight and you make him feel better while also giving him a confidence boost.

Warnings: boxer bradley, angst, fluff, smut, blowjobs, mentions of injuries, mentions of blood, descriptions of injuries, swearing

Word Count: 3k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Bradley was sitting on the couch, his face a bloody mess after losing his match in the ring. 

You were next to him, gently wiping away the blood on his face with a cloth as he watched himself get the shit beaten out of him on the TV screen. “Baby, you shouldn’t be watching that,” you say quietly, pressing the white cloth against the cut on his forehead. 

“I have to, babygirl,” he muttered in a low voice, wincing as you pressed the fabric against his skin. “I need to know where I went wrong.” He continued watching  himself get pummeled to the floor, his opponents fists meeting his face over and over again. 

“You just had a slip up, that’s all,” you murmured, kissing the cut after you finished cleaning it. “You miscalculated his move.”

Bradley leaned into your touch, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “I’ve had too many slip ups lately,” he grunted, “I can’t keep throwing matches, babygirl. This is my career.”

“I know,” you whisper, smoothing out his damp hair. Whether it was damp from sweat or blood or both, you didn’t know. “What can I do?”

He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you onto his lap, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Just being here is enough, baby,” he said quietly, nuzzling his sore face against the side of your neck.

“I want to help you,” came your hushed response as you ran your fingers through his hair. “How can I help you, baby?”

Bradley pulls you closer to him. “Just being here, just being with me… it helps more than you know,” he promised, leaning back against the couch and pulling you with him. 

“I just feel useless…watching you in that ring, taking you home and cleaning you up just so you can do it all again,” you mumble, bracing your hands on his shoulders, not putting nearly as much pressure as you normally do. “I want to do more for you.”

Bradley pulled you right up against him, his shirt still a bit damp with sweat from the fight. “You’re not useless, babygirl,” he whispered, burying his face in your hair and inhaling your sweet scent. “Having you with me, the way you’re so careful with me when you clean me up…it means the world.”

“Are you sure?” You ask quietly.

He pulled back. “Of course I’m sure. You’re my rock, my everything,” he brings a hand up to brush a strand of hair out of your face, gently caressing your cheek. “You and I both know how fucking lost I was without you.”

You give him a small smile, the reminder of your brief breakup still a painful memory. “Yeah,” you trailed off, gently tracing your thumb along the cut on his lip. “How bad does it hurt?” 

“It’s not too bad. I’ve had worse,” he answered, but you saw the way he winced when you brushed the tip of your finger along the slit in his lip. 

He was trying to play it off, but you knew him better than anyone else. “Bradley,” you gave him a look and added a hint of warning to your tone. 

He sighed, “Okay, it does hurt a fuckton,” 

You shake your head, leaning down and kissing his cheek softly instead of his lips. 

Bradley leaned into your touch, his lip pouting a bit when you pulled away. “You missed,”

“Not with that cut, baby,” you hummed, pulling away and reaching for the cloth again. 

He groaned, leaning back again and watching as you lifted the cloth back up to his face. “Fine, but as soon as it heals, you’re mine,”

“Like always,” you laughed, gently wiping away the dried blood on his chin. 

Bradley placed his hand on your thigh. “Damn right,” he grinned, splitting his lip further and making it bleed again. You shake your head, pressing the cloth to the cut just as you heard the announcer reveal the winner of the fight Bradley took part in an hour and a half ago. He sighed, his eyes moving behind you as he glared at the TV, his jaw locking. 

“Ignore it,” you requested quietly, pulling the cloth away from his mouth. “Please.”

“How can I ignore it when he’s rubbing it in my face?” He lifted his hand and frustratedly gestured to the screen. 

You look over your shoulder and watch as Grant Dunn raises his hand in victory, his own face beaten and bloody from the hits Bradley got on him. Turning your back to the TV again, you lean down and press your lips to the skin below your boyfriend’s ear. “Just stop watching it,”

Bradley moaned softly, his gaze still fixated behind you as you heard the crowd start to boo Grant. “I can’t,” he protested. “I need to see where I went wrong.”

“You did nothing wrong,” you whispered, trailing the tip of your nose along his jaw.

Another soft moan left his lips and his eyes flickered shut for a few seconds as you nuzzled against him. “Babygirl, you’re distracting me,” he mumbled, gripping your thigh a bit tighter. 

“Good, that’s what I’m trying to do,” you say quietly, stroking his jaw with your thumb. “You don’t need to be watching that stuff.”

He swallowed hard, “But I need to know where I fucked up,” his voice was more of a low growl now, his breathing becoming ragged. 

“You did nothing wrong,” you promise, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

Bradley lets out a guttural moan, his hand inching up towards your thigh as he tries to keep his focus on the TV. “You don’t understand, baby,” he mumbled. “I need to watch it…I need to figure out…”

“Figure out what?” You ask, tracing your finger along the base of his throat. “You don’t need to figure out anything right now.”

He swallows harshly again, his throat pushing against your fingers. “I need to know how I lost,” he trailed off, his focus slowly turning to you instead of the screen. 

“No, you don’t,” you murmur. “You don’t.”

Bradley groans quietly, his nails digging into the skin of your hip. You could tell that he was allowing himself to give in to you, yet he was still pissed off about the loss. You wanted to make him feel better, and you knew he was a sucker for your mouth. 

“Don’t watch it,” you whisper, an idea forming in your head as you lean up to kiss his forehead, right on the spot next to his cut. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

He let out a groan of frustration, and you could see how worked up he was getting. “I can’t think when you’re doing this,” 

“Do you want me to stop?” You ask, pulling away from him. 

It was almost comical how quickly he grabbed your hips and pulled you back to him. “Don’t you dare,” 

“Then stop watching the TV and keep your eyes on me,” you mumble, caressing the sides of his beautiful and bruised face. 

Bradley’s hands slide down your thighs, gripping you tightly as he nods. “Fuck it. Forget the fight. Forget everything,” 

“Good,” you say, your voice quiet as you lean in and gently press your lips to the cut on his chin. He moans, his hands reaching up to tangle in your hair as he leans back. “I just want to help you. Any way that I can.”

He pulls you closer, his hips bucking up against you. “You’re helping me already,” he mumbled, looking up at you with dark eyes. 

You smile at him, reaching in between your bodies until you’re palming him through his jeans. He was already hard, and the feeling of him grinding against your touch made you smile. “What do you want from me?” You asked, leaning down to bump your nose against his. “What do you want me to do?”

Bradley lets out a low moan, his hands shaking a bit from everything he’s holding inside right now. “Anything. I just want you, baby,”

When he tries to move your body on top of his, you hold back a needy sound and move off his lap to sit next to him. “You just went nine rounds. You’re too sore for that,”

He groaned, leaning over to press his forehead against yours. “I don’t care how sore I am. I need you,” 

You bite your lip before kissing his cheek. “Let me do the work,” you offered, sliding your hand up his thigh. 

Bradley nods with wide eyes, his body tense and his voice rough. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Yeah, baby. Take care of me.”

“Always,” you smile and reach for the zipper on his jeans. 

His teeth bite down onto his sore lip, a quiet hiss escaping his mouth as he looks at you like you were his entire world. “God, I need you so much,” 

You could tell, he was rock hard and pressing against his boxers as you spoke, “How much?” you teased anyway, pushing down his jeans. 

He lifted his hips, helping you guide his jeans down to his knees. “So much, babygirl. So fucking much,” 

You reach down to grope him through his boxers, raising a brow as you gazed up at him. “Do you want me here?”

Bradley lets out a deep moan, his body arching towards you as he nodded. “Yeah. I want you,” his voice was a rough whisper now, “I need you. Touch me, please.”

It was always so amazing to see your big, strong boyfriend practically melt when he got into the mood. Some may find it out of character or weak, but you found it unbelievably sexy. “Tell me, do you want my mouth or my hand?”

He groaned, “I want your mouth, baby,”

You grin, leaning down to kiss him through the dark fabric of his boxer briefs. He lets out a string of curses, his hand reaching for your hair as you brush your nose along his length. “I need you to do something for me,” 

“Anything, babygirl. I’ll do anything,” he said right away, making you smile as you kiss him again.

“I want you to look at the TV,” 

He grunts, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t want to, baby. I want to look at you,” his voice sounded a bit desperate as his body trembled. 

“Shh, baby,” you cooed, “Just look at the TV.”

He lets out a soft sigh, reluctantly turning his gaze to the TV screen. The announcers are talking about the intense fight and are now replaying the footage of his loss over and over.

“Good,” you hum, beginning to palm him. “What do you see?”

He groans as you start to touch him, his body arching up towards your hand. He forces himself to focus on the TV screen, his eyes fixated on his face receiving the very same cuts you just so carefully cleaned up. “I see myself losing like a weak bitch,” he answered, his voice harsh but his attention now divided between you and the screen. 

You lift your head, giving him a look. “How does it make you feel?”

“Frustrated…angry…pissed off. Embarrassed. I want to win,” he growled. “I want to prove that I’m the best.”

“You are, baby,” you swore, pushing his boxers down. 

His eyes flicker to you, the anger dissolving instantly. “Yeah?”

You nod and he reaches down to take your jaw in his big hand. “Yeah,” you repeat, kissing his palm. “Look at the TV again.” 

Bradley nods, his eyes moving back to the screen and he watches his beaten body be counted out by the referee. You lean down and kiss his thigh, trailing your hand up the smooth skin before hovering it over his cock,

“Tell me again how you feel,”

Bradley clenched his jaw, his eyes staring at his bloody face. “Pissed, annoyed, angry,”

You hum before grabbing his base and kissing his tip. “And how do you feel now?” You asked before taking him into your mouth. 

He moaned, his hand tangling in your hair again as he answered you in a broken whisper, “Fuck, baby…feels good,” 

You moan around him at the praise, slowly beginning to bob your head up and down. With your attention fully on him, you were able to tune out the sound of the blows being landed on the TV behind you. You saw it firsthand, you really didn’t need to see Bradley get his face punched in again. 

His free hand gripped the couch cushion, his eyes hooded as he stared past you. “Your mouth feels so good,” he continued to praise you, threading his bruised fingers through your hair. 

You pull off him, stroking him for a few seconds as you spoke, “Tell me how you feel now,”

Bradley groaned deeply as you began sucking on him again, his head tipping back. “I feel…fuck, like I’m in heaven, babygirl,” he responded in a hoarse whisper, clearly struggling to form proper sentences. “Your mouth is incredible.”

You moan again, taking him all the way before pulling back off. “What’s happening now?”

He dropped his head back down and glanced at the TV. “They’re talking about how I lost,” he grunted, no longer sounding angry. “They’re talking about Grant.”

“Look at yourself,” you mumble, stroking his spit coated cock as you gazed up at him. 

Bradley huffed, his fingers tightening their hold on your hair. “I look beat to hell, baby. Like I’m not strong enough,”

You shake your head, kissing along his length. “You are. Keep looking at yourself, okay?”

He groaned and nodded, and you took him into your mouth again. You hollow your cheeks, getting your mouth as tight as you could as you started to suck him off. Bradley moaned softly as you used your spit to help guide your mouth on him easier, his fullness definitely a lot to take in. 

How you landed yourself a hot, big, boxer boyfriend who was also packing, you’d never know. 

“Baby,” he whispered, bunching up the strands of your hair between his fingers. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

You moan in response, closing your throat around him once you take him all the way. You knew your throat would definitely be sore later on, and your voice would probably be wrecked, but you lived for the times you got to have him like this. He was embarrassed and angry at himself, and you wanted to make him feel better in one of the best ways you knew how. 

Bradley groaned again, louder this time as he released the cushion and curled his fist instead. “How do you feel, baby?” You asked, licking up the side of his cock as you looked up at him through your lashes. 

“So fucking good, baby,” he rasped, bucking into your hand. “I feel so overwhelmed right now…in the best way.”

“Good,” you hummed. “I want you to remember this feeling whenever you see yourself on screen. I want you to feel like this.”

Bradley let out a deep, raspy moan as he nodded. “I will,” he promised as you wrapped your lips around his tip again. “I’ll remember how good you make me feel and how fucking lucky I am.”

You moan, blushing even with his cock in your mouth. “Do you wanna come?” 

He tore his eyes away from the screen and looked down at you, spit dripping on your chin and your lips a bit puffy, and this time you let him. “Yeah, babygirl. I want to come. Please, I need it,” 

You glance over at the screen, seeing his body on the floor of the ring. “Whenever you watch this, think about how good you feel right now, okay?” 

He nods, his eyes wide as you take him all the way to his base again and suck harshly. His hand was pulling on your hair now as he gently fucked your mouth. Your eyes were watering a bit as you gripped his thighs and listened to his deep grunts and moans. “Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he warned, breathless as you sped up the pace a bit and moaned around him. His head fell back against the top of the couch, his hand reaching blindly for yours as he tensed. “Fuck, I’m coming, baby. Holy fuck.”

You swallowed every drop of him as he came, lacing your fingers with his as you slowly sucked him until his body relaxed completely. After the fight and now this, he was spent, and you gently pulled your mouth off him. “How do you feel now?” You asked, wiping at your chin with your free hand. 

“God, babygirl, I feel amazing,” he said quietly, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you onto his lap. “That was so good…you make me feel so fucking good. Like I can do anything.”

“You can,” you whisper, “Anything you want to do, you can.”

Bradley grinned lazily at you, “You’re perfect, baby. I might need to start taking you to my training sessions from now on,”

“Yeah?” You laugh, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, making sure not to put too much pressure on him. “You wanna show off for me?”

His grin turned into a smirk as he slowly nodded. “Hell yeah I do. I want you with me all the time, you know that,”

You smile, caressing his jaw. “Wherever you want me to be, I’m there,” you promise, kissing his forehead. “I’m so proud of you, baby.”

“Even after I lost tonight?” He asked and took your chin in his thumb and index finger when you nodded. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you. You’re the sweetest, kindest, sexiest woman I’ve ever met.”

A blush took over your face as you smiled up at him, placing your hand on the side of his neck. “I love you,”

Bradley leaned down to press his forehead against yours. “I love you, too, babygirl. More than anything,”

-

I had to revisit these two 🫶

[mamawasatesttube]

prompt 24: "you owe me a kiss" ?

There's someone leaning on the table next to Kon.

Approaching from the bar, Tim can't see his face, but the too-casual-to-be-casual pose, the posturing, the flirty gestures... The way he's leaning down over Kon as Kon sits, saving the table for Tim to get back...

Tim's eyes narrow. Kon's a snack at any given time, to be sure (and especially tonight, in that tight-fitting top and tiny little skirt), but seriously? Hitting on him when Tim is right here?

"—flattered, but I'm here with someone," Kon says, smiling politely. "Have a nice night, though!"

"Aw, come on," the dude cajoles. Tim mentally rebrands him as That Fucking Guy. His disdain mounts. "Oldest line in the book, babe! I don't see anyone here with you. You sure you don't wanna—"

Maybe it's rude, but whatever. Tim intentionally shoves past That Fucking Guy a bit roughly. Frankly, he should count himself grateful Tim doesn't "accidentally" dump a beer all over him.

"Oops!" he says with venomously false cheer. "Didn't see you there. Here, angel, I got you your raspberry mojito."

He sets the glass down in front of Kon, slips his arm around his shoulders, and shamelessly leans down to kiss him. Overkill? Maybe, but it's viciously satisfying to shut That Fucking Guy down so dramatically. Serves him right for not taking the first no as an answer.

Besides, Kon is all Tim's. Hmph. Who does that guy even think he is?

When he draws back, Kon grins at him, eyes dancing. That Fucking Guy is staring awkwardly at them both.

"Told you I'm here with someone," Kon says, and tugs Tim down into his lap. He's about to say something polite to dismiss the guy, but Tim cuts in.

"He's mine," Tim informs him, staring daggers. He offers a smile that's all teeth. "Also, next time someone says 'no', you should maybe consider backing off. Just food for thought!"

"Jesus, okay, I get it, sorry," That Fucking Guy mutters, thoroughly ashamed. Tim watches with vindictive satisfaction as he turns tail and flees back towards the bar.

Kon hooks his chin over his shoulder, grinning. His cheeks are pink. "Ooh," he giggles. "I'm yours, Mister Drake? Am I all yours and only yours?"

Tim swivels to pin him with what he hopes is an unimpressed stare. He has a feeling he's off by several orders of magnitude. (Can't blame him when Kon's sitting here giggling so cutely while dressed like that, okay? Cute and hot at the same time is a deadly combination.)

"Yes," Tim says. "You are."

Kon's flush darkens, his cheeks visibly rosy even in the dimness. "...Yeah." He grins, buries his face in Tim's neck, and then giggles again. His nose bumps Tim's collarbone. "I love when you go full bitch mode at people," he teases; Tim can feel the curve of his smiling mouth against his neck. "Don't tell me you're jealous. You know you're my one and only."

"I know," Tim assures him. Something warm settles deep into his chest. He rubs his thumb over the fuzzy shaved hair at the base of Kon's head, and Kon hums. "It's not jealousy. I just think everyone else should know, too."

Kon laughs outright. Then he lifts his head, his eyes dancing as he meets Tim's gaze. His lipstick is slightly smudged, the glitter on his cheeks glimmering in the low light. "You owe me a kiss."

Tim raises an eyebrow. "I just gave you one." A pause. "Not that I'm opposed to more. But why do I owe you?"

"You left me to sit here all alone, guarding our table." Kon brushes his nose against Tim's. "You owe me for the trouble and heartache. You left me all alone on date night..."

"What, valiantly rescuing you from That Fucking Guy wasn't enough?" Tim asks. His hand curves along Kon's jaw.

Kon snorts. "You named him that in your head, didn't you?"

Tim wisely says nothing.

"He said his name was Bradley," Kon informs him.

"Angel," Tim says, cradling Kon's cheek in his palm. Kon leans into his touch, eyes closing in bliss. "I don't give a singular shit."

Kon lets out another peal of gorgeous laughter. "Yeah," he says, as Tim leans in. "I know."

[foreveraweirdoneslife]

Like No Time Has Passed At All [icemav]

(Link to AO3 here)

Summary: The dagger mission was successful and old married icemav are having some fun in the bedroom while Bradley is in the house, too.

A/N: This is just a little smutty idea that plopped into my head after re-watching TGM a couple of days ago and which kept me from continuing with You Can Be My Wingman Anytime. But now that this one is out of my system, I can go back to writing that one too.

Pairing: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Jake "Hangman" Seresin (only implied)

Warnings/content: 18+, porn with plot, porn with feelings, old!icemav, married!icemav, unprotected sex, rough sex, fluff and smut, domesticity.

Word count: 3.7k

The efforts of the last couple of days are still sticking in Mav’s bones but he’s home now and happy. The mission was more than successful. Bradley had asked if he could stay for a night or two before he is sent back to his squadron like the other daggers. Ice is already waiting for Mav to snuggle up in bed with him and honestly, Mav couldn't wish for more right now.

Nevertheless, Mav wants to check in on Bradley and apologize to him once again and maybe already catch up a bit on what has happened in Bradley's life in the years they hadn't talked to each other. So he walks up to Bradley's old room where he is staying now, too.

Mav finds the door to Bradley’s room standing open just a bit and he can hear him talking to someone. He can't catch what exactly Bradley is saying but he sounds happy. The voice which is answering him through the speaker sounds familiar, too, and Mav has an idea who it could be.

As nosy as he is, Mav takes the not fully closed door as an invitation to poke his head through the slit in the door. As expected, Bradley is sitting on his bed, notebook on his lap, talking to the screen.

“Wait a moment,” Bradley says when he notices Mav peeking through the door and looks up at his surrogate dad with a questioning look.

“Hangman?” Mav mouthes.

Bradley rolls his eyes at Mav but a lopsided smile appears on his face and he looks exactly like when he had his first girlfriend.

Mav smiles back at him, gives him a thumbs up and quietly closes the door behind him, leaving the two alone. He can still catch up with Bradley tomorrow.

Mav changes into his pajamas and goes to his bedroom where he finds Ice sitting against the headpiece, reading glasses on and immersed in a book. When Mav comes in, he peeks up from his book with a soft smile but doesn't say anything.

Mav smiles back at Ice and silently crawls into their bed, too, snuggling up to his husband and wrapping one of his arms around Ice’s waist.

“I'm so glad you two finally made peace with each other again,” Ice mumbles and places a kiss on the top of Mav’s head. “Have you talked to him like you wanted to?”

“Not yet,” Mav replies, mumbling against Ice's chest. “He's on a video call with Hangman. Didn't want to disturb them.”

“Lieutenant Seresin?” Ice asks back, surprised.

“Yeah, the two actually remind me a lot of us back in the day,” Mav mumbles with a smile and hoping for them that they will be just as happy with each other like he is with Ice.

“I see,” Ice replies and they fall into a comfortable silence both sucked up in their own thoughts. Mav reminisces in memories of when he and Ice had first started to hang out with each other back in ‘86.

“You don't mind me finishing this chapter, do you?” Ice asks then and it's not really a question because at some point in their thirty-odd years together this has become a routine for them. Ice going to bed earlier, enjoying a good book. Mav joining him later, quietly snuggling up to him after a stressful day at work, enjoying Ice’s loving warmth. When Ice is finished, they go over to sleeping - or sleeping with each other.

“Not at all,” Mav replies like he does every time. For some minutes, they just cuddle like this. Ice still reading. Mav cuddling with his husband.

At some point, Mav's hand drops to Ice’s thigh and he starts to draw little circles on the fabric of Ice's pajama pants. He would much rather like to go for option two today instead of simply sleeping.

Ice continues reading but one of his arms now wraps around Mav’s waist and his hand slips into the backside of Mav’s briefs. Ice keeps his hand just resting there but Mav knows that it means that he doesn't want to sleep, either. After so many years, they understand each other silently, no words needed.

As if coincidentally, Mav lets his hand softly brush over the fabric covering Ice’s limp dick. Ice breathes out languishly. “Mav,” he scolds him in a whisper but Mav knows that Ice is not serious about it because he starts to softly knead one of Mav's buttocks.

“Am I distracting you, Admiral?” Mav whispers and he feels Ice's dick twitch below his hand. He first found out that it turns Ice on when Mav drops his rank in bed when it had slipped his mouth right after Ice's promotion to Lieutenant Commander. The first promotion he had gotten after they became a couple. Since then Mav has occasionally made use of it because he knows that Ice loves to hear it from time to time and Mav loves to say it, too, because sometimes he still can't believe that he is actually married to the COMPACFLT.

Back in the day, Ice would have been fully erect by now. Nowadays, it took him longer but Mav didn't care. They both were old now and their bodies simply didn't work anymore like they did in their twenties. Mav loves Ice's body now just as much as he did thirty years ago and his own body isn't as quick as it used to be, either. So, it really doesn't matter and somehow Mav even loves it that it takes both of them longer to get there because it gives him the opportunity to tease Ice more, to slowly seduce him until he wants to take him just as desperately as when they were young.

Mav starts to softly stroke Ice through the fabric. He doesn't pretend anymore that it’s coincidental and he can feel how Ice slowly hardens in his hand. Ice lets a finger slip in between Mav’s buttocks, slowly moving it back and forth. Mav feels himself harden, too, and grinds against Ice’s thigh letting him know what he's doing to him.

Ice finally closes his book one handedly and puts it on the nightstand together with his glasses. Mav suspects that he already hadn't been reading for quite some minutes now but it's his sign of telling Mav that he’s ready for more.

So Mav straddles him, still fully clothed, and starts dry-humping him slowly. A deep moan escapes Ice’s lips but the moment it's out he covers his mouth with his hand.

“Shit, Bradley's here,” he mumbles a second later but Mav shuts him up with his lips on Ice’s, smiling into the kiss. Mav suddenly feels twenty years younger. Back when Bradley was living with them, Ice had always been so cautious not to be heard by Bradley but it had only rarely worked out. He knows that, both of them know that because teenage Bradley didn't shy away from telling them on a regular basis.

Mav’s mouth goes wandering down Ice's jawline, then onto his neck. He cherishes Ice's throat scar with his lips, one of the remnants of the terrible battle they have fought together and Ice has finally won. Mav knows of course that it can come back but for now Ice is well and that is all that matters.

When Mav slowly reaches the neckline of Ice's pajama top, he doesn't hesitate long but quickly gets rid of it and pulls it over Ice's head. Then he continues to plant sloppy kisses on Ice’s chest until he arrives at one of his nipples and twirls his tongue around it.

Ice lets his head fall back against the headpiece and he bites his lip in a desperate attempt not to moan. Mav hasn't seen Ice like this in years because normally, Ice is loud. Always has been. And both of them love it but today it's different. Today they're not alone in the house and for now, Ice seems to be determined to keep quiet.

Fully aware that it will take Ice's full willpower not to moan out loudly, Mav continues to twirl his tongue around Ice’s nipples in between kisses and while still riding him. Ice gasps and squirms underneath him. Then he’s ramming his hips up against Mav and Mav loves to see him like this. Desperate for Mav’s body, desperate for more.

Ice unambiguously tugs at Mav’s shirt and Mav gets rid of that, too. Now it's his turn to bite back a moan because Ice starts roaming over Mav’s upper body with his long, slender fingers, pulling him down to kiss him feverishly and still thrusting against him. Ice lets his hands travel down to Mav’s butt cheeks, squeezing them firmly, pulling them apart and Mav desperately needs to get rid of his remaining clothes now. So he quickly shuffles his pajama pants and his briefs down in one go and sits back up on Ice’s hips, fully naked.

Ice slowly, languishly lets his eyes wander over Mav’s body until his sight shamelessly rests between Mav’s legs. Ice lasciviously licks his slightly parted lips and Mav’s dick twitches in anticipation. Ice grips Mav’s hips and drags. Mav knows what he’s implying here. Mav smirks, their hungry eyes meet for a second and he pulls himself up on his knees.

Mav looks down and quietly sighs at the gorgeous sight in front of him. He sees Ice staring at his throbbing cock and liking his lips again. Ice takes his time and Mav loves it but hates it at the same time. He wants to be touched, to be welcomed by the wet warmth of Ice’s mouth. But Ice takes his time because he knows exactly how to tease Mav.

Ice caresses the backside of Mav’s thighs, slowly moving upwards to cup his cheeks, kneading them slowly but firmly. Like this, Ice pulls Mav just a bit closer and then he takes him into his mouth. Mav grabs the headpiece to support himself and lets out a loud moan, ignoring the fact that he should stay quiet because this feels just too good. Ice starts bobbing his head back and forth, his tongue varying between the underside and the tip of his cock. Mav is breathing heavily and Ice knows exactly what he’s doing here. He glances up at Mav and his eyes glisten impishly before his right hand moves further around to Mav’s butt crack. He pulls his cheeks apart with his other hand and lets a finger brush lightly across his entrance. Mav gasps breathlessly and already can't wait to sink in on Ice when he has prepared him.

Ice continues to work on Mav's dick while teasing his hole. After a couple of minutes, Mav is panting heavily and he has to pull away if he doesn't want to come early. Ice lets him sit back down on his hips and Mav leans down to kiss him, tasting himself on Ice’s slick lips.

“You're driving me crazy,” he whispers against Ice’s lips.

“I know,” Ice smirks, his voice deep and heavy with arousal and Mav kisses him again with all the love and passion he’s never lost in all those years.

Ice sighs into Mav’s mouth and still kissing him, Mav notices him blindly reaching for the nightstand. Mav backs away from the kiss and quickly helps him to get the bottle of lube out of the drawer.

Lovingly smiling at each other and excitement sparkling in their eyes, Ice holds out his hand and Mav clicks the bottle open, letting the velvety liquid drip down on Ice’s fingers. Ice spreads it there and Mav puts the bottle away before closing his eyes and leaning down to kiss Ice again and at the same giving him better access.

Ice’s hand quickly wanders back between Mav’s butt cheeks and he brushes his index finger over Mav’s entrance again, making Mav hum in pleasure. Then he applies a bit more pressure and slowly pushes his finger in. Mav sharply breathes in but his exhale is already a deep moan. He’s relaxed, knows what it feels like to have Ice inside him and still just simply loves it every time.

Ice starts moving, slowly fucking Mav with his finger and Mav mirrors the movement with his whole body, eyes closed, softly moaning with each thrust, their plan, well, mostly Ice’s plan to stay quiet already long forgotten. It doesn't take Ice long to add another finger, then a third and Mav becomes greedy. Ice’s fingers aren't enough. He wants Ice to fill him completely. Ice slowly pulls his fingers out and Mav whimpers for a split second but it's okay because he knows that it will only even get better.

Ice tugs at his own pajama pants now and because Mav is still straddling him, he shuffles a bit and helps him, yanking both the pants and boxers down in one motion. Mav takes a moment to impudently take in the gorgeous sight in front of him. No matter how often he has already seen Ice like this - naked, in their bed, breathing heavily and with a thick, throbbing cock just for him - he just knows he will never get enough of it, of him.

“Like what you see?” Ice smirks lavishly.

“As if you didn't know that already,” Mav replies and leans forward again to kiss Ice fervently.

In this position, Mav’s butt is already touching Ice’s dick and he feels it bumping against his crack. Mav doesn't want to wait any longer and reaches for the bottle of lube again. This time, Ice helps him to get it. Mav spreads the liquid on his fingers before he gives Ice's cock a couple of strokes. Ice hums in pleasure and immediately starts thrusting into Mav's hand greedily. Mav loves to see him like this, loves that his husband still wants him so desperately. Mav wants Ice just as much and so he starts aligning himself so that he can sink down on Ice easily.

What they are about to do is by far their favorite, most used position, that is Mav riding Ice slowly until both can't get ahold of themselves anymore. Mav loves it this way and he knows that Ice loves it, too. In earlier years, they switched positions more often and sometimes Mav actually misses to be pounded into the mattress by Ice but that hasn't happened in years. Specifically, not since Ice’s battle with cancer. It's undeniable that the disease has worn him down physically and it also has left more than one mark on both of them emotionally. And that's why Mav is grateful for every additional day he can spend with Ice. It doesn’t matter that their sex is not the same anymore as it was ten years ago because it’s still so much better than he would have thought it would be considering their age and what they have gone through. But that is actually an understatement because honestly, he can't imagine having better sex than he has now.

Next thing, however, Mav knows he's on his back, Ice hovering over him. “Tom,” he whispers and Ice looks at him with the cocky smirk he's never lost.

Mav’s heart is pounding heavily in his chest and for the first time in forever he actually feels nervous before sleeping with Ice. Excited? Yes, still every time. But nervous? Maybe the first time they had sex again after Ice's cancer treatment because it had been such a long time without and they weren't sure if everything would work out - it did in the end - but even that was already a couple of years ago now.

Ice pushes himself on his knees, Mav laid out in front of him, bare-naked and excited to be banged in a position they haven't done in years. Ice grins down at him and firmly grabs Mav’s hips, pulling him closer and propping him up a bit. Mav gasps in surprise because only seconds ago he didn't know that Ice is still so strong - or better is so strong again - and Mav is turned on by that even more than he already is, his hard cock twitching as if emphasizing his thoughts.

Ice adjusts himself and then finally, Mav feels Ice enter him, slowly but in one go. Mav can't restrain himself from crying out in pleasure and Ice groans, too. He gives both of them a bit of time to adjust to the feeling and leans down to kiss Mav heatedly for a moment, before he slowly starts thrusting. For a moment, Mav keeps his eyes open, taking in the sight of Ice hovering above him, eyes closed, lips slightly parted, moaning under his breath. Then Mav’s eyes fall shut and he’s panting because Ice is intensifying both pace and vigor now.

Ice shifts back on his knees, firmly grabs Mav's hips again and now he is actually pounding Mav hard. His thrusts are rough and his pace is unrelenting and Mav just loves it. He hasn't felt like this in years. His cock is bouncing wildly between their bodies, sometimes slapping either against his own or Ice's stomach and everything just feels so good.

He looks up at Ice, their fiery eyes meet and Ice smirks at him in such a dirty, lewd way that Mav is immediately very close to coming. Ice is still fucking him adamantly but his movements become more erratic, too. Both of them are moaning with each thrust now and Ice reaches for Mav's dick, stroking him in rhythm with his thrusts.

Then Mav squirms and arches his back. His eyes roll back into his head and with a long and languish moan he comes on his stomach in several thick jolts. Ice keeps thrusting through Mav’s orgasm but Mav is clenching hard around him and that pushes him over the edge, too, groaning loudly.

Ice collapses on top of Mav, breathing heavily. They softly kiss each other and with a loving smile, Mav gently strokes away a stray strand of hair from Ice’s forehead which has been sticking there sweatily.

Ice smacks another kiss on Mav's lips and slowly pulls out. Mav feels Ice’s cum dripping out of him and knows that he will be sore for the next couple of days but he couldn't care less because it will inevitably remind him every waking hour of how perfectly he just got railed by his hot husband.

Then they both quickly clean up themselves and the mess they’ve made before crawling back to bed and snuggling up against each other, Mav’s head resting on Ice’s chest.

“Didn't know you still had it in you like that,” Mav mumbles appreciatively, softly tracing the stripes on Ice’s pajama top with his finger tips.

“You know what? Me neither. I guess having Bradley in the house makes me feel younger,” Ice chuckles deeply and Mav feels his chest vibrating.

“Maybe we should invite him over from time to time now that everything is fine again,” Mav laughs.

“That would be so inappropriate,” Ice scolds him but can’t keep himself from laughing, too.

“Has that ever stopped me?” Mav answers challengingly.

Ice just shakes his head but smiles. “Good night, Pete,” he replies resolutely and kisses his husband goodnight.

–

The next morning, Mav and Ice come down into the kitchen to find Bradley already sitting at their table, a cup of coffee at his side and a bowl of froot loops together with a bottle of milk in front of him.

Froot loops have been Bradley's favorite cereals for as long as Mav can remember. So they had become a permanent feature in their kitchen ever since Bradley had moved in with them. Over time, however, Ice has grown fond of them, too, and so they still always keep a pack or two, just in case Ice wants to eat some out of the blue.

Sitting there like this, Bradley looks exactly like his teenage self, only that he’s twenty years older now and smiling at the screen of his smartphone whose future existence hadn't even been known back then. As soon as he notices his surrogate dads’ presence, he locks his phone, puts it on the table and looks up at them, chewing.

“If you like our froot loops so much, why don't you come over more often,” Mav suggests with a smirk that is screaming shenanigan before Ice can stop him. Instead, he just rolls his eyes at him and shakes his head but is nevertheless smiling.

“Am I right in assuming that this is not about froot loops or the fact that you missed me so much?” Bradley asks, scooping another spoon of cereal into his mouth.

“Yes,” Ice replies with a nod.

“And am I also right in assuming that I don't want to know what it's really about?” Bradley continues, obviously interpreting the look on Mav’s face correctly.

Ice confirms that again and walks over to the kitchen cupboard. He takes out another bowl and a spoon and sits down next to Bradley before making himself a bowl of froot loops, too.

The whole time, Mav just keeps standing in the door frame, leaning against it with his arms crossed. He smiles and for a moment, he just watches his two boys interact with each other and eat the most silly type of cereal in the world. Then he pours himself a cup of coffee, too, and sits down opposite the two.

“I've been such a fool,” Bradley suddenly drops in between two spoons, shaking his head and Mav just frowns at him. “For thinking that I could for once sleep here without being pestered by your old men’s noises.”

Mav immediately sees Ice’s face turn red and how he innocently shovels another spoon of cereal into his mouth.

“You’ve once lived here for years. Don't tell me you didn't know what you’re embarking on,” Mav replies with a shrug.

“Jake even asked me in what kind of filthy motel I'm staying that I have to endure those terrible noises and if he needs to lend me some money so that I can get a room in a proper hotel,” Bradley goes on, ignoring Mav’s comment.

“Jake, huh?” Mav counters and smirks wantonly.

Ice laughs, Bradley’s ears turn bright pink and it feels like no time has passed at all.

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Clandestine Meetings

Summary: Bradley was coming home today. Six weeks on a no-contact deployment, stuck on a carrier in the middle of some non disclosed body of water, and he’s finally coming home. Normally, you’d be bursting at the seams with happy excitement. But the two of you had left things in an...interesting place. When he’s finally standing in front of you, you can tell by his cold and dark eyes that he remembers, too. But he’s had six weeks to think of exactly how you can earn his forgiveness, and you’re all too willing to do anything it takes. 

Warnings: Language, masturbation, oral (male receiving), rough sex, degradation.

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

Word Count: 5.3K

Notes: A special surprise birthday one shot for @mak-32. I hope you love it, babe!

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“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked. He was quiet despite being the only ones in the house, his voice nothing but a whisper floating in the space between your bodies. 

Your breath stuttered out of you and your mouth was dry. You knew this was different from anything you had ever done before. You weren’t sure you’d be able to come back from it. It made you nervous. But you couldn’t deny the heat that settled low in your tummy at the thought of going through with it, either. 

“I’m sure,” you whispered. 

---

It’s fitting, you suppose, that it’s a rare cold day in Southern California. The wind feels like ice on every inch of your exposed skin and goosebumps prickle your entire body. You think it might even rain, the clouds above you darkening with every minute. You almost regret your outfit choice tremendously right now. The flowy purple dress you wore was thin and short and did nothing to combat the cool breeze. But you really had no choice but to wear it. It was Bradley’s favorite, after all. And you know that it’s just a silly dress, but it’s important for him to see you in it right now.

He’s coming home today. Six weeks on a no-contact deployment, stuck on a carrier in the middle of some non disclosed body of water, and he’s finally coming home. Normally, you’d be bouncing on the balls of your feet, too excited to care about the cold. And then the moment you saw him, you’d launch yourself at him, the comfort of his embrace warming you from the outside in. 

You swallow thickly at the memory of previous reunions. They were always sweet. Loving. 

You don’t think today will go like that. 

You’re a cold, trembling bundle of nerves in a flimsy dress by the time the ship finally docks and men and women in khaki uniforms start to disembark. Your eyes dart through the crowd, looking for the familiar mustache and head of curls. You’re standing where you always do when he comes home, something you agreed upon after your second deployment together when he wandered around for almost an hour trying to find you in the sea of people. You hope that he still thinks to look for you here. 

You hope that he’d still expect you to be here. 

You don’t have to wait too much longer to find out; your breath catches when you see him. He looks so good. Tired, like he always does after a deployment, but a sight for sore eyes nonetheless. It takes everything in you not to run and jump in his arms like you’ve done so many times before. 

A range of emotions pass through those entrancing brown eyes of his, so quickly that you have a hard time deciphering all of them. You think you see a brief flash of relief and happiness, but it goes away so fast, you can’t really tell. He stops in front of you and for a moment, you both just stare. He lifts an eyebrow with a slight tilt to his head, like he’s trying to read you. You adjust the chain around your neck, drawing his gaze downward for a moment. You suddenly feel like the jewelry is suffocating you and your mouth feels like you were chewing on cotton balls. 

“Surprised to see you here.”

You nearly flinch at the words, biting back a gasp. The cold, accusatory tone of his voice cuts you deeper than the wind ever could. Because of course you would be here. Where else would you be? 

You have to swallow several times to get the words out. 

“I’m…I’m here to…apologize.” 

Bradley lets out a single sharp bark of laughter, shaking his head like he can’t believe you. This time, you do flinch. 

“That’s rich. You didn’t seem very apologetic six weeks ago, sweetheart.”

Right, you thought.

You flashback to the night before he left, when this had all started. He’s right, you remember - there wouldn’t have been any apologizing then. Instead, it was antagonizing words and insults flying out of your mouth, trying uselessly to defend yourself when you had been the one to mess up. To manipulate him into believing that maybe it was all his fault. You have had six long weeks, every possible scenario playing in your head of how that night went, and how it did. 

“I - I know,” you stutter. 

He raises one of those thick, endearingly perfect eyebrows. You stare back at him, transfixed at having him in front of you. You want to touch him, but you know you can’t. You aren’t used to having him so close yet so far away, especially on the days he comes home. You’re so caught up in your thoughts that it takes you a minute to realize he looks like he’s waiting for something. Oh. Right. An apology. “Bradley. Baby, I -” 

A crack of thunder rings in the air, and you both look up to the sky just in time for the first raindrop to fall. It’s followed quickly by a second, and then a third. You look back at Bradley, eyes wide. He lets out a sigh and adjusts his duffle on his shoulder. 

“I’m not going to let you stand out in the rain, no matter how mad I am,” he says. You feel relief at the words, even if his tone suggests maybe he wanted to do otherwise. He extends his hand, and for a second you think he’s asking for yours. Heat crawls up your neck when you realize that’s not what he was after. Wordlessly, you extract the keys from your dress pocket and hold them out. You gasp when his fingers brush yours when he grabs them. Electricity and warmth shoot through you at the touch. Your eyes meet, both of you frozen. The cold indifference on his face slips, replaced by a longing that makes your heart clench. Your breath catches when he shuffles a step closer to you. You think maybe he’ll forget all of this and lean forward and kiss you, or at least touch you with some sort of intention. Anything. But then another rumble of thunder has the warmth fading from his eyes and he steps back. 

The drive back to your house is silent, the tension in the front seat of the Bronco thickening with every mile. His jaw is clenched as tightly as his grip on the steering wheel. You can see the veins throbbing with the effort and you swallow at the flash of heat that flares through you at the sight. Your thighs press together on instinct and you think Bradley clocks the movement because you feel him watching you, though you can’t tear your gaze away from his hands. They’re one of your favorite parts of him physically. They’re so capable and strong and versatile, providing the roughest of touches along with the softest carasses. Desire pools in your tummy just thinking about it. You missed his touch. You missed him. 

The quiet doesn’t dissipate when you walk through the front door. You’re used to him hauling you into his arms and carrying you back to your bedroom, or the closest mostly-flat surface you can make it to. This time, Bradley doesn’t even look back as he makes his way to your shared room. He closes the door behind him, and the message is clear: he needs more time. 

You feel something prickling under your skin. There’s anxiety, certainly, but there’s a simmer of heat that you can’t deny either. Part of you feels ashamed of it, being turned on at the anger he’s emitting in your direction. 

You suppose that’s the point. 

You busy yourself with making dinner, some of his favorites that you know he craved when he was away. You serve up two full plates once you’re done and it’s five minutes of sitting alone at the table, waiting, before he comes out. He’s showered and changed, his curls still damp on his head. You know the shirt he has on is one of the softest that he owns. You look at him eagerly, but he avoids your gaze. He sits across from you and picks up his fork without another word. Your thighs clench. 

When he’s done, he sets his plate in the sink and pours himself some of the expensive whiskey you bought him for his last birthday. He moves into the living room, leaving you all alone to clean up after the meal. Both of you have yet to speak since walking in the front door. 

You take your time doing the dishes by hand and wiping down the countertops. Your heart is pounding in your chest by the time you go out to join him. He’s sitting on the couch, those long legs of his spread, the glass of liquor halfway gone in his hand. 

God, his hands. 

You stand in front of him. You pick at your fingers and chew on the inside of your cheek so hard that you can taste blood. Bradley watches you with a raised eyebrow, bringing the glass to his lips another sip of the dark liquid. You watch his throat move as he swallows. 

“What can I do?” you ask. You know you sound desperate, but you’re so close to breaking. You aren’t sure how long you could do this. You need guidance, direction - you need him.

“I don’t know that there’s anything to do.” 

His words make you want to cry or drop to your knees or both. “Please, baby,” you whisper, “I’ll do anything. Please.” 

He’s silent for another moment and your will power is rapidly leaving you. But then he throws back the rest of his whiskey and lets out a long suffering sigh. The glass clinks hard against the end table and he stands to his full height. You don’t dare move as he walks over to you. His gaze makes you feel like you’re going to burn alive. 

“You wore my favorite dress,” he finally murmurs, slipping his finger under the strap and running the back of his knuckle against your skin. You nod slowly. He hums in consideration before taking a step back. You nearly whimper at the rejection, but then he speaks.  

“Take it off.”

Your eyes widen in shock. “What?” 

“Take it off,” he repeats, leaning against the arm of the couch with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“I-right here?” you ask, looking around like you aren’t alone in your living room. 

“Right here,” he confirms with a nod. When you don’t move, he motions you to hurry up, looking impatient. “Go on.”  

It’s a challenge. He’s pushing to see how far he can go, and you’re going to let him. Your hands shake as you reach for the hem of the short purple dress he loves so much. You tug it over your head and let it float to the hardwood floor. The look you give him when you’re done is a little shyer as you wait for him to tell you what to do next. 

Bradley scoffs with a shake of his head even as he looks at you with clear appreciation. “No underwear, sweetheart? I should have known.” 

The words make you feel hot with embarrassment. But you also feel the heat flaring up in your core. 

“I thought you’d like it,” you tell him. 

He pushes off the couch and steps forward until his body is practically flush with yours. You aren’t blind to the juxtaposition you make with him fully clothed while you’re completely naked. It makes you feel a bit like someone to be used - like someone who wants to be used. You squeeze your thighs together in anticipation, and then your lips part in a gasp when his fingers lightly wrap around your neck, forcing your head back the slightest bit until you meet his eyes. He pauses for a moment, tilting his head just the slightest bit, considering you. The shaky breath you let out is laced with anticipation and arousal and without needing to even think about it, you lean into his touch. Just like that, his face hardens again and he moves. 

He releases your neck and trails his fingertips down your body, starting at the column of your throat and traveling between your breasts and down your fluttering stomach. His touch is so featherlight it’s almost not there, but if anything, that turns you on even more. You’re aching for him. By the time he passes your belly button, you’re audibly panting for it. You can feel your arousal starting to coat the inside of your thighs.  But he stops right above where you need him the most. 

“You say that you’re sorry? That you missed me?” he asks quietly. You’re nodding before he’s even done with the first question. Bradley trails his eyes down your body again. His eyes are darker when he meets yours. “Go back to our room. Lay down on the bed.” 

Our room. It’s the first thing he’s said that acknowledges that you’re still an “our”. It sends your heart pounding and your feet moving down the hallway to the other side of the house. When you walk into your room, you notice that he had unpacked his bag. The dirty clothes hamper is nearly overflowing with things that need to be washed. His phone is plugged in on his nightstand, where the picture of the two of you he always takes with him on deployment is sitting back in its rightful spot. 

You hadn’t considered the fact that maybe he wouldn’t have put it back, if he had even ended up taking it with him at all. 

You don’t get long to overanalyze or get in your feelings that maybe things, your relationship, is salvageable after all, because you hear the old floorboard in the hallway creak under his weight and know that he’s on his way. You rush over to the bed. Your head has just hit the pillow when he appears in the doorway. 

You want to say something, anything, to get further confirmation that everything was okay. But you don’t dare move. He doesn’t look anywhere but in your eyes as he pauses at the foot of the bed. There are goosebumps all over your skin as you wait for his next direction in this game you’re both suddenly playing. 

“You want my forgiveness?” 

“Yes,” you breathe. “Yes. Please. I’m so sorry.” 

He chews on his lip and drops his gaze down to your open legs.  He groans, and you almost sigh in relief that you’re having this effect on him. 

“Earn it. Show me how much you missed me.” His voice is rougher than it has been all night, that deep and raspy tone that you enjoyed so much. You nearly gasp in delight as pleasure races through your body at the sound of it. 

Earn it. 

Splayed out naked on your shared bed, your legs spread for him and with wetness threatening to pool on the duvet under you, you know exactly how you can do that. 

Despite the nerves you feel, you take a deep breath and slowly trail your hand down your body. With one more imploring look from him, you slide your fingers through your wetness. You moan when you make contact with that bundle of nerves. 

You swirl your swollen clit in soft, slow circles, the pads of your fingers quickly becoming slick with your own arousal. Bradley never takes his eyes off of your motions and it makes you even wetter. You press down harder, knowing that the more you pleasure yourself, the more pleased he’ll be. Your pussy clenches around nothing, aching to be filled. After another moment of teasing circles, you dip your middle finger inside yourself. It’s nothing compared to how you know Bradley feels inside of you, but it’s enough to make you gasp. You arch into the feeling, immediately adding another finger. Your entrance has to stretch to accommodate them and you can’t wait for the delicious burn you’ll feel with his cock, if he even lets you feel that tonight. 

You let your eyes flutter closed the longer you pleasure yourself. You think maybe, maybe, you’ll be able to make yourself come like this. You’re climbing toward it, slowly.  

“Stop.” 

You whimper, but you do as you’re told - as you’re commanded. You withdraw your fingers and immediately your pussy clenches, wanting more. You open your eyes and moan at the site you’re greeted with. He had shed his clothes while you had gotten lost in your own touch and he stood, his cock heavy and thick in his hand, stroking slowly. You see a pearl of precum at the tip and your mouth waters, wanting to taste it. It’s been so long since you tasted him. You can’t stop yourself from crawling to the end of the bed. You’re practically drooling by the time you scramble off of it and drop to your knees in front of him. You want to reach for him and replace his hand with yours, but you stop yourself at the last second. Instead, you look up at him between your lashes. 

His gaze is hungry and predatory and focused solely on you. His chest is rising and falling quicker than it was before; he’s just as turned on as you are. 

“Please,” you whisper. You rub your thighs together to try and relieve some of the ache that you felt. “Let me earn it?” 

His eyes darken and in one quick movement, Bradley takes a step forward, letting the swollen red tip of his cock hit your lips. 

“Make it good,” he growls. You open your mouth and take him in. The taste of him mixed with the weight on your tongue and his heady scent is making you dizzy in the best of ways. You want to savor it, to just stay here on your knees and keep him warm, but you don’t want to disappoint him, so you don’t waste time. You dip forward, trying to take more of his length into your mouth. Your hands splay on his thick, muscled thighs, and with a deep inhale through your nose, you pull back before sinking forward and then repeating the motion. You take him a little deeper every time, swirling your tongue and sucking as you do. You’ve been in this position so many times before, and you quickly find the rhythm that you know he prefers. You gag when he nudges the back of your throat, but you don’t let it deter you. 

Spit trails down your chin and you know the sounds you’re making are vulgar, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You get lost in it quickly, each moan and curse from above you going straight to your own core. When his hand falls heavy to the back of your head, you think he’s going to guide your movements. You’re surprised when instead, he yanks you back by your hair. His cock falls from your mouth and you gasp. It hangs in front of your face, thick and hard and wet with your own saliva. You go to take him back between your lips but he keeps his grip firm in your hair. You don’t resist when he pulls you to your feet. 

“On the bed,” he demands, and you take some satisfaction out of how breathless he sounds. “Hands and knees. Facing the dresser.”  

You do as he says, anticipation racing through you like a trail of fire. You’re barely in his desired position when you feel him squeeze the flesh of your behind in both of his hands. “Oh god, please,” you whine, arching into his touch. Only the feeling stops, and your eyes pop open with a gasp of surprise. 

You look over your shoulder. His eyes are as dark as they’ve been, but through your lust you see a gleam in them now. Something playful and hot. It’s accompanied by a slow building grin tugging at his lips. 

“B-Bradley?” 

He tsks mockingly, giving a slow shake of his head. 

“Bra-“

His hand connects with your asscheek so harshly and so suddenly that you fall forward, barely catching yourself before face planting into the duvet. But your pussy clenches and the fire in your belly increases and the moan that escapes you is long and drawn out. He drapes himself over you, his weight pressing your entire front into the mattress in the most delicious of ways. He’s completely surrounding you and for a moment, every fiber of you relaxes, forgetting about the anger and the apology. 

But then he presses a kiss to your ear, and the words he whispers has it all rushing back. 

“Beg for it. For me.” 

You can’t turn to meet his eyes with how he’s holding you down, but when you look forward, you realize why he had specifically picked this placement. The mirror over your dresser provides a perfect visual of the two of you tangled together over your forest green duvet. You moan at the sight, and without a second thought, you do just as he requested. 

“Please, Bradley. Fuck me. I’ll do anything you want. Please. Use me. I want your cock so bad, baby. Please, please, please.” 

Pleading continues to fall from your lips, so jumbled together you lose track of what you’re saying. But Bradley delights in every word. The vein in his neck throbs as he picks himself up, hauling you back to your hands and knees. He looks so large and strong behind you and as he drags the head of his cock through your wetness, you shiver. You watch through half lidded as he lines himself up. 

And then he starts to push into you. You both moan at the feeling. It’s always amazing being with Bradley, but that initial stretch that comes with being apart for however long is something special. He’s so big that you can’t take all of him at once, but just like he knows you like, he barely pauses, inching himself in until he’s buried all the way inside of you. You sigh with pleasure and relief, finally feeling full for the first time in six weeks. 

You meet his eyes in the mirror again, and for just a second, he’s staring at you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters. It makes all of this so worth it. “Bradley,” you whisper, softer than you had all night. You wonder if it will ruin everything, but you say the words bubbing on your tongue anyway. “I missed you so much.”

The breath he releases comes out shaky and he squeezes his eyes shut. You hold your breath as you wait, wondering if this is all about to come to an end, if your words had impacted him that much. But he shakes his head in a way that almost seems like he’s trying to rid himself of your words, and you know before he opens his eyes that you’re nowhere near done. 

“I bet you did,” he grits out, and then he pulls out almost all the way before harshly snapping back into you. 

The pace he sets is vicious, demanding everything you can give to him. The room is filled with the sounds of your fucking. It’s filthy and wet, your skin slapping together. The reflection you see in the mirror is a sight to behold. Your breasts shakes with every thrust, your necklace hitting against your skin. The veins in his arms bulge as he grips your hips. You both shine with sweat. You let yourself get lost in the pleasure and your eyes close as it starts to consume you. And then all at once, you feel the sharp sting of his hand connecting with your asscheek while the other twists itself into your hair, retching you up so your back is flush with his chest. 

“You better keep those eyes open. I want you to watch while I’m fucking you. I want you to know it’s me making you feel this way. Because I’m the only one who can, aren’t I, sweetheart?” 

“Yes,” you gasp, “yes, yes, only you.” 

“By the time I’m done with you, you’ll never question that again.”  

He lets his teeth trail over the pulse point on your neck, biting down slightly. Another whimper falls from you. Despite being flush against him, you’re desperate to be closer. You reach an arm back, slinging it around his neck. The angle is a little awkward but you’re grateful when Bradley doesn’t seem to mind. He settles one hand on your hip while the other comes around to your front, tweaking your nipples and sliding down your sweat-slicked body.  

You aren’t prepared for his next move, and the scream you let out is ringing in your ears by the time you register it had left your lips. You clench around him as your clit throbs from the slap he just delivered. You’re desperate for the painful pleasure it caused. 

“Again,” you beg, fingers tugging at his curls. You brace yourself this time, and the sting is somehow even better. He slaps your pussy for a third time just for good measure and then sets his attention on torturing your wet, swollen clit with his fingers. You gasp lightly, only to let out another scream when he slams into you again, harder than before. 

“You feel so fucking good wrapped around me,” Bradley rasps. You think you say something in return about how good he feels inside of you, but you’re to the point of pleasure where you can’t be sure. You can feel every vein and ridge of his cock as he pounds into you, fucking you in earnest. You can’t do anything but take it, and you do so gladly. The tightening in your core starts and you know you’re close. The pressure of it builds and builds with each stroke in your throbbing cunt and you know you won’t be able to keep it at bay for much longer. 

“I’m close,” you manage to choke out, feeling the need to warn him. At your words, Bradley stops, pulling out of you completely. You moan at the loss, preparing yourself for what’s coming. You expect him to deny you, or to taunt you, make you beg and plead and prove that you’ve earned it. But he doesn’t do any of those things. Instead, before you have time to dwell on what you’re sure is your fate, he flips you onto your back and sheaths himself back inside of you in one smooth movement. At the same time, he presses his mouth to yours. You wrap your legs around his waist, pushing yourself further into him. His tongue tangles with yours and it’s messy and desperate, but it’s the first time he’s kissed you since he left six weeks ago, and even more so than feeling him deep inside of you like he is, this feels like coming home. You nearly sob into the kiss. 

He’s panting harshly when he breaks away, as are you, but the look in his eye is different now. It’s more familiar, softer, and your walls flutter around him. “You’re so good for me, sweetheart,” he rasps, and you arch into the praise. He kisses you again, his thrusting becoming more erratic now. “Come for me, baby. I want to feel you come all over my cock. I need it.” 

“Bradley,” you breathe.

“I love you,” he whispers, “come for me.” 

The look of love in his eyes reflected back at you is the catalyst, but the words are truly your undoing. You scream his name as the cord inside of you snaps and you gush around him, your body nearly convulsing at how powerful of an orgasm this is. It’s six weeks of built up tension and anticipation, thinking about his return and how it would transpire. It’s six weeks of longing and missing him, and being without him. He fucks you through it the whole time, chasing his own end. Through the haze of your pleasure, you feel his thrusts become jerky and quick, and when he lets out a hoarse shout of your name, you feel his hot cum spill inside of you, filling you up. 

For a long moment, you let yourself float, completely surrounded by this feeling of relief and euphoria and home. Your breaths mingle together as he rests his forehead against yours. He places a soft kiss to your lips as you both come down from the high you reached together. And once your breathing is a little bit more controlled, he pulls back just slightly, and you watch as he glances down to where he’s still buried inside of you. The sigh he lets out is full of content. It’s reflected so clearly in his deep brown eyes when he looks at you. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” he says. 

You hum softly, your body tired and completely relaxed. You scratch lightly at his back, delighting in the goosebumps that appear under your touch. Your voice is hoarse from how loud you had gotten when he fucked you. “Hi, baby.” 

Bradley presses a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose, and then another on your cheek before finally placing one against your lips, so featherlight you almost don’t feel it. 

“I missed you,” he whispers, followed by another kiss. “I missed you so much.” 

“I missed you too.”

“Are you alright?” he checks, a tinge of worry filling his voice. “Was I-” 

“I’m perfect,” you cut him off before he can spiral too much and ruin the bliss that you had both fallen into. “You were perfect.” 

He nods, letting out a breath of relief. He doesn’t pull out of you yet, knowing how much both of you need the connection after he’s been away and after a scene. You had always been adventurous in bed, and role playing was one of your favorite things.And this one was intense. Instead, he shifts so you’re both laying on your sides, the front of your body flush with his, his cock still buried in your warmth.

“That was…”

“Yeah,” you breathe out a laugh, shaking your head. You flashback to six weeks ago and can’t help the shiver that goes through your body. 

--

You snuggled closer to Bradley on your shared bed, your leg sliding between his. His fingers traced shapes into your bare lower back. “Tell me how it will go again?” 

“It’s a six week no contact deployment” he told you. “And when I come home, it’ll be like we had a massive falling out before I left. And you have to earn my forgiveness. I’ll be mad at you. Degrading. And you’ll…you’ll be desperate for me.” You could feel him hardening against your stomach as he described it, and you shivered in return. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked. He was quiet despite being the only ones in the house, his voice nothing but a whisper floating in the space between your bodies. 

Your breath stuttered out of you and your mouth was dry. You knew this was different from anything you had ever done before. You weren’t sure you’d be able to come back from it. It made you nervous. But you couldn’t deny the heat that settled low in your tummy at the thought of going through with it, either. 

“I’m sure,” you whispered. 

“Wear the purple dress, and the necklace with my initial on it, if you’re sure,” he told you anyway, and your heart swelled, knowing he needed the extra validation. Your comfort was always his number one priority. “If you don’t have them on, I’ll know that you don’t want to act it out anymore. But if you do…” 

“Then I’ll be ready.” 

----------

Main Masterlist

Notes: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MAK!!! Keeping this a secret from you was one of the hardest things ever, I swear. The amount of times this almost got sent to you on accident...man oh man.

Thanks to @roosterforme for all of her help with this! Literally would not exist without you!

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